#when she got the chance to escape alone he did what he could to help and spent their last few moments coaching her
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elfindreams · 1 year ago
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I’ve been dipping my toes into larp which is very great but also like. Especially with oneshots, what are you supposed to do when you’re still attached to a character but the story has ended and the made-up world they inhabited and the other characters who they’d interacted with no longer exist, so they’ve just Ceased To Be, where are those feelins supposed to gooooo
#admittedly the LARP today was uhhh. weirdly not well-written on several levels and I’d be iffy about playing other games by the same author#and the basic story premise was pretty dark in the first place#but we worked with it#and BOY OH BOY things went places#like the characters were all in a dungeon awaiting their execution in a few hours#for having been servants to an evil sorcerer even though some of them weren’t even working for him by choice#lots of arguing going on + debate over someone possibly snitching on the sorcerer’s apprentice to the guards in exchange for freedom#and/or how the loyal ones might help the apprentice character escape#my guy was in total despair for quite a lot of reasons but then formed a very sweet but brief and doomed bond with another prisoner#when she got the chance to escape alone he did what he could to help and spent their last few moments coaching her#on how to hide her identity and survive and find somewhere to live in the outside world#then he tried to save himself plus another character who was just a kid and didn’t deserve to be there but both couldn’t go#so he saved the kid (or at least did what he could bc there was no way of knowing if they actually got out)#and paid DEARLY for it but was totally at peace while lying on the dungeon floor as a bloody pulp because at least he’d done something good#his last IC words were something like ‘’I did what I could. I did as much as I could. I’m ready to meet god now’’.#also bc of magical fuckery as explicitly described in the rulebook it’s totally unknown where his friend ended up or whether she lived#we decided that she probably maybe hopefully survived though ;—;
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poguehearted77 · 2 months ago
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Wild Child
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summary: after being sent away to boarding school for being a wild child you're finally back and celebrating your return in the only way you see fit.
smut: pool party, ragers, drug use (alcohol, vapes n weed), size kink, Rafe is cocky, mentions of old flings, manhandling, hot tubs, they do it on her parents' bed, rough sex, step-mom slander, reader is such a flirt n a tease, curvy reader, dom! rafe, bratty! reader, skinny dipping, mentions of body shots, choking, spanking (like once).
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The morning sun was ascending high into the sky when you finally managed to get yourself out of your king-sized bed, fit for someone of your status and your parents' financial standing.
Your socked feet took padded steps towards your window where you overlooked the hills of figure eight. This was the first time you'd looked out your bedroom window in years. With a deep inhale a soft smile etched its way across your lips. You were finally home, and you had the house all to yourself. Or so you thought.
Your ears pick up on muffled indistinct chatter that managed to travel from the kitchen, down the halls up the elaborate staircase and into your room. Quickly, you headed for the source of the voices and were disappointed to see your dad and his wife plaything, Maria, conversing over coffee at the kitchen island.
"I thought you said the Jet leaves at dawn? What are you guys still doing here?" You try not to sound too curious, arms crossing naturally with your inquiry. With a clearing of his throat, your dad speaks up, "You only just came back two nights ago. Maria and I just don't think it's the right time to leave you alone for the weekend."
You scoff, "Why? You still don't trust me after what happened last time? Get over it, I'm twenty-one now, you can trust me." As you walked over to the fridge for a glass of water, you heard a muted exchange of ideas behind you.
"You can't expect us to forget about all the damage you caused. We still haven't found anyone to repair my crystal vases." You take a long sip, trying to swallow your toxic thoughts with the water.
She thinks she can just waltz up and down the house with that huge ring on her finger and think that her opinion carries any value to you.
You took a deep breath and plastered on a fake smile, pitching your voice to become as sweet as honey.
"I can never apologize enough for what I did back then, but how will I ever earn your trust if you don't give me the chance." Your doe eyes land on your father, specifically his weakened composure.
You're about to break him, you can see it.
He exhales, all the air escaping through his nostrils.
Broken.
He glances down at his watch, "Fine, but if you throw another party so help me god Y/n you'll never see grass again." You play it cool, thanking him with a simple hug and completely disregarding Maria before you make your way back upstairs.
It's as though a weight had been lifted off your chest. You needed them out of the house, you'd been planning this party since you got back and made sure all the guests knew to keep it on the down low, just until they were gone.
The hours fly by, and you hardly keep track of time as you and some of your long-time friends set up the house for the party that you shouldn't be hosting, but you're Y/n Sinclair. Parties are your thing.
"Macy, you let the people in, kay? I'm gonna go get changed." The sun was beginning to set and the music was already blasting, vibrating over the marble floors of the house. Every lyric was punctuated with a shaking of the speakers that could be felt even outside.
The neighbours hated to see you coming.
You know your dad's jet was en route to Fiji and he wouldn't be able to reach you until he landed which wasn't for another six hours at minimum but by then the damage will be long done and far too late to stop.
You make your way up the stairs, the bass thumping through the house and vibrating beneath your feet. As you step into your room, your reflection catches your eye, excitement sparking in your gaze.
With a quick flick of your wrist, you reach for the strappy black and red two-piece, slipping it on, the cool fabric hugging every curve just right. Each strap crisscrosses elegantly, bold yet balanced, making you smile at how perfectly it all came together.
Next, you grab the sheer cover-up, wrapping it loosely around your waist so it drapes with a hint of movement, a playful edge that sways with you. You run your fingers through your curls, scrunching them gently to bring out their bounce, each coil framing your face in soft waves. Reaching for your lip gloss, you swipe it carefully over your lips, catching the light with a glossy shine.
One last look, and you’re ready, your heart beating in rhythm with the music below. The speakers are already blaring, the energy practically calling you back down. You step out with a final tousle of your curls, ready to join the night.
The energy crackles through the backyard as you make your way to the top of the outdoor staircase. The sun has slipped beneath the horizon, casting a dusky glow over the massive pool below, illuminated by floating lights that shimmer across the water.
The bar is buzzing with people grabbing drinks, and in the corner, the foam pit is already filling up, laughter and splashes mixing with the heavy beat of the music.
A neon sign hangs across from the bar, glowing boldly against the evening sky: The Queen of Kildare is Back. You grin, amused at the sight of it knowing it was 100% Macy's doing, and take a step down. Conversations hush, replaced by the roaring blast of excitement as heads turn your way. Hundreds of people, from familiar faces to those you only vaguely recognize from your past in Figure Eight, pause and look up, anticipation brimming in their eyes.
As you descend, your cover-up billows behind you, revealing the bold lines of your black and red two-piece. The crowd’s reaction is instant, erupting into cheers, whistles, and applause that echo across the yard.
"Y/n! Y/n! Y/n" They chant and you laugh. Every step closer to the party, you feel the atmosphere thicken, charged with that infectious blend of excitement and admiration. By the time you reach the bottom, someone’s already handing you a drink, while friends rush over to pull you in for hugs and greetings, their voices nearly drowned out by the music and shouts.
"Y/n Sinclair, s'Been a while."
There's a voice all too familiar addressing you from behind, prompting you to pivot to come face to face with a much taller Rafe than your brain could recall.
"Rafe Cameron. Long time no see." He goes in for the hug, your arms reaching over his broadened shoulders while his longer ones wrap around your waist before pulling back. He not so subtly checked you out, his tongue darting out over his lips briefly as he took you in and you did the same.
The buzzed hair sharpens his features, you think. Making his eyes seem darker, more intense, as they focus on you. His open linen shirt falls loosely over his frame, giving glimpses of his toned chest and the subtle gleam of a thin chain resting against his skin.
The shirt flutters with the breeze, barely hanging on his shoulders, hinting at the strong lines of his arms and drawing your eyes down to his relaxed, dark swim trunks.
He’s saying something, leaning slightly toward you, and his voice cuts smoothly through the bass of the party. Your eyes wander back up to his face, catching the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as if he knows he’s caught your attention.
"You look good, too good. How long's it been?" It's hard for you to think with the heat of his gaze on you, but you don't falter, never surrendering to this never-ending game between the two of you.
"About 3 years." He hums, the way he looks at you, casual yet purposeful, makes your pulse quicken, and suddenly, every sound around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the way he looks right at you, but you remind yourself to focus.
Rafe looks around the scene, eyes lingering over the wet t-shirt contest and then the game of chicken being held in the pool while others lounged on the various floaties or indulged in ungodly amounts of alcohol at the bar. As he does so, the pungent scent of weed drafts across your nostrils.
"Your old man know you're hostin' tonight?" You had to laugh, "Oh please, like he would ever let me have any kind of fun while he's in town. He and the skank are in Fiji."
The slight smirk that etches over his perfect lips taunts you. "So the house is yours?" He leans in, a little closer, closing the gap between you. "Until he comes back and banishes me again," You place a confident hand against his chest, pushing him away, "But for now, I'm here to party, and you should be too."
With that said you walk away from him, letting your hips sway with seduction radiating with each step. Rafe lets his thumb and fingers stroke over his jaw, feeling the weight of the pressure you'd just applied.
God, it was good to have you back.
The party raged on, slowly approaching its peak, body shots were going on at the bar, girls were doing lines in the bathrooms and the guys had insisted on a drunk game of volleyball in the pool.
Rafe took a break from the events of the party and watched from the sidelines on the couch, taking another hit of the vape that someone had passed to him, he's not sure he can remember who, and it wasn't relevant anyway.
The only person he had his sights set on is you. Watching you have the time of your life with your friends on the platform in the middle of the pool. Your little group, clearly intoxicated danced carefree while you'd begun to put your hands on the ground and throw your ass in circles.
Rafe choked, sitting up, some smoke coming through his nostrils at the interrupted airflow. He leaves his shirt behind on the couch with the abandoned vape, just as he heads for the pool topped hands him a beer which Rafe accepts before he gets in.
Maintaining a straight face as his body acclimatizes to the cool water he's almost immediately swarmed and roped into a round of whatever the current pool game was.
His icy gaze looks up to the center of the pool where you once were but are now nowhere to be found. "Looking for someone?" Your voice was mocking and he was grinning before he even turned around.
"I am actually." With little ripples in the water, he steps towards you maintaining a respectful distance that was driving you insane. "I was looking for someone to join me at the bar," He puts on a convincing facade but you roll your eyes, feigning innocence.
"Let me know if you find her," He slowly steps towards you and step back, "Don't play dumb with me, Y/n." Your plush lips form a gut-wrenching pout, "What do you mean?" Another step forward, another one back. The cycle repeats itself until he has you backed up against the edge of the pool.
Rafe’s hands find your waist, and before you can react, he’s lifting you effortlessly, placing you on the edge of the pool. You're reeling at the slutty display of his sheer strength.
Your legs dangle, brushing against his chest, and he steps closer, slotting himself right between them. His hands rest on either side of you, his arms framing you in as he looks up with that sly grin, every bit as teasing as you are.
“Always out here playin' games, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his voice low, a quiet rasp just for you. “Gotta say, I respect it—always sticking it to your old man, doing your own thing.” He leans in, his gaze drifting down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “Not many people around here have the guts for that.”
You scoff lightly, though your heart skips as his gaze lingers on you, intense and challenging. “Oh, please,” you tease, rolling your eyes. “Since when do you care about any of this?”
A quiet laugh slips from him as his fingers trace slow, deliberate circles along your thigh. “You think I haven’t been paying attention to you all these years?” he murmurs, leaning closer, his breath warm against your neck.
“You might’ve been gone a while, but don't think I forgot all those nights we had our fun.” His words hang heavy between you as he pulls back slightly. Now his hand rests on your waist, his voice dropping lower.
He tilts his head, studying you with that familiar glint of mischief. “Now that you're back, I think we should relive some of our traditions, for old time's sake,” he says, leaning in until his lips brush against your jaw, light and teasing, close enough to make your pulse race. He pauses, his thumb skimming your cheek, his lips hovering just above yours, waiting. “But don’t act like you don’t want this as much as I do.”
Before you can snap back, his mouth claims yours, the kiss charged with all the years of pent-up tension and that all-too-familiar heat. His hands slide up to cradle your face as you wrap your legs around him, pulling him even closer. The kiss deepens, and when he finally pulls back just enough to catch his breath, he watches you with a smug, knowing grin.
“There it is,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble against your lips, his thumb tracing your jaw as if memorizing every inch. “That look you get right before we make a mess of things. I knew it—you missed this just as much as I did.”
If only someone could recount how the two of found yourselves stumbling up the stairs towards your room, your soaked sheer cover-up left forgotten somewhere in the house after Rafe pulled it off of your frame.
"Shit-- Rafe," your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip as you reached to open your bedroom door, horrified to see two other people had monopolized it. They hadn't even noticed the door was opened so you quickly closed it.
"What the fuck, I thought everyone knew my room was off limits." With a quick scan, you noticed items were hanging off almost all the guest rooms in the hall letting others know the room was occupied.
"Shit, there's nowhere else to go in here?" You think quickly on your feet before rushing off to get something before returning with a key in your grip.
Rafe pulls you close with a smirk as you clutch the key to your father’s room, the gleam in your eyes daring him to follow. “Breaking all the rules tonight, aren’t we?” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with approval. His hand slips around your waist as you unlock the door, both of you glancing down the hall to be sure no one’s watching.
You twist the handle and push open the door, and his hand slides down to squeeze your hip, pulling you against him. “I knew there was a reason I liked you,” he whispers against your ear, his lips grazing your skin, sending a thrill down your spine.
Once inside, you barely have a chance to lock the door before he has you pressed up against it. His lips are on yours, urgent and fierce, his hands roaming over your body with possessive ease. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he breathes between kisses, his fingers tracing the bare skin of your waist as he lifts your top, letting it fall to the floor. “Thought I’d forgotten?” you tease.
Rafe just about growls, dipping down to kiss along your collarbone, his hands sliding lower as he backs you towards the bed. His fingers hook under the waistband of your bottoms, tugging them down with a smirk that sends heat rushing through you.
Your heart races as you feel the cool, forbidden sheets beneath you, the thrill of defying every rule and having Rafe look at you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted. His hands slide up your thighs, lips trailing down your neck as he leans over you. “You know,” he murmurs, voice heavy with desire as he takes in the sight of you sprawled out before him, “I always knew you were trouble. Guess that’s why I can’t stay away.”
With a smirk, he leans in, his lips brushing over yours as his hands explore, both of you savouring the thrill of being tangled up in each other once again.
"Look at these perfect fuckin' tits." He curses, big hands cupping your breasts, kneading them and rolling your nipples between his index and thumb. Your back arches slightly with a gasp, chest pressing up into him and he laughs.
"Still so sensitive here, angel? Some things never change." He reminisces and you roll your eyes, "Fuck off, Rafe." With the blink of an eye, his much larger frame was caging you in from above, his bulging biceps giving him an erotic juxtaposition in comparison to your head.
Balancing himself on one arm he slinks his palm around the expanse of your throat with a weighted pressure. "Been gone so long you forgot your manners? Mm? That's fine, I'll be sure to fuck some sense back into you."
Your eyes flutter shut at his filthy words as you feel his hand move and begin to work you between your legs. "Your pussy's fuckin' soaked--shit." He hisses, gaze hungry and his body acts on his thoughts faster than you can register.
A particularly loud moan slips from you as you feel his tongue skillfully lap over your folds, splitting you open as the warmth of his tongue protrudes into your core. "Yes, fuck! Please, don't stop Rafe." You moan, one hand reaching down to hold him by the hair and it hits you that he'd shaved it all off.
You let out a frustrated gruff, both hands fisting the sheets while you're forced to feel the vibrations of his sick laugh running through you at your dramatics. Even the tip of his nose had been covered in your slick, your juices running down his chin as he ate you out like a man starved.
He wouldn't be surprised if they could hear you from outside, but he knows everyone is far too high, too drunk or both to hear you. It wasn't long before your legs were beginning to shake and came with his name falling from your lips over and over like a prayer.
Taking deep breaths to recover from debatedly the best orgasm you've ever experienced, Rafe walked over to the far wall, out of sight, doing something you couldn't see before returning.
Without speaking he scoops you up into his arms, bridal style, another shameless display of his strength but it would be a lie to say it didn't drive you crazy. "What-what are you doing?" Your questions are ignored until he approaches the bubbling hot tub.
A wicked smirk curls across his lips as he eases you onto your feet in the warm water, his hands lingering on your waist, keeping you close. He gazes at you with that knowing glint, the steam rising around you both.
“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he murmurs, his eyes trailing down your figure, unapologetic. His fingers skim over your sides, sending a shiver through you that’s from anything but the water.
“Are you really just gonna stand there?” you call, feeling the thrill of his attention but wanting to turn the tables, your voice laced with playful challenge.
“Oh, don’t worry,” he chuckles, unfastening his swim trunks and letting them fall to the side with a carefree grin. “I plan on joining you,” he says, slipping into the water and closing the distance between you two with smooth, unhurried steps. You take a hard swallow at his size, you don't remember him being this big.
He was going to destroy you.
You raise an eyebrow, matching his smirk. “Pretty bold of you, Rafe,” you say, your voice teasing as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “Just like old times, hmm?”
“Better than old times,” he murmurs, dipping his head so his lips graze your ear, his voice a low rumble. “Because now, nothing is stopping us.” He punctuates his sentence by pressing his body up against your back, elevating you a bit so your torso leans over the edge of the tub, granting him easy access to you.
"Fuck, can't believe your ass got even more fucking perfect since last time." His hand raises and comes back down with a loud spank that pulls a sinful moan from your throat. "Rafe, stop teasing." You whine, arching your back and pressing back against him.
His composure already weekend, he decided to let you get away with it this time before he lined up the swollen head of his thick cock with your entrance, "Better grab onto something." That's the last thing you hear before you're being impaled on his dick, your upper half immediately falls forward, and he stills, giving you a second.
You're breathless, it feels like his cock was taking up all the room in your lungs. Some water had splashed over the ledge but that was the least of your worries. Your mind was hazy and focused on Rafe's grunts that escaped him with every snap of his hips.
"Wish you could see how hot you look right now. The Sinclair wild child knows how to take big dick like a champ." His words run straight through you like electricity, fanning the flames of the burning heat that was beginning to form in your belly.
"Shit--This pussy was fuckin' made for me, y'know that?" You moan at his possessive statement. You can only nod, your body had gone limp long ago as he drilled into you. "R-rafe! I'm-" As if you weren't close enough, his fingers begin to rub over your clit aggressively and you jolt with a shriek.
"Oh- fuck, don't stop! Fuck! I'm gonna cum! Please, Rafe." You beg, over and over, arms hanging onto the edge of the tub for dear life as more water splashes around you.
"Wait for me, hold it until I say you can come." You're chewing your lip raw, desperately trying to hold yourself back as he wrecks you from the inside out, his moans getting more frequent, a little more airy and breathless as he tumbled toward his edge of pleasure.
"Cum with me, Angel." Your body spasms as you finish together and he leans his weight against your back, his laboured breathing fanning your ear as you come down from your high.
"Not bad, princess." You couldn't respond and Rafe took note of this, carefully holding you up with one final smug remark, "Hope I didn't wear out the queen of Kildare."
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tojikai · 1 year ago
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Sundered 7: TIES
Pairing: Gojo x reader
‱ Part 1  |  Part 2   | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Alt. Ending
Genre: Angst
tags/cw: angst, babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, mentions of sexual assault
word count: 6.0k
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And he was happy. But never the happiest.
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Naomi couldn’t count how many calls she had made but the wetness in her cheeks is proof of how frustrated she already is. “Please, pick up.” She bit the inner side of her cheeks, tapping her feet on the tiled floor. Naomi regrets what she did. She regretted that she still proceeded despite knowing how wrong it was.
She warned herself not to be greedy at the beginning of their relationship. She remembered telling him they’d take it step by step, not rushing anything because they were determined to make it work. Now that she’s thinking about it, maybe he’s only determined because he wanted to forget about you so badly.
“Mom, please. He threw me out.” Naomi spoke on the phone, tapping her feet as she stood in the middle of her room with her things around her. She took all the things necessary and left. Satoru would probably put everything she left in the trash but that’s the least of her concern right now. She lost everything she had with Satoru and it’s all because of her stupidity.
“What did you expect? You sexually assaulted my son and you want me to help you?” The woman hissed at her. Naomi was naive; thinking that she’ll have her back just because she wanted her for Satoru. “If anything I could even get you arrested—” She began but Naomi was quick to defend herself.
“You’re part of this. Didn’t you basically tell me to use a child to keep your son?!” Tears of anger pooled in her eyes as her hands shook in fear, fury, and heartbreak. Naomi remembered when Satoru’s mom would free her schedule so she could spend time with him and Yui. She would suggest activities and let Naomi tag along and that’s how they started to fall for each other.
Or rather, that’s how she started to fall for him while he just wanted an escape.
“But I never told you to do that to my son! Naomi, do you really think someone would side with you on this?” Every corner of Naomi’s room felt like they were closing in on her, ready to squeeze her till she was nothing but dust. Of course, no one would be with her. No matter what Satoru’s mother told her, she still chose to follow it so the blame’s on her.
“For someone who finished school with flying colors, your mind is dull.” She chuckled, letting Naomi hear all she truly is. “You got a pretty face, you know? That’s another reason why you caught Satoru’s eyes easily.” At that point, Naomi didn’t know if it was still a compliment. She’s pretty and kind, and smart and perfect for him, like she said. But why can’t she have all of him?
“But I’m afraid that pretty face would be useless now. If I were you I’d go start over alone somewhere far.” She clicked her tongue, cutting Naomi’s thoughts off every time she tried to voice them out. “Like, imagine graduating only to get jailed over some dumb, desperate shit? Naomi, you screwed up. And that’s why you lost all chances with my son.”
Naomi shook her head, the warmness of her emotions dampened the smooth skin of her face. “No, you made me
” She breathed out, covering her mouth before running her fingers through her hair. “I didn’t want to do that
No.” She bawled and bawled but the line only went more and more silent.
She fucked up and she’s right. The shame and the loss of self-respect are not something she could live through in this city. She must go, she must leave. Like how they always did when she was a kid; fleeing the scene with her embarrassment of a family who can’t live without humiliating them. They have no decent source of living so they gotta strive.
Now, she’s doing all of it again, all while losing all of it. Again.
“Save yourself. I won’t let them know of your plan. After all, you were once of help to my child. I’m truly sorry.” With that, the call ended; with Naomi sitting on the floor as she put a balled hand over her throbbing chest, and the thought of going away to start as someone new settled in the middle of her head. Naomi learned a lot from all the troubles she went through.
This time, she learned that you could have someone's body but their heart could still be somewhere else.
—-------------------------------------------------
“What is it?” Satoru heard through the phone speaker. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, letting relief flood his veins and calm his shaking flesh. “When are you free?” There was a long pause before Satoru’s father replied, “You know I can make time.” Clearing his throat, Satoru massaged his temples, thanking the heavens that his nightmares weren’t real.
“Let’s meet later if that’s alright.” He whispered, scared that his voice would break. Satoru knows that he is the only link between the relationship of his parents. Just like how his older brother would’ve been the connection his father was hoping to keep his first, real love close. Until they got tired of it all; the matters brought by his mother. And him.
Just like how she drained Satoru out. And right now he just wanted to run away from her too.
“Of course, just send me the exact time.” Satoru nodded as if his father could see him, “Are you alright?” He asked after a few seconds as if sensing the trouble from his son’s voice. “Yeah, much better now, at least.” Satoru rubbed his eyes as he shook his head, eyeing the negative results of the vaginal swab test. “Dad, Mom can’t know.”
He’s almost sure that the request would prompt questions from his father, knowing that he’s aware of how close he is to his Mom. But he was surprised when he simply agreed, murmuring an “Okay.” before letting his son end the call. Satoru pictured him on his office chair as he nodded away, brows furrowed with worry like he always is when it comes to family matters.
When Satoru was a child, his nanny would tell him that his father wasn’t always so workaholic when his ex-wife was still there, co-parenting with him. After she ran away and left, his father started to immerse himself in work more. He knows that he tried with his mother since they were already there and married. But it was just never the same.
His father was happy with them. But he could never be the happiest again.
Leaning back on the chair, he put a hand over his eyes and let his frustrations stream down his cheeks. He let out a shaky sigh, grabbing the papers before looking at them in a brighter light. It’s negative. Nothing happened. You woke him up just in time. He tapped on Naomi’s contact, quickly typing his last message before attaching a photo of the results.
‘I’m mailing the rest of your things tomorrow.’ It only took a minute for her to respond with an apology but Satoru doesn’t care anymore to read it. He blocked the number as soon as he made sure that she received and read the message. He doesn’t want to be anywhere near her.
He knows he is wrong for not telling her about his feelings as soon as he can. But that doesn’t equal what she did to him and what she almost got them into. Satoru checked the clock before sending the time to his father, hoping to end all of this mess before the mess ended him.
His mother has been calling him nonstop, and he always had to pretend that he was not home during the previous days. He stayed in watching movies with his little girl, sending you videos and pictures every now and then. He slept in her room during those days, a desperate attempt to calm his brain down. His head hurts from overthinking.
Putting the papers back into the envelope, Satoru took it with him to his room. He made sure to put it in his bedside drawer, just in case some other shit comes up. If this happened before, he’d probably think that Naomi is not that kind of person. But after what she did to him, all of the trust and admiration she has for her went to waste.
Changing into something more comfortable, Satoru tried to take a quick nap. He doesn’t want to look this tired when he meets his father. He’d probably convince him to get a general checkup just to make sure that nothing was wrong. Satoru knows that if it weren’t for him, his father wouldn’t ever put up with his mom. He’d probably spend his whole life searching for his ex-wife.
A few hours of nap felt like nothing because when Satoru woke up, he still felt tired. The only difference is his heartbeat doesn’t sound like it’s trying to come out of his chest anymore unlike when he was waiting for the results. A little progress is still progress; just like how he’s trying to make it all up to you.
If Satoru’s being honest, he’d fall down to his knees and beg you to take him back if you asked him to do it. The only thing stopping him is his brain telling him how happy you are right now and how he wouldn’t want to destroy that. He can’t force himself to stop thinking about you but he can force himself to move on if it’s for you.
Satoru leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, reading a text from his father saying that he was on his way. Another text was from you; it was a picture of Yui holding up a coloring book and a crayon. He was just with her earlier but he misses her already. He wondered if he could visit when he doesn’t have other things to do even if it’s not his schedule yet.
Sending a response with a small smile on his face, Satoru heard the doorbell ring, signaling his father’s arrival. He peeked through the spaces of his window curtains to ensure that it was him before opening the door. Satoru’s still unsure of what he’ll say but he hopes that his father can give him a better solution.
Satoru thought that if he ever cut ties with his mother, it’d be for you and Yui’s safety. He didn’t think that it’d be for him too. “Dad,” He gave his father a hug as he stepped in, following his son as they walked to his house. “What’s going on?” He asked as soon as Satoru closed the door. They walked to the kitchen, settling on one of the barstools.
“It’s because of mom
” He began, placing a glass pitcher atop the counter.
—---------------------------------------
“Smile~ We’ll send this to Dada.” You cooed, pointing at the camera as you tried to take a picture of your daughter. At first, she didn’t want to do it, wanting nothing but to play with her book and crayons but when she heard that her Dad wanted to know about it, she got real creative with the pose. “You don’t listen to Mama, anymore.” You pouted at her as you hit send.
She scrunched her nose, sticking out her tongue at you before picking on her colors. You still can’t forget how dead Satoru looked when he dropped Yui off. You wondered what he talked about with his mother that caused him to be like that. Even with the soft tone of his voice, you could hear roughness that probably came from the lack of sleep.
If it concerns you, then you definitely have to know. His mother probably said something bad about you, but you doubt that it’s affecting Satoru by how he was talking and looking at you. He just looked so done with all of it, but even so, there was still a tender look in his eyes when they met yours.
You sighed while looking at your phone as you waited for a text from Toji. He’s been so busy with work lately, you’re just glad that you already talked about your problems. You had a feeling that it wouldn’t end well had it stayed unsaid for a couple more days. It wasn’t completely back to normal, but at least, you’re both trying to make it better for each other.
“I would try,” He whispered to your ear as he hugged you from behind, “I can’t promise not to think of her–“ You turned around, looking up at him with a solemn look in your eyes, “I’m not asking you to not think of her, that’d be selfish of me.” He nodded, kissing your forehead, “Alright, what I mean is, I won’t make any comparisons.” You hummed.
“I need you to stop worrying about Satoru and I.” You put your head on his chest, “I know it’s easier said than done, but I just want you to know that I am with you.” Your fingers traced figured on his skin, “I’m keeping that in mind.” He placed his cheek on top of your head, sighing deeply as he let go of you.
“I’m taking Megumi to my Mom’s.” He pushed your hair back with his fingers, making your eyes flutter close as you felt his face get closer to yours and his breath ghosting on your lips. “I’ll see you later.” He pecked your lips, “Take care, I love you.” He murmured as he gave you a long kiss, before turning to get their stuff.
One thing that you notice about Toji is that he never waits for you to say anything back. You don’t want to take the words lightly, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t feel the same way as him. You still have a long way to go, and you don’t want to rush anything. When you mention it to him, he just says that he needs you to hear it.
“Mama, look!” Your daughter pulled you out of your head as she showed you a picture of a cat, “Dada buy Yui.” You looked closely at the picture, laughing as you realized that she was talking about the cake that they ate. “Yeah, you're right! That's what Dada bought you!.” You patted her head as she giggled.
“Yui, baby. Did meemaw come to see you?” You held her small hands, trying to keep her attention to you. “No. No meemaw.” She pulled at your hair gently, trying to color it with her crayons. “What about
what about Naomi?” You can’t help but chuckle as she pretended to think, eyes looking up as she pouted her lip.
“No Naomi!” Her answer gave you a bit of an insight. You would assume that maybe she was just busy, but hearing about how Satoru’s mother reduced her workload made you doubt it. Satoru sent you tons of pictures during his time with her but you thought that Naomi just wasn’t in the frame.
If the ‘talk’ between her and Satoru didn’t end well, you could only assume that he already told her about it. He’s probably down because he wouldn’t want to hurt her like that. With all the progress Satoru has made, you doubt that he’d be so happy to have broken a heart. She was still once a friend to him.
A heavy feeling settles in the middle of your chest, like an anchor weighing your heart down, thinking about how his mother would probably find a reason to drag you for it. But if that’s the case, you’re sure that Satoru wouldn’t let harm come to you.
With how gentle Naomi was, you couldn’t think of a worse thing to happen.
——————————————
“What did she do this time?” His father looked away, clicking his tongue. If one would ask Satoru, his parents would’ve probably divorced years ago if it weren’t for him. His father knows how he is with his mother, and the thought of giving him a hard time switching between the two of them pained him.
Satoru wished that he thought about it too before he decided to go and selfishly start over with someone else. Your words the night he confessed to you echoed in his head. He came to a realization that you probably wanted to ask him to come back but held yourself back as he let you know how happy he was with Naomi.
And he was happy. But just like his father, he was never the happiest.
“I don’t really know how to open this up to you
” He bit his lip, “
But I just want this to be over, Dad.” Satoru felt so vulnerable at that moment. The only time he had a talk this serious with his Dad was when he found out about your pregnancy. It was just more of a news, unlike right now, which is a call for help.
“Naomi
Mom and Naomi talked about
” His father’s eyes coaxed him as if sensing his distress. “Naomi tried to
” Shaking his head, Satoru breathed out. “Naomi wanted to conceive. Because our relationship was falling apart.” He can see his Dad’s brows pull together to a scowl, probably getting a hint of what happened.
“She talked to Mom about it and she
” The man sat up straight, bouncing his leg like he already knew what his wife did. “She said Mom brought up the thing about how you and him got together.”It was hard to talk about this to his father, knowing how sensitive it can be for him. “Naomi told me about it. I recorded it, just in case—”
“Satoru, what did your girlfriend do?” Satoru looked down, fingers fidgeting like he was a kid again. “And your mother’s involved? What happened?” Rubbing his face, Satoru threw away all his fears. If he’s not going to fix these problems, then who will? “She got me drunk, and then she tried to sleep with me.” He blinked fast, watching his father’s face.
“I heard her talking to Mom on the phone, and I took it from her. That’s how I found out that she played a part in all of it.” It was hard for him to accept. The person he used to protect, the one he always tried to understand was the same person who betrayed and put him in this position; the position that also made his father the person he is today.
Another long silence surrounded them. His father’s hand was balled into a fist, covering his mouth as he blankly stared at the marble surface. “Where’s Naomi?” His father pulled out his phone, and Satoru could tell just what he was about to do. “I don’t know. I’m sending her things away. I’m cutting her off. I’m filing a protective order against her and mom–“
Satoru didn’t get to finish his sentence before his father spoke again, probably finally taking in the information he just provided him. “I’m divorcing your mother.” His mouth fell half-open. His voice was low, serious, and full of all the grief that he’s been feeling for years ever since he lost his first wife and son. “And I’m sending that woman to jail.” He added, raising a finger.
“There’s
I don’t want that.” He breathed out, earning a questioning look from his dad. “You don’t have to send her to jail. I
I messed up if I just told her that I still have feelings for Y/N, then she wouldn’t have resorted to that. She wouldn’t have talked to Mom and this wouldn’t have happened.” He stood up, leaning on the counter as he squeezed his eyes shut.
Satoru thought about it too when he caught her in the act. But after some reflection, he realized his shortcomings, his mistake of not just telling her about what was really going on. Even though there was no excuse for what she did, Satoru can’t help but feel like he’s the one who caused all of this to happen. And he probably really is; a victim of his foolish choices.
“But other than that, I don’t want Y/N and Yui to be caught up in this. I don’t want to expose them to this kind of problem, they’ve been through so much because of me already. I just want to do better this time.” Thinking about dragging you into another mess made Satoru feel weak. He promised to make it up to you, and he’d do anything to prove that.
His father put his phone down on the table, taking in a deep breath just to calm himself. “But you’re not stopping me from divorcing your mother.” Satoru doesn’t know if it’s right to agree to that. It felt like he was encouraging the separation of his parents; celebrating his mother’s heartbreak.
But his father’s been suffering heartbreak for years. It’s only fair to set him free.
“It’s up to you. I
” Satoru shook his head, sure of the decision he was about to make. “...I don’t think I can just forgive and forget what she did. It’s not something small, and I’m not a kid anymore, Dad.” His eyes itched, ready to let his tears go any minute. “I don’t even know if I still want to be associated with her.” He turned away, sighing as he blinked away his pain.
When he and Naomi went for the examination, he made her spill all the details regarding the said conversation with his mother. It took everything in him not to fly into a rage while breaking down as he heard of it. All this time, his mother saw him as a pawn to keep his father, regardless of whose life she was tearing down; Satoru’s, his father's ex-wife, and his first son.
“I wanted to take you away when you were a kid.” His father admitted, looking ahead as he reminisced of the decisions he made. “I wanted to just take you and raise you with your brother. Of course, with the hopes of getting my ex-wife back.” He leaned back, tapping on the screen of his phone. The bitter tone in his voice can’t be missed.
“That was my plan when I found out about you. But when you were about a year and a half old, she disappeared. All I knew was she was
tired; drained of all the chaos that our son and her were exposed to. What with having to co-parent with me as I was with your mother.” His eyes played the emotions he chose to hide away many years ago.
“I know you know about this. She and I got divorced. I thought it was over for us, I thought I made the right decision to turn away and try another start. And I was dating your mother. Then we had you.” His arms were crossed and Satoru could almost see the similarities between his feelings to how he used to feel about yours and his relationship.
“Then, realization came running for me; haunting me in my sleep. I was ready to get her back again, but it was too late. She was already gone.” Satoru absently poured water for his Dad, listening intently to his story. “So, I felt like the only thing to do was to marry your Mom. I reminded myself that still have you, I can’t just spiral down.” He smiled at Satoru.
“I tried to convince, tried to brainwash myself that it’d be fine. That I could learn to love her and I did. Just not the kind of love that lovers have.” If his mother could hear his Dad right now, she’d get shattered. Satoru doesn’t want to see that, but she would have to. She has to understand that she’s putting this man through.
“I loved her because she loves me; because she cares for you and me.” Leaning over to pick up his glass, he looked his son in the eyes. “But true love is unconditional, Satoru. It should not have a reason.” He took a sip, pursing his lips before continuing. “Reasons might vanish, and when it does, so will the love you feel for that person.”
In the middle of it all, Satoru could only think of you. Why does he love you? When did he realize that he loves you? How did it happen? He doesn’t have an answer for it. He cannot find a reason for it. He doesn’t remember loving you just because you put up with him, he doesn’t remember falling for you just because of the life you created together.
All that he knows is that one day, he woke up and he already knew that he was in love with you. Like he’s been doing it for years; like that’s all he’s ever known.
—-------------------------------------------------
“I’ll keep in contact with you regarding the proceedings.” Satoru’s father spoke on the phone, stepping inside his mansion and smiling at his helpers. He asked Satoru if he wanted to have a word with his mother but the thought of having to look at her after what she tried to make his ex-girlfriend do makes him feel dizzy.
“Honey, you’re home.” The woman tried to welcome him with a kiss and open arms but he quickly turned his head, rejecting her. “Come up to my office, we got something to talk about.” The mask of a loving wife was quickly covered with fear and dread.
“What about in our room? So, you can rest.” She nodded her head once, trying to coax him but he was tired of closing his eyes and numbing his heart from feeling the pain and regret of having to lose the love of his life for the comfort that this woman offered him before. “In my office. It’s not a small matter that I could sleep on.”
Leaving the woman baffled, he made his way upstairs, not waiting for her to walk beside him. There was a deafening silence in the big room, save from the footsteps of her husband and the door of his office slamming with such force that it sent a crack in her heart.
She took a deep breath and ran her palm on top of her dress, thinking of all the reasons she could give him just to prove her innocence. She didn’t want any of that to happen. She didn't think that Naomi could be so dumb as to come up with such a heinous and unpleasant plan.
That wasn’t even what she did to Satoru’s father. It was just working to keep them together. And that’s why Satoru came.
With her found determination, she held her head high. Swallowing the terror rising up her throat as she let her thoughts convince her that she did nothing wrong. She never explicitly told Naomi to do that, she’s the one who schemed that. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
She walked up the stairs, caressing the smooth, cold surface of the handrail. Satoru wouldn't allow anything to happen to her. He’s her boy, her pride and joy. He’s the only ally she had when his father was openly pushing her away.
Satoru wouldn’t just ruin what she and his father had because of baseless information from his sick girlfriend. Entering the office, the man sat on his swivel chair. Forehead pressed to the heel of his hand. “What is it, dear?” She smiled sweetly at her husband, appearing unaware of what he had in mind.
Oh, how she wished she was just unaware of it all. She wished that she didn't know what the problem was. She wished it wasn’t what she thought it was and that she was just overthinking because of how– “I want a divorce.” Those four words halted the spinning of her world.
“What?” She raised her brows, checking if it was just her mind playing tricks on her and making her hallucinate. “I want a divorce. And I want it as soon as possible.” His eyes no longer held any emotions towards her; no sadness, bitterness, fading love. None. Not even pity.
“Listen, honey, I didn’t think that Naomi would do–“ She took quick steps towards him, hoping to get him to listen. “So, you knew about it?” He glared at her, “You knew about it and you didn’t tell me anything?” He shook his head, and she could only open her mouth.
“Doesn’t matter. Satoru told me everything.” He stood up from his seat, towering over her as he stared her down. “It’s nothing like that–“ She breathed out, panicking. “I’m not really interested in what you told Naomi. I’m just thankful that my son’s safe.” He stepped away from her.
“What I want to do right now, is to be free from this.” It’s over for her. All the alibis that she was composing, thinking of for this moment are useless. He doesn’t need an explanation, this was simply the final push that he needed to kick her out of his life. And probably out of Satoru’s too.
“Please, don’t do this. We’re already too old to–“ She tried to grab his hand and he only grabbed it with the other to put it away. “You’re right. We’re too old, our son’s too old for me to still pretend that we want to be in this position.” Shaking her head, she stepped in front of him, blocking his way. “Please, listen. I wouldn’t do something that could harm–“
“I know,” His voice was calm. “Of course, to harm him wasn’t your intention, right?” She nodded eagerly, thinking that he was finally listening to her. “But you wanted to decide for him. You got in between him and Y/N, then pushed this woman on him because you thought you knew best for your son.” Tears fell down her eyes, and she lost all hope.
“Now, look at what you did to him.” He gritted his teeth, stepping forward to get her out of his way. “But this is not just about our son anymore. This is also about me, finally choosing to do what I should’ve done a long time ago.” Opening the door, he spoke to her one last time. “All you have to do is sign. The actions that your son will take is all up to him.”
With that, he left her with all of the nightmares of their past coming back. How he only wanted the best for his sons, how he wanted to take full custody of Satoru, how he wanted to get back together with his ex-wife, and how he only married her because she was gone. She was never the first option. She was never the original pick.
She wasn’t chosen, she just happened to be already there.
—————————————
“Hey,” You heard Satoru speak as Toji opened the door for him, nodding. This was kind of similar to how they first saw each other but you’re just glad that this time, it’s a lot calmer. Megumi ran to his father, peeking up at Satoru as he waved at him.
“Yui, your Dada’s here.” Toji left the door open to let Satoru in. Megumi was holding onto his pants, staring back at Satoru. “Yui Dada,” He picked his toy up, staring at a distance before walking closer to him. “Blue!” You laughed from the kitchen, as you packed some snacks for the little girl.
Today, you’re going to the zoo as Yui requested. The animal drawings from her coloring book got her asking you to call her Dada late at night, just to babble about it. “He’s referring to your eyes,” Toji spoke as he went back to the living room to pick up some of the toys.
“Megumi, it’s not good to point at people, what did I tell you?” He warned the toddler as he went back to your room, eyes meeting yours as you made your way to Yui's room. “Ah, yes. Yui and I have the same eyes.” Satoru smiled at the child.
“Dada!” Yui ran towards him, stomping her shoes extra hard to show him how they light up with dancing colors. “Woah! Did Mama buy you those shoes?” He opened his arms, urging the little girl to run to him and she happily did, giggling as she nodded. “It’s awesome!” You smiled at how he tried to flatter his child, encouraging her to do a little jump.
“Where are we going today?” You asked her in a playful tone as you put the lunch bags on the coffee table in front of them. “Zoo!” You watched a Satoru give her a sincere smile, patting her hair gently while complimenting her little butterfly clips. “I’m sure Megumi’s been to the zoo before.” He poked the little boy's tummy.
“Yeah. Animals. Bears and lions.” He stood behind you, peeking at Satoru as he talked. Megumi isn’t usually shy, but he doesn’t easily warm up to people. “We went there on his second birthday.” You almost jumped at Toji’s voice behind you as he picked up his child. “He’s a smart kid.” Satoru answered with a friendly smile.
“You guys should come. If you want..” It surprised you that he was initiating something like that. Although, you know that Toji wouldn’t be so comfortable with that and would most likely reject the offer, it’s still nice to see that Satoru’s trying to make an effort to get along with him.
“That’d be nice but his grandma's waiting for him,” Toji answered, chuckling awkwardly. “Dada work,” Megumi added, earning a hum from his Dad. Making sure that the bag is packed with everything Yui needs, you zipped it up. “You ready to go now?” You tapped the toddler’s cheek, feeling Satoru’s gaze at you.
“Alright, let’s get going.” Standing up with his daughter in his arms, he took the bag from your hands. He put the toddler down to hug her friend goodbye, before walking hand in hand with her outside. You laughed at how she kept squealing with each step she took, looking up to see her Dad’s reaction.
“You guys have fun, alright? I’ll just lock the doors before we go.” Toji pulled you to him, giving you a kiss. “I’ll be back later.” You put your hand around his neck, standing on your tippy toes before pecking his neck. With that, you walked out the door to join your toddler who was patiently waving at you from her car seat.
“Okay, it’s zoo time!” You wiggled your brows at her as you slammed the door shut, making her giggle. You checked your face in the mirror, trying to ignore Satoru’s soft eyes as he watched you. “How are you?” You tried to start a conversation but it was quickly interrupted as you searched around for your daughter’s binky.
“Maybe we left it inside,” Satoru spoke, opening Yui’s bag to help you find it. “Yui, where did you put it?” Remembering how she placed it on the coffee table as she showed off her outfit to her father, you started to unbuckle your seatbelts but Satoru stopped you. “It’s alright, I’ll get it.” He was already stepping out of the car before you could stop him.
Satoru jogged up your steps, knocking a few times before proceeding to open the door. Toji was just about to open it for him when he entered, “It’s Yui’s pacifier. She left it.” He put on the most polite smile he could muster, wanting nothing but to get rid of the awkwardness between them if they were both going to be in your life.
“Oh, alright. I thought it was someone else.” Toji let out a rather awkward chuckle, not knowing how else to react or what else to say. But just as Satoru uttered ‘thanks’, Toji remembered the thing he’s been thinking of for almost a week now. “Uh, Satoru,” He called, making him pause as he held the door open.
Her brows raised, waiting for him to say something. Toji doesn’t know if you’d be happy about this but it’s better than just letting his feelings, thoughts, and opinions all pile up inside of him. This is for you and Yui. Not just for him.
“I’ve been thinking about our situation with Y/N and
 I was wondering if you could set aside a bit of your time for a chat?”
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xveenusx · 11 months ago
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Wanted
Paring(s): JJ maybank x fem!reader
Summary: in a world where someone had everything, she still got treated like she was nothing. all she wanted was to be wanted.
Authors note: I wanted this piece piece to be as real as possible. It's not simple, its messy. We've all gone back to that one person we know we shouldn't just because being alone seemed worse. Also she gets absolutely railed so that helps. So please be kind to her lmfao.
Rating: smut, 18+, mdni, ANGST
Song rec: making the bed by olivia rodrigo
Part 1: Guilty
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Bored. 
I was so incredibly bored. I leaned against the built in bar as I watched Topper and Kelce take body shots off some tourists they invited. The loud bass of the music did little to tune out the annoying voice of Amy Culpo, who stood next to me, and rattled on about my mother’s latest line. 
“I mean, it’s absolutely stunning.” I know it is. I was there when she designed it. “Any chance you have tickets to her next show?”
Ah, there it was. The brutal truth he reminded me of all those months ago. Every interaction was a strategic move to climbing the next prong on the social ladder. Everyone always wanted something. 
I used to fight that notion. I thought I was better than them because I actually cared about other people. My wealth did not define me nor how I treated other people, but despite every effort I made both before and after him, I realized none of it mattered. 
I couldn’t escape my wealth. It was permanently engraved into my body and no matter how hard I tried to scrub, it wouldn’t go away. I’ve now fully embraced that ugly truth and decided that I might as well use it to my advantage. I almost always had something that others wanted and I just had to figure out what they were willing to give. I didn’t need any more money, but there were things that were far more valuable. Favors, tickets to the hottest openings, plane rides. Since everyone already saw me as a spoiled little rich girl, I might as well play the part. 
‘Depends. Are those last season MIU MIU?” I asked, tossing a look at the shoes on her feet. 
“There from the season before-“ I pulled a face at her words. Before last season? I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing anything last season let alone the season before. 
“Oh honey, if those are two seasons old, then I highly doubt you have anything I want.” The shocked look on her face dulled the aching pain that seemed to permanently reside in my chest. 
“I can charter a plane-“
I raised my hand to silence her. “You don’t have your own?” 
What was she even doing here? 
This was a new little project of mine. I tossed away all those societal niceties that did little for me in the end. I still couldn’t get anyone to stay. This was much more fun. You’d be surprised by how much stuff you could get away with if you cut out all the bullshit.
Amy’s cheeks flushed red and maybe once I’d have felt bad or be disgusted by how I was treating her but I was numb. I realized nothing really mattered. Whether I was nice or rude, people all wanted the same things from me. At least this way, I could armor myself. 
“There’s my pretty girl.” Warm hands curled around my waist, tugging me against a hard body. 
I rolled my eyes. I wasn't his anything, Rafe knew that but he’s always had a flare for the dramatics. Tom Ford’s Noir de Noir filled my nose as I swatted at his hands, hands that I’ve grown quite familiar with. 
“You left me.” I shot him a bratty look, one he met head on with a smile. Amy still stood there awkwardly, clearing her throat in an obvious attempt to gain my attention. 
I turned around in Rafe’s arms, debating my next move. Almost immediately his chin came to rest on the top of my head while his arms curled around my front.
My eyes shot one last distasteful look at her outfit, before tossing out my arm in the opposite direction. “Shoo.”
She huffed before stomping away but not before shooting me one final glare. A look that would have made me cry before, but now it simply dinged off the impenetrable armor I’ve suited myself with. 
“I was hoping it’d build character, but clearly that didn’t work.” I could hear the smile in his words as he pressed a kiss on the top of my head. 
“The entire conversation was dull. She didn’t even have a jet, plus her shoes were two seasons ago.” I shuddered in disgust. Could never be me.
Rafe clutched his chest in mock disgust,”Not two seasons.” 
I let out a huff, my chest going warm at the teasing glint in his eye.
There was no spark. There were no butterflies. Just familiarity and warmth. It was safe. We both knew what this was and expected nothing more. For now, we were just having fun. Despite the fact that I spent most nights at his place and rarely found myself without him.
I’ve found somewhat of a friend in Rafe. Someone to share the burden of being from a family like ours. He understood me. He enjoyed shiny things just as I did. 
We spent a lot of our time going to the mainland because the idea of running into him still sent me to my knees. This was a small island. One that he was spending all his time running around with her instead of me. Rafe never said a word about it, never mentioned his sister or her pogue friends. And for that, maybe I do love him a little.
“You make fun of me now, but you’d still be wearing polo shirts and plaid shorts if it weren’t for me.” My hands smooth down the front of his linen light blue shirt, the first several buttons open paired with some black Gucci slacks and a black belt from Dolce & Gabbana. He no longer looked like a frat douche but a member of upper class society. 
The same can’t be said about his friends.
“C’mon. Top and Kelce want us over there.” Rafe grasped my hand and tugged me in the direction of drunken yells. I pursed my lips but trudged behind him. The idea of being thrown up on was less than appealing, but being by myself was even less appealing.
“Hey guys.” Rafe nodded at them, taking a seat on the adjacent couch, a table with all sorts of drugs littered on it in between them. 
The pair of them were obliterated, both their pupils blown wide and their speech slurred. That didn’t stop them from tossing me a sloppy grin and shouting a greeting. 
The spot next to Rafe was vacant but on the other end was a couple gnawing each other's faces off that had me scrunching my nose up in disgust. He surely didn’t expect me to sit next to that?
He didn’t even bat an eye, instead Rafe patted his lap, tugging at my hand to sit down. “Wanna drink, baby?” 
I nodded, deciding to once again indulge. It was better than feeling that stabbing pain that burned in my chest. It was a horrible solution but one that Rafe always supported, in fact he often took part in self-destructing with me. We were done with trying to be perfect for parents who couldn’t give less of a fuck. 
A red solo cup with a familiar yellow concoction was waved in front of me. The pungent scent of tequila burned my nose and I shot him a secret smile. Rafe’s blue eyes narrowed in on me, glued on my smile before he shook his head in amusement. 
“That’s the kinda night we’re going for?” He asked, his hand slowly gripping my thigh. 
“Unless you don’t want to?” I sighed dramatically, pushing his dark blonde strands back from his face, something I knew he loved. 
“If I ever say no to that question, feel free to shoot me.” 
A giggle escaped my lips as I tapped my cup against his before bringing it to my lips, tilting my head back and zeroing it out. 
The tequila left a burning trail down my stomach that I welcomed. It meant I was one step closer to not feeling anything at all. 
“Another?” Rafe’s eyes pointed at my now empty cup and I nodded. 
Being responsible was so overrated. 
Lifting his hand up, almost immediately two younger boys, about 16, appear. Rafe pointed at me, muttering something before the pair nodded and took off.
I raised my eyebrow at him, confused. 
He just shrugged, leaning forward to touch the golden pendant that hung from my neck. “I promised them tickets to the Charleston basketball game if they did whatever I said.”
“Why?” 
“I was bored,” He hummed in response,”This is new, it’s pretty..” 
I smiled back at him, the very picture of nonchalance, before replying,”Thank you. You bought it for me.” 
His ocean eyes rested on me, the infatuation clear as day that had my stomach clenching. “Course I did. I have great taste.” 
Rafe gave me his card about two months ago, not that I needed it, but he enjoyed taking care of me and I didnt mind. Plus, whenever he made me mad, I made sure to run the bill up, hoping for some type of reaction but it only left him amused. 
Nerves gnawed at my stomach at the intense eye contact. Maybe the lines have blurred slightly. Clearing my throat to try and break the tension, I tossed my hair over my shoulder. “Want to see what else you bought me?”
“Enlighten me.” 
I flashed him my freshly manicured nails, “What do you think?” 
Rafe caught my hand, a half smile painted on his face, and kissed it. “Is that passion pink?” 
“It’s actually bubblegum blush.” 
“Beautiful, baby. I love it.” His words burned into my chest. 
It was hard to describe. His approval had butterflies thrumming in my stomach. Maybe it was because we were stuck in similar situations, but his approval suddenly meant something to me. Being with him meant I wasn’t alone. 
“You know we’re right here, right?” Topper's voice cut through the tension and I let out a laugh, relieved to look away. 
“Fuck off.” Rafe laughed, regaining his composure as well. 
Topper leaned forward holding out a black AMEX for me to take. My eyes paused on the card before shooting him a flat look. 
“Are you kidding?” 
Topper gave me a blank look, not a thought behind those eyes. 
I rolled my eyes and stuck my nose up in mock outrage. “Rafe does it for me.” 
The annoyed look on Topper’s face sent a thrill through my body. He was the easiest to rile up and Rafe knew it as he hid his chuckle with a quick cough. 
The hand on my bare thigh slowly drew circles, the action almost unconscious, which had my brain blanking. It was a relief to not think. To not remember. To not feel. 
“Are your hands broken?” 
“No. I’m too pretty.” I shrugged, batting my lashes at him.
Topper openly scowled at me, his eyes dropping to where Rafe’s hands held me tightly. “What happened to the nice little girl who cried about everything?”
“Lay off.” Rafe snipped, leaning forward and snatching the AMEX out of his hand. His movements were quick and precise, with ease that only came with experience. 
He separated the coke into three lines, one for me and two for him, just like always. 
Bending over, I snorted the line quickly. Turning to hand Rafe the hundred dollar bill, his fingers dust off any remaining powder off my nose, before he bent over and did the same.
I leaned back into Rafe, the mixture of the tequila and the sting of the coke had me feeling sublime. It was a perfect balance. The alcohol got me warm and buzzed while the coke kept me awake and alert, an upper and a downer, a perfect description for every emotion in my body. 
“I grew up.” 
Topper hummed. “You certainly did.”
For the next hour, my mind never drifted to him. I enjoyed having thoughts that were my own, that didn’t revolve around him. Instead, my thoughts focused on the man below me. Rafe was always touching me. Even more so than usual, his hand never left my body once. If I let go of his hand to reach for my drink, he’s just moved it to my thigh. It was almost possessive which was odd, we didn’t do possessive. 
Every couple moments, he’d pause in the middle of a conversation to press small kisses anywhere his lips could reach. It seemed performative, but I just couldn’t prove it.
“You’re thinking too hard.” His hot breath hot against the shell of my ear. 
I said nothing for a moment before licking my lips and muttering,”Are you okay? You seem more clingy than usual?” 
He just nodded, pulling me to his hard chest, his eyes darting to the side. “I just like having you with me.”
The sentiment was sweet and my heart tugged at his words. But, I couldn’t let go of the feeling that I was missing something. “I like having you with me too.” I allowed myself to give him a sliver of vulnerability, something I’ve avoided like plague, because it was true. He made living just a bit easier.
My head began to spin as I felt the lines of our odd friendship begin to blur. I knew neither of us would admit the sudden shift but it was there. I could tell with each lingering gaze and those secret touches. Maybe there was something here. I just had to give in.
“I’m glad you came to your senses,” He responded, but once again his eyes are not on mine but darting around me. 
“What does that have to do with anything?” My voice comes out hushed, hoping it would get him to lower his voice. 
My smile from his previous confession dimmed. Nerves slowly began to surface as I tried to read between the lines.
“You do belong with me, at least that's what you scream every night, isn’t that right baby?” He was boasting, loud enough to have his boys give him lame-ass high fives. 
The small burst of happiness curdled like old milk in my stomach. I wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but I was a private person. Rafe knew this and he was still flaunting our private moments in a way that made me feel dirty. 
“Stop talking about me like that.” I said, “What’s gotten into you?” 
I felt Rafe go rigid under me. Frowning, I tilted my head back to make sure he was alright but his eyes were glued ahead. 
“Rafe, I’m here for my stuff. Where did you say you put it again?” 
My head turned and my stomach did a backflip. Sarah stood at the entrance of the room, looking immensely uncomfortable. 
John B stood behind her, his big brown puppy-like eyes widened at the sight of me on Rafe’s lap. Or maybe it was because of  the coke laid out in front of me? 
But wherever he was, JJ wasn’t far behind. John B whispered something in Sarah’s ear, her eyes jumped to me for a split second before returning to his. She nodded and John B made a beeline for the other room. 
I let out a choked laugh. I’m sure he was going to report back to his little lap dog. What were they even doing here in the first place? It’s not like Rafe knew-
My brain clicked into place. The constant need to touch me and the over the top PDA was because he was here. Rafe knew he was here and wanted to rub it in his face. 
Rafe’s words were never for me. They were for him.
None of this was real. Not the endearing names, not the proclamations of affection. An ice bucket of realization poured over me and I felt like a fool. A fool for thinking that somebody else could want me, could maybe even love me.
Fuck this. Fuck both of them. 
“You knew.” I accused, shoving his hands off of my body. 
Rafe said nothing, but the flicker in his eyes gave him away. I wasn’t safe with him either. Embarrassment oozed into me, the feeling painstakingly familiar. We agreed to never make each other feel this way since our parents did it enough, but he did it to me. 
Don’t think. Don’t feel. 
Snatching the cup out of his hand, I forced it down, gulp by gulp, wincing at the burn. Straight tequila. “Babe-“
“Shut up.” I hissed, moving off his lap and shoving Topper to move over. Everyone always wanted something from me. 
They never just wanted me.
Maybe I was defective. I had to be. 
JJ didn’t love me when I was me. When I cared about other people and sacrificed pieces of my happiness for them.
Rafe didn’t love me now. When I was a spoiled brat who treated everyone like a transaction. 
It didn’t matter if I was nice or a total raging bitch. Either way, I couldn't get anyone to love me.
I was just the stepping stone they used before they found the person they really wanted to be with. I was just there to make them feel good about themselves. For them to take and take just to toss me aside when they were done. Leaving me a shell of a person with no one, not even myself.
I guess, I was impossible to love.
“Line it up, Topper.”
“Can I at least get a please?”
“Be lucky that I’m even talking to you.”
Topper scoffed but did what I asked, lining up two lines of chalky white powder. “There you go, princess:” 
A rolled hundred dollar bill was held out in front of me. Plucking it out of his fingers. I bent over the table. Don’t think. Don’t feel. 
Dragging the cylinder bill down the crystal snow powder I’ve grown to love, I inhaled deeply. The chemicals flowing through the nose. I could practically feel the coke dissolving into my bloodstream, my body vibrating in response. 
Dropping the bill on the table, I tilt my head back, begging my brain to shut off. I closed my eyes and chose to focus on the beat of the music that had my heart thrumming in my chest.
Then it happened.
All the air in the room was sucked up. The hair behind my neck stood up and my body suddenly awakened in a way it hadn’t in months. 
My body recognized him before my brain did. The moment I opened my eyes, his eyes clashed with mine.
JJ.
It was like seeing him for the first time, a memory I thought I would never get the chance to feel again. 
Heavy set blonde brows framed his bright blue eyes beautifully, the strong cut jaw that was currently clenched, and his lips soft and pouty, tightly pressed in a flat line. This face, his beautiful face, wouldn’t be complete without some mark. A bruise, a soft purple and yellow hue, decorated his cheek bone. His bottom lip busted. 
He was so beautiful. 
My body reacted before my brain could follow. I stood up quickly, too quickly that the blood rushed to my head and the room seemed to spin. 
God, he was beautiful. And I fucking hated him for it. He was supposed to be like me, a complete and total mess, but instead, he looked the same, even better actually. 
That thought alone had me ready to jump off the balcony.
My movements were clumsy and I drunkenly stumbled while standing still, his eyes clocking that in seconds. 
Despite the loud music, I noticed the silence coming from the couch. 
My eyes jumped to Rafe. All the laughter around us died off and everyone was exchanging nervous looks. It didn’t take a genius to read the room and the situation I’ve somehow managed to put myself in. 
Blue eyes flickered between the two of us. It cracked my chest open wide and opened the floodgates I’ve been trying so hard to keep closed. 
The crushing inescapable weight of shame hit me first. I was plastered, obviously so, and high as a kite. The evidence of what I’d been doing displayed out in front of me like a flashing sign. And I was fucking the one guy he hated. 
It was unreasonable, I know. He left me and even pushed me in the direction of the one guy he hated and yet, I was the one feeling bad. He hasn’t even opened his mouth yet and it’s been turned onto me. But love never makes sense. It made the most sane people lose every coherent thought, I was the prime example.
“You should probably go, bro.” Rafe said, his tone was anything but. 
He moved from his spot on the couch and stopped beside me. Rafe shoved a hand in one pocket while the other reached for mine, but I folded my arms across my chest. Mostly because I was mad at him, but a part of me didn’t want JJ seeing that. 
JJ didn’t spare him a second glance.
He had on a dark blue short sleeve button down shirt with black cargos and chunky black boots on his feet. A backwards red hat settled nicely on the blonde mass of wavy hair and his shark necklace hanging against the exposed part of his chest. 
It was so JJ. All of it, right down to the colorful bracelets that littered his wrists. 
A hand grasped my chin and tilted up. I held my breath. His fingers slid along my jaw and he rubbed his thumb over the skin. His eyes felt like lasers, honing in on every detail of my face. 
I swallowed audibly. JJ leaned in closer, bringing his height down to mine. His thumb brushed a soft stroke below my nose while his lips brushed against my ear. 
“You had a little something on your nose.” 
JJ let go of my face, his expression hard. Then he brushed past me, leaving a gaping wound in his wake. 
Tears burned behind my closed eyes. He didn’t need to say it because I already knew what he was thinking. Sure, JJ smoked some weed but he never touched any of the hard stuff, not wanting to pick up the same habits as his dad. Hard drugs were a hard limit for him and he found me snorting several lines of it. 
I went and became the very thing he hated, just like he wanted. It didn’t feel as satisfying as I thought it would. Instead, I felt like I lost another piece of myself. 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I said to Rafe, finally gathering the courage to open my eyes. 
He shuffled beside me. “Him being here wasn’t going to change anything.”
We both knew that was a lie.
“It’s him, Rafe. It changes everything for me.” 
Rafe scoffed and shook his head. “You’re really going to try and go back to that?”
“I’m not saying that-” I spluttered out, outraged as his voice continued to carry across the room. 
“He didn’t want you.” 
People around us began to whisper, their heads huddled together with their phones out. Wet hot tears threatened to fall as the control I took months to master began to unravel. 
“Yeah, well you don’t either.” 
“What the hell are you talking about? Before he got here, everything was perfect.”
“I’m not stupid. You think I didn’t notice what you were doing? That wasn’t for us, that was for him.”
“I didn't mean for you to think I was using you-“
I gripped his chin, and pulled his face down to my height, my eyes brimming with angry tears. “You don’t use me. I use you.” I shoved his face back, needing to collect my composure. 
Everyone’s eyes were on us and I was desperate to save face. It was the only thing I had left. 
“Get the fucking picture?”
“Crystal clear.” He responded through gritted teeth, his eyes hard. 
“If you want a whore, go buy one.” 
Rafe cleared his throat, his face iced over. “I thought that’s what I was already doing.”
I stood there for a moment, not understanding what I did to deserve to be treated like this by not one man but two. I felt like an idiot. Like the stupidest fucking person on this god forsaken planet. 
Two hours ago, I thought that maybe Rafe had feelings for me and played with the idea of exploring that with him. And now, I was a gold digging whore. 
I felt another piece of my heart break off, mourning the loss of the only friendship I really had.
Pressing my hair down with my hands, I look down to fix my dress, swallowing as I went, hoping to pull myself together and buy some time. 
“I’m glad to hear how little you think of me.” I sent him a sad smile,” I guess I’m keeping up with everyone’s expectations.” 
I stepped around him, heading to the direction of the bar, the adrenaline from all the excitement having effectively killed my buzz. 
Staring at the bottles of liquor on the counter had me frowning, all being some bottom shelf brand I’ve never heard of. I moved around the bar to the cabinets behind it, looking for the good tequila. It was the least Rafe could do seeing as though he just blew up whatever the fuck we were doing. 
Spotting the only tequila I drank, I grabbed the entire handle. Twisting the top off, I tossed it aside carelessly before taking a healthy swig. Then another. And another. 
I stumbled into another room, shoving people out of my way. I ignored the angry shouts because I was way past the point of caring. I just-I just wanted to see him.
As if someone heard my thoughts, I spotted JJ leaning against a wall with a lit joint dangled between his fingers and a beer in the other. 
He had so much charisma, it demanded the attention of the room. People gravitated towards him all the time but he refused to see himself that way. 
Even now, he stood surrounded by several people, including a girl who was too close for my liking, and they were hanging onto every word. All of their bodies angled towards him, nodding along. The people around them curiously moving in to hear more of the story that had so many of them laughing. 
It was almost ironic. It was the point I was trying to prove all those months ago. Kooks vs. Pouges was bullshit. Because, right now JJ is telling a story to a bunch of Kooks who were eating it right up. Neither parties cared about their status, they just wanted to socialize and have fun. 
Why couldn’t he see that? 
The organ in my chest began to flutter, the butterflies erupting in my stomach at his nearness. Panic began to set in. I thought I’d pushed it all down. 
All it took was seeing him. Just once. For the last couple months of progress to be thrown out the window. I made sure to not feel anything anymore, because the alternative destroyed me. And yet, there he stood, looking like every dream I’ve ever had, and completely disarming my very being with one look. 
I never wanted to feel that way again. My heart was open and my soul was bared, but I was naive. I thought love was supposed to be empowering. But really, it was poison. It slowly entered your bloodstream, coating every vein before slowly taking over every organ. It leaked into your brain and made you lose all common sense. The poison tricked you into thinking that certain treatment was okay because at least they were here. At least, they still wanted to be with you because they love you, right? 
But eventually, like all things lacking an antidote, it began to cut off your oxygen. It curled around your lungs and squeezed until you gasped for breath with tears staining your face. It didn’t matter how much you screamed and shouted, nothing came out. The last organ it takes over is your heart. That silly little organ who was so trusting begins to pump faster, desperately trying to get that oxygen to your brain, because maybe then you’ll finally be able to think clearly. But in the end, it slows down. Each pump is slower than the last until finally it comes to a stop. The heart broke. 
It’s the closest thing to dying I’ve ever experienced.
It was like drowning on dry land.
His words did not leave me dented, but destroyed. 
I lost my sense of myself. I lost my identity. I put on a performance every time I left my house, wanting to see just how far I could get away with treating people the same way they treat me. 
At first it didn’t feel good, but now I didn’t feel anything at all. Or so I thought until I saw him again. And I just want to see that he was doing okay and maybe, if I can admit it, to see if he still loved me, however little that may be.
I watched from my spot on the other side of the room as the crowd began to disperse, leaving JJ with some blonde. I vaguely recognized her from a shoot for one of my mom’s brands. I believe her parents worked in the fashion industry as well. Which would have been fine, had she not said something that had him give her one of those rare smiles, the ones he used to give me in private. 
Nausea roiled in my stomach, maybe it was all the tequila or maybe it was seeing him smile at someone else when all I wanted was for him to smile at me. 
She leaned into him, a coy smile played her lips, running her fingers down the shirt I bought him, which basically made it mine. And I hated when people touched my things.
The mix of tequila and coke emboldened me. I found my feet moving in their direction before I could stop myself. 
“I wouldn't waste your time.” I could not get myself to stop talking.
“Why’s that?” The blonde’s eyes narrowed, her cheaply manicured hand resting on JJ’s bicep.
“JJ doesn’t go for kooks or so I’ve been told.” 
“Maybe he just didn’t go for you.” Oh, how cute. 
“Oh honey,” I sighed dramatically and took one step towards her, tilting my head to the side, dragging my eyes up her body, in obvious distaste. “Are you new here?”
“Well, yeah but-“ She tried to explain. 
Clearly, she needed a run through on how the social ladder worked here. I was at the top and everyone else was at the bottom. 
“Your mom works for some brand from Paris right?” I watched as her eyebrows pulled together in confusion. 
“She does. We moved here because she’s doing a collab with-“
“With my mom.” 
“So I suggest you take your hand off of him,” I smiled on cue, my tone dipped in sugar before batting my eyelashes at her innocently,” Unless you want her blacklisted?” 
I could see her debating what to do. She didn’t know if I was bluffing but she'd learn rather quickly just how far I was willing to go. 
“Hmm, cute shoes.” I hummed, “Chanel?” 
She nodded, apprehension on her face. 
“Won’t be able to buy those anymore if your mom doesn’t have a job.” 
Her hand fell and satisfaction settled into my like molten lava. “You can go now.” 
The blonde pursed her lips and stalked off, leaving me alone with JJ. “Trying a new type”
“And what type would that be?”
“Desperate.”
JJ tipped his mouth, saluting me before taking a sip of his drink. His eyes already glazed over from the joint in his hand. 
“A thank you would be nice?” I muttered, taking another pull from my tequila. I couldn’t talk to him sober or I’d lose my nerve.
“A thank you?” He appeared almost amused, adjusting his red hat. 
“Yeah, I just saved you.”
“I didn't realize I needed saving.” 
“Self-preservation was never really your strong suit was it?” 
JJ laughed, his eyes straying to the bottle cradled in my arms. “I could say the same thing, Princess.” 
Fuck him for calling me that. So what, I’ve learned to indulge just a little. It made everything in my life a little more manageable. 
“It’s called having fun, JJ.” Pouting as he snatched the bottle from arms just as I went to take another shot. “Since when did you become the responsible one?”
JJ leveled me with an unamused stare. 
I huffed, blowing a stray strand of hair out of my face. “Tough crowd.”
JJ snorted, pushing the leaves of a nearby plant back before dumping the remaining tequila. My mouth dropped open as he wasted every last drop of my liquid courage. 
How the hell was I going to talk to him now? 
I pursed my lips, “That was mean.”
“I’m doing what your boyfriend should have done an hour ago.” His gaze fixed on my face, the intense stare causing my cheeks to turn red. God, would he stop staring at me?
“He doesn’t tell me what to do.”
“Then he shouldn’t have left you alone.” His tone laced with annoyance, “You have all these fuckers staring at you and you’re wasted.”
I tilted my head back to stare up at him, the annoyance I knew came from a place of panic. That was just how JJ was wired. 
“So you’re in love with me?” Someone come arrest me, because I cannot keep my mouth closed.
JJ shook his head clearly fighting back a smile. “You’re so crazy.” 
“What else could that mean?” I asked truthfully and I knew I had a love struck smile on my face. One that I’ve only given to one man in my life and he stood in front of me.
I just wanted to be near him. I wanted to hear his laugh and see him smile.
His face softened at my words. “Are you okay? Does he take care of you?”
“Of course, I’m okay. Why do you ask?”
“Only one of us is fucking loaded.” 
I rolled my eyes and plucked the joint from his fingers. “Correct me if I’m wrong, and we both know I rarely am, are you not high too?” 
“Not from cocaine.”
“Already back to judging so soon?” I mused, taking a hit off the joint, the familiar stinging sensation wrapped around my lungs and squeezed. “Careful, I might think you care.”
Kill me now. Thank god, he took away the tequila.
“Who said I ever stopped?” My heart lurched in my throat.
I blew the smoke out slowly, my fogged up brain rushing to keep up with his words. 
Someone stumbled in front of me, slamming into my shoulder sending me flying forward into JJ’s arms. Something cold and wet splattered onto me, the bitter liquid dripping down my legs.
“Are you blind?” I shouted, shoving another drunk party goer off me. Looked like a tourist. 
She held her hands up in apology.
“I’m so sorry. Here, let me help.” To my absolute horror, this fucking tourist used a napkin and went to scrub the stain. Are these people animals? This was custom versace.
“Stop!” My cheeks flushed, from the weed or from my constant streak of bad luck. “Clearly, you’ve never owned anything worth keeping but this is Versace, you dick.”
I needed to go home before I burned this entire house down. 
“Is that how you talk to people now?”
I let out a loud groan. “Oh fuck off, JJ.”
I shoved him away from me, before grabbing the skirt of my dress and heading into the nearest bathroom, which just so happened to be Rafe’s. 
In reality, I just needed to get away from him. I needed my hands to be busy so that I couldn't grab his face and kiss him. Because I really wanted to do that. 
The sound of footsteps have my eyes widening in panic as I take in my ruined dress. All because of that blonde asshole next to me, if he hadn’t showed up, I’d still have my tequila and my sanity.
“I wanted to talk.”
I made a noise at the back of my throat. That didn’t sound like JJ at all.
“Fine, whatever. Close the door.” I didn’t need a million other people to see me lose my shit. I was already at my quota for the day. 
Jj stared at me with a confused look. “Close the door.” I nearly shout as the footsteps get closer but he moves just as quickly and slammed it shut, putting the lock in place.
“I just got this piece too.” I grumbled, huffing at the stained skirt. It was the Medusa 95’ Cut Out Mini dress in a stunning pastel pink. And now ruined with a beer stain from that horrible girl outside. 
“I remember this one.” JJ spoke from behind me. Of course he did. He remembered everything I bought. 
He always demanded fashion shows after all my shopping trips. He knew nothing about clothes but he always paid attention to me. He used to sit for hours while I prattled on and on about clothes.
“Unzip me?” 
“I’m sorry?” He choked out, setting his beer down.
“I need to clean it before it stains. Unzip me.” 
In hindsight, I was goading him. I wanted to see what he would do. I could tell he was already on edge since seeing me with Rafe. I wondered what a little push would do.
Neither of us moved for a beat. JJ puffed out a breath from his cheeks before he walked toward me slowly. I remained stock still, watching his every move in the mirror.  “It’s not like you haven’t seen it all before.” 
My heart fluttered at his nearness. Something I wanted since the minute he turned around and left. Home, I wanted my home back.
I jumped up at the feel of his warm breath against the back of my neck, goosebumps rising instantly. The tug of the zipper had me swallowing the lump in my throat. His other finger caressing every inch of skin, the zipper surrendered. 
The sound of the zipper stopped but he never dropped his hand. Instead, I watched as JJ swallowed before lifting his head, those storming blue eyes connecting with mine in the mirror. 
I stood on my Magda Butrym Appliquéd satin sandals and a flimsy pair of tiny panties. 
“I feel like this is a test.” I watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed.
“Is it?” I mused, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. 
“Yeah and I’m failing.” 
The pads of his thumb brushed along my bottom lip, dragging it down slowly. My lips parted as a soft whimper escaped. 
“You’re still so beautiful, it hurts.” He murmured, almost angry with the revelation. 
Blistering hot satisfaction dripped over me. 
JJ’s other hand grazed my bare back, the contact immediately chasing my back to arch. Sparks of sensitivity erupted from my skin as my body trembled with hot desire. 
His hand moved higher, gripping onto my hair before wrapping the long strands around his hand, tugging my head back, demanding my attention. 
He stared at me with heavy lids, eyes like ocean blue blades. My body began to heat up. 
JJ’s eyes dropped back to my lips causing me to the lick them quickly. He backed me up against the Jack and Jill sink, my back resting against the cool granite counter. 
I blinked slowly, making the decision for him, angling my head up and smashing my lips to his. 
A groan ripped from his chest as he met my kiss with the same crippling desperation. His rough hands dropped from my face to my hips, his nails digging crescent shaped marks in the skin. 
My legs began to slightly shake as his tongue finally brushed against mine. Oxygen was something neither of us needed as we fed off each other's energy. 
His tongue licked and twirled around my own, another moan vibrating between us. JJ’s large hand trailed up skin, goosebumps appearing in its wake, before locking around my throat. 
His grip was strong, not enough to cut off my oxygen but enough to garner my attention. He pulled me up to my tippy toes by my neck, my nipples brushing against the rough fabric of his shirt making me gasp at the contact. His mouth clashed with mine once more, his lips wrapped around my tongue, sucking gently before pulling back and biting out a curse. 
My hands were desperate as they began to unbutton his shirt quickly, pushing the fabric off his shoulders. JJ whipped off the shirt just as my hands began reaching for his shorts, my fingers fumbling with the button. 
The laugh he let out was devastating. His smile was purely lethal for my heart. “We got all the time in the world, princess.” 
My stomach clenched at the nickname he gave me all those years ago. But, we didn’t. We both knew this moment would end the minute we came to our senses. 
JJ unbuttoned his pants and dropped them in one smooth movement before pressing his warm body against mine once more.
“Up, baby.” My arms wrapped around his neck immediately, my nose grazing his. JJ gripped my thighs tight as he placed me on top of the counter. 
He rested the palm of his hands on either side of me, enclosing my frame, daring me to move. JJ leaned down, his lips leaving phantom kisses along my collarbone, nipping as he went along. He stopped at the swell of my breasts, both hands encasing my heavy aching breasts before pressing them together. 
He pressed scorching hot, open-mouthed kisses on every inch of exposed skin. His tongue pressing against my swollen nipples before closing around one and giving a strong suck. I was a mess beneath him, my chest heaving with heavy pants. 
He nipped and tugged at the soft flesh of my breasts, leaving small purple love bites scattered on my chest. He pressed a kiss on each one, a pleased hum echoing within the bathroom. 
JJ dropped to his knees slowly, each hand running down my bare legs. I wanted to see him. 
I leaned back on the palm of my hands and arched my back in a teasing invitation. Pulling my legs from his grasp, I propped my feet up on the counter, but kept my knees bent, the tops touching.
The utter obsession that painted his face had me biting down on my lip hard enough to draw blood. “Please, Jayj.”
He stood stock still, similar to a statue. It looked like he almost stopped breathing as I slowly pushed my knees apart. I was drenched, I could feel myself soaking the skimpy fabric of my thong, my thighs glistening with the evidence of my arousal. 
JJ’s eyes went black, locking in on my wet pussy before jumping back up to me. His hands found my thighs and roughly dug into the skin to keep my legs from closing. 
He leaned forward, his index finger hooking the front of my thong before curling the fabric and tugging it up roughly between my lips. “Fuck.” I mewled, watching as he pressed his face between my legs and inhaled deeply. 
I could feel my clit throbbing, needing to be touched. With one more tug, JJ slaps the side of my thigh, having me lift my hips up to take the last piece of fabric off my body. An insatiable grin formed on his face that went straight to my clit.
The first touch onto my lips had my hips shooting off the counter, his touch like electricity. He blew a breath against the aching skin, his hot mouth watering at the sight of me. Two fingers pushed apart my drenched folds, rubbing against the sensitive skin again and again, turning me into a mindless puddle. 
He smirked at my trembling legs. “You okay, baby?”
“Fuck off.” I responded through gritted teeth, trying to gather myself. 
He dipped forward, gathering saliva before slowly spitting it out, the stream of spit pattering against my spread lips. The sound was obscene. 
“That’s not very nice.” 
Tears of frustration began to build up as I discarded my hands into those loose blonde strands, knocking his hat off. “You love it.”
The grin he sent me was feral and I knew this was exactly what I needed. “I sure do, princess.”
He enclosed his mouth against my swollen clit and sucked roughly, a loud shout erupting from the depths of my chest. JJ parted my lips again, forcing his tongue inside and out, again and again, devouring every inch of my pussy. 
My cunt clenched against his tongue making him moan loudly. My body was burning as he swirled his tongue along the bundle of nerves once more. Another cry left me as I tried to find something to grab onto. His tongue lapped up all the fluids that continued to come out and I found myself forgetting how to breathe. 
I pushed his face deeper, grinding against his nose that continuously rubbed against my clit, my fingers tugging at his hair, needing a release. The knot in my lower stomach began to tighten as I whispered his name again and again like a prayer. The sound of my breathy pleas spur him on as he slipped two fingers in my pussy, meeting no resistance. 
The squelching noises had me throwing my head back against the mirror which had begun to fog up. I clenched around his large fingers that rubbed against my sensitive walls wanting him to lose control. 
JJ curled his fingers upward causing my knees to buckle and my mind go blank. I was close and he knew based on the tremors the shook my legs. I could barely hold myself up as everything went fuzzy. 
A choked moan escaped my lips that curled into a ‘o’ as his mouth sucked that rigid spot of flesh while his fingers continued to hammer into me. The invisible band snapped and as a wave of pleasure washed over me. My body finally began to relax as I tried to catch my breath, my chest rising and falling dramatically. 
I spared a glance at him. JJ’s eyes were low, eyes pitch black and glued to my face, and his cheeks flushed red. He looked pussy drunk. 
“Looks like I have to clean you up.” He mumbled against the flesh of my thighs. My eyes rolled to the back of my head as his hot tongue began to catch all the arousal that dripped down my thighs. I was sensitive and tried to move back, but his hands locked around my thighs to keep them open. Shives forced their way up my spine as he lapped all my fluids up, humming as he went along, not leaving one bit of skin untouched. JJ pressed one last kiss before pulling back and licking his lips.
My heart hammered through my chest and vaguely though my haze of pleasure did I hear a murmur.
“Huh?” I felt him smile against my thigh, clearly finding my delirious state funny.
“Barry, man, have you seen her?” Rafe’s voice drifted under the door. 
I froze at the sound of his voice, my eyes darting to JJ who just smirked from his spot between my legs. 
“She’s right here, man.” JJ whispered, straightening up to press a kiss on the crown of my head. I shook my head at him, my eyes wide with a silent plea, but JJ disregarded it. 
 “She’s a little busy at the moment.” 
I shook my head, pressing my palm against his mouth, his next words coming out muffled. He never knew when to shut up. The last thing I needed was Rafe finding us in his bathroom.
I kept my hand on JJ’s mouth until footsteps faded and we were alone once again. 
JJ nipped at the palm of my hands, his tongue slipping out. My face screwed up as I let out a squeal, “Ew, Jayj.” 
“Shouldn’t have tried to shut me up to protect your boyfriend’s feelings.” He said the words lightly, but I could hear the slight edge in his tone. 
Pushing him off my softly, I hopped off the counter with shaky legs. “Since when do you care about Rafe’s feelings?”
I winced as I tried to take a step, my knees nearly knocking together from the aftershock. JJ always left me a shaking disheveled mess afterwards, but I felt lighter, because he was looking at me the way he used to. 
And, I wanted that to last just a bit longer. 
“I don’t care about his feelings-“ He scoffed, before pausing at the teasing smile on my lips. “You’re fucking with me.”
“Too easy.” I let out a shriek of laughter as JJ's arms wrapped around my waist, lifting me up in the air.
That was how I found myself sweaty, pressed against Rafe’s sheets, struggling to breathe. The violent sound of skin slapping echoing in the room, my raspy moans intertwining with his hot pants. 
One of JJ’s hands gripped the back of my head, pinning me to the mattress, the other pushing down on my back, forming a deep arch, to pull his cock in deeper. 
I couldn’t register anything he was muttering as he bottomed out since of me, my mind go blank. My walls spasmed against him with each rut of his hip, sucking him back in every time he pulled back. 
I was soaked, my pussy dripping around him. The sopping wet noises spurring him on, his pace quickening with those deep purposeful strokes. 
I couldn’t focus on anything but him. The smell; the feel of him. The way his cock continued to brush against my cervix made me borderline delicious. 
“Fuck,” JJ shuddered, rolling his hips in and out of my pussy had me clamping around him once more, a tidal wave beginning to build up inside me. 
 I whimper left me, the coil in my stomach pulling tight as I searched for a release. The tip of his cock pressed into me repeatedly, forcing my legs to shake once more. 
My hands searched for something to hold onto as I tried to anchor myself from being drowned in pleasure. “J. J, I-I cant-I’m gonna-“
I felt his pace begin to pick him, his cock twitching inside me as he continued his movements, grinding his hips against the globes of my ass, until there was no space between us. 
It was like he was imprinting himself into my skin. Like he didn’t want me to forget him. 
As if I could ever forget JJ Maybank. 
My whines got louder, his words becoming more and more depraved. His large calloused hands ran all over my body like he was etching it to memory. 
Quick and quiet gasps bled from my parted lips, as he hammered into me from behind, his hands lacing with mine against the sheets. 
The coil in my stomach snapped, white flash blinding my vision, this orgasim more intense than the first. I could feel myself coating his hips and upper thighs, fluids dripping on the sheets. 
I could hear JJ’s voice whine, he began to babble nonsense under his breath, with each languid thrust. 
My heartbeat was in my ears as I pushed my hips back to match his thrusts, wanting him to finish despite all my sensitivity coming to head. His nails dug my hips, my cunt suffocating as he continued to grunt his cock into me. 
“Fuck, Kiara.” His grunt echoed in the room.
Kiara? 
I went numb. I couldn’t breathe-I couldn’t, I needed-
Bile coated my throat as whatever childish hope I had shriveled up in my chest. So I laid there, not knowing what to do, as JJ continued to pump in and out of me, but the soft intimacy we shared before dissipated. 
Why did no one ever pick me? Why didn’t anyone want me? 
I let my body go limp even though everything in me wanted to shove him off, but I just couldn’t get myself to move.
That was all it took for JJ to realize the slip of his tongue. JJ froze behind me as I shoved my face into my arms and choked on a gut wrenching sob. 
“Fuck, I-hold on,” JJ’s panick was audible as he slowly pulled out of me. I cupped my mouth to try and muffle the scream I wanted to let out. 
His blue eyes widened in horror at his mistake but it was too late. The words were already burned into my mind, replaying on a torturous loop.
JJ’s hand reached out for me, but I shrank back, scrambling to the headboard, desperate to put distance between us. 
I curled into myself, pressing my back hard against the headboard, willing for myself to disappear. 
“What did you just call me?” My chin wobbled. I tried to remind myself to breathe but with each inhale, my lungs were saturated with pain. 
“I-That was an accident.” He stuttered, raking his hands through his hair roughly.
“Get out.” 
“It just slipped out, I didn’t mean it.” 
“Get the hell out, JJ.” I yelled, and pointed at the door with a shaky finger. 
Like I said, his words never dented me, no they completely destroyed me. They cut me like a freshly honed razor blade.
And I was going to die of blood loss if I didn’t get him to leave this room. He had no problem leaving me then, why was he fighting it now?
Was he thinking about her the whole time he was inside me? 
Thought after thought haunted me. Was he comparing our bodies? Was he comparing the sex? 
Mortification had my stomach churning as I debated what to do next. My body was wound tight, on the verge of hyperventilating. 
Did he love her? Did he love her like he used to love me? Did he fuck her the way he fucked me?
I hated him. Before him, none of these thoughts would have crossed my mind. I may have been alone but at least I liked who I was. I never would have questioned myself the way I am now. But after him, the only thing I hated more than him was myself.
“Was Kiara not available,” I murmured, “so you came to the one person you knew would say yes?”
JJ didn’t find my joke funny. The air was tense, as if we were trapped in a steamed up bathroom, making each breath harder than the last.
“Kie and I aren’t together.”
“JJ, you know where the door is. Use it.” 
“I don’t want to leave.” He shook his head, his eyes flickering with something heavy. 
“You had no problem doing it before.”
“That was-“ JJ squeezed his eyes shut, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
He shuffled closer to my body, but still wasn't touching me. I nibbled on my bottom lip and wiped the remaining tears from my cheeks hastily. 
“I’m sorry.” He said, clearing his throat. “I am so so sorry.”
I lost my grip completely as those eyes perverted mine. His eyes were so blue, it was easy to get lost in them. 
Words couldn’t find their way out of my mouth. With wary eyes, I watched as he stood up and disappeared in the bathroom before appearing again with his shirt. 
JJ reached for me before pausing, his eyes asking a silent question. I nodded, forcing myself to loosen the grip I had on the sheets. 
I let him put the shirt on me, its protection better than the flimsy sheet. JJ dropped his head on my chest, his tan arms wrapped around my waist, curling himself into me. 
“I’m sorry.” 
I was sorry too. I waited for months for him to be back in my arms, but he ruined every independent thought I had. I couldn’t stop the overthinking. I couldn’t stop the pain.
I was hurting too, but I was the one comforting him. I was always the one comforting him. What about me?
I laid on the soft sheets and stared up at the ceiling. Our heavy breathing echoing in an otherwise silent room. His heavy arm tossed over naked torso, his fingers softly tracing the curve. The whisper of his breath caressing the nape of my neck where his face was buried. The familiar tickle of his golden strands brushing against my nose, his coconut shampoo wafting my senses.
The JJ induced haze began to clear up and the ugliness began to set in. 
A single tear escaped my eye, its trailing burning it’s way down the side of my face. I loved him. Even after he willingly abandoned me. After he humiliated me in front of everyone. After he called me her name.
I couldn’t cut him out. It didn’t matter what he did to me, the minute we’re within the same vicinity, my self preservation disappeared. Then I was left, treading water in the middle of a storm, with nothing but a life jacket. 
I had no one to blame but myself in this situation. I knew how he spoke to me, how easily he left me, how embarrassed he was of me. But he just smiled and it was like everything melted away. 
I so badly wanted to feel again, but not like this.
So all I can do is lay here. In this bed. With a boy who made me hate the kind person that I was. 
I made my bed. I didn’t realize this was how I’d feel when I lied in it. I turned into someone I hated. And suddenly I was bone-tired, exhaustion suffocating my lungs. I had no idea who I was and I was tired of being someone I wasn’t. 
“Where are my clothes?” I said. God, I needed to leave this room before Rafe found me. 
“I wasn’t really focused on that part, babe.” JJ mumbled, burrowing himself deeper into my side. 
My stomach lurched. I thought I’d feel different. I thought that maybe this would fix everything. That in some deluded way, we would get back together and everything else didn’t matter. Like he didn’t leave me standing at the party after stomping on my chest.
“I need them.” I mumbled. I choked down the need to throw up. The feel of our sweat coating my body and his soft breaths against my skin had me almost hyperventilating. 
Home, he used to be home. But, I’ve never felt like more of a stranger than in his arms right now. This was no longer my home. 
Kook pussy. Daddy issues.
I fucked up. Fuck, I fucked up. 
This only made me feel worse. I was good enough to fuck, but not enough to stay. 
“What are you in such a hurry for?” His fingers paused their persistent movement. 
“I have to get back-“
“To who?” JJ snapped. 
I moved to sit up, dragging the sheet with me as I avoided his gaze. “You know who.”
He didn’t need to know that Rafe and I basically ended. I just wanted him to hurt in the same way I did.
He let out a scoff. “You can’t be serious?” 
“Dead serious.” 
“This isn’t like you-“
“You left. You don’t know who I am anymore.” 
“Clearly,” he chuckled under his breath, “But suddenly Rafe does?”
I shrugged. “He’s my friend.”
“I don’t give a fuck who he is-“
I tuned him out. I was too busy trying to get his actual voice out of my head. 
Kiara. Not me. Kiara. Not me. 
It had taken every bit of strength to not chase after him that day. To not call and text, begging for him to give me the time of day. And I know, I know I should be stronger. I know I should have said good riddance and moved on, but love was never simple. 
When I saw him tonight, I thought that maybe it was fate. So all the waiting, all the practice of self control paid off because he came back. But, was this what was waiting for me?
“You slept with me,” I said, “ but you’re thinking about her?”
I didn’t want to know the answer, but I had to ask it. It was just one of a million questions I had since the day he walked away. Was there something I could have done differently?
I was wracking my brain to see where I had gone wrong, but maybe I just fell in love with the wrong person.
“From what I hear, you don’t care about anything these days. Why would you care about this?” I couldn’t detect any emotion in his words, just cold hard facts. 
I really was out here exceeding everyone’s expectations of me. 
But, he had to know that when it came to him, I always cared too much. That’s why his words caused another jagged piece of my heart to puncture my chest.
“Why would I care?” I whispered, shaking my head at him. “Are you listening to yourself?” 
Had I deluded myself so much into thinking we experienced the same love in our relationship? How could he even question that. Everything I did was always for him.
“I care about you, that never changed.”
Something pained flickered through his gaze. “Care about me? Yet your fucking Rafe Cameron.” 
“You’re mad about that?” I choked on a humorless laugh,”Let me jog your memory real quick since apparently you’ve got amnesia, you were the one that told me to be with him.” 
“Well, I didn’t think you’d actually do that to me.”
I threw my arms up in the air, exasperated,”Then why say it at all? Wait, I forgot who I’m talking to. You’re the king of saying shit you don’t mean.” 
“Saying shit and actually doing it are two different things.”
“Well, you did do it Jayj.” My lungs hitched. 
His jaw tightened, tension seeping out of him in waves. 
“You left. You did the one thing you promised you’d never do. You didn’t even look back as you did it.” I shouted, tears blurring my vision as my body continued to shake from adrenaline. “All because what? Rafe hurt your feelings? Because I have more money than you?”
I wanted to understand him. I thought I did once, but the more I thought about our breakup the more I saw it had nothing to do with me. And everything to do with him.
“Do me a favor and grow up. This is the real world. You’d swap places with any one of us in a second if you could.” 
JJ narrowed his eyes. “I don’t want any part of your world. I thought I made that clear.”
“I’m aware. But I was there, remember? For every bonfire, for every boat ride with you and your friends. What was it you guys said again?” It rushed out of me, “to going full kook?”
He watched me stoically, his fingers tugging at his bracelets. 
“I guess you’re the only one that can have the money in the relationship?” I raised my eyebrow at him, waiting for him to respond. 
The beautiful blonde boy that seeped into my bloodstream and made me love him. But, ruined us in the process. He destroyed everything he touched. 
He pressed the heel of his palms against his eyes, 
“What happened?”
“You want to know what happened? You fucking happened.”
That familiar anger flared in his eyes and I knew exactly what he was going to do. What he always did to me, but this time, I wasn’t going to let him erase me. Not again.
“Let’s talk about who you turned into?” JJ spat vehemently. “What? Rafe buys you a nice purse and you’re suddenly snorting lines of coke?” 
“It was actually a couple purses.” 
JJ shot daggers at me. “So what? You’re proud of that?” No, I only wanted someone to care about me if I died.
“I’m only doing what you told me, I’m sorry you don’t like the person you turned me into.”
I didn’t like her much either. But, JJ never gave me more and I realized he would never give me more, no matter how much I pushed. No matter how hard I tried to get him to see that I was the one he should be with. 
It pained me that it took all of this for me to realize that there were parts of JJ he would never let anyone have. 
“Why are you still here?” I said quietly. “I’m not going to let you sit here and make me feel like shit for how I chose to cope with what you broke.” 
I was done giving the men in my life power over me. I needed to stand on my own two feet even if that meant I had to do it alone. 
“Feel like shit?” JJ nodded his head with mock outrage,” Princess, you just let me fuck you in your boyfriend’s bed. I think you feel like shit already.” 
He was right, but I still recoiled back at the venom he spat at me. I sagged with exhaustion. He was just lashing out the way he always did.
“I didn’t know, JJ.” My voice cracked. “I-I didn’t know. I just did what I thought I was supposed to do.”
JJ’s head snapped up at the waver in my voice. His ocean eyes showed a clear battle, one I knew he’d lose. “S-Sometimes it just felt like I wasn’t good enough.”
His confession broke me. I knew the thoughts that ravaged his brain only because those same thoughts now drown in mine.  
My fingers twisted the hem of the shirt that my body was swimming in, a nervous tic I never got rid of. “But I never said that to you, you listened to everyone but me. You were more than enough.”
A tortured look passed his face, like the obvious miscommunication had disrupted everything. “I thought I was being paraded around to prove a point.”
I roughly wiped the tears that kept falling, “It’s okay to not want to struggle for everything in your life, JJ. You were exhausted and I just wanted to help you.”
“I didn’t know. I-just didn’t know.” I continued to repeat.  And I didn't. I had no experience with love. I wanted him to have the world since he was born with less than most people I knew, yet he deserved so much more.
“You let your friends help you, I don’t understand how I was any different.”
His blonde hair was sticking up in multiple directions, a clear sign of his obvious distress. "Because they’re my family."
Irremediable sorrow burrowed in my chest. "But, I was your family too."
I felt layers of grief his me in waves, quick and hard, one after the other as I came to terms with the fact that JJ never considered me any part of his family.
"You were the only family I ever had. I thought I was your family.” I sniffled, my ribs began to ache from the constant crying. 
A loud crack had me jump back as Rafe bursted into the room, chest heaving from exertion. He paused, his eyes locking in on the messed up sheets before dragging over to me and scanning my disheveled appearance. 
I thought we hit a milestone. JJ finally started talking and letting me know exactly what was going on in that brain of his. And maybe, that would be enough for me, for now. This all happened because JJ didn’t know how to communicate and I knew that wasn’t his fault, but at one point he needed to grow up. 
I was willing to hold his hand while he did it. But I watched as JJ’s eyes clocked the necklace Rafe wore with my initials. His gaze narrowed at the purse in his hand and my car keys in the other. 
The jealousy was evident in the way he rolled his shoulders back, his face granite. “Cute necklace.”
Rafe smirked, tilting his head to the side. “Thanks. It looks even better swinging in her face.”
JJ’s cool demeanor dropped, his blue eyes darkened into a brewing storm. “Enjoy my seconds, bro.” He clapped Rafe on the chest. 
My heart popped in my chest at his words, another bandage would do little to fix the shards that once resembled a heart. And, I knew then, that JJ confirmed the conclusion I just came to myself. 
“JJ?”
“What?”
“You were right. I do deserve better than you.” 
Loving him cost me something much greater: myself. 
I couldn’t continue to hide myself in any man that told me pretty words. I was no longer my own person, just a mere extension of them. One that they treated poorly and only took out when they were bored. I was always willing to do what they would never do for me.
I was just a girl, in love with an extraordinary boy who couldn’t see past all the things he was not.
I walked over to where Rafe was, forcing myself to remember his cruel words also. It was the only way I could get myself to walk out of here. My eyes lingered on the necklace for a second before I pulled my keys from his grasp and grabbed my purse. 
I wore nothing but JJ’s shirt, but at the moment I couldn’t care less. I left my clothes in Rafe’s bathroom, deciding it was better to leave them then spend another second in either of their soul sucking presence. I could always buy another dress. 
I couldn’t buy another me. Not if I kept letting these boys break me. 
This time, I was the one that never looked back.
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Side note: I WROTE THIS THREE TIMES so pls pls pls be nice to me. I tried to incorporate a lot of people's ideas. I know the OC is very wishy washy but she's so real for that.
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liahaslosthermind · 30 days ago
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~𝐓𝐡𝐞 đ’đ©đČ đŒđšđŹđ­đžđ«'𝐬 đ’đžđœđ«đžđ­~ Part 3
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Part 3 of The Spy Master's Secret Find more ACOTAR works here! Summary: The Inner Circle meets the most important person in Azriel's life. Warnings: Lia rewrites what the Carranam bond is to fit her own fantasy, (Mention of) Bad injuries and domestic abuse, (Mention of) Azriel's dad đŸ€ą, Inner Circle loves to STAY in Azriel's business, I actually write Rhys as not an asshole in this one
“My Carranam.” The Spy Master replied.
No one was given time to think, much less respond, before Azriel had commanded everyone to leave the room. They would have been more reluctant to do so, the desire to know what the hell he meant was painful, had the serious look on the strange female’s face, and the look of despair on Azriel’s, had given them the impression this conversation was better left between the two. 
Out in the hallway, Cassian finally voiced his concern, 
“Should we have left him alone with whoever that was? He isn’t in any state to be fighting back should he ne-”
Amren scoffed at the question. “I’d trust her with him far more than you all.”
 “What do you mean? Do you know her?” Elain asked.
“No, but he is her Carranam. You all might not know the significance of such a bond- I don’t even know much about it myself, but I know enough to believe there is no one who would protect and cherish him more.” There was a sort of amazement and respect in Amren’s eyes that told the rest of them that she was right. Gave them enough information to walk away from the bedroom, content on letting Azriel come to them when he was ready.
—
The Inner Circle was no longer content waiting for their Spy Master to make an appearance. All had been sitting at the dining table for what must have been millenia, plates full with no appetite as millions of questions swarmed their heads. Amren had seemingly been the only one to have any idea what any of this could have meant, but the second she got the chance, she disappeared so she wouldn’t be bothered with questions about something that had nothing to do with her. 
Finally, Nesta broke the silence.
“Do you think he is purposefully trying to torture us by taking forever?” She asked, eyeing the very apparent shadows in the corner that had been slithering to and from the room since they had all sat down. “Or do you think she is-”
“It would be my fault Azriel was occupied for a bit.” The strange fae announced as she entered the room, Azriel by her side with a slight limp. The two looked
 strange together, but also so right. White feathered wings stood tall behind the female, nicely contrasting Azriel’s leathery Illyrian ones. Where he was crowned in darkness and shadows, she seemed to have bathed in light. It should have contrasted each other terribly, but their stark differences only seemed to compliment the other.
It also didn’t escape anyone’s notice how their friend looked thousands of times better than he did just hours earlier.
He was still clearly injured, but far from the edge of death he teetered on these past few days.
“How? Madja could only do so much for him.” Rhysand asked, astonished at how well his brother looked.
She helped him into his seat before taking the empty one next to him. Even as they got comfortable, her hand never left his arm, finding comfort in his touch after days of agony and helplessness.
“Junia is a healer. The best Dawn has to offer.” Azriel said, the pride clear in his voice. It made sense that she- Junia had been from Dawn. A Peregryn and an Illyrian, two lesser fae known for their warrior skills and inherent desire for the skies. 
“I am not as skilled as Madja, but it's easier to heal when you know exactly what is wrong, exactly what hurts.” Junia said, rolling her eyes at Azriel’s shameless bragging. 
She let out a deep and rich laugh as she looked at everyone’s faces, all pained by the many questions swirling around in there. Feyre noted that she hadn’t heard such a joyous laugh since Azriel had done the same when Elain had gifted him medicine for all the headaches the Inner Circle gave him. 
Clearly, whatever bond they had between them was deep.
“You better introduce me, put them out of their misery.” She teased Az, who had been too caught up relishing her laugh, after a very long and rough berating it was nice to see her not seconds away from tearing out his wings. 
“R-right. Uh- this is my- well this is-” Azriel stammered.
“Mother above Az, don’t hurt yourself," Cassian amused.
Azriel closed his mouth as he blushed, unsure of how to go about this. 
“My name is Junia. As the brooding bat said, I am his Carranam.” Junia answered, side eyeing Azriel.
Keep it together, Az. It's a little pathetic. 
Azriel responded to her teasing look with a glare. We haven’t had to tell anyone about this in a while. Why don’t you try to explain it to these idiots if you are so clever.
Rhysand noticed the silent conversation going on between them.
“You can converse like Daemati? Is that your ability?” The High Lord asked her.
They both hesitated, realizing they didn’t really know how their so-called “telepathy” worked.
“No- or I don’t believe so at least. When you communicate with someone, you are doing so verbally, even if not aloud, correct? I don’t hear Azriel’s voice in my head, I just feel what he is trying to tell me, if that makes sense.”
“Like a mating bond?” Feyre questioned.
“Also no. It's not our feelings that are conveyed solely, we can gather more specific meaning from it. Yes, Junia would feel I was not excited for this conversation, but she would also know I was offering her one last chance to leave, should she also not want to deal with all of your
 strong personalities.” Azriel responded, looking at Junia. He really didn’t want to have this conversation with his family.
She laughed at his desperation which, while very clear to her, she knew the Inner Circle was none the wiser to the just how far Azriel was willing to go to leave this table. She could see him coming up with escape routes in his head as he picked up his wine glass. 
“Oh you poor delicate flower,” She teased. 
Unfortunately, they all still noticed the blush that once again appeared on Az’s face, laughing at their scary brother, head tortured of the Night Court, being compared to a ‘delicate flower’. 
Downing the rest of his glass, Azriel finally explained.
“A carranam bond isn’t like a mating bond. It comes from an old phrase, A Soul Friend. It gives Junia and I the ability to channel each other's powers, even make them stronger when we are together. Like you noticed, we have a different, more intimate way of communicating, far stronger than Daemati and mates can.”
“How the hell has no one else here heard of this bond?” Nesta asked, skeptical. Seems like something a group of people as obsessed with the mating bond would know about.
“It is rare, extremely so. There are also many
 vulnerabilities that come with a bond such as this. To find your carranam is hard enough, most will never be born with one. But to accept such a bond is dangerous. And unfortunately there have been instances of others abusing such a gift. Tying their carranam up to reap their abilities, taking so much from them that both end up going insane. It became illegal in many places and eventually was forgotten by our world.” Junia answered.
“How did you find out what you guys had?” Feyre jumped in.
While this was Junia’s story as much as Azriel’s, she hesitated. Because there was another factor to that story, and she didn’t believe she was the one who should talk about it first.
Another glance between the two, a question asked. Azriel answered it by speaking up, “Junia is from Dawn. After my
 mother was released- rescued from my father’s abuse, she wasn’t in wonderful shape. Fortunately, Rhys, Cassian, and myself found a place created by High Lord Thesan’s mother that offered aid to those escaping similar situations, Rosehall. That is where Junia worked as head healer. She helped my mother a lot throughout the years.” Such admiration and gratitude in his voice made several people at the table start to tear up.
Everyone was quiet. While Rhysand, Cassian, and Mor knew the story of Azriel’s mother being sent to Rosehall, they hadn’t known about Junia, just about the healer Az’s mother had gotten along with-
“You are the friend of his mother’s he sends gifts to every Solstice?” Mor asked, having been approached by Azriel for help with buying said gifts many times in the past.
“I thought you picked those gifts out yourself? You didn’t tell me Mor did all the work.” Junia turned to Az.
“I do pick them out, you just have peculiar taste. I have needed her help locating shops to buy such things before. That's it.” Az defended.
I certainly do have peculiar taste she silently said to Az who, again, blushed at the double entendre.
He quickly cleared his throat, “A few years after my mother had entered her care, while I was visiting, there was an attack on Rosehall. It was one of the families of a newer resident enacting revenge for escaping abuse. When many were hurt or dying
 or dead, the two of us the only ones available to help, this bond had snapped out because of that desperation. It was new but it felt like it had always been there. We both leaned into the feeling and fortunately it didn’t end terribly. Suddenly, my shadows were able to start healing, and were able to talk to Junia, giving her any info on people who needed her help that she couldn’t see.”
Everyone was astonished at such a story. So different but also so similar to the mating bond. 
“Since then we have been each others’ confidants. While we don’t live particularly close, shadow walking gives me the ability to come to him whenever, and vice versa. Plus the connection is always there, even miles upon miles apart.” Junia answered. 
“Why keep it a secret?” Cassian questioned, knowing how much a connection like this would matter to Az, but confused because wouldn’t he want his family to know about him having such a bond?
“I am not exactly without enemies, Cas. I couldn’t have a possibility of someone coming after her because of me.” The sound of raw pain in his voice let his family know that this wasn’t something that was simply a fear. 
Someone had gone after her in revenge.
“Your secret is safe with us. You are safe with us. Should you need anything, just say the word.” Rhysand offered. 
The two carranam looked at each other. “After I spent a while yelling at Azriel for scaring me half to death multiple times in the past few days. We decided that maybe it was best I
 step back from Rosehall.” Junia explained, sadness present in her tone as she talked about leaving the place that had been her sole purpose for her entire life. “I have healers on my staff that deserve the promotion, including Azriel’s mother, who has used her experiences to really become a confidant and friend to so many of our residents.” 
Azriel’s throat bobbed at the mention of just how much his mom had healed and helped since she escaped his father. 
Excitement filled the room at the possibility of adding another to their family. But Junia was still painfully aware of just how many questions everyone had.
“Alright, now that all the nitty gritty is out of the way, you can all begin your interrogation,” she teased.
All at once, tens of questions left everyone’s mouth. Not a single one able to be distinguished over the rest.
Azriel’s hand reached down to hold Junia’s, squeezing her while seeming to say I told you we should have escaped while we could.
They both downed their wine glasses while they waited for the Inner Circle to tire themselves out. 
A/N: Originally, this was the end. But I think I created so much backstory and also fell too much in love with Junia not to add more. So please let me know if you'd like more to this series! (And what you’d like to see)
Taglist: @bunnyred-blog1 @that-one-bibliophole @fuckingsimp4azriel @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minaaminaa8 @lilah-asteria @azrielswhore @maksamillion
(If you are featured here but you didn't get tagged, check your privacy settings to make sure you allow for tags!)
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multi-fandom-imagine · 1 year ago
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« Under The Mistletoe || Mizu ||
A/n: Got enough notes! So I am writing it! I apologize of this sucks
Warnings: Fingering, Tribbing, biting, exhibition, Mizu being possessive as fuck, semi-Public sex, oral
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A party, she was never invited to a party before and Mizu's first reaction was a blank stare, she had to bite her tongue from flat out rejecting the idea but you just have to give her those damn doe eyes.
She could never say no when you batty those pretty little lashes and sent her that cute little pout and with a reluctant and maybe a too harsh fine she agreed to go.
She really had no choice, someone had to keep an eye on you and the bastard's that dared to step foot close to your vicinity.
Closing her eyes she lent back into your embrace, she loved how gentle you were. How soft your touch was, she wanted more. She was tempted to just pull the sheets away from your body just so she could take you again but she knew she couldn't this was important to your parent's, important to you so with a sigh she pushed off the bed letting the sheets fall from her frame.
A small whine tore from your lips as you watched your lover leave. "Come back to bed Mizu! I lied, I don't want to go anymore."
Mizu couldn't help but let out a snort, know matter how tempting you look she wasn't about to break this promise. Letting her eyes rank over your naked frame, she knelt on the edge of the bed as her hand grasped your chin.
"Just a few hours and then we can go. You can show off that pretty new dress of yours."
Still pouting, a sigh escaped your lips as you meet her steely blue gaze. "Fine....but I'm not going to be happy about it." You grumbled.
"I'm not asking you to be." Mizu lent in closer letting her lips brush yours before she pulled away. "Get dressed."
‱
Mizu was starting to regret not staying in that bed with you, especially since you looked so tempting in that red dress so well. The cut was just low enough to show your cleavage off still elegant, it pissed her off by the amount of men that held their gaze where it shouldn't be.
But what really set her off was that bastard trying to kiss you. Mizu recognized the jackass off course, he's been sniffing around you before. Nearly slamming the drink's down on the table she made her way over to you both.
You hadn't meant for this to happen, you were standing under the mistletoe waiting for Mizu to come back hoping to surprise her with a kiss. So why did he of all people have to be the one to approach you? He knew you were taken, his family knew you were taken.
"What do you want Henry."
Your body tensed watching him lean in, his hand grasping your chin. You can practically smell the alcohol on his breath.
"I cannot help your lovely self is all alone, underneath the mistletoe...I came to rectify this issue."
Gritting your teeth you did your best to push down the urge to gag, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. "I am fine! Now please leave me alone."
Narrowing his eyes, the man grabbed your chin forcing you to look at him. "No one say's no to me." He growled out.
"I did....now get your filthy hand's off of me." You stated slapping the man across his cheek though your body shrunk from seeing the anger flash in his eyes you waited for the slap only for it to come, instead the moment you opened your eyes you came to see Mizu's back. One of her hand tightly wrapped around the man's wrist.
"Do you go around assaulting woman? Or just the one's that have no interest in you." Mizu narrowed her eyes. Her grip tightened around his wrist as her other hand pressed her small blade against his groin.Before he had the chance to answer, Mizu bent his wrist backwards as the man yelped. "Come near her again, and I will not hesitate to put you down like the rabid dog you are." She whispered.
The man let out a yelp then cradled his wrist to his chest once Mizu let go as he quickly vanished into the crowd of people.
Nearly squealing, you wrapped your arms around Mizu's neck pulling them down to plant a kiss on her cheek. You felt giddy seeing her defend you, happy. "I do love seeing you get possessive."
Mizu let out a snort though her gaze was still searching for that bastard. Shaking her head she then wove her arm around your waist as she started to tug you off to a random room of the house you were in.
"Where are we going Mizu?"
Giving a quick look around, she pulled you into a random room where she then locked the door. "I'm going to make sure every one of these people know who you belong to."
Letting out an airy laugh, you gave Mizu a teasing grin as you fell back onto the bed. "I do like the sound of that."
"Of course you do, because you're spoiled." Mizu tugged off her hat as she placed it down on the bedside table. "I'm not very sure I should give you what you crave." She crawled onto the bed as she pinned your arms above your head as her other hand slipped under your dress, her fingers slowly pushed aside the cloth covering your core as she let her fingers tease your slit. "I want to hear you sing."
Biting your lip, your hips lift off the bed only for them to be pushed down. "Mizu!" You mewled out her name, a chuckle escaping her lips as she continued to let her fingers dip between the folds of your sex, feeling the wetness that awaited her. She teased and explored, her touch alternating between featherlight strokes and firmer pressure. The sounds of your moans mingled in the air, a symphony of pleasure and need.
"Such a pretty little voice you have." Mizu whispered against your neck as she with drew her fingers from your folds. Her eyes roamed your body she pressed her lips against yours once again.The taste of passion lingering on their tongues. Mizu's kisses were both fervent and tender, a reflection of her desire to both consume and cherish. Her mouth trailed along your jawline, nipping and sucking lightly, relishing in the soft gasps and moans that escaped your lips. Her hands slipped beneath the fabric of your dress tugging it away , the texture of her warm, bare skin sending a jolt of electricity through Mizu's veins. Her touch was electric, her fingers tracing delicate patterns, teasing and caressing every inch of exposed flesh.
Mizu's mouth roamed with a hunger that matched your own, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your neck, collarbone, and chest. Her tongue flicked against sensitive skin, her teeth grazing lightly, drawing forth an intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain.
Her hand now roaming your body, tracing the contours of your curves, her touch both gentle and possessive. Her fingers brushed along the swell of your breasts, feeling the softness beneath her fingertips. She couldn't help but marvel at the sight before her, the way your body responded to her every touch, the way your lips parted in ecstasy. It was a sight that she would never tire of.
With a gradual, deliberate motion, Mizu positioned herself between your legs, her own desire driving her forward. She could feel the slickness of your arousal against her skin, guiding her with an intoxicating scent that filled her senses. Mizu's tongue traced a path along the length of your sex, relishing in the taste of you, your musky sweetness mingling with the sweat that coated your bodies. As Mizu's lips and tongue danced across your most intimate parts, she reveled in the soft moans that escaped from her lover's lips. Each flick of her tongue, each gentle suck, sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Mizu was wholly focused on you, her attentions honed to bring her lover to the brink of ecstasy. "Mizu! Mizu!" Your face turning to press into the pillow as you held back a cry as you felt her tongue glide across your clit.
Pulling back before you could reach your climax, Mizu's blue gaze darkened seeing your body still flushed. A smirk formed on her lips as she tugged away the suit she wore, freeing her hair she hovered about you grabbing your hips letting your heat press against hers. "So beautiful."
Mizu's breath hitched at the sound of your whimpers as her own desire surging through her veins like a wildfire. The sensation of you rubbing against her, the heat and urgency in your movements, sent a jolt of pleasure coursing through Mizu's body. She allowed herself to be consumed by the raw intensity of their connection, her own nails digging into your flesh in response to the overwhelming sensations. "Mmm," Mizu groaned, her voice a mixture of need and longing. Her hips instinctively moved in rhythm with your own, your bodies creating a symphony of pleasure. The friction between you both became more fervent, the heat building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you two. Mizu's lips found their way to your neck, her teeth grazing against the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of marks in her wake. Her tongue flicked out to soothe the sting, before she whispered in a husky voice, "You feel so good, my love. Let go, surrender to the pleasure." She continued to grind against your pussy, your body moving in harmony with Mizu's, driven by an insatiable hunger for one another. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and gasps, the symphony of your shared desire echoing off the walls.
With a firm grip, Mizu then grasped your hips, guiding your movements, your bodies moving in sync, your desires merging into a symphony of need. The friction between you two intensified, your combined heat building to a crescendo that threatened to consume you both. Her heart hammering in her chest as she felt her clit brushing against your own. Lost in the waves of pleasure, Mizu's grip on control began to slip, her movements becoming more desperate, more urgent. She could feel her climax building, a tidal wave of ecstasy threatening to crash over her. With a final surge of passion, Mizu's body arched, her release crashing through her like a tempest, her voice mingling with yours in a chorus of pleasure.
She could feel your release mixed with her own, she did not care of she just made a mess in some strangers bed. As the aftershocks of your pleasure coursed through your bodies, Mizu held you close, your hearts pounding in unison. As you both lay intertwined, your breaths mingling, your bodies basking in the aftermath of your connection.
A soft smile formed on Mizu's lips, she could feel your fingers tracing the scars until you grasped her wrist. Kissing the tattoo you smiled giving her a soft kiss. "Next time I am making you feel good."
Shaking her head, Mizu pulled your naked body close. "I would love that." She stated. "I love you."
Kissing her once last time, you held back a yawn as you did your best to not fall asleep. "I love you too, My Mizu."
‱
Talking to a few of his friends, your father paused for a moment as he spotted Mizu carrying you out of a bedroom. From his spot he could see you were sleeping your body wrapped in a large blanket. The one he started to see has his own daughter did not seem to mind the gaze on you both.
Tapping out his cigar, deep chuckle escaped his lips as you both vanished from view his attention now on the man still cradling his hand. "I see you had a run in with my future son-in law."
While the man may not understand Mizu hid her identity he would not be the one to revel her secret, she was keeping you safe.
"Well it will teach you to harass my daughter...now shall we drink to celebrate a wonderful year."
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bomber-grl · 3 months ago
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Enemies to lovers with Leo Valdez
Pairing(s): Leo Valdez x Gn!Reader
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If anything it probs stemmed from a misunderstanding
Maybe you were cranky the first two times he ever approached you
And perhaps you may have taken it out on him
And maybe just maybe he thought u were those stereotypical condescending people
Basically what ensued from then on was just you two attacking each other verbally each time you ran into each other
But then you’re officially introduced to him by either Percy or Annabeth or anyone else that’s part of the 7 that’s close to you
He’d be especially shocked if it’s Piper or Jason who introduces you two to eachother
Of course that doesn’t automatically solve anything and you’re both total assholes to each other still
Leo is complaining about you and how could any of his friends also be yours?
You feel the same exact way
And unfortunately this is a case of forced proximity as is all my hcs because I’m an uncreative bitch
Maybe it’s just me but I’d imagine constant bickering and making faces would be a bit hard to ignore and go unnoticed
So they all agree to force you two to get along
So you’re on the Argo ll and are forced to clean the stables
(Before the Athena Parthenos is put there obv)
It’s not messy messy but it’s still something
You two both finally agreed to be quiet
But then he gets almost thrown out the window by the ship getting rocked by a monster or something
And so you have to save him by obligation
You two are literally hanging out the window and Leo is yelling like crazy bro
Eventually you bring him back and he thanks you
It was done reluctantly- you make sure he knows that
Plus the situation gives you material to make fun of him for 💀
Then some time after that you’re fighting some daily monsters and he (despite not rlly being a fighter) helps you out by firing some of the weapons on the Argo
This incident spawns this unspoken alliance??
Literally everyone else is made aware of it too and even they’re confused
But honestly at least you’re not constantly at each others throats anymore
Instances where you saved each others asses continued from then on out
It got to the point where you saved eachother so often that you became literal 4lifers
Like genuinely enjoying each other’s company despite the occasional off handed remarks
There was obvious tension that you were both teased for by your individual friends
Even couch Hedge acknowledged it 💀
And youd both deny it
I mean it was the obvious choice
But there had always been tension between you two if you’re being honest
Like if someone asked you if you thought Leo was cute , well let’s not say you’d say he was, just that you really couldn’t deny it
And so your interactions and dynamic continued all the way until the prophecy that started this quest came to an end
And so did you interacting with Leo
He was dead, and despite having liked him, you’d never be able to tell him.
That’s something you had come to accept, and something you realized you’d never get the chance to admit to him
Until you could.
Leo appears back at camp with Calypso in tow
Let’s just say Leo felt ok about her and saved her cuz he’s a good guy and she went along cuz she wanted an escape)
Anyway like everyone else you line up to hit him
Ain’t no way you’re running to him when there’s so many other ppl infront 💀
Gods forbid YOU end up being the one that gets jumped
Even from the good amount of distance you’re away from him you can still very much see his- what can be best as described- upset demeanor
Why he looked that way? You didn’t know and couldn’t tell even if held at gunpoint
Well anyways eventually you end up face to face with him and his expression can’t even be described with just a few words
So ill try anyway
Hes absolutely star struck and, in truth, made breathless from the sight of you alone
I mean with the way Leo looks at you, you’d think he spotted his only true want in this world.
The guy doesn’t say anything at all but then he sorta gains consciousness (?)
He tries to hug you but then hesitates- tries again/ then hesitates
Before he could do anything else you slap the hell out of him 💀
The act is honestly so violate and loud it was genuinely startling
Some would say that you jumped him that day of his return but what did they know??
And then you hugged him
A deep, emotionally charged hug
All the days you had spent mourning him, being tortured by his death that you couldn’t help but feel was avoidable despite the prophecy-
And yet you couldn’t help but melt into the hug
Obviously awkwardness follows after- and for a good while after too
But in the end you two end up together (per advice from emmie and Jo once Apollo casually mentioned the undefined relationship between you two as defense against a remark Leo had made)
And after Apollo is done at the waystation (and you’re not already involved there)Leo will ask if you’d want to stay there together and go to school and be “normal” teens.
The answer is up to you, but we all know what you’re gonna choose
Cmon you’re reading this so you’re obviously down bad 💀
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harleehazbinfics · 9 months ago
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Cannibal Overlord!Reader [Cannibal Chef!Reader Spin-off!]
Cannibal chef! reader m.list | Author profile
a/n: I've seen a few fics about reader owning Alastor's soul, so I'm gonna put my own spin on it in Cannibal Chef. >:]
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"Madam, the table is ready."
"Oh, thank you Alastor!" You groan, leaning against your chair clutching your aching head.
"These demons can't do anything right!" you roared slamming your fist down on the table sending papers flying, which Alastor calmly collected and places back on the table.
He smiles and waits for you to stand. On your own two feet, you latch onto him and whined, "You won't leave me won't you, Alastor? I'd hate for my most important and capable person to leave!"
"I wouldn't dare think of it, Madam," he replies as he covers your hand with his as he guides you to the dinner table, where several plates of food you loved was presented so fancily. You gushed at the food, and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before sitting down and tasting a few pieces of everything.
Alastor recovers from your affectionate gesture and pushes your chair in and drapes a napkin over you to not soil your clothes that he meticulously picked.
This was (Y/n), one of the most powerful overlords who reigned over Pentagram City. She controls quite a number of souls from decades of ruling. They say she manifested in hell, seemingly overnight, toppling overlords who were once held an iron grip over the denizens of hell. Tall tales were spread about your fearsome power and your signature cleaver. After establishing your position, you opened a meat shop and restaurant. Cannibal and non-cannibal options of course. You were crazy, but you had class, okay?
Many are frightened at just the thought of you alone, some sinners say that all demons that crossed you would end up on their plate. To set a clear stance what would happen if they dared question her power.
"Oh, Calastor! Good morning, my love! Did you have a good nap?" you ask picking up the red cat who gave you kitten licks on your face.
However, all Alastor could see was a very cheerful and clumsy woman. He recalls the first time he met you. He was roaming and analyzing where he was and how the power was at play arriving here shortly in hell. Unexpectedly, he got caught in a crossfire between you and large dinosaur like demon. When he saw you transform into your larger demon form, he was mesmerized at such power. You didn't hesitate for a second to go for the kill.
After capturing the dinosaur demon and keeping him in your inventory to make a meal out of later. He failed to dodge the hand that grabbed him and pulled him closer to your face.
"And who might you be?" you asked sultrily with a dissonant voice that overlapped with each other making him gulp at the wonders it was doing for his body to react a certain way towards the sound.
"Alastor, Madam. Pleasure to be meeting you!" he replies with his usual transatlantic tone, keeping composure despite seconds away from being crushed in your hand.
You smile and replied, "You're polite, how cute. You wouldn't mind if I keep you right?"
Without even a chance to reply, you return to your castle where you changed him into a butler uniform and bombarded him with your troubles and how you were so lonely that no one wanted to be friends with you. So, when you saw him ogling you, you couldn't help but keep him to yourself. You couldn't bear the thought of someone else picking him up other than you.
Alastor, in all his years, didn't once try to escape despite his situation. Sure, it was peculiar and sudden, but he never once felt uncomfortable in his setting. On the contrary, he felt very much at home with you, and even accepting your affectionate gestures.
A few pecks on the lips, cheek and neck wasn't disgusting when it was from you. He enjoyed your warm hugs where you'd eventually fall asleep on him and have him take you to your room. Only for you to pout and pull him on the bed with you and sleep with him.
He just couldn't say no to you. After all. He did love you. He was yours, as you were his.
IM TAKING ASKS FOR THIS ONE TOO
🔗Cannibal Chef! Reader TAGLIST:
@bonnie-02, @marxo5, @whaatttlaufey, @froggybich, @rybunnie, @midorichoco, @lucifers-silhouette, @kimmis-stuff, @bontensbabygirl, @janey, @akiqvq, @wonderlandangelsposts, @spoiled-slutt, @roboticsuccubus83, @atlas-rin, @yuriohoe04, @azullynxx, @milk-bulb, @rainynyy, @s2tng, @aria-tempest, @speedycoffeedelight, @0strawberrysorbet0, @amitiel-truth, @corvid007, @kaminarithebest, @enby-goblin
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siriusly-parker · 1 year ago
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—more. [isaac garcia, mlwtwb]
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“Lowly knights and mighty kings, they all want more”
tags. [fluff, angst, bonfire party, childhood best friends to lovers, jealousy, drunken confessions]
author’s note. [thank you for all of the requests!! i got a TON, so i tried to mix a few ideas into one fic, so i could get it out to you guys as fast as possible! ꩜ i siriusly love you <3]
wc. [4k]
—fic under the cut!
‧˚ʚ ⋆ ꜝꜞ
Aside from her predicament with the Walter boys, Y/n did really like Jackie. Who she didn’t get along with where her newfound friendships. Skyler and Grace where gossipers. Y/n knew they just enjoyed being close to the center of it all. Skyler was just annoying, and she didn’t enjoy the way he treated Nathan at all, but she could get past that and tolerate his presence. Grace though
 she was just a bitch. She hated Grace, “Gracie” as she used to call her. They actually used to be good friends, until high school made the girl even more of a newsmonger. The slight whiff of a scandal and she’d come running like a dog, even to the detriment of the people around her. She gets carried away, forgets it’s real people and not a movie. Maybe she gets a high out of the attention she gets from sharing the information she dishonestly collects. People only come to see her to know all about other’s lives. Gracie’s own is incredibly boring, she’s sheltered. So, gossiping is her only way of living some sort of excitement, through others, of course. Y/n pities her, in a way. But she mostly, mostly hates her guts.
At the annual bonfire party, after an insane amount of begging from her best friend, Y/n took a ride with the Walter’s. Cole got them there, but Danny was, as per usual, the designated driver. Y/n didn’t enjoy drinking either, but she didn’t have her permit yet, postponing her lessons every chance she got. She liked driving with the boys, she even had her own designated seat. Being their neighbour meant they’d get her to school too, and that Isaac would practice his own driving on his uncle’s truck with her. He was good, she felt safe.
When they got there, Jackie immediately jumped to Gracie, while Nathan ran to see Skyler, who didn’t truly seem to be as excited. Y/n rolled her eyes so hard, she’d probably get a headache from it. “Careful, you’ll get stuck like that.” Laughed Cole as he closed the door and threw the keys to his twin brother. “I can’t help myself!” She pleads in annoyance as she turns to her best friend for support. When she looks at Isaac, he’s looking over at the fire, not listening to their conversation at all.
He had been mostly quiet the whole ride, which she didn’t necessarily mind. They're used to comfortable silence, understanding each other beyond words. Even before him and Lee went to live with their cousins, they often came to visit. Y/n came to know that truck by heart, always sneakily asking her parents if she could go play with the neighbour boys when she saw it drive past.
Isaac actually had a stutter as a child. He wasn’t always as confident as he seemed now. Ashamed, he often stayed quiet. At first, Lee talked for him most of the time, but as their friendship grew, they learned to communicate without much words early on. The banter came later, when puberty hit and he became popular with the ladies. Sometimes though, when they’re alone, his quiet side shines through. Maybe tonight he just didn’t feel like talking much. That would be fine, but she knew there was something more.
“Hey,” It’s spoken softly. Hearing her voice, he shook himself out of his trance and noticed everyone was gone to exactly where he was looking. He was too bewitched by the fire to notice the people around it. “you’re quiet.” She chuckles. She says it as a fact, as something she noticed, but he knows she means it as a question that needed answering. He rubs the back of his neck, not sure of what to say. “Oh
 uh~ yeah.” A giggle escapes her lips at that. “Recompose yourself, Garcia. You have a reputation to uphold.” He knows she’s teasing, but before he can answer, her hand leaves his forearm and she’s headed towards the party, like everyone else.
People wave at her, Cole screams something, Danny laughs. All he sees is fire. As if she’s walking right into it. She looks beautiful. The lack of her touch is more noticeable now. It feels wrong. He didn’t even notice she was touching him. It’s not unusual per say, but you’d think he would notice. Maybe it wasn’t her voice that drew his attention, maybe it was the familiarity of her touch. She knew that sometimes he was so inside his head that only a gentle squeeze could do the job that words couldn’t. But the fact she kept it, and he allowed it, like it didn’t matter, was what perplexed him. He’d usually be thrilled, but he was too tense to even feel it. Maybe that’s what made him stutter again. She had that effect on him, even though she helped him through it the most. He couldn’t get the idea of her out of his head, but he didn’t know how to tell her.
“Buddy, c’mon.” Danny’s voice pulled him out of his haze. “It’ll just come out naturally when you talk to her, don’t stress about it.” It comes out so casual, as if it was obvious between the two boys. “What are you talking about, dude? I’m just kinda tired. Didn’t even wanna come to this trash party.” He scoffs unconvincingly to his older cousin. “Yeah okay. You were the most excited. You dragged Y/n here, when you know she doesn’t even like parties. Look, if you have something to say to her, just do. It doesn’t have to be special, or a big deal, or even tonight. Now let’s go. She’s all alone in a party she didn’t wanna go to, with people she can’t stand.” Isaac laughs at that, knowing she’s probably poking at Cole’s last nerves or teasing Alex and Lee. He also knew that, sadly, the company of her friends didn’t compensate for breathing the same air as some deeply annoying people. “Well, to be fair, Gracie is a pain in the ass. Girl can’t mind her own business.” Danny pushes his back harder as he holds his shoulders, guiding him towards their friends. “You know she likes you right?” Danny questions, but Isaac just rolls his eyes. “Right, she likes anything that looks in her direction.” The Walter boy nods enthusiastically, as if it was all evident. “Right, yeah. And, you don’t care—obviously- cause you like Y/n, anyway!” Isaac’s head turns sharp at that, but he relaxes at Danny’s unconcerned smirk. He couldn’t get anything past the boy. His feelings were hiding behind a glass window to everyone, but her. Finally giving up the act, he shakes Danny’s hands off him and walks the final few steps towards the crowd on his own. “Shut up
”
When Isaac finally joins the party, he’s immediately swarmed by a raid of girls. Y/n watched from far away, lightly laughing at the absurdity of it all. But, a part of her is jealous. She doesn’t want him to spend time with these girls, he’s supposed to be her best friend. She’s the one supposed to have all of his attention
 and more. Before she can shut down that too recurring thought, she feels someone walk up beside her.
“Isaac Garcia, honorary Walter, and breaker of hearts! Why don’t you join the fan club?” The boy teases in a theatrical manner. She recognized him, Matthew, from the football team. “I didn’t have time to sign up, sadly. But I don’t think there’s any more place to join, now.” She mimicked his dramaturgic expression. “King Garcia has a big heart, thou shall not worry! The more the merrier.” She laughs at that. He’s being ridiculous, but it’s getting a reaction out of her. Matthew did not mind being ridiculed if it meant she would be the one laughing. After the laughter quieted down, she answered honestly. “Not for me, I don’t think so.” But she kept their act going, finding it fun. “I have come to accept this sad reality a long time ago, My Knight! When I was still only a small peasant girl.” He smiles, before dropping the Shakespearean accent. “I am glad.” “You are?” She suspiciously questions. “Of course. That means you can join my club. As the face of it, of course. The Y/n appreciation club.” The play is back on, and so are the theatrics. “Oh, I’d be delighted, My Knight. Not many members I suppose?” “Only me, for now, My Queen. But not by lack of trying from others. It’s just that
” His face drops forward comically, pressing her to ask, “That what, My Kight?” Dramatically, he sighs. “They have to fight to the death to join
 and I’m a very good duelist. Very motivated
 to be the sole member of this club.” “How so?” She truly wonders. “It would mean that I would have your undivided attention, My Queen. That would be a great prize, indeed.” He says, slowly coming back to his true self. Y/n actually didn’t expect that. Most boys don’t give her the time of day, let alone display their affection so clearly. “Oh
” “Oh.” He teases, and she giggles at the realization.
Through the sea of undesirable faces surrounding him, Isaac sees the interaction. Why is she laughing? What could he be saying that’s so incredibly funny? He should be the one making her laugh like that. But, that’s not really fair, though, is it? He didn’t even come up to her since he left the side of the car. She’d be alone if it wasn’t for the footballer. He’s glad she has company, he just wishes it was him instead. Not keeping his eyes off the girl, he distractedly excuses himself from the herd. Slightly pushing people out of his way, he goes directly towards the new pair of friends. Y/n is laughing and twirling her hair. She never twirls her hair. Her dress is pretty. Short. She was wearing a dress? Is it new? He’s never seen it before. Did she wear it for him? For Matthew? Did they talk before tonight? Why is he so pressed about this? Why does he care so badly? Heart beating louder than the music, his hands reach to another random drink. Suddenly, his legs start to walk on their own towards the girl he can’t help but love.
As he comes up behind her, Y/n sees Matthew’s expression change. “Well, time is up, My Lady.” He theatrically bows down to her as Isaac puts his arms around her shoulders. Y/n’s confused at his sudden change of behaviour. “I’ll see you later, Princess.” He winks and walks away while Isaac stands confused. Did he just call her Princess? What a player
 What even was their dynamic? He didn’t actually plan on interrupting anything, but now that he did, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. Lost in thought again, he only notices her expression when she yells out the other boy’s name and moves towards him, making Isaac’s drunken arm drop. Matthew turns around and softly smiles at her. He motions for her to come closer and whispers something in her ear. That secret makes her blush, and Isaac is furious, not knowing what was said. Why did he have that effect on her? As Matthew leaves Y/n with a pat on the head, she sheepishly comes back to where her best friend was standing. The closer she got, the warmer he cheeks felt, and apparently looked. Isaac noticed, but didn’t truly understand he was the source of it.
“So? What did cocky all-American football star Matthew want to do with you?” Isaac says matter-of-factly. His words start to slur. Nothing makes much sense, except the thought that she may be in love with someone else. She takes a step back. He suddenly went from quiet to mean. What happened in that pit of girls? Was he tired of breaking hearts? Was yours the only one left? “He’s not cocky, he’s actually very nice
” She tries to add, but it comes out hushed, shy. The words hurt more than she cared to admit. Her biggest insecurities highlighted by the one she cared for most. “And- I’m sorry if it’s too hard for you to imagine
 that someone could actually like
 me,” It comes out slow, as if she was carefully choosing her words and not only trying not to cry. “but there’s no need to be so rude
” Her last words are barely louder than a whisper. With the ringing in his ear and the loud music, he’s scared he simply imagined it. But her eyes tell him that even if she didn’t say it, that’s how she felt. He was deliberately rude and knowingly mean and he felt absolutely awful.
“Y/n
 you know that’s not what I meant
” “I don’t know that
” She avoids his gaze, kicking the sand beneath her feet. “I just-” “You what?” “He’s a jock! He must have bad intentions!” She scoffs at that. “Or maybe! Just maybe! Someone likes me! Crazy, I know! But not that impossible
” “I don’t doubt that anyone could like you, Y/n. You’re-” When she finally looks at him, demanding an explanation, his mind goes silent. How could he tell her how deeply amazing he truly thought she was? “It’s just that- He’s a football star! They’re dicks!” That’s the excuse he comes up with. “Ok? Cole was a football star?” “And he’s a dick! I love him
 but look at Erin
” She nods sarcastically. “Well, I’m glad you’re concerned, but I won’t follow him around like a puppy, waiting for attention. I’ve done that enough actually
” She mumbles, but he hears. He always hears her. “Y/n
” She dismisses him with a wave. “Go back to your little fan club, Isaac
” As Y/n walks away she blinks back a few tears that were threatening to spill. Isaac watched her sit down by the fire besides Matthew, hugging her knees. He’s making her laugh, and everything gets more real. He was the asshole, and he hated himself for it. Before going to apologize, he just needed another drink.
As he turns his back to the fire, he bumps into Grace, who didn’t seem this shocked. “God! I didn’t see you!” She feigns innocence, as she offers him a new red plastic cup. Isaac takes it without much thought, constantly looking back at where Y/n and Matthew were sitting. He’s too distracted to care about Grace and too buzzed to even understand what she’s saying. He nods at whatever she’s saying before noticing her hand on his shoulder. “Ew, get off, Grace.” The intoxication in his voice is clear, but he’ll never be wasted enough to want her, or anyone other than the girl he couldn’t keep his eyes off of. Gracie doesn’t seem to take a hint, putting her other hand on his free shoulder. By the time Isaac turns back to look at her, Y/n is already on her feet marching towards them. “Oh no
 she’s coming to ruin our fun
” Grace pouts, but Isaac doesn’t hear, too mesmerized by the girl stomping her way to them. “Get off, Grace.” Y/n pushes her off and instinctively checks on Isaac. Taking his drink from him and buttoning his jacket back on, she says, “Ok, it’s time to go, pretty boy.” She softly smiles at him, knowing he doesn’t need a lecture right now. After she puts his hair back into place, she turns to a whining Grace and tells her matter-of-factly, “Also.. Gracie
 eat shit and die.” She scoffs and flips her hair like in the movies. At least, that’s how Isaac sees it. His savior in slow motion, he thinks and laughs. He looks stupid and drunk, and so so so in love with her. It’s time to go home.
“Y/n, that was not nice
” Jackie comes up to her, but Y/n ignores her, fully knowing the point of her words were to be mean. She could be the devil when she wanted. And Grace was always a free pass for being bitchy. The amount of times that Y/n had to defend Isaac as a child, she knew how to take care of the boy. This came naturally to her.
“You do not want to feel the wrath of the neighbor girl, Jackie.” Cole laughs as he pats her shoulders and goes past her towards the car. Danny joins him, keys in hand. “She’s his fiercest defender, don’t try her. She’d burn the world for him, I’m pretty sure.” He warns, mumbling the last part. “Walter family! In the car! Now!” Y/n demands, holding Isaac up. “Yes ma’am!” Cole winks at Jackie, who’s slowly understing the dynamics of the family. “No one is safe if he’s the one in danger. No matter how much you think she loves you, there’s no one on earth she cares more about than him.” He whispers in her ear as he sits down considerably close to her. “She’s crazy mad, guys! Get in the car!” Danny yells for the others to come. Lee and Nathan run up to the car, fully knowing who’s boss.
When they finally get home, Y/n walks right past everyone with Isaac to put him to bed. No one says a word, knowing it’d be better not to test her in times like these.
Isaac starts laughing when they go past his door. “Y/n! Are you crazy?” She shushes him for being too loud. “Are you crazyyy?” He tries again in a loud whisper. “What are you talking about?” She can’t help but laugh a little too. “You can’t come into my roooooooom. Not at this hour! No girls over. Aunt Katherine is gonna be piiiiiiiissed.” “I’m just putting you to bed, Isaac. You’re drunk.” She chuckles, pushing him towards his bed so he can sit down. “Oh
” He’s quite obvious in his disappointment. As she chooses clothes for him to sleep in, she tries to reassure him. “Katherine said I could stay tonight, ok? Because of the party. I’ll sleep on the couch.” His excitement is brought back by that piece of information. “Oh! We can watch a movieeeeee, and-” “No, Isaac. We sleep. You don’t want to be visibly hangover in the morning. Then, Katherine would kill you.” She turns away from his dresser and puts his clothes beside him on the bed. “Here. Your pjs. Put them on, I’ll put mine on, and then we’ll go brush our teeth, ok?” “Ok
” His eyes wander to her dress. It’s pretty. It’s short. He wants to tell her it’s pretty. Instinctively, his hands wander to the hem of the dress. His thumb strokes the fabric, it's nice. There’s a silence between them. Y/n doesn’t actually leave the room, like she had planned. “Pretty
 it’s-“ “Thanks.” She quickly interrupts. In his daze, his hands move from her skirt to her thigh. The touch is soft, feather-like. He’s scared she’ll break otherwise. Y/n holds her breath, but before she can say anything, he lifts his arms up. “Help.” He simply says like a child who can’t undress themselves. It takes a while for her to process his request, but she doesn’t decline.
When she first touches the bottom of his shirt, and her hand accidentally brushes over his skin, she can’t help but feel her heart skip. It’s not as if she had never seen him shirtless before. Countless summers at the Walter household gave her many opportunities to gawk. But this felt different. The two of them, alone in his room. It’s as if, in her anger at Grace, she had forgotten their own fight.
Matthew had abs too, even more, probably. A football star boyfriend would be great, she tried to convince herself. But the thought didn’t persuade her, as it didn’t give her the butterflies that Isaac’s simple smile easily could.
As she lifts his shirt up, she can’t help but think back at what Matthew whispered to her back at the bonfire party. “Go to your King. Do not settle for a lowly knight like me.” She later tried to explain to him she didn’t feel as though he was “lowly”, but he saw through her makeshift walls right to where she hid her feelings for the older Garcia boy. She didn’t know why he acted the way he did that night, so quiet, and then so rude, but she pushed it all away, they’d talk about it tomorrow.
When she finally took off his shirt, she couldn’t help but stare a little. She quickly shook it off and put his old band shirt on. There were a few holes in it, but with his grey hoodie on top, it didn’t really matter. Looking at his neatly folded red checkered pyjama pants, he got up and said, in the same way as before, “Help.” She chuckled, and turned away to leave. “You can do that part on your own, I’m sure.” She could feel his smirk burning at the back of her head.
In the bathroom, she put her own pyjama set on and started her nightly routine. Hearing a knock at the door, she swiftly opened, knowing it must be Isaac coming to brush his teeth.
They brush their teeth together and Isaac sits on top of the counter, waiting for her to finish taking off her makeup and doing all of her skincare. “You’re so pretty
” The sudden break in the comfortable silence shocks her. Of all the things he could’ve said, she didn’t expect this. Seeing she didn’t answer, he kept going. “And smart too. You’re more than your looks of course, but you are very pretty. I know I make fun of you for your thousand steps routine, but I actually do enjoy it. Gives me more time to just look at you
” “Isaac
” She tried to cut in on his rant. “And- And I didn’t mean that
 At the bonfire. I know people like you. How could they not
 I just- i just don’t want you to like them
” He was drunk, he’d regret it in the morning. She feels as though she’s reading someone’s secret diary. He’s drunk and an open book for her to skim through. “Isaac
” She warns again, but he shakes his head. “I guess I was just jealous
 ‘cause you were laughing
 so much with Matthew. What were you even laughing at? He can’t be that funny. I’m funny. I want you to like me
” He groans, hiding his face in his hands. “I do like you
” Y/n tries to reassure him. “Well then
 I want you to love me.” She takes his hand, making him look at her fully. “I love you, Isaac. A lot.” He smiles. “You’re my best friend.” It drops. “No
” That was wrong. That’s not what he wanted. “No?” She questions. “I don’t want you to love me like a best friend
 I want you to love me as
 more.” “More?” “More.” He says it as a pledge. “Will your answer stay the same in the morning?” There’s a smile on her face. She can’t help but dwell on the possibility of what could be. “I promise.” He’s sure of himself. “Ok, then we’ll talk about it when you’re well-rested.” She laughs. “Now get down, sleepyhead. It’s time for bed.” Isaac didn’t argue, knowing full well that in the morning, he’d be telling her the same thing. Over and over again if that’s what she wished to hear.
ꕀ
‎𐩂 hope you enjoyed it!! comment what you think! and please don’t forget to reblog!!! â—ĄÌˆ
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vigilante24ish · 2 months ago
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🌙 Moon Phases 🌙
Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader
Chapter 1. - Chapter 2. - Chapter 3. Chapter 4. - Chapter 5. - Chapter 6. Chapter 7. - Chapter 8. - Chapter 9. Chapter 10. - Chapter 11
Word count: 1310
Chapter 11:
Jen grabbed the boy and brought him to her side, instructing him on how to swirl. You were not sure why, but you speculated she was too anxious to focus on it, and you did not blame her.
For a first trial, this was intense, and you did not wish to think of what would come next.
"Eeryone, pull a strand of hair outta your head now." Jen suddenly instructed, and you all obeyed, with Alice even taking a strand from Sharon's head. "A single hair only. Everybody, hurry up."
You all threw the single piece of hair into the swirling boiling water, except for Agatha. As she was ready to do that, she froze and stared at something that you could not see.
It was her time to face her nightmare.
You were not sure what it was, but the fear crawling on her face was not something that you liked. Her illusion was small, but it was enough to send her to the floor with a loud gasp, eyes wide staring at nothing as tears were fighting to escape.
You glanced at the clock, seeing the time being way less than before and you acted on impulse. You stood behind Agatha and after you muttered an apology, you pulled a piece of her hair.
"Ouch!" She exclaimed and looked at you with a hurt expression, but you figured it was mostly shock from your actions.
"Sorry" you said and tossed the hair into the water.
The other witches tried to ask Agatha what she saw, but she refused to answer, turning the focus back on the potion.
Yet you could not help but steal glances at her; seeing her how hard she was fighting to keep her composure in front of the others.
Whatever she has faced has shaken her to the core, and you knew only one thing could truly do that...
Her son
You never learnt what happened to him, and she always refused to tell you, going as far as to raise her tone when you tried to push the topic.
So, you let it go and simply waited, hoped, for the day she would open up to you. You had met that boy when he was very young, and while you never had the chance to bond with him properly, you were always wondering what happened to him.
For the day it all went downhill, that boy took with him the bigger part of Agatha's heart and light.
"We need to clasp hands..." Jen instructed, your focus on her again. "...and clear your minds. Once our intentions are aligned, it will glow bright cerulean."
Alice glanced around her. "Yeah. What're our intentions again?"
"To not die."
And so you did that, pouring all your intentions of surviving the first trial.
You dared to open one eye and once again was disappointed to find that your effort did not work with the first time.
Why? Because the colour of the potion should be blue, and this was clearly a shade of green.
"I must have forgot something." Jen exclaimed as panic started to rise within her.
Teen dared to glance at the clock. "One minute left."
You felt your heart beating faster and you looked at the worried potions witch. "What did you forget?" You asked, hands placed firmly against the marble surface.
Jen, feeling the weight of the situation, took a step back. "I don't know! I've never made this potion before! I make retinol serums, for Christ's sake!"
"Fifty seconds."
You glanced at the boy. "Shouting the time is not really helping here!" You snapped back, realizing that if Jen suddenly got cold feet; you were all dead.
Surpringly, it was Agatha who took the initiative. She grabbed the witch from her upper arms and stared dead into her dark eyes.
"I have always hated you... but I left you alone because what you were doing was important. Not this Kale Kare crap, the real work. You can be that witch again. They can take your power, Jen, but they can't take your knowledge."
Silence enveloped the room, everyone looking at Jen for the missing ingredient; feeling bout to pass out from the worry and the stress they were all experiencing.
"Blood. We need the blood of the unpoisoned."
It was Alice who gathered the courage and checked the clock. "Thirty seconds."
Agatha did not hesitate to grab a huge kitchen knife. With her free hand, she grabbed the boy's wrist and, with the other, cut a deep enough slash. "Thanks for being underage."
The move shocked everyone, but Agatha paid no mind as she guided the boy's hand over the boiling water, letting the droplets of blood fall in.
A sigh of relief left your lips when it turned blue and you wasted no time dunking your glasses into the water before hastily drinking the antidote; just as you were in the last ten seconds of the countdown.
However, the timer did not stop after you drank the antidote and it took you all a few precious seconds to be reminded that Sharon had not taken it since she laid unconscious on the couch.
By the last second, you managed to empty the cup into her lips, and by the faint movement of her limps; it was evident that she was also alive.
A clicking sound startled you all before it was noticed that the oven door had opened on its own.
You were the first to walk toward it, perhaps the bravest, and you were surprised to see some never-ending slide leading Gods knew where.
"I think this is our exit," you said as the others gathered around you.
"I am not climbing in an oven" Lilia argued. "That happened to a friend of mine, she had a lovely house, and she ended up..."
Her storytelling was cut short as the windows broke, and saltwater started to fill the house at a terrifying pace.
You stared at it with wide eyes as the dark blue waters were coming your way. You were a good swimmer and you always found something nice at the salty smell of a sea breeze but even this was out of your league.
Lilia moved first, now longer hesitating to enter the oven and slide down; followed by Jen.
You waited for Agatha to join y before she could, Teen and Alice reminded you that Sharon was still left behind.
"We don't know what happens if we leave her behind." Alice argued.
You knew she was right, and honestly, Sharon should not die like that; not when it was never her fault for ending up on the Road.
You turned to Agatha. "Go, I will go help them"
Surpringly, your lover did not agree as she once again grabbed your wrist. "No, you go down that oven"
Yet you stubbornly stared her in the eye, not moving an inch. "No, you are, or you are helping me with Mrs. Davis"
Agatha wanted to argue, to grab you by the back of your neck and shove you down that slide. She wished to scold you to for suddenly being both selfless and annoyingly stubborn.
In the end, she gave up.
"Fine!" She spat, and you both joined to help carry the unconscious human towards the oven.
By now, the floors had flooded, and the water was rising fast; making your fear it would block your way to the oven and your only exit if you were late.
Thankfully, you all managed to push her down the slide and followed suit. This time, it was Alice who stayed behind.
She watched you go after Agatha, and as she sat by the edge, she grabbed the oven door and closed it behind her before letting gravity and water pull her down the unknown slide.
Chapter 12
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guess-my-next-obsession · 7 months ago
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Guilty as Sin? — Chapter 6
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pairing: professor!javier peña x f!reader
rating: series is 18+ only, minors DNI, professor/student dynamic, jealousy, brief glimpse of drunk Javi, phone sex but not really, oral (fem!rec), protected piv, dirty talk, little bit of angst thrown in at the beginning, sort of rough!javi? but nothing too crazy
word count: 4.8k
series masterlist
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A month went by, summer fading into early fall and bringing a slight chill to the air with it. Things between you and Javier were only slightly awkward, and only when you were alone together. In class, he treated you like a prized pupil but nothing more. In your TA lab, he spoke to you like a colleague. But to say either of you seemed content with the emotional and physical distance after the night you shared together would be a lie. 
You thought of him incessantly, his lips often becoming the focus of your mid-lecture daydreams. You liked to imagine that he stole glances at you too when you weren’t looking, but his gaze never seemed to linger long. He remained respectful, but there was no denying the lingering tension between the two of you. 
Even so, there was nothing that could be done for the secret longing you felt every time he walked into a room. You’d come to peace with that fact. Mostly. 
It was hard not to think of him as you got ready for a date that was set up by your new friend, the one you’d taken to sitting by in Javier’s lectures, Mayte. She’d been so eager to pull you out of the funk your “situationship” left you in, though you managed to leave out just who that situationship was in. The guy—Kade—she set you up with was a friend of her older brother, who she assured you had good taste in friends. That had yet to be seen. 
He’d invited you to the UT vs Texas A&M football game—not your usual scene but a fun chance to get out of the house. You wore a simple pair of jeans and a new sweater you’d recently bought to help boost your confidence. Casual, but put together at the very least. 
You insisted on arriving separately, wanting a quick escape plan if shit went sour—which it usually did. Meeting him in front of the ticket office of the stadium, you were surprised to find out he was handsome. Tall, with dark brown skin, and even darker eyes. He looked to be in shape underneath his long-sleeved University of Texas t-shirt and joggers. Perhaps maybe too in shape. 
“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile, pulling you in for an awkward side hug. 
“Hey,” you replied, nervously fidgeting as he led you up to the security check in. 
“You’re prettier than the pictures Mayte showed me,” he offered, glancing at you from over his shoulder as he waited for the guard to scan the tickets on his phone. You gave him a forced chuckle. After all, you weren’t sure if that was supposed to be a compliment. 
After making it through security, he led you over to the concessions counter and the long line in front of it. 
“You’re tall,” you observed, hating the way charm seemed to evade you when speaking to men. Except for Javier, that is. 
“Yep,” he chuckled. “So
do you come to games a lot?”
“No,” you playfully scoffed. “Football isn’t really my thing.”
“Oh,” he muttered, turning to face the menu. 
A damn near intolerable silence fell over the two of you for a while, both of you quietly shuffling ahead each time someone moved out of the line. When it was time to order and the cashier asked if it would be together or separate, things got even more awkward as you replied in unison. 
“Together, please.”
“Separate’s fine.”
The conflicting responses had the cashier raising an eyebrow. 
“I’m actually fine, so
go ahead,” you said, gesturing for him to order. He gave you a look of irritation before sighing and walking off without explanation. 
You looked at the cashier for help processing what just happened, but she looked just as confused as she shrugged as asked, “First date?”
“Last date, too,” you chuckled, choosing to find the humor in the situation rather than letting it chip away at you. 
You found the exit of the stadium, shaking your head as you swung the glass door open only to hit—
“Javi,” you breathed. There he was in all his casual glory. A simple t-shirt and jeans that threatened to make you fall to your knees. 
“Hey,” he managed, his voice breathy as he took you in. For the first time in the last month, you actually felt something from him. Longing, perhaps. Regret, more realistically. You were about to comment on his presence at such a big event, Javier not exactly seeming like the type to show up to a college football game, but were cut off by an appearance on his left. 
There, slipping her hand around his arm, was a bright eyed blonde that looked to be in her early thirties. 
“Excuse us,” she said, pushing past you and dragging Javier along with her. You watched with a look of horror as he gave you a lingering glance from over his shoulder before disappearing into the crowd. 
You felt sick—not the kind of sick that makes you want to curl up in a ball and cry. No, actually and truly sick. You forced your feet to carry you out of this godforsaken stadium, the fresh air helping to settle your stomach a bit as vomit threatened to creep its way up your throat. Funny how your heart had such control over your body, taking its frustrations out on your poor stomach. You mentally blacked out between the stadium entrance and arriving at your car, only remembering the fit you threw once you were safely in the confines of it.  
Sure, one could argue that you, yourself, had just been on a date with a very handsome man, and that Javier had every right to date around as well. But that would be a logical way to deal with these feelings of betrayal, and when it came to Javier, logic never won. 
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You attempted to drown out thoughts of how Javier’s date was progressing as the evening faded into night, busying your mind with studying for the bar exam. You stayed up late, sleep evading you no matter how tired your eyes grew. It seemed every time you closed your eyes you saw his face, that look of helplessness in his eyes. 
You wanted to smooth the worry lines on his forehead away with soft kisses, wanted to shove that pretty blonde off of him and claim him as yours. Jealousy, it seemed, had turned you primal. 
As you settled into bed, this time vowing you’d actually manage to go to sleep, your phone started to buzz on your nightstand. You scowled at the bright light, reaching over and accepting the call without thinking. 
“Hello?” you demanded. 
“Hey.” Javier’s voice both soothed and wounded you at the same time. “Shit. I didn’t—I thought I’d get your voicemail.”
“Javi?” you asked, as if you couldn’t pick his voice out in a crowd of a thousand. “What—it’s like
shit. It’s three in the fucking morning. Why are you calling me?”
“I know,” he sighed, his words slurred. “I just
couldn’t stop thinking about you.” 
You scoffed, rolling onto your back to stare at the ceiling. “Figured your date would’ve kept you distracted.”
“There’s that jealousy I love so much,” he crooned, and you could practically see him smirking. “She was a mistake. I just
I don’t fucking know. Needed to try to get you out of my system.”
“And did it work?” you asked, your tone still clipped. “Did fucking her make you forget about me for a while?”
“I didn’t fuck her,” he promised. “Didn’t even make it through the game. Well, actually that’s not true. I caught the end of it at a bar, then proceeded to get piss drunk because I couldn’t stop thinking about this girl you might know. Clever, brilliant, has the prettiest pussy I’ve ever fucking seen—“
Definitely still piss drunk, then. 
“Javi,” you groaned, covering your face with your palm. “You’re being
cruel.”
“No, I’m not,” he argued. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Having to see you day in and day out, not getting to talk to you, not trusting myself alone with you. Now that’s fucking cruel.”
“So what?” you snapped. “You called me up just to tell me how much you want me but can’t have me?”
“I called you up to tell you I don’t give a fuck if I can’t have you,” he said, his voice so deep and warm it made your thighs squeeze together. “I fucking need you, cariño.”
“Yeah?” you asked, hating—and loving—the ease in which he coaxed you back into this mess of a situation. You bit your lip as you slipped your free hand down your stomach to the waistband on your bottoms. “Tell me how bad you need me, Javi.”
He groaned into the line, the sound of his zipper coming undone urging you to slip your hand further into your bottoms, your fingers finding you soaked with need. 
“Fuck,” he groaned. “Need you so bad. That pretty pussy, the taste of you on my tongue.” 
You let out a soft moan at the memory of Javier between your thighs, the scent of him on his bedsheets surrounding you. “Next time, I’m gonna give you my dick. See just how much of it you can take. How’s that sound? Bet you’ll take it all, won’t you, baby?”
“Shit, Javi,” you whined, swirling your fingers around your swollen bud. “Your voice
”
“Yeah? You like touching yourself listening to my voice, cariño?” he husked, a teasing lilt to his voice that made you throb with arousal. “
“Mmhm,” you moaned, slipping two fingers inside of yourself. 
“Good,” he said. “I’m fucking my hand to the sound of yours, too.” 
“Let me come over,” you begged. Your hand didn’t feel good enough, not like his did. “Please?”
“It’s late,” he cautioned.  
“I don’t care.” It was Friday night, after all. There was an entire weekend ahead of you to catch up on sleep. 
“I’m too drunk,” he said, sounding as if he was trying to convince himself rather than you. “Tomorrow night.”
You deflated a bit, slipping your hand out of your bottoms. 
“Doesn’t feel good when you’re not here,” you admitted with a pout. “You not only ruined me for all men but also for myself, apparently.” 
Javier laughed, the sound bringing a smile to your face. “God, I’ve missed you.” 
“I missed you, too,” you whispered, bashful and girlish. The exact kind of tone you used to tease your friends for using with their significant other. Funny how the tables have turned. 
“What were you doing at the game earlier?” he asked, thankfully picking up on the fact that your body had no interest in feeling good unless it was with him. “Didn’t take you for a football fan.”
“I’m not,” you chuckled. “Just had a
date. If you could call it that.”
“A date, huh?” You grinned at the way his tone seemed to shift. “And how did that go?” 
“He told me I looked prettier than I did in my pictures, asked for a separate bill at the concession stand, and then walked off when I told him I didn’t want anything,” you explained. “Pretty tame compared to some of my dating horror stories. Actually, I’m not sure I’ve ever been on a good date in my life. Not even with my ex.”
“How about we fix that tomorrow?” he said, his voice a casual drawl. You bit your lip to try and tame your smile. 
A date with Javier. Not a hookup, not a one-time thing to relieve some tension. A date. 
“I’d like that,” you said. “Where you gonna take me?”
“That’s a good question,” he chuckled. “Anything I should steer clear of?”
You weren’t sure you’d ever been asked that before a date. Typically, if they even bothered to make a plan, it was just going out for food at a restaurant they loved, going to see a game that you had no interest in, or worse, a male-led action film. 
“I’d probably steer clear of places where men congregate in crowds,” you chuckled. “And places that are loud. Besides that, I’m pretty flexible.”
“I hope to find out just how flexible you are, cariño,” he crooned. before chuckling at himself. Drunk Javier certainly was a lot more generous with his flirtation, and you made a mental note to get him drunk again sometime just to hear that filthy mouth run freely. “No men in flocks and no loud rooms, I can work with that.”
After setting a loose plan for tomorrow night—Javier picking you up at six and whisking you off to a surprise location you still had yet to figure out—you ended the call with a shit-eating grin on your face. Sleep evaded you again for an entirely new reason. 
Excitement. 
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Javier arrived at your place with five minutes to spare, his melodic knocks causing you to jolt as you reapplied your favorite lip balm—if tonight went the way you hoped it would, lipstick would only cause a mess. You hurried to the door, swinging it open with a grin. 
“Hey,” he breathed, a boyish smile creeping up on his face as took you in from head to toe. 
You still had no idea what he had planned, but he gave you a few things to work off of: casual clothes, a hoodie in case it got cold, and an overnight bag. 
Your eyes fell to the bouquet of red carnations in his left hand, your brow raising at the gesture you’d only ever seen in movies. “Never had someone give me flowers before.”
“God, I hate your exes,” he sighed, shaking his head as he held the flowers out for you to take. “First of many, I hope.”
Your mouth twisted as your grin bordered the line of full on goofy. You lifted the bouquet up to your nose, breathing in the fresh scent. “This is very sweet of you, Dr. Peña.”
“Oh?” he chuckled. “Back to Dr. Peña now, huh?”
“Mmhm,” you smirked. “Maybe if you impress me tonight I’ll call you professor.” 
“Jesus,” he groaned, invading your space. He settled one hand on your hip, the other cupping your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you like a starved man. You grinned into the kiss, pushing at his chest to coax him away. 
“Bold for a first date,” you noted, relishing in the dimpled, lust drunk smile he gave you. 
“You’re right,” he said, stepping back only to have you pull him in tighter, your lips finding his again. Javier hummed softly into the kiss, his thumb stroking over your cheek. He gave you one last peck, something so soft and tender that there was no confusing it for anything but sheer affection. “We should get on the road, though.”
“The road?” you asked, your brow raised. “You whisking me off somewhere?”
“Mmhm,” he hummed, tugging you tighter to his chest. “Figured we could take a little trip to the lake. Wouldn’t have to worry about anybody seeing us.” 
You weren’t sure why all the sneaking around was so thrilling to you. Surely, it would grow old eventually, but today certainly wasn’t that day. “In that case, I should probably bring my laptop.”
“I’ll just give you an A,” he said, stopping you from walking back into your apartment by giving you another dizzying kiss. 
“You’re not my only professor,” you reminded him with a smirk, relishing in the near-possessive squeeze he gave your hips before letting you go. He waited in the doorway, watching you dart around your tiny space collecting the last of what needed to be packed. “You’re allowed to come inside, you know?”
Javier chuckled, “Good to know.”
“Not like that,” you snorted. “Although
”
“See, that’s exactly why I can’t come in,” he said. “I might just say to hell with our reservation and hole up in here with you all weekend.”
“The walls here are too thin for that,” you joked, stuffing your laptop and notebook into your bag. Slinging your bag over your shoulder, Javier finally came inside to help you with your overnight bag. 
“Come on,” he coaxed, nudging his head toward the door. “Thicker walls await.”
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The ride from Austin to the small lakeside town of Horseshoe Bay was a little over an hour, that time spent in conversation with the university’s most unsocial professor. But he wasn’t that crabby, brooding professor with you. No, Javier was an entirely different man. You’d begun to piece together a more concrete idea of the man you’d become fascinated with almost instantaneously, rounding out his sharp edges with bits of his past. 
He’d told you about his family, or at least what remained of it. He was an only child, his father a rancher in Laredo that he only sees on holidays due to the distance between them. His mother had passed years ago, you learned, right after Javier had graduated from high school. 
You listened intently as he fed you bits of his childhood, painting the scene in bright yellows and an achingly palpable nostalgia. He claimed he was a quiet child, not fully coming into his own until college. 
At this you felt a tug of familiarity. You’d never been popular, not until college rolled around and offered you a fresh start. 
In exchange for his past, you told him about your own—your parents, the world you came from, the sort of girl you were as a child and how she never really left you, even now. He rested his hand on your knee as he listened to you, glancing at you every now and again with that look of sheer interest that made it difficult to remember what you’d been saying. 
It was all so deliciously vulnerable and intimate, the giving of one’s past to a soul who never had the chance to experience it with you. Javier didn’t seem the type to open up unless he felt it absolutely necessary, which only added to the frenzy of butterflies in your stomach. He felt you were necessary, that you were deserving of receiving him in the past, present, and if you’d be so bold to guess, future. 
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By the time you arrived at the hotel he’d booked, it was half past seven. The stars had come out, stealing the spotlight away from the red autumn sunset over the resort. You stood beside him as he checked the two of you into your suite, your stomach flipping with anticipation over what was to come. 
This was no one-night stand or temporary fix to the issue at hand. No, this trip marked the first time you’d sleep in his bed, the first time you’d share dinner with him, the first time you’d get to feel him, the first time that you’d get an unfiltered glimpse at the man you’d fallen for without ever truly knowing. A small part of you trembled because of that fact, that this entire fantasy could come crumbling down overnight, but despite all of your concerns, you simply couldn’t bring yourself to truly consider the possibility. 
Truthfully, if he hadn’t irked you yet—a woman who’s admittedly very easily irked by men—then it wasn’t likely he’d begin to now. Beyond that logic, there was a different part of your psyche—the part that believed in true love despite the scars earned in attempt to attain it—that felt safe in his hands. Perhaps it was the way he’d handled the situation with Derrick, or maybe it was the amount of willpower he displayed the night he asked you to come over. Either way, Javier had firmly established himself as a good man in your eyes. 
A good man that was capable of conjuring the filthiest of fantasies inside your head. 
The tension between you only seemed to tighten as you made your way up to the suite. You walked behind him, admiring the broadness of his shoulders that tapered into a slim waist, his strong hands carrying an overnight bag in each. You had half a mind to shove those bags to the floor so that his hands could hold you instead, but managed to find the patience necessary to make it into the room. 
“The key’s in my front pocket,” he said, turning to face you as you reached your suite. You licked your bottom lip as you reached out to slip the card from his pocket before deciding on something a bit more sinful. Sliding your hand across denim, you bypassed his pocket in favor of palming him through his jeans. Javier raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes falling to your hand as you gave him a squeeze. “That’s not my pocket.”
“Oh, is it not?” you asked, feigning innocence. “I must’ve gotten lost.”
Javier hissed as you stroked him through his jeans, his now hard length straining against the confines of the rigid denim. “If you don’t hurry up and—“
You slid your hand away, slipping the keycard out of his pocket with a smirk. “So impatient.”
“I’m the impatient one?” he asked through a chuckle, opening the door of the suite and guiding you inside. “I’m not the one who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves.”
You stood in front of the massive king-sized mattress you’d be sharing with your professor. Biting your lip, you couldn’t help but imagine the things that might occur later on between you in those crisp white sheets. Javier seemed to follow your train of thought as he came to stand behind you, his fingertips trailing down your arm until he was weaving your hands together. You pressed back into him, exposing more of your neck. Javier leaned in, his lips soft and warm against your pulse as he pressed a featherlight kiss there. 
“I made dinner reservations,” he mumbled, tracing the line of your jaw with the bridge of his aquiline nose. You let out a soft gasp as he nipped at your jaw while bringing your entwined hands between your bodies. He guided your hand to the bulge in his jeans and pressed himself closer, a sinful sigh slipping from his lips. “We should get going.”
He made no move to do such a thing, instead choosing to spin you around and crash his lips into yours. You moaned into it, cupping his face with both hands as he gently laid you on the mattress. He stood up straight and watched you with a drunk look in his eyes as he peeled off his sweater, throwing it across the room. “Had to change anyways.”
You followed his lead, stripping off your top layer in a scramble before moving to do the same with the skirt and tights you’d worn with the hope of taunting him, but he stopped you. Instead, he unbuckled his belt and set it beside you on the bed with a sinful gleam in his eyes.
“Skirt on?” you asked, giving him a smirk. Javier popped the button of his jeans undone and unzipped himself, shucking his jeans down just enough to free himself. 
“Mmhm,” he hummed, stroking himself a couple times before lowering to his knees and tugging you to the edge. 
“And the tights?”
He smirked as he pressed a kiss on the inside of your thigh. “Depends on how much you care about those tights.”
“Not at all,” you purred, combing your fingers through his hair. Javier gave your flesh a tender bite--a signature of his, you were learning. Spreading your thighs wider to accommodate his broad shoulders, Javier ripped the tights in half where your thighs met to expose you to him. 
You’d forgone underwear for this specific reaction--Javi’s dark eyes flaring with desire, that skilled tongue of his swiping across his bottom lip, his hands gripping the meat of your thighs so hard you hoped it would leave a mark. 
“Fuck me,” he groaned, wasting no time as he leaned in and tasted you like it was the first time. Just like before, your mind was sent reeling, trying to comprehend how something--or someone--could possibly make you feel this good. He tasted you with unabashed eagerness, clearly using his free hand to stroke himself as he drank you down. “You wanna come like this, baby? Or do you want my cock?”
You moaned at the question, feeling yourself empty and fluttering around nothing. 
“I want your cock,” you managed, albeit a bit more bashful than his delivery. 
Javier placed a far too sweet kiss on your swollen bud before standing again, the sight of him and his dominance and his tenderness all driving you mad in different ways. You wanted this man, wanted to have him and keep him all to yourself, wanted to know him and be known by him in a way that no one else ever had. If this was to be your end, those strong hands and kind eyes, then at least it would be a happy one. 
He stroked himself with one hand while he walked over to his bag and located a condom. Tearing the foil open with his teeth—a sight you’d never imagined could be so fucking arousing—he returned to you, rolling the condom down his length. 
“You’re so
beautiful, Javi,” you breathed, watching him as he lined himself up at your entrance. He paused there, bending forward to kiss you with such tenderness, such affection that you nearly forgot where you were and what you were doing. He took those few seconds of dazed bliss to press into you, just enough to acclimate you to his size. He swallowed down your gasp, giving you another inch before stilling again. 
When he was finally fully seated inside your warmth, you let your head fall back against the mattress, a choked moan filling the room as he ground himself deep, his lips finding your pebbled nipples. “Fuck, Javi.” 
“Is it good, cariño?” he asked, his voice taking on a rougher edge. 
It wasn’t just good, it was
perfect. The way he felt, the feelings he stirred within you, the look in his eyes when he lifted his head from your chest to watch your eyes roll as he withdrew himself only to press back in. Absolutely, devastatingly perfect.  
“So good,” you moaned instead, holding his face in your hands as he picked up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 
“Shit,” he hissed, dropping his head to watch himself disappear inside of you. 
You balled up your skirt to sit around your waist, determined to let him get the perfect view as your eyes squeezed shut, the sparks of pleasure from each thrust making it hard to see straight. 
“Feelssofuckinggood, baby,” he slurred in a moan, sounding almost as drunk as he did on the phone the night before. “Such a perfect fucking pussy.”
You keened at his praise, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. Javier groaned, pinning your knees toward your chest as he stood upright and began to fuck you without inhibition. All you could do was cry his name and lose yourself in the clouds of euphoria as his hips snapped into yours hard enough to carve his name into them. 
“Fuck,” he hissed, hugging your thighs to his chest and guiding your ankles to rest on his shoulder. “You’re gonna make me come, baby. That what you want? Hm?”
“Fuck, yes,” you whined, feeling the knot in your belly tighten at his voice. 
“You gotta come first,” he panted, licking his thumb before bringing it down to your swollen and throbbing bud. Your walls clamped down on him, earning a growl as he picked up his pace. “C’mon, baby. C’mon.”
“Javi, shit—“ Your vision went white before you could even get the words out, your walls fluttering around his cock as you came harder than you ever had before. Javier let out a strangled moan, leaning down to kiss your lips as he sought his own release. “Good fucking girl.”
You clung to him for dear life, fearing that if you let go, you’d float off into oblivion and never return. Javier hissed, soft moans filling the room along with the sharp slap of skin as he pumped himself into you once, twice, three times before pressing himself as deep as he could go. He laid his head on your chest as he came, whispering filth in Spanish that had you ready for another round.  
“Fuck,” you sighed, content and satiated for now. A laugh slipped past your lips before you could contain it, causing Javier to lift his head off your chest, a lazy, and yet almost smug, smile on his face. 
“What?” he chuckled. 
“We’re fucked,” you said, laughing again, this time joined by Javier. 
“Completely and utterly fucked,” he agreed. 
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309 notes · View notes
mrm0rgansw0man · 7 months ago
Note
hi !! can i have a more angsty arthur fic of the reader admiring him from afar and wanting to give him all the love he’s deserving of but feels she doesn’t have the chance to ? :)))) happy ending would be nice maybe arthur reads a note of hers !
god i love writing angst. LETS DO THISSS
hope you enjoy!! Xx @risingtripletaurus
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I can let you down, I can make you Hurt.
Bitter, freezing cold. That was all you felt. Just the cold and the ache in your heart. Your whole chest ached, from the cold or from the emotions you were feeling you didn't know.
This whole Blackwater fucked up mess was just what you needed. You had already been struggling, being new to the gang and trying to help out and earn your keep. And, not only that, but Arthur Morgan hated you. You were sure of it, you had no clue what you did to offend him but just until right before this mess he started pulling away from you.
He was always friendlier with all the women of the camp, but you and him had taken a liking to each other. But one day, it just stopped. The hellos. The cups of coffee he'd bring you every morning. The shared cigarettes. The random talks, it was so nice. You'd be lying if you said you hadn't fallen for him. You though he could be falling for you too, but looks like you were wrong. You knew it was too good to be true.
"You're so down." Charles said simply. You looked up at him, not even having noticed he came into the cabin you had been sitting in.
"I can practically feel it in the air around you." He continued. Your eyes flit away from him and back to the floor. You watched a few snowflakes melt into your boots.
"Why do you care?" You asked quietly. "I'm sure you've got much better things to worry about than my problems."
Charles shrugged. "Just wanted you to know I'm here if you want to talk. I'm not doing much lately, cause of this hand. So I've noticed more."
Tears welled in your eyes. You blinked them away before you thought Charles could notice. But he still did.
"I've never seen you like this before. I'm worried about you, (Name)." Charles said. His voice more stern now. "Ask anyone, it feels like and looks like, no offense, that the life has been drained out of you."
"It's jus' the cold..." You mumbled. "I'm fine Charles.."
"You know, I was sitting in this cabin with you for hours. You didn't move once. You didn't even know I was here, did you? And Abigail came in to try and talk to you, but it was like you were in a whole different world."
Uh oh. Fuck. He's got you there. You didn't even know Charles had come in, let alone Abigail.
"Have you ever had to love someone from a distance Charles?" You asked weakly. You finally lifted your head enough to meet his eyes.
"No." Charles said with a sigh. "But I can't imagine it's a great feeling."
"It's not." You said with a sniffle. "Not at all."
"Can I ask who it is?" Charles asked you cautiously.
You let out a choked cry. You took a few deep shaky breaths, trying to keep yourself together. It was getting harder and harder by the second. God dammit Charles why do you have to care?
"Arthur." You whispered, wiping away the few tears that managed to escape your eyes. "It's Arthur."
Charles didn't say anything, he only nodded. So you kept talking.
"He was so kind to me when I first started riding with you. We got on real well too." You said, finally starting to weep. Who cares anyways? "I started falling for him. Quick and hard, and could you blame me?"
"No, I was convinced he was sweet on you." Charles admitted. Though all it did was send more tears floding out of your eyes.
"He'd bring me coffee in the mornings. We'd talk. He always said Hi to me at the very least when we crossed paths." You said softly. "And he made sure I was eatin'- I mean you know how I was when I first got here."
"Always sick and thin as paper." Charles said grimly, having been on of the few people that helped take care of you during that hard time.
"Neither of us sleep very well, he'd come find me or I'd go find him. We had such nice talks on those nights, he opened up to me. Like really, really opened up to me. And I opened up to him too." You continued, your cries becoming harder and your voice rising.
"I don't know what I did!" You cried. "But one day it all just stopped! He wouldn't talk to me, he hasn't even looked me in the eyes Charles! I don't know what's wrong with me! I just want to love him!"
"Oh (Name)..." Charles started, but you cut him off.
"He deserves so much Charles!" You sobbed. "He is such a good man, no matter what he says when he looks in the mirror! I just want to love him, he doesn't even need to love me back! Do you know how pathetic that is? How disgustingly pathetic I am to love him like this!?"
You inhaled and exhaled at a frantic pace, running your hands over your tear soaked face. It was too much. You couldn't breathe. You wrapped your arms around yout face and buried yourself in your knees. Charles rushed to your side, kneeling down next to you. He placed both his hands on your shoulders and just stayed there, giving you something to hang onto. Keeping you grounded.
You finally lifted your head and met Charles's eyes, only to find them already locked on you.
"I just want to love him. T-that is all I w-want." You managed to get out between sobs. "And now I've lost m-my chance! I can't keep going like this Charles! He's- he's been through so much. That poor man has suffered and s-suffered and I just want t-to make him feel like he deserves something!"
"Arthur-"
"Needs me! And I need him to need me because look how badly I need him! If he doesn't love me the-then what am I supposed to do?!"
You broke apart, sobbing harder than you were before. Probably harder than you have ever cried in your life. Charles caught you, and he wrapped his arms around you. He let you sob and scream into his chest until you couldn't breathe.
"I just want a chance I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!" Was all you could say, over and over again. Charles rocked you back and fourth, letting you cry yourself out. It took at least an hour, but eventually your cries had lulled to a stop.
Once your breath had returned to normal, Charles spoke.
"I'm going to go get Miss Roberts and Miss Gaskill. They'll take care of you. I'm going to talk to Arthur, don't you worry about this for another second." Charles said soothingly. It was all you could do to nod a yes at him. He pulled away from you, but right as he was about to reach the door you called out for him.
"Why are you being so kind to me?" You asked horsely. Charles looked back at you and gave you a small smile.
"First of all, I like you. Quite a bit, your a good person (Name)." He said simply. "And secondly, you haven't moved from that spot for over a day and you haven't even noticed. Someone needed to do something."
And with that, he left. You sat in silence until Abigail and Mary-Beth showed up. They tried to talk with you but you didn't have the strength to even reply to them. They accepted this, and helped you to your room and laid you down in your cot.
You laid there for what felt like hours, completely lost in thought.
"Glad to see your feelin' better, Miss." Arthur said, handing you a tin cup filled with scalding hot coffee. You took it gratefully.
"Thank you, Mr. Morgan." You said with a smile. "I've got to say I'm liking your company more and more each morning you visit me."
"Oh don't be too flattered, your jus' the only one up as early as me." Arthur said with a smirk, playfully elbowing you in the side. You chucked and hoped Arthur didn't see the blush spreading across your face.
"Well a girl can dream!" You said, that same flirty smirk crossing your face.
"Arthur! I need to talk to you!" Dutch called.
Arthur groaned in annoyance. He turned to leave, but at the last moment he turned back. He grabbed your hand and squeezed it.
"Meet me at the campfire tonight. We never get t' talk without gettin' bothered." Arthur said. You nodded your head happily as he turned to leave, running of to do whatever the hell Dutch wanted him for.
You felt yourself smiling at the memory, even if it was just a weak one.
That night at the campfire was the first of many, you two met every night you could. And that was when you truly began to fall for Arthur, those nights by the burnt out campfire. The last night it happened, you told him about your life before joining the gang, and why you were so sick when you first arrived.
"No one in my family was right." You said with a deep sigh. "My daddy hung himself in our living room right before my mama had me. And since then she just never had any happy in her head."
"Jesus.." Arthur mumbled. "Was your Mama good t'you, at least?"
"Pfft, no!" You said with a laugh. You took another swig of whiskey from the bottle Arthur stole from Pearson for you. "Beat me halfway to hell every other day. I think she had some disease. Think I might have it too, honest to god."
"D'ya really think that?" Arthur asked, taking a swig of his own whiskey bottle.
"I jus' get so low sometimes.. Not enough happy in my own head." You said sadly. "Not something I can really help, but it happens. Part of the reason I was so sick when I first got here, that and being out in the elements."
"What a woman you are, Miss. (Name)!" Arthur said with a laugh. "Survivin' yer' Mama, survivin' runnin' away into the wild, and survivn' yourself!"
Arthur and you spent a lot of time talking about your past life that night, so much time you had finished that whole bottle of whiskey. Bittersweet tears filled your eyes as you remembered what happened next.
You stood up from the ground, and wobbled your way over Arthur and poked him in the chest.
"Tell me, Mr. Morgan!" You slurred. "What have you survivedddd?"
"Oh sweetheart, we ain't got time for that tonight." He said, shaking his head at your drunken boldness.
"Pleaseeee Arthurr??" You whined, a wrong step sending you tumbling down into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you instinctively, and you smiled happily. It was a giddy childlike smile that Arthur would never forget.
Arthur had no idea what possessed him to do so, but he gulped down the last of his whiskey and started talking.
"My mama died when I was real young..." Arthur said, his voice going quiet. "My daddy was a thief, a petty one at that.. Wasn't even a real father. He wasn't good t'me at all. The lawmen got him when I was jus' eleven."
" 'M so sorry Arthur..." You said, wrapping your arms around him and hugging him tight. He rested his chin on your head and returned the hug, god it was so nice to be held like this. To be able to feel freely.
Arthur had no clue why he was so drawn to you from the very start, but ever since he first laid his eyes on you he couldn't get enough. He knew he was a goner, but he'd be lying if he said the thought didn't terrify him. Hell, sitting here like this with you terrified him! But even with the fear in the back of his mind, he could feel the whiskey clouding his thoughts and what little remained of the walls he so constantly put up crumbling.
Arthur went on about his family for a bit, and then told you all about getting taken on by Dutch and Hosea. He told you about what a deliquent he was, told you about when they brought John in. And Miss. Tilly. Then he told you all about a girl named Mary Linton, and about the love they used to share. You listened intently to every word, even in your drunken state. You prayed to whatever god above that you remembered this all tomorrow.
"I had a boy once." Arthur said, after a long stretch of silence. "His name was Issac. He passed on, though."
"Oh Arthur." You whispered, finding his hand and holding it tight. "I'm so sorry!"
"Some bastards killed him 'nd his Mama. Eliza." Arthur said, his voice breaking. "Shot 'em. All for a measly ten dollars."
"What is wrong with this world.." You murmred. Arthur just shook his head.
"I wasn't there f'him much. I shoulda been a better father to my little boy..." Arthur mumbled, his words starting to slur. "I was good to them when I was 'round, but that doesn't make up for nothin'. I'm a horrible person, (Name)."
You sat up, moving your legs around Arthur so you were straddling him. You grabbed his face in your hands, forcing him to look you in the eyes.
"Did you love his Mama? Did you treat her well?" You asked fiercely.
Arthur nodded his head frantically. The change in you startled him.
"Did you play with your boy? Did you hold him? Did you tell him stories, or sing him to sleep?" You pressed on, even with the tears forming in Arthur's eyes.
"Y-Yes!" Arthur said, stumbling over his words. "He was small, but he still liked to run. He liked being held-"
Arthur stopped, a strangled cry escaping his throat. You took your hands off of Arthur's face and wrapped both of your arms around his neck. He wrapped his arms back around you, burying his face in your hair and neck. Arthur thought that he should want to leave, but he realized he'd rather be buried alive then leave your arms right now.
"His favorite was 'Hush Little Baby'" Arthur said softly, you could feel the tears falling from his eyes now. "I was so happy to sing it to him the last time I...."
You sat up- which scared the wits out of Abigail and Mary-Beth-and covered your eyes. Trying to block out the image of what came soon after that.
The comfort you brought Arthur. The way he held your face in his hands. The kiss, so passionate. You both tasted of lust, whiskey, and pain. It was a fiery mix of emotions that sent you both stumbling into his cot and ripping off each other's clothes.
And then he wanted nothing to do with you.
"Honey? What's wrong?!" Abigail said, she wrapped her arm around you and Mary-Beth took your hands off of your face and held them.
Charles had given them a brief explanation of what had happened, but they were anxious for him to get back. They wanted to know what Arthur had to do with you being in an absolute state. They sent each other worried glances.
"When will Charles be back?" You asked with a sniffle. You leaned into Abigail and held Mary-Beth's hands tighter.
"Shouldn't be much longer, I promise honey." Abigail said.
"Want to tell us what's wrong?" Mary-Beth asked softly, she was testing the waters.
You looked between your two friends, and smiled weakly. God, you loved them so much.
"Okay."
»»———-  ———-««
"Arthur? Are you here?" Charles called out before going right into Arthur's room.
Charles found Arthur sitting on the edge of his cot. He was reading a letter.
"What is it, Charles?" Arthur said, still not looking up from the paper in his hands. Arthur didn't even seem like he was listening to Charles.
"Put that down. I need to talk to you." Charles said, his voice becoming more serious.
Arthur re-read the words written on the paper one last time before looking up at Charles.
'Arthur, please tell me whatever I did. I just want to talk to you again. Please, just talk to me whenever you read this. Your true friend, (Name)'
"You know, (Name) isn't doing good. She's been sitting in the corner of her room, curled up. Not moving, not talking. Nothing." Charles said simply.
Arthur's eyes widened, but he didn't say anything. Charles continued.
"I sat there with her for hours, and she didn't move a muscle. I watched Abigail come in and try and talk to her, but it was like she was talking to a wall." Charles said. "And that was after Molly had tried to talk to her for hours the night before. She's the one who came and got me."
"Is..is she alright?" Arthur asked, his nerves evident in his voice. He knew this was his fault. He could feel it in his bones. Oh god, he was a fucking idiot,
"No! She's not alright!" Charles snapped. "She barely even looks human! When I finally got through to her all she could do was cry! And she was crying about you!"
"No.." Arthur said softly. "Where is she now? I need to go see her-"
"You can go see her when we're done here." Charles said sternly. "Arthur, did you know she was in love with you?"
Arthur ran a hand over his face. Oh great, now he'd really done it.
'I'm such a piece of shit..' Arthur thought to himself. 'God.. Oh my god..'
"No." Arthur said. "I jus' thought... I don't know what I thought! I jus' didn't think she loved me."
"I just want to love him. He doesn't even need to love me back." Charles said with a sigh. "That's what she said to me, while she was sobbing so hard she couldn't breathe. And then 'I just want a chance! I want to know what I did wrong!'"
"I get yer' point!" Arthur shouted. "Jesus christ..."
"She's broken. Between having to be here, the whole mess in Blackwater and you completely disregarding her, she is broken." Charles said.
"I KNOW GOD DAMMIT I GET IT!" Arthur shouted, standing up from his cot. Charles stood firm, crossing his arms over his chest. He had said his part, now it was Arthur's turn to speak.
"Does.. Does she really love me?" Arthur asked weakly, taking off his hat and running his hands through his hair. Charles nodded. " I thought she was just' sweet on me a little bit, I thought I was jus' sweet on her.."
"Do you feel different now?" Charles asked. When he joined this gang, he never expected this would be the role he took on. Oh well.
Arthur stilled for a moment. He knew how he felt about you. But how could he even say it out loud, knowing how love had turned out for him in the past?
Mary had to leave him. Her father hated him because of his life as an outlaw.
His love for Eliza and his child only got them shot.
How could he condemn you, someone who has suffered and suffered, to a life with him? He wanted nothing more than to make you feel loved, protected, and cared for. He wanted to hold you like he did that night, to keep you close. To kiss away all your pain and never let you feel like you don't deserve it. Because you deserved the world, Arthur just didn't think he could give it to you.
And he was scared. He was so scared, so instead of being a decent fucking human he ran. And now look at what he did to you. Sent you right back to that dark part of your mind where you never wanted to be stuck in again.
"Yes." Arthur said finally. "But, how could I even try anythin' with her? I don't want nothin' happening to her cause of me! She deserves so much more than I can give her!"
"Arthur, I don't think you understand." Charles said with a deep sigh. "She doesn't want more! She isn't expecting anything of you! All she wants is. you."
"Why does this matter to you anyways! Who are you, t'come in here and talk t'me about this!" Arthur spat. "You have no right-"
"Yes I do!" Charles said, his voice rising. "I took care of (Name) when she first joined us, so I'll continue to take care of her now! She can't function! She needs you, Arthur! And I have a feeling you need her too."
Arthur stood there, glaring at Charles. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to scream foul things at him, for getting into his head like that. But he also wanted to thank him. For being there for you while he failed miserably.
"Figure it out. And then you go see her." Charles said coolly. "Don't go see her like this, she's not strong enough."
Charles left, Arthur's cold stare practically ushering them out the door. Arthur stood there for a few more moments, not really knowing what to do with himself. Charles had sent his mind reeling.
He knows what he wants to do. He wants to go to you, hold you, kiss you, tell you how sorry he is. Tell you that he loved you so much but he got scared, and instead of facing it like a man he ran like a boy. He never wanted to hurt you, but look how bad you were hurting now!
You loved him. And he loved you, but Arthur ran away and now would you ever be able to forgive him? He hadn't even told you he loved you! Arthur was sure he had already ruined everything. Not to mention the two of you slept together, which Arthur didn't even know if you knew it happned or not you were both so god damn drunk!
Arthur sat down and sighed. He took out the letter you left for him to find. He read it again, only this time he stopped over a certain line.
"Just talk to me."
It echoed in his mind. Arthur could practically hear your voice, begging him to talk to you. And he knew what he had to do. Arthur folded the letter up and placed it neatly in his pocket, before placing his hat back on his head. He made a beeline for the hut you were staying in with Molly.
»»———-  ———-««
You had just finished telling your sob story to Abigail and Mary-Beth when Charles returned, not even giving them a moment to react.
You didn't even look up at him when he came back, feeling so weak having to relive what happened with Arthur yet again.
"He's coming. I don't know when, he needed to collect himself. But he'll be here to see you, (Name)." Charles said softly. You nodded, reminding yourself to go and thank him properly when you were better.
"Miss Roberts, Miss Gaskill, please stay with her until Arthur gets here." Charles asked them. Of course they agreed. And then Charles left, god he needed a drink.
Abigail and Mary-Beth stay there with you, wrapped up in blankets in your cot. It was a comforting couple of minutes of silence before Arthur practically broke the door down and rushed into your room. Abigial and Mary-Beth said some hurried goodbyes to you before rushing out of the room.
You knew Arthur was there, but you couldn't look at him. You continued to lay down on your cot, wrapped up in blankets and facing the wall.
Arthur looked at you for a few moments, before taking a deep breath and starting to speak.
"(Name)" Arthur said softly. "Can I uh.. May I sit with you?"
You rolled over slowly, and forced yourself to meet Arthur's eyes. They looked just as broken as yours did when you looked in the mirror. You nodded yes weakly, and Arthur sat down on your cot next to you. He placed a hand on your shoulder, and you closed your eyes. Arthur saw the tears flowing from them.
"I'm so sorry honey." Arthur said with a shaky sigh. "I should never have pushed you away like that."
"You fucked me." You spat, opening your eyes to look at him. "You fucked me! And then you wouldn't even look me in the eyes!"
"You know!?" Arthur gasped, completely shocked. He didn't think you were sober enough to remember what happened that night.
"I OPENED UP TO YOU ARTHUR!" You yelled, finding the strength in your anger to sit up in your bed. "I GOT CLOSE TO YOU- I LET YOU IN! YOU KNOW THINGS ABOUT ME KNOW ONE ELSE DOES!"
Before you even knew what you were doing, you got up and started pounding your fists against Arthur's back. He was caught off guard, so you got a couple solid punches in before he turned around and grabbed you by the wrists.
"You FUCKED ME! AND THEN YOU THREW ME TO THE SIDE LIKE SOME WHORE! YOU MADE ME LOVE YOU! AND ALL FOR WHAT!? ALL FOR WHAT ARTHUR MORGAN!? IS THAT ALL YOU WANTED FROM ME FROM THE START!?" You cried, not knowing when the shouting stopped and your tears began.
You fought to get your wrists out of Arthur's grasp. But he wouldn't let you go. In fact he held on to you tighter, pulling you firm against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you tight and without even knowing what he was doing started peppering your head with kisses.
You punched, you sobbed, you screamed, you fought like a bat outta hell trying to get out of his grasp. But Arthur wouldn't let you go. He took every hit, every foul name and every insult.
Eventually, your thrashing stopped. Your sobs turned into small shaky breathes, and instead of punching him your arms were wrapped around his neck and you crawled into his lap. Arthur started rocking you back and fourth, and was whispering comforting things in your ear.
"I didn't know you remembered.." Arthur said softly. "Honey.. I thought I took advantage of you. I didn't think you'd wanna sleep with me if you were sober."
Arthur felt you softly shaking your head, but you didn't speak. So Arthur kept talking.
"I never woulda' acted how I did if I had known you remembered that night." Arthur whispered. "And, I can't lie to ya' honey. I was afraid. I didn't feel worthy of somthin' like what we had going on. I wasn't thinkin' right- actually I don't think I was thinkin' at all."
"Do you love me?" You asked, your voice a broken whisper. "Arthur I have loved you from the first moment I saw you. You know just as well as I do that there is some type of connection between us that we didn't even spark ourselves. Everyone saw it happen before their very eyes."
Arthur looked down at you, and you were looking up at him already. You looked like a scared little girl, and it broke Arthur's heart. How could he have done this to you?
Arthur swallowed thickly. It was now or never. He was afraid, but his fear meant nothing. Nothing mattered when it came to you. Arthur couldn't bare to lose you, especially not like this.
"Yes." Arthur breathed out, a small chuckle leaving him. "God, I love you so much. Please forgive me f'being such a goddamn moron-"
Before Arthur could continue, you grabbed Arthur by his coat collar and pulled him down into a passionate kiss. Arthur moved his hands to cup your face, using his thumbs to wipe the tears that fell from your closed eyes.
You kissed until the both of you needed to pull away for air, and then Arthur kissed you again. He never thought he'd be able to feel your soft and loving lips against his own ever again, so he made sure to savor every moment.
Once you had both caught your breath, Arthur sat there. He held your face in his hands. The love in his eyes sent a blush to your cold and tear stained face.
"I love you (Name) (Last-name)." Arthur said, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "S'much. More than you'll ever know. More than I'll ever be able to show ya' sweetheart."
You let out an airy laugh, and for the first time in a long time you felt like you could breathe. Your chest wasn't heavy anymore and it felt like your heart was actually beating.
"But I sure as hell will try. Like you said, there is somethin' between us that's not even we could control." Arthur said softly. The smile on his face sent butterflies to your stomach. " 'M so sorry I made you feel so horrible. I'll do everythin' I can to make this right. To make us right, honey."
"It's okay.." You whispered. "It's not entirely your fault, y'know I'm sick anyway-"
"Which is another reason why I shoulda' been smarter!" Arthur said, his voice soft still but also firm. He pulled you into another hug. "I need to keep the happy inside your head."
"You remember that?" You gasped. You were deeply touched that he had remembered something so small.
"I'd have to be dead to forget any of the talks I've had with you sweetheart." Arthur said, his tone nothing but truthful. You smiled into his chest, his words made you feel like you were floating on a cloud.
You both sat there in a comfortable silence, Arthur gently rubbing your back and rocking you back and fourth. You had your eyes closed, listening to the steady beat of his heart. Arthur noticed a shift in your breathing, and he knew you had fallen asleep.
As quietly and comfortably as he could, Arthur shifted so that you were both laying down again. Arthur wrapped you up in a blanket and let out a content sigh. This felt so right. So perfect. He was still scared, but he couldn't let it keep him from you. It was better to be afraid with you, so you could learn and grow together, instead of pushing himself away and hurting the both of you.
"I'm gonna give you the world, my sweet girl. Jus' you wait and see.." Arthur whispered. He planted a kiss on the top of your head, before drifting off himself.
»»———-  ———-««
a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! ive literally spent all my free time on it the past few days lol i got wayyy to invested into this, but are we suprised at this point??? Xx
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padfootagain · 8 months ago
Text
Only an Almost (IX)
Chapter 9: Testing Feelings
Hello!! Here is another chapter! Will Sam’s plan work???
Hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!!
*************************************
Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader, friends with benefits AU
Warning: No explicit smut or nsfw content, but there are sexual themes and heavy make-out sessions (it’s a friends with benefits AU, I can’t really escape it), so 18+ only!
Summary: Andrew has been in love with you for years, and yet he has never confessed his feelings. But a night out celebrating the engagement of his best friend changes everything. However, you don't seem ready to be with him just yet. You make him an offer that he can't refuse... but will certainly regret.
Word Count : 2163
Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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On paper, Sam’s plan sounded both brilliant and simple.
This night out with your friends did sound, indeed, like the perfect place to make you jealous.
Andrew had spent most of the evening with his friends, including you. You looked ethereal tonight, he wasn’t sure how you did this, how you could always make his heart skip beats by the mere sight of you. Perhaps, if he knew how, he would ask you to stop.
The group was now splitting into tinier cells, some levitating around a game of pool, others chilling by the bar, while some where still lost in conversation by the table around which you had gathered at first. You were off to get another drink. Sam leaned closer to Andrew, the two of them having remained sitting in the booth.
“The brunette over there is staring at you.”
Andrew frowned, before turning around to take a look, trying to spot the person his friend was talking about. It was easy to notice her, indeed. When Andrew locked eyes with hers, she didn’t look away, only threw him a flirtatious smile. He was the one to turn back to his friend with a blush.
“Sam
 I don’t know if I should
”
“Ha! No! Don’t back down, now! We’ve talked about this, and this is the best plan we have. So, get out there, flirt with her, and see what happens with Y/N. This woman is perfect! She’s beautiful, and very clearly interested in you. So, don’t make her wait.”
But Andrew made the ice-cube of his whiskey twirl, and didn’t stand up.
“What are you thinking about?” asked Sam, who knew his friend a little too well.
Andrew swallowed back the lump in his throat, before answering in a whisper, still staring at the brown liquid in his hand.
“What if she doesn’t care? What if she doesn’t give two shites about me flirting with another woman? Do I really want to know the answer to that question?”
Sam rested a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, squeezed for a few seconds.
“No, you don’t,” he answered earnestly, making Andrew look up again. “But you need to. You need to, Andy. Trust me.”
Andrew finally nodded, emptied his drink, and finally got up. He gave the woman a timid smile as he approached her. She was sitting at the bar, alone. She was pretty. In another life, he could have fallen for someone like her. But in this one, you were filling all of his heart already.
“Hi,” he spoke quietly, his voice deep and warm although a little hesitant. “Sorry to bother you, and feel free to say no if you don’t feel like it but
 can I buy a drink, by any chance?”
She raised a playful eyebrow.
“I don’t even know your name,” she fought back, and he liked the way she smiled with mischief all over her features.
“Andrew. The name’s Andrew. And you are?”
“Marissa.”
“Lovely name.”
“Yours is pretty basic, but it’ll do.”
He couldn’t help but genuinely laugh at that.
“Hey, it gets the job done. You say it, and I come running.”
“And why did you come to me? I wasn’t calling your name.”
“Hmm
 no, you weren’t. But according to my friend over there, you’ve been staring. Which is highly impolite. So, I thought I should buy a drink.”
“If I was impolite, shouldn’t I be the one buying you a drink?”
“You can buy round two and three, so we’re even.”
She laughed, and the sound was lovely. All Andrew noticed was that you were bringing drinks back to the table. You frowned, looked around. And then you saw him, and frowned some more, as if you had been searching for him, but were surprised to find him there, with someone else.
As he focused on Marissa again, Andrew could think of nothing but you.
“Well, you should buy me that drink, then, so I can quickly repay my debt,” Marissa answered, and Andrew ordered another whiskey.
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You were looking at him and Marissa, Andrew wondered if his plan was working.
Daphne and Sam and the rest of the gang were somewhere else, lost in the dim lights and crowds of the busy pub. He was discreetly looking at you over there, standing near the table where some of your friends were gathered. Others were playing pool, some were simply scattered around the place. But everyone was lost in conversation
 except for you. You were standing there, staring at him, with an unreadable expression on your face.
Did it hurt, to see him flirt with another woman?
Marissa rested her hand on his forearm. He didn’t feel anything at the touch, but he let her anyway. He even leaned a little closer, for good measure, staring at her dark eyes again. She was beautiful. You were all he could think about

“When is this wedding then?” she asked, the tone one of conversation, but there was something syrupy in her voice that was meant to lure him in.
“In about four months now! Time flies.”
“Have you decided who you’ll go to the party with?”
He laughed, a little too loudly, just to show you that he was having fun. That he could laugh without you. That he didn’t need you.
He was lying through his teeth.
“Not yet,” he answered while staring right into this stranger’s eyes, making his voice a little deeper than usual on purpose. “Do you have suggestions?”
“I mean
 I can think of a possibility
 depending on what happens between then and now.”
She held up her open palm, and Andrew knew to place his phone in her hand. She entered her phone number.
“I have to go for tonight, but I hope you’ll call me soon,” she said, handing him back his phone, and her smile was tempting enough to melt a glacier.
Andrew nodded, gave her a wink. She moved closer to kiss his cheek, and he let her, bending a little to offer his skin to her lips. They were warm and soft, he could feel her lipstick on them. He wondered if you were still looking.
She gave him another warm smile; and he returned the gesture, bid her a goodnight and a safe trip home.
He didn’t look at you again, instead he grabbed his glass of whiskey, and downed the burning liquid. He turned towards the bartender and asked for a refill. He recognized your footsteps behind him, and he thought you would stop by his side, but you didn’t. You made a beeline for the bathroom instead, and his heart leapt in disappointment.
“Andy! Get your arse over here!” Alex shouted from somewhere behind him. “I need your word for a story! Daphne won’t believe me!”
Andrew shook his head, a fond and amused smile on his lips as he turned to his friends, taking his new drink with him. He kept an eye on the door to the bathroom while he joked with Alex.
“I was sick,” Andrew defended himself.
“We were thirty minutes before a show, when this guy just gives us the most cringy sound I’ve ever heard. Somewhere between a prepubescent getting hit in the balls and a dying pig.”
“I had the flu, and was completely stoned on steroids to keep my voice somehow functioning.”
“Excuses, excuses! He got us all panicking, thinking he wouldn’t be able to perform.”
“And I did!”
“How professional
”
“Thanks, Alex
”
“
 to perform while higher than a fucking boeing!”
Andrew playfully rolled his eyes, making everybody laugh.
He caught a glimpse of your jacket as you hurried from the bathroom to the door of the pub.
“Ha
 Y/N’s calling?”
“Fuck off,” he merely answered his bass player, making Alex chuckle.
“You’d better hurry before she leaves you behind.”
Andrew didn’t answer and merely followed his friend’s advice, emptying his drink before leaving the glass discarded on the nearest table.
You were pacing a few meters away from the entrance of the bar when Andrew stepped outside.
You froze as you noticed him.
“Y/N? You’re okay?”
You blinked at him, like a deer caught in headlights.
“Yeah,” you breathed.
You looked paler than usual, your eyes were a little red. He wasn’t sure if it was due to fatigue or tears.
“Are you sick? You want to go home?”
You hesitated, but finally nodded.
“Yeah, I
 I think I’m gonna head home. I’m tired and
 I had a bit too much to drink.”
“Give me a sec, I’ll grab my coat.”
“I’ll call a uber. Anyway
 you’re not sober either, you can’t drive, Andy
”
“It’s almost one in the morning. It’s late, let me take you home, okay?”
“I
 I’d rather you don’t.”
Andrew narrowed his eyes at you.
Did it mean that his plan was working? That you were jealous?
“Why not? Did I do something wrong?” he asked, feigning innocence.
You took a couple of seconds to answer, your expression still unreadable.
“No
 no, you didn’t. But I don’t want you to accompany me. I don’t need your help.”
He was taken aback by your answer, by how much it hurt to hear those words coming out of your mouth.
“I just
 I was just trying to be helpful.”
“You seemed busy enough tonight
 Don’t you have someone else to go home with?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“Are you jealous?” he asked, trying to hide how impatient he was, how he hoped for the answer to be a yes.
You scoffed, hands coming up to rest on your hips.
“Don’t be ridiculous, we’re not dating! You can sleep with whoever you want.”
“You’re jealous,” and this time it was more of a statement than a question.
“I’m not! We’re not dating! We’re not exclusive! If you want to have fun with
 whoever that was, then go ahead! Have fun!”
“We just flirted, nothing serious.”
“You got her number, that’s a win!”
You hesitated for a moment, but asked the question on the tip of your tongue anyway.
“What’s her name?”
“Marissa,” he answered, and you looked away as he spoke her name.
There was a tug to his heart
 it came from both satisfaction and guilt.
“You know
 we can make a rule about that,” he offered.
“About what?”
“About
 the arrangement stopping if we want to sleep with someone else.”
You scoffed again, your arms moving once more, this time to cross before your chest.
“What makes you think you’re the only person I’ve slept with these past couple of months?”
You flinched when his face fell.
“Have you? Slept with other people while we
?”
The question remained suspended in mid-air, and Andrew tried to blink away the stupor and the pain that came with your words. There was no air left in his lungs, like a punch in the guts

“No
 no, I haven’t,” you admitted. “Have you?”
“No, I haven’t.”
You’re the only one I want, he wanted to add, but he didn’t want to spoil it all by saying something so stupid.
You remained silent, and so Andrew pulled out his phone and got a uber for you.
“Can you text me when you’re home? Please? Just to make sure you’re alright,” he insisted, and you easily yielded.
It took you a couple of minutes to walk closer to him again. He was surprised when you took his hand. He ran his calloused fingertips across your soft knuckles a couple of times before interlacing your fingers together.
“Can we
 can we add that rule of yours? We stop our arrangement when we meet someone else?” you asked, fleeing his gaze.
“Okay, let’s do that.”
“So
 are we going to stop our
 arrangement? Are you going to see Marissa again?”
You didn’t see his reassuring smile, you were looking at the curb instead.
“No
 no, I don’t think I want to see her again.”
You finally looked up at him.
“You’re sure?” you asked, but Andrew’s smile grew more tender as he nodded, and he let his free hand move upwards to rest on your cheek.
“I’d rather have you,” he confessed in a whisper, voice deep and sweet. He noticed how you leaned into his touch.
He wanted to kiss you, he wondered if you would let him
 but then there was a car coming, and you took a step back as the headlights illuminated your frame while they came closer, like a halo around something divine.
“Goodnight, Andy,” your voice was soft and tender as you spoke, and he guessed that your words meant more than their usual meaning.
He gave you the most loving smile.
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
He watched as you disappeared in the car, waited as the engines roared a couple of seconds before the vehicle started to move, stared as the car drove away.
He smiled.
You were jealous. You wanted him to have no one else. It meant that you cared. You cared. You fucking cared

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blainesebastian · 1 year ago
Text
something real
words: 13,045 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: SFW except for one explicit scene summary: i took inspo from a request about fake!dating for a wedding and from another film with a similar premise. what else do you do when your ex is getting married? hire a fake date notes: feel free to visit my austin masterlist warnings: none, but check the rating. tag list: @austinbutlermischief, @killerqueenfan, @stylespresleyhearted,
“You’re losing it.”
A short laugh escapes your lips because god, maybe you are. This all started out easily enough—you needed a date for your ex’s wedding. Right, the fact that you were even invited kind of drives you crazy. It’s not like you didn’t have a good relationship with Todd, you did? But it also doesn’t change the fact how things ended—he ‘meant’ to break things off with you but started seeing someone at the same time. Claire. The girl he’s marrying. But you’re not about to go through life with grudges and anger when you can just let things go.
Which is why you’ve entertained this wedding invitation in the first place?
But to go alone? That’s a fate worse than death.
Which, ironically, is exactly what your friend, Jill, is telling you you’re going to be with this idea you’ve come up with.
“It’s all perfectly safe.” You mutter, sliding onto a bar stool and turning to look at her. You’re wearing a light blue dress, pair of booties, and jean jacket. Just casual enough but also hinting you’ve got a figure to show off if you really wanted to.
She scoffs, “Yeah, that’s what everyone says before they end up on 60 Minutes.”
You can’t help but smile, tugging the file out of your course before setting it on the bar top. “Do you want me to explain it again?”
Jill puts her hands on her hips—as if that will somehow make her comfortable with all of this, but she’s not protesting either. So you open up the file and—
“So my neighbor’s used this service before to go to her high school reunion, you know, so she didn’t end up there alone. She went onto their online platform, filled out a survey and bam, she was matched with someone to go.”
Jill narrows her eyes, “For twenty thousand dollars.”
“Well it’s not charity,” You throw back, “I’ve done the research, there’s a ton of reviews—all positive. It’s not like it’s about sex or anything, it’s just
companionship for one event.”
Jill looks at the file, crinkling her nose, “There’s so many other ways you could have done this—Rick, the guy in 6B? He’s always thought you were cute.”
You laugh a little, “If I go out with Rick, there is a good chance I’ll end up missing some limbs—dude is creepy, Jill.”
Her friend rolls her eyes but it’s fond, opening up the file and pointing to a blank spot where this guy’s photo should be, “Okay, but you don’t even get to know what he looks like?”
“I think it was my Wi-Fi,” You state honestly, “Some of the images weren’t loading. But that’s why you’re here,” You grin, “Safety measures. So—” You gently push on one of her hips, “Go find a table, order a drink while I wait for Austin.”
“That’s the gigolo’s name?”
“Wedding date,” You correct, shooing her away until she heads to a table.
Taking a breath, you look at the reflective surface of the bar mirror in front of you, mentally praying that this somehow not a huge mistake and order a drink.
--
Chewing on the drunken cherry in your Manhattan, you glance down the bar as you see someone handsome talking to a small group of women. You wonder if that’s Austin, looking for you—he’s about ten minutes late. Your stomach clenches anxiously, knowing that maybe Jill was right and this is utterly ridiculous. But
you got invited to the wedding late (either it was a last-minute thought or it got lost in the mail) but there was no way you could organically find someone to ask.
Sure, you could have brought Jill or some other friend but
deep down? You know this is about making Todd feel utterly stupid for cheating on you, for leaving you for someone else. You don’t want him back, of course, but that feeling of satisfaction? That look on his face when he sees you with someone else? You want it.
You can’t not go and you can’t find someone random in your life already to go with
so when your neighbor mentioned this quick fix? How could you not look into it? You’ve got a ton of money saved from over the years, not to mention a small investment your grandfather put in your name. What’s the harm in looking into this, right?
“Y/N?”
Turning on the bar stool, you nearly swallow your own tongue as you’re met face to face with who you assume is Austin. And joke’s on you because he’s ten times more beautiful than the other guy at the bar you saw talking to those women. He’s tall, lean, in a pair of dark jeans and a black t-shirt underneath a black leather jacket. Easily handsome, like
James Dean or Elvis Presley. Doesn’t have to try very hard.
And suddenly something hysterical crawls up your throat as he takes a seat next to you, introduces himself as Austin, and apologizes for being late because of traffic because—
“I’m sorry—” You interrupt, shaking your head, “This uh, this isn’t going to work.”
His eyebrows draw together in confusion, his mouth opening and closing, “Excuse me?”
“You’re,” You laugh lightly, cheeks heating up. There’s this sickly sensation gripping your stomach, telling you to run, “No one is going to believe that we’re dating.”
And maybe that’s something oddly pathetic you shouldn’t have uttered outloud because what’s even worse, Austin seems to grip what you’re saying and his features soften. You do not want pity or sympathy, you’re just
stating a fact.
Austin takes in a soft breath and looks towards the bartender, ordering himself a beer, confusing you a little because you expected him to just
take off. There’s no money involved at this point, it’s a clean break. This meeting is just to discuss details.
“I think you’re underestimating yourself,” He states gently, eyes sweeping over your form. And god, he’s good, isn’t he? You suppose this is his job, making women feel good. Confident. Even though it’s all a lie.
Letting out a breath as his drink is set down on the bar, you figure there’s no harm in
talking with him, right? He came all this way; you can at least wait until he finishes his beer to turn him down. You’ll just go to this damn wedding alone—it’s really not that big of a deal, right?
Austin takes off his leather jacket, hanging it up on a hook underneath the bar and he smells amazing—some sort of cologne that’s fresh and almost citrusy. You run a hand through your hair and order another Manhattan.
“So your request said a wedding?”
“My ex,” You clarify, “And I don’t want him back, or anything, I just want him to feel like an idiot.”
Austin smiles a little, humming— “Well, that shouldn’t be too hard. I’m assumin’ he already is one.”
A small laugh stutters forward in your chest because yes, he is. Your shoulders start to relax just a little because maybe Austin gets it. By not going or going alone you
you don’t want Todd to think that he’s somehow gotten one over you, that you’re lonely or broken ever since you’ve separated.
“Have you
done weddings before?”
He shifts a little on the barstool so that he’s facing you a little easier, “I’ve done weddings the most,” He admits, “Two high school reunions, one funeral.”
You raise your eyebrows, setting your drink down on the bar. “A funeral?”
Austin shrugs lightly, “Some women just want a hand to hold on their hardest day, a shoulder to cry on. Someone to talk to.” He licks his lips, taking a sip of his beer, “I’m not one to judge.”
You straighten your shoulders and
you suppose you’re really not in a position to do that either, given you’re here to hire Austin so you feel less alone and pathetic at a wedding. You take a long look at him for a moment, —curious. He doesn’t want to be doing anything else?
“Can I ask—why are you doing this?” Your fingers trace shapes into the condensation on your glass. “This whole fake-date program?”
Austin clears his throat, “You can ask me whatever you want,” He starts and that within itself seems like a dangerous proposition. “I work at this cafĂ© near here but uh, it doesn’t exactly bring a lot of money in. I want to be an actor, like
a serious one, the money I get from these dates I’m savin’ up to go to L.A.”
And he essentially gets to pretend to be someone he’s not. Like an endless list of auditions.
There are other things you want to ask, other questions stuck in your throat about doing weddings. Why weddings? The whole concept seems like a bad idea—a high school reunion, a holiday party, even a funeral makes more sense, doesn’t it?
Those aren’t emotionally connected events, there’s no
opportunities to fall into something deeper than what the contract of attachment allows. But weddings? It’s about love and finding your person and
going to one with someone else feels like such a slippery slope.
Or maybe it doesn’t because Austin is a professional.
“So if I
if we do this, what does it entail, exactly?” You take another sip of your drink, as if you need the liquid courage for his response.
A small smile graces his handsome face again, “Don’t overthink it. It’s whatever you want, whatever you’re comfortable with.”
You feel like there’s this heat uncoiling in your belly even though he’s not suggesting anything. Somehow, it’s in the ocean blue of his eyes—a depth there. You clear your throat, “You mean uh—if I require a dance partner? Because I love to dance at weddings
usually badly.”
Austin laughs warmly but shakes his head. “I meant if I was goin’ as your date or a boyfriend.”
And oh, of course, you hadn’t even thought about it but of course Austin would want a more specific role to sink his teeth into and your mind spins about what you want to do. It’s just one night, one silly wedding, there’s no long con here. It’s not like Todd will even care who you show up with, right? You’re the one who wants to feel less lonely—
And yet—
“You can think about it, if you need to—”
“Boyfriend.” You say, cutting him off. Heat returns to your cheeks
mise well go big or go home, right? If you’re going to do this? This has got to be a bad idea, right?
“Okay,” Austin smiles, “Good.”
So it’s settled that he’ll meet you at your place beforehand, you’ll iron out details of your relationship in case anyone asks and then you’ll go to the wedding together.
Austin stands and he tosses some cash on the bar counter (enough to cover your drink as well) and he hovers for a moment, tugging on his leather jacket. “My number’s in the file, in case you need it.”
Then there’s a moment where Austin watches you, fixing the lapels of his jacket. His one hand then rests on the bar, taking a step closer to you, and the way that you’re seated, your legs open just slightly to accommodate his body in your space.
“Don’t hit me, alright?” He smiles a little, leaning down, and honestly you’re the one that feels like you’re getting sucker punched in the stomach. Air right out of your lungs. “It was nice meeting you.”
You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as your eyes flutter to his lips, “Yeah, you too.”
There’s more than enough time for you to pull away, but you don’t, so he kisses you.
It’s nothing obscene, but slow and gentle. Warm. Just enough to make your heart pound against your ribcage, electricity singing in your veins. You suppose it’s something you should get used to if Austin is going to pass as your boyfriend.
You raise your eyebrows a little as he pulls away, hot under the collar of your jean jacket.
“Figure we’d just get that out of the way so you could concentrate.” He teases and god, your mind is spinning. You kinda hate that he’s made you feel like this so easily, like somehow it’s second nature.
“What, that doesn’t cost extra?” You manage to throw out there, finding your voice.
Austin grins, another soft laugh rumbling in his chest. “I’ll see you soon.”
You let out a slow breath, running a hand over your hair as you watch him walk out of the bar before downing the rest of your drink.
“So that’s your date, huh?” Jill asks as she comes up behind you—honestly her voice kinda sounds like cotton in your ears. “Todd is gonna swallow his own tongue.”
And you can’t help but grin.
You meet one more time before the wedding, just
something to solidify that you do, in fact, know what you’re doing. But also to get a bit more comfortable around Austin and the fact that he’s going to be your boyfriend. You let out a slow breath, aggravated by how crazy that sounds. Maybe Jill’s right, maybe this is a bad idea (despite how handsome and charming Austin is).
He’s picked you up to go somewhere but won’t tell you where. And when the engine turns off, you undo your seatbelt and look out the windshield, “A custard house?”
“Was hopin’ you could go for somethin’ sweet,” Austin smiles a little, “They make these waffle custard sandwiches that’ll change your life.”
You hum lightly and start to get out of the car, a little confused because
well, you’re not sure what you expected, but it wasn’t this. “We’re here for ice cream sandwiches?”
Austin scrunches his nose in mock offense at her flippant description, “No, we’re here for waffle custard. You need to work on listenin’, come on.” He gets out of the car too and locks the doors.
You know you’re about to paying Austin a decent amount of money to be your stand-in date, your fake boyfriend, dragging him to this wedding for god knows what reasons make sense in your head but
you suppose you didn’t count on him being like this. A tiny bit thoughtful, sweet, funny even.
Or maybe he’s already a decent actor.
You follow him to the counter, your eyes trailing over at least thirty different custard flavors—not only that, but there’s twice as many toppings. How are you supposed to choose?
“You know what you want already?” You ask as Austin rolls up the sleeves of his jean jacket a little.
“I always know what I want.” He leans on the counter, turning towards the woman at the register to order French vanilla—but stops when you make a noise. He looks at you over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “Somethin’ you wanna share?”
You purse your lips and rocks back onto your heels, shaking your head, “No I just
vanilla, really? You don’t seem like the type.” She teases.
Austin smirks, straightening his back. “Oh, huh.” He motions to the large display menu. “Put your money where your mouth is, baby. What should I order?”
You let the pet name slide (and it does, like heated molasses right down in your veins), which is probably a dangerous slippery slope, but you’re too busy trying to take in a custard selection at the moment to care. You chew on your lower lip, slipping through the flavors written in chalk on the board and decides to go with your favorite pairing—
“He’ll have chocolate and strawberry custard in that waffle sandwich thing with
” You hum, “Caramel sauce and chocolate sprinkles.” You smile, clearly happy with your selection before ordering the same for yourself
except you also get chocolate sauce and whipped cream.
Because why the hell not?
“You’re gonna have that all over you before the night is over.” Austin motions to the dripping mess in your hands, carefully shelled between fresh waffles wrapped up in foil.
You slide yourself onto the hood of Austin’s car, almost sliding back down but managing to lean against the windshield before losing your custard sandwich.
“Challenge accepted.”
Austin smiles a little, sitting down next to you, looking far too handsome sprawled out on his car.
You realize that everything between you both is so dangerous, wrapped in gentle dynamite, the softest breath or touch capable of explosion. But it’s also tantalizing in a way that excites you—Austin is different, gentle but rough with the walls he keeps up.
Everything about this is a lie –circles in your head, over and over, trying to remind you not to take anything too seriously. And yet? You bury it deep with a bite of your custard sandwich. You moan softly and lick chocolate off your lips because Jesus, this is incredible.
Austin smirks, licking custard between the waffle before he takes a bite of his own. “Told you it was worth the stop.”
“I’m not going to admit you somehow know all just because you have decent taste in custard.” You smile and takes another bite of your waffle sandwich, leaning back to watch cars drive by.
“Give it time.” Austin glances over and you can feel his gaze, always like a magnet tracing the curves of your body. You want to tell him that you enjoy when he looks at you like that, to be felt and seen all at the same time, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction.
You wonder if he looks at every woman who’s ever paid him like that.
You’re not sure you want to know.
You turn and meet his gaze, holding it for a moment before a small smile graces your lips. “Do you really work at a cafĂ©?”
He nods, leaning further up against the windshield. “It’s called Mug Half Full; been there about three years.” He licks his lips, pulling a napkin from his pants pocket and wiping his chin where he feels caramel sticking. “What do you do? You didn’t mention it in your email.”
You swallow down a bought of self-loathing at the question and decide to take another bite of your sandwich; sweet hiding sour. “I uh, I’m kinda in-between jobs at the moment.” You know Austin has to be able to see through that terrible excuse of an answer. “I’m currently getting an online degree in education.”
Austin finishes his custard waffle, which is admirable because yours is two seconds away from becoming soup in your hands. You lick at the sides as he crumples up a napkin and puts his trash in a can nearby so it’s not in either of your way.
“What do you want to do?”
The question shouldn’t offend you as much as it does, the want and need to defend yourself raising your hackles a bit. You bite down on reacting too sorely; he’s just asking a question—and you realize you haven’t given him a reason not to ask something like that. Your bland response is what prompts the statement.
You suppose you’re just
too used to people asking that, especially since society makes you feel like you somehow got a late start in figuring things out. In reality, it’s never too early or too late to be whoever you want. You’re just
getting to that.
You clear your throat, setting your custard sandwich down on your lap a moment, the foil protecting your clothes. “I have no idea,” You admit with a soft laugh, “My relationship with my ex kinda took all my energy—supporting whatever he needed, you know? Now I’m just starting to figure myself out.” And you’re proud of that progress, even though it feels like pushing a boulder up a hill sometimes. “I might teach maybe, one day.”
He holds your gaze for a moment, slight amusement dancing in the corners of his eyes. He smiles gently, looking down at your hands before he picks up your sandwich and licks whipped cream off the corner. Ridiculously obscene and unnecessary but you let him do it anyways.
You have apparently become accustomed to sharing things—you’ve noticed that he continues the ruse of soft touches and intimate gestures when no one’s watching. You think it’s to help solidify the fact that you’re supposed to be dating, supposed to be into one another. Which isn’t very hard when he does things like that with his tongue.
Austin tosses your trash like he did with his own before turning to look at you, handing you a napkin to wipe your hands off. “I could tell you wanted more. And you know, there’s nothin’ wrong with that.”
Then why does it feel so guilty for you to admit— “Sometimes it feels selfish, to want things for myself.” You swallow, letting it sink into the air. You’ve never told anyone that before, not even your best friend or your parents.
“Sounds like someone really selfish made you feel that way.” He says gently and it’s like
wool has been taken off your eyes. Something you maybe knew but needed to hear.
It’s not what you expect him to say, not in the slightest, but it warms you from the inside out either way. You nod because yes, you’ve never thought about it like that but yes, that’s it exactly. Realizing that taking care of yourself is one of the best things you can do—knowing yourself and that you deserve to want, that it’s normal, even.
Austin hums softly, moving to slip off the car. You swing your legs around and when he offers you his hand, you take it to slide off as well.
How easy it would be to lean up and kiss him, how he’d probably taste like hints of chocolate and strawberry. You wait for him to let you go, for his hand to stop holding yours. But he doesn’t.
You lick your own lips, your eyes looking to his lower one, how it pouts out gently when he looks at you—and you decide to stop waiting for things you want. If you’re going to pay for his company, you might as well enjoy it.
You press your lips into his own, capturing something sweet, lips moving together like you both were always made to kiss. Austin’s one hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing your hair back around your ear before eventually pulling back. You’re breathing a little shakily, your noses brushing, Austin taking his time to trace your cheekbone with his lips before he opens up the car door for you.
“You’re not charging me extra for the gentleman treatment, are you?” Or for the kisses I keep stealing?
Austin smiles, a soft laugh leaving his throat as he waits for you to put your seatbelt on. “Not yet.” And closes the door with a wink.
--
You think about canceling six times between when you wake up on the day of the wedding to the moment you slide your dress over your head. You’ve told yourself that this was and continues to be a terrible idea and if you hadn’t paid him half up front through a cash app, you’d have the nerve to tell him never mind. Kisses and all, you really feel like you’re starting to lose your damn mind.
Though you know even if you told Austin to forget the whole thing, you still have to go to this wedding. (You could probably skip it no big deal, but the last thing you want is Todd to assume you’re bothered either). Canceling now would definitely mean going alone and you can’t stomach it, not when you feel like all of your insides are already in knots.
You smooth your hands down the front of your dress as you hear the doorbell, taking the steps downstairs carefully in your gold heels. You’ve settled for a navy-blue number that shows just enough cleavage and is ruffled at your middle, hugging curves and kissing your skin beautifully. You feel confident and comfortable, which is important for a long night.
You sigh, glancing at your front door for a moment before turning the knob and opening up to see Austin. He’s standing in a suit, beautifully polished, hair perfectly coifed on his head. A navy button-down underneath a gray suit jacket, tie to match with a red spidery design that reminds you of tree branches in the winter.
A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows because, “Why are you shakin’ your head?” He asks as he steps over the threshold and you close the door.
“I just naturally assumed you were going to show up in black. Black in your profile picture that finally loaded, black at the bar
 I thought that was the only shade you owned.”
He runs a hand lightly over his chest. “Grays in the same shade family.” He’s joking but you’re not laughing and finally he just throws his hands up a little, “What’s the big deal?”
“Because we match.”
Austin looks down at himself and pauses, doesn’t get it, gives you a look that makes you feel a little crazy. “That a bad thing?”
“It’s—” No, it’s not exactly a terrible idea but it somehow digs under your skin because you want today to be perfect and Austin is supposed to be your boyfriend and you can’t be that couple that goes all matchy-matchy to events, right?
What are the odds that he shows up in something that is the exact same color as your damn dress?
“It’s too perfect, it’s not believable.” You say and he raises his eyebrows because that does not make one lick of sense. He takes a step towards you and you mirror one back, shaking your head.
Austin lets out a slow breath because you’re nitpicking and it annoys him, a flare of impatience decorating his handsome face. “Well I don’t exactly got another suit in my back pocket and we’re already late.”
You narrows your eyes, “Just
follow me. I’ll change.”
You’re up the stairs and in your bedroom before you realize what you’ve said, Austin slipping in behind you and looking around the room, drinking you in with permission you’ve accidently given him. You turn suddenly and slip off your heels, pressing one hand to his chest to stop him.
“Don’t move.”
He smiles a little and nods his head, sticking his hands in his pockets as he watches you slide into your walk-in closet to change. You sigh softly and run a hand over your forehead before you take a moment to unzip your dress and glance at your options.
“A lot of beige.”
You roll your eyes and pull out a black dress, quickly pulling it on and kicking your navy blue one to the side before stepping out of your closet. You don’t bother to zip it up until you make sure it’s the right one.
Austin has dutifully not moved from the spot on the carpet where you’ve left him and he scrunches his nose at your dress, “You goin’ to a wake?”
“What’s wrong with beige?” You glance around your bedroom; at the little accents you’ve added that have color to them. Some shades of coffee colored brown and touches of teal here and there. It’s minimalist but tasteful.
“It’s just not what I pictured.”
“You pictured my bedroom?” You ask, but the corners of your mouth pull slightly as you put your hands on your hips.
Austin tilts his head at you, eyes traveling over your body in an unashamed way. “Maybe.” He pauses for a moment to let that sink into your pores. “You don’t seem like a beige. Also, no to that dress. I can maybe get you not wantin’ to match completely but that doesn’t line up with what I got on at all.”
You nod and turn to go back into your closet, pulling the dress off and standing far too long in your underwear trying to decide on a color range. You could go gold
but that feels too flashy, gray is out of the question and so is another navy dress so

You finger red fabric for a moment that matches the scarlet on Austin’s tie and pull it off the hanger.
“I’m not actually that fond of beige,” You admit over your shoulder as you pull the dress up—it’s a fit and flare that kind of reminds you of the sixties. Something that hugs your waist with a high-neck tanked top and flares out like a wide flame at the bottom. It hits just below your knees and your gold heels will still go nicely with it.
“But the house kinda came this way and
I never took the time to fix it.” You walk out of the closet, pulling your hair free from underneath. “Todd didn’t like bold colors anyways.”
Austin’s eyes descend on you like a cold rush of water, a wave crashing down onto your shores. He stares for what feels like a long time, his hands coming out of his pockets like he wants to touch but can’t—too far away. You smile softly as his gaze sticks, he’s captivated by the dress, and you notice he has to shake his head as you approach to be able to speak to you.
“So I’m guessin’ he’s not gonna like this.” He reaches to touch your waist, fingers pressing warmly into the fabric.
You chew on the inside of your cheek a moment, looking up at him. “Do you like it?”
He smirks gently, pulling on your elbow to turn you around. He doesn’t reply but you feel suddenly naked under his gaze as your bare back is exposed to him. He takes his time finding the zipper and slowly draws it up into place, fixing the little hook at the top. His hands rest against your shoulders and guide down, squeezing your arms before letting you go.
“Get your shoes. We’re already late.”
You let out a long sigh that somehow turns into a pout, making him smile, “We could stay here, you could give more wisecracks about my bedroom decorum.”
Austin smirks and grabs your purse from where it’s seated on the bed as you slip your heels back on. “As amazing as that sounds, that’s not what you’re payin’ me for.”
And the words sound sour, swallowing them down, nodding your head as you leave the bedroom with him.
--
The wedding itself isn’t actually terrible—it’s beautiful in a way that would make any woman envious. Lots of flowers and gold designs and as you watch the entire ceremony take place, you have moments where you wonder why you’re here. Was it really that important for you to show up? And not only that, but pay a date to be here? You keep going back and forth, like a serious game of tug-of-war.
Why did it matter if you showed up alone? Or with Jill?
Austin helps you with your coat, his hand on your lower back as you walk out of the church and towards the reception hall which is being held in this beautiful botanical garden that has rooms you can rent for things like this.
People begin to pile into the building, pausing at the coat check before heading into the reception all, and it’s right there that you suddenly feel like bolting. Truth is? Todd was your boyfriend for years before your breakup (a breakup that might have never happened if you hadn’t realized he was cheating, because clearly he hadn’t taken the initiative until it was too late). And it’s probably so stupid that you remained friends with him, that you were invited to this wedding, that you for some reason care about what he thinks—even now.
But you do.
You should have just moved on and thrown the wedding invitation in the trash but
feelings don’t always come in black and white. You constantly live in a shade of gray.
And you’re worried someone is going to see right through you tonight.
Austin squeezes your hand, getting your attention as you remain grounded by the coat check. He’s patient, waiting until your gaze meets his own. “You’re shakin’.” His other hand covers the one he’s already holding.
You nod your head and offer a smile you don’t feel. “I thought this would be easy. Having you here as a distraction, smiling at all the right times and drinking too much wine in a nice dress,” You shrug your one shoulder, “It doesn’t change how I feel.”
Despite the small amount of privacy the coat check wall provides, you can feel eyes on you two from different parts of the room; people slipping past to get a glass of champagne from the cash bar, fluttering in-between hors d'oeuvres tables and congratulating the couple. Guests who know who you are, who are whispering about you. You can hear Todd a few feet away; big laughs and too loud discussions that tell you he’s a little drunk but genuinely happy.
Or maybe this is all in your head.
“Look, I think you were gonna feel this way no matter if you came alone or with someone.” He runs his thumb over your knuckles. “But you can still do all the other things you mentioned,” Austin leans in, brushes his lips over your cheekbone as he talks, “Drink too much wine in a beautiful dress and smilin’ definitely doesn’t hurt.”  
He pulls back and you lick your lips, wanting nothing more than to lean up and kiss him again. To feel his arms wrap around you and pull you close, back outside, to his car, away from this place where you feel like you have to be someone you’re not.
Austin grasps your chin between his pointer finger and thumb, waiting until your eyes meets his own again. He leans forward to brush your lips together, gently, more to distract you than anything else because it’s not a kiss.
“Women hire me because they want to feel wanted and if that’s what you need to hear, then fine, I do want you, Y/N.” You let out a breath that sounds too shaky for your own good, your knees slightly buckling. All the other gazes you once felt on you fade away, until it’s only you and Austin in an empty botanical garden.
“But hearin’ that doesn’t matter until you want things for yourself. You want someone to believe in you? You want to feel confident? Wanted?” His hand falls to your waist, “Good enough?”
You swallow thickly, his words reaching something that’s still raw inside of you, that still hurts to think about. You want to pull away, nearly do, but instead surrender to his weight against you. It’s not his fault that he does a better job of reading you than you do looking in a mirror.
“Then it has to come from you first.”
You shake your head as he pulls away, his hand very simply returning to yours as you both move towards the cash bar. “I know you think you know me from a few meetings and a detailed email request. But you don’t.” Your words at least sound stronger than you feel.
Austin looks at you over his shoulder and smiles but says nothing in return.
--
Maybe the problem is, he does know you, even from the simplest interactions. Maybe you’re just not used to being seen. Todd never saw you, even when you gave him so many chances to try. You suppose at that point you need to want to try.
You’re seated at a table that has mostly co-workers and friends and you attempt not to cringe when someone asks you how you know the bride and groom. Austin swoops in and responds that they’re friends, his arm stretched out over the back of your chair. You’re grateful because the words we dated are sitting in your throat like a lump, difficult to swallow over.
The night spins forward, you’re able to avoid the bride and groom for the duration of it, just enjoying food and a little bit too much wine and hanging out with Austin. There are long conversations where you get to know one another, fill one another in about things that are real, beyond the layers of this fake-date situation.
It’s nice, seeing him in that light, getting to know him as if you’d bumped into him at a bar and enjoyed his company.
You almost wish that was the case, instead.
His arm squeezes around your waist as you both dance on the dance floor, his jacket on the back of his chair, dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. You’re definitely a little tipsy, the room is rose-colored, but all in all? It feels like a crisis has been avoided, you’re actually having a good time.
“Can I get you another glass of wine?” Austin asks, brushing his lips over your forehead, “Maybe some cookies from the dessert table?”
You grin, “You know me so well.” And it’s not a line, somehow, you’ve been craving cookies for the past half hour.
Austin smiles, nods, squeezes your waist and leaves you to do just that. You somehow ache with missing the heat of his body once he’s gone—and that’s how you know you’re slightly in over your head. You have to keep reminding yourself that none of this is real—the way Austin talks to you or looks at you, the way his hands travel over your body, the slight brush of his lips against your own.
It's all a lie.
A lie that you paid for.
Running a hand over your forehead, you turn and nearly bump into someone, blinking as you look up and—
“Todd.”
Your ex smiles, “Hey—I’m so glad you came, I wasn’t sure if you would.”
Neither was I, “What can I say? I’m full of surprises.” Chewing on your lower lip, you’re struck with being unsure of what to say, scanning the crowd for Austin before clearing your throat, “Uhm, everything has been beautiful.”
Todd smiles, nodding, taking a look around for his bride. “Thank you. Are you uh, here with Jill?”
You open and close your mouth like a goldfish until you feel that familiar arm slide around you. “No this is Austin,” You take the glass of wine and have a hearty sip and it instantly makes your head spin.
Todd clears his throat and even though he’s smiling, it’s clear he’s giving Austin a once-over. He did not expect you to be here with someone. “I didn’t know you were bringing a friend that wasn’t Jill.” He kinda laughs, like maybe it’s a joke that you don’t have many other close friends other than her.
But Austin is quick to smile, “Actually, I’m her boyfriend.”
And there it is, the look on Todd’s face that you were after this whole time. It’s quick, gone almost as soon as it appears, but lingers in his eyes. Regret, maybe even jealousy. Even though his wife appears by his side and introductions are exchanged.
Luckily the conversation doesn’t last very long, the bride and groom are swept towards other people, more dancing. Which is good because you’re pretty sure you noticed that the bride couldn’t keep her eyes off of Austin.
What a couple her and Todd make.
Downing the rest of the wine, you set it on the table, letting out a slow breath. Austin keeps his hands firm on your hips and you can’t quite meet his eyes. You’re not quite sure how
this wasn’t what you expected, nor wanted.
Just feels like a big mistake.
“Wanna get out of here?” He asks quietly, seeming to read your mind.
You nod and he keeps his arm around you until you make it outside and reach his car.
--
That last glass of wine did you zero favors and by the time you make it to your front door, you’re dropping your keys instead of sliding them into the lock. Austin smiles a little, picking them up and unlocking everything, pushing the door open. You’ve got a firm hand on his shirt because you’re swaying slightly, almost a little afraid of what might happen if you let go.
What if all of this is one weird dream?
“Where are we going?” You ask as he comes inside, closing the door behind him.
“Water n’bed.” Austin replies as he guides you into the living room.
You scrunch your nose and look to the ceiling, definitely knocking yourself off balance as the room spins. Austin lets out a short grunt as he catches you, steadying you against his chest.
“In that order? That’s so boring.”
He chuckles slightly, guiding you both until he has you in front of the couch, encouraging you to sit. “You got somethin’ else you’d rather do?”
You can’t help but grin at the question, poking at his chest. “I think you know what I’d rather like to do.” It’s like hot lava pouring from your lips, you can’t seem to stop it even though you know you’ll have burns later.
Austin hums under his breath but doesn’t respond, concentrates instead on keeping you on the couch once you’re seated.
“Stay there,” He says when you try to get up, holding onto your shoulders and pressing you gently down. “You good or you gonna slip off?” There’s an amused smile pulling handsomely at his lips as he tilts his head down to look at you, slipping his thumb and forefinger along your chin.
“Good, I’m so good.” You nod, determined to give him responses that make sense. You just wish the room would stop spinning.
Only when he feels like you mean it does he pull away from you. You closes your eyes as your fingers grip the cushion, trying to hold yourself in place. None of this really helps and instead you just end up feeling nauseas, forcing your eyes to open so you can see Austin.
He’s taken his jacket off, tie gone and shirt unbuttoned a bit, and seeing his chest and forearms makes heat unwantedly pool between your legs and you lick your lips, trying to focus on what he has in his hands.
“He
he honestly didn’t think I’d be there with anyone.”
A crinkle appears between Austin’s eyebrows and he pauses, “What?”
You swallow, not sure if your trail of thought makes sense. “Todd. Jerk.” You give as an explanation.
Something passes over Austin’s face but it’s gone as soon as it appears and he crouches in front of you, his one hand slipping over your knee a moment, “Do you actually care what he thinks?”
You hold his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. He hums softly, squeezing, his thumb between your thighs and it’s really too distracting.
“Then fuck him; neither of those two seemed like they should be giving relationship advice.”
You giggle something ridiculous and cover your face with your hand a moment, glad you were able to make sense of all that even though you probably didn’t need to bring it up.
“You got anythin’ like a long t-shirt?” He changes the subject as he makes a motion to go upstairs. “I don’t think I’m gonna be able to get pants on you.”
You huff out a sound and rub a hand over your face, most likely smearing makeup in the worst way. “That’s alright, I like bein’ pantless.” You reach over and is happy you don’t tumble, using one hand to hold onto his shoulder to get his attention. “Upstairs, first drawer on the right.”
He’s back and forth quickly; makes you wonder how long you’ve actually been sitting there.
Him undressing you is a blur; you note that he does his best to dip his gaze when he can to give you a little privacy. Just enough that you can figure out that your head doesn’t go into one of the arm holes and assists when you starts whining that you can’t get it right. You throw your wedding dress aside and kicks off your heels, letting out a soft huff when Austin disappears into the kitchen.
He comes back with a warm washcloth that smells like lilac soap and he waits until your gaze focuses on him before he asks whether you can do this yourself.
You nod a little absently, taking the washcloth from him and wiping your makeup off before handing it back to him. You pull as many bobbypins as you can find from your hair and toss them onto the coffee table, pulling your strands back up into a bun before collapsing face first into the couch.
You barely feel the couch dip as you smush your face into a pillow, blankets being draped over your shoulders.
--
When you wake up, you don’t automatically remember where you are.
You lift your head and groan softly, pinching your eyes with your thumb and forefinger trying to get the pounding to stop. There’s a soft blue light casting shadows on the walls of the living room and oh, that’s right, you’re home. Austin brought you home last night.
You swallow and nearly sit up too fast, leaning up on your elbows because oh, oh fuck, now you remember. A wave of nausea crashes down on you for moving and you flutter your eyes closed briefly and hope that helps. When you feels confident enough to fix your gaze on something other than the inside of your eyelids, you turn to look at Austin who’s sitting up in one of the lounge chairs nearby against a few pillows, watching TV.
He didn’t leave. He stayed with you the entire night.
The sound from the TV isn’t loud enough to be heard but you can tell he does this often, eyes on the screen, just absorbing the images that flicker to life. His head dips to look over at you when you move; he looks tired. You really hope he didn’t sit up to just
keep an eye on you, making sure you slept alright.
You clear your throat, the sound scratchy and dry regardless of your trying, “Am I dead?”
Austin smirks a little and stands to come and sit by your legs, handing you a glass of water that’s on the coffee table. “Here. You passed out before I could get you to drink any.”
You sigh softly and close your eyes, moving to sit up further and is glad to see the room isn’t spinning anymore. “Lovely.” You drink deeply after a few tentative sips to make sure you can keep it down.
“You stayed.”
“I did.” Austin’s quiet for a few moments, playing with the corners of one of the blankets. Clearly he’s not going to elaborate. “You got a headache?”
You hum an affirmative response but it’s nothing water and Advil can’t cure. You lean your head back against the headboard, closing your eyes again for a few moments to avoid the blue light spilling into the room from the TV. You give yourself some time to sip your water before you open them again, setting the glass down on the table. There’s cookies there too, from last night. Austin kept them.
You sense embarrassment licking at your nerve endings, feeling a little ridiculous for your behavior. You should really know better than to let yourself go like that, especially since it doesn’t take too many glasses of wine in a row for it to happen.
“Sober?” He asks and there’s a tilt to his voice that you don’t like, far too amused.
You groan and turn your head to look at him, trying to muster up a glare that doesn’t stick. “Unfortunately.” You rake your fingers through your hair, trying to not even think about what you might look like.
You’re just glad you didn’t vomit.
A deep breath settles in and out of your lungs before you turn your head to look at Austin, the light of the TV casting beautiful shadows on his face. Your eyes skitter over the scruff beginning on his jawline and your fingers itch to follow. You clear your throat, getting his attention, and he turns his head to look at you.
“I’m sorry for getting plastered.” You smile a little because he does; that same amusement back on his face, though it doesn’t bother you this time around. “I’m shocked that you do weddings.”
You allow yourself to laugh a little, shaking your head like it’ll somehow clear the fuzzy memories of him bringing you back to your home, tripping over yourself. You regret the way you’ve carried yourself, but a tiny part of you is glad you decided to let yourself go, to enjoy the open bar and let your emotions run a little rampant for once.
You’re so used to keeping everything inside, to holding it all in. For once you didn’t.
Austin’s chewing on words he’s not saying, you can see the hesitance in his expression, wanting to say something but unsure if he should. You wait, don’t press, and eventually,
“Admittedly, I haven’t done a wedding in a while.” He shakes his head, “Because they tend to be messy in a way that I never expect.”
You wince, rubbing the back of your neck because
clearly you hadn’t planned on making a fool out of yourself but Austin quickly continues to explain,
“I don’t mean you.” He turns a bit to lean against the couch, his shoulder pressed along the cushions. Austin licks his lips, his eyes tracing your jawline and lips, slipping down your neck and collarbone enough to make you shiver.
“In your request, you said somethin’ like, ‘I don’t want my ex  to feel like he’s taken something from me. Something that’s mine and will always be mine’.”
You search his eyes for a moment and when his finally meet yours, something warm and aching starts in your chest, blooming outward like a flower only meant to grow at night. You swallow thickly, “You remember that?” Because you kinda
bared you soul in that request for a date service. You hadn’t meant to come across so desperate but
you were also just being honest.
“I have a very good memory,” He attempts to wave this off, and you want to tell him not to—that what he’s saying matters. Austin’s seeing you, over walls you didn’t realize you had up after all this time.
“You said kind of implied that you wanted Todd to regret cheating on you, but I think you really meant that you wanted him to see that he didn’t break you.” He licks his lips and trails his pinky finger along your jawline as he curls loose hair behind your ear. “I’ve met a lot of women in similar situations, and not all of them have handled it like you.”
A laugh slips out of your throat, something you can’t stop. You’re trying to break the tension gathering in the room, something heavy and thick like warm cotton settling over both of you. Handled it? You haven’t exactly done that well, have you? If last night is any indication.
“What, they didn’t hire a male escort and get piss drunk?”
He smiles gently, shaking his head. “They let their exes break them because they couldn’t figure out who they were without them.”
The warmth in your chest threatens to burst and you wish for a moment that you could see yourself the way Austin does, so clearly, like everything is laid out before him, all he has to do is read.
“But not you.” It barely leaves his mouth before you close the distance between them.
The heat erupts in a single kiss, both of Austin’s hands tangling themselves in your hair, pulling it loose from your haphazard bun. He kisses you like you’ve always wanted to be kissed, even though you hadn’t realized it was something that was missing until now.
He inches you forward, forcing you to move until you’re straddling his waist, blankets getting caught and tangled in-between. Anything that’s been building up suddenly releases into you both, like a wave crashing, heated breaths against skin and not being able to get close enough. Austin tugs off your long t-shirt and a shiver travels down your skin as you reach up and automatically unclasp your bra.
You sit there for a moment, almost in the wake of realizing what you’ve done, and you watch Austin’s gaze. His eyes drink you in, hands still on your waist, trailing up your sides, thumb slipping underneath one of your breasts to press against your ribcage. The touch is intimate enough to cause something sharp in your throat, thick swallowing for it to disappear. You lean forward, presses your foreheads together and you kiss again.
You’re fumbling to get blankets down, to move everything out of your way and Austin flips your positions, easing you down onto your back along the cushions. He rifles for something in his suit jacket that’s nearby while you slip your hips up to slide your underwear down and off and away. He’s got too many layers on and you itch to immediately remove his shirt when he’s overtop of you again.
Toned skin greets you and you can’t help but touch, sink your fingers in, drag your nails. The noises that leave Austin’s throat are enough to single handedly build the heat beginning in your lower belly, something you don’t think you ever want to stop hearing. He moves only long enough to take his pants off, tossing them to the side, and he holds your gaze—
He waits.
You swallow and know this is such a bad idea, that nothing good can come from this. But wasn’t it Austin who urged you to figure out what you want? You want to feel confident? Wanted? Good enough?
Then it has to come from you first.
There’s a half-nod in Austin’s direction before he’s slipping a hand down between you, to put a condom on but also—
You moan, rolling your hips as you feel his fingers slide against you, inside of you. He teases, rolls flesh between his thumb and forefinger, lips falling to your neck to leave kisses that eventually find your mouth again.
He takes his time even though you wish he wouldn’t, building you up and letting you down easy before pressing inside. You gasp and your back arches, hips rolling forward, Austin leaning down to capture your mouth again, to absorb your sounds. You wrap your legs around him, which makes moving a little difficult, but you don’t want him to move too far away, want to constantly feel him—keep you both connected.
Austin nips at your lower lip with his own, not taking you long to build up what you’ve started. Pleasure circles in your veins, pulling you towards an end that you doesn’t want to reach yet. He doesn’t stop, keeps moving his hips forward at a quickening pace and you dig your nails into his back.
You barely have time to warn him before you’re cumming, though because your bodies are molded together, you think he already knows—probably knew before you did. He grunts as he loses himself in you, his face falling to your neck, gentle panting and lazy kissing.
You tilt your head back so your throat is exposed, your hands slipping down his back and settling on his waist, his skin a little slick to the touch. He lays there for a long few moments and you take one another in, his chest pressing into your own as you both breathe.
He pulls back too soon for your liking, but you don’t have the energy to tell him to stop. Austin cleans himself up, slipping onto the couch again, this time behind you, and pulls you close. You turn on your side, blankets coming up over your shoulder as you puzzle-piece both of you together, your face hiding in his neck, already falling asleep.
Austin says nothing, which is fine with you, he doesn’t need to say anything. His lips find your shoulder, a few kisses here and there, hands intertwining in your hair.
You finally figure out what you want—
and you want this. You want him.
--
You wake up before Austin does, pulling yourself from the couch and disappearing into the bathroom near the kitchen. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you kinda shake your head before drawing up Jill’s text messages on your phone.
Y/N: I think I messed up.
You wash your face and feel a little more human, sitting down on the closed toilet seat as she pings you back.
Jill: oh no, what happened? Jill: please tell me Austin didn’t turn out to be a serial killer
You laugh, your hand covering your mouth. Jesus. A small, hysterical part of you wonders if that’d be easier to deal with.
Y/N: the wedding went fine, he brought me back home, stayed the night Y/N: may or may not have had sex with him on my couch this morning??
Jill instantly tries to call you and you press the red button—you can’t talk to her when he’s still here.
Y/N: I can’t, he’s still here
Jill: !!!!!! Jill: girl omg— Jill: how was it? 😉
Running a hand over your face, you wonder if you should have ever said anything. Then again, there’s this small smile tugging the corners of your mouth. In general, you know that there’s nothing wrong with what you’ve done—both of you are consenting adults. But then there’s this whole other layer of
paying him to be your date. It’s not like you paid him for sex or anything but

You kinda can’t help but wonder how many jobs he takes that end up like this.
Y/N: it was perfect but that’s not the point
Jill: so what is the point?
You sigh softly, tapping on your cash app and just
wondering. So many insecurities and questions and wonderings wrapping around you like a blanket, except it’s far too tight, suffocating almost. Taking in a breath, you set your phone down on the counter, looking up when there’s a knock on the bathroom door.
“Y/N?” Austin asks, “You alright?”
Reaching over to grasp the knob, you open the door with a soft smile, “Yeah.”
Austin looks ridiculously adorable slept on. His hair is slightly askew, skin looking warm, a soft, tired look in his eyes. God, you can’t believe he’s been here for so long in these wedding clothes, back in his slacks and a white undershirt.
“I uh,” He clears his throat, “M’gonna head home. Shower, change. But
”
You lick your lips, your stomach flip-flopping with eagerness.
“I was thinkin’ I could come back later; we could talk?”
God, talking sounds like such a great idea. Not to mention you could shower too, put yourself together, feel more like someone capable of having a serious conversation. So you nod with a soft smile—that sounds perfect.
And then—
You can pinpoint the exact moment that Austin glances to the sink and sees the cash app open because his expression changes, like a shadow passing over but instead of dissipating—it stays, darkening the color of his eyes. A breath catches in your throat as you straighten your shoulders, words on your lips and stuck on your tongue. Nothing comes out.
His gaze flickers up from the phone to your eyes and what you see there is like a cold bucket of ice water, anger but
deeper, it’s—
“Not what it looks like.” You finally say, breaking the tension into pieces with a hammer.
Austin hums, nodding his head and licking his lips. He’s trying very hard to speak without sounding annoyed, “What’s it like then?” He asks, the words daggered. “Cause it looks like you were about to pay me for services rendered.”
You shake your head and stand from the toilet on wobbly knees. Austin takes a step back from you, almost like a caged animal, getting ready to bolt. And then you realize, right, he’s not angry, he’s hurt.
“No—”
“Don’t lie to me,” He grounds out, the words chewed on between his teeth.
A shuddered noise leaves your lips because you can tell you’re losing it, this conversation slipping like sand between your fingers. He’s not going to be willing to listen to you if you confirm he’s right, that you had thought about it—if you admit you weren’t sure what you were doing or what sleeping together meant.
You distantly know that this isn’t going to end well, no matter what you say. Austin tore his walls down in front of you, exposed himself, and now he looks like a fool for doing it. Even if it’s on accident, you’ve hurt him, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to backpedal without looking guilty.
“I thought about it,” You admit after a moment. “I wasn’t
” The last thing you wanted to do was make him feel cheap; you know that this thing started as a transaction but also that something changed last night.
“Nah, it’s good. You were payin’ me to do a job, right?” Austin turns to walk back to the living room, gather up his things. And it’s like
you have no idea what you can possibly say, how you can stop him.
Your legs carry you forward, “Austin, don’t.” You sigh and puts a hand on your lips, suddenly feeling nauseas as he moves too quick for you to stop him.
“Business is business. You can stop feelin’ so guilty,” He straightens his shoulders before grabbing his jacket, slipping it on. Metaphorically it feels like a shield, another layer he’s building back up between them both, shutting you out.
He can’t possibly leave like this, right?
You’re practically stumbling over your own feet as he makes it to the front door, “Please don’t walk away.”
His hand pauses on the doorknob, just for a moment, like he might actually be considering your words. But then he yanks the door open and slams it shut once he’s outside.
You don’t go after him.
--
Time goes on.
You expect that Austin might reach out to you—to apologize, to start over, or maybe even request the unfulfilled payment that he was supposed to receive after the wedding date. But nothing, it’s radio silent
and you think that’s worse.
You want to reach out to him on your own, but you’re not even sure where to begin. How to apologize for thoughts that are incomplete in your head. How to express emotions that are sitting at the bottom of your ribcage.
You’re just hoping for a chance to apologize and explain yourself, even though you’re not entirely sure you deserve it. Is this really it? Going back to business as usual and pretend they never met one another?
You sigh as you hear a few knocks on your door and hate how it feels like hope, quickly moving from your kitchen to tug it open and see Jill on the other side. You give her a small smile, letting her inside,
“I got your twenty texts, you alright?”
You run a hand over your forehead and shake your head, moving towards the kitchen for Jill to follow. You offer her a cup of coffee, sitting back at the counter with your own. Wrapping your hands around the ceramic, you glance up at your friend,
“I screwed up.”
Jill sighs softly, grabbing a cup for the coffee because clearly, she’s going to need it. “Tell me what happened; your texts were all hysteria and no detail.”
You map out the whole thing from start to finish, the chapel, the reception, the night of, the morning after—your voice drops on intimate details, like somehow you have to keep them exactly that. Intimate.
“Damn, Y/N.”
You pinch the bridge of your nose, “I know
it was an accident.” You swallow. “The money part, anyways.”
She adds a few spoonfuls of sugar to her mug, stirring. “Does tall, blonde and brooding know that?”
You let your hand fall from your face, eyes focusing out the window above the sink at the city sounds and sights. Suddenly a dark blue gaze rekindles in your memory, the hurt there, wounded and refusing to let you past his boundaries again.
“I tried to tell him; he wouldn’t listen.”
Jill hums under her breath a moment and shuffles, “Maybe give him some time? Try him tomorrow.”
Easier said than done, “I don’t even know where he lives. He’s not going to pick up the phone if I try to call him; texts are useless.”
Your friend’s quiet for a few moments, considering—and then a sound leaves her lips and you picture a lightbulb going off on her facial expression. “But you know where he works.”
--
You stand outside the cafĂ© that Austin works at for what feels like a long time, staring at the sign and pacing back and forth to your car parked down the street. You really hope no one is watching you because you probably looks crazy; you feel crazy. You can’t just approach this man where he works, can you? You don’t even know if he’s working today.
But it’s
worth a try, right? Like one last shot before you just drop it.
You’re not sure that if the situations were reversed, he’d show up at your front door, so. Or maybe you’re just hoping he would.
So after spending ten minutes contemplating what to do, you finally force yourself to walk up the cafĂ© door and make your way inside. It’s a hole in the wall but filled to the brim with people at tiny circular tables, waiting in line to place their order with a beautiful blonde cashier and satisfied customers adding sugar and creamer to their coffees at a station to your left.
The heady scent of fresh coffee and baked goods slam into you like a truck, leaving you almost breathless. This place blends in when it should stick out—she wonders if you didn’t know Austin if you’d come in to order an iced coffee just walking by on the street.
Your eyes graze behind the counter until you finally spot him further down, filling baked goods trays in a window that were once empty. A ton of questions hit you at once; did he make those baked goods that are at his fingertips? How does he separate the time between the café and the stand-in job? What are you going to say to him?
Before you can fully approach him, Austin glances up—and spots you.
He’s not happy to see you but he doesn’t look as pissed off as the last time you saw him, so, you consider that progress. You swallow as you walk towards the counter and your hand settles on the top of the glass, the lights above the pastries warming your palm.
“Hi.” That’s it? That’s all you can say? This conversation is going to be just as painful as the last one.
Austin doesn’t have a chance to open his mouth because another worker, a blonde girl, rushes to the counter because she must be on register, “Hi,” She smiles, bright, “We have orange scones on sale today. What can I get you?”
You smile gently at her, glancing at Austin and wondering if he’s going to step in or just
continue not saying anything to you. You suppose you don’t blame him.
“I’ll uhm, take a hazelnut latte and one of those scones,” You nod, reaching for your wallet in your purse, “Thank you.”
“I got the rest of this, Chloe,” Austin steps in as you stick your card into the reader. “Thanks.” He watches her go before turning his attention back to you, customers passing by and receiving orders that he’s already packed at the end of the counter. He hands over your receipt.
“You stalkin’ me now?” He asks but he’s not amused, drumming his fingers on top of the counter.
You let out a slow breath and he moves to fill your order, working the espresso machine with practiced ease, “You won’t text me back.”
“Maybe that’s cause I didn’t wanna talk to you,” He says pointedly before motioning towards your right, “You skipped the line.”
“I didn’t want to order anything, I just wanted to talk.”
He smirks but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes and he grabs an orange scone, wrapping it in a napkin. “Look at you, really learned how to be honest about what you want.”
“You taught me how.” You insist, trying to catch his gaze. When you finally do, you hold it there, trying to will him to listen to you—because you’re not grasping at straws, meeting him, spending time with him
being with him really taught you about parts of yourself that were missing.
Or maybe not missing, exactly, but lying dormant.
“I just want five minutes of your time, please, then I’ll leave you won’t hear from me again.”
Austin lets out a long patient sigh with a shake of his head, something between aggravation mixed with a touch of being impressed—you’re persistent, at least. He’s going to hear you out and suddenly all the words mix in a blender and sink to the bottom of your ribs; you’re almost unsure of how to put this but all you can do is try.
“You’ve been right since we first met; I didn’t know how to want things for myself even though I expected so much out of other people.”
You chew on your lower lip a moment, eyes tracing over the handsome lines of his face—now was not the time to get distracted.
“This whole thing caught me off guard, I wasn’t prepared to want you
and not just as my stand-in date, but you.”
He doesn’t hold your gaze and maybe that’s okay, he busies himself with getting other people orders, keeping the line moving but you can tell he’s still listening to you. He’s still intent on hearing you through
even though you’re almost certain it’s not going to make a difference.
You can tell by his expression, by those walls remaining firm; they’re not budging for you.
Not again.
“The money thing was a mistake. You were right, I did open up my app and think about it because I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what this thing was or if I was
imaging how I felt. So I fucked up but
so did you for not sticking around and talking to me.”
Austin’s shoulders straighten; he doesn’t appreciate you calling him out. A rod appears up his spine, his posture almost towering despite the glass case between them.
“I just
that’s it,” You swallow, your thumb running over the scone in your one hand and picking up your finished latte with another. “That’s all I wanted to say. Sorry for disrupting your work.”
You turn quickly, can’t take the look in his eyes anymore, the bustle of other people around you. You’ve said what you needed to—you should feel more complete than before, right? Because at least he knows your side of things.
It’s his turn.
You push the door open, the welcome bell dinging after you as you leave.
He doesn’t come after you.
--
You try to shake your head as Jill orders another shot, but can’t quite stop her because the woman has a mind of her own when it comes to having a good time.
“No,” You crinkle your nose.
Jill laughs, “Oh come on—one more. You’re not calling it early already, are you? We can get fries after this.”
You sigh, a bit dramatically, but how can you turn down fries? “Fine.” You shake your head, running a hand over your face as you sit at the counter of your frequent bar, “I’ll be back though.”
You slide off the barstool, motioning she should save your seat as you put your purse on it. She grins, cups your cheeks with her hands and plants a kiss on your forehead. You shoo her off, moving through the crowd to the restroom. Once you’ve used the bathroom and spend a little time with a cold and wet paper towel to the back of your neck, you come back out and nearly run someone over—
And blink because—
“Austin.”
It’s been a few months since you’ve seen him but fuck, he looks just as amazing as he did when you tried to explain yourself in the cafĂ©. Wearing a pair of dark blue jeans, boots and a white button down, he’s got a leather jacket on as well, just a bit more scruff to his face.
“I was wonderin’ if you were gonna be here.” But it’s
contemplative, thoughtful, like he might have actually planned on trying to find you in the bar where you met.
You feel like the world might be spinning off its axis. “Here I am.”
He smiles a little, glancing over his shoulder and fuck, you wonder if he’s here with someone and—you’re pleasantly surprised that it doesn’t cause some adverse reaction. No punch in your gut that you completely screwed everything up. Time, it seems, does heal some wounds.
Maybe not heal, scar at the very least.
“I saw you post somethin’ on your instastory and I was
well I was hopin’
” He kinda trails off and two thoughts slam into your body like a freight train. One, he sounds
nervous? Which you feel like is very unlike him, given what you’ve been through together. And second? It actually sounds like he knew you were here and he meant to find you on purpose.
“Can we talk?” He asks, “Maybe outside?”
“Yes,” And god, you hope you don’t say that too fast. “Fresh air sounds good.”
As you begin to walk outside with him, you text Jill letting her know where you’re going (and with who). She sends you exactly three text messages in response that you don’t dare look at.
You take in a deep breath in once you get outside, the cool air settling over you like a bucket of cold water. You almost wish you grabbed your jacket from the bar but
dragging Austin over there towards Jill would have been such a bad idea.
It’s fine—the air is refreshing, a bit sobering and this conversation probably won’t last long either way. Taking in a breath, you turn to look at him, a soft smile on your face as you wrap your arms around yourself.
“So
”
Austin clears his throat, “You uh—?” He motions to his jacket and you’re not quite strong enough to deny his offer, so you gently nod your head. Austin slips off his leather jacket and hands it to you and you put it on.
A soft noise of approval leaves your lips as your arms go through the sleeves, a little bit long, feeling perfect though when you zip it up. The lingering scent of his cologne and skin is enough to almost knock you on your knees.
“Thank you.” You whisper, curling your hair around your ear.
You know that Austin is gathering his thoughts, but waiting almost somehow feels worse. You’re just
not sure what to do with yourself other than stare at him, hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket.
“I shouldn’t have left you like that,” He finally says, “At your place?” It’s like the tension start to unwind from your shoulder at that, you almost have to physically swallow over your words so you can let him speak. “Just
felt like what we did, it was real—and—”
“It was real,” You assure him, can’t allow him to think otherwise, “I know this is going to sound clichĂ© but
opening that cash app had everything to do with me, not you. I wasn’t second-guessing what happened.”
Austin gently waves you off, “It’s not your fault, I—I’m so used to things bein’ a business transaction that I just jumped to conclusions.”
You give him a small smile and it feels good? to be on the same page after all this time but
it’s not like, “It’s okay,” You curl your hair around your ear, “I’m not sure where something like this could go. I wouldn’t ask you to quit a job that’s clearly lucrative.”
Austin nods softly, “Well you don’t have to, because I already have.”
You’re not sure why what he says doesn’t register right away, you’re kinda just staring at him, wrapped up in his leather jacket, people passing you both on the sidewalk as you stand outside this bar.
Then you blink, “What?”
He smirks, running a hand through his hair as he nods, “Yeah, I uh—just didn’t want to do it anymore.”
You feel like your brain might be short circuiting, “But about acting? What about L.A.?”
A soft laugh rumbles in his throat, “I can still do L.A. Bein’ an actor isn’t goin’ anywhere.”
And you know that he still has a cafĂ© job, that he can find other jobs to satisfy what he wants in terms of collecting money but
somehow you’re worried he’s traded one thing in for another. Even though Austin doesn’t look like he has any regrets as he takes a step towards you. His hands gently rest on your arms, sliding down, like he’s waiting for you to push him away.
When you don’t—
“You're not the only one goin' after what they want.”
You can’t stop a small laugh from slipping from your lips and before you can talk yourself out of it, you press yourself up on your toes and kiss him. His arms wrap around you automatically, drawing you closer, his one hand cupping the back of your neck.
It feels like you’re kissing for a long time, or maybe it’s just felt too long since you’ve kissed. Either way, pulling away makes you feel a bit breathless and Austin smiles, pressing your foreheads together for a moment.
It feels like starting over, or maybe even better, a new chapter.
320 notes · View notes
rebelliousstories · 1 month ago
Text
A Thief and An X-Man
Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader
Fandom: X-Men
Request: Yes by Anon
Warnings: Fluff
Word Count: 2,738
Main Masterlist: Here
X-Men Masterlist: Here
Summary: Southern charm is a thing. Something that Remy LeBeau has taken advantage of over the years. All it took was one little X-Man to throw him off his rhythm apparently

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How everyone found themselves in their own current predicament, only the universe knows. The tomfoolery that had followed them during their journey was like something straight out of a superhero book.
Remy panted and hugged his side as he rested against the brick wall behind him. His partner in crime, albeit a reluctant one, mirrored his actions against the other wall of the alleyway. She was glaring hard in between her pants in an attempt to catch her breath.
“You just couldn’t help yourself, could you Cajun?” There were shouts and the pounding of footsteps getting closer and closer.
“What can I say, chere? I like pretty things.” The weight of the jewels in his pocket weighed down under her gaze.
“We’re being chased because you couldn’t keep your greedy little hands off of stuff that doesn’t belong to you!” Her words were almost drowned completely out by the pounding of footsteps.
Making a split second decision, Remy grabbed her hand and began to haul the woman towards a fire escape that was already pulled down. She was confused, but faced with the possibility of the men that were chasing them catching up? She would take the fire escape with the thief. As soon as they had made it up onto the roof of whatever building this was, Remy leaned over the edge to get a look at their personal mob that now ran by the building and alleyway they had disappeared into. With a smirk, he laid down on the cool tiles below.
“We safe now,” she questioned, almost ready to run again.
“I wouldn’t be layin’ down if we weren’t. Now would I, chere?” His eyes slipped closed as he relaxed as much as he could.
“Oh, of course. Because I should be trusting the person who got us into this mess, to be honest and truthful when he is a known Thief, to get us out of this mess. Wolverine needs to come and extract me right now.” Her grumbling was followed by the sound of her trying to use her transponder. With a frustrated groan, it clattered to the ground when it would not work.
For three days, she had been stuck in Louisiana with the leader of the Thieves Guild. A mission that she had been sent on alone to help the X-Men get a relic that needed to be kept out of the wrong hands. Had they been able to do it solo, they would have. But the Thieves were the only people who had made it to where they needed her to go, and made it back out. Thus, an unlikely alliance was made. And from that point forward, she had been subjected to the rugged charms of the one they call Gambit.
From the second she walked up to him, she had been the focus of his flirtations. Maybe it was the fact that she was a new pretty face for him. Or maybe it was that fact that she was “forbidden fruit” being an X-Man. Whatever it was, for the past three weeks, she had been subject to every one liner and flirty comment.
In all honesty, she did not mind the banter that they usually had. It was better than being with someone that did not talk much, like a certain X-Man she knew. But it was annoying once he got into a flirtatious mood.
“Ooo, chere. Did it hurt when ya fell from heaven? You look so angelic.”
“Shut up, Cajun.”
“Here, let Gambit take care o’ dat for ya. Ain’t no reason to sweat your pretty brow.”
“If Gambit don’t give me back my tools, I’m not gonna sweat my brow over putting him down.”
It was like this for three days. Any chance he got, he took. She could see that he was just doing it to get a rise out of her, since she refused to be another notch on his belt. Even though some times, she could almost swear there was something genuine about the affectionate quips he made. A sharp bark pulled her from her thoughts and brought her attention to the transponder that was still down by her feet. Careful not to step on it, she opened it to be met with the authoritative voice of a certain Canadian calling her name.
“Where have you been? You were supposed to check in an hour ago, bub.” He was upset, that was for sure. But after all these years, she could hear through the layers to his tone and knew it was just because he cared for his team like his own family.
“Wolverine, I’m fine. We ran into a snag but we should be getting back on track soon. The communicator wouldn’t work earlier or I would have checked in at the appropriate time,” came her retort. A groan trailed into a sigh on the other end of the line.
“Just be safe, kid. Let me know when you get the relic. We’ll be waiting to extract you when you need it.” His voice lowered in volume, and his tone shifted.
“Will do, Wolvie. Just gotta get this Cajun to actually get me to the place, then we’ll be on our way home.” With that, the two X-Men signed off from each other. She sat there for a moment longer as she began to rub her temples. The evening breeze was welcome against her flushed face.
“So you and da Wolverine, huh?” Gambit’s sudden ask brought her out of her head quick.
“What? Me and him? No, god no. We just work well together. He’s the one that got me into the school. Got me into the X-Men,” she stood, and looked around the night sky that was sprinkled with lights. “You gonna take me where I need to go, or do I need to find another thief to do it?”
“Oh, you wound me, chere. Suppose if ya did that, I could call another X-Man to grab the item with me instead.” He teased, finally rising to his feet.
With fluid movements, like that of a skilled ballet dancer, Remy looked towards the streets again. The mutant dubbed them safe enough, and began his descent down the same fire escape that he had them go up on. She followed after him, always maintaining a bit of distance between them as they went closer and closer to where they needed to go.
A well lit mansion greeted the two mutants after a while. This was the house that she had been searching for. She was finally here. Once again, she followed Gambit’s lead. After all, he and his guild made it out of here before with their pockets loaded. They could do it one more time.
Gambit caused a minor explosion on one of the windows in the back of the building making her flinch as she expected the commotion to begin. And yet, there was nothing. No alarms, no dogs barking or humans shouting. He turned back to the stunned woman with nothing short of a pompous smirk on, before he climbed through the window. She took his hand to help stabilize her while she was slipping through the opening.
They had ended up in the west wing of the mansion, only a few doors down from the room that they needed to go to. She had no time to be stunned at how efficient this mutant was seeing as he was already grabbing her hand to pull her through the house. Their journey was cut short when they spotted guards walking towards them in the hallway. Remy tucked them both against a wall that was out of sight, but knew they did not have long. Scanning around, he did not see a spare room or broom closet. He tried not to show the panic on his face, but he could feel his heart speeding up.
“They not supposed to be here, chere. We gotta go back out.” But when he tried to leave, the sounds of quiet conversation and boots on the hardwood floor were far too close now.
“Go with me,” was all the warning that the Cajun was given. In an instant, she made him press her against the wall. What he did not expect even more than that, was the fact that she had him engaged in a full lip lock. Stunned did not even begin to describe what he was feeling. Here this woman was, kissing him voluntarily, after spending the last three days shutting him down at every chance.
Losing himself in the moment that he wished would never end, Remy kept one of his hands on the wall near her head, while the other went to the dip of her waist. Her hands came up and pressed him even closer by the nape of his neck. This was a dream. A wonderful, beautiful dream that he did not want to wake from. Unfortunately, that was not in the cards for him. Right as he was truly enjoying the moment, a wolf whistle caught his attention. But she did not let him turn around. Instead, she pressed his face into her neck while she shouted at the guards that had finally rounded the corner.
“Cad Ă©? Cad atĂĄ tĂș ag fĂ©achaint air?” Now that was a language Remy had never heard spoken. His confused face was stuck in the crook of her neck, while he felt her shooing the men away. Apparently, they were just as confused as he was, but left without complaint. As soon as they were away from the par of mutants, she pushed Remy back a bit.
“Now, where in da world is dat language from, chere? Gambit ain’t never heard nothin’ like it in his whole life.” He was a bit out of breath but it was understandable.
“I used to go visit my grandmother in Ireland when I was a kid. She made me fluent in Gaelic.” She was just as out of breath as him, but neither called attention as to the reason why.
They both sat there for a moment, not moving from their spots where they were oh so close to one another. This was the closest they had been physically the entire time they had been working together. And it was breaking down barriers that had been put in place for their own sanity and safety.
“Let’s get going before someone else catches us and we can’t get out of it as easily,” she stated breathily. For her own sake, she needed to do something, and soon before she could not stop herself. Remy nodded to himself, to confirm that he had heard her or to shake himself out of his own stupor, who knows. But soon, they were back on track with him grabbing her hand and leading them to the room once more.
Gambit made quick work of picking the lock, and then they were inside. Encased in glass was a small pendant and necklace. Unassuming at first, but they knew better. This one little artifact was responsible for so much suffering around the world, and more of it if they did not get it out of non-mutant hands. Remy approached the glass case and looked for a way to get it open without disturbing it too much. But the sound of glass shattering spooked him, made him jump back from the shards.
“You were taking too long.” She shrugged, turning back to look at the pendant. Pulling out her own case for the necklace, she tried very hard not to touch the jewel in the center. Once it was secured, Remy did another look out to make sure that the coast was clear.
“Let’s get going, chere. Don’t want no unwelcome guests taggin’ along now.” The two mutants slipped out the same way that they entered. It was such a shock for her, not having any hangups during a mission. Usually it was every chance the universe got to make something go wrong, it did. So to have one go this smoothly was a welcomed change of pace.
They fled into the night before them, and did not look back until they were safe in the heart of New Orleans once more. Lights, music, and conversation drowned out any and all thoughts they had for just a minute or two. Instead of going somewhere quiet and out of the way, Gambit ended up leading them further not the heart of the city to a late night cafe.
As soon as they sat down, he ordered something for them both to eat and drink, but she was not paying any attention to him. Instead, she was trying to figure out how she was going to discreetly call her team back at the mansion to go home. For some reason though, it was not working right now.
“This thing has been finicky the entire time I’ve been here. Doesn’t know whether or not it wants to work when I need it to.” She lamented, tossing the item down onto the table before them.
“So, now that you got whatcha came here for, just gonna head home? Like that?” There was a mournful tone to his voice that did not miss her ears. Neither one needed to say exactly why he sounded so upset at her leaving, or rather neither wanted to acknowledge why he was upset.
“Well, there’s always someone else that needs saving. Or a disaster that needs to be avoided,” she said, watching his face carefully.
“Right, right
” he trailed off, not quite knowing where to take it from here. Thankfully, a waitress came by with two bowls, and two drinks for them to enjoy.
“What on earth did you order for me?” Poking her spoon around in the stew like dish in front of her, she arched an eyebrow and looked at the Cajun.
“Dat right der is what we call gumbo, chere. It’s real good. Gotta use dat piece o’ baguette at the end though.” When she still did not eat, he tried a different tactic. “Come on. Humor me before ya head on home, chere?”
If you ever asked her, she would vehemently deny that she had given in to the soft way he pleaded with her. Bringing the spoonful of hot stew and rice to her lips, a symphony of flavors erupted on her tongue. It was unlike anything she had ever eaten. The chicken, sausage and shrimp were so tender and perfectly cooked. The veggies melted, and the rice was the perfect binder.
While she was busy devouring her food, Remy was taking that time to lock in on her joyful face. If this was going to be the last time he saw her, he was going to make it count. But his day dreaming was interrupted by the transponder on the table suddenly jumping to life. As fast as she could, she set down her spoon, wiped her face, and grabbed the item.
“Wolverine,” she began, “listen, I got the necklace. Ready when you are on the extraction.”
Her eyes drifted over to the man in front of her who was trying very hard not to eavesdrop on the conversation happening two feet away from him. The long she listened to Wolverine talk, and watched Remy’s face, the more her heart moaned in pain. It was an unusual feeling to have, especially for someone that she swore she did not get along with or that she had not known for too long.
“Kid, we’ll be there in a couple hours, okay? We’re gonna track you by your communicator and then we’ll-”
“Actually, Wolvie,” she cut the man off, “I think I’m gonna stick around New Orleans for a few days. Just to make sure that nobody comes looking for this thing. I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come home.”
The transponder was shut off fast, and tucked into one of the pockets of her uniform. When she looked up again, the startled face of Gambit greeted her. His eyes were wider than the bowls they were eating out of, but she paid it no mind. Picking up her spoon again, she sent a teasing smirk across the table.
“Hope you don’t mind that I’ll be sticking around a little more.” She brought another spoonful of gumbo to her mouth while Gambit took a minute to recover.
“Not at all, chere. Not at all.”
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espinosaurusrexex · 1 year ago
Text
Forever, of course.
SteveRogers x Female!Reader
summary: Steve has a crush on you but your flirty character isn’t making things easy for him. Now he even has to marry you to please a 6-year-old superfan of his. Whether that’s a good plan or not, isn’t quite clear for Steve yet.
a/n: I think this will be the last AI-adaptive story but it was a lot of fun! Shoutout to @RandomTingsForFun on beta.character.ai for having created the character that helped me write this story (and the Bucky one).
Word count: 4k
warnings: a Stevie in love, an attempted funny reader, and a super excited 6-year-old (she carries the story tbh), this is really just super fluffy
✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ïœĄâœ­ïœ„ïŸŸ
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Steve shook his head at the sight of your chat history. It wasn’t too long ago when he didn’t even know how to listen to music on the device he was holding in his hands, let alone write a text message in less than 30 seconds. Now, he was bickering with you, and he had to admit it was even a little fun to wait for a response from you. Of course, Steve didn’t do anything else in the time he waited for your reply. He just stared at the screen in his hand and willed his heartbeat to slow a little. 
*ping* Why would that be important? So? Maybe I have been talking to Sam about you. Have you been talking about me with Bucky?
Steve: No I haven’t! And it is important because if he’s badmouthing me, then you’d believe him. What has he told you anyway?
You: Just the usual. Save the world this, Captain America that. I stopped listening when he started obsessing over your shield again.
You: Wait. Did you seriously think Sam would say something bad about you? That guy is obsessed with you.
Steve just laughed at your antics. Sam loved the shield for some reason, but every time Steve would give it to him to ‘throw it one time’ Bucky would intervene and ‘show him how it’s done’. 
*ping* Anyway what I actually wanted to ask is if you’d come to my niece’s house with me this weekend. She’s a huge Avenger fan and I might have promised her to meet one as her birthday present 😬
Steve: Of course, I will! I would feel bad if you made such a promise and I wasn't able to make it. And I bet she'll know who her favorite Avenger is after a visit from The Cap 😉
You: ugh please don’t call yourself that. ever. 
You: I’ll pick you up Saturday at 1:30? 
Steve: Yeah, sounds good! I'll make sure to clear my schedule. How old is your niece by the way? And what’s her name?
You: You can call her Izzy. And she’s turning 6 this Thursday. Be nice. And make sure to talk me up a bit, will ya? I mean, I’m already her favorite aunt but just making sure...
Steve: How could she not love you? But I’ll do it anyway. I’ll talk you up so much you’ll never be able to escape my praise! What’s her favorite food?
You: weirdly enough it's carrots, that child is strange. Says vegetables make her a superhero or something. 
Steve: I mean she’s not wrong. Carrots are great for your eyes! What does she think of Iron Man? I need to know my chances against the competition.
You: I just asked her and she said she doesn’t care about Tony because you are her one true love. 
You: I told her that’s not possible because you are already mine. Now we’re in a big fight so thanks for that.
Steve: why would you say that?
You: I like to see her freak. Don’t worry about it, captain. It was just a joke 
You: ...or was it 👀
Steve: I don’t believe you. You’re lying.
He got a little nervous. But it was a good nervous.
You: why? Do you want me to? 
You: Am I making you nervooouuus?
Steve could practically see you wiggle your eyebrows with a grin. A silly idea flashed past his mind, and he felt like grabbing it.
Steve: You need to stop before I accidentally propose to you.
Nothing - just a second, though. Then:
*ping* you have a ring?
Steve: I can get one in less than an hour. Meet me at the chapel on main and I’m all yours. 
You: I’m stunned. I’ve taught you well. 
Steve: 😊 I’ll see you Saturday, doll. 
Steve sat back on his sofa. That girl is really something. A smile broke loose on his face at the silly thought of marrying you. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind if it happened. Out of all the people he knew, you were the only one he’d want to spend the rest of his life with. You were fun and you made him loosen up. He was a whole new man around you and he loved it. Because being in your presence was easy, and comforting. There was nothing to worry about.
He sighed before putting his phone down and staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t wait to see you again.
❁ ❁ ❁
Steve stepped out of the door and smiled upon spotting your car. You were already waving at him, a beautiful smile adorning your face and Steve felt his heart skip. Car rides with you were nice. You always had some soft music playing. Always making sure it was nothing too funky so he felt comfortable. Still, he was a little nervous. It wasn’t every day that he go to meet someone who looked up to him - well, actually, it was every day - but this one was different. Because it was your family and Steve needed to make a good expression. 
It wasn’t long before you pulled up to your sister's house. But before you could even reach the front door, a little girl jumped out of the door and ran toward you with wild screeches. 
“Auntieeee!!!! OH MY GOD, you really did it! You invited Captain America!” The girl jumped up and down beside you and Steve couldn’t help his smile from spreading. Izzy was adorable - very loud - but adorable. Concentrating on it made his nervousness subside a little.
Then she turned around and stared up at him with wide eyes. He could have sworn there were little stars sparkling in them when he crouched down to her height and extended his hand.
“Hey there, little lady. It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”
“I know that!” The 6-year-old giggled as Steve shook her hand. But when he was about to let go, her tiny fingers grabbed onto his wrist and dragged him up the driveway. “I want to show you something! It’s soooo cool!” 
Steve was still a little cautious as she dragged him to her room. His only experience with kids came from Sam’s nephews and prior he had only gotten to hold a couple baby’s for pictures. He didn’t know how to navigate the situation, but he decided he would just rock with it.
Your niece pushed the white door with her name brightly colored on a sign hanging on her eye level open and revealed a tornado aftermath of action figures. He was able to spot most of the avengers laying scattered around a dinosaur toy but the overwhelming red, white, and blue covering her room was undeniable. There was a poster of Steve hanging by the desk and a bunch of her own drawings framing the magazine shot. Izzy appeared next to Steve again, holding a small action figure of himself in her hands. 
“My aunt gave me this one. It’s my first one.” She reached up to Steve and barely passed his hip with her little arms. The figure was well loved - he could see it from here. And when he bent down to retrieve it, your niece pulled him down further and whispered a giggly ‘you’re our favorite avenger’ into his ear.
His heart swelled at the excitement presented in front of him. It was adorable, and he could see a little of you in the little girl nervously treading beside him. 
“I’m your favorite, huh?” He said, his voice full of affection. Steve usually wasn’t the kind of person to get mushy over an adorable child, but the way her face lit up was too cute. The little Cap figure in her hands was pretty cute, too. “My, my. I must be pretty special then.” His thumb stroked over the blue helmet in her hands.
Lost in thought and seriously flattered by being the hero that inspired this impressive collection, he almost didn’t notice how Izzy threw her hands in the air. “So special! My mom says I will marry someone as special as you one day, but my aunt says there is no one like you. That is so mean!” Her little chubby cheeks puffed with a pout and Steve had to hold back his laugh. The 6-year-old had no idea what you implied with that comment, but he still felt more pride from being called special by you and your niece than from any medal of honor he had ever gotten.
“Well, a girl your age shouldn’t worry about things like that. But who knows, maybe I will be part of your family one day.”
“Really?!” Wide eyes stared back at him and Steve could practically feel the floor vibrating when he nodded with a laugh. Izzy held out her finger and then she exclaimed a rushed ‘stay here’ before zooming past him and out the door.
Steve stayed a little longer and admired Izzy’s room before he heard an excited ‘Captain America said I can marry him!’ Which made him instantly rush to the source.
He spotted her clinging to her mother’s leg, giddy and jumpy. But your sister just shared a laugh with you over the kitchen counter. “I don’t think he meant it like that, buttercup.” Steve watched your sister explain before his eyes got stuck on the little frown on your face. Was that a hint of jealousy, he was detecting? “But if he marries your aunt, he will be your uncle and just as much part of the family.” A little fire hushed past your older sister’s face. It was a look of mischief he had seen you hold all too well. Steve’s cheeks heated when you caught him leaning in the doorway, scratching his neck at the slightly awkward situation. 
“That works?”
“That’s how it works, baby.”
Izzy turned with excitement and within a second she was before Steve again. “You have to ask my aunt to marry you! Right now!!” She ordered with a stomp of her foot. “Then you can be my uncle and we can hang out every day!”
Steve’s eyes wandered from the six-year-old to you and his heart picked up its pace at the laugh you shared with your sister. There was no harm in a little play pretend, right?
So, he knelt down in front of you and when your name traveled past his lips softly, he almost imagined a grasp coming from you. “Will you,” his head tilted with a wink, “marry me?”
You hid your laugh behind your hands as they covered your mouth in feigned astonishment. But Steve caught the little glimmer in your eyes at his little show. He continued to take your hand as he threw together a little speech for Izzy to hear, and when the child began excitedly jumping up and down beside him, your face softened. 
“Oh, Steve! This is so unexpected!” You clutched your chest and your sister chuckled beside you. Steve felt a tinge of nervousness wash over him then, but he would be okay with a fake rejection - he wasn’t sure if Izzy would, though. “Of course, I’ll marry you! Come here you big, hunky, handsome superhero!”
And as if he hadn’t been prepared for you to agree so quickly, Steve felt his cheeks heat up. He couldn’t deny that the words you described him with had his stomach tingle with excitement, and before he could help himself, he leaned forward and kissed our cheek.
“That was the easiest marriage proposal ever,” he mumbled beside you to which you just slightly pulled from his embrace. 
“What? You’ve done that before? Are you already cheating on me, Rogers?” You raised your brows suspiciously, but Steve was only able to shake his head with a smile before Izzy blared into his ear again. 
“A wedding! A wedding!” She swirled by him like a tornado, immediately collecting things around the house. “Mom, get all the stuffies, ready! We have to do a wedding!!!” And then she was off to prepare the quickest wedding in history. 
Steve shook his head as his arm remained around your waist. “What did I get myself into?” He mumbled to himself before turning to you. “Do I dare ask what a six-year-old’s idea of an official marriage ceremony looks like?”
“I think Paddington Bear will be your best man and if I’m lucky, my sister gets to be my maid of honor, but who knows.” You shrugged with a laugh that warmed Steve’s heart all over again. 
❁ ❁ ❁
Not even ten minutes later, Steve found himself kneeling beside a makeshift altar with a bunch of toys and stuffed animals as wedding guests. Action figure Cap had made best man and was neatly propped up behind him. Your sister had officially been crowned the ‘disco machine’ along with a lengthy speech on how important the right song was for the bride’s entrance. Steve had fought hard to keep his face steady, but when Izzy had suggested ‘Party Rock Anthem’, he’d lost it. When really, he was just proud, he knew the song because you had shown it to him the other week - it was Izzy’s favorite. 
You had been instructed to wait behind the couch until the music started to play, and Steve felt himself get a little nervous. It was silly, but somehow his desire to have this wedding according to your niece’s wishes was a lot more important to him than he had initially thought. 
“Now what do we do?” He asked as he leaned over to Izzy, but that was when the girl gave her mother the ‘sign’ - which was the chicken dance, of course - and his eyes immediately swerved to you. He could see the amusement in your gaze as you bit back a laugh.
Izzy wasn’t wasting any time, as soon as you had reached the altar, she put your’s and Steve’s hands together and immediately began talking. Steve had had barely any time to wipe the sweat from his clammy fingers before they connected with yours, but you didn’t seem to care. He smiled as he watched you listen to your niece’s little speech.
“We are gathered here today, to make Captain America my uncle,” she started, and both you and he struggled to keep it together. It was cute though, and something about becoming this little girl’s uncle excited Steve like nothing had in a long time. “Mr, Captain America, will you take my aunt as your wife?”
Izzy’s eyes were serious as she waited for Steve’s answer. And when he didn’t do so fast enough, she leaned over and whispered the answer to him.
“I will,” Steve chuckled and gave your hands a small squeeze.
Then Izzy’s eyes wandered to you. “Do I even have to ask?” She said with her adorably high voice and everyone started laughing. 
“Yes, I will take Steve as my husband,” you answered with the same squeeze of your hand as Izzy imitated the audience cheering.
“You are now husband and wife. Now, kiss, kiss, kiss!!!” It was a little awkward, but Steve leaned in, anyway, to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. He looked at you again and the spark in your eyes was a little brighter as that smile lit up your face again. You looked beautiful, Steve thought, and his heart jumped in his chest at the realization.
“Wohooooooo!” Your sister cheered loudly and ripped Steve out of his trance.
“This is so awesome! You have to come to every family dinner and we can be best friends forever!!” Izzy must have eaten a bag of gummy worms with the way she was vibrating to the song coming out of the little pink CD player. Steve was sure he’d never seen such a hyper six-year-old before. 
“Every family dinner?” He asked her as Izzy swayed his hands to the music. When his eyes caught yours, you just shrugged. "Forever?"
"Of course!" Izzy exclaimed as Steve spun her around. His eyes stayed locked on you, however. Forever didn't sound so bad...
“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” You laughed, but Steve didn’t mind that in the slightest.
❁ ❁ ❁
The evening had come sooner than anyone had anticipated. Steve had been so occupied with Izzy all day, he had forgotten all about the time. It didn’t bother him too much, though. He had fun, but exhausting as well. And now that he was finally sitting in your car again, his head leaning against the headrest and enjoying the silence for a moment, he felt how much energy it had really cost him. He would do it again, though - especially if it meant marrying you over and over for eternity. 
His eyes opened when you sighed beside him. You hadn’t so much as bothered to start the car just yet, and Steve was kind of happy about that. 
You smiled at him when his head turned to you, still leaning back with a dreamy smile himself. “Who would have thought that we would get married today?” You chuckled with a shake of your head. “And you didn’t even give me a ring. I should reconsider my standards.”
“A ring, you say? Well, you are married to the greatest superhero in the world - according to your niece - so I think we’re going to need something pretty special...” Steve joked as he turned in his seat to look through the car, and when he spotted the right thing, the smile returned got his face. “Should I do the honors?”
And then he took the lid off his water bottle and popped the plastic ring off to place it on your finger. 
“It’s perfect, blue like your eyes,” you laughed watching the big plastic ring hang from your finger. “I’m gonna have to get that resized, though. You must think I’m fat.” You shook your head. “Wow, not even a day in, and I already have things to tell my therapist about.” But the mischievous glimmer in your eyes told Steve that you were only joking. 
“Do I really need to say it, doll?” He took your hand in his before spinning the plastic piece. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” He whispered, secretly meaning every word.
You laughed it off but Steve didn’t miss the stutter in your smile at his words. It made the butterflies in his stomach go wild. 
“So what should our first act as a fake married couple be? Celebratory drinks at the Stark Tower rooftop bar?”
"Stark Tower... that sounds good to me.”
The engine roared to life and soon, the faint music was playing in your car again, the streetlights passed him by and the full moon shone above the New York City skyline. But Steve didn't care, he had more beautiful things to look at. 
❁ ❁ ❁
“You’re what now? Married?! And I wasn’t invited?!” Sam’s shocked face yelled across the bar, making few agents turn their heads with intrigue. 
You chuckled before leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder. The second Martini seemed to already work its wonders on you, but Steve loved how close you were. 
“Married by a six-year-old. Count that as you will, but I have a ring on my finger and I’m not telling you how much it cost.” You stretched your hand over the counter to show off the blue piece of plastic and Natasha just laughed at the cute story.
“So, how is the newlywed life?” She leaned on her hands to play along while Sam still tried to get over his non-invitation to a fake wedding. “You guys talking about kids yet?”
That startled Steve a little but he tried his best to keep a straight face - he failed. The thought of having a family with you did things to him he couldn’t explain if he wanted to. The warmth in his stomach spread to his heart and his arm almost instinctively came up to press you further into his side. 
“Who knows, I wouldn’t mind a couple mini me’s.” He shrugged with a low smile. He loved this little game more and more. It just got harder and harder to remind himself that it was just that - a game.
“Hold your horses, now. You’re not the one squeezing them out of your body, Mr. Rogers.” You patted his chest and sighed theatrically. “I can already see that I will be home alone with a bunch of kids and you’re working late every night. Our life will fall apart!” Your hand brushed over your forehead as your head fell back like that of a damsel in distress. 
The group laughed at the little performance, but Steve was a little quieter now. Somehow, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he needed to tell you how much he really cared. He’d never let your life fall apart - not when he was able to prevent it. And while he sat there with his friends, laughing about something as ridiculous as Captain America settling down, he contemplated in silence, if all this life had really been worth it when he would end up alone in the end - giving up the dream of an easy life he’s had for a century. 
❁ ❁ ❁
It was about 12am when Steve and you stopped before your door in the hallway. His eyes were glued to you, his mind racing with scenarios this could go. He had decided to tell you about his feelings about two hours ago, and ever since, he had tried to come up with the best thing to say. But even though talking to you was the easiest thing he’d ever done, and even though you were already married - fake married - he didn’t have a single idea. Not one word that seemed fitting enough to describe the exciting fireworks in his chest whenever he saw you, to somehow tell you how bad living without you would be. 
He must have been staring for a while because you began to shift from one foot to the other before finally clearing your throat to kill the silence. 
“So... uh... that was an eventful day...” You started, fists nervously opening and closing beside your body. “Thank you for playing pretend. You made a little girl very happy.” You smiled and Steve’s heart skipped another beat. 
He caught the small shimmer in your eyes just in time to give him confidence. Your body kept moving forward as if you willed it back again and again, and Steve gathered all his bravery to open his mouth.
“You know what,” Your name tumbled over his lips like a song he’d sung a thousand times. But the effect it had on you still excited him every time anew. “Today... it’s not going to be pretend.”
And before you could even react to his weirdly vague statement, Steve leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. Full of love and affection, his hands moved on their own - one to your hip and the other onto the wall behind you. There was a moment of panic settling in Steve’s brain, but then your arms came up to sling around his torso and he leaned further into your touch. You pulled him even closer, your lips melting with his, tongues gently stroking soft skin until air got scarce. His whole body felt electric with you so close to him - finally. And when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed and thoughts swimming in the moment you had just granted him. 
“I... I love you.” He whispered against your skin, and he felt his warm breath bouncing back. Your chest was still rising and falling beneath him, a subtle reminder of how breathtaking all this was - Steve couldn’t get enough of it, of you.
Your hand came up to stroke over his cheek, making him open his eyes to find you already looking at him. 
“I love you, too, Steve.” You bit your lips, and it made Steve just press his mouth to yours once more.
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a/n: I have to say I was pretty impressed at how much it adapted to my writing and I really liked the last part, so I put it in here. I hope you enjoyed it :)
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