#she was clearly upset but she says it’s fine and at this point I’ve apologized but Uf
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somethin a little shorter this week, the past couple of days have sorta fucked with me so i apologize if this really isn’t that great of a chapter. hopefully i improve! word count: 1,233 TW: Allusion to past domestic violence
A Surprising Invite
Chapter 3
As Raela huffed around her apartment, frustration seeming to vibrate off of her in waves at how the Qatar GP had gone, with the mirror in the track and all the crashes around turn one, let alone Max’s place penalty (despite her overwhelming pride at him finishing P1), she heard her phone going off. She groaned, annoyed at someone having the audacity to call her after she set it to vibrate so she didn’t feel like she needed to answer anyone, also having the day off of work while Fable was at daycare. It had only rung twice by this point, so she walked over to where it sat on the kitchen counter and glanced at the screen before squeaking loudly. In her surprise at the caller, she rushed to pick up her phone, accidentally dropping it directly on her toe and hissing at herself in pain as she hastily bent down to pick it up.
“Hey Max! That was one insane race!” She speaks lightheartedly as she answers the call, trying to hide how out of breath she sounds, all annoyance washed from her voice at his unexpected call.
“Yeah it was! You watched it all? You didn’t pull an all nighter just so you could, did you?” He asked, having already learned she usually didn’t properly wake up before ten in the morning on her days off (if she even did get sleep), right when the race would have been finishing for her.
Raela had been threatening for the last two days that she would stay awake to see his race, and Max had to very adamantly demand she didn’t each time. She laughs loudly, thinking back on the numerous conversations they’d had in the last three days with her threats, let alone just how much they’d spoken in the last week.
“Yes, I got a full 3 hours of sleep before I watched your race.” She says, smirking to herself.
“Only 3?” Max scoffed, appalled at how she was sounding so chirpy off so little sleep.
“Oh that’s plenty. I can function perfectly fine off 3 hours.” She responds, giggling. Max couldn’t ponder it, grumbling at her about her bad health habits. Then he sighed and groaned. Raela could hear her new friend’s distress.
“Whats wrong?” She asked him softly, not wanting to push in case he just didn’t want to talk about it.
“Just, this whole race, the entire FIA, the GPDA but mostly George cause he’s president of it. This entire season has just been so chaotic.” He mumbled, sounding like he was fighting a migraine.
“But hey, you came out on top,” Raela pointed out, pausing a moment before adding; “Even after that ridiculous place penalty after you rightfully earned pole.” She scoffed, her nerves heated again. Max only groaned louder.
“I can’t understand why George advocated for them to do that.” Max grumbled again, clearly upset.
“Wait George told them to?!” Raela gasps in shock and aggravation as she walks into the living room and over to her couch, plopping down after being tired of standing at her kitchen counter.
“Yeah. He said I was driving unnecessarily slowly during Q3.” Max responded, his tone flat but not entirely clear of frustration.
“That’s entirely bullshit! Is that why over the radios Gianpiero was all snarky when he said ‘You certainly didn’t drive unnecessarily slow today’?” Raela squawked, her own snarkiness slipping smoothly into her tone as she asked the question. Max chuckled, surprised this woman would jump to his defense after only being his friend such a short time.
“I agree. And yeah. GP was pissed at it all, he was close to going on a tirade.” Max said, chuckling before noticing his teams tech chief waving over to him from where he stood. “Hey, looks like I’ve gotta go. Team needs me for stuff.” Raela could hear the smirk in Max’s voice.
“Alright Mad Max, try not to be too awesome in there.” Raela grinned, sending him off with well wishes as they hung up the call.
———
Raela’s POV
After getting off the phone with Max, Raela sighed, leaning her head back onto the arm rest of her couch. As she thinks back on the last 6 months of her life, she can’t help but wonder how it all led her to here. Standing up to finish the cleaning she’d been attempting earlier, Raela can’t help but laugh at herself.
6 months ago she was a mother who had been in a solid relationship for just over a year, with a man that treated her daughter like his own, a relationship that she thought would result in marriage, only for it to blow up 2 months prior to when she met Max. As Raela’s thoughts drift to her ex, she notices the corner of the wall from the living room into the hallway to the bedrooms has a chunk of it missing. Subconsciously she reaches to the scar on the back of her head. Her impact one night into the wall because of him had caused both the crack and the scar.
4 months ago, she was preparing her daughter for her first day of pre-school, both of them crying simultaneously with each other and for each other, excitement at how the day had gone at the end bringing the mother and daughter pair to the kitchen for a dinner full of laughter and stories.
Then, 2 months ago. Out of nowhere, Raela’s ex-boyfriend Jackson had moved out of state. He hadn’t told her he was, and he was going so far as to tell his friends he never wanted to speak to her again.
Finally, last month. Raela had been working diligently at the firm for the month, not wanting to think about Jackson but knowing she needed to keep herself and her daughter afloat. As she’s putting together what feels like her millionth discovery but is probably closer to her 10th, her boss walks into her office, places an envelope and a note on her desk, and all without her even having a chance to speak, he walks back out. Dumbfounded, Raela opens the note.
“We all see you. We all see how hard you work. We all see how much hurt you’re in right now, and yet you’ve worked harder this last month than any paralegal we’ve had. And:
We ALL know you’re the biggest fan of Formula 1 racing in the firm. Enjoy Las Vegas!” Raela couldn’t help but squeal as she’d read that, immediately being hugged by 3 of her closest coworkers.
“I knew he’d take our idea!” Her first friend in the firm, Luisa had chirped, proud to be the one to bring it up to him.
“I’m happy he did.” Her best friend Marigold had agreed.
“I’m just wondering whats in the envelope? It looks thick.” Her auntie figure Liz pointed out. Raela remembered fondly what she had found. A fully fleshed itinerary, a paper with the name of her hotel as well as the room number, as well as her tickets to every event of the Formula 1 Las Vegas Grand Prix.
As Raela continued to clean, she realized one thing she had to be gateful to her ex for. He may have hurt her and broken her heart; She was now friends with a 4 time world champion. And she couldn’t be any more proud to call Max her friend.
taglist: @chaoswithus
#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 x female oc#f1 x oc#formula 1 x female oc#formula 1 x oc#formula one x female oc#formula one x oc#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#max verstappen x oc#max verstappen#m4x verstappen#M4X🦁💙
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La Pluie: The Kindness is the Point
Hello again, friends and fellow clowns. It’s a Saturday evening and I have recovered from the Devil’s Nap. I’ve seen some great posts already, and I feel compelled to share some thoughts as well following Episode 9 of La Pluie. This episode focused on the fact that Patts has always been a kind person and that Nara is deserving of grace. This show displays a gentleness for its characters that feels so queer to me because so many of us can appreciate how difficult it is to have love, and the way this show goes out of its way to NOT punch down on its characters cannot be overstated.
Nara Gets What She Needed and What We All Deserve
Before I get into talking about Nara, please go read @liyazaki post about the breakup scene and @lurkingshan talking about how Nara’s role in this show subverts the faen fatale trope. Both are brilliant, and I cannot do them justice in any reiteration.
gif by @liyazaki
I absolutely love how this show treats Nara. It’s the exact opposite of bisexual erasure. We have seen across five episodes now that Patts’ feelings for Nara were incredibly real and sincere. They loved each other. When he began hearing Saengtai it became a completely understandable problem in their relationship. Saengtai doesn’t get jealous of the former relationship between them; he instead gets upset because he sees that once again the soulmate connection has caused pain in another relationship. We could have left Nara behind in the last episode and totally been fine, but this show said that she deserves closure, and she doesn’t deserve to lose her friends.
Nara comes to Saengtai and apologizes unknowingly interfering in his relationship with Patts, states that she wouldn’t have done any of this if she had known about them and apologizes for causing his misunderstanding (implying that she blames herself for sending him into his mountain spiral). Tai instead apologizes to her for causing so much trouble and says that all of this was because of his own troubles. You can see the sigh of relief in Nara and the immediate drop in tension. Nara offers that she likes Tai and Patts as a pair, and clearly says something about Patts’ body to make Saengtai blush. I think it’s wonderful that Tai doesn’t have to leave this trip feeling any kind of ambivalence for his boyfriend’s ex.
Later, Dream brings Nara along to the party, and everyone checks on Tai and Patts to see how this will play out. Tai assures everyone that they talked, and Nara is instantly welcomed back into the fold. The other vets are genuinely relieved to have her back with them and reminisce about old times they had together. After the party montage Patts uses the truth or dare game to pull Nara aside and have one final conversation with her about their relationship.
gif by @liyazaki
Mor already wrote beautifully about the Patts and Nara scene (linked above), and I think it’s so special that this show gave us this scene. This show began with Tai letting us know that his soulmate parents divorced. He has painful feelings wrapped up in how soulmate relationships dissolve, and he still feels a lot of angst about his own parents. I think it’s incredibly helpful for Saengtai to see that Patts and Nara still love each other despite not being able to move forward as lovers.
Finally, the show lets Nara be sad about the end of her romance with Patts. Despite the friendship they might rebuild and maintain in the future, her pain is real, and it matters, too. She’s allowed to have a moment of sadness with Dream and weep for the hopes that she must let go. There are even hints that perhaps Dream held a quiet crush on Nara before (@slayerkitty and @respectthepetty). How wonderfully kind it is of this show to show so many different people holding unrequited feelings for each other without it turning into angst or cruelty. The end of one relationship is not the end of love. Hopefully Tai remembers this as we get back into some of his family drama.
We needed to see the amount of grace extended to Nara. In a show about how love is an active and ongoing choice, there’s no way we could move forward without honoring Nara. I also think it’s important that Nara acknowledge the love between two men as special and valuable as Tai also acknowledges that her love with Patts is valuable. Despite the complex queer relationship chart being drawn across this friend group, everyone is determined to keep folks together.
Patts Has Always Been Good
Let’s talk about Patts. We’ve been saying for weeks that he’s a good guy and that the show has given us no real reason to be suspicious of him. I loved the reveal about him being The Kind One. I’m also curious about the temper he mentioned he has to Nara.
We finally got @shortpplfedup to watch the show, and she nailed down immediately that the core themes are about the choice to love each other in small ways constantly. I cannot stress enough that for all the writing and thinking we’ve done this episode, Tai and Patts do not refer to each other as soulmates this episode at all. They are boyfriends now. They are boyfriends because Patts has always been kind. They are boyfriends because Saengtai has been open to kindness even when he’s hurting and a bit scared.
gif by @liyazaki
My man Patts loves to write notes.
I love the reveal that Patts and Tai happened to be neighbors years ago. Patts was seeing Nara at the time, which we know because the grandmother asked about her. We know that Patts was an attentive and diligent grandson who happened to notice that Tai was clearly going through something. He didn’t even know what Tai looked like. He just saw that he was hurting and wanted to help. We know that help mattered to Tai to the point that even Tien knows about it. When Patts’ grandmother dies, Tai goes out of his way to send that kindness right back.
gifs by @liyazaki
What’s more, you can see these two falling even deeper in love with each other as soon as they recognize that they were briefly pen pals during a very difficult time in their lives. This is great news for fans like me who liked episode six opening with a high heat scene, because Tai is wearing this sweater in the scenes we saw in the trailer during what felt like their first time.
We eatin’ good next week. (“Not as good as Patts.” - @ginnymoonbeam )
However, Patts mentioned to Nara that he has a temper, and we’ve seen that he’s painfully aware of Lomfon’s interest in Tai. I like the show’s choice to hold Lomfon’s conversation with Patts until next week, because it doesn’t matter to Tai. Tai isn’t interested in Lomfon in any way comparable to Patts. I’m excited to see Lomfon get decked for interfering, and for Tai to get mad at Patts for feeling threatened.
I Love Everyone in This Show
I think it’s notable that Saengtien has dropped any pretense that he enjoys being around Lomfon, and I like that it clearly complicates Lomfon’s own feelings. You can see that Lomfon doesn’t even know how to deal with the passive kindness Tai extends to him just because he’s close to his brother.
gif by @wanderlust-in-my-soul
I loved the vets being excited to welcome Nara back into the circle. I also like them joking about finding something new to tease Patts and Tai about.
I loved Dream going to Nara and giving her a shoulder to cry on.
I loved Kung and Bow cheering for Tai and Patts new relationship.
I loved Tai giving Bow yet another cutting look to not get into his time with Patts and teasing her even as she was trying to exit the scene.
I loved Tai and Tien continuing their bit of poking each other in the face with Tien pouting at the end with “I’m your little brother!”
I love Patts’ grandmother passing these notes back and forth just because it was something her grandson wanted.
I love Saengnuea not even being sure if he should do the “don’t hurt my brother” thing with Patts because he’s younger than Patts. I also love him taking care of his brother’s cat so he could go on the trip and complaining that the cat wouldn’t reciprocate his love.
In so many ways this show is about how important it is to extend a little bit of kindness to each other. It’s about how far just a little bit of grace goes. What with Be My Favorite also saying something similar this week (@ginnymoonbeam), I am enjoying some of the themes in the more dramatic shows this year. So, “Please. Be kind, especially when we don’t know what’s going on.”
Thank you as always for coming to my post.
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chapter 5 of forever is a maybe (but i like our chances, baby) is up and posted and i'd just like to cut out what is some of my favorite dialogue from this chapter. no real spoilers either, just some Shenanigans!
“You could ask one of the assistant managers to get it for you,” Miyuki points out as Eijun leads you two into the lower levels of the stadium, where extra equipment, cleaning supplies, and other miscellaneous items are stored. Very little people are around, so the only noise is the soft sound of your footsteps, with the occasional squeak of the soles on the concrete floors. It’s a bit unsettling, but these sections are part of a larger area entirely off-limits to fans and the like, so it should be fine.
Eijun tosses a scandalized look over his shoulder. “That’s not what they’re here for, Miyuki Kazuya! Don’t be rude!”
“Sawamoron, you literally have two of them assigned to you to wait on you hand and foot. That is their job.”
“Well, I still feel bad! And don’t you see how creepy it is down here? Why would I want to make one of those poor assistants go through this? No! Strength in numbers!”
You chuckle fondly. “I’m not sure this park is old enough to have ghosts, Eijun.”
“You don’t know that! Gramps says we can carry ghosts with us sometimes.”
You frown. “Is that why I always see stuff in the corner of my eye whenever you come over?”
“Maybe!”
“Eugh.” You shudder.
Miyuki snickers. The industrial lights overhead flash over the lens of his glasses. “Don’t tell me you actually believe in ghosts. The country bumpkin I get but —”
“Hey, she’s like me! Tell him!”
You shrug. “I’m from Montana, which probably has more cows than people. I’ve been raised to respect the supernatural.”
He laughs hard at that. “Oh, my stomach hurts . . . You two are hilarious . . . Ghosts, please —”
As if on cue, the lights illuminating the long tunnel flicker.
“You’re upsetting the ghosts, Miyuki Kazuya,” Eijun whispers, annoyed, though he does take your hand, pulling you closer to him. “Say sorry.”
“I am not saying sorry —”
The lights flicker again.
“Kazuya!”
“Who am I apologizing, too, huh? What ghosts could possibly be here?”
“The ghosts of old!”
“Old what, you idiot?”
The look of incredulity on his face makes you want to laugh but you figure both he and Eijun don’t want you laughing right now.
“Old baseball, obviously!”
“What ghosts of old would want to haunt a place called T-Mobile Park? You think Babe Ruth is hanging around here when he could be at Yankee Stadium?”
“Kazuya!”
“Alright! I’m sorry, ghosts of old baseball!”
Another tunnel comes up on your right and all three of you flinch and skid to a stop when metal screeches loudly against concrete.
Several things happen in that moment. You, decidedly spooked, drop back at the same time that Eijun, using your left hand clasped in his right, pushes you back to stand behind him and Miyuki, while Miyuki’s left arm shoots out protectively over Eijun. In between all of this, somehow, your right hand ends up finding the back of Miyuki’s Nike track jacket, fabric clasped tightly in your hand.
A surprised worker meets your gazes, standing at the foot of a tall ladder, clearly having just moved it; at the top of the ladder is an open box in the wall, lines of wire exposed.
“Sorry,” the man says, getting over his shock first and gesturing to the box with a pair of pliers in his hand. “Electrical work.”
You know Eijun is sighing in relief at that but it’s not your imagination, either, when you feel Miyuki relaxing, too. Then you realize you’re still holding him and, with your face burning, you let him go.
He sends you a quick glance over his shoulder but you avoid his eyes awkwardly, shuffling closer to Eijun.
Looking back forward, he straightens his jacket. “Told you, Sawamoron,” he mutters, though it lacks any real heat.
Eijun ignores him still, saluting the man. “Thank you for your hard work! And sorry if we scared you!”
The man smiles, bemused, and shakes his head. “’S alright. No worries.”
The three of you continue on your way, all of you silently agreeing to not bring up any of that.
you can find the masterpost for this fic here!
#this is a little bit of a promotion but also i do enjoy the dialogue from this chapter A Lot and wanted 2 share#also kind of a sneak peek at what their dynamics might be when reader and miyuki make up :D#frmb**#miyuki kazuya#miyuki kazuya x reader#daiya no ace#ace of diamond#daiya no ace x reader#miyuki x reader#kazuya x reader
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Five Women Who Never Loved Brandir Son of Handir
Uhhh... so I've been sitting on this one forever, I don't know why. Enjoy my original author's note:
Five things fic, because I wanted to. This is the third five things fic I’ve started, but the first one I’ve finished. (Besides, the Handir one has sort of mushroomed into this weird 5+2 format and I don’t know if it even qualifies anymore.) So, until I finish Five Things That Never Happened To Nienor Daughter Of Hurin and Five Ways Handir Son Of Haldir Could Have Survived The Nirnaeth Arnoediad (And What Would Have Happened If He Hadn’t), have Five Women Who Never Loved Brandir Son Of Handir. Unapologetic shippy fluff, OCs, and odd pairings ahead. Well, odd pairing.
1.
Niniel
It’s spring when she comes to him and takes his hand and at first he doesn’t think anything of it because that’s what she does.
Then there’s a movement of her thumb against the back of his hand and when he looks up she blushes, though her eyes don’t skitter away, and he’s never seen her blush before, and everything changes.
There’s a nervousness in the way she bites softly at one side of her lip, and Niniel isn’t nervous – she gets along well enough normally, but she doesn’t have that sense of embarrassment other people do. She doesn’t fidget. She doesn’t blush.
But her face is flushed, and he wants to raise a hand and brush it against her cheek. He doesn’t.
Her smile is hesitant, and he’s never seen that before either. There are a lot of things he’s never seen.
“I think,” she says, and the smile still edges around the corners of her lips, “that maybe you love me.”
“Maybe,” he says blankly, and although his lips feel numb his voice comes hoarse from his throat.
“I think,” she says, “that maybe I love you.”
Maybe? he means to say, but there’s no sound. The smile dances back and forth across her face, barely there but clear enough.
“I don’t know a lot about love.” It’s half apology. “I can’t remember ever loving anyone.”
And maybe she doesn’t know enough, not to choose. He doesn’t think it really, wouldn’t think it if she’d chosen elsewhere, but he’s used to cutting back, turning away, making endless small sacrifices because that’s what he does, that’s what’s necessary, because his happiness is always second. That’s what it is to be chieftain, to be healer, to be –
To choose happiness is selfish, surely. It’s always felt that way.
“That’s all right,” he says, voice rough as if he’s swallowed a roomful of smoke. “We’ll learn together.”
2.
Moriel
Brandir knows Hariel a little, though she and her family live outside of the Ephel. She’s a trapper and her son’s a woodsman who knows his game so they come to trade. Her daughter’s never come.
“We brought her,” Moriel’s brother says, blunt but apologetic. “I would have come ahead to tell you but Onda wanted me with her. I’m better for calming her down.”
“They’re not fits of emotion,” the girl says clearly. It surprises Brandir; she’s kept her eyes down this whole time, shy or nervous. He can see now she’s a bit older than he thought, maybe only a few years shy of his own age of twenty-five. The shyness, combined with her delicate looks, had thrown him off by six or eight years.
“Getting upset never gets you breathing better,” Aradir points out.
That doesn’t help much. “Hariel mentioned you didn’t travel because of this ailment,” Brandir says, voice friendly and neutral.
“The dust makes the fits come on,” she tells him straightforwardly. “The dogs can’t come inside the house anymore or it happens. I can’t run at all. Sometimes if I get very upset,” she allows, although she quite pointedly doesn’t look at her brother.
She doesn’t look at Brandir either, eyes fixed on her lap, though her voice is far too firm to put it down to shyness. He’s had people avoid his gaze before, but never avoid looking at him entirely. Is it so disturbing –
No. He has a patient.
“Flowers in spring?” he asks.
“Eh, sometimes,” she says. “It used to be fine. I didn’t start sneezing like Aradir. But now it seems like I move and I start wheezing.”
“It wasn’t always like this,” her brother says, more matter-of-fact than worried. “But she started getting ‘em when she was near ten year, they just weren’t so bad then.”
“Sometimes I think I’m going to die,” Moriel says. “The air just won’t go in. It’s worrisome.”
If she’d looked at him even once since they’d come through his door, he would like her for that. It’s worrisome.
“I can examine you,” he tells her. “But I think I know already. I can’t cure it, but I can give you medicine for when it happens. You’ll have to put it in boiling water and breathe in the smoke.”
“Good thing there’s always water on the boil,” Aradir comments. Brandir pushes up from his chair, trying not to notice that Moriel turns her head away while he arranges his crutch.
“I’ll fetch you some,” he says. “But I’ll have to prepare more.”
He left the door open as he puts together a packet and after a few moments hears Moriel whisper harshly to her brother, “That’s the chieftain’s son?” He swallows hard.
“What about him?”
There’s a soft thwack. “You never warned me he was handsome.”
Brandir almost drops his entire bundle of dried herbs on the floor. He swallows hard and fixes the crumpled leaves properly inside the cloth packet and then makes himself walk back through the door before he loses his nerve. It feels a little like the world’s turned sideways.
He’s never been handsome before.
“You’d better keep these with you,” he says. His voice is too brisk, but he forces himself to look at her. “About half what’s in the packet in a pot of hot water, to ease your breathing. I can make up something that will make the attacks less likely, but they’ll still happen.”
“But we don’t really know for certain if this works yet,” Moriel says diffidently. She meets his eyes, briefly, and then her gaze skitters around the room before she focusses somewhere just above his left shoulder. Her entire manner seems very different. “On me, I mean. I probably shouldn’t risk an attack somewhere with no hot water anyway, until I’m a bit better.”
“That’s probably wise.” His voice sounds even, which is a marvel considering all he can really think about is that Moriel herself is very pretty and surely she’s had practice speaking to all sorts of men?
“Then I guess I shouldn’t leave just yet.” She forces her eyes back to his and smiles a little awkwardly, but her voice is more confident. “I suppose I’ll have to stay a while.”
“Ah,” Brandir says articulately.
Moriel’s brother grumbles something under his breath, and she kicks him.
3.
Lalaith
The dog doesn’t really look like a dog, but it’s clearly an animal of some kind. That doesn’t feel like much of an achievement, when his father’s birds are so detailed that you can identify the species even when they’re not the same size as real ones, but it’s… something.
Nienor plops down beside him, all carefree eight years of her. “What’s that?”
“It’s just a… thing,” Brandir says, setting it down.
“Lemme see.” She picks it up.
“It’s supposed to be a dog. It’s not very good…”
“I like it,” Nienor says decisively, putting it down again. “You should give it to my sister. She has all kinds of animals Labadal made her, but she doesn’t have a dog. Only wild animals.” She frowns. “Maybe there’s a wolf.”
“I’m sure your sister would be nice enough to accept it,” Brandir says, cringing at the thought of his rough effort next to that of a lifelong carpenter, “but it’s really not good. My father does much better.”
“I bet she’d like it,” Nienor says. “She likes you.”
“I know.” Urwen likes everyone. And everyone likes her, but she isn’t conceited about it.
“Don’t you like her?”
Brandir frowns. “Of course I like her. She’s very nice.”
“Then why haven’t you given her flowers or something? Girls like flowers from boys they like.” She frowns back at him in consideration. “You’re kind of a boy. You’re younger than Turin. Maybe you’re too old to give her flowers. You should give her a necklace or something. Or the dog.” She brightened. “Can you make a necklace out of wood? Or a bracelet? Do you think you’ll get married? Naneth wasn’t that much older than Lalaith when she got married. If you get married, can I be – ?”
Finally Brandir manages to drag his internal organs back into his chest from wherever they’ve disappeared to and stop her by waving his hands in the air in front of her face. It’s not very polite, but he’s having difficulty with words.
“That is not what I meant,” he says finally, as calmly as he can manage. “I like your sister. And I like you, and I like your father, and I like…” He hesitates. Morwen always makes him feel deficient, like he’s broken, not just damaged.
“Oh.” Nienor stares at the ground. “She’ll be sad.”
Brandir wants to argue with her – clearly she misunderstood her sister the same way she misunderstood him – but he can’t think what he should say first.
“Maybe you could like her?” Nienor suggests hopefully. “She’s really pretty, you know. And nice. And she knows lots of funny stories –”
“Why don’t you keep the dog?” Brandir says loudly. “Go on, I don’t mind.”
Nienor looks hurt – she hates being talked down to – but she takes the thing sullenly and sulks off, pouting, without saying anything else. Brandir slides down off his hillock and leans back against it, rubbing his hands over his face. Urwen is pretty and nice, and he likes her stories. And he really, really doesn’t want her to feel sorry for him, which she would if she heard about this conversation.
“I guess…”
He jerks upright. Lalaith is standing there, smiling a little sadly. “I guess things are different in Brethil.”
“A little,” Brandir says, feeling his heart shrivel up inside his chest. “Were you looking for Nienor?”
“She ran off towards the house,” she says. “I guess Mother doesn’t need me to fetch her anymore.”
“She said you had a whole bunch of little animals,” he offers lamely.
Urwen nods. “From Sador.”
Sador. Not Labadal.
“I guess… when Haladin girls want to be sweethearts with a boy, they just…” She makes a vague motion signifying action.
“I… yes, I think so…” He wouldn’t really know how it goes. He ought to stand up, while she’s standing, but his walking stick is too far to reach and he doesn’t want her to see the kind of hobbling he’s reduced to when he doesn’t have it.
“Turin told me about… um, I think it was Bariel…?”
“They don’t usually punch anyone in the face!” Brandir exclaims, humiliation momentarily forgotten. “That’s very unusual!”
Urwen smiles. “I don’t want to punch you in the face,” she says.
“I don’t want to punch anyone in the face,” he responds without thinking. Her expression shifts a bit, but she smiles again with effort.
“Right. I just thought maybe it was… Nienor was embarrassing you, but… well, I guess I was being silly. I’ll just…” She turns to leave.
“Wait, wait,” Brandir says, reaching out for her arm. It’s too far up and he gets a handful of the skirt of her pretty yellow dress instead. It’s soft. She’s a little bit like the dress, and that sounds stupid even in his head. “I can’t… um, I can’t…” He can feel himself going red. “Get up.” Just when he was thinking he hadn’t been humiliated after all. He can’t look at her.
“Oh…” She turns and fetches his crutch for him. His face is still burning when she hands it to him but instead of making some excuse and hurrying away she sits down next to him. After a little while he gets up the courage to look at her again. She smiles.
“I do still like flowers better than wooden bracelets,” she says.
4.
Daerwen
His first duty, after burying his father, had been to bear his condolences to the families of the other fallen warriors. There had been a great many.
It shamed him to think that he couldn’t remember most of those meetings clearly, but it was true. Even those who had been angry, insulting, reaching out for someone to blame and striking close to the places that would truly cause pain – ‘And where we you, safe at home?’ ‘How could you understand, you’re no warrior!’ ‘Do you think to purchase my support, thus?’ – blurred together enough that they, and their suffering, were no individual, distinct entities in his mind.
He should have done better by them than that.
“You probably don’t remember me,” the woman by the fireside said. She smiled, but sadly.
“I do,” Brandir told her. “Daerwen.” He refrained from listing her husband’s name, although they both knew that must be how he thought of her. He’d meant to hold the bereaved in his mind as people, to remember their sorrow, their anger or guilt or acceptance – instead, he’d only managed to catalogue them by their dead. Daerwen’s husband had been Harlas, a spearman, and he’d bled out during the retreat, but all he remembered of her was that she hadn’t screamed or thrown him out of her house.
“You are kin to Aradis, I think,” he said to break the silence. They could have been merely friends, of course, but there was a strong resemblance in Daerwen to Aradis’s grandson.
“She was married to a cousin of my father’s,” Daerwen said, faultlessly polite. There was something in her quiet manner that put him in mind of his mother, so he imagined there was steel underneath. “Though not a close one.”
That meant that Aradis’s dead daughter was Daerwen’s kinswoman and agemate. If she’d ever had children with Harlas, they likely would have played with Mireth’s orphaned son.
“How unfortunate,” he said, meeting her eyes steadily so she would know him sincere. “I am afraid such losses are common.”
“Certainly.” She peered into the soup-pot, and, apparently satisfied, rose and came to sit nearer him. “I stifle, the way no one ever mentions it. But I suppose it is different for you.”
He looked at her cautiously. The last time he’d been in this house, Aradis had tried to throw him out, but ended by weeping so hard he’d had to hold her bodily from the floor. She seemed to hold no animosity or embarrassment, only worry over her grandson’s injury, but he could never be quite sure of his reception in such places.
“Having no time to grieve, I mean,” Daerwen said. She gave him that smile again, sad and half-yearning but not melancholic.
“And yet I did anyway,” Brandir said, “somehow. It was greatly against my judgement but I fear I could not do otherwise.”
Her smile spread a little, deepening, and lost some of its bittersweet quality. He only got a brief glance before she turned her face towards her lap. “It must have lost its hold on you, if you can say such things.”
“I –” It was necessary he be able to speak without tears or the suggestion they might be coming. “I still miss my father very much, and very frequently. But certainly I am no longer prevented from… going onwards in my life.” Was she unable to do so? At least she wished to, which was a good sign.
“I wonder if… you could put it that way to Aradis? Going onwards. It sounds much… friendlier than the words she uses when I mention hovering less over her grandson.” Her jaw clenched. “Or that I would like to marry again.”
“I think,” he told her seriously, “that you are admirable. And I shall do my best, although I cannot meddle if she has no wish for my help.”
“Of course not,” Daerwen told him. “And I want to thank you. Just hearing someone say it’s not wrong to want to move past him… it’s a comfort. I knew that –” She stopped.
“If you need help – not just interference, but advice or conversation – I am not so far away.” He’d made the offer many times in the last year, although it wasn’t frequently accepted. “You are always welcome, as long as you can find me.”
“Thank you.” There was a pause. He could hear Aradis descending the steps in the other room. Daerwen smiled a little. “I knew that you were the right choice.”
5.
Nienor
The envoy leaves in two days.
It shouldn’t matter quite so much – things have been as productive as they can be, when Dor-lomin’s new leader has somewhat unreasonable expectations – but it does.
Brandir silently and emphatically calls himself a fool.
“Why the stormclouds?”
He laughs despite himself, although he’s startled Nienor managed to approach without his knowing. “The storm clouds?”
She shrugs, leaning against the side of his house. “Aerin used to say that when I was small. I fought with my mother… well, often. ‘Stormclouds’ was kinder than ‘royal sulk’, I suppose.”
“Are you accusing me of sulking?” He takes care to smile, both to dispel the impression and to avoid giving offense.
“No. I only wondered.”
“’An acorn for your thoughts’, we say here.” He gestures to the step. “You’re welcome to sit.”
Instead, she straddles end of the log he’s sitting on. Brandir turns to face her. She’s wearing a split skirt, and he can see she has leggings beneath it.
“An acorn for your thoughts.”
He shrugs. “Just wool-gathering.”
“They seem like unhappy sheep.”
That makes him smile. “Just heavy ones.”
Nienor frowns. “Wouldn’t that be a good thing? More wool? Or warmer?”
“I have a great number of responsibilities,” he offers, half-amused and half-exasperated.
“I suppose.” She sounds thoughtful. “When I first came, I thought you were a strange man by way of a leader.”
Brandir keeps his voice carefully neutral. He’s not sure what to think. “Did you?”
“I haven’t known many,” she acknowledges. “Just my brother, I suppose, and Brodda.” The thunderhead that crosses her face at that name is formidable. “But people still talk about my father. And there’s the Elf-king, I suppose.”
“The king of Doriath.”
“He as well.” He should have known she’d meant Fingon. The People of Hador were married to the Noldor. “Living, dead, good, bad… they all loved war, or their own authority, or both.”
Cautiously, Brandir ventures, “I never heard that Hurin son of Galdor loved either.”
“Didn’t you?” She sounds surprised. “No one ever speaks of him but the words ‘mighty warrior’ follow.”
“I grant you that,” he says, “easily! But a man may fight like the whirlwind and still bear no love for war. My father always spoke of his kinsman as a young man more in love with a jest and a song than with battle.”
She startles. “I suppose I knew they would have known each other – but I never think of it.” There’s silence for a moment. “When we first met, I thought you weak,” she says slowly. “Now, I think of going back to being surrounded by men who think strength is a sword-arm or the ability to command by force and I cannot think well of it.”
“I have always heard your brother a good man,” he says, although that isn’t entirely true. He’s heard nothing of Turin son of Hurin’s character – only his fighting prowess.
“He is,” Nienor says, almost sadly. “And he is an able leader, although I cannot say if he is a good one.”
That she makes a difference between the two strikes him forcibly, and both her discernment and the hint of praise hiding in the shadow of her words cause his heart to beat distractingly.
“But he’s what he was made,” she says simply. “I don’t know what kind of life it was, hunting orcs through the woods – but I sat in the Easterlings’ hall, and I have no love left for masterful men.”
The sadness of that – a reunion that is but a continuance of the separation – moves Brandir profoundly. He reaches for her hand, to offer what comfort he can, but as their fingers touch she raises her gaze to his, and it takes all his will not to freeze and thus betray himself.
“I have performed my duty to my brother well here, I think,” she says, forcing a ghost of a smile. “I will bear it out and bring back word – and then, I think, it will be done. And then perhaps – ” she glances so quickly at his hand over hers that he almost doesn’t see it, “then perhaps I may return.”
A/N: I wrote parts 1-4 Way Too Long Ago, and then finally finished it, I don’t know, two years back and immediately forgot that I’d finished it. So… Here it is now? Requisite notes:
1. Turin doesn’t exist. He never existed. The story still happened the same way up to this point because, well, it did. Or, Niniel blew him off because he was being really horrible to her friend. Or, he’s off living in a cave somewhere. Or similar. Whatever you like to imagine. :)
2. Handir is still alive and in charge here, obviously. He won’t die for about five more years per canon. Moriel has asthma (as you may have guessed). I described her in my notes once as being a ‘delicate princess with the soul of a drill sergeant’ which essentially means that not only will she fight you, but if you argue back you will look like an asshole. I like to think that when Turin arrives in Brethil she’s also pregnant, and Dorlas’s attempt to use him to unseat Brandir completely dies under the strength of Heavily Pregnant Woman Having An Asthma Attack Because Of You.
3. Some happy (or happier) AU or other where Brethil/Dor-lomin kids are fostered back and forth. Brandir’s staying with Hurin’s family. He and Lalaith are both sixteen. (I put in a backwards-math hint with Nienor’s age and then remembered that not everyone in the entire world has gone and memorized their age differences.)
4. Obviously the shippy part comes later. (Whoops, I guess it’s not all fluff.) But there’s a nice grounding of respect and friendliness and understanding and with a relationship that grows slowly out of that and out of shared grief and especially when accompanied by a dead spouse and requisite baggage (on one side) and political responsibility – and baggage! – (on the other) is going to, well, grow slowly, so the point that I don’t think a snippet from anywhere but much later would even look that much like a romantic relationship, even after it was one. Anyway. I may come back and poke this idea later and I may not.
5. Turin retook Dor-lomin, obviously. Nienor is the head of his envoy to Brethil. (His ‘unreasonable expectations’ are military support that would leave the Haladin with very precarious defenses; Brandir is sending supplies to rebuild and offers of trading instead.) A line I wanted to use but in the end couldn’t fit in: “Aerin, my mother… they all lived in Dor-lomin before the Easterlings came. They call it home, but for me, there’s nothing there but bad memories.”
#tolkien#brandir#brandir son of handir#nienor#my own work#fanfic#lalaith#misc men#silmarillion#unfinished tales#children of hurin#'onda' is my made-up casual term for 'mother' in the haladin's language#since moriel and her brother live farther away from the ephel and haven't been sindarized as much
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Here is me expressing to you my love for Saints and Liars (although not all of it because again space and time, but I hope I can express my love for this story effectively through words and virtually but hopefully one day in person it is super special to me and I hope you can feel that in this). Oh and spoilers of course. (Also I’m hoping part 1 of this went through it said it was received but then tumblr glitched so fingers crossed but if it didn’t please let me know I will resend it)
Saints and Liars: Dare I say this is my favorite story out of all your anthologies (so far at least)? I really think it is. Honestly I think I enjoyed this as much as I do your full length novels. THIS STORY IS PERFECTION. Cecily and Porter are EVERYTHING to me I’m actually obsessed with them and they altered my brain chemistry. Thank you for them.
Please enjoy a direct quote from my notes app the second I read the summary: “A WITCH GETS TRAPPED WITH THE MAN SHE’S PRETENDING TO DATE I’M ALREADY OBSESSED BASED OFF ONE SENTENCE IN THE SUMMARY I’M A HOE FOR FAKE DATING”. Also them being from a Midwestern town? Love. (okay so technically I am not from the Midwest because I am from good old and weird Pennsylvania and I’m sure if you asked a Midwestener they would probably say no and that’s fine. PA is a weird state we don’t have a geographical home other than the mid-atlantic because we also are not considered the east coast since we don’t touch the coast but clearly if you are from Philly you’re practically an East Coaster like Jersey is right there? These questions have haunted me all my life so I am very sorry for the side rant I will get back on track now. However, I am from the very western side of the state and I grew up like an hour or less from Ohio so I personally feel like some of the midwest culture/values exists in my town, so it was cool to see it!). I wanted to put this one on its own since it’s longer plus it’s not as organized as the others but I apologize for annoying you with all the many asks this time.
I don’t know what to title this section of this part of this so I’m just going to say extremely relatable content that I feel like you went into my brain and just took out of me:
“I do feel sad,” she mumbled in concession, glancing at anything else but his face. “And guilty, too. I’ve been gone for so long. I guess I just always thought time stopped around here, but obviously it doesn’t. I don’t know.” She eyed her hands. “I feel selfish for being upset but it’s hard.” “You’re allowed to have some sort of conflict about it,” Porter said,”
"And maybe," Porter continued, "you shouldn't bother feeling guilty. You're here now," he pointed out. "Why waste this time with her worrying about the things you could have done? Just...I don't know." He shrugged. "Be here. You know?"
“Porter cut her off, taking her face in both hands and giving her a long, searching look. “Don’t feel sad about time lost,” he said to her. “Just don’t waste a moment.”
Cecily and her grandmother’s relationship reminded me a little of my own in a sense. These three quotes were really relatable to me because I have also felt the same guilt she had about needing to leave the little town she grew up in. For me, I always wanted to leave for college and go out of state for myself, and I did and it was one of the best experiences I could have had for myself. But, at the same time my grandmother’s health was declining and she needed full time help since I was in about 5th grade or so? Growing up I used to be one of the people that were responsible for her on certain weekdays and weekends occasionally so I felt guilty for leaving in that sense. While I was at college it continued to worsen to the point where she needed help with all activities of daily living and every Christmas we all would be told “well this is probably Grandma’s last Christmas” (she lived way longer than the doctors thought she would and lived a full life, I can’t say her last years on the Earth were her truly living anymore but she was 96 and was surrounded by love and a true matriarch anyway side rant over again). With her being one of my favorite people, leaving each time for school knowing there was a huge chance she wouldn’t be there the next time was hard and I felt guilty that I wanted to be away from that place. So it became a big struggle sometimes and I don’t think I’ve really seen something like this expressed in words before but reading these quotes I was like wow YES THAT WAS WHAT I WAS FEELING.
Then the whole second part of just being here now and don’t feel sad about time lost and not wasting a moment was also how I dealt with being back in my town and getting to see her more often. I took every opportunity I could to go back up and say hi and make goofy faces at her to get her to smile and be a full time caretaker when they needed someone to fill in. Although sometimes I was a banker and not her granddaughter during the last 6-8 months of her life when I could be around her still felt meaningful to me and I’m glad that I could just be there with her without thinking about all the times I wasn’t. Anyway I am like tearing up writing that all but it felt cathartic. Also sorry sometimes I feel like we are friends so I just share my life.
Anyway, just yeah thank you for putting words to some emotions I felt.
Okay so some of my favorite moments that are way less heavy: From the second this man asked her to prom and she thought it was an obligation I was already screaming that IT’S NOT HE IS CLEARLY IN LOVE WITH YOU and I screamed when the idiot didn’t tell her that he would miss her. Evelyn cracked me up the entire book, her lines were 10/10, she is so funny. I love Porter, but the second he came up with his “plan” for revenge I literally wrote down “okay buddy sure, good luck with that you are clearly just going to fall back in love with her”. Porter is so smooth and has game truly I’m in love with him (he became one of my biggest book boyfriends bless you for him). Elenaor telling Porter to call her “Grandma Eleanor” ughhh I love it. His pretend poetry! Cecily just smiling at herself watching him work in the kitchen. HIS ENTIRE BODY ANGLING TO HER WHILE SHE TALKS AND BEING HIS ONLY PRIORITY AHHHH. THE WHOLE SCENES WITH THE STORM AND THE CAR ACCIDENT WITH HER IN A RED DRESS AND THE FORCED PROXIMITY AHHH SO GOOD (I’m literally screaming again just thinking about it). THE WHOLE SCENE OF THEM IN THE LIBRARY DRINKING ABSINTHE TOGETHER ON THE FLOOR AND EYES EACH OTHER UP WITH THE FLICKERING CANDLES UGH I WANT A FAN ART OF IT SO BAD (one day I will commission it that’s a promise) I’M OBSESSED. Him hating her boyfriend for no reason, ugh one of my favorite things. THEN THEY WENT TO THE GYM WHERE PROM WAS AND DANCE TOGETHER and him resting his chin on the top of her head and her resting her cheek on his chest while they are dancing (dance scenes are my kryptonite you literally do not understand how much I loved this scene I will also one day commission a fan art of this scene too). How he tucked her in his jacket!!! THE MOST IMPOSSIBLE MAN SHE’D EVER MET. Him remembering what desk she sat in during physics this many years later ughhh my man was down (and is down) so bad. THE WHOLE SCENE OF HIM TELLING HER TO BREAK UP WITH HER BOYFRIEND BECAUSE HE KNOWS SHE WANTS TO BE WITH HIM UGHHHH. Another direct fun quote from around this time in my notes: “PORTER IS SO FUCKING HOT I CANNOT I’M IN LOVE WITH HIM CECILY PLEASE JUMP HIS BONES “ I know it doesn’t really have to do with her but the fact that she was like “see you in physics I guess” which traumatized him and then him becoming a physics teacher was great (plus they did see each other and have sex in the physics classroom so full circle moment). “What do you want?” “You, Porter”. Him now knowing he can’t win unless she’s happy and trying to make long distance work ugh loved. He doesn’t want it to be pretend he wants it to be real and so does she ahhh. Forehead kisses and promises!!! Her grandma not being sick and just wanting her home because she was bored was so funny hahahah I did not expect that and I love it and her so much. His internal monologue stop “don’t go and please, if you do, take me with you” SO GOOD. SHE CAME TO SAY GOODBYE THIS TIME UGH. The frequent flyer miles!!! THE ENDING WITH HIM ASKING HER TO PROM AND HER SAYING YES THIS TIME (IN A RED DRESS NO LESS) UGH WHAT A FULL CIRCLE MOMENT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH YOUR HONOR LIKE SO MUCH
They had me literally kicking and screaming and giggling I love them so fucking much. They make me insane for real. I went on a deep dive and found Chmura’s three arts from this story and I DIED. They (her drawings and CecilyPorter) are BEAUTIFUL.
If you or anyone in your family ever needs an organ or anything I will happily give you one in exchange for a sentence more of CecilyPorter, I am desperate for more crumbs. Also so random but I am planning to take a picture with this story in a red dress with some (possible) absinthe-all depends if I can find a small bottle if not we shall pretend. I’m hoping to look hot in this (however, I am not a hot person so we will see if I can fake it for some pictures). Either way though I’m treating it as my birthday dress up as well as a way to celebrate this story. I’m planning to post it on my shared booksta as bday post (I’ll be 25 which seems crazy but I also have spent my whole life desperately wanting to be 30 so I am finally getting closer) so I will be sure to tag you of course to see the final product haha.
(Also cue me patiently waiting for Neelam’s fake dating book so I can scream about it because you write it so well)
Some quotes I enjoyed/reactions to them (there are a lot I really tried to narrow this down I promise):
“I have a boyfriend," she said again. "His name is Ansel. He's an artist." "That's great," Porter replied lazily. "What kind of art does he do?” "Murals, mostly. Street art." "Ah.” “Ah?" she echoed, turning sharply to him. "What's that supposed to mean?" "It's just a sound, Cecily," Porter said. "It typically indicates acknowledgement." "Oh, stop," she grumbled, rolling her eyes. "You totally did it with a...a thing." "A thing?" "Yes, you did a thing, you had an...inflection-" "Do you want me to have an inflection?" She glared at him, watching his mouth quirk with suppressed laughter.” KICKING SCREAMING OH MY GOD THE “DO YOU WANT ME TO HAVE AN INFLECTION” AHHH AND HIM BEING JEALOUS LOWKEY STOP AHHH
“You're okay, We’re okay.” His fingers had laced tightly with hers. HE WAS SO CONCERNED WITH HER AFTER AND THE “WE’RE OKAY” AND HOLDING HANDS AHHH I LOST IT FOR REAL
“Like my mother always says: if she can’t make time fun, she can at least make it hard to remember” LOL
“In answer, Porter merely slid the bottle from her hand, taking another deliberate sip, and she, to her dismay, couldn't not watch him. (Blame the absinthe, she thought, for whatever she'd say next.) "What if you'd gotten out?" came courtesy of lowered inhibitions, and Porter let his eyes slide pointedly to hers. "What if you'd stayed?" he countered, and she swallowed. They sat in silence for a moment or so, her heart thudding and her mind racing, and then gradually, an actionable thought occurred to her.” OH MY GOD OH MY OH MY GOD I’M SCREAMING AHHH
”She matters to you” “Not just recently. Always.” “Everyone has a light and yours is brighter around Cecily.”...“Cecily makes everyone’s light brighter.” GRANDMA ELENAOR KNOWS THAT HE HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH HER HIS WHOLE LIFE
“A job is not a life, Cecily” amen Grandma Eleanor
“Cecily nodded, sobering a little at the reminder. "I'm sorry to disappoint you," she began, but her grandmother cut her off with a shake of her head. "Go see the world, Cecily. Your happiness is all you owe me. I only ask that you remember where your heart is,” she said, reaching for Cecily's hand. "So long as you follow where it leads, my dear, you can never disappoint me." Cecily laced her fingers with Eleanor's, holding her grandmother's hand.” this quote makes me miss my grandma
“I just think you should know you’re not alone, that’s all. And don’t worry about your mom. She loves you; she wants you to be happy.” He swallowed carefully, adding, “And just because your version of happy and her version don't look the same doesn’t mean you need to feel guilty about it.” VERY TRUE
“Unhelpfully, Porter recalled at that moment how Cecily’s kiss had tasted like every happy memory he’d ever experienced all compiled into one, limitless moment. She had been the warmth of familiar autumn spices and the heat of July all at once. She had been bright and crisp and tender and soft and he had been trying for days to forget, even for a moment, that nothing had ever passed his lips with such unshakeable perfection as the breath he’d taken from that kiss with Cecily Ayers, who was now looking at him as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time.” WHO GAVE YOU PERMISSION TO WRITE LIKE THIS. LIKE IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL.
“It was only when she felt the comfort of knowing they were twined together at every possible axis of contact that she realized he'd been trying to pull her close, to keep her there, his lips finding her ear to say with painful gravity, "I missed you." She shivered, burying her face in the crook of his neck and breathing him in. She may not have missed him before, but oh, she thought with sudden anguish oh, she would miss him now. "Stay with me," she whispered, and felt his solemn nod before he drew her lips to his again, kissing her to mindless oblivion.” ughhhh my loves
“Cecily felt drunker than she had on Maggie Callahan's absinthe for the entirety of breakfast. Porter had taken every opportunity he could to touch her-hands on her waist while she sliced some fruit, a wink while he flipped the pancakes, lips against her shoulder while she charmed the dishes clean, fingers floating up her spine as he handed her a plate-and all of it was positively intoxicating, equal parts excitement and joy.” domestic cecilyporter are adorable!!!
“This was it, wasn't it? This was what had been missing with Ansel, with every other person who'd never managed to fit into all the little spare parts of her life. They had all been the wrong shape, too saturated one way or another to blend with everything she was. There was something about Porter, some shade of him that seemed to complement every little hue of hers. He felt like home, and for the first time, that seemed boundless instead of limiting. For the first time since her father had passed away, Cecily found a place she belonged in Saint Sturm, and not even her mother’s exuberance could ruin it.” THIS QUOTE OH MY GOD HIM BEING THE RIGHT SHAPE AND SHADE AND HUE AND HIM FEELING LIKE HOME AND THAT WAS BOUNDLESS AND SHE FELT LIKE SHE BELONGED UGHHH I LOVE LOVE LOVE
“Miriam’s not here, is she?” she asked tentatively, and Eleanor chuckled, shaking her head. “No, not now,” she said, “but try not to say her name too many times or she might spontaneously appear.” LOL
Anyway typing all of this made me miss this story a lot. I might need to reread. Thanks again for this I will always be indebted to you.
-Amanda ❤️
okay so flashback, when I realized I needed to write another story for witch way and it was going to publish around the holidays and I didn’t know what to write and I just wanted something easy, I was like okay, I shall simply STEAL elements of mr blake’s life and hometown and how it feels to be home for the holidays (cue “tis the damn season,” also in case you didn’t already know mr blake is from a tiny town in iowa three miles from the minnesota border. it has a lot of problems—an article recently came out about the way rural america fails women—but it does make a good setting, especially because the car accident from the story REALLY HAPPENED TO ME and it was terrifying). and it turned out to be exactly what I wanted, which almost never happens. we did it joe!
anyway it’s a very tropey story but what I fell in love with while I was writing was the multigenerational aspect with the various women in the coven/family, and I have always wanted to revisit that. so it’s nice to know the story is so loved, because aspects of it definitely are alive in my head waiting for the right occasion! also yeah porter can get it
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a bit more context to the story: the reason why she was going through a lot in the summer after senior year is because she had a pretty shitty relationship. there’s a LOT to that story, but basically, before it happened, he courted her for like a year, she didn’t really like him but he ~came from a good family so everyone (especially the one person in our friend group she’s still close with) told her to get with him anyway, I told her that I felt like she didn’t really like him, but ofc I supported her when they eventually got together. she wouldn’t tell us anything about their relationship, because this person’s family is pretty well known and she received a lot of attention from people in our class for dating him. when they got together, their relationship went to shit pretty quickly, but I was basically a hermit at this point (like, I wasn’t seeing members of my own family. I was pretty severely anorexic for years, and that was when it came to a head and turned into a different ED), so I wouldn’t have known. she didn’t ever ask me how I was doing either, but I can’t blame her for that bc who knows how I would have reacted if. do think she blames me for not being there during this time. when we saw each other again over the holidays, my friend and I told her about some concerning stuff we’d heard about him, and she got really mad (that we hadn’t told her earlier, that we were telling her at the wrong time, that it felt like we’d talked about it before telling her). our reasoning was that we wanted to tell her in person, because it’s not something you say over text. she was mad if we asked and also mad if we didn’t ask. during our conversation this summer, I apologized for the way we handled that, but it felt like was no way to tell her or not tell her without upsetting her. she’s pretty much changed completely after this, because she’s clearly traumatized by what happened. I understand that, and I really do have a lot of empathy for her, which is why I’ve made an effort, but at some point, it just feels like she doesn’t want a friendship. and that’s fine, but it hurts.
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His Bard and Her Rogue
Request: For the request I was maybe thinking something like Eddie x plus size reader, and the reader would be one of the theatre/choir kids? and she goes and auditions for the lead in the school musical/play and the student who is directing it is a dick and says she couldn’t be the lead cuz she is plus size and so Eddie finds out and and gives the director what for? ^-^
This was so much fun to write and thank you for all your advice while it was getting done!
Characters: Eddie Munson, Female Reader, random OC
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Warnings: Violence, Reader is upset
“Whoa, whoa, what’s going on?”
You step back, wiping tears from your face. “Sorry, Eddie. Didn’t mean to run into you.”
“It’s cool, but are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” You lower your head and don’t meet his eyes.
Eddie cups your chin gently and tilts your face up. “Hey. You’re clearly upset. Talk to me.”
“It’s so embarrassing.” You sniffle.
“You know every embarrassing story of mine. One of the perks of being friends since kindergarten.” He winks down at you.
“I can’t help it if you do a lot of dumb stuff.” You reply.
He laughs, still gently cupping your chin.
“I’m just saying, surely you can spare one embarrassing story.”
Maybe I’ll feel better if I just talk to someone about it.
He stares down at you, waiting.
“I confronted Peter and asked why I wasn’t given a role in the school play. I know I wasn’t the best singer but I thought I would at least get ensemble or something.”
Eddie looks surprised. “He didn’t cast you?”
“No.”
“That makes no sense. I’ve heard you practicing nonstop the past two weeks. You’re good. Annoying when you’re singing over my music, but good. I can’t believe he didn’t cast you.”
“Well, he didn’t.”
“What did he say when you confronted him?”
You lower your head again and mumble a response.
“Y/N, speak up.”
Damn it. He’s going to be mad.
“He said I’m too fat to be in the play.”
Eddie’s eyes narrow. “What?”
You sigh. “He said he has a vision for the play and wants everyone to be thin and athletic. I don’t fit into either of those boxes.”
“Are you fucking kidding me?”
“No. And he said it in front of everyone. I’m so embarrassed, Eddie. I have to quit theater now. I can’t face everyone after that.”
“Come with me.” He takes your hand and tugs you toward the auditorium.
“No, Eddie, please, I can’t go back in there.”
“Fine. Wait here.”
“What are you gonna do?”
He doesn’t reply as he yanks the door open and stomps inside.
You stand outside the door, listening for any noise. You hear Eddie shouting something you can’t quite make out, and other people yelling.
Oh God, what is he doing?
There’s a loud bang and you gasp.
Shit, I gotta get in there.
You fling open the door and hurry down the aisle to the stage.
Eddie has Peter, the director, by the shirt up against the wall, pointing a finger in his face.
“And if you can’t see how talented she is, you’re an idiot! You’re lucky she even auditioned for your stupid play!”
“Oh my God, Eddie, let him go!” You rush up on stage. Everyone is standing around looking shocked, but no one is helping. They’re all scared of Eddie.
Eddie whirls around and shoves Peter toward you.
“Apologize to her. Now.”
“I’m sorry.” Peter replies instantly, looking horrified. “I should have cast you. You have a great voice.”
“Tell her she’s stunning and you’d be grateful to have her in your play.”
“You are! You’re stunning. I’d love for you to be in my play.” Peter stammers.
Eddie yanks him back and gets in his face once more. “Good boy. Now if you ever, ever, upset her or talk about her weight again, I’m going to come back here and beat you into the wall. Your legacy at Hawkins will be to be a giant greasy smear on the brick, you hear me?”
“Yes. Yes.” Peter squeaks.
Eddie shoves him away. “Y/N, we’re leaving.”
He throws an arm over your shoulders as he leads you from the stage. Everyone is watching the two of you.
“Eddie, have you lost your mind?”
He doesn’t reply as leads you outside to his van.
“Eddie, what were you thinking? You’re lucky there were no teachers in there, you could have gotten into so much trouble.”
“I don’t care. Nobody talks to my girl like that, ever. He’s lucky I didn’t throw him off that stage and stomp on him.”
“Your…your girl?”
“Hmm?” He stares down at you, looking confused.
“You called me your girl.”
He goes red. “Oh, well, I meant like, my friend. You know, my friend, who’s a girl. My girl.”
“You could have gotten expelled, Eddie.”
“I told you, I don’t care. Nobody is going to make you feel bad and get away with it.”
“It was sweet of you. It really was. But doesn’t make what he said any less true.”
“What do you mean?”
You sigh. “Come on, Eddie. He was right. I don’t fit in with the other theater girls. They’re skinny and pretty and I'm…I mean, look at me. I’m huge.”
He shakes his head. “Stop that. You’re perfect.”
“I’m not. I’m nowhere near perfect.”
“Well, you are to me. I meant what I told Peter. You’re stunning.”
You blush. “You meant that?”
He nods and smiles. “Of course. I’ve always thought so.”
“You’ve never said that before.”
“I know.”
“Why haven’t you mentioned it?”
He sighs. “Because we’re such good friends. I didn’t want to mess it up by telling you that I’m crushing on you.”
Eddie Munson is crushing on me. Did I just hear him right?
You reach up and tuck his hair behind his ear. He tugs your hand away. “Hey, no touching the ‘do.” But he smiles and pecks your fingers.
“I like you too, Eddie. I have for a while now.”
His eyes widen. “You do?”
“Of course. You’ve always been so good to me. You’re sweet. You’re handsome. You have such a good heart.”
He wiggles his eyebrows and you giggle. “You think I’m handsome, hmm?”
“Of course that’s the only part you heard.”
He leans down and kisses you. You hesitate for a second, then grips his shoulders gently, kissing him back.
He moans low in his throat and his arms wrap around you.
“We should have done this years ago.” He mumbles as he breaks the kiss. “I’m stupid for waiting this long.”
“I suppose you’ll just have to make it up to me.” You tease and he grins.
“Looking forward to it.’
#eddie munson#eddie munson fanfiction#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson fic#eddie munson ff#eddie munson x reader#plus size reader#eddie munson x female reader#eddie munson x you#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson oneshot#eddie munson drabble#eddie x reader#stranger things#eddie munson fluff
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hii love, love your fics so I just had to request again! Could request a Kaz andd reader where he says something mean to her without meaning it but shes really sad an stattes crying to jesper and he gets angry and tells Kaz to apologise? Angst with a happy ending,please!! Thanks a ton darling💗💗
Forgiveness (Kaz Brekker x Reader)
thank you for requesting again! school has been kicking my ass, so sorry for how long writing this took, but I hope you like it! :)
Warnings: mentions of catcalling, (small) injury, idk?
Genre: angst to fluff
Word Count: 1910
To say you’ve had a shitty day would’ve been an understatement.
Heading to the White Rose to see Nina, you’d been catcalled multiple times. Maybe you were being dramatic, but the comments felt more scathing than usual, and it had gotten under your skin quicker than you thought it would. You didn’t want to use Kaz’s reputation to scare them off, but it wouldn’t have mattered. You’d still be viewed as a possession, just one that didn’t belong to them.
You had snapped at the last stranger who’d given their perverse ideals of you, and that altercation had left you a lovely slash on your arm from defending yourself. You had temporarily wrapped it up on a scarf, but you knew you would probably have to wrap it with gauze on it when you returned.
When you had asked the clerk where Nina was, he said that he’d seen her leave, but she said nothing to him. Which meant the entire journey here was a waste, and that you’d have to head home without her guaranteed cooperation with the plan your boyfriend was creating.
“Kaz, she’s not there. Clerk said she went out, but he didn’t get where. It was a waste of a trip,” you sigh, throwing down your cloak on a random chair.
Kaz sighs, lowering his head as he writes out another part of the plan. “Really, Y/N? You couldn’t go out and look for her? She told us a couple days ago that she was going to start taking trips to the market at this time. You could’ve found her there.”
“I’m sorry?” you scoff quietly, but try to adjust your tone at the icy stare he gives you. You could’ve said that nicer, sure. “I didn’t think to look for her there because I didn’t know that, Kaz. Are you sure she told us that?”
“Yes, she did. Were you not paying attention?”
“I don’t think I was there,” you refute. “I would’ve remembered if she told me.”
“I don’t have time to talk to people who can’t do their jobs,” he mutters. “Just get out and waste time for now. Let me finish what I’m working on and we’ll find her together later.”
“The hell you mean I can’t do my job?” you protest. “I did what you asked. I went to go look for her, and she wasn’t there. I thought your instructions were not to stray from my path, because you wanted me home quickly and safely.”
“If you had any shred of common sense, then you’d know that I’d only say that because I’m supposed to care about you. I’d take information over your safety.”
You still. What?
He’s supposed to care about you? Does that imply he doesn’t? He would take information over your safety.
Does he want to break up?
Stop being dramatic. Kaz doesn’t play implication games with something like that. He’d tell you outright.
But he wouldn’t care for you if he got what he wanted.
“I-um, oh,” you take a shuddery breath. Your chest feels tight and your eyes are going to water. Kaz hates dealing with over-emotional people. He needs people who can keep their cool, people who can think their way out of things. You need to get out of here before he looks up at you. You’re useless, you’re an idiot, no wonder he said you couldn’t do your job properly.
Too late. He looks up at you, frowning at your silence, but you quickly turn away, still trying to hide your face.
You laugh, and even you can tell that it’s not genuine, just an attempt at trying to hide your wavering voice. “I’m fine, Kaz. Uh- yeah, yeah! We’ll go out later and-” your throat catches as you swallow harshly. “We’ll go out and look for Nina later. See you then.” You quickly brush your tears out of the way, opening the door and stepping out.
Your steps echo down the hall, and you try and find your way to your room through the tears that now stream down your face.
I’d take information over your safety.
You still don’t know if he means it. He’s angry, but- Kaz was usually extremely candid when he was upset.
He might’ve meant every word.
You don’t notice Jes in front of you, and as you pass him, he catches your arm.
You wince, his fingers land right on the slash, and he hastily lets go, looking at you with concern. Everyone was usually about as emotional as a rock in the Barrel. What made you cry like that?
“Y/N, you okay? What happened? Why did you flinch from me? Did I do something wrong?”
His face resembles a kicked puppy, and your heart constricts with slight guilt.
“No, no- it’s not your fault, Jes- your fingers landed right on a slash I got, that’s all.”
He looks at his hands, covered in slight blood. You tug at your soaked-through scarf and look at it, and it looks even worse than when you first got it. Your grimace. So much for getting him to worry less about you. “It looks a lot worse than it actually is.” Your words are frantic and stuttered, but you hope he gets the point.
“How did that happen? I thought with Kaz’s reputation, you would be untouchable. Why isn’t he taking care of you?”
You smile sadly. The mention of Kaz tightens your chest again. “Guy scrapped with me for a little while after catcalling me. I didn’t want to use Kaz to defend myself- me, with him? He’d be even more of a target. And Kaz is a bit upset with me right now. He doesn’t know what happened.”
“Why the hell would he be upset?”
“I didn’t get the information he wanted,” your voice is small and weak. “And he said he’d rather have the information more than my safety.”
“Which is why you’re crying.” Jes’s face has a look of understanding.
“Yes,” you affirm quietly. “Today’s just been a bad day. I’ll be alright, though, really. I know Kaz doesn’t like dealing with weak people, so I thought I wouldn’t bother-”
“You’re not weak.” His voice gains a complete new edge, and his face is determined. You suddenly get a bad feeling. What’s Jes going to suggest you do? “We’re going to go confront him. Right now.”
“Jes, I look like I’ve been crying. I’d at least like to compose myself a bit.”
“No.” He makes sure he’s grabbing your other arm, before leading you back to Kaz’s office. “He needs to know how much he’s fucked up. He’s smart, but really,” Jesper sighs, “He’s an idiot. And you deserve better than that.”
Your heart warms at his words, but you’re still nervous as he leads you down the hall, and you’re definitely panicking when he opens the door without knocking.
Kaz looks up, and a brief look of surprise is in his eyes as he looks at Jesper. Why didn’t Jesper knock? And why would Jes need him, especially at midday? Wouldn’t he be out gambling?
Kaz prepares himself to hear something stupid. He doesn’t notice you standing behind him, and his attention drifts back down to his plan.
“What do you need?”
“Apologize.”
“For?”
“For being a bloody idiot and hurting your girlfriend.”
Hurting you? He looks back up to him, and this time, you’re standing next to Jesper.
“I didn’t-” Kaz starts, but your appearance makes him go silent.
Your expression is blank, but tear streaks clearly stain your face, and you clearly look like you don’t want to be confronting him. Jesper had put you up to this.
Were you too afraid of him to do it yourself?
What did he do for you to look like that?
“You didn’t do anything?” Jesper’s voice is incredulous. “She went to the White Rose to try and find Nina, and then you come home and treat her like she’s useless because she doesn’t get what you want. She’s your girlfriend, not a goon. Have some respect for her, yeah? She followed exactly what you said, to try and get home quickly and safely, and even then, she still gets hurt. Did you even notice the bleeding gash?”
“Jes,” you whisper, “it’s fine, really-”
He doesn’t listen, and grabs at your wrist to lift your arm, pulling down the scarf and revealing the bloody cut. Kaz blinks, concern and guilt briefly flashing on his face before he smooths back his expression.
How didn’t he notice? How did that happen?
“Y’know how she got that? Men were harassing her, and she fought one of them because she didn’t want to use your name as her shield. She was trying to prevent painting an even bigger target on your back. And then you go as far,” Jes laughs angrily, “as to say that she’s not worth more than information for your fucking plan? And through all of that, she leaves you alone because she doesn’t want to be an inconvenience to you. Your girlfriend thinks her emotions are burdening you. Get your fucking head out of your ass. Either you apologize to her, or she’s breaking up with you.”
You and Kaz are both left standing still, both watching as Jesper stalks back toward the door, opening it and slamming it shut.
The sound echoes through the silent room.
You don’t know what to say. Part of you feels vindicated, Jesper did the hard part for you, but part of you feels guilty- Jesper also made it a lot bigger than it could’ve been.
You let the guilt win out.
“I’m sorry, Jes’s wording was a bit harsh, I’ll take my leave, it’s really not that big-”
“Stay,” Kaz interrupts. “Please.”
You sit down on the chair next to his, and he turns to you, pulling out gauze and alcohol wipes.
“I can do it myself,” you say hurriedly. “I know-”
“You’re not a burden to me.” He avoids your gaze, he doesn’t want to see your reaction, in case he really would lose you after this. “Let me help you.”
“Okay.”
You hiss through your teeth as he cleans the gash, a small “sorry” escaping him as he continues. There’s still a silence hanging between both of you. He wraps it carefully, looking up at you when he’s done.
“Not too tight?”
“No,” you answer quietly. “Thank you, Kaz.”
There’s another silence between you.
“I care about you,” he says suddenly. “I wouldn’t trade your safety for anything.”
You know it’s his way of saying sorry.
“It’s okay,” you give a reassuring smile. “I know. I’ve just had a bad day, that’s all.”
“It’s not,” he argues. “If you ever need to defend yourself, use my name if it’ll get them to stop. I don’t care if it paints whatever sized target on my back.” You open your mouth to interject, but he continues. “I’m already a wanted criminal in Ketterdam. However much you increase the target by doesn’t matter, so long as you come home alright.”
“Okay,” you nod. “I will.”
“I love you, darling.”
Your eyes widen at his words. He doesn’t say it often, he knows that you already know that.
Jesper must’ve really shaken him.
“I love you too,” you reply softly. “Thank you.”
It’s his turn to look surprised. “For?”
“For caring,” you respond. “For being you. For loving me.”
A faint smile etches on his lips. “I always will.”
#shadow and bone#grishaverse#six of crows#six of crows x reader#soc kaz#kaz soc#soc x reader#kaz x reader#kaz brekker x reader#kaz brekker imagine#jesper fahey#thank you for the request!#request
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Mandomera Week 2022 - Day 7
Prompts: Forgiveness/Envy
Note: This one-shot takes place in my A New Creed Universe and was written for Mandomera Week 2022.
No warnings.
Read my Din/Omera backstory here.
Word count: ~800 words
AO3: NewPath3432
————————————————————
Something was… off…
“Is everything alright, cyare? You seem… upset…” Din didn’t consider himself all that skilled in understanding others’ emotions, but Omera was stiff in his embrace and clipped in her welcome - very unlike the warm greeting he usually received when he returned from his missions.
She looked down and replied quickly, “I’m fine…”
“No, you’re not - I know you better than that. Is there something going on? Did I do something?” Din was puzzled. He couldn’t be the problem, right? He’d been away for the past several weeks��
She frowned before responding, such a strange expression on her usually bright and cheerful face. “You were gone for a long time… and you didn’t comm…”
Hmmm… that wasn’t really so unusual, and she’d never been bothered by it before. “I’m… sorry… I didn’t realize it bothered you - I just get distracted by the mission…”
She looked up at him and smirked slightly. “By the mission, huh?” It sounded like an accusation.
“Yeah, by the mission. What else would I be distracted by?” Din was honestly just downright confused now.
She looked him square in the face, clearly challenging him now. “Not by your lovers?”
Din was physically taken aback by that statement. “Lovers? Omera, there are no… lovers… What are you talking about?”
“You could have women on every planet… And I could be just one of them… You’re away long enough…” Now he understood her strange tone… it sounded a lot like jealousy - of these nonexistent paramours.
The assertion was utterly ridiculous. How could she think that? He gently grasped her shoulders and spoke with some concern. “Hey… Where is this coming from? You know that’s not something I would do…”
She softened a bit, less accusing and sounding instead more insecure. “Do I?” She paused. “I heard some of the ladies gossiping about us… saying that I was probably just one of many… because why would you be so interested in a widowed mother on a backwater planet?” She paused again, losing her composure a bit. “And they made legitimate points… You’re away often and for long periods of time… visiting exotic places… and you don’t communicate much - probably distracted by someone younger and more beautiful…”
He stopped her there, shifting his head to meet her eyes. “Omera, I promise you that there are no lovers… I only want you… I’ve only ever wanted you… You know this.”
She still looked unconvinced, so he continued.
“Well, in all honesty, there is one…”
Omera looked down, her fear confirmed.
“She’s beautiful… one of the kindest people I know… She lives on a little krill-farming planet in the outer rim…” Omera finally lifted her eyes to meet his gaze, realizing her stupidity. “I think you’d like her.”
“Kriff,” she muttered. “I’m being so ridiculous. I’m sorry, Din.” She hid her face in her hands, completely embarrassed, but he pulled them away and replaced them with his own, bringing her forehead to his and chuckling with amusement, forgiveness granted.
“It’s alright, cyare. I’d be lying if I said I never worried about the same.”
She met his eyes again and finally smiled. “There really aren’t any other prospects here, Din.”
“Are you saying that you only wanted me because no other men were available?”
Omera laughed and pulled him in, voice nearly a whisper. “I wanted you…” she leaned closer. “Because the beskar is so kriffing attractive…” He laughed against her lips as she kissed him in apology.
“Well, now I feel objectified.” He spoke in monotone - that dry humor only those who really knew him recognized as comedy.
Omera leaned in close again, grinning. “I like what’s underneath even better.” She paused, processing what she’d just said as Din raised his eyebrows in surprise. “I didn’t mean for that to sound so suggestive… though I suppose the sentiment stands either way…”
He smiled at her then, genuine and brimming with affection, and the truth hit her like a ton of bricks. She knew his smile. He’d removed the beskar and the helmet for her, made himself vulnerable for her. He chose her. Not another living soul in this galaxy had been granted this kind of trust. Who would she envy? She was the fortunate one.
“Omera, you are the only one there’s ever been. There’s nobody else - and there never will be. Okay?”
She nodded, bringing her hand to his cheek to run her fingers over his beard for a moment, admiring his handsome features. She didn’t respond but let her actions speak for themselves as she pulled him backwards into the bedroom with her and brought her mouth to his, finally welcoming him home properly.
#mandomeraweek2022#mandomera#din djarin x omera#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian fanfiction#newpath3432
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Don’t Worry, Darling (one-shot)
Synopsis: Falling in love with a co-star is something that can hurt, especially when it seems like they’re talking to other people behind your back, but falling in love with a co-star and being unable to help when they’re sick, is even worse.
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT
Warnings: COVID-19, sickness, swearing, SMUT (fingering, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))
Word count: 11 968 (yoikes)
Please note I’m not trying to make light of the pandemic or the virus and those impacted by it. It’s a very real and serious thing, which is why I decided to use it. Please stay safe and healthy, follow the local health guidelines and if you have the ability please get vaccinated. Let’s keep ourselves and one another safe, frens :)
When Y/N got the call she’d gotten the role of Jack’s ex-wife who’d disappeared in mysterious circumstances, she was over the moon. As a Marvel alumnus, she was excited to work with Florence, as she’d loved Midsommar, and knowing she was going to be one of the new faces carrying the next Marvel chapter, she wanted to get to know her. Having played Tony Stark’s adopted daughter since the age of six, she was very protective of the franchise but was excited to see where it’d go.
Then Shia LaBeouf, Chris Pine as well with Dakota Johnson’s announcements coming soon after, Y/N got even more stoked, and with Olivia Wilde leading all of them, she was sure the movie would be a hit.
Shia and Dakota had to drop out due to scheduling issues (which Y/N couldn’t lie – she was kind of happy Shia couldn’t do it), and that's where Harry Styles took over the role of Jack with Kiki Layne Dakota’s Margaret.
Now, when Y/N had seen Harry’s picture next to the re-cast e-mail the whole production had been sent out, she might’ve had a little (a massive, like a ginormous) freak-out. As much as she’d grown up listening to classic rock, due to Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man, she’d been an avid One Direction fan. Like to the point, it might even seem a bit creepy. Y/N had sort of grown out of the obsessive phase of it all, but most definitely admired the solo albums they’d been able to produce, and when Dunkirk came out, she was excited to see Harry join the acting world, with the amount of talent he had.
The first table read was sort of awkward, and definitely the weirdest one, given how a pandemic had started, and everyone was at their respective homes using Zoom.
Y/N and Florence had been the first to join the conversation about half an hour before the official beginning, and by the time everyone else did, they were crying from laughter and had to excuse themselves from their computers to collect whatever remaining composure they had.
“You two alright?” Oliva Wilde had raised her eyebrow, as the women re-joined, still chuckling. “Will we have to use body doubles for the scenes you two are in?”
“No!
“Nohooo!” both of them yelled through laughter. “We’ll be as professional as professionals are. Which is very professional.”
Then Y/N made the mistake of glancing at Florence’s square, and the two busted out laughing again, spewing apologies in between, but no one seemed to really mind. In fact, it looked like they appreciated how casual and open everyone was being, hoping the set wouldn’t be stiff either when they moved onto filming.
And for the two women, it wasn’t really. Actually, they grew closer than ever. The amount of time Florence spent in Y/N’s trailer was to the point that the two started to talk about just moving in together. After scouring the nearby apartments for rent, they settled on a three-bedroom apartment, as two-bedroom ones were non-existent.
When Harry grew closer to them as well, given how he spent quite some time with both women, they suggested he move in as well.
“You know, what? I changed my mind. You’re taking away our closet, and I don't like that,” Y/N pouted, watching as Florence lifted a pile of her clothes and moved it to her room. “That’s not very ‘treat people with kindness’ of you.”
All he did was flick a finger at her forehead, which Y/N swatted away with a smile. When he’d double-checked about moving in with them (which, mind you was the seventh time, and half his stuff was already there), the two women were ecstatic. They got along amazingly on set and basically having a sleepover with friends every night suited all of them quite well.
At that moment, Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed, knitting while Harry painted all of their toes and Florence put on facemasks.
“Wine!” Y/N suddenly exclaimed, almost knocking over the light blue nail polish bottle as she jumped up, throwing her needles back on the bed. “We need wine!”
“Do not ruin my masterpiece!” Harry hollered after her, as she waddled away on her heels, toes separated by foam and hight up in the air. She even had to manoeuvre around the carpet to avoid any hairs and fibres that could get stuck inside the still wet lacquer.
It took her a second to find a bottle all three of them could enjoy, given their tastes were so different – Y/N preferred sweet and red, and didn’t care if it was a three-dollar bottle from Target, Harry had a bit more of an expensive pallet, giving preference to something with a more of a lingering aftertaste and in the higher ranges of price point, while Florence liked rosé and white wines.
Taking two glasses in one hand and the bottle with a third glass between her fingers, she shuffled back to her room when she heard the two muttering something in low voices before Harry whispered harshly, “I’m not telling Y/N that!”
“Won’t me what?” Y/N’s question made him and Florence spring back where they’d been engaged in a heated conversation when she re-entered the room, putting the wine bottle and glasses on the nightstand.
Florence waved her off, giving her a smile, she didn’t believe in. “Nothing. Now come on, Harry will do your fingernails now, and I think it’s about time the mask came off.”
And that’s when Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d been in the industry long enough to know how fake people could be, how they could put on smiles so inviting and friendly while hiding their true intentions behind them. She just didn’t think two people she’d found so genuine and sweet would be like that.
And the thing was – it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the two whispering like that and hushing up when they saw her enter the room or even come somewhere near to them.
In the beginning, Y/N had chalked it up to the two being closer, given they had to spend more time together, so they knew one another better, but this time sort of solidified it wasn’t the fact the two were closer, it had to deal with Y/N specifically.
So, she started to distance herself. She’d had enough users in her life to last her for the rest of it. Y/N excused herself from the movie nights they had on most Fridays, she no longer joined in on the cooking sessions and mostly spent time in her room, or on work calls.
When she re-entered the flat, four weeks after their falling out, they watched as she nodded to them, and went inside her room, closing the door, much like she’d been doing for the past thirty days.
“Do you think she knows?” Harry asked, brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he hoped the doors would open, yet, obviously, they didn’t.
“Well, I haven’t told her, and unless you did, then I doubt it…”
Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna talk to her.”
“You think it’s a good idea?”
“No, but if she’s upset maybe she needs to talk to someone.”
“Or maybe she wants to be alone.”
Harry bit his lip thinking over Florence’s words. When he was upset about something, he himself did like to kind of retreat and become a little bit of a recluse, to sort out his emotions before anyone else tried to jump in and help with it, but the thing was – Y/N’s distancing started the night when she’d walked in on the two of them arguing, and it’d been about the girl in question herself, so he shook his head. “I’ll just ask if she’s alright.”
He took a deep breath and went to enter the room he hadn’t seen in almost a month. “Hey.” Harry poked his head through Y/N’s door, making her swirl around in her chair. She looked adorable to him. She’d changed into a big fluffy nightgown, the hood up, a headband pushing hair away from her face with a green facemask covering her skin. The domestic life flashed through Harry’s head like a freight train, as it was something he craved, but pushed it away. There was no daydreaming before figuring out what was in front of him in reality. “You okay?”
“ 'M fine.” She shot him a quick smile. “Why? Did Olivia send something new for the script?”
“Um, no, ‘s just you’ve been, I dunno – detached a bit?”
“Look, Harry… I may be younger than you, but I’ve been in this industry longer than you or Florence.” Y/N stood and shrugged before crossing her arms. “And the thing is – I don’t care for shit like that. So, you two can gossip and whisper and talk whatever you want about me behind my back. Everyone else is doing that so, you’re not that special. But’ I’d prefer if you did it somewhere else besides my room, my space, and I’ll say this once, but very clearly – we’re not friends. I don’t need friends like you. We’ll be civil and we’ll do our jobs, but…” Harry’s heart broke at her eyes, seeing the pain in them as she nodded and made sure he understood where she stood. “We’re not friends.”
She didn’t leave any room for argument. When Harry left, Y/N didn’t even look over her shoulder to see him exit.
The next couple of mornings she didn’t see them leave nor come back, seeing as Y/N had the week off from filming, but the morning of the seventh day was awkward as hell, given how all of them had to go and get tested, and well, they had their allocated time slots one after the other. Usually, they’d take one car together, but this time, Y/N drove off on her own, while Harry and Florence carpooled on their own.
The tests were always nerve-wracking. If one person went down, the whole production did for at least two weeks. And as much as she hated going in alone, she was glad no one was with her in the car, because as she stepped out, a certain notion swept over her that this would be a lot different than usual.
A doctor dressed head to toe in protective gear motioned for her to sit down, as another processed her ID and work ID. Her leg was bouncing up and down the whole time, and he eyed her. If she could see his lips, she was sure they’d be pursed. “Anything wrong?” He handed her back the IDs before moving to the table where a set of large q-tips seemed to lay in sterile packs.
Y/N sighed, biting her lip and nodded. “Woke up with a sore throat and a small cough appeared on my way here as well. I wiped and cleaned everything down at the apartment I’m staying at and wore gloves and a mask the whole time.”
“Anything else?” the doctor asked, writing down each word as Y/N said. “The feeling of breaking bones, fever, muscle pain, eyes hurting when you look up, lost sense of smell or taste?”
“No, nothing like that. Just a sore throat and a small cough.”
The doctor let out a large sigh, probably from having to wear a full-on hazmat suit. “Alright. Just for safety reasons, so we know who’s a potential contact person, who are you staying with?”
“Florence Pugh and Harry Styles. We’re renting an apartment together.”
“Do you know if they’ve had any symptoms?”
“No,” Y/N shook her head honestly. “And I haven’t really interacted with them this past week, as they’ve been on set, and I didn’t have any scenes to film, and by the time they get back, I’m already asleep, and I’m still asleep when they leave so there’s been no direct contact. We have our own kitchenware, so there shouldn’t be any direct contact. I think.”
That last bit was half-true, seeing as she hadn’t been asleep when they came back, but she might as well have been. The second Y/N heard the door click, she’d place her headphones on or leave the room, only glimpsing the two faces falling as she did that.
The doctor clearing his throat and motioning for Y/N to open her mouth so he could take a swab and then to do the same for both her nostrils, was what brought her out of it. She was so used to it, it was like nothing at that point. “Okay. We’ll need you to stay in the car while the test is being run, and if it comes back positive, you’ll be placed in a separate flat, as to not endanger the rest.”
Her ‘alright’ was barely audible. Fuck. It just felt like the universe was against her. First, the two people she’d gotten closest to were whispering behind her back and being fake to her face, now she might have a super contagious virus to which there was no medicine really, nor was there a vaccine, let alone the thought she’d have to miss filming for potentially more than two weeks.
The thirty minutes of wait were agonizing, her leg bouncing up and down. Y/N’s eyes kept watching the line of cars slowly move forward through the tent and then settle behind hers. She knew Harry was about five cars away, and she was glad he wasn’t closer. They weren’t really allowed to get out of their vehicles while the tests were being run, and Y/N didn’t think she’d be able to not look back at him through her review mirror.
Two more minutes passed when finally, one of the med students in the full hazmat suit came up and knocked on her car window.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
“Yes?”
“ID please.” It was standard so that no med info got leaked. The only reason she had to rummage through her stuff was, because she’d bite the little plastic card in half if she didn’t throw it somewhere deep inside her bag.
“So.” The man sighed, and he didn’t need to elaborate. Y/N understood, but still, he had to confirm it to her. “Your test came back positive for COVID-19. The production has been informed, and for safety reasons, everyone will have to self-isolate for two weeks.”
Y/N’s head slammed against the back of the seat. “Fuck. Okay.”
“Because so far, you’re the only positive case, you’ll be placed into quarantine. We’ll need the address you’re staying at, and if you need anything from your apartment, we can send someone over to grab a few things. You’ll have to follow the black SUV right there.” He pointed further down the lot where indeed a black SUV stood. “They’ll take you to where the quarantine apartments are. Is there anything immediate you’ll need?”
“I – uh – I need my pills, my birth control that is. I take it every evening. Computer, chargers. That’s the most immediate I can think of. Maybe some food? I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast.”
Even through the mask, Y/N could see the man smile. “Well arrange that. In the meantime, here’s the number for the coordinators who’ll get you the rest of your things and deliver them to you.”
“Thank you. I’ll call my assistant, and she’ll drive down to the apartment. She knows where everything is.”
“Have you been in close contact with her?”
“Just through the phone. She hasn’t been on set in almost a month, as I told her only to come when it’s an emergency… Guess this is it.” Y/N let out an awkward chuckle.
And truly that was it. With one last motion as to where the SUV stood, she started back up the engine, reversed out of the spot and followed the car to where the ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ production had set up a few quarantine apartments, specifically for actors and crew, speed-dialling her assistant Anna and letting her know of the situation.
“Shit, girl,” she’d cursed. “That sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Okay,” Anna huffed. “Do you have a spare key for the apartment by any case or do I need to go down to the lot and ask Harry or Florence?”
“Both of them will be at the apartment, given how everything’s shut down, so they should be able to open the door for you. Hopefully, if both of them are negative. If not, call me, I’ll tell you where we hide the spare. Thank you, Anna.”
“Of course.”
As Y/N pulled up behind the SUV, a man and a woman in face guards and masks stepped out. She ended the call and stepped out as well, pulling on a cloth face mask, an envelope in their hands, which they handed to her.
“Your flat’s on the third floor, 367. When you have the list of things you need, forward them to us, and we’ll gather your things.”
Y/N nodded and gave them a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
With a sigh, she took her bag and entered the complex. As much as she’d only had a small cough in the morning and a sore throat, walking up those flights of stairs made her winded more than it usually would. Maybe it was the knowledge she had a sickness, or maybe it was stress about missing work and putting everyone on lockdown, or maybe it was the combination of it all with her falling out with Harry and Florence on top.
She placed the key in the lock and twisted, revealing a studio type apartment, and it was so bare it made her heart clench. As much as she felt awkward being around Florence and Harry, their flat was a bit messy, had little pieces of clothing thrown around, giant knitted blankets on the sofas, a candle always lit whenever someone was home. Harry’s shoes were typically all over the place while Y/N’s make up was scattered around everywhere. Literally. Florence and Harry had gotten back early one morning from a night shoot and found her looking under the sofas for one of her lash glues as she started to get ready for the day. They’d made that flat their home for the time being. This… this was nothing like that.
She threw the keys on the small kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket. They was going to be a long two weeks. At best.
***
Back at their place, Florence and Harry were pacing around, having heard the news that someone was positive, and everything had to shut down for the time being, yet Y/N was nowhere to be seen when a knock at the door disrupted them.
Harry was there and flinging it open in a matter of a second, only to be stopped by Anna instead of Y/N.
“Hey.” His brows furrowed as she and two people all wearing masks and gloves entered. “What’s going on? Is Y/N alright?”
Anna sighed, nodding her head for the two strangers to go towards the woman’s room. “She was the one who tested positive for the virus. Gave me a list of the things she’d need while in quarantine. We’re here to pick ‘em up and get them to her.”
“And she’s not doing that here?”
“Per the safety instructions, she’s been placed in a separate flat in self-isolation.”
“She could’ve done that here. We’d be fine with it,” Florence butted in, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re more than willing to take care of her. She’ll need someone to help her.”
“You both tested negative.” One of the people piped up, carrying a box of books and yarn. “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to quarantine separately until she’s no longer infected. She’s under the supervision of doctors, and she knows if an emergency happens, they’ll be there in ten minutes tops. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”
Harry sighed, nodding as the people exited their place, but before Anna could leave, he took hold of her bicep. “Hey, can you please tell her to call me? I just wanna talk.”
“I uh – ” Anna furrowed her brows, showing Harry that Y/N hadn’t said anything to her about the falling out they’d had. “I’ll uh, yeah. I’ll do that.”
With that he was left to close the door and just wait for… anything.
***
In the two hours Y/N had spent in the apartment, she already felt like going insane, having been left alone with her thoughts, so how she was going to do another two weeks after finally getting back into the rhythm of work was beyond her. She didn’t have any of her knitting supplies, didn’t have any of her books (yet), and most likely there was no reason to look at her script anymore, as she’d made up her mind about a lot of things.
There was a knock at the door, and Y/N instantly had a mask on her face and gloves on her hands. She peeped through the peephole and when she saw boxes lined in the hallway, three people in masks and faceguards at least six feet away, only then did she open the door and give them a wave.
“Everything should be here, but if you need anything else just pop me a message.” Anna then pointed at a bag that sat atop everything. “There are the most important things, so you don’t have to rummage through everything and a pizza is on the way while I do some grocery shopping for you. And umm, there’s a paper you need to sing that you know you need to be in self-isolation and that you understand what happens if you’re not.”
Y/N hoped all of them understood she was smiling underneath the mask, grateful for having them help her out like that. “Thank you. So much.”
She rushed inside found a pen and signed it, moving between the boxes to place the papers on the stairs so that they could be safely retrieved. With that, the two assigned people left, leaving Anna to say goodbye.
“Call me.” She pointed at Y/N. “No matter what, even if you just wanna talk for five seconds.”
“Will do.” Y/N nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “If I could, I’d hug you.”
Anna sighed, cocking her head. “Same. And umm, Harry told me to ask you to call him.”
“Yeah, uh thank you.” She knew he probably wanted to talk, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise, but it still made her stumble on her words. “Take care, Anna.”
“You too.”
***
The next two days Y/N spent worrying as to how to present her decisions to the cast and crew. She felt worse with every hour, and with that had come her thought process, but as much as everyone was going to be impacted by what she was going to do, Olivia would be the one dealing with it most, so later that night she hopped on a Zoom call with her director.
“Hey, girl.” Olivia gave her a warm smile, and Y/N almost melted. God, she loved that woman. She was like the older sister she never had. “How are you doing?”
“I’m alright. Feelin’ kind of woozy from time to time, throat’s killing me, and I’m fairly certain I’m getting abs from how much I’m coughing.” That made both of them chuckle before Y/N bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she sighed, looking at Olivia. “The reason I called you is that umm… well, I think it’d be a lot more cost-effective for you to re-cast me. We’ve barely shot one scene with me. I’ll be out of commission for two weeks, as a minimum. It could get worse. And I’m definitely not going to be back before I get two negative consecutive tests.”
Olivia shook her head, running down her hands over her face and then through her hair. “Y/N, I really don’t want to do this. There’s a reason we cast you. You’re amazing, and yours and Harry’s chemistry is off the charts. We’re all quarantining for two weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time, back on set and killing it like you always do.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Of course, I do! Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”
“All I’m saying it could take up to a month to get those two negative tests. By that point, you could’ve shot at least a fourth of my scenes. Olivia…” Y/N gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you know I’m right. I hate to pass on this, but I won’t hinder the production. If you want my input, I’ll help with the re-casting, if it takes the guilt away.”
“I still feel like shit this is an option we even have to consider.”
“’S not your fault. You didn’t get me sick. We should be happy it’s just me, not someone else or more than one person.”
***
For two more days, it was radio silence from Y/N, and Harry and Florence were anxious messes. If they could distract themselves from the falling out while on set, then now, having to be cooped up inside the apartment with pretty much nothing to do, was so much worse, not to mention Y/N declined all of their calls and left their messages on read, leaving the only option for checking in either through Anna or what she decided to share on her social media, which wasn’t a lot. But the thing was, Harry knew his best bet was to call Y/N in the middle of the night. Disorientated and barely awake, she probably wouldn’t look at the caller ID once. And he was right.
A bleary face appeared on his screen, eyes squinting as she tried to block out as much of the light as possible. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy, and Harry’s heart clenched at just how much pain her throat must be in, let alone how she was feeling as a whole.
“Hey, there, lovie.”
It took her a second to comprehend the person who was speaking, and she’d be lying if she said hearing Harry’s voice didn’t bring her some sort of joy. “Hey, H. Are you alright? Why are you still up?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about you.”
Y/N hummed, rolling on her side, and immediately regretting it as the action elicited a coughing fit. “Yeah?” she asked hoarsely. “ ’Nd what about me?”
‘How shitty I feel about everything’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m so fucking terrified’, but instead he asked, “How are you doing?”
“Alright,” Y/N croaked out before her body was racked with coughs once more. Harry’s own chest hurt just hearing them. “Fever’s finally down, so I’m getting some sort of sleep. Throat’s killing me though, and they’ve hooked me up to an IV. They’ll be coming in two hours or so to change the bag. How are you?” she asked quietly. “How’s Florence?”
“She’s alright. Upset. Just like I am.”
Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Why’re you upset?”
“Are you kidding me? You’re sick, alone in quarantine and… and we can’t help you. I can’t help you.”
A genuine chuckle escaped her. “Didn’t know you had a medical degree, Styles. Could be my personal nurse. Fetch me my water and shit.”
“No, but at least I’d like to be there for you.”
“Harry…”
“I like you,” he said after taking a deep breath, hoping that the break he’d heard in Y/N’s voice as she’d said his name wasn’t just because of the sickness, but because her heart thudded just as fast as his when he thought of them together, that her mind reeled with the possibilities of where their futures could take them and that whenever they touched, she could feel the electricity that ran through his fingertips, igniting his whole body. “That’s what Florence and I were whispering about all the time. Is that I’m madly crushing on you, and I couldn’t gather the courage to say it to you.”
A strong coughing fit made her drop the phone on the bed and lean over, as she gasped for breath, and through it all, all Harry wanted was to be there. Fuck him possibly getting the virus, as long as he could make it easier for her in some way.
“ ’M sorry,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible as to not aggravate her throat. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, there’s nothing to apologise. You’re sick, you can’t help –”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I assumed you and Florence were talking bad behind my back. I never should’ve done that. And this is not an excuse, I’m not trying to shift the blame from being in the wrong, but I like you too.” She gave him a shy grin that he thought was as bright as the sun. “I really like you too, Harry. I think that’s why it hurt so much to hear you two whispering ‘bout something. And thinking it was about me, and it was something bad, hurt even more, ‘cause I really connected with Flo, and I kinda, well I kind of fell for you. Hard.”
“You did?” His tone was like he didn’t believe what his ears were hearing.
“Yeah. A lot actually… I – I really like you, Harry.”
He couldn’t explain how his heart expanded in his chest while simultaneously was being crushed by his inability to help, by the distance between them, while the hope that glimmered in his eyes at Y/N’s words made her heart break as much as his was, when he asked, “So you won’t resign?”
“Harry,” Y/N made her voice as tough as it could sound with her condition. “I told them to re-cast me not because of you. I’ve been on enough sets and worked with enough pricks, and still gotten the job done. Genuinely, this is not because of you or Florence. I just – I just don’t want to hold up production. You’ll all be out in what – twelve days or something? I’ll be here for at least twice that, if everything goes the way it’s going right now.”
“I don’t want anyone else to play Larie. You are my Larie,” he muttered, which made Y/N smile, but in a true Y/N fashion she just wanted to make others feel better.
“You do know Jack murders Larie in the middle of the night.”
Harry’s mouth opened like a fishes’ while Y/N’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “That’s – that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”
Both of them were laughing now, all tension having evaporated.
“I know.” She bit on her lower lip. “But um… we’ve gotta be practical. I sent Olivia my resignation letter already, and she signed.”
She saw Harry sigh and throw back his head at her words.
“ ’M sorry, Haz. I didn’t want to but –”
“I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “You always put everyone before yourself. God, this just sucks major ass.”
“Trust me,” Y/N started before being interrupted by another major coughing fit. “I –,” she took in a breath. “I know.”
Her heart cracked seeing Harry’s face and his green eyes, the eyes she’d gotten lost in more times than she’d ever admitted being lined by tears. “I wish I could help you.”
“But you are. Just by – by talking to me, by keeping my mind off things. You’re helping me more than you’ll ever know.”
“When you get out, I’m taking you on a date.”
Y/N couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. For the first time in a while, she felt good, despite being sick. “Is that a threat, Styles?”
“It’s a fucking promise.”
That night she fell asleep listening to Harry talking, seeing as it became harder and harder for her to do so, so he just took over, telling her stories that lulled her to dreamland where he was there, and she could touch him.
The following days she also had calls with Florence and the rest of her cast to explain the situation, but she wasn’t doing much talking anymore, and one night they’d even seen her almost throw up from coughing so much, which broke everyone’s hearts. They were lucky the only Covid case before Y/N had been a light one, so witnessing just how brutal it could be, made everyone appreciate what they had, but at the same time, feel as helpless as ever.
A week and a half in, that was when shit really hit the fan. Despite her feeling shitty the previous days, now Y/N woke up from the feeling as if she was drowning. She’d fallen asleep while talking with Harry on FaceTime, his features illuminated on her phone. At first, she thought it was just her dream still lingering and causing that effect, but when after a minute or so her lungs still remained on fire, she knew she had to dial the doctors.
In five minutes’ time, an ambulance was at her door, and it was a miracle she’d been able to get out of bed to open it because the second she did, her whole body pretty much collapsed into the arms of one of the nurses.
***
“Come on,” Harry muttered into the phone, pulling on a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and a knitted sweater he took from the floor as he immediately tried to redial her, having heard the call drop. “Come on! Pick up, Y/N!” Her voicemail answered instead.
“Damn it!”
It took Harry seven minutes with the way he was driving to get to her assigned isolation place, only to be greeted by red and blue flashing lights, an ambulance right in front of the entrance, and it took Harry five seconds to feel his heart drop as a team of three doctors wheeled out a gurney on which lay Y/N, face covered in a mask, an IV stuck inside her arm while a huge plastic cover domed over her body.
Without even thinking about himself or his safety, Harry jumped out of his car, rushing towards the ambulance.
“Sir.” One of the doctors extended a palm towards him, keeping him back as Harry tried to get towards the inside of the car. “Sir, you can’t be here.”
“Is that Y/N?” Harry felt like he was spinning out of control, and his mind was dizzy from not being able to take in a proper breath. “Is – is that Y/N?”
“Are you family?”
“I –,” Harry so desperately wanted to say yes, to say he was her boyfriend at least, but he couldn’t lie. “No, I’m just her collegue – friend! I’m her friend. Is she alright?”
“Okay, well is there anyone we can contact from her family?”
Harry nodded, knowing that her mum and dad were on her emergency contact lists. “But her family is out of the country, and they won’t be able to fly out with all the restrictions in place.”
“Alright.” The doctor sighed before looking back inside the car. In a way, Harry was happy he couldn’t see Y/N because he was sure if he did, he’d completely break down and crumble to the ground. “We’ll contact her parents, but if you could leave us your number as an emergency contact on place that’d be a lot of help.”
“Okay, uh…” Harry took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then let it out before reciting the number he used while in the USA and his permanent UK number as well, so he could be reachable anywhere and at any point in day or night, no matter the time.
�� “Well keep you up to date.”
And with that, the ambulance doors shut, and they rushed away, the vailing of sirens echoing in the dark night, leaving Harry with a hand in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and without a clue as to what to do.
***
In the end, Harry had gone back to his car and cried for what felt like ages, but instead, it was just twenty minutes. He pulled himself together but was still shaking as he made his way back to the flat where Florence basically ripped open the door. Seeing his face told her everything she needed to know.
“She’ll be alright,” the woman muttered as she soothed Harry by rubbing a palm up and down his back, letting him hide his face in her shoulder. “It’s Y/N. She’d pull through an atomic bomb.”
They spent the rest of the night and the following day on the couch, glued to Harry’s phone waiting for any sort of updates. From time to time a text message came from the hospital letting them know what procedures were being done on Y/N, that her parents have been informed, and if necessary, they’d allowed Harry to be the main contact person because of his proximity to their daughter.
Three days later and the quarantine for the rest of the cast and crew ended, yet when they returned to the set, everyone was in low spirits. Especially, Harry – he was miserable. Every moment spent not reciting lines or acting was occupied with the thoughts of Y/N, how she was doing, was she improving, was she still breathing, how he wanted to just ditch everything and run to her, to help in whatever way he could.
“This sucks,” Florence grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as they took a break while re-setting already in for the fifth day of filming, eight since Y/N’d been in the hospital. “Can’t believe they won’t allow a phone in with her.”
“It’s the same policy for everyone, but trust me,” Harry sighed and looked up at the bright blue sunny sky above. “The number of times I got out of my bed in the middle of the night and had the car keys in hand is ridiculous. And the number of times I’ve thought about breaking into that hospital is even more concerning.”
Florence let out a small chuckle and nudged his shoulder. “I’d cover for you if you did. As long as she doesn’t have to be there alone.” She hung her head, blond strands falling down to curtain her face. “Can’t imagine how scared she must be.”
Harry just sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could say.
Something vibrated in his pocket, but he no longer furrowed his brows when unknown numbers called, knowing it was from the hospital. It was nerve-wracking though to pick up the call each time because he had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of bad news, even though he always hoped for good ones.
“Yes, hi. Hello. I – oh,” he put a hand over his mouth and sagged down onto a chair. “Oh, thank god, thank you, doctor. Yeah. Yes, I’ll let her know, and someone will be there to open the flat. Thank you again. For everything.”
He took away the phone from his ear and stared at the ground for a minute before leaping up and hugging Florence, laughter escaping his mouth.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s the opposite. Y/N’s out of the hospital.”
“Oh thank god!” Her hands flew to hug him back.
“She’ll have to stay in self-isolation until the two negative tests and will be monitored by the doctors, but she’s out.”
Immediately he was dialling her, and Harry had never been as happy for the invention of a video call, because when he saw Y/N’s face light up the screen, as tired as she looked, it was the most beautiful sight that graced his eyes.
“Hey, lovie.” His voice was soft and low as if anything louder would worsen her state.
Her ‘hey’ was barely audible, but he heard it, and it made the weight of a boulder drop off his shoulders.
“I’m so – I mean we all are so happy you’re back home.”
Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I’m happy too,” she whispered. “I missed you. Missed everyone, but most of all I missed you.”
Harry was happy they were separated by a screen because if she was anywhere in a five-mile radius, he was sure she would be able to hear his heart beat out of his ribcage at her words. “How are you feeling?”
“ ‘M alright,” Y/N tried to let him know. “Very tired.”
“Then get back to sleep, lovie.”
Y/N shook her head. “Wanna talk to you.”
“I’ll keep talking,” Harry promised. “Like we did before, okay.”
“Okay…”
And so, he did. He kept talking as Y/N listened, and he watched as her eyes slowly closed before she drifted off to sleep. Even though Harry had to go back to filming, he didn’t dare end the call. He’d never end the call.
***
It took a month and a half for Y/N to get those two consecutive negative tests, to feel somewhat human again and when she did, she probably garnered at least seven speeding tickets with how fast she was driving down to the set.
It was the most inconspicuous outfit she could scramble together, consisting of a hoodie and baseball cap, as she watched Harry as Jack lean down to peck the actress’s lips, then step into the vintage car and rev out in the driveway, while a dishevelled Florence started the scene from the side, eyes racking over Jack’s first wife, who was dressed the exact same way, hair styled like hers and even nails painted the same, her character putting all the puzzle pieces together.
“And cut!” Olivia yelled across the lot, nudging Y/N’s side and giving her a smirk. “He’s gonna freak. You’re all he’s been talking about on set. We almost had to put a ban on you as a topic,” she muttered that part so only the woman could hear while telling everyone to re-set, so they could do the scene from another angle, but not before asking the three actors to come and look at the monitors so they could understand how to move in order to keep the continuity.
Y/N moved to the side, ducking her head down as Harry, Florence and Mandy, the actress that took over her role, all leaned closer to watch the monitors. Y/N had to bite on her lip to keep the grin away, as all of them analysed their movements and the scene, nodding along to what Olivia was saying.
“Y/L/N, what do you think?” Olivia asked, grinning.
Y/N stepped forward a bit, seeing all of their shocked faces through her peripheral, as she pointed to the screen, lifting her head so that everyone could see her face fully. “I think it’s great, you might want to step to the side a bit more, Harry, when –” but she was unable to finish the sentence as he swooped her in his arms, lifting her basically off the ground, and burying his face in her neck.
“Watch the hair! Daniele will have a fit if you ruin her masterpiece!” Y/N laughed, holding one of her hands on the base of his neck, the other tightly wrapped around his shoulders, but he just shook his head, and she could feel tears splash her skin.
“Fuck the hair!” He let out a small chuckle, and she could hear the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much. I was so scared.”
“Same,” Y/N whispered. “Missed you like crazy. And your stupid, unfunny dad jokes.”
“ ‘M hilarious, lovie, what are you talking about?”
He finally set her down but didn’t let go of her waist, and she smiled cupping his cheeks. “A true comedian, that’s what you are.”
“I know. Why’dya think I got that SNL slot?”
But his eyes, as he gazed into hers once more glassed over.
“Hey,” Y/N cooed wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, cause then I’ll cry, and we’re both gonna be crying messes, and then these guys will have to deal with that.”
Harry sighed, leaning into her touch. “Happy tears, lovie. All happy tears.”
The two looked at one another as if there was no one else in the universe. And for the two of them, there really wasn’t. Neither had to say what was on their minds, they already knew.
His face was inching closer to Y/N’s, and heart started to beat erratically, not that Harry minded, as his palm rested in the middle of her back. In fact, his own heart mimicked the rhythm, but it stuttered when someone behind him cleared their throat and interrupted their moment.
Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest as he sighed at Olivia’s raised eyebrow.
“You’ll be able to smooch as much as you want, but we need him in hair and make-up.”
“Oli-“
“Now,” she let out a small laugh. “Before Daniele removes my head from my shoulders.”
“Go,” Y/N patted his side. “I’ll still be here.”
“Is that a threat?”
She grinned up at him. “A fucking promise.”
Harry dashed away like lightning, hoping that the quicker he was done, the sooner he could have Y/N back in his arms even if it was for a second, but her attention was taken by a woman with long blond curls, a flowing green slip on her figure; her steps unsure as was the wave she gave her, but Y/N’s heart melted at the sight of her.
“Hey, Flo,” she whispered and brought the girl in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto her, trying to convey how much she regretted her words and actions, especially because they were unwarranted.
“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, and she nodded.
“Me too.”
Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“And I should’ve made sure Harry pulled his head out of his ass.”
That made both of them laugh, and it was nice to do it not only without having to cough up her insides, but to do it with someone she’d connected with and had become great friends with.
“He did that. I just hope if he wants to make another move, it won’t take me dying to push him to.”
Florence pointed at her, a serious look on her face. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he does.”
A small noise of someone clearing their throat from behind Y/N took both of their attentions for them to go onto the actress who’d been cast as her replacement, the woman coming forward and extending her hand for a handshake with a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”
“ ‘S very nice to meet you.” Y/N tried to give off as open and accepting of a vibe as much as possible, because she genuinely wanted Mandy to feel respected and that she wasn’t a threat. “Before you think anything if you’re worried about me taking the role, don’t. It’s all yours, so don’t worry about that. I just stopped by ‘cause I hadn’t seen anyone in almost two months. Never thought I’d say this, but fuck did I missed people.”
Mandy shook her head, her smile a lot lighter and brighter now. “I – uh thank you for that actually. I’m a huge fan of yours, and well, can only try and live up to what you would’ve portrayed.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll absolutely kill it, and I can’t wait for the movie.”
It was great to see Mandy’s shoulders drop in relief. “Would it be too much if I asked for advice on the role?”
“No,” Y/N laughed. “But I would say that you should make this role your own. It is yours. You are Larie now. And Harry’s Jack. Make it yours.”
As she said that, she turned to watch Harry who was practically bouncing on his feet, green eyes flitting back to where she was standing, and when their gazes met, neither could help the smiles blooming on their faces.
“You know he messed up a scene once and said your name?”
Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked over at Mandy. “What do you mean ‘said my name’?”
“It was a kissing scene. The wedding bit, actually. As Jack and Larie recited their vows, and he leans down to kiss her, he was supposed to say, ‘I’ll love you Larie, until the very end’. He said your name instead.”
That hit Y/N more than a semi-truck wheeling a ton of bricks would. Yes, she knew Harry liked her, and he knew she liked him, but love was a big word, and for him to admit that, whether it was a flub or not, was even bigger.
Harry was a private person. While he openly talked about what he felt, he guarded heart at the same time, much like Y/N did. But she had to wait until Olivia yelled cut for the day, and had to watch him make a mad dash for hair and make-up before running to the dressing trailer as he didn’t want to miss out on a second he could spend with her. Even as they walked up to their shared flat and he opened the door, his fingers stayed intertwined with hers.
“How does it feel to be back?”
“Kinda shitty, honestly,” Y/N laughed throwing the keys to the table and shrugging out of the jacket and taking off the cap, Harry immediately helping her and putting it on one of the racks. “I’ll have to move out, now that I’m not part of the movie.”
“Why? ‘S not like the production is paying our rent, we’re doing it out of our own pocket.”
“Yes, but now that I don’t have a job, I kinda need to look for one.”
“And what says that you can’t live here while you do that?”
“I –,” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I mean nothing, really… I just… kinda thought because I’m not part of the movie anymore it’d be safer if I found my own place. But um… I think I have something else I’d like to talk about. Mandy,” Y/N dragged out her name a bit, a sly smirk appearing on her face, “told me you had a flub on set.”
Harry’s heart was pounding underneath her palm where she’d grabbed onto the lapels of his dress shirt, so he couldn’t run away.
“I’ve uh,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a couple of flubs on set. Who hasn’t?”
“I don’t doubt that. But she said you misspoke a name.”
She made him look into her eyes and wouldn’t dare let their gaze break. “You said my name during the wedding scene. You said Y/N. Not Larie.”
Harry looked like a cross between a deer in headlights and a fish out of the water, eyes wide with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out, which made Y/N worry a bit.
She placed a palm against his cheek. “Harry? You alright?”
“I – I meant it.” He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “And when I thought back on it, I don’t remember seeing her face or Larie’s face. It was yours. And the lips I was kissing belonged to you too. I was holding your hand, and you were holding mine. And I know it’s way too quick, for a wedding -”
“Unless you threaten me with it –”
“I –,” Harry stuttered before laughing, all tension evaporating from his body. “No, that I don’t want to be a threat. That will be a question asked with love and hopefully an answer given to it the same way.”
Y/N nudged his nose with hers. “Well, we’ll see. I mean if you don’t kiss me what makes you th–,”
But she didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before his lips were on hers, pressing with such gentleness, it made her weak at the knees, and she would’ve crumbled if Harry’s arms handn’t woven around her middle, fingers pressing into the sides, the pressure increasing with each second their mouths were connected.
Harry’s hand drifted up Y/N’s back and settled on her neck as if he could pull her any closer, her own palms slipping over his stomach, pecks and grabbing onto his jaw, fingers lightly scratching at the stubble that’d grown throughout the day. He had to shave every morning for the role of Jack, but each evening she’d see a small, darkened shadow across his skin, and Y/N would be lying that when she’d realised her attraction to him, she hadn’t thought about how delicious it would feel to have it leave small burn marks on the inside of her thighs.
Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs, trying to create some sort of friction which became more and more unbearable as she felt Harry moan into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her lower lip, asking for permission without words, which Y/N granted without a second to spare.
It was heavenly to have him so close to her. She did wonder if the sensation was intensified by the fact, she hadn’t been able to touch anyone properly for almost two months, but that thought vanished when his fingers skimmed underneath her hoodie, brushing against her heated skin. No. It was because it was Harry.
“I –,” he was breathless as he pulled away, but Y/N didn’t let him get too far, her lips attaching themselves to his neck, making him groan in pleasure. “I don’t want to push this too far.”
Her brows scrunched up, as she took a look at him. “What do you mean? If you think I don’t want this, then let me be perfectly clear – I do. A lot.”
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking glad you do, but… Y/N you just got out of the hospital, where you were on a ventilator. I don’t want to make anything worse.”
“Not your choice to make.” A devious smile appeared on her face, as she stepped a few feet away and lifted her hoodie over her head, making Harry inhale sharply. “So here are your two options.” Her hands went behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it slowly drop to the floor, the green eyes that hadn’t left her now wide as saucers. “Number one.” She toed off her boots and popped open the button of her jeans. “We can stop this, obviously, just say the word, and I get to my room, start packing and looking for a new place. We can have some dinner and just chill. Or number two.” Y/N hooked her jeans behind her thumbs and slowly dragged them down her legs, revealing more and more of herself to Harry. “We can go inside your room and make up for the lost time. In every position imaginable, for as long as you want. But.” Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief as she made her way to Harry’s room. “I don’t think you wanna take the first option.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair, turning it from the meticulously gelled hairstyle into a mop of messy strands. “You know you’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman.”
Y/N swayed her hips a bit more as she took another step closer to his room, the door meeting her back, and one of her hands went to the doorknob, pressing down on it. “Well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date, and definitely not like that.”
He stood there, hands on his hips, eyes not leaving her body, as she cocked her head. “So, what’s it gonna be?”
They were ten torturous seconds for both, hearts beating out of their chests, but it only took three steps for Harry to cross the hallway, his hand sneaking behind Y/N’s back and pressing down on the doorknob as well, revealing the inside of his room. It was messy, much like her own, but it wouldn’t take too much to rip all off the tossed around bedding leaving a whole bed to themselves.
“You. Are. The. Devil.”
Her smile was nothing short of wicked. “I mean you can listen to the angel on your shoulder.”
“I’d rather listen to you.”
Together they stepped inside, and Y/N nodded. “Making good choices already.”
“Can’t get on your bad side, can I now?”
“I mean you can.” Her legs hit the back of his bed and she fell down on it, Harry leaning over, resting his elbows next to her head. “But bad boys get punished.”
His nose skimmed over hers. Now he was the one smiling like a devil. “I’ll hold you to your word. For future reference, that is.”
That kiss was nothing like their first. This was messy, and passionate, all tongue and teeth, hands grabbing everywhere possible to get the other unclothed. Or at least that’s what Y/N was trying to do, seeing as she was pretty much naked already, and Harry was the one still wearing too much.
Her hands pretty much ripped open the shirt. It one of his expensive Gucci ones, she was quite certain of it, but it didn’t seem like he cared, as he shrugged it off, throwing it to land somewhere on the floor.
Y/N sighed into his mouth as her hands were now freely allowed to run over his chest, over the ink embedded into his skin, over taut muscles that relaxed under her touch, and dig into his sides in an attempt to leave her own marks on him, much like he was going to do to her.
“Think you can take your pants off? It’s only fair.” Y/N muttered into his mouth and his own travelled down to her cheek, then neck and to her chest.
“You mean my trousers?”
Her lips quirked up and she shrugged her shoulders. “No, in this case, I meant pants the British way.”
“And if I’m going commando?”
Y/N pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away from her. “You had nothing underneath all day on set?”
“No! I wouldn’t subject the dressing department to that. But underneath this.” He looked down at his jeans and smiled at her. “I do have nothing.”
“Well then? Get on with it!”
Both of them were giggling, as Y/N tried to unbuckle Harry’s belt, his own fingers mixing with hers as he went for the zipper and the button. He nudged his head towards her. “Your socks and pants come off as well. Or we’ll be unevenly matched.”
Y/N lifted her eyebrow, as she went for her own remaining pieces of clothing. “No socks during sex?”
“No, what kind of a weirdo do you think I am?”
“And if my feet get cold?” She threw them away somewhere.
“We have a blanket.”
As Harry removed his jeans and his own socks, Y/N slipped off the dampened piece of clothing that’d been on her, now both of them completely naked.
“Alright.” He leaned over her again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling them chest to chest. “Happy now?”
Y/N deeply kissed him. “Very. But I think we can make each other even happier.”
“Agreed,” Harry hummed. “Wanna get a taste first.” He attached his lips to her collarbones sucking a bruise there. “Can I?”
She groaned at the feeling, knowing there be a pleasant ache that accompanied mark. “You can. Don’t have to, if you don’t want. No need to do this for me.”
“And if it’s for me?” Harry was moving lower and lower with each word, wet tongue flicking against a perked bud, and making Y/N gasp. “What if I wanna feel you cum on my tongue, and what if I wanna do something I’ve dreamed about for months now?”
His hands were kneading her breasts, mouth having left a trail of kisses down the middle of her stomach as it was moving towards where an ache that’d been left untreated made itself more and more prominent.
“Then please, please, please do something, Harry.”
“With pleasure.”
Luckily for Y/N, she didn’t have to beg any more, as his mouth attached itself to where she wanted him most, tongue sweeping past her lower lips and licking up a broad, steady stripe.
One of her hands went to fist into her hair and the other into Harry’s. “Shit,” she moaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”
“Guide me.” He licked a circle around her clit. “Tell me how you like it.”
“Mhgm, fuck, okay,” Y/N breathed out. “I – I mean you’re doing great on your own.” Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon, and Harry shifted her legs so that they lay over his shoulders. “But umm, like if you lick around my clit, but like really press down li – oh, fuuuuck, just like that.”
The coil in her stomach tightened with each pass he did, just like Y/N had instructed, small tight circles just how she did with her fingers, only what took her sometimes half an hour, Harry managed to do in less than ten minutes, to have her toes curling and hands grasping anywhere they could find purchase to just keep onto something real.
The vibrations from Harry humming sent shivers straight to her core. “What else, lovie? What else, do you like?”
“If – if –,” Y/N panted, “if you suck on it, but like – fuck – shit! If you kinda keep a seal around my clit, that fuck! Yes!”
The way Harry was eating her out was almost sensational, but what made it even better wasn’t that he just decided to do something and assumed, she’d like it, he asked, he wanted to learn and discover what made her tick and turn, or in this case – cum.
“Harry, ‘m close,” Y/N warned him, feeling the warmth slowly start to spread all throughout her body.
“I’ll get you there.”
He let his lips go for a moment before slipping two of his fingers so that they pinched her clit and moved them slowly but tightly up and down it, while his tongue went to slip inside her hole, and that did it for her.
With a gasp of air, Y/N’s eyes rolled to be back of her head, hips lifting up as euphoria exploded through her veins. Her mind went completely dizzy, and she was quite sure some drool also dribbled down the side of her mouth because she’d lost all ability to function.
“ -o me, love,” Y/N heard as if through a fog, and then felt two soothing palms running up and down her legs. “Come back, love. There you go.”
A drunken smile bloomed on her face, and she ran a hand down it, the same hand that’d grabbed Harry’s hair like a vice. “Fuck. You’re good, you know what you’re doing.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself because I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”
She watched as he straightened out to sit on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, cock slapping against his stomach, and when she looked down there was a wet patch on his side of the sheets, a sly grin morphing on her face. “You liked eating me out so much you came yourself?”
“What can I say – bringing pleasure, gives me pleasure. And your cunt’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. But… do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked, kissing the inside of Y/N’s thighs and watching as she vigorously nodded her head, but he just smirked. “I think I need to test it out. Just to make sure.”
“Harry,” Y/N whined as she felt his fingers skim the apex of her thighs, teasing her.
“Don’t wanna hurt you.”
With that, he used one of his hands to open up her lips, his thumb pressing down on her already sensitive clit, eliciting a gasp before he allowed two fingers to skim her entrance and then slipped in.
“Still so tight,” he said, watching as Y/N sighed and her mouth fell open, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Told you needed to check if you were ready. What kind of a gentleman would I be now, if I didn’t make sure you could take it?”
Y/N gritted her teeth. “I can take you.”
“Don’t doubt it.” Harry left kisses along her leg, as he continued on with his movements, noting how her hips slowly started to grind down on his palm, so he pushed his fingers in deeper so that the heel of his hand could rest against her clit, making the pleasure intensify. “But I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you when all I wanna do is give you pleasure. And you weren’t stretched out enough. Not yet at least.”
“Oh, god, Harry,” Y/N groaned, one arm thrown over her eyes as his fingers hit just the right spot.
“That’s it? Right there?”
“Yes, right there,” she moaned. “Just. Fuck! Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”
“Gonna cum again?”
“Yes, just – just curl your fingers and twist them a bit more.”
And much like the first time, a couple more times was all it took. Her orgasm was even more powerful than the previous and fully knocked her breath out of her lungs. Her legs fell open around his shoulders, stomach and chest spasming from the intensity.
Gentle fingers skimmed up and down Y/N’s arms and featherlight kisses fluttered over her breasts, then chest, neck and finally were peppered across her cheeks.
“Kinda spaced out on me there. You alright? Not too much?”
“ ’M – I’m good. But I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me.”
Harry chuckled, and Y/N leaned her head to the side so she could press a kiss against the closest of the swallow tattoos. “Hopefully not. I still wanna take you out on that date.”
Her eyes landed on Harry’s left hand’s ring finger, where a golden band still laid.
“Oh, yeah.” He lifted the digits, still covered in her cum before pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. “Forgot to remove it. Hope the prop guys don’t kill me.”
She hated how his eyes sparkled, absolutely knowing what that sight did to her, how it made her stomach flutter and heart thunder against her ribs. Y/N was sure with the force it was pounding, they’d crack.
“Well, if they don’t, I will.” She pulled him down, nails raking on his skin, dragging to rest on his ass as they bit into it. “Now get inside me.”
“Condom.”
“No, ‘m on the pill.”
“I’m clean, I swear, but it’s still not a hundred per cent safe.”
Y/N shook her head. “I’ll buy the morning-after pill. Just need you inside.”
“You sure?” Harry placed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah. I mean I’m clean, and uh… I just wanna feel you.”
He’d cum once already, and Harry would be dammed if he did it again before having the chance to know how heaven feels like. As gently as possible, he took himself, giving a few strokes before nudging the tip against Y/N’s clit, her sharp inhale stalling him until she nodded.
Her nails dug into his biceps, as he finally slipped inside her, making both of them moan at the feeling. Even with all of the stretching out he’d done with his fingers, and the two orgasms he’d drawn from her, the slickness helping everything to be easy and smooth, Y/N still felt a little sting.
Harry’s head dropped to Y/N’s shoulders and even from under him, she could feel his thighs and stomach shaking, as he tried to hold his composure and give her a little bit of time to adjust.
A couple of deep breaths later, she tapped his ribs. “You can move now.”
“ ‘ya sure?”
“Mhm,” Y/N nodded her head and pecked his lips reassuringly. “Please.”
His dishevelled and sweaty hair shook as he nodded and slowly drew back his hips so that just the tip of his cock remained in her before gliding back inside. The sight alone was more than enough to make both of them explode, but they wanted to last longer than thirty seconds, especially for their first time together. There’d be quickies for later, now they wanted to have a proper shag.
Bit by bit, Harry’s pace quickened, pearls of sweat gliding down his skin and dampening the sheets below them, much like it was with Y/N. Her leg slid up to rest around his hips, giving him a better angle and more leverage for him to strike the right spot, as he pushed her knee to rest against her chest, Y/N’s head falling back to the pillow.
Her insides were shaking from the pleasure, and it was like an invisible force was pushing down on her chest, as she struggled for a proper breath. “Harry,” she dragged out his name, the word turning into a high-pitched whine.
“I know,” he responded in the same breathless voice. He could feel her tighten around him and wasn’t sure just how much longer he’d be able to keep up the pace. “Touch yourself ‘f me, lovie. C’mon, use those fingers.”
Y/N did as she was told. It didn’t give her that butterfly feeling like it’d happened when they’d been Harry’s, but it did make her cum faster, and the sensation of her gushing around his cock made him lose all self-control and he spilled inside.
It wasn’t enough for Y/N, but she guessed she needed to settle for it. She knew that nothing really ever touched in the universe, that the closest atoms ever come to touching one another is when their wave packets overlap, much like she and Harry were now overlapping, his body lying on top of hers, skin sweaty and frame trembling as he came down from his own high.
“I uh,” Y/N cleared her throat, finger tracing the outline of one of the butterfly in the middle of Harry’s chest. “When the people came to get my stuff, I umm, asked them to take your rainbow cardigan. Wanted something that smelled like you, so I didn’t feel so alone. Was the first thing I put on when I got out of my hospital gown.”
She felt his body rumble with laughter and a kiss being pressed to her forehead. “I know. Saw Anna stash it inside the suitcase. I uh, I was the one who also put in one of my sweaters. Know how cold you always get.”
She hid her smile against his collarbones. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”
“ 'M always thinking of you… Will you knit me one though?”
Y/N raised her eyebrow. “Knit you one?”
“Yes. I know you knit –“
“Everyone knits nowadays.”
Harry drew himself back a bit, and she pushed away the matted down strands from his forehead, wiping away the sweat from underneath his green eyes as well. “Yes, but the point is – there’ll be a million other Gucci shirts and sweaters and cardigans. But I’d like to have one-of-a-kind made by you. So, I have something to sleep next to when you’re not next to me.”
Y/N ran a finger along his jawline, biting away her grin. “It’ll probably have mistakes. I’m not that good at it. ‘M not a professional.”
“Exactly.” Harry tilted her head up with a finger and their eyes met. “Which is why it’ll be perfect.”
“The arms will most likely be different lengths in the end.”
“Don’t worry, darling.” He pecked her lips before hugging her and not letting go. “It’s flawless for me.”
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Yandere!Karl Heisenberg x Reader
Synopsis: Heisenberg kidnaps the reader. And she’s pissed about it. And so is he. Turns out there’s a lot more to it than it seems, tw: kidnapping I’m not tagging for violence because it’s less graphic than even the mild stuff in canon. Like reader gets a concussion and a dislocated arm, that’s it.
A/N: first time ever writing for Resident Evil. I haven’t even played the games, only watched a play-through and immediately fell in love with this hobo. Honestly, there’s a lot of room to make a sequel or some more from this but I have commitment issues and it probably won’t happen.
Oh and one last thing! Do you think I should add resident evil: village to my fandoms I write for or no. Let me know please!
It’s dark in your small cottage, claustrophobic with the way you stumble to the front door as fast as you can. You try to take deep breaths, but you can’t, not with someone chasing you. You cut through the kitchen, and when he reaches out to grab you, you slam the door to a cabinet as hard as you can. You can hear his pained yell.
“Don’t make this harder than it has to be, (y/n),” he says.
“I’ll make it as hard as I damn please!” You put your hand on the handle to the front door, twist and right before you manage to open it, a body slams into yours and you hear your arm pop. Loudly. And it burns at the elbow like someone poured gasoline on it and set it on fire.
You can hear his heavy breathing and feel the warm air on the crown of your head. “You put up a good fight, I’ll give you that much.” He presses his body further into yours, and you feel everything. The toned muscle under a layer of fat, the harsh fabric of his shirt and jacket, and the bulge that presses into the small of your back.
“You’re so small,” he coos, like he’s talking to a dog, “I can’t wait to break you.”
You manage to wiggle one arm free and jab him in the side as hard as you can with your elbow. You hear him say oof under his breath, and you take this as the opportunity to press your foot into the door and push back into him as hard as you can, to at least get him to stumble back.
It doesn’t work, he just leans his whole-body weight on you and uses one hand to smash your head into the door. He could have done it harder, you reckon, but it still hurts like a mother fucker. “Shut the fuck up before I do something I regret.”
“Like you don’t already regret breaking into my house and trying to kidnap me? Like you don’t regret slamming me into my door and dislocating my elbow? What are you going to do to me that you’ll regret? Huh?”
He looks down at you through those yellow glasses of his, light from the glass peephole reflecting off of them but his hat shading the rest of his face. “I said shut the fuck up!” He presses your head even further into the door, and your temple digs into the frame. It hurts, and your eyes water from the pain.
“Who even are you?!” You end up shouting. His grip loosens a little bit, just enough for you to move your head off the door frame and onto the actual door. “I’ve never met you in my goddamn life and you break into my house, say you love me, and try to kidnap me!”
Something in him breaks, you can tell, the outline of his features look crestfallen. “You don’t know who I am?”
“No… I don’t. And here you are in my house, chasing me around like I’m some goddamn animal you’re hunting.” Your eyes water. “I know you don’t mean a damn word you said this entire time.”
“Shut your goddamn trap woman!” His grip on your hair tightens. “I love you and we both know it; I know everything about you.”
“So, you’re a stalker? Huh, didn’t think I was pretty enough to have one.”
“I knew you had a mouth on you, and it was attractive till it was pointed in my direction.” His voice is low and gravelly at this point, like a thin string that’s pulled taut and about to snap.
“Well get used to it you fu-” You don’t get to finish your sentence, because a piece of metal from his hammer slams you hard in the face, knocking you out cold.
When you wake up, it’s hard to open your eyes. It’s too bright and the room is spinning when you move your head up. That must be one hell of a bump on your forehead. You go to feel it, only to find you hands chained up to a metal pipe on the wall. Your feet are too, but that chain is a lot slacker.
You’re lying down on the floor, a cheap scratchy blanket separating you from rough, worn down cement. It’s still hard and cold, but it didn’t scratch up your skin, so that’s something to be grateful for. You look around the room, only to find an old tv, that’s on, and playing static. That’s what was so bright, you realize.
Suddenly the noise from the t.v. stops, and you hear a voice. It’s still sounds like static, but it’s audible enough to understand the words and recognize the voice. It’s the same guy who kidnapped you. You don’t really process what he’s saying, it’s just noise to you, and you close your eyes and curl up as best as you can. Maybe you’ll wake up, and everything will be okay.
“Quit ignoring me girlie.”
You snap out of your daydreaming. The days of that warm bed and leaky bathroom faucet are over, and this cruel situation is your reality for the time being.
“Okay. Okay. But just quiet down my head hurts.”
“I’d be sorry, but you brought that upon yourself,” he says.
You can’t help but be snarky, you’re tired and already sick of this shit. “I’m sorry you don’t have the self-control to not kidnap people and knock them unconscious via flying pieces of metal.”
“Touché.” You hear back.
“Can you at least get me some Tylenol for my head or something.”
“Why should I? After all the attitude you’ve given me, I should just leave you in there to starve.” Looks like he knows how to be snarky too.
“Because you were the one who hit me in the head and locked me in here?”
“Apologize and I’ll consider it.”
You go back to your curled up position. “I guess I’ll just starve down here then.”
The t.v. cuts off again, or you just tune him out, just run your hands along the chains to try and find a lock. You find the one attached to your left ankle and begin to plot your escape. Maybe you could pick the lock with a bobby pin? You run your hands through your hair, not only to find that it was down, but all of them were removed.
You run your hands down your pajama pants. Maybe you have something in your pockets? They also turn up empty.
“Are you looking for something to pick the lock with?” You hear from the t.v. You turn back to look at it, only to see his face. He’s not wearing his glasses, and he’s taken off his worn-out bucket hat, so you can see his untamed salt and pepper hair. “I took the liberty of searching your person while you were knocked out. I highly doubt you’ll find something to pick the lock with.”
“You’re an asshole, you know that.” You find yourself saying. To be fair, you probably shouldn’t, considering that he: is holding you hostage, threatening to leave you to starve, and is clearly a psychopath, despite his claims that he loves you.
“Calm down, you know it makes me upset to see you mad.”
You can’t help but raise your voice at him. “Quit fucking taunting me! You won this stupid ass game. You kidnapped me! You can come down here and kill me now!”
“You think I wanna kill you?” He asks, you can tell he’s just as furious as you are. He chuckles lightly. “You know I love you. I did this for your own good! There are people out there. People who want to taint you and your innocence! People who want to hurt you!”
“I can handle myself just fine! I had before your psycho ass came along and kidnapped me!” Your furious, desperately searching for a weak point on the pipe with your hands while you yell at the t.v.
“And what would have happened if I didn’t?” He asks you, “lady supersized bitch in the castle would have gotten to you first… I can’t have that.”
“I’m sorry who?” You ask. Suddenly things have gotten more confusing.
“I’m not the only one who’s after you,” he clarifies. “You think I’m the one who’s a psychopath, there’s a woman out there who wants to drink your blood and eat your flesh! And monster that wants to drown you and swallow you whole-”
“Slow down! I have no idea what the fuck you’re talking about!”
“Don’t interrupt me! I want what’s best for you!” You can hear him take a deep breath. “I’m going to bring you upstairs and explain everything. And you’re going to behave, am I clear?”
You just nod your head.
“Good. Now stop trying to find a weak point on that pipe to get loose before I get down there. It has carbon monoxide in there, you’ll poison yourself before you get to that door.”
You immediately stop twisting the connector and drop your hands to your sides.
“Good girl…” His praise makes you want to vomit. “Now stay still while I come get you.”
When he comes down and opens that iron door and unceremoniously tosses you over his shoulder, you can’t help but comment on it. “Am I a bag of potatoes to you?”
“Don’t complain, I could be like that Dimitrescu bitch and turn you into wine.”
You shut up immediately and grasp the back of his coat for balance. You don’t know why, but his empty threats scare you immensely. You watch the hallways blur into one another, trying to see if you can find a window, or an escape rout of some sort, hell, even a vent he couldn’t fit in but you could would work well.
He smacks your thigh. Not hard, but enough for a slight sting and to get your attention. “We’re in the center of the factory, there’s no need for you to be tracking an escape route, especially because you won’t be leaving any time soon.”
Eventually, you end up in a small office like space, with a desk, a cork board with several pictures of people on it, and a large grate that leads to a tunnel downwards. He pulls the metal chair out of the corner with his powers and places you in the chair. “Stay.”
“So…” He turns towards the cork board. “Since your out of town, I’ll explain the run-down-“
“I don’t really care for the details.” You stand up from the chair and go to walk towards him, but he crosses the room in a second and slams you back down.
“I told you to stay in that goddamn chair!” He opens his mouth to explain but a whirring noise starts out of nowhere. It’s loud, obnoxious, and coming from the vent. He opens it. “Shut your goddamn trap!”
“Anyhow, (Y/N),” he starts, “the other three lords decided that they’re interested in you, for whatever their reasons are. I’m assuming they want to kill you.”
“That’s a veeeeeery extreme assumption.” You roll your eyes, and prop your head on your hands.
“Well two of them are well know for turning people into dolls and drinking their blood,” he says casually, “it’s only a fair assumption they want to do the same with you.”
“I’m sorry they what?”
He turns to you, surprised for a moment that you don’t know what he’s talking about. “Super-sized bitch over here,” a sharp piece of metal lands on the photo of a pale, middle aged woman with bold red lipstick and a black hat, “is one of the other three lords, known for drinking the blood of girls like yourself. Wouldn’t suggest meeting her, she’s not that pleasant.”
“Known for?”
“Sort of, most of the towns people don’t know,” he turns to you and leans on the table by the cork board, “they’re too busy worshipping Mother Miranda.”
“I’ve heard her name before,” you say, “doesn’t she protect the town?”
You can sense the anger you caused before you can take it back.
“That Miranda bitch doesn’t protect anybody from shit. She’s the one causing all the issues, kidnapping people and mutating them, killing them and throwing their lives away like table scraps.” You slams his hand on the table and you visibly flinch. He quickly apologizes.
“You keep mentioning ‘the other three lords’ how many are there, and who’s the one your excluding in that statement?” You question as soon as you get the chance. He’s talking, loudly, quickly and it’s filling up the space in the room with an anxious sort of white noise.
“Pardon me,” he says, and waltzes over, almost over-dramatically. He brings your hand to his lips and places a light kiss. You can feel his stubble and chapped lips on the top of your hand. He desperately needs to use chap-stick. “I’m Heisenberg, one of the four lords, but you can call me Karl.”
“Okay… Karl.” You test the name out on your tongue. “What are you going to do with me, now that I’m here?”
He gets down on one knee in front of you, still holding your hand. “Oh (Y/N), I’m going to treat you how you deserve, like a princess.”
#resident evil#resident evil 8#resident evil village#karl heisenberg#karl heisenberg x reader#yandere karl heisenberg#yandere heisenberg#heisenberg x reader#yandere karl heisenberg x reader#tw: kidnapping
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BTS Reactions: Their S/O is Inexperienced Yet in Their Mid 20s
A/N: Here it is, my first post after my long-ass hiatus :) I hope you guys enjoy it! Requests are OPEN, please send some over! <3
PREMISE: OT7 reacting to finding out that their s/o is physically inexperienced relationship-wise / that this is their s/o’s first relationship despite them being in their mid 20s
A/N: I think a lot of people won't understand why this is a reaction in the first place (lol) but it can be super uncomfortable / awkward to have not dated / had any experience at that age, and a lot of people react badly to finding that out about someone. It's definitely an insecurity for a lot of people (myself included).
warning: mostly unedited due to my status as a trash gremlin
Jin:
Jin was completely shocked when he found out that you had never dated before him. Without thinking, he let this incredulity show on his face, total surprise evident and eyebrows raised. He was briefly silent in disbelief. You took that to mean that he thought you were weird now. You certainly felt that way.
Involuntarily, tears welled up in your eyes and Jin finally registered your distress. “What’s wrong?” he asked in concern, gently brushing away a stray tear from your cheek. You stared down at your feet, murmuring “You probably think I’m super strange now.” in explanation. Jin shook his head insistently, imploring that he didn’t find it weird at all.
“Honestly I was just shocked because I don’t know how you didn’t have people practically lining down the block to date you.” He explained, bringing a small smile back to your face. He pulled you into a hug, assuring you that he was in no hurry as long as he got to spend time with you.
Yoongi:
You and Yoongi were having a cozy night in and catching up on dramas. In the show you were presently watching, there was a character who was in her mid 20s that had never dated or even kissed anyone. Yoongi scoffed, rolling his eyes at this. “This is so unrealistic. Like come on, seriously? How do you get to be that age having never dated, having never even kissed somebody? It’s a completely absurd concept.”
You started to curl in on yourself, looking down with a tortured expression on your face. You were scared to explain the truth, fearful that if he knew he wouldn’t want you anymore. After a few minutes like that, Yoongi finally noticed your body language. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?” He inquired gently. How were you going to explain this to him?
“I, um… I guess I kind of freaked out when you were talking about the plot being unrealistic… You were so sure it couldn’t happen that you were annoyed by it. And then I really didn’t know how to tell you that the plot line we were discussing is literally the same as me. I’ve never dated before, you’re the first… And when you kissed me for the first time, that was my first kiss.” You took a deep breath, having exerted a lot of energy to force out your words.
Yoongi’s eyes lit up in recognition, then guilt crept onto his features. “Baby no, I’m so sorry, I completely overreacted about the show. I shouldn’t have said all that. I never wanted to hurt your feelings.” Yoongi admitted sincerely. He could tell that you felt a little bit better after that reassurance.
"It’s not a bad thing to do things on a different timeline. Plus, I got the honor of being your first boyfriend because of it. Maybe I’ll be your last.” He said the last part quietly, smirking softly before pressing a kiss to your forehead.
Hoseok:
One of your favorite things about Hobi was his open and energetic attitude. He was truly one of the friendliest people you’d ever met, and it had felt easy to become close with him. You hadn’t been dating long at all, but the ease of conversation made it feel like you’d known each other for years.
On one particular day, the two of you were chatting over a dinner of your favorite delivery food. Hoseok was in the middle of a funny story about one of his exes, never one for unnecessary social boundaries or conventions, which was fine because you were laughing like crazy at the ridiculous tale he told. Then he continued, though, to tell (admittedly hilarious and absurd) stories about some of his other exes. You were entertained, certainly, though the number of people he seemed to have dated was a bit intimidating to you.
When he finally finished, he asked about *your* exes, and that was where the issue really started. You deflected, not wanting to directly bring attention to the fact that you had never dated before him. He became oddly persistent, seeming frustrated that you didn’t want to share. Not wanting him to misunderstand why you weren’t telling him what he wanted to know, you sucked it up and told him that he was your first boyfriend.
He was extremely surprised, but seemed to understand now why you had been reluctant to answer his questioning. He apologized for going on about exes for so long, and for inadvertently making you nervous. You assured him that it wasn’t a big deal, especially since the only important thing was your relationship moving forward, not either of your pasts.
Namjoon:
When you and Namjoon had only been together a few weeks (after a much longer friendship prior to your romantic relationship beginning), you were spending a nice chill evening at home, eating takeout and chatting. The two of you seemingly never ran out of things to talk about, one of the things you loved about being with him.
You don’t even remember what had led to it, but partway through the evening, he made some dumb joke about virgins and you visibly froze. You had yet to tell him about your lack of experience, and now you were terrified to. Was that really something he’d be bothered by? You hadn’t thought so, but his joking around about it made you doubt that. You did your best not to show your panic, paying unusually close attention to the glass of water you were drinking.
Unfortunately for you, your discomfort was completely apparent, and Namjoon asked you if you were okay. You nodded with a forced smile, making him frown, easily able to tell that you weren’t. You were afraid to tell him now because if it really bothered him that much, maybe it would disappoint him. Maybe it’d be a dealbreaker and he would lose interest in you. Unsure what to do, you stared at your hands, tense and worried. Namjoon lightly rested his hand on your shoulder, staring at you in concern. “Please tell me what’s wrong.” He implored gently.
At that moment you could no longer hold in your emotion, your fear, and tears began to leak from your eyes as you sniffled, starting to shake a bit as you cried. You let him pull you into his arms, holding you close as you tried to stop crying. After a few minutes of you trying to calm down, aided by Joon’s sweet behavior, he asked again what was wrong, insisting that you could tell him anything. Your chest felt tight, but you didn’t see a way out of sharing what had upset you.
When you explained what had happened, Namjoon felt horrible, cursing himself for having said something so dumb. He told you that it was just a stupid joke, not something he actually cared about, apologizing for upsetting you with his thoughtlessness. He made sure to assure you that it wasn’t a problem for him in the least, and that he was in no rush. Afterwards the whole situation seemed a little silly, though you remembered how genuinely panicked you had been only minutes before and shuddered. But things were immediately made better, the two of you snuggling up on the couch to watch a movie.
Jimin:
Your blossoming relationship with Jimin made you feel like you were walking on a cloud. He was incredibly sweet and so much fun to spend time with, you felt very lucky to be dating him now. Just to be sweet, you had picked up food from his favorite lunch place and were bringing it to him at the BigHit building, where he was currently busy at work in a practice room.
When you arrived, the door to the room was open, but you heard voices coming from inside. You only paused when you heard Jimin say your name. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, and you were about to announce your presence until you realized what he was saying. “You know I really like her, man, I just feel so unsure right now. There has been like, zero physical affection up to this point, nothing beyond hugs and holding hands.” Jimin grumbled, sounding irritated.
Tae hummed in acknowledgement, pausing before inquiring “So obviously you’re frustrated, but what are you thinking about it?” Jimin sighed. “Maybe she just doesn’t like me as much as I like her. I don’t want to think anything bad about her, but what if she’s playing me? Like, she doesn’t have actual feelings for me.” He sounded very down, clearly hurt by the mere possibility. At that moment you were so shocked by what you were hearing, you accidentally dropped the bag of takeout, hurrying to pick it up, but you’d already drawn attention to yourself.
Jimin and Taehyung looked beyond shocked to see you, and you realized you were crying. Taehyung excused himself to let the two of you talk. You walked farther into the room, approaching the boys. “I thought we could have lunch… I know you don’t take enough breaks, and I really wanted to see you…” You admitted quietly, unable to actually make eye contact.
“I just feel so horrible, it’s all my fault that you don’t even know how crazy I am about you. I can’t believe…. I let you be unsure of how much I care about you. It’s my fault, I’m so sorry Jimin.” By the end of what you were saying, you were holding back full sobs. Seeing how distressed you were, Jimin wasted no time in rushing to you and pulling you into his arms, hugging you close.
When you’d finally calmed down and stopped crying, you thought you owed him an explanation. “The lack of physical affection isn’t because I don’t like you. I like you more than I’ve ever liked anybody. I’ve just… never done anything. I haven’t even been in a relationship before now, it’s all new to me.” You admitted, feeling Jimin stiffen in your hug.
When you pulled back to look at him, tears were welling up in his eyes. “Oh, I’m the worst…” He muttered, feeling so guilty. “I was just frustrated, I was feeling insecure. Now that I know, I don’t mind one bit waiting for anything until you’re ready.” He assured you, planting a quick kiss on your forehead as you nodded understanding.
Tae:
It had only been a few weeks since Tae had confessed his feelings to you and the pair of you had started dating. Long before that, you’d been close friends, so you had spent a lot of time together over time. During one of your first few movie nights as a couple, things slowly began to escalate between you. You were sitting close together, seemingly focused on the film, when Tae moved to put an arm around you, pulling you closer so you were snuggled up beside him.
His eyes never left the screen, but there was a telltale little smirk on his face. You rolled your eyes a little, but you certainly didn’t mind. Despite it being such a small thing, at this stage in your relationship, this was a little bit thrilling. Soon you could feel him staring at you, and you turned your head to look back at him. His face had gotten much closer to yours than you’d expected. “…Tae?” you whispered, seeing both affection and mischief in his eyes. “Yes love?” He replied quietly in his gorgeous low voice, making you shiver just slightly.
You shook your head almost imperceptibly, and before you knew it his lips were on yours. You froze, all of this being completely new and foreign for you. Feeling you stiffen and fail to reciprocate the kiss, Tae pulled back to look at your face, wearing an expression of concern. “Um, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have just… assumed you felt the same way…” He muttered nervously, not making eye contact. “No!” You exclaimed a little louder than you meant to, quieting your voice to a near-whisper before speaking again.
“No, Tae, I do feel the same way! I really, really do. I love you. I have since we were just friends. I… I want you too. Just, um, I don’t know what to do…. That was my first kiss just now and I kind of just panicked and froze.” You confessed, watching the surprise and then recognition cover his face. That was all it took to take his unsure expression back to a smug smirk. Knowing the power his voice held over you, he leaned in close to you to speak in your ear when he said “in that case, I think we need some practice, don’t you?” Oh boy.
Jungkook:
You had been seeing Jungkook for a couple of months now and it was more than apparent that he was smitten with you (and vice versa). He complimented you frequently, his heart eyes for you always clearly on display. The only problem was the way you practically jumped away from him any time he got close to you. He had definitely noticed your weird behavior, and though you didn’t know what to do about it, you knew it was only a matter of time until he brought it up in conversation.
When that moment came, you had just clammed up and pulled back from him when he tried to put his arm around you while watching a movie. When you saw his expression in reaction, you felt immensely guilty, seeing the hurt on his face. After a moment it shifted to extreme irritation, him clenching his jaw in annoyance. “What’s your problem? I can’t get anywhere near you without you freaking out and moving away in a hurry.” You couldn’t make eye contact anymore at that point, feeling the tears well up in your eyes as you were filled with the fear that you had ruined things with him.
“I… I don’t really know why I keep doing that, it’s just all new to me. I’ve never dated anyone before you so I kind of don’t know what to do with myself most of the time.” You confessed, trying to mask the sniffle that you gave as the first tear rolled down your cheek. Now it was Jungkook’s turn to feel guilty. He approached you slowly, asking you to look at him in a gentle voice. When you did, you saw that the irritation was completely gone, replaced with remorse and fondness. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that, I could have just asked like an actual adult rather than how I behaved. I guess I was just insecure, afraid that you don’t like me in the same way I like you.” He explained, and you nodded slightly in understanding.
“That’s not it at all! I really *really* like you. A relationship is just totally uncharted territory for me and I handled it wrong. I should’ve just told you.” You sighed, the heaviness leaving your heart as an adorable bunny smile grew on his face. “Uncharted territory, huh? Well let me be your travel guide. We can be explorers together.” You rolled your eyes at his dumb joke, but smiled in spite of how silly his words were. You felt like now, with it all out in the open, things could be good with the two of you.
a/n: Feedback please! <3 I love to hear from y'all!
#bts reaction#bts reactions#bts scenario#bts scenarios#bts imagine#bts imagines#bts drabble#bts drabbles#bts fluff#bts fic#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts ot7
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i know | jj maybank
hellooooo i've risen from the dead and its with a fic about outer banks... i've fallen in love with jj... thats my baby
this was supposed to be a 5+1 concept and it still kinda is but i got really really carried away. as my new friend @captainpogue calls it the too much gene. so buckle up and grab a snack this is 21k words lmaoooo i hope you enjoy
i love you already
warnings: nothing more than what is mentioned in the show
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You were laying on your stomach, on your bed, flipping through a book. It didn’t have your full attention as your mind was elsewhere. Music filtered in through your headphones but you weren’t really listening to it, either. It was almost dark outside and with the power still out, the few candles lit in your room did little to help you focus on the words in front of you.
It was also extremely hot. You were sweating just laying there. Your shirt was stuck to you and your shorts felt uncomfortable even if they were cloth sleeping shorts. Letting out a frustrated groan, you drop your head down to the book but immediately wince when you feel it get stuck to your forehead. You have to slowly lift your head and peel the page off with your fingers. Gross.
Moving the book, you lay your head down again and just try to breathe. The events of the day are finally catching up to you, making you a bit tired. Your mind is racing as the memories flash through like a movie playing behind your eyelids. Walking down the street and hearing a distressed, “Just shut up, Pope!” You recognized the voice like it was your own and rushed across the street where you came face to face with your group. JJ had looked at you, guilt shining in his eyes as he looked back at Shoupe, “Yeah, it was all me.”
A distressed sigh -one that matched the one you let out as you helplessly watched JJ get pushed into the back of the cop car- leaves your body in a rush and it makes your bed bounce just a little with the force of it. Kiara had moved up to you as you watched Pope let out a scream and storm off, his dad following him angrily with the hat Pope had thrown to the ground. She explained what she knew and all you could do was close your eyes and let out a breath. You knew JJ getting arrested, again, wouldn’t be good for him. He’s seventeen now, still a minor, but he’s so close to being tried as an adult and that scares you.
“Hey, you want to go to the police station, see if we can do something?” Kie had offered when she noticed that you’d done nothing but stare off in the direction the cop car had gone.
“No, his dad will most likely show up.” you stated and winced at your own words. “I’m just going to go home. I’d say text me but you know, towers are down. And my phone might even be dead with the whole no power thing.”
Kie laughed at your tone and it pulled a laugh out of you as well.
Rolling onto your back, you cover your face with your hands and try really hard to keep your frustrations at bay. You know JJ didn’t do shit this time around. You know what he’s covering for and why he’s doing it but god damn it you wished he had a little bit more common sense sometimes. You wish he wouldn’t put others before himself sometimes, even though that wasn’t in his nature. You wish he didn’t have such a temper sometimes, or the need to prove himself, because then that’d help him stay under the radar a bit easier. But you knew that JJ would never lose those parts of himself, that’s just who he was. Someone who cared about others too much because he didn’t want them to feel what he’s felt his whole life but had a temper like no other.
The temper is something you’ve tried working on with him for as long as you’ve known him. Since the first time you saw him lose it at the age of twelve. It was an unhealthy coping mechanism, to fly off the handles as soon as someone upset him enough. You guessed it was because he knew nothing else. Growing up around that kind of behavior, it just kind of sticks. He tries though, tries to keep it under control for as long as possible though, hating that he gets so angry so easily but people just make him so mad. You’ve told him that he gets that way because he bottles up everything he’s feeling when he’s feeling it and it just keeps building until he snaps. And when he snaps, it’s because he filled himself up with so much rage it has nowhere else to go than through his fists, or yelling, or apparently holding someone at gunpoint.
Tears of frustration for JJ start to build behind your eyelids and your nose starts to tingle but you just can’t help it. JJ doesn’t deserve the things he’s been put through, he really doesn’t. He’s a good person. He has good intentions behind most of the crazy shit he does. It’s just that he doesn’t think of the consequences before he goes through with his impulses. His snap judgement choices weigh out any other rational thought in his head.
Like he clearly didn’t think of what would happen to him when taking the blame for a felony charge and you really hope he’s okay. You kinda hope his dad didn’t show up to get him from the police station and that he’s still there because you know the outcome of the scenario. You’ve been on the comforting end of those scenarios more often than not and each time it breaks your heart. To see the boy cut up and bruised by the hand of his own father. He brushes it off every time, ‘It’s nothing I can’t handle’ but you see the pain there. The shine in his eyes and the deep breaths to keep himself from crying. You see it. Every. Time.
You can only hope that today won’t be one of those days where JJ will be littered with dark bruises and deep cuts. Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of JJ not even making it out of his house today. That’s he’s too hurt to move and that makes a breath stutter out of you in the force of a sob. You press the heels of your hands harder to your closed eyelids in hopes to stop the tears from falling when you feel a weight drop down around your legs. You let out a yelp as your eyes fly open and you sit up in the process.
JJ stands there, at the end of your bed, with his hands on either side of your knees. Your heart nearly drops to your toes when you take in his appearance. Your hopes of him coming out of today unscathed were just that, hopes. The left side of his face is nearly purple, there’s cuts on his eyebrow, cheek, jaw, and a few around his neck line. His eyes are red rimmed and the tip of his nose is just as red. Jaw clenched and breathing ragged, you can tell he’s doing everything he can to hold back his tears. Some have already fallen, you know that, but that was when he was alone. Now he’s trying to act like everything’s fine when you know it’s not. When you both know it’s not.
“JJ,” you breathe out, removing your headphones and tossing your phone to the floor. His face crumples at your voice and you’re a bit relieved. He’s not going to hide how he feels and that just makes you whisper his name again, “JJ.”
That’s all it takes before JJ removes his backpack and climbs up the length of your body, pushing you to lay back down as he settles on top of you. He shakes against you as you wrap yourself around him. One hand goes up the back of his shirt and the other knocks off his hat so you can run your fingers through his hair. He lets out a shaky breath against your neck and then he’s crying. He shoves his face into your neck and you move a little to the side to let him get more comfortable, wanting to give him all the comfort in the world.
“Shh, it’s okay. You’re okay. You’re safe.” You repeat the words over and over again, hoping that they’ll sink in and bounce around in his head so he’ll believe them. “I was so worried about you. That’s why I was crying when you showed up. You worry me, JJ. You always do.”
He starts to settle down after that and you let out a breath, moving one of your hands to quickly remove the tears from your own cheeks before moving back to running your fingers through his hair. “It’s not a bad thing that you worry me. I only worry because I care about you. I care about you more than I care about anyone else.”
Stuttering breaths still fan over the skin of your neck and you just continue to run your hands over him. Your hand on his back is lightly scratching at the skin there, your fingernails leaving a trail of goosebumps. Your other hand is playing with the strands of his hair, untangling them and smoothing them over. “You’ll be okay, JJ.”
When you feel him nod, you know you got him back down to earth. “I’ll be okay.”
“Okay then, let’s go check out those cuts.”
You both get off the bed, JJ focusing too hard on the ground but nonetheless let’s you take his hand and guide him down the hall and into the bathroom. Once he’s seated, on the closed lid of the toilet, you move in between his legs to get close enough to inspect his face. His hands trail up the backs of your legs and wrap around your thighs. It’s a subconscious move on his part, it always is when you’re in this position. For some reason it brings him comfort, it grounds him, keeps him aware that you’re there and in front of him. His thumbs trace up and down on the outsides of your thighs as he tilts his head back for you.
You clean up the dry blood around his eyebrow, cheek, and lip. He hisses at the pressure to get it all off and whines when you clean the cuts with an antiseptic. You apologize by placing delicate kisses over the broken skin. A sigh escapes through his parted lips and his hands move up to the point where his fingers graze the bottom of your shorts.
“Hi, baby,” you whisper against his lips, ghosting yours over his to try and soothe the sting out of the cut. You’re not too sure how good it works but JJ relaxes a bit more under your touch.
A small smile pulls at JJ’s lips as his eyes meet yours, “Hi, baby,” he echoes and his lips brush against yours.
Running your fingers through his hair, you tug a little at the strands and his eyes fall closed once again. You take the opportunity to run your fingers carefully over the bruises littering his delicate skin. There’s nothing you wish for more than for your fingertips to magically heal the darkened, painful, skin of his face.
Another sigh leaves through his parted lips and this time he sounds a bit watery. You grab onto his face with both hands and push your thumbs up under his closed eyelids to see if tears will leak through. And when they do, you swipe them away. “I owe 30 grand in restitution for sinking the boat. My dad didn’t like that.”
The question of what happened would always sit there on the tip of your tongue but you always knew what happened so you would never ask. It was always the same, it was just the reason that changed. And JJ would tell you it every time, once he calmed enough to talk about it.
“You didn’t do it, JJ.”
JJ sighs, “Yeah, I know. But Pope doesn’t deserve that charge. He has so much to look forward to. A way to get out of here and I couldn’t let him throw that away.”
Your hands move his face to a position that when he opens his eyes, he’ll be looking right at you. He knows that so he does and when he does, tears slide down his cheeks before your thumbs have a chance to stop them. “Yeah, but what about you?”
“We all know where I come from. There’s no way I’ll ever be more than that.”
“Don’t-“
He cuts you off, “No, it’s true. Look at me? Look at the shit I’m in. I have nothing going for me. I have nothing to lose. I might as well start now, the life I’m destined to live.”
Your nose starts to tingle once again, the tears resurfacing, “JJ, stop.”
“What?” he scoffs, “You want me to stop telling the truth? When will you realize that I’m correct? That I’m not good for anyone.”
“You’re nothing like him, JJ. You never have been and that’s something you need to realize.” You tug on his hair again, to make sure you have his attention. “The way you care about those you love. I mean, today was a bit reckless but you protected your friend. You protect the entire friend group. You’d never hurt anyone just for the hell of it, just because you felt like it, that’s not you, JJ. “
Looking him in the eyes, you try your best to convey the severity of your words, “You say you have nothing to lose but you do. You have me for one, then there's John B, Kie, Pope. If you keep doing reckless shit you’ll lose us. We need you JJ, you’re the biggest support system in our little group.”
JJ doesn’t say anything, just closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He taps on your thigh, signaling for you to move and when you do he just walks out of the bathroom. You let out a sigh and drop your head, leaving it to hang for a few moments while you steady your breathing to make sure you don’t cry. Everything you said was true and you wished he believed it. The group is full of strong personalities but JJ is the one that keeps everyone a bit sane. He stops people from bickering, he keeps the mood light when it gets to be heavy, he listens to everyone so intently that he knows every detail about anyone. He’s the first to speak up when others are talking down to your group, he's the first to throw a punch in defense. He’s the one, specifically, that brings light to your life every day.
You clean up the bathroom slowly, distracting yourself so you don’t cry. Now is not the time to be emotional, not when JJ’s headspace is so low. This isn’t the first time this has happened and you know it won’t be the last. The amount of self loathing that boy has for himself will stick around no matter what people tell him. It gets better at times but his dad has a way of making it come to the forefront of his brain more often than not.
It’s about fifteen minutes later, stalling as much as possible, before you make your way back to your room. You have a glass of water and some pain killers now because you know that JJ didn’t leave, that he wouldn’t leave. He never does.
“Here,” you murmur, handing over the glass and two pills. “Lay down and go to sleep.”
He has his shirt off and he watches as you move around the room. His gaze is heavy and it makes you feel even warmer than you’re already feeling. You pick up things around the room, dirty clothes, cups, pieces of trash, anything to keep you busy. It’s not something you want to do but you also want to give JJ some space. You won’t admit it but it upsets you every time he starts talking like that and you know he knows that. He always lasts about 13 minutes before he breaks down.
And right on the dot, as you have an armful of dirty clothes to drop in the hamper, he speaks up. “Will you come lay down?”
“I’m going to take a shower. I feel gross.”
JJ lets out a tired sigh, “I’ve calmed down, please come here.”
“I feel gross,” you argue. He may have calmed down but you’re still hurt at his words. You know he doesn’t do it on purpose but it hurts to know that he believes he’s not worth anything, that he’s not afraid of losing you or anyone else that cares about him.
“There’s no point in showering, if I’m not going to shower and we end up pressed against each other anyway. We’ll be sweaty regardless.” He reasons, his voice on the verge of despair and you know that he needs you close right now. That he needs the comfort he seeks. “Please?”
Your heart softens at the tone of his voice and you cave. Dropping the clothes into the hamper you shuffle over to the empty side of your bed. JJ turns his back to you and you settle in behind him, shoving one arm under his neck and wrapping the other one around his waist. You pull him close to you, both palms flat against his chest, molding your body against his. JJ brings a hand to the top of yours and laces his fingers with yours. He lets out a stuttering breath when you place your lips to the back of his neck.
“I have one thing to lose,” he breathes out, “and it’s you.” You press another kiss to the back of his neck before digging your nose to the skin there. “I love you, you know”
“Yeah, I know.” You squeeze his hand and he squeezes back. “I love you, you know.”
JJ sighs and relaxes completely, like he’d been waiting for you to say those exact words, “I know.”
He falls asleep a few minutes later.
-
-
It’s about three days later when you’re walking down the street when you notice a familiar looking jeep coming towards you. Your hopes for it to just keep driving die before they’re fully even there because it stops next to you, making you stumble a bit at the closeness.
“Pogue.”
“Topper.” you sigh, stepping up to his driver window. “I have a name.”
“Yeah, but I don’t really care.” He looks you up and down before smirking, “But I could.”
You roll your eyes, “Hm, in your dreams. What do you want?”
“Just wanted to see how your little group of Pogues are doing with your precious Pope in the slammer?” He raises an eyebrow in question.
You cross your arms over your chest and step closer. You’re not above fighting. You know how to, you were taught how to fight correctly, your dad teaching you at a young age. He felt the need to, with where you live and the stability you have in such an area.
“Yeah, see, JJ was the one that ended up there.”
Topper’s face falls and his skin turns a bit pale at your words. He won’t ever admit it, but you know that he’s secretly scared of JJ. Him and his friends, they all are. Never once have you seen them go to him one on one. They always have 2 or more and it always fills you with pride because JJ does know how to fight but it’s never fair because he’s just one and they gang up on him.
“Why?” he questions.
“Well, Top, that’s because he’s a good person. Unlike you.” you sneer, not backing down. He’s bigger than you, probably stronger than you but you’re not scared of him. You never have been.
“I didn’t want to press the charges, it wasn’t me!” His cocky demeanor falls quickly at the newfound information and it makes you laugh. “It was my mom, I swear.”
“Right, so you couldn’t have stopped her? Couldn’t have done anything when you know the reason it was done in the first place was because you jumped someone who was just trying to do their job. Someone who works for their money. Does someone working to keep themselves afloat scare you? What is it! Huh? You don’t like it?” You can’t help yourself. The force in which your voice is coming out startles you just as much as it does Topper.
“Oh please,” Topper scoffs, rolling his eyes in the process, “don’t act like they’re all innocent. I had a gun held to my head.”
“Yeah, true, but you were about to kill one of our friends! You’re no better than any of us. Oh! And should I mention how you almost killed another one the other night at the outdoor movie? Should I bring that up to someone? Hm? Maybe your mom or maybe the police?” You tilt your head to the side, taunting him a bit.
“Like anyone would believe someone like you,” Topper laughs.
You laugh right back, “Do you forget that I’m actually right under you, status wise? That my family just chooses to live where we do because we’re not a bunch of prissy snobs. People would believe me.”
“Do your Pogues know about you?”
“Of course they do. Do you think that me having money changes anything?” You question, rolling your eyes. “Actually, this conversation is going nowhere. I’m done. I have somewhere I need to be.”
When you step back and start walking, Topper gets out and follows you. “Come back here!”
“For what! What do you want?”
“You need to be knocked down a peg or two. Remind you where you are and who you hang out with,” He steps up to you, trying to seem threatening.
You look up at him bored, “Okay, Topper. Why don’t you get back in your car and drive away. Go do some drugs or beat up on someone working.”
He grabs at your arm and pulls you chest to chest with him, getting in your face in the process. “You don’t know me!”
“And I don’t want to. Now, let me go.”
When you fight against his grip he just holds on tighter. You wince and you know it’ll bruise, “I’m not above hitting a girl. Especially when she’s asking for it.”
“Do it, I dare you.” you challenge, stepping up to nearly pressing your nose to his. You’re not too sure how you didn’t see it coming, probably because you were really challenging him. But he didn’t seem to think the same thing because he surges forward to press his lips to yours. You back away as far as possible but his grip on you doesn’t let you go far and his lips make contact with yours. “Get off of me!”
You stomp on his foot and knee him in the stomach and that gets him to let go. “You bitch!” he grumbles out and reaches for your leg, pulling it out from under you. You land on the ground with a groan and kick at him when he grabs your ankle and bends down to punch you across the face, “Fucking stop!”
“You’re the one that grabbed me, now let go!” You kick at him again and get him in the groin this time. And when he bends over you get enough momentum to deliver a punch to the side of his face. He lands on his side and you push him around until he’s on his back and punch him again before standing up. You stick your boot up under his chin and step on his neck just enough to make it harder for him to breathe. “Don’t ever fucking touch me again.”
“You bitch!” He exclaims again, trying to lunge up at you again but when it doesn’t work he scratches down your leg, cutting into the skin. You push into his neck more when he doesn’t stop. “You do belong with the Pogues.”
“I know,” you smirk, leaning down. “You get your mom to drop the charges against JJ and I’ll make sure he doesn’t come after you for what you just pulled.”
“You think I’m scared of him!” He yells out, choking a bit when your foot slips against his movement.
“I know that you are. And after he finds out it was you that did this to me, it’ll be a whole other type of anger from him.” you whisper, shoving against his throat again. “Drop the charges and I’ll keep him away from you, for this.”
Topper gasps and starts to grab at your ankle but you don’t move it and you won’t move it until he agrees. It only takes a few seconds before he caves, “Okay! Okay, I’ll do it!”
“Good,” you smile, pulling back a little and a gasping breath echoes loudly between the two of you. “Do it now.”
Topper groans and tries to fight you once again, punching at your thigh this time around and it makes you stumble back but not enough because you slam your foot down on his chest, knocking the wind out of him. “Do it now.”
He lets out a breath and fumbles around in his pocket before his phone is presented and he puts it to his ear. “On speaker.”
Once Topper hangs up the phone, after spitting out some bullshit excuse, his mom agrees. She sounds reluctant but she agrees nonetheless. Topper punches you in the thigh once again, this time harder, losing your balance and hitting the ground once more. He kicks at you, foot coming in contact with your lower back after you turned away from him.
“You won’t ever do that to me again, you hear me?” Topper yells, standing up above you.
You laugh and turn over onto your back, “What? Your ego hurt after being held down by a girl.” His face turns red and you can tell he’s trying his hardest not to kick you again. It just makes you laugh more as you stand up to your full height once more. “Don’t let the charges being dropped fall through. If they do? I won’t have any control over what happens.”
You start to walk away and another laugh escapes when you hear Topper, from behind you, let out a frustrated scream before his car door slams and he speeds away. He’s too easy. Messing with him is one of your favorite things to do, even if it ends up with you limping a bit and blood trickling down your leg.
When you reach your destination, The Chateau as always, you’re relieved to only see Kie at the dock you’re all supposed to be meeting at. You initially thought you’d be the last one to show up, your run in with Topper added at least 20 extra minutes to your journey, but you’re glad it doesn’t seem that way. Kie looks up when a branch snaps under your foot and you can see a smile outlining her face when she spots you but it quickly turns into a frown when she sees the state you’re in.
“What the hell happened to you?” she screeches, meeting you halfway.
You look around the property, in search of a certain blonde boy because you absolutely had no idea how you were going to explain this to him. JJ was absolutely going to lose it once he saw you and he absolutely isn’t going to let it go until he knows the truth. You thought about lying to him but he knows you better than he knows himself and he’d see through the lie before it would even have a chance to leave your mouth.
“Where are the guys? I thought I’d be late.”
Kie gives you an unimpressed look at your obvious avoidance of the subject, “I don’t know, something about Figure 8 and Sarah Cameron. That’s all I heard on the phone call.”
You nod, not really caring where they are in the slightest, “Cool. Now will you help me clean up a bit. It doesn’t feel as bad as it looks, I promise.”
She runs her eyes down your whole body before meeting your eyes, “That’s a lie. Do you not feel the blood actively running down your leg?”
Looking down, your eyes widen at just how much blood is covering your leg. “Shit,” you mutter, pressing a palm to your forehead.
“What happened?”
“I ran into Topper,” you sigh, the adrenaline quickly leaving your body now that you’re standing still.
Kiara gasps loudly, “By yourself!”
“Yes,” you groan, not really seeing the big deal. “He looks worse.”
Kie looks like she doesn’t believe you and she’s clearly about to question you when the van pulls up and JJ loudly gets out, yelling out to you both, “Yo, guys, someone beat the shit out of Topper and it wasn’t even us!”
He clearly hasn’t taken in the sight of you yet but you turn your attention back to Kie and you can’t help but smirk at the shocked expression on her face. “JJ’s going to lose his shit in about 2 seconds.”
And just as Kiara closes her mouth, JJ’s voice nearly echoes through the trees, “What in the fuck!” You wince at his tone and just how loud it is.
He was still behind you, you purposely kept your eyes locked on Kiara so you don’t have to face him just yet. But that’s clearly not going to stand because JJ steps in front of you, effectively pushing Kie out of the way. “Who did this?”
“I fell?” You raise your voice as if asking a question, scrunching your face up into your shoulders. The deadpan look on your boyfriend's face makes you let out a sigh and drop your shoulders. “I’d like to say for you to see the other guy but you already have.”
Pope’s voice cuts in before JJ even has a chance to process your words, “You did that to Topper!” He sounds impressed and a big smile pulls at your lips as you turn your head to look at him.
“Holy shit,” John B exhales staring at you in complete awe. “He was fucked up.”
A laugh bubbles past your lips and your cheeks heat up at the attention you’re receiving. The admiration on the two boys' faces almost makes you forget about the other boy in your presence. The one that’s been awfully quiet. You turn back to him and the look on his face makes you frown. His pupils are blown and his jaw is clenched so tight you’re positive his teeth hurt. His focus is dead set on the base of your throat.
Waving your hand in front of his face, you snap your fingers as well, trying to bring him back to you, “Earth to JJ. Come back to me.”
“Topper did this to you?” he asks and when you nod, something flashes in his eyes so quick you find yourself trying to chase it. Figure out what’s going through his head. “I’m going to kill him.”
You’re stunned at the way his voice sounds, deep and raspy, filled with so much hatred. You’re almost positive his voice has never been so low before and it sends chills down your spine. You blink at him but when you open your eyes he’s not in front of you anymore. He’s only a few steps away but you can’t really move as the pain in your leg finally settled in.
“JJ,” you cry out, half out of pain and half to get his attention. “Don’t do anything! Come back here.”
You swivel in your spot and watch him as he continues to stomp into the house. A few things crash around before he comes back out, shoving what you assume is the gun into the back of his pants. “JB, give me the keys.”
“No, don’t give them to him!” You yell out. You need to get his attention.
“What are you thinking? Do you really think I’m just going to sit here and do nothing when that piece of shit put his hands on you?” JJ shouts, standing a few feet away from you now.
Pope comes up behind JJ and puts both hands to his shoulder, “Calm down, man,” he says but JJ roughly shrugs his shoulder and pushes Pope off of him. He puts his hands up in surrender but stays close. “You can’t just go pull a gun out on him and kill him.” He reasons.
“Oh yeah?” He challenges. “Watch me.”
“JJ, stop it,” Kie cries out now.
“Yeah man, you saw what Topper looked like. You should be happy that she’s the one who did it.” John B points out, gesturing to you and JJ follows the movement of his hand and he looks to you again.
He looks at you with his brows furrowed, a storm swirling around in his eyes as he stares you down. The eye contact isn’t something you normally back down from but the intensity in his eyes right now throws you off. It feels like you’re being chastised. You know he’s trying to figure out why you fought Topper. He knows that you don’t just out right fight someone, even if they start it first. He knows that the only time you ever fight is in self defense or to defend someone you care about.
“What did you do?” JJ asks because he knows you did this for a reason. Something more than just for yourself because you don’t personally care for Topper, you’d never give him the time of day and that includes fighting him. “Why’d you fight him?”
“Well,” you shrug, looking down to your feet. Your leg was still bleeding. You should probably do something about that. “He made me mad.”
JJ scoffs, “Your temper is not as bad as mine. There’s more to it. Tell me, now, or I will go kill him.”
You hesitate some more, fixated on your feet and the way they look in your boots. They’re a bit scuffed but they still look good. You focus on that and not the four sets of eyes burning into your frame. Telling them, telling JJ why you fought would result in JJ feeling like shit. You really don’t want him to feel like shit because you did what you did to help him. But he’ll feel like shit because you got hurt and you got hurt on his behalf. There’s nothing he hates more than someone standing up for him and getting hurt because of it.
“Today, please.” JJ snaps and you look up at him to see the anger plastered on his face.
“I was walking here when he pulled up beside me. He wanted to taunt me about Pope being in jail for the whole boat thing and I told him that it was you that took the blame for it. He tried arguing with me but when I started to walk away he grabbed me,” you take a breath when you see JJ step forward like he’s ready to protect you from the words you’re about to say. “And well, when I was challenging him to hit me he kissed me but I -“
“He did what now?” JJ cuts in, his voice so deep and slow your eyes widen at him. Kiara and Pope’s jaw drops at the same time and John B looks taken aback at the way his best friend sounds. Never have they ever heard him sound so angry. You’ve never even heard him so angry before.
Everyone, but you and JJ, glances at each other in confusion but you don’t even dare to look away from JJ. They don’t know what’s going on or why JJ would get so mad at the idea of someone else kissing you. Kiara had a suspicion long ago that the two of you were dating but you shot it down even though she was right. That was almost a year ago and as far as you know they don’t know you’re actually together. At this point you’re not too sure why they don’t even know or why you haven’t told them but you have a feeling they’re about to be real surprised here soon. The look in JJ’s eyes is possessive, it’s down right a claim that you’re his and no one has the right to kiss you.
“Let me finish,” you put a hand up. “I kicked him, shoved him down to the ground, punched him, then held him by the throat with my foot-“
“My god,” John B breathes out, once again looking in awe. Pope just nods in agreement, almost in a daze. Kiara, well she just looks impressed.
“While I slightly choked him with my foot,” you pause for a second, preparing yourself for the worst reaction from JJ, “I got him to drop the charges on the boat.”
It goes deathly quiet for a few moments before three voices come at you all at one, “What?”
You ignore them, still looking at JJ, “By the end of the day your name should be cleared. You won’t be held responsible for the boat anymore.”
JJ doesn’t say anything, he just continues to stare but you watch him carefully. His breaths are deep and calculated, his jaw is clenching and unclenching, his fists loosen and he rests his palms against his thighs. You can practically see the wheels inside his brain working through the information, processing the fact that you did this for him. He’s not used to someone caring for him this way, no matter how long you’ve been there for him, he’s still not used to the love you have for him. He went so long without it, it takes him a while to process it.
But you see the moment it finally settles in his brain, the second that he fully processed the information you’d given him. His chest stutters briefly and you know the tears are going to come next. He breathes in a long breath, and holds it in his lungs before it rushes out through his nose. He’s trying to keep up his tough front, but he’s failing. His eyes finally soften and they go back to the normal light they usually are.
Then, in the blink of an eye he’s in front of you. His hands cradle your face before his body collides with yours, hard, and his lips are on yours. The kiss is hard, it’s possessive, passionate, sincere but hasty, fervent, needy, desperate. It’s overwhelming and so full of emotion that it takes you a second to respond but when you do, JJ sighs into it and pulls you impossibly closer. One hand moves to your lower back and the other one stays on your jaw where his thumb pushes against your face to open your mouth even more. He is absolutely, unquestionably claiming you right here, right now. Not that you need to be claimed but you don’t mind. You’ve never felt so alive before.
The love JJ is conveying through this kiss is everything you’ve ever needed and you reciprocate the best that you can. You want him to know that you’re his and he’s yours. Just how it should be.
JJ whines when you pull away and he chases after you but you need to breathe, “Jesus, J.”
“I’ll say,” Kiara agrees, a little out of breath herself at what she just witnessed. Two seventeen year olds should not know how to share such a passionate looking kiss.
“I didn’t know friends kiss like that,” John B jokes, nudging Pope when he laughs.
“That’s because they don’t.” he continues laughing.
JJ ignores everything they say, “You didn’t have to do that.”
“I know, but I did.” You shrug, shifting on your feet and wincing at the pain that shoots through your leg and JJ notices that. “But like can we go get me cleaned up or something, I need to sit down.”
“Yeah,” JJ nods hastily, “you guys go ahead and go out without us,” he looks at the other three, that still look like they’re in complete shock, and doesn’t wait for their response before he looks back to you, “can you walk?”
You nod but he doesn’t listen. JJ swiftly throws you over his shoulder and starts walking towards the house. “I love you, you know,” he says once he’s far enough away from everyone.
“I know.”
-
-
It’s the next day when you and JJ make an appearance after staying inside all day the day before. Once you had showered and iced down the parts of your body that hurt, you fell asleep and stayed asleep until it was dark. The adrenaline in your system was completely gone and you were in a lot of pain so sleep came naturally.
You met John B, Pope, Kie, and even Sarah, at the beach. It was around 11am when you and JJ walked up to them as they were sitting there in the sand. As you approached, they went quiet and watched as JJ helped you sit, hand you a bottle of water before sitting down behind you. His legs press against yours on either side of your body and his hands rest on top of your thighs. You can feel four sets of eyes on you and you give it about 3 more seconds before someone breaks the quiet.
“How are you feeling?” Kie is the one to break it. You glance at her and give her a smile, one that she returns.
“Sore but I’ll be fine.”
John B laughs a bit of a disbelieving laugh, “What you explained yesterday was pretty badass.”
“Hell yeah it was,” Pope excitedly cuts in. “I should say thank you, as well.”
You just shrug, “I would’ve done it for any of you.”
“Did Topper really do that to you?” Sarah questions you, quizzically looking you up and down. Your face bruised and so did your leg. The scratches down your leg are scabbed and also bruised.
The hands on your thighs tighten and dig into the skin there. You gently place your hands on his, soothing the anger that still sits there. He calmed down yesterday, barely, but he did enough to listen to what happened when you explained it again. Adding in the details you knew would calm him down. He tried to argue with you a few times but you finally got through to him, made him accept the fact that you did what you did and there’s no turning back now.
“What a dick. I can’t believe I dated him,” Sarah continues when you nod at her.
As everyone laughs and starts to pick on Sarah for her choices, you shift your upper body enough to twist around and look at JJ. His eyes are dark and his jaw is clenched tight, pushing out the muscles in his neck. You let out a sigh and bring a hand up to his cheek, soothing your fingers over his jaw to get him to unclench. He’s angry, that much you can tell, but he’s trying his best to keep a wraps on it. It’s been very difficult to keep him steady. Every time he looks at you, he tenses and his breathing gets all deep. It’ll be like that for a few days.
“JJ, calm down,” you whisper to him. The fingers digging into your thighs tighten some more before he relaxes, his eyes meeting yours and the dark anger in them fizzling away slowly. “Hey, there you are.”
“I still can’t believe you won’t let me go kick his ass,” JJ scoffs, moving to lean back on his hands. The movement makes you sway a little, having not realized how much you were relying on him to keep you upright. “I just want to kick his ass.”
He always wants to kick his ass but you know the underlying anger in him would take it further than that and that’s not something you want. Also, “If you kick his ass the charges will come back,” you remind him.
JJ closes his eyes and takes a breath. You move around between his legs and sit sideways, your legs bent over one of his now so you don’t have to be so twisted to look at him. Your back hurts a bit too much for that. He pulls up the leg that’s against your back and presses it into you, giving you something to lean on. You place a hand on his thigh, up by his hip, and lean into him a bit, “I’m sure you’ll get the chance to kick his ass again but just not for this, okay? I hit him just as much as he hit me.”
That brings a smirk to his face, “You know, I wouldn’t mind seeing you choke someone out with those boots you wear. I’m a bit mad I missed it, I’m sure it was hot as fuck.”
And that catches the attention of everyone else and you turn your head when John B speaks up, “Fuck, I was thinking the same thing,” he laughs and laughs even harder when Sarah gasps. “I’m just saying.”
“Actually,” Kie shrugs, “I wouldn’t mind picking a fight with Topper just to see that.”
You let out a loud laugh, your head thrown back at the sheer force in which it comes out, “Can we wait a few days maybe, I hurt.”
JJ immediately brings a hand up to soothe over your leg. It does look bad and honestly it does hurt as bad as it looks. It only takes a few seconds for his other hand to brush over the nasty looking bruise on your back too. Four sets of eyes track the movements, “Does it hurt that bad?”
“Yeah, actually. The cuts sting the worst and the sun makes them feel like they’re burning.” Your answer makes JJ frown. His eyes flicker with anger once more, “Stay calm,” you state a bit forcefully.
You can tell that the group wants to question the movements between you and JJ. The kiss you shared in front of them yesterday was anything but the friendly kisses that you share with the group most days and it’s been on the forefront of their brains ever since. Sarah is the only one that doesn’t track the movements for more than what they are, she didn’t see the kiss and the closeness is no different than what it usually is for the both of you.
The good thing about being with JJ is that nothing really changed between the two of you when you started dating. As kids, you were alway closer than with anyone else. JJ trusted you, protected you, cared deeply for you from the beginning. The touchiness started when you were 15, feelings between you a little too strong to ignore so you went from the friendly hugs and touches to a bit more. Hands would rest in more intimate places, no longer would they rest on knees but now on thighs. No longer on the waist but more on the curve of hips or high up on the rib cage near the chest. Everything was taken in stride, the older everyone got the more common it was and no one questioned a thing about it. It was mostly friendly, being so used to being near JJ for years that the change in touches barely registered in your head, it was all normal.
It changed almost a year ago. The feelings you held for JJ getting to be too much to control, you felt they were getting more and more noticeable every day. JJ was getting closer and closer, lingering longer than usual, snapping quicker when someone offended you, acting a bit more possessive and it was a lot to process. One night, after a particularly large fight with the Kooks, you and JJ were alone on the hammock outside The Chateau when he kissed you. It was a real kiss, one with emotion and fervor, not just a friendly peck that you’d gotten so used to sharing.
You guys have been dating ever since. Keeping it to yourself. You share everything else with the group, nothing was ever private but this was something you wanted to yourselves. To enjoy with no pressure. It was only supposed to be that way for a few months, while you got used to the change in relationship, but you got so comfortable with the way you guys got to have each other in private, you just never mentioned it.
But with how deeply you loved each other, it was obviously getting harder to hide. Not that it’s really that important.
“I’m cal-“
“Are you guy-“
“What the fuck!”
JJ, Pope, and Sarah all speak at the same time but everyone focuses on Sarah’s distressed, ‘what the fuck,’ and looks to her. Everyone then follows her line of sight and what’s caught her attention. JJ immediately tenses and he sits back, ready to jump up. You tense yourself, pushing harder into your hold on him.
“Rafe, what the fuck are you doing here?” Sarah screeches standing up. John B follows her. Kie and Pope stand too, standing more in front of you and JJ.
“Let me go,” JJ whispers, his voice coming out harsh, especially when Topper pops up from behind Rafe.
“No.”
JJ huffs, an annoyed sigh heaving through his nose. His vision is locked on the two boys approaching your group. “We just wanted to check up on our favorite people,” Rafe jokes, the sarcasm rolling off of him in waves. You move completely around in front of JJ when you feel his body start to shake a bit at his continued words, “Especially the one who beat up my boy here.”
Wrapping your legs around JJ’s waist, you pull him closer to you before grasping his face in your hands. “Hey baby, how are you today?” you question, whispering to not gain the attention of everyone else. Pope and Kie are doing a decent job of keeping you hidden but JJ’s eyes are still locked on where Rafe and Topper are standing.
“Which one of you did it? He won’t tell me and I’d like to have a word.”
A twitch goes through JJ’s body, like he’s about to get up but you hold him tighter. Stroking your fingers through his hair, you tug on it a bit to get his attention. It works. “It’s okay.”
“None of you look like you got your asses handed to them, so I ask again. Who did it?” Rafe hums, clicking his tongue as you assume he looks around at everyone. You know that you and JJ aren’t completely covered and he’s bound to finally see you two.
“Rafe, just leave.” Sarah intervenes.
“Oh, Daddy’s little princess, I don’t think so. Not until someone steps up. I might even hang out with you today. I think it would be fun.”
“No, leave them alone. You come for them enough without reason. Go home!” Her voice is stern but Rafe is off the walls, you highly doubt he’ll listen. “Topper deserved what happened to him anyway.”
“Ah,” Rafe lets out, “So you know who did it? You think she’ll own up to it any time soon, I’m tired.”
You wince when JJ roughly grabs you and shoves you away from him. The movement makes you tumble into the back of Kie’s legs and she helps you up as JJ pushes to the front of the group, in the blink of an eye. You let out a groan as you get steady on your feet, your back burning with pain.
John B slaps a hand down on JJ’s shoulder as he steps in front of him, to keep him from attacking. You let out a sigh and shake your head as JJ puffs out his chest, making himself seem bigger. “Why don’t you leave her out of this,” his tone is menacing.
“Oh! You know who did it too?” Rafe exclaims, feigning ignorance.
“Rafe, I told you it’s not a big deal. Let’s go.” Topper interjects.
“No, man. Look at the bruise on your neck. Someone just doesn’t get away with that. Even if they’re a girl,” Rafe finishes, looking directly at you. You stare back, unimpressed, arms crossed over your chest.
JJ lunges for Rafe, “Keep her out of it!”
Rafe laughs as John B and Pope hold JJ back, “But it’s her fault!”
“Not when he’s all over her first! Come on, Top, be a big man and admit it was your fault!” JJ taunts, struggling against the hold JB and Pope have on him.
You sigh once more before stepping out of Kie’s grip, she squeezes you for a second but let’s you go when you keep walking. Stepping in between JJ and Rafe, your chest brushes his, and you challenge him. You want to protect JJ in this moment because you know if a fight was to break out, JJ wouldn’t have it fair because looking past Rafe’s shoulder you spot the rest of their little gang.
“Get out of the way,” JJ yells, placing a hand to your waist. His fingers squeeze into your side but you don’t back down.
“No, JJ!” you yell back, “this is something you can’t fight over. I told you that!”
JJ presses his chest to your back, trying to get as close as possible to the situation but you push back. “Damn it, let me do something!”
You ignore him, turning to Rafe who has a smug expression on his face from the exchange, “Leave. This has nothing to do with you!”
Sarah steps you beside you and shoves at her brother, making him stumble. “Go home.”
“Sarah, this has nothing to do with you.”
You take a step forward, “And it doesn’t with you, either. I’d leave before you end up like your buddy.” Your temper is rising very quickly. The continuous smug look on his face from not listening to you or his own sister making your skin crawl. Your blood is hot and you can feel yourself vibrating in JJ’s hold, the taunting of his words and the way he speaks them as if he’s demeaning you.
“Like you co-“ you don’t even let him finish before you’re throwing a punch across his face, hard. He falls to the ground with the force of it and you’re about to lurch forward to continue throwing punches but arms wrap around your waist and pull you back. Your legs kick up in the air as you fight against the hold, “You bitch!”
Sarah jumps in between you and her brother, knowing he wouldn’t hit her. “Rafe, leave,” but he just shoved her aside and tried to get to you. You’re still fighting in JJ’s hold, yelling at him to let you go but he just continues to pull you away. Topper jumps in to keep Rafe back, desperately trying to get him to listen. For once Topper is doing something smart.
“Let me fight him!” You scream, tired of him and all his friends constantly looking down at you like you’re no more than a piece of garbage on the ground. It’s tiring, frustrating, and you’re absolutely sick of it. You’re tired of having to constantly be on alert, wondering if you’re going to get attacked again just because you’re hanging out somewhere or walking down the street. “Let me go!”
“No!” JJ yells back, “if you won’t let me fight, you’re not going to either!”
“I’m not letting you fight because I don’t want you in jail, asshole!” You’re still struggling against him but his hold is too tight and you’re losing air. “I’m just trying to protect you, god damn it, let me do something for you!”
In your fit of rage you don’t even notice that JJ has dragged you both a few feet away from everyone else until he’s in front of you, hands grasping at your face, “Hey hey hey, will you calm down? Breathe, calm down, baby.”
“JJ, let me go!” You exclaim, still trying to pull away from his grasp. It bothers the bruise on your face but you ignore it. You just want to fight, to attack anything that puts JJ in danger. You’re not too sure where this sudden wave of protectiveness came from, granted you always want to protect him, but it’s a really strong urge these past few days.
“No, calm down. I’m not letting you go until you’re breathing properly again.” JJ argues. He soothes his thumbs over your cheeks but you’re barely registering them there. Your mind is still reeling, wanting to do anything to fight, to keep JJ safe and with you. “What is going on with you? Why do you want to fight so bad? You’re not one to fight.”
The questions seem to drain the fight right out of you, the adrenaline running through your system leaving your body in a single breath. It makes you sag against JJ, his hands on your cheeks the main thing keeping you up. “I don’t know.”
“Come on, dig a little. I need an answer so we can work on moving forward.” JJ throws your own words back at you. You smile a little at him, happy that he’s grasping onto the tactics you use to get him to open up about what he’s going through. JJ notices you smile and chuckles, “Yeah, yeah I listen to you after all.”
That makes you full on laugh, your whole body shaking as the laugh rips through you. Reaching up, you rest a hand to his cheek, “You’re so stubborn, I’m a bit surprised.” He leans into your touch a bit, eyes closing as he takes in a deep breath. Your laughter dies down and you just smile at him. “The idea of you not being with me, scares me.”
JJ frowns and steps closer, as if either of you would disappear if he wasn’t close enough. “I just-“ you breathe out when he places your free hand on his ribs, your place of comfort, your grounding place. “I just want to do something for you. I want you to be safe. I want to protect you.”
“Have you not realized that’s what you’ve been doing for me since we were like 9?” JJ laughs, shaking his head. “Baby, you’ve been the one protecting me for years. How many times have you taken the blame for something when you weren’t even there? How many times have you hid me in your closet so your parents don’t find out I’ve sneaked in after a particularly bad day with my dad? How many times have you patched me up and held me when things got too bad? It’s too many to count. You do things for me every day. You smiling at me, holding my hand, sitting beside me, sharing food with me, looking at me, hell just being in the same room as me; gets me through any day.”
The four others stare on in a bit of a daze. Rafe and his followers long gone so their attention has been solely on the two of you. But there’s no way either of you could’ve known. Emotions are running high between you and JJ that there’s no way you’d pay attention to anything other than him until you knew his mind was steady. You knew JJ was going through the same thing.
“Are they like.... together?” Sarah questions, to no one in particular. She always just assumed the two of you were just closer. That your friendship was just that, a friendship. She’s noticed that the entire group of Pogues were close and touchy, but it was always a bit more between the two of you.
“Yeah,” Pope answers.
Sarah gasps, “Why didn’t I know!”
“Because we don’t even know,” John B answers.
“What do you mean?” Sarah’s brows furrow. That has got to be one of the most confusing things she’s ever been told. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“They haven’t told us,” Kie shrugs, “But, I mean, it’s obvious. I figured it out like six months ago maybe?”
“Really?” Pope, raises an eyebrow. “I figured it out like 3 months ago.”
“Mmm,” John B hums, “I’m pretty sure I witnessed their first official kiss. You know how she kisses all of us?” he asks, looking around to the others. Kie and Pope nod while Sarah just watches on. “Well, one night, like last year some time. I saw them kiss and it wasn’t like the ones she gives all of us. Their dynamic changed the next day.”
Sarah looks around completely baffled. She feels like she should’ve known, should’ve realized but she just assumed because no one acted like you two were dating. But she didn’t grow up with you all, she hasn’t seen how the two of you dating wouldn’t be a shock. And the newfound information still doesn’t stop Sarah from letting out a gasp when you surge forward to kiss JJ.
The kiss is like the one you shared yesterday but this time it’s you pouring everything you’ve got into it. Pouring in every ounce of love your body has to offer. It’s deep and warm and all things good. It’s needy and greedy, needing to have his attention and wanting to take it all. He reciprocates with just as much fervor, hastily kissing back like his life depended on it. His hands are tight on your waist as he pulls you impossibly closer, always closer, and your arms wrap around his neck. Hands shoved in his hair, you kiss him with unrelenting fury. It’s a kiss that could easily turn into something more if you weren’t in public so you try to tone it down but JJ is having none of that. He just wraps both arms around your back and holds you to him when you try to pull away.
You step back though, breathing heavily against JJ’s lips. Your breaths mix with his and your lips desperately brush as you both just breathe, trying to come back to earth. You place a quick kiss to his lips and one to his nose, “I love you, you know.”
“I know,” he responds with a quick kiss to your lips and your nose.
-
-
The van is entirely too tense for your liking. The atmosphere is so thick, it makes it feel like you can’t breathe. John B is yelling profusely at JJ as he drives, like he’s part of a car chase, through the back roads of The Cut to get to where his brain has focused on.
It was a pretty normal day up until about 26 minutes ago.
You were the last one to be picked up for the day, JJ greeting you at the sliding door of the van with a quick hello kiss to your lips before grabbing your hand and helping you in. Kisses got placed on everyone, even Sarah -who was pleasantly surprised, because even if she won’t admit it, she was upset to find out that you’ve kissed everyone but her- before sitting down on the floor in front of the bench. JJ sat behind you and you wrapped your arms around his legs. All of you were going to head out to the boat, spend the day on the water and soak up some sun. Just hang out like teenagers are supposed to do.
That was until a supposed cop car pulled up behind the van out of nowhere and ordered for you to pull over. John B does as told but in the blink of an eye, there’s a shot gun being aimed in his face and orders are being thrown for everyone to get out. Orders thrown for us to lay down flat in the ditch.
Something about knowing Rafe and how he’s going after people to collect money he owes. JJ was constantly telling him that you’re all a bunch of Pogues, that he won’t find anything but of course he found the cash you keep in your backpack, along with the weed you hold for JJ. There were a few other things he found that he deemed good enough to steal but you didn’t get enough of a look to see what he found. It’s like he noticed every time one of you moved because he’d be quick to aim the gun at any of you who moved and threaten to shoot.
Which is why it was so surprising when JB was able to get into the car without the guy noticing. After that, it was amazing how fast the guy ended up on the ground, wheezing and groaning in pain.
“Oh, I know this guy! He sells coke to my dad!” JJ yelled before he kicked him in the stomach.
“No wonder he was talking about Rafe.” Sarah interjected, scoffing in disbelief.
JJ punched the guy across the face once more before reaching into his pocket and taking the guys wallet. “We have one more stop to make!” he laughs menacingly.
So, that leads you up to where you are now. Pacing the front lawn of a run down drug house. Crashes are coming from inside, along with the yells and screams from JJ and John B. Every time something hits the ground, you startle, completely on edge by the whole situation. JJ has damn near lost his mind, his eyes too wide and too unfocused. If you didn’t know any better you’d say he did a line of coke for breakfast this morning.
Deep down, you know this behavior is only fueled by the way he’s been treated his whole life. That he’s reached his limit at how much he can actually take. That he’s fed up with his life and what he feels like he’s worth. He’s snapped, something you’ve been trying to prevent for years, and there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it. You’re not scared of him, you know that you’d be able to calm him down but you know there’d be a fight before that happened. A fight you don’t want to go through. It’s only been four days since your fight with Topper and you’re still exhausted from it. You’re not ready to handle a fight with JJ.
“God, they sound like they’re killing each other in there,” Kie groans, pacing just as much as you. She looks worried.
Pope stands completely still, an anxious look on his face as he stares at the front door of the house. It looks like he believes he’ll summon them out with just his gaze in the door.
And Sarah, well, she just looks out of place.
You continue to pace, anxiously waiting, not daring to look at the door. You don’t want to know what’s going on. You wish you couldn’t hear what was going on either. You honestly feel like you’re going to wear a path down in the dead grass with all your back and forth.
“Now!” you jump at the sudden voice before the screen door to the house slams open. JJ steps out with a wad of cash in his hands. “We can all have, let’s see-“ he pauses for a second as he sorts through the stack, “5 grand each!”
John B looks aggravated, like he’s talking to a child that keeps asking ‘why’ for absolutely no reason, as he follows closely behind JJ.
“What are we doing! Stealing from drug dealers now?” Kiara exclaims.
JJ stares at her, throwing his arms around. “Aren’t you guys tired of this? We got a gun! A gun pulled on us today. We were robbed! Us!” JJ exclaims, face red. “I don’t know about you but I’m tired! I’m tired of being treated like absolute shit just because of where we live!”
You stare on in complete shock. JJ’s lips are parted and his eyes are wide, breathing ragged. This is a whole other type of anger that you’ve never seen out of JJ before. You’re not too sure how to handle this.
“Relax, JJ,” John B continues after him, his anger showing through as well. He starts pushing up against JJ, getting in his face.
“How’d you feel, huh? That shit was right there in your face,” JJ argues back.
“I’m putting it back,” John B moves to snatch the bag JJ has in his grasp and that leads to JJ shoving JB up against the van, hard. The impact of it echoes around the small area you’re in.
“You feel like a tough guy, huh?” John B snaps, not even trying to fight against the hold JJ has on him. He knows that JJ would never lay a hand on him, no matter how mad he got. “What will you do when he comes for us?”
“We punch him, in the throat,” JJ retorts, his voice coming out low and threatening. It does fit with JJ, he shouldn’t be capable of getting his voice to sound like that.
JB scoffs, “Oh, good fuckin’ idea, JJ.”
JJ steps back, a relieving sigh coming from you as he does, “I’m not putting it back,” he mutters and shoves past JB and gets into the van. From your vantage point, you can’t see him inside. You’re still so shocked to the spot, you can’t move. It’s only a few seconds of everyone just standing around before he gets back out. “What!?” he snaps.
“We’re sick of your shit.”
That seems to get you to snap out of whatever trance you’re in. You finally look away from JJ and look at everyone else. The worried look on Pope’s face, at his best friend's obvious breakdown. The indifference Sarah radiates because she doesn’t know JJ enough to feel any other way. The anger in John B’s stance as he looks at his best friend and the recklessness he’s showing. The disbelief on Kiara’s face as she looks at JJ like she’s never seen him before, “Yeah, you’re pulling guns out on people shit.”
“JJ come on man, put it back,” Pope tries to reason but JJ just snaps.
“Pope, come on! I took the fall for you, I owed 30k in restitution. The charges may drop but they can still sue me for that money. Might as well be ahead of the game!”
“I didn’t ask you to do that!” Pope exclaims.
“Yeah, well I did. Sorry for caring.” JJ mutters, looking around to everyone. He misses your frame, like he forgot you were even with them. “You know what? I’m just going to go by myself.”
All you do is watch as JJ starts to walk away, his head is down and you can see the hurt in his face as he walks by. The mask he holds up every day, faltering as soon as he can’t be seen anymore. He meets your eye and the wild anger that was there seconds ago is gone, all that’s left is watery eyes and disappointment. You take a step towards him, to give him the comfort he needs to get through this but he just shakes his head and keeps walking.
“JJ!” Pope hell’s out but it falls on deaf ears, JJ continuing his trek out of the area.
“Just let him go.” JB sighs, “let him do his thing.”
It’s quiet, so quiet you can hear the wind in the trees rustling each leaf, as JJ walks out of sight. It doesn’t take long for the last few minutes to settle into your brain and leave your blood running hot. When you turn away from where JJ had gone, you see everyone looking to you for some sort of guidance. They know you’re the only one that can successfully bring JJ back to earth, back to the present and out of his head. It’s been that way for years now. They just look at you helplessly, like you have all the answers. And you don’t.
It makes you angrier. It angers you that JJ did this. That he snapped and decided it would be a good idea to rob someone, a drug dealer at that. You would’ve much rather dealt with him getting into another fight with someone over having to deal with stolen money.
And it makes you angry that his best friends are apparently sick of him. It doesn’t sit right with you in the slightest.
“I can believe you guys,” you shake your head at them.
John B looks taken aback by your words, “Us!?”
“You can’t sit here and tell us you support him for what he just did!” Kie yells at you, stepping forward.
“Of course not!” You shake your head, “but I’m not going to sit here and shit on someone who is already down. JJ doesn’t deserve you guys to be talking to him like that, like you’re sick of him. That boy does everything he can to get things right with you guys. You mean so much to him and you’re just going to shit on him for it?”
“He’s robbing drug dealers, y/n.” Pope tries to reason but you just shake your head at him.
“One that just threatened to kill, each and every one of you.” You argue back, “Yes, stealing probably wasn’t the best thing he could’ve done and I’ll try and get it back so we don’t get into anymore fucking trouble. But, for you guys to turn on him the second he does something you don’t agree with is a bit fucked.”
You step towards them again, not realizing you were so far away from the group to begin with, “Pope, I know you didn’t ask him to, but he just took the fall for you so you wouldn’t lose your scholarship opportunity. He told me it’s because he’s not worth more than jail time, that you have so much more to look forward to than him.”
“Kie, who was the first person to accept you back into the group after you wanted to experience life as a kook? It was JJ. He sat there multiple nights, telling us that you haven’t changed, that you’d still be the same Kiara you were before. The one that’s understanding and supportive of everyone’s reckless behavior.”
“And John B,” you frown, “JJ was the one that was there for you when your dad went missing. He held you through the nights, made you eat and drink water. Did everything in his power to bring you out of your pain, while he was going through his own set of pain. He made sure you didn’t lose yourself when you lost your dad.”
“And for me? He’s been there for me through so much shit, quick to smile just so I would smile back. He could be in so much physical and emotional pain but he’s the first person to smile. The first person to crack a joke. The first person to offer comfort just because he doesn’t want people to feel what he feels from someone who is supposed to care for him. He may act like a jackass or someone who is tough and happy but he’s not. He’s really not.”
“You guys don’t see the way that mask falls off as soon as he’s alone. You don’t see how he beats himself up over the tiny details of his life. How he views himself as nothing more than a piece of trash for not being able to stand up to his dad. How he thinks he’s going to end up just like him. He’s scared, terrified of losing us. It’s why he’s so quick to fight, to protect, to make sure we’re happy. We’re literally the only thing, the only good thing, he has in his life. And you hurt him today.”
You hang your head after your rant, the weight of your words leaving you feeling empty after having said them. Your shoulders ache a bit but it’s still quiet. “I know, none of us agree with the stealing of the money. It was stupid and dangerous. But you didn’t have to tell him that you’re tired of him. You could’ve let Pope follow him like he wanted, to show him that he’s not alone.”
“Well, you didn’t follow him either.” Sarah steps in.
“He told me not to. I respect him for that. He knows what he did was a bit much. He wants to calm down, he was just mad that we all could’ve just died.” You shrug, looking around to everyone. They all look a bit guilty, realizing what it is that they just insinuated to their best friend.
“We didn’t mean it in a bad way,” John B says, running his hands through his hair like he’s stressed. And he is.
“Yeah, but do you think he’ll take it that way?” You question, eyebrow raised.
“We just want him to calm down.”
You nod, “I get that but you could’ve gone at it another way. That’s just me though. I’m gonna go home though. Be there just in case.”
Before they have a chance to say anything you walk away, in the opposite direction of JJ because you live in opposite directions. And that sudden thought makes your heart drop at the realization that JJ might try and go home. To show his dad that he can do something right, that he can get the money to pay off his debts.
You don’t hear from JJ for the rest of the day. Just your unread message of I know, to his I love you, you know, that he sent a few minutes after he left the group in the afternoon.
-
-
You didn’t see JJ until the following night. And when you did you kinda wished you hadn’t. You wish he hadn’t gone missing for over 24 hours. You wish you’d seen him all day and that this wasn’t the first time you were seeing him. As soon as your eyes landed on him, you knew something was wrong. Something went terribly wrong.
You and Kie had been together all day, running errands and shopping, picking up things for the movie night, dinner, at the Chateau. The Pogues all decided it would be a good idea because you knew that JJ would show up and they wanted to apologize to him. Everyone was worried about him, having not been able to locate him since he’d gone off the walls. But you knew him, you knew no matter how upset he gets about his friend, he’ll always come back to them. Always.
“I’m really worried about JJ,” Kie had said at one point. The two of you were picking up his favorite candy when she said it, looking forlorn into the shopping cart.
You felt her pain, but you shrugged nonchalant anyway, not wanting to alarm her with just how worried you were. If you were overly -which you were- worried about JJ then everyone knows it’s bad, “Shit happens in friend groups, Kie.”
She looked like she was close to tears, “But we’re not a normal friend group. We’re family.”
You nodded at her and held her in the middle of the market.
Now you felt like you were the one that needed to be held.
The sight in front of you was wrong. It didn’t belong in front of you. It didn’t belong anywhere near here yet, here it was staring you right in the face. You want to close your eyes and when you open them back up, you want it to be gone but you knew that wasn’t going to happen. Your heart is lodged in your throat and it was going to stay there until you knew everything was going to be okay.
“What did you do, JJ?” Pope gasps, in absolute disbelief as the three of you come up on JJ sitting in a hot tub, surrounded by hundreds of Christmas lights.
JJ looks up and scans over you, Kie, and Pope. You can barely see his eyes over the brim of his sunglasses. Why is he wearing sunglasses at night? You’re not too sure. “Oh, good you’re here. Come on, you have to get in right now! I have a jet going in my butt!”
He’s drunk, overly so, but that doesn’t stop him from drinking the champagne in his hands, right out of the bottle. Pope just drops his jaw, “How much did all this cost?”
“Well when you look at it; the generator, petrol, lights.. I don’t know? All of it?”
“All of it!?”
“All of it.”
“You spent all that money in one day?” Pope exclaims, leaning forward in his spot. It sounds like he doesn’t believe it. Like he doesn’t even want to.
“Yeah, burned a whole right through my pocket!” JJ waves his hand flippantly like it’s not a big deal. When it is. “But I mean, like, look, come on guys look at all of this.”
His voice is too high. It’s tight and too pitched to sound normal. To sound like he’s not seconds away from snapping. It brings tears to your eyes as you watch from the sidelines. Watch as your boyfriend crumbles right before you.
“Kie, what?” JJ says, causing you to look to her. She looks pained, absolutely shattered. “I mean,” JJ laughs but it’s anything but joyful. It sounds just as pained as Kiara’s face looks. “Can’t a man have a little luxury in life?”
He waves his hands dramatically. Showing off what he’s done outside of the Chateau, desperately looking for approval. That what he did was the right thing. “All this, scrapin’,” he trails off, as he rips off the sunglasses. “Come on, guys,” he looks around again, his eyes lingering on yours a bit longer before looking to the water. “I mean, like, guys, we-“ his voice cracks and he takes a desperate breath in. You find yourself copying his breath. “You only live once, right?” His hand comes up out of the water as he limply holds up one finger. Like the movement is too much for him.
The look on JJ’s face as he makes eye contact again screams sadness. Screams validation. He wants, so desperately for you to agree with him, for all of you to agree with him. But he doesn’t realize everyone is on the verge of tears, the breakdown too much for anyone to handle. His face wobbles a bit and you can see it pinch up through the steam around him. He’s seconds away from tears.
When no one responds, he does his best to wipe away the emotions. He fails. But he shakes his head and keeps going, “Enough of this emotional shit. Come on, get in.”
“We’re not-“
JJ cuts Kie off in a second, “Come on, get in! I almost forgot! There’s a disco mode.”
Fountains of water spit out across the surface and different colored lights shine through each arch. JJ smiles triumphantly and throws his arms up in the air, leaning back against the side of the hot tub again.
“Are you kidding me!” Pope shouts and your tears fall at how fast JJ’s face paints his disappointment. “You could’ve done anything else with the money.”
“You could’ve given it to charity!” Kie interjects, sounding a bit annoyed now. JJ turns his head to the side and rubs at his eyes. His breathing is calculated and you just know he’s doing whatever he can to stop from crying.
“Better yet,” Pope exclaims, “You could’ve given it back!”
“Ok, well you know what!” JJ yells, “I didn’t-“ he stands up and the ground almost falls out from underneath you at the sight, “I didn’t do that! I got a hot tub!”
Your hands shake against your face, just as much as JJ’s voice shakes. The deep, dark, bruises littering his abdomen and ribs, glues you to the spot. You can’t do anything but gape at him. When did this happen and why hadn’t he come to you, to anyone. Where did he go when he was clearly not okay, mentally and physically. Kie and Pope just stare, clearly not knowing what to do with themselves and most likely thinking the same exact thing. JJ just keeps clambering on, like he didn’t just shake the very ground you stand on.
“For my friends! Actually no, screw friends, for my family. I got a hot tub for my family!” His voice is shaky and still too high pitched. He looks and sounds frantic as he keeps moving back and forth in the hot tub.
“JJ, what the hell?” Kie cries out, trying to interrupt him.
If he hears her, he ignores her, “Look at what I did for us! I did this for us! So we can be a family!”
“JJ,” She tries again.
“No,” JJ holds up a hand, shaking his head desperately. “No, stop. Stop being emotional. It’s fine, okay?”
The way the word okay flies out of his mouth, fast and unsteady. The quiver his lips make around the word, breaks the spell that was put on your body. You work on taking off your shoes as fast as possible. Not once looking away from JJ as he bows his head and sucks in deep breaths through his teeth.
You pull off your last sock as he starts talking again, “It’s sweet? Yeah?”
You crash into him as he cries out, “Just get in.”
Wrapping your arms around him, you pull him into you, like you have many times before, and the movement punches a sob right out of him. He leans his entire body weight onto you and just sobs. It only takes a few seconds before you feel another pair of arms. “I just couldn’t take it!” he sobs.
His body shakes against yours and he holds onto you so tight it knocks the wind out of you a bit, “I can’t take him anymore!” The sobs hit at full force, leaving him breathless. “I almost killed him.”
You hold on a bit tighter, running your hands up and down his back. You’re trying to force every ounce of comfort you have in your body into his. Feed him what he so desperately craves. “I just want to do the right thing.” he cries out, sounding so small and vulnerable it shatters your heart into pieces.
“I know,” you and Kie whisper at the same time. You’re glad she’s here. Pope comes in next, his arms wrapping around everyone. JJ lets out a sigh as three pairs of arms wrap around him before he lets out another sob. His weight being held up by the three of you. “I know.”
You’re not too sure how long you’re there, standing in the middle of the hot tub, just listening to JJ sob but you know it’s more than half an hour before John B walks up, startling everyone a bit. JJ has calmed down enough and is just being held while he sniffles every once in a while. But his sobs come back as soon as John B asks, “What the fuck is all this?”
John B looks alarmed and quickly let’s go of Sarah to climb into the hot tub, immediately wrapping the group up in his arms. Once he’s here, knowing that there’s a stronger force, you let out your cries. It hurts to see JJ in so much pain, to see him suffering so much. You want to protect him from everything. You want to go to his dad and fight him, make him hurt the way your boyfriend does. But doing that would do nothing to help JJ. If you were to get hurt on JJ’s behalf, once again, but by his dad he’d never forgive himself. And that would hurt him even more.
You want to hold the broken boy in your arms until he’s pieced back together and is never in any pain ever again. But you know that’s not possible, that’s not something that can logically happen.
But what you can do is help him get out of physical pain. Help him get comfortable and hold him until he sleeps. Hold him until he receives the love and comfort he wants and needs. And that’s something you will always do.
“We should get out,” you whisper but everyone hears you. Even Sarah, seeing as she rushes forward to start helping you guys out. After a few moments it’s only you and JJ, the rest hovering around the steps to make sure you can get him out. He clutches on a little tighter when you try to step back, “JJ, baby, come on. We’re gonna get out.”
He nods a bit, his lips brushing the skin of your neck briefly, before he pulls away. He doesn’t go very far before he rests his forehead against yours, blinking languidly at you. He looks so tired and it rips your heart to shreds. A deep breath fans out across your face and his eyes close as he pushes his forehead heavier into yours. You stroke his cheeks and place a kiss to the corner of his mouth, running a comforting hand through his hair.
“Come on, baby, let’s go.” He nods his head once more and moves away. You grab his hand and four other hands reach out to help him out. John B gets his free hand first and basically picks him up and out of the hot tub. Once he’s steady on the ground, he immediately turns back to you, watching you get out. He looks so hopeless, young, vulnerable, and seconds away from crumbling to the ground. It only takes you a few seconds to have him in your arms again and moving towards the house.
“I’ll start dinner,” Kie murmurs, nodding towards the bathroom. You smile gratefully at her and shuffle towards the bathroom while the others move into the kitchen. They give you all curious glances before they’re out of sight and you’re alone with JJ.
You sit him down on the toilet and move around to get the shower started. Getting a glass of water from the sink you shove it in his hands and make him drink it. Once he’s done, you fill it up again and give it back with some pain medicine this time. He finishes it quickly and looks up to you. His eyes are watery and red, his bottom lip trembling. You’re not much better, you caught a glance of yourself in the mirror, but you try to hold it in for him. He continues to look at you as you brush your thumbs over his cheekbones, under his eyes, and move a hand through his hair.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his bottom lip quivering once again. You start to shake your head, shaking it the whole way down as you try to place a shaky kiss to his lips. He doesn’t kiss back. “No, stop it. I don’t deserve it. I fucked up.”
“JJ, no-“
He cuts you off with an abrupt shake to his head. “No! I did. I fucked up. I always fuck up. My anger gets to me and I’m sorry. You don’t deserve someone who is going to fly off the walls every time something goes wrong. I robbed a fucking drug dealer for fucks sake! And I didn’t even give the money to something good, I wasted it all. All of it.”
JJ let’s out a painful cry as his body deflates, his head coming to rest on your stomach. “I can't do anything right.”
“You were scared of us dying, baby, it’s a decent reason to fly off the walls,” you try to reason but he just vehemently shakes his head.
“No, you shouldn’t be with someone like me!”
“JJ, please. We went over this a few days ago!”
“And look at what all has happened since then. You fought Topper and got hurt because of it. You still have the black eye and the limp from your leg being fucked up! We almost got killed, I robbed a drug dealer, I got beat up by my dad and I almost killed him! Can’t you see how fucked up this is. You don’t need to be here with us! With me!”
You let out a choked sob as he stands up, pushing you out of the way. It's getting steamy in the bathroom, too hot, and it’s making it even harder for you to breathe. JJ looks at you with his own tears in his eyes, “I can’t keep putting you through this.”
“No!” you cry out, hiccuping at the force of it. “No, JJ! I have been with you since I was 9! Nothing has fucking changed! We’ve always loved each other, we just kiss now! You’re not going to end this just because you feel like you’re not worth it! If you weren’t worth it, I wouldn’t have stuck around as long as I have!”
Your chest is heaving and you feel like you’re on the verge of a panic attack. You need to get out of here. Shaking your head, you back up to the door, “Shower, JJ. I’ll put fresh clothes on the sink for you.”
JJ’s entire face crumbles and his shoulders slump forward as if you took every ounce of energy out of him. “I-“
“No, shower.
Stumbling out of the bathroom, arms wrap around you as soon as you’re in the hallway. They’re strong and familiar and you break down as soon as they hold you to their chest. Kie is in front of you a few moments later, cupping your face in her hands and trying anything she can to get you to focus on her. Your breathing is too harsh and your vision is spotty. The next thing you know, your legs are barely holding you up and then you’re on the ground. John B holds you to him and he tries to get you to breathe properly.
It’s all too much. The events of the last few days finally catching up to you and breaking through the surface at full force. JJ getting hurt, twice, by his dad. The Pogues almost dying. JJ stealing a large amount of money. JJ trying to end it, twice in the same week, just because he’s feeling so low. It’s all too much and you just don’t know what to do. The love you hold for JJ, for this entire group, outweighs anything in your life. There’s no way in hell you’d ever be without them. No matter what you go through with them. You choose them every day of your life. It’s never been any other way. Ever.
Kie is still in front of you, her hands still holding onto your face. Her thumbs are swiping across your face and she’s trying to say something but you’re not picking up on it. Blood is rushing through your ears and pounding around in your head. Absolutely no other noise is coming through so you just shake your head, anything to let them know you can’t hear them. Kie seems to understand and she places your hands on her chest, keeping them there. It takes you a few seconds but you realize she’s trying to get you to copy her breathing.
It works. You start to follow her. Follow her hand movements and feel her breathing under your hands. Soon, you can hear everything once more. Kie praising you, John B trying to soothe you, Pope’s voice mumbling from somewhere in the distance, Sarah talking a bunch of nonsense but calming nonsense.
“I’m okay. Everything’s fine. Just lost my breathing there for a second.” You mumble, sitting up a bit. Kie reaches out to you quickly when you sway in your spot a bit. You do feel a bit dizzy. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Come on, let’s get you some food and water,” John B says, hoisting you up with him as he stands. “You know JJ isn’t going anywhere. He’s not going to break up with you.”
You nod, “I know. It still panics me to hear it.”
Sarah comes up next with the food you and Kie had bought earlier in the day and a glass of water. You smile thankfully at her and sit down at the dining room table, not making any movement to eat it. John B sits down in front of you and places a hand on your knee, “Has this happened before?”
“Mm, remember that time about 5 months ago when I didn’t come around for a few days? Right after the first time JJ’s dad beat on him in months?”
Both Kie and John B nod. “JJ was unbearable to be around,” Kie groans.
An unamused chuckle falls past your lips and you shake your head, “Yeah.....” you trail off. “He told me that he wasn’t worth it. That he was too weak to be with me. That if he couldn’t even defend himself against his father then he wouldn’t be able to handle anything else, even a relationship. I told him to leave and only come back when he came to his senses. It was harsh but I needed him to realize the only thing that changed was that we kissed, now.”
“He’s scared of losing you,” John B states.
“He is,” you agree, “of all of us. He feels if he does it on his own terms, it’ll be ok. That we’ll leave if we think he’s weak. But he doesn’t always think like that, it’s only when he gets into it with his dad.”
It goes silent after that, the words sinking into everyone’s brains. You pick at your food a bit, eating a few bites as Kie puts together plates for everyone else. Sarah sits down beside John B and Kie comes to sit next to you, placing a comforting hand to your leg. Sending her a quick smile, you grab her hand and hold it to you. The conversation starts to pick up around you and you try to listen, you really do but your mind is just quiet. It’s blank to anything other than JJ.
Your heart aches at the thought of JJ being in pain. Physical or emotional pain. He does stupid things but he doesn’t deserve the things he goes through. There’s not much that he hasn’t gone through since the time you’ve met and you’d like to be able to protect him from the bad things of the world. No matter how often he tries to push you away when he feels like he doesn’t deserve the love.
“Okay,” Pope breathes out as he walks into the dining area. “He’s out of the shower,” he comments, resting a hand to your shoulder, “are you okay?”
Glancing around at everyone, they’re all staring at you expectantly. If you could guess, they’ve probably been staring at you long before Pope asked if you were okay. You nod and you’re about to give a more reassuring answer when you hear shuffling behind Pope. He turns around and you get a full few of JJ, he’s wrapped up in a hoodie that’s too big for him, his face is swollen and a bit blotchy. He looks like he would be twelve and it makes your heart clench in your chest, a lump forming in your throat at his glossy eyes.
He looks at you and only you, “Can we go to bed?” You look away and to your hands, to the one that Kie has wrapped firmly in hers. “I’ve calmed down, please?” When you look back up at him, the glossiness of his eyes is now watery with unshed tears. “Please?”
There’s absolutely no way in the world you’d ever be able to say no to such a sad boy. To the boy in general. JJ turns around as soon as you stand up and you don’t even think twice about following him. He gets into bed, turning his back to you and you follow. You wrap yourself around him, shoving an arm under his head and one around his waist. Both hands press flat into his chest as you mold yourself against his back. Knees to knees, chest to back, and JJ lacing your fingers together.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, placing a kiss to your fingers, “I know that you wouldn’t be with me unless I was worth it to you. I’m sorry that I get knocked down so much that I feel useless to everyone. Especially you. I never want to be anything less than enough for you.”
You press a kiss to the back of his neck, “You’ve always been enough for me, JJ. Always.” You pull on his shoulder a bit, trying to get him to turn over. When he does, you place a hand on his cheek, soothing over the skin there, “You’ve always been enough for me, JJ. You have nothing to apologize for. You’ve been beaten down your whole life, that is not your fault.”
A tear slips down his cheek and you wipe it away. The motion makes him press a kiss to your wrist. “You’re the person that keeps me going,” JJ whispers. “I’m nothing without you.”
“Don’t say that, JJ.” you shake your head. He’s so much more than that. So much more. “You’re caring, loving, protective, sympathetic, and empathetic. I’m just a perk to your qualities.”
That pulls a giggle out of JJ. A few tears slipping from his eyes at the surprise of laughter. You push forward to place a kiss to his lips. Loving the feeling of him actually kissing you back this time. He pushes in deeper, an arm around your waist, pulling your bodies flush. You kiss with so much intensity, it knocks you on your back and JJ follows, hovering over you as he kisses back with just as much. It makes your blood warm, makes you feel like you’re on fire as his free hand trails down over your waist, over your hip and to the back of your thigh to hitch it over his own hip.
The passion being exchanged is absolutely mind blowing, your brain short circuiting at the overwhelming feeling of love flowing between the two of you. It’s ardent and you want nothing more for it to continue but when you slip a hand over JJ’s ribs, he winces, sucking in a deep breath against your lips.
“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, quickly switching positions with him and pushing up his hoodie, “I forgot.”
“It’s okay. I definitely just forgot about them.” JJ wiggles his eyebrows at you as the hand on your thigh moves to caress the skin. “Let’s continue to forget about them.”
You place three quick, consecutive, sticky kisses to his lips before moving down to place one on his chin, to the base of his neck at his throat. Before placing delicate kisses over the battered skin of his torso. JJ’s breathing hitches in his throat and he lets out a watery sigh when your lips brush over the sensitive skin of his ribs. The hand on your thigh squeezes tightly at your movement, almost as a warning, but you ignore it and continue to sprinkle your love over the bruises on his skin. You know it won’t heal them but you can wish that it will.
A groan is punched out of JJ when your tongue lightly brushes over one of the bruises above his belly button and you chuckle a little bit. He’s turned into a bit of a heaving mess, gasping for air. You know it feels weird, like a mixture of pain and pleasure and JJ has no idea how to react to it. So, he just breathes heavily. He moves one hand to lace his fingers with yours as the other rests at the bottom of your spine.
Placing a few more kisses to the bruise over his right rib, you pull his hoodie back down over his stomach, and move up to place a few kisses on his neck. He moves his head to the side to give you some room and you suck a bruise into the juncture of his neck, right where it meets with his shoulder. A soft moan escapes him as you do. “There,” you kiss over your work when you pull away. “A good bruise to look at. One from love, not hate.”
The breath JJ lets out sounds more like a sob and he pushes into you once again. Wrapping his arms around you and shoving his face into your neck, he’s almost completely settled on top of you once he gets comfortable. He kisses at your skin, where he can reach, a few times and squeezes you as if you’re the only thing keeping him alive. You hold him back tightly, giving him the comfort he needs.
“I love you, you know,” he murmurs.
You kiss at his hairline, “I know.”
He doesn’t fall asleep until he repeats his I know, back to you.
-
-
JJ was finally feeling back to normal. The few days after his breakdown in the hot tub, things were a bit tense. A little too quiet for his liking. The day after, he laid in bed all day really only getting up to pee. He didn’t eat until you had come back to the Chateau, after doing something with your parents, and forced him to eat something. You had to basically force feed him to eat the food you made for him. He was grateful for you, you kept him together when all he wanted to do was break down. JJ was positive that there’d never be another person to care for him quite like you do.
Yesterday, the entire Chateau was empty when he woke up and it unsettled him a bit. It was never a good thing when it was quiet around there and he didn’t think he could handle anything else that was bad. He wandered around a bit, pulling on a hoodie because he didn't really want everyone else to stare him down, until he found everyone sitting at the hammocks. It was barely sunrise and he was confused as to why everyone was up already for no reason, and why they hadn’t woken him up either. You looked up from your spot in the hammock as he approached and held your arms out. He climbed in with you immediately and fell asleep only seconds later, to the sound of you quietly talking with Kie. The rest of the day was spent in bed with you, everyone giving him space to regroup. It was nice. He got kisses and other things that made him feel like himself.
Then today, everything is relatively back to how it should be. With loud laughter, stupid jokes, and sarcastic comments. Today is a day out on the HMS Pogue and JJ is absolutely loving it. There’s nothing he loves more than being out with his friends. With the people he loves and cares for the most as you all do stupid shit togeher. It’s his favorite thing. Also, to feel your skin against his, especially when it’s a bit warm and sweaty. That just feels nice. It's a major plus.
You’re currently resting against his side, his arm slung over your shoulder and his hand resting comfortably between your boobs. You’re laughing at something Sarah said and it’s probably the most relaxed he’s seen you in a few weeks. Your head thrown back, nearly resting on his clavicle and your hand slapping against his thigh. He wishes he was paying attention to what was being said, just so he could repeat it to see you laugh like this again. So carefree, the way that you should always be.
The sun is beating down harshly on everyone, making everyone sweat just a bit but no one seems uncomfortable by it. In fact everyone just settles in more, sitting in complete bathing suits and drinking beer.
“Did you guys really start dating? And not tell us?” Pope asks out of nowhere, completely unprompted. But the more he stares at Pope, the more he realizes he was just lazily kissing at the side of your neck where he just so happened to be resting his head.
“Yeah!” John B exclaims, resting back in the drivers seat of the boat, Sarah settling with him, “What the fuck is up with that?”
JJ shrugs, “Wanted to be able to mack on my girl in private.”
“JJ, shut up.” You laugh, sitting up and making him go with you. “We just wanted to make sure it was serious? I guess. Wanted to make sure that it wasn’t just silly feelings from knowing each other for so long. It would’ve felt different if everyone knew.”
“We wouldn’t have judged,” Kie says, leaning in with her elbows on her knees.
“It wasn’t about that,” You shake your head, “it was more like, nothing is really private with us. We share everything with each other. And this was something that needed to be figured out with just the two of us. Nothing really changed between us so then we just kinda forgot to mention it.”
JJ can’t help but wrap an arm around you. Kissing you the night that he did was the best decision he’s ever made in his life. He took a leap of faith and it was the right thing to do. The moment you kissed him back he knew that everything was right, nothing could ever be wrong about his decision. He had a feeling things were changing between the two of you for a few months. Jealousy was shining through when one or the other would end up flirting with someone at a party. Touches were getting more intimate and possessive. The flirting was getting more and more serious.
You have been a constant in his life since he was nine. Always the first person who was willing to listen to his crazy ideas or go on his absurd adventures. You were the first one he went to every time his dad hit him. The only person that ever saw him in that moment of vulnerability. And that’s still to this day. You’re the only person he trusts, truly trusts. He knows that you’d never turn against him with the things he’s told you, shown you. You have years of knowledge on him, and he you, that you could crush him in a heartbeat but he knows you never will. You’ll never betray him. Even if you weren’t in his life anymore, there’s no way you’d ever do that. He just knows.
And he doesn’t even want to think about that possibility. You not being in his life just doesn’t make sense. He doesn’t want to find out what it’d be like.
“You know, we’ve known for months.” Kie laughs, pulling JJ out of his thoughts.
You gasp at her words, “What? How?”
“I saw your guys’ first kiss.” John B smiles, looking all sorts of smug.
“I’m pretty sure you didn’t,” JJ chuckles, taking a sip of his beer. “It was at a party only we went to when we were 14.”
“Wait, what?” You question, turning to look at him.
JJ smirks, “Mhmm, remember the first time you smoked with me?” he looks to you for affirmation. When you nod, he continues, “Remember the game of truth or dare? You were dared to make out with the person you thought was the hottest. It was me.”
Your mouth drops open in shock, “Holy shit. That’s right. How could I forget?” The red suddenly tinting your cheeks is enough to make JJ’s heart skip a beat. To know he has such an affect on you, makes him feel good.
“You can’t handle your shit, baby,” he teases, leaning forward to flick at your forehead. You gasp and try to smack him but he grabs your wrist, leaning in to kiss you instead.
“Who knew they could get more annoying?” Pope groans. “You guys should’ve kept this to yourselves.”
“They were getting sloppy Pope,” Kie shrugs, “they wouldn’t have been able to hide it for much longer. You see the gross amount of love that oozes out of them when they look at each other.”
Everyone starts laughing but you just look at JJ and the look that's shining in your eyes is the same one they’re talking about. He knows the same thing must be reflecting in his own eyes because you lean forward and press a sweet kiss to his lips. On that he greedily accepts and returns. He smirks when he pulls away, placing a kiss to your forehead.
“So, John B what kiss did you see then?”
“One night in the hammock, like last year some time. I saw it and then the next days you guys were just different.” He shrugs, pulling Sarah into him some more.
You move into his side once again and look to Kie, “When did you notice?”
“Like six months ago?” She turns her head from side to side, trying to remember. “It was after breakfast at John B’s one morning. You guys thought you were alone in the kitchen. JJ was the one cleaning the kitchen, oddly, and you were on the counter by the sink. The way you were talking, it was about a date and you said that you loved each other but it was different than the way you’d usually say it. I left after that.”
JJ’s heart is starting to beat a little quicker in his chest. Something about talking about you or your relationship together just makes him excited. He loves it. He loves you.
“Pope?”
“Saw the secret hand holding at The Wreck one afternoon. Thought it was weird, seeing as you held hands all the time. There was no need to hide it but your fingers were doing that soft caress thing, it was obvious.” He says the whole thing like he’s disinterested in the topic. It makes JJ laugh.
“I think it’s amazing how long you’ve all known each other.” Sarah smiles and it makes a smile appear on everyone’s face.
John B then decides it's time to move the boat, to go somewhere to swim. Everyone gets excited, standing up and removing any leftover clothing, while the boat is moving, so once it’s anchored the swimming can begin without any sort of hesitation. It was too hot out now.
But then the boat comes to an abrupt stop and a few high pitched screams fill JJ’s ears before a splash of water. He’s been jolted to the very front of the bow, hitting his head on the seat there. It takes him a moment to connect the dots before he stands up to make sure everyone is okay. Kie and Pope are a couple inches away from him, groaning as they sit back up. John B rubbing his head, clearly hitting it on the window in front of him. And Sarah regains her balance as she stands up from the bench behind John B. You were nowhere in sight.
“Y/n!” He yells out, scrambling to his feet. “Baby! Where’s y/n!”
That seems to knock everyone out of their stupor and scramble to their feet. “JJ!” you groan out just as he spots your hand on the side of the boat. A cry rips through you as JJ and Pope rush to try and pull you up into the boat. You rip yourself away from them before they even get a chance to reach you properly.
“Baby, what’s wrong? Come on, grab onto me!” JJ yells, trying to keep in his panic. He has no idea if you’re hurt or not and the fact that you’re crying isn’t helping settle him at all.
“JJ! Please get me out of this fucking water!” You yell out, reaching up for him once more.
He immediately bends down, the panic in your voice, making him desperate to get you into the boat. He hears everyone else yelling, asking what happened, wondering why you’re having such a hard time getting out on your own, asking if you’re okay. But he ignores them all, finally getting his hand in yours and reaching down below your elbow to haul you up. Pope on the other side doing the same. You crash into him and with the force of his movement to pull you up and over the edge, he falls back into the other side of the boat, you landing on top of him.
You cry out in pain and flinch away from him, “Holy shit,” Pope gapes as he helps sit you up.
“What!” JJ exclaims, sitting up, running his eyes all over your body to find what’s wrong. It doesn’t take long for him to land on the giant red mark covering almost the entirety of your abdomen. “Oh, fuck. A jellyfish got you?”
“What?” You gasp, looking down to where his attention is. Kie shoves a water into your hand and Sarah sits behind you, wrapping her arms across the top of your chest. “Fuck,” you sigh out when you catch sight of it.
“Did you not feel that?” John B asks and JJ looks up to him for a second before back to you, trying to catch your eye. If you didn’t feel that, something else must be wrong.
“No! I think my ankle is broken!” You yell out, startling JJ a bit. He trails his eyes down your body until he reaches your ankle and fuck. Yeah.
“That looks broken,” Pope voices his thoughts perfectly.
“What the fuck happened, John B?” JJ snaps, his anger getting to him quickly. You getting hurt is the quickest way to get him angry. He hates seeing you hurt. In any way.
“The last storm must’ve changed the stream or something. We hit a sand bank. We haven’t been out here since then,” John B explains. “Let’s get back to the Chateau, we have to get y/n to the hospital.
JJ grabs your face in his hands and wipes away the water there. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”
“No, I don’t think so,” you breathe out. It comes out in a harsh breath, like you’re in too much pain and it sends a wave of panic through JJ. You’re never one to show that you were in pain unless it was an unbearable amount.
“Are you sure?”
He watches as you clench your eyes shut, trying to regulate your breathing. You just nod your head, not opening your eyes again. JJ places a kiss to your cheek and moves down in a line until he meets your lips. He lets out a breath when you kiss him back. Anything to keep you distracted. He pulls back and looks around to everyone else, not knowing what else he can do. Kie has a hand gripped tight in hers, Sarah is running her fingers through your hair, and Pope is holding your leg steady from the bouncing of the boat. JJ feels absolutely useless.
And it’s like you can sense his distress because you grab onto one of his hands and squeeze tight. “JJ stop overthinking. Tell me something. Tell me a story.”
So he quickly jumps into recounting one of your many dates. Asking if you remember it. Telling you how you looked in your outfit, how you made him feel. How much he loves going on dates with you. How he likes that you like to go surfing with him, hiking, biking, anything that requires physical activity. You giggle and laugh at parts that are funny, at how he nearly puked before picking you up to go on your first official date. Everyone else joined in on the laughs too. Soaking up the information they’re receiving.
It helps because you stop crying and wincing at every little movement and it helps calm JJ down as well. He picks you up into his arms when the boat docks and everyone rushes to gather the necessities and get you to the van. JJ lays you down and rests your head in his lap as he continues to tell you about how much he just loves doing simple things with you. Grocery shopping. Clothes shopping, the dishes. Eating food. Anything he can think of, he tells you. He just wants you to know how much he loves you. It’s the only thing he can think of doing. He doesn’t know why but it’s the only thing rattling around in his brain.
How much he loves you.
When the van pulls up to the hospital, everyone is still in a mad panic. It startles the nurses and those in the emergency room when 6 teenagers come bursting into the waiting room, in near hysterics. They don’t really handle each other being in pain well.
The nurse forces him to stay in the waiting room, putting a hand to his chest when he tries to follow you back more than once. You look at him and tell him it’s okay, that you’ll be okay, and as soon as it’s fine he can come back. It does nothing to settle him and he just paces back and forth in front of the 4 other Pogues.
“JJ, sit down. She’s going to be fine.”
“I know,” he sighs, stopping. “She just scared the shit out of me. If she had hit her head instead of her ankle on the side of the boat, she could’ve drowned.”
John B stands to bring him into a hug, “But she didn’t. She’s okay and you’ll see her in a bit.”
And he was right. The doctor came out about twenty minutes later and let JJ go back since your parents weren’t there yet. The rest of the Pogues decided to wait in the waiting room no matter what, saying that they would like to see you too but for obvious reasons to let JJ go first. He’s thankful for that because he feels like he’s about to vibrate right out of his skin.
“Hey, tough stuff,” he jokes as he walks into your room. Your eyes open and you smile at him lazily.
“Hi, baby,” you murmur, reaching a hand out for him. You make grabby hands at him until he’s in reach and it makes him laugh.
He grabs onto your hand and leans down to place a kiss to your lips. You’re still in your bikini but it looks like the sting on your stomach has been taken care of and the lower half of your leg is in a black cast. “Hi, baby,” he whispers back once he meets your eyes again. “How’re you feeling?”
“Well now,” you let out a giggle, “I’m feeling absolutely great. The pain medicine they have me on is wonderful.”
JJ lets out a laugh and caresses your cheek, “You’re higher than a kite, my love.”
You let out a laugh, “Damn straight. You should be so jealous.”
“Oh,” JJ nods, “I am. Don’t you worry about that.”
You let out a content hum, nestling into his hand a bit. Closing your eyes, you rest back into your pillow. “I broke my ankle. And the jellyfish sting isn’t as bad as it looks.”
He runs a hand through your matted hair, “You scared the shit out of me.”
“I’m fine, baby,” you mumble, giving him the smile that melts his entire being. And when you open up your eyes he can see that you really mean it. “Did you really think our dates were that good?”
“Everything we do is that amazing,” JJ points out.
Pulling on his hand, you murmur, “Come take a nap with me. Please. I would like to be close to you. Help me relax.”
JJ doesn’t hesitate to slip into the bed next to you, the vibration of his skin is still there and he knows that it won’t go away until he’s close to you. You turn your back to him and he settles in behind you, curving his body around yours. His arm wraps around your middle and his hand comes to rest on your chest, your steading heartbeat calming down the vibration of his body. You melt down against him and he just holds you to him even tighter.
“I would appreciate it if you stopped getting hurt,” he murmurs, moving your hair out of the way to kiss at the back of your shoulder.
“Yeah, so would I.”
“How about we both stop getting hurt,” JJ suggests, his kisses moving up to the side of your neck. His heart rate has calmed down significantly in just the few seconds of laying here.
“I can do that,” you hum, resting further into his front. “You don’t have to promise it, but just know I’ll always be there to help you when you do get hurt.”
JJ feels a lump form in his throat at your words. He knows what you mean, it’s not something you have to explain to him. You turn your head to look at him up and over your shoulder, a smile gracing your face. JJ nearly cries at the sight, the beautiful sight that it is leaves him breathless. When you pucker your lips, JJ obliges, swooping down in no time and pressing a firm kiss to your lips. His skin tingles at the feeling and he wishes you were anywhere else than in a damn hospital.
“I love you, you know.” You smile at him, kissing at his lips once again.
“I know.” he says against your lips.
If there’s one thing he knows. He knows that you love him. That you’ve given him love every day since the day you met. The only person to give him continuous love, love that he needs. And he knows that you know how much he loves you. How much he will always love you.
So, when you finally fall asleep, nestled in his arms, he sleeps. He sleeps comfortably. The only way he can, when you’re with him
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
please feed my narcissism
my masterlist is in my bio
#outer banks#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#outer banks x reader#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank obx#outer banks imagine#kiara carrera#sarah cameron#pope heyward#john b routledge#jj obx#jj one shot#jj maybank angst#my writing#mine#obx
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Stupid waiters
A/N: Hope you enjoy.
Summary: Tom had a special evening planned and the waiter tries to ruin his mood.
Warnings: Bit of swearing.
W/C: 2.1K
Tom was incredibly annoyed as he watched the waiter flirt with you. He’d just come back from filming and he had a special evening planned with you but this guy was ruining that plan and his mood. You hadn’t noticed or if you had you hadn’t said anything. He watched as the waiter placed your drink in front of you and flirt very obviously (in Tom’s opinion) with you and he didn’t even spare Tom a glance. He huffed as the waiter walked away.
“You okay?” You asked him as he clenched his fist under the table.
“That guy is pissing me off.” He mumbled.
“Why?” You asked with furrowed brows and he scoffed lightly.
“Y/N, he is all over you.” Tom pointed out.
“Is he?” You asked looking genuinely curious, you hadn’t noticed.
“It’s so obvious!” Tom almost raised his voice.
“Tom, calm down.” You laughed lightly. “I’m here with you and I think that’s pretty obvious. I’m not interested.” You said as you reached your hand across the table that he gladly took as you laced your fingers together. He felt his annoyance wash away, you were right and this was a special night. You were here with him and he knows you love him, there’s not a second that’s gone by where he doubts that.
“Okay, I’m sorry.” He muttered and you squeezed his hand lightly.
“It’s fine. A little jealousy is healthy, I’ve been guilty a couple of times.” You laughed.
The main course arrived and although the waiter was continuing to flirt a little Tom found himself only slightly irritated now. That was until the waiter cleared the mains and offered a desert menu.
“Can I interest the lady in a desert, I’m sure I can recommend one as sweet as you.” Tom’s blood was boiling now and he watched as you cringed at the god awful pick up line.
“I don’t know, baby do you want one?” You asked Tom as you put emphasis on the nickname. That’s right dickhead, she’s not interested, she’s mine Tom thought and instantly cringed at his internal thought. You weren’t some toy he could lay claim but he was pissed with this guy.
“Yeah, we’ll have a look.” Tom answered as he watched the waiter visibly deflate as you made it clear you were here with him. He couldn’t help his smirk as he waiter wandered off for a menu.
“Okay, fair play. He’s pretty obvious.” You laughed.
“I don’t get it, you’re clearly here with me. Why is he carrying on?” Tom groaned as you shrugged your shoulders.
“I must just be irresistible.” You teased as you brought your glass to your lips.
“You are.” Tom said in such a matter of fact manner that you snorted.
“Lighten up. It’s not like it’s gonna work.” You playfully rolled your eyes.
“That’s not the point.” Tom said as the waiter returned with the menu. He eyed your almost empty glass.
“Another drink for the lovely lady?” He asked and you politely accepted and Tom nearly swung for the guy. He’d stepped up his flirting now from when you’d first arrived. Tom clenched his jaw at the interaction and he felt you smooth your thumb over his hand that was still on the table.
“It’s Y/N by the way, if you are going to insist on calling me anything it should be by what most people that aren’t my boyfriend do.” You said in a polite but stern way. He knew you weren’t one for conflict but he appreciated that you were reminding this dickwad that you weren’t interested.
“Y/N? That’s a beautiful name.” The waiter said with a wink and Tom nearly blew his stack, face going red with anger as he clenched his jaw so hard he worried he might crack his teeth.
“Erm, thanks.” You said awkwardly. The waiter smirked and Tom swears he saw his eyes drift towards him for a second before he left.
“Tom, calm down it’s okay. Don’t let it ruin your mood.” You tried to calm him down. “I love you okay and I’m here with you. I love you.” You smiled at him and he returned a tight lipped smile as he tried to regain control of his anger. He was calming himself until the waiter returned and just seeing him made Tom’s blood boil.
“Any desert?” He asked as you gave him your order, Tom hadn’t even looked at the menu.
“We’ll take the sticky toffee pudding and two spoons.” You answered for the both of you as you watched Tom shift in his seat. The waiter glanced at Tom for a second, smirking before he spoke.
“That desert is a lovely choice. Very sweet.” He said and he put so much emphasis on the words that Tom knew now he was trying to wind him up. Your hand found his as you squeezed again in a failed attempt at calming him down.
“Are you serious?” Tom said through gritted teeth as the waiter looked at him in fake innocence and Tom could have ripped his head off there and then for ruining his mood and plan.
“Apologies I didn’t mean to offend.” He said before walking away and Tom ran his hands through his hair messing it up slightly.
“I swear if he carries on I’m gonna hit him.” Tom grumbled and you gave him a sympathetic smile.
“I’m sorry Tom. We’ll go after this.” You said and he huffed.
“No, I’m sorry. I’m letting it get the better of me. I don’t mean to.” He said, had it been any other night he’d probably have contained his anger and annoyance better.
“No Tom, he’s being inappropriate. I’d be upset if I were you.” You smiled at him. You wanted to make him feel better as you watched the waiter return with your desert and although it was slightly inappropriate in such a lovely restaurant you found yourself standing up and Tom watched you with furrowed brows. You smiled at him as you made your way round to him and sat on his knee as you turned his face to look at you and connected your lips in a sweet kiss. One of his hands instantly finding your waist and the other holding your cheek.
Tom could swear he heard the waiter scoff as he walked away and you disconnected your lips as you smiled at him.
“I love you.” You whispered against his lips and he grinned.
“I love you darling, thank you.” He watched as you made your way back to your seat and he found his anger washing away a little at the gesture you’d made. He really did love you.
You ate your desert and it was actually very sweet as the waiter had said and you both enjoyed it. When he cleared the plate, looking much more deflated than previously you asked for the bill. When he brought it back, Tom got his card out to pay and the waiter made the grave mistake of bringing up one of Tom’s insecurities.
“At least he pays, I suppose it makes up for all those nights he leaves you alone.” The waiter said to you in a jokey manner and you visibly gulped. Of course this man knew who Tom was, he’d booked it under his name and who didn’t know who spiderman was? You watched as Tom snapped his head towards the waiter and his face was red with anger.
“Pardon?” Tom spat.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you but I assume when you film all these movies you leave her alone. I’m just reminding her that not all men would do that, you know, some men would be there all the time.” He fired back as he crossed his arms over his chest. Was this guy trying to lose his job?
It didn’t matter what you said, Tom always worried that he was neglecting you when he had to leave. Of course, you didn’t see it this way and told him so all the time, he didn’t have to be with you physically to be there for you and he proved that all the time. This guy had no idea what he was talking about. You felt your jaw drop at his rudeness and complete brazenness. He would not be coming back here to work ever again. You made you way over to Tom as you grabbed his tense bicep in your hands.
“Tom, leave it. It doesn’t matter what he thinks, he doesn’t know what you do for me or a single thing about our relationship. He’s not worth it.” You said as you tried to get him to calm down, that wasn’t happening.
“I have watched you throw yourself at my girlfriend in an embarrassing manner tonight. She made it clear she wasn’t interested and you persisted, which by the way, is wrong whether she is in a relationship or not. I will be reporting you to the manager of this place for your rudeness. Thank you for ruining my fucking evening!” Tom shouted at him as he made his way towards the exit.
You were dumbfounded for a second as you heard him shout. Sure, Tom had put people in their places before but this must have really bothered him, it took a lot to make him shout. You scrambled after him and had to almost run to catch up.
“Tom. Tom!” You shouted as you tried to get him to slow down. When he turned around you could see his bloodshot eyes and as you reached him you saw the tears brimming them. You placed your hands on his face and made him look you in the eyes. “Tom, forget what he said. You are there for me all the time. I know you go away to film but that’s okay, I’m happy for you to pursue your career, you deserve it, you’re so talented. Tom, I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that you don’t have to be there physically to be there for me. I love you and I don’t want anyone else.” You said and he sighed, looking down.
“It’s not just that. He ruined everything. I had this whole evening planned and I was gonna ask you to marry me and then he reminded me that you deserve better.” Tom rambled through his tears and you felt the breath get knocked out of you. He was what?
“You were- Tom what- you were gonna what?” You stammered out as you felt your heart rate increase. Tom must have realised what he’d said and he snapped his eyes to yours.
“Shit. I wasn’t meant to say that. I’m sorry.” He stuttered out before he took a deep breath. “Look I was gonna ask you to marry me tonight and he just-“
“Yes.” You interrupted him and he looked at you for a second, eyes wide.
“What?”
“Yes, I’ll marry you.” You said as tears made there way down your face, all happy, and he grinned.
“Really?” He asked as he fished around in his jacket pocket.
“Tom, I love you, you get me on a level no one, not even my family, ever has before. Of course I’ll marry you. No stupid waiter who doesn’t know what he’s talking about is gonna change that.” You laughed as he grinned and took the small box from a pocket in his jacket.
“At least let me do it properly.” He said as he got down on one knee, taking your hand in his. “Y/N. I know I’m not always here physically but I will always be there for you, wherever I am in the world. You make me a better person and I couldn’t be more thankful for you. You always push me to do better and you are my rock and I hope I can always be that for you. I promise I will always try and reciprocate the insane amount of love you give. I love you. So, Y/N L/N, will you marry me?” He asked and tears of happiness where finding their way down both of your cheeks.
“Yes, I love you so much.” You cried as you lunged yourself at him, almost catching him off guard as he only just caught you in a hug. You loved Tom and he was everything you wanted, needed and more.
#tom holland#tom holland imagine#tom holland one shot#tom holland x reader#tom holland fluff#tom holland angst#tom holland x y/n
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Unspoken Trust, Unspoken Fears
Gathering my thoughts on Sasha and Marcy’s dynamic before S3 proves me wrong shows us what’s going on with these two.
It’s time to look at The Dinner and Battle of the Bands, and then use it as a guide to read the room in True Colors.
No worries! You just gotta speak their language. - Sasha, Reunion
Or in this case, know when to stay quiet.
Sasha gets really really frustrated this episode. Like, so bad, that if that Volcakeno didn’t erupt, she might have been the one to end the friendship. Even Marcy and Grime couldn’t calm her down. But that’s the thing, before this point, they were the only ones to get through to Sasha without provoking her.
Grime keeps Sasha in line; she rolls her eyes and is clearly annoyed every time she has to hold herself back, but her willingness to keep it cool shows she ultimately agrees with Grime’s plan and sees it as the best path to success. When Marcy chimes in, it’s with a helpful answer to Sasha’s question. She reminds Sasha of why they stopped Doing Thing by explaining how their plan failed. She avoids judging Sasha for it, and frames it as the repercussions of their actions, as a group. Marcy is on Sasha’s side, so Sasha doesn’t put up any defenses. When Sasha decides to avoid arguing with Anne however, it isn’t for Anne. It’s for the plan, for her and Grime.
Marcy has enough faith in Sasha to believe she’d never want to purposefully hurt Anne, but is careful about broaching the subject. Sasha feels attacked very easily, and will quickly trivialize or downplay things if she feels the other person is being unreasonable or doesn’t ‘get’ her.
And that is the only time Marcy speaks up besides The Big Argument. She only jumps into actual conflicts if things get too heated. Otherwise, she just lets Sasha do her thing, and lets Anne argue with Sasha... sort of.
This isn’t collaboration. It’s a hostile takeover. Why do things always have to be your way?
Now, for the bait and switch. Let’s talk about Marcy’s behavior in Day at the Aquarium and New Wartwood, and Sasha’s in Toadcatcher and Barrel’s Warhammer… while tying it all back to Battle of Bands!
You didn’t tell me you were writing a song! Let’s do it! I mean, if that’s okay with you, Sasha.
In A Day at the Aquarium, Marcy’s first instinct to Anne saying she’s going back with the Plantars is to make a plan. To show that it isn’t actually what will benefit Anne’s Goals. She doesn’t even consider opening up as an option, and avoids saying anything that could cause conflict. New Wartwood, Marcy tries to chat with the citizens of Wartwood and get to know them. But when that doesn’t work, she decides that impressing them with her knowledge and usefulness is bound to make them like her. It has to.
It does seem simpler.
Trying to win people over by claiming a plan is of mutual interest and necessary, carefully choosing which words to use, viewing relationships as a puzzle to be solved… this isn’t the sort of thing Marcy needs to do to get along with someone like Anne. It’s how Marcy copes with Sasha. Sasha lashes out and belittles bad ideas. Sasha has to be convinced the plan benefits her, suits her. Vulnerability and love aren’t enough to make her care, so Marcy does what she can to prove she’s worth being around. She might even sometimes wonder if Sasha actually likes her, or just likes what she can do for her. She rather not find out.
Whenever she’s afraid of people not liking her, or is worried that she’ll lose them, she dives right into those bad habits. She can give her opinions, but they aren’t supposed to get in the way of what Sasha wants. She’s supposed to say “That’s amazing! What do you think Sash’?” not “Let’s do it!”
Listen. There’s another reason why I’ve been training so hard. To protect the one person I know I can count on right now. You. You’re right, I already lost one friend. I’m not about to lose another. - Sasha, Toadcatcher
In Toadcatcher, there’s that scene, where Sasha looks at the BFF picture and the wind cuts off Anne for a second so it’s just her and Marcy. This is where Sasha is at. Anne might have rebelled, but when Sasha reunites with Marcy? Oh, she’ll show Anne, one way or another. They’ll get her back (like, joining the team or revenge wise, depending on Sasha’s mood.)
Listen here you buffoon! What’s it gonna take to prove that you should follow us? - Barrel’s Warhammer
Aaaand Sasha freaks out royally when she learns the two are alone together and doing just fine. On some level, she fears Anne and Marcy “getting along without her” because it means they might decide they don’t actually need her to make plans; that she isn’t necessary to have fun. In the The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers, we see that isn’t as big a catastrophe as Sasha seems to think it’d be. As time goes on, the girls do gain a healthier relationship to their feelings about Sasha, but that doesn’t mean they’d want her gone even if they don’t need her there. But Sasha doesn’t know that, she doesn’t even consider it till reuniting in The Third Temple. All she knows for now, is that she can be a bit... much... so if she isn’t in control, if her way isn’t “the best”, why would Marcy put up with her either?
Listen. If things get too wild out here, just give me a signal and I’ll call the whole thing off.
For sure, teach it to us Anne.
Every Sasha plan starts with an empty reassurance. So much of Sasha’s dialogue follows a pattern where she says stuff like “we’ll call it off” (she did not call it off) and “for sure, I don’t mind” (she did mind) that it could be it’s own game. Sasha talks the talk, until it gets in the way of what she wants.
Sorry guys, but we’re way to close to bail. I am not going back empty-handed.
It’s good. I just have a few tiny notes that I think could make it even better. ... Boom! Fiixed it!
If they just follow her lead and let her fix it, everything will work out. They should believe in her and trust her. After all...
That’s not true! Besides, we did it. ... You’re not actually gonna throw this all away are you?
I just wanted all of us to succeed. I was just being a good friend. Why couldn’t they see that?
It all worked out, right? Percy and Braddock made it out okay even if she didn’t follow through on her promise. They won, she’s reliable. But of course, Sasha lost something more important than their belief in her abilities, she lost their trust. In Battle of the Bands however, Sasha recognizes that Anne and Marcy don’t want to follow her ambitions and will be pushed away by them just like Percy and Braddock were. So she takes it upon herself to end things, accepting that she’s lost.
Sorry it took so long.
Except this time, she manages to realize that maybe “what she wants” is to be there for her friends. Sasha’s finally had the space to relax and really think about what she wants, at least a little. This isn’t a real battle after all. Doing things her way all the time isn’t as important as she thought. Maybe she should trust in her friends more. A change of pace isn’t “wrong”, just different. It’s fun.
Sorry we lost, Sash’.
Just like Percy and Braddock, Marcy knows Sasha is capable. She understands that Sasha just wants the team to succeed. That’s why she apologizes when Grime beats them in the competition. She wants Sasha to know she appreciates what she did, but keeps it a bit indirect. She gets Sasha probably didn’t want to push them away. Marcy tried to catch herself and back Sasha up, but when Sasha had her argument with Anne, she stayed quiet. She couldn’t bring herself to go against Anne.
That was ultimately for the best, as Sasha learned a valuable lesson. Except... She’s in too deep with the rebellion to back out now. This is the episode she’d spill the truth and give up on the whole thing, except... Grime. A part of her knows leaving would make Grime her enemy. She can’t risk that. So, she keeps going with the plan. She decides she’ll somehow win it all back. Because the thing she’s actually most afraid of, is losing another friend.
Sorry things got a little crazy back there. You guys good? ... Sheesh, don’t be a sore loser. Look, I’m gonna stay here and get this toad regime off the ground, but I can totally send you two home if you want. Or, you can stick around and give me a hand! So what’d’ya say?
Sasha’s final offer; the last chance she’s giving the girls to stop acting weird and go back to being her obedient friends who do what she wants. Sasha lost at Toad Tower, but now she’s won. So Anne should go back to normal, she’s supposed to, like some unspoken “rule”.
And Marcy is supposed fall back in line too. The offer and apology are just as much a plea directed at her. Sasha’s trying to be generous, in her own awkward way. She has bit her tongue so far. She’s thrown a temper tantrum or two, but she hasn’t been this forward in asking Marcy for help till now. She wants Marcy to say that everything’s okay. Make it clear she doesn’t think she’s the bad guy, and that she forgives her and wants to be there for her. That they’re on the same page again. She wants Marcy to help make Anne look overly dramatic and silly for making such a big deal of all this. Sure, if Anne figures that out by herself, that’d be great, but if Marcy could just speak up.
But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.
Marcy’s too busy worrying about Anne’s reaction. Knowing that she’ll be upset about this. She doesn’t dare side with Sasha, and is disappointed and betrayed that she actually did something like this. Marcy already has her own secret plans, so when she finally tries to calm things down, all she can give is a non-descript “we can still fix this”. And then, she’s once again shocked when she sees Sasha threaten Anne and the Plantars. Seeing Sasha act so willing to actually hurt people rather than just push them around... it finally hits her just how serious “tried to kill them” was. And of course, losing Anne or being sent home with her would completely mess up her own plans.
Sasha’s isn’t a vulnerable person. She’ll go on about loving her friends if it makes her look good, but she actively avoids doing anything that could be seen as “weak”. She wouldn’t dare ask Marcy to drop Anne and choose her. If Marcy isn’t speaking up, she can take the hint. She still isn’t on her side, and so she gets sent to the dungeon along with the rest of them.
Marcy accepts that Sasha has become an obstacle, but a part of her still hopes the three of them can work through all this. If they do things her way, nobody has to get hurt. She'll figure out a way hold everything together, fix everything, like always.
And then Andrias betrays her.
Yeah, what plan?
Sasha stops talking once she realizes what’s going on. Quietly fuming as Marcy explains herself. The music box, the suggestion to take it back to Andrias... that wasn’t Marcy being the sweet, supportive friend who Sasha thought she could always rely on, who believed in her... that was Marcy using her. It was never going to become their plan; Marcy never trusted her and was actively working against her. Sasha lost Anne, and she never had a chance at getting Marcy back, either.
Sasha smacks Marcy away when she desperately tries to justify herself. She doesn’t want to hear it anymore. She’s furious that Marcy thinks they could be friends after something like this, after she’s manipulated them and claimed it was for their sakes. This whole time, her goal had been avoiding the move with her parents. And coming here has only torn them apart even worse.
Marcy reaches out to both girls. And when Sasha rejects her, she clings to Anne, hoping at least she’ll find it in her to forgive her. That she’ll understand she cares about them even if she messed up. Marcy knows they’d probably never pick her over their families or ambitions, so she told herself this place offered those things too. Made them all better people. But as she says her excuses out loud, she can’t find a single one that feels right. She was just afraid of losing them, and now, she’s managed to hurt them on top of that.
But the thing is. After all that. Despite how betrayed and hurt and angry Sasha was, she looks like this:
Sasha realizes this must be exactly how Anne felt about her betrayal. It isn’t just an abstract “hurt” or “bad thing” anymore. She can also sympathize with how Marcy feels and why she did it, at least a little. She can’t imagine being able to forgive this, and yet... when she looks to Anne with that apologetic look, she isn’t just hoping Anne will forgive her. She’s also asking for permission to forgive Marcy. Pleading that they all still have a chance to move past this together.
#implying toadcatcher is subtextually about Marcy#naturally these are all just my assumptions and guesses#jottin down theories and observations#and often the tone is 'what sasha thinks' or 'what marcy thinks' rather than a birds eye opinion on the situation#anne gets through to sasha and marcy with a mixture of vulnerability and honesty#it sometimes backfires and they still tend to hide a lot of their feelings#but standing her ground and finding herself really did inspire others too#sasha seems to trust marcy even if anne's messed the group dynamic up#so I wrote this under the assumption she's paying more attention to anne because well#anne is the one who 'betrayed' her#she doesn't need to worry about marcy (so she thinks)#sasha also seems to think she's 'manipulating' and 'convincing' her friends when she's simply invoking fear in them#because while she does like control the idea of them not sincerely adoring her screws her up#sasha and marcy both seem to get into these situations where they feel helpless#where their plans are 'the only option'#and they become so focused on it they fail to realize what they're sacrificing in the process#sasha straight up refuses to believe grime's warnings that she'll push people away#and marcy is desperate and doesn't think she has anyone to rely on except andrias#while marcy probably does play the game to get sasha to do what she wants sometimes#I kinda love how they've deconstructed the whole concept of a 'leader'#neither of them are really 'in control'#they're just needlessly overcomplicating their friendship#learning marcy knows how to play sasha does explain why she falls so easily into the lieutenant role though#sasha really takes other people's plans and goes 'our plans <3' haha#amphibia#sasha waybright#marcy wu#amphibia spoilers
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team spirit
pairing: k. sakusa x fem!reader x a. miya
genre: college!au, smut, 18+ minors dni
word count: 2.6k
warnings: threesome, semi-public sex, daddy kink, spitting, a spank, a tiny bit of choking, tit-fucking, degradation, a little coercion, curruption, gaslighting, voyeurism, a subtle age gap (freshman vs. senior in college), cum play, cum eating. nothing too crazy and everything is consensual- it’s just pretty dirty lmao
a/n: in a radical act of self care i have given up on kinktober as it was killing all love that i had for writing. i present to you a piece written solely because it made me h-word. thank you to the love of my life @hqbbg for beta reading, you have my soul and share my desire to be mask-man’s little bitch.
hymn: smells like teen spirit by: nirvana
“Didn’t I tell ya’, princess?” Atsumu’s voice is low and sharp against the shell of your ear as he brushes away a rogue strand of hair from where it fell from your high-pony. The action gentle, the tone unmistakingly galled. “I told ya to behave, but ya’ never want to listen to me.”
The grip he has on you is bruising, fingers nestled on your hips, large hands scrunching your pleated cheer skirt and exposing you to the almost empty locker room. Your boyfriend’s hard-on is distinct against his shorts, pressing against your bare cunt. Your hips buck desperately in his hold, but any fight is useless. There’s no way Atsumu will give you more than just minimal friction; only enough to make you dizzy and malleable in his capture.
Atsumu isn’t oblivious. He’s fully aware of how sweet you look every week, cheering on the sidelines of his games, donning his jersey number in a heart on the apple of your cheek. Having the prettiest little member of your college’s cheer squad in his bed every night never fails to fill him with an almost evil pride. Ever since the beginning of the season, your first year in college, Atsumu has been on you. The moment he first saw you, skin sheened with a layer of sweat and workout shorts riding up high enough to see the angelic curve of your ass cheeks, you were his. He totes a fine line, dancing between cockiness at his prize girlfriend when you’re hit on or ogled, and egregious rage.
Game-night started the same as any other: Astumu sneaking away before warm-ups to kabedon you against the wall when you walked out of the girls locker room. You always flush red-hot, no matter how many times he traps you, fiddling with the pom-poms in your hold. He grabs them from you, tossing them without care onto the ground to pull you tightly against his hard chest, your wrist pinned against the front of your uniform top in one of his hands. The rest of your squad walks by the two of you without much thought; the scene unfolding is rehearsed at this point. It seems like the whole student-body ignores the two of you.
“You act more like a horny teenager than a senior in college, Atsumu.” You puff your cheeks out and glare at him from the fringe of your perfectly curled eyelashes. The fake-blond towering above you snorts at your defiance.
“Well, you act more like an old prude than a freshman in college, princess.” His lips dip lower to fan over yours, “And my name ain’t Atsumu.”
Your knees feel weak trapped in his grip, his presence a strange mix of comfort and distress. You’re welcomed home into the den of a lion. You gulp down a painful air bubble trapped in your throat and mumble an apology.
“I’m sorry, Daddy.”
It seems to please the arrogant setter, earning you a chirpy laugh as he twirls a piece of your hair in his finger. You hate when Atsumu seems upset with you, so relief washes over you at the light gesture. He releases his hold on your wrists and pulls you into a sloppy kiss. You melt into the feeling of his lips, his hands rubbing up and down your arms lazily, causing your body to slack against him. Atsumu’s attention always renders you compliant (often against better judgement).
“I’ve gotta go, but make sure I hear ya’ cheering out there for me, sweetheart,” he says after letting go of your lips with one last nip. So begins the quick restoration of your uniform from where it was misplaced by setter fingers. After you’ve collected yourself under the watchful eye of your senior, you bend at the waist to pick up the stray poms and feel the swift union of Atsumu’s hand against your ass. You scoff at his childishness, even though you had expected it. Game nights are always the same.
The same round of cat and mouse, the same suffocating sexual tension and embarrassing public display.
The only anomaly tonight is the lecherous stare of your boyfriend's teammate on your folded body. A stare that shouldn’t belong to the curly haired man fixes onto you and the view of your tight pair of spandex has turned him into stone.
Pride is a cardinal sin, and so is lust.
“Do ya’ like what ya’ see, Omi? She’s a pretty little thing ain’t she?” Your eyes snap up to meet the gaze of the man in front of your disheveled form. Sakusa’s eyes are dark and cold; his expression reads indifference, but the hard cock in his shorts is clearly seen. He’s frozen in place a few feet in front of the bench you’re displayed on. Your crisp white sneakers are on either side of Atsumu’s built thighs, knees bent and held in place by the man under you. Your uniform top and bra have been pushed up unceremoniously, freeing your tits to bounce slightly with every squirm. Sakusa watches every jiggle of soft, supple skin in front of him. The tent in his boxers is becoming painful with every heave. Both hands are pressed stiffly to his sides, left hand clutching your white, cotton panties. The fabric is damp, sticking slightly against his fingers and making him cringe. Disgusting.
Atsumu’s hand wanders down to spread the puffy lips of your pussy, long middle finger proading against your tight hole. Atsumu growls at the feeling of your arousal, not wasting any time sticking a digit into you with practiced movements. You whimper at the intrusion, legs feeling weak and shaky from their strained position as Atsumu adds a second finger with ease. He always knows exactly how to work you over, rendering you at a loss for words with his prodding against the spongy anterior of your pussy.
“Y/n is always such a little mess on her daddy’s fingers.” His middle and pointer finger are pulled out with a resounding pop and his palm lands a harsh pat against your clit. “Do you like putting on a show for Sakusa-san? He seems to fancy ya’, doesn't he?” You’re asked a question but can only yelp in response as Atsumu’s fingers are shoved back into you, pumping with fervor.
The tall man in front of you is only partially familiar; aside from volleyball games and visiting your boyfriend at practice, you’ve only seen Sakusa at the occasional party or team dinner. He’s never seemed too keen on getting to know you before, but now he’s palming himself at the sight of your most intimate angles completely open for his viewing pleasure. Sakusa’s slightly flushed cheeks and boring stare causes your cunt to clench around Atsumu’s fingers. Ever the painfully observant man, neither the tightening muscles nor the reason behind it is lost on the blond.
“Ya’ like being watched, that’s why yer sloppy pussy’s extra wet tonight, huh?” You shake your head frantically, not wanting to admit that the heat rising in your stomach is due to your voyeur’s deep brown eyes. Atsumu is a prideful man, some would say too much so, a fact he’ll have to atone for later. One thing he isn’t? Greedy.
“Omi-omi~” The singing of the stupid nickname seems to snap Sakusa out of his stupor as he flicks his eyes to meet Atsumu’s. “Don’t be shy, c’mere.” Sakusa is still working long strokes over his confined cock, stepping forward to further invade your personal space. Atsumu’s chin rests against your shoulder, face amused and casual, disconnected from what his hands are holding.
All you can do is look up at the looming figure, black hair falling in front of his face and mouth set in a harsh line. You’re eye level with the bulge in his shorts now, so close you can almost feel the fabric against your lips. Every sense is overwhelmed, crowded in the abandoned locker room with your boyfriend working you open in front of his teammate. Sakusa reaches out and runs his finger over the uniform top that sits wrinkled up above your breasts. His calloused pad runs over the article in a moment of contemplation, before pinching your hardened nipple. A surprised yelp falls from your lips along with the already tumbling whines.
Distracted by your new company, Atsumu’s cock releasing from his shorts goes unnoticed. With the dark, inky stare keeping you hostage, you only realize his fingers are being replaced when the hardened tip is pressing into you. A pathetic squeal rips through your throat at the breach. No matter how many times Atsumu stretches you out on his fat cock, it burns every time.
“I think ya’ should help Sakusa-san out, princess.” Another few inches disappear, your shaky balance is corrected with one of Atsumu’s hands wrapping around your neck, “Since it’s yer dirty little body that’s got ‘em all hard.”
The intonation wracks you with guilt, looking up at Sakusa with bleary, begging eyes. You’re not sure what exactly you’re begging for.
There’s no restraint left in Sakusa, having used most of it up when your panties were ripped off and tossed to him with a cheeky wink from his setter. He shoves said garment into his pocket before pushing his shorts and boxers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your eyes roll slightly at the sight in front of you, impressive in length and pleasantly veiny. Right under his head, you see two freckles, noting they almost mimic the ones right above his eyebrow.
Atsumu’s cock is snugly inside you, buried to the hilt, and you're pulled back into his broad chest by the grip on your throat. Sakusa holds himself at the base, stroking upwards and swirling his thumb against the precum collecting at his tip. He leans over you, slapping his head against your tits experimentally. The reaction Sakusa gets seems to be the one he was seeking, as your whispered cries thump to the same beat of his length against your skin.
“Such a nasty girl. You always look so sweet and innocent cheering for us. Does he fuck you like this after every game?” Sakusa has found his voice, regarding you coolly. Tears prick at your eyes, any retort caught behind your teeth as you stare back dumbly.
“Answer ‘em princess,” Atsumu lifts you up slightly to slam you back down onto his heavy cock; the sound is squelching in the stale air around you, “tell ‘em how you cream on Daddy’s cock after everyone leaves.”
“I- please, I-” You’re cut off by your own mewl when a string of saliva breaches Sakusa’s lips and falls towards your chest, watching as it ascends onto the valley between your tits. As it rolls down your sweat-sheened skin, the black-haired man rubs his weeping cock down the map his spit makes. Your brain is fuzzy at the attention of both men, warming your boyfriend's cock as his teammate grinds himself on your naked chest.
Sakusa grabs your wrists, causing your thighs to wobble weakly from their squatted position, and presses your palms to hold your breasts against his shaft. The pressure has Sakusa’s head falling back as soft, warm skin welcoming his shallow thrusts.
“Such a complaint little pet you have, Miya.” His hand brushes against your cheek and trails downwards to find purchase on your chin. “Dirty little girl,” his voice coos you, “Open wide.”
Your mouth falls at his order, fussing weakly at the nickname. Another sharp putt meets your ears and his warm spit hits the fattest plane of your tongue. Tears escape at the sides of your eyes with the overwhelming presence. Atsumu begins a slow assault on your aching pussy, removing the hand on your throat to pull your hips against his lap. The rhythm is a salacious duet with the cock nestled between your tits and has you clenching even tighter.
“Ya’ better not swallow Omi’s spit until I say so, princess. Keep that wicked tongue out for him to paint.” You do as you're told, as always, tongue lolled out with a pant. At your passivity, Atsumu rewards you with tight circles to your throbbing clit. His cheek presses against your own, peering over to watch his friend’s cock against your chest with wonder. Such a distinct beauty is found in the ruined body on top of him. As much as Atsumu appreciates the sweet, loving moments that he shares with you, the sight of your precious body bent to his will makes his dick twitch acutely. It’s sick how much he enjoys seeing how far he can push you-
“I’m going to cum on your girlfriend's sweet face, Miya. Christ, it’s disgusting how much she seems to want it.”
However, your enjoyment in your own depravity and humiliation is much more sickening.
Atsumu’s pace picks up, skin slapping against your sore pussy with new resolve. He wants to see you break into pieces right on the locker room bench. Your vision is spotting at the pressure on your clit, mixing with the dulled sting of being split open on the blond setter's thick cock. All you can do is produce a garbled squeal from around your dangling tongue. Sakusa pulls his cock from your chest, pumping his hand feverishly against the soft skin. The sight is almost unbelievable: a man who barely allows his teammates a high-five has your hair wrapped around his other fist. Your head is yanked back, eyes entrapped by Sakusa’s. Atsumu’s fingers are unrelenting against the bundle of nerves that now feels more like a ticking time-bomb.
“C’mon princess, don’t hold back on us. I wanna see ya’ cum right in front of Omi. Show’em how much team spirit ya’ got.” Atsumu’s teeth bite down onto your neck, angling his tip to press against that deepest spot inside of you. The fraying cord in your stomach is pulled taught, snapping at the feeling of Sakusa’s hot cum against your face, thick spurts landing on your cheer uniform and splattering against your already marred tongue.
Your own orgasm tears through you, burning deeply through every vein in your body. It’s sinful how your body reacts to the messy splotching of a stranger's cum against you, thrown head-first into release at the ministrations of the men on either side of you. Your tight rings of muscles pulsate around Atsumu’s cock, coaxing his own orgasm out to meet your silky insides. There’s nothing better in the world, Atsumu thinks to himself, than fucking his hot cum into your sweet, submissive body.
As the pair of volleyball players steady their own breathing, another menacing laugh escapes your boyfriend’s mouth. He peers over the mess in front of him, strings of cum drawing random patterns against your chest and cheeks. He turns your face towards him and smiles, finding that you did exactly as he asked. Your mouth wide, tongue still stuck out and awaiting further instruction. Such a perfect girl you are, letting Atsumu’s most debased fantasies play out on your innocent little body. Your job is to motivate his team after all, and there’s no better way to boost comradery after a win than to celebrate the best way he knows how.
“Team spirit, huh?” Sakusa tucks himself back into his shorts, leaning in to swipe his cum against your lips as a parting gift. You watch him with glassy eyes and suck on the digit when pressed against your tongue.
“That’s for sure.”
all writing is dymphnasprose’s original content, please do not repost or modify. do no read my content as asmr.©️
#sakusa x reader#atsumu x reader#sakusa smut#atsumu smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#atsumu miya#sakusa kiyoomi#sakuatsu#tw: coercion#tw: corruption#tw: gaslighting
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