#like the way they had him decide to sadly take all the drugs thinking his gf had died from a overdose | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

giuliettagaltieri · 2 months

Text

His Girl

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Childhood friend!Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Featherless birds fall with a splat

Warning: Angst, cursing

Word Count: 4532

Part 1 • Part 2

You aren’t exactly certain how you’d feel with Rafe walking out on you like that.

Partly, you were glad that you somehow managed to face him without breaking but the way his eyes bore on you, it was just awful, like you were physically causing him pain.

And perhaps you were.

JJ saw how your mood has switched after you got your drinks. Your eyes were all blank and you were spacing out. He made the decision for you both to head back and meet with your other friends.

You are sitting with your girlfriends, and JJ decided to join you for the rest of the night. He was entertaining everybody with his overly exaggerated wild stories, trying to get you to focus on him, but your eyes are wandering on a certain someone.

Rafe was gulping down beer, cup after cup. It was too much, even for him.

You understand he’s got an extremely high alcohol tolerance but this is just sad to look at. His face was all red and his shirt was clinging to his back, soaked with sweat.

“You know, I really thought I could finally catch your attention with Cameron all gone.” JJ suddenly leans on the sofa next to you. You sigh, giving a quick smile without looking at him. “But I guess it was stupid of me to swoop in when you are literally in love with him.”

Pursing your lips together, you look away from Rafe to glance at the man beside you. JJ was looking sullen but a trace of smirk is still on his lips, never really looking utterly hopeless. Sometimes you wonder how he was able to master such a carefree façade.

“I really had fun hanging out with you.” You say sadly. “You’re a good friend.”

He scrunches his face. “Good friend. Yeah.”

“JJ, come on.” You laugh at his blatant display of dislike at being called a “friend” but he breaks into a smile. “I really enjoyed being with you. It’s just I don’t…It’s too soon and Rafe-”

“I know.” He cuts you off, his eyes wandering to the man. “He looks like shit.” He mutters and you look over to see just in time Rafe doubling over, looking like he is seconds away from ruining the carpet.

Your back immediately leaves the sofa and you sit up straighter, ready to move whenever Rafe needs you.

“Y/N, he’s not a baby. Let him take care of himself.” JJ chuckles, making you bite your lip, still anxiously watching.

Rafe looks like he’s about to collapse, he was clutching his head and grimacing in pain. Soon enough, he was shoving people away and heading to the bathroom.

“I don’t know, J. I haven’t seen him that drunk since…” You squint at Rafe’ direction in the dark, trying to find a memory to match. “I haven’t seen him that drunk.”

JJ’s brows slowly rise. “Really? Not even when his father found out he did drugs?”

You shake your head. “No, not even then.” You slowly rise from the couch and JJ lets you go.

“Well, I suppose he can’t be left alone, can he?” JJ smiles somberly and you return it apologetically, still thankful that he’s supporting you right now.

Your girlfriends however were not so keen on the idea.

“Y/N, where do you think you’re going?”

“Ladies.” JJ starts, throwing you a wink. “Have I ever told you about that time we fought actual gators?”

You take your time, heading to the bathroom. Your usual caregiver spirit when Rafe is in need has been dampened and you’re not sure she’s making a recovery soon.

The music gets muffled the deeper you go into the dark hallway. The entire house is still buzzing from the music of course but you no longer feel like the speaker’s up your eardrums. And with every step you take, the more you hear. You are careful where you step, making sure your feet don’t step on any creaky floorboards.

You stand there, face to face with the bathroom door, hearing Rafe being absolutely wasted. And is he crying? You bite on your knuckle, brows meeting just a little as you try to listen.

Quietly, you twist the knob open. He was retching, big arms hugging the tiny toilet, his head almost all the way in. You stand there, watching his shoulders shake. His sobs sounded almost hysterical, ripping from his throat.

What has happened to you, Rafe?

“Rafe?” You gently call his name and he turns to you. His hand absentmindedly tried to flush the contents of the toilet, missing it multiple times. You watch him sag, his entire body sitting on his ankles as he looks up to you helplessly.

“Hey.” He drawls. “Wha... wha' are you doin' here?” He asks casually in a coarse voice he got after barfing his guts out. His heavy-lidded eyes look up at you, watching you hesitantly walk towards him. “Shouldn’t be here.” He shakes his head, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

“Rafe.” You say his name so gently, he closes his eyes. He’d pay just to hear you say his name again and again. “Are you alright?” You ask and he looks up at you dumbly, mouth slightly parted before nodding slowly.

“Yes.”

You fish out your own handkerchief and run the tap over it, just enough to dampen the fabric. “You don’t look like you’re alright.” You smile, a hint of teasing on your voice and he scoffs.

“Why ask when you don’…don’t believe me anyway?” He gestured stupidly with his hand and he stills when you grab the said hand. He looks up at you as you wipe the sick off his arm.

“You drank too much.” You mumble as you start to step closer to him, your hand cupping his cheek to wipe at the corner of his lips.

“No, shit.” He wanted to say but the words are stuck on his throat as he just stared at you, taking care of him, touching him, just looking at him again. He drops his hands and his limp fingers rest on the cold bathroom floor. He is feeling too much, how your ankles brush on his thighs, the warmth of your fingers, and the soft dampness of the fabric gliding on his chin.

Have you always been like this to him?

Rafe wonders if he just sat still while you tended to him before, would he have this sight of you all those times. Was he so stupid he missed all opportunities to look at you like this?

“Come back.”

You pause. “What?”

He shakes his head before looking at the pinstriped polo you are wearing. His brows creased, teeth clenching in annoyance as he pinched the fabric. “This…this is mine. You’re wearin’ MY clothes while you’re kissin’ other guys!” He fumes, hands clumsily tugging at your clothes that your knees almost buckle, your hand finding purchase on his shoulder so as to not fall. “That’s fucking un…unacceptable! You like ME! You can’t go ‘round kissin’ other guys when y’ like me!” He suddenly yells and your eye twitches.

Your finger jabs at his chest. “Fuck you!”

Rafe’s glassy eyes widen as his breath gets caught in his throat. Did you just…did you just curse at him?

“Fuck you, Rafe!” You repeat in annoyance. Blood boiling within seconds as you angrily run a hand on your hair, scoffing at the sheer audacity of this man to say those things to you.

You glare at him again and he actually flinches. “Don’t tell me what to do. You have no right to decide for me.” You angrily strip off the pinstriped polo, his head following your wild motion before you crumple it in a ball. “This is your polo?” You raise it and he nods hesitantly, still in shock at your outburst. “Here!” You throw it at his face and you watch it cover his head, his hands are sluggish as he slowly pulls it off.

You’re heaving in frustration both hands on your hips as you look at his crestfallen face, bunching the fabric in his large hands.

“Then I can go kiss other guys now, huh?” You say out of anger and you watch his shoulders sag as he brings his hands to the floor again, fingers twisting the fabric.

He looked absolutely wrecked and your heart starts to feel heavy again. You cross your arms, leaning on the wall as you watch him stare at the floor.

“Why shouldn’t I be allowed to kiss other guys? You made it clear that you don’t like me.” His head shoots up when you say that. “I’m not waiting for you forever.”

Rafe presses the heel of his palms against his eyes before he looks at you in agony, face all red, his bottom lip jutting out just the slightest.

“Y/N, please.” He moves to you, still on his knees as he loosely wraps an arm around your thighs. You looked up at the ceiling when he stared up to you desperately. “’m sorry, please. Don’t leave me ‘gain, please.”

You attempt to push him off but he hugs your thighs tighter, his head pressing on your stomach. “Rafe, let go!”

“No!” He sobbed, his shoulders shaking. “You’re mine! You like me! Not sharing you with that…that fucking pogue-”

“Rafe!”

He flinches again but he doesn’t respond, only hugging you impossibly tight.

“You have to let me go.” You say more calmly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder.

He shakes his head against your stomach. You lean further against the wall, trusting it to hold you up as you surrender, sighing out your frustration as you rub his back, letting him cry on your stomach.

Perhaps JJ was wrong, about Rafe not being a baby. You truly feel like you are calming down an overgrown toddler. A toddler that fed on steroids instead of milk. His arms are tightly wrapped around you, just allowing you to breathe and aside from that, you can’t do anything else. Your free hand that didn’t get caught in his trapping hold, tried to soothe him, trying to tell him that you’re there, with him.

You run your fingers through his buzzed hair, feeling the heat and sweat cling on your fingers.

“You’re a mess.” You mumble, a small smile playing on your lips when his shoulders eventually start to stop shaking. “You got snot all over my belly, ugh.”

Rafe loosens his arms around you and wipes his nose, his eyes glaring at you for a moment. You smile at him smugly as he gathers himself. He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, eyes kept on the polo that he crumpled on his hand like a ball.

“Wanna wash your face?” You giggle.

He glares at you again but actually does what you told him to and takes the mouthwash you casually hands him. You nudge him with your shoulder to get him to scoot over so you can wash your handkerchief. Rafe watches your hands get under the faucet, just calmly watching the water glide over your skin, delicate fingers wringing the fabric that you so gently wiped on his face a while ago.

“’m sorry.” He slurred as he watched you tidying up. “Was so stupid. Sayin’ things that I don’t mean.” He continues, eyes starting to get desperate as you just rifle through your bag, not even looking at him. “Sorry for causing you trouble all the time.” He follows you like a puppy when you move past him to head to the door. “Please, don’t leave me again.”

You grip the doorknob tightly before it loosens in defeat. Rafe’s eyes brighten up when you turn to look at him.

“Why do you boys suddenly become the most honest people when you’re drunk?” You ask exasperatedly, also remembering JJ’s confession on the porch. “But then again, you could just be spouting nonsense.” You open the door this time but he puts a hand against it to close it again.

“I’m not. Please!” Rafe almost begs, his entire frame caging you against the door, his respect for personal space long forgotten as there’s nothing else in his head but to try and get you to understand, to believe. His tongue is heavy and his head is murky due to intoxication, which made him all the more frustrated.

You press your lips together, startled eyes boring into him. You have known that Rafe has an extreme and overwhelming side to him, his entire presence just smothering you in the best ways you can imagine. But with you trying to hold on to the fragile thread of anger and stability, you decide to push him by his chest. “Why don’t we uh…grab coffee? Let you sober up?”

He runs a hand on his face, it’s becoming a habit of his when he’s around you. “Fine. But don’t disregard everything I said just because I’m ‘drunk’. Please.” He said the last word with emphasis, his eyes offering no bargaining, prompting you to nod.

“Alright.”

Rafe looks into your eyes for a couple more seconds, making you understand that he is not willing to accept a half-assed response and you need to take him seriously. He slowly backs up, hands shoving into his pockets while you tongue your cheek, hesitantly opening the door for the both of you.

The blasting music thrums in your ear the deeper you get into the party, maneuvering your way in the sea of hormonal teens. A hand wraps on your wrist and you stop to look who it was.

It was JJ, heaving. He probably ran the moment he saw you. “Hold on, you’re leaving?”

Rafe was quick to pull your hand away from JJ’s hold, immediately squaring up. His chin was titled in a challenge as he eyed the flowers and bows decorating the band-aid on JJ’s chin.

“Rafe, please.” You beg, arms circling on his bicep to stop him from doing anything to JJ, who didn’t look the least bit afraid. In fact, he was looking at Rafe in pure entertainment. “JJ, I’m sorry. I’ll just talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

“No, you won’t!” Rafe seethes but you only roll your eyes at him.

Kissing his teeth, JJ nods. “Yeah, sure. Let me know if you need anything.” He eyes Rafe one more time and smiles at you in his usual relaxed manner. “I’ll tell your friends you left early.”

When you finally made it out of the crammed up beach house, you closed your eyes at the nipping sea breeze. You can’t believe you’re leaving the party with the person you have been trying to avoid for weeks.

“Keys.” You mutter and Rafe hastily digs through his pocket, his hooded eyes blinking as he tries to locate his keys.

Your deadpanned eyes watch him for a few more seconds before he finally passes it to you, along with the pinstriped polo, which you hesitantly take.

He felt weird, having to take the passenger seat, especially when it’s you with him. Rafe gets in the car, his eyes on you the entire time you drive. You’re not exactly acknowledging his presence in the car with you, despite his entire body twisted to face you, his head that is leaning back on the chair never turned to any direction but yours. He didn’t even know you arrived until you were taking off your seatbelt.

Rafe follows you quickly, nearly tripping on his way out. But he plays it cool, pulling his shirt down when it rode up. He meets your eyes briefly in embarrassment. This entire experience is ruining alcohol for him.

Even thinking about the mess he made in the bathroom, with you witnessing, made him want to smash every bottle that will ever grace his eyes again. That shit’s evil. Rafe blinks at the brightly lit convenience store, not yet able to process the colors of the different flavors of ramen and chips. He closes his eyes tightly, nearly driven to overstimulation and seeks out a chair, collapsing on it as he attempts to massage away the bounding pulse on his temple.

He feels you place a hand on his shoulder and the scent of coffee fills his lungs. Rafe looks at you briefly and the swirling liquid placed in front of him. You sat yourself on the chair opposite his and your glossed lips wrap on a straw, sipping on your tall cup of slushie.

After muttering a quick thanks, Rafe picks up the coffee, tentatively blowing on it and watching the steam blow off in your direction before taking a sip.

Your cheeks heat up at the groan he lets out when he takes more sips. His shoulders are slightly hunched and you quietly admire his physique as you continuously slurp, watching his intoxication being masked by caffeine with every gulp he takes.

Realizing that you’re staring, your eyes slowly shift outside the glass, cheeks all warmed up. Rafe sets down his coffee and just takes his time to look at you. He does not know if it’s still the lingering effects of alcohol in his blood or the overly bright lighting in this rundown convenience store, but you look like you’re glowing.

“Y/N.” He attempts to speak but you shake your head.

“Give it time, please. Coffee doesn’t magically cure intoxication, you know.” You smile softly to reassure him.

Rafe smiles back before taking another sip. He watches you turn to the road outside again. There you were, in front of him again after weeks of not seeing each other, just sipping on sugar and ice as you swung your feet that were clad in babydoll heels, with pretty straps that he always found cute and alluring. Despite the cozy choice of clothing, you never go without a statement piece.

He steals another glance at your clothes, along with the pinstriped polo you decided to wear again. He takes another sip of coffee. “It looks better on you.”

You look down on your clothes, lips pressing together before giving him a curt smile. “…Thanks.”

“Sure.” He nods. Both of you look at each other for a while, not quite certain what to do with the still tense atmosphere before simultaneously looking away, like a couple for teenager going on a first date, it’s fucking ridiculous.

Time passed with not a single word being uttered between you. Rafe watches how the coffee stained a line on the cup every time he takes a sip, the liquid now cooled, and your slushie cup was starting to sweat and leave trails of water everytime you move it. His eyes were starting to focus again and once he was confident in being able to speak without slurring, he cleared his throat to garner your attention.

“Listen.” He begins but the words lodge themselves in his throat the moment your curious eyes flit to him, perhaps this was a bad idea. He never knew what to say. Rafe doesn’t know if he can last one conversation without offending you somehow. “I know I hurt you. And I know it wasn’t just that time at the party.” He presses a knuckle on his lips to gather his thoughts. “I always take you for granted, when all you ever did was take care of me.”

You cross your arms in an attempt to make yourself feel protected as you lean back, eyes avoiding him.

“Your kindness and efforts. Your…feelings. They were so easy to overlook when you gave them to me every single day without fail.” He tries to reach out to you but stops midway and drops his hands on the table. “I never knew what I had until you decided to take everything away.”

Your eyes sharpen and he winces at his careless mistake.

“I mean, until I finally succeeded in pushing you away.” He reworded his sentence, making sure to pin the blame on himself instead of you. He hated how hurt he made you feel. He felt like shit. He never cared when people called him an asshole or a psycho, but after what he did to you, he felt like every label given to him was all real, and this time, it hurt.

He had girls before, and all the wanting he can associate with them is the feeling of fleeting euphoria when they’re under him, that is all. Rafe never missed anyone, or anything about anyone. Until you came along.

Rafe found himself in the middle of the night, missing you calling him by his name. He missed your smile and scent. His cheeks suddenly go wild red when he remembers the mess he made out of himself when he got your shirt, one you accidentally left in his room, up his nose during those nights when the longing just beats him up.

“I regret everything I said and done.” He says, trying to get back on track to apologizing. “And if you want to be my…friend again…” He takes a deep sigh. “I’ll do better.”

You chew on your bottom lip, eyes shyly meeting his, and you uncross your arms slowly.

“You promise?”

Rafe nods quickly, a small smile appearing on his lips as his hand darts out to hold yours. “Yes, I promise! Just don’t shut me out again.”

Gently, you shift your hand to wrap around his and he gladly holds yours back securely.

“I’ll try to be less…controlling too.” You look away. “I won’t bother you as much and I won’t cling to you in parties or wherever-”

“I thought we’re okay already?” Rafe was dumbfounded.

“We are.” You say, equal confusion in your eyes.

“Then why are you still staying away from me after this?” He asks in frustration.

Your lips part, trying to form words but his statement just muddles everything up.

“I…I just didn’t want you to get fed up again.” You say quietly and he grabs both your hands this time, pulling them to his chest.

“Baby, I don’t care, just come back to me, alright?” He says quickly, you don’t think he realized what he called you just now. “I don’t care if you call me six times a day to argue that raisins do not belong in bread or if you hold my hand in every party we go to.”

The heat in your cheeks slowly travels to your neck. “Rafe.”

“You can have me drive you around the island when you get hungry at three in the morning.” He beams in a surge of confidence and affection. “I’ll let you fix my clothes as it pleases you so much, slap as many hello kitty bandaids on my face as you want.” He laughs, making you smile too. “I-I don’t even know what I’m saying right now, just please let’s go back to how we were before, yeah?” He presses a kiss on your knuckles. “I don’t want to hear any of this plan you have. I just want you with me again.”

At this point, there really is nothing you can say and you can only nod. You are glad that Rafe is satisfied with that response.

After a few more minutes of you catching your breath in silence, you decide to call it a night. Rafe, now sobered up, decided to drive, and let you enjoy the passenger seat like you always do.

Despite the conversation you had in the convenience store, both of you can’t shake off the feeling that you’re forgetting something. Like there is something you are purposefully holding back from each other, and it visibly makes you antsy, Rafe more than you.

He taps his finger on the wheel, tugging at the seatbelt every now and then as you continuously shift your eyes from the road and back to the car interior.

When he finally pulls over in front of your gate, neither of you want to move, still waiting for that something to happen. But as another moment passes, you realize that perhaps it’s time to leave it here for now, to take things slowly, see where it takes you. But he isn’t sure if he wants that, to see you slip away again, like the finest sand between his fingers.

“Uhm…thanks for the ride.” You make a move to open the door but Rafe was quick to lock it, making your brows meet in a soft frown. “Rafe-”

He cuts you off by clumsily pulling his seatbelt off, cupping both your cheeks to smash his lips on yours. It wasn’t careful nor romantic, just pure unadulterated need and impulse. You can feel the tremble in each other’s lips, the fear that one of you might pull away, the fear of what comes next, the fear of not having the other’s love returned in the same intensity.

But as your breath mixes, your tears soaking each other’s cheeks, your body slowly melts into each other’s arms. He was desperate, biting and sucking your lips, everything in his kiss wanted to possess you, making your chest tighten in having everything you ever desired at this moment.

Rafe pulls away abruptly, a thin line of spit still connecting your lips when he looks deep into your eyes. “Tell me you still love me.” He begs while he cradles your face.

“Rafe.” You push him away gently but he presses his forehead against yours, his shoulders shaking.

“Tell me, please.” He squeezed his eyes, not knowing what response he would be receiving. He knows he’d die if you reject him, with his soul open and bared to you in its most vulnerable form.

His eyes slowly open when he feels a soft caress on his arm and you’re smiling at him with your tears cascading down your face.

“I love you.”

It felt like Rafe had winter melting in the palm of his hand, giving birth to spring. Whatever doubt and fear is replaced with nothing else but sweet sweet warmth. He is being shrouded with undeniable assurance that made him feel invulnerable yet ironically, impossibly vulnerable. He had nothing moments ago, and suddenly he got a taste of everything, all at once. He has you. Just as you have him.

He laughs and kisses you breathlessly. “God, Y/N, I love you. I love you, I love you.” He litters your face with wet kisses, making you laugh, before he kisses your lips once more, his teeth nibbling on your kiss-swollen lip. “Mmmh, did you get a new lip balm?”

You gently pry his hands from your face as you continue to laugh. He meets your eyes with sheer adoration, head still trying to wrap around the fact that you are his girl. His girl. His girl.

God, he’d gladly die if you told him to, just to prove his dedication.

“I love you.” He whispers gently, intimately, vulnerably.

And with equal passion, you reply, “I love you too.”

Rafe has never felt this kind of happiness in his life, not once. You are his natural high, the ecstasy he’s been chasing. And now that he has you in his arms, he’ll fight tooth and nail to keep you there with him.

Not Your Girl • Not Her Man

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron #outer banks #obx #rafe angst #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe imagine #rafe obx #rafe cameron outer banks #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey #rafe cameron obx #childhood friend!reader #outerbanks rafe

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marksbear · 2 years

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Hi papa bear! How are you doing? I hope you're taking some time for yourself self to relax! I see that you've been busy lately so I won't ask for a long story.

I just had an idea for Billy Hargrove x male reader where y/n is bored so he decides to visit Billy. So it's late at night and y/n is about to get in trough Billy's window but hears yelling from the inside. And so he walks around the house towards the yelling abd looks in to a window that doesn't have closed curtains and sees Niel hurting billy. So y/n gets in by kicking down the door and beating the shit out of Niel and than takes Billy to his house because he doesn't want him staying anywhere near his dad. And than maybe some fluff.

I hope that's not long!

Please and thank you!

Have a good day!

- Day 🦔

I'm doing good Day! I hope your having a great day as well! I love Billy with all my heart, so I don't mind you requesting this!

BILLY HARGROVE X MALE READER

Y/n laid in his bed bored out of his mind. He spent hours and hours trying to find any source of entertainment. But sadly none of the things he tried really didn't give him what he was looking for.

The boy groans in his pillow about to aspect defeat, but suddenly an idea hits him right in the head. "Why didn't I think this before." Y/n says to himself getting off of his bed and rushing to put on some clothes.

Y/n quickly puts on his shoes and walks out the house before locking the door. So now in the middle of the night the boy walks to his five month boyfriends house to probably annoy him until they sneak out and walk around town like usual.

Y/n makes a few quick stops to a drug store buying him and Billy a few snacks and cigs before going back to his journey. Y/n walks on the sidewalk humming to himself as he makes his way to his boyfriend's house.

Timeskip

"Fuck finally i'm here." Y/n thinks to himself out loud looking at his boyfriend's house that's currently across the street.

A tiny smile grows on Y/n's face imagining his boyfriend's reaction when he sees him so he hurries and crosses the street.

Y/n sneaks over to Billy's window and looks inside. Y/n eyes look around in the dark room trying to make out anything. "Weird. Where the hell are you Bills..." Y/n breathes out. Usually his boyfriend would be in the bed or at the mirror, but this time hes no where in the room.

Y/n sets the bag with the snacks and drinks on the porch.

Then there's a loud noise.

Insistingly Y/n looks around behind him making sure theres nothing there, but then he hears it again.

Y/n presses his ear to the window and hears muffled shouting. It's coming from inside. Y/n moves away and begins to crouch down and walk around the outside of the house from where the noise is coming from.

"What the hell." Y/n breathes out looking at the bright window before walking to it. The window had it curtains up, so naturally Y/n looked inside the window.

Y/n felt his blood run cold and his heart sank at the sight.

Billy was on the floor gasping for air as Neil kicks and stomps on him with a broken bottle in hand. Billy's face was covered in bruises and cuts on him from most likely from the beer bottle.

Y/n didn't know what took over him. what made him that fast to react.

He bolted to the front of the house and tried to open the front door shaking and slamming his body against it over and over again. His shoulder was hurting, but he didn't give a damn. Y/n banged on the door over and over again. "Fuck this!" Y/n said before kicking the door with all his might. Kick after kick after kick until finally the door busted open. Y/n ran to the room with the light and for a short second him and Neil made eye contact.

But Y/n wasn't here to just let him keep hurting his boyfriend. He had enough. Y/n tackled him without hesitation not giving him a second to react before punching him. One in the jaw next to the cheek and the other right in the nose before rage over took him. Y/n only saw red as he beat the living hell out of a drunk man. Y/n knuckles started to ache and bleed, but he didn't care.

He grabbed Neil's shirt collar and brought him up before head butting him square in the face. Y/n repeated the action over and over again until Neil paced out.

Even when the grown man passed out Y/n was still fighting. But finally what brought Y/n out of his haze when he heard Billy cry out in pain.

Y/n quickly dropped Neil's head before rushing over to Billy who was currently on the floor. "Curls!-- I mean Billy!" Y/n says moving his hands on Billy's face cupping him.

"Cmon blue don't die on me! I've got you." Y/n shouts in panic before picking up Billy. Y/n wraps his arms around Billy tight making sure he has a good grip before leaving the house.

"Were going to my house don't worry." Y/n says.

Timeskip

Y/n unlocks the front door to his house before walking inside going inside and straight to his room. Y/n sets Billy on the bed before going through his closets getting Billy some new clothes.

"Where did you learn to fight like that?" Billy questions with a smirk. "Thought all you idiot jocks were good for nothing besides playing stupid sports." Billy jokes earning a glare from Y/n.

"First of all. You asked out this idiot jock. and Secondly were good at other things." Y/n says before adding.

"Learned half of it from you and the other half from the locker room fights." Y/n says rolling his eyes before throwing the clothes at Billy.

Y/n takes off his shirt and pants leaving himself almost naked only his boxers covering him.

"You look so cute in my clothes curly~" Y/n whispers to Billy's ear before getting up to the bathroom getting a few thins to help out Billy's bruises.

"What happened." "Don't want to talk about it." Billy says shutting Y/n down. "Okayy. How about we skip school tomorrow and then hopefully talk about it." Y/n suggests before going back in the room with alcohol and bandages. Y/n begins to treat Billy's cuts and bruises with a light kiss here and there when he flinches.

"Why were you at my house in the first place?" Billy questions moving Y/n's hand out of his face. "I was bored. I wanted to do what we always do at this time of night. But i'm glad I came when I did." Y/n says taking Billy's face in his hands.

Out of nowhere water begins to pour down from Billy's eyes. Y/n acts quickly by wrapping his arms around him hugging him tight. "It's okay curls...Your dad isn't gonna do anything to you when i'm around you hear."

"I'm right here baby... You're safe." Y/n says before crawling on top of Billy cuddling him.

"I love you." Billy says weakly on Y/n's shoulder as he cries. "I love you to baby."

THE END

#billy hargrove #billy hargrove x male reader #stranger things x male reader #x male reader #male reader #the bear club

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shreddeddescent · 16 days

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hhhhh yeah ok just for funsies.....

here's a snippet (its way longer than a snippet its 4000 words) of the worst case scenario story i wrote.

idk how much of the specifics will be canon. but i do think this is such a good blow up that it would be mean to keep it to myself.

maybe im posting it just to be like YEAH OK HERES THE TONE. IF YOURE NOT COMFORTABLE THEN YOU CANT BE HERE...

Warnings for mentions of: CSA rape forced incest uhhhh more probably. nothing shown but much mentioned. possibly warnings for more im not even thinking of. Im sorry just be careful.

Don’t be fucking weird about it to me ok we are in the raw place

so context. shredder kidnapped the boys for days to get what he wanted out of them. implications are clear enough through context i think. lot of drugging. they escaped and killed him (like for real this time) shit is weird and they're handling it as best they can. everyone is aware of this. they've had one therapy session w a weirdly inhuman therapist april found (from her connections in cryptid world) and nobody wants to look their mom in the eye. least of all raph. cuz god does it ever feel bad to know she knows.

the boys seem ok to the naked eye though. hence. this.

When they woke up the next morning Mikey had decided to make everyone pancakes. A true feast of flavours after their days of slop.

Donnie and Leo had set the table and let Raph rest at the head of it, he was still wearing Donnie’s old ratty black hoodie, it fit him perfectly. He’d also found some sweatpants, but those only rode up to his mid thigh. It still helped though.

Mikey was making two batches of pancakes, half with chocolate chips and half without, the pickier eaters with the cool mask colours refusing to try something sweet.

The air smelled strongly of bacon, and it was making Raph’s tummy growl loudly.

“Mikey you better hurry up, Raph’s gonna eat his plate!” Leo joked as he pat Raph on the back.

“You can’t hurry perfection!” Mikey whined as he plated some bacon.

“Uuuughhhh Mikey…! I can see the light!” Raph gasped out and reached his arm out above his head, miming his own death.

Mikey huffed and chucked a piece of bacon on his plate.

“To tide you over you big baby.”

Raph gasped and picked it up between his fingers gobbling it down with a loud moan.

“So fucking good Mikey…”

“Oh you’re all up!”

Raph froze, swallowing hard.

His mom was behind him and he was wearing Donnie’s hoodie. He had just moaned Mikey’s name. And his mom was behind him.

He felt Leo hovering over him but he didn’t move.

“Hi mom.” Leo said gently.

“Decided to make a big breakfast?” She wandered over to look at what Mikey was doing at the stove.

Leo put a hand on Raph’s shoulder when she turned and leaned down to enter his eyeline.

Raph stared at him with a panicked expression. Leo looked sympathetic.

“Yeah, we’re all pretty hungry.” Mikey responded.

“You want some help?”

“I got it, it’s almost done anyway.”

Raph was trying like hell not to have a panic attack. Leo put both arms around his shoulders in a loose hug, leaning down to speak in his ear.

“Deep breaths, Raph, it’s just mom. You’re okay.”

He tried to breathe, placing a hand on Leo’s arm. He saw his mom turn and quickly threw Leo’s arms off him.

She stared at him sadly, but tried to smile anyway.

“How are you feeling today Raphael?”

“Hungry.” He answered quickly. “Just really hungry.”

Her smile faltered for a moment, but she tried to keep it up anyway.

“Well, good thing your brother is such a good cook.” She turned to the fridge to grab some juice.

Raph clasped his chest, he didn’t know why it hurt.

Donnie was staring at him with some concern, he looked like he was about to ask him something so Raph just glared at him and held his finger to his lips.

Donnie rolled his eyes and rest his folded arms on the table.

Raph just stared at his empty plate, trying to calm his nerves.

Leo pat him on the back and shook him gently.

“Raphael do you want me to put on some coffee? Or would you like to take a nap later?”

He stared at his empty plate. Caffeine would make his chest worse than it already was.

“No, I'm very awake right now, super okay.” He super fucking wasn’t okay and he didn’t know why.

She turned around to pour a glass of orange juice for herself.

“Enough food for me to join you boys?”

Mikey turned his head to look back at Raph in question.

Raph stared back at him with an anxious look in his eye. He then looked back at his mom.

“Of course you can eat breakfast with us we’re not avoiding you or anything that would be mean!” He tried to make his words sound as playful as he could but he was pretty sure he sounded crazy.

She gave him a puzzled look but smiled anyway, and sat at the other end of the table.

Donnie gave him the most dumbfounded look, shaking his head slightly.

Leo nonchalantly scooted his chair closer to Raph and leaned over the counter.

“So. What did our doctor tell you?”

Raph kicked him under the table but he didn’t react.

She frowned and clasped her hands around her cup, looking down at it.

“She… said a few things. She told me to give you space, but not be too far in case you needed to talk. I’m trying not to worry, but I’m a little surprised that none of you have seeked me out for anything.”

Raph frowned and rubbed his arm, looking away.

“I.. I’m sorry, feels too raw right now..”

“I think anything we need to talk about can be said to the therapist.” Donnie said.

Raph looked up to glare at Donnie for his rudeness, but he’d stood up to help Mikey bring plates of food to the table.

“Which I understand, but I feel out of the loop. You’ve spoken to April. And this doctor. But no one even looked to me for a hug…”

Raph chewed his lip and closed his eyes. He felt horrible.

“Mom, I’m so sorry I just—“

“Because trying to be physically close with anyone right now is hard, mom.” Leo interrupted. Raph thought his tone was too harsh. “We’ve been through hell and we’re just trying to be normal. It’s awkward and it sucks. But it’s hard to add other people to it.”

Raph groaned and shoved him lightly with his shoulder.

“We’re fine, mom. We’re coping.”

She eyed the two of them carefully with her hands clasped in front of her face as Donnie and Mikey placed the plates of pancakes and meats in front of everyone.

She was looking at Raph’s hoodie, she was looking at how close Leo was to him.

He looked away from her so he could pile as many chocolate chip pancakes onto his plate as he could. Leo leaned over him to add some bacon and hash browns to it, knowing he would forget to diversify his plate.

It was not helping.

Raph grumbled and took a big bite of pancakes. He couldn’t help but moan again. “These are so fucking good, Mikey…”

Mikey grinned from his seat near splinter at the corner. He and Donnie had very different plates, his full of all the variety, Donnie sticking to his plain pancakes with nothing on them.

“Thank you! Worth the wait right?” He asked with his mouth full.

“Yes, I’m sorry.” Raph whined dramatically and stuffed his face more. Eating real delicious food after all that gross paste felt so good. He’d never felt so hungry, he was going to overindulge.

“How are you coping?” Splinter asked suddenly between her bites of food.

Raph tensed and looked up at her, gulping back hard.

“Sorry?”

“You said you were fine and coping. So how are you coping?” She looked up at him with a weird look and he needed to look back down. It was making him queasy.

“I.. I don’t know, we’re just hanging out I guess.” He mumbled and picked at his food.

“Is that a new hoodie?”

He tensed and tried to make himself small.

“No, it’s Donnie’s…”

“Hm.” She washed back her food with a chug of juice.

His brothers weren’t as tense as he was, but they did look uneasy by her presence. It wasn’t unusual, he was usually the only one trying to hold conversation, and he had been the one to inadvertently invite her to join them. They all kind of wanted to be alone.

“Mikey? You should have let me help, you seemed to have forgotten the eggs.”

‘She knows she knows she knows she knows!’

Raph slammed his head down on the counter to shut the voice in his head up.

There was a pause. Leo pressed a hand to his back.

“You good..?”

He picked his head up sharply and grunted.

“Never better.” He started scarfing down the pancakes in as big of bites as he could. Maybe he could finish fast and get out of here.

“I… didn’t make eggs cuz our stomachs are a little too empty for eggs…” Mikey mumbled between bites.

‘She knows he’s lying she knows he’s trying to protect you she knows!’

He clenched his fist around his fork and swallowed hard, staring intensely at his plate. He put his free hand under the table to dig his nails into his thigh instead of hurting his head where she could see it.

Unfortunately Leo noticed and grabbed his hand under the counter to stop him. Which she also noticed.

He slapped his hand away and glared at him.

“Leo what are you doing to your brother?!”

Leo snapped his head up to look at her and he looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“Nothing!”

Raph wished he had hair so he could pull it all out.

“Oh for fucks sake, SPLINTER, we are NOT. FUCKING each other!” Donnie shouted as he suddenly stood up and leaned over the counter.

Raph looked at him in absolute horror.

Splinters eyes went wide and she looked at him angrily.

“What?!”

Donnie growled.

“I can see what you’re doing! You keep eyeing Raph up for being too close to us! You’re assuming the worst!” Donnie gestures to him with one hand without turning his gaze away from splinter. “You’re going to give him ANOTHER panic attack!”

Raph clutched his head in his hands, staring wildly at nothing as he curled his upper body over the counter, facing down at the table.

“Donnie!” He heard Mikey yell as another stool scooted back.

“I-I am not assuming anything!” His mother sounded offended and angry.

“Guys.” Leo said sternly.

“You literally asked him about my hoodie! As if it was the weirdest thing in the world for my traumatized rape victim of a brother to request items of clothing!”

“He’s just never worn anything like that before!”

“Gee Splinter I wonder why!”

“Donnie this isn’t your fight!” Mikey yelled and Raph heard a small smack.

“Someone has to fucking fight for that idiot! Everyone’s fucking dancing around it as if we don’t all know what’s wrong!”

Raph was staring at his plate so hard the colours were burning into his brain.

“No one wants to tell me what’s wrong! Everyone comes home from hell and avoids their mother like the plague! And I am just supposed to not fear the worst?! You have no idea all the things I can smell on you boys!”

“Where was that nose THE FIRST TIME?!” Donnie shouted as it sounded like he slammed both fists on the counter.

“What?!”

He was growling.

“You didn’t smell DAD all over Raph?!”

Raph stood suddenly, hands still clasped over his ears and he didn’t look at anyone, just kept his head facing the ground as he ran out of the room.

He bolted into the bathroom and proceeded to throw up all of the delicious pancakes he’d enjoyed so much. He couldn’t even have one nice thing.

He heard a gentle knock at the open door and didn’t turn away from the bowl.

“I have some water…” Leo said quietly. He made no effort to step inside.

Raph reached his arm back to take the cup without looking.

Leo passed it to him and stayed in the doorway.

Raph kept staring at the bowl, waiting to see if he has anything left before he chugged water and rinsed his mouth out a few times.

“Thanks…” he mumbled as he grabbed toilet paper to wipe his face with.

“Do you want me to sit with you..?”

Raph kept staring at the bowl.

“Yeah…”

Leo walked inside and sat beside him propping up an elbow on his knee.

“Can I rub your back?”

“Why are you asking permission?” Raph looked up at him frustratedly. He was just giving him a sympathetic frown.

“Cuz I think no one is asking how you feel before they decide they know what’s best for you.”

Raph turned back to the bowl, taking in what he meant.

“I… thank you…” he sighed, straightening his back out to look at the back of the toilet. He was pretty sure there was nothing left in him, but he just kind of wanted to sit in this quiet moment away from everyone else. Puke or not.

Leo took it upon himself to flush the toilet for him.

“If it helps, I’m pretty sure Mikey’s gonna chew Donnie’s ear off for that.”

“What does it matter, he’s not wrong.” Raph sighed.

“It was not his place to shout your bullshit at mom.”

Raph turned to look up at him frustrated.

“He’s right though. That’s what hurts.”

Leo frowned and nodded.

“He is, but it’s still not his place to talk over you about you. It’s not moms place to make you feel like shit about yourself when you’re barely holding on. And it’s not Donnie’s place to decide how you tell mom about your own shit.”

Raph looked away, feeling tears coming.

“I was never gonna tell mom. I was… I was literally never ever gonna tell her that…”

Leo scooted closer and leaned his head down to be at eye level with him.

“I get that. We all kinda knew that. I’m sorry Donnie did that to you.”

Raph closed his eyes.

“You can hug me if you want to…”

He felt Leo pull him in to a loose hug from his side, letting him lean his body against his.

“I… I know what Donnie did is fucked but… but I also mean that I was never going to be ABLE to tell mom that…”

Leo hummed and rubbed his shoulder.

“You’re half grateful. Half angry.”

He laughed a little. “Yeah… I know it’s.. it’s my fault for saying it was ok for her to join us but… but god Leo I feel so bad all the time, she seems lonely and sad and I just.. I can’t look at her and think about what she thinks of me…”

“I mean—“

“And don’t just tell me not to worry about what she thinks.”

There was a pause.

“That’s all you were gonna say.” Raph grumbled and pat Leo’s arm. “I hate that nobody ever gets along, and I hate that I’m stuck in the middle of it…”

“Sounds exhausting.”

“It is! I’m tired and I just want people to fucking… I don’t know.. I’m trying to be okay…”

Leo tugged him closer. “You don’t have to be okay, no one expects you to be okay.”

He sighed and pat Leo’s arm. “I wanna go back in there…”

Leo gently let go of him and stood up, holding his hand out to help him up. He then pointed at the sink.

“Maybe one last rinse and spit.”

Raph sighed and leaned over to gargle tap water for a moment before turning and staring up at Leo who gave him a thumbs up.

Leo let him lead the way out of the room.

He was still hearing arguing as he walked towards the kitchen.

“—have any idea how hard this was?!”

“Yes! Because you never shut up about it!”

“Oh that’s kind of you to say!”

“Does it EVER cross your mind how hard WE had it as BABIES?!”

He hovered in the doorway for a moment.

He saw his mother standing on a stool to shout at eye level, Donnie just glaring daggers still in the same spot.

Mikey had his arms folded, the expression on his face looked far older and exhausted than it should have on his sweet face.

“Of course I do! That’s why I needed to get you out of there!”

Raph walked in the kitchen and they all stared at him.

Mikey’s expression softened instantly, he looked worried.

Raph parsed the last thing his mother had said and he turned to look at her, feeling angry for some reason.

“But… you didn’t get us out… I got us out.” He said quietly.

He sensed Leo standing behind him leaning against the door frame.

His mother made a face.

“That’s not fair.” She said as she climbed down of the stool to sit normally. “I found us all a way out, I got us a home.”

“Six years later.” He almost whispered. He wasn’t sure where this was coming from.

Mikey and Donnie were staring at him in awe. Splinter looked offended.

“You know where I—“

“I know where you were. I know why you were gone.” He clenched his fists and took a breath, standing up straight. “I don’t blame you for leaving. Or being gone. I’m sorry. But…” he looked at Mikey, his sweet eyes growing larger. He eyed Donnie, whose guilty look was turning warmer. He looked back at his mother. “But when you were gone bad things happened to us, and no one came to save us.”

Her eyes were watering. It made his water too, so he turned his head to look away.

He sensed Leo step in beside him and felt him grab his hand gently.

Raph looked up at him, he was giving him a gentle smile and nodded at him to continue.

Leo had him.

He looked back at his mom’s tearful eyes.

“I-I know that! And I feel terrible about it every day!”

He gave her a dark glare.

“Did you know dad raped me?”

Her eyes went wide and she didn’t say anything.

He frowned.

“You either didn’t think about how bad we had it, or you knew and didn’t do anything about it. I don’t know which makes me more miserable to think about.”

“Raphael—“

“Stop!” He shouted. She tensed up and he felt guilty instantly, none of them liked a booming voice.

He rubbed his temple with his free hand.

“Stop. We know the therapist was April’s idea. And we know you didn’t let her get one for us before. I understand….” He sighed, “I understand that we were in hiding. That you were scared for us, scared we’d get caught, shipped back there and have the worst thing happen, but… but we could have gotten help years ago! I could have gotten help! I-I shut down mom! I forgot all about it! And you might think that’s good! That makes it all okay cuz I shut it all out but it came back to haunt me!

Tears were falling down his cheeks, he felt so angry and so miserable and so so justified.

“You said… you told me. When you found me you told me you had been watching us! Trying to watch over us right? What… what did you see dad do that finally pushed you over the edge and made you admit you were there?”

She looked so pained, so guilty. He didn’t want to break his stare no matter how much it hurt. He didn’t want to give her a way out.

“Your… the things he wanted to do to you… to your brothers because of you…”

“BECAUSE of me?!” He snatched his hand away from Leo’s to clench both of his fists.

Her tears were free roaming, she balled her fists on the counter.

“Because of how you were born! H-he got opportunity as soon as he found that out! He was going to use them on you! Because of how you were born!”

Raph shook his head dumbfounded, staring at the ground.

“Because of how I was born…” he repeated. “So it’s.. so it’s my fault guys! Because I was born like this!”

“Raphael that’s not what I meant!”

He snapped his head up to glare at her. “Isn’t it?! You just said what caused you to finally warn me was learning about that! How did you even learn that!”

She stared at him for a long while. Crying silently as she tried to find her words.

His muscles were trembling from how tightly wound he felt.

“I… saw you get examined in the lab… I was in the vent, y-you were on the table with your little legs…” she sobbed. “I-I saw what he did… i s-saw you lie there l-like you were asleep…”

Raph felt an icy chill run through his body.

He stood back, staring at her in shock and shaking his head a little.

“You… you saw him do it…”

It wasn’t a question.

Her face answered it anyway. Anguished, guilty, miserable. Sobbing away at the table.

He couldn’t move and she didn’t say anything.

“Mom…” Leo softly whispered beside him.

Donnie kicked his stool over with violent force and marched out of the room.

Mikey was staring at Raph with big wet eyes.

Raph was frozen.

“How… how could you..?” Leo asked her.

She hid her face in her hands, sobbing loudly.

“Y-you couldn’t go back! H-help would have brought attention! You couldn’t go back!” She wailed. “A-and you blocked it all out! What was I supposed to do!!!”

“SOMETHING!!!” Mikey screamed suddenly.

They all turned to look at him. He looked more furious than anyone had ever seen him, pure rage in his eyes, sitting up on the counter with his body hunched over.

He shook his head in utter disbelief and got down off the stool, marching over to Raph and taking his hand.

“We should leave.” He said seriously and tugged on it.

Raph didn’t want to move.

“H-he tried to do the deed himself Raphael! H-he tried to use himself as the donor first! H-how could I tell you that!” She slammed her fists down.

Leo’s hands were on Raph’s shoulders now.

“You… saw dad rape me…”

She kept sobbing.

“I-I couldn’t d-do anything to s-stop him!!”

He shook his head slowly and turned his body to face Leo behind him.

“I… I don’t want to talk to you…” he said softly.

Leo stepped around him to hold him from behind and Mikey tugged him once more.

This time he followed.

And just left her crying alone.

They both walked him into the bedroom and sat him down on their pile of beds, Donnie was already here curled up in the corner crying by himself.

Raph just sat very still, his feet still on the ground. He stared into space as someone put a blanket over him, someone else shut the door.

He couldn’t even cry, he felt emotionally comatose and just stared blankly into the wall.

He felt his brothers grab his hands and squeeze them.

“Raph…?” He thinks it was Leo, he couldn’t see.

A soft chirp came from his other side.

He blinked but didn’t look over.

“I… Don’t wake me up…” he mumbled. “I don’t want to feel this…”

They both went quiet, he sensed movement behind him, and then felt all three brothers hugging him on all sides.

He just kept staring at the wall.

“She watched him rape me…” he said quietly again.

The grips got tighter. Someone was sobbing. It could have been all of them. They just held on to him, and it was the only thing he was going to let himself feel.

“If mom watched him rape me, then that means she let him rape me…”

He kept staring. The grooves between the bricks started to glow from how little he’d moved his eyes.

“And if she let him do that, and then… then all these years she should have known what was wrong with me, right..?”

“Raphie…”

He closed his eyes.

He took a deep breath.

And then he just screamed as loud and long as he could. Until his lungs were fully empty and then some.

Then he finally let himself break down.

#HHHHHHHHHH UR MOM AINT SHIT RAPH IM SORRY........#SHE DID WHAT SHE THOUGHT WAS RIGHT AND YOUUUUUUUU SUFFERED FOR IT #sorry if its vague or sorry if im not vague at all and too obvious ITS. A LOT. and i cant parse my own ability to write hints and clues #like ive written exactly what they went through but it is too vomit inducing to make anybody read #hence the whole. this came from the worst case scenario thing #shredded descent #FEEL FREE TO TELL ME IF YOU THREW UP IN THE REPLIES!!!! ima kms now #writing

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sensei-venus · 1 year

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Serpent-Cide (1/?)

(Unedited) (Reader secretly hates everyone, she just wants to go home. Number one #fuckthenorthsiders fan Reader. Reader is just a loner who tolerates everyone’s bs.)

(Part One|Part Two|Part Three|TBA|)

Reader didn’t want to think about school. She didn’t want to think about having to walk the halls along side the stuck up students. The cheerleader, jocks hell even the geeks of the school where assholes. It was like the north side was a target for producing shitty ass people.

Just about everyone in the whole town could be labeled a horrible person.

It was like they where breed here, raised here, meant to start a life long relationship with hurting others. Both physically and mentally, hell even emotionally.

Half of the kids at that school where skilled at emotional manipulation.

“Reader you will be assigned to the welcoming committee. You don’t have any community hours for this semester so this should give you quite a few. Make sure you meet in the hallway tomorrow morning, 8:00 sharp. The new transfer students from SouthSide High should be arriving by then.” One of the volunteer heads said. Reader slumped in her seat a little and rolled her eyes. Great, now she had to deal with not only the stuck up northsider kids but now the southsiders.

Moments later the bell rang for first period and everyone in the community room slowly started to leave. She waited a moment until just about everyone was gone. Slowly grabbing her bag from off the floor she made her way to class. The hallway was crowded as she maneuvered around the crowds of students. Flooded with kids, pushing and shoving each other.

The sound of something hitting lockers, hard, filled the hallway and made her look around. She pushed past the people around her. Hoping to just get to class. She didn’t need to get into anyone business, know anything she really didn’t need to. It would just be a reason for her to keep thinking about the people who lived, breath and love this shitty ass school. All she wanted to do was get to class.

Sadly her luck wasn’t on her side this time, it never seemed to be.

Her eyes caught the one and only Reggie Mantle as he shoved some poor kid face first into a locker. Their eyes only met for a moment before him and his friends went back to what they where doing. Messing with some bottom feeder kid who probably just looked at him wrong. The urge to just go the other way she came started to bubble into her gut. So that is what she did, turned right back around and went with the flow of the opposite direction of traffic. It would take twice the time to get to her class but she didn’t have to worry about bumping into that jerk. She huffed as she was shoved deeper into the crowed.

Why did this school always have to pull the worst shit over on her.

The next morning didn’t go as planned at all. The bus she usually took to go to school broke down and she had to walk. Instead of waiting around to get a ride she decided to just walk it. She ended up having to jog just to make it on time. All she needed was some stupid mark on her record for “trying to skip a volunteer credit” or something from the leadership board.

Huffing she enters though the front of the school where she was meet with a few different faces. Most of which made her even more exhausted then she already was.

Archie, Veronica, Betty and even Cheryl stud around the almost completely empty front hallway. It was almost as if half of the student body didn’t want to be around the southside kids. She kinda understood where they where coming from, then again she didn’t really care. Stereotyping a whole group of people they had never even meet before wasn’t really something she had hopes of doing. The southside was bad, shady and drug filled. But as long as these kids didn’t mess with her like the kids at this school, she would be ok with them.

Hopefully they would just cut her some slack and leave her alone for the rest of the year.

Or, her worst nightmare, they picked up on half of the schools ideals for bullying people, no matter who they where or what they did.

“Hey Reader you made it! I was scared you would have skipped the introduction.” Betty said in a whisper as they walked to a more casual spot in the hall. Reader just sighed, looking at the closed front doors of the school. She had to admit that her nerves where a little on edge. Being around people for her was hard, even people she knew. Betty was a okay person, a little preppy and a bit of a good girl but she was nice enough In Reader’s opinion.

She wouldn’t say they where friends per say but rather good acquaintances. They worked on a few projects together, sat with each other at lunch a few times, borrowed books from each other when they checked them out of the library. Nothing huge to make them good friends but decent enough that Reader didn’t see her as a issue to deal with.

“Stupid bus broke down and they wanted me to wait for a whole hour for another one to show up. All I need is that community leader to try and say I was trying to skip. It’s always something with this school…” she trailed off. Lazily she checked her phone, Betty only nodded saying “I get it…this school definitely sucks some times.” Reader snorted, sarcasm laced her voice “Puff that’s the fucking understatement of the century…” she pushed her phone back into her pocket. Betty only gave a small half smile before walking off to go see Archie.

For a good few minutes she just watched them. The two teens where talking about something and then Veronica joined them. She raised a brow as she glanced over at Cheryl who looked to be glaring at the other teens. It was funny to see the “Queen of the school” not be invited to their little party. Even if that party was three other people talking without her. Stuck up bitch. A smirk passed her lips for just a split moment.

Suddenly the door of the school entrance opened with a huge bang.

Some kids that were still in the hallway scattered at the mere sound, some from the sight of who walked through those big doors. The braver students stayed in their place, a hand full, mostly the jocks. They slowly started to creep up from the back of the hallways. Slowly inching closer and closer. Inching in towards new pray, or more like an even foe.

The southsiders were making their way into the northsiders territory and threatening their sickly little teen livelihoods. The big dogs were about to get pounced on by a whole bunch of serpents.

A whole herd of students walked through the doors, stomping up to the small group of teens. Reader was reluctant to join them, not because she was afraid of them or like most of the other kids still sticking around wanting to harass them. She just didn’t want to act like she was alongside any of these people.

She was quick to notice that one of the leaders was actually Jughead, which was a little shocking but not by much. Jughead was just as much of an outcast really as she was, maybe a little more popular seeing as he was Archie’s best friend.

The look on his face was insanely similar, mostly because it mirrored hers. The look of both boredom and disgust crossed his face quickly. As soon as he stepped close to Cheryl it seemed to double by ten folds. Out of nowhere, Reggie made his appearance from one of the hallways, a few cheerleaders and half of the team of jocks followed close by. He stepped up and stood behind Cheryl who only smirked at Jughead.

“Listen how about you and your little “serpents” go find another school to destroy. We don’t need your low IQ’s muddying up our school. We can only expect our test scores to start dropping dramatically in the next few weeks because of you and your little trailer trash bunch.” Reggie bowed up “Yeah and your little junkie friends. Bet we will start finding needs all over the hallways and burnt spoon in the trash cans.” Some of the jocks and cheerleaders laughed. Cheryl only smirked, her cherry-red lips only seemed to grow at the words.

Two of the kids behind JugHead almost growled at them, bowing up but then being held back by Jughead.

One was a girl, slight brown skin with long dyed pinkish purple hair with a serpent jacket on. It also my swamped her shoulders in the thick leather material. Her face was twisted up in a nasty scowl as Jug held her back.

The other person was a tall boy with black hair and a good-sized snake tattoo on his neck. Reader couldn’t help but look him over in curiosity. The tattoo stuck out to her as she scanned him over, the bob of his throat, the glimmer in his eye of pure hate. It was…interesting. She was glad that she stood off to the side. Maybe no one would notice her gawking at the bean stock of a boy- slash that, man.

Reader almost jumped a little when the boy broke free of Jugs arm. He marched up to Cheryl and Reggie and basically growled right in their face. Jughead was quick to grab him by the back of the jacket along with the help of the girl. Both of them use a good amount of strength to pull him back. It wasn’t easy as he fought back against their attempts to reel him back in. His height and weight alone kept him from even flinching at their pulls.

Lucky he seemed to calm only by a little and stepped back. He bared his teeth at them, almost in mocking and anger.

This did nothing to phase Cheryl and only made Reggie more riled up. One of his eyes twitched and a vain popped from under his collar. He stares all of the southside kids down, trying his best to some how intimidate them. Believing that somehow it was going to do something to them.

It failed miserably as the other southside kids held their ground.

“Love how I’m gone only a little while and I come back to this, the same loving treatment as before. Great job keeping your mutts in line Cheryl.” Jughead mocked with crossed arms. His gaze shifted from her to Archie for a moment. A look of displeasure corsages his face. Maybe even a hint of sadness threatened to form. But it was quickly gone within moments of appearing. Archie gave a small smile back hoping to show his feelings on the situation. Jughead seemed to take it with a grain of salt.

“Can we just stop fighting for once. We have to share our school and it’s only fair that we at least try and be civilized.” Veronica said getting between the two groups. She put both hands out to stop the two groups from getting any closer to each other. There was a small table a few steps over, she walked over to it and grabbed a few papers.

Looking them over before holding them up, she looked back toward the serpents. She cleared her throat saying “Over here you will find your class schedules, locker assignments, and a map of the school. We will also be assigning small groups of new students with some of our volunteer students. They will help you with any questions you may have about the school, show you around, and also help you figure out any resources you may need.”

There was some mumbling among the group.

Betty and Archie walked over to the table and grabbed some of the papers. Betty read over a few things on one of the pages. The other girl shoved a new paper into her hand making her roll her eyes. She looked it over and raised a brow.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yep, it’s right there. Start grouping up after they all get their schedules.”

Suddenly Veronica’s gaze shifted over to Reader. She cocked her head to the side and just stared at her. Reader felt herself clam up a little.

This was definitely not going to be a day to go down into the good history of the school.

It was going to be a literal blood stain by the looks of it.

(Will be continued, will be cross-posting to AO3!)

#riverdale #riverdale imagines #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale sweet pea #sweet pea #sweet pea x chubby reader #sweet pea x reader #riverdale x chubby reader #riverdale x reader #chubby reader #loner!reader #fanfiction

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featherandferns · 1 year

Text

hurricanes (fic)

jj maybank x fem!reader | angst central

content warning: mentions of drinking and drug use; mentions of sex; arguments and fights; unhealthy relationship

word count: 7k.

blurb: for so many of your memories, bad and good, it feels as if hurricanes are at the forefront. One night, during the midst of a storm, JJ comes to your house, seemingly to bring you one last memory of him.

You hate hurricanes.

They’re unruly and unpredictable; thrashing and destroying anything in their path. Chaos incarnated.

From inside your house, the windows rattle from a vicious blow of wind. Sighing, you leave the comfort of your bedroom to go to the kitchen. There’s no chance you’re getting to sleep anyway. Better brew a pot of coffee and maybe get some homework done throughout the night. As you stand over the machine, waiting for it to brew, you look out the window. It’s dark. Rain is splattered across the glass, droplets chasing after one another in an undisclosed race. You manage to make out your reflection. Bags under your eyes. Clothes hanging sadly on your body. Only recently had you managed to start eating well again, putting on weight and getting through more than one meal a day. So, knowing the effort that you’ve been making, you manage a smile.

The t-shirt you’re wearing is one of your favourites. It holds memories: the fit of laugher that had you in tears one night at a bonfire; the day you got your first A on an exam; a date with JJ. Your finger comes to tease at the collar, fingering the fabric, your smile growing from the memories. It felt nice to finally reminisce about your ex-boyfriend without wanting to crumble. Without the thought feeling like someone was twisting the knife that had yet to be eased out of your chest.

The coffee machine stops buzzing. You look down, coming back to yourself, and pour yourself a cup of coffee from the glass mug. Moving to sit on the sitting room sofa, reaching for the remote, you decide to try and distract yourself with a show. Your parents aren’t home and brother’s at college, granting an empty, quiet house. As you flick through the options on Netflix, you hesitate on one. Narcos. JJ loved that series. Had you watch some of the episodes with him – explaining the characters’ motives and filling in the plot-points from whatever you’d missed. A part of you deliberates watching it and letting yourself slip into some fantasy that JJ is sat by your side on the sofa, his hand comfortably on your knee, eyes glued to the screen. But you don’t. There’re new shows to watch, so why go back on the old? Settling on some Netflix-own drama, you sigh and have a sip of your coffee.

“No way, John B actually thinks he’s found the Royal Merchant,” you snort.

JJ shrugs. “That’s what he says.”

“Where?”

“At the bottom of the ocean,” JJ replies.

“No doy, idiot. I mean where abouts at the bottom of the ocean?” You chuckle, rolling your eyes.

“Oh! Somewhere off the continental drift,” JJ tells you.

He’s opened a bottle of beer for you and is passing it over. The two of you are lounging on your dad’s fishing boat, taking advantage of the nice weather.

“Bullshit,” you say, taking a swig.

“I’m telling you; he’s found it. The stuff in that motel room safe was fucking insane. The cops just pocketing the cash, too?”

“Cops are dirty: shock horror,” you sarcastically return.

JJ laughs with a nod. Then, smiling at you, he says, "well, all I know is when we find the Merchant-”

“-If-”

“When!” he corrects loudly, making you laugh. Then he’s shuffling up so he’s sat right next to you, hooking an arm comfortably around your waist. “When we find it, I’m using my share of gold to spoil my girl rotten.”

“Oh?” You prompt, raising a brow at him with a grin. He nods down at you.

“Mhm. I’m talking fancy dinners and expensive jewellery and that perfume you always check out whenever we’re at the mall but never buy.”

“It’s overpriced,” you brush off, rolling your eyes.

“It’d smell perfect on you,” JJ affirms. Makes your cheeks go warm.

Nudging him with your elbow, the bone digging softly into the flesh of his abs, you say, “well, I guess I could get on board with that then.”

“Just you wait until we find it,” JJ promises, raising his bottle in a silent toast.

Rolling your eyes lovingly at his ways, you lift yours to clink the neck of your bottle against his. JJ leans down to capture your lips in a kiss, sweet and summer-filled, with the lingering taste of beer. You gladly kiss him back, sinking into the familiar feel of your boyfriend. This is going to be the best summer yet.

About ten minutes into the second episode, you think you hear a knock at the door. No; it’ll be a branch having blown away in the breeze. Sighing, you go back to the show, coffee nearly finished and luke-warm. Then, it comes again. Two short raps. Pausing the show, you turn and frown at the door. You can see it from the sofa. There’s a pause, maybe a minute, and then three knocks. You get up and make your way to the door, deliberating who in the hell could be coming to your house in the middle of a hurricane at (you glance to the clock on the hallway as you go) ten to midnight?

As you undo the latch on the door and twist the key to unlock it, you feel your gut twist. It’s as if it knows something you don’t. Then, pulling the door open, wincing against the cold and the wind and the rain from outside as it fights its way in, you come face to face with JJ. The sight of him makes you colder than the weather ever could.

“JJ?”

“Can I come in?”

“Wh—”

Your voice trials off, throat running dry, and you glance back into the house for some reason, as if the coat-stand might have the answers. Looking back to him, brain muddled, you see how he’s leaning against the wall of the entryway. How he’s holding his flask in his hand, the lid unscrewed, and you close your eyes with a sigh.

The rational part of you screams to close the door on him. Do the right thing, the hard thing, and turn him away as if you have barely acknowledged him being there. But it’s not that simple. Nothing is, the moment any sort of feeling has been involved, and you find yourself looking into his red-rimmed eyes. You’re not sure if he’s high or he’s been crying.

“Please,” he says, voice quiet as if defeated. “I just wanna talk.”

He’s dripping from head to toe, drenched from the rain. Hair sticking to his forehead, leaking water down the back of his neck. Hands shaking from the cold and the booze. Wordlessly, you open the door fully and step to the side, making space for him to walk in. After he catches on and enters, you catch a whiff of his cologne. Musky yet fresh; so wonderfully him. It makes one of the scabbed cuts on your heart crack open. Closing the door, fighting to keep in the warmth, you sigh and face JJ. He’s standing there awkwardly, unsure of where you want him to go. He’s barely able to keep his balance right, fumbling from leaning his weight on one leg to the other.

You gesture to the kitchen. “Go sit down. I’m gonna grab you a towel.”

JJ nods and does as you say, heading into the kitchen. You try not to spiral in your thoughts as you go to the boiler closet, fishing out a fresh bath towel. There’s only one thought that you can’t seem to silence. What is he doing here?

A part of you still feels as though you can hear the wind of the storm beating against the thin walls of the police tent. The sirens and the chatter and the panic. The chaos of trying to help John B and Sarah escape, and the never-ending torture of waiting for any news. That they escaped. That they were caught. That they were even alive.

That was a week ago now.

JJ’s not answering his phone. You haven’t been sleeping well. Your nights are nothing but restless, nightmares plaguing you about all the ‘what ifs’ and the guilt of waving them off in the boat, practically sending them off to their grave. It’s a lot for a seventeen-year-old to burden. Your parents tried their best to help you. They brought you breakfast the first morning that you stayed back at your house (they’d let you crash at the Chateau with the others for a couple of days at first, understanding that all your friends needed one another at that time), and never forced you to come down for dinner. Wallowing felt about the best you could do. You just wished it wasn’t so lonely.

Sighing, ending the call that never stopped ringing, you glance over to your trainers. Since coming back from the Chateau, you haven’t left your house once. Hell, you’d barely left your bed. Then you’re staring at your phone again. At the string of missed calls and ignored texts from JJ. You knew him well and knew how easily he could slip when things changed for the worse. John B was like a brother to JJ. Their bond was so close that it sometimes challenged your own and JJ’s, though never in a malicious way.

Getting up, you put on your trainers and lace them up. You had to check that JJ’s okay.

The air feels fresh on your skin, like a plant gulping down water after days in a drought. You bask in the rays of sun that push through the cloudy overhead. Walking to JJ’s was familiar and quick. Soon enough, you’re trudging up his front lawn and walking around to his window. He’d always told you to come in via there. You never knew where his dad was and what state he might be in, but the odds were low on his being passed out in JJ’s room. The windows always unlocked and you force it up and open with a grunt. Then, you’re climbing on JJ’s desk and glancing around his room. He’s not in there.

What is in there is countless empty beer cans and bottles. The useless ends of joints and cigarettes. It smells musty and sad, like nobody had cracked a window in days. You sigh and kick some stuff out of the way (used clothing and trash) so you can reach his bedroom door. Gently easing it open, you glance into the hallway and through to the sitting room. On the coffee table, you can make out the toes of JJ’s boots. Taking your chances that his dad isn’t home, you walk down the hall to the sitting room.

JJ’s passed out on the sofa. His head is leant back, mouth parted in silent snores, and in his hand is an empty beer bottle. The sitting room is just as bad as his bedroom, maybe even worse. It stinks of weed and alcohol and mould. Everything about all of it terrifies you. You didn’t think he’d sunk this low, so fast. Why hadn’t he reached out to you?

He gets an email and his phone pings, making you glance to it. It’s on the coffee table. There on the home screen are the several missed call notifications and ignored texts from you. If it were any other situation, you’d label yourself as psycho. But you knew something was wrong. Could feel it in your gut.

“JJ,” you say. Clearing your throat, louder, you repeat, “JJ.”

He doesn’t stir.

You reach out a hand to shake his boot.

“JJ, wake up.”

Nothing.

Sighing, you walk around so you’re stood at his side and lean down to shake his shoulders gently, hoping to ease him awake.

“Wake up, JJ.”

He jolts awake with a gasp, eyes flying open. His hands come to your forearms in a tight grip, reflexively, and you try to pull away. The moment he registers it’s you, he let’s go. He mumbles your name, voice still thick with sleep.

“What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to check on you.”

JJ frowns. He rubs at his face and pushes some of his uncombed hair back. His breath smells like stale liquor; it half makes you want to cringe.

“Why?”

“Because I’m worried about you. And, I guess I was right,” you say, looking to the pandemonium of the room.

JJ gets to his feet and shakes his head. He’s walking towards the kitchen and you follow.

“You didn’t need to, alright? I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, JJ,” you tell him.

He pulls open the fridge. His back is to you. The shirt he wears looks creased and well-worn, as if he hadn’t taken it off for days. It reminds you of everything that happened and just how raw the wounds must be for JJ. How much deeper they are, too.

“Look, I know this is hard for you,” you tell him gently.

JJ grabs a beer and closes the fridge. Cracking open the can, he turns and rests his back against it, taking a swig. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not ‘fine’, JJ,” you say.

JJ shrugs and has another gulp.

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” you ask. Gesturing to him, you add, “you look like you haven’t slept in days, JJ.”

“What’re you gonna do? Sing me to sleep?” he snorts. He’s drunk.

“That’s not the point, JayJ. My parents would’ve let you stay over. I don’t like the thought of you here by yourself.”

“I’m not something that needs fixing, alright? I can take care of myself,” JJ tells you, his voice becoming tighter.

“I’m not saying you need fixing—”

“Are you sure? Cause it sounds like you’re pitying me pretty bad right now,” JJ cuts in. His eyes are narrowed at you as if accusing you of some conspiracy.

Trying to remind yourself of the abundance of emotions he must be feeling right now, alongside the fact that he’s drunk and possibly high, you do your best to keep your calm.

“Of course I’m pitying you, JJ. In the way that a girlfriend would pity her boyfriend who’s dealing with some fucking awful loss,” you tell him.

“He’s not dead, alright? Don’t talk about him like he is,” JJ bitterly mumbles, looking down at his boots.

“We don’t know that, JJ—”

“Well, you don’t know that he is dead, alright? So stop talking about it like you want it to be true!” he explodes. He stalks towards you, angry. “Do you want him to be dead, huh? So you have a little project to work on? So you can come visit your scum of a boyfriend and do your charity work, to make yourself feel better. To distract you from your own shitty insecurities?”

“Why are you saying this, JJ?” you whisper, taken aback. He’s never spoken to you like this. Ever. Not even when the two of you argue. In truth, you don’t argue. Merely bicker, with it all resolved within the day. Nothing malicious and intentional, with words sharpened to cut. The way he’s looking at you right now – as he stands over you, shoulders rigid as if preparing for a scrap – is terrifyingly unfamiliar.

“I don’t want you here, okay? I didn’t ask for you to come here.”

“You want me to leave then?”

“Yeah, I do, actually.”

“You do?”

“Yes. That’s what I fucking said,” JJ seethes. You find yourself pushing back, getting in his face just as much.

“Fine. Drink yourself fucking blind for all I care,” you spit back.

It’s only been a week, and already a chip has been chiselled into the sculpture that was your relationship. The first crack in the mausoleum.

JJ’s sat at the round kitchen table, shivering like an orphan, and you have to keep yourself from instinctively wrapping the towel around his shoulders. Instead, you place it in front of him. He’s put the flask away, it seems.

“Thanks,” JJ mumbles, taking it.

As he rubs his hair dry, you head to the coffee machine. He needs to sober up and you’d found that coffee always worked for him. Hell, you could do with another cup too, perhaps just to keep your hands busy.

“It’s crazy out there,” JJ eventually says, hesitant to start a conversation. You close your eyes at the sound of his voice. “Brian’s throwing a tantrum.”

You’re half-tuned in, mostly lost in the droning of the coffee machine as it brews. You look down at your hands to find that you’ve been messing with the skin around your nails. It was a nervous habit you had, and one that hadn’t shone through in a couple of months. Not since you and JJ had ended things.

The coffee is done all too soon. Pouring two mugs worth, you brace yourself as if preparing for a slap as you turn to face JJ at the table. His hair is now damp, no longer dripping down his face. Wet clothes are still stuck to his skin, outlining the perfection of his body, and you have to force your eyes away. It’s hard to think that only two months ago you would be blessed enough to be able to run your hands under his shirt, along the smooth, salt-scrubbed skin of his stomach. What once brought you pleasure in thought now only brought pain.

Taking the seat opposite him, you slide his mug over and take a shaking sip of your own. Your eyes are down, focused on the table-top, tracing the scratch marks in the wood, but you somehow know JJ’s watching you. Can feel his eyes following you.

“Thanks for letting me in.”

“You said you wanted to talk,” you reply.

JJ nods: you catch it in your peripheral. “I do.”

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Us,” JJ says. You close your eyes. You were worried he’d say that.

“There’s nothing for us to talk about, JJ. There isn’t an ‘us’, anymore, okay?” you sigh. JJ’s already shaking his head.

“There is. You know there is,” he returns in a pleading tone. “Things can go back to how they were again.”

“What?” you almost whisper, brows furrowing in confusion.

“John B and Sarah are back now and…And everything can go back to how it was,” JJ tells you, almost hopeful.

You shake your head, lips pressed in a deep frown. Your fingers press against the hot porcelain of the mug.

“JJ. That’s not how this works.”

“I know things got messed up. That it’s my fault that they did, alright? That everything got messed up after John B…”

Died.

Your eyes dart up to meet his. There’re fresh tears gathering in the waterline. It’s weird seeing JJ cry so openly. He only did it once or twice in your relationship, in front of you. He never seemed willing to let you see that side of him, as if it might make him weak. You notice how his hand twitches away from the mug, as if he might reach out for yours, but something in him decides not to. Instead, the two of you keep your distance; a formal width of space, sat on either side of the table, not daring to cross into the others’.

“We can go back to how we were,” JJ privately says.

Your purse your lips, eyes slipping shut a moment to gather your thoughts. Perhaps this is how Eve felt, when the serpent tried to tempt her with the fruit. Here sits the only guy you’ve ever loved, extending an invitation back into the past, of a time when you were happy, and breathing didn’t hurt, and the thought of romance wasn’t something you shunned. But you can’t go back to the past. Time is forever moving forward, continuous and unchanging, and the sooner you make peace with that, the sooner it can start to heal your wounds.

You never spoke about that first fight. Never acknowledged it, really. JJ just showed up at your house, a couple days later, seemingly sober, and you both decided to move forward. You brushed it under the rug as a slip-up. That he needed to reel out of control a little in order to let himself recover, like the way the earth needs a good thunderstorm during summer to replenish the plants. I mean, how were you to know that it was the beginning of the end?

It was the day after you'd made the memorial at the chateau. Yourself and JJ had slept over at the house, after making love on the pull-out. The moment his hands were on your body, it felt like a silent apology for the fight, and you'd let yourself forget all about it. Waking up tangled in his hold, legs a knotted mess and arm tingling with pins-and-needles from his weight, you can't help but smile. It was the nearest thing to normalcy you'd felt in a long time, since Sarah and John B went missing at sea.

"Morning," you mumble sleepily the moment you feel JJ stir. He presses a kiss to your forehead. His skin smells of dry sweat.

"Hey," JJ rasps.

"You want breakfast?"

"What's on the menu?"

You can hear the smirk in his voice, the teasing grin to his words, and it makes you chuckle tiredly. This was the JJ you missed. As one of his hands moves to grope at your ass, you're laughing, gently pushing him off you.

"Perv," you mutter as you get up. Steal his t-shirt from the floor and pull it on.

You trudge to the kitchen, shoving your messed up hair out of your face, and open the cupboards to search for something good. There's no point looking in the fridge; majority of the things in there will be spoiled. This is the first time any of you have been back at the chateau since a couple of days after the incident.

Grabbing a can of soup, you decide it's better than nothing (though far from a classic breakfast). The drawers and counters are a mess. You sigh as you search for a can opener, coming up empty.

"You got your pocket knife with you?" you ask JJ.

He's lounging on the pull-out, scrolling through his phone. The only thing keeping him decent is the blanket that's half-arsedly flung over his waist. You missed seeing him like this, and the sight has you smiling.

"Should be in the left pocket of my shorts," he mumbles in reply, absentmindedly.

You wander over and drop to a squat, digging through his cargo shorts. Nothing, nothing...Your fingers feel something plastic and tactile. Frowning, you pull it out. It's a small plastic baggy containing a white powder. You're not stupid. It's either coke or ketamine. Your frown seems to deepen. Standing up, you hold it up.

"What's this?"

JJ looks up. Spots the bag. Takes in your expression. "Nothing."

"JJ," you say, tone nothing short of serious.

He sighs and rubs at his face, as if finding an excuse to avoid eye contact. "Look, it's fine, alright? I just need a little pick me up, now and then."

"This isn't a pick-me-up, JJ," you say. You know you sound angry, but why shouldn't you be? JJ having an addictive personality was no secret to anyone. His drinking was bad enough. Adding drugs like cocaine to the mix, and your worry trebled.

“What? Are you telling me what I can and can’t do now?” JJ asks. His voice borders on a scoff.

“This is dangerous, JJ.”

“I’m scared straight, hun. Thanks,” he mutters. Leaning forward, he snatches the baggy from you.

“I don’t like the thought of you taking that stuff, JayJ. It’s a slippery slope,” you slowly reply, trying to level your temper.

JJ sighs impatiently, rolling his eyes. It doesn’t help calm the storm brewing inside of you.

“Why’d you always have to ruin everything, huh?”

“Excuse me?”

“Things were finally starting to go back to normal and you have to fucking fixate on another thing. I swear to God, I never do anything right by you. I mean, I’d just gotten over you losing your shit at me the other day—”

“Gotten over it? I’m sorry, let me just check I’m hearing this right?” you interrupt, shifting your weight. “You got over the fact that your girlfriend had to track you down in person to check you were okay, to find you drunk and passed out? Then you yell at me for coming and tell me to leave, several times. And you remember me being the villain in all of that?”

“Don’t flatter yourself. You didn’t do some fucking FBI work to find me; I was in my own Goddamn house.”

“Not the point, JJ,” you loudly counter.

JJ rolls his eyes at you and moves to stand, pulling on a pair of boxers. “You’re such a bitch sometimes, you know that?”

You stare at him. Did you just hear him right? Before you can ask or even respond, JJ’s walking out onto the porch as if you’re not in the midst of an argument.

You watch as he grabs a leftover vape that’s laying on the window ledge. There still seems to be some power left in it. He takes a couple of hits. You simply stare after him. It seems useless to follow. Useless to keep chipping away at this fight that you’re bound to lose. So, instead, you turn back to the kitchen and let the distance between the two of you gape. Another argument unresolved.

Opening your eyes again, meeting his that shimmer blue in the low light of your kitchen, you can’t bring yourself to do anything but frown, your expression the image of sympathy. 'We can go back to how we were.'

“We can’t, JJ,” you whisper.

“Who says we can’t?”

“I say we can’t,” you reply.

“You don’t understand,” JJ tells you, as if ignoring your words entirely. You’re shaking your head, staring down into your coffee, but it doesn’t seem to deter him from continuing. “I can’t picture my life without you in it. These past couple months have felt like there’s a lack there or something. Like something’s missing. And something is missing. You are. You’ve always been there for me, even before we were together. I don’t…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on with my life without you in it.”

You’re crying now. Silent tears fall down your face. Muffled pain.

The touch of his hand on yours feels electric, but not in a good way. Not in the way it used to. It’s like the shock that it thrills inside of you, which once was excitement, is now merely pain. You half want to jolt your hand back, but that would be too dramatic. Too much.

“Please. Please,” JJ’s begging, crying too. “I just need you in my life.”

“I don’t understand how,” you tell him, voice wet. You meet his gaze again. It feels almost too painful to maintain it for too long. “I can’t be your friend again, JJ. And I definitely can’t be your girlfriend again. So how am I meant to be in your life?”

“You just can! You just have to be there! You have to be there for me!”

Your lip quivers.

He gathers himself, exhaling slowly. “You just…Have to.”

Have to. Like there wasn’t any other way. Like his planet doesn’t spin without you and his universe is empty of planets and stars. Like his world is void of life and you’re the water that can make his plants bloom again. But it doesn’t bring you joy like it would’ve months ago, to hear him say that. It’s too much, too late. Antique coins lose their value.

“I mean…Don’t you miss me?”

Your vision focuses on his tear-streaked face again. Hair still damp. Cheeks pink and nose red.

“Of course I miss you,” you whisper, half-insulted that he’d even ask that. Can’t he see how much this is tearing you apart? “I miss all of it.”

“You don’t have to though,” JJ says. “We can go back to how it was.”

You finally look back down to see his hand still atop of yours. Touch gentle and kind. He used to be kind to you, all the time. Never would raise his voice at you and would never make you cry. But after John B and Sarah vanished, their deaths presumed, it was like something in him snapped. It’s easier to destroy a sandcastle than to build it, and JJ seemed hellbent on destroying whatever bond the two of you had - the love the both of you shared - rather than trying to protect it.

Your relationship with JJ was delipidating. Like a temple built on an eroding cliff, what was once beautiful and serene is now crumbling away, brick by brick. Pope and Kiara and even a stranger in the Goddamn street can see how dysfunctional it is. What was once affection and care is now venom and pain. And yet, underneath all the animosity, there’s still a love that keeps the two of you in place, fighting for things to stay together. After every blowout, one of you ends up in tears and the other is ironically the only person who can comfort them. Then comes the kisses and the apologies and the make-up sex, and the promises to not fight again, and to do better, and to fix what you have. But it’s all a fiction. The next fight comes and it’s uglier still.

JJ seems almost unrecognisable to you most days. The drinking and the drugs and the recklessness is hideous. Brings a pain to your heart that can only be rivalled by the one that comes when you fight. Pope and Kiara don’t see it as much as you do. It’s like he tapers it down for them, only giving them a glimpse. But you’ve always had the honour of seeing every part of JJ, including this. When you beg for him to stop drinking, to try and get himself under control, he goes on the defence. JJ’s words shoot to kill when he’s mad. And it’s like the venom in his words brings out an ugly side of you, too. Infects you with his anger until you're lashing out. When you’re in blind fury, you don’t care what you say, so long as it’s painful. Words that you’d never think come flying out of your mouth. Things you’d never mean are said with nothing short of conviction. About him. About his dad. About him being like his dad. About John B too, sometimes. About it being JJ’s fault. But he doesn’t hold back either. About you. About you and your parents. About you and your exes. About you and John B too, sometimes. It’s ugly and painful and evil.

But it was always words. Sticks and stones, right? You can sooth any cut from a slander with an apology said through soft kisses and softer caresses. Overlay the memory of an insult with sweet-nothings and moans of affirmation. Only words. So, when the next inevitable fight comes with the two of you at his house, after JJ does something particularly stupid at a kegger after flirting with a girl right in front of you to make you jealous, all because you’d said something the other night, you prepare for the hurl of abuse.

“I was just fucking talking to her!” JJ shouts.

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You were practically drooling all over her.”

“Drooling!?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re fucking delusional, you know that?” he chuckles darkly.

“I’m delusional?”

“Yeah, you are.”

“Are you seriously calling your own girlfriend crazy, right now? Do you know how Goddamn sexist that is?” you snap.

JJ shakes his head and does that all-too-familiar walk to his kitchen. You follow as per. It’s like the two of you follow a script when you fight. Insult, jab, insult, jab, drink, jab, insult, cry, silence, drink, comfort, kiss, sex, apologies, promises, sleep. It’s tiresome and it’s pathetic but you don’t want to leave it, because if you do, then you have to face the alternative. You have to face having nothing. No arguments and no JJ. Somehow, arguing with JJ is better than not having him to talk to at all.

But with every fight comes the fading hope that this rough patch will pass, and you’ll be out of the woods, stronger than before.

“Don’t walk away from me, JJ!”

“Stop screaming at me like a psycho bitch!” he shouts back, slamming the fridge door shut. Beer bottle now in hand.

“Don’t call me a bitch, you asshole!” you scream. "Don't you dare drink that!"

JJ laughs at you. "God, it is adorable how you think I give a shit about anything you say to me."

"Oh, I'm so sorry that I actually give a shit about your health! Clearly you don't, snorting any fucking thing you can get your hands-on like some deadbeat junkie."

JJ isn't replying. Won't fight back. Drinking from his bottle like he can't even hear you. Makes you angrier. Say something, do something.

"Guess you're just living up to the family-traits though, huh? Like father like Goddamn son. No wonder your mom left you."

It takes you a moment to realise what made you stop shouting. What made your breath get caught halfway in your throat, heart thumping loudly in your ears. Then, your eyes are slowly drifting down to the floor, to the side of your feet.

Shards of the broken bottle are scattered on the floor. Beer drips down the wall, spills onto the floorboards, pools around the pieces of glass. The sound of shattering was so loud when it hit the wall. No wonder; it happened right by your ear. It was practically inches from your face.

The shock subsides enough to let tears come. You let out a shuddering breath as the reality hits that it could’ve hit you in the face. That could’ve been your face.

When your eyes come to focus again, moving to glance up into JJ’s, he looks just as shocked as you. Just as horrified.

“Baby…”

He starts towards you.

You hold up a hand, prompting him to stop, and take a wobbly step backwards.

“Don’t,” you rasp. You sound terrified. Half don't recognise your own voice.

That could’ve been your face.

“Baby, I didn’t mean to,” JJ whispers, his voice breaking. “I didn’t…I don’t know why I did that. I…”

Your eyes lower to the ground as your hand gradually falls limp by your side. You look to the glass and beer on the floor. How ironically poetic.

“What are we doing, JJ?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he hopelessly replies.

You shake your head. Eyes still fixated on the broken bottle. “I don’t…I don’t think this is love anymore, JJ.”

“Don’t say that,” JJ says.

“It can’t be,” you continue, ignorant to his pleas. JJ comes towards you once more and you shake your head, turning away from him before he can make a grab for your hands. “I can’t keep doing this.”

“I know,” he says.

His arms wrap around your waist. He hugs you against him, nestles his face in your hair, presses some kisses against your scalp. There’s the inconsistent drip of his tears.

“I’m sorry,” he’s mumbling into your hair. “I’m sorry. I won’t do that again. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean to, okay? I’m so sorry, baby.”

But it’s too late, isn’t it?

Before it was words and that was torturous enough. It was painful when he’d say things to you that he knew would hurt, sure, but you’ve never been afraid of him before. But this, now…You can’t go back. You can’t ever go back from that. It’s with a terrifying thought and a fresh wave of tears that you come to the realisation that you’re scared of JJ. You’re scared of the only person who you’re supposed to find comfort and love in. How does that even happen to someone?

“I know you are,” you eventually say in reply to all his apologies.

JJ pauses, settling on pressing more kisses to your head, squeezing his arms around you tighter, closer, as if trying to stop you from slipping away. But a vase covered in cracks can’t hold water in. You push his arms off you and break yourself free from his hold.

“But I can’t do this anymore.”

He mumbles your name. When you don’t turn, heading to grab your jacket from the sofa, he says it again, loud and desperate. You know he’s crying. He’s sobbing. So are you.

“Please, please don't leave me.”

It hurts. It all just fucking hurts. You head for the door. Shake off his hand as it clasps around your wrist.

“Please, baby. We can make this right, okay? We can fix it. I can fix this. Just don't leave me.”

It’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to do, walking out his door. In fact, you think a part of your soul dies a little as you do. Left haunting his house is the ghost of your past self that you’ll spend forever trying to find again.

You carefully inch your hand out of his touch and get up, walking to the sink, mug in hand. JJ’s sighing. You catch in the reflection of the window as he hangs his head, palms covering his face. Pouring the leftover coffee down the drain, you try and gather your thoughts and feelings. They all conclude into one.

“I think you should leave now, JJ,” you weakly announce.

Your eyes glance at the window's reflection in time to catch his head lift. Then, you’re looking back down into the sink. Remnants of coffee sit stagnant in the basin. More tears fall.

“What?”

“I really think you need to leave,” you repeat.

“Baby,” JJ says, getting up. He’s walking over to you and your heart sinks.

“Don’t call me that, JJ,” you tell him. But there’s no conviction in your tone. How can there be, when all you are is a crying, fragile mess.

“Baby, please,” he repeats, ignoring you once more. His arms are wrapping around your waist, hugging you against him. It's painful deja vu. You shake your hand and put down the coffee mug, moving to try and push his arms off you. It feels claustrophobic.

“Stop calling me that,” you whimper.

This all hurts so much. The knife is twisting and turning and driving deeper and deeper.

“I don’t want you to call me that anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” JJ says. “If we both miss each other then why can’t we just go back to how it was? I can make it up to you. I can be better, this time. I can get clean. I'll be sober for you. I'll do anything.”

Finally, you managed to break free from his hold. You turn around, placing an arm on his chest to maintain some distance. His hands are still open, as if waiting to catch you.

“That’s not that point, JJ,” you tell him.

“Then what is the point? Why is this so easy for you? I mean, did you ever love me at all? Why aren’t you as torn up about all of this like I am? Did you ever care?”

His tone is turning sour, just the way it used to during your fights. It all comes screaming back to you. The desperation and the battles and the pure exhaustion of trying to hold onto a handful of sand, that only will inevitably slip through your fingers. But it makes the emotions catch fire. Searing hot pain.

“Of course I did!” you burst, eyes wet and voice fire. JJ takes a small step back, startled. “Of course I loved you and of course I miss you! I miss all of it, okay? I miss the way we were and the way you used to look at me. I miss you when I go to sleep and I miss you when I wake up. But I can’t have you in my life anymore, JJ. All the shit that happened between us leaves a sour taste in my mouth, and I can’t erase the past like it didn’t happen. Even if we did move forward, the past is always going to be there. There’s no way to get rid of that!”

JJ’s sobbing, looking away from you. You realise that you’re crying too. Hard and heavy and can barely catch your breath.

“I mean, God, JJ. Do you know how selfish it is for you to be here right now?”

His head darts back to face you. Emotions a mess, you feel your forlorn expression morph into a demented smile. Through a tearful, self-deprecating laugh, you manage out:

“I was barely just holding it together. Barely just surviving, and then you come here and say all these things to me and have this assumption that what you want is what’s right. But it isn’t, for either of us.”

“But we could just—"

“No! We can’t be together again, JJ!”

Letting out a shuddering breath, you hear your words almost echo around the room. JJ’s staring at you. Both of you are heartbroken. What a pitiful, pathetic mess it has all become.

“We can’t, okay?” you repeat, voice softer. Anger gone.

JJ purses his lips and looks down at the floor. You watch as he nods, closing his eyes as he does, as if he’s admitted something to himself.

“Okay,” he whispers. Sniffs harshly. Wipes at his face. You do the same. “Okay.”

This isn’t how you want it to end. You don’t want him to walk out the door with this as his last memory of you. You can’t keep letting the season end on a bad episode. So, slowly, you reach out a hand to grab for one of his. His arms are hanging by his side, defeated. At the touch of your fingers, his instinctively wrap around yours, and he raises his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. The tears have now subsided, for the most part.

He gives a quivering smile. Bitter-sweet and painful. “Me too.”

He squeezes your hand in his. Now, there’s almost nothing. No zip of excitement or sooth of comfort, and no jolt of pain. Just…JJ.

“I don’t want you to hate me for—”

“I could never hate you,” you say, cutting him off. Smiling yourself, the expression a mirror-reflection of his, you nod. “There’s gonna be a part of me that’s always gonna love you, JayJ. You were my first everything, and that doesn’t go away. Ever. I’ll always be rooting for you and I’m always gonna care for you. But…I have to do it from a distance now, okay? It’s the only way either of us can move on with our lives.”

JJ swallows your words like one might swallow medicine. Unpleasant at the time but affirms a healthy future.

"I know," he nods. "I'm always gonna love you too."

You find yourself wrapping your arms around his neck. Holding him in a hug, tight and secure. His arms coil around your waist and he squeezes you back. The two of you know this will probably be the last time you ever embrace. Ever get to hold him, and him hold you. Neither of you wants to waste it, but neither of you wants to drag it out, in fear that they may never let go. As you pull away, JJ presses a brief, fleeting kiss to your cheek.

Standing in front of one another, once more, you remember the hurricane. The windows are rattling in their frames, rain battering down on them. It’s intense out there.

“You want me to stay?” JJ wonders softly.

You frown.

“I mean-” He gesture to the hurricane-induced storm outside. “I know how you hate them.”

You smile, eyes flitting down. Shaking your head, you sigh. “I need to face them on my own now, I think.”

JJ chuckles soberly. Nodding in understanding, he takes a step or two back. His hands slip into his pockets.

“Then…I guess I should leave.”

“Are you gonna be okay walking home?” you ask. You meant what you said: you’ll always care for him.

JJ nods, smiling brighter still. There’s still the shadow of pain that haunts the expression though.

“Yeah. You know me, I live on the edge.”

With his wink to accompany his sardonic words, you give a soggy laugh. JJ grants you a small wave and another smile. Your favourite smile. Your favourite person. Then, he’s turning around and walking himself to the front door. You hear the gust of wind battle into the house as he opens it, and the hearty slam as he forces it closed.

Standing stoic in the kitchen as if stupefied, you stare after him.

It’s done.

No more new memories. Only the old, to have and to hold, to care for and to cherish. Right now, they’re painful and visceral, but give it time, and they’ll be digestible. You can comb through them and smile and reminisce. Beneath almost every emotion is a tinge of happiness, be it grief or anger. Heartbreak will simply be the same.

Walking back to the living room, you cuddle up under a blanket on the sofa and snuggle against the cushions. Flicking the television back on, you sigh, sit, and continue watching your new show.

From inside the chateau, the windows rattle from a vicious blow of wind.

“What are you doing?” JJ snorts. His voice sounds like it’s come from the doorway.

You look up from the spot you’ve claimed on the floor, cocooned in a blanket. Your cheeks are wet from tears and JJ’s face becomes void of humour, instead morphing into concern.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” he worries, quickly coming over to you.

“It’s dumb,” you sniffle.

JJ shakes his head as he lowers to his knees, wrapping you into his arms. “It's not dumb.”

“You don’t know what it is yet.”

“Well, even if it is dumb, I won’t love you any less. Just might judge you a little, is all.”

You gently batt at his stomach at his stupid joke, making him chuckle.

“What is it?” he asks again, shifting so he can look you in the eyes.

Your rolling your eyes at your ways when you answer. “I hate hurricanes. I guess I have a fear of them or whatever you wanna call it.”

“A fear?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, wiping your wet face.

JJ nods, humming in understanding. He glances around the room a moment and you find yourself inching closer to him for shelter. A flash of lightning shoots a dart of light in the room and you can’t withhold your pathetic, childlike whimper, closing your eyes. Then comes the doomsday thunder. It’s a short pause between the two; means it’s getting closer.

“Here,” JJ says, getting to his feet. He holds out a hand for you and helps you up. “I got an idea.”

“You do?” You say.

You tug the blanket around your shoulders like a shawl. JJ starts moving the sofas and furniture into a weird arrangement. You simply stand back and watch.

“My mamma used to do this for me,” JJ says through a grunt. “Whenever I was scared.”

“JJ Maybank? Scared?” You jest.

He rolls his eyes as he perfects the formation of the armchair, smiling. “Yeah, yeah. Hard to believe, I know.”

“What were you scared of?”

“The dark. And the monsters in my dad’s closet,” JJ replies. He’s now grabbing any blanket he can find.

“The monsters?” you repeat, humour clear in your voice.

“Hey, I didn’t make fun of your current fear of hurricanes, did I?” JJ warns, pointing at you.

You nod and hold your hands up in surrender. That’s fair. “So, what did your mamma used to do then?”

“She’d make me blanket forts,” he says. “To hide from the monsters and the dark.”

“A blanket fort?” you check, smiling.

He’s dragging a blanket over the sofas to make a shelter. You catch on and start to gather some of the throw pillows and couch cushions to make it cosy on the floor, whilst JJ finishes on the structure.

“Yeah. It’s like one of my favourite memories I have of her. She’d make them real cosy and then we’d watch a movie, and I’d be safe.”

When it’s all finished, JJ turns to you and grins. Gesturing proudly to his creation – bumpy as it is – you grin, giggling a little. “Ta da!”

“A Maybank tradition,” you say.

He climbs into the fort and settles on the cushions. The light from the lamp casts through the blanket to give the faintest glow. Holding out his hand, you take it with a laugh and move to sit beside him. He shifts you so you can lay with your head resting on his chest. His arm loops around your waist and you place a hand on his side. It’s quiet in here. The rainfall is barely audible and the thunder is muffled. It feels like its own world, safe from anything else. Safe with JJ.

He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“So, what’d ya think?”

“I think this might be the most romantic thing you’ve ever done, Maybank,” you reply, looking up at him.

JJ grins. “Just wait ‘til we get that gold. The blanket forts are gonna be insane.”

You laugh and shake your head. JJ falls into an extravagant daydream of the forts he’ll build for you: with drawbridges and dragons and all sorts of ridiculous crap, that you know he’s only spewing because it’ll get a laugh out of you. Settling against his chest, feeling the rumble of his voice and shaking of his laughs through his t-shirt, you smile. What a sweetly clandestine memory to share.

#jj #jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #obx #obx fic #outer banks #outerbanks #outer banks fic #outerbanks fic #jj angst #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x reader angst #jj x reader angst #obx angst #obx preferences

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chicoca · 8 months

Text

Did you know that i have your heart in the garden?

Chapter two: can't take my eyes off of you/ ao3

Song: can't take my eyes off you - engelbert humperdinck

Warnings: Violent descriptions and suggestive acts.

Words: 7.6K

dedicated to my beloved @yezzyyae ♡

A few days before his arrival, Michael and Nina face their own forbidden desires. A look at Nina's engagement. And small encounters.

Read masterlist for summary and playlist <3

Don Tommasino’s house remained relatively silent, even with all the soldiers hanging around. What he could always hear was the melody that the little radio, in the kitchen, was playing. Some italian ballads with romantic tones that set the mood for silent afternoons. Sometimes, when he came down unexpectedly, he dared to think that you were there in the kitchen, dancing slowly to the music, feeling the notes in your being.

As every Saturday he had planned an outing to Palermo, in the company of his bodyguards. It wasn’t like they could defend him. The reality was that they served as witnesses and backup for anything that happened in Sicily. He didn’t know much, but they told him things were tense between The Families. New businesses with new faces arrived. Men deported from the United States who managed to establish themselves as new mafiosi. Prostitution, drugs and corruption already invaded Sicily. But these men appeared more aggressive, and that was bad to the Don. Because he was an old–fashioned man, his domain didn’t contemplate things beyond the management of territories and alliances with the wealthiest men in town. His power within those large spaces attracted the attention of the new mafiosi, causing their protection to be weakened.

The Quintana family had control of drug trafficking in Corleone, especially heroin, which is why they had the power to intimidate the new mafiosi. By having a large hectares of crops and a lot of men in production, they dominated that business. Like the new mafiosi, the Quintanas also wanted to own the lands that Don Tommasino managed, as well as his contacts with the elite and politics. Don Tommasino didn’t mix with the new forms of extortion, having the police on his side and Lieutenant Gaspare Pisciotta, he was protected from any ambush.

That’s why the war didn’t end. Men died from side to side but no one gave in. Don Tommasino wasn’t going to, much less Guido Quintana. But time has passed and the Dons, even without retiring, have granted opinions from their heirs. Simone supported his father in maintaining the land and promoted new perspectives on the trafficking business. And Leandro, for his part, had an alliance in mind, because, according to him, the De Rosas and the Quintanas could be much stronger if they were united. Of course, that meeting ended in an altercation where Don Tommasino profoundly refused to involve you. Leandro promised that it would be his only attempt to mediate peace, since he didn’t intend to be soft on his enemies. For Don Tommasino that was final, but he didn’t count on Leandro finding you in Paris while you were studying. His plan was almost perfect. Court you, fall in love, get married and inevitably become part of the De Rosas, you being a Quintana. It would be something irreparable for the clan.

Sadly for him, your soul was too indomitable to fall for a man thirsty for your father’s power. You knew it the third or fourth time he spoke to you, but you still couldn’t walk away. Leandro appeared in many places, persuading you with presents, pretty words and smiles. When that didn’t work he was honest with you. He admitted that he would hurt your father, even though he didn't want to because that meant hurting you. For him there were two ways to get what he wanted, and there was a good way and a bad way. You had to decide.

Although you never wanted to get involved in your father’s business, you were aware of it and supportive of his decisions regarding what the family meant. You met politicians, greeted their wives, talked to their daughters while your father made deals in his office. You knew how it worked and your father wouldn’t lie to you if you asked. At the end of the day you understood the value of his work, and you loved him so much that you didn’t have to think twice. Leandro wasn’t a bad man, he didn’t treat you badly, he didn't threaten you directly, and he never tried to do anything to you. For you, he was just asking you to help, and how could you not do it if it meant your father’s safety.

When your brothers found out they swore death to the Quintanas. Even Guido didn’t agree to form such a bond. But you got stubborn. Leandro was capable of murdering your entire family in order to ascend and dominate all of Corleone. He was hungry for power and your family was just an obstacle that, for better or worse, he had to deal with. The Quintanas were known for being bloodthirsty and cruel. They had no mercy with women, children or babies. They had killed entire families, including pets. They left no trace of anything after stealing it all.

You took it as a duty. Something you could do and live with. Leandro was attractive and educated. He could be a good man if he put his mind to it. You wouldn’t be the first woman to marry for convenience. And even though your father never wanted that fate for you, it seemed that the world chose to reduce your life like that. It was ultimate. You agreed to get married with the promise that your family would be fine, like a guarantee of the mafia. Leandro didn’t plan to disappoint you, with the commitment to marry you, Don Tommasino granted some land that would only be given with the birth of the firstborn Quintana–De Rosa.

You hadn’t thought about being a mother yet. But you knew that Leandro had it in mind and wanted to get you pregnant as soon as possible. Therefore, your wedding would be in a week. Planned in less than a month. A month that you left college, abandoning your artistic dreams in the name of your family. You could still write and publish, you have been doing it for a while. Also teach literature at a local school. But your great aspirations were already a thing of the past. Travel the world, learn, live your experiences deeply. You planned to be free, with the power that being your father’s daughter gave you. For a moment you seemed to escape the fate of every woman in the Sicilian mafia. But time came to you with the face of a man whom you will have to tolerate your entire life. That’s your destiny.

So Michael was a surprise to you. The obvious attraction was clear, and maybe in another world you would have tried something. But it was impossible, Michael seemed to be an inaccessible man in his own tumult of problems. You had your own. So, no matter how hard it was, avoiding him was the best, because in his presence you seemed to talk more, and flirt, and be who you were before Leandro appeared.

You knew that that Saturday he would go out to Palermo with his guards. That’s why you stayed in the kitchen helping your mother with lunch. He wouldn’t eat at home, preferring to take a couple of sandwiches for the road. As an irony of life, your mother asked you to debone the chickens that he would take. So now, with the ballad playing in the background, you shook your hips gently while you sank your fingers into the oily flesh. Behind you your mother was talking about the decorations that would arrive tomorrow. But you couldn’t pay attention, because you heard those footsteps approaching.

At the entrance to the kitchen he appears with his hair combed carelessly, wearing all dark, pants and dress shirt under a large coat, and he stands there with his gloved hands crossed, waiting to be noticed.

He’s behind you, you know it by the tingle that runs down your spine, it feels warm like drinking coffee on a cold day. His perfume and the smell of soap, that only visitors use, impregnated your senses with his essence, a delight that you took with your eyes closed.

“Good morning, Michele. Ready to go, I see” Your mother said cheerfully.

You looked over your shoulder as he approached and leaned on the counter. For a second he looked at you in the eyes, but you turned around avoiding him.

“Buongiorno Signora De Rosa… Buongiorno Nina (Good morning Mrs. De Rosa… Good morning Nina)” The way he curled his tongue saying your name almost gave you a shiver, so slow it seemed like he was savoring naming you.

“Nina, saluta il ragazzo… Dio, questa ragazza è tra le nuvole (Nina, greet the boy… God, this girl is in the clouds)” You turned around looking briefly at your mother. You blushed a little at the embarrassment you felt, if Michael noticed it he made no attempt to show it.

“Buongiorno Michele, sarai a Palermo tutto il pomeriggio? (Good morning Michael, will you be in Palermo all afternoon?)” You asked, going to wash your hands from the chicken grease.

You were wearing a long skirt that swayed with every step you took. Michael couldn’t help but look at your hips, as the fabric hugged your curves for a few precious seconds before releasing them.

“Starò lì per qualche ora… (I’ll be there for a couple of hours)” He answered.

You turned and took the plate with the chicken to the counter. Your mother had already cut the bread, so your job was to fill it and wrap it. Under his watchful gaze, you began to prepare his food.

“Well… Nina has to try on her dress. Oh! Michele, is very very pretty” Your mother said, making gestures in the air, imitating the fabric falling from the veil.

“Oh really? When is the wedding?” His eyes seemed to pierce your being. You didn’t know what he was thinking, but you wondered why he looked at you that way.

“Next Saturday! Oh mi Dio! sarà bello bello (Oh my God! It will be beautiful beautiful)” Your mother exclaimed enthusiastically “You are gonna be there, don’t you Michele?”.

“I don’t think so. I’m not invited” His passive tone of voice failed to demonstrate the clear intention of questioning you. For your part, you could only look at him with a raised eyebrow, not quite understanding what he wanted from you.

“Oh but of course you are invited! It’s a big celebration”.

“Mama, I don’t think is a good idea” You interrupted “Michele needs to go unnoticed. Leandro’s entire family and ours will be hanging around the house. I don’t think it will be good for him… for you” You finished saying with your eyes fixed on him.

He just shrugged his shoulders and stood up, no longer leaning on the counter in front of you. You were finishing making the sandwiches when he stole a piece of chicken from you and put it in his mouth. You don’t know exactly what it was, but his intense gaze, the way he left his fingers suspended against his lips and the soft way he chewed enthralled you. The last thing was his tongue passing over his lips, tasting the tips of his fingers. It was in the almost smile that he formed, the small vestige of what he noticed that provoked you. You couldn’t understand what happened until your mother held you by the shoulders.

“It’s ready, Nina. Can you go out and call your brother?” Your mother’s request brought you out of trance. You didn’t look at him again, you didn’t want to know what face he had.

Michael watched you leave. He followed you with his eyes until he stopped in your absence. Even so the kitchen kept your perfume, he would recognize it anywhere after carrying it in his pocket for days. Your handkerchief folded in the left pocket of his coat, just above his chest. If he concentrated he could feel the folds and the light weight pressing against him. He thought if maybe he would be able to imagine your hand in the place of that handkerchief.

You, leaning on the door frame, gestured for Calogero to come in. That day only your brother and mother were in the house for lunchtime. Your father had to make many agreements with the Quintanas. Agreements in which you didn’t actively participate, at the request of your fiancé. Your father promised you that everything was going well, that’s why you didn’t worry when you knew that he was sharing with people that, for a long time, he called enemies.

Calogero told you he would be in in a second, so you decided to come back to the kitchen. Thinking about seeing Michael caused a strange feeling, a childish emotion that exploded in your chest with the desire to giggle for nothing. It made you want to run or jump in order to expend this ball of excitement that made no sense to you. It was dangerous, a break in your perfectly planned scheme that involved no one but Leandro. A part of you wants to feel the same emotions for your fiancé, it would be much easier that way. But there were so many differences, and you didn’t even understand where that attraction, that seemed to push you towards him, came from.

You thought about going to your room. Pretending that you had to do something. To wait for him to leave so you could walk freely around your house. You didn’t even think that he was looking for you, that he was stealthily watching you from behind, with your handkerchief pressed to his nose. He admired your silhouette still near the half-open door. The cold made your skin crawl, and for a second you felt a tug in your stomach that served as a warning, as if you were an animal, you felt the presence on your back, and you turned around so quickly that you hit his hand, the one holding the handkerchief, throwing it down.

“Oh! Che spavento (Oh! What a scare)... I’m so sorry Michele, I didn’t see you” You made to bend down to pick it up but he stopped you.

“Don’t worry, it was my fault” He said as he put one of his knees on the ground to pick it up. His head stayed close to your hip and as he looked up you admired his bruised face in the pale winter light.

“You should let a doctor look at that injury” You didn’t control yourself. You raised your hand to gently run your fingertips over his jaw. You felt his rough skin against yours, a warmth that you didn’t expect to receive.

Michael avoided closing his eyes when he felt you caress him. He slowly took your wrist and moved it away from his face. He rose until he was standing, still holding you. When he noticed this he let go, and tried not to focus on the warmth he still felt from having touched you.

“Don’t worry” He said without adding more.

You watched him put your handkerchief in his pocket and then adjust his coat. With a paper bag with his food ready, he was going to ask you to move out the door. At that moment Calogero entered.

“Buon pomeriggio Michele, goditi Palermo! (Good afternoon Michael, enjoy Palermo!)” He said as he grabbed you by the shoulders, almost carrying you along with him “Ho fame, sorella, mangiamo! (I'm hungry, sister, let’s eat!)” He almost didn’t wait for you to go to the dining room.

Behind you Michael had already left and was talking to Calo and Fabrizio. Without looking at him again, you followed your brother. Michael briefly watched you leave. He asked one of his guards to close the door and began walking, thinking about the fresh air he would have in Palermo.

“Raccontaci qualcosa di New York (Tell us something about New York)” Said Fabrizio while eating.

The three men were sitting on the dry grass. That particular day it wasn’t so cold and the humidity had decreased.

“Sai che sono di New York? (How do you know I’m from New York?)” asked Michael.

“Noi ascoltiamo. Qualcuno ci ha detto che eri importante – a big-a shot (We heard. Somebody told us you were real important)” responded Fabrizio. Calo, next to him, nodded.

“I’m the son of a big shot” That made both men curious.

“L’America è ricca come dicono? (Is America as rich as they say?)” Fabrizio asked again, Michael noticed his interest in his country. Calo rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Smettila di seccarmi con queste cose sull’America rica!! (Stop bothering me with this rich America stuff!!)” Fabrizio just laughed while Calo grunted in boredom.

“Hey, take me to the America! If you need a good lupara in America” Fabrizio says while palming his gun “Take me, I’ll be the best man you can get!” He ends by saying with genuine enthusiasm.

“I’ll think about it” Michael said, looking around. Fabrizio applauded at his response “What’s going on there?”.

In the distance, in a small straw house, an altercation was taking place between four men. One of them, an old man, was on his knees praying with his palms together. Michael could see the difference between them, the standing men carried rifles similar to those of Fabrizio and Calo, they were talking to each other stiffly while they pointed at the house and the old man. Suddenly one of them kicks the man in the chin making him scream in pain. Another of the men points the gun and shoots into the man’s back, causing the other two to fire a burst of bullets at high speed.

“Merda! Andiamo! Andiamo! (Shit! Let’s go! Let’s go!)” Fabrizio exclaimed, taking his lupara and sliding through the grass until he reached the street. Michael and Calo followed him.

“What’s happening?” Michael asked somewhat crouched, the three of them moved downwards.

“A punizione” Calo said.

When they were further away they stopped. Michael looked back waiting for one of the men to appear but there was no one.

“What’s a punizione?” Michael asked.

“Some men rob these shacks that serve as shelter for soldiers… The owners, the clan, punish with death” Fabrizio said, passing his hand over his forehead, he looked nervous.

“That old man robbed that house?” He asked incredulously.

“Probably not. But they surely saw him nearby and he didn’t have backup to defend him” Michael looked at him intently, as if he didn’t fully understand what he was saying “Look, there are rules here that you don’t know. That’s why we walk with you wherever. Anyone could accuse you of something and kill you instantly”.

“Morto morto (Dead dead)” Calo whispered, Michael ignored him.

“Don’t worry. You just have to go unnoticed. Do not go to places with many people, especially with people from other clans” Fabrizio warned.

“The Quintana family will come to the wedding” Calo mentioned, Fabrizio nodded to it.

“Devi essere atento… Careful (You have to be careful)” Michael nodded, starting to talk down the hill “A wedding!” Fabrizio suddenly exclaimed.

“Un matrimonio (A wedding)” Calo followed.

“Quella bella donna si sposa, è così carina (That pretty woman is getting married, so pretty)” Fabrizio said, bringing his hands to his chest.

“Pretty pretty” Calo said.

“Cosa darei per una donna così. È instruita… e ha un corpo! (What would I give for a woman like that. She is educated… and has a body!” He made the faint of your hips with his hands and grunted in ecstasy.

“Un bel corpo, ben formato (A good body, well formed)” Continued Calo.

Michael remained silent.

“What a pity that she’s going to marry a Quintana” Fabrizio proclaimed sadly.

“Pensa che Nina lo guarderebbe! (He thinks Nina would look at him!)” Calo said mockingly. He elbowed Michael to make him laugh.

“Why it’s a shame that she marries Quintana?”.

“Why?! That man is the devil” Fabrizio exclaimed, Calo next to him nodded “L’hai visto con il vecchio? (Did you see that with the old man?)” Michael nodded “Ha fatto lo stesso con un bambino (Did the same with a kid)”.

“Lo sapevano tutti, aveva lasciato il corpo per strada (Everyone knew, he left the body in the street)” Said Calo.

“And she knows that?” Michael couldn’t imagine that, knowing that information, you would marry him.

“No no, that girl doesn’t know anything” Fabrizio hit his forehead in a mocking gesture “According to what they say, she returned from Paris with the man on her arm”.

“The Don wasn’t happy, no no” Calo added.

“True! But the wedding will happen anyway, it’s a surprise”.

“Why?” Michael asked again.

“Guardalo, che curiosità (Look at him, so curious)” Calo giggled, Michael ignored him.

“Quintana e De Rosa are enemies” Fabrizio commented, approaching a tree to rest “They have fought over Corleone for years. Don Guido hates Don Tommasino. Some say they have a personal conflict” Calo nodded at that and pointed to Fabrizio.

“They say Don Tommasino had an affair with Don Guido’s wife” Fabrizio laughed.

“No no, that isn’t true. But whatever, they hate each other, so they never agreed on anything. So, when his daughter appeared with Leandro Quintana proclaiming they are going to marry everyone was shocked”.

“Shocked!” Calo repeated.

“And no one knows how that happened?” Michael asked. Calo looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

“So curious for girl Nina, eh?” Michael rolled his eyes and sat down.

“I just have questions… That guy, Leandro, is he really bad?” Fabrizio sighed and adjusted his lupara.

“Yes, he first killed when he was twelve years old. He killed his dog because it barked so loud. We all knew he hated the De Rosa family, he wanted to have it all in Corleone. Maybe he loves her, we don’t know, but that man is crazy” Fabrizio said.

They were silent for a moment, which Michael appreciated because his mind was full of you. Leandro didn’t seem like a particularly aggressive man when he met him. He remembers the handshake, the cordial smile and the soft kiss he left on your cheek, which continues to surprise him. For a Sicilian he was quite daring with his fiancee. But what he still keeps in his mind was your downcast gaze and the lack of reciprocity with him. He knew there were parts he still didn’t understand, but you seemed to be indecipherable even in your transparency.

He wanted to know why you looked at him that way. Why did he feel that you asked something from him every time he saw those beautiful eyes. He would give you whatever you wanted if his soul was weak, but he knows his limits. And even though his desires went beyond being nice to you, he couldn’t allow himself to be a man to you. If Leandro really was who they said he was, it was better for Michael to stay aside and just have the joy of looking at you for these months that he had left in Sicily.

The day seemed calm. After lunch the only thing left to do was do nothing, since you didn’t have things scheduled. The wedding was approaching and the preparations were ready, the only thing left to do was say “I do” and be a Quintana. It still seems like a dream when you think about it. Marrying Leandro and starting a family. He had already confessed to you that he wanted at least five children, something that left you silent, causing him to laugh. In your mind there was barely the possibility of having one, you didn’t want to think beyond that, but five babies, you were already tired of just imagining it. Even so you accepted, the only thing you asked him was that you wouldn’t be involved in his business.

For your father the business was a man’s job, which didn’t involve women or children. Being a little soft to you, he let you know a few things when you were curious. But it was a curiosity fueled by concern. Seeing your father tired or angry made you alert and controlling, you wanted to know what was happening and what to do. There was very little you could do, but you could try to understand, give him an ear for his angry babbling, be someone he can trust.

You were spoiled, you had always been a daddy’s girl, no one could blame you if he was around and your brothers were the same. But that would end, you knew it when you saw your father’s disappointed eyes. Being Leandro’s wife would distance you from him, it would put you in a position in which he couldn’t intervene. His sadness was so big that he cried when he found out that you were getting married, that even with his greatest efforts he could not keep you away from danger. Leandro promised to never hurt you and, although it was difficult for him to admit it, he actually believed him. But that wasn’t the problem, it was what that marriage meant. A contract between families that would make them partners for life, unbreakable the moment the heir is born. What will happen when Leandro wants his son to be the Don of both families? Death, death between cousins and brothers like the old royalty.

Protecting the family condemned it in the future. But you only thought about the present, that your father’s health was becoming more and more compromised, that Simone has not yet married or formed his own life to take on a power. If you could guarantee that Leandro wouldn’t murder anyone and would be prudent in his decisions with your family, then there was nothing to fear and nothing else mattered.

Now, sitting against the trunk of your favorite tree, you were reading Felicia Hemans.

“Lonely she stood:–in her mournful eyes // Lay the clear midnight of southern skies, //And the drooping fringe of their lashes low, //Half veil'd a depth of unfathom'd wo. //Stately she stood–tho' her fragile frame //Seem'd struck with the blight of some inward flame, //And her proud pale brow had a shade of scorn, //Under the waves of her dark hair worn” You murmured following a beaten rhythm.

“... She had been torn from her home away, // With her long locks crown'd for her bridal day, // And brought to die of the burning dreams //That haunt the exile by foreign streams.” You stopped and caressed the pages of the book. The Sicilian captive, how ironic, you thought as you sighed.

You closed the book and stretched out on the grass, you spread your legs letting your skirt rise slightly, you felt the strands of grass touch your shins and you giggled involuntarily at the tickling.

You felt suddenly liberated, with the clear sky above you like a light blanket. The time seemed eternal. You were in a pause that calmed your soul until it left you drowsy. You almost closed your eyes, but the pale blue was too beautiful to ignore it. You wanted to paint the sky. You raised your hands and moved your fingers in the air, simulating invented faces that little by little coincided with already known lines. Round and big eyes with a roman nose that fell at its tip to the cupid’s bow, there its fleshy shape delighted you.

What greater beauty was that hidden among forbidden pleasures?

Michael seemed to completely invade you without doing anything at all. He had bewitched you and now you swarmed to desire him and ignore him. Why wasn’t he the one who found you in Paris? You could imagine him with his clean and smiling face, being just a college student. Has he ever been like that? Free, as you once were? He was a man of war, he was a man of the mafia, but would he be a free man? Could he be the one you would draw in your dreams? Your eternal dreams where life didn’t imprison you in this reality. You dared to think that in another world it would be different. But what would you know? You didn’t even know if he left any woman in New York, if so you would have the excuse to not fantasize about him anymore, he would be a forbidden man, as forbidden as you were.

Life hasn’t smiled on you for a few months now, and now you only have to wait for what destiny has in store for you, because there was not much else to do. You deeply believed that Michael’s arrival could mean something. Your spiritual impulse wanted you to believe that you saw signs, but you couldn’t fall for those things. You were already sunk to believe that there was an escape in the form of a beautiful man.

Now a little annoyed with yourself, you got up to go home, picked up the book in a huff and adjusted your skirt. Your hair retained traces of grass and leaves, tangled in a bun at the nape of your neck, with thin hairs contouring your face.

Without wanting to be in your own body, you left your place to cross the stream, with stones placed by yourself, you crossed your improvised bridge and walked to the fence. Your used and folded book dangled from your hand as you climbed and threw yourself to the other side. You landed on your feet. When you saw that none of your father’s men paid attention to you, you walked to the back entrance.

When you entered you suddenly ran into Michael. He was wearing a simple dress shirt with his black pants and suspenders. He quickly noticed your disheveled appearance and, without showing it, he found himself shocked when he felt the pressure of your body with his.

You pulled away quickly, your red cheeks, whether from how annoyed you were or how embarrassed you felt, gave you an adorable touch that almost made him smile. He could feel his own warmth on his face, the blood pumping rapidly through his veins.

“I’m sorry” You spoke quietly, not looking him in the eyes because you knew you couldn’t escape his gaze.

“Hi Nina, Where were you?” Michael asked as he removed a leaf from your hair, surprised you looked at him.

“Mmm I was in my place, reading” You showed him your book which he took while looking at the cover.

“Who is she?” He pointed his thumb at the face of Felicia Hemans.

“Felicia Hemans, she was a great poet, one of the most read in the english language” Michael still held the book, his long fingers monopolizing the cover, leaving your fingers with almost no space.

“What’s your favorite?” You looked at him a little confused, Michael noticed the tilt of your head and your inquisitive look “Poem, your favorite poem”.

“Oh! The Sicilian captive, that’s my favorite one” He raised his eyebrows a little, almost imperceptible, but you noticed it “A woman who sings about her homeland and how she must die far from it”.

“That’s sad, why do you like that?” Michael didn’t let go of the book, instead he changed the position of his wrist making your fingers brush against the back of his hand.

“It’s beautiful, her pained song due to the abandonment of Sicily, the love for her home makes the poem fall into a wonderful melancholy. The feeling of distance is necessary when you aren’t where you belong” Your words pierced him in the utmost sincerity. His eyes with a softer touch, almost rounded on the edge of a tenderness, gave you a new facet of him.

“Can I borrow it?” You looked at him delighted and nodded effusively. You dropped the book, losing his touch, but quickly took his hands with enthusiasm.

“Yes, yes, you can read it in its entirety and then we can comment on it!”.

Since you left college you haven't shared your readings with anyone. There wasn't any interest in your family, and only Dr. Taza read but you didn’t see him enough to talk as you would like. That Michael wanted to read one of your favorite poems took away any trace of annoyance, and you even forgot that you wanted to get away from him as much as possible. Now you just wanted to share this with him.

“I’m not a skilled reader, don’t expect much from me” You shook your head as you let go.

Michael could feel the waning touch of your hands against his, he wanted to squeeze them in order to keep your warmth.

“Read it. I have more books in my library, maybe I can lend you others later, so you don’t get bored while being here” Michael nodded in agreement.

You wanted to go further into the house, to show him some of the things you had. You were enthralled by the idea of showing him one of your passions. He followed you from behind, watching as your walk moved your disordered clothes in a fluttering swat that he tried to ignore.

“Do you know any writers? Anyone you would like to read? I have many americans in my books” You didn’t notice his gaze on you, so focused on showing him your great collection.

“Poe, I think, I read him in school” Michael said.

You walked down the right hallway opening a door where a large library was located. Michael admired the large shelves and long sofas that were in the center. You approached a corner, put your index finger on the spine of the books and began to read the titles, looking for a specific one. You moved your head from side to side following the letters with your back leaning forward.

Michael could observe the depth of your hips. Round, somewhat pompous, with a softness that, he imagined, must be pleasurable. Your innocently suggestive posture provoked him enough to feel the tension of his body under the clothes. For being in winter his insides felt genuinely hot, almost feverish. He attributed it to being inside the house where the temperature remained warm. Even so, his tense neck had the impulse to turn to continue looking at the room. But impossibly enthralled, your body attracted him enough to surpass his thoughts. For no reason, he compared that curve with his well-known Kay, and for a moment he urgently needed to drink water.

“Here it is!” You said, taking one of the books. You turned around and noticed his stare, a little flustered, you showed him the book “For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams” You recited.

“Annabel Lee” Michael responded with the title of the poem, he took the book in his hands. It had a dark and thick spine, it looked old “Is it inherited?”.

“Yes! It was my grandfather’s. Most of these books belong to the family” You couldn’t help but keep talking “I used to spend a lot of time here when I was a kid. My brothers called me a mouse for hiding and hunched over in this corner” You pointed to your favorite spot, a little armchair.

“I was like that too. Quieter than my brothers” You felt a little tingle knowing that you shared something.

“How many brothers do you have?” You asked, sitting down. Michael sat down too, not too close to you, but close enough to feel his weight on the couch.

“Three and a sister” You looked at him attentively, something he took to continue talking “She… She got married recently”.

“How was it? I guess american weddings are different” Michael shook his head slowly, leaning on his side with his leg bent over the cushion and his arm dangling from the backrest. His entire posture directed at you.

“Most of them were italian. I think all of them, except my companion” That caught your attention. Resting your elbow on the backrest and turning to look at him completely. Both of you looked comfortable on the couch.

“Companion? Your girlfriend?” You asked.

“You could call her that” His somewhat evasive tone made you frown.

“Something happened?” That brought out another shine in his eyes.

“No, nothing happened”.

“And how did she take it?” Michael gestured for you to explain “The fact that you are here, without knowing when you will return”.

“She understands” His passivity made you want to believe him.

“Will you marry her?” That question took him by surprise.

“I don’t know, maybe I should” Even though you asked, you didn’t like his answer and that made you a hypocrite, you knew it.

“Would you do an american wedding? Considering that she is one”.

“No, I don’t think so. Maybe at another time in my life I would have said yes, but I have the need to follow my… Desires” His intense stare made you blush slightly.

“And what are those desires?” You swallowed, you felt nervous even though you didn’t understand why.

“You would like to know”.

Before you could answer, a knock on the side of the door frame announced your mother at the entrance to the library. She looked at you carefully for a second, and then sighed.

“I have dinner ready. Michele, my husband wants to see you” At this Michael nodded and stood up. He didn’t look at you again before disappearing through the door. Your mother looked at you and crossed her arms.

“Cosa fai? Non puoi restare da solo con Michele. Leandro si arrabbierebbe se lo sapesse (What are you doing? You can’t be alone with Michele like that. Leandro would be angry if he knew)” You stood up and rolled your eyes at your mother.

“Non lo saprà (He won’t know)” In response to her silence you added “Non lo saprebbe, vero? Dato che stavo solo chiacchierando, non è che io sia invisibile (He’s not going to know, right? Because I was just chatting, it’s not like I turned invisible)”.

“Dovresti essere invisibile se sei fidanzata con un uomo del genere (You should be invisible if you’re engaged to a man like that)” Your mom hit your shoulder, you whined a little and rubbed yourself.

“Non pensare cose che non sono, e non dire niente a Leandro, sono affari miei cosa gli succede (Don’t think things that aren’t, and don’t say anything to Leandro, it’s my business what happens with him)” Your mother just looked at you disapprovingly.

“Non fare cosa che non dovresti. Ricorda, buone azioni, buoni risultati (Don’t do things you shouldn’t. Remember, good deeds, good results)” You walked away from your mother to go to the dinner room.

“Non preoccuparti, non farò nulla (Don’t worry, I won’t do anything)”.

In Don Tommasino’s office, Armando and Andrea were both sitting while the Don was talking to Michael.

“... It has these beautiful peach trees. I’m sure you would like to see them, I can arrange for you to go next week” Said Don Tommasino while drinking.

“I would like that… Isn’t the wedding next week?” Michael asked, that made Armando look at him.

“Oh! Don’t tell me. Yes, it will be held here at the house. All those Quintanas here as if nothing had happened” His voice showed annoyance, he slammed the glass down on the table and made a gesture at Armando “Where is that bastard?”.

“Leandro? Taking care of a few things, he sent flowers to Nina yesterday” Don Tommasino laughed mockingly, and Andrea smirked knowing that he would say.

“That ugly shit! I saw them last night. They were orange. Damn orange! Doesn’t he know that his fiancee hates orange?” Armando covered his mouth to laugh and gestured to Michael before speaking.

“Nina doesn’t hate orange, he does” He says pointing his chin at his Don “You’re just overprotective of your kid, but remember Nina is old now”.

“No man would keep up with my daughter. There isn’t a man on the face of the earth capable of being equal to her” He suddenly looked at Michael “Your father must have felt the same about your sister”.

“I wouldn’t know. I wasn’t there when the whole engagement happened”.

“You will understand when you have a daughter, I swear” Michael nodded at the glass that Armando offered him.

“If you don’t mind me asking. What’s the problem with Leandro?” That prompted Don Tommasino to sigh deeply as he passed his hand over his forehead.

“The Quintanas have been a problem for years, ever since they wanted to dominate Corleone, fleeing from Giuliano like rats. At first I didn’t think it would be a problem, we don’t have the same businesses. But they want to have things that I have and that has caused many deaths. Now, Leandro is another problem, a much more dangerous one now that my daughter is marrying him” Michael put the glass on the table and leaned back in the chair.

“Why is she marrying him, then?” Armando served another glass to Don Tommasino, Andrea remained silent.

“My daughter is a martyr, Michele. She has always been like that, when she was little she cried for killing spiders and when she was an adolescent she dared to challenge me for Calogero. Seek the good for all… And unfortunately Leandro knew what to do. Did you know that I sent her to Paris? to France, so that she could study and become an educated woman. That fucking bastard found her, I don’t know exactly what he said to her, but when she returned I could feel that something had changed. She had that look she’s always had when she does something that will make me angry. She is equally altruistic and stubborn” He sighed again angrily.

“Don’t be so angry, Nina knows what she’s doing even when you don’t believe it” Armando responded, he offered another glass to Michael but he denied.

“I don’t bless that marriage” He grumbled.

“Anyways… Will Michael be able to attend that wedding?” Armando asked.

“I don’t want to lock you, it’s not natural. But a lot of people will be here and I don’t trust those idiots. I could take you to Doctor Taza” Michael thought about it before denying.

“I would like to be here, I have never been to a genuinely italian wedding” He lied “Don’t worry, I’ve introduced myself under a different name and won’t be in the spotlight”.

“Okay… Just be careful, please”.

At night Michael seemed to have no rest, he looked at the ceiling without a hint of sleep, even when it was already after one in the morning. He was used to sleeping early, but since he arrived in Sicily he only seemed to have insomnia. Among the recurring images in his head he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Even with all the worries locked in the back of his mind, the first thing that came up was the question of what to do. What to do with this interest that seemed to grow every time he saw you. He didn’t know what caused him to desire to possess you.

If he was honest with himself the last thing that mattered to him was your engagement, even though he refused the idea because your fiancé, soon to be husband, was a man whom he shouldn’t confront, not while being hidden under the protection of Don Tommasino. It was too risky to even think about you, and he didn’t understand why with every second that passed he felt like he was infatuated with you.

He remembered the afternoon where he dared to look at your body, and imagined beyond what was allowed. He wanted to know if your skin had the same tone on the curve of your thighs, the curiosity of feeling the soft texture under his fingers, caressing the inside with the slowness of a tickle. Would you be ticklish? Maybe you would giggle amidst the moans that he would gladly listen to. His imagination flew to what you would be like then, if your face would light up with the lust of his touch, if your eyes would mist through those long lashes. He could imagine your long neck stretched out, perfect for him to bite and mark, for your husband to see and know that there was a man pleasuring you, that that man was Michael.

He doesn’t remember if a bold idea had ever excited him so much. Something forbidden. Maybe that made his interest rise, the fact that you were someone outside his limits. And wouldn’t you know it, Michael has been discreet as he should be, but what would happen if he let you know? If perhaps you would dare to be a disloyal woman, even if it means danger. For a second he allowed himself to be selfish, forgetting anything, he just thought that in that same library, in that same couch, you would be there for him, as he wanted and he would do whatever thing he imagined. Curious to know what you would be like blows his mind in a multitude of scenarios. You bent over, stretched out and ready for anything.

In his ecstasy the exhaustion came in a sudden explosion. His dry and surprising orgasm made him gasp in surprise. He lifted his sheets and looked down with his eyebrows furrowed. Like a fucking teenager, he couldn’t remember the last time his imagination was real enough to provoke him. Knowing that he was already a lost cause, he got up to go to the bathroom. The last thing on his mind was berating himself for having crossed a line that would now lead to more.

CHAPTER THREE

#the godfather #al pacino #michael corleone #michael corleone x oc #michael corleone au #michael corleone x reader #the godfather au #michael corleone fanfic #fanfic #ao3 #chicoca

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onmysluttyknees · 5 months

Text

Can’t Get Over You

Pairing: Peña x reader.

Rating: E 18+ (minors dni). This is for mature audience only! By continuing reading you agree that you are over 18.

Words: about 7k.

—

“Can we please not do this now? I need to go,” he says, looking at me. The mask of indifference is back in place as he pulls his jeans back on. I thought we had moved past this. But apparently not. What I want and what he expects are not the same.

”I just want to know what I am to you!” I raise my voice louder than I intend to, but it’s so damn frustrating. He wants me, but he doesn’t want to commit to me.

“Don’t do this now; I’m running late.” He huffs, and he pulls his clothes back on. I feel so used. He wants a warm body to fuck when he feels like it. And I want more. I can’t do this anymore.

“You know what, PeÃ±a? Let’s not do this ever again. I’m done. I can’t do this anymore.” I sigh, get out of bed, and start pulling my clothes on. I keep my body away from him as I do so. If I look at him, I’ll give in, like I always do.

“I thought we were on the same page about what this was, were we not?” He asks, and I hear him moving closer to me, but I don’t turn around.

“And I thought that I meant more to you than just a good fuck whenever you’re in the mood. But I suppose we both were wrong.” I walk into the bathroom and slam the door behind me, locking it to keep him out. I want so much more than what he’s willing to give me. I get that he has a lot on his plate. After coming back from Columbia and taking on the job as the sheriff in Laredo, a lot of people expect him to clean up the town and get the drugs out of here. But when he came back alive, all I could think was that maybe this was our chance at a second chance together.

We had been together when we were younger, before he left for Colombia, and I understood that when he left, what we had was over. I wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him while he went down there, since neither of us knew when he would be back.

But that didn’t stop me from hoping and wishing that he would come back one day, and maybe we could pick up where we left off. How silly of me to think that what we once had meant more to him than what it does now. I was still just a warm body for him to sink his cock into whenever he needed to blow off some steam. And frankly, I’m over it.

A soft knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts.

“Nenita, please don’t be like this. What we have is good, right? Why do we need to make it into something it isn’t?” His voice is like butter on toast. It’s hard to resist him when he’s like that, but I deserve more. I want more from him, but if he isn't willing to give it to me, then I can’t give him more from me. I need to protect myself before I give him more than I already have.

“Just go, Peña; I can’t do this anymore. Please just go.” My voice breaks at the end. I try my best to keep myself together. He can’t see me when he’s on the other side of the door, but I know he can hear me.

“I’m sorry, nenita." That’s the last thing I hear from him before I hear the front door open and then close. He’s gone. Again. Only this time, I will still see him around town. Fuck!

4 months later.

With a glass of rosé wine in my left hand and the music playing loudly, I’m looking through my closet, trying to decide what to wear for my date tonight.

I’m not even sure I should go. I’m still not over Javier, but they say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone else. And since nothing else seems to have worked in the past 4 months, why not try going on a date?

Nick is cute; he’s kind, and he’s been asking me out for a date several times over the years. So here I am, getting ready for a date. With Nick.

My hand drifts over a white sundress with sunflowers on it. I used to wear this dress all the time. It was one of my favourites, and sadly, one of Javier’s too.

“I love the way this dress hugs you, ass, and your titts,” he whispered into my ear, his lips gently grazing down my neck.

“Stop it, Javi; we need to go or we’re going to be late for our reservation at ‘Hal’s’.” I tried to wiggle out of his grasp, but not much effort was put into it since I didn’t really want to step away from his warm body. He pressed his front against my back with more force, making it very clear exactly how much he liked the dress. I could feel him through his jeans as his cock pressed against my ass. A soft moan escaped my lips as he pressed himself into me again, harder this time.

“Are you sure you want me to stop querida?” His teeth scraped gently along the shell of my ear, and his hands gripped my hips tighter as he let out a low groan of pleasure as I rubbed my ass against his growing erection once again. “I say we skip dinner and go straight to dessert instead.”

We never made it to the restaurant that night. Now that I think of it, we hardly ever went anywhere; we were always at his place or mine. I didn't mind because I got to have him all to myself without the other women of the town ogling him, but now, in hindsight, it feels like he didn’t want to be seen with me. Not that that mattered; in a small town like Laredo, everybody knows everything anyway. And people knew, just like they knew the moment we stopped seeing each other. In the first month or two, people would stare, and I would hear them whisper about me when they didn’t know I was in the next aisle, or perhaps they knew and wanted me to hear?

It was always the same comment: “Perhaps he got bored of her." “A man like that can’t be tied down; why did she think she would be able to get him to settle down?”. And it hurts. Far more than I care to admit. Because it was all true. In the end, I wasn’t enough for him.

I shake my head as if to try and clear the memory from it. But I’m not an etch-a-sketch, so the image of us in bed that night and all the other times stays burned into my brain as I try my best to get ready for my date with Nick. I down the rest of my wine, and out of spite or defiance, I don’t know, I grab the dress with the sunflowers. It’s just a dress, one of my favorites, so I pull it on. It still fits nicely, though it’s a little looser around my midriff now than it was before, but that is to be expected. I have been exercising more lately and eating better, so I have lost some weight.

Not that I did it because anyone told me that I needed to, but what else was I supposed to do with all my free time when Javier stopped coming around? Correction: When I told him to leave, he actually, for once, listened to me. I had to find something to put all my time and energy into. So I started running. It’s a good distraction. I keep pushing myself further and harder. The burn from running makes the hurt from not being with him a little bit easier to handle. And it usually tires me out pretty good. It keeps me from making dumb decisions like texting him late at night when I’m lonely.

A loud knock on my door startles me just as I put the last touch of lipstick on. I put the cork back on and set down the lipstick, walking over to open the door, putting on a bright smile as I do so.

“Wow, you look beautiful.” Nick looks me up and down before he settles on my face, a big smile on his lips as he hands me a bouquet of flowers. “These are for you.” He says.

“These are beautiful, Nick. Thank you. Let me just put these in water, and then I’m ready to go.” I take the flowers, and he follows me as I walk into the kitchen to find a vase.

After I’ve put the flowers in the water, I look over at Nick to see where he’s standing in the doorway to my kitchen. He cleaned up nice, in a pair of slacks and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. And he trimmed his beard too; usually it’s a bit more wild, but tonight he has it neatly trimmed short. It suits him better. But for some reason, I can’t help but think about how I prefer a defined moustache over a full beard.

“Are you ready to go?” Nick asks, bringing me back to my kitchen and the man standing in front of me. The man that is not him. But that’s the point; Javier didn’t want more, and I do. So I give Nick a soft smile and nod.

The restaurant is nice, although I wish he hadn’t taken me to Hal’s. But the odds of him coming in here tonight are hopefully low.

We order food and drinks, and we talk about everything and nothing. And just as I am starting to relax and enjoy the date, I feel him. I can tell that he is there before I even see him. Out of the corner of my eye, I spot him over at the bar. He just walked in and is ordering a beer. I know he’s already seen me. The way he looks over at us tells me everything I need to know. And he looks pissed.

I try to concentrate on what Nick is telling me, something that happened this week at his work, but honestly, all I can think of is him. Javier is standing less than 10 feet from me over by the bar, but he might as well be standing next to me. The air in the room is electrified, and with every breath I take, I find it more and more difficult to breathe.

“Will you excuse me for just a second?” I get up from my chair and all but run towards the ladies room, not even bothering to think about the fact that I left Nick hanging in the middle of a sentence about whatever he was talking about. I need to get out of the room and away from Javier.

I lock myself into one of the ladies rooms and grip the sink with both hands so tightly that my knuckles turn white with the effort. My breathing is ragged, and I try my best to slow my racing heart. This is not what I had envisioned for my first night out after Javier and I broke up. Well, to be broken up, one would have to have actually been a couple in the first place, which we never were. He didn’t want anything serious, and I was dumb enough to think that if I stayed around long enough, he would change his mind. That he would want me just the same way I wanted him. Sadly, that never happened.

After several minutes of hiding in the bathroom, I pull myself together enough to stand up straight, run my hands down my dress, and look at myself in the mirror.

“You can do this. He is just a man you once knew. You can do this.” I tell myself the same thing over and over as my breathing evens out and my heart slows back down to somewhat normal. With a final, steadfast breath, I unlock the door and walk out, and straight into someone.

“What the...” I stop myself the moment I look up and my eyes meet his. Dark brown eyes I could drown in, if only he’d let me.

“Querida.” His voice is low and strained. He looks me up and down, widening a little when he sees the dress I have on, before he looks me in the eyes.

“You lost the right to call me that, Peña.” I try to sound strong, but my voice is wavering, and I have to look away from his piercing gaze before I do something stupid. Pushing past him to get away from him, just as I’m almost past him, he grabs a hold of my wrist, stopping me in my tracks.

“Please, don’t walk away,” he pleads, his hand still in a firm grip on my wrist.

“I’m not the one who walked away, remember?” I turn around and yank my hand from his. When my eyes meet his, he looks lost, even sad. But I can’t break. Not here, not now. “You’re the one who didn’t want what I had to offer.” The rage bubbles up; after being pushed down for months, it’s finally breaking free. I’m done blaming myself for what happened. He made me believe we could be more. He’s the one who made me feel like what we had was more than just sex, with his sweet touch, filthy words, and the way he would look at me. He’s the one who would hold me tight, night after night, as we fell asleep next to one another after we had our way with each other in bed.

“I...” He takes a step closer, but I back up. I can’t. I won’t survive him one more time.

“You what, Pña? You don’t want me. Not really—not all of me, at least. You only want me when you can’t have me. Or am I wrong? You haven’t called me in months. But tonight, the first night, I’m actually out with someone else. Now you care? Just leave me alone; I can’t do this again with you. I won’t survive it a third time.” It’s like my words burned him. He backs up a few steps. His eyes meet mine. He opens his mouth as if to say something, but then he closes it again. Just like I thought, nothing has changed. He doesn’t want more, or maybe he isn’t capable of more. It’s only sad that it took me so long to figure it out. Having the man I love break my heart not only once, way back when we were kids, but again four months ago. And in a way, now, all over again, tonight hurts more than I care to admit. But I won’t let him do it again. I can't, and I won’t survive it one more time.

Without saying anything else, I turn and walk away. There is nothing more to say. He doesn’t stop me, either. So if that doesn’t tell me exactly everything I need to know, then I don’t know what will.

I walk back to the table where Nick is still sitting. He looks uncomfortable, shifting slightly in his seat, but doesn’t say anything about how long I was gone or that Javier was gone for a part of that time too. He really is a good guy. And for the rest of the date, I try my best to pay attention to what he says and not look over to my left, where I know Javier is sitting still at the bar, nursing beer after beer. I smile and laugh, and I can almost fool myself into believing that this night isn’t that bad.

The date actually turned out pretty well. When we finished eating, Nick drove me back to my apartment, but I didn't invite him in. I need to do this right this time. So instead, I let him kiss me goodnight. I thanked him for a lovely evening, and when he asked me if I would like to go out with him again, I said yes. And I meant it. I did have a good time.

But the moment I’m alone in my apartment, my mind drifts back to the way he looked at me. Javier, not Nick. Not that the way Nick looked at me was bad. Just the way Javier always looks at me is like a sizzling fire that burns underneath my skin. And the only way to quench the flames is when he has his way with me and pulls orgasm after orgasm from me.

But tonight he looked at me like I was something he had lost, and he wanted it, me, back. But he didn’t do anything or say anything. At least nothing that changes what happened between us or how it ended.

That night, I got little to no sleep. I tossed and turned for half of the night, and the other half I dreamed about the one man I can’t have.

3 months later

I keep running into Javier. Almost on a daily basis, I see him across the street or run into him. I can’t get away from him. I can be in the supermarket, and I turn around, and there he is. Or at the gas station, filling up my car, and there he is. Even when Nick and I go out on dates, he is there. Everywhere I turn, he is always there. Not in a stalker way, though. Not like it's that strange; we live in the same town, but still. It’s unnerving. I’m trying to move on from him, but all I see is him everywhere I go.

It’s late, and I’m getting ready for bed when my phone pings with an incoming text message. So I walk out of my bathroom, one towel wrapped around my body and one towel still in my hand as I’m drying my hair after the shower, when I flip my phone on my bed with the other hand, and I freeze mid-motion.

It’s a text from Javier. I sit down on my bed before I open the text and read it.

I stare at the text. Not knowing what to reply or if I even should reply. I’m with Nick now, right?

Just when I’ve almost convinced myself to not reply and ignore the text altogether, the bubble with the three dots appears, and with anxious breath, I wait for his next text. But nothing appears. No more texts come through. And as I stand there with my hair dripping down onto my bed, my phone dies.

Fuck! I was supposed to have plugged it into the charger when I came home from work, but work had been hectic today, so I forgot. I scramble off my bed as quickly as I can, grab my charger from on top of my dresser, plug it into the socket, and then plug the other end into my phone. It feels like it takes forever for my phone to light up. And who knows how long it takes for it to power back on? Without my damn phone, which is also my clock in my bedroom, I don’t know how many minutes tick by before it actually lights up again.

I open up my phone to see if he has sent any more texts, but no. Only the one from before my phone died. What am I supposed to answer? He misses me? Should I even answer? Before I have any time to think more about it, a loud knock startles me. Looking down at my phone to check the time, 11:43, I highly doubt that it is Nick. We didn’t have plans tonight, and he wouldn’t just stop by unannounced like this, at least not this late. Which meansâ€¦

“Querida, please open the door.” He’s speaking louder than normal, but not quite shouting yet. But I still don’t want my neighbors to get mad. Having someone half-yell in your stairwell isn’t most people's idea of fun at almost midnight on a fucking Thursday night. So I stumble my way to the door and yank it open.

Javier is leaning against the doorframe, looking worse for wear but still hot as fuck. No one should be allowed to look that good when he looks so disheveled and his hair is a mess. Like he has been dragging his fingers through it over and over for hours. His shirt is wrinkled, and his jeans are dirty.

“Javi, you can’t come here like this anymore.” I don’t even realize I used his nickname until he looks up at me with those big brown, sad eyes.

“You called me Javi.” A soft smile spreads across his lips, and that damn dimple appears on his left cheek. He knows how much I love that damn dimple.

“Slip of the tongue, what are you doing here?” I try to redirect the conversation, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to know what he’s doing here. He texted me not that long ago, and now he’s here, at my door, in the middle of the night.

“I’d like to give you my slip of the tongue.” He says it under his breath, with a smirk playing on his lips. He knows I heard him. It’s too quiet around us for me not to have heard him. And his words do things to me. I press my legs together in an attempt to ease the throbbing that's begun to grow. He always had a way with words. He could probably get me off with his words alone. But I can’t let my mind wander too far down the rabbit hole. I need to know why he is here. I don’t say anything about his comment.

I don’t know if I should invite him in or ask him to leave. But I do know that I don’t want to have this conversation in my doorway for any of my neighbours to hear or walk into. So I open the door a little bit more and let him in. He walks past me and straight into my kitchen, where he comes to a stop and casually leans against the kitchen island.

“It’s late; what are you doing here?” I ask again, trying to put some power behind my words.

“Nick isn’t here, I suppose, since you let me in.” He drawls, still with that dimple on his cheek, begging me to touch it, kiss it, and lick it.

“Is that what you came here to talk about, my boyfriend?” I ask, letting a strained laugh out. This is so surreal. My somewhat ex and I are talking about the man I’m currently dating.

“Does he make you happy?”

“What?” I stare at him. I'm wondering where he’s going with this.

“Does. He. Make. You. Happy?” He punctuates each word while simultaneously taking a step towards me with each word. I look around my kitchen, trying to find the words, and maybe even something to look at other than him. His eyes are on fire, and they are burning me with every lingering look. With every caress as he sweeps his eyes over my body, I just realize I’m still in nothing but my towel, and my hair is still damp as water trickles down my back.

“I...he...” I can’t get the words or sentences to form in my mind, let alone get them out of my mouth, when he’s looking at me like that. I am his prey, and he is the hunter. With a final step towards me, he has me between him and the kitchen counter. His hands land on either side of me, effectively caging me in. All I can see is him. All I can smell is him. All I can feel is the heat coming off his body, but that doesn’t stop my skin from breaking out in goosebumps all over. But I doubt it’s because I’m cold. Quite the opposite. I’m burning up, and all I want to do is lean a little bit, close the distance between us, and lock my lips around his.

“I know I said I couldn't give you more. But the thought of not having you at all is killing me. I can’t think, I can’t sleep, and I can’t breathe when I’m not with you. And every time I see you around town, all I want is to walk up to you and kiss you. I feel like you are the reason I made it back from Colombia in one piece, and I will die unless I get to spend the rest of my life with you. I want you. Please tell me it’s not too late.”

“Javi...” I’m stunned. I never expected to get as much from him in words as I just did. I try to think of that to answer him, but no words will come out.

"Words, querida, use your words. I asked you a question.”

“What...what question?” I ask, shaking my head. My mind is a mess from what he just said. He wants me? Why now? What changed?

“Does he make you happy?” His hand softly pushes my damp locks back behind my ear; his fingers move to gently caress my cheek; and I instinctively lean into his touch.

“Not like you do. No one can compare to you.” I confess. There’s no point in lying anymore, to myself or to him. He’s here for a reason. He’s told me as much. He wants me back.

“Please give me one more chance. I'm yours; say you’ll be mine.” His eyes search mine as his hand travels from my cheek down my neck. He can feel my pulse beat rapidly beneath his thumb, where his hand is now on my neck.

Without thinking, I reach up on my tippy toes and kiss him. I shouldn’t be doing this. I know I shouldn't. It’s wrong for so many reasons, but I can’t seem to stop myself. My hands move on their own accord and drape around his neck, pulling him closer to me.

His hands find their way around my waist and pull me in closer. The kiss grows heated, and he drags his tongue along the seam of my lips, asking for entry. I grant it, opening up and letting my tongue slide along his in a battle for dominance. His hands drift lower until they reach the bottom of the towel and slide in under it. Grazing the back of my thighs and up my bare ass.

“Mierda, you’re fucking naked under here?” He asks, his voice strained, before he grabs a firm hold of my ass. He lifts me up and sets me down on the kitchen counter, and in doing so, the towel comes loose, falls down, and pools around my waist. Leaving my breasts on full display. He breaks the kiss to look down at my exposed body. “Fuck querida, you’ll be the death of me.” He growls, unable to stop himself. He leans down and takes one perked nipple into his mouth and sucks on it. Dragging his teeth over it, one hand finds the other and plays with it between his forefinger and thumb, pulling a breathy moan from my lips.

My own moan startles me from what we're doing, and I put my hands up against his chest and push him away. Even though all I want is to pull him closer.

“We can’t, not like this.” I quickly grip the towel and pull it up over my body again as I jump down from the counter.

“You’re right.” He takes a step back but then changes his mind and grabs the back of my head as he pulls me in for another soul-searing kiss. When he finally breaks the kiss, he looks at me dead in the eye with his hand still on the back of my head, not allowing me to look away. “Tell me you’re mine. Tell me you’re mine, and I’ll wait. I’ll give you anything you want; be anything you want; just tell me you’ll be mine.” His chest heaves, and he breathes heavily.

I stare back at him. He’s finally saying all the right things. The only problem is that I have a boyfriend.

“I need to talk to Nick first.” I answer. “But, yes, Javi, I’m yours. I’ve always been yours. Give me a few days to sort through this, and I’ll call you, okay?” I don’t even know how to sort through this mess without someone getting hurt. Sadly, that seems to be Nick in this equation. But I can’t do anything more with Javi until I’ve ended things with Nick; I shouldn’t even have kissed him. We can’t start this time around with something like that. We need to make this right.

“I get it, but can I come over once it’s over with you and Nick?” He looks hopeful; his hand finds mine, and he interlocks our fingers and lifts my hand up to his mouth, where he lays featherlight kisses on each and every knuckle on my hand.

“I’ll call you. But I need you to go now before we do something really stupid. Like let you bend me over the couch and rail me while I still have a boyfriend.” I give him a soft smile while I gently push him towards the door.

He reaches for the door but turns around at the last second, grabs me by the waist, and pins me to the door. “I do, however, want to do that at a later time. But promise me you’ll call me after.” He leans in and plants soft kisses along the colom of my throat. My knees feel like jelly, and if he hadn’t been holding me up, I would have fallen to the floor.

“Yes, I promise.” I let out a breathy moan. “Now, go, baby; for mine and your sanity, go.” I beg.

“Good night, querida.” He gives me one of his devilish, lopsided smiles.

He moves me to the side, then steps away from me so he can open the door and let himself out. But before he’s out of sight, I notice his hand reaching down to readjust himself in those sexy, tight jeans of his. I can’t help but let the smirk on my lips grow as I think that he is as fucked for me as I am for him. Now I just have to break someone's heart before we can be together for real. And that’s not really something I’m looking forward to. But before I go to bed, I take another shower to cool off.

The next day I call Nick after work; I want to get this over with as soon as possible. There is no need to drag out the inevitable. I asked him to come meet me at a café near North Central Park. He had first asked me to come over to his place, but I thought it would be best to do this in public. If he got upset and wanted to leave, he could.

With my tea in my hand, I sit at the table, waiting anxiously for Nick to arrive. I have no idea how I’m going to break it to him, so I suppose I’ll just rip the bandage off the moment he sits down.

I see him coming down the sidewalk; he looks anxious too. He probably heard it in my voice when I called earlier. Nothing good ever comes after the dreaded line “can we talk” which is exactly the one I used earlier when I called him.

“Hey.” He leans in to kiss me, but at the last moment, I turn my head, and his kiss lads on my cheek. My pulse is racing, and my hands are clammy. I grip my mug tighter in an attempt to ground myself. “Everything okay?” He asks.

“I...” I begin, but I can’t seem to get the words out. Fuck, this is so hard! So I just open my mouth and hope I find the right words. “It was never my intention to hurt you, Nick. Please, you have to understand, and to be honest, I never expected Javi to...well, change.” I’m rambling, and when I look at Nick, he looks almost happy? Is he smiling at me?

“I understand. I mean, how can I compete with that guy? You love him.” I’m at a loss for words. Did he just tell me he understands?

“Say what now?” I ask. I must have misheard him. I stare at him with a dumbfounded look on my face, trying to figure out what’s happening.

“Everyone here in Laredo knows about your story. Kind of like star-crossed lovers, always out of reach of one another. And to be frank, I think the whole town has been waiting and hoping for him to get his shit together and realise it's you that he wants. That it’s you he needs. And judging from the conversation you wanted to have with me today, I can assume that he finally came to his senses?”

“He...yeah, you could say that.” I let out a small laugh. The absurdity of how quickly this conversation unfolded is beyond me. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.

“And you want him.” He asks. It’s not really a question, more of a statement.

“Yes, I’m so sorry, Nick. This is not what I had planned at all. You have to believe me that I never thought that he would change. It’s not like we haven’t tried before. But I don’t know; something is different this time. He’s different.” I reach out across the table and grab his hand in mine. “Please forgive me.”

“I know you didn’t mean for it to happen this way. And honestly, I’m happy for you. If you’re happy, then that’s all I want for you.” He says and squeezes my hand once before letting my hand go.

I don’t know how he’s taking this so calmly, but I appreciate it nonetheless. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What?” I ask.

“Don’t let him take you for granted this time. You deserve the best, and I hope he realises that.”

“I won’t, and thank you, Nick, truly. I hope you find someone who will care for you the way you deserve.”

He stands up and gives me a gentle smile.

“Thanks; I guess I’ll see you around town then.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you around.” I reply. And with that, he walks away. I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding in. This went way better than I expected.

After Nick leaves, I jump into an Uber and tell him where to drive. I have someone I need to go see. My whole body is buzzing with excitement as the car takes me across town and out to the countryside. When the car stops in front of the house, I get out on shaky legs. What if last night was just a dream, and this is all in my head? Or what if he changed his mind? Maybe he just wanted me when I wasn’t his to have? I don’t have to think about it long, though. The door swings open, and out steps Javi. My Javi, or at least, I hope he’ll be mine.

“You’re here. Does that mean...?" He doesn’t finish his question. Instead, he looks at me intensely, his eyes roaming all over my body before landing on my face. Like he’s searching for something and hopes he’ll find the answer in my eyes.

“I’m yours.” That is all I say. And before I know it, he closes the distance between us and pulls me into his arms.

“Mine.” He breathes as he squeezes me tighter to him. Hands drift down my back and land on my ass, lifting me up. I wrap my legs around his waist, and he all but runs back into the house with me in his arms. Pushing the door open and then kicking it closed behind us, his lips find mine, and he claims my mouth with his. Never once does he let go of our connection as he walks me into his bedroom with me still in his arms. Walking up to the bed, he stops by and lowers me down on top of it softly.

He climbs into bed on top of me. I scoot back further into the middle of the bed, and he follows. Deft fingers start to unbutton my jeans and then pull down the zipper. Leading in, he lifts my shirt up and kisses my exposed skin before he grabs the hem of my top and pulls it up and over my head, discarding it somewhere behind him on the floor. Sneaking one hand around my back, he unclasps my bra and flings it over his shoulder. Next, he grips my jeans and panties off in one swift movement and tosses them to the floor as well.

A deep goran vibrates from his chest as his eyes drink me in; now I’m naked in front of him, in his bed.

“Fuck baby, I can’t believe I almost lost you. I’m never letting you go again.” He says it so low, I almost don’t hear him. But I do, and my throat feels thick with emotions. He never used to be like this before.

“Say it,” I plead. I know he feels it; I need him to say it. “Say it, and I’ll be yours forever.” He knows what I mean. The thing I so desperately wanted him to say 7 months ago. But something I think maybe he didn’t know he truly felt until after he saw me moving on. Or attempting to move on. How can one truly move on if one never lets go of the one they really want?

His hands roam all over my body, moulding me like clay. Claiming me as his. He bends down, locks his lips around mine, and kisses me like his life depends on it. Like only my breath can save him from certain death. Tongues, teeth, and breath mix, and when his hand slips in between my thighs, I can’t help but arch into his touch, and the moan that tears itself from my throat sounds borderline feral when one finger slides in between my slit.

“I love you.” He kisses me again, stealing my breath, when he eases one finger into me. “Fuck querida, you’re so wet. Is this all for me?” He asks as he slowly pumps his finger in and out of me at a leisurely pace.

“Oh God! Yes!” I pant. His movements stop.

"No, my love, not God, Javi, I want you to scream my name. I’m the one who makes you feel this good. It should be my name that comes from your lips when you cum. Now, be a good girl and cum for me.” He picks up his pace, adding another finger. My mouth falls open, and moan after moan pours out of me as he keeps hitting that spot inside that I can’t seem to reach myself most of the time unless I use a toy. And even then, it’s not as good as when he pushes his thick fingers inside me.

The waves of pleasure build quickly, and I can feel it coming. I won’t be able to keep it down for long. He knows my body better than I do. Angling his hand just a little and pushing deep inside again and again when his other hand reaches up to punch my nipple sends me over the edge, and I crash into the waves of the oncoming orgasm.

I scream out his name as my walls pulsate around him, but he doesn’t let up. He lets me ride out my orgasm, still pumping his big fingers in and out of me just so until I finally come down from the high.

I open my eyes to find him looking right at me with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen on his lips.

“I love it when you scream for me, baby. Now, let’s see how many times we can make you cum before you beg me to stop. I have some time to make up for, don’t I?” He bends down before I even have a chance to respond. He licks me from the top of the slit all the way down to my entrance. Making me arch my back off the bed.

“Oh, fuck. Javi.” I breathe out. His tongue circles back up and flicks my clit, making me jerk in reaction.

“Say it.” He demands. Before he seals his lips around my clit and sucks. Stealing the breath from my lungs. My hands find their way into his hair, a firm grasp on his locks. I grind myself into his mouth as his fingers pick up speed again. Lifting his head back up, his fingers pull out.

I whine in protest. “What are you doing?” I question.

“Say it, say it, and I’m yours. I’ll give you anything you want.” He begs. Javi is not a man who begs. But he’s begging me. I know what he wants. He said it, and now he wants me to say it. How can I resist this man? All I’ve ever wanted was him, so I give him what he wants.

“I love you.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of hearing you say that, querida. I love you so fucking much.” He replies, then bends his head back down, circling and licking at my clit while he pushes his fingers back inside.

He quickly works me up to another orgasm, and when I come back down again, he moves up on top of me, his moustache glistening with my arousal.

He moves to get up and stands next to the bed as he quickly sheds his cloths, dropping them on the floor where he stands. Before he crawls on top of me again, this time completely naked, his cock nudges against my hip.

“Kiss me, then fuck me, Javi.” My arms wrap around his neck, my legs wrap around his waist, and the heels of my feet push him closer to me.

“For you, my love, I’ll do anything.” And he does. He kisses hard and fast, then slow and soft. Then he lines himself up with my entrance and pushes inside, and I’ve never felt so goddamn good as I do in that moment. I’m right where I’m meant to be. With him.

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can-ya-guess-my-curent-obsession · 2 years

Note

Hey again 😼 maybe another idea for you? Maybe Gorillaz members w a trans ftm s/o who’s insecure about being trans; like they don’t like that they still have feminine bits ig lol

Hope you’re having a slaytastic day

-🍜

FTM S/O dealing with dysphoria from their appearance

WRITERS NOTES: Hey great to hear from ya again 🍜Anon. And Y E S i love this idea, i think your talking about body baised gender dysphoria, which i can relate to hugely- that shit sucks ass. I think I got outa had with Murdoc's hc, and I had more ideas for some then others. And with that I hope you slaytastic day yourself. And honestly no to sure how I would go about writing this, so if this isn't exactly what you wanted sorry. And sorry if they aren't as long as usual, but like I said I lacked Ideas for this sadly

[ANOTHER NOTE: eh... sorry this took awhile I won't be posting at my previous pase due to the fact a lot of life stuff has been happening recently, and I just don't have as much time as I would like, though I hopefully won't be this slow at writing but just working at a more comfortable pase.]

Edited: fuck no

All art in this post is mine

TW:Curssing, gender dysphoria, transphobia, Implied drug uses, Murdoc being drunk, T, Murdocs dad, Murdocs childhood, ahhh- theres probably more but I can't think of it- so tell me if ya think of anything

Characters:

/Gorillaz/

What?

What do you mean you don't like you body?

What is there to not like?

Huh- specific parts you say?

He still doesn't understand- I mean he understands that the fact that you are trans which means your body is not exactly your favorite part of yourself due to the lack of matching you identified gender but he does not understand the depth of upset-ness his boyfriend feels- but like I said he tries his best

So S/O would have to try and explain it 2D

And in the end 2D does understand more but he still doesn't fully grasp everything so 2D turns to google for answers

When 2D woke up at night again from his migraines and couldn't go back to sleep he decides this is the best time to do his research... at 2:00 AM, so 2D goes on insomnia fulled google spree

And my dear fucking lord satan does he go down a rabbit hole

2D can hardly process half the shit he reads

And by the end of it his head is spinning and he's so fucking exhausted

But at least he grasped some stuff and understands even more now, and he knows what he should do!

But first he needs a little nap he earned it

When he wakes up the the first thing he can remember it binders- so his scowers the internet and orders everyone he sees- good and bad quality, I mean its not like 2D's reading the reviews he's just ordering ever single one he stumbles upon

Then he goes to the store and buys even more

It's moments like this he's glad he remembers he's got a shit ton of money

And one day when S/O comes over to vist 2D- 2D tells his boyfriend to stand there for a second

"Hun- do'ya mind stand'en dere fer sec"

He giggles to himself as he runs in the other room, leaving S/O concerned and confused

Next thing you know- your on the floor after what feels like who knows how many binders have been flug/dumped on you

It takes a silent minute for 2D to process that you may be stuck

In which 2D freaks and digs S/O and explains to him that he was trying to my S/O feel better- which touched S/O that 2D cared this much about him

And then S/O had to explain that he didn't need this many binders

So the two of you spent the next two hours picking out what binders work best

S/O was modeling each one- and figured out which one fit best(because 2D didn't really check sizes either), and were as comfortable as possible

And the whole time 2D was praiseing and tell S/O he looked amazing

After S/O picked thw ones he liked, both decided to donate the remaining binders

Its was really sweet of of him

But either way 2D will in any way possible try and make S/O feel better about himself

2D is just as physically affectionate with his S/O in this as as he would be in any other

Though he can get a bit anxious about touching S/O since his dysphoria was body baised- and was scared of triggering a bad reaction

2D has a big thing for words of affirmation, but due to S/O's body baised gender dysphoria- he tends to praise his boyfriends body spisificly, and it's very obvious what he's trying to do when he says it

"Ya' know I' didn't tink I could be attracted to someones frame... iz... broad.... and manly..."

"Your face is soooo handsome-- oh!.... an' guy-ish..."

It's not like he's lieing he's just kinda shit at subtly tell his boyfriend about it

Either way- while he can be a bit ignorant at first he tried his damn best

"Why trans people need'a binder? Are they going to school?"

*S/O facepalming*

Murdoc

Ok before we can start we need talk about transgender stuff in general and Murdoc did that make sense?

In the 2D x Male S/O x Murdoc, 2D x Male S/O, and Murdoc x Male S/O I had briefly mentioned Murdocs dad being homophobic- well that doesn't even scratch the surface of Sebastian's asshole-lery

Sebastian was a dick queer/LGBTQIA+ people, not like "FUCK THE GAYS- THEIR DELUSIONAL" more like "I talk a bit of shit about queer people behind peoples back, don't be like them son" -ish way

In which he instilled those trashy views on Murdoc as a kid, as when I said 'talk shit behind people I meant he "talked" about it to Hannibal and Murdoc, and randos he hung out with at the bar(I might do a separate thing in the future on how I think murdocs childhood went down, and what kind of person Sebastion was, cuz theres A LOT I could say)

And due to his fathers ways being imprinted in his head as a kid, Kid/Teen Mudz was not exactly found of queer/LGBTQIA+ people in general either

Well it's not like society liked them at that time either: Murdocs year of birth 1966, The year Britain legalized gay marriage 2014

So at that time no one was exactly fond of them

But either way Kid/Teen Murdoc fond of them either

And because of his wasn't fond of them- Murdoc Bullied/teased any one of the queer/LGBTQIA+ community... like a lot... yeah lets just say his sense of humor wasn't exactly nice..

These actions and old views still haunt him to this day

Russel's the only one who knows the full extent of his behavior as a kid because while drunk Murdoc confessed this to him, and 2D over heard a bit- but was swiftly bunbarded by Murdoc once he noticed 2D, Mudz begged them to not tell Noodle

And most of this shit is internalized so if you can't rip open Mudz chest with your love and affection- then good luck getting a straight answer from him

This guilt didn't bother him as much in earlier phases(before plastuc beach).... though thats not saying much

But when the later phases arrived he started drinking tiny bit less, which made memories resurface.... and my god he felt guilty

Ok Fuck- on to the actual hc now...

Wether its phase 1 or phase 7, Murdocs anxious as hell around his S/O, because of the fact they are trans- and this is true before they even started dating- if learned that info before dating

I mean it's nothing to do with his S/O and the fact he's trans- in the sence of his S/O's physically body he does not care you bits you have man- he can work with either...

But... he can't stop thinking about the way he treat trans people in the past- he feels soooo guilty(which he should, he acted like a dickwad)

And what worries Murdoc the most is... he's scared his new boyfriend that accepted him for his flaws and failures, and never looked at him like was worthless.... was gonna leave him because of how he acted when he was ignorant and young

One day when he's drinking alone in the Winnebago he's hit with a overwhelmed wave of guilt, that almost felt suffocating

*BUZZ*

*Phone call from ❤️Mudzy❤️*

You pick up the phone

All you hear is Murdocs indisputable sobs of apologies- while simultaneously saying something about his dad, Trans, he was young and dumb- wait did he say something about you breaking up with him?!? What the hell is he on about?

It was obvious to you he was absolutely fucked up... like even worse the usual?

You told him to sit tight and you'll be there as fast as he can

You arive and he is absolutely fucking all over the place

The Winnebago is more trashed then then usual and he's in the center of it alllll messed up

H looks like he wants to hug you but he pulls back like if he did you would hate him

To sum it up- you two spent the next 3 hours talking about his past and how you still love him, and he could not control how he was raised

Holy fuck uhhh nevermind... NOW on to the ACTUAL hc :b

He has a hard time understanding your insecurities about you body but he tries- he just thinks you too hot

So you have to like sit him down and try and make him understand- cuz otherwise he clueless- which would make worry cuz he doesn't like not knowing whats going on

So google this shit he will

Google leeds him to some interesting things... like he learns about T(testosterone hormones for transitioning)

And after siting on the idea for a bit, when he got drunk Murdy kept trying to order T, but he couldn't cuz you need a note from a doctor/therapist/psychologist to get that shit

And you found him throwing a tantrum- screaming at his computer. Fun fact this happens pretty often, because he's really bad with computers...well except for when it come to the sketchy part of the internet, Mudz knows a lot about that stuff. I swear he's on a FBI watch list

When S/O asks whats wrong murdoc spouts on about how he FUCKING can't get T for his wonderful boyfriend- *sniff* to make him feel better- *sob* make him feel better

Yes Murdoc starts to have another drunken break down

And again you have to sit him down and explain the complex process of getting stuff like that

"Well thats stupid... I've always been able to get prescription drugs without a a prescription- I used to know a guy actually, you could get anything for the right price-..." Murdoc mumbled to himself

"What-"

"Nothing..."

But in then he understands a little more, and this time please explain what he can do to make you feel better about your dysphoria, cuz he will continue to do weird shit

Murdoc's no Shakespeare, he isn't great with words or with expressing shutters feeling, so he isn't the best at comforting but he tries his best

But something nice is, when Murdoc gets really high or reallyyyyyyy drunk he tends to be more touchy and more truthful, so he'll just randomly start praising S/O, even if its a the worst time- Like:

"...S/O"

"Yeah?"

"...dove- your the most beautiful, handsome, and stunning thing ever... no one can say otherwise- your perfect from head to toe...."

"Thats nice and all but hun this really ain't the time..."

*Murdoc looks at S/O very confused then looks at the toilet he just was hurling his guts up into*

But don't worry he doesn't always dish out his best compliments in the loo

At the end of the day Murdoc really love his boyfriend no matter what they look like.

"....I Love you..."

"Huh?"

"NOTHING!"

Noodle

Probably understands the most out of the 4

Noodle is the youngest meaning- she's 'more with the times' I fucking cringed so hard writing that for some reason-

She will try to distract you in any way to get her boyfriend to feel better, and stop thinking about it

Noodle doesn't exactly a big fan of talking that much if she doesn't find the conversation meaningful, but if needed she will spend as long as her S/O needs siting there tell him how much she loves him- and his body doesn't make him any less of a man

"Don't let anyone else tell you- who you are, ok?"

"I don't know about what you think, but what I do know is that your my lovely boyfriend!"

Noodle LOVES clothes shopping- scratch that just shopping in general

So she loves takeing her S/O to shops that can get that clothing that can make him feel more comfortable in his body

She does a bit of googleing but not like a deep dive as the guys

Noodle will round house kick anyone who dares to be transphobic to S/O

Along with Noodle screaming every curse word she knows at them in every language she know

No one fucks with Noodle's boyfriend- or I swear to satan when Noodles done with that knob- they won't even be able to look you in the eyes in fear of evoking Noodles rage once more

If Noods notices her boyfriend going through a bout of of depression due to his body based gender dysphoria(fucking hell- I'm tired of typing this out if I will now refur to that as BBGD) and she will decide to plan a date for her and S/O

She does this often- but the kind of date varies based on S/O's preference

When Nood complements S/O and his body she's very blunt, abd it's very obvious what she's doing- and knows that just doesn't give a shit

"Did I ever tell you how handsome you are?"

I can't think of any more quotes sorry

She makes sure everyone gets S/O pro-nouns right, incase that makes S/O more inscure she back handed murdoc once become he misgender S/O once- on accident and 2D told you she lecturerd him later when you left, whether it was an accident or not he never did it again and Mudz shutters at the memory-

If S/O has a melt down/panic attack due to BBGD if S/O is ok with it, Noodle will hold him and juat let him get it all out, till he's ready to talk, and if S/O just wants to sit there then thats fine to

She once teasingly called you baby boy, take that for what you will

"THE FUCK DID YOU SAY TO MY BOYFRIEND!!!"

"Noodle- please calm down-!"

Russel

Ok... he's probably the second best at understanding your sercumstance

But that does not make it any less awkward

Russel isn't exactly a conventionalist but he tries to priase/give words of affection/affirmation to his S/O to make him feel better

I wanna say S/O is the first transgender person Rus has dated- but thats not saying much as Russel was never that big in the dating world, so his knowledge on dating in general is not that vast

So like the other guy's he does research-

And was very thorough, and comes out pretty successful in his endeavor

And before Rus decides to make and drastic decisions like a shopping spree or or almost buying T *cough* 2D *cough* Murdoc

He communicates with his S/O about what they want

And the root of his insecurities, as Rus wan't S/O to know that your body does not define you and just a bunch of really sappy love crap

"Honey, your body is not what makes you- you, it's whats on the inside, you get what I mean?"

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, it's natural to feel this way, in this kind of situation."

"I would love no matter how you looked"

And then after talking about how S/O feels on this situation

Rus then will get really serious and ask S/O if he wan't to get medical procedures done and if he did Rus would him pay for the surgerys and crap

Or he may suggest seeking professional help with you BBGD

But if S/O says no- Rus is completely fine with that he just wants his S/O to know that he loves him

If S/O is going through a especially bad bout of dysphoria, Russel will make him their favorite comfort food

Like Rus isn't great with words and depending on where you are in the relationship physically affection can be a bit stiff with him- But one thing is he's a Great Fucking Cook

Ask for any comfort food it's yours

He's a big thing for acts of service- like Noodle oftenvdoes things to distract S/O from his unpleasant feelings

Russel's a big boi with major RBF so when he's around there is less likely someones gonna say/talk transphoic shit to/about S/O

And if they do... well I hope they like confrontation, becuase Rus will not yell at them but, his words will make just about anyone shit their pants

Like 2D, Rus complements S/O that could makes S/O feel better about his BBGD- but un-like 2D he's really good at being subtle about it.

"I made you your favorite, *insert fav food*."

#2d x reader #gorillaz x reader #stuart pot x reader #noodle x reader #russel hobbs x reader #russel x reader #murdoc x reader #ftm reader #murdoc niccals #2d gorillaz #noodle gorillaz #russel hobbs #stuart pot

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aurora567 · 7 months

Text

Little Mouse Ch. 14

Warnings this fic will contain mature themes. Such as but not limited to teasing, kidnapping, Stockholm syndrome, very unhealthy relationships, some elements of non-con/rape, threesomes, drug use, breath play, voyeurism, branding, sex.

Word count: 5780

Last Chapter Next Chapter

The single word reply had been surprising, as were the strings that had come with it. Though Rin should have expected that. After all, she should have known Shigaraki would never have let her leave on her own. But to find herself walking the empty streets with the pale haired man beside her was not expected. He was in a deep blue hoodie with the hood pulled up and into his face keeping him rather well hidden. She didn’t feel as much need to hide herself. After all it seemed clear when All Might had crashed the bar she was unknown. They didn’t seem to have any idea who she was which seemed stupid on their part. It still pissed her off and made her blood boil that no one noticed she was gone. She was once a pro hero’s sidekick, saw tragedy, and then turned to the medical field. Sure she had never made any big name for herself or worked with anyone who was a big name but still to think her work didn’t even realize she was missing. It was enough to do more than irritate her. In one sense it was devastating, in another it made her angry. She was just tossed aside as if no one cared.

Was this what the league had experienced? Was this their shared ground? And the reason Shigaraki had been so interested in her? Thinking she was a similar soul? She wasn’t sure but she couldn’t deny her vision of heroes was quickly changing. And she wasn’t sure how she felt about that.

“I am curious. Why did you decide to come with me? You could have sent anyone to babysit me,” she asked softly, ensuring if anyone was close they hopefully wouldn’t be able to make out her soft voice. But the man walking beside her was quick to glance over at her as she spoke up. She expected him to tell her to shut up or just refuse to answer so when he did she was a bit surprised.

“I simply wanted out of that damn hideout,” well it was a simple enough reason. And who was she to question it. After all, he actually answered her instead of getting upset with her. She softly nodded her head at the answer and let it go as she watched his left hand raise up and softly scratch at his neck a little.

With that she let the conversation drop once more allowing the two of them to walk the streets silently and move around without drawing any real attention to themselves. Which was the main idea after all it wouldn’t be good if someone recognized at least Shigaraki. If hero’s showed up and started a fight in the middle of the street it would be devastating for all the bystanders in the area. After all Shigaraki’s disintegration quirk was not one to take lightly. He could do a lot of damage to people around him who are innocent civilians before he could be caught. That is if he was even caught. Rin imagined that Kurogiri was a simple speed dial away and a portal would open in a heartbeat whisking the villain away.

Rin also took this chance to take in her surroundings. The streets were not ones she knew. And sadly she had no idea where within Japan they even were. She had no way of currently knowing that she was somewhere within Musutafu. The area was foreign to her. Which forced her to trust that Shigaraki knew where he was going to take her to her destinations. She needed to find a pharmacy, that would be the embarrassing purchase. Nothing like buying birth control with a rather socially awkward man. Then she was hungry. Some actual food would be heaven after the string of convenient store junk they had been living off of for who knows how long. Has it been two weeks or three? Maybe it had only been a single week? Rin was losing sense of her days. She was just happy that Shigaraki had not taken her wallet. He had left her with the cash she had in it. Not a lot but enough she could buy what she needed at least. She may not have anything left but oh well.

With that thought she spotted a small little pharmacy come into view down the road. Silently she turned her attention to the door and made her way towards it with the pale tall shadow behind her softly scratching at his neck as he entered the building right behind her.

“What are we doing here?” He asked under his breath as he stuck rather close to her, much closer than she would have liked.

“I need a few things. Some basic first aid supplies would be helpful. I can’t do my job well if I don’t have the proper items,” she said, trying to make it sound as gamer lingo as she could but it was a bit tricky. With that she grabbed herself some basic painkillers, bandages and disinfectant. Though the painkillers were more so for herself. She could be rather sore some days after Dabi was done with her. Though she still had not had a chance to make her way to the back and ask for her prescription yet. That was going to be the worst part as she couldn’t think of a way to get the man to back off a little. She was just going to have to bite the bullet and do it.

Without looking back at Shigaraki she made her way towards the back of the little store just expecting the man was tailing her as he had been since they walked through a portal saving them some walking and keeping the warehouse's exact location a secret. But for now Rin just tried her hardest to ignore her unwanted shadow as she walked up to the pharmacist and flashed the man a soft smile.

“Hello. I need to refill a birth control prescription. The name is Rin Nakano,” she said as she smiled softly. She had to try not to tense up at the intense feeling of Shigaraki’s eyes boring into the back of her head. She could almost feel the threatening glare she was receiving. She just had to hope the man didn’t try and kill her or the poor pharmacist.

“Okay it will be just a moment,” the pharmacist said to which she mumbled a soft thanks and moved to walk back towards Shigaraki who was standing a bit like a creep with his hand in his hoodie pocket, hood pulled up and those red eyes glaring hard at her.

“Yeah yeah chew my head off once we are outside,” she hissed at him under her breath not wanting to listen to Shigaraki at that exact moment nor did she want the pharmacist to think something was up if Shigaraki got mad and throw a child like tantrum in the building. Though he still gave her a growl.

“Don’t give me orders,” he hissed at her as a hand moved up to scratch at his neck.

“Yeah well if you draw too much attention to us that will cause problems. We are missing important party members if you're going to start a battle,” she said softly trying to reason with the man the best she could though she could tell he was still incredibly uneasy and upset. But at least it settled the man down enough that he no longer looked like he was going to disintegrate the shelf barrier between him and the poor pharmacist who did not know how close to death he truly was.

With her name being called she forced a small smiled walked over, thanks the man before grabbing her prescription and turning to grab the sleeve of Shigaraki’s hoodie trying to drag him along with her as she headed to the till wanting to pay for her things and get the hell out of the building before Shigaraki started anything. Damn it he was supposed to be watching her but it felt the other way around she was having to watch and keep him in line instead. Though why did she? She could just let Shigaraki throw a child-like tantrum, draw in some heroes and get himself arrested and she could cry innocent bystander. Ha that wouldn’t work, if anything happened to Shiggy then Kurogiri would have her ass as well as the rest of the league. And Shigaraki was smart enough to know when to call for help and a single phone call is all that’s needed for a portal to open and for all hell to break loose as help would arrive to aid Shigaraki.

So with her things paid for she quickly darted out of the building nearly dragging the pale haired man with her. To which she didn’t think he was happy about but she didn’t care. She needed to get him away from innocent people that were far too close for her liking. Once on the street she slowed down and let go of his hoodie sleeve which she had grabbed onto since grabbing his hand was not a good idea. She sighed softly to herself once she felt like she could relax a little. Sure there were still people around them on the street but Shigaraki didn’t look like he wanted to kill any of them in particular.

“Why did you need to go to the pharmacy for birth control?” Was the question she was bit expecting from the man. And that had her pause and blink her eyes at him. Did he really just ask her why she needed birth control? Was he that unaware? Yeah no he had to know Dabi and her were sleeping together. After all, Dabi made it clear everyone knew since he couldn’t keep his mouth closed. Well fuck Rin was not about to have the sex talk with Shigaraki in the middle of the street.

“Because I had to have it and I couldn’t send someone else for it. Now I’m hungry and want some actual food let’s grab something,” she said quickly trying to change the conversation as she felt her cheeks heat up at the thought that Shigaraki was about to try and ask her about sex. She was not about to have that discussion with him at that moment or hopefully ever.

“Hmm let’s see what do they have for restaurant's or maybe a street cart,” she hummed softly, not wanting to give the man a chance to continue asking her questions. It seemed every time she thought he was going to open his mouth she would say something.

“It will be my treat so don’t worry,” she said quickly as she led him into an actual restaurant. She aimed for one that wasn’t as brightly lit as some of the others she saw. Hopefully that would help hide Shigaraki a bit. Still she knew the meal would have to be quick. But she couldn’t deny a large part of her was really looking forward to having something that wasn’t from a convenient store or something that had to be microwaved.

She could see Shigaraki stressfully scratching at his neck. Rin tried to give him a warm reassuring smile hoping that would settle his nerves. She could understand the skin crawling feeling he may be feeling though. She had never felt the need to look over her shoulder as much as she did during this one outing. Was this what it was like living as a villain? Always worried that someone was going to just suddenly attack them? Because it wasn’t as much fun as she would have liked. And it in turn had her just inhale her meal that she ordered wanting to actually get back to the warehouse. Oh she never thought she would have thought that she would actually want to head back to the warehouse.

At least Shigaraki had kept himself quiet aside from ordering his meal. And didn’t ask her about her stop at the pharmacy again. Ugh she just wanted to curl up in a ball and hide from the world now. Rin was ready for this day to end now as she ate her food and was just as quick to pull out some of the last bit of cash she had to pay for the meal. Once out of the restaurant it felt like she could actually breath again which was a little bit of a stress relief. This was going to take some getting used to as she now felt paranoid even though she herself had never done anything illegal. Well aside from aiding criminals, okay yeah no she was in trouble now.

Ugh Rin needed to stop thinking about this; it was stressing her out and making it worse as she tried to hold onto her morals but that was a real struggle. She knew she was still a good person but the fact that she was currently standing beside Shigaraki willingly ate at her. Where did her loyalties lay? She wasn’t sure. Geez she was giving herself a headache.

“Do you need to do anything before we head back?” She asked Shigaraki even though she had already started walking back the way they had come from, her little bag of supplies in her left hand.

“No,” was the soft hiss she received which was all she needed to hear as she nodded her head softly at him.

“What’s the plan now?” she asked once the streets became empty allowing her the courage to openly ask Shigaraki what was going to happen now.

“I need to build up my party. I need more warriors,” he said simply as they walked. Okay well that wasn’t exactly what she expected to hear but it was more than she expected.

“Yes the party is lacking some good muscle,” she said softly trying to answer in a way he would like it. After all it was easier to keep the man happy than to watch him throw tantrums over nothing. It was really like trying to talk with a young kid.

But with that the walk back remained silent till Shigaraki came to a stop, pulled out his cell phone and proceeded to call Kurogiri. It didn’t even require him to say anything and a portal opened before them. Stepping through the portal was still such an odd and weird sensation as she stepped into the main room of the warehouse and was greeted with Kurogiri standing before them.

As always she flashed the cloud of smoke a smile unsure exactly if he returned the smiles or not but oh well she still always did it. It only took a second for a shiver to run up her back. A quick glance around the room quickly revealed the reason for the slight uneasy feeling. Dabi was standing off to the side, his eyes slits, his lips pressed heavily together. She was almost sure she was watching smoke come up from the edges of his scarred skin. Was it the good skin or damaged skin that was smoking? She wasn’t sure but she felt the need to become a bomb squad member and go over and diffuse the ticking time bomb that was a pissed off Dabi. She quickly thanked both men again and headed towards the smoking bomb ready for whatever she was about to receive.

“What crawled up your ass?” She asked as she watched him glaring at her as she walked towards him. Of course he was like talking with an animal as she watched his top lip pull back to snarl at her.

“What the fuck were you just doing with Shigaraki?” Of course that’s what got him so upset.

“Calm down. You were not around and I needed to go get some things. Shigaraki only said I could go if I took him with,” she said simply as she raised the bag that had been in her hand up to show it off to the man. That at least seemed to have him calm down enough to stop smoking but it was clear that he was still incredibly upset.

“What’s the matter thought I ran away?” She asked with an arched eyebrow and a little snark. Though it was the odd look that flashed across his face as his snarl fell that had her realize she probably had hit the nail on the head. She had not told him she was going out nor had she ever been allowed to leave so he expected her here and waiting for him. Now she felt a little bad.

“That’s not it,” he growled quickly to recover from her realizing he had probably felt abandoned. She sighed softly.

“Alright. Well I want to put away the stuff I grabbed. Come on and help me,” she said as she started walking, indicating for him to come with her. To which he seemed quick to start walking after her.

The days to follow all seemed to fuse together and Rin completely lost track of days. Had it been days? Had it been weeks? Had it been months? Fuck Rin was going crazy loosing her track of days. All she did was eat, sleep, fuck Dabi and chat with the league. Till that morning when Dabi was given a job to do that had him leave for the day. Well there went one of the best ways to keep herself entertained. She would have much more enjoyed Dabi fucking her senseless all day long. He seemed to make it a point when around that the two spent most of that time together naked. The number of bruises, hickeys and scratches also told everyone who saw her what the two enjoyed doing.

Dressed and bored out of her mind she headed for the main large room curious to know who was all around at the moment. The sun had set and only a few dim fluorescent lights lit the hallway before she entered the dark room. Toga, Shigaraki, Compress, and Magne were the only ones who were currently present. Seemed everyone else had their own job to do for the evening. Though the second she entered the room Toga was far too happy to nearly dance as she made her way to Rin.

“Rin have you heard?” She asked, sounding like a gosping high school kid. Then again she kinda was supposed to be a high school kid based on her age. But with a raise of an eyebrow and a tilt of her head told Toga that Rin did not have a clue what she was going off about so she continued, “Twice found some new recruit. Someone with deep pockets that could really help us out. He’s bringing him around tonight.”

A new recruit? Really? Sure she knew that Shigaraki was looking to make new connections and strength to add to his little makeshift army but still it was odd while hiding that he was going to be meeting up with someone. He must have a lot of faith that this person was safe to bring around.

“Oh is that so? Dabi never told me,” she said simply and watched the blonde girl smile widely.

“Well if you ever left your bedroom more often you would have known,” she said teasingly. Fuck okay it was bad when a high school kid is calling you out for spending to much time fucking a guy.

Toga is just lucky she had piqued Rin’s curiosity or she may have just turned around and headed back to her room. Though that really wasn’t healthy for her mental state. Though neither was hanging out mentally ill serial killers. Even Rin had found herself changing. Her attitude grew more sour and rough around these people. Was it just a survival instinct? Was she changing to simply blend in better with the villains? She didn’t know and in some ways she feared the answer. But yet she let it happen all the same.

“So who is coming around?” She asked, still curious what Toga all had to share. The girl loved her gossip after all. So childish but she couldn’t really couldn’t blame Toga after all she was truly still a child.

“I don’t really know. Just some big shot by the way Shigaraki is interested in him. Twice has been the mediator for them and will be showing up pretty soon with the man,” Toga answers as she seemed to dance around Rin. How was the girl so happy? Oh yes mentally ill she didn’t have a care in the world. For being a high school student, well based on that uniform maybe she was a high school kid though she never attended classes so must be a dropout. But still that was a rather big vocabulary for a high school drop out. It was all the more evident to prove that the blonde was smart. She may have some screws loose in her head but she wasn’t stupid.

Well that didn’t tell Rin much aside from the fact that Toga started to go off about how cool it was going to be, was the new guy gonna be interesting? Could she slice him up if Shigaraki didn’t like him? And just everything that ran through the blonde's head was not at all filtered and just came out the blonde's mouth. But clearly this visitor today must be important. Shigaraki was dressed as if going to war. Hands sat all over his body, not just on his face. It very much reminded her of when she had first met the man.

At some point during the nearly one sided conversation Toga and Rin had found themselves sitting on the ground backs to a crate that Compress was sitting on top of as if watching over the two women in the league. Shigaraki was leaning against the wall between two crates as Magne sat on the other crate. With that all conversation came to a halt as the large main door to the warehouse suddenly opened and two figures walked in. The one was easy to recognize. Twice stood wearing his black and white skin tight suit it really didn’t leave much to the imagination. The other man though was new, and odd. The mask that sat on his face reminded her of a plague doctor. Was it a fashion statement? Or something else? She didn’t know and the second her eyes met his, she froze. The most gold eyes she had ever seen met her emerald green ones. Even though the place was dark she had grown accustomed to the lack of light. But his eyes almost seemed to glow in the low light. It felt like she was staring a leopard in the eyes. The man was dangerous, a predator and for a second she felt like a rabbit trapped under his gaze. Pulling her eyes away she looked over at Toga who was asking about the man in front of them and how he was different from any normal criminal. To which Compress was telling her how he was a yakuza member. The last of a dying breed of underground scum was what he was. But Rin bit her tongue as she simply listened, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself.

Rin wasn’t listening to Compress as she knew exactly who the yakuza was thanks to her hero years. But it was surprising to see such a young looking man standing before them. He had to be in his twenties at least but she was having a hard time telling if he was in his mid twenties or not. He looked her age but with only seeing half his face she couldn’t tell. He may be older than herself and she was twenty-three. His skin was pale, but appeared blemish free, he had delicate eyebrows and long lashes. Three piercings sat in his left ear. What she could see looked completely beautiful. It was nearly breathtaking, but still that air of danger around him remained and kept Rin on high alert as she watched him closely.

Rin wasn’t paying the most attention to the discussion going on around her. The man’s voice was slightly distorted with the mask that sat on his face. She didn’t care that they were talking about All For One which was apparently the man Shigaraki called master. Nor did she care about All Might though she was surprised to hear he retired. Now she was curious what happened after the group had been portaled away. What Shigaraki and this young yakuza head talked about didn’t interest her. No, she kept her eyes locked on him waiting to see when the man would attack. After all it felt like she was watching a snake waiting to see when it would strike out and who would it try to strike? Rin could hear Shigaraki move, stepping out from the crates and seemed to stand a little in front of her and to the left. Tension in the air was growing as both men seemed reluctant to yield to one another.

Like a rubber band that had been stretched too far, the tension in the room finally snapped when Shigaraki told the young man to leave. That was all Magne needed to jump into battle. But Rin’s gut sank. She jumped to her feet ready to join the battle, or at least protect herself. Using her quirk Magne was quick to draw the young man in towards her. Though it was the sight of the man removing the glove that covered his hand that had Rin yelling out for Magne to stop. But it was too late. All it took was a touch of a finger on Magnes arm and Rin was forced to watch her seem to just explode from the inside out.

In anger at the loss of their comrade, Compress was the next to jump into the fray. This time it was Shigaraki who called out for the man to stop but it was too late. And although Compress reached him first, for some reason when Compress touched the man nothing happened. This wasn’t good if no one did anything. Compress was going to die next. Compress jumped back but he wasn’t fast enough his left arm was gone. Clamping her hands down onto the ground without thinking she forced a wall between Compress and the man. Which gave Shigaraki an opening as he rushed forwards. Rin didn’t pay attention as she ran towards Compress quickly inspecting the wound at his shoulder where his arm had been removed. It wasn’t the same as Shigaraki’s quirk. This wasn’t disintegration, no it looked like the body had been blown up from the inside out. The cells had been destroyed. She couldn’t fix the arm but she stopped the bleeding. And tried to ease the man’s pain the best she could.

For a moment an all out battle nearly started. Shigaraki had killed a yakuza member before a stalemate had seemed to be met. But when she looked up to check on Shigaraki she found those golden eyes piercing her. It seemed the woman had grabbed the attention of someone she did not want the attention of. Fuck this wasn’t good as she found herself frozen before watching when the man finally turned and left with his cronies.

Once the yakuza group left the building everyone had gathered around Rin and Compress as she had stopped the bleeding but couldn’t actually repair the arm. The cells were destroyed. That man’s quirk was similar to her own but much stronger. He had been able to completely destroy the cells that were Compress’s arm. And Rin didn’t have the ability to repair the atoms and cells. No matter what she tried Rin would never be able to fix that as much as she wished she could.

With Rin watching over Compress Shigaraki was calling Kurogiri back from wherever he had gone off to. With Twice’s help Rin was able to get Compress to a room and had him resting on a bed as she cleaned and dressed his arm before Kurogiri arrived back. There was talk of someone who could help Compress replace the arm he lost. Though she was more fussy over the fact that once the man woke up from his slumber some good pain meds were going to be needed. Though Rin wasn’t sure she could entrust that a group of mentally ill people who could very well have drug addictions could be trusted with morphine or something of similar potency. But still she put the request in quietly to Kurogiri, entrusting he was the only one that would get it for her and not steal any or come back for it,

Sitting on the floor of his room and with Compress sleeping soundly for the time being with a fresh bandage on his shoulder, Rin found her mind wondering. The man who had done this. His quirk was strong, but why had Compresses quirk not worked when he touched him? That gave a sinking feeling that she did not enjoy. It had to be a drug, couldn’t have been someone’s quirk as no one else was in a close enough range to activate such a quirk. Or at least she assumed that quirks that erased others were rare as she only knew of one man who had that ability. She had never worked with the underground hero but she had heard of the stories of his quirk.

Yet a just as unnerving feeling came over her as she recalled the look in those golden eyes as he stared her down as she had been tending to Compresse’s injured arm. It was her quirk that had prevented him from striking a second blow at Compress and that gave Shigaraki the opening to attack and kill one of his men in turn for the life the yakuza boss had taken. The man had never said a word and yet those eyes had looked like they were trying to pierce into her soul. Even just thinking about it had her shiver at the memory.

The sound of soft groans pulled her quickly from her mind as she turned her attention to the man laying out on the bed. His jacket, vest and shirt were removed. Along with his hat, mask and balaclava had been removed so she could see his face. Half lid hazel eyes glanced at her trying to push through the fog of either pain or the drugs she had already given him. It was a bit hard to tell without the machines she was used to having to help.

“Good morning. How are you feeling?” She asked softly as she waited for his gaze to focus on her after she broke the silence and had moved to stand by his bed.

“I’ve felt better but I am sure I could be feeling worse,” he answered as he glanced around the room, recognizing the room.

“Good. Then I’ll cut back on your pain meds. As long as it doesn’t get infected you will be just fine. Shigaraki is already working at having someone make you a new arm,” she said softly as she eyed up the bandages that covered the edge of his shoulder and what remained of his arm after being destroyed.

“Mmm you are an angel,” he hummed softly, giving her a soft smile. Was that his way of saying thank you? Probably.

“I’m simply making sure a friend doesn’t die,” she said softly as she inspected the injury. Though she was surprised with the reply she said without thinking. Was this man really a friend? She knew he was once a performer, who came from a line of villains. He was rather smart and cunning. Though it seemed he cared a lot for those he saw as important. But were they really friends? Would he have done the same for her? Rin wasn’t sure but she had no desire to figure out the answers or think it over any more.

“Yet you're still my angel. Mmm such a beautiful angel,” he hummed the words, his eyes drifting closed.

“Yeah I’m cutting back your morphine,” she said with a light chuckle as she shook her head at the man as he quickly drifted back into a medically induced calm sleep. Though she had to admit it was funny listening to the few sentences the man had been able to get out. With that Rin returned to sitting on the floor leaning her back against the bed. She wasn’t sure she trusted going too far without machines that would notify her if his health took a turn. For now she let her head roll back against the mattress as her own eyes drifted closed after using her quirk so much to heal up Compress’s arm to keep him from bleeding out. It left her feeling exhausted as her eyes drifted shut and she let herself sleep till the sound of someone approaching her woke her up some time later.

The feeling of a boot giving her side a rougher than needed kick jolted her awake as pain shot through her side for a second. The action was not appreciated as she placed one hand on her side and glared up at the man who was glaring down at her.

“Geez what the fuck do you want Dabi?” She hissed at the man in anger as she looked up into those bright blue eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing sleeping on the floor in his room?” Dabi asked, not at all caring to keep himself quiet as he lazily waved a hand at the man laying on his own bed in his own room.

“I don’t have the equipment to monitor him. So I decided to stay close till I know he’s okay,” she said simply. Though it seemed he didn’t like the answer as he glared at her with a growl.

“I don’t care. I expect you to sleep in our bed,” he was upset. But then again when was he never upset with her? Once again she was reminded of how possessive and controlling he could be.

“You can go a night or two without sex and cuddles,” she said, unable to help the rise of an eye brow as she couldn’t help the bratty tone. To which she earned herself her hair being pulled as she was forced to crank her head up as he kneeled down before his lips crashed against hers.

Next Chapter

#boku no hero #mha #bnha smut #no beta read #bnha dabi #dabi #dabi smut #dabi x oc

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sku11s1asher · 2 years

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jake riley x male reader

he may be ooc as I don’t know him that well but I tried

FEM DNI (you will be blocked)

this is smut (surprising ik) ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+. this is my best try at making a feminine male reader (there will be more feminine pet names and reader is imagined w/ femine clothes) so if you have any suggestions to help me pls tell me! alsoooo mention of drugs (just ppl having them at school, reader isn’t drugged nor takes drugs) .

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Your last class of the day finally finished, it felt like forever when it was maybe 40 minutes long. You and your friends started talking while walking down the stairs until, you looked over and saw the same cop look at you. You rolled your eyes, “Whoever he is he’s such a weirdo.” Your friends laughed, “Or maybe he thinks your a druggie.” One said and punched your cheek. “Get off me weirdo.” You lightly pushed them and walked away. “Awww we’re sorry our little baby, did we offended you?” You stopped and glared at them, “Meet me outside right now.” Sadly you didn’t see the cop next to you, “No violence.” You took a deep breath and looked at the cop to realize it’s the one who keeps looking at you. “It was a silly little joke, you think he’d honestly try to fight us?” One of your friends said. The cop just walked away.

“Guys he’s totally a creep, you gotta listen to me.” You said. “My boyfriend isn’t a creep you dumbass, don’t be jealous you can’t pull any bitches.” You acted offended, “Did YOU, just say I can’t get any bitches? I can pull anyone I want.” Your friended looked at you like you were stupid, “Go talk to them guys over there and get their number.” You looked and saw two guys who went to your school, “Them are the ones who always has the drugs.” You looked back at your friend, “Are you trying to make me get free drugs for you?!” Your friend playfully hit you, “NO! Just go talk to them!” You sighed but got up, you were going to prove all of them wrong, you can pull bitches.

You were starting to regret even getting up. As soon as you went to them they looked at you like they were about to eat you alive. “Hey I was wondering if I could get both of your numbers..” you gave them a sweet smile. “Sure.” They both gave you it and you chatted a little more until you felt someone glaring at the back of your head, you turned around and thought it was your friends waiting for you but they were just talking. You excused yourself from them and went back to your friends, “We’re y’all staring at me? I swear I felt someone like glaring at me.” They all said no and you went on with your day.

When you went home that night, you felt something was off but you couldn’t stop thinking about that officer, you would never admit this to anyone but he does magical things to you for some reason.

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Rumors were going around about the cops talking to students and some other stuff, you didn’t pay attention because well, you didn’t do any drugs nor interact with the people who do them. So you should be safe, well at least you thought. You were walking back to your class after using the bathroom and heard someone say your name, “Are you Y/N L/N?” You turn around and see the officer you thought about last night and maybe jacked off to last night, “Yes I am, why?” You felt your pants get tighter the more you heard his voice. “Follow me, I’ve got to ask you some questions.”

You followed him into this room you had never seen before, you were guessing it was an old room they decided to clean up for now. “Sit down.” You didn’t think twice before complying, all you could pay attention to was his muscles and the way his mouth moved, you even pretended to tie your shoe just so you could get only look at his crotch. God, you’re such a weird pervert. You didn’t know he knew everything you were doing, all he had to do is act like he didn’t notice. “So do you know anyone here that might sell anything?” He asked, you shook your head no. You couldn’t bring yourself to speak to him. “Well I hope you know, some officers caught you speaking to them, are you perhaps selling drugs?” “No! I was just asking them for their numbers.”

After answering the rest of his questions he dismisses you, “Well I shouldn’t keep you any longer, you’re free to go. “You didn’t want to leave, so you had to quickly say something,” Well, I do know something else…” He looked at you with a raised eyebrow, “What are you waiting for..? Can you tell me?” You glared at him, “Well I WOULD tell you if you didn’t have an attitude, now you gotta work for it.” You smirked. “No sweetheart, you can go ahead and tell me. You brought it up in the first place.” He looked at you with a glare. You wanted to say so much risky stuff but you thought he wouldn’t show any interest in you, at least you thought so. If only you paid more attention to his eyes.

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You don’t know what happened much after that but, at the moment you do know you are on your knees in front of him. “Don’t be shy, go ahead and suck, I’ve seen your eyes looking the whole time I was talking to you.” You unzipped his pants and pull down his boxers just enough for you to be able to suck his cock. You looked at it and wondered how you were going to fit that in your mouth, he grabbed your head and pushed it closer, “The more you stare, the more impatient I get.” You slowly put his tip in your mouth and swirled your tongue on his tip before putting more in your mouth. You were only halfway and felt like gagging, your mouth was too full for you to handle.

You felt him run his fingers through your hair, it felt refreshing even though you were practically choking on his cock. You looked up at him and saw that he had his eyes closed. “You are doing so good, princess.” His hand suddenly pulled you back by your hair, “Why’d you make me stop?” You asked. “I don’t want to cum first.” He picked you up and placed you on the table, “Have you ever had sex? Or a better question, have you had at least some type of dildo inside you?” Straight to the point, you thought, “What do you think?” “I don’t know, I’m asking you for a reason, love.” Does he think you just gave him the most amazing head in the world without any experience?! “I have obviously, use that cop brain of yours.”

“You have a nasty attitude.” He said after bending you over quickly. You didn’t have any time to think before you felt your pants and panties get pulled down, “Aw, these are so cute.” He wouldn’t let you speak a single word and just stuck his fingers in your mouth. “Get them nice and wet, unless you’d rather me go in dry.” You felt drool drip on your chin, gross. Once he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, he circled them around your hole. “Are you ready?” He asked, “Now you are asking? Just hurry up already before someone comes in here.” He complied and didn’t waste a second before shoving them in you. A moan ripped out of you, “You sound beautiful, princess.”

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Your hands were gripped onto his shoulders, leaving marks but neither of you cared. You tried to hide your moans but couldn’t, his fingers were hitting all the right spots, “Please-” Begging for no particular reason, “Please what?” “Don’t stop!” He smirked, “I wasn’t planning on it.” You were about to cum, he felt you tighten around his fingers so he went faster. After a couple of seconds, you cummed for the first time that night. “Good job, love.” He reached for something and pulled out a condom. “You have condoms but not lube..?” He just looked at you and didn’t respond with words but with his actions. The condom was on and he slowly pushed into you, making sure to hold your hand in the process even if you didn’t ask for it. Once he was in fully, he waited until he felt some movement from you before pulling out and slamming back in.

This may be yalls first time fucking but, he knew all the right places to hit. “Jake!” You were starting to moan a little too loud, and even though he loved you moaning his name, he didn’t want to get caught. He somehow took off your panties when you were on cloud 9, and shoved them in your mouth. Mumbled words and moans came out of your mouth while he continued to fuck you like no tomorrow. His thrust were starting to become faster and harder, indicating he was close. You squeezed around him which made him groan, “Fuck, calm down a little bit.” In reality, he didn’t care how hard your hole clenched around him, you were so warm and soft inside that he got lost in the feeling. Before he knew it, he cummed. You still were erect, so he gave you a short handjob to finish the job.

You were calming down while he started to clean up the place a little bit, “I hope you enjoyed our little session.” He whispered in your ear. You let out a short moan as he cleaned you up as much as he could. He handed you some water, “I don’t have anything to eat on me sorry.” “It’s fine, you can just take me out on a date later tonight to make up for it.” You replied with a smile. He quickly scribbled down something on a piece of paper and put it in your pocket. He gave your ass a squeeze, “Cant wait to see you tonight, princess.”

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This was requested by: @weepingsandwichenemy

Sorry for taking so long to upload, I’ve been all over the place with some stuff. I’m trying to get back into writing so I’m sorry if the smut/ending is disappointing ☹️

#jake riley #containment #police #gay #male reader #midshot #mxm #oneshot #request #smut #this is so gay #feminine male reader #Jake Riley x male reader #I’m sorry if this sucks ass #requested #this took so long for what #IM SORRY FOR THE WAIT

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