#i think i’ve woken up feeling very overwhelmed
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rosaaeles · 28 days ago
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i’m struggling with feeling guilty for having asked people to share what makes them happy with me because i still feel really sad and anxious. and i know i wasn’t going to immediately feel better by reading the responses to that post, but it feels like people’s time spent replying has just been wasted on me idk if this makes sense i mean that sometimes when im really panicked or low i feel beyond help. i feel like ive wasted everyone’s time. i know it’s not logical and that im feeling like this because im really anxious right now but i don’t know what to do i feel like i need to apologise to anyone who wrote anything for it being so wasted on me. and i want to apologise to anyone following me who has had to see all my vent posts in the past few months when its not what they signed up for. im just really sorry and i hope j feel better soon and can just go back to posting normally and being normal again
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cherievol6 · 1 year ago
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in love in italy
hey!!! long time no see…sorry i’ve been off the grid - i’ve been working loads. i just randomly wrote this (I was feeling very poetic after reading Sally Rooney lmfao) hope you enjoy!
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being with harry in Italy brings on some intense feelings that you just need to confess.
warnings: very brief mentions of sex, other than that it’s absolutely heart wrenching fluff.
word count: ~1k
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You’ve never felt like this before.
At least, not when you're in the middle of having sex with someone.
This wasn't just someone though, it was Harry.
Sweet and gentle Harry, whom had made everything feel a little bit lighter for you since the moment you met. Here he was, skin so close to yours it felt like he was trying to meld you both together like clay. His head was dipped into your shoulder, his breaths heaving but blissful. You felt like a pot of boiling sugar bubbling up to a gooey caramel and oozing into the bed below you. He made you feel as though one look from him or one kiss from him would make you shed every negative piece of your mind.
"You okay? You're awfully quiet after that." He half laughs, referring to the intense scene of love that was just displayed in the early hours of the morning, in a random villa in Italy. You’d woken up to get a glass of water and returned to bed to find Harry awake. A quick good night kiss turned into wandering hands and clothes being stripped to the floor. It wasn't quick, or impatient, the way you'd held eachother. It was intense, and thick and heavy — like there was something lingering for the two of you. You feel a few tears slip to yours ears and on to the pillows. Harry still hasn't noticed, gently stroking the leg around his waist. You scratch your fingers in his hair and let out a shaky breath.
You always found it hard to hold in your cries, since you were small. They swelled your chest like a balloon, and with a sharp gasp of breath the balloon pops and Harry's snapping his head up quickly and brushing your hair out of your face.
"Woah, woah. What's wrong?" His voice is panicked and you don't find yourself trying to avoid his gaze, which is strange. You don't feel upset, you feel overwhelmed. Harry always said it scared him how every time you looked at him it felt like you were reading his mind.
You wipe the sweat from your brow, the warm room making you feel flushed. Or was it this nagging urge to tell Harry something you’d kept to yourself for so long, out of fear of scaring him off so early in your relationship.
You smile, and he must think you look manic, grin growing the more you look at him, his constant over concern for you, like he couldn’t bear to think of anything bad happening to you.
“I feel good.” You say quietly, running your thumb over his mole next to his mouth.
“Yeah? That’s good.” He kisses you softly.
“Do you feel good?” He nods at your question without hesitation.
His eyes seem to gloss over akin to yours, and the words are literally behind your teeth when he says, “Always when I’m with you. You make me feel so safe. I can’t describe it-”
“I love you so much, Harry.” The tears are no longer tears, rather streams of saltiness that saturate your hair and Harry’s hands. He seems to deposit the last of the air in his lungs before he can speak again. Like your words winded him.
“You love me?” His voice is timid, and his hand is now shaking.
“You know that thing, where people paint in acrylic on a canvas, and it looks good, but kind of dull? A bit moody?” Harry nods, with a small smile creeping up his face. You always were one for the metaphor, “and then they paint it with that shimmery gloss and it makes the painting look so different. Like it’s brand new, and you’re finally seeing it in its best form? That’s how you make me feel. I wasn’t bad before, I just needed something…or someone to make me more vibrant. You do that for me. And I love you for it.”
He laughs, and the movement makes his tears fall out of his eyes and on to your cheeks. You are the most emotionally intelligent person he’s ever met in his life and he can’t believe that you’re in love with him.
“You always come up with the most beautiful metaphors...” he kisses you again, like staring at your face for too long brings on the urge to just devour you whole. “I genuinely think my entire life was created to coexist with yours, and just hear every piece of your mind that you’ll let me.”
You pull him down again and kiss him again. You were insatiable for his kisses, they were like oxygen for you. He’s still crying, and you’re still crying, and all you can hear around you is his heavy heartbeat and the owls in the trees around you. Your favourite place to be with Harry was in his Italian house. It felt like no one in the world existed or cared about the two of you when you were within these walls.
“I love you. I have done for months and I will do for a lifetime. Okay?” His brows are pinched together, in a sincere and reassuring way. Like he needs you to know that he’s not going anywhere.
“Okay.” You smile widely, until your cheeks hurt and your eyes wrinkle. “I love you.”
“I love you.” Now that it’s out in the air it feels like the only form of communication between you both in this moment. Harry rocks against your hips and kisses your neck, and you begin to breathe shallow. You whine when he connects your lips again.
“Show me how much you love me, H.”
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annewithaneofthegreengable · 10 months ago
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Homecoming Daydream Part 2
Summary: With the power of Ferrari’s ghost, Enzo or whoever officiated me with a Charles Leclerc’s in Jesus’ form. I pronounce you, husband and wife.
Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader.
Genre: Romance, fluff and smut.
Author's note: This is a multiple-chapter Toto x Reader fanfic. Noted that English is not my mother tongue so there will be mistakes.
Part 1: Homecoming Daydream
Y/n hadn’t lied before. She wasn’t nervous about marrying Toto. Like at all. 
At that moment, as she walked towards him, down the altar, she was overcome not by excitement but was overwhelmed with the sense of love. The sight of someone, and not just someone, he is, the man in her dream standing at the end of the aisle, patiently waiting for her. She felt like she must have been trapped in a dream, one that she silently prayed to never be woken up from. But as her tipped French nails poked into the palm of her hand, she realised that all these things were happening and they were indeed, 100% true. As she neared him, she could feel the nerves and butterflies disappear and be replaced by a warm feeling of peace and serenity. Like a homecoming. And she is indeed at home now and forevermore. 
All she could do was focus on the heartbeat hammering away in her ears. Then, Toto’s warm hand wrapped around her own. Then, his face – his beautiful dark brown eyes so invitingly warm and intense, she felt caught in his gaze. Then, his gorgeous smile, told her just how happy he was. And slowly her heartbeat steadied, the deafening pulse quieted and she was gently grounded back into the moment with him. I am home, she thought. 
And not a second too early, because as she caught Fred’s expectant gaze, she realized that they somehow must’ve gotten to the part where they would exchange their vows. Y/n cleared her throat. The words came so easily – because they were true.��
“Toto. I must say this and I know it’s not a very romantic way to start a vow but I had a pretty much okay life before I met you.”
There was a low rumble of laughter in the crowd. Y/n smiled and took another deep breath before she continued.
“It’s not fantastic, just average like anyone else’s life out there can be, and I guess I was fine with it. With the thought of being a loner traveller in this lifetime. With the thought of never being the chosen one. Everything ate me up and made me believe it that way. Until I met you. I never expected to meet someone like you. I didn’t even think of someone like you to ever set foot in my life. Slowly, I get to know the beautiful person you are, inside and out. To be so lucky as to fall in love with you. I’ve found my new home, you – right here. And I couldn’t be more grateful to spend my life with you.”
She saw the moisture shimmering in his eyes and was sure that her own looked pretty similar. He smiled, before nodding at Fred and taking a deep breath. 
“ Y/n, my life was pretty much like yours before I met you. Except for all the noise, the hustle lifestyle and the demands of everything in my life,... Too much that there were days I thought it was going to swallow me whole. That was until we came across. I didn’t know I could ever admire one’s eyes this much, and just hearing your laughter and being with you made me feel at home. You called me your home, Schatz. Well, you are mine, too. As you have given me your hands to hold, so I give you my life to hold from this day forward.” 
Her heart beat steadily throughout his vows, but the tears that had been on the verge of slipping before now streamed freely down her face. There was nothing she could do about it. It was as though her love for this man poured out of her body because there was simply too much of it to be physically contained.
She was vaguely aware that Lewis stepped forward behind Toto and handed him something. Toto took the box and flipped it open, revealing two rings. Y/n gasped and swallowed an incredulous chuckle at the size of the diamond inside. Toto hadn’t proposed to her with an engagement ring, since he’d done it spontaneously one night, while they were still wrapped up in bed together. After, she’d told him not to get one, since she found a single wedding ring would more than suffice. Really, she should’ve expected that he would go above and beyond with it, knowing he would go feral in choosing her the perfect ring, with the biggest diamond, of course. He smirked at her reaction and picked the ring from the box, looking at Lewis expectantly. His friend chuckled.
“Okay, I feel kinda silly even asking after all of that, but here we go. Toto, do you Y/n to be your wife?” 
“I do”, Toto answered, his voice even and earnest, despite his smile. Then he slid the ring in place and lifted her hand to his lips for a soft kiss. 
“I love you” he whispered. 
That steady pulse from before was replaced by a frantic gallop, her heart almost jumping out of her chest at the touch of his lips. 
“And Y/n, do you take Grandpa Toto here to be your husband?”
There was another rumble of laughter from the audience, Toto however, acted as though he hadn’t even heard the quip, his eyes glued to her face, her lips. Waiting to hear her answer. As if he still couldn’t believe she’d agree. Silly old man. 
“I do“, she said. Then she plucked the other ring from the box, a simple gold band, and took Toto’s hand.
“And I love you too,“ she whispered and slid the ring onto his finger. 
They stood there and stared at each other, both smiling and silently crying, until Fred cleared his throat and even his voice sounded suspiciously tight with emotion. 
“Well, then with the power of Ferrari’s ghost, Enzo or whoever officiated me with a Charles Leclerc’s in Jesus’ form. I pronounce you, husband and wife. You may kiss your wife now, Wolff.”
And then just only waiting for that moment, her husband did what he was said to do. 
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 Everyone cheered, as Toto released Y/n just slightly, still holding her in his arms, as she grinned up at him. „Hey husband“, she whispered.
His heart felt like it had grown three sizes.
„Hey wife“, he answered, with a smile so wide it actually hurt.
The music turned up in the background and people jumped out of their chairs, charging towards them for hugs and kisses. Lewis was first since he stood right next to them. He clapped Toto on the back before twirling Y/n into one of his bear hugs, making her laugh as he lifted her off the ground. 
“Welcome to the fam, Mrs. Wolff or you prefer it as Mrs. Mercedes. Thank you for saving us from the wrath of him smashing  another pair of Bose’s headphones.”
“I’m more than happy too,” she answered with a wink towards Toto. 
Y/n’s friends and family were another matter, alternately sobbing blended with screaming here and there (happy scream, of course) as they essentially pried her from his hands. She looked over her shoulder at him and gave a little shrug while rolling her eyes, before trying to calm everyone down. As dramatic as them all, she felt whole with them here today. 
Half an hour later, most of the crying was done, and people had started mingling and dancing. And Y/n was finally back at his side, as he pulled her out onto the dancefloor for their first dance as wife and husband. 
„I missed you“, she murmured, sighing happily as she leaned into him, slowly swaying from side to side. 
He grinned.
„I missed you too, sweetheart. Almost broke that stupid rule and came to see you last night, but they almost sent a missing report so I pretty much couldn’t pull the trick of meeting at a secret place like Romeo and Juliet.“
“You want us to die. That’s not what I imagine a happily ever after ending is about, Toto. Did I just marry a crazy, old man?” 
“You did not say that.” He said, completely serious.
“Is that so?”
“Just so you know, wifey. This crazy, old man here fully intended to fuck you tonight. you look so perfect in this dress. Makes me wanna fucking ruin you.” 
She tilted her head as though she was weighing her options with a flushed face. 
“Hmm. That’s the kind of crazy I can handle. And you also aged just fine, husband. Also, you've already ruined me. I can't go five minutes without thinking about your hands on me, our bodies intertwined.”
Toto cursed quietly, already feeling himself harden in his suit. Not an ideal situation, with everyone watching them spin around in slow circles on the dance floor. 
“Oh, Schatz, you can’t say this in public without expecting me to get all hard up.”
Y/n hummed quietly and leaned closer, sliding her hand down his back and pressing her soft body against his torso.
“Rewards come to those whose patience, husband of mine. I promise you there will present for you to open tonight.”
After making the rounds, taking turns dancing with their friends and family, posing for photos and indulging in the food, Toto's patience was running thin. Although surrounded by family and beloved friends, Toto felt increasingly impatient. The wedding felt like an eternity and a huge distraction from the real reason they were all there: to witness Toto and his bride say "I do." He now started to wonder where his wife had gone since she disappeared 15 minutes ago. 
“Have you guys seen my wife?” Toto asked Lewis, Sebastian and George. 
“You really enjoy saying that, huh?“ George teased.
“I think she went upstairs to freshen up, maybe,” Lewis said.
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clarisse0o · 6 months ago
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Camp Wiegman-Part 40
Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle
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Alternative Universe : Military School
Words : 5k
TW : Homophobia
Masterlist
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Monday, January 18th; 7:50 AM - School Grounds.
Anxiety slowly takes over me. I’m about to meet my new class in a few minutes. Fortunately, I won’t be doing it alone. Both  Leah and  Lotte are accompanying me on this new adventure, thank God. I would have gone crazy otherwise. As if I hadn’t already had a disastrous night… Nothing is ever normal at home anyway. Everything always happens at once. My nightmares came back stronger than ever. I found myself drenched in sweat in my little bed at three in the morning. I was lucky not to have woken up Lucy. I was in a terrible state. I even had to get up and change. I think she noticed I wasn’t wearing the same pajamas this morning, but she didn’t ask me about it. She’s understood my need for space since her rejection. I don’t want to deal with her until I’ve sorted things out in my head. It’s painful, but I have to look at things positively... I’ve finally granted her wish to sleep in separate beds. Even though it worked against me last night, it’s also what I want now. It was a mistake to get used to being in her arms. I should have known better. I suddenly remembered why I keep my distance from people. But now it’s too late. Too late to regret what’s been done. The problem is, I’ve become dependent on her. That’s an undeniable fact. I found myself lying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to fall back asleep. Her steady breathing calmed me, reminding me that I wasn’t alone, but I still couldn’t sleep. The realization that it was her, her presence against me, that I missed completely overwhelmed me. I had never reached this stage with anyone before, not even Mapi. Instead of swallowing my pride by waking her up or joining her, I locked myself in the bathroom and slid down to the floor. I was on the verge of breaking down, realizing the situation I was in. Everything hit me all at once, and I hadn’t seen it coming. I let her into my life, and now there’s no turning back. I could have cried out in sheer pain, but I didn’t. I held it in because I had no right to do otherwise. I put myself in this situation. The rest of the night gave me plenty of time to reflect with my tormented mind. I ended up spending the rest of the night on that floor until it was time to sneak back to my bed. I didn’t want  Lucy to notice my suspicious absence. My plan worked, and it’s likely to be very effective next time. Though, I doubt my body can endure this for long. I’m already struggling now. I noticed dark circles in the mirror this morning, and my eyes sting.  Lucy couldn’t see them. I rushed to the bathroom as soon as the alarm rang to cover my face with foundation.
“Relax,  Ona,”  Leah chuckles, pulling me out of my thoughts. “You’re acting like we’re going to a funeral. Your stress is palpable from miles away.”
“You’re funny,” I grumbled. “You both know everyone here, unlike me. It feels like I’m starting school all over again.”
“You weren’t even this tense when you first arrived here,” she mocks.
“I didn’t care about being here back then,” I say, shrugging. “Remember, I was looking for a way out.”
“Not anymore?”  Lotte asks.
“Looks like things change.”
“Little Batlle is evolving!”  Leah jokes. “I thought we’d finally get to see a rebel.”
“Pff, nonsense. Of course, Bronze managed to train her student again.”
That unknown voice was harsh. I look around to find the person who dared to listen in on our conversation. I spot a student I don’t know at all. She seems to be mocking me.
“Got a problem?” I reply.
“Me?” she answers, feigning outrage. “Not at all. I was just saying  Bronze succeeded again in taming the camp princess.”
I furrow my brow. Camp princess? What kind of nonsense is this? How do the students know that nickname? An inexplicable rage builds up inside me. So this is what they think of me here? That I was a little rebel that  Lucy managed to tame? If Alessia hadn’t had her hand on my arm, I would have grabbed her collar by now to make her regret her words.
“Let it go, Athenea,” scoffs a girl who just arrived. “The rumors about her must be true. She’s probably a lesbian who can’t resist the charms of our dear instructor.”
I clench my fists so tightly that my knuckles turn white as snow. This is really not the time to provoke me about that. I take a deep breath, telling myself they don’t know what they’re talking about, but that girl’s smug smile is infuriating. Looks like I’ve already found someone to despise in my new class.
“Let it go, Ona. Let them think what they want.”
I take Alessia’s advice and turn my back on those two troublemakers. I’m not going to stoop to their level by getting provoked. They’re just trying to irritate me, but I won’t give them that satisfaction. The best response is to ignore them. I was ready to continue our conversation until I felt a presence behind me.
“By the way, my name is Korbin,” she whispers in my ear. “You’re going to remember my name very quickly with all the trouble I’m going to cause you… filthy dyke.”
She walks past me, turning around to give me one last malicious smile before entering our classroom. Great. This couldn’t have started any better. She clearly doesn’t know who she’s messing with.
“We should go inside,” Alessia gently reminds me.
I nod without taking my eyes off the doors she just walked through.
“Are you okay?” she murmurs.
I sigh, nodding again while trying to hide my slight tremors. This is the first time I’ve experienced a direct homophobic remark. She pats my shoulder before I follow her into our new classroom. Most of the seats are already taken. Luckily,  Leah and Lotte got in before us and saved us seats in the back. I sit next to Alessia, taking the spot by the window. I take out my supplies and put my bag on the floor, then lean against the wall to get a view of my new class. I quickly spot the infamous Korbin, who gives me a twisted smile. Looks like I’ll have to find out more about this girl.
“Good morning, everyone, to your new Business Management class,” my new teacher’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “I’m Mr. Tompson, your new homeroom teacher for the rest of the year.”
I’m surprised to see a young teacher at the front of the class. He’s nothing like any teacher I’ve had before. I’d guess he’s in his early thirties at most. He has a certain charm with his slight beard and tousled chestnut hair.
“I’ll be your management teacher for the rest of the year. We’ll start off slowly by taking roll,” he continues as he heads to his desk. “Just so you know, I have notes on each of you from your previous teachers as well as instructors. This will help your new teachers and me to understand you quickly.”
 Lucy didn’t mention anything about that… Damn. I’m going to be labeled right from the start. I wasn’t particularly liked by my previous teachers.
“Well, let’s get to roll call,” he says, sitting down. “I want to put faces to the names I’ve read about.”
I sink into my chair as he calls the first name on the list. I glance at Alessia, who smiles at me. I was disappointed not to be in the same class as Alexia for the rest of the year, but maybe this will give me a chance to get closer to others. It might be a blessing in disguise. Maybe I’ll be able to forget  Lucy in the process. I furrow my brow when Alessia nudges me.
“ Batlle, Ona?”
“Sorry,” I say aloud, realizing what’s happening. “Here!”
I look my teacher straight in the eye. His are a very plain brown. He gives me a warm smile. I feel like he’s judging me in some way.
“So you’re the famous  Ona I’ve heard so much about,” he says. “I have mixed opinions about you,” he tells me. “A lot of people seem to believe in you. Let’s see how that turns out.”
“She must have slept with Bronze to get positive remarks,” the bitch from earlier snickers.
“Shut up!” I snap without thinking.
I glare at her to emphasize my words. She just smiles at me maliciously. This girl is pure poison, it’s unreal. Many laugh at her stupid joke. I really didn’t need any more rumors about me on top of everything else.
“Hey, that’s enough!” the teacher shouts. “Quiet down,” he demands, silencing the class. “There’s no place for that kind of remark here, got it?! Next time, you’ll explain your inappropriate comments to the principal.”
“Oh, come on, I was just joking,” she giggles.
“Real funny,” I growl.
- "I said that's enough!" he lectures. "I’m going to finish taking attendance, and then we’ll start the lesson right away as a punishment."
Discontented sighs are heard. They better not even try to blame me. The entire class acted childishly. I rest my head against the palm of my hand until attendance is over. I feel like this day is going to be even longer than I expected. My lack of sleep isn’t helping, but it’s best if I don’t draw attention to myself on the first day. Once attendance is over, he follows through on his threat by starting the lesson. This day isn’t much different from other Mondays. My schedule is almost identical. It’s just the content that changes. Today we have two hours of management, then two hours of math. Since it’s the first day, the hours pass more quickly. The teachers take their time getting into the thick of things. We lost half an hour in each subject listening to their spiel and their attendance list, as they don’t know most of us. Finally, lunch arrives. I was chatting with Alessia on the way to the cafeteria until a brown-haired bundle jumps on me, making me lose the little balance I have. I catch her by the thighs to prevent us from falling to the ground.
- "Oh my Onita, I missed you so much!"
- "Alexia," I chuckle. "It was just a morning!"
- "That’s already way too long. I want to see my crazy friend in class!"
I laugh as she hugs me tighter. This position must look hilarious to the others. It’s exactly what I needed after this disastrous start to the day.
- "Putellas, get down immediately," a voice I know too well commands.
My roommate must still be traumatized by Lucy to have listened so quickly. I turn to see her with a stern expression on her face. I simply adjust my backpack properly, then turn on my heel towards the cafeteria with Alexia, who places her arm over my shoulders.
- "Is there any tension in the air with Bronze?" she asks hesitantly.
- "We’ll talk about it later," I reply simply. "How was your morning otherwise?"
- "Calm... Too calm," she sighs. "I really missed you. Plus, I’m with Alba now. I have to behave seriously."
- "Oh, don’t say that," I laugh. "I’m sure she’s not as serious as she pretends to be, little Alba."
- "Oh, not her... But she makes sure that I am."
- "Hey! I’m not that bad," replies Alba, who must have overheard us.
- "Prove us wrong then," I challenge her. "Let your sister live a little!"
- "Well, she lived with you! She only had comments about talking too much in her file."
- "Oh, they gave you your comments? We weren’t so lucky. They only said they couldn’t agree on me."
- "Not surprising," Alba mocks. "Do you have a good class?" she continues.
- "Eh. I have a bitch who’s taken me as a scapegoat."
- "What’s her name?"
- "Korbin, if I remember correctly."
- "Ouch..." she comments. "Avoid her as much as possible. She’s a pain."
- "I noticed. Do you know her? If so, you’ll need to tell me everything you know about her."
- "No problem," she smiles. "We’ll talk about it at the table."
She winks at me before moving forward in line. I realize this is the first sensible conversation I’ve had with Alba. I mean, I talk to everyone around the table, but never one-on-one. The only people who’ve had that privilege are Alexia and Leah. They were the only ones I focused on because I feel close to them. I regret not opening up more to others. I now understand what Mapi meant when she said I was so hooked on Lucy that I could barely talk about my friends. In reality, I gave her so much importance that I didn’t give the same to the other people around me. I think this distance will show me all the things I’ve been missing out on.
Monday, January 18; 5:00 PM - Classroom
I pack up my things as soon as the Alba rings. I absolutely hate my first classes. I just endured two hours of accounting, and I’d be lying if I said I understood anything. It’s a subject that bores me so much that I don’t wait for permission to start packing my bag. I’m the first one standing when the teacher gives the green light to leave.
“In a rush?” Alessia asks, holding me back.
“Uh, yeah. I need to see Wiegman about something personal. I’ll catch up with you in the common room when I’m done.”
“Didn’t you say you’d study in Bronze’ office after your classes?”
“Oh, right. I changed my mind. I’ll study with you guys, so you can help me with what I didn’t understand if that’s okay.”
“No, not at all. I’d be happy to.”
“Cool,” I say with a small smile. “See you later then.”
I quickly escape from that hellish classroom, heading straight to Wiegman’s office as I mentioned. I know the way perfectly, having been there several times already. I don’t hesitate to knock on the
 door. I open it when I’m given permission to do so.
“Good aft-”
I stop in my tracks when I see not one, but two pairs of eyes staring at me.
“Well, hello,  Ona. What brings you here?”
“I wanted to discuss something with you. I can come back later if I’m interrupting.”
“Don’t be silly, we were just finishing up,” she says. “Come sit next to your supervisor. It shouldn’t bother you to talk in front of her, right?”
She couldn’t have picked a worse time to be here. I must be cursed; there’s no other explanation. Having no other choice, I shake my head before closing the door behind me. I move as slowly as possible to the empty chair next to  Lucy, placing my bag between my legs. My pulse quickens, and I can’t control it.
“What did you want to discuss?” she asks.
How did I end up in this situation? I should have left. The topic I want to discuss isn’t one I should address in front of  Lucy. Anxiety takes over me. I lower my head to avoid facing them directly, but it doesn’t stop me from feeling their eyes on me. I shake my head briefly to regain my composure. Her presence should not influence my decision. I’ve had enough time to think it over during the night. I take a deep breath. I’m ready to defend my point if necessary.
“I want to go back to my room,” I blurt out like a bombshell.
With my eyes lowered, I can’t see their reactions. Judging by the silence that follows, I doubt it’s a good one. Surprise, maybe. I gather my courage and raise my head to indeed see that expression on their faces, at least on Wiegman’s.
“I’m feeling better,” I assert confidently. “I still have restless nights, but I’m not having any more episodes. I’ve already caused enough trouble for those around me because of my personal issues.”
Laughter fills the room. I quickly regret meeting my supervisor’s gaze. It’s hard and filled with anger.
“Are you kidding me?” she hisses. “Are we talking about those dark circles under your eyes? You can hide them all you want, but it doesn’t work with me. I absolutely do not agree with this room change.”
And there it is, as expected. I’m screwed. Damn observant! I thought she hadn’t noticed. We both turn to Wiegman, waiting for his decision. She scratches his head while observing us closely. I’ve noticed it’s a habit when she’s thinking. She looks back and forth between us before finally focusing on me.
“Why do you want this change, Ona?”
“I’ve already troubled my supervisor enough. She’s losing sleep because of me, and I don’t want that to continue.”
“She volunteered for this. She’s doing it willingly. Unless you’ve changed your mind, Ms.  Bronze?”
I sense agitation next to me. She’s probably seething right now. I won’t come out unscathed from this meeting.
“Absolutely not,” she growls.
“Good. In that case, it’s up to you to decide what’s best for your student.”
“Her episodes are unpredictable,” she responds. “There’s no way she can return to her room right now.”
The tone she uses sends shivers down my spine. I don’t even dare look at her anymore. She’s going to hate me after this… Maybe that’s what I was aiming for when I made this decision. I raise my eyes to our principal when she speaks again.
“So the matter is settled,” she says, causing my shoulders to slump in defeat. “Don’t feel embarrassed about such small things,  Ona. We’re here to help you, don’t forget that. We were just talking about the remarkable progress you’ve made in your behavior.”
“Um… right,” I respond indifferently. “Can I go now? My friends are waiting for me.”
- "Yes, of course, you can go."
- "Thank you for seeing me. Goodbye."
I stand up and sling my bag over my shoulder. I head for the door, feeling the weight of  Lucy's eyes on my back.
- "You can leave too, Miss Bronze. We were finished."
I suddenly pale. Damn! I hear her thank Wiegman as I make a run for it to get out of there. I was on a good track until I heard her after slamming the door.
- "Not so fast, Batlle!"
Ouch. It's not a good sign when she uses my last name. I do the exact opposite of what she asked, running towards the exit. I was about to reach the door when  Lucy couldn't control her momentum in the chase and ended up crashing into me as I stopped. Her body pins mine against the door before she grabs me by the collar of my jacket. She forcibly drags me to a room I recognize as the restroom when we arrive. She immediately locks the door behind us to prevent me from escaping.
- "What the hell is your problem?" I snap.
- "My problem?!" she exclaims. "What about yours? You've been avoiding me like the plague since this morning! You haven't said a word to me, and now I find you in Wiegman's office asking for a room change? When exactly were you planning to tell me, huh?"
I've never seen her this angry before. She's so red with rage that I don't even dare to speak. I'm paralyzed. She seems to notice my fear because she closes her eyes for a moment. I could have taken the opportunity to slip away if she weren't standing in front of the door. I don't feel ready to face her now. I probably never will be. But I know she won't let me out of here without getting her answers, thanks to those two determined emerald jewels of hers.
- "Answer me. Explain yourself, or... I don't know. Do something!"
Her tone is harsh, and she's losing patience.  Lucy has never been someone who loses patience. My silence is affecting her more than I imagined. I lower my head, trying to come up with some reasonable excuse for what I've done, but what's the point? There’s none that can replace the truth.
- "I-I can't,  Lucy."
- "Can't what?"
- "Act like nothing happened! You rejected me, and I accept that, but... But don't blame me for distancing myself. I've been hurt by rejection enough in my life. I don't want it to happen again."
Her shoulders slump at my response. It was like she just realized the consequences of her decision.
- " Ona..." she says in a strangely calmer voice. "I-"
- "No, shut up. I don't care about the reasons, okay? I don't even know if there are any, but I understood your choice. You can't or you won't. I don't know, but the result is the same. Either way, I can't let myself develop any further feelings for you."
- "It's my fault we've come to this... I should have maintained my professionalism and avoided giving you false hope."
I laugh bitterly. I don't regret how I feel about her at all. It's her reaction I regret. I say nothing, preferring to play along with her.
- "Yeah, maybe you should have, but it's too late now."
- "I never wanted things to get to this point,  Ona. I-I thought we could stay friends, that I could help you. That's all I was trying to do."
- "You don't get it," I spit out.
She doesn't understand that it's her that I need, the relationship she's denying me. She reignited something in me that had been destroyed in my downward spiral. I'd never felt as good as I did with her by my side. I take a deep breath as I see her watching me curiously. If she thinks I'm going to make it easy for her by saying all this, she's dreaming. Who knows why she doesn’t want me? Maybe she’s seeing someone else, like that girl from the other night. They seemed close and she was pretty cute. I shake my head to get that image out of my mind. It’s none of my business.
- "Forget it. I-I... You know, today I realized that I've deprived myself of so much by focusing on you. I never wanted to feel these things for you, but it's not something you can control. I can't turn back now. Just when I thought I had finally discovered the real you..." I murmur thoughtfully.
- "Nothing is stopping us from continuing..." she murmurs, almost desperately.
- "N-no... I-I'm really sorry... B-but, I need to step back. That’s all I’m asking. If you care about me even a little, then... Stay out of my life until I need you again."
These words hurt, but it's the only solution I've found if I don't want to lose her entirely and waste the progress I've made. Running away has always been my way of protecting myself. I know  Lucy can understand that. She’s always been able to read me with unsettling ease. That’s probably why she looks so sad. She knows it’s the only way to keep me intact. She’s the one who transformed me, but she could also be the one who destroys me in the blink of an eye. That thought terrifies me. I should never have gotten so attached to her or developed these feelings. And then my friends wonder why I don’t open up anymore. It was to avoid moments like this that I stopped trusting new people. I should have kept going down that path. You always end up disappointed, even with someone as perfect as  Lucy.
- "Okay," she resigns. "I want you to know that I never wanted things to get to this point, but I'll give you the space you need so I don’t lose you completely..."
I avoid looking at her so she doesn’t see how much her words affect me and how they sting my heart. She doesn't even try to stop me or change my mind. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive her for putting barriers between us. No matter what she says, I know our relationship isn’t meaningless to her. Or maybe it is. Maybe I’ve been wrong all along.
- "Thank you for respecting my choice..." I say, not without difficulty.
- "It’s not without conditions."
My jaw tightens. How dare she ask something of me? Seeing that I’m not planning to respond, she continues.
- "I’ll give you the space you need, but you’re still sleeping in my room. I’m also offended that you wanted to talk to Wiegman about it before consulting me."
- "To forget about this whole thing, I need to cut ties completely..." I admit. "I knew you’d never let me leave, which is why I went to her directly without consulting you."
- "I figured as much, but that’s not going to happen," she says, frowning. "No matter what happened between us, there’s no way I’m going to let you spiral down again."
- "I’m not spiraling."
- "I know you. This is my condition,  Ona. I also want to keep our evening classes. Just because we had this little falling out doesn’t mean you should jeopardize your education."
I scoff at her words. So this is just a "little falling out" to her? I doubt she understands my feelings for her, then.
- "I’m not planning to jeopardize my education," I reply coldly. "But I’m not keeping those classes. I asked Alessia to help me instead, and she agreed."
My answer seems to surprise her. She doesn’t realize how thoroughly I’ve thought this through. She almost looks disappointed. Knowing that I’m still attending classes, she has no reason to forbid it.
- "I guess that’s non-negotiable...?"
- "Exactly. I need to spend time with my friends and distance myself from you."
- "Very well..." she sighs. "But don’t completely ignore me like you have the last couple of days. I want you to talk to me at least a little."
- "Yeah, whatever you say, Commander. Can I go now that the negotiations are over?"
- "Hmm... I’ll see you tonight," she says as she opens the door.
- "Yeah. I’ll probably be with Alexia before I come."
I walk out with my head held high. I feel relieved of a burden after confessing my feelings and proud of not backing down for once. But that confidence fades once I’m away from her. I have no idea how I’ll feel in the coming days... I’ve focused so much on her these past few months that it feels like I can’t live without her, and the consequences are starting to scare me. I take a deep breath when I get outside. I’m determined to prove to her—and to myself—that I can live without her. If I can make her regret her choice in the process, that would be the ultimate goal. I stop thinking about her when I reach the common room. All my friends are there. I join Alessia and Alexia, who are sitting around a table working. Well, if you can call it that. It looks more like they’re chatting than anything else.
- "Oh, Onita!"
- "Don’t start calling me that," I grimace.
- "I think it’s a cute nickname," Alessia comments.
- "Would you prefer ‘Princess’ instead?" Alexia teases. "I heard that one’s making the rounds at school."
I sigh and nod. Unfortunately, I think I’d rather it be "Onita" spreading instead of the other one. It’s going to remind me of  Lucy, and that’s exactly what I would have preferred to avoid. The first days are going to be very long. I take out my notes while replying.
- "Yeah, it seems so... I wish it weren't the case. I don’t even know how they could have found out."
- "Who knows," Ale smiles. "I heard you were at Wiegman ’s?"
- "Yeah. Bronze was there too."
- "And...?" she asks hesitantly, which makes me shrug.
- "If you want to talk amongst yourselves, I can step out," Alessia offers.
- "No, don’t worry. We’ll talk about it tonight."
- "Hey Ona, you’re finally here!" Alba enthusiastically says. "Want to play a game of foosball?" she suggests.
- "Not tonight, sorry. Alessia owes me some tutoring and it might take a while... I’m really completely lost in my new subjects."
- "To that extent?" Alessia asks. "It’s not that complicated."
- "Oh yes! It’s like Chinese to me, seriously! How can such things even exist?" I grumble.
- "Okay, I get it," Alessia chuckles. "We’ll review everything from the beginning."
I nod with a small smile. I move my chair closer to her with my stuff. I just grab some scratch paper, as I used to do with Lucy... Alessia returns my smile and gets into the groove of going over our lessons for the day. I hope the motivation will be with me; otherwise, I’ll never make it through the year.
Monday, January 18; 8:30 PM - Ona and Alexia's Room
- "How could I have missed so much?"
I’ve just confessed everything to Alexia. When I say everything, I mean the entire story between Lucy and me. I couldn’t keep it to myself knowing how I’m going to feel in the coming days. She would have found out something was wrong anyway, and I doubt she would have stayed quiet without getting answers this time. All I can say is that she is not at all happy. She’s upset that I hid the progress of this relationship from her. I bite my lip, realizing the stupidity of excluding Ale from my life. I should have confided in her rather than Lucy. Her eyes did light up when I admitted that I’ve been sleeping with her recently or when I explained how much I care about her, even now.
- "Are you in love with her?"
- "No... I said I care about her, not that I’m in love with her."
- "It was just a simple question... You know, you’re allowed to be."
- "No, I’m not allowed," I sigh. "I just told you she turned me away. Developing feelings for her would destroy me..."
- "Good grief," she sighs. "Can’t you hear yourself? It can’t be like this. Didn’t you see the way she looked at me at lunch when I was on your back? I thought she was going to kill me with that hurt look!"
- "You’re exaggerating," I roll my eyes.
- "No, I assure you... There must be another reason she doesn’t want to develop your relationship."
- "Whatever... I extended an olive branch for her to change her mind, and she didn’t take it. She accepted me stepping away rather than keeping me by her side. It’s pretty clear as a response, don’t you think? Besides, this break won’t hurt me. She just made it clear that I need to continue being wary of people."
- "I doubt she wants you to react like this..."
- "I don’t care. I just need to clear my mind, and this is the only way I can do that."
- "Alright... If you say so."
I put down the pencil I had between my fingers and let my sketchbook fall between my thighs. It’s been so long since I touched my drawing materials that I’d forgotten the relaxing effect they gave me. As far back as I remember, they were always my best means of escape. Staying in my room with Alexia was probably the best idea I had to escape Lucy for the evening. Lucy hadn’t forgotten that I owed her an explanation, so she dragged me to come with her, but I admit I should have thought of that from the start.
- "Lucy had become my pillar, but I need to prove to myself that I can live without her."
- "You’ve become addicted to her, huh?"
I frown when she says that. It’s not the first time someone has said that to me. Mapi was the first, and I’m starting to question it.
- "No... Haven’t you been talking to Mapi?"
- "Oh, no... Not at all," she mocks.
- "Of course! What did she tell you?"
- "Nothing. She wanted you to tell me yourself. I assure you," she smiles. "But now that you’ve explained everything, I can finally understand what she was talking about, and sorry for you, but I can only agree with her. You’re in love with Lucy, and you’re denying it."
- "That’s not true," I protest.
- "Yes, it is. Just admit it."
- "Definitely not."
- "Say it. It will set you free, you’ll see."
- "No," I say, shaking my head. "You don’t understand," I say desperately, making her sigh.
- "Come here."
She pats her bed. I sigh but join her, grabbing my pillow and hugging it like a stuffed animal. I then curl up when she forces me to rest my head on her shoulder. My eyes fix on a point as I lose myself in my thoughts. Ale’s strokes in my hair, meant to relax me, have the opposite effect. I hate her. That’s how I feel about Lucy right now. All the recent moments of my life are related to her. She has taken up too much space, and now I have to live with this idea while trying to resume my life before she came along. The problem is, I don’t know how it works anymore. She took care of everything. It’s as if she did my thinking for me. I wasn’t ready for everything to turn out like this. I suffocate as I release the lump that had been stuck in my throat for too long.
- "Let it out."
That’s all it takes for my tears to start flowing down my cheeks. I can’t control myself anymore. Everything comes like a tornado. I let myself fall against Alexia, who opens her arms without hesitation. I never thought it would hurt this much.
- "I love her, damn it."
I close my eyes as Alexia encourages me to let go of everything my mind has prevented me from doing. I haven’t cried this much since I’ve been in this damn camp. I’ve felt sad more than once in my life, but I’ve never expressed it so much to others. I feel like I’ve become sensitive to everything. I collapse onto my roommate’s lap as she lets me unload my emotions. She achieved what she wanted. I feel drained. I’ve poured out everything I could until I ran out of strength. Alexia holds me against her, giving me soothing pats on the top of my head to calm me down. I look pathetic with my pillow clutched against me. We stay like this for a while until a muffled noise is heard at the door. I straighten up with my back to it to wipe my face as best as I can. The door opens without permission.
- "Oh, hello Bronze..."
I freeze at Ale’s clearly deliberate hint. I can only mentally thank her for making me realize it was her behind me. I was expecting her if I came too late to her room. I think curfew must be approaching. I squeeze my eyes shut to compose myself before facing her.
- "I was told I’d find you here," she says. "Curfew is coming soon, and it seems you still need to take a shower."
- "I was about to come," I mumble.
- "Hmm... I just wanted to make sure. I was afraid you might skip out on me despite our conversation."
I haven’t discussed this part with Alexia. I didn’t want to rub salt in the wound for now. I guess I’ll have to talk to her about it tomorrow now that she has brought it up.
- "I’m coming. You can go. I’ll tidy up first."
- "I’ll wait."
I sigh and grab my sketchbook from my bed with a brusque motion. I put it away in the cupboard with the rest of the materials, taking care not to turn around even once. It’s only when I pick up my jacket from the desk that she’s likely to see my disheveled state. I approach Alexia, who has already gotten up in the meantime. I give her a huge hug of thanks. I struggle to detach my head from her neck. I imagine her smiling to give her a rare and intense contact from me.
- "Rest, " she whispers in my ear. "It will be okay."
I nod and give her a lingering kiss on the cheek. She smiles softly as we wish each other goodnight. I put my hood over my head to hide the aftermath of my evening. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Lucy, who immediately comments as I pass by her. I simply keep my head down so she doesn’t see my face as we walk.
- "I thought you weren’t coming..." she murmurs. "Sorry for barging in."
- "Trust reigns," I snap. "But it’s no problem."
- "How was your day?" she tries to continue the conversation.
- "Great. Yours?"
- "Good... And your new class?"
- "I’ve had better."
- "With Alexia, I assume."
- "Not just that."
My short, undeveloped responses make her sigh. I would have loved to tell her about my day, but I promised myself to keep my distance from now on. It’s always her who gets my debrief normally, but today it’s not the case. I’ve done it with Alexia and Amba for once. We talked a lot about that pest Korbin. I learned a few things about her, but nothing crazy. All I learned is that she’s not a person worth hanging out with. We finish the walk to her room in silence. I directly look for my pajamas and clothes for tomorrow before locking myself in the bathroom. I stay there for a good half hour for a shower. When I come out, Lucy is already ready for bed but absorbed in her laptop on her lap. I ignore her and lie down on my small bed. I still wish her goodnight before turning my back to avoid the small light she left on her side. She seems determined to leave me alone, as she responds with a simple goodnight in return.
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lividstar · 6 months ago
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ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤTHE CITY OF LOVE
ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ Chapter Eight: A Great Friend
ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ㅤ‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ < previous | next >
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masterpost
៚ wc: 11.5k (total: ???)
៚ fluff, angst, fashion designer!hongjoong x model!reader (ft. personal assistant!seonghwa & photographer!wooyoung), slowburn, strangers to lovers, soulmates au if you squint, do french people actually say bonjour irl?
៚ playlist !
៚ Your day immediately turns eventful at the very second you open your eyes, receiving a congratulatory message from Hongjoong which was apparently because of your sudden popularity that skyrocketed overnight, following your first photoshoot. As you grapple with this sudden surge of attention, Seonghwa offers a welcome distraction by suggesting you assist Hongjoong with his designs for the upcoming autumn collection, all of which are still in progress.
a/n: apologies in advance, but it should probably be in your best interest to expect slow updates starting from now on 🥲 i’ve been getting busier and busier lately so it might take a little while to upload the following chapters ㅠㅠ lmk what you think about this chapter! reading people’s feedback cheers me up a lot, and i’d really appreciate them especially rn since i’m having a hard time haha
tags: @beabatiny
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You awaken to the soft chime of a message notification, the early morning light casting a gentle glow in your room. Blinking away sleep, you reach for your phone on the bedside table, the screen glowing softly in the dim light. The message is from Hongjoong, and your heart skips a beat as you read it.
Seems like you got a good head start in the industry. Congratulations!
Confused, you sit up, rubbing your eyes and trying to make sense of his words. You quickly type back, asking him what was going on, as you had just woken up. Hongjoong’s response comes swiftly.
The pictures from your first photoshoot were uploaded last night and they’re currently going viral.
Your eyes widen in disbelief, and you hurriedly exit the conversation to check the social media platforms associated with Hongjoong’s brand. The notifications are overwhelming. As you scroll through the posts, your face appears repeatedly—each shot capturing a different angle of the Parisian venue, each pose more captivating than the last. The comments are a flurry of excitement and admiration. Each one is a testament to the impact the photos have had.
“Who is this stunning new face?”
“She looks like she stepped out of a painting!”
“Her expression is so captivating; I can’t stop looking!”
“Such a refreshing presence, she’s going to be huge!”
“She exudes this ethereal vibe—like a modern-day muse!”
If there was one thing you were expecting the moment you stepped into the industry, it was definitely not this. Well, you probably should’ve. Your hands tremble slightly as you continue scrolling, unable to fully grasp the scale of the attention. It’s surreal to see yourself through the eyes of so many strangers, each comment adding another layer to the overwhelming reality.
A hand ghosts over your mouth in shock, trying to stifle the gasp that escapes. “Is this real?” you whisper to yourself, the room around you suddenly feeling too small, too quiet compared to the roaring storm of notifications and messages on your phone.
Rushing to the bathroom, you splash cold water on your face, the chill jolting you awake. You even slap your cheeks lightly a few times, trying to dispel the surreal feeling that’s settled over you. The mirror reflects your wide-eyed expression, confirming that this is, in fact, happening. You stare at your reflection, the reality of your newfound attention slowly sinking in. It feels like stepping into another world, one where your life has suddenly taken a dramatic turn.
Still in a daze, you return to your bed, clutching your phone tightly. You reopen the conversation with Hongjoong, asking him if any of this was real. You could’ve just been having a highly realistic dream, for all you know. On the other side of the screen, Hongjoong can almost sense your disbelief.
As real as it can be.
But even through the text, you sense a smile, a quiet confidence in his words. Just as you’re beginning to process everything, your phone rings again. It's Seonghwa. His voice is warm, laced with a hint of amusement as he says, “You’re quite the hit lately. Have you heard of it?”
You let out a small laugh, still overwhelmed. “Yes, Hongjoong actually beat you to it.”
There’s a brief pause, and Seonghwa’s voice becomes thoughtful. “Hongjoong texted you first? That’s... unusual.”
“Huh?”
Seonghwa’s mind lingers on this revelation. Hongjoong, known for his reserved nature, seldom initiates contact with others. He was the type to keep his thoughts to himself, preferring the solitude of his creative processes. For him to reach out so directly is… well, it’s unexpected. He wonders if there’s more to this than meets the eye, but he quickly shakes off the thought, not wanting to jump to conclusions.
He continues, his tone lightening again, “Nevermind that. But seriously, congratulations! This is huge.”
You sigh, a mixture of happiness and anxiety bubbling up. “I still can’t believe all of this is real. It feels like things are progressing too quickly, and while I’m happy, there’s this overwhelming feeling somewhere deep inside.”
Seonghwa’s voice softens with empathy. “It’s completely normal to feel that way, especially since this all came out of nowhere. It can be a lot to take in at once.”
You nod, though he can’t see you, and explain your usual method of coping with major news—pushing it aside until you’re ready to fully process it. “So… what I’m saying is I kinda need to put that method to use right now. Is there anything I can help with over there? I need something to focus on, just to distract myself.”
Seonghwa thinks for a moment, considering your offer. “Well, you could help bring some of Hongjoong’s designs to life. Unfortunately, he rarely accepts help, preferring to work alone because it helps him focus. But I’ll mention it to him and see what he says.”
Seonghwa hangs up the phone, placing it gently on the table in front of him. The lounge area of the building is quiet, save for the soft hum of distant conversations and the occasional clink of cups. He leans back in his chair, lost in thought about the conversation he just had with you. Just then, as if on cue, Hongjoong strolls into the lounge, his presence commanding a subtle shift in the room's atmosphere. He spots Seonghwa and heads over, a slight smile playing on his lips.
“Things are turning out well for her, aren’t they?” Hongjoong remarks, settling into the lounge chair across Seonghwa. His tone carries a hint of pride, and Seonghwa can see a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes.
Seonghwa, remembering something from the call, tilts his head slightly. “You know, she mentioned you were the first to tell her about all the attention she’s getting. That’s... not exactly your usual style.”
Hongjoong raises an eyebrow, a flicker of something unreadable passing over his face. “What do you mean? I just wanted to congratulate her, that’s all.”
Seonghwa isn’t convinced and leans forward, a playful glint in his eyes. “You don’t even text first when it comes to both me and Wooyoung. What’s the deal?”
Hongjoong chuckles, shaking his head as if dismissing the notion. “It’s nothing. Just thought she should know.”
But Seonghwa isn’t buying the nonchalant act. His eyes narrow playfully, clearly intrigued by this rare deviation from Hongjoong’s usual behavior. Hongjoong, noticing the look, quickly grabs a crumpled paper from his blazer pocket and tosses it at Seonghwa, laughing. “Stop reading too much into it. There’s nothing there.”
Seonghwa catches the paper, laughing as well despite not being entirely convinced. He decides to change the subject, leaning back in his chair. “So, how are the designs for the autumn collection coming along?”
Hongjoong’s eyes light up at the mention of his work. “I’ve been making good progress with the tailoring and even started on some new designs. Though I left my sketchbook in my office today, I’ve got some photos of the pieces.”
He leans forward, pulling out his phone and handing it to Seonghwa. As Seonghwa scrolls through the images, he’s greeted with a series of designs that reflect the collection’s theme. The first few designs are ethereal yet grounded, capturing the essence of the season. There’s a long, flowing coat made of rich, burnt orange wool, adorned with delicate embroidery of falling leaves. The next outfit is a layered ensemble featuring a deep forest green velvet dress, cinched at the waist with a leather belt, and paired with a capelet that mimics the texture of fallen leaves.
Each piece exudes a sense of elegance and warmth, perfectly encapsulating the quiet beauty of autumn. The use of earthy tones, mixed with subtle metallic accents, creates a harmonious blend of nature-inspired elements and modern fashion. Seonghwa can see the meticulous attention to detail in every stitch and fold, each piece a testament to Hongjoong’s artistic vision. It was admirable, as always.
As he continues scrolling, Seonghwa’s eyes widen slightly when he stumbles upon an unexpected photo—a candid shot of you holding a cat, your face soft with a serene smile. It’s a stark contrast to the fashion designs, capturing a moment of unguarded warmth and simplicity. Seonghwa’s mind raced with questions, his curiosity piqued even further. Why does Hongjoong have this photo, and what does it signify?
Quickly, he scrolls back to the fashion designs, masking his surprise. He hands the phone back to Hongjoong, his expression composed but his thoughts swirling. “These are incredible, Hongjoong. The way you’ve captured the essence of autumn is truly impressive. I especially like the use of textures and the color palette—it feels very grounded yet still has that ethereal quality.”
Hongjoong nods, pleased with the feedback. “Thanks, I’ve been working on capturing that balance. Autumn has this quiet, reflective beauty, and I wanted that to come through in the designs.”
Seonghwa nods thoughtfully, but his mind lingers on the photo he saw. He can’t help but wonder if there’s something more going on between you and Hongjoong, something beneath the surface that he hasn’t yet understood. As he hands the phone back, he decides to keep this little discovery to himself, at least for now, storing it away as something to discuss with Wooyoung later.
Clearing his throat, Seonghwa leans forward, his tone thoughtful. “You know, I was talking to her earlier, and she mentioned feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the sudden exposure. It’s a lot for anyone to handle, especially someone so new to the industry. She was wondering if there might be any way she could help with the tailoring of the designs. Not only to get some practical experience but also to have something to focus on, something to keep her grounded while everything else is so chaotic.”
Hongjoong listens intently, his expression contemplative. Seonghwa continues, “I know you usually prefer to work alone, to have complete control over your creative process. And I get that—it’s part of what makes your designs so unique. But maybe just this once, it could be beneficial to have an extra pair of hands. She’s genuinely interested in learning and contributing, and I think it could be a good experience for both of you.”
As Seonghwa speaks, he watches Hongjoong closely, trying to gauge his reaction. Before he can elaborate further, Hongjoong cuts him off with a reassuring smile. “I don’t mind at all. We can start tomorrow.”
Seonghwa’s eyes widened slightly in surprise. That was a quick agreement, far quicker than he expected. “Good, alright. I’ll inform her,” Seonghwa says, still processing Hongjoong’s easy acquiescence. He hesitates for a moment, then adds, almost tentatively, “Or do you want to do it instead...?”
Hongjoong’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”
Seonghwa quickly waves him off, standing up from his seat. “Oh, no, no, nothing. I’ll let her know.” He makes a quick exit, leaving a bewildered Hongjoong behind, still puzzled over the odd exchange.
As Seonghwa strides towards the elevator, the gears in his mind are turning. The ease with which Hongjoong agreed to your involvement, coupled with the candid photo and the early morning text, is starting to form a pattern in Seonghwa’s mind—a pattern that suggests something more than just professional interest.
As the elevator doors open, Seonghwa is met by Wooyoung, who looks ready to step out. Without a second thought, Seonghwa gently but firmly shoves Wooyoung back inside, pressing the button for the floor where his office is located.
“What the hell—” Wooyoung begins, startled by the abruptness of Seonghwa's actions.
Seonghwa cuts him off, a serious look on his face. “There’s something important we need to discuss. Just trust me.”
Wooyoung, sensing the gravity in Seonghwa’s tone, complies without further protest. As they reach Seonghwa’s office, Seonghwa gestures for Wooyoung to double-check the lock on the door, ensuring their privacy. “Just in case Hongjoong walks in.”
Wooyoung complies, yet thete was a puzzled look on his face. “Hongjoong? What does he have to do with this?”
They settled into Seonghwa’s office, the atmosphere thick with anticipation. Seonghwa starts, his tone hushed. “Alright, so get this: Hongjoong texted her first thing this morning to congratulate her on the viral photos. Can you believe that?”
Wooyoung’s eyes widened in surprise. “No way! Hongjoong? Mr. ‘I-Don’t-Do-Small-Talk’? Like, for real?”
Seonghwa nods, his expression mirroring Wooyoung’s shock. “For real. And it gets better. He even had a candid photo of her on his phone. You know, not a posed shot or anything, just her holding a cat. She looked so natural and relaxed. I accidentally saw it while scrolling through his design pictures.”
Wooyoung leans forward, clearly intrigued. “A candid photo? From Hongjoong? That’s... well, I definitely didn’t see that coming. What else did you see?” he asked, pushing for more details.
Seonghwa goes into a contemplative gaze. “That’s the thing, Wooyoung. He never keeps personal photos like that. And then, when I mentioned her feeling overwhelmed by all the attention, he was totally understanding. And, get this, he agreed to let her help with the tailoring for his autumn collection without even hesitating.”
Wooyoung's eyebrows shoot up. “Whoa, hold on. Doesn’t he literally hate people interfering with his work? What do you mean he agreed just like that?”
Seonghwa holds his hands up, still a bit in disbelief himself. “That’s what I don’t get either. No arguments, no reservations. Just ‘sure, she can start tomorrow.’ It’s so out of character for him. Usually, he’s all about keeping things strictly professional and handling everything himself.”
Wooyoung leans back, a thoughtful look crossing his face. “So, let me get this straight. Hongjoong, who never texts first, texts her before anyone else. He’s got a candid, personal photo of her on his phone. And now, he’s okay with her helping out with his designs? That’s…”
Seonghwa nods. “Exactly. And when I asked him about texting her, he brushed it off, saying he just wanted to congratulate her. But I know Hongjoong. He doesn’t do things like this for just anyone. Hell, he doesn’t even text us first, and we've known him for years.”
Wooyoung grins, clearly entertained. “So, what do you think? Is he interested in her? It sure sounds like it.” This was definitely worth the gossip drought that lasted for weeks.
Seonghwa shrugs, though his eyes gleam with curiosity. “I don’t know, but it’s definitely out of the ordinary. I mean, Hongjoong’s not one to show personal interest in anyone, let alone a model he just met.”
Wooyoung clasps his hands together, shaking his head. “This is going to be interesting. We should keep an eye on this. Maybe they’re just friends, or maybe there’s something more. Either way, it’s unusual for Hongjoong.”
Seonghwa and Wooyoung exchange a knowing glance, an idea slowly taking root in Wooyoung's mind. He leans forward, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “You know,” Wooyoung begins, “we could give them a little nudge. Like, play matchmaker. It could be fun.”
Seonghwa raises an eyebrow, hesitating. “We shouldn’t make things awkward between them. What if they’re just forming a friendship? We don’t want to overstep.”
Wooyoung waves off the concern, his enthusiasm undeterred. “I get that, but think about it. Most great love stories start with friendship, right? They’re already getting along well, and there’s clearly something different about how Hongjoong is acting lately. Maybe it’s worth exploring.”
Seonghwa sighs, shaking his head with a faint smile. “You’re incorrigible, you know that? But I suppose you have a point. It’s just... Hongjoong’s been very private about his personal life. We shouldn’t push him into something he’s not ready for.”
Wooyoung nods thoughtfully. “Well, yeah, but he’s been alone for as long as I’ve known him. He’s always so independent and hardworking, constantly putting the company and his designs first. Wouldn’t it be nice for him to have someone who reminds him to take a breather, to enjoy life a little?”
Seonghwa looks away, pondering Wooyoung’s words. He knows that Hongjoong is fiercely dedicated to his work, often to the point of neglecting his own well-being. It’s a quality they all admire, but it also worries them. Hongjoong’s solitary nature, while admirable in its focus, sometimes seemed to be a shield against something deeper.
At the same time, a part of Seonghwa agrees with Wooyoung. Hongjoong deserves to experience love, to be taught what it means to love and be loved in return. To have someone who sees past the professional facade and connects with him on a deeper level. Hongjoong has always been the rock for everyone else, the leader who guides and supports, but who supports him? Seonghwa knows that beneath Hongjoong’s calm exterior is someone who longs for a connection, even if he doesn’t consciously acknowledge it.
Seonghwa finally exhales, nodding in agreement. “Alright, maybe you’re right. He does deserve that chance. But we need to be subtle, okay? We can’t just throw them into situations and expect magic to happen.”
Wooyoung grins, practically bouncing in his seat. “Of course, of course. We’ll be subtle. Well, as subtle as we can be.” He chuckles, already plotting. “We could start with simple things. Like arranging for them to spend more time together, under the guise of work, of course.”
Seonghwa nods, though he can’t help but smile at Wooyoung’s eagerness. „Fine, but let’s keep this quiet. The last thing we need is Hongjoong finding out and feeling pressured or uncomfortable. We’ll just... create opportunities for them to bond naturally?”
Wooyoung’s eyes light up with excitement. “Yes, exactly! This is going to be great. Just trust me on this one.”
Seonghwa sighs, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “Alright, but no wild schemes, okay? We’re not in a rom-com here.”
Wooyoung laughs, raising his hands in mock surrender. “No wild schemes.”
The sound of fabric being meticulously fed through the sewing machine filled the room, but despite the soft hum, your mind was anything but calm. The task at hand was supposed to be a distraction from the whirlwind of unexpected fame and the gnawing anxiety about potential backlash—something that often follows a sudden rise to internet prominence. However, the complexities of threading needles and manipulating fabrics were proving to be more challenging than anticipated. You couldn’t help but think that perhaps this was a bad idea, a sentiment only reinforced by the knots of frustration building in your stomach.
Hongjoong had stepped out to go to the restroom for a moment, giving you a brief respite. It was just enough time to let out a sigh of frustration, your hands pausing their clumsy movements. You were aware of how out of your depth you were, fumbling with the sewing machine in a way that likely confirmed his suspicions. He had asked several times if you needed help, always with a gentle tone that hinted at his concern. But pride—or perhaps a stubborn streak—had kept you from admitting just how lost you felt.
“Maybe I should’ve just volunteered to be burned at the stake in a Salem witch trial—”
“Are you alright?” Hongjoong’s voice sliced through your musings, making you jump slightly. You straightened up quickly, feigning concentration as you adjusted the fabric under the needle. The effort was futile; the moment Hongjoong leaned over your shoulder, his hand resting gently on yours, your cool façade crumbled.
His close proximity, the soft warmth of his hand, and the subtle, intoxicating scent of his cologne were all too distracting. “I’m gonna ask you a question, and I’m gonna need you to answer it in full honesty. Is that okay?”
You swallowed hard, your gaze darting from his hand to his face and then back to the sewing machine. “I... um... sure, go ahead,” you stammered, trying to keep your voice at bay.
“Do you know how to use a sewing machine?” he asked, his tone patient yet direct.
You winced, slumping in your seat as you covered your face with your hands in embarrassment. “I thought it would be easy,” you admitted, your voice muffled by your palms. “But I had no idea it would be so... intricate? I think I’ve used up half my patience already.”
Before you could spiral further into self-recrimination, Hongjoong’s soft laughter broke the tension. It was a soothing sound, yet its proximity sent an unexpected shiver down your spine. He pulled a chair over and sat beside you, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him. You kept your eyes fixed on the sewing machine, too embarrassed to meet his gaze.
“Don’t worry,” he said gently, taking your hand in his once more. “Everyone starts somewhere. Let me guide you through it.”
“Alright, let’s start with the basics,” he began, his voice warm and steady. “First, we need to thread the machine properly. It can be a bit tricky at first, but once you get the hang of it, it becomes second nature.”
He gently guided your fingers to the spool pin, showing you how to place the thread. “Make sure the thread is placed securely here,” he explained, his hand lingering over yours for a moment. “Then, we’ll pull it through the tension disks. This part is crucial because it controls the tension of your stitches. If it’s too loose or too tight, your fabric might bunch up or the stitches might break.”
You nodded, trying to focus on his instructions rather than the slight warmth of his hand. “Got it,” you murmured, glancing at him again. His eyes were intent on the machine, but there was a softness in his gaze.
“Next, we bring the thread down here,” he continued, guiding your hand to the take-up lever. “This part moves up and down as you sew, pulling the thread through the fabric. It’s important to make sure the thread is seated properly in the eye of the lever.”
You tried to mimic his movements, your fingers fumbling slightly. He caught your hesitation and gently corrected your grip, his touch light but firm. “Like this,” he demonstrated, pulling the thread through the lever with practiced ease. “See? It’s all about smooth, even motions.”
You nodded again, feeling a bit more confident but still acutely aware of the slight tension in the air. It wasn’t uncomfortable, just... different. “And finally, we guide the thread through the needle,” he said, his voice low and patient. “This part can be a bit tricky, especially if the needle’s eye is small. Just take your time and don’t rush.”
As you attempted to thread the needle, your hand shook slightly, and you fumbled with the delicate thread. Hongjoong leaned closer, his breath warm against your cheek as he steadied your hand. “Here, let me help,” he offered, his tone gentle. He carefully guided the thread through the needle’s eye, his fingers brushing against yours in the process.
“There we go,” he said with a satisfied smile, leaning back a bit. “Now, let’s get to the sewing part. Start by placing the fabric under the presser foot, like this.” He demonstrated, his hands guiding yours to position the fabric correctly. “Make sure it’s aligned straight with the needle and the edge of the foot.”
You followed his instructions, your eyes focused on the machine but your mind wandering slightly. There was something about this whole situation—the quiet focus, the close proximity, the shared task—that felt nice. You couldn’t help but feel a slight twinge of self-consciousness, wondering if he could sense your awkwardness.
“Now, gently press the pedal to start the machine,” Hongjoong instructed, his hand still lightly resting on yours. “Don’t go too fast; just a slow, steady pace. That’ll give you more control.”
You did as he said, the machine whirring to life as you guided the fabric through. Hongjoong watched closely, offering occasional tips and corrections. “Try to keep your hands steady,” he advised. “And remember, it’s okay to stop and readjust if you need to.”
“Okay, got it,” you replied, focusing intently on the fabric and the machine’s needle. But despite your best efforts, you could feel your heart beating a little faster, your palms slightly sweaty. It was all so new, and the added pressure of having Hongjoong right there, guiding you, was both comforting and nerve-wracking.
As you continued to sew, the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm. Hongjoong’s instructions were clear and patient, and his occasional praise—“Good, that’s perfect,” or “You’re getting the hang of it”—helped to ease your nerves. Still, there were moments when you couldn’t help but feel a slight, almost imperceptible tension. It wasn’t unpleasant, just a subtle awareness of his presence, of the closeness between you as he guided your hands and offered gentle encouragement.
After a few more passes, he smiled at you, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “You’re doing really well,” he said, giving your hand a light squeeze before releasing it. “Just keep practicing, and you’ll be a pro in no time.”
You smiled back, feeling a mix of relief and a strange, fluttering excitement. “Thanks, Hongjoong,” you said, your voice a bit softer than you intended. “I really appreciate your help.”
As you continued to practice, the room was filled with a quiet focus, the sound of the sewing machine blending with the soft rustle of fabrics and the occasional tap of Hongjoong’s fingers on the table as he worked on his designs. The space was filled with mannequins adorned with various pieces in different stages of completion, each a testament to his creativity and skill.
Hongjoong stood by one of the mannequins, testing out different fabrics and adjusting the drape of a garment. It was a half-finished piece, a beautiful autumn-inspired dress, rich with deep, warm hues and delicate detailing. The design was stunning even in its incomplete state, with layers of fabric cascading down in elegant folds. The room, spacious and filled with natural light, was a perfect backdrop for his work, highlighting the textures and colors of his creations.
As you worked, you found yourself unconsciously humming. It was a habit you’d developed over the years, a way to keep yourself company during moments of concentration. The tune was “La Vie en Rose,” a classic melody that had always been a favorite of yours. Lost in the rhythm of your work, you didn’t notice Hongjoong glancing over his shoulder, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he recognized the song.
The peaceful atmosphere continued until you completed your practice piece, checking the fabric carefully. To your delight, it was flawless, and you couldn’t help but let out a small gasp of triumph. You looked up, catching Hongjoong’s eye as he turned towards you, clearly curious about your reaction.
“I think I’m ready to help out,” you announced, holding up the fabric proudly.
Hongjoong smiled, a warm and encouraging expression on his face. “Really? Let's get to work, then.”
You quickly tidied up your workspace, eager to join him. As you approached, you got a closer look at the dress he was working on. It was even more beautiful up close, with detailed stitching and a careful blend of textures. The design was both modern and timeless, capturing the essence of autumn with its rich color palette and sophisticated lines.
On the table next to the mannequin, you noticed Hongjoong’s sketchbook. The sketches inside were detailed and precise, showcasing his vision for the final piece. You couldn’t help but compliment him, your voice filled with genuine admiration. “This looks incredible, Hongjoong. The sketches were already amazing, but seeing it come to life... It’s even better.”
He waved off your praise modestly, a small smile playing on his lips. “It’s not even halfway done yet,” he said, glancing at the dress. “There’s still a lot of work to do. That’s where your help comes in.”
He gestured towards the dress, explaining his vision for the piece. “I need to work on the intricate details around the neckline and sleeves. There’s a specific embroidery pattern I want to incorporate, but it requires a steady hand and a lot of patience. I thought we could split the tasks—I’ll focus on the main body of the dress, and you can help with the embroidery.”
You nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I’d love to help with the embroidery. It sounds like a challenge, but I’m up for it.”
Hongjoong smiled, clearly pleased with your enthusiasm. “Great. I’ll show you the pattern and we can go over the details together. It’s important to get the proportions and spacing just right, especially since the embroidery will be a key feature of the design.”
“For this part,” he said, pointing to a section on the sketch, “we’ll use a simple running stitch to outline the design. It’s straightforward but effective, especially for creating clean lines. The trick is to keep your stitches consistent in length. If they’re too short or too long, it can throw off the balance of the pattern.”
As he demonstrated, you watched closely, noting the way his fingers moved deftly with the needle and thread. His attention to detail was impressive, and it was clear that every element of the design had been carefully considered.
“Next, we’ll add some texture with a chain stitch,” Hongjoong continued, switching to another part of the design. “It’s great for creating a sense of depth and can really make certain areas pop. You’ll want to keep your tension even, not too tight or too loose, so the stitches sit nicely against the fabric.”
As he spoke, you couldn’t help but notice the passion in his eyes. It was evident in the way he talked about each technique, his dedication to his craft shining through. There was something incredibly admirable about his focus and commitment, and it made you feel even more determined to do your best.
Once you both began working, the conversation naturally shifted to lighter topics. Hongjoong broke the comfortable silence first, glancing over at you with a curious expression. “By the way, earlier... you were humming a song. Was it ‘La Vie en Rose’?”
You blinked, momentarily confused. You hadn’t even realized you were humming. “Oh, was I…? Yeah, that’s a favorite of mine,” you admitted with a small chuckle, recalling the familiar melody. “My dad used to play it all the time when I was younger. He had this old recorder, and ‘La Vie en Rose’ was always his go-to song. I guess it just stuck with me.”
Hongjoong listened attentively, a soft smile forming on his lips. “It’s a beautiful song. There’s something timeless about it.”
You nodded, feeling a warm nostalgia wash over you. “Yeah, it’s one of those songs that just... helps me focus. I hum it when I’m trying to concentrate, and sometimes I don’t even realize I’m doing it.”
As you shared your story, Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on you, a subtle fondness in his eyes. He seemed genuinely interested, as if he enjoyed hearing about these little aspects of your life. When you looked up from your work, catching his eye, he quickly averted his gaze, a slight blush creeping onto his cheeks.
You smiled, amused by the small moment of shyness. “Do you have a favorite artist?”
Hongjoong’s eyes lit up at the question. “David Bowie,” he replied without hesitation.
“Really? Great choice,” you said, your admiration clear in your tone. “How did you get into his music?”
Hongjoong leaned back slightly, reminiscing. “Back in my school days, a friend of mine always shared their earphones with me. They had a playlist full of David Bowie songs, and I just... got hooked. His music was so different from anything else I’d heard at the time.”
“Was it Seonghwa?” you asked, curious.
Hongjoong shook his head, a faint, nostalgic smile playing on his lips. “No, it was someone else. We’ve… lost touch over the years.”
Before you could ask more, your phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with a notification from an app you rarely used. Hongjoong glanced at the screen and recognized the image on your lockscreen. “You set that as your wallpaper?” he asked, a note of amusement in his voice as he saw the candid photo he had taken of you and the cat.
You laughed, nodding. “Yeah, I couldn’t resist. It’s just too cute not to use as my lockscreen.”
Hongjoong chuckled, clearly pleased. “How’s the little guy doing?”
“Oh, you know, the usual,” you replied with a grin. “Running away from me and munching on the flowers in our landlord’s garden. He’s a real troublemaker.”
Hongjoong laughed at this, the sound warm and genuine. “It’s hard to imagine him being so mischievous. He looked so sweet and innocent when I saw him.”
You raised an eyebrow playfully. “Maybe you should come by again sometime and see for yourself just how mischievous he can be.”
Hongjoong paused, momentarily caught off guard. Was that an invitation? The way you said it, with a casual laugh, made it seem like a harmless joke. But there was a part of him that wondered if there was more to it. He quickly dismissed the thought, reminding himself to stay focused on the task at hand.
As you continued working on the embroidery, a sudden sharp pain shot through your finger. A fairly large needle had slipped through your grasp, piercing your skin and drawing a bead of blood. You hissed in pain, “Ow!”
Hongjoong immediately turned his attention away from the dress, concern etched across his face as he took a few quick steps toward you. “Are you alright?” he asked, his voice soft yet filled with urgency. “Let me see your hand.”
You extended your injured hand toward him, wincing as you saw the small but painful wound. Hongjoong frowned, setting your hand gently on the table. “Hold on a moment,” he said, heading over to one of the drawers where he kept a first aid kit. He quickly retrieved the necessary supplies, including antiseptic wipes, a bandage, and some ointment.
Returning to your side, he crouched down to be at eye level with you. When you made a move to stand, thinking you should let him take the seat, he placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, guiding you to sit back down. “Stay put,” he instructed softly, his eyes meeting yours briefly before he focused on your injured finger.
Hongjoong took your hand with a surprising tenderness, carefully cleaning the wound. “You’ve got to be more careful next time, alright?” he said, his tone gentle yet firm.
You nodded, feeling a bit embarrassed. “Sorry, I’ll definitely keep that in mind.” He looked up at you and smiled, a small, reassuring curve of his lips that made your heart flutter unexpectedly. He then returned his focus to your finger, diligently applying ointment and wrapping it with a bandage.
As he worked, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on his face. The way his brow furrowed slightly in concentration, the soft lines of his features... It struck you how effortlessly handsome he was, even in such a simple moment. You found yourself thinking that models must be relieved he chose to become a fashion designer instead of competing with them in front of the camera.
Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly blurted out, “Your lashes look pretty.” The words slipped out before you could stop them, catching both you and Hongjoong by surprise.
He paused, then chuckled, clearly amused. “No, I mean, sorry,” you quickly tried to recover, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks. “I just have this habit of accidentally saying things out loud that are supposed to stay in my head...”
Hongjoong’s laugh, warm and genuine, cuts off your rambling. “It’s alright,” he said, still chuckling softly. “I’m flattered.”
As he continued tending to your wound, you noticed the way his eyes crinkled slightly at the corners when he smiled, and how his presence seemed to have a calming effect on you, even when you felt like you were spiraling. You realized that he had probably picked up on your tendency to speak in a single breath whenever you were nervous or flustered—a trait you found a bit embarrassing, but he seemed to find endearing. It’s a little strange.
“Tell you what,” Hongjoong began, a playful glint in his eyes as he looked up at you. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll share one of my unsaid thoughts too.”
You tilted your head, intrigued and a little wary. “I’d appreciate that,” you said, though you weren’t sure what to expect.
Hongjoong smiled, finishing up the bandage on your finger. “I think you look pretty.”
The words hit you like a gentle wave, unexpected yet disarming. You blinked, trying to process what he had just said. Did he… did he really just call you pretty? Your mind raced, heart pounding as you tried to find a response. Was he just being nice? Or was there something more to it? Maybe he was joking? Or not, given his sincere gaze? You felt your cheeks heating up again, and you could barely string together a coherent thought.
As you stared at him, wide-eyed and flustered, Hongjoong laughed softly at your reaction. “Sorry,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “Didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”
You knew from the look in his eyes and the slight smirk on his lips that he definitely meant to say that.
You both returned to your respective tasks, but focusing proved more difficult than before. Your heart raced, and every so often, your thoughts drifted back to Hongjoong’s unexpected compliment. It lingered in your mind, making it hard to concentrate on the delicate stitches you were working on. The realization of why your heart was fluttering was something you preferred to push aside for now, not wanting to dwell on the implications.
Meanwhile, outside the room, hushed whispers filled the corridor, inaudible to you and Hongjoong inside. Wooyoung, eyes wide and a hand covering his mouth, turned to Seonghwa beside him. “So...” he began, trying to process what they had just overheard.
Seonghwa met Wooyoung’s gaze with a similar look of surprise. “No way. Are they really...”
Wooyoung furrowed his brows in contemplation. “But if they were together, wouldn’t she have responded with something flirty? Like, you know, bantering back?”
Seonghwa shook his head, disagreeing. “She’s not that type of person. Not from what I’ve seen.”
Wooyoung pointed out, “Yeah, but when she told him his lashes looked pretty, she started apologizing like crazy. Would she do that if they were dating?”
Seonghwa considered this, then shook his head again. “Uh… no, definitely not. It’s not every day someone apologizes for complimenting their partner.”
“So... what’s the deal with them?” Wooyoung asked, genuinely puzzled.
Seonghwa shrugged, a thoughtful look on his face. “I think they’re just friends, but there’s definitely something more simmering beneath the surface. You can feel the chemistry, even from out here.”
Wooyoung nodded, his curiosity piqued. “The awkward tension between them definitely supports your theory. That’s how these things usually start, right?”
He paused, then added with a mischievous grin, “Do we even need to play matchmaker? It feels like they’re figuring it out on their own.”
Seonghwa laughed softly, a sound almost lost in the quiet hallway, but Wooyoung quickly hushed him. “Shh, we can’t let them know we’re here!”
Wooyoung then pondered aloud, “Now that I think about it, they would make a cute couple. Imagine being a model and dating the creative director of the brand you’re working for... It’s like something out of a romance movie.”
Seonghwa nodded in agreement, his voice barely a whisper. “It’s only a matter of time before he starts designing pieces specifically for her, just like he used to—”
Their conversation was abruptly cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps from inside the room. Panicking, Seonghwa and Wooyoung exchanged wide-eyed looks before quickly scurrying away, eager to avoid getting caught eavesdropping on their friend’s private moment.
Hongjoong spared a glance at both sides of the hall, a confused expression on his face. “I could’ve sworn I heard something from out here…”
A couple of weeks passed, and although the internet buzz surrounding you hadn’t entirely died down, you managed to keep yourself distracted from any concerns about potential media backlash. The credit for this went to Hongjoong, who had embraced your offer to assist with his designs. This partnership provided you both with a creative outlet and a much-needed escape from the spotlight.
You stood before the now-completed outfit you had both worked on, admiring the intricate details and the seamless blend of fabrics. “It’s stunning,” you remarked, your voice filled with awe. “I can’t believe how beautiful it turned out.”
Hongjoong smiled warmly at your words, pride evident in his eyes. “You should take some credit too,” he replied. “I genuinely think it wouldn’t have looked this good if I had done it all alone. Your input was invaluable.”
His compliment made you feel shy, a soft blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Well, if you ever need a hand in the future, I’d be more than happy to help,” you offered, your voice slightly timid.
“I’d like that,” Hongjoong murmured, almost as if speaking to himself. An idea seemed to cross his mind, and he looked at you with a glint of excitement. “How about I take you out to dinner tonight? You deserve a proper thank you for all your help. It’s not every day someone offers their time and skill like you did, and I’d like to show my appreciation in a way that’s more than just words.”
You started to shake your head, feeling that such a gesture was too much. “Oh, you really don’t have to. It’s nothing, really...”
But Hongjoong was persistent—as he always seemed to be. He smiled reassuringly, his tone firm yet gentle. “Nonsense. You’ve done more than enough to earn a nice evening out. So, let me treat you. I’ll pick you up from your apartment around eight. Just be ready.”
You couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his insistence, knowing you wouldn’t win this argument. “Alright, alright,” you conceded. “But I’m not expecting you to take me anywhere high-end.”
Hongjoong’s smile grew a little mischievous. “Maybe I will be,” he teased, refusing to give a clear answer. “Just be ready, and leave the rest to me.”
A part of you wondered if this dinner had been on his mind for a while, but you pushed that thought aside, nodding in agreement. Your phone buzzed with a message from Madame Dupont, urgently informing you that Pompidou was scratching at your apartment door. Your eyes widened, and you quickly told Hongjoong, “Oh no. I’ve got to go. See you tonight!” before rushing out.
Hongjoong watched you leave, a bemused expression on his face. He shrugged lightly and turned back to the outfit on the mannequin, admiring the final product one last time before heading back to his office. When he arrived, he found Wooyoung lounging comfortably in his chair, looking as if he belonged there.
“Sometimes I wonder if this office belongs to you or me,” Hongjoong mused, raising an eyebrow at his friend.
Wooyoung grinned cheekily. “It’s not my fault your office is so comfy. Anyway, are you free tonight? I need someone to go grocery shopping with me,” he whined dramatically. “My fridge is empty, and I feel like I might starve to death.”
Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. “Sorry, maybe next time. I’ve got plans tonight.”
Wooyoung’s curiosity piqued, his eyes narrowing with interest and a mischievous glint in them. “Plans? With who?”
Hongjoong hesitated for a moment, knowing where this conversation was headed. “With her,” he finally said, referring to you. “I’m taking her out to dinner to thank her for helping me with the designs.”
Wooyoung’s eyes widened, a playful glint appearing in them. He leaned forward, his expression full of intrigue and mischief, as if he had just discovered the juiciest piece of gossip. “Oh? Really? Just the two of you?” he teased, his voice dripping with implication.
Hongjoong sighed, deadpanning, “I know that look, Wooyoung.”
Wooyoung wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, a grin spreading across his face. “So, is this a date?” he asked, stretching the last word with a teasing tone.
Hongjoong rolled his eyes, trying to maintain his composure. “No, it’s not a date. It’s just a dinner to say thank you.”
“Oh, come on,” Wooyoung drawled, clearly not buying it. “You hesitated. You’ve got to admit there’s something there. The way you two have been spending time together...”
Hongjoong shook his head, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “You’re reading too much into it. It’s just dinner.”
“Just dinner?” Wooyoung echoed, disbelief lacing his tone. “You don’t take just anyone to a fancy restaurant, do you? I mean, I can’t remember the last time you took me to a nice place, and I’m practically your best friend.”
“It’s not about the restaurant,” Hongjoong insisted, though he couldn’t help but chuckle at Wooyoung’s theatrics. “It’s about appreciating her help.”
Wooyoung leaned back, crossing his arms with a knowing grin. “Sure, just dinner. But you don’t have to dress up for ‘just dinner,’ do you? Or pick her up personally? It’s almost like... I don’t know, like a date?”
Hongjoong could feel himself being cornered, yet he maintained his stance. “It’s not a date, Wooyoung. It’s a gesture of appreciation. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Wooyoung leaned in closer, his grin widening. “Oh, I see. So, if she shows up looking stunning and you two have a great time, it still won’t be a date?”
“You’re insufferable.”
“And you’re dodging the question,” Wooyoung shot back, laughing. “But seriously, it’s great that you’re taking her out. You two would look good together.”
Hongjoong shook his head again, though his smile remained. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance,” Wooyoung grinned. “But hey, I’m just saying what everyone’s thinking.”
Hongjoong rolled his eyes good-naturedly. “Well, let everyone think what they want. We’re just friends.”
“For now,” Wooyoung teased, his voice sing-song. “But you know, friends can become more. It’s like a... pre-date.”
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow. “Pre-date?”
Wooyoung nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah! Like a test run. You get to see how you feel about it, how she feels about it. It’s perfect! And if it goes well, who knows? Maybe it’ll turn into something more.”
“You’re really reaching here,” Hongjoong said, though he couldn’t help but laugh. “But I appreciate your enthusiasm.”
“Well, someone has to be enthusiastic about your love life,” Wooyoung quipped, grinning. “You’re too busy being all serious and professional.”
Hongjoong shook his head, still smiling. “I think I can manage my own love life, thank you very much.”
“Sure, sure,” Wooyoung replied, waving his hand dismissively. “But just remember, if it turns into a real date, I called it first.”
Hongjoong laughed, finally giving in to the lighthearted teasing. “Fine, you can have the credit if it does. But for now, it’s just dinner.”
“Just dinner,” Wooyoung repeated, still grinning. “We’ll see about that.”
Hours later, Wooyoung was proven right as he and Seonghwa found themselves in Hongjoong’s penthouse, assisting him in choosing the perfect outfit. The room was filled with various clothing options—jackets, shirts, pants—scattered across the furniture. Hongjoong stood before a full-length mirror, trying on a sleek dark blue suit that accentuated his figure.
“He kept insisting it’s not a date, but look at him now,” Wooyoung whispered to Seonghwa, chuckling as they observed Hongjoong’s meticulous attention to detail. He adjusted his tie, his brow furrowed in concentration.
“Maybe he just didn’t want to admit it’s a date because then he’d have to acknowledge it’s the first time he’s taken someone to a fancy restaurant,” Seonghwa whispered back, both of them stifling laughter. The idea that Hongjoong was fussing over an outfit over an occasion he swears isn’t a date was both endearing and amusing.
Hongjoong turned to them, an unamused expression on his face. “Are you two going to help me decide which of these looks more presentable, or are you going to keep gossiping about me even when I’m right in front of you?”
“The latter,” both Wooyoung and Seonghwa replied in unison, causing Hongjoong to roll his eyes with a sigh of resignation.
“Alright, alright, let’s get serious,” Wooyoung said, standing up from the bed. He approached Hongjoong, scrutinizing the suit. The tailored fit and elegant fabric gave off a sophisticated vibe, yet it felt a bit too formal for the occasion. “Maybe something a bit less formal?” Wooyoung suggested, tilting his head in contemplation.
As Seonghwa was about to offer his opinion, his phone buzzed with a message notification. Glancing down, he saw it was from you, containing photos of two different outfits with a message.
Which one looks better?
Seonghwa smiled, knowing you hadn’t mentioned the dinner to him but aware of it nonetheless. You probably thought he was unaware of the plan. He quickly assessed the outfits you sent, noticing that the second—a chic, knee-length dress with elegant detailing—would pair perfectly with one of the outfits Hongjoong had yet to try on. Without revealing his thoughts, he texted back, “Go for the second one,” before slipping his phone back into his pocket.
“Hongjoong, try on the dark black suit with the silk dress shirt of the same color,” Seonghwa suggested, nodding towards the outfit laid out on the couch. The combination was stylish yet not overly formal, balancing sophistication with a touch of modern flair.
Hongjoong raised an eyebrow but complied, heading to the bathroom to change. When he returned, the outfit fit him perfectly, the deep blue contrasting nicely with his complexion and highlighting his eyes. Seonghwa and Wooyoung exchanged satisfied looks.
Seonghwa walked towards him, undoing the first two buttons. Once he was done, he stepped back and nodded approvingly. “You should wear that one.”
Hongjoong looked puzzled. “Why this one?”
Seonghwa simply smiled, shaking his head. “Just trust me on this one,” he insisted, not revealing that the choice was to complement your outfit.
Meanwhile, you were at home, finishing up your preparations. After much deliberation, you had chosen the outfit Seonghwa recommended. The dress was elegant yet understated, perfect for an evening out without feeling too over the top. You sat on your bed, waiting for Hongjoong’s message, your heart fluttering with anticipation and nerves. As the clock struck 8 PM, your phone buzzed with a message from him.
I’m outside.
You quickly grabbed your purse, slipped your phone inside, and made sure to lock your apartment door before heading down to the ground floor.
Stepping outside, you were greeted by the sight of Hongjoong leaning casually against his car, his eyes focused on his phone. The soft glow of the streetlights highlighted his sharp features—the strong jawline, the soft curve of his lips, and the way his hair was neatly styled. The suit he wore brought out his eyes, making them seem even more captivating in the dim light.
“Hongjoong?” you called out, your voice slightly hesitant. He looked up immediately, his eyes locking onto yours. For a moment, his expression softened, a warm smile spreading across his face as he took in your appearance.
As you walked over to him, you could see the admiration in his eyes. He seemed momentarily taken aback by how beautiful you looked, the dress flattering your figure in all the right ways. The elegant fabric and subtle detailing accentuated your features without being too flashy. “Hi,” you greeted him, offering a shy smile.
Instead of a typical greeting, Hongjoong’s gaze lingered on you, and he finally spoke, his voice soft but sincere. “You look beautiful.”
You laughed lightly, feeling a flush of warmth at his compliment. “Isn’t that supposed to be an unsaid thought?”
Hongjoong chuckled, shaking his head. “Not tonight, it isn’t.”
He moved to the passenger side of the car, opening the door with a gentlemanly gesture. “After you,” he said, his tone playful yet sincere. You thanked him, slipping into the car, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. He closed the door gently, then walked around to the driver’s side and got in.
As the car pulled away, you found yourself gazing out the window, mesmerized by the city’s beauty. The streets were alive with lights, the architecture blending old-world charm with modern elegance. The cityscape seemed to sparkle, creating a romantic and enchanting atmosphere. “Paris is so beautiful...” you whispered, almost in awe of the city’s charm.
Hongjoong glanced over at you, smiling. “It is, isn’t it?” he agreed, his tone reflecting the warmth of your admiration.
The drive continued in comfortable silence, the city's lights creating a mesmerizing backdrop. Eventually, the car came to a stop in front of a high-end restaurant. The building exudes elegance, with large windows showcasing the warm, inviting interior. You looked over at Hongjoong, a hint of hesitation in your eyes. You weren’t used to such fancy places, and the grandeur of the setting made you feel slightly nervous.
Hongjoong noticed your unease and offered you a reassuring smile, his eyes filled with warmth. “It’s going to be great,” he said softly, his voice calming your nerves. He stepped out of the car and walked around to open your door, offering his hand to help you out.
Inside, the restaurant was elegantly decorated, with soft lighting and tasteful decor creating an intimate atmosphere. A waiter greeted you both with a warm smile. “Good evening, sir, madam. Welcome to Le Ciel de Paris,” he said, his voice professional. “May I say, you look lovely this evening, miss,” he added, glancing at you appreciatively.
Hongjoong nodded in acknowledgment, and the waiter led you to the highest floor—a stunning rooftop with a breathtaking view of the city. The night sky was a canvas of deep blues and purples, dotted with stars. A reserved table awaited you, set with fine china and candles, adding to the comforting ambiance.
As you took your seat, you couldn’t help but express your gratitude and slight apprehension. “This is all so... beautiful,” you whispered, your hands fidgeting slightly. “But honestly, Hongjoong, I really don’t think I deserve—”
Your words were cut off as Hongjoong placed his hand gently over yours, his touch warm and reassuring. “Hey,” he said softly, his gaze steady and sincere. “You deserve this. You’ve been amazing, and I wanted to show my appreciation.”
The sincerity in his voice eased your worries, and you nodded, smiling gratefully. Just then, the waiter approached your table, ready to take your orders. “Good evening. May I start you off with something to drink?” he asked, his pen poised over his notepad.
Hongjoong glanced at you, then back at the waiter. “We’ll have a bottle of your finest white wine, please,” he said, and the waiter nodded, jotting it down.
“And for the main course?” the waiter inquired, looking between the two of you.
Hongjoong smiled at you. “What would you like? Do you have any preferences?”
You looked at the menu, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the options, none of which were familiar to you. “I haven’t tried any of these before... I think I’ll just have whatever you recommend,” you said, smiling sheepishly.
Hongjoong nodded understandingly, then turned to the waiter. “She’ll have the grilled sea bass with lemon herb sauce, and I’ll have the filet mignon with truffle butter,” he ordered confidently, choosing dishes he thought you would enjoy.
The waiter nodded, noting down your orders. “Excellent choice, sir. Your meals will be out shortly,” he said, giving a polite bow before leaving.
As the evening continued, you and Hongjoong indulged in light conversation, gradually easing into more personal topics. You took a sip of your wine and asked, “So, how are you feeling now that Fashion Week is drawing closer? I know there’s still a few months left, but it’s not as far as it used to be.”
Hongjoong leaned back slightly, exhaling softly. “Honestly? I do feel a little pressured and stressed out. The beginning of the process was quite overdue, which has added some tension,” he confessed, his eyes reflecting the weight of his responsibilities.
Hearing this, you immediately felt a pang of guilt. You were acutely aware that the delay was partly due to the time it took for you to return his sketchbook. “I’m so sorry about the sketchbook... I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble or delay,” you began, your voice tinged with regret.
But Hongjoong quickly shook his head, raising a hand to stop you. “No, don’t apologize. It’s not your fault at all. I completely understand why it took a while. You had your own reasons, and I respect that,” he assured you, his tone gentle and understanding. “Besides, I’m grateful it was you who found it. The sketches are as personal as they are professional, and I couldn’t have asked for a better person to return them.”
He then shifted the conversation, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “As for my goals for Fashion Week, I’m really aiming to showcase something unique. I want my collection to tell a story—something that resonates on a deeper level with people. I’ve been working on integrating sustainable practices into the designs, focusing on eco-friendly materials and innovative techniques. It’s a challenge, but it’s important to me. I want to highlight not just fashion but also a message about sustainability and conscious consumerism.”
You listened intently, impressed by his dedication and vision. “That sounds amazing. It’s great that you’re thinking about the bigger picture, not just the fashion itself but the impact it has on the world. It’s a refreshing approach in an industry that can sometimes seem so detached from these issues,” you responded, your admiration evident in your voice. “It’s inspiring to see someone so committed to their values and willing to take on the challenge of integrating them into their work.”
Hongjoong smiled, appreciating your support and understanding. “Thank you. It’s definitely a journey, but it’s one I’m passionate about. There’s a lot of work to be done, but I believe it’s worth it.”
As the conversation naturally flowed, Hongjoong turned the focus back to you, his expression curious and concerned. “How have you been handling the sudden exposure to the media? It must be a big change for you.”
You sighed, glancing around the restaurant. You noticed a fair portion of the other diners occasionally glancing in your direction. It was hard to tell if they were looking at Hongjoong, you, or perhaps both of you. The attention felt overwhelming, and you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched.
Hongjoong noticed your unease and seemed to read your thoughts. “They’re definitely looking at you,” he said, a wry smile on his lips. “People are still curious about you. The media has been persistent, trying to learn more about your background.”
You sheepishly rubbed the back of your neck, feeling the weight of his words. “It’s quite a lot to take in,” you admitted, your voice carrying a hint of anxiety. “Honestly, it’s a bit scary. What often happens with people who suddenly go viral is that the media and the public can switch up on them. One moment you’re the person everyone wants to know about, and the next, they’re tearing you down for no reason. I can’t help but worry about that, about what people might say or think. There’s probably already hate comments about me out there, and it’s just... unsettling.”
Hongjoong leaned forward, his gaze sincere and reassuring. “I understand your concerns, but you shouldn’t waste your time or energy worrying about those people,” he said firmly. “There will always be people who are negative or try to bring others down, especially online where it’s so easy to hide behind anonymity. But what matters is how you handle it. You’ve been genuine and true to yourself, and that’s all anyone can ask for. The people who care about you and respect you will see that, and they’re the ones whose opinions truly matter. The rest is just noise.”
His words were comforting, a reminder to focus on the positive and not let negativity overshadow your experiences. Just as you were about to respond, the waiter arrived with your meals, expertly setting down the plates before you. The aroma of the food was enticing, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the delicious meal in front of you.
“Thank you,” you said to the waiter, then turned to Hongjoong with a smile. “And thank you, Hongjoong, for this lovely dinner. It’s really thoughtful of you.”
He smiled warmly. “It’s my pleasure. I’m glad we could spend this evening together.”
You took your first bite of the grilled sea bass, savoring the delicate flavors. The lemon herb sauce complemented the fish perfectly, creating a harmonious and delightful taste. You looked up at Hongjoong, your eyes shining with delight. “This is really good! You definitely recommended the right dish.”
“Well, I’m glad you like it,” Hongjoong said, his smile broadening. “I wanted you to have a good experience here.”
Curious, you asked, “Do you come here often?”
He shook his head. “Not really. I usually only come here when Wooyoung or Seonghwa or both invite me to dinner. I rarely go to extravagant places alone. I prefer staying home or in the office, losing myself in work. It’s just more comfortable for me that way, I guess.”
The evening seemed to slip away like sand through your fingers. Before you knew it, you were seated comfortably in Hongjoong’s car, the soft hum of the engine a soothing backdrop as he began the drive to your apartment. The day’s events, from the delightful meal to the heartfelt conversations, had left you pleasantly exhausted. As you gazed out the window, watching the city lights blur past, you felt your eyelids grow heavy. Hongjoong glanced over, noticing your drowsiness.
“You can sleep if you want to,” he offered kindly, his voice a soft murmur. “I’ll wake you up when we reach your apartment.”
You hesitated for a moment, unsure if it would be alright to take up his offer. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother.”
He smiled gently, reassuring you with a calm, “Why wouldn’t it be? It’s no trouble at all.”
Relieved, you returned his smile and shifted in your seat, leaning your head against the cool glass of the window. As your eyes fluttered closed, the rhythmic motion of the car lulled you into a peaceful slumber. Hongjoong kept his focus on the road, but every now and then, he glanced over at you, noting your serene expression. As the car came to a halt at a red light, he took the opportunity to gently remove his blazer and drape it over you, ensuring you were warm and comfortable. For a brief moment, he found himself mesmerized by your features, a sense of quiet admiration washing over him. A stray strand of your hair fell across your face, and without thinking, he reached out with the intention to brush it away. Just as his fingers were about to touch your skin, the light turned green, pulling him back to reality. He quickly withdrew his hand, clearing his throat and refocusing on the road.
As Hongjoong navigated the familiar streets leading to your apartment, he gently tapped your shoulder three times, rousing you from your nap. You blinked, momentarily disoriented, until your eyes met his. The warmth in his gaze instantly put you at ease. “We’re almost there,” he informed you, a soft smile on his lips.
You nodded, slowly coming back to full awareness. It was then that you noticed his blazer draped over you, the scent of his perfume subtly filling your senses. It carried a complex blend of fruity, floral, and musky notes. Grateful for the warmth, you pulled the fabric closer, a small, appreciative smile gracing your lips.
Upon reaching your apartment building, Hongjoong exited the car first, walking around to your side to open the door. He extended his hand, helping you out of the car. “Thank you,” you murmured, taking his hand and stepping out gracefully. You took a moment to straighten the slight wrinkles in your dress, feeling a bit more composed.
Just as you were about to express your gratitude, a familiar feline figure appeared seemingly out of nowhere. The cat leaped up, not into your arms as expected, but into Hongjoong’s, causing him to let out a small gasp of surprise. You couldn’t help but laugh softly at the sight of him awkwardly adjusting his grip to properly hold the cat.
“Looks like Pompidou missed you,” you remarked with a fond smile, tilting your head as you watched the scene unfold.
Hongjoong chuckled, a mix of amusement and affection in his eyes as he gently petted the cat. “I can definitely picture you being mischievous now,” he cooed, lightly tapping the tip of Pompidou’s nose with his index finger.
An idea sparked in your mind. You quickly pulled out your phone, taking a few steps back to capture the candid moment. Hongjoong, caught in the act of playing with the cat, looked both charming and endearing. You snapped a photo, giggling softly to yourself before putting your phone away.
“You have a kind soul,” you whispered, almost to yourself, as you observed Hongjoong. “That must be why Pompidou likes you.”
As if on cue, the cat suddenly jumped down from Hongjoong’s arms and trotted towards the entrance of your apartment building. Hongjoong watched the feline’s departure with a soft smile, then turned back to you.
“It looks like it’s time for you to go inside,” he said gently, the warmth in his voice unmistakable.
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you prepared to bid him farewell. “Thank you for tonight, Hongjoong. It was really wonderful. And thank you for letting me help out with your designs. It was a great way to distract myself from everything that’s been going on,” you said sincerely, your voice filled with genuine appreciation. “I’ll definitely make sure to return the favor.”
He shook his head, a light chuckle escaping his lips. “You don’t need to. Your presence is enough for me,” he said, then quickly added, waving his hands as if to clarify, “I mean, you’re a really great friend. It’s nice to have you around.”
The term “great friend” resonated with you, touching a part of your heart that hadn’t felt such warmth in a long time. You smiled softly, a heartfelt look in your eyes. “I’m glad you think of me that way,” you replied, your voice soft and sincere.
With that, you exchanged goodbyes, Hongjoong standing by until you safely entered your building. As the door closed behind you, you watched from the lobby as he walked back to his car, giving you one last wave before driving away. You stood there for a moment, reflecting on the evening’s events and the unexpected bond you were forming with Hongjoong. The night had been more than just a distraction; it was a step towards something new and meaningful, leaving you with a warm, lingering feeling as you made your way up to your apartment.
Once you were back home, you quickly settled on the floor with your journal in hand, leaning your back against the bed. The quiet of your apartment contrasted with the eventful day you had, and you felt a comforting sense of calm wash over you. As you opened your journal, the blank pages seemed to invite you to pour out your thoughts and feelings. You began writing, your pen flowing across the paper.
The past few days have been really eventful, thanks to Hongjoong. At first, practicing the ins and outs of sewing was proving itself to be quite the struggle, but I was lucky enough for him to lend me a helping hand with zero judgment. Honestly, I still feel a little embarrassed over offering to help while being well aware I barely knew how a sewing machine operates... But anyway, when I got used to it, I wasted no time in helping him out with one of his designs for his upcoming collection for autumn. We finished it today, and I think it’s safe to say that it turned out great.
He insisted on treating me to a celebratory dinner tonight, and while I had initial hesitance since fancy places weren’t exactly my style, I think his presence helped me get more comfortable with it over the minutes we spent there. He said I was a great friend, too, and I have to say that it was really heartwarming. I can’t even count how many years have passed since the last time someone called me that...
But overall, I had a lot of fun today, and hopefully, I’ll continue to.
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🪞 — lividstar.
54 notes · View notes
askinkiskarma · 2 years ago
Text
Cruel Summer | Chapter III: Clean
Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader
Word Count: 6.6k words
Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, friends-with-benefits, mutual pining, some Spider x Reader, 18+ minors DNI
Synopsis: You and Neteyam learn to navigate life without the other.
A/N: Hey besties, I’m sorry that this took so long, but I’ve honestly been struggling a little on this website, and it’s taken quite the toll on me. It’s been a weird week(?), in which although I’ve never received more followers and more notes etc., I’ve also never felt more alone, and more disconnected from the platform and the people in it. I think you will be able to tell in the chapter as well. When I was posting the Cardigan series, although I had a lot less followers, I felt like people genuinely enjoyed/connected to the story, and I just don’t really feel that way anymore, and I think I’m still learning to deal with it. Anyway, personal issues aside, I really hope you enjoy this chapter! I think it’s only going to be another couple chapters in this story. I might however make an alternate ending to it? I’ve also had some inspiration for Midnight Rain Part II, and thank you so much for being patient with me with that story, it took me a while to understand what I wanted to do with it, as I wasn’t planning on it having a second part initially. Ramble over, I promise.
enjoy besties ily xoxo
: ̗̀➛ listen to Clean here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)
The drought was the very worst
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst
It was months and months of back and forth
You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore
“Come on… open the door, please?” 
Lo’ak’s voice was pleading and saddened, and so were Kiri’s soft sobs, but you pretended you couldn’t hear them, not their tone nor their words, because hearing them meant acknowledging it and you couldn’t. You couldn’t acknowledge them, or the previous few that tried. Not Jake, not Norm, not Neteyam. Definitely not Neteyam. You couldn’t open that door, because if you did, you would crumble at their feet, you would beg and scream and thrash, and you didn’t want to do any of those things. The anger you felt for all of them, each and every one of them was strong enough to drown any other emotion, any emotion other than overwhelming hurt and anguish that was threatening to tear you apart with each passing moment that these people were standing outside your door, every moment that passed in which they were still leaving, still leaving you behind, leaving you alone.
You were all alone. No matter how many years you have spent by their side, no matter how much Jake promised you were as much their kid as the rest of them, no matter how many hours and days and months and years you have spent stuck to Neteyam like glue, it was all in vain. It was all fake. You would never be a part of their family. All these years, you were just a family pet, that they would pass on to the next owners when the situation called for it. This thought was fuel enough for a new set of wailed cries that you tried to muffle with a hand over your mouth. It took a while, but eventually, they left you to your own devices, left you to deal with the mess they made, a mess you’ll never forgive them for. Never forgive him for.
At the dawn of a new day, the dreaded day, a new knock, more timid and timed bellowed, and the sound rang painfully in your ears. 
“Kid… they’re leaving. They really want to say goodbye to you… they all do. Tuk is crying, she’s saying you’re mad at her. Just… just please come out, honey, ok?” 
Tuk… 
“Tuk can come in. But that’s it.” You hoped Norm couldn’t make out how hoarse and broken your voice sounded, and hope he couldn’t tell that you cried so much in one night that you blacked out from dehydration, only to be woken up by his announcement.Sure enough, a few minutes later, Tuk came in through the door you just unlocked. You tried to wash your face and look a little more presentable, but as you took one swift look in the mirror, you knew it was pointless. You just prayed Tuk wouldn’t notice. 
“Come in, baby.” She ran into your arms and fastened her arms around your neck, and you were always shocked at how she was just as tall as you, and somehow even stronger. 
“Sister! I thought I wouldn’t get the chance to say goodbye.” She was crying, you realised, as her hot tears spilled down your back, getting absorbed in your cotton top. 
“Of course you would, baby. I am so sorry. I’m so sad that you’re going, so I needed some time, but I would never let you leave without telling you how much I’ll miss you, and that I love you so, so much. You’re the best little sister anyone could have ever asked for.” Her high-pitched cries tugged at your heart painfully, but you knew you had to be strong for her. She didn’t deserve any of it, any pain or hurt, anything other than pure bliss. 
“I love you, too! I want you to come with. Why can’t you come with?” 
You tried to ignore the way your entire body felt like it was being put through the meat grinder, and just focused on her, on her tears and her soft little hair that you caressed gently, and the way her head fit so well in the crook of your neck. 
“Because I’m human, baby. And where you are going, they wouldn’t like me. I wouldn’t fit in. But baby, look at me.” You brushed the unruly braids out of her face and her tears from her cheeks, giving her the biggest smile you could muster. “This isn’t goodbye forever. I will see you again soon, and I can’t wait to hear all the adventures you’ve had and all the memories you’ve made. I’m so proud of you, you know? One day, you’ll outgrow me, and I’ll get to watch you be the most amazing warrior ever, just like your mummy is. And I’ll still be your biggest cheerleader, and I’ll watch from the bleachers, like in the movies, do you remember?” 
She nods half-heartedly, but her face lights up a little, and you think the worst is over. 
“Come, I’m sure everyone’s waiting. I will miss you, sweet girl. Be safe.” 
You kissed her forehead and both of her cheeks, and with one last hug, she left. 
They left. He left.
Hung my head as I lost the war
And the sky turned black like a perfect storm
•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•
“How does it feel?” Neteyam watched as you eyed his queue, that was leisurely hung over his shoulder, a glimmer of curiosity in your eyes. He’s noticed you doing that for a while now, and when you were kids, he’s let you touch it once or twice, but it’s been years now, and the situation was no longer applicable. You were no longer just a friend, not quite a mate, somewhere in between, something undefined and awkward, something you didn’t talk about unless absolutely necessary. 
“How does what feel, Vol?” 
“The Tsaheylu. Connecting to another animal, another Na’vi. How does it feel?” 
“I thought you knew about from all your little books.” You rolled your eyes and huffed annoyedly. 
“Yes, I do. I know the theory. I know you use it to connect to other beings, to Eywa, I know you can feel each other’s emotions. I know all of that. But how does it feel?” 
Neteyam thought about it for a long time. How was he supposed to describe something that was so natural and so quintessential to his life, to his existence, to someone who would never be able to experience for themselves? 
“Do you know how sometimes we look at each other and we kind of just have a whole conversation just with one look? Because we know each other so well now, that words are not really necessary? Vol… I know everything you think, and everything you feel. I know you so deep in my soul, it’s hard to separate my own feelings from yours, my own thoughts. You’ve become so  essential to my being, it’s like you are a constant part of me.” 
He suddenly felt very vulnerable and exposed at the confession, and felt like he overshared something that may have been better left unsaid. 
“I mean, I-“ 
“I know what you mean.” 
You sighed and got closer to him, and you moved until you were in his lap, in your own little bubble of safety and comfort. It was your favourite place in the world, you once told him. 
“I know what you mean too well. Sometimes, it’s hard to tell where I stop and you start.” 
He felt relieved at your words, relieved to know you understood and felt the same. That you got him. 
“Well, there you go. That’s kinda how it feels like.” 
“But, how does it feel like? When you mate with someone, does it amplify the sensations, does it… make it better? Make it so you never want someone else ever again?” 
The saddened, desolate tone of your voice told Neteyam that you were moving into uncharted territory, that this conversation was taking a turn neither of you were ready or skilled enough to navigate safely. He didn’t know what was the right way to answer something like that. Because the truth was that yes, from his understanding, it did make it better. It made it more intense, more special, it made it everything. There was a reason Na’vi had sex with however many people they wanted, but only bonded with one. It was the bond that separated a sexual experience from a mating experience, from something you would only ever wanted to experience with just one special someone. But he couldn’t say that to you. Not when you didn’t have this ability and never will, not when he knew how much you wanted it, not when there was nothing neither of you could do about it. So he considered a different approach. 
“Do you want to touch it?” 
Neteyam’s never allowed anyone near his queue before. No Na’vi would. The kuru was for themselves, for their mates and for their mothers as infants. It was the most sensitive and intimate part of them, and so naturally, Neteyam was a little uneasy and nervous. But he trusted you. He loved you. He was in love with you, and would have given anything to mate with you, but maybe this will be enough. 
He laughed softly at the way your eyes widened in shock. You understood the implication of what he was asking you, and that scared you both. But still, almost bashfully, you nodded, a soft warm loving smile taking over your features. You softly reached for it and brushed your hands over the length that was draped over his shoulder, a touch so soft, so minuscule that it was barely there, but Neteyam’s whole body shuddered, goosebumps instantly appearing throughout his whole body. You quickly removed your hand, and looked guilty as you spoke. 
“I’m sorry. This was probably a bad ide-“ 
“Hey, stop.” 
Neteyam couldn’t help his fingers as they reached out and stroked you face and jaw, making their way down your throat and collarbone. He smirked a little when you shivered under his touch. 
“See? Did that feel bad?” 
You smiled and shook your head gently. 
“It doesn’t feel bad. It’s just… new. But I want you to do it, Vol. I want you to do it.” 
A little unnerved, you resumed your inspection of his braid, grabbing at as gently as you could and bringing it up to eye level. 
“The hair here is softer.” You mused, almost to yourself. “I love that.” 
Slowly, you moved downstream, until eventually, you reached its end, and gasped slowly as the pink tendrils came into view, moving a lot more erratically and enthusiastically than they normally did. 
“Why are they doing that?” 
“Because of you, Vol.” he said through panted breaths. He was experiencing a range and intensity of emotions he never had before, never in his life. The things you were doing to him, that only you ever did to him, the feelings you evoked in his mind and body, were now intensified a thousand fold, and he was crumbling under their weight. 
“It’s doing that because my body feels you. Feels what you’re doing, knows who you are.” He hesitated before speaking, but he needed to get it out, he had to get it out. “It’s doing that because it knows I’m close to someone it… it wants to mate with.” 
You removed your hand from him almost like his queue burned you. Your face contorted in a frown and you were struggling to push tears back in your eyes. 
“Oh. Well, unfortunately, that’s never going to be able to happen, so…” You removed yourself from his lap and started turning your back to him, but he caught you and held you in place. You were almost face to face like this, which Neteyam was happy about. He had to look into your eyes to get his point across. He had to look into your eyes to get the courage needed to say this. 
“Ma Vol, it doesn’t matter.” You scoffed, and the small movement of your head spilled unwanted tears, that you quickly brushed away with your thumb.
“Hey, look at me. Please?” You did so hesitantly. His thumb was caressing your face, your jaw and lips. 
“It doesn’t matter. Do you not understand, Vol?” He moved his hand to rest on your chest, above your heart. “I can feel you. I can feel everything you feel. I can feel feel it like I’m going through it. When you’re sad, I’m sad. When you’re happy or shy, or anxious or scared, when you are annoyed or excited, I feel it all. You see? It doesn’t matter.”
“Don’t you get it? It never mattered. Not with you.” A small moan escaped you at his words, that he knew you needed to hear, and he needed to speak out loud. He didn’t know what would happen, didn’t know if he should have, but as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, harsh and needy, he couldn’t find it in him to care. 
•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•
There was nothing left to do
When the butterflies turned to dust that covered my whole room
So I punched a hole in the roof
Let the flood carry away all my pictures of you
Neteyam woke up with a mean headache, and he felt almost hungover. He always did these days, pain seeping through every dimension of his life, of his body and mind. The dreams were unrelenting, and they stung each night, so many memories, so many moments he wished he could go back to, that he wished he could relive… that he wish he could forget. It’s been weeks, yet your final interaction still haunts him. How could it not? He didn’t even get the chance to say goodbye. Nineteen years of friendship, of being each other’s safety net were swiftly thrown out the window in a split second, and Neteyam found it difficult to cope with the gap you and your presence left behind. There was so much that had to change for him, it felt like every day was a new life he never asked for and didn’t want, but was forced to live through regardless. A strange purgatory, one with warm breezes and crystal clear water and golden sandy beaches. Probably not the worst of purgatories, if Neteyam was honest with himself, but even Heaven could easily feel like Hell under the right circumstances. 
“Ok kids, remember, no getting into trouble. Go meet Tsireya and Aonung and train. Pull your weight. Neteyam, once you’ve mastered the ilu, Tonowari said you can start learning how to tame the tsurak. Now let’s go show the Metkayina how the Omatikaya do things, alright, kids?” 
“Yes, sir.” 
Neteyam walked alongside his siblings to the meeting place they’ve been training every day for the past couple of weeks. As it turns out, the Metkayina can hold their breath underwater for up to 15 minutes, their bodies physically adapted to allow them to, and well… the Sullys couldn’t. So there was a lot of breathing training, on top of swimming lessons and ilu riding practice. Neteyam was frustrated to have to start anew, frustrated that he couldn’t fly every day, the way he has grown accustomed to for the past 6 years since completing his Iknimaya, frustrated that he went from being the future Olo’eyktan to a novice, to a nobody.
Despite everything, he tried. That was in his nature. He would always try, he would always give his best, and he would always make the best out of a bad situation, because that’s who he was. That’s who he had to be. The move left him broken and unmoored, with no purpose and no home, but Neteyam would still keep going, because his family depended on him, and that knowledge alone was enough to keep him afloat just a little while longer.
Neteyam couldn’t help be jealous of his little brother, who not only adapted, but he did so almost instantly. The new place felt immediately like home to the boy who has always felt alone and misunderstood, like a pariah and an outcast. It was the same here, yet somehow, the presence of the Olo’eyktan’s only daughter seem to lessen the blow and make him want to try harder than he ever has before. His breathing technique was better than all of theirs, except Kiri's, most likely due to the extra lessons he was getting every day from Tsireya. Neteyam was proud of Lo’ak, he really was. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of annoyance that once more, whilst Neteyam was plagued with insurmountable challenges and continuous sacrifices, Lo’ak once more got everything he’s wanted handed to him on a silver platter. He just wishes sometimes life could work out in his favour the same way, at least once. At least in one aspect. The one aspect. 
The days were long and tedious, but every day something happened that he wished he could tell you about, that he wished you could experience. You loved water. He could just about imagine your face, your thoughts, your every expression, every sound you would make, every undulation of your voice. He could imagine taking you to the mangrove forest and finding a spot just for the two of you, your screams of pleasure drowned by the greenery and the sounds of exotic birds. He could see you taking your mask off despite his complaints, and kissing him, deeply and passionately, smiling as his tongue explored your body, as your hands explored his. 
He missed you. He wondered if you missed him too, or if the hatred that probably fuelled your days prevented you from doing so. 
•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•
“I’ve missed you.” 
You were a mess of tangled limbs on your bed, Neteyam’s warmth enveloping you like a cozy blanket, much more so than the one currently covering you both. His voice was thick and laced with languor, and so sweet, it was making your eyes flutter closed in bliss and soothing relaxation. 
“I’ve missed you, too, Teyam.” 
Neteyam’s large hand cupped your face, lifting it gently so he could meet your eyes, smiling softly as he did. 
“Ma Vol… are you happy?” 
Neteyam’s loaded question took you by surprise, and woke you from your near-sleep. You thought about it for a while, pondering the weight of the word. Happy. Were you happy? Happiness was such a strange, abstract concept to you. On one hand, yes, you were. So, so happy. In this moment, you were happy. In every moment you were in his arms, every moment he laughed at your silly jokes, or watched you intently as you spoke about your day, in every moment he was just who he was, your best friend, your confidant, your boyfriend and mate for all intents and purposes, except the one that mattered most. And there was the flip side, the ugly monster, that was ever-present and following you everywhere you went, marring even the most serene, the most beautiful, the happiest memories. The truth. The truth was the antithesis of happiness. Because the truth told you that one day, Neteyam would up and leave you, and when he did, your life as you have come to know it for 19 years will change. Because let’s be honest. Not only will you lose him as a lover, as an unofficial boyfriend, but you knew you would lose him as a friend. You knew that whoever it was that would be his mate would not approve of your friendship, and that, in time, even that will dwindle and fall apart, leaving you completely on your own. 
Still, all of that was far away in the future in your mind, and telling Neteyam any of it meant admitting feelings you shouldn’t be harbouring to begin with, so you settled for a white lie. A harmless lie. A necessary lie.
“I am, Teyam.” 
“Are you?” 
“Right now, I am.” 
“Good. Because so I am. I know it’s strange. I hate this place, you know. So many horrible things have come out of it, so much hurt and pain and death, but somehow, being here with you… this room, this bed. Somehow it feels like home. And I think it’s you. I think you’re my home.” 
You tightened your grip on his body and didn’t say anything as you allowed yourself the respite of his words, and the hope of tomorrow.
•☽────✧˖°˖☆˖°˖✧────☾•
You woke up in pain, and crying, as you did most nights these days. You were slowly losing hope the nightmares would ever stop, that his face would ever be erased from your mind, both conscious and unconscious, tugging at every strand of sanity you had left, any shred of self-preservation still keeping you going. It’s been long enough that you thought the pain should have subsided by now. Long enough that maybe, just maybe, the world wouldn’t be as dark and gloomy anymore, that maybe while not the whole sun, but at least one ray of it could penetrate the ice that wrapped around your heart, slowly thawing it. But your world was still dark and filled with dim shadows and water that was slowly filling every chamber of your heart and lungs, slowly drowning you. 
You got out of bed with a sigh and turned on the shower, water so hot it felt almost scalding on your skin, the only way you showered these days, the only way it was bearable, the only way. Because this way, in your mind, little by little, every inch of skin on your body he ever touched was slowly melting away, and in time, all the cells that died would be replaced with new ones, and in time, your body will be rid of his imprint and then, maybe then, you could finally be free. 
You made your way to the dining area, determined to be a productive member of society at least to some extent today, determined to not spend yet another day in bed, replaying the same 10 songs that only made you sadder, or the same show that you have seen so many times you have memorised by heart. Most of the humans and Avatars were there, enjoying some breakfast prior to a long day ahead. There was yet another attacked planned today. Tarsem was a good leader. Strong and capable, unrelenting in his quest to impede as many of the human developments as he possibly could. He was not deterred by the Recoms and he had faith in Eywa’s ability and desire to protect her world and her people, and so far, he has been right. Even with Avatars, they have not been able to find the new Omatikaya base of operations, and you have even found some of them dead in the woods, mostly likely as a result of an attack by all the ikran that lived in the mountains. 
“Morning, honey.” Max sent a wide smile your way, that you tried your best to reciprocate. 
“Coffee?” The words were music to your ears. You’ve only tasted coffee a couple of times when you were young, before the provisions depleted, but now, with all the trains and helicopters that the Na’vi and Avatars managed to take down, the stronghold had plenty to spare once more.
“Yes, please.” Norm poured you the magic liquid and took a sip of it himself, sighing happily to himself. 
“You know, it really does suck that the humans came back, but my God, this is definitely a silver lining.” 
You chuckled a little. 
“I doubt the Na’vi will see it that way, Norm.” 
“No, but outside of coffee and burgers and all the other human things we’ve missed, Tarsem is incredible, kid! We have so many lab supplies, reagents and equipment that we are still trying to unpack, categorise and put together. It’s incredible all the stuff they brought with them. It’s almost like all the stuff we used to do on Earth, they’re trying to bring here. Who knows what we could do with all of it?” 
“After breakfast, I can help you with it. This way we can go through it faster and figure it out?” 
“That’d be great, kid.” 
“Where’s Spider?” 
“He’s training with the Olo’eyktan and his men. You know? Tarsem loves him!” Norm laughs heartily. You raise an eyebrow. 
“Seriously?” 
“Yeah, kid! Turns out 19 years of training with Neteyam and Lo’ak under Jake’s supervision really did make him quite the fighter. Now, he’s obviously never going to be able to take the Iknimaya or be one of the people, but Tarsem sees a true warrior in him. Can you believe that?” 
You couldn’t really, but you also couldn’t help the swell of pride that overtook you. It was nice to know there was some hope for the humans in the clan after all.
“Why don’t you go with him? You’ve also trained with the kids growing up. I know you split your time between that and being in the lab, but kid, it’s worth a shot. There’s a whole life out there waiting for you, and this way, you get to feel more integrated with the village. This is what you’ve wanted all your life, isn’t it?” 
Yeah, you thought bitterly. A different life. 
Despite everything, you took Norm’s advice, and spent your time training with Spider and the Na’vi warriors, deepening your understanding of guns, practicing bow and arrows and even learning hand to hand combat from the human Avatars. In the spare time, you helped in the lab, doing experiments and organising all the overwhelming amounts of new things you were receiving from all the raids. It was a good distraction, and it kept you busy sun up til sun down, each day, every day.
You and Spider got closer by the day, even closer somehow than you used to be. You cleaned his wounds and he helped clean yours, although he didn’t know much about how to do it, but in time, you taught him and you enjoyed the feeling of another person helping you, another person healing you. You almost felt the edges of the gaping hole in your chest start to close when you spent your days together.
But no amount of distraction could really keep the nightmares away when they wanted to come and haunt you in the night.
Ten months sober, I must admit
Just because you're clean, don't mean you don't miss it
You woke up panting, crying and tugging at your night gown in an effort to make the pain stop, the gaping hole in your heart that hurt still as badly as that first day, that never seemed to get any smaller, that refused to heal. You barely registered the door to your bedroom sliding open with a soft whoosh, but jumped when you noticed a dark figure approaching you slowly. 
“Spider, you scared the shit out of me.” 
“Sorry. I just heard you scream, I was worried about you.” 
You looked at Spider, your eyes adjusted to the dark enough to make out his beautiful face and his dreads that were getting longer by the day. He needs a haircut, you decided mindlessly. You had to admit his presence was soothing to you, his presence in this room that only Neteyam truly ever came in, that only Neteyam ever slept in, that only Neteyam knew as well and intimately as you did. But Neteyam wasn’t here. Neteyam would never be here again. You winced at the sharp burst of pain that shot through you at the thought. 
“I’m alright. Thanks for asking. Just had a nightmare.” 
Spider sighed, picking at something on his arm. 
“Yeah. I get those too.” 
You barely stopped to consider what Spider must be going through, too self-involved in your own heartbreak to recognise his own, one that was probably closer to yours that you could have ever thought. You lost Neteyam, but Spider lost Kiri. You both lost a Sully, both lost a love you cared for deeply, more than anyone could ever understand except the other. 
“Ok, well, sleep well. Let me know if you need anything.” 
You saw Spider turn around and make his way towards the exit, and you could’t help the voice that came out uninvited. 
“Can you… stay? Please? I don’t want to be alone.” 
Spider stopped in his tracks, still turned away from you, and you watched as the atmosphere of the room shifted, as the silence became thicker than it had been a few moments ago. 
“Yeah… yeah, I can stay.” He slowly walked towards your desk chair that had a few clothes thrown carelessly on it, that he removed and put on your desk instead. He sat down, playing with the height and back support controls. 
“Goodnight, gorgeous.” 
You laughed quietly. 
“Spider, I meant stay with me.” You shuffled on one edge of your bed and patted the other side. You watched his eyes go wide and mouth agape, as he stared at you in shock. 
“You don’t have to, if you’re uncomfortable with it.”
He shook his head and lowered his eyes to the ground. “No, it’s not that, it’s just…” 
“Spider, it’s ok. Forget I asked, ok?” 
“Oh, shut up. I want to, ok? I just needed a second to adjust. Jeez.”
In true Spider fashion, he stomped over to the bed and got under the covers, and slowly turned around to face you. This was a strange feeling to adjust to for sure. You’ve never had a normal sized person in this bed before. You’ve never had anyone else in here before except Neteyam. Spider looked tiny by comparison, even though the young man was almost a whole head taller than you. Your synchronised breaths were the only thing filling up the tense, awkward silence. 
“This is a little weird.”
You couldn’t help chuckle. Well, at least one of you acknowledged it. 
“A little.” You admitted. “But I’m glad you’re here, Spider.” He gave you a boyish, crooked smile, one that you’ve grown up seeing develop, just like the rest of him had. You never really paid attention to Spider before. To you, he was just your weird, Tarzan-impersonator, lanky and smelly friend, someone that was just always there. After Neteyam, you never really paid attention to anyone, especially of the opposite sex. Why would you? Any second spent on such affairs was a second wasted, in your mind. But now, Neteyam was gone. Neteyam would move on, and he’d find a mate, whether in the Metkayina or back here, if he ever return. It was time for you to pay attention, it seemed. And you did.
Spider grew up into a beautiful man. He was tall and strong, a testimony to the entire life dedicated to living as close to a Na’vi as he possibly could in this body, that was pure muscle. He was completely naked barring a pair of boxers, and even in the cover of darkness, you couldn’t help trace his biceps and pecs, his pronounced collarbones, and settle you gaze on his face, still kind and innocent, still the same kid you’ve known your whole life. 
“Why are you looking at me like that?” you smiled a little, almost bashful that he caught you, not that you were in any way subtle about it.
“You’re beautiful, you know? I think I’ve always been caught up in my own bullshit to really notice, and I’m sorry for that.” He rolled his eyes, but the blush in his cheeks was so intense it was noticeable even in the dim light coming from the bioluminescent glow of the nature right outside your window. 
“You mean caught up in Neteyam.” 
It was your turns to blush, hard enough that your cheeks felt like they caught fire. He laughs at you. 
“It’s ok. You’re not the only one who knows what it’s like to love someone you can never have, and also not the only one who did things Neytiri would kill you for if she ever found out.” He opened up his arms. 
“Come here.” 
You hesitated for a second, but couldn’t help the sudden need to be held again, to allow yourself the chance of some sort of connection, some sort of lull in a sea of storms and heartache. Once in his arms, you were once again painfully aware of the difference between him and the man you’ve come to know by heart, the man that still held every part of you hostage, trapped in his hold.
“I know you’ve had a really tough time, and I know that you’re angry, and that most of all, you’re sad that it’s over. I am, too. But the rest of us are still here, you know? The rest of the world is still here. And I think maybe it’s time you give it a chance. Who knows what will happen?” 
“How can you be so ok with it? They left us. They abandoned us.” His hand was calloused, but warm and gentle and it caressed up and down your back, and the touch, so familiar and yet so different, brought tears in your eyes as you found yourself wishing once more other hands, bigger and bluer, could do it instead. 
“They had no choice. You really think any of them would abandon their home, their family, the forest… any of it, if they could help it?”
You were surprised at Spider’s words and way of thinking, so much more nuanced and level-headed than yours. You knew he was right. You knew it in your head that you shouldn’t blame any of them, shouldn’t blame him, that this was probably even harder for them that it would ever be for you, and yet still, your head and your heart rarely ever got along or saw eye to eye. Your heart was aching, shooting its poisoned blood all throughout your body with every heartbeat, trickling onto every cell, every ounce of you it could get to, making a mess out of you, leaving you reeling and broken, full of hatred and resentment.
“Don’t you… miss her?” He sighed, and stilled his hand movement on the nape of your neck. “I do. I miss them all. But this is a chance to prove myself, to live and show people that I am more than the Sullys’ little pet. And I will take this opportunity and give it everything I got. I suggest you do the same.”
“You should sleep. I’m gonna kick your ass in practice tomorrow otherwise.” 
And so you did. And for the first time in months, you had a peaceful night. 
Ten months older, I won't give in
Now that I'm clean, I'm never gonna risk it
The peace didn’t last, as it never seemed to, as Norm burst in the lab one day when you were doing some experiments. 
“Kid. I just heard from Jake.”
The mention of Jake’s name stilled you in your tracks. The name and the names associated with it could always do that, will always do that, even though it’s been months. You knew Jake would never risk their cover to get in touch, so whatever the reason for this was, it was serious. You felt a lump in your throat, restricting your airways, making the breaths you took shallow and uneven.
“What’s the matter?” 
”It’s Kiri. Something happened to her underwater. She’s unconscious. Jake asked us to come right away.”
Kiri… your sister in all the ways that mattered, you loved this girl with all your heart. The thought of anything bad happening to her was unthinkable to you. Another thought crept unwelcome in your mind, increasing the lump now completely obstructing your breath, that got stuck in your airways. Spider… 
Trying to calm your thoughts, you spoke, and the voice scratched your throat painfully on its way out. 
“Did you t-… did you tell him?” 
“He’s out in the forest. There is no time. Me and Max are going now. Kid… I think you should come with.” 
Eyebrows raised and mouth agape, you struggled to gather your thoughts enough to speak, only soft mumbles coming out instead. 
“W-wh-“ 
“Because I think there’s a lot left unsaid. I know you’re angry, and you have a right to be, far be it from me to tell you how to feel, but…” he sighed, and you could tell he felt uneasy speaking to you about this. “Spider got some closure. You didn’t. Take it from an old man, life’s too short to not have some peace of mind. Kiri’s unwell, and if something happens to her, you will regret for the rest of your life not having said a proper goodbye when they left, when they wanted to.”
“I know it’s not what you want to hear, but they did think they were protecting you by leaving. You know they love you, kid. You’re their sister, their best friend. You’re as good as Jake’s daughter. They wouldn’t have left if they ever thought they had a choice.” 
“Look, you don’t have to come. I just want what’s best for you, and I think isolating yourself the way you’ve been doing for months isn’t what’s best for you. Just come. Help us save Kiri, say your peace to the Sully family and then maybe you can move on, honey. And who knows… maybe you and Spider…” 
You refused to think about his last sentence and focused on how your mind was short-circuiting at his other words, at his desire for you to join, at the thought of seeing them again. Of seeing him again. Your heart was beating so hard it felt like it was trying to escape your ribcage, and you ran your hand up and down your arms in order to remove the sweat that was gathering on your skin. You knew you probably shouldn’t, you knew that you were better off never seeing them again and forgetting the way his touch and his presence and his voice still had the power to make your knees buckle under the weight of what he meant to you, of the calamitous love you will always feel for him, but another thought, more pressing and urgent, more demanding, made you speak before your mind could intervene. 
“Fine. Let’s go.” 
The drought was the very worst
When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst
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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 8 months ago
Text
I can't think of a title for these clone wars headcanons
Ahsoka does this thing that never fails to get a laugh out of the people around her and it’s the fact that she calls herself an angel whenever someone calls her out for doing something bad or reminds her of something she’s done she’ll look around before going “Who me? I’m an angel”
Which has the whole group bent over laughing hysterically sometimes they’re able to choke out a sentence that sounds like “Jedi aren’t supposed to lie” or something along those lines 
So I’ve had this idea for a while but I feel like something along the lines of sign language would be necessary for the troops to know if they’re on a stealth mission 
And even tho the Jedi don’t need to sign with each other it’s kind of common practice for them to learn some to communicate with the troops
Some signs can differ from troop to troop but they’re close enough that they’re easy to understand and it’s very rare that the other troop will get confused 
Sometimes those signs will leak off the field and into their day-to-day lives most of the time the troops will use signs to be kind to their Jedi who have migraines after a difficult battle but the signs are used the most around Anakin
I feel like it would be pretty easy for Jedi to get overstimulated especially if they’re as powerful as Anakin so it’s not uncommon for him to go nonverbal after a battle or if he’s in a force rich place
If he’s only kind of overwhelmed he’ll use Ahsoka and Obi-Wan as his interpreters and talk through their bonds but sometimes even that is too much so signs like “please” “thank you” “sorry” “hungry” “thirsty” “more” or “I’m okay” become pretty commonplace
It’s not enough to hold an in-depth conversation but that usually works in Anakin’s favor because drawn-out conversations tend to make him nonverbal for longer periods
When Anakin Ahsoka and Obi-Wan are stressed it shows up when they’re asleep 
Anakin sleep talks whenever he’s even slightly worried about something he’s woken poor Ahsoka and Obi-Wan up more times than the duo can count by saying stuff like “Hey hey are you awake?” while he’s out like a light
It freaks the duo out because he’s weirdly eloquent in his sleep bro is holding entire conversations do those conversations make sense to anyone but him? No but they’re conversations nonetheless
Ahsoka sleepwalks it doesn’t matter what happens during the day if it even slightly stresses her out she’s up and out of bed the second she’s slightly asleep it scared the force out of Anakin the first time she sleepwalked in their quarters because she was just standing over him menacingly 
The first time Obi-Wan was introduced to Ahsoka’s sleepwalking was during a sleepover that the trio was having and he had just drifted off to sleep when he heard the buzz of two lightsabers in the other room
Both he and Anakin walked into the kitchen to find Ahsoka standing with her sabers activated she wasn’t in a fighting stance by any means so they could easily disarm her but all Anakin did was ask “You want water snips?” and she nodded while holding out her sabers which he easily grabbed
Only after Ahsoka had a nice glass of water and laid back down did Obi-Wan ask questions the main one being “Is that normal?” and Anakins replies “Well the sabers are new” like someone talking about the weather 
It wasn’t until morning that the trio discovered Anakin and Ahsoka’s kitchen table was cut in half the togruta was incredibly apologetic but Anakin was just impressed that she managed to do it without waking them
Normally Obi-Wan snores like a lawn mower but when he’s stressed he grinds his teeth the real kicker is he grinds them so hard that it’s just as loud as the snoring and the only difference is the poor man wakes up with a sore locked jaw
One time Anakin heard a shiny say that they could never tell what Ahsoka was thinking and the other commented that she’s “like a vault” which had him doubled over in almost painful laughter 
When one of them finally gained the courage to ask him what was so funny he just said “If you wanna know what she’s thinking look at her face” and he’s not wrong girly has the most expressive face it’s like looking at glass
But the people who love her hope that trait never changes cause there’s nothing quite like seeing her face twist as she has to talk to some dirtbag or light up when she gets a compliment 
Recently I got some ideas when it comes to Clone Wars characters and baking
Anakin is one of the best damn cooks in the galaxy he’s also really good at making a meal out of virtually nothing it’s scary impressive but on the other hand the man can’t bake for shit
Cause with cooking measurements aren’t really needed in fact on Tatooine people would scoff if you asked for them but it’s kind of the opposite for baking unless you’ve been doing it for a very long time
So Anakin “Just pour it until it looks good” Skywalker hates baking with a burning passion which is funny because he’s got a sweet tooth the size of a gundark
Ahsoka’s only really used to cooking by Anakin’s side which results in her only really remembering half the recipe like girl can mince like no one else but she can’t make a full dish without calling Anakin to ask for help 
But baking is where this girl thrives she loves to bake and try new recipes which works out because Anakin’s the human equivalent of a garbage disposal with the aforementioned sweet tooth
Cody is pretty proficient at cooking and baking he doesn’t do anything fancy and he doesn’t really like doing either he mostly learned out of necessity cause
Obi-Wan and Rex can’t cook or bake for shit and they’re perfectly fine with that fact like they’re a-ok with living off government rations if it means they never have to step foot in a kitchen 
Padme sweet angel lovely girl thinks she can cook and bake can she….. No
But the thing is she tries so hard and puts her whole heart and soul into her cooking and baking so everyone tries to act like she can it’s the galaxies best kept secret and it’s one that everyone’s happy to keep
There was one time when that secret was almost spilled on Ahsoka’s birthday when Padme offered to make her cake and no one could warn the poor girl cause that would spoil the surprise party
All Anakin could do to rectify the situation was buy a cake from his and Ahsoka’s favorite bakery and hide it in their quarters after the party
During the actual party Anakin pulled her off to the side to warn her just before the cake could be brought out and from an outsider's perspective it looked like a sweet moment between the siblings 
But in actuality all was going on this “Soka you know how you said I was the best master you could ask for” “Yes I said it when I first walked in are you finally going senile” “Well remember all that love when I ask you for the biggest favor” “which is?” “Padme made your cake” “No” “And I need you to act like you love it” “Anakin please if you love me at all” “If you love me you’ll eat the cake and tell her you love it and once the parties over you’ll get to eat your favorite cake in the whole wide world”
And they kind of just sit there and Anakin swears a few tears fall before Ahsoka says “Fine” and he hugs the everloving force out of her before they walk over to eat a slice of the galaxy's prettiest abomination 
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stardustvanfleet · 1 year ago
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Here With You - Jake Kiszka x Reader
FLUFF blurb. 937 words.
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You wake up with a terrible cold, but your boyfriend Jake is here to comfort you. He's got you. this is entirely self-indulgent because i have an awful cold i mean what
tagging some of my jake babes @sinsofstardust (thank you for encouraging me to write this and for beta reading!! i love you court!) @sparrowofthedawnsworld @texas-bbq-pringles @jakesguitarsolo @losfacedevil @tommie-gvf @lightmylove-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @heavens-hearken
soft tender jake begins under the cut <3
“Jakey… I’m… I’m not feeling very well.”
It was morning, and you had only just woken up in the bed you shared with your boyfriend to a splitting headache. Normally, the only sensation you were accustomed to as you shook away the curtains of sleep were Jake’s arms around you, but today waking up was accompanied by an overwhelming achiness and stuffiness that was impossible to ignore. As you spoke, your words came out raspier than you had intended, but perhaps that was to be expected with your lungs, throat and nose feeling as miserable as they currently were.
Jake, still spooning you with his lips pressed sleepily to your shoulder, sat up a bit straighter at your words, his arms tightening around your waist. His voice was still thick with sleep, and tender with concern, as he asked softly, “What’s the matter, honey?”
You turned over onto your back so you could face him, his hands remaining around your waist as you cuddled into him in this new position, and looked up to meet his gaze. Even through the uncomfortable pressure in your head and the raw feeling at the back of your throat, you couldn’t help but smile a bit as you made eye contact. Jake’s presence alone was comforting in that way. He had slept in one of his old t-shirts, with his silver chain necklace tucked underneath the soft cotton. Somehow, the way his hair was tousled from the pillow made him all the more beautiful.
“I think I’ve got a cold…” you started, but you were cut off by a sudden coughing fit, and Jake pulled you closer into his chest as your lungs struggled for a moment. The fabric was thin, and you could feel his heartbeat through his shirt. A sense of calm washed over you as Jake held you through your coughs— and when you finally caught your breath, you looked back up at him sheepishly, adding, “...it might be a bad one.”
“Oh, baby… my sweet girl… I’m sorry,” Jake murmured, keeping one hand on your waist while the other reached up to brush your hair out of your face, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You hummed, sighing contentedly, melting into the feeling of his arms around you, and how safe he made you feel. Jake was leaving chaste, gentle kisses across your forehead now, moving across your temples to your cheeks, still speaking softly to you between each one. “Don’t you worry about a thing today, okay…? You won’t have to lift a finger… I’m gonna take care of you, baby… whatever you need… I’ve got tea, I’ve got soup…” Jake’s voice trailed off for a moment as he pulled back only for a moment— grinning a little at the look of adoration on your face, chuckling under his breath with endearment, before letting his hand cup your cheek ever-so-tenderly. “...and I’ve got plenty more of these.”
He leaned in and captured your lips with his, his kiss so slow, so loving, so gentle. You felt a blush creep up in your cheeks as you smiled against him. His lips were so soft, and they knew you so well. When he finally did pull back, you were giggling despite yourself. “Jakey… I don’t wanna get you sick…”
He shrugged. “Baby, we live together… it might be unavoidable anyways. And, for the record…” He gave you a smile that made your heart swell within your chest. He was already leaning in again as he finished his thought.  “...it’s always worth it to kiss you…”
The kiss was patient, warm. A promise to take care of you. Not just today, but always. Despite the ache in your head and the burning in your lungs, a sense of peace washed over you as you kissed him back, falling head over heels once again into the familiar feeling of your lips moving in harmony. Home.
You couldn’t be sure how long this second kiss lasted— it could have been minutes —but in the end, you only pulled away to avert your mouth from your boyfriend’s as another cough forced its way out from your lungs. Jake hummed a soft sound of affectionate pity, murmuring, “My poor baby… what can I do for you right now, love?”
As you caught your breath again and cleared your throat, you let out a sigh, wrapping your arms around him and cuddling right back into his chest. As if subconsciously, he instantly pulled you in tighter, his own arms enveloping you in his warmth. “Right now, Jakey, I just want you to hold me…”
Another soft sound of satisfaction hummed from Jake’s lips as he looked down at you with those warm brown eyes, a smile on his face that tugged at all of your heartstrings just right. He leaned in to press another kiss to your forehead, saying quietly right against your skin, “I think I can manage that.”
You let your face press into his shirt, the warmth of his body and the blankets already somehow making you feel somewhat better. He’d take care of you. You knew he would. Clinging to him, you felt sleep once again beckoning to you, but Jake seemed to encourage it— letting his hand stroke up and down your back comfortingly. It was still early. You had all the time in the world.
As you began to doze off against him, you murmured out soft, sleepy gratitudes to the feeling of his heartbeat. “I love you, Jakey.” When he spoke, his voice was a whisper. “I love you too… so much, baby.”
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builtbybrokenbells · 2 years ago
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Gold Dust Woman | iv
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Driven to the brink of insanity, y/n turns to her best friend for advice in her time of need. A Sunday brunch paired with day drinking leads to a world of new information she hopes will help her to better understand the new world she is caught up in.
Read part three here
Pairing: jake kiszka x f!reader, sam kiszka x f!reader
Word Count: 12.5k
Warnings: sexting, sort of phone sex I guess, dirty talk, name calling (ish?), pet names, touch of praise, teasing, drinking, swearing, gossip (is that a warning? idk anymore guys), mentions of cheating, but nothing super heavy for this chapter! sorry if i miss any!
in my hungover state I present you with this! I’ve been waiting to write this chapter literally since I’ve started this. it’s super important to the plot and I think clears up a lot of stuff!! plus it’s a good little summary of everything leading up to this chapter. also id just like to say a super sincere thank you for the love i have received on this series. it was a big step out of my comfort zone and i was really worried that it wouldn’t be enjoyed, but you guys are so kind and supportive. i <3 you all. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻
The tiny diner was overcrowded for its size, but still as welcoming as ever. Cheer and comfortability radiated through the air from the minute you stepped inside, never failing to brighten spirits. The small booth in the very back corner was routinely reserved for you and Danny on your Sunday outings. Brunch, always, but it was normally followed by some sort of wholesome activity to fill the afternoon. Then again, it didn’t matter what you were doing; time spent with Danny was always wholesome, and quite fulfilling. His friendship was one of your most prized possessions, mostly because you never really experienced anything like it before him. The conversation was never dull, radiating a type of safety that made you feel like you could tell him anything. Jokes were always well timed, advice was free-flowing, and a gesture of comfort was routinely available if needed.
Sundays were your favourite day, because you got the opportunity to spend time with him. Sometimes, the other boys would join, but that was rare. Even if they opted not to, you were fine with that, because you knew that the booth in the very back would always be reserved for two. That day was no different; you picked Danny up from his apartment at the usual time, and you both showed each other new music discoveries from the prior week. After the high stress of the weekend, you were happy to return to some type of normalcy, even if your regret for your careless decisions were constantly looming over you. When you arrived at the diner, the familiarity of the scene wrapped you up in a warm hug.
When you settled in to the seat, you placed your purse beside you and your phone face down on the table. The morning had started in a strange way, still leaving you frazzled hours later. After yesterdays activities, you had woken up tangled in the bed sheets and wrapped around Jake Kiszka. You never thought you would find yourself in such a state, but the reality of it was all too overwhelming to ignore. Although it wasn’t a bad start to the day, you were still aching with residual stress from the entirety of the situation. When he woke, too, the feeling seemed to wash away. There was a few hours where things seemed perfectly right, instead of troublesome; laughing and kissing your way through the earliest hours of your day, cooking breakfast and sharing cups of coffee along with stolen glances and smiles. It was beautiful in its own twisted way, making you genuinely believe you could spend the rest of your life doing just that. Once he’d left you on your lonesome, the guilt creeped back in like a disease, eating away at every part of you and taking you for its own. It had yet to satiate, even with Danny in front of you and a promise of a good day.
“You look terrible.” He stated, taking a sip out of the coffee mug the waitress had quickly delivered. Your eyes snapped up to him, shocked at the blunt statement.
“Thanks?” You furrowed your eyebrows, a small laugh stuck in your throat.
“No, not like that.” He corrected, placing his menu on the table. There was no need for it; you both had tried the entirety of the menu the restaurant offered, settling on your favourites long ago. “You always look pretty. I mean, you look like you just saw a ghost.” He was right, you couldn’t deny it. The bags under your eyes were darker than ever, skin pale and eyes distant. You were a mess, definitely looking like yourself but a mostly just a shell of it. It didn’t take a detective to figure that out.
“Yeah,” you chuckled, unsure of how to respond to his statement. “Guess I just haven’t been sleeping well.”
“Penny for your thoughts?” He shot back, his gaze unwavering. You shifted under the stare, feeling like he had already picked up on your predicament. You hated that about him; he always seemed to know there was something on your mind, even if you exhausted every way to hide it. It was just a Danny thing, and you had picked up on that long ago. He cared too much, noticed too much. Secrets didn’t exist around him, and perhaps that was why you were so excited for this particular outing, subconsciously hoping you might be able to get at least something off your chest.
“I don’t know if there’s enough time in the day.” You grumbled, taking a long sip of water from your cup. “I wouldn’t want to make your ears bleed.”
“I’ll strike you a deal.” He offered, causing you to look up at him. “Bottomless mimosas on me, and a shoulder to cry on.” You eyed him, nervous to agree but comforted at the thought of speaking your mind. “What’s said at brunch stays at brunch. I’ll drive home.” His invitation was very tempting. As much as you felt like you should keep the turmoil to yourself, the idea of advice or even just to confess your mistakes was overwhelmingly alluring. After a moment, you decided you would have to say something, even just an elusive idea to get some kind of answer to your internal debate.
“Deal, but it stays between us.” You finally said, realizing that if you didn’t speak your troubles aloud, they would eat you alive. Besides, there was nobody in the world that you trusted more than Danny. You knew you could probably confess murder and he would only ask how to help. “But my lips are sealed until those mimosa’s get here.” You smiled.
When the waitress came to check in and take orders, you both settled on a meal and Danny was sure not to forget your drinks. As you waited for her return, you struggled to arrange the thoughts in your brain. You had no idea how to explain the situation to him, or even where to begin. You were scared he would think differently of you, even though deep down, you knew he wouldn’t. The whole thing was sick and twisted, and you were so on edge that you thought you might combust. The last thing you wanted was to lose your friendship with Danny because of your inability to understand your own feelings. When the champagne flute was finally in front of you, your stomach churned with unease. You looked up to meet his eyes, but found he was already waiting in anticipation.
“So, what’s going on?” Before answering, you grabbed the glass and made quick work at finishing the liquid in one go. You figured you’d need the courage to tell this story.
“Remember that lesson we were talking about?” You asked, checking the flute to make sure you didn’t miss any alcohol before setting it back down.
“Vaguely,” he smirked “but I don’t think you ever told me exactly what it was.”
“Yeah, because I still have no idea what the fuck it is.” You let out a nervous chuckle. “I made a really big mess of things, and I have no idea how to fix it.”
“Okay, don’t panic. We can work through it together.” Your heart warmed at his words, feeling a little better just at the thought of his input. Even if he were to tell you that you were an idiot, you knew you deserved it. There had never been a time where advice from Danny hadn’t helped, even if it was only for a moment. And, although you hated to admit it, he was almost always right. “What kind of mess?”
“A big one.” You said, unable to find a better way to describe it. “I guess I probably have to go way back to the start for anything to make sense.” You sighed, placing your head in your hands. Your plan for keeping your feelings quiet had crumbled long ago; if you were going to tell him anything, you would have to explain it all. “The lesson was Sam. I’ve been in love with him for months.”
“Mhm,” Danny nodded, pausing his response as the waitress walked over to replace your drink. Once she was out of earshot, he spoke. “I had an idea.”
“Was it that obvious?” He quickly averted his eyes, not wanting you to see his face as he reacted to your question. You could tell he was trying not to laugh, finding your inquiry quite funny. “Oh, god.” You groaned.
“No, not exactly obvious.” He lied. You let out a groan, embarrassed that everybody seemed to know about your crush. “I don’t think he did, though. He’s pretty oblivious.” He comforted you, the second part of his statement much more genuine. “Why is that such a big deal?” You audibly laughed at his comment, realizing that he had no idea the extent of the problem.
“He never gave me any idea he liked me back. Flirted with girls at my house, acted like I was just another one of the guys. I never really felt like I meant anything more to him.” You explained. “And I was too much of a coward to say anything. Thought it was better if I kept everything a secret. I didn’t want to risk losing you guys as friends. I like you all too much.”
“We like you too, y/n.” He smiled, finding your worry silly. He knew that whatever happened, he still wanted to be your friend. You were his solace away from the chaos of his band mates, and to him, it was the best thing in the whole world. You gave him a soft smile, taking a moment to sip at your drink again. “No matter what, you’re always going to be my Sunday brunch date.” He assured you. You let out a long breath, now preparing to get into the deepest part of the conversation.
“So that night, after you and I talked, I figured that I had to snap out of it. I spent every weekend watching him, hoping he would make a move, or even give me some sort of hint that he acknowledged I existed in any way other than a friend. I was tired of waiting. I wanted to have fun, so I asked you to play beer pong.” He hummed an agreement, letting you know he was following. “And I partnered with Jake.” And what a grave mistake, that was. “I was drunk, and at first it was friendly, no different than usual. Then he started looking and talking to me different. It wasn’t bad, obviously, but he was very clearly flirting.” You paused, noticing the small smile he was fighting back. You tried to ignore it, not liking the way he was looking at you. “I was really drunk, and it felt really nice to be noticed. I shouldn’t have entertained it, but I did. I played along with him, thinking it was harmless. The game ended, we went out separate ways, and I figured that was the end of it. It should have been the end of it.”
“It wasn’t, though, was it?” You shook your head at his words. The conversation was stopped by plates of food in front of you and another replacement for your empty mimosa. You took a break from the grievous topic to have a bite to eat before continuing. After a few moments, you answered.
“Nope,” you sighed, popping the p to accentuate the impact. “We talked for a little while longer, then I went to the bathroom. Heard someone playing my guitar in my room, so of course I had to check.” You cursed yourself for not knowing better. “There he was, playing so well that it draws you in without a second thought, looking as pretty as ever.” He got a laugh out of your statement, never hearing two compliments sound so much like insults. “I joined him and we talked for a while, completely normal stuff.”
“You guys hooked up?”
“Ah!” You snapped, pressing your finger to your lips, silently telling him to keep his voice down. He let out a hearty laugh at your dramatics, knowing that nobody in the vicinity gave a single care about what you were talking about.
“So that’s a yes?”
“Yeah, sort of, I guess!” You said, exasperated at the thought of recalling that moment aloud, especially to someone so close with Jake. You took another long drink, hoping the alcohol would calm your nerves. “I went to bed, and I didn’t know what to think. Part of me was thrilled, but a bigger one never wanted to do it again. I felt so guilty, almost like I cheated on Sam even though he had no idea I liked him. How stupid is that?”
“It’s not stupid, y/n. I think it’s pretty normal, actually.” He shrugged. “We live in our own head, and when we like someone so much, especially for a long time, it kind of starts to feel real. I think you feeling guilty is actually more normal than not caring. Means you really do like him, and it’s not just a surface level thing.” The confirmation was nice, but also made you feel even worse. You felt as though you shouldn’t be allowed to have feelings for Sam anymore, especially after how you spent your morning. “I take it that’s not the end?” He chuckled, picking up on your sullen expression.
“No,” you groaned, burying your head in your hands again. “I wish it was, but no.” He reached over, looping his fingers around your wrist and gently pulling your hand away from your face. You glanced up at him through your eyelashes, noticing his smile.
“It’s okay. What’s said at brunch stays at brunch.” He promised. You gave a slight nod, letting your hand fall into his. He rested them on the table, giving yours a reassuring squeeze.
“When I woke up and only saw you three in the living room, I kind of thought he regretted it, too. Figured he sobered up and… yeah.” You laughed, not feeling a need to get into your insecurities. “I was nervous, still feeling pretty guilty, but we were all hungover so I just blamed it on that. Things felt normal for a minute, when we were all just sitting and falling asleep. Then he came back. From the minute I saw him, I knew he didn’t regret any of it. He gave me my coffee. My coffee, exactly how I order it. He remembered, and I don’t even think I’ve ever told him.” You mumbled, feeling a blush rise at the memory. “We ended up going to the basement, and nothing happened, really. We kissed and talked, and we kind of agreed he would stay after everyone left.”
“That doesn’t sound bad.” He reassured you. You narrowed your stare, causing him to back down instantly.
“Aside from the feelings thing, no.” You admitted, feeling bad for giving him such a harsh look. “While we were playing songs, everything felt fine. It was fun, I wasn’t nervous or worried about anything, and I thought that maybe things would be fine. I know Jake isn’t the bad guy; he’s not someone I wouldn’t want to fall in love with. I think I’d like it, actually, if the situation were that simple. He’s always been kind to me, he’s funny, he remembers things about me that nobody bothers to. He cares about the little things. He pays attention.”
“And Sam doesn’t.” He affirmed. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.
“He never has. I feel like I wasted months loving someone who didn’t give a shit whether I was around or not.” Danny looked like he wanted to protest, but bit his tongue instead. It was your time to vent, and he wanted you to say what you needed without interruption. “I went to the kitchen to get more coffee, more comfortable with everything. I thought maybe if Jake and I spent enough time together, the feelings for Sam would just be… obsolete. I’m sure it would have worked, too. But, he just had to follow me.”
“Sam?” You nodded, giving him a bit of clarity. You were so worked up that you were rushing yourself through the story.
“Yeah, we just chatted for a minute, both drank our coffee like normal friends. Then he tried to hold my hand! And then tried to hint around that he liked me, too!”
“He did not,” Danny sat back in the booth, letting his head slump against the seat, internally cringing at his best friends terrible timing.
“Sure did! The whole confession was pretty funny, actually. Not to me, but definitely to someone! It was like god was sitting up in the sky laughing at me while it happened.”
“He’s so stupid.” Danny groaned, clearly exasperated himself. Danny was so unapologetic about his secret love of girl talk, and it made you incredibly happy. He really was your best friend in every sense of the word.
“Yeah, and I was a little pissed off! It made me feel like I was only worth loving when he was afraid he couldn’t have me. We argued for a few minutes, and he basically pried the confession about Jake out of me so he could use it for his own personal agenda! Then, he got this grand idea that he’d make it into a competition between him and and his brother to see who can win me over.” Danny gave a wince at the thought, already aware of Sam’s thought process before you even said it aloud. “I told him it was a bad idea, and I meant it. It is a terrible idea.” You clarified before telling him any more. After a few moments of silence, his eyes were urging you to continue. “We kissed.” You sighed. He let out another laugh, like what you had said was a joke rather than something you deeply regretted. His hand squeezed yours once more, another gesture of comfort. “What’s so funny?”
“No, no. You tell your story, I’ll talk later.” He assured you. With an air of discomfort, you accepted the deal, deciding to purge yourself of the last bit of the story so you could get it over with.
“It was fantastic. Something I’d been waiting forever to do. It almost felt wrong because it felt so right. So I planned on ending things with Jake. It was the right thing to do; I know if Sam had kissed me even a day sooner, there would have been no problem or conflict. I would have been over the moon.” Danny gave a hum, understanding what you meant, but not certain he agreed with it. Still, he held his thoughts back until you were finished. “You guys came in, and Sam left. Jake was still in the living room, because I told him to stay after everybody went home. I went in to talk to him, fully prepared to end things, but when I saw him, it was like it disappeared. He’s just so… captivating. Like, when I’m around him, he’s the only thing that exists.”
“Yeah, he does have a pretty big personality. Hard to ignore. He’s quiet, but I think that’s part of the charm.”
“Yep, because everything that comes out of his mouth is perfectly thought out.” You snipped, angry at the thought of his perfection. “He started talking, and he knew Sam and I had done something in the kitchen. I didn’t even have to say anything to him. There was a lot of back and fourth, kind of unimportant. I don’t even think I could explain it, anyway. But, he basically said that they both had feelings for me and they decided that they should both have a fair shot at winning me over. Isn’t that fucked up? That they decided that on their own, and didn’t tell me?”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“That’s what I thought! Anyway, whatever. Doesn’t matter now, I guess. He said some cryptic shit and I told him to leave, but it was mostly just because I was pissed off. I don’t think I really wanted him to go. Like I said, it doesn’t matter, because he stayed the night, last night. He left before I came to pick you up.” You sat back in your seat, defeated still, even after talking through the whole thing. The words being spoken into the universe only seemed to make you feel worse about the predicament. The only hope you had left was that Danny would have some sort of miracle advice to help you out, but you didn’t want to keep your hopes too high. “I think Jake’s been feeling the same way about me as I feel about Sam.”
“Okay.” Danny said, showing you that he was sufficiently aware of your predicament. “My turn?”
“Please.” You urged, finishing the last of your drink. You barely had the glass back on the table before the waitress was there to replace it. You were starting to feel the buzz of the liquor, realizing that you were genuinely getting day-drunk just to forget about your own mistakes. You were at an all time low, you decided. Your usual attitude towards relationships had continually assured you protected yourself, never letting anyone get to close, and never falling for anybody too hard. It was lonely, but loneliness was much preferred to how you were feeling in that moment. Now, in addition to a broken heart and a guilty conscience, you were scared you were going to lose the only true friends you ever had.
“I’ve known Jake and Sam for a long time. It’s a blessing and a curse. I love them to death, they’re family. Fun to be around, great friends, all that mushy shit. But, after so many years, you pick up on the bad stuff, too.” You were intrigued, now. As the fourth glass of the heartache remedy slid down your throat, you felt yourself leaning in closer to the table, not expecting a response like such. You thought Danny would call you on your bullshit, tell you that you were an idiot. You prepared yourself for that, still, because the conversation wasn’t over. It was still a possibility, but you certainly didn’t think his advice would lead in with the Kiszka’s baggage.
“You mean to tell me they’re not perfect? That god didn’t hand craft them and put them on earth just to make the rest of us feel bad?” He had another hearty laugh, finding your tipsy smile hilarious. Your ability to joke even through your turmoil was heartwarming.
“Seems that way sometimes, but no. At least I don’t think so.” He reassured you. “Jake and Sam are a lot more alike than everyone thinks, and not just physically. Sometimes, they’re more alike than Jake and Josh, which is incredibly hard to do. I mean, they’re brothers, so it’s expected, I guess. I didn’t notice it when we were in high school, but Jake wasn’t around as often. Once we all graduated, we started making music and spending a lot of time together. I think that’s when I realized how similar they were.”
“Mhm,” you agreed, wholeheartedly believing him. The two were strikingly similar in lots of ways, despite a few blatant things that offset their shared traits. You could even tell through their touch, or the small interactions that left you guessing if they previously conspired what they were going to say to you, or if it was just their Kiszka nature.
“Their taste in girls has always been one of those things. Over the years, girlfriends or flings caught interest in the other brother, or vice versa, and it was always a bit messy. It seemed like if you fell for one of them, you’d eventually fall for both of them. Or if one of them fell for you, the other would, too. It’s really fucked up, actually.” He gave a little chuckle, trying his best to explain the observation. “They caught on to it pretty soon, and fought over it once or twice, but it never seemed to cause an issue between them. They’d be mad for a few days, then they would move on like it never happened. I don’t know if they accepted it, or if they just didn’t care. Personally, I couldn’t do what they do. It would drive me crazy.” He added, clearly letting on that whatever he was leading in to was common, very deeply rooted and still pressing. You could see in his eyes that the idea was unsettling to him. “For a year or so, whichever way it went, the other just admitted defeat and moved on.”
“Oh, wow.” You breathed, trying to wrap your head around his words. It felt like you were learning deep lore about them that you weren’t supposed to know.
“I wouldn’t be telling you all this if I felt like I shouldn’t be, but it seems like they’re back to their old ways. Trust me when I say it’s much harder on you than it is on them.” You nodded, agreeing with the statement. The whole twisted relationship had given you nothing but turmoil since it had begun, and you were desperate for insight on how to fix it. To them, it just seemed like another day’s work. “Our first real tour, Sam fell super hard for a girl we met at a bar one night. Like, I mean head over heels, stars in his eyes, the whole nine yards. He got her number, and they were in love before we even left the bar. They ended up getting together, and things were really great between them. She even came along with us for a few weeks. They were happy for a while, but then Sam let tour life get to him, I think. He fucked up, hooked up with a random girl and threw the whole thing in the garbage. It was absolutely his fault, and I’ll never defend him over it, but he was young and had no idea how to handle the fame, even if we weren’t that big back then. He seemed to cling to every bit of attention he got. I know he regretted it as soon as he realized what he did, but obviously it was too late. I don’t blame her for leaving.” He shrugged. You were watching intently, immersed in every word.
“Now, I don’t know for certain what happened. Nobody talks about it anymore, and we never really did back then, either. It’s in the past, and everybody wants to keep it that way. But, that girl ended up in Jake’s bed after the big blowout. I don’t know if she initiated it, or he instigated, but it didn’t really matter, anyway. Sam found out and went insane, and he wasn’t interested in knowing who started it. They fought, like really fought, fists and all. We thought that would be the end of the band; they didn’t speak to each other for weeks. Rehearsals and concerts were constantly tense. The girl wasn’t even in the picture, anymore, Sam just felt betrayed and Jake didn’t want to admit he was in the wrong. Before, I don’t think he was ever really in love with anybody, so it didn’t matter as much. But that time, Sam reached his breaking point.”
“Holy shit,” you didn’t care about anything else happening around you. The story was captivating; both boys were very closed off, never giving too much away about themselves. They’d always answer questions if asked, but you never really heard much about the past, especially relationships. You were realizing why, now. “Poor Sam.”
“I guess.” Danny shrugged. “In that situation, yeah, but he’s not innocent. After they made up, he never let it go. He wanted to get back at him, and he did. Ever since then, Jake never had a chance to have a relationship. The minute he showed interest in someone, Sam was already trying to win her over. At first, I think it was just a coincidence. They’re similar, they like the same type of girls, obviously that can cause some issues. After that, it was different. Clearly intentional and meant to be hurtful. I stopped feeling sorry for them a long time ago. They know what they’re doing, and neither of them want to be the bigger person and apologize. Over the years, it’s just grown into a big mess.”
“So that’s why they’re doing this?”
“Yeah.” He felt no need to lie. “They’ve always been competitive. It’s a brother thing. Sam more than Jake, really. I think it’s because he’s younger, maybe feels inadequate sometimes. But to be competitive over girls with real feelings… I don’t like it. After so long, they learned to take the loss and move on. Better luck next time, to them. They mope around for a few days and then they’re back to best friends like nothing ever happened. The girls always end up getting hurt in the end, and that’s the fucked up part. They can hurt their own feelings as much as they want, but I don’t think it’s right to do it to anyone else.”
“That’s why Jake knew what happened in the kitchen. And Sam was so certain he was going to win me over. They’re masters at the game.” The whole wicked, devil-like persona’s were making more sense, now. Every move was thought out, meticulously planned and executed with grace. They’ve been playing this game far longer than you’d even been a part of it, and you were curious if they even had real feelings at all, or if it was just a part of the spiteful process.
“Masters, I’m not sure about. Cocky and annoying, absolutely. I don’t care what they have against each other. They have to settle that between themselves, not bring anyone else into it. All of us consider you a friend. A best friend. What they’re doing hurts everyone, but clearly it’s been hurting you the most.” You finished your drink, looking around for the waitress to get another refill. You were in information overload, more questions and worries filling your head with every second that passed. He picked up on the nervous energy, giving your hand another small squeeze to bring you back to reality.
“Do you think they even care about me, or is it just to piss each other off?” His eyes widened, realizing how easily you could have interpreted that from his story.
“No, y/n, not like that. I can’t speak for certainty on everything, but I am pretty sure Jake’s head over heels for you. He always perks up when we talk about you, and he’s the first one ready when we’re going to your place. Most of the time, he’s begging us to hurry up. I can see it in his eyes. We all see it, and I think that’s why I got so excited when I saw you guys flirting on Friday. Hoped that he’d finally get the courage to make a move.”
“Okay,” you whispered, scared to ask anything about the other boy, unsure if you even wanted to know the answer.
“Sam likes you, too. He told me himself, and not just yesterday, either. I’m not picking a side, or trying to get you to choose. Just telling you what I think you need to know so you can stop beating yourself up.” He explained. “I don’t know why Sam didn’t speak up, sooner. I told him you liked him, gave him encouragement, but he never said anything. He acted like he was oblivious, but he knew. Everyone knows you have feelings for Sam. I love you, but it was obvious.” Your cheeks turned rosy, embarrassed at your own inability to hide your emotions. “I think they both really like you, and they were scared of the same thing. They didn’t want the other to steal you away, but they fell into routine again and they’re doing exactly what they wanted to avoid. When Sam saw you with Jake, It probably lit a old fire in him, which is why it all happened so fast.” As much as you wanted the knowledge to give you reassurance, it only made the dread grow even larger.
“I don’t know what to do, Danny.” You sighed, closing your eyes to ward off the stress headache. You retracted your hand from his, missing the comfort of the hold almost immediately. You brought your fingers to your temples and gently massaged the area, satiating the ache slightly. “I never should have started anything with Jake. I had feelings for Sam. It was selfish, and I know that.”
“I think you had feelings for him, too. Maybe you just didn’t realize it.” He offered. “It’s not like you to start something like that without any reason. Plus, like I said, if you like one of them… history tends to repeat itself.” He said, keeping the truth light.
“If I didn’t, I sure do now.” You let out a humourless laugh, pushing the food around on your plate with your fork. “I feel like I maybe put Sam on a pedestal because I had such a big crush on him. I always thought I was in love with him, but I was never with him. I didn’t know anything beyond the surface, never experienced anything more than friendship. Not even an idea. Now, I’ve been with Jake. I know him, and I feel like maybe what I felt for Sam was just infatuation.”
“Could have been.” He shrugged, unable to answer that one for you.
“But when I’m around him, both of them, actually, they have this pull, like the earth is forcing me into their arms. It’s impossible to think clearly with them around, and I think maybe I just have to take a step back to figure it out.”
“Good luck with that.” He joked, eyes drifting to your phone on the table. “Your phone’s been going off all day, and I’m pretty sure I have an idea who it is.” You couldn’t deny anything, mostly because you knew he was right. Intermittently, another vibration would sound, and you knew if you picked it up, it would be one of the brothers you were trying so hard to ignore. “I don’t care if you ignore them, as long as I still get to see you. Wouldn’t give up our brunch dates for the world.” He sent a playful wink your way.
“Let’s just run away, get married and have mimosa’s for the rest of our lives on a cute little porch while we watch the sunset.” You grinned. “Don’t have to worry about anything ever again.”
“Don’t tempt me,” he smirked. “If I get involved in this, I’m definitely winning.” You both shared a fit of giggles, happy to ease the tension with light jokes. “But seriously, if that’s what you want to do, do it. I know how hard on the head they can be normally, so I can’t imagine what it’s like being in your position.” He sympathized. “It’s not fair to you. I think maybe that’s why Jake tried to be so secretive about it, he wanted to make the move and start something before Sam could get involved. But, it’s like some weird brother thing; they can always tell.”
“I don’t know what to do. I feel like I ignored too many lessons, and the universe is super mad at me right now.” You sighed, your attention grabbed by the waitress dropping another drink off. You mumbled a small thank you before she disappeared again. “I like them both, but I don’t want to hurt either of them. I don’t want to get hurt. The whole thing is fucked up.”
“May I offer my opinion?” He asked, mischief laced in his tone. You gave a nod, figuring that anything would help at this point. “I don’t think you’re going to hurt them nearly as bad as you think.” He assured you. “Yeah, obviously, however this goes, someone is bound to be disappointed, but they’ve been playing this game for years. If you like both of them, play the game with them.”
“Encourage it?” You were in disbelief that he would even suggest it.
“Yep.” He confirmed, no hesitation in his voice. “Listen, they started this whole thing. They think it’s okay to play with your feelings, so play with theirs, instead. Maybe teach them a lesson.” He explained. “Don’t let them run things. You’re in control here, even if you don’t think you are. Have fun with them, and hopefully they’ll see what they’re doing is wrong.”
“You’re evil, Daniel.” You contemplated the idea while finishing your final mimosa, feeling positively tipsy.
“No, just think it’s time they got some karma. They have to learn eventually, they can’t do this for the rest of their lives.” He said, throwing his cutlery and napkins on his plate. “As long as you think you can do it without hurting your own feelings.”
“I’m so pissed off at them that I don’t even care about that.” You chuckled, but it wasn’t funny. The statement was completely truthful.
“So teach them, and then we can eat our brunch in peace. When you do, hopefully they’ll never do it again.” You weren’t expecting Danny to side with you in the matter, but you especially weren’t expecting for him to cheer you on. As you listened to his story of the years he spent dealing with them, you understood why he was telling you to do it. Knowing Danny, you could only assume that there had been many instances where he had to do damage control because of Jake and Sam’s childish behaviour, and he was sick of it. Plus, he seemed quite annoyed with the amount of broken hearts that have ensued because of the brothers tyranny.
Part of you thought it was crazy, that there was no way you could do that to the boys. The other, angrier part of you thought it was a great idea. After only two days of turmoil caused by their behaviour, you were in shambles. Now, knowing that they were completely aware of their own actions, you had no issue handing it right back to them. “Okay.” You agreed. The liquor definitely had an impact on your decision making, but not enough for you to worry about it.
“There. Problem solved.” He smiled. “Maybe that lesson you were dreading wasn’t really your lesson after all.”
You both left the diner with a little more pep in your step than before. Your fears were settled, but not fully resolved. Still, the sense of doom that was looming over you seemed to ease up, and you accredited it solely to Danny. Without his words, you would still be drowning in your own misery. You spotted your car, making a move to get in the drivers seat. As you reached for the handle, you paused yourself, realizing that you were in no state to drive. You reached into your purse, fishing out your keys, and turned to see Danny already holding his hand out for them.
“All yours,” you said, dropping them in his palm. “Forgot.” You let out a giggle.
“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes, sending a playful smile your way. You walked to the other side of the vehicle, getting in to the passenger side. Once you had your seatbelt buckled, he began the journey home. You connected your phone to the speaker, clumsily tapping the screen to unlock it. You hit shuffle on your playlist, not having the mind to scroll through and pick a song.
You turned your head towards the window, letting your eyes take in the sights as you passed by. Your mind was spinning with thoughts, but none stuck out as they passed through. Most were a jumble of topics from the previous day’s events, no coherent nature to them. You wanted to check your missed messages, just to see what they’d been saying, but you couldn’t find the strength to do so. You were angry, still, upset that they had no issue involving you in their mess and seemed to have no remorse over it. Even so, the urge to talk to them, to be with them, touched by them, was growing more urgent by the second.
Danny was right; it would be impossible to ignore them. That left you with two choices; play along, or let them play with you and get hurt in the process. You still weren’t certain that the first option would keep your feelings safe, but it was worth a try. Even if it didn’t, hopefully it would ensure neither would pull a stunt like such ever again. “I think I drank too much.” You stated, another giggle laced in your words. He glanced over at you from the drivers seat, giving you a grin.
“Guess that was my fault.” He chuckled.
“No,” you shook your head, smiling softly. “You helped, a lot.”
“I’m glad.” He replied, turning down the street your home was nestled on. “I’m always available for free therapy and alcohol.”
“I always appreciate it. I appreciate you.” You said, watching your driveway creep into sight.
“I appreciate you, bug.” He shot back without missing a beat. The pet name made your heart warm with affection. He really was your best friend, always your biggest comfort and favourite person. Nobody else compared to him, and you hoped that no matter how the situation played out, you’d still have him by your side. A small, selfish part of you wondered why you couldn’t just fall for him; he was funny, sweet, and genuine. Any time spent with him was worth more than the world, and he was beautiful, too. For some reason, it was written in the stars that he was to be your best friend, but that was more than okay. A life with Danny as your best friend was a certain promise of a good one. As much as it sucked dancing with the devil, or the Kiszka brothers, rather, it was meant to be. Even while you wished it away, hoped you could fall out of their grasp and into someone else’s, there was a part of you that loved being loved by them.
He parked your car in its usual spot, getting out to open your door for you. He walked you to the house, stepping inside and closing the door behind you. You both went to the living room, collapsing on the couch with exhaustion, as if you’d just ran a marathon. “You’re stuck here.” You laughed, finally realizing that he didn’t have his own car with him.
“I’ll call a cab, don’t worry.” He assured you, grabbing his phone to do just that. As he found himself busy telling the company the address, you reached over to the chair beside the couch, grabbing the acoustic guitar Jake had been playing earlier that morning. As he hung up the call, you plucked at the strings mindlessly, eventually switching to a chord progression that you had grown to know very well. “Dinner and a show?” He teased, still in awe that you had hidden your talent for so long.
“You know, it would be a lot of fun to come with you guys.” You thought aloud, dismissing his joke.
“You should.” He affirmed your idea. “Even if you just came for a part of the tour.” You let out a low hum, letting him know you heard him without having to respond. Instead of pushing you further, he leaned back into the couch and watched you as you played. Once you were certain he wasn’t going to speak again, you began to sing along to the music, to the song you loved so much. Jake had pegged it as your nickname, and at first it was endearing, but the more you listened to it, the more the words resonated with the ache settled deep in your chest.
“Rock on, Gold Dust Woman
Take your silver spoon, dig your grave” you looked to the fretboard, feeling the need to focus harder because of the alcohol swarming in your system.
“Heartless challenge, pick your path and I’ll pray
Wake up in the morning, see your sunrise loves to go down
Lousy lovers pick their prey but they never cry out loud.“
You sang the rest of the song, breathless by the time you were finished. Danny had a smile stuck on his lips, understanding that sooner or later you would agree to their offer. He could tell how badly you wanted to say yes, but your anxiety was holding you back. You were thinking of the offer, too, but something more pressing came to kind in light of the song choice. Or the mimosas. Or both, maybe. You weren’t sure. Either way, Jake Kiszka had inevitably made his appearance in your thoughts once more, but it wasn’t like he had left in the first place. His presence was always existing within your brain somewhere, even if it wasn’t at the forefront.
It was horrid, never being able to escape him, but it was phenomenal all at the same time. In the last twenty-for hours, he helped you feel more alive than you ever had before. His touch was still lingering in your skin, electrifying every nerve. The memory was fantastic, but nothing compared to the real thing. He was addicting; his company was no longer a want, but necessary for survival. You wondered if you would ever be able to live without it, quickly realizing that you never wanted to find out. Before, the thought of not having Jake around was terrifying, but after having him so intimately, the idea was debilitating, stealing the air from your lungs and crushing you under its weight.
“I could listen to you sing all day, but I gotta run.” Danny broke you from your thoughts. “Plans for tonight, can’t get out of them.”
“Cheating on me, Daniel?” You let out a tsk, showing your displeasure. He let out a laugh, shaking his head.
“Could never do that to you, darling.” He said, as dramatically as possible. You put the guitar to the side, standing up with him so you could give him a proper goodbye. You pulled him into a hug a bit tighter than usual, catching him off guard. It only took him a second to return the gesture, wrapping you in an aura of comfort.
“Thank you for everything. I feel a lot better.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” He assured you. “I love you, and I’ll talk to you soon?” You nodded, head still pressed to his chest.
“I love you.” You said, parting ways with him. “And yeah, I’ll update you.” You smiled, your secret plan solidified by your words.
“Give them hell.” He said, a tone of pleading hidden in the joke. With a wave, he disappeared around the corner and the front door sounded a moment later. The second the door shut, the emptiness of the home already started to seep in.
You gathered your thoughts, shaking away the haunting feeling of seclusion, and made your way to your bedroom. Once inside, you switched the power on to your record player, resuming whichever vinyl you had left from this morning. You let your eyes flutter closed at the hum of the song cutting through the silence. Another vibration from your phone caught your attention, suddenly remembering the messages you had intended to ignore. Now, with Danny’s words sounding in your mind, and your first chance at alone-time, you channeled a new courage to reply. Your fingers pulled the phone from your pocket, eyes immediately drifting over the screen. There were a few texts from your own band mates, and when they could come over to practice. You made a mental note to respond to them later. You moved on, seeing Sam’s name adorned on a missed call. You opted to focus on him later, your eyes seeking the contact you wanted to deal with first.
The notification bar from Jake had three messages. When you tapped them, you expected to be met with filthy words to fuel your desire to get back at him. Instead, the first was a small message of thanks for letting him stay the night prior, confessing his enjoyment. It was simple, not detailed, but enough to make your heart beat a little faster and a blush to make its way onto your cheeks. The second message was a well wish for your lunch date with Danny, saying he hoped you had a good time. The third was much different, more on par with what you had expected from him.
Jacob
Let me know when you want to share some more secrets, Gold Dust Woman
You felt a surge of emotion rush to your stomach, the words so simple, but the feeling so large. It was so easy to give in to him; he barely had to look your way and you were jumping at the chance to be noticed by him. It was crazy how fast the dynamic changed, how quickly he became so important to you. Without a second thought, you were already typing a response.
You
What kind of secrets would you like me to share, Jacob?
You hit send, not expecting a response considering you had waited so long to reply. Before you could even shut the screen off, the text bubble appeared on the screen, signifying his presence in the chat. A smirk pulled at the corner of your lips, happy to see that he was on your hook just as much as you were on his.
Jacob
I can think of a few
You
I’m sure you can. Care to elaborate?
His response was almost immediate, as if he’d pre-typed the words in anticipation of your question.
Jacob
Still wearing that red thong from earlier, or was that just to show off?
You enacted a plan as soon as the text was delivered and you processed what it said. You threw your phone on your bed, quickly shimmying out of your clothes and discarding them on the floor. The alcohol was still buzzing through your veins, your decisions heavily reliant on the false confidence the champagne bestowed upon you. You retrieved your phone, making a move to stand before the mirror on the opposite side of your room. You pulled up your camera, taking a few pictures from different angles, clearly showcasing the red fabric he was so curious about. The pictures that included the matching bra was just out of generosity.
You sifted through the pictures in your camera roll, picking the ones you thought were the best. You swiped back into his chat, reading his message over again. Instead of saying anything else, you sent the few photos you deemed acceptable. You went to the kitchen, unable to find a care to put your clothes back on, and turned your phone screen off. You scoured the fridge, finding a bottle of wine unopened and patiently awaiting your arrival. As you poured yourself a glass, you listened to the repetitive vibrations of incoming text messages. You looked to the clock on the wall, noting the time. Then, you took a seat in a chair and enjoyed the beverage you had fixed for yourself.
After a few moments, the texts ceased, leaving you to sit in silence and ponder your actions. You sipped away at the bitter liquid, refusing to give in to the temptation of answering him. When your glass was half empty, the vibrations resumed. This time, it was an incoming call. The ticking of the clock caught your attention, realizing you’d left him on edge for about fifteen minutes. You figured if you let it go much longer, he would show up at your front door. The thought itself wasn’t terrible, and you certainly wouldn’t mind the company, but you decided you wouldn’t push him that far. His incoming call ended, but it wasn’t long before another one sounded. With a smile on your lips, you picked up your phone and accepted his attempt to reach you.
“Hi,” you said, cheerily, as if you had no idea he had been blowing up your phone. “What’s up?”
“Ignoring me, sweetheart?” His voice was low, no angry tone or hint of annoyance. The soft inquiry sent a rush of arousal through you, just knowing that you had bothered him so badly was enough to send you spiralling.
“Why would I do that?” You asked, tipsiness laced in your voice. He picked up on it almost immediately, thinking your new-found confidence was a result of the alcohol. In truth, he wasn’t completely wrong. Although you and Danny had devised the plan, the execution was heavily reliant on intoxication. For some reason, sobriety did not help your case with either brother. Their charm and wit held you in a chokehold, any time you had the courage to retaliate, they made another move to make you submit. Despite your lack of control, it was still quite enjoyable. Now that tables had turned, that he was the one sitting and thinking about you and slowly driving himself to insanity, you had to admit that it was enjoyable, too. Maybe even more so, if you had to choose.
“Don’t be a tease, angel.” He hummed, the sound of his voice through the phone sending a shiver through you. You thought you might give in, throw the act away and beg for him to come over, but you bit your tongue and powered through.
“I thought that’s what you wanted to see, baby.” You played innocent, taking another sip of wine to keep the spirits high. Your head was buzzing, swimming with many thoughts. Most were filthy, focused mainly on how badly you wished he was in front of you, rather than on the phone. It was ridiculous how fast he consumed your entire being. Thoughts of his hands, his tongue, and how good they felt when they were on you. You missed him, even if you opted not to say it aloud. It had only been a few hours, but it was much too long for your liking. “Was that what you wanted, Jacob?”
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath, bothered by your use of the pet name, bothered by the sultry tone you were speaking in. A smirk formed on the corner of your lips, cocky enough to know that you had power over him, too. “Yeah, it was, baby.” He conceded, unwilling to argue the point. “You still didn’t answer my question.” He stated, not willing to let you off the hook so easily.
“What was your question?” You asked, one last attempt to get under his skin. He let in a long breath, trying his best to stay calm while you made it a point to piss him off.
“Why were you ignoring me, angel?” He was heavy on the terms of endearment, leaving you unsure if it was because they were genuine, or if he was using them to coerce an answer from you.
“Wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, feeling no need to lie to him. “Did it work?”
“Mhm,” he mumbled his response wordlessly. Even without an explicit affirmation, you could tell it did just by his tone change. He had expected the answer, but it didn’t seem to make him feel any better. “Didn’t know you were such a brat.” He noted.
“Maybe you just bring out the worst in me.” You snipped back almost immediately. He let out a chuckle, but it wasn’t because he thought your words were humorous. It radiated a tone of shock, as if he was trying to tell you that you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.
“Careful, sweetheart.” He warned. “Don’t make me come over there and fuck that attitude out of you.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You teased. He could hear the smile on your lips through your words, making it difficult for him to keep up with the act. He found your joy infectious, and the teasing fun, in a greater sense than just sexual. He enjoyed all conversations shared with you, even if there was no sexual gratification. He just loved being around you.
“I would, but I don’t think you would.” He said, simple enough to get the point across, but powerful enough to worsen the growing ache between your legs.
“Maybe you’re the sadist.” You theorized, throwing his own idea back in his face. If only he knew how badly you lived to please him, his previous accusations of sadism would be laughable.
“You’ll have to wait and see. I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” His voice was soothing, even if the topic was filthy. You could listen to him speak all night and never get bored. He was devastatingly perfect, and he made it easier to fall for him every time he opened his mouth. Without thought, you opened your mouth to speak, letting the wine take control of the conversation.
“I miss you.” The statement was quiet, but impactful. In reality, the three words were barely loud enough to catch a normal listeners attention, but the sound was deafening, to him. When you were met with silence, a fizzle of regret formed in your chest, wondering if you took it too far. You would take it back, pretend you never said it or bury it so deep down that could never surface again, just to ensure he wouldn’t hang up the phone; the last thing you wanted was to scare him away.
Although drunk, your feelings were true. You did miss him: you wanted to stay wrapped up in him forever, whether it be just with basic comfort or with sexual nature. You didn’t care, as long as he was with you. In three days, his presence had not only caught your attention, but made home within the walls of your house. Feelings for him were blossoming from every angle, immersing you within them and tying you down with their roots. It only took three days for Jake to make you a fool for him, three days to produce a feeling that rivalled your feelings for Sam. If you thought you were in too deep before, you were drowning, now.
That’s the funny thing about love; it cares little about who it’s next victim is, only about the fatalities it leaves in its wake.
Despite equal consent to the game, fatality was most definitely the prize. By choosing to be ignorant to risk, all three of you willingly sealed your own fate. No amount of repent could save you from the consequences. Deep down, you were well aware of that fact, but the sin was so pleasurable that it no longer mattered.
“I miss you, Gold Dust Woman.” The words only solidified your desire to ignore the risk. It was the most beautiful statement you had ever heard, and it was laced with sincerity. Imbedded with so much emotion that it made your head spin, wondering if it was even possible for someone to speak with such unwavering clarity. As if he, too, realized the extent of his vulnerability, he quickly spoke to cover it. “I miss being inside you, more.” The sweet tone quickly turned into one of desire, but both of you knew it was a lie. He desperately missed the mornings activities, his arms wrapped around your waist with a kiss placed to your neck while the smell of coffee lingered in the air. Smiling and laughing, singing along and poorly dancing to the hum of the record player. Taking turns playing guitar for each other, him dedicating every song to you but leaving it unspoken. He missed the moments of silence, more comfortable than any other, where he could hear your breathing steady while your eyes fluttered closed, enticed by the idea of falling back into a slumber. He missed the fleeting feeling of you being his, and his alone. Even if the idea wasn’t wholly truthful, he liked to pretend it was.
And in a way, you were. Every part of you belonged to him in some sense, even if other forces were trying to pull you away. But neither of you would ever speak those thoughts aloud, scared of the same things, even if the ones you focused on were not the biggest threats. Instead, you played along, sad that he felt the need to discredit such a genuine confession, but relieved that you didn’t have to explain your own. You both fell in step with the devil once again, ignoring the ache in your hearts and covering it with animalistic attraction and half-truths. If only you could both hear how loud he was laughing, pleased that you carried on just how the devil intends.
“You know there’s always a place for you between my legs, baby.” You whispered, the low tone shaking him to his core, settling in his bones and breaking them under the weight of the statement. It was unspoken that the confessions of emotion would be ignored, as always. It was just the way things were. You could practically hear his need for you through the phone, even if he didn’t say anything.
“Is that what you want?” He posed the question in a derogatory manner, as if he was trying to make you to feel shameful for wanting him so badly. You could see through it, knowing that he just wanted to hear you admit your desperation for him. “You want me, baby?”
“Mhm,” You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. As you realized that, you also realized how badly you wished you could see him. Before responding any further, you clicked the FaceTime icon on his contact. Within seconds, he accepted. The screen lit up with his face, immediately giving you a sense of relief. You took in the sight, noting he was sitting in his living room. You had only been to his apartment a handful of times, but you knew it well enough to recognize it. “Hi,” you smiled, almost forgetting the nature of the conversation.
“Hi, beautiful.” He disregarded the vulgarity for a moment, too, just so he could admire you. The blush that spread across your cheeks caused a smile to break out on his lips, too. He noted the wine glass in the frame before his eyes inevitably landed on your attire, the adoration in his eyes quickly fading into lust. The distant look let you know that he was already imagining what was beneath the flimsy red fabric. Remembering what lie beneath. As much as his expression enticed you, you couldn’t let him get away with it without making a comment.
“Eyes up here, Jacob.” You scolded, catching his attention again.
“Expect me not to stare when you look like that?” He asked, a smile still lingering on his lips. “Sadist.” He smirked, the word bouncing between you both, accompanied by pointed fingers and accusatory tones. Perhaps both of you were the sadists by continuing your entanglement without caution or worry about the future.
“I know how much you love the red, but I think you’ll love what’s underneath it, more.” You said, eyes never leaving his face. You could see the muscle in his jaw tense at the thought, proving you were correct.
“I think red is your colour, sweetheart.” He noted, disregarding your words. As bad as he wanted you to remove the clothing, he’d be caught dead before admitting you were right. “Sit back, baby. Let me see the rest of you.” The order was firm, making sure you knew that it was not a request. You propped your phone against the wine bottle, obeying the instructions and leaning back in your chair, allowing him a better view. He let out a sigh, content with the sight of your mostly exposed upper body.
“Like this?” You asked, bringing your hand to your chest and gently running your fingers over the edge of the cup on your bra, gently pulling it down in the process. It was enough to tease him, but not enough to show him what he was hoping to see. You let your finger linger for a second before releasing the hold. The fabric drifted back to its original position and you let your fingers trail down your bare torso.
“Just like that.” He affirmed, visibly bothered by the show you were putting on. “Be a good girl and take that off for me.” His plea was covered with dominance in attempt to hide his neediness, but it wasn’t working. Part of you wanted to give into the request; with the way he was looking at you, it was hard to want to deny him of anything. But, that little devil in your head was as angry as ever, now fuelled by the knowledge Danny had given you.
“Come over and take it off yourself.” You replied, trying to remain unbothered by his pet names. His eyes flashed with discontent, fed up with your continuous disobedience.
“You want me to come over?” He asked, playing into whatever game you were trying to start with him. You gave a nod, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to withstand the temptation for much longer. “You need someone to take care of that ache between your legs? To make you feel so good that you can’t remember your own name?” His tone was soft, sympathetic almost, but the flame ablaze behind his pupil and the slight tension in his jaw led you to believe he was being quite misleading.
“Yes, please.” You pleaded, ignoring your worry about his honesty. The arousal pooling between your legs was beginning to feel uncomfortable, like a constant, dull pain that would eventually drive you crazy. Something about Jake always led you to believe that life without him would lead you to the brink of insanity. The constant talk of want, or desire was quite minimal compared to how you truly felt about him. Necessity was closer to correct, depending on his touch more than your own heartbeat to keep you alive.
“You need someone to take care of that pretty little cunt,” he deducted, taking in a long breath at the sound of his own words. He was just as worked up as you, debating throwing his plan in the garbage and getting in his car that instant. “And you know I’m the only one who knows how to do it right.” He finished, finding the strength to stay seated and continue his merciless taunts.
“Please come over, baby. I need you so bad.” The words slipped out easier than any you had said before, the strength you had to endure his words was breaking apart every time he opened his mouth.
“I know, angel.” He hummed, soothing you for just a moment. You thought he was going to give in, to tell you he would be there in a minute, but when he spoke again, you wish you’d never started the battle in the first place. “I want to help you out, but you haven’t been very good for me. Being a tease doesn’t get you what you want, baby. You know that.”
“Jake, please. I’m sorry.” You begged, that feeling of familiar dread filling your stomach. “I’ll be good for you, I promise.”
“If I give you what you want, you won’t learn anything.” The irritation that grew from the smirk he was wearing was unbearable. You couldn’t genuinely believe that after the entire call, he would have the nerve to deny either of you the pleasure of spending another night together. “Go take care of yourself, sweetheart. Just think of me when you do.” Your teeth were clenched, frustrated that your efforts seemed to have no effect on him.
“Just come over, baby.” You tried once more, but his mind was made up.
“If you do what I say and behave, I might come and see you later.” So that was his plan; like always, he was willing to give in, but he felt the need to ensure you would suffer, first. “Another picture might help, too.” He sent a wink your way, so subtle that you almost missed it. Before you had a chance to respond, he had ended the call and you were met with the disappointing sight of your screensaver, wishing you had one more minute to admire the sight of his face.
You had two options: deal with the issue yourself, wait it out and hope he would feel generous enough to pay you a visit after a while, or call a cab and go to him, first. As much as the second option was tempting, you knew if you did so, it would only fuel his ego even further. He was well aware of the power he held over you, and running to him would only solidify the idea in his mind. Waiting to see if he would come over might do the same, but at least you would have the upper hand. By the time he showed up, your overwhelming need for him would have time to simmer. Then, you could give him a taste of his own medicine.
So you sat, sipping away at your wine, thinking that it wouldn’t be too difficult to wait it out. The closer the bottle got to empty, the more confident you felt about the situation. If he wanted to be an asshole, you could be, too. His request for more pictures would go unanswered, and he would have to give in. Even in your drunken state, you were aware of the power you had over him, too. Confidence did not equal satisfaction, though. You nursed the last of your wine until he showed up, or until you found something better to do, quickly realizing that time would not satisfy your craving for him. With every minute that passed, you hoped the feeling would fizzle away, but the more you ignored it, the worse it seemed to get.
Eventually, as you drained the last few drops of your glass for the second time (you had to make sure it was completely empty, of course), you heard a knock sound at the front door. A jolt of energy surged through you, realizing you had won the battle without putting any effort in at all. You stood, leaving the empty bottle on the table for decoration, and wasted no time following the sound of the knock. When you reached the front door, you ran your hand through your hair, straightening yourself out to look the best you could for him. Before opening the door, you ever so slightly peeked through the blinds.
In your drunken state, it seemed blatantly obvious that it was Jake standing outside. The tuft of brown hair that caught your eye was so familiar, immediately showering you with relief. But, if you looked for a moment longer, you might have clued in that opening the door in your current attire was a mistake. Had sobriety been in the question, you would have noticed the distinctive difference, how the body was taller, a bit more slender than the boy you were looking for. Maybe, it was possible you did notice, but we’re too blinded by excitement to cognitively understand that Jake was not the one knocking on your door. You wished to see him so badly that you overlooked any possibility of it not being him standing there.
When the door creaked open, you had a smirk on your lips, ready to throw his bluff back in his face. Instead of grasping the feeling of satisfaction for Jake’s failure, dread bled into every nerve in your body. It took a moment for both of you to understand exactly what scene you had found yourself in, but when you came back from the shock, you couldn’t even find the right words to express how you were feeling. Your limbs were frozen, unable to shut the door again and your heart was stuck in your throat. Sam’s wide eyes and parted lips showcased his matching emotions, also void of a proper response. Even in his complete surprise, he couldn’t help but feel his gaze drifting over every exposed part of you that was offered. If you wanted to be dramatic, you could even go as far as to say he was drooling at the sight of you.
After a moment of staring, you took a step to the side, covering as much of you as possible behind the solid door. “Do you greet everyone like that, or am I interrupting something?” He said, clearing his throat, joking to subtly to pass off his blatant gawking.
“Um, no… and no, I guess.” You squeaked, cheeks red enough to match the fabric that was barely concealing you.
“Expecting someone else?” The corner of his lip upturned into a smirk, finding humour in the awkward moment. He knew you were likely expecting his brother, but his cockiness allowed him to use the knowledge to his advantage.
“No,” you said after a long bout of silence, trying to sound confident. The alcohol was sending the devil in your head into a drunken rampage. Your plan to play into their game was bouncing around within your skull, urging you to take the embarrassing greeting and make it into something better. If Jake wasn’t willing to give you what you needed, you were sure that Sam would have no problem helping you out. If they wanted to involve you in their mess, you should have no issue using it for your own benefit. You were both playing with fire, but the heat was gradual; welcoming at first, and only burning you after the fact, once you were too far in to turn around.
“So I showed up at the perfect time, then?” Your anxiety washed away, even finding yourself able to produce a genuine smile at his ridiculously childish response. Your eyes drifted over his face, taking in the details of his expression. He had recovered from his nervous state, too, but his eyes were still glistening with appreciation at the beauty of you before him. You could have shut the door, turned him away with an apology and let the memory die, but his beauty was captivating, and you were drawn in by the way he was watching you. If you had found yourself in the situation with a lower blood-alcohol content, the whole thing would have been ridiculous and terribly wrong. Maybe it was the wine, or the brunch conversations that lead you to the conclusion in which you were headed towards. It didn’t matter, anyway, because you had already made up your mind. You didn’t want to turn him away; you were eager to let him inside.
“I think so.” You agreed, playing into him.
“Red’s your colour, princess.” He noted, trying to catch another glimpse of what you were trying to hide from him without being too obvious. Just another blatant show that Sam and Jake were in fact brothers, and brothers indeed. Too alike for their own good, and too foolish to see the problem. “You should wear it more often.” His voice was quiet, much different than his usual chipper tone that sounded through an entire room. You had never heard him speak in such a way, except for the small moment shared in your kitchen. It was enticing, perfectly alluring and dangerously gratifying.
“You should come in,” you stated, not as a request, but a fact. He watched you for a moment, attempting to convince himself that you were serious and not just pulling his leg. When you kept your composure, no hint of anything other than a genuine nature, he made a move towards you. Once he was inside, you closed the door behind him with little thought.
Perhaps too much carelessness for such a grave decision that would ultimately seal your fate.
Lousy lovers pick their prey
but they never cry out loud
TAGLIST: @itsdannysworld
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moonsgemini · 2 years ago
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seeking arrangements- iii
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summary: Jealousy is an ugly color on everyone except for Thomas. As Lola and Rafe spend more time together the more they feel like it’s becoming too real, and the boat rides and cocktail parties don’t help.
warnings: escort!rafe x oc, fem reader, shitty family, kissing, alcohol, bad descriptions of a yacht, fluff, mentions of cheating
wc: 4.7k
an: ahhhh we’re getting into the more fun stuff, I hope you all are enjoying <3 there’s about 3 more parts left if I’ve planned correctly. Honestly this part was hard for me to write, but I did it. Also I don’t know shit about boats okay so don’t come for me.
series masterlist - previous part
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“Uh Rafe?” Lola called from the bathroom. She was finishing getting ready for their boat day.
“Yeah?” He called from the room as he placed his hat on his head.
“Can you help tie my bikini please?” She asked with slightly pink cheeks.
They had spent the night together, Lola insisting on creating a pillow wall. But when they woke up the pillow wall was gone and Lola’s legs were tangled with Rafe’s. She had woken up before him so she quickly untwisted herself from him.
He walked into the bathroom and she had her back to him. The strings of the floral bikini hanging behind her as she held the front up. He cleared his throat and began tying the strings. His fingers brushing against her soft skin making them burn.
“All done.”
“Thankyou,” She said softly turning around to face him. She lifted the straps of her overalls to clip them to the front.
“You ready for today?” Rafe asked her as he leaned against the sink.
She shrugged, “I guess so. Being trapped on a boat in the middle of the ocean with all these people that think I’m a loser? so ready.”
“I don’t think you’re a loser, and I’ll make sure they know you’re not a loser.” He smiled.
“Thanks Rafe, are you ready to go?” She asked.
“Mhmm I even packed the bag like you asked,” He walked into the room motioning to the trader joes bag she had instructed him to fill with sunscreen her sunglasses and other essentials.
She laughed, “What a good listener, so we’re meeting everyone at the dock. Is it okay if Tabitha rides with us?”
“Yeah of course. I think she might also be the one person I like here.”
Lola laughed and grabbed the bag before walking out the door. Rafe couldn’t help but think she looked so cute in her overalls. He had to admit he was looking forward to making Thomas jealous.
“Tabi, are you ready?” Lola called as they walked down the hall.
Tabitha opened the door to her room all dressed and ready to go, “Of course I’ve just been waiting for you two love birds. I know the morning is the most sensual time of day so I didn’t want to rush you,” she winked.
Rafe chuckled following the women. Lola rolled her eyes and blushed, “Please we’re at my parents house.”
“So? That’s never stopped anyone.” She laughed. They walked out to Rafe’s car where he placed their bags in the trunk. He placed his sunglasses over his eyes as he got into the car.
“Very nice car Rafe,” Tabitha commented from the back seat, “So what do you do?” Lola couldn’t help but feel nervous now. Last night when they went back out withe everyone they were all a bit tipsy so no one gave him the third degree. She had also excused them from the night early, she had felt too overwhelmed with everyone and needed time to decompress. So when her and Rafe went back to the room they just watched Pitch Perfect together.
“Thanks, I have a real estate developing company in North Carolina.” He said as he backed out of the drive way. Lola giving him directions towards the dock.
“Wow that’s fancy. But you live in New York? How did you guys meet?” She asked leaning forward to look between them.
“Yeah I go back and forth a lot. It’s a family company,” He looked over at Lola, “we met at a bar in Manhattan. I saw Lola and couldn’t leave without talking to her, she caught my eye from across the room.” He smiled thinking of a memory that didn’t exist. At least that’s what Lola thought but he was thinking of the first time he met her. She looked like a lost puppy and he couldn’t help the attraction he felt towards her then. If she was just a girl at a bar he definitely would have gone up to her.
“You’re love story is so cute, Lola you have to tell me more later. In private,” she winked at her cousin.
“Tabi you’re insnae,” Lola laughed.
-
Rafe had his arm wrapped around Lola as they sat on the boat, Harry drove the boat out into the ocean more looking for a good place to anchor. Ever since they had met up with everyone Thomas hadn’t stopped eyeing Lola and Rafe. He watched as Rafe held Lola’s hand helping her onto the boat. Even now whenever he glanced at them it was with a hateful stare. Lola leaned into Rafe, she felt relaxed.
The sun felt good on her skin she closed her eyes resting her head on his shoulder, it was the perfect day. That was until her sister plopped down next to them, reminding her that it wasn’t just her and Rafe here.
“You guys have to tell me everything,” Penny exclaimed facing the couple, “How’d you meet? How long have you been dating?” Rafe placed his hand in between Lola’s shoulder and neck giving her a comforting squeeze.
“We met at a bar, Lucy’s. Rafe came up to me and we just hit it off. We went on a few dates and well here we are. We’ve been seeing each other for almost uh five months now?” Lola said almost like she was asking.
“Mhmm yeah babe five months,” Rafe iterated.
“How come you’ve kept him away from us sis?” Penny asked, almost in a condescending way.
Lola shrugged, “I guess I just wanted him all to myself.”
“I don’t blame you,” Penny glanced at Rafe with a mischievous look in her eyes to which he just grabbed Lola’s thigh with his other hand and placed her legs over his.
“Who wants drinks!” Harry shouted as he finally stopped the boat.
“Me!” Penny yelled and ran towards the coolers to hand them out. Rafe took a beer and Lola settled for a seltzer.
“Are you good?” Rafe asked her.
“Yeah, are you?”
“Of course, I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” He smiled leaning closer, “Also he’s been glaring at us since we got here.”
Lola smirked, “Good. I hope he feels even just slightly as bad as he made me feel when I caught him.”
“Can I do something?” Rafe asked, his hand on her shoulder rubbing soothing circles.
“What?”
“Can I kiss you?” He looked down at her lips that looked so inviting, “To make it look real of course.”
Lola felt her whole body tingle at his question. Rafe was so different from Thomas, which was the last guy that she was with, and he made her feel things in the last 48 hours that Thomas never could in the two years they were together. She wanted him to kiss her whenever he pleased. Lola had to remind herself that this wasn’t real, but for now she would enjoy it. She would enjoy the feeling of being wanted even if she thought it was all an act.
“Yes please,” she murmured. Rafe could have died then and there just at her response.
He grabbed her chin gently and brought her face closer to his. Their lips brushing against each other with hesitancy at first but then Rafe leaned forward more pressing his lips firmly against hers. They were soft and she tasted like cherry’s. Her sticky lipgloss getting all over his mouth but he couldn’t care less. The way he held her made her want to melt. His lips were so soft and full, it felt so natural with him the way their lips moved against each other.
“Ugh get a room you two!” Penny shouted throwing a bag of chips at the couple. They pulled a part remembering where they were. Lola rolled her eyes and threw the bag back, Penny just laughed.
Harry walked over and stood in front of the pair, “Dude let me give you a tour of the boat,” he said to Rafe.
“Uh sure man,” He turned to Lola, “I’ll be back baby.”
The two guys walked towards the inside where the wheel was, the other guys following suit. When they were gone all the girls came flocking over to Lola.
Tabitha sat next to her, “Tell us babe how is he in bed? I can’t believe he’s so sexy.”
Lola blushed, “Tabi! You guys are insane.”
“Come on Lola, you have like the hottest boyfriend you need to tell us everything,” Riley the other bridesmaid said.
Lola knew she was going to have to make up stuff because they were like vultures who needed to be fed, “It’s really good. He’s really good. He knows what to do, like I don’t have to tell him what I need or like he just knows. And he makes me feel so comfortable.”
“God that sounds like a dream,” Olivia sighed, “I bet you don’t even have to ask him to go down on you?”
Lola shook her head, “Never. It’s his favorite thing to do.” At this point she was just saying things to impress them, but she had a feeling that if she did have a chance to sleep with him he would be exactly how she described.
“And he makes you finish?” Tabitha asked almost on the edge of her seat.
“Always more than once,” She smirked.
Tabitha sat back dramatically, “You have the perfect man. I’m jealous.”
“Thomas is sooo jealous. He’s been asking me so many questions since last night,” Penny smirked. At least Lola’s plan was working.
Riley rolled her eyes, “Good, he cheated on you right? So he has no right to be jealous.”
“Exactly. But the revenge must feel good huh?” Tabitha asked.
Lola shrugged, “I guess so. I haven’t paid much attention to him. Especially not when I have Rafe with me,” she wasn’t fully lying. She did forget that he existed for a second until Rafe brought it up.
“Does Rafe have any hot friends you guys can introduce me to?” Tabitha said sighing.
Lola laughed, “Probably. I haven’t met many of his friends.”
-
In the cockpit where all the guys had congregated they were also giving Rafe the third degree. Not about Lola but just about himself since they didn’t know him.
“So Rafe where you from?” Harry asked as they all sat around in different areas of the cockpit. Rafe knew that he was about to be grilled by the games, and he was more than happy to answer their questions. Especially Thomas’.
“North Carolina, the outer banks,” He took a sip of his beer.
He nodded his head, “What are you doing in New York?”
“I wanted to get away from home and from here I’m still able to run the business,” He shrugged.
“Dude so you’re like rich?” Mateo said with a smirk.
Rafe laughed, “Uh not having a house and a yacht in the Hampton’s rich.”
Thomas cleared his throat, “So what’s up with you and Lola?” He asked completely changing the subject.
Rafe’s brows furrowed, “What do you mean?”
“Well like are you guys serious?” Thomas rolled his eyes as if it was an obvious question.
“I guess we are, I mean we’ve been seeing each other for a few months now. She’s great, I really like her so I hope it’s something serious,” The words were so easy for him to say because part of him wished they were true.
“She seems happy with you man. Every time Lola’s come around us she always seemed so like depressed and super fidgety. She seems relaxed. So whatever you’re doing dude keep doing it,” Harry laughed. He cared about Lola, she was about to be his sister in law. But he cared about her like a sister and when Thomas cheated on her he was angry but not angry enough to drop him.
Thomas scoffed, “Please dude she seems miserable. I bet she hasn’t even put out yet. It took like weeks for her to even touch my dick. You know we dated right?”
Rafe stood up straighter, “She did mention there’d be some prick who cheated on her here, just didn’t think she went low enough to date you. Also I respect what Lola wants to do, I don’t force her to touch my dick like a horny teenager.”
“Okay guys,” Mateo began to speak before he was interrupted by Thomas.
“She just wasn’t good in bed, I had urges. What am I supposed to do just be unsatisfied.”
Rafe laughed bitterly, “That’s funny because I remember her telling me that you were the worst and smallest dick she’s ever had,” he took a step closer to the shorter man, “she doesn’t even remember her own name when I’m fucking her brains out. I bet you couldn’t ever make her finish huh? Now never talk about my girlfriend that way again or we’ll actually have problems. If you’ll excuse me I’m gonna go check on my girlfriend.” Rafe walked out not wanting to be a part of the sausage fest anymore.
As he walked back out onto the deck he saw Lola laying out on the chairs, she had taken her overalls off to soak up the sun. He smiled to himself as he watched her nod her head along to the music. The other girls were also laying around getting a tan. He stood over her creating a shadow.
She opened her eyes squinting at his tall figure, “Hey, everything good?”
He nodded, “Perfect.” He couldn’t help his wandering eyes as they took her in. The bikini she picked looked good against her skin and it left little to the imagination. He was so attracted to her he couldn’t deny it anymore, especially now looking at her half naked he just wanted to touch her.
“Wanna go for a swim? I’ve been waiting for you,” She smiled taking the last sip of her second drink now.
“That sounds great actually it’s hot as fuck,” He set his drink down on the floor to take his shirt off. He threw it onto the end of the chair along with his sunglasses. Lola just about melted then and there. She could tell he definitely worked out, his arms were so muscular she wanted nothing more than to be tossed around by him. This is definitely the drinks talking, she thought.
Rafe held his hand out to her and she took it gladly. She felt like he was too good at this boyfriend act, it was making her feel things she shouldn’t. Especially for someone she paid to pretend to like her. They walked to the edge of the boat hand in hand.
“Ready?” He asked with a smirk. She nodded her head mimicking his smirk. They jumped into the ocean hand in hand. The cool water feeling good against her skin after being in the sun.
Once they surfaced she started laughing, “God I haven’t had this much fun here in so long.”
Rafe brushed his wet hair back swimming towards her, “Good. You deserve to have fun.”
“So uh how was it with Thomas?” She asked a bit hesitant.
Rafe shrugged, “He’s a fucking prick that’s forsure. Nothing I can’t handle tho,” he smirked.
“We’re coming!” Tabitha yelled from the boat as they began also jumping into the ocean. Lola laughed and swam closer to Rafe wrapping her arms around his neck. He grabbed the backs of her thighs to wrap her legs around his waist. Lola’s skin felt like it was on fire despite being in the water.
“God this feels so good!” Tabitha exclaimed as she resurfaced joining the couple.
Olivia smiled swimming up to the group, “Remember that summer we got stranded out here because we ran out of gas and went skinny dipping.”
“Oh god,” Lola mumbled, “We were like 20 and then when the coast guard showed up we were all naked in the ocean.”
Rafe laughed, “There’s still a lot I don’t know about you huh?”
“Oh so much, she used to be a bit of a firecracker,” Tabitha said.
-
After a few more dives into the ocean and a few more drinks Lola and Rafe were back on the chair soaking up the sun before they had to head back and get ready for the late engagement party. Rafe was sitting in the chair and Lola was sitting in between his legs, her back resting against his chest. It was to make sure they looked like a real couple. It was all part of the plan, at least that’s what they said. Rafe may have been enjoying the feeling of her skin on his a little too much. Lola may have been enjoying the way Rafe’s arm wrapped around her chest and played with her hair a little too much.
She felt so comfortable around him. The voice in the back of her head telling her this was all going to end in a few days was getting quieter to let her enjoy these moments she had with him. Soon she’d be alone again, just her and Sailor in her apartment and Rafe would be a fond memory. The thought alone made her squeeze his thigh gently to remind herself she’s there now with him and to enjoy it.
Thomas had been glaring at them the whole afternoon. It made her happy to know he was bothered by them. The group had just been sitting around and exchanging stories, a few games on uno had been played as well. Lola felt so content, it was the first time in a few years she liked being with this group of people. She felt like herself again.
“Babe our song!” Tabitha exclaimed as everywhere by fleetwood mac came on the speakers.
Lola’s eyes lit up. She turned to Rafe, “On spring break a few years ago we were in Greece and this song came on at the club and it was the best night ever!”
She got up and joined Tabitha as they started dancing to the song. Singing along to the words, Rafe watched with curious eyes. A grin spreading across his lips. The other girls getting up and joining them as they started singing to the chorus. The drinks she had that day had definitely made Lola a lot bolder than she’d usually be. As Lola danced with Tabitha she tilted her head back laughing. Rafe took a mental picture wanting to remember her like that forever. He had a feeling in his gut that Lola couldn’t just be a temporary fixture in his life. Not after the way she’s made him feel.
She ran towards Rafe grabbing his hands and pulling him up to dance with her. He gladly obliged, the other guys joining as well. When she sang the lyrics to Rafe as if she truly meant them, and she kind of did. She wanted to be with him everywhere. As they danced together the world around them faded and it was just them to, he spun her around and she giggled furiously. The song ended and they all cheered and clapped.
“You guys are the best bridal party a girl could have!” Penny exclaimed with teary eyes, she definitely had too much to drink.
Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulder and he kissed her cheek, “I think it’s time we head back.”
They headed back to the benches to be safer. Lola rested against Rafe’s chest as his arm wrapped around her. She felt a bold so she leaned up and kissed his cheek.
“You’re the best Rafey,” She smiled at him.
Rafe smiled, he couldn’t help himself. The nickname she had given him made his chest turn a light shade of pink. He cupped her face and brought her up for a kiss. It felt just as good as the first one. Lola sighed as they moved against each other, only pulling away because she remembered there were other people around. She would kiss him all day if she could.
-
Once they got back to the house they had taken and showers and began getting ready for the cocktail party. The bride and groom decided to have a late engagement party so that everyone could attend and it’d add to the wedding week festivities. Lola felt like she was on cloud nine and it was all because of the man laying on her bed scrolling on his phone.
“Rafe, can I ask you something?” She asked from the bathroom as she applied her makeup.
“What’s up?”
“Can you tell me more about yourself?” She asked with a hopeful voice. She really wanted to know more about him.
Rafe smiled to himself and got up to walk into the bathroom. She watched as he put the toilet seat lid down and sat down watching her do her eyebrows, “What do you want to know?”
“Anything,” She shrugged.
“Well I’ve told you the truth. I have two sisters, I’m from North Carolina, and that developing company is actually my other job.”
She nodded her hair, “What about your parents? Your childhood?”
He looked away finding the towel rack more interesting, “Uh my mom she died when I was 10. My dad’s very much a hard ass. We don’t really have a relationship other than a business one. In my late teens I didn’t really have a relationship with my sisters. Especially Sarah, she’s a few years younger than me.”
Lola looked over at him with curiosity, “Why’s that?”
“I did a lot of um dumb stuff,” he cleared his throat, “I got mixed up with the wrong people and made terrible choices. I treated the people around me like shit. But I cleaned up my act after my freshman year of college. I got sober and I started going to therapy.”
“Wow Rafe, that’s really good. You should be proud of yourself.” She said looking over at him with a warm smile.
He smiled back, “Yeah I’ve come a long way. I’ve burned some bridges that I can’t fix but I don’t dwell on it anymore. I just focus on what I have now. Sarah and I are close now. Same with my other sister Wheezie. I go back home every couple of weeks to see them and have meetings with my dad.” He didn’t really know why he was telling her this. Rafe felt like he could actually open up to her and feel vulnerable. He’s never told anyone this much before, let alone someone that was supposed to be a client.
“Why do you still this other job on the side?” She asked a bit hesitant.
He thought for a second, why did he do this? “I guess I like helping people not feel alone like I felt for a long time. Even if it’s just for one night for a stupid christmas party or something like that. I guess I like feeling needed.”
Lola smiled, “You’re too good to be true. You’re very selfless Rafe. That’s a hard quality to find, especially in a guy.”
He chuckled, “I’m not perfect, I just hide my flaws better. But I’m working on it.”
“And that’s what counts.”
There was a moment of silence as Lola applied blush before she paused not looking over at him, “Rafe, can we still be friends after this?” She asked softly. Afraid if she used her real voice she’d be too loud and scare him away. Lola didn’t want to lose Rafe even if it meant just having him as a friend.
His heart was beating loudly in his chest. She was so extraordinary to him, how could she want to be friends with him after he just told her that he used to be a wreck. Rafe felt like a ticking time bomb, at any minute he could become the old Rafe again. But when he was with her it felt like that Rafe was completely gone, “Of course sweetheart.” That nickname he first called her made her insides stir with something sickly sweet.
-
They had arrived at the restaurant that the party was being held at, already filled with friends and family. Rafe had been introduced to a a handful of people now. He couldn’t focus on anything other than Lola in the dress she was wearing. It was tight in all the right places, he felt like she outshined everyone in the room. Her makeup looked flawless and her hair just as perfect. He wanted to ruin it all, kiss her until her makeup was all over the place and her lips were swollen. Run his hands through her hair messing up the perfect strands.
He was leaning against the bar drinking his vodka soda as Lola talked amongst her mom and some of her mom’s friends. He watched making sure she didn’t need him to come in and save her from painful conversation. Tabitha came up and ordered herself a drink, before turning to him. She watched him watch her cousin with that look in his eyes.
“She’s been through a lot,” She said speaking up, “She’s not the same Lola that I used to know.”
Rafe looked over at her, “How so?”
“The last few months she was with Thomas she started changing. It was partly because he had become distant but it was also because her mom and her had a huge fight about her mom’s drinking.” She scoffed as she looked towards her aunt, “Clearly nothing has changed. But it was because her mom got hammered at Christmas and she made out with Thomas who was also hammered. They probably would have had sex if she hadn’t walked in on them.” Tabitha rolled her eyes.
“What the fuck? She never told me that.” Rafe said with furrowed brows, he wasn’t upset at Lola but upset at how everyone just walked all over her.
“It’s not something she talked about. She doesn’t come around as much anymore since then because after that incident she started getting suspicious but brushed it off. Then clearly she gets proven wrong when she walks in on him again. I hate that little fucker,” Tabitha seethed, “Lola shut down. She already didn’t have many friends and she lost the ones she did have. She kept to herself and her light dimmed. I haven’t seen her so carefree and full of life like this is so long. You’re really good for her.” She put a hand on his arm and smiled genuinely at him.
Rafe gave her a lopsided grin, “I’m trying my best for her. She deserves to be happy, I think she’s helping me more than I’m helping her though.”
“She has that effect on people. She has a good heart, maybe too good sometimes.”
He looked over at her just as Lola looked at him with a tight lipped smile and pleading eyes, “That’s my queue to save her.” He excused himself from Tabitha as she jokingly saluted him.
He walked up to the group of women and wrapped his arm around Lola’s waist, “Excuse me ladies would you mind if I steal my beautiful girlfriend away?” He gave them a charming smile.
“Speaking of there he is! Isn’t he just so handsome,” Lola’s mom said speaking to the other women. Completely ignoring Rafe.
“You are one very lucky lady Lola,” One of the woman said to her while winking.
Lola laughed awkwardly not really sure what to say but Rafe saved her, “Oh I think I’m the lucky one. Lola truly is something special.
Her mom hummed, “I guess so sweetie, she’s always been a bit unique.” The comment came more as condescending than a compliment.
“Lola actually rejected me the first time I asked her out but I couldn’t give up on her. Women as beautiful, smart, kind, and extraordinary like her don’t come around much.” He gave her waist a gentle squeeze. Lola wanted to die then and there because he was actually a dream come true.
“We’re going to go get a drink,” Lola smiled before dragging Rafe away. Once they were farther away she burst into a fit of giggles.
Rafe smiled widely, “What are you laughing about?”
She smiled up at him, “Like I said, you’re too good to be true.”
“I just sleak the truth,” He shrugged, “and I’m not gonna let anyone subtly bash my girl.”
My girl. Lola was so screwed. She was in deep deep shit because that warm tingly feeling in her stomach was starting to feel a lot like love.
-
tags: @rosal1nd @magicwithaknife , @f4ll-for-you , @hotch-meeeeeuppppp , @loveu-always
(if you'd like to be removed or tagged let me know!)
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goldenempyrean · 2 years ago
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I Missed You
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〚 Pairing- Natasha Romanoff x Reader 〛
〚 Notes - Currently working on the BeachHouse AU but I wanted to get this out first! Enjoy some sad and weepy Nat :p 〛
〚 Summary - You're off on a mission when Nat starts to feel unwell. And even with her bestfriend at her side, Nat's finding it hard to be alone when she gets sick for the first time in years. 〛
〚 Wordcount - 2100 〛
〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙
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“Are you sure you’re meant to be working right now?” Clint asked casually as he strolled into the kitchen, raising his eyebrows at the woman slumped over a pile of paperwork at the table. 
Natasha looked up at him, her eyes tired and glassy. She tried to give him a reassuring smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "I'm fine," she said, her voice hoarse and cracking, “We both have some much work to do, shouldn’t you be getting your own work done instead of pestering me.”  
“God you’re crabby today, aren't you? And for your information, I’ve already got mine done. It’s easy to concentrate on it when you don’t have a head packed with snot.” He teased and smirked at the disgusted look which grossed her face. 
“You’re gross.” She sniffled thickly – he wasn’t exactly wrong though. She’d woken up feeling a little off a few days ago, there was that lingering soreness at the back of her throat that didn’t quite go away even after getting some water, but she’d put it down to being a little stressed. 
But much to her annoyance, she’d only felt worst throughout the day until she eventually woke up this morning feeling truly awful. But there wasn’t much she could do about that now. All she could do was try to focus and get her work done. 
Clint only shook his head as he began to search the kitchen cupboards for cereal, “Don’t you think you should atheist take a break?” He suggested as he started pouring multiple different kinds of cereal into one bowl. 
“I don’t need too,” She mumbled before quickly bringing her hands to her face when she sneezed loudly, groaning a little afterwards at the pain it’d caused in her throat, “I’ll live.” 
“Well, I’d be more intitled to listen to you if I weren’t terrified of what your girlfriend would do to me if they find out that I’ve let you work while sick.” Clint fake shuddered whilst simultaneously nudging the tissue box at the end of the table closer towards her, earning himself another eyeroll from her.  
But behind that sarcastic front Nat couldn’t help but feel a pang of misery, she missed you so much. Unfortunately, being an Avenger often meant having to go off on solo missions and while the two of you usually made it work, Nat couldn’t help but miss you more than usual. All she wanted was to be cuddled in your arms as you whispered sweet nothings into her hair. But alas, here she was, sick and feeling so very alone. 
Clint noticed the change in her demeanour and sighed softly, “Hey, I know it’s tough, but you can’t keep pushing yourself like this. You need to take care of yourself, and I’m sure your girlfriend would want that too.” He said while mentally kicking himself – he’d been so caught up in his own work that he hadn't even noticed how much Nat was struggling until it was too late. He made a mental note to check in on her more often in the future, to make sure she wasn't feeling overwhelmed or overworked. 
Natasha nodded slowly, her eyes drifting towards the tissue box. She knew he was right, but she hated feeling weak and vulnerable. “I know,” she said softly, “But I just feel so useless when I’m not doing something productive.” 
Clint walked over to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, mentally noting the heating radiating from her bare skin, “You’re not useless, Nat. Sometimes rest and recovery is the most productive thing you can do. And trust me, Y/N would much rather have you healthy and happy than sick and miserable.” 
She sighed, knowing he was right. “I just miss them so much,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper, “I haven’t been sick in years and the first time I do, they’re not even here.” 
It wasn't just the sickness that was making her feel this way. It was the fact that you weren't here with her. You were always her rock, her safe haven, and without you, she felt lost and adrift. You’d been the first person there to comfort her during the blip, the first person to stand by her after taking down the Red Room. You’d always been there. And while this definitely wasn’t the first time she’d been away from you; this was the first time it’d ever made her feel this lonely. 
Clint squeezed her shoulder gently, “I know you do. But you’ll see them soon enough, they’re meant to be home later tonight, aren’t they? I'll get Jarvis to set an alert for their arrival but for now, let’s focus on getting you feeling a bit better, yeah?” 
Natasha nodded and reached for a tissue, blowing her nose loudly. Clint chuckled, “That’s the spirit. Now, how about I make us some tea and we can sit down and go through this paperwork together?” 
However, as Clint went to turn on the kettle, he noticed the increase in her sniffles and turned around. His heart sank as he saw the silent tears running down her cheeks as Nat held her head in her hands, seemingly unable to think of anything other than you.  
Forgetting the tea, he quickly hurried over to her, sitting down and pulling her into a tight hug, his worry only increasing as he felt the small shivers running down her arms as Nat leaned began to sob against him, “I-I'm sorry,” she muttered, “I’m being ridiculous, but all I can do is think about then and that they’re not here and they could be out there hurt somehow on their mission and I wouldn’t know because I-” 
“Shh, Natty.” Clint soothed quietly, rubbing her back gently as her sobs continued, “If Y/N was ever hurt on a mission, we’d know instantly. Jarvis has their vitals always monitored. They’re okay Natasha, now I know you don’t feel well so we need to get this fever down, it’s only going to make you feel worst.” 
“There’s fever patches in the fridge...” Nat mumbled through her sniffles so quietly that Clint almost missed it entirely, “Vision made me put some in there earlier.” 
  Clint nodded, mentally thanking Vision for his wisdom. He continued to hold Nat for a little longer before slowly releasing her, swiping a handful of tissues and pressing them into her hand so she could clean up her face a little, "I'll get them for you and finish off that tea. I want you to pack this stuff away," He said, his fatherly tone seeping into his words, "No arguments this time. Pack it away, you're not working anymore. That's final." 
After receiving a small nod, Clint went to search through the fridge before finding the small packet and setting it on the side as he re-boiled the kettle to make some tea – making sure to add in a generous squirt of honey. He knew how tough it was for Natasha to admit weakness or vulnerability and seeing her break down like that made him realise just how much she was struggling. By the time he’d finished making the tea though, Nat had cleaned up the table a little, her piles of paperwork sitting neatly in one small stack whilst she sank down a little into her chair, muffling a chesty sounding cough into her elbow. 
Mentally grimacing at the sound of her rattling chest, Clint placed the tea down in front of her, "There you go," He offered a comforting smile to his partner, "hopefully that will help your throat a bit. Now I know you’re not going to like this, but do you think you’d like to go lay down for a few hours? I’ll finish up your work for you.” 
Natasha gave a weak nod, her eyes looking a little watery once again as she took a sip of her tea, "Thank you, Clint. I'm sorry for being such a mess," she murmured, her voice hoarse and strained from her coughing. 
Clint shook his head, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder, "You don't need to apologize for being sick, Nat. We all get like this sometimes," he reassured her, "Now go lay down, get some rest. I'll take care of everything." 
With that, Natasha slowly stood up from her chair, wobbling slightly as she did so. Clint quickly moved to steady her, keeping a hand on her shoulder to keep her steady. "Easy now," he murmured, "Don't overdo it." 
Natasha gave him a weak smile as he led her towards her bedroom, her steps slow and unsteady. Once they reached her room, Clint helped her to sit down on the bed before tucking her in with a soft blanket. "Get some rest," he said, his voice gentle, "I'll come check on you in a little bit. I’ll make sure no one disturbs you." 
On his way out of her room Clint couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness in his heart as he thought about you, wherever you were, and how much Nat missed you. He knew he couldn't replace you, but he would do his best to take care of Nat in your absence. Instead he’d concentrate on getting her work done so the two of you would have nothing to worry about except each other when you finally got back. 
〘✧✧✧〙 
The sky was dark by the time you’d finally gotten home that night. The compound was quiet, most of the agents had left for the day and most people were already in bed so it was safe to say you were surprised to come into the kitchen to see Clint sitting over the table, eating pasta as he stared down at the files in front of him. 
“Hey.” You called out quietly, seemingly startling him a little. 
“Y/N!” His face lit up instantly as he got up from the table, coming over to hug you, “You’re back finally, thank god.” 
You’d be lying if you said his reaction didn’t puzzle you a little though, “Yeah, sorry the flight back took a little longer than expected, is everything alright? Oh, have you seen Nat too by the way? I texted her to tell her I was home, but I think her phones dead or something.” 
Clint pulled away from the hug, his brow furrowed with concern. "Nat's not feeling so well actually. She's got the flu I think, she’s probably sleeping still." He gestured to the files on the table. "I’ve just been doing her paperwork. She really missed you while you were away Y/N, like really missed you.” 
“I’ll go check on her then,” You sighed, hating that you weren’t here to take care of her, you knew Nat rarely got sick and whenever she did, it usually hit her hard, “Thank you though,” You said genuinely, giving Clint an appreciative smile, “Thanks for looking out for her.” 
“It's no problem. Nat’s important to me, I wasn’t going to just sit there while she suffered. She’s going to be so happy to see you.” Clint nodded, before going over to the table to pick up his bowl of pasta, “I'm gonna head to bed soon now thpugh, I’ll finish that in the morning.” 
“Goodnight Clint.” You gave him a final smile before hurrying off in the direction of your bedroom. 
As you reached your room, you made sure to quietly open the door, not wanting to startle her. But once the light flooded the room, letting you see the outline of your girlfriend, your heart sank. Nat was curled up beneath the blankets in one of your hoodies as she tightly hugged one of your favourite stuffed animals. Even in the dim light, you could see the dark red grasp of a fever clutching to her cheeks.  
Not wanting to disturb her more than necessary, you silently got changed out of your suit into some comfy thin pyjamas before gently climbing in bed next to the sleeping widow. You’d intended to not wake her up but despite your best efforts, the redhead stirred a little as you settled down into the duvet. 
“Shh, baby, It’s okay now. I’m here, okay?” You whispered quietly, as Nat sleepily shuffled up into your hold, welcoming your touch as you pulled her close against your chest. 
“I missed you.” Her raspy voice barely louder than a whisper before sleep pulled her back down into its hands. 
“I missed you too moya lyubov',” You murmured softly, “I’m here now, okay? And I'm going to look after you.” 
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mermaidinthecity · 3 months ago
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Foreword
“These songs were once about my life. They are now about yours.”
I was born in Reading, Pennsylvania on December 13, 1989.
In the world we live in, much is said about when we are born and when we die. Our birthday is celebrated every year to commemorate the very instant we came into the world, and a funeral is held to mark the day we leave it. But lately I’ve been wondering…what can be said of all the moments in between our birth and our death? The moments when we are reborn…
The debate over whether people can change is an interesting one for me to observe because it seems like all I ever do is change. All I ever do is learn from my mistakes so I don’t make the same ones again. Then I make new ones. I know people can change because it happens to me little by little every day. Every day I wake up as someone slightly new. isn’t it wild and intriguing and beautiful to think that every day we are new?
For the last few years, I’ve woken up every day not wanting, but needing to write a new style of music. I needed to change the way I told my stories and the way they sounded. I listened to a lot of music from the decade in which I was born and I listened to my intuition that it was a good thing to follow this gut feeling. I was also writing a different storyline than I’d ever told you before.
I wrote about moving to the loudest and brightest city in the world, the city I had always been overwhelmed by…until now. I think you have to know who you are and what you want in order to take on New York and all its blaring truth. I wrote about the thrill I got when I finally learned that love, to some extent, is just a game of cat and mouse. I wrote about looking back on a lost love and understanding that nothing good comes without loss and hardship and constant struggle. There is no ‘riding off into the sunset,’ like I used to imagine. We are never out of the woods, because we are always going to be fighting for something. I wrote about love that comes back to you just when you thought it was lost forever, and how some feelings never go out of style. I wrote about an important lesson I learned recently…that people can say whatever they want about me, but they can’t make me lose my mind. I’ve learned how to shake things off.
I’ve told you my stories for years now. some have been about coming of age. some have been about coming undone. This is a story about coming into your own, and as a result…coming alive.
I hope you know that you’ve given me the courage to change. I hope you know that who you are is who you choose to be, and that whispers behind your back don’t define you. you are the only one who gets to decide what you will be remembered for.
From the girl who said she would never cut her hair or move to New York or find happiness in a world where she is not in love…
love,
taylor
— Taylor Swift, 1989 (2014)
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mae-gi-writes · 1 year ago
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dial 199 | jeon wonwoo
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In which you think you’re past saving, but the person on the other end of the line manages to pull you out of your dark waters.
Genre: angst, suicidal thoughts, reader is showing signs of depression.
If you believe you have symptoms and need to consult someone, please take that courage and do so. I swear life gets better.
———
“Hello, how may I help you?”
The gruff male voice at the other end of the line sounded raspy, as though the guy had just woken up from sleep. Or maybe you had interrupted him in mid-doze.
Your fingers tightened over the receiver. From your spot on the bench, nobody would see you amidst the darkness of the campus. It was practically midnight, after all.
“Is this WGU?” You managed to whisper in half-shame ad half embarrassment.
You were glad this wasn’t an in-person service because by god you would’ve never stepped foot in their office. But as desperate ass you were, you had no choice.
“Yes, this is WGU, also known as the “We Got You” committee. Anything I can help with?” The voice on the other end softened slightly, “are you in a safe space where you can talk without being interrupted?”
“I—“ you debated on lying, and decided against it, “actually I’m in the middle of the courtyard. I’m still on campus.”
“In the dark?”
“Yes. Not wise I know. But I couldn’t risk calling from my house, my housemates are there,” your throat ran dry. You swallowed thickly, “and honestly I just didn’t feel comfortable knowing that they might hear.”
“That’s understandable. How can I help?”
He said it so casually, as though he was a mere employee at a grocery store helping you pick out a shade of lipstick. Your grip on your phone was so tight your knuckles turned white.
You took a deep breath. Exhaled softly through your mouth. Then, spoke once more.
“I—This is confidential right? And nothing that I speak about will go beyond this conversation?”
“You do not have to give me your name nor do you have to give me any details. Everything is, and will stay, anonymous and confidential,” he then added, “unless you want to tell me. But that’s up to you.”
“Okay,” you bit your lip, “okay. So uhm—what shall I call you? Sir?”
“Call me Woo,” he said, “that’s what my friends call me.”
“Ah okay, uh, Mr. Woo—“
“Just Woo will do.”
“Uhm yes so, Woo—“ you stumbled over your words, “I—I’m really sorry to be calling at such a late hour, first of all.”
“That’s fine. I’m on the night shift anyway so you’re right on time.” You heard him shifting, “tell me, what’s been on your mind? Anything I can help with?”
“Well, the thing is—“ you felt the hard lump in your throat, the one that you couldn’t swallow, “I—I have a problem. I’ve been feeling very…how to say this? Negative, lately.”
“Negative? Can you try to explain what that means?”
“Like, very overwhelmed and just tired. I can’t seem to focus in class and my mind’s all over the place. My brain can’t stop thinking and I’m so homesick that I barely go out and—“
The tears came out by then, flooding over and taking you by surprise as you tried to silence your sobs. Woo waited at the other end of the line as you silently cried into the receiver, shoulders shaking and lips trembling every time your chest shuddered with emotion. It ripped through you like a cord that had snapped and suddenly you found yourself crying for so many reasons; the stress that came with midterms, the fact that all your other friends seemed to have settled and not you, the fact that maybe you were never going to fit in. The fact that you missed home more than you could imagine.
There were so many things, so many reasons to be angry at the world. And as you cried and cried and cried, you wondered briefly whether Woo had known he was going to sign up for this when he decided to join the WGU community. Probably not.
The poor boy was probably regretting all of his decisions right then, right now.
“Miss? Are you okay?” His familiar baritone seeped back through the receiver, which you kept a desperate clutch on like it was your lifeline, “I’m still here,” you gasped out.
“Alright we’re going to talk about all the things you just mentioned, okay? But first I want you to do something for me,” he instructed in a manner so calm you found yourself listening, “you’re going to take a super deep breath. And then breathe in. And then you’re going to hold it for as long as you can. Ready?”
He breathed in and you did the same, listening to the sound of air getting sucked into his chest before you held on tight. The air burned through your lungs and somehow, everything went quiet.
“Breathe out,” he murmured, and you followed.
You did that two more times before you managed to find your breath. It stuttered, it spun and sobs kept bubbling up your throat. But Woo drew your focus back in, not letting you get distracted just for one second.
When you finally managed to come down from whatever chaotic minefield in your brain, Woo murmured out, “feel better?”
“A little bit,” you admitted somewhat shyly.
You didn’t know this man. Yet he felt so comfortable to talk to, so reassuring.
“You want to try and re-explain what you’re really struggling with?” He asked tentatively, in a manner that felt so ope and non-judge mental.
“I think,” you bit at your lip, squeezed your eyes shut and let the words fall from your mouth in a whisper, “I think I might be depressed.”
There was a pause. Before he said, “okay, can you elaborate a bit more? What makes you think that?”
“Well, I—I’m always thinking of negative things and even when I try to cheer myself up I can’t. I want to go out and hang out with friends, but I can’t because I feel like—like nobody wants me there anyway, or that it doesn’t matter if I’m there or not. I don’t make a difference,” your shoulders lift in a shrug, capturing a sob mid-way, “I feel like I don’t belong anywhere and I’m constantly questioning why the heck am I here, am I still alive when maybe, maybe I shouldn’t.”
“Thank you,” Woo said, “that must’ve been hard.”
You laughed, though it was more to mask the fact that what he said was true. It had been the hardest thing you’d ever done.
“Sometimes, when you’re in that negative headspace, you tend to overthink and over feel quite a lot. It’s a normal reaction when you’re stuck in your head,” he started out, “and, by the way, I’m not just saying this to make you feel better. It’s—I know how it feels like. I’ve been there, too. And the thing is, it’s so hard to get out of your own head sometimes. It feels like drowning.”
Yes. It did feel like drowning. You nodded, before realizing he couldn’t see you, “yeah, it does feel a bit like drowning.”
“And it feels lonely, because you’re the only one who knows what it really feels like. You’re the only one trying to catch your breath. Everyone just seems to be going on with their lives and you’re there, wishing for someone to see you.”
“Yeah, sounds about right. I just—“ you sigh, “there’s no point in living if people don’t even know I exist.”
“You want someone to care, after all. Even if you want to be alone.”
“It’s complicated. I want someone to see me, but then again I don’t want to be a burden.”
“We were made to be burdens. People have to rely on other people to live,” Woo said softly, “and it’s okay to be a burden once in a while because that’s what makes us human. We’re not superheroes.”
Relying on other people meant to tell people what was hidden in the grooves of your heart and honestly, you weren’t sure whether you wanted to share that with them. Those deep, dark secrets that made your insides churn just at the thought. Who would entertain such thought? They’d merely brand you as crazy and drop you off at the psychiatrists as quickly as you’d come.
You didn’t want that. If you were to find professional help, you’d do it on your own.
But you weren’t ready. Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
“Look, I don’t think it’s fair to ask you to be better as soon as you reach out. That’s not how it works,” Woo said, “but imagine that you have with you a super big guard dog. It’s all black and people don’t really like it. Actually, they’re scared of it.”
You tried following his suggestion. Your guard dog would be a husky, despite the fact that Woo said he’d be all black. Maybe an all-black husky?
“Okay,” you whispered into the receiver, holding it closer to you on instinct.
“Great. Now this dog. People fear it and normally you don’t mind it’s presence. Actually, you never really wanted a dog but he suddenly showed up one day. As a pup. So who were you to resist him right?”
You weren’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but you hummed in agreement anyway.
“That dog takes up a lot of your free time, and at some point he might become so big that it overwhelms you,” Woo said, “isn’t it a bit like what you’re feeling right now?”
You blinked. Somehow, that kind of made sense. You replayed his words in your head and felt your brain clear a little, like mist suddenly evaporating in the dead of night.
Your fingers loosened on the phone. Somehow, air seemed to go through your lungs a little easier. Your heart felt a little lighter.
A black guard dog filled with negative emotions. That was what you ultimately carried around. Woo had found the perfect metaphor to make you realize that this wasn’t entirely you. It was something that perhaps was uncontrollable and yet, could be controlled to some extent.
It didn’t have to rule your life. It didn’t have to rule your emotions. It didn’t have to make you sad all the time and angry at the world for not understanding the tremors inside you.
The words felt like butter as they left your mouth. It felt like a breath of fresh air the next time you spoke, “thank you.”
“Did that potentially bring down your sadness by at least one percent?”
“It really did,” the faintest of smiles played along your lips, “thank you.”
“No need. That’s what we do after all. I’m glad you’re feeling a little better.”
“Well I still feel like I should thank you anyway, because—“ you paused, “you’re the only one who actually listened.”
He chuckled but didn’t say anything more. You sat there for a few long, drawn out moments, wondering how just five minutes ago you were practically a ball of unrestrained feelings that seemed on the verge of breaking. And now there was a soothing calm that made your mind pause, that made everything still and steady until it was easy enough to breath again.
It was almost as though you’d managed to break out of the water, breathing in fresh air like your life depended on it.
“Thank you,” you said again, “thank you so much.”
“Just remember me next time, if ever you call.” Woo teased, “if someone else answers the phone you can say that you’re used to talking to Woo. They’ll transfer you straight over.”
“Are you on shift the whole night?”
“Until five in the morning.”
“You don’t have classes the next day?”
“Thank god no. I don’t think I would’ve survived. I have a free day tomorrow until four in the afternoon, so it’s not that bad.”
“That sounds nice. I have an eight in the morning. English Lit.”
“Wha—the wonder of people choosing morning classes will always be a mystery to me.”
“The logic is that you can get everything out of the way quicker so you don’t have to linger around on campus for nothing.”
He hummed, “I do agree, that sounds smart.”
“I should probably go to bed though, it’s late,” you check your watch as you spoke, eyes rounding at the clock showing one in the morning, “oh shit. I’m really going to struggle tomorrow.”
“Do you really have to wake up early?”
“Well yeah, otherwise I’ll miss my bus and I’ll have to catch up.”
“Maybe it’s good that you get to sleep in, don’t you think?” He prompted, “don’t you deserve that much, after the night you just had?”
A knot of anxiety settled in your stomach, “but—then I—“
“No buts,” he cut you off, “you deserve that much, Y/N. Trust me. You deserve to take a break and enjoy just being.”
there was a moment of silence as you pondered over his suggestion and your mind was already assessing the pros and cons, only for you to shut them all up and say, “you’re right. I think I deserve that much.”
“Good. Now will you do me a favor? Go home and get some sleep?”
“I will.”
“Alright. You’ll be okay, right?”
“I will,” you softened, “Thanks a lot, Woo.”
“Goodnight, Y/N. Sweet dreams.”
“Goodnight Woo.”
It wasn’t until you were halfway to your house that you realized you’d never told him your name.
———
Wonwoo watched you go from his perch on the streetlight lamp. It wasn’t the steadiest of landing points but this was the best way to watch your figure walk without catching attention. He just wanted to make sure you were safe and sound, especially at this hour where everything could happen.
His wings brushed against his back as he kept gazing at your retreating figure in the distance, the softest of smiles gracing his face, “you’ll be alright, Y/N.”
———
A/N: Hoped you liked this little one shot, inspired from true events. I’ve been feeling severely under the weather to the point that it’s taken two days of reality away from me and I wish it never happens again. This is a gentle reminder to all of you to take care of yourselves, and that someone out there is always going to care, and to want to listen.
Love you all, friends <;3
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idontplaytrack · 7 months ago
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No sleep
Capri Donahue x fem! reader
Warnings: fluff, some coarse language
Something keeps reader up at night, Capri is determined to find out just what it was and help her get back to sleep
“Darling, it’s 3:30 in the morning. Why don’t you want to go back to sleep?” Capri rolled over, a soft sigh escaping from her lips.
“I got woken up.” You answered vaguely.
“y/n.”
“I’ll be fine, just leave me be.” You told her while you rolled over to face her, “This happens more than you realise.”
“What happens?” Capri asks quietly, “You’ve never actually told me why before.”
“Sleep paralysis.” You exhaled harshly, rubbing your eyes. “Sometimes…I get woken up by what feels like someone is sitting on my chest and holding down my entire body. I hear weird things and see even weirder things, even when my eyes are closed.”
“Oh.” She says, looking right into your eyes, “I had that happen a few times— so scary. I’m sorry, baby.”
“I started having this problem when I was I think, a freshman in high school. So seven years now?”
“Is there anything I can do to help?”
“I’m not sure.” You replied, fighting the urge to shut your eyes, feeling the sensations of an instance of the sleep paralysis creep up on you. You could feel if it was going to happen. “I don’t even know what triggers this.”
Did that freak you out? Absolutely. Way too much in fact.
Her hand ran up and down your arm, as though trying to coax you to sleep. But you did not give in, not a chance.
“Don’t fight it, I’m just going to be right here, darling. Could be stress from classes or work, you may not realise it but your body knows.”
You shake your head, murmuring a ‘no’, “I can’t fall asleep again, I’m scared.” “I’m just gonna hold you, and if you do fall asleep, just— fall asleep. If it happens, you’ll know that it’s just me here with you. You’re safe, hm?”
You pondered for a quick second but ultimately just gave in to her suggestion, the sheer tiredness became too overwhelming. So much so that if you pushed yourself to stay up until sunrise, you would be so so cranky. You might’ve cried a little, too once she held you securely in her arms. See? She knew you needed to get to sleep otherwise nothing would be right from that point onwards.
You were fortunate that Capri knew what you were dealing with, because you initially thought she wouldn’t have a clue what it was, but right now? You were beyond relieved and tired, so you very quickly succumbed to slumber.
Once you did fall asleep, Capri does so as well. “You’ll be okay. I’ve got you, rest up.”
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🏷️Tag list:
@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128
💭A/N:
Oh look another one😗 courtesy of my 4am struggle this morning🧍🏻‍♀️just wanted to write a cute little drabble hehe
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rationaliity · 9 months ago
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OC — CALICO
Calico and Tabby ★★★★★
Preservation — Physical Faction : Planetary Protection Division Obtained On : 20XX-XX-XX Character Introduction : Two sisters working with the IPC; they’re always close to each other, never straying apart for long. Two bright, eccentric personalities, one girl dances around telling her exact feelings, while the other tells it as it is without hesitation.
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Character Story I : ( Unlocked at Character Level 20 )
XX-XX-XXXX : patient has not woken up from her state of comatose since we found her on the dead planet. eye witnesses say she was awake when they found her, but she passed out from exhaustion soon after. we have reason to suspect she dropped her survival instincts, and her body’s exhaustion caught up to her. we don’t know when she’ll wake up, if she even will, but we are doing tests around the clock to check on the long-term affects of being on a dead planet long after a stellaron crisis. some of her wounds are scarred over so many times we cannot get a date on how long she’s been there, but documents have proof that the stellaron burst on the planet that caused the explosion happened at least two hundred years ago.
XX-XX-XXXX : we found… anomalies within her body while she has been out. the majority of her body’s muscles are comprised of scar tissues deep within the layer of her skin, and she is missing.. her entire uterus, with serious scarring all around that area. we have ideas of what happened, but none of us are willing to voice our concerns because all of our ideas are graphic and terrifying to think about. she still has not woken up, and we are beginning to suspect there are serious injuries inside of her brain as well. perhaps a lack of proper food and sleep have diminished her cognitive abilities, or at the very least, could explain why she is in a coma currently. until we have more information, we do not know what happened to her on that planet. regardless, we’re all in an agreement: whatever she went through, it was hell on earth. i believe an easier fate for her would have been death.
Character Story II : ( Unlocked at Character Level 40 )
XX-XX-XXXX : she has woken up, and seemed a lot calmer talking with us than we initially expected. furthermore, we’ve come to a shocking revelation: she has no memory of her time on that planet after the stellaron explosion. she can only recall her name, calico, and an overwhelming desire to find someone she knew from the planet before the explosion. we have reason to believe that it’s because of the damage to her brain we found during a brain scan, but we’re doing whatever we can to attempt to restore her memories. we have a renowned doctor from the intelligentsia guild is here to study her case, although he refuses to talk with the subject face to face. perhaps he finds her less than ? he’s adamant about the subject remaining unaware of his work here. 
XX-XX-XXXX : a week after she woke up, calico was trying to stand and broke her femur practically in two. her body is so weak right now that she’s struggling to move, but she refuses to give up and continues to push herself. however, when the doctor tried to help her, she insisted that she was okay, even daring to stand up on her own two feet. doctors everywhere were stunned, even i can hardly believe it.  after running some tests, we’ve discovered that the nerve endings in her entire body are not working properly, and her brain no longer sends signals to signify pain. she cuts out the majority of pain from her cognition unless its something detrimental. this is… not a wholesome update to her case. we are worried that she may not ever progress as a normal person again.
Character Story III : ( Unlocked at Character Level 60 )
XX-XX-XXXX : i’ve been.. staying at this hospital for a long time now. doctors walk by and shoot me a look of pity, as if i’m a failed experiment. a lab rat gone wrong. but i won’t give up hope. no matter how much they poke and prod at me, i know.. i know i will get out of here. alive, hopefully. i’ve been regaining my strength, and my stomach can now handle most foods, even if i have to eat in small bursts. apparently, starving does numbers on your ability to eat. i want to get out of his hospital, and make a name for myself out here. perhaps i could join the interastral peace corporation myself. i mean, they were the ones who saved my life, i kind of owe it to them, don’t i ? besides, i've heard talk that they'll wring usefulness out of anything, so saving my life did not come for free, i'm sure. so many people came to help me, including very important people, so i’ve heard, i feel as though i wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the doctors that helped me along the way. i just wonder what i can do, what i bring to the table.. but sitting here beating myself up over my uselessness isn’t going to change anything.
i want to get out of this place, yes. but i think what i want more is to have a normal body, a normal life. i cannot.. no, i won't live like this, unable to find my own path. i'm better than this, i think. i want to be better than this, at least. i've been studying cellular regeneration, and i think i figure it out. i mean, i'm just sitting in a lab every day. i've got the time to figure it out.
Character Story IV : ( Unlocks at Character Level 80 )
XX-XX-XXXX : and here i was, under the impression that your first week alive wouldn't be a hard one ! i've been tested and tested over a million different times, and i still have no idea why at this point. we know what happened, we know why i'm here. she copied her dna and tried to replicate it, but before the cells got swapped over, something went wrong. the experiment didn't stop at just copying her damaged cells, it created all of her cells, which made meeee ! i don't understand why we need to do so many tests. apparently, there's even an important guy from the ipc here to do some tests, but i haven't seen him yet. she likes to avoid him as much as possible, i wonder why. is she nervous ? no. she's not the nervous type. maybe she just doesn't know how to approach him. she's silly like that.
i like her. and i like him too. but, obviously i do. i'm her, everything about me is just her copied over. well, everything is just her except my conversational skills, of course. while we were talking to someone, she was getting uncomfortable, and i could tell that she didn't like this guy very much. so i told him to stop talking to us and that he was making her feel bad. and what did she say to me ? she said " tabby, you can't just say that to people, that makes them feel bad. " but i don't get that line of reasoning. why should she feel bad and not other people ? what's the point of not saying what you mean ?
-
GALLERY > VOICELINES > LIGHTCONE
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inga-don-studio · 11 months ago
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Welp, outside of being sick I think that’s the first time I’ve unintentionally slept the day away and woken up feeling better. Stuff going on at work put me in the weirdest agitated mind space with a mean side of brain fog for the past few days (why I kinda dropped off the radar here since Saturday), but I’m feeling a hell of a lot better … if not a little disappointed that half my weekend is gone now. :p
I think I’m going to plan to take a long-overdue social media break March 13-22ish because that’ll be a VERY long workweek with similar stressors to this last one, & I know my introverted butt is going to be overwhelmed.
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