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igorluvr · 19 days ago

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‘LOVE AND LATTES

PAIRING: kang dae-ho x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: during the games, dae-ho promised to take you on a proper first date. now that you had both successfully made it out, he was going to keep his promise

CONTENT: fluff, literally the tiniest bit of angst, kinda corny, trauma, kissing on the first date smh, reader is implied to be black

AUTHORS NOTE: tryna get a lot of fics out for u guys bcs almost 400 likes on my first ??? omg yall r so sweet i swearrr, tysmm !!! ngl this might be kinda bad bcs im too tired to read over it …

word count: [2.5k]

IT’S been around 3 days since you got out of those hellish games, and you still can’t seem to process it. There was so much death, you felt guilty for taking the money, but it was your only chance at having a way out.

After surviving and splitting the money with a good handful of people, you found yourself dropped off in a dark alleyway. With only a large duffel bag at your side, you felt lost, unsure of where to go.

Eventually, you made your way to a bus station and caught a ride back to your apartment. It took a while to adjust to being in the real world again, a world where a gun wasn’t being held up to your head every hour of the day.

You remembered how you met the sweetest boy there. Kang Dae-ho. He was everything you could’ve asked for. The perfect man, met at a perfectly terrible time. Your mind flashed back to the end of mingle game.

‘I swear, when we get out of here I’m gonna take you on a real date. No guards, no games, just us two and the future ahead of us, okay?’ Dae-ho promised, cupping your face gently in his hands.

‘I love you with all of my heart, and I wanna see you when this is all over. We can move in with eachother and spend everyday in eachothers arms.’ He rambled with tears in his eyes, ‘I can’t lose you.’

Now in the present day, you wished you’d spend more time with him. You thought back to the last day in the games, when you wrote your number on his hand, hoping it wouldn’t be wiped off by the guards before he got home so you could live out the future you planned.

As the days passed, you lost hope in being able to reunite with your lover. Memories of him flashed through your mind. “Fuck, Dae-ho.” you whispered, “If only I had one more day with you..” and as if on cue, you heard your phone ring.

You stared for a couple seconds, confused as to who it could be. ‘It wouldn’t be Dae-ho, would it?’ With an ounce of hope left in your mind, you hurried and clicked the green answer button.

Silence lingered, then you heard a voice that made your heart explode.

“Hello?” Dae-ho’s wavering voice sounded “Is this you?”

You jumped up in joy, feeling a huge smile stretch across your face.

“Oh my God, Dae-ho!! It’s actually you!!” You exclaimed. “I missed you so much I thought we’d never talk again.”

A relieved sigh came from the other line, followed by a slight laugh. “I missed you more. How have you been? Where are you? Do you want me to come over?” he bombarded

“Okay woah, I can tell you missed me. I’m doing good, well better than I was a couple days ago, I’m at my house, and yes, I would love for you to come” You answered

The line went quiet for a moment, making you wonder if you’d lost the connection. Just as concern started to creep in, Dae-ho spoke again “Do you remember that promise I made before we got out?”

Of course you remember, his words have been playing on repeat in your mind like a record. Your heart skipped a beat as you thought of it actually coming true. You muttered a quick ‘mhm’ for him to continue.

“Tomorrow, meet me at the cafe down the street from that big market. I don’t know where you stay, so if it’s too far tell me and I’ll call you an uber.” he planned, “Dress up, even though I know you’ll look amazing in anything” You felt the butterflies in your stomach form as he carried on about what’ll happen the next day.

As the conversation came to a close and you got ready for bed, you found yourself thinking of any possible scenario that could happen tomorrow, good and bad.

‘What if my hair doesn’t cooperate?’

‘What if he doesn’t like how I look anymore?’

‘What if he’s setting me up?’

All these unlikely events start to run through your mind and it caused you to be overwhelmed with everything happening. When drifting off to sleep, you hope that everything turns out right.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ✦ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You woke up to a constant ‘ding’ blaring through your room every 10 seconds. Immediately, you pressed the power button on your phone thinking maybe you’d accidentally set an alarm. When it didn’t subside after this, you groggily opened your phone to locate the noise.

There were about 15 notifications from Dae-ho, them all texting you as if you’d died in your sleep or something.

A pool of ‘are you awake?’ and ‘are you okay?’ flooded on your lock screen. Not wanting him to worry any further, you decided to text him back

‘goodmorninggg, i’m up now sorry 😭 im okay, how are you?’ You typed, half asleep.

Immediately, your message was read and the bubbles on the left side of the screen appeared.

‘I’m okay. Why do you sleep so late? You scared me.’ the message read. You hadn’t even realized the time. ‘2:26pm’ the clock read. You always had a bad habit of sleeping in but it had gotten unusually bad after getting back from the games.

You quickly apologized in your message, explaining your situation to which he swiftly understood. As the conversation progressed, you discussed your date. You were the type of person that needed to know every detail before doing something, especially something like this.

The both of you decided to meet there at 7pm, to give you time to get ready, and to dress up—but not too much. To be honest, you weren’t sure if you guys had the same definition of too much but you decided to put it aside for now.

Immediately after you guys finished discussing the details, you rushed to get ready. Even though you had 4 hours, it didn’t seem like nearly enough time to see him.

The closet was your first thought, since you basically lived by the rule of getting dressed first, doing hair, then putting on makeup. You scanned your closet for anything that would impress Dae-ho.

It took about 30 minutes alone to pick out an outfit. You decided on a long black dress you bought for your halloween costume that you never got the chance to wear, due to the pickup for the games occurring the same day. You picked out jewelry and a coat to go with it, since it was the beginning of winter.

After getting dressed, you gathered all your makeup supplies and rushed to the bathroom. Doing your makeup took longer than you wanted it to, but you wanted everything to be perfect since this was the first time you’d see him outside of life-or-death situations.

Every wing of eyeliner had to be just right, your lip gloss needed just the right amount of shine, everything had to reflect how much you cared.

The hair was the part you’d been dreading. You didn’t know if it was the detangling, or getting your part straight, but it gave you a headache just thinking about it.

After stalling for about 20 minutes, you finally built up the strength to start on your hair. Pinterest was your best friend for situations like this. You quickly opened the board labeled “hairstyles” and scrolled through them to find the perfect one.

You’d found this beautiful blown-out hairstyle that would look amazing with your outfit and makeup. Since you knew it would take a long time, you silently braced yourself, this wouldn’t be an easy task. You grabbed the blow dryer, flat iron, heat protectant, and got to work.

In about 2 hours, you had finally finished at 6:50pm. The cafe was about 7 minutes away from you, so you grabbed your stuff and walked out of the door.

The drive there was the worst part. Your stomach was doing somersaults. Even though you’d seen eachother at your literal worsts, it still felt so scary. With all these anxieties flashing through your mind, you managed to push them to the back and keep a confident facade.

As you pulled up, you sent a quick text stating your arrival. You fidgeted with the ends of your dress absentmindedly, spacing out and hoping for the best.

The ding of your phone sent shivers down your spine as a text popped up reading ‘Perfect. Come inside and turn to the left, I’m here.’

You felt like throwing up as you walked up to the entrance of the café. The strong smell of caffeine and pastries hit your nose as you searched for Dae-ho in the warm lights.

Turning left as he instructed, you were met with his beaming face, looking like he’d seen the most beautiful sunrise. His eyes widened in awe, and for a moment, he seemed frozen. The corners of his mouth curled up into an infectious smile, and you felt a rush of warmth, knowing that in this moment, you had completely captivated him.

Almost immediately, he jumped up and gave you an engulfing hug. You didn’t know if it was because you were used to the smell of blood being around him, but he smelled astonishingly good. It was like the best mixture of his natural scent and a very expensive cologne.

As he pulled back slightly, you noticed a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his hands—delicate white lilies mixed with soft pink roses. “These are for you,” he said, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I thought it was only right for our first date.”

His hair was down to his neck, loose and messy, quite different from the bun you were used to seeing him in during the games. The collar of his shirt was casually unbuttoned, too. He looked effortlessly flawless.

“You look… wow. You’re so beautiful,” Dae-ho complimented, sending electric shocks through your veins. A rush of shyness met your face—he really thought of you like that?

“It’s so good to see you,” you said, your cheeks flushed with embarrassment and delight. “You look amazing too. I mean, I always thought you were handsome, but just… wow.” You took the bouquet from him, inhaling the sweet fragrance of the flowers.

His laughter danced through the air, a sound that brought you so much peace and clarity. “I’m just glad I could pull myself together after… well, everything.” His smile faded a bit, and you felt the silent weight of shared trauma hovering between you.

“Let’s not think about that tonight ,” you suggested softly, taking a seat across from him. “We deserve a night where those horrible games are the last of our worries.”

“Agreed,” he said, leaning forward, his gaze intensifying. “Tonight is about us, and starting fresh,together.”

As you scanned the cafe, adorned with twinkling fairy lights and the faint piano covers playing in the background,you felt the tension from earlier gradually melt away. You could see other people laughing, having the time of their lives. It felt surreal to be part of such a normal scene after everything you had both endured.

The waitress came up to your table and you both ordered drinks; he went for a dark roast coffee while you chose for a sweet vanilla latte. “It’s nice to be able to actually enjoy these little things.” you ranted, “After everything, I never even thought we’d get here.”

Dae-ho's eyes sparkled with that familiar warmth. “I’ve thought about this moment every day since I got back,” he admitted. “Dreamt about sitting across from you in a place that feels safe, where we can just be us.”

That sentiment made your heart swell. You immersed yourself in his beautiful sunkissed eyes. “What do you want for us, Dae-ho?” You asked, knowing that his answer could make or break you.

He hesitated for a moment, his expression solemn. “I want to build a life with you, whatever that looks like. It could be road trips everyday and always having new experiences together, or a cozy apartment with a beautiful family and no worries. I want us to share everything, the good, the bad—everything.”

The sincerity behind his words wrapped around your heart like a warm, familiar blanket. “I want that too,” you said softly, placing your hand over his. The connection was electric, sending sweet shivers up your body.

As you sipped your drinks, Dae-ho leaned in closer, a serious look in his eyes. “You know, I’ve thought about you every single day since we got out. I really missed you.”

“Really? I missed you too,” you replied, voice full of veracity. “It’s been hard without you.”

He took a long pause, as if he was searching for the right words. “I never realized how much I wanted someone like you in my life. Just knowing you were out there somewhere gave me hope.”

You felt your heart pang at his words, you spent all your life searching for a love like this, it felt so good to finally have it. “It was the same for me too. Every time I felt like giving up I had to remind myself of us, and our future.”

A soft smile grew on his face. “I knew we’d find our way back to each other. I just didn’t know how much it would mean to finally be here, like this.”

“Me either,” you said softly. “I was nervous about tonight. I worried that maybe everything would feel different.” You thought back to earlier and how stupid you were for thinking he would see you differently. This is genuinely all you could've asked for.

Dae-ho shook his head with his eyebrows fixed in a furrow. “I was nervous too, but being with you feels right. I could really see us living a perfect life someday”

Your heart swelled with warmth. With him, you felt like you can just be yourself without any fear. He was genuinely your safe space.

“I promise we’ll stay connected. No matter how hard things get, we’ll keep fighting for each other.” You swore, knowing how your past relationships ended and wanting to break the cycle.

“Thank you, really. It means the world to me,” Dae-ho said sincerely, his eyes meeting yours. “I just want us to have a future, no matter how hard it'll be.”

“Yeah, me too,” you replied, feeling a sense of calm settle over you. “It’s comforting to have someone you know will be there for you, even on the darker days.”

His smile deepened, and for a moment, everything else faded. Just the two of you were in the room—focused on your shared promise. Nothing else mattered in this moment, you were ready to finally create a new beginning.

Silence in the air was broken as he finally spoke up, “I want to build a life where we support each other through any and everything." he grinned. “Even the small moments matter. Like cooking together and trying not to burn the kitchen down.”

You chuckled softly, picturing you both in the kitchen attempting to cook and leaving something in the oven too long. “I can definitely see that happening.”

“And if we accidentally set the place on fire, at least I’ll have an excuse to scoop you up and look all heroic while I rescue you.” he joked, his expression growing more playful

Laughter erupts from you and your eyes sprinkle with joy, causing Dae-ho to lean in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You know, I really missed your laugh. It makes everything feel so much brighter.”

“Really?” you asked, feeling warmth spread through your chest, “I missed yours too, it’s cute.”

The atmosphere felt light, almost euphoric, as you both relaxed into the comfort of eachother's presence. “Believe it or not, I was really so nervous for tonight,” Dae-ho admitted, his voice softening as he brushes his hair back behind his ear. “I thought I’d forget how to talk to you.”

“Trust me,” you said, voice tender, “I was nervous too. But I realized that after everything, who else could understand us like this?”

“Exactly,” He said before taking a sip of his coffee. “I feel like I can be myself around you, like I’ve never been able to with anyone else. It’s so freeing.”

“Freedom and love. Isn’t that what life’s really all about?” you said, your voice filled with hope and longing. You felt a warmth in your heart as you spoke, realizing that these two things were what you truly cherished.

As the conversation flowed, you exchanged stories, laughter, and memories—you shared dreams and fears, and slowly the nervousness slowly melted away.

“I can’t believe we made it out,” he said, his voice stern. “I can’t stop thinking about the others we lost… what they would’ve did if they made it out too.”

A brief silence enveloped the moment, both of you remembering the friends that didn’t make it, the faces of people who had shared brutal experiences with you.

“I think they’d want us to live, like really live,” you said firmly, squeezing his hand gently. “To make the most of us getting out, we owe it to them.” Dae-ho silently nodded, the thick atmosphere slowly leaving.

As the evening progressed, you lost track of time, so caught up in the warmth of shared smiles and nervous laughter. You could hardly believe this was the same man who stepped up and took initiative at every rough point during the games, willing to sacrifice himself for everyone's safety.

The night ended slowly as Dae-ho walked you outside to your car. The stars twinkled like tiny beacons in the dark sky above. “It feels different tonight, doesn’t it?” you said, glancing up at the stars. “Yeah, it really does,” he replied, his voice soft but full of warmth.

As you strolled along, flowers in hand, you both shared stories from before you met, your voices mixing with the soft hum of the night. Every smile and nervous chuckle made you feel a little lighter. You realized how much you valued this moment, this time together, away from the chaos and pain that had once consumed you both.

You exchanged glances, and you both understood something unspoken between you. “I never thought I could feel this way again,” you said, a hint of vulnerability in your voice. Dae-ho stepped closer, his gaze steady. “Neither did I. But I’m glad we’re here together.”

Finally, you paused beneath a big, ancient tree. Its branches stretched out like arms, swallowing you both in its shadow. Dae-ho turned to you, his eyes beaming in the starlight. His stare locked onto yours, and he took a step closer, face inches from yours.

"I wish this could last forever baby, I love you." he whispered, breath caressing your skin. Then, without another word, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, gentle kiss. You felt a spark of connection, and your heart skipped a beat as you kissed him back, the warmth of his lips sending shivers down your spine. The kiss deepened, and everything else faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

As the kiss lingered, time itself seemed to stand still, the world around you fading into a beautiful blur. When you finally pulled away, his eyes searched yours, a mix of desperation and love radiating from him. "Whatever happens, I'll always be here" he said softly, his hand still cradling your face. You smiled, knowing that no matter where life took you, this memory would be a cherished part of your story, a promise of what could be.

#kang dae ho x reader #kang dae ho #squid game #dae ho x reader #kang daeho #daeho x reader #squid game x reader #kang dae ho fluff #dae ho fluff #squid game fluff #need that

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heavenbarnes · 10 months ago

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Pretty please may we have more about Johnny finding your photos in older bf Simon’s phone?

continuation of this

so like i said about older bf!simon who saves all the photos and videos you send him because he likes having a lot to work with. no matter how fucking filthy it might be, he saves it right to his camera roll.

no albums, no hidden folder, no passcode (all things you need to show him when he’s home) photos of your naked body or videos of you humping a pillow and crying his name- all hanging loose in the photos app next to sweet photos of you two on date night or the screenshots johnny had sent him earlier.

that’s where this all went pear shaped, johnny had screenshotted the directions and sent them to simon’s phone. simon was busy assembling his weapon when johnny asked if he could grab those pictures off him.

simon had agreed (well he’d grunted but johnny knew him well enough to translate)

johnny’s thumb was working overtime to get to the screen with the photos app on it (simon doesn’t understand categorising apps so he has like three pages of them) and when he finally finds it, it was already open in the background (simon also doesn’t shut any apps, they’re always running in the back)

in hindsight, the fact johnny went quiet for once should’ve been a warning.

there, in soap’s hot little hand, was a photo of you that looked like it had been taken from the floor. your legs looked amazonian and the pair of knickers you had on hugged the curve of your ass like they were made for you. trailing all the way up your body until he could see your hands cupping your chest.

“jesus christ, L.T- the fuck is this?”

simon casually walked over to join him, looking over his shoulder and grunting again- this time in recognition.

“nah mate, the photos you sent are up ‘ere.”

not a care in the world.

as a long finger reached over to begin swiping through the photos, johnny’s head nearly spun off his shoulders as he was treated to an effective carousel of you in compromising positions.

videos of your legs spread, photos of you in simon’s clothing, close ups, long shots- johnny shifted on his feet in hopes he could adjust himself without hands, without raising alarm.

heat rising in his cheeks, he was close to handing the phone off and telling ghost he’d be back in 15 when a video began to autoplay with a missed swipe and johnny found himself jerking the phone so he could watch it play.

you were on your knees on the bed, back arched and hand between your thighs playing with yourself. your head was rested on the bed, looking back over your shoulder to lock eyes with the camera as a heady moan drifted off your lips.

“si- don’t be gone too long, need you to come home and fill me up”

soap could see stars, they were twirling round his head like somecunt had dropped an anvil on it. his eyes were fixed to the screen in front of him, unable to look anywhere else.

he was snapped back to attention by a dark snicker that came from just on his six. he swore he could feel ghost’s chin resting on his shoulder as the man spoke behind him.

“y’like that, huh? if you ask nicely, i’m sure i could get you one too.”

simon could be generous, but not that generous- you were still his, end of story. but that didn’t mean he couldn’t share something small with his closest.

especially when it was a video of you getting filled up at both ends, just silicone now but who knows what’ll happen when they come back?

#ANYWAYS wtf is wrong w me #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley blurb #simon ghost riley blurb #simon riley drabble #simon ghost riley drabble #johnny mactavish smut #johnny soap mactavish smut #johnny mactavish x reader x simon riley #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #older bf!simon

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pacofprunes · 28 days ago

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cotton candy grapes

thanos / player 230 x reader (squid game)

warnings — very short drabble, reader has pink hair, noncon kissing, biting that draws blood, choking, subtle threatening, drug use

by clicking read more you consent to reading this content and you are 18+

somehow, he hadn’t noticed you in the first game. you’d think the only other person there with dyed hair, that was pink, would immediately get his attention. but he didn’t notice until after the games when it was time to vote, you smacking that red X. he only saw your hair though, he wanted to see your face. he knew you had to be stunning.

the voting ends and he sees you on the other side sitting on your bed with your face in your hands. he gets up to go over to you.

“where are you going?”

nam-gyu his lap dog. he sits up out of his bed to see what his owners doing.

“none of your business.”

he walks away towards you, nam-gyu watching the whole time. on the way there he pops a pill in his mouth.

“hello señorita.”

you look up and he’s stunned. god you were beautiful. he whistles at you.

“what’dya say you join me and my team over there beautiful?”

he points to the other side where you see a group of people.

“uh, no thank you.”

“come on babe don’t be so difficult. you’re over here all alone, you need alliances. and i, thanos, the greatest rapper there has ever been, am a great ally.”

you pause and think. it would be nice to have allies in a shit hole like this. but then you think back to the first game. right in front of you, a whole row of people fall forward and get shot. it wasn’t from somebody tripping. no. it’s because this guy who says his name is thanos pushed them. you’re pulled out of your thoughts and look him in the eyes.

“you killed all those people.“

he looks at you with a shocked sarcastic smile.

“did i?”

“yes. yes you did. the first game, you pushed them all. no i don’t wanna fucking be on your team are you crazy?”

he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes it back slightly before you slap his hand away.

“come on señorita, money is money! you didn’t know those people and neither did i!”

he laughs, sick. he leans forward closer to your face and then moves over to your ear.

“plus, you don’t wanna know what’ll happen if you don’t join my team and switch that X.”

he leans back and points to the red X on your chest. flicking it. you stand up and ignore him before walking away, going to the bathroom to avoid him. he just stares your way.

“girls who play hard to get are so fucking hot.”

he runs a hand through his hair before going back to his degenerate friend nam-gyu. telling him all about you. granted he twisted a lot of shit. claiming you wanted him so bad, but was just so intimidated by how famous he is that you didn’t want part of that spotlight, and that’s why you said no. definitely was not what you said at all though.

you come back in the room, your pink hair bouncing behind you. god it looked so soft. he should’ve ran his hand through your hair while he had the chance. lights out comes about and he just sits up on his bed, taking another pill. thinking to himself what his next action should be. what if you died tomorrow and he didn’t even get the chance to kiss you? he gets up and walks back over to your side. you were trying to go to sleep, but weren’t asleep yet. he simply just grabs your elbow and pulls you behind the bed, pressing you against the wall.

“what the hell is wrong with you?”

he looks you dead in the eye with a crazed look. and rubs his hands through your hair. so fucking soft.

“babe, you’re just so fucking beautiful, what if you die tomorrow? and i don’t get the chance to smoke with you, kiss you, fuck you…”

you give him a disgusted look before he grabs your face in both hands giving you a tight kiss. forcing his tongue in your mouth. you push at his chest with your hands before stomping on his foot and he jumps back.

“you fucking bitch.”

he goes back up to you before you get the chance to get away from him and he grips your hair between all his fingers. you wanted to scream but didn’t wanna make things worse. plus, nobody would help you in a place like this. constant killing and fighting. nobody gave a fuck about you. he takes a deep breath before he breaths it all out into your neck. he wraps his hands around your neck as a warning, rubbing his fingers in circles around it.

“you’re so beautiful, one of the prettiest women i’ve ever seen. just give a handsome guy like me a chance.”

he kisses you again, hands still around your neck, doing light little pulse squeezes every few seconds as a warning. he bites your lip this time drawing a little bit of blood, causing you to go to scream. but as soon as you do, he’s squeezing your throat as tight as he can, you can’t get any air, not even a single noise out. he continues to kiss you before pulling away and looking you in the eyes as you struggle to breathe. finally he lets go and pushes your hair behind your ear.

“i expect you change your mind tomorrow, kay babe? wouldn’t wanna hurt you even more, i really do like you.”

he takes a step back and you guys just hold eye contact and he swings his cross necklace, playing with it in his fingers before opening it.

“if you ever want some, just come to me. the pink one suits you perfectly.”

#squid game x reader #thanos x reader #su-bong x reader #su bong x reader #choi su bong x reader #player 230 x reader #yandere squid game #yandere squid game x reader #yandere thanos #yandere thanos x reader #tw choking #tw noncon #tw dark content #squid game smut #thanos smut #tw dark fic

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itneverendshere · 3 months ago

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INVISIBLE STRING - r.c series (six)

pairing: pogue!rafe x sweetheart!kook reader. chapter warnings: angst; mentions of domestic violence; unhealthy relationships;

He blinks and rubs his eyes, thinking maybe the heat is messing with his head, but no. There you are, standing a few feet away, looking like you’ve been through hell and back. His heart starts pounding so hard he can feel it in his throat. He can’t think, can’t even breathe right.

You look different. Way different.

Long sleeves in this heat? And your face—there’s no mistaking the bruises, and purple and yellow patches on your cheek, jaw, even your neck. His eyes track the faintest shadow of a handprint there.

What the hell happened to you? How did you end up here?

He left the Outer Banks years ago to disappear, to put distance between you two. And now, after all that time, you just show up, beaten and in front of his garage?

The way you look at him like you’re shocked, almost terrified—it snaps him back to reality. But before he can take a step toward you, before he can get any words out, your eyes roll back.

“Shit!” He’s moving fast, catching you right before you hit the ground. He’s at your side in a second, kneeling, his hands hovering over you like he’s afraid to touch you, unsure what’ll hurt. “Hey, hey, c’mon, wake up—don’t do this.”

His voice is shaky, panicked. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed to be over you, supposed to forget all about you.

“Jerry!” he yells over his shoulder, “Call an ambulance!”

The old man sticks his head out from under the car, frowning.

“What’s goin’ on out there?”

Rafe doesn’t even look back, his focus on you, gently pressing his fingers to your neck to check for a pulse. You’re breathing, thank God, but you’re out cold. He’s torn between getting you help and the urge to just… hold you, and protect you from whatever did this to you. He cradles you in his arms.

“I said call!” he snaps, and Jerry curses under his breath, shuffling toward the phone.

Rafe doesn’t care. He’s too busy staring at you, brushing the hair out of your face, his thumb ghosting over the bruise on your cheek. What the fuck happened? Who laid their hands on you?

He holds you tighter, rocking just a little, “What the hell happened, darlin’?”

He leans closer, feeling the heat radiate off your skin. God, you look so fragile. He can’t shake the thought that he should’ve been there for you. He should’ve protected you from whatever led you here, from the bruises painting your skin.

Jerry returns, phone in hand, a frantic look on his face. “They’re on their way, kid. Just stay calm. They’ll be here.”

He kneels next to Rafe, checking your pulse, and Rafe holds his breath, waiting.

“C’mon, don’t do this to me,” he brushes your hair back again, fingers trembling slightly, “You gotta wake up.”

A part of him feels like a fool, holding onto a ghost.

You were supposed to be gone from his life, a chapter closed. But here you are, back in the worst way possible, and it’s tearing him apart.

Your eyes flutter open, just a crack, and he leans closer, hopeful.

“Hey… can you hear me?” He feels that familiar stretch in his chest like his heart is expanding in every direction possible.

You manage a little nod, but it’s shaky, and your breathing is still uneven. You blink up at him, confusion swimming in your eyes.

Your lip’s part, but nothing comes out, just a weak, ragged breath. Rafe’s heart twists. He can see the pain all over your face, doesn’t know if it’s more physical or emotional, and it’s killing him either way.

“Don’t try to talk,” he murmurs, his drawl softer now, coaxing. “Help’s comin’, just hang on.”

His thumb still traces the bruise, like he can smooth away the hurt if he just keeps touching you. Except, somehow, he knows this goes way beyond bruises.

Whatever you’ve been through, it’s bad. Worse than bad.

It’s a nightmare written in the way you look at him, like you can’t quite believe he’s real. He feels you tremble a little, and his gut knots up. He should say something more, something to ground you, but all he can think is that he failed you.

He ran. He left you behind. Now you’re back, but you’re broken

The ambulance sirens wail in the distance, getting louder, but to Rafe, it feels like everything's slowing down. He’s hyper-focused on you—your eyes, the bruises, your uneven breaths. He’s still holding you, rocking a little, like he can comfort you that way. It’s instinct.

Jerry’s back on his feet, shuffling out to meet the paramedics, but he doesn’t move. He can’t let go. The questions he wants to ask, the anger, the worry—it’s all eating him from the inside out.

When the paramedics rush over, he’s finally forced to step back, but not too far. He stays close, eyes never leaving you. They’re asking him questions—what happened, how long you’ve been out—he just wants to see you back on your feet.

All he knows is that he’s not letting you out of his sight.

They lift you onto the stretcher, strapping you in.

He should go with you, right? Shouldn’t he?

Or is that crossing a line? His mind’s racing, second-guessing every little thing. But when one of the paramedics glances his way, giving him that “Are you coming?” look, he’s already moving, climbing into the back of the ambulance without a second thought.

He’s by your side again, his knee bouncing as the doors close and the sirens blare to life. Leaning forward, he takes your hand—slowly, like he’s afraid you’ll break under his touch. “I’m right here."

And he means it. No matter what it takes, he’s staying this time.

The ambulance jerks to life, and Rafe grips the edge of the bench. Your hand in his feels too cold, limp, and that does something to him. His knee bounces faster as the paramedic starts rattling off medical stuff, checking your vitals, and asking him questions he can barely answer.

“I don’t know,” he mutters, voice tight. “She just showed up like that. Passed out before I could even talk to her.”

He keeps replaying the way you looked at him, the way your eyes rolled back before he could even say a damn thing. He swallows hard, staring at you, hoping you’ll just... open your eyes again, give him something.

The paramedic pulls out a flashlight, and shines it in your eyes, saying something about your pupils being responsive. Rafe clings to that word—responsive. That’s good, right? He doesn’t know much about this stuff, but responsive must mean you’re still fighting.

Somebody did this to you, he’s not sure what scares him more—the fact that he wasn’t there to stop it, or the fact that he might not be able to do anything about it now. “She gonna be okay?”

“Too early to tell,” the guy says without looking up, focused on the equipment strapped to you. “She’s stable for now, but we need to get her to the hospital. They’ll know more once we get her checked out.”

Stable. That’s not enough. Stable feels like a bandaid on a bullet wound.

Rafe squeezes your hand again, just needing to feel some kind of connection.

“You’re gonna be fine,” he’s trying to convince himself still, trying to will it into existence. “You hear me?” His voice cracks on the last bit, but he doesn’t care. You stir a little, just the faintest movement, and he straightens up. “That’s it. Just hang in there. We’re almost there.”

He sits back, trying to breathe, trying to keep his shit together, but it’s hard. It’s real hard. Everything’s too loud—the sirens, the paramedic moving around, the thoughts screaming in his head. He never should’ve left.

The ambulance slows down, and just like that you’re at the hospital. You’re almost there, almost safe.

The doors fly open, and the paramedics start moving fast, pulling the stretcher out with you strapped in, tubes and wires everywhere. Rafe’s out of the ambulance before he even realizes it, jogging to keep up as they wheel you inside. He doesn’t see anything but you as they push you through the double doors into the ER.

They stop him at the entrance.

“You can’t go in,” a nurse warns him, putting a hand on his chest to stop him from following you.

“What? No, I’m goin’ with her,” Rafe snaps, but the nurse shakes her head.

“You have to wait here. We’ll come get you when we know more.”

His hands flex into fists, but he knows he’s got to stand down.

“Fine,” he mutters, stepping back, watching helplessly as they wheel you away, disappearing behind the doors.

He stands there for a second, heart pounding, staring at the doors.

You’re gone. For now.

Rafe pulls out his phone, staring at it for a long minute, thinking about calling somebody, but who the hell’s he supposed to call? It’s not like he’s got anyone left in that town. Just you.

Sinking into a plastic chair, he drops his head into his hands, elbows propped on his knees again. But all he sees is you. All he hears is the quietness between you, everything unsaid. He leans back in the stiff plastic chair, then leans forward again, fingers running through his hair, pulling just enough to ground himself.

He hates it. Hates the helplessness, hates that all he can do is sit here while you’re in some back room, hooked up to God knows what. He looks around, eyes darting to the clock on the wall. Fifteen minutes. Felt like an hour.

What the hell’s takin’ so long? Rafe’s got an enormous space in his head right now, and every dark thought is creeping in—What if you don’t wake up? What if this is it? What if he loses you before he even has a chance to make things right?

He rubs his hands over his face, groaning low in his throat, trying to push all that out. You’re gonna be fine. You’ve always been tough, tougher than him most days, and you’d probably kick his ass for thinkin’ otherwise.

He thinks about it—some coward who thought they could lay hands on you, who thought they’d get away with it. No. Not if Rafe’s got anything to say about it.

The door to the ER swings open, and a nurse steps out, scanning the room. He’s on his feet in an instant, heart jackhammering in his chest.

“Hey—uh, is she—?”

The nurse glances down at her clipboard, nodding. “You’re here for her, right? She’s stable.”

He doesn’t even let her finish, relief hitting him so fast it almost knocks him over. He lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, shoulders sagging just a little.

“Stable?” he repeats, needing to hear it again.

“Yeah, she’s stable. The doctors are still running a few more tests, but she’s conscious now.”

Conscious.

“Can I see her?” he blurts, practically vibrating with the need to get to you.

The nurse hesitates, looking down at her clipboard again. “She’s still pretty out of it. I don’t think—”

“Please.”

She sighs, nodding toward the hallway. “Fine. But just for a few minutes.”

That’s all he needs. He follows her down the hallway, his pulse pounds in his ears as they stop outside your room. The nurse gestures for him to go in, and Rafe takes a deep breath.

You’re lying there, hooked up to machines, an IV in your arm, and though the bruises are still stark against your skin, you look… better.

Breathing easier. More color in your cheeks.

His heart? That’s still a mess.

He approaches slowly like he’s afraid to wake you, but when he gets close enough, he sees your eyes open.

Your gaze finds him. It’s just you and him, like before.

“Rafe?” Your voice is hoarse.

He never thought he’d hear you say his name again.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pulling up a chair next to your bed. “Yeah, I’m here.”

He watches your lips move, and it feels like someone’s driving a knife straight through his chest.

“Am… am I dreaming?” you ask, and the sound of it—so fragile, so full of disbelief—almost makes him break right there. His throat tightens, and he has to blink hard to keep himself from losing it.

He damn near sobs on the spot.

“No,” he reassures you, automatically reaching for you, “You’re not dreamin’. I’m here. I’m right here.”

His fingers wrap around yours, and for the first time in years, something inside him settles. He’s got you. You’re alive.

It’s not much, but it’s enough for now.

You look at him, eyes clouded with confusion, and pain. He watches the tears start to well up. He’s not sure what to do with any of it.

Everything feels so wrong and right at the same time.

He leans forward, his forehead pressing against the side of the bed, still holding onto your hand like it’s the only thing keeping him from falling apart. He should’ve been there.

“You showed up,” he recalls what happened just hours ago, “Just collapsed right in front of me.” He pauses, tracing the marks on your face, your neck. His blood boils just thinking about it. “What the hell happened to you?” He’s not mad at you—God, no. He’s mad at himself. Mad at whoever did this. Mad at the whole fucking world for letting it happen. “Who did this?”

You flinch, and immediately he regrets probing, his heart breaking all over again at the sight of your tears. You look so small, so broken, and it’s tearing him apart from the inside out. This isn't you.

“I—I don’t…” Your voice breaks. He wants to wrap you up in his arms, pull you close, tell you that it’s okay, that he’s here now. But he doesn’t know if it is okay.

You close your eyes again, like just keeping them open is too hard, and Rafe leans back, running a shaky hand through his hair.

His mind’s spinning, trying to piece it all together. He keeps seeing the way you looked at him before you passed out, the way your body just gave up, and it’s driving him crazy.

Just thirty minutes later, he still sits there, watching you sleep again, his mind in a thousand different places. He keeps asking himself the same question, over and over.

If he hadn’t left, if he’d stayed close, maybe you wouldn’t be lying here with bruises in every shade of misery painted across your skin.

His jaw clenches, teeth grinding together so hard it makes his head hurt. He’s furious—furious with himself, with whoever did this to you, and with the world for letting it happen. He’s realizing just how much damage he’s done by leaving.

He stares down at your hand in his, thumb absently brushing the back of it. There’s this constant torture inside him, like he’s gonna be sick if he doesn’t figure out who’s responsible.

A sudden knock on the door snaps him out of his thoughts. The doctor steps in, clipboard tucked under his arm, wearing that same calm look they all seem to have.

Rafe straightens up in the chair, not letting go of your hand. "How is she?"

The doctor looks at you, then back at him, sighing softly.

“Well, there’s no internal bleeding, which is good. We’re keeping her here for the night, just to check. A couple of the bruises are deep, though, and...” He trails off, flipping through the pages on his clipboard. “Some of the bruising looks... older. Different stages of healing.”

He blinks, hard, not sure if he heard that right. "Different stages? What’re you sayin'?"

"I’m saying it looks like this wasn’t a one-time incident."

His stomach drops. Suddenly it feels like he’s choking. He grips the arm of the chair. Different stages? What the hell does that mean?

Someone’s been putting their hands on you for a while?

“You’re tellin’ me this not the first time?” He’s on the verge of snapping. The doctor nods, just a small, grim acknowledgment, and Rafe fights the need to punch something. Or someone.

“She's lucky nothing’s broken,” the doctor continues, his tone too matter-of-fact for Rafe’s liking. “But she’s fragile. Exhausted. The best thing for her now is rest.”

Fragile.

He looks back at you, lying there, looking like you could disintegrate with just a touch. He feels like he’s been kicked in the chest, as if everything he thought he knew about you—about himself—is wrong.

And then, the doctor says it. "I think it would be best if we called the authorities, got a police report filed. This is clearly abuse, and—"

“No.” Your voice cracks through the air. You’re barely awake, but your eyes are wide now, desperate, “Please. Don’t.”

You look so fucking scared. He wants to hold you to his chest, to tell you it’s alright, but he can’t understand what the hell’s goin' on.

“No police,” you insist, like it’s the only thing in the world that matters. “Please.”

"What—Why the hell not? You need help, you need—” His voice rises before he can stop it, “Somebody did this to you.”

You shrink back, eyes running away from him. Rafe’s heart twists in his chest. He didn’t mean to scare you, but he’s losing his mind here.

“I can’t,” you mumble, voice trembling. “It’s… it’s complicated.”

Rafe leans forward, hands gripping the edge of the bed now.

"Complicated? What the hell’s complicated about getting the bastard who did this? We gotta do somethin’ about it!"

But you’re not looking at him.

You’re staring at the wall, eyes glazed over like you’re not even really here. His hand twitches at his side.

The doctor clears his throat, awkwardly, like he knows this is something way above his pay grade.

“I’ll give you two some space.” He turns to leave, and Rafe barely acknowledges him, too focused on you.

He lets out a long breath, "You don’t gotta be scared, alright? I’ll handle it. You know I will." His voice coaxing. “But you gotta let me. Just let me help you.”

You still don’t answer. Just keep staring at the wall like it’s easier than facing him.

That kills him more than anything else.

All he wants to do is pull you close and tell you that he’ll take care of everything, but the look on your face—the fear, the hesitation—tells him there’s a lot more going on.

He runs his thumb over the back of your hand again.

“I’m not gonna let anybody hurt you again,” he promises, “You hear me? No one.”

“You’ve never been good at keeping promises, have you?”

His breath hitches.

He stares at you, stunned. He doesn’t know what to say. You’re right.

You’re not still not looking at him—your eyes are stuck on the wall, your voice distant, almost like you’re talking to yourself.

He swallows hard, his hand slipping from yours as he sits back. Fuck.

He knows you’re right. You don’t have to say it, but you just did. He wasn’t there for you before, wasn’t there when it mattered. He ran.

“I…” He clears his throat as he looks down at his hands. “I know.”

Your eyes meet his for a second, and it feels like a lifetime worth of longing is trapped in there.

He swears he can feel every broken promise between you two and for once in his life, he doesn’t know if trying is enough.

The next day, you’re finally properly awake, and though you’re not saying much, you look better.

Less pale. More alive. The bruises are still there, but at least you’re moving.

Breathing.

Rafe's been thinking about what you said—about him not keeping promises. He's not gonna make the same mistake again.

When the nurse tells him you’ll be discharged soon, his first thought is your clothes—the ones you were wearing when you collapsed.

They’re ripped, dirty, and stained with too many bad memories.

There’s no way in hell you’re walking out of here in those. Without saying a word, he heads out. He doesn’t have to explain it to you, doesn’t even wait for you to ask where he’s going.

A little while later, he comes back with a bag of clothes in hand.

He didn’t waste time trying to pick something fancy or anything; just grabbed whatever looked comfortable. A pair of soft sweatpants, a T-shirt, and a hoodie. It’s warm outside, but he knows you—you like to cover up, especially now. He doesn’t say anything when he hands them to you, just sets them on the chair by your bed like it’s no big deal.

But the way you look at the clothes, then back at him—it’s like you can’t believe he thought of it. Like you don’t know him anymore.

You don’t say anything, either, just take the bag with a quiet “thanks.”

He nods once, stuffing his hands into his pockets, watching you for a moment before looking away.

When the doctor finally comes back, he rattles off a list of things you’ll need to do once you’re discharged.

“You need to rest. Take it easy. And most importantly, you shouldn’t be alone. Someone should stay with you, just in case there are any sudden complications—dizziness, headaches, anything like that.”

Before you can even open your mouth, Rafe speaks up. “She’s stayin’ with me.”

You whip your head toward him so fast, it’s like you’re about to snap your neck.

“What?” Your voice is incredulous like the idea is completely absurd.

“She’s stayin’ with me.”

The doctor just nods like it’s no big deal.

“Good. She needs to be with someone who can watch her closely for the next couple of days. Make sure she’s not exerting herself.”

You’re still staring at Rafe like he’s lost his damn mind.

“Rafe, I—” you start, but he cuts you off, not even turning to face you.

“You’re not going back,” he mutters, his tone final. “You’re coming with me, end of story.”

You sit there, lips pursed, stunned, unsure what to say or do.

He stands up, grabbing your things, already moving toward the door like it’s a done deal.

“C’mon,” he calls over his shoulder, “Let’s get outta here.”

The house is modest. Small kitchen, worn-out couch, and the faint smell of motor oil drifting in from the garage. It’s clear he doesn’t spend much time here—there’s hardly anything personal, just the basics. He drops the bag on the table and turns to you.

“You can take the bed,” he nods toward the back room. “I’ll crash on the couch.”

“I don’t need—”

“I’m not arguin’ about this. You’re takin’ the bed. End of story.”

You swallow the protest, nodding . Maybe it’s the exhaustion on your bones, or maybe it’s the realization that you don’t have the energy to fight him right now. Either way, you head toward the bedroom without a word, slipping out of sight.

Later, as you sit on the bed, your mind recalls the way Rafe didn’t even hesitate to help you, the way he’s been since you showed up at his doorstep looking like death itself.

He stills acts like Rafe you used to know, your Rafe.

And it’s messing with your head.

You hear him in the kitchen, the clink of dishes, the creak of the old floorboards under his boots. You wonder if he’s thinking the same thing you are. He appears in the doorway a few minutes later, leaning against the frame, arms crossed.

“You’re feeling better?”

You nod, though it feels like a lie. “Yeah.”

“Look,” he says, his drawl a little softer, less harsh than it was earlier, “You don’t gotta stay forever. Just ‘til you’re feeling better."

You glance up at him, searching his face for any sign of what’s going on in that head of his. But he’s hard to read.

You no longer have that kind of intimacy.

“You’ve been here this whole time?”

You’re not talking about the hospital.

You can’t believe that after everything, after all these years, you ended up here—in his house, in this random town that’s miles away from home, from where your lives used to be. It feels like some twisted, cruel joke. Fate playing games with you both.

“This place is eight hours from home,” you continue, more to yourself than to him. “And somehow, I end up here.” You look up at him, your eyes wide with disbelief. “With you.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, “Hell of a coincidence, huh?”

But it doesn’t feel like just a coincidence to you.

It feels bigger than that—like some bigger force, you can’t comprehend, pulled you back into each other’s lives when you least expected it.

After everything that happened, after he disappeared and you were left behind to pick up the pieces of your life, you thought you’d never see him again. But here he is. Here you are.

You can’t stop staring at him.

t’s like every time you blink, he looks different—familiar but new in all the ways that make you speechless. He’s shaved but you still spot his shaving shadow. His hair is longer, almost slicked back from how many times he’s run his hands through it.

The way it falls, messy but somehow perfect, makes you want to reach out and touch it just to see if it feels like you remember.

And then there’s the rest of him.

He’s filled out, broader in the shoulders, his arms stronger, more defined. You can see it all through the worn wifebeater he’s wearing. It hugs him just right, showing off muscles that weren’t there before.

It’s like he’s grown into himself like he finally became the man you always knew he could be.

You can’t believe it’s him—the love of your life. The boy you lost is standing right in front of you, but he’s not just a boy anymore. He’s a man, and it hits you so hard, you almost feel dizzy.

Rafe sits down next to you, close enough that your knees almost touch. His blue eyes peek to your face, then away, then back again, like he’s trying to figure you out. He exhales, jaw tensing as he looks down at his hands before glancing back up at you.

“You gotta tell me what happened.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly dry, and drop your gaze to your lap. How are you supposed to reveal any of this? How do you even start?

“I have a fiancé.”

His brows furrow together as he processes what you just said.

“A fiancé?” he repeats like he’s testing the word, trying to see if it’s as real as it sounds.

You nod, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat. It feels wrong to bring this up now, amid everything, but it’s the truth, and he deserves to know it.

“Yeah.”

“He did this?” His voice is weak, almost like he’s afraid to ask, but his eyes narrow into slits.

“No,” you say quickly, shaking your head. “It’s not like that. He didn’t—” You pause, the words dying in your tongue. You don’t want to defend him, not when Rafe’s just looking for someone to blame, but you can’t help it. “It’s complicated.”

“Complicated?” he echoes his voice rising a notch. “You’ve got bruises on your skin. Complicated’s not the word for it.”

You wince at his tone, “It’s just… it’s not all his fault. I thought I could handle it. I thought—”

“You thought what?” Rafe interrupts, with frustration. “You thought you could handle gettin’ tossed around like this? What the hell are you even sayin’?”

You close your eyes, wishing for just a moment of peace, something to stop the mess that your life turned into.

“I didn’t have a choice,” you confessed, barely loud enough for him to hear.

His head snaps back like you’ve slapped him. “What do you mean you didn’t have a choice? There’s always a choice.”

You shake your head, feeling the tears building. You’ve cried enough over this—over him, over everything you lost, and everything you thought you wanted. “Not for me, not back then.”

He blinks at you, confused. You can see him trying to piece it together, but it’s like the more you talk, the less he understands.

“My parents,” you explain, “They gave me an ultimatum—either stop looking for you or lose everything. My place in college, my future. They weren’t gonna let me keep chasing after you.”

This isn’t the way you thought this conversation would go, but now that you're here, with Rafe sitting right next to you, there’s no running from it.

He doesn’t say anything, just sits there in silence, staring at you, brows knitted together like he’s trying to piece the puzzle all together.

“You looked for me?”

It’s not an accusation, not exactly, but there’s this hint of doubt in his tone, like he can’t even wrap his head around the idea. His blue eyes search yours, and the intensity in them makes your chest hurt in that good way you missed. The only one you craved.

God, you don’t even know how to answer that. It’s like your brain’s screaming to hold back, to not let him in again, but your heart—it’s already crumbling at the way he’s looking at you.

You take a shaky breath, nodding once, “Of course I did.”

Rafe’s eyes shine with something restless, like he can’t decide if he should keep looking at you or anywhere but. His jaw tightens, and he bites the inside of his cheek, that familiar flash of frustration you’ve seen too many times. He lets out a sharp breath through his nose.

Then, he laughs, but it’s bitter and choked, barely more than a scoff. He’s looking at the ground now, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, knuckles white from the pressure.

“You looked for me?” he mutters again, like he’s grappling with the idea. His head snaps back to you, eyes wide, bewildered. “And I—I fuckin' left you.” He drags a hand down his face, fingers digging into his skin, exhaling hard. You can practically see the guilt attached to his entire being. His gaze darts around the room, his leg bouncing with that anxious energy. “I thought you’d hate me.”

“I never hated you. Not for that.”

At that, he flinches, eyes widening slightly before they narrow, like he doesn’t know if he should trust what he just heard. His lips part, then close, as if he’s trying to fathom that one simple truth. He runs his hand over his mouth, and he stares at you with that intense, almost unnerving gaze of his.

“W-What did they do to you?”

There’s fear in his voice—a desperate kind of fear, like he’s terrified of the answer.

“Rafe…” You sigh, your voice cracking on his name.

He lets out a sharp breath, clearly frustrated. His hand drags through his hair for the millionth time since you stumbled back into his life, tugging at the strands.

“Make me understand,” he says, his voice strained. “Because I’m tryin’ real hard here, all I see is you hurt—bruised—and tellin’ me I’m not supposed to be angry about it.”

You look away, blinking rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay.

You don’t want to cry in front of him, not now. But the truth sits your chest, and you know there’s no avoiding it any longer.

“It wasn’t just him,” you finally admit, “It’s everything—my parents, the pressure, the expectations. I thought if I did what they wanted, if I played by their rules, I could fix it. I could fix me. But I was wrong. So wrong.”

Rafe watches you carefully, his leg still bouncing, his eyes searching your face trying to figure out why you ever thought you had to do it all alone.

“You didn’t think I’d be there for you?”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head.

“You weren’t even there for yourself. You left. You ran. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t find you. I didn’t know how.”

He winces, but you see it—the regret. “I didn’t know,” he tells you, “I didn’t know you were lookin’. I thought…” He trails off, his hand gripping the back of his neck, fingers pressing hard into his skin. “I thought you moved on. That you didn’t want me anymore.”

You can see it now—the broken pieces of the boy you used to love, the boy you never really stopped loving, sitting right in front of you.

“I could never hate you,” you confess, “Not after everything we went through. I was hurt, yes. Angry. But I never hated you.”

You don’t know why it feels so hard to say this out loud, but there’s something about being here with him, after everything that happened, that makes it feel even more impossible.

“My parents were really done with me by the time I hit my third year in college. They’d already threatened to cut me off a hundred times—made me choose between them or… or you.” You pause, swallowing the lump in your throat.

The memories flood back so vividly—their constant disapproval, the harsh words, the relentless pressure to forget about Rafe and focus on your “real future,” as they called it.

“They gave me an ultimatum—again,” you continue, the hostility creeping into your voice. “I was still trying to find you, still chasing every lead, every rumor, anything I could get my hands on. And they were fed up. They didn’t understand why I couldn’t just let it go, why I couldn’t just move on with my life.”

He’s letting you speak, letting you lay it all out in the open.

“There was this guy. His family had just moved to Figure Eight right after you left. He was nice, at first. He was everything my parents wanted—a good family, a stable future, perfect on paper. They practically forced me to start dating him.”

You feel Rafe stiffen beside you, but you can’t stop now. The words are coming out, faster than you can control them.

“At first, it was just to keep the peace, to get them off my back. I told myself it didn’t mean anything. But then, as the years went on, I don’t know. I was tired. Tired of fighting them, tired of searching for you and coming up empty every time. Tired of the pressure, of being the disappointment.”

You pause, your throat tightening as you remember the way your parents had pushed you, how they’d insisted that dating this guy was the only way to secure a “respectable future.” You’d been so worn down by then, so lost, that it seemed like the only choice.

“They convinced me it was the right thing to do. That this was my chance to finally move on, to stop chasing after something that wasn’t there anymore. They made it sound like it was the only way to get my life back on track.”

Rafe moves beside you, restless, “And you believed them?”

You wish you could stop here, leave it unsaid, but you can’t.

“It got worse.”

He turns to face you, a silent question in his eyes. He knows you’re about to tell him something bad—something he won’t want to hear—but he waits, giving you space to speak.

“I tried to make it work with him. I really did,” you almost let the tears drop right there and then, “But it was never right. He found a picture of us. From years ago. A photo I’d printed before you left. I don’t even know why I kept it, but I did. I kept it in my wallet, hidden away. I didn’t think it was a big deal, but when he found it…” You pause, the memory replaying in your mind. “He changed.”

His entire body goes still.

“He didn’t trust me after that,” you whispered the shame burning you alive, “He started questioning everything. If I talked to another guy, even just for a second, he’d lose it. I couldn’t leave the house alone anymore, not without him watching me. I couldn’t have a girls’ night or even go to the grocery store without him making some comment about who I might be looking at or who might be looking at me.”

You drop your gaze to your hands, gripping them tightly in your lap to stop them from shaking.

“I tried to tell myself it was nothing, that he was just jealous because he cared. But it got worse. He started getting angry, accusing me of things that weren’t even happening. And then he got violent.”

“What do you mean ‘violent’?”

You don’t want to say it. You don’t want to admit how bad it got, how trapped you felt. But the truth is there, in the bruises that are still fading from your skin, in the way your body recoils at the thought of him.

You can’t hide it anymore.

“He hit me. Every week, kept saying I was still in love with you, that I never got over you. He’d accuse me of cheating, of thinking about you. He didn’t trust me around anyone. And whenever he got worked up, he’d… he’d take it out on me.”

Rafe is breathing heavily now, his chest rising and falling at a fast pace. He’s trying to control it, but you can see it, the way his hands are shaking, the way his jaw clenches so hard it looks painful.

“How long?” he asks, his voice dangerously quiet. “How long has this been happening?”

You swallow hard, blinking back the tears that threaten to fall.

“Almost three years. Ever since he found that picture.”

Rafe curses under his breath, turning away from you, his hands gripping the comforter so tightly you think he might rip it apart.

“You couldn’t leave?” His voice is strained, like he’s trying to understand how things got this bad.

You shake your head slowly.

“I couldn’t. He wouldn’t let me. He controls everything. I wasn’t allowed to go anywhere without him. He’d keep tabs on me constantly. Make it ten times worse every single time. My parents think I’m doing this to myself to get away.”

He’s not just angry, he’s furious.

“I should’ve been there,” he scolds himself, “I should’ve been there.”

“You couldn’t have known,” You don’t want him to blame himself, not for this. “You left for a reason. I get that.”

But Rafe doesn’t seem to hear you. He’s pacing back and forth now, each step more agitated than the last.

“He hit you." He says it almost to himself, like he can’t fully comprehend it. He’s shaking his head now, breathing hard. “And your parents—they think you’re doin’ this to yourself?” His voice rises, disbelief dripping from every word. “What the hell kind of—” He stops himself, pacing faster. He looks like he wants to punch something, like he’s one second away from collapsing.

You wince at his anger, though it’s not directed at you, “Rafe—”

He turns abruptly, cutting you off, his eyes wild.

“No. Don’t ‘Rafe’ me, alright? You—” He gestures at you, his hand shaking as he points to the fading bruises. “This? This is bullshit. What, they think it’s your fault? They don’t get to do that to you. None of this is your fault, and you should never have had to deal with that piece of shit."

His words are not meant to hurt you, but hearing them shatters your heart in half, at least, what's left of it anyway.

Rafe seems to sense it, the way your body tenses, the way your eyes are avoiding his now. He stops pacing and moves closer, crouching down in front of you.

His movements are slower, like he doesn’t want you to ever feel scared around him.

“Look at me,” he almost begs you, “Just… look at me.”

Reluctantly, you meet his eyes and it’s like you’re seventeen all over again.

“I’m sorry. ’m sorry I wasn’t there. I should’ve been. I should’ve…” His voice cracks, and he quickly looks away, “I didn’t know. I didn’t know you were still lookin’ for me.”

“You couldn’t have known.”

“You’re not going back. You’re not goin’ back to him. Not after this.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go,” you almost whimper in pain. It’s the truth, though. You’re trapped, and no matter how much he wants to help, there’s no easy solution to this mess.

“You do now,” he takes your hands into his, wondering if he’s still worth your touch. “You’re stayin’ with me. I don’t care what it takes. You’re not goin’ back there. Not to him, not to your parents. I’ll figure it out.”

There’s something about the way he’s looking at you now, like he’s making a promise—one he won’t break.

“I can’t just—”

“You’re safe now. I swear.”

You’re sobbing. It’s not the delicate, quiet kind of crying either—you can’t breathe, your chest heaving with every inhale, the sound coming out somewhere between a gasp and a whimper.

You cover your face with your hands, trying to muffle the sounds, but it doesn’t work. The tears just keep pouring out, endless, soaking your palms, dripping down your wrists. You’re shaking, your whole body trembling as years of pent-up hurt, exhaustion.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out between sobs, even though you’re not sure what you’re apologizing for. It’s like you can’t stop apologizing, like everything that's happened is somehow your fault. “I’m sorry—I—”

The sobs tear through you and Rafe moves without hesitation, just slides down next to you, pulling you gently into his lap. His strong arms wrap around you, cautious but firm. He’s mindful of the bruises he knows are there, his hand running up and down your back in the softest, most delicate way, almost like he’s scared to cause you any more pain.

You cling to him instinctively, burying your face into his chest as you cry harder, your fingers gripping onto his shirt. His scent is familiar—comforting—and it only makes you cry more.

“Shhh. It’s okay. I got you, baby. I got you.” His lips brush against your temple in the lightest kiss, over and over again, like he’s trying to kiss away the tears, the fear, the pain. “You’re okay now,” he murmurs, his breath warm against your skin. “Everything’s gonna be okay, I promise.”

You’re shaking in his arms, but he holds you tighter, rocking you while his hand continues its slow, careful path up and down your back.

“I’m here,” he reminds you against your hair, his lips pressing another kiss to your forehead. “No one’s gonna hurt you anymore. Not while I’m here. I swear.”

Even if just for this moment, you believe him.

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twistedpink · 2 months ago

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idk if uve done this before buuuttt.. tsundere idia? 🥺 tyty

good idea!!

Tsundere!Idia that’s gets foul with you, and he’s not the type that’ll just kick your shins and run away all blushy. No chance, because when does the prefect ever get good things? He will INSTAKILL your confidence. Sure he loves you and is this close to just biting the bullet and make a holo-yuu for himself, but there’s no way you’ll EVER know that. Tsundere!Idia that is only so mean because he took himself out of the race before it even started- how’s he supposed to compete with the “prince with a super tragic and sexy backstory”?? He’s just Idia!!! (Ignoring that he’s basically Batman)

Tsundere!Idia has devoted his entire life to preserving his introvert utopia, no shot he’ll let some.. temptress sully his good name! (Read; login streak)

Tsundere!Idia that’s forced to do an alchemy class with you in person!! (“Blah blah can’t google answers, pup!”) smoke is literally coming off his head, and somehow he’s “your favourite partner”?? Are you trying to kill him?? OFC he has to combat this super effective move with a mumbled comment about how “well.. your hair looks really dumb” but how’s he supposed to speak up and insult you to your face when it looks like that!! “nvm!! ctrl z,,”

But with how shy Idia is around you face to face, he “makes up for it” with how degrading he is online (only with text to speech :’) and the poor prefect is left wondering if they’ve been catfished :( sure the conversation’s a little stale, but he’s never this mean when you see him! You’ve just got to get to the bottom of this!

Your introduction to Ortho Shroud is a little awkward, considering your opening line is “your older brother’s totally my type! And I’m pretty sure he hates me!” But afterwards you two click like nuts and bolts! Idia’s left shaking in a corner of his room bc who says that?? You have to be some kind of idiot! Or better yet, he’s the genius because his master “avoid the loml” play is working!!

Atleast it was. Until Ortho gets the bright idea to set the two of you up in his room. You’re trying to see what his problem is, and he’s stuck because he’s had this raid planned for months, he can’t just bail!

What’ll happen? Stay tuned for the results of noob vs hacker next season!! (They beef it out or make out no third option)

#twst yuu #twst x reader #yuu twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #idia shroud #twst idia #idia shroud x yuu #idia shroud x reader #twisted wonderland idia #idia x reader #ortho shroud

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scribblesofagoonerr · 24 days ago

Text

𝑀𝑜𝓃𝓀𝑒𝓎 Our Girl: Growing Up | 𝒮𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐵𝓎 𝑀𝑒

summary: for the moment that leah met monkey, she knew she was special and she would hold a fond place in her heart.

“Alright, let’s pick up the pace! Keep those passes sharp – don’t let them break down in the middle!” The Arsenal training ground buzzed with energy as your coach’s voice rang out across the astroturf pitch, “Move, move, move! Let’s see some energy out there!”

You were at the back of the group, hoping to stay invisible as you dribbled the ball in quick, precise touches. The other kids were chattering, their parents clapping and cheering them from the sidelines, but you didn’t look up.

You didn’t have anyone in the crowd.

You shuffled closer to the back of the group, your bright yellow Arsenal kit feeling a size too big. You adjusted the football under your arm, hoping to blend into the sea of other players.

“Nice control, keep it up!” Your coach shouted, clapping his hands as he moved through the drills, “That’s great. Don’t be afraid to take a risk!” He continued to encourage, his eyes landing on you, “And you! Don’t hang back, get stuck in! Show me what you’ve got!”

You hesitated for a moment, your heart pounding before you stepped into the drill. With practised ease, you weaved through the cones, the ball glued to your feet.

The hushed whispers of your teammates faded, and for a brief moment, it was just you and the ball.

You knew that today a few of the Arsenal woman senior players would be attending the training session, meeting the next generation of talent.

One of them in particular, eighteen-year-old Leah Williamson stood on the sidelines, watching closely. She was here to help with the session, but her attention kept drifting towards you, the smallest player on the pitch.

There was something special about the way you moved, your touch on the ball, your focus and your determination.

It all reminded her of a certain midfielder.

“Who’s that?” Leah asked, nodding her head toward you as she stepped closer to the coach.

“That one?” Your coach replied, glancing your way, “She’s only nine, but she’s got something special about her. Fast, clever, and fearless on the ball. She’s a natural talent.”

Leah’s gaze softened as she watched you, “She reminds me of Jord,” She murmured, her voice full of warmth, “She’s incredible.”

“She is,” Your coach agreed, “But she’s quiet. Keeps to herself.”

“Why’s that?” Leah frowned.

“It’s… a tough situation at home. She’s been living with her grandma for years. Her dad’s out of the picture, thankfully. But her grandma has been getting poorly recently,” Your coach’s voice faltered slightly, “She’s the one making sure the kid gets to training, paying for everything. But she’s… struggling.”

Leah’s heart clenched, “She’s got no one else?”

“Not that I know of. Grandma’s done everything for her. Don’t know what’ll happen if…” His voice trailed off, the weight of his unspoken words hanging in the air.

As the session wrapped up, Leah watched you linger near the goal, clutching the ball like it was your lifeline. You stood alone, unsure of what to do next, looking small and lost.

Leah approached cautiously, crouching down to meet your eye level, “Hi, I’m Leah,” She introduced herself, her voice gentle, “What’s your name?”

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the ball, and then whispered your name so quietly that Leah had to lean in to hear it.

“Wow,” Leah said softly, smiling warmly, “That’s a great name.”

“I don’t like it…” You mumbled, looking at the ground, “It makes me sound like I’m a boy.”

“I think it suits you, and you know, I swear there’s a superhero with that name…” Leah retorted, trying to get a smile from you, “I was watching you out there on the pitch. You’ve got some serious skills for such a little kid. You remind me of a certain well-known midfielder at Arsenal. You know her?”

“Really?” Your eyes lit up in amazement.

“Yeah,” Leah nodded in agreement, beaming a wide smile, “How long have you been playing?”

“Since I was little,” You answered, your voice more confident now.

“You’re incredibly talented, kid,” Leah said, her tone filled with admiration, “Do you have anyone picking you up?”

You shook your head, not looking up, “I’m taking the bus.”

Your grandma would usually bring you to your training sessions, but she’s been starting to get poorly so it’s been more difficult. She gave you enough money for a bus ticket to get home from training. You’re a smart girl though and she had taught you so you knew the exact route to take, and where to get off.

Leah felt a pang in her chest, but she kept her voice light, “Well it’s getting pretty cold. How about I give you a lift home instead?”

“O… Okay then,” You agreed, somewhat hesitant to agree, but Leah seemed kind enough.

Leah smiled, grabbing her car keys in one hand and guiding you with her other, “Come on then, kid. My cars’ just parked outside,” She motioned in the direction where her car was parked in the car park.

“Do you have good music?” You question curiously.

Leah chuckled in amusement, “I think I do,” She unlocked the car door, slipping into the driver’s side of her car, “Where too?”

You gave her an address, and she popped it in her sat nav. Leah felt like there was something familiar about the address when she heard the street name.

“You can choose the music if you’d like?” Leah offered you her phone, you took it cautiously and scrolled through until you found a song that felt familiar to to you.

Hearing the familiar beat of the music start to play, Leah looked at you in surprise, “You like this song?” She asked.

A small smile tugged at your lips, “It’s one of my grandma’s favourites. She likes to sing it all the time.”

Leah’s smile softened, “You want to know a secret? It’s my go-to karaoke song.”

“Really?” You gasped in shock.

“Mhm,” Leah agreed.

“It’s a bit old for you, isn’t it?” You couldn’t help but cheekily ask.

Leah shot you a playful look, “You little– You cheeky monkey,”

You giggle in amusement as Leah shoots you a look of faux upset, “I can’t believe you just called me old. I’m not old.” She said.

The drive back to your grandma’s house felt comfortable, there was no uneasy tension like you thought there would be, and it felt normal to be in the car with her.

“I heard your grandma’s been a bit poorly recently,” Leah brought up the topic.

“Yeah, she’s not… I don’t know what’s wrong with her, but she’s not gettin’ better. I don’t… I don’t know why,” You admit, worriedly. Your grandma is the only family you have ever really known, and you don’t like the idea of her being ill.

Leah’s brow furrowed in sympathy, “I’m sorry to hear that, Monkey. That must… That must really be difficult,” She mumbled.

“All I’ve ever known is my grandma,” You break the silence in the car, fumbling with your hands as you glance down, “I’m… I’m scared if anything happens to her.”

“I know you must feel really scared about that right now, and it’s normal to have all these big emotions, but I’m sure that your grandma is going to get no better in no time!” Leah reassured you, giving you a soft smile as she turned the corner and pulled into the familiar street, “I thought I recognised this street. Do you know, my grandma lives over in the house, right over there!” She pointed in the direction of the house on the corner.

“Cool,” You replied, unbuckling your seatbelt, “I’d better go inside or my grandma will be worried.”

“Of course,” Leah nodded in agreement, “If you want, to save you from getting the bus, I can come and pick you up from training if you want. It’s not safe for someone your age to be getting the bus on your own at night.”

You were hesitant to agree, but the thought of getting on the bus in the dark was a bit frightening, “Thanks, Leah.”

“It’s no problem, Monkey,” Leah answered without missing a beat.

You tilted your head in confusion, “Monkey?”

“You’re a cheeky little Monkey,” Leah explained, “I think it’s fitting to call you that,”

“I… I like it,” You agreed.

Leah smiled, ruffling your hair, “Bye, Monkey. I’ll see you soon!”

Time passed and Leah kept her promise, faithfully picking you up after your training sessions and dropping you home. When she wasn’t tied up with her own commitments, she stayed to watch you play.

Gradually, she became a steady presence in your life, one that could always count on.

The next time she came to watch, Leah wasn’t alone. She had brought someone along– someone who made your heart race with excitement.

“Leah! Leah!” You squealed, darting toward her and throwing your tiny arms around her legs in excitement, “You’re here– Guess what!”

Leah gasped dramatically, crouching down to your level with a playful grin, “What? Tell me!”

“I nutmegged someone and then… and then I scored!” You exclaimed, practically bouncing with pride.

“I saw it the whole thing. You were amazing out there,” Leah chuckled fondly, her gaze soft as she noticed the beads of sweat glistening on your forehead. Gently brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your eyes, she smiled, “I hope you don’t mind that I brought someone along with me this time.”

Your eyes widened as you caught sight of the familiar face beside her, “You’re… You’re Jordan Nobbs!” You blurted out, excitedly and nearly bounced on the spot.

Jordan chuckled softly, her warmth instantly putting you at ease, “I am! Leah’s been telling me all about you, so I thought I would come and see it with my own eyes.

You couldn’t hide your excitement, “Really? You think so?”

“You’re incredible, little one,” Jordan said with an encouraging smile.

Your cheeks flushed with pride, and before you could say more, Leah leaned in with a teasing grin, “I think someone’s a fan, huh?”

“Leah! Stop!” You groaned, mortified, “You can’t embarrass me in front of Jordan– she’s so cool!”

Leah’s laughter echoed as she ruffled your hair affectionately, “Alright, alright. I won’t say anything more,” She joked, “Shall we get you home? You can tell your Grandma all about your training.”

“I’m gonna tell her everything!” You exclaimed, brimming with excitement.

“Sounds like a plan, little one,” Jordan chuckled.

“Got everything you need?” Leah asked, glancing at your bag.

“Yup!” You replied, suddenly breaking into a mischievous grin, “Race you to the car– Last one there’s a rotten egg!”

“She’s something, isn’t she?” Jordan said with a chuckle, shaking her head as she picked up the pace to keep up with you.

“Oh, absolutely,” Leah agreed, jogging alongside her, though both made a deliberate effort to let you win.

“I won! I won!” You cheered, bouncing on the balls of your feet by the car.

Jordan bent over, pretending to catch her breath, “Man, you’re so fast! How am I supposed to keep up with a champ like you?”

You beamed with pride, “Told you I’d win!”

Leah opened the car door with a grin, “Alright, little champion, hop in and buckle up. Let’s get you home.”

“Aye-Aye, Captain,” You giggled, climbing into the car, still riding the high of the victory, ready to recount every detail of your day to your grandma.

In the weeks and months that followed, Leah became a regular fixture in your life, always showing up to watch you train before driving you back to your grandma’s house. You would chatter endlessly about football, your favourite players, and anything else that crossed your mind, filling the car with your excitement.

One evening, after an especially gruelling match, exhaustion got the better of you. By the time Leah pulled out of the academy car park, your small head had lolled against the passenger window.

“What music do you want to listen to then tonight, Monkey?” Leah asked, buckling up her seatbelt, expecting you to start yapping to her about anything and everything, “Monkey?”

It was only when Leah turned her head had she realised you were asleep, your soft snores filling the quiet car.

“Oh, bless… You must’ve been shattered, Monkey,” Leah murmured to herself, glancing over at you with a fond smile as she started the ignition on her car to begin the drive to your grandma’s house.

By the time Leah parked her car outside the house, you were still fast asleep. Turning the ignition off, she was initially unsure whether to wake you up. After a moment of thought, she decided against it. Instead, she carefully unbuckled your seatbelt and scooped you up into her arms, mindful not to jostle you awake.

Balancing your weight easily, Leah nudged the car door shut with her hip and locked it with her free hand before heading up the pathway to your grandma’s door.

After a few knocks, the door opened to reveal an elderly woman with a kind smile.

“Hi there dear,” The woman greeted warmly, “You must be Leah?”

Leah blinked, surprised, “You know who I am?”

“Oh, of course, dear!” Your grandma chuckled, nodding in agreement, “My granddaughter talks about you all of the time. I was wondering when I’d finally get to meet you.”

Leah laughed, softly adjusting her hold on you, “I see, I coach, well… I look out for her at the academy. She fell asleep on the drive, and I didn’t want to wake her up. I thought I’d carry her to the door.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Leah,” The woman said grateful, peering at you sleeping peacefully in Leah’s arms, “I’m Jean, by the way. Would you like to come in? I’ll pop the kettle on.”

Leah hesitated, but the invitation was so genuine that she found herself nodding, “Sure, that’d be lovely, thank you.”

“You can lay her down on the sofa if you’d like,” Jean suggested as she led Leah inside, “She’s a heavy sleeper, always has been.”

Leah carried you carefully into the cosy living room and gently placed you on the sofa. Spottiing a blanket draped over the armrest, she tucked it around your small frame with a soft smile, “Sweet dreams, Monkey,” She whispered.

“Do you take sugar, Leah?” Jean called from the kitchen, bustling about as she put the kettle on and set out two mugs.

“Uh, yeah, two please,” Leah replied, stepping into the kitchen to offer her help.

“Take a seat, dear,” Jean insisted, motioning toward the oak table, “I’ve got this.”

Reluctantly, Leah sat down, her hands wrapping around the warm mug Jean handed her moments later.

“Help yourself to a biscuit,” Jean encouraged, pushing a tin toward her guest, “I know you footballers have to follow a somewhat strict diet, but one or two won’t hurt.”

Leah grinned sheepishly, taking a couple of biscuits and dunking one into her tea, “Thank you. You know, your granddaughter has some special talent. I was mesmerised from the first day that I saw her.”

Jean beamed with pride, her eyes twinkling, “That’s my girl. She’s loved football ever since she could walk. Wait– let me show you something,” She shuffled over to a cabinet and pulled out a photo album, “Here it is– my little footballer.”

Leah’s face lit up as she studied the photo of you in a tiny Arsenal kit, a football clutched in her hands, “A childhood Gooner, eh?” She teased, her grin widening.

“Oh, always,” Jean chuckled, “It used to be me and her granddad that would take her to the matches until he passed away. I’ve spent every penny I have on kits, boots, anything she needed. She deserved it. I’m so proud of her.”

“She’s incredible,” Leah agreed, flipping through a few more photos.

“After her granddad passed, I would still try and take her to as many matches as I could,” Jean said wistfully, “It’s harder now, with my age and all, but it warms my heart to see her so happy. That girl loves her football more than anything.”

Leah nodded, her admiration for you and your family growing with every word, “ She’s lucky to have you, Jean. I’m going to do my best to look out for her at the academy.”

“That means the world to me, Leah. Thank you,” Jean told her, honestly, “I love my granddaughter, and her happiness is what matters the most to me now.”

“Leah! When we get back to me grandma's will you build that Lego set with me?” You are practically vibrating with excitement as you tug impatiently on her hand to walk in the direction to her car after you had finished your training session that evening, “You promised we could last time!”

“I did, didn’t I?” Leah chuckled, knowingly, “You bet I will, but… only if you make sure you’ve done all your homework first,” She added, knowing you would duck out of the opportunity to do your homework given the chance.

“Urgh, but it’s so boring doing it,” You grumble in the complaint, not so keen to do it at all, “My grandma said she would help me with it, but she’s been too poorly to do it, but the lady who comes to help grandma helps sometimes.”

It made Leah concerned to hear about your grandma not doing so well again, “Oh no. That’s not good," She said, unlocking her car, "Is she okay?”

"I don't know," You shrugged your shoulders, rushing to get inside the car and buckle your seatbelt, "She thinks that she doesn't know she's getting more poorly. But I know, cos' I'm almost ten and I'm smart, and I know things... I'm scared, Le." You admit, quietly.

Leah frowned in concern, squeezing your knee gently, "I know you're scared, Monkey. Remember we talked about all those big feelings? It's normal to feel scared, and I'm sure that the doctors are going to do everything they can to help you, alright? It's going to be okay, Monkey. I've got you."

You nodded, silent for a brief few minutes, "So, can we build that Lego set? Pretty please, I really wanna build it, and you promised. You pinky promised-- You know you can't go back on a pinky promise either!"

"I can't break a pinky promise, can I?" Leah chuckled, watching you with fondness as you bounced about in the passenger seat, "That depends if it's tricky though. I mean, I'm not sure I can handle all those tiny pieces, especially since I'm so old like you're always telling me!" She reached over and started to tickle your ribs.

"Nooo, Le... Leah, stop. I don't... I don't like being tickled!" You protested, squirming away with a giggle.

"Alright, alright, I'll stop," Leah held her hands up in surrender, laughing softly at your indignation.

"Thank you!" You said with an exaggerataed huff, but your bright grin betrayed your delight.

As Leah's car pulled up outside of your grandma's home, you eagerly leapt out of it and wasted no time racing into the house, "Grandma, I'm home! Grandma!" You voice shouting throughout, "Grandma?"

As time went on through the past year, you noticed your grandma becoming more poorly. She had tried to pretend that everything was fine for you, but you were smart enough to realise that there was something wrong.

"Oh, there's my sweet girl," Your grandma wrapped her frail arms around your tiny frame, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head, peering up to spot Leah walking in through the house, with your bags and coat in her hand, "Hello, Leah! Thank you for bringing her home. You're just in time, I've popped the kettle on for a brew."

"Hi Jean," Leah shared a warm and kind smile with your grandma, "That's great, thank you," It had become a bit of a habit that now when Leah would drop you off, she would come inside and chat to your grandma, the two of of them sitting down with a cup of tea--she never did have the heart to tell the elderly woman how much she detested tea.

"Grandma! You should've been me," Your bouncing on your tiptoes, full of energy, "I was the fastest on the pitch. Wasn't I, Leah?"

"You were incredible out there, Monkey," Leah replied in agreement.

"See, grandma? I wish you could've seen me-- Grandma, I have a match coming up soon. Will you come? Please?"

"I will try my best to make it, sweetheart," Jean promised.

You barely took the time to kick off your shoes before bolting into your room, pulling out the Lego set you'd been itching to build with Leah.

As you disappeared down the hallway, Leah stayed behind in the kitchen to talk to your grandma.

"How're you doing, dear?" Jean asked, bustling around the kitchen, in a slower motion, "How's the football going?"

"I'm doin' well, thank you and well, football is keeping me somewhat busy," Leah answered, settling into a seat at the table, "Monkey tells me you've been poorly recently. Is everything okay?"

“I have been,” Jean let out a weary sigh, lowering herself into a chair at the kitchen table, “It’s not good. I have… I have cancer, Leah. It’s terminal…”

Leah’s heart sank, “Jean, I’m so sorry. That’s awful.”

Jean nodded, her hands trembling slightly as she clasped them together, “I love my granddaughter a lot, I have spent the last several years protecting her from… him.”

“Who?” Leah asked, her brow furrowing.

“Her father. My son,” Jean said quietly, her voice thick with emotion, “He’s… He’s not a good man, Leah. He’s an alcoholic, and he’s abusive. Social services got involved when the school noticed bruises on my granddaughter when she was five years old.”

Leah’s stomach churned at the revelation, her hands instinctively clenching into fists, “Jean, I… I had no idea. I can’t imagine how hard that must’ve been for the both of you.”

Jean gave a small nod, her voice trembling as she continued, “I’ve done everything I can to keep her safe, but now… I don’t have much time left. And I’m scared, Leah. I don’t trust her father. Not after everything he’s done.”

“You don’t have to do this alone anymore, Jean,” Leah leaned forward, her voice quiet but firm, “You’ve been strong for so long, but I’m here now. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure she’s safe.”

Jean’s eyes filled with tears as she looked at Leah, her voice breaking, “Promise me, Leah. Promise me you’ll look after her when I’m gone. I don’t have anyone else I trust. She needs someone who’ll keep her safe.”

Leah swallowed hard, the weight of Jean’s words settling heavily in her chest, “I promise,” She said firmly, her voice steady despite the lump in her throat, “I’ll always look after her. You don’t have to worry about that.”

“Thank you,” Jean reached across the table, squeezing Leah’s hand with surprising strength for someone so frail.

Leah returned the squeeze, her eyes meeting Jean’s with quiet determination, “You’ve done everything for her, Jean. I can’t ever replace you, but I’ll do my best to give her the life she deserves.”

Jean’s lips trembled, but she managed a faint smile, “You’ve already made such a difference in her life. I’m so grateful for you, Leah. I’m so grateful.”

“She’s an incredible kid, Jean,” Leah’s voice softened as she replied, “That’s all you. I’ll make sure she knows how much you love her, every single day.”

Jean blinked back tears, “That’s all I could ever ask for,” She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm gonna be ten this year, you know? That's double digits!" You exclaimed, your face pressed against the car window as you eagerly took in everything passing by, "How cool is that?"

Leah gasped dramatically, a playful grin on her face, "Wow! Double digits? That is so cool, Monkey. I bet you're excited, aren't you?"

"Uh huh!" You nodded enthusiastically, "Grandma said we could do something, but... I don't think it'll be possible." You voice trailed off, a hint of sadness creeping in.

Leah glanced at you briefly, her heart aching at the thought of what you were going through. Your grandma's condition had been deteriorating rapidly over the last few months, and she knew how hard it was for you to see her like this. But even so, your grandma always found a way to smile for you, no matter how weak she felt.

"Hey," Leah said gently, her tone softening, "How about we do something together? Just us? Maybe... We could go to the zoo?"

Your eyes lit up instantly, excitement bubbling over, "The zoo? Really? That would be so cool! I've always wanted to go there, but I never got the chance!"

"Well, then it's settled," Leah said with a nod, smiling at your enthusiasm, "We'll go the zoo. Me, you, and maybe we can invite Jord too. How does that sound?"

"Yes!" You squealed, clapping your hands, "Do you think Jordan will come?"

"I don't think there's anywhere else she'd rather be," Leah replied with a light laugh.

"That's so awesome! You're the best, Le!" You exclaimed.

Leah chuckled at your excitement as she pulled up to your house. The door opened to reveal one of your grandma's carers, Lindsey, who greeted you with a warm smile.

"Hiya, sunshine," Lindsey said as you darted inside, "Hiya, Leah."

"Hiya, Lindsey. How're you doin'?" Leah smiled, stepping inside the house.

As your grandma's health continued to decline, Leah stepped in more and more to take care of you, ensuring you had proper meals and went to bed at a reasonable hour.

"Hi!" You called over your shoulder, already rushing off to find your grandma, "Where's grandma? I have to tell her about the zoo!"

Lindsey chuckled softly, "The zoo? That sounds like fun. I bet your grandma will be so excited to hear about it, but she's having a little rest right now. You can tell her all about it when she wakes up, alright?"

"Oh... Okay," You replied, a hint of disappointment in your voice. But you quickly perked up, "Leah! Can we build Lego?" Without waiting for an answer, you disappeared into your room, emerging moments later with an overflowing pile of Lego.

Linsdey watched you with a fond smile, shaking her head as she turned to Leah, "That little ones' a whirlwind. I don't know how Jean keeps up with her."

Leah laughed lightly, following Lindsey inside, "She really is something else," She said, then lowered her voice, "How's Jean doin'?"

"Well..." Lindsey hesitated for a moment before answering, her smile fading, "To tell you the truth, not great. She's going downhill quickly now. I don't know how much longer she has..." Her voice caught slightly, and she forced a sad smile, "God knows what's going to happen to that little girl. Jean thinks the absolute world of her."

Leah's jaw tightened as she nodded, her voice resolute, "I know. And I'm going to do everything I can to make sure she's okay. That little girl will always have someone to take care of her."

Before Lindsey could respond, you came back into the kitchen, arms overflowing with Lego.

"Whoa, Monkey!" Leah exclaimed, laughing, "I swear your Lego pile gets bigger, hasn't it? Alright, we can build some, but after that, we need to think about dinner and then get you ready for bed."

You pouted dramatically, hands on your hips, "Don't be borin' Le, you sound like a proper adult when you say things like that!"

Leah raised an eyebrow, smirking, "I am an adult, cheeky Monkey."

"Yeh, but usually you're more fun and you sound like all adultish now," You huffed, the pout firmly set on your face, "Come on, Le. You should be more fun!"

“That’s it, girls. Stay focused! Let’s set the tone early!” Your coach shouted from the sidelines, clapping his hands, “Good passes, keep it sharp! We’ve got this!”

You could feel the energy buzzing around you as the game kicked off, your teammates moving with purpose. The opposition was strong, but you were determined to give it your all.

“That’s it, kiddo!” Your coach called out as you intercepted a pass and sprinted down the wing, “Keep it moving– Yes, great work! Let’s go!”

You dribbled past your opponent, your heart racing as you looked for an opening. The crowd’s cheers were faint compared to the pounding of your own pulse. But your coach’s voice cut through it all, steady and encouraging, “Stay composed! You’ve got this!”

With a quick pass to your teammate, you set up a perfect play that led to your team’s first goal. The crowd erupted, and your coach was practically jumping on the sidelines.

“Brilliant, girls! That’s how we do it!” He cheered, clapping his hands furiously, “Now keep the pressure on!”

Above the noise, another voice caught your attention.

“Go on, Monkey! Atta’ girl– Yes!” Leah screeched, making her presence known.

You couldn’t help but grin. Leah was louder than anyone else on the sidelines, and it made your heart swell knowing she was there.

“She’s so talented, isn’t she?” Leah turned to the woman beside her and beamed proudly.

“She is,” Amanda, Leah’s mum, replied with a warm smile, “She reminds me of you.”

“Nah. She reminds me of Jord,” Leah said with a wide grin, earning a soft laugh from Amanda.

“She’s incredible,” Amanda added, watching you with a look of admiration.

The match ended with a hard-fought win for your team. Leah’s celebrations were the loudest of all, her cheers practically shaking the pitch. But nothing compared to her reaction when you were named Player of the Match.

“Monkey!” Leah waved in your direction to get your attention.

“Leah!” You ran straight to the blonde girl, your small arms wrapping around her legs as you looked up at her with a lop-sided grin, “You’re here! Did you see me? I won the trophy for Player of the Match!”

“I did, you were amazing out there,” Leah beamed, scooping you off the ground and lifting you into your arms, “I’m so proud of you!”

For a moment, you were so caught up in her excitement that you forgot about the woman beside her. But when you noticed her again, your shyness kicked in.

“Don’t be scared,” Leah said gently, “This is my mum, Amanda. I wanted to show her how amazingly talented you are.”

“Hi there,” Amanda said, smiling warmly.

“Hi,” You whispered, cautious around this new woman. Then, turning your attention back to Leah, you tugged on her sleeve, “Le! Can you take a photo of me and my trophy to show my grandma? I want to show her when I’m home!”

“Course I can, Monkey,” Leah said, pulling out her phone.

You stood there, grinning proudly with your trophy in hand, as Leah snapped picture after picture. You couldn’t wait to show your grandma and tell her all about the game.

“Right,” Leah said after a while, “I guess we should think about getting you home now, shouldn’t we?”

“Uh-huh! I can’t wait to show my grandma my trophy, or my photo– Leah, you have to make sure to show her the photo!” You ramble to her, making the trip back to the car.

But you never got the chance to show your grandma the photo or your trophy.

Your grandma passed away later that day.

And just like that, everything changed.

You ended up moving in with your dad – The man you hadn’t seen since you were five years old.

You didn’t know it then, but that was only the beginning of your world being turned upside down.

#woso x reader #scribblesofagoonerr #monkey #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso one shot #leah williamson x reader #our girl fic #chaos fc reader

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rhiannonsknife · 3 months ago

Text

── SECRETLY HOOKING UP WITH JACKIE TAYLOR

— summary: secretly hooking up with jackie taylor hcs.

— warnings: fem!reader. lowkey mean!jackie. internalized homophobia. she's a lesbian in denial, guys. cheating. some nsfw content. so: mdni. masterlist.

— a/n: this takes place at the very end of the last year of highschool (in my country, you’re either 18 or 19 by the time you graduate!!) so all characters in this are 18+!!

jackie, who always knew exactly who she was and what she wanted.

the popular, picture perfect girl. the captain of the school’s soccer team. the one everyone admired (or wanted to be). she thrived on this attention, on the control, on the perfectly crafted reputation. that was until you came along, slipping right past her carefully built walls & challenging her in ways no one ever had before.

jackie, who makes up excuses for her own actions.

at first, she told herself it was just curiosity. a distraction, maybe even, from the pressure from her constant attempt to appear “perfect”. the first kiss was a spontaneous thing, after all. just a quick, impulsive thing neither of you talked about afterward. “you know this doesn’t mean anything, right?” she’d told you sharply after she had been the one to push you up against the lockers after another game lost. “this was just…I don’t know. a moment. it won’t happen again!”

jackie, who has convinced herself that it really doesn’t mean anything. even if she keeps coming back for more.

each time she does come back, it’s with a new excuse. insisting that it was just fun, a secret game she could control, you and jackie start hooking up in secrecy. she would never let herself fall for you -not really. it’s just another thing she could keep under her thumb. or so she told herself, time and time again.

jackie, who at first, insists on only meeting you late at night or when she’s absolutely certain no one else is around.

she leaves notes in your locker or shoves them into the pockets of your soccer shorts in passing, always keeping her tone casual and nonchalant. “meet me behind the bleachers after school. -j”, “i’ll pick you up at 9. be there. -j” etc.

jackie, who never sticks around after a hookup.

every time, she will come up with some excuse to leave or even have you slip out on a side door. she never seems to feel guilty for making you leave like this either: she simply fixes her hair in the reflection of her mirror, meeting your eyes when she notices you staring. “what are you waiting for?” she asks, like it’s obvious what you’re supposed to do next. with a sigh, she turns around. “you should go. i invited jeff over, he’ll be here soon and i don’t want him asking questions.”

because, right, jackie who’s in a relationship with jeff.

you’re pretty sure she doesn’t actually love him, judging by the way she talks about him so casually after you’ve had your head between her thighs mere minutes ago. it’s all just a necessity, a part she plays in order to keep up the perfect facade of the girl she’s supposed to be. you don’t fit into the picture here. but she’s with him all the same, just getting off on your face so she can release some pent-up energy before she has to fake it with him later that same day.

jackie who’s actually rather inexperienced when you first start this…

…and only ever knew slow, unfulfilling sex under the blankets and in missionary. she’s demanding and in control when she first shoves your hand down her pants eagerly, but her face and the way she doesn’t yet know how to move and what to do with herself doesn’t go unnoticed by you. she’s not a virgin when you first fuck her, but she’s only ever had jeff before, who never quite knew how to make her feel good. naturally, this is all new territory she’s exploring with you. having her in your lap, experimentally playing with her nipples and pushing your thigh up between her legs, seeing what’ll work best for her. “oh, that feels good” she moans when you suck on her breasts, right before burying her hands in your hair and pushing you further against her chest. “right there, don’t stop.”

jackie who loves it when you go down on her. (dare i say oral fixation in general….?)

jackie loses it when you first put your mouth on her. jeff certainly hadn’t done that for her yet, and she’s surprised at how good your tongue feels, lapping up her arousal. jackie actually has to press her face into her pillows so her neighbors won’t hear her moans. she’s so vocal for you, generally speaking, making hookups in any public place nearly impossible and always adding a little risk to them which thrills her. ever since, you’ve learned all her favorite spots, know how to make her cum hard and fast, and what to do to tease her and make the most of the experience of being between her thighs.

jackie who will constantly remind you that it’s nothing serious between the two of you.

“this doesn’t mean anything,” jackie says, her lace panties not even fully back in place yet. she’s on the passenger seat, your fingers covered in her release still. you awkwardly wipe them on the denim of your jeans, grimacing at the stain they leave. “look,” she doesn’t even look at you, only fixes her hair in the rearview mirror. “i don’t want you getting the wrong idea.” jackie goes through her purse, fishing out a tube of lipstick and reapplying it in the places your mouth has smeared it. “i’m not- i’m straight. i’m with jeff. this is just-“ and then she trails off and you never learn what it is that she wanted to say. sometimes it feels like she’s reminding herself, rather than you.

jackie who, regardless of this, has these moments where she almost seems jealous.

in spite of her insistence on keeping things casual, jackie can’t stand seeing you talk to other people -especially girls. whether it’s in the halls or at parties, she will bring it up later on. “is that your type now?” she asks breathlessly, arms draped around the back of your neck. “or are you just trying to get a reaction?” it’s almost conversational like she’s not simultaneously bouncing on your fingers. but before you can assure her that you were not flirting with anyone, she brushes it off like she never said anything at all, her head thrown back as she moans: “fuck, that’s so good, keep doing that”

jackie who barely acknowledges you at school or during soccer practice anymore.

she’ll still steal little glances when you’re not watching. but other than that, she ignores your existence entirely, claiming it’s so people won’t ask questions or notice that things are different between you. once, shauna teases her for “sneaking around” and “always disappearing at parties”. ever since jackie makes sure you’ll lie for her too. “if anyone asks” she reminds you. “i wasn’t with you. it’s just…easier this way. understood?”

jackie whose guard is slightly lower than usual after parties.

maybe it’s the alcohol in both of your systems that makes you bolder than usual. either way, jackie often insists on walking you home afterward which always ends in either of your bedrooms. these are the rare occasions where she’ll have you spend the night and doesn’t make you leave. once, she falls asleep on your shoulder and pretends not to remember the next morning. “i don’t know what you’re talking about” she says stubbornly. “we were drunk! last night was…whatever. let’s not make it a thing” you know that she’s lying, but don’t call her out on it as you climb out of her window and sneak around the taylor’s residence. it is only for you to know how sweet jackie looks when drifting off to sleep on your chest.

jackie who sometimes, rarely, does these little things for you that she won’t acknowledge.

you don’t even know if she’s aware that she’s doing them in the first place. she brings you a water bottle after practice, or slips you a piece of gum before a test. “don’t read too much into it” she mumbles, pushing the bottle into your hands and sitting down by your side. “just had an extra one left”

jackie who suggests you grab ice cream on your way from practice and pays for your order no questions asked.

“don’t think this is some kind of date” she mutters as she slides back into the passenger seat, an ice cream cone in her hand. “it’s just too hot out. you looked like you could use the refreshment”. you would love to believe it, but it’s hard when you end up in the backseat anyway, and you can still taste the strawberry flavor on her tongue.

jackie, who treats your interactions like a challenge.

like a test of her self-control. she’ll play with your feelings, see how you react, and then brush it off and pretend it never happened. “relax” she laughs whenever she notices your frustration. “why are you taking this so seriously? you know i don’t like you like that”

jackie, whose mood shifts drastically after a good game.

after winning an important soccer game, jackie is always easier on you. there are rare moments of tenderness between the two of you, especially when one of you scored the winning goal. these are the nights where jackie will actually touch you too, taking her sweet time worshipping your body and giving you the attention you’ve been wanting for all the weeks leading up to this. she’ll finger fuck you deep, panting into your mouth as she slams her index- and middle finger into you. “that’s it” she breathes, grinding down on your thigh simultaneously. “that’s it, cum for me, come on.”

speaking of which: jackie, who throws herself at you after a big win for the team.

after you score the winning goal, jackie impulsively hugs you without thinking, lingering way too long as she inhales your scent and dwells in the sensation of your arms around her. when she realizes, she pulls away quickly, blaming her red cheeks on the exhaustion. "it's called celebration" she scoffs, without you even saying anything to call her out.

jackie, who asks for your help when the finals are right around the corner.

she would've asked shauna, she claims, but apparently, she doesn't get the subject either. it's bullshit, you know that. shauna is better at most subjects than you and jackie combined. but you don't tell her that and instead accept her invitation to go to her place under the guise of studying. obviously, the familiar tension builds instantly as the conversation drifts from biology and into personal territory. her parents are right next door so you have to keep quiet and restraint when she shoves the books and notes from her desk so she can sit on it whilst you stand between her thighs. she kisses you hungrily, hips grinding into the hair that's between you, whispering to you under her breath. "no one can know" she hisses into your ear, her fingers fumbling with her belt. "so don't you dare make any sounds". as always, she brushes it off after riding out her orgasm on your fingers, saying it was just to "get it out of her system"

jackie, who fucks you after a fight over your current situation.

you get into an argument after you confront her about the way she'd been treating you. jackie cuts you off mid-sentence and you hate that you let her. you know she's mostly doing this so she won't have to hear you out on the topic, and still, you let her ravish you. "this doesn't change anything, you hear me?" she mutters, already shoving her hand down your pants as if to fuck the thoughts right out of you. "you shouldn't expect anything different". you cum embarrassingly fast when she starts pumping her fingers into you.

jackie, who has protective tendencies that she'd never admit to.

she would never admit it, but jackie feels a surge of protectiveness whenever she sees someone acting overly friendly with you. she'll never tell you why she's irritated all of a sudden, but her sarcastic comments usually give it away. "wow, guess you'll really hang out with anyone" she scoffs through the phone when you turn her down once. "you must be really desperate". and with that, she hangs up. you should be upset with her. instead, you just grin to yourself as you set the receiver down. jackie is jealous, no matter how hard she tries to deny it.

jackie, who gets uncharacteristically quiet whenever you talk about the future or graduation.

she gets so tense whenever you, or anyone around, brings that up. she never verbalizes her worries, but you get the sense that she doesn't want you to leave for college after the summer. "guess you're finally getting out of you, huh?" she says once. "must be nice"

jackie, who tries to end things with you,

but can't let you go either. she misses a meet-up and doesn't even apologize the next day, then tries to act like it's no big deal. "i had things to do" she claims. "besides, you'll be gone soon anyway. we should get used to this". yet never does. she never gets used to your absence and starts missing you when you're not around. she genuinely starts seeing you in everything: a song that reminds her of you, an expression you use all the time. every time she's with jeff, she pictures you instead. once, she asks him to go down on her just so she can imagine it's you. his mouth isn't half as good as yours. she fakes her orgasm, then rubs herself raw as he sleeps by her side, biting the back of her free hand to stifle her moans.

jackie, who asks to meet you the night before graduation.

"this is the last time," she says, her voice almost trembling as she grinds against you in the back of your car. "for real this time". you eat her out with her legs thrown over your shoulder and she cries out your name when she cums. you pretend not to notice that she's wiping tears from her cheeks when she gets ready for you to drop her off at home. in return, jackie doesn't call you out when she sees you pocketing her golden necklace that she's purposefully left on your backseat. you'll have an excuse to see her again...

— c.ai link

#˙💌 ̟ !! ─ my works #˙🔞 ̟ !! mdni #jackie taylor #jackie taylor x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you #jackie taylor x you #jackie taylor x female reader #jackie taylor x fem!reader #jackie taylor headcanons

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