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arlestial · 11 months

Note

Hey, could you make a part two of how the Blue Lock boys make up for the forgotten date? (Nagi,Isagi,Bachira) 🌷

❝if you'd have been the one❞

synopsis : Life is sometimes difficult, keeping them busy and away from you; until it turned to take you away from them.

pairing : Isagi Yoichi, Nagi Seishiro, Bachira Meguru x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : Alternative endings (angst or fluff/comfort)

word count : 4300~ words

author-note : Hi !! I’m so happy y’all liked this, so I decided to write a part II. Some wanted angst, others comfort, so I did both in order to please everyone :) The part I is here ! Thanks for all your kindness, I’m overjoyed to see so much attention on my writings 😭 I hope you’ll like it !! take care of yourself ♡

tag-list : @cecee77, @mandapanda16, @mariyumemi, @someonethatisnobody, @erintaro, @missalienqueen, @8-xnny, @miyanosm, @neuvilletteismybby

ISAGI YOICHI’s eyes widened when he saw your text, after the game. He knew he fucked-up the instant he stepped inside the soccer field, already regretting his decision. He won, but the stadium applause sounded like an awful ringtone that woke him up to reality, a shrill noise crashing his organs and piercing his ears. His heart was racing; not because of the victory, but because of the apprehension. The fear. The panic, that perhaps, he had lost you. But you wouldn’t leave him, right ? Everybody make errors. You would forgive him, no need to stress. At least, that’s what he was trying to convince himself. But in the depths of his own mind, he wasn’t this confident. He took his phone, excusing himself from his teammates that were celebrating, and isolated himself in the corridor. He tried to call, but you refused it twice. He groaned, his hands shaking, trying to tap a text quickly.

22:49p.m. | y/n ♡ : guess you made your choice then.

- read at 00:24a.m.

00:24a.m. | yoichi ♡ : honey please just accept the call

i know I fucked up, I’m sorry

i shouldn’t have done that

- read at 00:33a.m.

00:34a.m. | yoichi ♡ : i know you don’t want to talk to me right now

I’m coming over

- read at 00:38a.m.

00:39a.m. | y/n ♡ : gosh, how savvy and perspicacious of you.

- read at 00:39a.m.

00:40a.m. | yoichi ♡ : here in two minutes

- read at 00:41a.m.

You turned off your phone, completely mad. You clearly didn’t want to talk to him right now, especially this late. He couldn’t care less about you when he was playing on the field; and now, surprisingly, he knew that he fucked up and he regretted it ? Please. You decided to spend the night elsewhere, at your parents, since they were the only ones responding in the middle of the night - they were probably watching a movie at home and were a bit surprised to see you texting them a "hey, can I come over ? got an issue at home" text out-of-the-blue. As you exited your bedroom with a bag filled with spare clothes, you’re met by a raven-haired man, panting, still in his blue jersey, preventing you from leaving the house. He grabbed your waist when you tried to walk past him.

"Isagi, let me go."

"Love, listen. What I did was selfish, I know, it was a terrible mistake."

"So tell me, Isagi, when did you feel regret ? When you stood me up or when I texted you back, making it clear that I was upset ?"

"Actually, from the very first moment my foot landed on the field. But that doesn’t change anything, it’s still shitty of me, and i-"

"But it changes everything, in fact. So, you could’ve turned around. You could’ve joined me at this restaurant, like you promised me, no ? But you didn’t. So you just lied right in front of my face. How bold of you."

He felt like suffocating. You were right. He should’ve refused to play the match, even if there were the most talented players in the world; because you were his lover, goddamnit. He knew you were insecure, because he was rather absent, and he should’ve came to the date he promised to take you to. He was busy with Blue Lock, neglecting you in the process and not setting aside enough time to reassure you like he was supposed to. He wanted you to slap him, to punch him, as hard as you could; he wanted to suffer physically. It was easier to bear physical pain than to handle the mental distress he was in.

"But no, my sweet boyfriend Isagi Yoichi decided to stood me up to play some random game as if he’s not always away from me all the damn time."

"I don’t know why I did that, honestly. It was stupid, and I’m deeply sorry. You know that I love you a lot, right ? You’re the most important thing in my life, and I don’t want to loose you because I’m too immature to think before I-"

"Am I even enough for you ?"

You were losing patience, your tone now sharp, trying to bite away the tears from falling.

"Obviously you are, darling. You are more than enough, and you deserve so much better than me."

He hurried to say, his hands coming to your cheeks, gently stroking them with his thumbs. The concerned look on his face grew rapidly in a desperate, frightened one.

"That doesn’t feel like it. If it was the case, you’d have turned around. Soccer had always been your main interest, and I’ve always been the second. I don’t want to be with a guy that prefers a sport to his own partner."

ISAGI YOICHI had never experienced so much fear in a lapse of time this short. His heart skipped multiple beats - maybe it stopped completely, heavy. He heard the blood rushing in his veins, in his ears, as if the pulsations were the applause of a whole stadium; it was deafening. His breath hitched, goosebumps painting themselves on his clothed arms. Don’t go.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ Your mind kept telling you that he wasn’t feeling any regret, that he wasn’t really sorry. If this situation presented itself again, he would pick the same decision, leaving you alone, completely by yourself in this stupid restaurant, below the pitiful looks of the waiters, probably whispering at each other who could even stood you up like that. He put distance in your relationship since weeks, months even, ghosting you when he was too tired to send you at least one text to let you know that he loved you still. Regardless of his lack of attention towards you, he wasn’t even capable of respecting his own promises, as he might prefer to play soccer with his friends as usual. And you were just there, always waiting for him, in every situation, waiting for him to come home with a warm smile and a good dinner, sharing kisses, hugs and cuddles on the couch, disappointed when he was reminding you that he’d be gone again in two or three days to return to Blue Lock. You were tired of it. It wasn’t even a relationship at this point.

"I’m not a toy you can play with for some time and then abandon like it’s nothing. My patience is not infinite."

"I never said that. It was an opportunity I couldn’t miss, and I wasn’t enough thoughtful to realize about the consequences of my actions. I just hope you can forgive me for it."

You pushed his wrists away from your face, glaring at him coldly, not wanting to cry for him. You took your bag and walked past him successfully this time, opening the door without giving him a single glance; just stopping in your tracks as you reached the doorknob.

"Goodbye, Isagi. I hope you’ll become the player you desired to be for so long."

You were his motivation, the person he wanted to make proud, the person he wanted to impress when showing his new capacities and his strength. The person he wanted to come home to, everyday, as lovesick as the day before. But now, the tears were flowing silently on his cheeks, as he couldn’t process what he saw. You, closing the door behind yourself, leaving him without any chance of coming back. Because you sincerely realize how much you love someone when you actually lose them.

↳ You tried to push him away, in a faint attempt to show how much you hated him right now. But he just stared at you, his gaze never fading, and he tilted your chin up with his hand. The other went straight to your waist, pressing you against him. Your eyes and his met; and you swore you’ve never saw a fonder look in your entire life. Orbs filled with pure love and softness, enamoured unpronounceable words, a silent plea begging your forgiveness. He leaned and kissed you gently, carefully. When he finally broke the kiss, he took your hand in his and intertwined your fingers together, pressing multiple kisses on the back of your hand without breaking the eye contact you both were sharing.

"You deserve someone better, honey. And I want- no, I will become this someone, that will love you properly. I promise you this - and if I break this promise, I swear, you can kill me however you like, it’s up to you."

You bit back a chuckle, amused by his words; but on the depths of your heart, you were fully aware that he was genuine.

"I’ll never disappoint you again. You’re the love of my life, I couldn’t handle loosing you. I’m sorry for what I did, again. I’m an asshole. Really."

He kissed your forehead with so much tenderness, a tenderness you missed during his long absence. He peppered kisses on your face, his grip on your waist tightening, as if you were going to slip away from him. He whispered something else, not daring to break the eye-contact,

"I’d rather watch the whole world burn and experience an endless suffering that having you leaving me for good."

NAGI SEISHIRO tried everything. After multiple unanswered calls and messages left on “seen”, he noticed that you’ve blocked him. He sighed, staring at his ceiling. Was it the end ? He tried to forget you, he really did. He tried to convince himself that you weren’t this important. He tried to wake-up each morning without searching for you underneath the sheets, only to find a cold bed next to him. Occupying his thoughts with games, movies, series, even soccer, wasn’t enough anymore. He needed you in his arms, and he was willing to do every single thing imaginable to get you back.

You were at one of your friend’s apartment, enjoying some time with her watching your favorite series. She left the couch to get you a drink, mumbling a quick "pause the episode, I don’t wanna miss it" before hurrying to the kitchen. You smiled, and did as she asked; until you heard a knock on the door. You frowned.

"You ordered take-out ?", you called your friend from the couch, questionably.

"Nah, I didn’t. Told you we were going to one of my friends’ restaurant this evening."

She came back from the kitchen, two glasses filled in her hands, her brows furrowed. She put them on the table, glancing at the door.

"Who is it then ?"

"Don’t know. Wait, be right back.", she quickly turned around, walking towards the door, and opening it slightly. Her face went blank in approximately 2 seconds, and she gulped.

"Um.. Well, that’s awkward."

You couldn’t hear correctly what your friend said to the stranger; you could only hear a low voice, that sounded awfully familiar. So, you decided to get up, trying to get a peek of the tall figure standing in the corridor.

Your eyes widened.

The series was long forgotten on the screen, the voices echoing between the walls, as you stared, dumbfounded, at him.

Seishiro.

Your friend shifted uncomfortably, deciding to leave you both alone for some privacy as she promptly went to her room. You didn’t know what to say. What to think. But the dark bags under his eyes, that looked stern and empty, his hair even more messy than before, gave you relatively an idea of how the two passed weeks had been for him.

"What are you even doing here, Nagi ?"

Ouch. The use of his name instead of his first name was abysmal; but a relieved sigh escaped from his lips. Finally. Your voice. It sounded so much better than your voicemail, that he had listened every night after you left him in your shared apartment.

"I’m sorry. I- I’m really, fucking sorry for what I did. I miss you, Y/N. I can’t-"

"Nagi, stop. I can’t do this right now."

You cut him instantly, trying to close the door. Well, trying, because he refrained you from doing so, laying his whole strength on the door to keep you from leaving him again.

"Please, Y/N, at least, hear me out."

His voice was pleading, begging even; as much as your heart broke with his wobbly words, you didn’t know what to think, what to say. You bit your inside cheek, wondering what to do, now that he was so close to you, after all this time.

NAGI SEISHIRO looked at you dead in the eye, his own blackish orbs watering at the sight of your frame standing in front of him. His hand wandered to your cheek, his fingertips almost grazing your smooth skin that he missed so bad, as if you were made of real porcelain. Porcelain that he’d break with only one feather touch. So he held back.

"I missed you so much," his voice broke, approaching you hesitantly. "So fucking much. I’m sorry for neglecting you and taking you for granted all the time, I’m sorry I didn’t give you the attention you deserved, the attention you needed. I need you to come back to me. I can’t live without you, baby."

Forgiving him was a tough choice. Your heart was aching at the sight of tears rolling down his cheeks. You’ve never seen Nagi cry before, at least, not cries of pain. But he hurt you, he really did. These two weeks were just obnoxious to him, but they were worse to you. Seeing his texts, his calls, deciding to block him anyway - it was laborious, to say the least, because your feelings for him were still there, haunting your mind constantly, day and night.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ How could you just forgive him like that ? After all he did ? Sure, you meant a lot to him, but did you mean more than anything else ? You were always second, never the first, and it became clearer each day that passed that you weren’t as important as you thought you would be for him. He didn’t even made time for you in his oh-so-important schedule, focusing on soccer and his fucking games, hanging out with his friends who knows where, instead of you. He chose it. It wasn’t random. You weren’t his priority at all. Sitting patiently on the couch, staring at the door with this constant lovesick gaze, waiting for him to return to finally go on your well promised date. But he never returned. And you weren’t going to return either. It was enough.

"You know what ? You were the first thing in my mind, everyday. You always have been the first person I was thinking of in whatever situation I was in. The only voice I wanted to hear, the only person I wanted to see, the only gaze I wanted to get lost in - now don’t tell me you feel the same."

"I do-", but you immediately cut him off, anger taking the best of you.

"You’re a freaking liar. What’s the next step, uh ? You’re going to promise me you’ve changed ? You think I’m stupid or something ? I’m not naive, Nagi, I’ve never been your priority and I’ll never be."

"You don’t understand, Y/N. I’ve been busy, you’re right, but give me a second chance. I promi- I’ll not make the same mistake again, that’s for sure. I realized that you were extremely important to me, more important that I’d like to admit actually, I can’t bear seeing you without me at your side, it just hurts too much. I’m just asking for a second chance."

"As much as it hurts to say, it’s over. I’m not going to give you a second chance when I knew damn well that it’ll not change anything. If you needed time to process your love for me, I’m definitely going to give you time to process it even more."

His eyes widened when he saw you slowly closing the door, in a faint attempt of ending the discussion.

"No, wait, I beg-"

"Move on. It won’t be so difficult anyway, spend some time with your friends and your games, you’ll soon forget about me."

He was now staring at the wooden door of the apartment, tears streaming down his features. He lost you for good this time. And he finally understood how it felt to receive the same treatment that he gave you; to be abandoned by your lover when you needed them the most.

↳ Seeing him in tears didn’t really help your case. Your heart burnt, and you soon felt yourself tearing up, your vision blurred. You let out a broken sob, to which he responded with a call of your name - desperate, probably as broken as your cries - and he embraced you tightly, his nose nuzzling on your neck, sighing when he finally touched you, melting in the loveable hold he wished to feel again. He kept repeating the same apologies, the same confessions of love, hoping it’d soothe your tears.

"I don’t want to hurt you ever again," he mumbled, stroking the back of your hair gently, "I’ll never hurt you ever again.", he assured with a shaky voice.

He kissed your temple softly, still holding you close to him, your head resting on his chest.

"It’ll be the last time I’ll ever put something above you. You’re the most important thing to me - I can’t live without your presence near me all the time. I’m sorry I just realized that I needed to tell you this now. I should’ve known you deserved to hear it properly,"

"You’ll be my highest priority from now on, as it should’ve been from the very beginning, angel."

BACHIRA MEGURU was anxious. At first, he decided to give you space. He hated arguments with you, always trying to avoid them, and he thought that distancing himself might help the situation. Spoiler alert, it didn’t. Sweaty palms grabbing his phone, and immediately turning it off, utterly incompetent. He didn’t want to argue, to entertain a conflict with you; he prefered your smiles and your soft giggles in tickle fights. He missed them. The sound of your hard laughs, the look of your teasing grins. However, he couldn’t bring himself to text you, nor to call you, afraid that you’d pronounce a dry "it’s over". He couldn’t handle the pain, and avoiding it wasn’t the best idea to fix the issue. Meanwhile, it had been 3 weeks, you were now nearly convinced that your relationship with him had come to an end. No texts, no calls, no attempts to see you, you founded it weird, but you didn’t question it. It worried you a bit, yeah, but you weren’t going to chase after him if he didn’t want to talk about it. You were more hurt than worried; after all your moments together, the shared memories and the heavy feelings, he just moved on this easily ? Even though it was totally his fault ? You just scoffed when your friends asked about him, hiding your devasted state behind a mocking tone, saying it was probably over now. You waited for a message all the time, staring at the screen, angry fat tears rolling down your cheeks in frustration. What an asshole.

"You never texted them ? Bachira, are you crazy ?"

Isagi exclaimed, in utter shock. They were in his bedroom, Isagi was sitting on his bed, unable to process what Bachira just told him. The usually joyful man paced around, his face in his hands.

"I- I didn’t know what to say ! I fucked up really bad this time, I was scared of losing them."

"Man, you definitely lost them now. It’s been 3 weeks, you should’ve said something earlier !", Isagi replied, nearly strangling himself in desbelief.

"I know. What should I do ?"

"Bachira..", he sighed, biting his lip in despair, "it’s probably too late now. They’re most likely thinking that you don’t love them anymore or that you moved on."

"But I didn’t ?", Bachira whined when Isagi stood up and smacked his head, annoyed. Isagi mumbled something inaudible, probably about his naivety or his stupidness, again.

"But that’s what it looks like, bro. You stood them up, and they got no news from you, don’t be stupid. Everyone would think the same thing."

Bachira gulped. He was right. And without hesitation, he ran away from his home, heading towards your place, in hope you would accept his apologies. He never sprinted this fast in his entire life, his muscles burning, his ankles aching from the impact of his feet against the stiff concrete of the streets he was running in. The road seemed even longer than usual, and when he finally arrived on your doorstep, he was panting, his hands shaking as he hesitantly knocked. He felt nauseous. Emotions overwhelmed him when he finally saw your form opening the door with a worried look.

"Meguru ? What are you even doing here ?"

He immediately took you in his arms, his head buried in the crook of your neck, breathing-in your comfortable scent, relieved. You yelped in surprise, not reciprocating the hug.

"I missed you so much."

He muttered, still trying to catch his breath. You frowned, surprised by his presence.

"It had been 3 weeks, Meguru. It’s a bit late to come here."

"I know. I should’ve come earlier. I’m so sorry, Y/N. Please, forgive me ? I promise I won’t do it again !"

BACHIRA MEGURU didn’t want to let go of you, choosing to hold you even tighter, letting his tears soak your shirt. He couldn’t care less about crashing your bones with just arms; if it was possible, he’d live in your skin. That seemed creepy, to say the least, but he enjoyed over-proximity with you, and he couldn’t bear to be apart from you anymore.

The choice was all yours, now.

↳ After 3 weeks, seriously ? You pushed him off of you, clearly not amused by his whines. You just felt anger, disappointment, embarrassment.

"Meguru, you left me alone for 3 weeks straight, and now you’re coming unannounced as if it was actually common ?"

"You don’t understand, Y/N !! I was too anxious of your reaction after our argument. I didn’t know how to deal with the guilt I felt, I didn’t know how to apologize properly.."

"No, you don’t understand. You really think that ghosting and ignoring people as if they never existed was a solution ? I should be the one to do that, not you. You’re always avoiding conflict and I’m so sick of it."

"I know-"

"No, you don’t !", you sneered, taking a long breath to soothe your nerves, "You never did. You haven’t remembered our anniversary - and it’s not the only thing you’ve forgotten along the way. You never took our conversations seriously, you never put any attention in our memories and our celebrations for them. I don’t want to be with someone who’s not even capable of being mindful of our important moments together and of our special dates. If it’s not important to you, alas, it is for me. I won’t give up another thing, especially if it’s something that is dear to me."

"It’s important for me, I swear. I just don’t know how to show it correctly."

"Then learn. But you can count me out."

You opened the door, leaving a broken Bachira behind, reaching after you. But you turned to stop him, giving him a quick nod, a silent no. The weak smile on your face shushed the golden-eyed boy. And he understood.

"I wish you the best, Meguru."

↳ You bit your inside cheek. Always giving promises he couldn’t keep, with a beam and butterfly kisses. And as much as you loved him, you didn’t know if you could tolerate it again, if your heart could handle another betrayal.

"You’re always promising the same things, but you’re never actually changing.", you argued.

"I can. I know I disappointed you, and you have every right to be upset. I’m trying my best, learning to manage my feelings and my habits is hard and tough, but I’ll do it for you. I’m really trying, Y/N,", he said, his voice breaking slightly, "I’m not used to this. It’s- you’re my first love, and I really hope you’ll be my last. I don’t have any experience in terms of relationships. If dates are important to you, I’ll make all the efforts in the world to make them special and memorable. I want to grow old with you, so please, give me one last chance to prove you that I’m worth it."

You hesitated for some seconds. He wasn’t the type to lie, and right now, he sounded strangely serious. It felt out-of-character, but you needed it to actually make up a decision.

"Fine. But it’s your last chance.", you finally whispered,

"Yes ma’am. Trust me on this one, I’ll make you proud of my work."

He sighed, relieved, immediately peppering your face with kisses. You giggled, trying to push him away.

"Gosh, I missed this sound. Oh- and I’m taking you on a date after; that’s the least I can do. I love you to the moon and to saturn, Y/N. Thank you for everything."

705 notes · View notes

averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

Text

Lover 💗 | Bradley Bradshaw Imagine

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Bradley Bradshaw x singer!reader (female/romance)

Content Warnings: fluff, mentions of sexism, references to pop culture, profanity | female!reader (she/her) | wc: 5.6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (for @auroradawnwrites 💗)

Premise : When it came to her love life, singer and songwriter Y/n L/n had a reputation where it felt like the world was against her to the point she doubted ever finding her perfect match. Being in the industry for so long made it difficult to envision what a life with her potential soulmate would be like. But sometimes great things come to people who are patient. And finding the person who made Y/n feel like the only girl in the world had that reputation flicker away like dust on a bookshelf.

Note: I know I keep apologizing for the long waits in my requests but I promise it’s because of having to balance school, random shit happening in my life, and wanting to put out a developed, well-thought out story that the requested person deserves 🥹 and I realized about week ago when I started writing this one after finally getting to it after it was sent in February. @auroradawnwrites I saw that you posted last month that you were leaving your blog but if you happen to see this on another account or still have the notifications on for that blog just know I’m so sorry for this taking so long and I hope it was everything you imagined 😭

Songs headcanonned for singer!reader: ‘Love Story,’ ‘Bad Blood,’ ‘Look What You Made Me Do,’ ‘Getaway Car’ ‘You Need To Calm Down’ by Taylor Swift. ‘Love’ by Lana Del Rey. Albums mentioned that are headcanonned for singer!reader: ‘Lover’, ‘1989’ (I just changed it to 1986 to suit the headcanonned year of birth for reader), ‘Reputation,’ ‘Fearless,’ ‘Red’

——————————

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome back our next guest,” Jimmy Fallon grins to the audience, arm slightly raising towards the curtains. “She’s been a friend to The Tonight Show for a long time. Here to celebrate twenty years since her debut and to talk about her newest album ‘Lover,’ singer and songwriter—the one and only, Y/n L/n!!”

There’s no need to turn on the sign reading ‘Applause,’ because the audience are on their feet when the curtains draw open slightly to reveal the beaming popstar. People are waving frantically, whistling, some even on the verge of tears at the fact they were in the presence of their idol. It was even hard hearing the band play from the noise

Y/n smiled the entire walk to Jimmy, blowing kisses at the crowd before embracing the man in a hug and settling down on the arm chair. “Wow, wow, wow,” he shouted, watching her give one last wave as he sat in his own chair. “Hi, Y/n.”

“Hi, Jimmy! It’s wonderful to see you again.”

“It’s great to see you too, it’s been awhile since we’ve had you on, huh?” Both make faces indicating they were thinking about her last appearance on the show.

“I think it’s been almost…six years,” Y/n tapped her lips with a finger. “Pre-pandemic I believe—because I haven’t really done much since 2019.”

“Yeah, you took a bit of a break.”

“A much needed one,” she chuckled, “But it feels so great to be back. I’ve been taking this time to really put time into discovering who I am as a person and what is next for me. I’m so grateful for the fans who’ve supported me all this time—I know,” she looks to the camera, “I know I kept you waiting, but fear not, I am back and better than ever.” The statement ignites a holler and applause from the crowd.

Jimmy claps with the audience, “That’s what I’m talking about. What can you tell us about this new music you’ve been working on? I know I mentioned your upcoming one, but you actually announced you will be releasing another at the end of this year, correct?”

Instantly Y/n lights up, “That’s right, Jimmy. For starters Lover is probably my most personal album to date. During the pandemic I basically shut myself off from everyone—and the world because I deleted the social media apps off my phone,” there’s a light chuckle from the crowd, “which made everyone go crazy thinking I died. But I can assure you I was just trying to put all my time and energy into writing, producing, selecting which songs would go on the track list. Each song is there for a specific reason—telling a story per say, and I feel listeners will be able to relate in some way.”

“Why the name ‘Lover,’?” Jimmy asked with curiosity, “is it a metaphor for the story or does it have a deeper meaning?” Judging by the cheesy smile Y/n started to do, Jimmy straightened his posture. “Are you….?”

“It’s for the lovers, you know?” Y/n shrugged nonchalantly. Those around didn’t buy it, leaning forward in their seats with curious eyes. “Yeah it’s about love and those feelings where you think your heart is about to burst from your chest. Like I said, many will be able to relate to it.”

Jimmy gave a look, “So did someone in your life inspire it perhaps?”

Instead of answering right at that second, Y/n remained grinning as the face of inspiration and the owner of her heart appeared in her mind. His gorgeous hazel eyes glowing under the sunlight. The feeling of his warm body against hers each time he held her in his arms. Tickling sensations from his mustache when he rained kisses across her skin. The sound of his laugh whenever he made a joke or she did something silly just to see him smile. Fingers dancing across the piano while they sang their favorite songs in their own private concert.

Her lover. Her life. Her reason for waking up everyday in an endless state of bliss. The person who inspired nearly every song on the album, best describing it as a love letter to him.

Relationships and romance had been a complicated part of Y/n’s life and career. A reputation often frowned upon despite only seeing a small picture.

It all started one summer day in Nashville, Tennessee. 17-year-old Y/n had big dreams and aspirations of being a singer, spending her free time playing guitar and writing songs about teenage experiences. Growing up in Tennessee, the birthplace of country music, Y/n was surrounded by the legacy of icons like Dolly Parton, The Dixie Chicks, Johnny Cash, Hank Williams, Reba McEntire, and Kenny Rogers. It was all she listened to growing up, though she did dabble in pop and R&B—going on to cite Aaliyah, TLC, Whitney Houston, and David Bowie as influences in her music.

“I hear the high school is having a talent show Friday night,” her coworker hummed, handing over the now clean plate to be dried. “Did you sign up?”

“No,” Y/n tiredly exhaled. It was pushing 8 o’clock and she still had one more hour until closing. Working at a popular diner gave Y/n the ability to save for college and an apartment, but it meant working more hours than what she legally was supposed to—on top of balancing school and band. “I have a pre-cal test on monday so I planned to stay in and study.”

“Oh c’mon! You’ve been itching to sign up all year—why back out now? All for a test you know you’ll get an A on?”

Y/n rolled her eyes, taking another plate to dry, “That’s reaching and you know it.”

“Y/n, you’re one of the smartest people in our grade. Literally will be in the top five come graduation. It’s a Friday night and the whole school is gonna be there,” her friend pleads to her, “you’ve got a voice that’s meant to be heard and songs that should be on the radio.”

The teen gives a ‘I don’t think so,’ shrug, “Eh, I feel my style is not exactly what country music is looking for.”

“Maybe so…but maybe it’s what it needs.”

Guitar in hand and shaking like a leaf, Y/n pulled everything in her to drum her fingers on the strings. The spotlight shining down on her made her squint, unable to see into the crowd save for the silhouette of their heads.

“Just breathe, Y/n,” she mentally told herself. It was dead quiet in the auditorium after a light applause when the drama teacher called her name. And since she wasn’t using an electric guitar, there was no way to hook hers up to the speakers. “Breathe and let your voice do the work.”

Clearing her throat, her lips curled into a shy smile, “This is an original song I’ve been working on. Hope you like it.” Slowly the tune began to echo through the auditorium. Y/n’s voice was shaky at the beginning, but soon found confidence when she closed her eyes and pictured herself in the comfort of her own room.

“We were both young when I first saw you.”

“I close my eyes and the flashback starts, I’m standing’ there.”

“On a balcony in summer air.”

Those in the crowd perked up, schoolmates looking at each other with impressed gazes.

“See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns.”

“See you make your way through the crowd, and say, “Hello.”

“Little did I know.”

Finally finding her rhythm, a genuine grin broke out on her face.

“That you were Romeo, you were throwin’ pebbles.”

“And my daddy said, “Stay away from Juliet—and I was cryin’ on the staircase,”

“Beggin’ you, “Please don’t go,” she let her voice drag out the ‘go’, igniting jaws to be dropped. “And I said.”

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run.”

“You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess.”

“It’s a love story, baby, just say, ‘Yes.’”

Needless to say, Y/n went home with the winning trophy….and a meeting with Capitol Records Nashville.

Going to college was no longer the plan for Y/n once her signature hit the contract. 3 albums and a promise to take country music by storm was the new future. Staring as soon as her tassel turned from right to left with the class of 2004. Y/n packed up her tiny Honda Civic with everything she had, kissed her family goodbye with plans to see them for the holidays and settled into a cozy studio apartment smack in the middle of Nashville.

“You have a unique voice and lyrical direction, Y/n,” Randy Kingston, one of the execs at CRN said to her one day. “You’re not full country—by that I mean there’s a pop element you bring to the table. Country-Pop if you will.”

Y/n didn’t know how to respond except nod, “Uhhh yeah? I listen to a lot of different genres—-Pop being a big one. A-and I like to experiment by adding different….flavors to my music.” Her expression turns nervous, “is that gonna be a problem, sir?”

Randy rubbed the bottom of his chin with a hand, “No, I don’t think it will. It’s refreshing and something new. Frankly I think you’re gonna do well with the youngin’s. Your age range will likely be the best receivers.”

Turns out Randy was right. Releasing her first two singles were met with wide recognition from teenagers and young adults. Topping the country music charts for several weeks. During that time Y/n began working on her debut self-titled album on top of filming her first music video for ‘Love Story’. When it dropped, it didn’t just get noticed within the country scene. MTV released it during their early morning showings most people played when getting ready for school and work. Doing so allowed ‘Love Story’ to get more attention that people who were not even country fans were purchasing the single.

“Platinum?!” Y/n screamed at the sight of the framed record indicating ‘Love Story’ sold one million copies.

“Platinum,” Randy grinned, presenting it to her. “Well done, kiddo. You deserve it.” He also dropped the ball that Ellen Degeneres called to schedule an appearance—which nearly had Y/n drop the frame in her hands.

The Ellen Degeneres Show was the first public interview Y/n had ever done. And….it was the first time she was questioned about her love life. Something that would become her greatest nemesis throughout her entire career.

“So your song ‘Love Story’ is all about love, yes?” Ellen asked, igniting a laugh from the audience given the title of the song made it obvious what it was about.

“Yes.”

“So does that mean you got some love going on for yourself? Anyone who inspired this for you?”

“U-Uh, no?” It came out more like a question, causing the audience to laugh while she nervously smiled. “Not really—I-I’m not dating anyone currently, but the song sorta came from my love for romance novels and movies. Everyone desires love,” she nods to herself, “and I wanted to write something that people could relate to. Plus I love Romeo and Juliet—which is the big inspiration for the song.”

Following the appearance on Ellen, Y/n focused on writing music and releasing her albums. Her unique sound of combining country with elements of pop and R&B had listeners from all over the world drawn to her. It was a new era of country music.

But not everyone was very accepting of it.

Older generations and die hard lovers of traditional country were very unwelcoming to Y/n. They felt she didn’t belong in the genre and was better suited for pop. Though Y/n agreed to some extent, she feared making the transition from country to full pop wouldn’t be wise. She was still roughly new to the industry, trusting the judgment of her label who she was contracted to do 3 albums for. So she continued to fulfill her duty until the right moment came.

By the end of the first decade in the 21st century, Y/n had established herself one of the leading artists in country music with four Grammys, six MTV Moonmen, four AMA’s, five Billboard awards and 12 CMA’s. She appeared twice on SNL, performed at Dick Clark’s New Year Rockin’ Eve, and even collaborated with Miranda Lambert.

Yet the media liked to only talk about Y/n’s dating history.

In the first year of her career, Y/n briefly dated Jesse McCartney after first meeting at the 2005 Kids Choice Awards. Shortly after their breakup she was seen with Harry Potter actor Tom Felton, but nothing came out of it. The ‘date’ the media thought had actually been a handout between several of their mutual friends where they happened to be pictured smiling and laughing. After that incident Y/n did get into a five month long relationship with Leonardo DiCaprio, who was twelve years older than her and sparked endless conversation in the media.

Then in 2007-2009 Y/n became involved with Eddie Redmayne following their introduction to each other at Ellen Degeneres’ birthday party. They remained friends afterwards, but their relationship inspired a lot of Y/n’s work which resulted in people criticizing her for making too many break up songs.

“You’ve had quite the track record when it comes to the romance scene, Y/n,” David Letterman voiced during her appearance on his show. The singer was overcome with immediate dread. Again was she subjected to questions about her love life when it was no one’s business. But of course, if there’s one thing men like David have, it’s the audacity. “Which brings me to my next questions: are you dating anyone? And are they gonna have a song about them once you two break up?”

Now unfortunately it was common knowledge late night show hosts were disrespectful towards their guests and didn’t know what boundaries were. Though this was known, however, there was still the underlying pressure to keep silent by smiling and pushing through. Sometimes playing it off like it doesn’t affect you was better than having an outburst and being criticized more by the media. Displaying any offense would label them emotional and sensitive.

Though she wanted nothing more than to walk off the set and cry in her dressing room, Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and answered as calmly as she could muster. “I’m not seeing anyone at the moment. I just want to focus on my music and what comes from my heart is what I put out.”

When Y/n did get into a relationship or was seen on a friendly date—hell even being spotted when out with a male friend for lunch had paparazzi and tabloids bombarding her.

“Is love in the air….again? Country music’s it girl, 24-year-old Y/n L/n, was seen holding hands with Australian actor Xavier Samuel who’s playing Riley Biers in the upcoming third installment of The Twilight Saga. Just this past March Y/n was linked to the son of Tennessee’s Attorney General. Let’s not forget L/n was in a two year romance with Eddie Redmayne before calling it quits last fall. Fans are starting to notice a pattern when it comes to L/n’s relationships and album releases. Should we expect her new single to drop within the next year? And will this romance with Samuel blossom into something long term or end as a spur of the moment flame?”

Notice how all the attention is Y/n and her life? Never once were the men she dated ever asked questions like she was—even if they had a history rivaling hers. Take Leo for example. The women he dated only got younger than Y/n as the years went on and people barely bat an eye.

After the release of her third studio album with CRN, Y/n had a tough decision to make. By that point her last album had more pop than country. The reaction of the fans was pretty much, “You need to just label yourself a pop artist now.” “‘Red’ was literally 90% Pop with 10% Country.” “Stop saying you’re a country music star when the last album you put out was anything but country.”

So…it was safe to say it was time to make the move to a different genre. Thankfully Capitol Records in Los Angeles was ready with the pen in hand to sign Y/n on. There she had creative control on what she put out and Y/n was excited to get started on a new era in her life.

2012 would go down as the year where Y/n was on the edge of her seat with how her career would go. Fans were mixed about her going to pop despite her recent music having mostly pop elements. Then there was the fact she was dating Tyler Hoechlin from Teen Wolf which had fangirls hating her guts for dating their celebrity crush.

What’s sad is Y/n was used to that reception whenever she was in a relationship with a public figure. First Jesse then Tom, Leo, Eddie, and Xavier. Can’t forget the times she got caught on dates with Robert Pattinson, Micheal B. Jordan, and Chris Evans. Then there were the incidents where the paparazzi captured her making out with Sebastian Stan at an after party and leaving the 2011 Grammys with Nate Buzoliac before he made it big as Kol Mikaelson in The Vampire Diaries.

Getting a break was not in the cards for the singer.

When things ended with Tyler in 2015, Y/n told herself she would not date anyone for awhile. Her album ‘1986’ was met with critical acclaim and positive reception from fans, earning her more awards to her growing collection, including the Grammy for Album of the Year. The entire time on tour she focused on having fun and not worrying about what people thought of her. Yeah she still got questions from interviews and hosts about dating she’d simply reply with, “I’m single, and let’s not entertain that further. Next question.”

@ inmyreputationera: I guess @Y/nL/n86 decided romance isn’t exactly her thing. I wonder how that’ll change her music.

@ stanningselenerr: not me checking @ Y/ndatingupdates daily for any new info.

Those were just the handful of tweets Y/n saw everyday on her Twitter feed. It got to the point she’d have to mute notifications whenever she was tagged. While she hated doing so because she loved interacting with fans, the singer needed time away from the constant surveillance of her personal life.

So fast forward to mid-summer of 2018. Y/n hadn’t put out an album in nearly three years nor had she been dating anyone. Yeah people still asked her from time to time though she learned to not let it affect her. Honestly it was a breath of fresh air. She was happy, healthy, and living her best life. Putting her heart and soul into songwriting which was heavily inspired by the reputation she’d garnered since her debut. Not to mention developing closer bonds with her friends and family after making the impulse decision in 2017 to move back to Tennessee. It felt good to be back home. Returning to her roots and the place that started it all after being away for so many years. It was a great time.

Now she was due back to Los Angeles to meet with her manager and producers. Y/n was ready to get back into the studio as much as her fans were telling her they were waiting for new music. With a first-class ticket in hand, Y/n boarded her red-eye flight from Nashville International to LAX and settled in for the five hour flight. It would have them landing at just after 3am Pacific time and while Y/n wanted to rest, she could not for the life of her sleep on a plane.

Approaching her seat Y/n noticed a man in a military uniform seated in the seat beside hers. “Excuse me,” she caught his attention, his head raising where he put two and two together by her hand pointing to the window seat.

“Oh sorry, ma’am,” it took everything in Y/n not to stare at him when he got up. He was very handsome. In his uniform, hazel eyes and sun kissed skin. The most notable feature was his mustache that most men could not pull off yet he seemed to.

“Do you need help with that?” The question pulled her from her mini daydream. He was referring to the carryon bag in her hand.

“Oh I got it—.”

“It’s no problem,” he was already taking the bag from her, securing it in the overhead compartment.

“Thank you so much,” Y/n thanked him while moving into the row, placing her purse in her lap when she sat down. The man returned to his seat just as the next wave of passengers boarded.

Manny, her personal bodyguard who’d been with Y/n since her first tour, was seated in front of her. When they got the tickets he purposely told her to have them separated saying, “I need my beauty sleep and while I love you, you will talk the entire time.” Sure enough when Y/n leaned over to ask him a question Manny was already knocked out, buckled in with his eye mask over his eyes and earbuds in.

Well that left Y/n with little to do. And when she went to retrieve her Kindle she groaned at the realization she forgot to turn back her reading light.

“Everything okay?” She saw the man in her peripheral vision slightly turn his head.

“Yeah just…annoyed with myself. I thought I packed my reading light but I must’ve misplaced it.” God that made her sound like a grandma.

His response was an ‘ah’ sound. “Wish I could help ya there, but I’m not usually equipped with something like that.”

“It’s fine,” she chuckled, buckling in her seatbelt. “It was to pass the time—I can’t sleep on flights. Even though it's midnight and I should feel tired.”

“I’m the same,” he suddenly extended a hand, “I’m Bradley by the way.”

Hesitant to reply in case he were to react to her name, Y/n pushed back any concern and gave a warm smile as she took his hand, “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you, Bradley.”

“Y/n…” her name was repeated slowly, Bradley’s eyes consorting as though they were deep in thought. A wave of dread and nerves coursed through her. Then Bradley grinned, “Oh! I thought you looked familiar. You sing that song—what was it, ‘Love Story?’ Sorry I don’t mean to sound weird,” he let go of her hand when he realized he was still shaking it. “And I don’t want to bother you. I just can’t help but go, ‘wow!’”

“No-no-no, it’s okay! You’re totally fine.” Before long the two fell into conversation following the typical pre-flight announcements. Y/n was amazed by how natural it felt talking to Bradley. She discovered he was a Naval aviator, coming home from an assignment overseas and was flying to L.A to visit some friends. Bradley had been a graduate of UVA and attended the elite Fighter Weapons School, marking ten years with the navy that year.

“Forgive me for admitting this,” he said after the first hour into the flight, lowering his voice when a passenger trying to sleep glared at them. “But while I know who you are…I’m not really familiar with your work. Y-yeah I mentioned your one song but that’s literally all I know,” he laughed nervously. “My taste in music, I’m embarrassed to say aloud, is very limited.”

Y/n tilts her head, “how limited?”

“Uh, I pretty much only listen to the 1950s all the way to the 80s. Dabbling in what’s popular nowadays once in a blue moon. My karaoke songs are all Jerry Lewis” Bradley gives a gentle smile, “And while I can easily do a Google search, I’d much rather hear it from you if you don’t mind telling me.”

What’s that saying again? Oh that’s right, ‘And the rest was history.’

No but literally Y/n could barely contain her attraction to Bradley after he said that to her. She hoped to God she didn’t look like a fool as she spoke of her career and cool places she’s been. Time flew as they talked. In fact the two were so caught up in their conversation they talked the remainder of the journey to L.A, ending with the exchange of phone numbers and the promise to meet up.

It was decided right from the get go that Bradley and Y/n wanted to keep their relationship hidden. Regardless if the one date went somewhere, the last thing Y/n wanted was to have Bradley in the public eye and cause complications with his job. And let’s not forget her album was releasing within the next year. So, there was going to be a lot of attention on her wherever she went.

“The fact we’ve managed to keep this quiet for a year is outstanding,” Y/n said through a mouthful of cake. Bradley had surprised her with her favorite kind, the icing on the top reading, ‘Happy Anniversary, baby—we’ve got them fooled.’

She couldn’t believe they were already marking one year. Time didn’t seem to exist when she was with Bradley. He was everything she envisioned in a partner. Caring, compassionate, funny, intuitive. Listened to her concerns and communicated. Never made her doubt herself or paid attention to the media.

When she brought up her reputation, or better yet the one the press painted her out to have, Bradley stopped her and said, “who you have history with is not my business—unless they did something to hurt you because then I’ll have a problem with them. And those people talking nonsense about you have nothing else better to do with themselves. I care about you, Y/n. The only one who has influence on how I see you, is you. And I see you as the most beautiful, hardworking, intelligent person who knows her worth. Fuck what they say.”

Yeah that night ended with her jumping his bones.

Bradley took a fork full of his own into his mouth, “I for sure thought they were gonna catch us the night I snuck you on base.” After their first meeting in L.A, Bradley had returned to Virginia while Y/n remained to work on her album. It was a couple months before she went home to Tennessee, then for the holidays they planned to meet up when Y/n was on her way to New York. Sneaking her on base involved the two going undercover where they met at a discreet location and having Y/n shove herself under blankets in his backseat.

The singer laughed at the memory, “Thank Goodness for Shania. Had she not posted that photo to ‘tip off’ the paps then we’d have a whole different outcome.” Bradley laughed with her, placing his fork down on the napkin.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for your release day,” Bradley had been called back to Top Gun for a special detachment by the Navy. Unfortunately the timing was right when her sixth studio album would drop. The details were still unclear, but that it was a team mission where he would compete against his colleagues. Y/n had yet to meet any of Bradley’s friends and vice versa. The only people in her circle who knew of their relationship were her manager, Manny, and family. But when you signed up to keep your love life private, it meant friends were lost in the dark.

“It’s okay, Roo,” she told him. “We’ll have our own celebration.” Another cake, this time with the design being the album’s cover art on it, was brought over the day before Bradley was set to fly to San Diego and the two had their private release party with just the two of them. The music was blasting through the speakers, Y/n jumping up and down with Bradley who was singing at the top of his lungs.

“Band-aids don’t fix bullet holes! You say sorry just for show! If you live like that, you live with ghosts!”

“I’m in a getaway car. I left you in a motel bar. Put the money in a bag and I stole the key—that was the last time you ever saw me—Oh!”

“Ooh, look what you made me do! Look what you made me do! Look what you just made me do!”

Champagne was popped, kisses were shared, and they danced the entire night until it came time to sleep.

They FaceTimed whenever Bradley had free time, even if it was in the later hours of the night. Those three weeks Y/n felt her heart long for Bradley in a way it had never done with her previous partners. She felt his excitement, his distress. The day he left for the mission Y/n paced around her home for hours—unable to focus on anything and overcome with nausea. It was as though her mind was trying to tell her something was wrong.

Relief came at around nightfall, the singer tripping as she raced to grab her phone when it rang. Seeing Bradley’s picture pop up had the breath she was holding in release. “Oh thanks God,” was the first thing she said.

“I’m coming back to you,” was his response. Tears pricked in the corner of her eyes, hand going to her chest to calm the rapid beat of her heart.

“I would expect nothing less, Lieutenant Bradshaw.”

Several celebrations were in store for the couple when Bradley returned to the east coast. Not only did he receive a medal from the Navy for his brave actions but got a promotion. Y/n’s album hit #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 in the first hour of its release, prompting a record number of sales in a single night for the singer.

“I’m so proud of you, Bradley,” she praised, patting the new patch on his uniform indicating he was now a Lieutenant Commander. She was met with a sweet kiss on the lips.

“Thank you, baby. I’m proud of you too—you’re gonna win everything come awards season.”

During the 2020 Grammy’s, Bradley leaped from the couch in absolute joy when Y/n’s name was called for the winner of Pop Album of the Year and Record of The Year. She missed out on Album of the Year, but that was okay. She was now the owner of 12 Grammys in total. Coming home the following night Y/n’s home was decorated with balloons, a banner reading, ‘Congratulations!!’ and of course, a cake with an edible Grammy topper.

And so it came time for a break. Six albums in a fifteen-year long career, Y/n kept it under the wraps that she wouldn’t be putting out another album for some time. Fans had started to notice she was more uplifted and vibrant in interviews, posting things on social media that were suspicious. For example she uploaded a photo of red roses, captioning it “the symbol of love.” Then there was the screenshotting of well known love songs and posting them on her story.

@ Y/nstansince04: is it me or does @Y/nL/n86 appear happier than usual? Is she hiding something?

@ getawaycarlover_: @Y/nL/n86 totally has a man or someone in her life. That recent Instagram post had all the hints.

@ fearlessdefender: I bet it’s a normal guy she’s with and not a celebrity. If it was we’d probably would’ve known by now who it was.

@ Y/ns_red_lipstick: honestly if Y/n does have a boyfriend then I’m happy for her and wish them the best. She deserves to be happy and we should respect their privacy. She doesn’t have to share with the world if it’s their desire to keep it secret.

Right when the world went to chaos at the brink of a global pandemic, Y/n thought, “you know what, I’m gonna just delete my social media—not my accounts but the apps on my phone. I want to go off the grid for a bit and just enjoy my family and boyfriend.” Not having the constant shadow of social media on her back made it easier for the singer on the break she desired.

Everyday she fell more in love with Bradley. She had been visiting him when quarantine happened so they basically went to the next step in their relationship by living together. Again, it all felt natural. They settled into a domestic life with each other early on with homemade dinners, movie nights, nerf gun wars, and karaoke contests. Bradley on the piano and Y/n with her guitar, being each other’s act and audience in their private concert.

“You shake my nerves and you rattle my brain. Too much love drives a man insane. You broke my will, but what a thrill. Goodness gracious, great balls of fire!”

“Romeo take me somewhere we can be alone. I’ll be waiting, all there’s left to do is run. You’ll be the prince and I’ll be the princess. It’s a love story, baby just say, ‘Yes!’”

Late nights were reserved for drives with the speakers blasting. Y/n camera roll would be filled with endless videos of the two, but mostly of Bradley jamming to his favorite songs. More often than usual the thought of, “I’m gonna marry this man,” would cross her mind.

“You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. You ain’t nothin’ but a hound dog. Cryin’ all the time. Well, you ain’t never caught a rabbit and you ain’t no friend of mine!”

Y/n would lean her body out the window when it was a clear road where they were the only ones, hair blowing and the light from the moon shining down on her. Her beautiful voice carried in the night sky, Bradley in absolute awe of her and wanting to capture the moment forever.

“I came home in the mornin’ light—my mother says, ‘when you gonna live your life right?’ Oh momma dear, we’re not the fortunate ones. And girls, they wanna have fun. Oh girls just wanna have fun!”

But was supposed to be maybe two years at most…..ended up being close to five.

Honestly Y/n was surprised to still have fans. To say they were shitting bricks when she out of the blue dropped a cover art for her upcoming single, ‘Love’ would be an understatement. They were losing their fucking minds.

@ Y/nwhereforartthou: IS THIS REALLY HAPPENING OH MY FUCKING SHIT! PLEASE TELL ME THIS AINT A JOKE Y/N IS COMING BACK AFTER FIVE FUCKING YEARS

@ stilladirectionerbby: *insert Micheal Scott gif* OH MY GOD IT’S HAPPENING—Y/N’S RELEASING NEW MUSIC

@ MTV: when all hope was lost, our prayers were answered….by @Y/nL/n86

Then she announced in the same week they were getting not one but two albums that year.

@ themadalorianswife: TWO ALBUMS?!?! WE GETTING TWO?!?! GOD FUCKING BLESS

@ daddyisastateofmind: oh mother is spoiling us after making us wait so long and I absolutely am here for it.

@ neveroutofstyle_: love how @Y/nL/n86 basically said “this is my sorry for falling off the face of the earth, please forgive me.” On behalf of the fandom, we forgive you queen.

And wanna know something else?

What was even more impressive than becoming a ghost for five years with little to no sightings by the paparazzi, was that she and Bradley had yet to be discovered. Her lover was just as good of a ghost as she was. Their secret was like trying to find the Holy Grail.

Hidden like a treasure the world desired to unearth.

And on their six year anniversary, Bradley got them the same cake as the first time he did. The icing reading, "Happy 7 years, baby—we’ve totally got them fooled.”

…………….

TGM Tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan , @caitsymichelle13 , @poppyalice2001 , @cutelittlepotatofry , @luckyladycreator2 , @americaarse , @elenavampire21 , @back-tooo-black , @wildellaa , @artemissunn , @pinkpantheris

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alterchaos · 2 months

Text

IN THE SHADOW OF DOUBT

After an entire month of searching, the girl with the golden hair remains missing. Sonic seeks answers from a source he can trust...

PREVIOUS CHAPTER: THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL

NEXT CHAPTER: ESCAPE: PRISON ISLAND

The billboard television buzzed on, revealing a woman in a newsroom.

“Good evening, Station Square. This is Scarlet Garcia reporting live from station SWA-08 regarding the disappearance of young Evelyn Thorndyke a little over a month ago.” Her picture appeared next to the reporter, “Joining me is her father, the famous Nelson Thorndyke, son of the well-loved philanthropist Charles ‘Chuck’ Thorndyke, whose corporation generously donated billions in the repair of our beloved city after the devastating flood just a couple months prior.” The camera panned to show a middle-aged man, worn and disheveled from countless nights without sleep, “How are you today, Mr. Thorndyke?”

“My daughter is still missing, Ms. Garcia…How well can a father in my position be?”

The reporter startled, having not expected such a blunt response, “R-Right…I can only imagine how frustrating the situation may seem given your tireless efforts to find her…”

No comment.

She decided to change the subject, “Mr. Thorndyke, we invited you onto our show today to address the growing concern among the public surrounding your…rather vocal decry of the Hero of Station Square. Do you really believe he was the one to kidnap your daughter and, if so, what would be his reason?”

Nelson’s eyes narrowed, “The facts of the attack are clear. She was harmed and taken by a ‘super-speed hedgehog’ who ran from the law when confronted. Does any of that sound innocent to you?”

“N-No but-”

The businessman began to rise, “Then allow me to say this.” He looked into the camera with vengeance, “Sonic the Hedgehog…I know you’re watching. I will not rest. I will not give up until you return my daughter and are brought to justice for your crimes. I will spare no expense until I see this through. You have my word on that.”

“Sir, what about the rumors surrounding your company’s involvement with-”

The hedgehog in question tuned out the rest of the broadcast, perched safely within the cover of a park tree. He couldn’t handle it, the weight of the various accusations alongside his own failure as a hero. That day in the school yard played in his mind yet again, his heart dropping with guilt.

Had he only arrived just a few minutes sooner…

He put a hand to his head, brushing his disheveled bangs back out of his tired eyes as he contemplated what to do next. This wasn’t the time for regrets, not when she could still be in serious danger.

He needed a plan.

He needed help.

Thankfully, he knew exactly where he could turn…

He hoped.

—----------------------------------------------------------

Sonic landed on a branch near a window, hidden from all by the foliage surrounding him thankfully, in part, due to the darkness of the night that had fallen. He peered inside, taking note of the trio of friends discussing something with much distress, the earlier interview pulled up on a monitor. Eventually, the fox broke away and made his way to a nearby computer, furiously searching for some kind of answer while the pink hedgehog and human boy continued talking. Sonic smiled tiredly, having missed his friends in the month he was away.

Hopefully, they would believe him.

If not…

Sonic took a deep and shaky breath, inching his way towards the window pane. He gently knocked on it with his knuckles.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tails continued running his data search on the attic’s computer, though his ear twitched slightly at the noise. Amy, on the other hand, turned fully towards the window where Sonic was now waving sheepishly, offering a small yet nervous smile in tandem. She gasped, saying something muffled by the pane before the other two friends turned their heads to look, equally surprised. Tails nearly knocked the chair he’d been sitting in over as he scrambled to the window, opening it and staring at his brother.

“Tails…I…I-I didn’t-”

Tails threw his arms around his brother before he had a chance to finish.

“Like I would believe any of that! I’m just happy you’re okay, Sonic!”

Sonic watched with wide, watery eyes as his other two friends approached.

“Me neither! You didn’t do anything wrong! Chris told us what really happened.”

“I keep trying to tell my father but he won’t listen. Nobody will, given the facts of the case.”

“Tanaka believes us though. The only reason we weren’t arrested after questioning is because he swore to keep surveillance on us, which basically means we’re just stuck in the mansion until things blow over.”

“H-How are you holding up? Wh-Where did you even go? Why-!?”

The fox froze as the hedgehog slumped into his arms, a few tears rolling down his cheeks with each shaky breath as the weight of his anxiety and suffering hit him.

His friends…

They believed him…

They really believed him…

“Woah! Hey! I’ve got you…”

“Bring him inside!”

“He’s really warm…”

“I’ll get him some water and a snack!”

“Get him a blanket too!”

Chris nodded, disappearing down the stairs.

“I-I…I don’t know what to sa-”

“You don’t need to say anything! Just sit down and take a moment to rest. You look like you need it. Then we can talk.”

Sonic nodded, plopping down onto a nearby beanbag, quickly being overrun by his fatigue on the soft, pillowy surface.

Maybe…if he shut his eyes for just a moment…

Only…

a…

moment…

…

—----------------------------------------------------

It was still dark when the hedgehog stirred from his nap, now wrapped with care in the folds of a soft blanket. He slowly opened his eyes, focusing his vision on the trio chatting amongst themselves enthusiastically. Tails had seemingly found what he’d been searching for earlier, showing off a series of documents as well as charts to the other two. He paused, looking at his older brother with a smile as he noticed his awakened state.

“Hey sleepyhead. Feel better?”

“Y-Yeah…” Sonic sat up, holding his head slightly, “How long was I out?”

“A few hours.”

“Here.” Chris handed the groggy hedgehog a juice box and some crackers, “You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“...I haven’t.”

Everyone watched with concern as their despondent friend took the food. Clearly he’d been pushing himself too hard these past few weeks, no doubt to try and save their missing friend plastered over every news station.

Tails sat down next to his brother, offering a shoulder for him to lean on, “Where did you go this past month?”

Sonic tried to remain strong on his own but eventually gave in, leaning against his brother for support as he ate, “...Everywhere.”

“Everywhere?”

“I searched the entire planet for her…every inch…three times over…”

Amy gasped, “Three times over?”

Tails pushed further, “And?”

Sonic dropped his head in defeat, “Nothing. There was no sign of her.” He clenched the juice box in his hands, causing it to crinkle slightly beneath his frustrated grip.

“...Just as I suspected.”

“Huh?”

Sonic looked at his now-standing brother with wide eyes.

“A government satellite reentered orbit after being out of commission for the past 50 years.”

“Okaaay…How exactly does that help us?”

“Because it did so the exact day of Eve’s kidnapping.”

“-!!?!”

Sonic jolted onto his feet, nearly tripping over himself as he scrambled to the computer where his little brother had pulled up multiple news articles.

“Check this out! ‘Space Colony Ark reenters orbit after abandonment by G.U.N. 50 years prior.’ The station was said to be home to a deadly experiment known as ‘Project Shadow’ that killed everyone on board, the scientists as well as their families.”

“So?”

“I’m getting to that.” Tails shook his head playfully at his brother’s signature impatience, “The project was headed by G.U.N scientist, Gerald Robotnik, who is quoted to have taken up the position ‘in order to heal my beloved granddaughter of her incurable illness’.”

“That’s great and all, Tails, but what does this have to do with Eve?”

“Take a look at this…” Tails pulled up a picture on his screen of a blonde girl in a blue gown. Sonic’s eyes went wide.

She…

She looked exactly like…

“Eve!?”

“No, though I thought so at first too. This is Gerald Robotnik’s granddaughter. Her name was Maria…”

Chris stepped forward, arms crossed, “Which is exactly what that hedgehog kept calling my little sister as he…” He trailed off, unable to finish that statement.

“It’s a bit of a stretch, but I’m willing to bet that dark hedgehog Chris encountered is related to this ‘Project Shadow’. My guess is that he kidnapped Eve believing her to be this ‘Maria Robotnik’ girl from the colony.”

“And that’s exactly where we’ll find her then!” Sonic smiled.

Amy stepped forward, “But according to the published articles, everyone died right? So then…”

“Right. That leaves one question…” Tails’s expression fell gravely serious.

“...Who’s running this project now and why?”

Sonic raced towards the window, “Does that matter? We have our destination so let’s g-”

“I wouldn’t move if I were you.”

Sonic froze, an armored figure from outside aiming their gun at him. A large “G” decorated the front of their vest. Similarly dressed agents emerged from the attic door, surrounding the quartet of friends, all with guns pointed directly at them. A couple lunged forward, detaining Chris on the floor and out of the line of fire.

“HEY!! LET ME GO!!!”

“Stay down Chris.”

The disheveled S-Squad leader emerged into the attic alongside the agents, his older brother emerging alongside him.

“Dad!?”

The businessman ignored his son, approaching the cornered hedgehog with fury. With a snap of his finger, the hedgehog was restrained. He struggled against the agents in his tired state, ready for a fight until…

clack

Everyone paused as one of the agents held the barrel of his gun to the young boy’s head.

Chris’s eyes went wide.

“Hey! Wh-What are you-!!” The agents stepped in the way of the erratic racecar driver.

Nelson froze.

“Stand down, hedgehog. Your choice.”

Without hesitation, Sonic raised his arms, surrendering to the agents. He was cuffed and taken away without another word, his friends similarly taken into custody for intense questioning.

Nelson grabbed the commander’s arm as he began to leave.

“What was that?”

“We neutralized the threat, Mr. Thorndyke. That was why you hired us, is it not.”

“It is but-”

“Then you will do well to not interfere in the affairs of the government, Mr. Thorndyke.” He pulled his arm away, stopping one last time before the attic door, “Be sure to teach that lesson to your son if you know what’s good for him.”

And then he was gone.

“Well that got out of hand…”

The businessman clenched his fist.

“You really still believe he’s guilty?”

Nelson jolted slightly, not daring to look at his younger brother behind him, “...Don’t tell me you don’t. The facts of the case are clear, Sam.”

The racecar driver pointed an accusational finger at his older brother, “Whose facts!? Sure, she was kidnapped by a super-speed hedgehog, but who’s to say there isn’t another! Stranger things have happened since Sonic and his friends arrived on our world. Who’s to say this isn’t some kind of conspir-”

“You sound like my son.”

“Maybe your son has a point! Have you even bothered to listen to his side of the story!?”

“...He experienced a great deal of trauma that day. The doctors were clear in their assessment. He’ll do anything to justify his friend’s innocence even if it means living in some hysterical delusion.”

“Is he the one being hysterical for believing in someone who’s gone out of his way time and time again to save us, or is it the man who’s hired some wack-job government agency to prove his delusions true at any cost!?”

“...”

“Listen, Nelson…I followed along at first because I, too, was fueled by my anger and shock. Even so, I still just wanted to get to the bottom of things. I thought that if my team could capture Sonic, we could either get the truth out of him or work with him to find her quickly. It’s no secret that he cares about this family. Even you can’t deny that after what you saw here today.”

“You’re only saying that because you finally found a rival worth racing.”

Sam frowned, offering a hand on his brother’s shoulder as he tried one last time to break through to him, “Nelson…I know you’re desperate to bring her home, but maybe it’s time to accept that you don’t have all the answers and put your faith in those around you. We all want what’s best here.”

“...”

“Think about it.”

Sam headed for the attic door.

“Wait…where are you going?”

“With luck…” Sam turned his head, “...off to set things right.”

Nelson stared at his younger brother, frozen in place as he flashed a cocky grin.

“The question is…are you with me?”

The businessman hesitated.

“I-I…”

CHAPTER END

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sunshiline-writes · 6 months

Text

A Rose Amidst Thorns #16: On Being Human

This chapter is a bit of a break chapter, mostly dialogue and a bit of some character backstory teehee. Hope you enjoy!! CW: lady whump, POC whump, references to abuse, references to past murder, domestic abuse, drowning, water torture, past torture mention, Henriettas fucked up inner monologue lmfao

word count: 3k Previous | Masterlist | Next

There were times where silence was calming, a necessary break from the horrors of the day. Then there were times where the silence was soul consuming. The lack of sound was festering in the house like a poison. It was killing her. Henrietta was sure that she was going crazy.

Xavier barely talked to her and when he did it was short clipped answers and questions. He used to at least talk to her. He left the house early and came back late. It was like he was trying to stay away. Perhaps he was waiting until he was less angry. If he was less angry, he’d be less likely to kill her. But she didn’t even get to see or talk to Solomon.

He’d gotten over his sickness a week ago, according to Xavier. He was up and moving, but she’d only seen glimpses of him, slipping in the house. Walking past doorways. Solomon had healed nicely, though his left cheek now had a permanently sunken look. He still had bruises all over his face, his eye was still swollen. But he was alive and that was what mattered. Besides, what would Xavier do without his resident doctor?

They had met gazes once, when she was outside hanging the laundry. He had left the house and he turned and they stared at each other. It was just a moment but it was enough. Solomon didn’t blame her, he didn’t blame anyone. She could see it written on his face. It made her heart hurt less at least. To known she wasn’t blamed this time. But she missed him. Missed the gentle camaraderie that they had with each other. Henrietta missed her friend.

She even missed Miguel. Even when all he would do was sit at the table and watch her as she cooked dinner. He was always making noise despite everything. His hands tapping on the table, or his foot tapping on the wooden floor. He even made noise when he spoke with his hands, noises escaping his mouth. But he’d been banished back to the hayloft in the barn. She hadn’t seen him in nearly three weeks. Not even a glimpse. She half expected that Xavier had actually killed him, dumped his body in a ditch and left him there to rot.

A few days ago, she had gathered the courage to ask.

“Is he alive? Miguel?”

Xaviers answer was plain and simple, “Yes. The mutt is alive. Don’t ask again.”

Henrietta did not ask again. She wouldn’t. She was afraid that Miguel would suffer the consequences. Miguel had suffered enough. He had especially suffered enough at the fault of Henrietta. She did not want to be the cause of his suffering anymore. It was too much guilt. It was all too much guilt and it was also the fact that she had no interest in changing her actions. She did not have remorse for asking Solomon to braid her hair or for killing Terrance three years ago. She had no interest in trying to change her past actions. The past was done, it could not be undone. All she had left was to finish the song she started.

The song wasn’t finished. Her song was not finished. Even as she swept the floor, her song was still here. This was just a single note in a long song. All she had to do was keep playing. One note at a time, one day at a time. Henrietta was going to escape. All she had to do now was wait. There would be an opportunity, a rest in the song. A mistake that Xavier would make. All she had to do was utilize it.

So Henrietta swept the floor, cringing when the door slammed open. The sounds of a scuffle. She stopped, broom in her hands. Half ready to use it to hit someone if she needed to. Instead, all she saw was Xavier dragging Jesse inside by the collar of his shirt, throwing him forward.

“I am not going to tell you again Jesse, fucking bathe. Pinche kid, you smell.”

“Xavier please,” Jesse begged quietly, stepping backwards. “I don’t want to. You know I don’t want to. I’ll use a cloth, I’ll do whatever just don’t put me in the water again.”

The boys eyes were wild, searching for a way out. There were few times she ever saw him truly terrified. Each time, it was when Xavier was around. She’d known Jesse since Xavier took him in almost fifteen years ago. It was near when they met and he always struggled with getting Jesse to bathe. He was like a feral street dog who did everything in its power not to touch the water. She never quite knew why.

Usually Xavier let him do as he pleased, he’d go weeks and sometimes even months without even a wet cloth touching his skin. He always smelled like shit and there were times it got so bad she swore he stunk up anything he touched too. The little shit was always dirty, grimy, filthy. It was why she hated that he had taken to Miguel in the way he did. She feared it would rub off on him. Luckily, it did not.

Right now, she only felt contempt as Xavier grabbed him by the hair and started to drag him to the bathroom. Henrietta had filled it earlier, assuming it was for Xavier or Solomon. Now she knew exactly who it was for. The water was cold by now she thought idly. Following them to the bathroom out of sheer curiosity.

Xavier dragged him to the bathroom, Jesse kicking and screaming the entire way. So much so that his voice cracked when they finally made it through the doorway. Henrietta didn’t follow them in, she watched from the hallway. Her heart raced, wondering if this would be the mood he would be in all day. If he came to bed like this, she was sure she would have more bruises than usual.

The scene before her was hard to look away from. Xavier started with tearing Jesse’s shirt off, literally tearing it (Henrietta would have to mend that later).

“Get in Jesse.”

“You fucking get in,” came the kids reply.

“Jesse,” Xavier started, tone terse, strained. “You won’t go to town like that. Fucking bathe.”

“Then I just won’t go to town, Tio please.”

“I won’t ask again,” Xavier said finally. Henrietta could hear the coldness in his voice. There was nowhere for Jesse to run. He was pressed up against the wall, shaking his head. His whole body was shivering. Xavier sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he reached out and grabbed Jesse by the throat, effortlessly bringing him to the edge of the tub. Then he shoved Jesse into it. Xavier’s nephew screamed and clawed at the edges of the tub. Splashing water everywhere. Xavier used his other hand to shove the boy's head under, silencing him for the moment.

Henrietta swallowed thickly, fear churning in her gut. Everything around her seemed to fade out as she watched, white knuckled grip on the broom. Jesse’s struggles would cease, Xavier would bring his head up from the water, Jesse would wheeze and cough, and then the cycle would start again. It wasn’t until Jesse stopped struggling completely, that Xavier hauled him out of the water, depositing him on the ground. He turned around to face Henrietta, eyes dark.

He strolled toward her, soaked from Jesse’s thrashing, “Make sure he gets up. Solomon and I are going for a supply run in town. There are some men stationed out at the entrance and outside the house and barn. Don’t run. Don’t even try. You’ll never make it.” Then he walked past her, bumping her shoulder. When he reached the end of the hallway, he stopped, speaking again, “Do you want anything from town?”

Hen found it hard to speak, but she swallowed the fear and did so, “Oranges, if they have them.”

Xavier nodded, sighing softly. “I’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon.” Then he left.

She did not move until she heard the front door close. The tension in the air melted as soon as it did. Hen sagged her shoulders and leaned against the wall for a moment. Taking in a deep breath. She glanced at the bathroom door. Listening to the choked sobs from inside the room.

Henrietta really did not want to go in there. She had nothing to say to the sociopath of a man. One that so effortlessly and constantly hurt and burdened someone she cared about. Yet, she forced herself to move. Gathering a towel and making her way up to Jesse’s room to get some clothes. Then she forced herself every step down the stairs and through the hallway. She forced herself through the doorway.

There was water all over the floor, probably ruining the wooden flooring. Jesse laid in a corner curled into a ball back towards her. The brand on his lower back was clear as day and she winced at the memory of her own. She laid the towel and clothes on the counter. Henrietta didn’t know that he had been branded. That was reserved for people that belonged to Xavier completely. The brand was a symbol of ownership.

“You have a brand,” she said idly, smoothing out the creases of the towel.

There was no response to her, there were only a few sniffles from him as he shifted further away from her. Henrietta was too tired to deal with this. Slowly, she gathered the towel and leaned over the boy. There were fading scars of a whip, cutting through the array of freckles across his back. It seemed that even Jesse was not immune to the wrath of Xavier. Henrietta always assumed that he was safe from the worst of it. Now, seeing him curled on the floor like this, it seemed that she had been proven wrong.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked the shivering mass on the floor. Jesse was still dripping wet, shaking furiously. She never knew anyone who feared water as much as him. She was surprised he would even drink water when he did.

“Fuck.. off..” Jesse growled.

“I brought a towel. Figured you might want to get dry.”

A beat of silence and then he turned around to face her from the floor. He forced himself to move, stretching out a hand with weird, choppy movements. Henrietta held it from him.

“Why do you hate water so much?”

“Give me the towel.”

“Answer the question and I might.”

Jesse stared up at her for a moment, his eyes red from tears. He bit his lip and forced himself to sit up with a low groan and a cough. He pressed his back against the wall and licked his lips. Preparing himself for what he was going to say. His mouth opened and closed a few times. Probably debating whether being dry was worth talking about whatever it was that scared him so much.

“Water makes people decay slower,” Jesse whispered, voice hoarse now for a reason Henrietta couldn’t fathom. “It also makes people bloated and weird. They turn blue. She was blue. And I tried to get her out of the water and she was too heavy.”

“Who was?”

“It also, it also makes skin slippery, like, like,” he paused, a glazed over look in his eyes for a moment, “like when you skin a rabbit. It feels like that. Raw and, and, it falls apart when you give it too much force.”

“Jesse,” Henrietta said gently, “It’s okay, you can stop now.”

“She fell apart in my hands. The water.. It had pieces of her floating around when-” “Jesse stop.”

“My mother died in the bath. In the water.”

Henrietta gently placed the towel in his hands. Tears were streaming down his face and he let out another choked sob. Burying his face in it. It muffled the sounds and Henrietta couldn’t help but feel grateful.

“There’s dry clothes on the counter. I’ll make you something to eat.”

Jesse lifted his head, staring her down.

“Why? Why are you helping me?”

Henrietta stood up straighter, chewing on the inside of her cheek. Was there a proper way to answer that? Not really. She sighed softly.

“You’re only human Jesse. You’re such a filthy little rapist, who likes hurting people for fun. But you’re still just human.”

Jesse stared at her, but she turned around and started to walk, stopping in the doorway.

“And your uncle told me to make sure you get up,” she said, then she stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

___

It wasn’t until later that Jesse came out of the bathroom, dry and in the clothes she had brought for him. He sat himself at the kitchen table, eyes having a far away look to them. Henrietta handed him a mug of tea that she made, sipping some herself. She leaned against the counter, watching him carefully.

“Did.. Did you ever meet her? My mother?”

Henrietta nearly spit out her drink. Staring him down. She did meet her once. Ximena had the signature green eyes of the Reede family. Dark hair that waved slightly, but it was tied in a ponytail. Her face was sunken in and her eyes were dark. Ximena never really looked well, the few times they spoke. She was quiet in nature, always smiling. Henrietta knew she was sickly, she hadn’t expected the extent. Half the time Ximena was bed bound, the other half, she spent with migraines that rendered her useless. Jesse was a lively little thing, the little energy Ximena did have, was spent trying to control her son.

“I did a few times. She was a very kind woman,” Henrietta answered finally. It was a wonder that Ximena gave birth to the little demon that sat in front of her.

“She was,” Jesse agreed, looking up at Henrietta. He took a sip of his tea, hands shaking still. His breathing was a bit wheezy too. Probably from the water in his lungs.

“Breathe in the steam. I think I heard Solomon say once that it’s supposed to help.”

Jesse, surprisingly complied, breathing in the tea’s steam with a few ragged coughs. He settled after a moment, frowning for a moment. “Did you know my dad?”

“No. I didn’t. That was before I met your uncle. Maybe Solomon knows more about him.”

“Oh.. that’s right.”

“Why are you suddenly asking me questions about your parents? You’ve never asked before.” After running a hand through his hair and fidgeting slightly in his seat, Jesse shrugged a bit. Staring into the brown color of the tea. After a minute, his voice was quiet, the quietest she ever heard, barely above a whisper.

“He never lets me ask. Never lets me talk about her either. He’s not here.. so I thought I would ask,” he paused, eyes glassy, “while I have the chance you know.”

She found herself dumbfounded at the sudden vulnerability that she was confronted with from Jesse of all people. Jesse the boy who skinned a racoon that was found in the barn, who raped Miguel on his seventeenth birthday, who beat a man half to death in a bar in town, was asking about his parents in a childlike manner. Jesse was here with her, acting human. Perhaps, Jesse would be more likable if he acted more human. If he were like this all the time, she could almost bear his company. Humans had feelings, regrets. They felt sadness and fear. If they showed it more, maybe people would get along better. That was probably just a rude sense of optimism, getting in the way of seeing who Jesse really was.

“Why did he brand you?” she found herself asking, her hand ghosting over her own brand on the middle of her chest. Jesse winced and took another sip of his tea. “When did that happen?”

“A while ago. I was eighteen, so about five years ago? You were out of town visiting your dad I think. When he was dyin’.. I wanted to leave. The ranch. I wanted to join the military.”

Henrietta had to keep herself from barking out a laugh. She couldn’t imagine Jesse in the military. Or maybe she could. Him with a rifle in his hand, shooting at people. Yeah… she could picture that. Maybe it would have been good for him. Give him some real structure.

“I assume Xavier wasn’t happy with that.”

The laugh that came out of him nearly startled her. It was dry and humorless. He shook his head. “Nah.. he beat me within an inch of my fuckin’ life. Hit me until I begged him to stop. Then he strung me up in the barn. Like you in the kitchen. Took out the whip. Fucked me up real good. Then he branded me. Said it was a reminder or somethin’. I dunno. It was fucked. Solomon helped. I begged him not to tell. It’s embarrassin’.”

“Jesse,” Henrietta said softly. God, why was she starting to pity him? This fucking kid with his red hair, who was sadistic in nature. Why was there room in herself for pity? He was just like his uncle. But he also could have been different. Maybe if Xavier hadn’t taken him in after his mother died, if he’d let him join the military, who would this kid be? He’d be unrecognizable.

“Don’ fuckin’ do that. Don’t pity me. I don’ need it. I don’ want it either. Fuck off.”

“I am not pitying you Jesse. I’m just realizing something.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” he said, standing up, tea forgotten on the table. Cold now probably. His hands were flat on the table, snarl curling his lip.

“You could have been a normal human once. But your uncle ruined that. Like he ruins everything. He likes his control over you. Over all of us. You’re just as trapped as we are.”

Jesse stared at her, eyes downcast as he stared at the table. His jaw was working. He looked more tired than angry. But he grabbed the cup of tea and threw it off the table, letting it fall to the ground with a crash. Then he stormed out of the house.

Henrietta let out the breath she was holding.

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strangecowplant · 2 months

Note

Hello, regarding your cat, I wasn't able to read everything this is kinda rushed because I've had a long day, but do you need more money at the moment?

Also I'm a vet but like, in France, so I'm always shocked at the prices (in my area this kind of emergency would amount to like, around 300€, maybe 500€ if there's a repeat)!

Also, on a medical standpoint, were the vets able to know the origin of the blockage? Was it urinary stones, or stress? In my experience this kind of blockage has a tendency to become chronic in some cases if proper precautions are not taken! I wouldn't mind giving advice if you want, you can PM me I'll do my best to help and translate as accurately as possible.

Hi thank you so much for your concern, and I hope you're able to relax now! At the moment I have no idea if I need more money, its up in the air what the cost will be when i get there later today, I've still yet to even talk to my vet for a full update as he's been in and out of surgeries today but thank you so so much for asking!!! ❤️ I'll try and keep the main post as updated as possible once I get any news about costs or anything

But yeah the pricing is absolutely horrible here, theres no regulation and the cost of living is already debilitating enough, people who try save up funds for their pets have it wiped out from even the simplest vistis (their annual vaccinations are about $300, its hard to save much with that hit every year)

As for the cause, we aren't sure. Its unlikely to be stress related as hes an extremely chill and happy cat, nothing has changed with his lifestyle, his brother doesn't stress him out and all my animals are very close and loving to one another. The house usually is super quiet and relaxed too, him running around playing is usually the most noise the house gets! I can't think of a single time before this he was ever stressed aside from the normal wariness of being at the vet for vaccines/when he got neutered. Its also unlikely its from dehydration bc he's very good at drinking (he likes to have the tap water whenever i go into the bathroom, but he also happily drinks from any of the bowls around the house) and i feed them wet food mixed with some dry daily.

They didn't find any stones but the blockage was caused by struvite crystals, in fact they were able to pull one blockage out that was a milky mucousy stringy glob before his first catheter was put in. I also pulled 3 or 4 small ones the day before yesterday after noticing he was blocked and trying to do anything in my power to dispel them since I had no means to get him the help he needed then. His urinalysis came back positive for struvite but also mentioned the amount was 'few', he had no bacteria present and his ph was 6.5, theres maybe a chance he had a uti and dispelled the bacteria before they got a sample? Though I didnt notice any signs before that he was having issues. The lab notes mention the results fit with FLUTD/idiopathic cystitis but I really have no clue how or why, it was brought on so suddenly and he ate the exact same things as his brother who's fine (i will be swapping to a preventative food for his brother though because I'm now just petrified of it happening to him too) I suppose theres a chance its just genetic or random :/

Thank you for your help though, I'll definitely take you up on your offer and pm you! I have some questions I'd really like some advice on from a different vet

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bmodiwrites · 2 years

Text

A Faded Pair of Levi 505's

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson Rating: Explicit (E) Notes: So, a long time ago @harringtonisms challenged me to a soulmate troupe that I really enjoyed. I wrote up this little drabble here but I thought it'd be cool to flesh it out & change things up. This is what I ended up putting together. I'm thinking it's the first of three in a series. Here's hoping you guys enjoy. Word Count: ~6.5k Warnings: There's a brief mention of child ab*se & violence, but it's super minor. I tried to keep it light hearted without taking away some of the needed drama. Summary:

The world is a black and white place until a person meets their soulmate. The mark on their right wrist helps to narrow down the search and for Steve it's a burden. The words are vulgar, yes, but an unkept promise, too. Eddie's heard the ones on his wrist so much that he's given up the search - they're meaningless when the whole world speaks them. Things change one afternoon when Eddie is hot under the collar and looking for a fight. Tapping Steve Harrington on the shoulder makes the world the brightest, most beautiful thing Eddie's ever seen. Read to find out what happens when Steve & Eddie do their best to deny their feelings and push their soul bond away. Will Steve make it when the symptoms of soul sickness set in?

Or, a sorry attempt at a soulmate fic!

Read it on A03 here!

Steve never expected to meet his soulmate on a Wednesday afternoon. He was treading the line between a migraine and overstimulation when the tone in the room changed. Not wanting to get himself involved, Steve kept his head down and continued to eat. He didn’t even look up when Robin nudged him with her shoulder. The food in front of him was much more important than anything causing so much commotion. His mind was already thinking about the couple of chapters he needed to read to prepare himself for his next class. If he ate fast enough, he’d have just enough time to get them done.

Those thoughts were quickly wiped away at the feeling of a strong hand on his shoulder. Steve gasped at the contact, turning quickly in his seat to swat away the fingers digging into his skin. Looking up at just the right moment, Steve’s entire world shifted.

Never one to think much about soulmates, Steve didn’t worry about the fact that his color vision hadn’t set in. For a brief moment, Steve thought Nancy might’ve been the one. The distinct lack of color, both when they first met and well into their relationship, cured Steve of that crush once and for all. Having someone call him and his love bull shit didn’t help much, either. Still, his mind hadn’t strayed to the concept of having an other half for quite some time – there were more important things than the tacky “holy shit!” that covered his right wrist. Steve even wore a band around it more often than not to make sure no one saw the expletive. Of course, shit like that came when a person least expected it and Steve, he was the furthest from being ready or able to deal with the sudden realization of his soulmate.

Grimacing, because he truly didn’t like the way the whole situation was playing out, Steve said the first thing that came to mind. “You’re a freak, Munson.” He couldn’t hear how loud he said the words or the tone they came out in, but the look on Eddie’s face registered. In fact, everything about the other boy’s face became crystal clear as the world shifted from black and white to red and blue all over. Losing a sense was already overwhelming – Steve struggled to deal with the distinct lack of noise in his life on a minute to minute basis. The shock of gaining one shouldn’t have come as such a surprise, yet Steve found himself rocked to the core, nonetheless. The heat of being disturbed dissipated as Eddie stared at him, as the color of Robin’s hair became something lighter than Steve ever imagined.

Another second of silence passed while Steve tried to tighten his resolve. He was seconds away from saying something a bit more meaningful when Eddie said something too fast for Steve to lip read and walked away.

Quick as a flash, Steve turned to Robin and signed “what did he say?”

Robin took a second to think before smirking, a look of enjoyment in her eyes. Raising her hands, Robin signed back “he called you an asshole.” She looked so satisfied by her ability to sign something crude that Steve didn’t correct any of her other hand signs. He got the gist of it, anyway.

#steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #bobbie writes #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson/steve harrington #steddie fics #steddie fanfic #a faded pair of levi 505's

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rey-jake-therapist · 1 year

Text

Sweetbitter Fanfic update: Lost Souls Chapter 7

Chapter 6 is here.

Summary:

In 1996, Jake was eight lived in Cape Cod with his mother. Simone and her parents lived next door and knew Jake since he was a baby. One day, his mother went for a swim and never came back...

Notes:

Trigger WARNING: there are explicit mentions to suicide and grooming in this chapter. A bit of trivia: In the book Sweetbitter as in the show, very little is known from the circumstances in which Jake's mother died, except that it wasn't an accident. In the show, Jake says his mother went for a swim and never came back... I just give my very free interpretation of what might have happened! The hiccups: in the book, Jake can't handle hiccups because as Simone explains to Tess, it gives him the feeling that he can't breathe, a leftover from the trauma left by the death of his mother. It doesn't stop Tess from finding him ridiculous. Dat b*tch (sorry).

Cape Cod, Summer 1996

This summer was crazy hot. Tourists flocked to Cape Cod to enjoy the beaches and the chillness of the ocean, leaving no room for the locals who pestered against the newcomers. For the rest of the world, the peninsula was an earthly paradise that inspired writers, painters and musicians; for Jake and most of those who lived there, it was just the same old Cape, their home. Jake used to love living here. He would go fishing and hunt for oysters with his father early in the morning, and could spend hours searching for the prettiest seashells when there weren't too many tourists on the beach. Sometimes, he and his parents went to Provincetown and took a boat to try and catch the sight of a dolphin or a whale. Jake saw a family of dolphins once; they seemed to dance in front of him before diving back in the water with a cheerful laugh. He thought of them sometimes, when he felt sad, which happened way too often these days.

Stuck with his mother between a couple who kept hugging and kissing, and a noisy family of four, Jake put his Tom Sawyer book down, a deep sigh of boredom coming loudly out of his mouth. He looked down at his mother, who, sunbathing, lay on her towel beside him, her eyes half closed.

“Mum, can we go home now?” The little boy asked.

“Go home so you can vegetate in front of the television for the rest of the day? No way, we’re staying,” his mother responded absentmindedly.

“But it’s been two hours! I’m so bored!”

"Why not take a dip in the water?”

“I’ve already been swimming,” Jake protested.

“Then read your book!”

This time, his mother's voice carried a tinge of irritation. It seemed to be the case almost every time he asked her something, assuming she even bothered to respond. Jake couldn't help but recall a pang of sadness as he remembered how things used to be. She used to be attentive, playful, and caring. But his father's passing, a year ago, had changed everything. His mother, in particular, had withdrawn and lost the spark that once shone in her beautiful cobalt blue eyes. Since two policemen had shown up at their doorstep to deliver the devastating news of her husband's fatal car accident, Jake hadn't heard his mother laugh again. Sometimes, when she thought he was upstairs in his room playing or watching TV, he would catch her crying uncontrollably, oblivious to the fact that he sat on the staircase, upset at witnessing her devastation and helplessness. On rare occasions, she would embrace Jake so tightly it felt like she could crush him, whispering that she loved him more than anything. He also grieved for his father's loss and missed him deeply, but he didn't want to burden his mother with additional pain. Despite being only eight years old, Jake felt it was his duty to watch over his mother now that his dad was gone.

"I can’t concentrate, they make too much noise!” The boy claimed, pointing at the noisy family. “Can we go now? Please!" Jake pleased, gently tapping her shoulder with his small hand.

"Can't you stop being a brat?" His mother muttered impatiently, her eyes still half closed. "Do you realize how lucky you are to be able to go to the beach every day? Many kids have never even seen the ocean, and here you are, complaining."

"But none of my friends are around; they have all left the Cape for the holidays! Why can't we go somewhere else too?"

His mother let out a groan and finally sat up, scolding him,

"Are you blaming me now for your father's death, Jake?"

Caught off guard by this question, the boy sheepishly replied,

"No, Mom."

"It's not my fault that your father died, and we don't have enough money to travel somewhere else this year, honey. Believe me, I wish things were different, and he was still here with us. But it's just you and me now..." Her voice cracked before she could finish her sentence.

"I'm sorry, Mom. I didn't mean to..."

"I'm doing my best, okay?" Jake's mother's lips trembled, as if she were on the verge of tears.

"I know," the boy murmured, reaching out to grab her hand and holding it tightly for a while.

Unfortunately, she barely seemed to notice. Silence fell between them, building a barrier as she stared into the distance, far beyond the reaches of the ocean. Jake felt that it was his responsibility to take care of his mother now, but how could he fulfill that duty when he couldn't even console her in her moments of sadness?

He often seemed to do the opposite, like when the school director had summoned his mom to her office because she wanted to show her the disturbingly gory drawing Jake had sketched in class. Jake had only wanted to shock his teacher a bit by drawing a woman stabbing a man to death with a knife, but things had quickly spiraled out of control. His mom had followed the director's advice and had sent Jake to a therapist, a kind elderly lady who had asked him peculiar questions about his parents, especially his mother. After a few weeks, the therapist had informed Jake's mother that he seemed fine and merely craved more attention from her. She was right: Jake wanted his mom to remember that he existed, that he was still here and needed her. But even when she looked at him, he felt as if her gaze passed right through him, as if he were transparent, like a ghost.

His mother abruptly stood up and announced, "I'm going for a swim." She didn't invite Jake to join her, which made the boy interpret it as her being angry with him. As she stood towering above him, Jake noticed a man gazing at his mother, which mildly annoyed him, though he had grown accustomed to such attention. His mother had a slender figure, long blond hair cascading down to her waist, and beautiful, big blue eyes that Jake had inherited. They often received compliments about their eyes, and their neighbor and Jake's babysitter, Simone, would jokingly say that his eyes would win over all the girls someday. But Jake didn't aspire to that. He thought that if he ever fell in love, it would probably be with a girl who would be exactly like Simone: kind and caring, with an angelic face.

His mother peered at him expectantly, as if awaiting a response. However, Jake merely nodded and said he would stay under the umbrella. Little did he know at that moment that he would spend the next twenty years regretting not asking his mother to wait for him or saying those three simple words, "I love you, Mom," or anything that could have brought her back to him. A peculiar look flickered across his mother's face, a gaze that would haunt him for the rest of his life, as she waded into the ocean and began swimming. Jake's eyes followed her for a while before he decided to join a group of children building a sandcastle nearby.

He couldn't discern how much time had passed before he realized that his mother had been gone for an unusually long time. Halting his sandcastle construction, he scanned the water in search of his mom, but she was nowhere in sight. She always forbade him from straying far from their umbrella when he was alone on the beach, but after a brief moment of hesitation, he concluded that finding her was of utmost importance. Perhaps she had wandered off to the wrong side of the beach and had lost her way back? It wouldn't be the first time—sometimes, when she became too absorbed in her thoughts, she would end up in unfamiliar places without any recollection of how she had ended up there, simply because she tended to walk without focusing on what she was doing. Since Jake's father passed away, it had been happening more frequently.

Jake strolled along the beach, his eyes sweeping the horizon in the hopes of catching sight of his mom. So engrossed in his search, he didn't register the familiar voice calling his name from behind him. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a gentle hand tapped his shoulder. It wasn't his mother but Simone who stood there, and a wave of relief washed over him at the sight of her. Simone's calming presence gave him a reassuring sense that everything was going to be okay. He found himself gazing out at the tumultuous ocean with a sense of wonder, wishing he could freeze its wild beauty with a camera.

Simone was the youngest daughter of their neighbors and had been Jake's babysitter since he was a baby. But she was much more than that - she was his confidante, his closest friend. After his father's passing, she was the only person he truly felt he could open up to about his emotions. She was the older sister he never had, and at times, he imagined her as the girlfriend he might have in the future. Once, he had even admitted his feelings for her, telling her he was in love. In response, Simone had given him a gentle smile and murmured that he was too young to understand such things and that he hadn't experienced true love yet. When Jake had questioned whether she knew what love was, she had offered a cryptic reply: "I do. Love hurts."

"I can't find Mum," Jake confided to Simone. His voice was tinged with worry. "She went for a swim, but she hasn't come back yet... I think she's lost."

A concerned expression clouded Simone's beautiful face. "How long has she been gone?" asked Simone's mother, who had joined them and had overheard Jake's distress.

An hour passed, and Jake still stood by Simone and her mother at the water's edge. The worry in his stomach was so intense that it made him feel queasy. He nodded in response to Simone's quiet words of comfort whispered in his ear. Deep down, he had a nagging feeling that the lifeguards searching the depths of the ocean would find his mother there, but he clung to the slim hope that he was mistaken.

Later, the police were called. Jake shared dinner with Simone and her mother; Simone's father was away on a business trip. Jake spent the night at their house, restless and anxious. As dawn broke, the doorbell rang. Jake roused himself and perched on the bottom stair, straining to hear a female voice speaking. At first, he thought it was his mother's voice, but he soon realized it was a policewoman requesting Simone's mother to come identify a body they had recovered from the ocean. Simone's hands covered Jake's ears from behind, attempting to shield him from the grim news. However, he had already caught enough of the conversation. Silent tears slid down his cheeks as he watched Simone's mother don her coat and leave the house.

Cape Cod, five years later

Following his mother's passing, a funeral had taken place. Nightmares of being unable to rescue his mother from death often plagued Jake. In an attempt to bring him comfort, Simone had shared a story with him.

“I’ll tell you a secret about your mum: she used to be a mermaid disguised as a human woman when she fell in love with your dad. But after he died, the call of the sea was irresistible to her… She had to go back there,” Simone’s voice trailed off, as she saw the sorrow etched upon the boy’s face. She held his hand tightly.

“Why didn’t she take me with her?” Jake's voice quivered with longing.

“Because she knew your place wasn’t within the depth of the sea, Jake. You belong here, with us, with me… Only when your time comes, you and your mum will be reunited there. But today isn't that day.”

“Promise me you’ll never leave me, please,” he had pleaded.

“I’ll never leave you, Jake. Ever.”

Simone had kept her promise. Approaching her twenty-first birthday, she had chosen not to leave Jake's side. She refused the allure of studying in New York or any other bustling metropolis, opting instead to remain in Cape Cod. At thirteen, Jake didn't fit in with the popular crowd. While his male peers gravitated toward football and baseball, his interests leaned toward books and photography. A treasured possession was his 1970 Nikon F Photomic, a gift from Simone for his twelfth birthday. He found joy in capturing moments through his lens, though his favorite subjects of study were Simone, who proudly referred to herself as his "muse," and Chris, his sole friend at school. His involvement in theater also grew after portraying Thomas, Gulliver's son, during the year-end performance. In those roles, he could escape into other lives, if only temporarily, forgetting his own loss.

A year and a half ago, just after his twelfth birthday, Jake moved back into the house he had shared with his mother, and Simone moved in with him. This pivotal decision followed a heated conflict between Simone and her parents, who advocated for sending Jake to another family. Refusing to consign the boy to an orphanage, where abuse might await, Simone took on the mantle of his guardian and relocated to his home. Her parents warned her that she would be squandering her life by assuming this responsibility, but her determination was unshakeable.

With Simone's presence, a new world blossomed, exclusively for the two of them. Though Simone's parents visited periodically – they still resided nearby – Jake's daily life remained largely as it had with his mother, except for a significant shift: Simone was different. Unlike his mother, Simone radiated cheerfulness and hopefulness. She assumed the role of a parent figure, guiding him through his struggles and helping him navigate his anger issues. In turn, he brought joy to her life with his humorous antics and impassioned viewpoints. She declined to be addressed as 'Mom,' thus 'Moni' became his term of endearment for her. To make ends meet, Simone juggled several part-time jobs to cover rent and expenses. During those initial years, despite their challenges, they found happiness in each other's company.

Jake's clash with Simone's parents traced its origins to the day he unearthed the truth surrounding his mother's demise. He had grasped early on that Simone's narrative was a construct woven to console a grieving orphan who had lost his mother. Nevertheless, for years her parents allowed him to believe that his mother's passing had been an accident; their version painted it as a mere muscle cramp that had hindered her swimming.

However, a pivotal day at school became a turning point. The kids who frequently taunted him for being a "nerd" hurled scornful words at him:

"Your mother despised you. She killed herself because of you! She couldn't bear having a weirdo like you around. Seriously, who could, Jakey?"

The altercation escalated into a physical brawl, culminating in a bloodied nose for Jake. Seeking the truth, he later confronted Simone and her parents. Simone's gaze dropped, while her parents dismissed the claims as provocation, imposing a penalty on Jake for his involvement in the altercation. It wasn't until he delved into a stack of 1996 local newspapers they had stored in the basement that he discovered a much darker reality. The Cape Cod community appeared to accept that his mother had, in fact, taken her own life. The term "suicide" held no meaning for him at the time. Subsequently, he found himself arguing with Simone first.

“I’m not a baby anymore! I know these are just stories,” restless and agitated, he had continued, “She was never a mermaid! She’s gone! I know what happens when someone drowns: they can’t breathe, it's a horrible death yet she chose it! I should have loved her more, I should have saved her, I should have…”

His sentence had been abruptly interrupted by a hiccup, followed by another, and then another, each convulsion jerking his body. As Jake was shaken by other uncontrollable spasms, panic had gripped his being.

“I can’t breathe… I can’t breathe! I just keep –”

Simone had patiently tended to him, employing her nurturing touch to ease his distress and alleviate the hiccups.

After that evening, Jake's anger didn't dissipate; if anything, it intensified. Purposefully breaking things, defying orders, and landing in the principal's office for disrupting classes became a pattern. Amid this turbulence, only Simone had the ability to reach him. Each time he had hiccups, the same feeling of not being able to breathe brought him to his knees, and the hiccups had become more and more frequent.

During those years, girls weren't a central interest for Jake. While passing groups of whispering and giggling girls, he paid them no mind. He had a brief fling with Monica Steinfeld at Chris's birthday party half a year earlier, but their two-week-long relationship ended without explanation, a development that left Jake unfazed.

Simone, on the other hand, moved from one boy to another, spending weeks after each breakup venting about men. The sounds of her bedroom's creaking bed and muffled sounds often reached Jake's ears, igniting a peculiar jealousy now that he understood their origin. Open about discussing sex with him, Simone never treated the topic as taboo between them. Yet, hearing those intimate noises remained awkward for him. Deep down, he was envious of those boys who shared such intimacy with Simone. He recognized his feelings were misguided, knowing she would never let him touch her the way she did those boys, but he couldn't suppress these emotions.

A turning point arrived when Michael Stamp taunted Jake about Simone, labeling her a "slut" who gave blowjobs to every man in Cape Cod. While he had long grown numb to insults like "freak" and "nerd," any disparaging comment about Simone was a spark that set his anger ablaze. When Jake and Michael clashed, it took two teachers to separate them. Despite Michael's stature as a towering football player, he struggled to shield his face from Jake's furious blows.

When Simone rushed into the school and spotted Jake waiting by the director's office, his face marred with bruises and a smug smile on his lips, she immediately grasped the gravity of the situation. Her temper flared.

"Good Lord, Jake, what mess have you dragged yourself into this time? I can't keep dropping everything to come take care of you, over and over again!" She ranted.

"But Moni, it's Michael! He said you were..."

"I don't give a damn what he said!" Simone cut him off. "You can't keep resorting to violence every time. This isn't the way to handle things. Now, where is this Michael? Why isn't he here with you?"

Jake knew that the answer wouldn't sit well with Simone. He averted his gaze and mumbled, "They took him to the hospital. I think I broke his nose..."

Simone's eyes widened, briefly resembling the expression his mother had worn – a mixture of weariness and disdain – when the school's director had shown her a gory drawing he'd produced. However, Simone's expression was different, as she appeared more disappointed than anything else. Shaking her head, she whispered,

"Oh my God… Jake, what am I going to do with you?"

In the director’s office, as she heard what the other boy had said about her and Jake’s reactions, Jake almost thought he detected a faint smirk flit across her lips adorned in red lipstick. Nonetheless, she didn't defend him as the director meted out the punishment: a week of suspension from school with a stern warning that the next infraction would be the last.

Later at home, Simone tenderly tended to his wounds. While she might have been seething beneath the surface, her demeanor hardly reflected it. Nonetheless, Jake felt a profound sense of guilt. He wasn't ashamed of defending Simone's honor and throwing a punch at Michael, but the director's punishment cut deep.

"You know, Jake," she began, her touch as gentle as her words, "I turned down studying in New York and gave up on so many plans to stay here with you... Is this how you're repaying me? By embarrassing me?"

"But he insulted you!" Jake protested, his voice quivering with emotion. "And you told Debbie you didn't even want to study law anyway."

"I lied to her to get her off my back," Simone snapped back. "Also, I didn't want you to feel bad! I've always shielded you, and it would mean a lot if you could acknowledge that for once."

His eyes welling up with tears, Jake attempted to speak, but Simone preempted him.

"I know you meant well, but I couldn't care less about what some thirteen-year-old brat thinks about me," she asserted, locking her gaze with his. "And if I don't care, neither should you. Do you want to know where these claims stem from?"

"Yes?" Jake responded with a nod.

"I was dating his cousin, Frank, but I broke up with him last week. Now he's bitter and spreading lies about me – that's the whole story! Don't pay attention to them, and everything will eventually settle down. You'll soon realize that people love meddling in others' affairs and passing judgment without understanding, child." Simone patiently explained, though the worry was palpable on her face.

"Why do you always end up with jerks like him? You deserve someone better," Jake murmured.

"I wish it were that simple..." Simone replied, a sad smile tugging at the corner of her lips. To Jake's dismay, tears began to stream down her cheeks.

In a gesture that had become second nature to him, Jake cradled Simone's face in his hands and pressed a tender kiss to her forehead. He lingered there for a moment, his lips brushing against her skin as he absorbed the warmth of their connection. Fueled by an impulse he couldn't restrain, he used his lips to gently wipe away Simone's tears, tasting the saltiness that had marred her face. She seemed surprised but not displeased by his unexpected action, and in response, she pulled him into a tight embrace. They held each other for a long while, finding solace in the shared comfort of their presence.

When they finally parted, Simone met Jake's gaze with a tenderness that made his heart ache. A soft, affectionate smile played on her vibrant red lips as she whispered, "you're such a beautiful boy..." Her intention seemed to be releasing him from their embrace, yet her eyes revealed a lingering hesitation, a silent plea not to let go. Captivated by this unspoken desire, Jake leaned in, capturing her lips with his own. Simone didn't push him away – not immediately. Instead, she responded to the kiss, her lips parting to welcome the intimacy between them. One of her hands found its way into his hair, deepening the connection as their kiss intensified.

But just as abruptly as it had begun, the moment shattered. Simone pulled away, her expression transforming from ardor to bewilderment, as if she were jolted awake from a dream. She pushed Jake back, her voice tinged with a mix of shock and panic. "What are you doing? What am I doing?!" she exclaimed, her words echoing in the space between them. Without waiting for an answer, she turned and fled from the house, her steps echoing the turmoil in her mind. The sound of her anguished whisper, "Oh my God..." lingered in the air long after she had disappeared into the night, leaving Jake alone with the remnants of a stolen moment that had unraveled as quickly as it had ignited.

The clock on the nightstand read twenty-two past midnight when Simone quietly entered Jake's room and perched on the edge of his bed. He was acutely aware of the time, not because he checked the clock, but because he had been lying there for what felt like hours, his eyes locked on the ceiling or occasionally glancing at the ticking timepiece. The memory of Simone's horrified expression after their kiss replayed in his mind like a broken record, and he couldn't shake off the feeling that their relationship had been irreversibly altered by that impulsive act. The fear of losing the profound connection they had shared kept him awake, and he listened intently for the sound of the front door closing, signaling Simone's return.

Now, as she sat there with a gentle smile gracing her lips, Jake found his voice in a soft whisper.

"I'm sorry, Moni..."

Simone's smile remained, and she shook her head slightly, her expression tender and reassuring.

"Don't be."

With a graceful movement, Simone slid under the sheets and settled beside him in the bed. It wasn't the first time she had sought solace in sharing his bed; after a particularly rough breakup, she would often find comfort in his presence. But tonight felt different. There was an intensity in the air, a charged energy that Jake sensed even in the dim light of the room, as he saw her eyes sparkling as they met his. As the weight of the previous events hung between them, Jake realized that this night was poised to be unlike any of the nights they had spent together before.

Let me introduce you to Mina and Jake here:

#sweetbitter #jake sweetbitter #jake x oc #fanfic #tom sturridge #fanfiction #jake #sweetbitter jake #suicide #flashback #childhood trauma #child abuse #emotional abuse #grooming #angst #drown #simone sweetbitter #caitlin fitzgerald

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ducknotinarow · 1 year

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Head hung low, Donatello silently debated which brother to turn to. Mikey was already out of the question, considering he was hanging out with Leatherhead that night. & Leonardo? Honestly, he wasn't even sure what their older brother was up to lately. He'd been silent lately since he started seeing Shinigami. So that only left one other brother- Raphael.

Donnie loved his brothers, he did, but he dreaded revealing what was bothering him to Raph. He was the one who constantly joked about it & well sad to say, he was right.

Shuffling into their room, gaze glued to the floor, he stays by the door just in case. "You were right." Tone is soft, dejected, but he's sure Raph can hear him. "I never really had a chance with her." ( '12 DonnieRaph :3 )

| Muse Interaction

Was it made the nicest way to go about it no not really, but Raphael wasn't one to pull punches he didn't work with kid gloves on like Leo or Mikey did. Then again they were less blunt compared to Raphael himself on top of it all. But well come on how could Donatello arguably and not, the smartest of them all truly think he stood a chance with a human girl? They weren't human. Don was just setting himself up for heart break. And everyone else was what willing to let Don go through that? Just to feed his delusions? That seemed far more cruel come pared to what Raph was doing. Which is what he had told Leo and Mikey but again he was in the wrong here. So he just holed up in his room uncaring he knew he was right. Not his fault they were unable to accept that.

Beside, the sooner Don accepted it the better. Why focus on that when there were other better choices out there? Someone who wouldn't string him along or make him think there was a slim chance and Don? Seemed fine with a slim chance alone to keep hope there.

Idly tapping drum sticks to his drum set, not really playing them just making noise at best as he was busy in his own thoughts. he notes his door opening and lifts a hand ready to throw one of the sticks "How many times do I have tell you Mikey to stop comin' in to my- oh Donnie?"

Raphael's change in tone wasn't so much due to seeing he mistook Don's entrance in his room for Mikey but more the fact it was Don i the first place. Don's gaze was focused on to the floor as they shifted their way in. Raphael quirked his beak slightly.

"Uh whats up Dee?"

"You were right."

Raphael wasn't following in the moment, "yeah always 'em bout time you noticed Einstein." He gruff slightly moving up from his seat. He can at least tell something is wrong as he makes his way over to his brother. "but for the hell of it wanna let me in on what 'm right bout here?"

"I never really had a chance with her."

Despite how soft his voice was Raphael did mange to catch what they said. "oh" he offers his face falling as he sort of lets pieces fall to make the final picture. "What do you? I mean when did you? how?" He was tripping over his question here suddenly that more blunt edge of his way to give truth and honestly wasn't quite as sharp. Maybe part of him was wrong for his approach? He slightly quirks his beak as he looks them over.

Fuck this was awkward as all hell. The red banded turtle thought as he reached to rub the back of his head. Before shifting his gaze back to Don. He knew they liked April but he's starting to see it might been a bit more for them. Now he feels sort of sorry for Don. "I didn' wanna be right ya know?" he at least offers unsure if that means anything here now. "I jus' Dee I didn't want ya to get hurt." Not that it seemed to matter he still did get hurt.

"I can protect ya from a lotta shit Donnie, but not well 'his. So I thought if I got you to see you could be rejected I dunno maybe it soften the blow when it happened?" He still was pretty set on the fact it would end how it has. Comforting or not he meant every word. He reaches over slow, and curls his fingers in to gently bump them with his knuckles a faint punch. Comfort wasn't his best area here that was more Mikey's thing after all. "ya know what ya need?" he waits for any sign they are listening. "A distraction?" he offers maybe it's guilty but he still wants to try. "you say it we'll do it? wanna watch tv? you pick the show. Wanna look for scraps for anything your working on? i'm ya guy." He sighs "Fuck i'll even agree to working on our dumb mazes and mutants characters with you." he lets his smile pull into a frown.

"I ain't leavein' ya alone Dee okay"

#muse| hamato raphael #starsandsavages #[ lost a step and i'm falling into you♥︎ starsandsavages]#[12 verse]#muse interaction #ic reply #stay queue #((he's sorry donnie ;3;))

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noisydiary · 2 years

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nirvana

A dimly lit, smoke filled garage stuffed wall to wall with Pine Bluff’s Juniors and Seniors wasn’t quite where Faith expected her night to go. Rather, she was expecting yet another quite, lonely night at Video Video Video, closing for Leo; seeing as he’d left early for a ‘concert’. This concert, specifically. Granted, as Faith looked into the garage, she spotted Leo’s familiar gel-spiked red hair in the midst of everyone. Or, at least, she assumed it was Leo—… a lot of the crowd had the same sort of distinguishing hairstyle. Lots of punk and ‘goth’ characters (as she’d been corrected. Apparently, emo and goth are two different styles entirely. Lesson learned). The only difference between this main popularity would be herself, Brett, and few others who hadn’t quite picked a style to lean towards.

“See her?” Brett’s voice cut out across the noise inside, just loud enough for Faith to catch on.

Faith shook her head, looking over to Brett, who scoffed, “Damn, I thought they’d have started playing by now- wonder what’s takin’ ‘em so long…”

Brett’s comment rounded out with the crowd, netting a shrug from Faith. She’d respond, but… she found it hard to voice much of anything. Everything here was what Faith would call ‘against her general lifestyle’. Not that that was bad— in fact, that would be quite the opposite of her current thought. All in all, she was excited. This was a net positive- in fact, probably the cap to her week. It’s just- the garage itself was overwhelming. Dim, flickering lights… the humming of cheap speakers some of the equipment up front was connected to… talking of the crowd and the cheer from that whole lot… not even mentioning the wafting scent of alcohol and smoke from various kinds of cigarettes that Faith couldn’t even name— even just standing outside, it was a lot.

The best way that Faith could describe it was it almost felt like being at a pep rally, or being in one of the movies. It wasn’t quite that draining, but she could definitely feel it tapping into her brain.

How did I…

Oh… Right-…

—(Earlier that evening)—

It was, indeed, a relatively quiet night at VVV, as Faith noted the lack of customers, even at 7pm. The fact didn’t much bother her, seeing as she’d found some delightful company in her newest library rental, ‘An Enchantment to Remember’. Most of the usual crowd who came in on a Saturday were at Tiffany’s house for a garage band. Jess’d mentioned it last week at the meeting- or, rather, before the meeting, and specifically to Leo. Faith overheard the conversation. Sort of.

Purposeful eavesdropping aside, the rest of the usual company were infrequent at best. But still, the store closed at midnight, aaand someone had to watch the desk. Seeing as it was Saturday, most people were already on dates or any other number of reasons, so the shop was quiet.

And by ‘quiet’, Faith could say that a pin drop could be heard. Leo’d left the store’s music on his generic tape from his uncle, so the boring, people pleasing items that were from twenty years ago. Songs that Faith had well learned to tune out by this point.

On thinking of the music, though, Faith glanced up from her book- looking around the store. Eerily empty, those shelves were. Thus, she hummed a soft tune to herself; a tune with a minor melody one wouldn’t expect such a sweet girl to know. She placed her bookmark in her book and put it on the counter, getting off her stool and heading towards the back to change the music… Luckily, for Faith, Leo conveniently hid Jess’ records in the old filing cabinet. Even more so, he’d shown her where he was hiding them, so she could change the music at her leisure.

”Of course, they’re not your style, but if you really can’t take the old geezers music, then I guess you can tolerate this. It’s either fogy music, or heavy alt stuff. Your choice, really.” Funnily enough, when he’d told her, he didn’t realise that she would actually like it. Maybe it was cause it was Jess’… Maybe it was because it was just… vastly different from her normal music that her mother let her listen to, but Faith rather liked it. So much so, that the tune she hummed was one of the tracks off the record she’d gone to fetch.

However, as she’d gone to grab it, the bell chimed, causing her to stop dead in her tracks. She swiftly turned around and threw on a polite smile, “Hello, welcome to Vi-“

Her smile fell just slightly on seeing Brett strutting his way to the counter, with a grin and a swagger only he could carry. He leaned against the counter, “Heyy bookworm— Leo in?”

Faith shook her head, taking no offense to the nickname (He means it in earnest!), “No. He left about an hour ago for that band playing at Tiffany’s.”

Brett let off a scoff, scowling as he pulled away just a touch from the counter, “Yeah- that as the whole point- I was gonna drive.”

Faith held back her comment with that one, knowing teasing Brett was an easy way to get a cursing out- besides, she didn’t quite have the bite for the joke she’d thought of. Instead, she blinked a few times, earnestly confused, “You’re going?”

“He asked me to, so he wouldn’t seem like he was desperate.”

Confusion only grew as Faith tilted her head, “Desperate?”

Brett snorted before rolling his eyes, “Yeah. Desperate. Jess invited him, and he didn’t wanna seem pathetic, so he said no to her, but-.”

Ga- Faith shook her head to dispel the thought, interrupting before Brett could finish, “I’d heard that much, sort of…- Um-!”

She got a scowl for that one, “Can you let me finish? Fuck- you might even wanna know this next bit, lil nerd.”

Faith bit her lip, bowing her head as she mumbled, already feeling a slight bead in her eyes, “Sorry…”

Brett grew a bit softer with that, letting off a sigh and trying to correct, “It’s- fine. Sorry. Teasing, y’know?”

Teasing isn’t teasing if it hurts the other person—

“The reason Jess invited him was cause its her band. Well- kinda. She’s singing for them. Might chicken out and do bass though. Who knows. You know he still likes hearing her, so, yeah. Didn’t want to seem desperate.”

On hearing that, a little pang rang through Faith’s chest- her head lifted as her eyes widened, her jaw slackening as her lips parted. She shut her mouth quickly after, and her cheeks flushed as she realised what she was doing. Gyeh!!! You’rehopeless—

Brett, on the other hand, chuckled, “Yeah, that’s about what I thought would happen. Gloria told me to tell you that- said that you might want to know. She didn’t say why, but yeah.”

Faith scowled at that, seeing as Gloria had her own thoughts about Faith- some she’d felt more than free sharing. Like you’re a queer?

“Uhuh… Anyway. Still. If Leo’s gone, I may as well get going too. See ya.” Brett turned on his heel, making to leave, though his steps were slower than normal- only slightly. Not enough for Faith to notice.

Instead, what Faith noticed was the gnawing in her chest, and the uneasy feeling in her stomach. That, and what almost sounded like a song playing in her mind. Nothing real, granted, but enough that it stopped her from thinking rationally- enough that she called out to Brett, “W-wait…”

Brett stopped at that, turning with a little knowing smirk, “Yeah? What.”

“…um… I- don’t…” Faith flustered, feeling her cheeks distinctly growing redder as she realised what she was doing, and trying to rationalise it in her head. Notqueerjust—just- supporting a friend!! W-why do I need to stay open anyway?? No ones going to come-

…I want to hear her…

Her lips curled into a frown as she realised that thought- no… it really is that bad. She squeezed her eyes for a moment, before Brett interrupted, “Are you gonna ask for a ride or not, Faith.” A squeak caught in Faith’s throat as she realised Brett knew exactly what she wanted. Her eyes darted to the ground, before she nodded. Brett laughed again, motioning to the door, “Thought so. Lock up, see you out in 10?”

“…m-mhm..! Give me- um… a little bit, yeah…”

In a relatively swift manner, Faith rounded up entirely necessary closing tasks- things for closing early like locking the drawer with a note for whomever’s there in the morning to count it down, or putting up the closed sign with an explanation that ‘all attendants are currently busy!’. She clicked the lights off, took the spare keys from the back, and locked the front door. She then looked out into the lot, seeing Brett’s fancy… uh… Convertible? He’d said the name a few times, but Faith couldn’t honestly remember cars for the life of her.

Nevertheless, she’d made her way to the car, seeing Brett bobbing his head to the song playing on the tape deck. He turned his head and flashed a smile, “Hop in. Toss your stuff in the back if you need.”

Faith did as he followed, noting how… Clean it was. Brett wasn’t the worst when it came to order, but, usually he had things in the back and they were Gone. Just Gone. Not a trace, as if the car was practically brand new. Once again, keeping her mouth shut, she opened the side door and got inside, buckling in.

When Faith was sufficiently in, Brett kicked the car into drive, and sped off- reasonably. It may be a sports car, but he’s still Technically only got a permit. It didn’t take all too long to get to Tiffany’s, and before long, they were as they are now, watching the garage for signs of life of this band everyone’d gathered to see.

As Faith brought herself back to Earth, she saw a fleeting figure pass by, heading around the side of the house with a large shape on their back. She watched as they disappeared into the darkness, noting how Brett looked down to her- expectant. She winced slightly as she found some semblance of her voice, “Yes?”

“I said I think they’re starting soon- at least, I sure hope so.”

Faith nodded, turning her attention back into the garage. Granted, the crowd was loud as ever, but the lights up front clicked on. She couldn’t see past all of the people, but she could hear as the crowd slowly quieted down after a fair spell, and the speakers crackled alive. ”How’re we doing tonight??” A girl cheered through the mic, getting a roar from the crowd gathered, ”Yeah?? Yeah!! Then let’s get to it!”

It didn’t take much to realise the girl speaking wasn’t who Faith was here for-

I mean, noo… not here for anyone-! Just— here for the show… Mhm.

Still, the band kicked off into a set, playing songs that had about the same sort of energy as the record in the shop… Not recognisable to Faith, but solid enough songs for her to smile along. She’d glanced around to see if she could find some way to see the band itself better, noting the place relatively packed. There was a door in the back, but the band was playing back there, so peaking through there wasn’t much an option, unless she wanted to get called out. Honestly? Faith couldn’t deal with that ordeal right now, much less… Ever, really. Other than that, there weren't any real options except to go into the garage proper- and honestly, it was enough to be out here. So, instead, Faith stayed put. She kept towards the back as she tapped her hand along with the beat against her leg, listening for the set. Once the chords of Comfortably Numb faded, the lead kicked back on the mic, "Hey- thank you guys so much for stickin' with us tonight. We're gonna break for a beat, but when we get back, we've got a surprise for ya!"

The crowd in the band cheered again as the mic gave off feedback. Brett chuckled at that point, "Five bucks I know what the 'surprise' is."

Faith glanced up to him, tilting her head- "Really?"

"Hah- yeah. Don't you?" Slightly condescending, before he chuckled again, "Riiight, you don't have any money. Nevermind. You'll see in a minute."

Brett then slinked off into the garage for a fair minute, leaving Faith to her own devices- leaving her to realise just how… Out of place she felt. Sure, the music was good, but she didn't know anyone here other than Leo and Brett. And, of all people to come with, she came with Brett. It could be worse, she could be with a real bully rather than Brett, but she still would rather to have come with Leo in the first place. Leo… he was like her brother- heck, a better brother than Ian was. He teased, but never as mean as Brett did. As much as Leo tried to give a pricky exterior, he had a heart under there. Faith couldn't entirely say the same for Brett.

No, no… not quite. There had to be one there, it just- was misguided.

Speaking of the devil, Brett returned- with Leo in tow, and a few solo cups in his hands. He and Leo seemed to be chatting about something, as Faith caught the tail end of Leo's comment, "…well it's about any minute now, so-"

"Yeah, we'll see. Hey- here," Brett thrust a cup towards Faith, "Drink."

"H-huh…?"

Leo glanced to Brett, before waving his hand dismissively, "It's water, you're fine."

You know me too well. Faith's eyes flicked past Leo and towards the cup, before taking a sip and finding his words true. Granted, he usually didn't lie, but still-- could never be too safe as her mother warned her countless times.

"So, you ready?" Leo smirked, nodding towards the crowd… likely meaning the stage, and therefore, the band.

"Ready?"

"Yeah, y'know they're pulling o-"

As Leo continued, the speakers crackled with the sound of feedback again, before starting up with a combo of guitar and bass which waved over the crowd. Beats of which Faith drifted to, recognising the sharp, distinct notes before they melted into a pattern- of which Faith knew was followed by…

"Running away, I knew I was wrong- I'd tried to fit in where I didn't belong."

Jess. Jess' voice came over the speaker- less gravelly than the recording that Faith'd heard of the original band. But then again, Jess had a nicer voice than that… moreover, she knew how to use it. She painted with her voice, singing each word with emotion that lingered past just the words she'd memorised. Each word articulated, if a little muffled by the output…

Faith lightly pressed past the two as she latched on to the voice- before being pulled back, "Woah, hey now."

Brett'd reached out, having gently grabbed her shoulder. Leo was the one calling out, reaching and taking the cup from her, "Hey, you and I both know you don't want to go up there."

A little flutter ran through Faith's chest as her hands clenched into fists, pouting as she looked between them- to which Leo laughed at. "Okay, okay. I know. Here. You're still like- what- 90, 100 pounds?"

"Don't burn the fire, I'm never comin' home-"

Leo put down the cups he'd been holding before he snapped a few times, snagging Faith's attention away from the song being sung, "Do you want to see her or not, Faith?" Faith turned her head down for a moment, growing red. IwanttoI-

With a little more patience, Leo leaned in and spoke just loud enough for Faith to hear, "Hey, remember what you asked about? Don't worry about it right now. It doesn't matter. Do you want to see her, or not?"

"…I could hear the whispers of my own mistakes- those warning eyes, that final touch… No one seemed to care that much." Jess' voice rattled in Faith's mind for a moment, before a buzzing ran through Faith's head and down her neck.

It took a moment, before she nodded and looked up to Leo with wide, soft eyes, almost pleading. On the other hand, Leo just… grinned. He let off a huff before he looked to Brett, "A'right."

Before Brett came a bit closer and knelt down with his back towards Faith, his arms stretched behind him. "Hop on, princess."

Faith stared for a moment, before realising- "O-oh…"

Leo laughed, "What, never been on piggyback? You'll be fine."

He then reached and nudged her forward with a gentle push on her back- to which Faith pulled back against it, "W-wait, my skir-"

"You don't wear shorts under that? It'll be fine for like- five minutes," Leo rebutted, nudging her forward again.

With a bit of hesitation, and a whimper caught in her throat, she stepped forward and got on Brett's back, muttering, "Sorry-" as she did so.

Brett scoffed before he wrapped his arms underneath her legs and slowly standing up, "You're fine, Faith-"

He'd made to continue, but realised the words were fairly pointless then, as he'd gotten to full standing and Faith saw above the crowd…

And there was Jess… belting her heart out into the microphone, her right hand clutching it close to her mouth, and her other twirling the string in her hand. She'd donned some more bracelets than normal, but her shirt and shorts were the same as ever-- a Mure shirt with dark shorts, and boots she'd decorated herself some time ago. She swayed along with the music, keeping time with her feet- and her hair bounced with every step she took, getting in the way of her eyes. Eyes of which that scanned the crowd- before looking out past and-

Settling on Faith.

Jess' eyes grew wider for a moment, and the rest of the lyrics came out ever so slightly different- as if the words got caught in her throat. She'd continued just fine after a moment, looking away from Faith, but for a moment… Just a moment, that buzzing came back, flooding Faith's head and getting a dopey smile to form on her lips. Everything was hazy for just a moment, before her cheeks flushed hot.

The song rounded out as Jess finished it- and she pulled the mic away from her lips. Faith watched as she looked out towards the crowd again, her eyes directly snapping on to Faith. Seeing her again, there and real, got her to turn towards what Faith assumed was Tiffany. They talked for a moment, as Tiff hesitated, talking back to Jess- before Jess snipped back, and Tiff shrugged. Tiffany then made a circle with her hands to the person on an electric keyboard, and a new song started up. The drums followed suit after a round of keyboard solo, and then Jess brought the mic to her lips, looking towards the crowd as she started singing, "Just as I thought, it was going alright. I found out I'm wrong, when I thought I was right…"

She'd continued as Faith listened, not recognising the song off hand. It almost sounded familiar, but not enough for Faith to know the lyrics. At least with Don't Burn The Fires, Faith had heard it on one of Jess' records a number of times. She listened in for the lyrics, picking up on what Jess sang. In a way, as Faith listened to the lyrics- the pointed way that Jess sang them, and the way she chose to articulate them… It almost sounded like it was for Leo.

"I could say day, and you'd say night- tell me it's black, when I know that it's white…" Definitely Leo… Yet, Jess' eyes stopped tracing the crowd as the backing track changed, a heavy strike to the hi-hat changing the meaning of the song as her voice grew softer- looking to Faith again as she sang, "Truth is, I love you. More than I wanted to- there's no point in trying to pretend. There's no one that makes me feel like you do. Say we'll be together 'til the end."

The song continued as Jess'd sung it until that point, pointed and distracted- although, it may have been part of Faith's mind now… running a little wild, but… Jess seemed to purposefully keep her attention anywhere other than on her. It may have been Faith's imagination that a little glow ran through Jess cheeks.

What wasn't imagination, however, was the excitement flowing through Faith. Excitement she hadn't realised was coming out by means of tapping. Aka, tapping against Brett's head- aka meaning she'd been (lightly) smacking Brett's hair for a solid few seconds. Enough to get Brett to interject, "Can you knock that off?? I'll put you down-! You're getting heavy-"

Faith went rigid at the thought, though rationally realised she'd have no right to complain. Brett was doing her a huge favour- and very likely was doing it because Leo'd asked him to do so. Even just getting a chance to be up above the crowd for but a minute was more than enough to last Faith for weeks. She pulled her hands back towards herself- before she realised Brett began to kneel down, seemingly taking that motion as a move to be brought down. Not wanting to correct him, she hopped off once at a suitable level, and corrected her skirt as the song rounded out…

Leo stood before Faith with a bit of a shit eating grin- his attention momentarily taken up as Brett moved and grabbed one of the cups off the ground, drinking it down in one, ginormous gulp. "Damn, big boy, you swallow everything like that?"

And a most innocent glance up from the second cup as Brett looked over to Leo, "Huh?"

"Nothinggg-" Before mouthing 'stupid motherfu-' and being stopped as Brett stood up, flashing a smile.

"So, happy?"

It took a moment for Faith to recognise that the question was aimed at her, before she flushed again and smiled, her eyes drifting off as she nodded. Brett held out the cup to her, "Here, drink up, then we'll get out of here."

Faith reached to take the cup, before freezing- her eyes darting to Brett before her brows furrowed, "Get out of here? We've only been here a little bit..!"

"It's been like an hour and a half, Faith- I need to go home at some point, and I gotta work in the time it'll take to drop you off. You heard a lot of songs, and you're not gonna talk with anyone here other than Leo, so-"

"B-but Jess-!"

"Is performing. So, we're heading out in a minute when you finish your water."

Leo brought up a hand, interrupting the two, "Ay-- seems like she's got more energy than you do. Why don't you head out now, and I'll get her home. Sound good?"

"You sure on that? Since you don't hold up to promises all too well…" Brett grumbled, moving to cross his arms- careful to keep the cup on top so that it wouldn't spill.

"What promise?…" Leo, turning to look at Brett- before his eyes widened as he realised, looking off, "Fuck-! I- okay. Yeah. Sorry." "Yeah."

Faith looked between the two, before letting off a little snort, holding back a full laugh. It wasn't entirely something she understood- granted, she still had problems accepting herself. However, something deep in her always had this sort of… Inkling. The inkling that this wasn't just a 'hangout' to either of them. But that wasn't her call, and truth is, she barely understood it herself. Just that it seemed something else was growing- that's all.

Brett glared over to Faith's stifled laughter, scowling, "What's that- got something to say?"

Quickly, Faith moved and covered her mouth, shaking her head. Brett rolled his eyes, "Thought so…" Before he looked to Leo, "Right, I'm out."

"Night--" Leo pursed his lips together as Brett walked off to where he'd parked the car around the curb, waiting until he was gone to rub his neck, "Shiiit…"

He looked up after that, noticing Faith still watching- "Tch-- do you have something you want to say?"

Faith pulled her hands away from her mouth, still glancing off… before Leo sighed, "You can say it. Come on. Hit me, little cupid."

"…I-- don't really…"

"Go on." Leo egged, stepping a bit closer.

Knowing him, he knew her answer already. He just… wanted a confirmation. That's how it was with Jess- wanting to hear it from a third party… Faith at that point bit the corner of her mouth, her eyes darting up to Leo before looking away again as she muttered, "Youlikehim."

"What?" Earnest in his response-- her words could barely be heard over the band.

"Nothing!! Let's just… I should…" Faith gestured behind her towards where Brett had walked off.

"Hey-!! I said I'd give you a ride home. The set's gonna end in like… half an hour. Just hold on."

A frown tugged on Faith's lips as she looked up to Leo, "W-why do I need to stay? Brett was right, I should--"

"Where'd that spark go? Not five minutes ago you didn't want to leave, and now you're jumping at the bit to get outta here."

There wasn't anything Faith could pin down to the feeling in her chest. This sort of pounding that didn't quite make sense-- feeling worse on the thought of leaving, but the thought of staying scared her just that little bit more. She let her head fall as she squeezed her hands together, squishing the palm of one hand with the other as she let the current song play… focusing once again on Jess' voice as she sang.

Something about the way her range varied- that her voice came softer, like a lullaby backed only by gentle piano… Something that Faith could listen to for hours and still be drunk off its sound- and oh how much she wished to drink.

"You don't see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear- it floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier… All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas… The shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe." Carrying weight to it as Faith realised the words, and the lightness of Jess' voice kept with this feeling of meaning to every word she sang.

Granted… Just about any song Jess sang could carry weight that send a shiver down Faith's spine, giving chills as it hit deeper than she'd care to admit. Not many things could do that…

"…Yeah. I thought so." Leo broke Faith's concentration on the music- getting her to snap her attention towards him, as a softer smile sat on his face. "Stay. Otherwise, you're gonna regret it."

Almost as if he spoke from experience, he pulled back and nodded towards the crowd, "You can handle yourself out here, yeah?" Faith pursed her lips once again, debating in her head the pros and cons of staying. Pro, hearing more and all… Con, she may say or do something she'd regret. Something she'd much rather not admit right now. Even though it may slap her in the face whether she'd like it to or not. She sighed, before nodding, "Yes."

"Okay. I'll be back out when this sets over. Things are likely gonna chill out after- I dunno how long they're gonna keep going, honestly. Might end after this, who knows." Leo shrugged, before he turned on his heel and headed back into the fray, rejoining the group he'd been with before and leaving Faith to her own devices.

In turn, Faith found herself alone, with just the bands song as her company. She turned to look in the garage yet again, before she moved away from the door and towards the side of the house, sitting where she could still hear the crackle of the speakers. Although a little quieter here, she found herself more at peace as she listened along, humming with songs that she recognised.

All in all, the half hour passed quickly, as Faith lost herself to the music- as half of her mind imagined there was no wall between her and the song being sung…

That nothing in her head stopped her from enjoying this, and feeling the flutter of butterflies in her stomach as she latched on to the lyrics. There were no rules against it, no one saying no, just… Her, and Jess. And that was all she needed to feel less alone.

Although, as the last chord ebbed out, and the cheering of the crowd settled in, Faith opened her eyes and woke up. She felt the little smile on her cheeks fade away as those butterflies rattled around, her hands shaking as she moved to stand up. Leo was waiting, probably, and- she vaguely heard as one of the other girls say that was it for tonight, unless the crowd wanted an encore…

I can't stay like this it's-- not right I--

She didn't bother to listen for the answer, as her smile faded as she made her way to the garage door, noting as a few sets of footsteps followed behind her. Seeing a lack of Leo out in the driveway, she peaked inside the garage to see if he was still inside- before she felt a hand grab her shoulder, and a flood of panic shot through her as she jolted at the touch. She turned to look at who the hand belonged to, seeing a soft, yet tired Jess before her.

"Hey…" She croaked out, having worn down her voice after all of her work. Her spare hand held a bottle of water half drunken at this point, which crinkled as she smiled a bit, "I wasn't expecting to see you- nice surprise, though."

Faith let off an awkward chuckle, as she looked past Jess and saw the other members of the band chatting, walking past them. She felt that same flutter in her chest as she swallowed down whatever nerves arose- though not able to stop herself from blushing a little, "I… yeah… um… Leo was coming-- and he- he asked me to come…"

That got a laugh out of Jess in turn, "You could just say you wanted to come, Faith- I wouldn't be offended."

Would you like it?

Her eyes widened at the thought, darting away, "I-- noo… w-why would I? I mean- you… sing well and all I just-- I mean until a half hour ago I didn't even know you'd be here and-"

Another laugh came from Jess as her eyes lightened- as Faith noted behind the mess of her hair and general sweat on her brow… Jess pulled her hand off Faith's shoulder and tucked it into her pocket, "Well, thanks. It's nice seeing you here. What'd you think? Not really your style but-"

"I loved it-!" Faith chimed, a little hazy in her response, before realising just about how… Desperate that sounded. The red in her cheeks only grew as she tried to calm down, "I-i mean, you… performed well. Nicely done."

As Faith finished, Jess tuffed a bit of her hair away from her eyes, trying to distract from her own cheeks turning pink- sheepishly responding, "Thank you." OhmyGodohmyG- FaithEmmaWilliamsyouhAVETOSTOP- Faith let off a little chuckle as she nodded, "O-of course… Oh..! You're- probably looking for Leo…"

Jess's smile faded as she looked to Faith, shaking her head, "Nah… No, I'm- here to see you. Just wanted to see why you were here."

"M-me??"

"Yeah. What, is it weird to say hi to a friend?"

Before she'd realised she'd done it, Faith winced at the term- "No… Just… I thought you'd invited Leo, that's all…"

"Iii did. Figured I may as well drag everyone here who I thought might enjoy a good night out. Buuuut… On that…" Jess cricked her neck before looking out to the crowd, "I've- got a lot of people to say thanks to, so uh… Yeah. I guess I'll uh… See you Monday?"

"…see you Monday…" Faith muttered, before Jess moved and patted her shoulder and then left, weaving through the crowd.

Stupidlittlehomosexualthoughts- This has to stop it has to stop--

The gentle patting was replaced by a firm hand, as Leo passed through the crowd and out to where Faith stood, "Hey-- you see Jess?"

"She just left…"

Leo flashed a smile as he pulled his hand away, "Awesome. Well- you ready?"

It took a moment, as Faith felt this awful wave of exhaustion pass over… She hadn't even done anything exhausting, just… She felt a strong sense of being ready to go to bed- and she'd sleep for a while. Maybe a good rest would help pass over what little stew brewed in her mind. She nodded, letting off a long sigh, "Yes, please…"

Leo's smile faded enough to be a slight smirk, before he walked off with Faith in tow. Soon enough, the night was over- as Faith found herself at her doorstep, promptly heading inside and falling into bed.

For a fair spell, it was just her, staring to the ceiling. Alone with her thoughts.

Honestly, she'd thought she'd feel more… Regret? Anger- something along those lines…

And yet all she felt was a buzzing as she thumbed over the songs in her mind… and a soft little smile fell on her lips once more before she fell asleep, humming along.

------ ☾ | i don't have v many comments this time, just sources for the songs referenced in this! i sourced out to my dad since he knows 80s songs much better than i do, but i caved for one song ok song list in order of use in ramble - don't burn the fires | dead moon (1988) that's all | genesis (1983) you are the moon | the hush sound (2006)

#video horror society #vhs #vhs faith #vhs brett #vhs leo #vhs jess #jess in a garage band anyone?#anyone? just me? ok #vhs jess/faith #shadowheart #vhs leo/brett #slaytrek #technically #it's like a budding flower for those two #also trying new tags for relationships :D #totally not inspired by cherry #hOLY SHIT THIS IS LONG IM SORRY #ficlet #rambles

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iwasntsupposedtogetinvestedhelp · 3 years

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I do like how each scenario for the rhythm games has their own music - it’s definitely nice to hear that they don’t just reuse slightly different tracks. Like how the ghost chasing out sections have what I believe is EDM, and the magishift(?) have more actiony-type music (I wish I could describe music better lmao)

And then you get to Octavanille, which I can only describe as YA LIKE JAZZZ?????

#twisted wonderland #wonderin and wonderin #twisted wonderland spoilers #the fact they even changed the noise that plays when you tap the notes is so funny #it threw me off which made me a little mad sure but it was funny #anyway. is it just me thinking this or?

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1kook · 3 years

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crunchyroll & rail

the 10th installment of my netflix & chill series !

SUMMARY Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. WARNINGS smut in the forms of making out, jk nipple play, some 69 action, cunnilingus, blowjobs, brief choking, jk trying his best to listen to oc but he doesn’t rlly :/, fingering, missionary bc his eyes are pretty, unprotected fuckin raw, its romantic but when is it not… MISC fluffy and domestic <3, weekend getaway <3, the Big Question, shy jk, sailor moon supremacy, jk makes this big elaborate speech about the sun and moon, mentions of 240p YouTube quality, RATING m (18+) WC 8.7k

NOTE (!) the smut in this chapter is relatively short ! I was more concerned with writing this monumental step in their relationship, so sorry to all the lads who come here specifically for the p0rn but today we focus on the l0ve <333 anyway nc 10!!!!! Can u fuckin believe….

Jungkook mentions it at the dinner table one night. You’re not eating— well, you are not eating; Jungkook has been stocking up on his protein intake like a madman —but finishing up some work you had brought home. Your back aches, your eyes burn. The mere sound of his soft voice has all those feel-good endorphins shooting through your nervous system like a shot of adrenaline. “We should take a trip,” he says, fork clattering against his plate to signify the end of his feast.

Your fingers tap across your keyboard, eyes flickering between an Excel sheet and the report you’re typing out. It takes you a moment to respond, a delayed, “huh,” that even Jungkook doesn’t find convincing.

In the background, you’re listening to what has to be one of the worst voiceovers of the original Sailor Moon series in a language you don’t even understand. But you know the series like the back of your hand, know what exactly is happening even if you don’t understand what they’re saying, because you’ve watched it only about a million times. It’s mostly just there for background purposes anyway, some white noise to try and replicate the noisy soundtrack of your office.

To make matters worse—complicated?—, you had been too lazy to get onto your usual pirating sites and had settled for the five minute, five part, 240p clips of Sailor Moon on YouTube (you know the ones), and Jungkook has to wait until Episode 74: Part ⅖ ends before you grace him with a proper response. “Where do you wanna go, baby?” you ask, giving your eyes a break from the data as you move to scour YouTube for Episode 74: Part 3/5.

He’s stretching back now, arms wound up above his head. His hair— god, his hair —is an ashy color now, a faded version of its golden ancestor from a few months ago. Soon, he’s planning on going back to brown, claims he’s getting too old to be dying his hair, whatever that means. For now, you watch his inked fingers run through his scalp; he looks delectable. Maybe you’re hungrier than you initially thought. Or at least thirstier. “A cabin,” he suggests, and he offers this little half shrug that would otherwise seem normal had you not been well-versed in the art of Jungkook Body Language. His front teeth nibble at his lip, eyes laser focused on his empty plate. Even now, he still gets nervous asking you out. That thought alone makes your ego soar as high as an airplane. “Just something small.”

Usually, “something small” with Jungkook ends up being something big and, in most cases, something expensive. Which you’re totally not opposed to— you’re at the point in your relationship where you don’t even bother trying to dissuade Jungkook from showering you with gifts. It’s one of his many, many, many, many forms of loving you and, well, he knows you like the back of his hand. He rarely misses.

Lo and behold, it is a grander affair than a simple cabin. “Well, it’s more like a resort,” he confesses, reaching across the table for your hand. Immediately, his thumb finds itself rubbing over the simple band of your promise ring. “Just wanna do something nice for you. I know you’ve been tired lately,” he adds on, voice a quiet murmur that nearly gets lost under the intensity of the pout that appears whenever he becomes even the slightest bit bashful.

You smile, the fondness in your heart skyrocketing to impossible heights when he lifts your hand to press those pretty petal lips against your knuckles. “Well, just let me know when,” you tell Jungkook. “So I can request time off from work.”

Episode 74: Part 3/5 starts playing after an ad, and you’d pause it for the sake of preserving this moment with Jungkook, but it’s hidden under so many tabs on your laptop that you lose it the second you leave the tab. Jungkook’s head tilts to the side, sending his ashy locks cascading beautifully. “You know that show is on Crunchyroll,” Jungkook says, seemingly moving past his bout of shyness now. “And you have the password.”

“Do I,” you murmur, but he’s lost you once more, your true talent of typing with one hand showing itself as you return to your Excel sheet, the other still firmly squeezed in his grasp. Jungkook releases soon enough anyway, cleans up the table quickly, and disappears off into the kitchen. He sings when he washes the dishes, likes to pretend he’s a terrible singer even though you’ve told him countless times he could easily take X Factor by storm. (And you know exactly what it takes to wow those judges— you spent the entire last month psychotically watching multiple X Factor seasons from multiple different countries, nearly considered joining the damn audition yourself.) The horribly dubbed Sailor Moon is yelling now, shrieking really, and Jungkook calls from the kitchen, “don’t forget to take your contacts out, sweetheart.”

It’s domestic and it's nerve-wracking.

You want Jungkook, that much is a fact. Aristotle and Socrates and that other guy could debate the philosophical intricacies of the world, turn this dimension in on itself until it was a scrambled mess of emotion and thought, but the one thing they could never change, could never even question, is your love for your boyfriend. You want Jungkook badly, but more importantly, you want Jungkook forever.

And you’re sure Jungkook probably, maybe, hopefully feels that way too. But the way you feel is… slightly concerning to say the least. For starters, you’re convinced your love for Jungkook was meant to be, and that’s saying a lot coming from you. You’re not one for cheesy, soulmate tales— that was more Jungkook’s thing —but the more you think about it, the more you become convinced that you and Jungkook were destined to meet. Like the planets aligned one year, the stars conferred, a tectonic plate somewhere in California shifted; whatever it may have been, something happened somewhere that led to the birth of this beautiful romance of yours.

Lately, being with Jungkook has this inexplicably fiery feeling blossoming in your chest, these waves of emotion that sometimes have you fantasizing about the weirdest of scenarios with him. Like yelling at him for not taking the garbage out on time, or bumping into each other as you make dinner in the kitchen, or buying a new rug together.

(Most drastically, the other day, you had a dream where you were pregnant and Jungkook was there and there was a house and a dog and an annoyingly friendly neighbor and this god-awful tile in the bathroom.)

Long story short, you’ve been fantasizing about a forever with Jungkook. The concerning part is the timing; was this too early? You’re nearly halfway through your second year with Jungkook now, and you know most people date for many, many years before the mere thought of union even occurs to them. In another life, maybe you were the same, would have held off until the very last moment. But with Jungkook things just feel right (at least for you), like there wasn’t going to be anyone else after him. And you sincerely hoped there wouldn’t be.

You slump back into your seat, eyes fluttering shut. Too many thoughts swirl around your mind, and the screech of the Sailor Moon voiceover on screen certainly doesn’t help. How you managed to spiral that far down your thoughts in the span of one 240p, five minute clip of a larger episode amazes even you. To add onto your worries, the clip abruptly ends and Episode 74: Part ⅘ is nowhere in sight, a fact that draws a frustrated moan out of the already sensitive you.

Luckily, Jungkook eventually returns, standing closely behind you. His presence is enormous, the room suddenly overflowing with a shit ton of those feel-good endorphins all over again, except this time they reach an all-time high when he leans over and quietly shuts your laptop. “Come sleep,” he says softly, and it’s a pleasant mixture of his genuinely caring voice and that horndog purr of his that lures you into bed. And it’s that same voice that croons softly into your ear, fingers nestled between your folds until you’re orgasming yourself into a deep slumber.

Much to no one’s surprise, the cabin turns out to be quite the luxurious lodging; two floors of dark oak everywhere you turn, a stunning stone fireplace in the bedroom, and a truly breathtaking view of the resort’s snowy hill (read: front row seats to watch all the snowboarders and skiers wipe out in the snow). Jungkook had splurged quite the pretty penny on it, so you make a point to clap it up for him when he first opens the door to your temporary home for the weekend.

The main bedroom is beyond words. It’s got an attached balcony (that you doubt you’ll be using in this chilly weather), and a wooden canopy bed that makes you feel like a royal (that you will certainly be using). It’s separated into two areas, the bed space and a tiny entertainment area on the other side of the room. Perhaps the best thing about the room— and the cabin itself —is the huge, smart TV mounted above said stone fireplace and the fact it allows the phone mirroring option in lieu of not having any streaming sites. And as is with every and anything to do with televisions, Jungkook is the most excited of the two of you. “Baby, look,” he beams, pointing excitedly at whatever he’s got mirrored onto the television this time. Knowing him, it’s probably another documentary.

You had the forethought to finish your work before the trip, spent two days in the office going absolutely ham on this month’s final reports until your department head promptly sent you home to finish the rest there. You had given yourself a fright upon entering the bathroom that night, the state of your under eyes so severe, you feared it was sufficient cause for a national emergency. Similarly, Jungkook had done the same with his work, cooped himself up in his study until he was free from the shackles of capitalism for the weekend. All this to say you’ve missed him these past few days.

But even though you’re sorely malnourished in the affection department and craving a good kiss or two, you wouldn’t dare interrupt one of Jungkook’s little nerdy, tech-induced fanboy moments. They’re cute, in their own geeky way, providing some insight to a mellower side of your boyfriend who looks on with childlike wonder; Jungkook’s eyes always get so big when he talks about nerdy stuff. You get to work hanging up the silk shirt he packed for tomorrow night’s fancy dinner at the resort, listening to some British narrator’s detailed description of the functionally extinct Northern white rhinos living under 24-hour surveillance in Kenya.

(Jungkook’s really into nature documentaries again, had spent a few nights sniffling as he watched that one Koko the gorilla film.)

The original plan was to head to the nearest store and whip up something small to eat at the cabin. But Jungkook is a little tired from the long drive, slumps down into the couch in front of the now lit fireplace like a limbless blob as he tunes into his documentary. His nose is a little red from the outside chill. It’s so cute. He’s so cute. You love him so much, you fear you’ll accidentally squeeze his cheeks to death. It’s a thought that occurs more times than you’d like.

According to the pamphlet on the nightstand, the resort has its own room-service to order from. Normally you would do that, but not this time; you had gotten into a bit of a squabble with the man at the front desk after he had tried to withhold Jungkook’s reservation for arriving two minutes past your check-in time, called each other all sorts of names before he backed down and gave you your room key. So you’re still a little salty, to say the least. Instead, you settle in for some pizza in front of the huge TV, calling up the nearest place to order some of Jungkook’s and your favorites.

You plop down beside him, instinctively cuddling closer when he wraps an arm around your shoulders. “So,” you start, flipping through the rest of the resort’s introductory pamphlet. There’s a loud roar on screen. In all honesty, you didn’t even know what Northern white rhinos sounded like until then, and you probably never would have if not for the man beside you. “What are you in the mood for tonight, sweet boy?”

You’re not sure if it’s the fatigue or the overall relaxed vibes he’d been exuding since the moment you entered the cabin, but Jungkook is weirdly cooperative today. “Whatever you want,” he responds, head on your shoulder. He even places the remote in your hands, gives your enclosed fist a gentle tap as if he’s just handed you the secret to eternal youth. In other words, it’s a rare sight to behold. “This is your trip, pretty girl.”

You appreciate the sentiment, but feel the need to clear the air, tucking your feet up onto the couch as you snuggle closer. “Our trip,” you clarify, and snatch the remote anyway before he changes his mind.

Jungkook releases a quiet huff of laughter, head rolling back against the couch cushions to display his thick, juicy neck that definitely doesn’t awaken any vampiric tendencies in you. “We can even watch some anime if you want,” he murmurs, casually throwing an arm around your shoulders in a way that would have made any teenage girl in the early 2000s squeal with excitement. It’s one of those barely there touches, but the way he holds you makes you feel so safe and warm and loved. So loved and in love. “The ones on Crunchyroll, though.”

For the sake of preserving these good vibes (and your ears [and Jungkook’s sanity]), you navigate to the Crunchyroll app on your phone, quickly finding your latest obsession and mirroring it onto the big television before Jungkook can react. “Sailor Moon?” he asks with a tone that implies a feigned interest, mostly out of respect for you; he’s, sadly, still not the big dorky anime fan you had hoped to convert him into.

“In the name of the moon, I’ll punish you,” you recite dutifully, snatching up the throw blanket on the end of the couch. It’s barely big enough to cover the both of you, has Jungkook’s outstretched legs and your booty subject to the chilly air. Who cares, Jungkook is a furnace anyway.

He snorts. “Punish me,” he mumbles, as if he doesn’t believe it. His snarky comment wins him a playful pinch against his doughy cheek, not that he particularly defends himself against it anyway, eyes fluttering shut as you tug at the pale skin.

“Don’t fuck with the moon, Jungkook,” you warn him, snuggling closely against his side as your favorite opening song begins filtering through the speakers of the television before you. It’s infinitely better than the 240p YouTube clips you had subjected yourself to the entire last week, the graphics scarily clear.

“Right, of course,” Jungkook says, but a hint of amusement seems to curl around the sound anyway. Nevertheless, he lets it go, cuddles into your side as you pour your full focus into watching yet another group of ragtag teenagers with supernatural abilities kick some ass.

You can tell Jungkook isn’t really into it, and you’re torn between just snuggling him into a well deserved nap or taping his eyelids open so he can become a fan of this show with you.

The loving, caring, adoring side of you says Jungkook deserves the entire world and more (the more in question preferably being a fluffy blanket and a nap). He worked hard this week, just like you, and on top of that he was the one who planned this entire weekend getaway for the two of you to enjoy. You want him to rest up.

The obnoxiously in love girlfriend-slash-best friend in you says Jungkook is sorely missing out on one of the greatest shows on planet Earth and that naps are for the weak.

Your jumbled thoughts are interrupted by a loud sound on the television, a yelp from Ms. Sailor Moon herself that has you jolting up in surprise. Jungkook welcomes you deeper into his embrace, chuckles at your little fright. “Scared?” he teases in that low voice that makes you feel like you’re going crazy, really. So crazy and irrational, and the only thing that stops you from bombarding him with an unexpected outpouring of love is that hard and sharp thing that pokes your side when you get too close to him. It’s not Jungkook, sadly, but something in the front pocket of his hoodie instead.

And for some reason, part of your brain is stuck all of a sudden, rewinding the last two and a half years like a broken cassette tape that had the tape reel hastily stuffed back inside by a toddler. It’s choppy to say the least, and it certainly doesn’t help when Jungkook calls your name softly, tenderly. “__,” he murmurs. It’s a little weird; it’s not often he says your name, mostly referring to you with one of the many pet names from that part of his vocabulary that focuses exclusively on terms of endearment. Your heart skips a beat.

Now, if anyone were to ask, it’s approximately around this time that you begin to spiral. The pink curve of his bottom lip is just too close, the mole on his nose too prominent. Paired with the obnoxious tittering of Usagi on screen, you can feel your thoughts begin to overlap, bumping into each other within the realm of your brain until all that comes out are the messiest of messy thoughts.

They go like this:

Most episodes of any anime run for approximately thirty minutes. Take out the commercial breaks, the opening and ending credits, and it becomes something closer to twenty. Twenty minutes per episode, filled with plot and gags and tears and whatever else necessary to make you feel something, anything really.

“What’s in your pocket?” you ask tentatively.

In contrast, it takes approximately two seconds for Jungkook’s lips to quirk up— first the right side, always the right side —and his eyes to crinkle. Two seconds for him to smile, a sweet expression that reminds you of Netflix and college and quiet laughter and tattoos and silly YouTube videos and cookies and cell phones and job applications and blond hair; two seconds to make you feel everything all at once.

“There’s nothing,” he says, but his cheeks are pink, and it’s not from the cold anymore. His smile is so big it makes your own cheeks ache just looking at it. You can’t even hear the television anymore. Never mind the fact you really like Sailor Moon, or that you really want to pay attention to every little detail; the moment becomes Jungkook and his big smile and his red cheeks and the tiny box he produces from within his pocket. “It was supposed to be for tomorrow,” he admits, unwrapping his arm from around you.

It’s a little funny, somehow, because his hands are covered in ink, in tiny doodles and intricate pieces of swirls and words that ooze this aura of strength and toughness. But they tremble when he opens it, as unsteady as a wispy dandelion on a windy day, fumbling with the box. And when you look closely, he’s been biting at the skin along his thumb again, that nervous habit you’ve been trying forever to help him overcome.

Someone is saying something on screen, something important to the plot. The volume is loud, but not as loud as your heart. Not as loud as Jungkook’s quiet murmur when he speaks again. “Will you marry me?” he asks softly, looks at you with flushed cheeks and big eyes and his heart on his sleeve.

The answer has always been the same, hasn’t changed since the first time he planted the seed in your mind. Still, it catches in your throat, nearly loses out to a surprised and emotional sob that you barely manage to bite down. You had just been speaking, had just been ready to deliver a whole spiel on the importance of him watching Sailor Moon with you. But when you try now, it’s raspy and dry, as if you haven’t used your voice in years. “I— yes,” you exhale, surprised by the lonely tear that trails down your cheek. You go to wipe it away, but Jungkook beats you with a gentle hand cupping your cheek.

His smile is wobbly, patches of red blossoming across his face that eventually consume his entire appearance as he leans his forehead against yours. Only then do you realize he’s crying, and you laugh out of reflex. “You’re crying,” you say, and Jungkook snorts.

“You cried first,” he sniffles, smiling. “You made me cry.”

He looks like a wreck, but, like, a hot wreck. An engaged, hot wreck who’s eyes flicker back to the TV to remind you to pause your anime, always so considerate. You do, hastily smashing buttons on the remote before remembering it’s controlled by your phone, hands flying back and forth as your nerves actively work to retire themselves after Jungkook’s proposal. “Easy there,” he soothes, eventually catching your hand in his, drawing it up for a kiss against your knuckles.

The ring fits perfectly, snuggly. Vaguely, a memory drifts through your thoughts of Jungkook and Doyeon on a rampant mission to reorganize your jewelry box a few months ago, but it disappears as quickly as it came. You’re taken by the ring, a simple band with a pretty diamond on top. It’s a good mixture of you and him; flashy yet mild.

“You love me,” you marvel, a revelation you’ve had the honor of experiencing time and time again with Jungkook. Still, it never fails to render you speechless. He hums.

“I do,” he says, taking your hand in his. “It’s the easiest thing for me. Like breathing, or existing. I think I was made to love you.” And normally, you’d be the first one to correct him. Jungkook was made for so much more, a fact he’s proven time and time again with his abilities and the sheer size of his heart. He was your golden boy, could do anything he set his mind to. Always amazing you, always making you fall in love all over again.

But now, with the weight of his words sitting heavy in the air, you find yourself incapable of negating the fact, instead sniffling at the meaning.

Pleased with your silence, Jungkook places another chaste kiss against your ring. “I love you, __,” he confesses, voice nearly a whisper. Your entire body feels as if it is doused in gasoline, lit aflame over and over again. Your heart threatens your rib cage, pounds away with the strength of a world renowned boxer. Jungkook’s hands curl around your wrists carefully. “I used to think we were like the moon and the sun,” he admits, “that you were my sun and I was your moon. In love but always separated by those thin veils of the sunrise and the sunset.” He pauses, nuzzling sweetly against your palm once more before gently guiding them down between the two of you. “But that really sucks— saying goodbye to you every night? I hate that, __. I hate watching you leave, I hate watching you run off in the mornings or halfway through the day, having to drive back and forth from your place to mine. I hate having to be away from you when all I wanna do is hold you. I— I want to be by your side,” he rambles, eyes nervously meeting yours. They’re still glassy, dark lashes framing his chocolate irises wonderfully. “Forever.”

Your heartbeat stutters, the simple word looping itself in your mind like that night in his dining room all over again, all the fantasies of having a forever with Jungkook bubbling to the surface. Jungkook pushes on. “You are my sun,” he says softly, mostly to himself. “But… I don’t wanna be the moon anymore. Being the moon means, eventually, I’ll have to say goodbye. In the night or in the morning, it always comes to an end. And I don't want there to be an end with you,” he insists, clutching your hand tightly. “I wanna be another star, the closest one to you. The one who gets to be with you forever. I wanna be by you and shine with you and—“

“Explode into a gazillion little fragments of cosmic dust with me,” you offer, and Jungkook nods along eagerly, too amped up on his speech to bother scolding you for your playful comment.

“Yes, I want to— to—“ The words catch in his throat. So much emotion from the man you once thought was the dictionary definition of calm and collected. “To—“

“Marry me,” you fill in, and Jungkook practically blows a fuse from how emotionally fired up he’s become, exclaiming a resolute, “yes!” that leaves you stupidly grinning back at him.

His outburst leaves him with flushed cheeks. “I do,” he reiterates in a softer tone, averting his gaze from you as if embarrassed by his cheesy outpouring of emotion. Usually, it’s the other way around; you make all the corny declarations of love and Jungkook laughs along suavely. It feels nice to have the tables turned.

There’s so much to say, but the words all fade away when Jungkook shyly looks at you again. You settle on tackling him back onto the couch cushions, taking his surprised little yelp in stride as you suffocate him in your embrace. “Save those words for the big day, superstar,” you giggle, peppering his red face with tiny kisses that make him scrunch up cutely. “I can’t wait to blow up into one huge supernova with you.”

Beneath you, Jungkook groans. “I’m sorry,” he huffs, voice muffled against your shoulder. Begrudgingly, his arms come up to envelope you, pulling you closer until the blanket scrunches up uncomfortably between you two. “That must’ve sounded so lame.”

Leaning back so you’re not completely squishing him, you carefully push his silvery hair away from his forehead. “Don’t be,” you assure him, placing one chaste peck against his pouty lips. “I thought it was cute. I didn’t know you were into astrology.”

A sigh. “Astronomy,” he corrects, “astrology has to do with zodiac signs and placements.”

You run your thumbs over his cheeks, collecting any of the drying tears that paint his face. “Oh, like how you’re a Virgo and I’m a“—

The TV remote you had lost somewhere along the way is suddenly rematerialized beneath your knee, sends the speakers blaring to life with a deafening screech that has both you and Jungkook leaping up like two frightened cats. “You always do this,” he laughs, that loud boyish sound that makes you feel like you’re sitting on a cloud. He watches you with a gentle smile as you hurriedly shut off the television, the remote haphazardly tossed somewhere behind you afterwards. You return to his embrace, wrap your arms around his waist and snuggle into his warmth. His heart thumps a steady rhythm beneath your ear.

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever,” you warn him, clutching at the fabric of his shirt like he’ll suddenly disintegrate before your eyes.

Above you, Jungkook hums, placing a kiss against the crown of your head. “I look forward to it,” he responds, pulling you impossibly closer, until you can feel the wrinkles in his shirt imprinting themselves against your cheek. He’s back to being that suave bastard again, and you find yourself wishing you had milked those big crocodile tears out of him for just a little bit longer.

Fingers gently press against the muscles in your nape, push themselves in deeply until you can feel all the tension seeping out, turning you into a limbless blob over Jungkook. “Jeez,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. “And you wanted to wait until tomorrow.”

He huffs out a laugh. “I just thought you’d rather get engaged at a fancy restaurant with a pretty dress,” he defends, and you can hear the grin on his face. “For the photos.”

“Fair point,” you concede, eventually pushing yourself up so you’re not entirely squishing your boyfriend beneath you. Jungkook is already looking at you when you lift your head, has got this funny double-chin from this angle that makes his normally sharp jawline disappear. You find yourself tapping a finger against his chin, on the chocolate chip mole that hides itself beneath his plump bottom lip. “If anything, just propose to me again tomorrow at the restaurant.”

It wins you an eye-roll. “I’m not gonna propose to you again tomorrow,” he laughs, doesn’t even push you away when you become annoying and start tapping your fingers against all his beauty marks like you’re playing Whack-a-Mole.

“Booo,” you frown, but let it go soon enough, foregoing your little game to press your lips against his. “Then I better make this a night to remember,” you murmur, tilting your head to the side.

Your hands dip into his luscious locks, fingernails tracing thin lines along his scalp that are certain to send tingles down his spine. As predicted, Jungkook releases a quiet groan soon after, a sound that’s muffled against your own lips. He’s pliant tonight, but not in a way that would elude fatigue. Pliant in a way that suggests he wants you to take the reins tonight, exhaling softly against you as he parts his lips.

“Let me take care of you,” you hum, the hand that had been mindlessly hovering along his cheek drifting down to caress the side of his neck. Jungkook nods, his irises swimming in lust. You smile at his silent compliance, give his throat a light squeeze that makes his breathing hitch in surprise.

He’s always at his prettiest when he’s beneath you like this, limbs moving in slow motion as you guide him along. You can already feel the beginnings of his arousal stirring beneath the front of his sweats, his cock slowly making its presence known against your thigh. You press your lips against his once more, making sure to make it rougher than the first kiss. Your tongue is met with little resistance, slips past his lips and dips into the hot cave of his mouth where Jungkook releases another trembling breath.

Two hands come up behind you, trail themselves over your back and down to your ass, where he gives the two globes a tight squeeze. It draws a whimper out of you, one that Jungkook greedily swallows up. His tongue rubs up along yours, the wet muscle daringly pushing back against yours. His rebelliousness is only quelled with another press of your fingertips around his throat.

“Slow down,” you tell him. The first roll of your hips against him is slow, cruel in that you cut the motion short just as Jungkook begins to push back. A bratty huff escapes him, swollen pink lips pushing out into that endearing pout you love so much. It makes you grin, releasing the grip around his throat to carefully brush a stray strand of hair away from his eyes.

It’s a gesture that works to soften Jungkook as well, the petulant look on his face melting away as you trail your pointer finger along his cheekbone. It’s replaced with a more tender one, dark lashes blinking up at you slowly. “Open,” you command upon reaching his mouth, finger pressing down against his pink lower lip. Jungkook obeys, opening his mouth until you can see his pink tongue and the dark abyss that leads down his throat. Your finger pushes itself in, and Jungkook certainly doesn’t try to resist. His lips suction around the digit fairly quickly, tight enough to keep you there but loose enough for you to slowly draw your finger in and out, each short plunge pressing down against his tongue.

It’s a rather short affair, one that comes to an end when he accidentally bucks up against you, pressing his hardened member against your core. You retract your finger. “Can you,” he tries, but his cheeks are stained red and he refuses to meet your gaze. “Just…”

You intercept him with a chaste peck, maneuvering your legs until your knees are firmly pressed into the couch cushions beneath him, his thin waist trapped in between. When you sit up, you feel drunk on power and the way Jungkook looks up at you certainly doesn’t help. “Can I sit on your face?”

He chokes. “I— sure, please,” he blurts out. His gaze follows you as you slip off of him, quickly discarding your pants and top on the floor. One pat against his thigh has him hurrying to shimmy out of his clothes, his sweatpants caught around his ankles.

“You’re excited,” you laugh, stripping him of his bottoms when the frustration takes him over.

Jungkook scoffs. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, tugging his shirt off with one smooth motion. The ink around his bicep is as dark as ever, contrasts wonderfully against his warm face. “My fiancée is gonna sit on my face.”

The title makes you preen, quickly finding your place on his lap once more. With your clothing out of the way, Jungkook really does become a furnace. Every inch of his body is hot to the touch, soft too. “Fiancée,” you giggle, hands on his chest. They slide down, fingers playfully nudging his brown nipples. Jungkook flinches at the touch. “Gonna sit on my fiancé’s face,” you parrot back, delicately pinching one nipple between your fingers. A moan spills from his lips, his cock pushing against your thigh once more.

It’s the reminder you need, pushing back dutifully against him as you continue to toy with his chest. He’d look pretty with piercings, you find yourself thinking, watching on in fascination at the way his pert nipples stand at attention. Beneath you, Jungkook begins to grow desperate, his hands finding their place on your waist to encourage you to grind down against him once more.

Jungkook swears up and down that he’s not particularly sensitive about having his nipples touched. But when you’ve got him like this, sinfully laid out before you, you can easily confirm that his claims are nothing but lies. He loves having his nipples touched, squirms beneath you impatiently with each playful tug and twist you bestow upon them.

You duck down, pressing a kiss against his pectoral, just beside his nipple, and Jungkook’s entire body shivers. A few careful drags of your tongue against his warm skin only serve to string him along further, the prettiest whimper pulling itself from his lips when you finally envelope one of them in your mouth. “Wait,” he gasps, clawing at your clothing as if he both wants to push you off and push you closer. You grin, brandishing one mean nip at the sensitive nub.

Eventually, your incessant need to play with Jungkook’s chest is fulfilled. “Lay back,” you instruct, watching as he shuffles down flat on the cushions, silver hair tumbling away from his eyes. He’s so red, eyes hazy. Your panties are discarded, joining the ever growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Once upon a time, the idea of sitting on Jungkook’s face had terrified you, filled you with nightmares of crushing his windpipe or breaking his nose. For the most part, they’re pretty unrealistic fears, ones that can be easily shut down after one careful Google search on safe sexual practices. These days, it’s all too easy; in the mornings, especially, it’s become natural for him to guide you on top carefully, holding your hand as you whimper and sob over his face.

In the current moment, you find yourself stroking a hand down the side of his face, completely enamored with the huge puppy eyes he levels your way. Jungkook likes having your pussy in his face just as much as you do, loves making you feel good in any way he knows how. But there’s a separate matter at hand, one that stands at attention beneath his black boxers and successfully wins your attention.

Truthfully, there is no dilemma to ponder over; you want both to ride Jungkook’s face and suck him off. The solution?

“We’ve never done this before,” Jungkook mumbles in amazement, his voice slightly muffled from his position beneath you and slightly behind you. Still, his arms dutifully wrap around your thighs, guiding you closer to his mouth where his hot breath fans against your glistening folds. You rock back willingly, hands preoccupied with pushing his boxers down and away from his engorged cock.

“Really?” you ask, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with the cock before you and the tongue that gently laps at your folds. Jungkook makes a sound, something between a hum and whimper, his mouth slowly getting to work against your folds. “M- Maybe,” you stutter, all thought processes coming to a halt as you carefully take him in your hand.

His cock is hard and long, his tip an angry shade that weeps with precum. From this angle, you get to watch Jungkook’s huge thighs twitch at the sensation, the tattoo that marks up one of them doing little to hide the fact. Your hand squeezes him, watches in awe as another fat droplet oozes out of his tip. A moan tears itself from his throat, and it’s so goddamn sexy it nearly drives you insane.

It’s one particularly long lap of his tongue over your clit that sends you into action, back arching at the tingles that shoot down your spine. Wasting no more time, you guide Jungkook’s cock into your mouth, let your own tongue shower his mushroom tip in kitten licks that have him bucking upwards. He releases your clit with a lewd pop, hot breath fanning across your lips. “Fuck,” he gasps, voice harsh.

Admittedly, it’s more difficult than you thought it would be.

You’re not one to be easily overwhelmed (says you), but with Jungkook’s twitching cock in your mouth and his teasing tongue dipping into your entrance, it becomes hard to juggle your attention between the two. Even Jungkook, who is quite frankly the master of cunnilingus, seems torn between the two, his breathing shallow and quick against your folds.

With each slow descent around his cock, he shudders, thigh muscles tightening in anticipation. It causes a lull in the pace of his tongue, the generous kisses and licks against your folds subject to a somewhat uneven pace that, surprisingly, leaves you more on edge than you’d ever expected it to; right when you think he’s about to suck your clit into his mouth, you’re met with a harsh exhale instead, one that makes your lips flutter.

You’re both disappointed in yourselves for never having tried this mind-blowing position before, and equal parts understanding as to why you haven’t tried this position before— it’s a lot. His cock is halfway down your throat when it twitches, sends a gush of precum into your mouth that has your eyes rolling backwards, a whine slipping out around him. Jungkook appreciates the vibrations, letting it fuel him as he plunges his tongue into your hole. It’s a two way street, you realize, one that is constantly experiencing traffic.

“Baby,” you gasp, pulling off of his cock with a slick sound, hypnotized by the trail of saliva that connects your lips to his tip. Jungkook’s tongue prods along your slit, makes your eyesight go blurry when the tip of his nose brushes along you as well. The idea of his cute nose buried deep someplace it shouldn’t be has you grinding down on him. “We can— we should stop,” you stutter, your trembling hand reaching forward to grasp the base of his cock.

He’s slick with your saliva and his precum, and your hand makes a squelching sound upon contact. It must feel good, because Jungkook moans against your folds, his thighs unconsciously falling farther apart as you slowly jerk him off. You think you might’ve heard your name slip from his lips, but your mind is fuzzy, lost in your lust as Jungkook licks a sinful line from your hole to your clit, curling his tongue at the end. “J- Jungkook,” you cry, flinching away because it’s become too much, your toes curling as the beginnings of an orgasm threaten you.

Before that can happen, he relents, leaning back with a heavy exhale, his hands loosening their grip against your ass and plopping back down against the cushions. “Fuck,” he pants, his cock twitching in your hold. A lonely droplet of precum trails down the side, your knuckles coated in the glossy substance. Beneath you, Jungkook rubs one soothing palm against your hip.

You slink off before he can get any funny ideas, maneuver yourself around until you’re kneeling between his parted thighs, his fat cock standing at attention between the two of you. From here, he looks ravenous, and you begin to question who exactly is taking care of who. Jungkook looks like he’s a second away from pinning you down and swallowing you whole, a thought that makes your toes curl.

It’s with a cautiously horny hand that you reach for his cock again, holding him with both hands. Jungkook growls, head lolling backwards until all you can see is his neck and his chin, thick veins protruding along his skin. Jungkook doesn’t waste a moment longer. “C’mere,” he purrs, hauling you up until you’re clumsily leaning over him, palms framing his face. A lone finger runs down your spine, its faint touch making you arch forward. “Sorry,” he says, securing an arm around your waist. “I know you wanted to take care of me, but…”

You roll your eyes, submitting yourself to his clutches as he masterfully rolls the two of you over. The couch is soft beneath your back, and Jungkook looks pretty from above too. “You just can’t sit still, can you?” you murmur playfully.

Jungkook’s forearms find their place beneath your thighs, the fold of the back of your knee perfectly slotted against his warm skin as he shuffles closer. “Maybe another time,” he laughs along sheepishly, his hard cock gliding over your slit, teasing your clit. You gulp, eyes scanning over his lean build as if it’s the first time. “Sorry,” he repeats, but he’s got this stupidly dopey grin on his face as he glances down at your pussy; he’s insane, he’s got to be, what man makes heart eyes at a pussy?

Your man, apparently. Grasping the base of his cock, Jungkook takes care to drag it along your folds collecting your wetness along his length, a deep shudder wracking his body through it all. “I knew you would do this to me,” he mutters, so low you nearly miss it under the thundering sound of your heartbeat.

“Huh,” you mumble, and you’d like to defend yourself and say you weren’t as cock-crazy as Jungkook was coochie-crazy, but that would be a lie. You’re staring at his cock as if it holds the secrets to the universe right now.

Jungkook juts his head to the side, a motion similar to the one he does when he’s trying to crack his neck. His tongue prods along his cheek, eyes laser-focused on the point where your two bodies meet. “From the moment you walked into my house,” he grunts mindlessly, finally lining himself up with your entrance. He chances a glance up, meets your gaze with a patient look, “all good?”

“All good,” you hurriedly reply, fingers finding their place against his broad shoulders. With the way he had prepared you earlier, mouthed along your clit and your folds until you were pleasantly aroused, the glide now is too easy. Tight, but easy, has the two of you releasing twin moans that echo off the wooden walls of the cabin.

Jungkook’s forehead is covered in a thin veil of sweat, one that glistens when the evening sunset pours in through the balcony doors, highlighting him in a golden light that makes you dizzy. The angry tip of his cock sinks into your walls, Jungkook’s ashy strands sticking to his forehead and his cheeks. For some reason, you find yourself reminiscing on the aforementioned moment Jungkook had spoken of. Of the soft sweater he’d worn that day and the dinner he had made, the blond tips on his chestnut hair and the way he’d clung onto every word you’d said.

It makes you tear up, and, after laughing at Jungkook early for crying, you quickly turn your face away.

Jungkook isn’t dumb. “What now,” he chuckles, though his breathing is labored, every inch of his cock that penetrates you further bringing with it another rush of adrenaline. At the hilt, you’re embarrassed to say there’s multiple tears streaming down your face, so you can’t even play it off as you usually do. “Crybaby,” Jungkook teases, but his voice is so soft and tender you don’t know what to do with yourself.

“Just move,” you bite out, shamefully covering your face with your hands. Jungkook leans over you, the movement pushing his dick deeper inside of you, your walls clenching around him. A kiss is placed over your knuckles, just shy of your engagement ring. Your chest lurches with a silent sob. “Jungkook,” you whimper, sinking further into the cushion, “please, just—“

“I got it,” he assures you, placing one final peck against your handmade (literally) shield. And then, so quietly you almost miss it, he makes sure to whisper, “love you,” before unsheathing himself.

You shudder, your heart feeling so full, you fear it’ll burst. You both love and hate when he treats you like this, like an ice sculpture in the scorching heat that has him doing everything he can to keep you solid. His touch is soft, the roll of his hips too slow for your liking. You feel so small and vulnerable— too pampered. “Harder,” you beg, your voice an airy whine that has Jungkook chuckling above you.

He lives to please you, hiking your leg over his shoulder with a renewed vigor. His hands find themselves on your waist, forcefully pinning you down against the couch cushions as he sets upon fulfilling your latest request. The next series of thrusts are jerky, have you jostling in his grip as Jungkook pounds into you with an all new mindset. “Lemme see you,” he huffs, thumbs painfully digging into your skin. You tremble in his arms, heart swayed by the quiet plea in his voice. “Let me see your face, pretty girl.”

Reluctantly, you do, brandishing your tear-stricken face his way. Jungkook smiles, that stupidly handsome smile, his hips snapping into you roughly. “Fuck,” he moans, the expression never leaving his face, even when run your nails over his chest harshly. “You’re so pretty.”

You ignore him for the sake of your already weakened mental state, focusing instead on the brutal force of his hips, the way his cock stretches your walls out. Each push has you seeing stars, thighs quivering from the sensations that shoot up your spine and down your toes. “Oh,” you mewl, hands gripping his biceps as you lose yourself to him. Your eyes roll back, vision a mess of colors and nothingness all at once.

“Is this hard enough?” Jungkook husks out, and he sounds so close. His proximity is confirmed when his mouth slots against yours, his harsh breath mingling with your own as he continues to frantically buck into your inviting heat, each new round of thrusts leaving you weaker and weaker than before. “God,” Jungkook cries, the sound nearly lost beneath your own moans and whimpers. “Gonna k- keep you forever,” he spits, tongue slipping into your mouth.

He’s messier than usual, moves with unrefined movements unlike his normal self. You don’t care, you love him all the same. His sloppy kisses turn into desperate ones, matching the pace of his hips. “Kook,” you sob, arms wrapping themselves around his neck, pulling him close until his thrusts are reduced to a shallower depth.

“I’ve got you,” he croons, lips against your jawline. His cock presses in and you swear you feel it alongside every inch of your walls, a warmth blossoming in your stomach. He’s layering messy kisses down your face now, lips sucking dark marks any chance he gets.

True to his word, Jungkook indeed has you. His cock pistons in and out at an astonishing pace, each surge into your folds making you dizzy over and over again. It’s a feeling you fear you’ll never grow tired of, in fact, it’s a feeling you fear you��ll begin to crave even more in the future. The good thing is, that future will extend into forever.

You yank him towards you, swallow his low laughter with your lips. Jungkook doesn’t complain, lowering himself until he’s practically squishing you beneath his beefy body, cock ramming in and out despite all that. His tongue glides along yours, makes it his mission to muffle each of your cries.

It doesn’t take long for you to be fulfilled. Given the fact you had sucked him off like a lollipop whilst having him eat you out, you’re not entirely surprised. That and the emotions of tonight have you melting into him sooner than you’d like, his name falling from your lips as your thighs clamp down around his waist. Jungkook takes it in stride, slows the maddening pace of his hips to cradle you in his arms. You’re like jelly, practically flop back into the cushion when he slips an arm beneath you. “You’re so good for me,” Jungkook praises, lavishing your throat in tiny pecks as his orgasm circles around. “My pretty girl.”

“Love you,” you sigh, and your body feels numb, his intrusion but a small touch now that he’s tired you out once more, your walls tender and raw. Jungkook presses a smile against your throat and, moments later, releases inside of you.

Even minutes after the deed, the feeling refuses to return to your legs. He didn’t go that hard— well, you’re not entirely sure. The memories always become blurry toward the end of your escapades. Everything rushes back in waves, and for some reason, your first thought is, “where’s Sailor Moon?”

Your post-rump conversations have never been the most coherent, usually filled with pretty weird thoughts and ideas. Still, more grand things have happened tonight for you to be worried about a magical anime girl. Jungkook draws himself out of your core with a huff of laughter. “On the TV,” he answers, unfazed by the oddity of your question.

That’s how you know he’s a keeper.

It takes a while, but eventually Jungkook responds. “Avocado toast,” he says, though his answer is dripping with uncertainty. He’s naked as the day he was born, snuggled up beside you in bed. He’s propped up on one arm, looking down at you over the ample swell of his manly bosom. It takes everything in you to keep your hands off his chest.

“Correct,” you respond, “and what movie did we watch?”

Without missing a beat, “Transformers, the first one.”

You nod, glancing at the ceiling as you rack your brain for any other trivia questions to ask your fiancé. “The title of the playlist you made?”

A flush paints his cheeks. “Date Night playlist,” he answers through a pout, reprimanding you for bringing up such a memory with a flick to your forehead. You wince. “I was young and silly,” he defends.

You beam, cuddling into his side until he’s forced to lay back down. “Yeah, yeah,” you tease. “We’re only gonna get older from here,” you lament. You’d say it’s difficult to picture him with a gray head of hair, but his current silvery locks don’t leave much room for your imagination.

Jungkook pulls you close. A beat of silence passes, and then, “so who are we telling first?”

Definitely Namjoon.

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

sun in the shadows (13)

word count; 12,860

summary; your final exam is right on the horizon, and on the other side of it, you and noah have a much-needed conversation.

notes; I mean you’re welcome but also ouch.

warnings; get a glass of wine and come back.

The pair were already chatting when you arrived, the same setting but a different day, a coffee shop you only had a few trips left to visit before your time on campus was over.

They had found themselves nestled away at a table you’d rarely frequented, in fact, you weren’t sure you’d ever sat at it, but it somehow seemed fitting for your final few trips. Tucked away near the back, a square-shaped table with a stack of sugar packets wedged under one of the legs to stop it from wobbling, but still a direct sight from the door, only partially hidden by the counter.

They were playing ‘rock, paper, scissors’, over what, you weren’t sure, but you’d take a guess it was to do with the almost empty plastic cups sitting out in front of the pair. Stiles lost, dramatically whining, and with every step closer to the table you could hear his mumbled complaints louder and louder as he stood, patting down his pockets, and producing his wallet from the back one.

“Oh, now you decide to arrive, right when I’m buying the next round. Seems right.” He was teasing, but you rolled your eyes at him nonetheless, and your jaw dropped for a second to give him your order, but he was waving his hand.

“You’ll both take what you get. It’s a surprise.” There was a wicked grin on his face, one that made you doubt you’d get anything decent, probably a weird mixture of syrups and sprinkles and tea, or something worse, but he was already walking away from you, a blurred mixture of flapping flannel as he swept into the late afternoon crowds.

Dropping down the considerably smaller stack of folders and files onto the table, and placing your bag by the leg of the table, you pulled out one of to remaining seats. Sitting opposite to the boys’ seats, the quieter of the two, who remained, was sitting unsettlingly still before you. Glancing up at him as you settled yourself, he let out a slow breath, shoulders sink as his head hung low, staring down at the scratched-up surface of the well-worn tabletop.

“You guys been here long, then?”

“Uh, not really. We came early, so take no mind of Stiles.” He didn’t look up, continuing to stare at the table, one finger now tracing one of the deeper scratches that were marked into the wood, and his response made you frown.

“Are you alright, Noah?” He only shrugged, and you stayed silent, tapping a few times at the top of one of your folders, thick silence sitting between you both despite the noise of the bustling little café. He was cold, once again, and yet not as cold as he had been. He was distant, completely dispatched from you as though your history had ever happened at all, and the feeling that you were being shut out was back.

It was chilling, the same kind of tension you had forgotten could exist between you both. Something felt like it had changed, the night he’d walked you home from the party had been different, he’d opened up and spoken about how he really felt, and yet now he was reverting right back to the beginning of the study, going back to his old ways, as if that was how he preferred it all to be.

“Are you sure?”

He looked up this time, nothing in his eyes but honesty as he nodded, another soft shrug like it was the only answer he was capable of giving. Your only shoulders sunk, disappointed at his behaviour, and that seemed to spark a flash of guilt to come up across his features, no matter how hard he tries to keep them steady. “I’m fine. Just thinking about this evening, is all.”

“Oh, you have plans?” He’d dropped a line, one you were truly hoping you’d be able to pick up, pull along a little more, delve deeper with, but the blank and unreadable expression was back, his brows a little furrowed and his lips twisted down at the edges, but not enough to wrinkle the pale, freckled skin.

“Uh, yeah. Boyd invited me to go and watch the game with a couple of people at his place. Erica is making cookies, apparently.” You only nodded, mouth dry with nothing to say, and he seemed to realise it, the silence coming back as he squirmed in his seat. Glancing to the counter, Stiles was now at the front of the queue, placing his order and swiping his card across the screen before putting it back in his wallet, and your focus moved to the files under your hand, finding your nail still tapping. “You keep up with football much?”

Stopping the nervous action of your hand, you laid your palms flat against the paper folders instead, shaking your head debut letting your smile grow a little as some of the tension slipped away. “Not really, just enough to fool people.”

A huffed out laugh was all that the joke had earned you, but it was at least a gesture, something the Noah you’d started this work with so long ago would have covered up, the development was certainly something. “You keep up with any other sports?”

And then, with that question, it clicked. You couldn't stop your laugh. It was light and delicate, nothing too sincere as it wasn’t actually that funny, but the spark of humour it had given you was enough. Glittering curiosity was read in deep-brown eyes, and you relaxed, slumping back in your seat as you tried to find the words to explain it to him without making him feel self-conscious.

“What’s so funny?”

“You’re using small talk on me.” One of his brows raised, the thick spot twitching as it lifted, and your grin only stretched. “The method I taught you, of making the other person talk to fill the silence, asking questions, and all that.”

“Well, it seemed less awkward than sitting in silence.” He smiled with his own words, but it was empty, and the emptiness of it shot a chill through your body, making your smile flicker, until it was sinking away, and you tried not to let a frown replace it. You hated to think that was what you had been reduced to, simply awkward silence and pure tension, instead of the relaxed and happy space you’d once been able to share without words needing to fill the quiet.

Like a saving grace, Stiles swept in, placing a drink down in front of you that sloppy over the edge, before he was putting another plastic cup down in front of his brother, and slurping at his own immediately, before he’d even sat back down. Mopping up the spilt bit of your drink, Stiles’ chair scraped on the floor, a noise that brought shudders, before dropping down into it with no decorum, and stretching long legs out under the table to bump his feet with yours.

“So, what’d I miss?”

“I don’t know much about football, and that’s about it.” You muttered, regretting the venom you’d managed to let seep into your voice, wincing a little, and ducking your head to stare down at the folders you’d brought with you. If professional and detached was the setting for your meeting, then you’d be able to match that just fine. “What exactly am I drinking, here, Sti? Some kind of weird mixture, I assume?”

“Normally, yes, but they’ve started charging per extra syrup pump that's not part of the drink, and I don’t want to have to pay to prank you.” Stiles shot a false glare to the counter as he spoke, and you grinned, raising it to take a deeper inhale. “So, you’ve just got tea. Hope that works.”

“It’ll be fine.” You promised, pacing it back down and leaving it a few moments to cool, before moving to hand a file out to both of them. Placing the thin paper packets down before them both, their names written neatly at the top of them both in block capitals, their attentions moved to it in synchronicity, and you wanted to snicker at their identical reactions. “These are the final folders. I’ve already typed up everything I need to know for tomorrow and put my presentation together, so this is really just formalities. Go through, sign the documents, just be extra sure there’s nothing you want to be taken out.”

Your eyes drifted to Noah as you said it, watching his face wrinkle a little in the middle as his nose screwed up at the mention of information being taken out or put in, a slightly sensitive topic still, but you tried to move on from it quickly.

“Just both shoot me an email tonight, letting me know if you’re cool with it or if you need any last-minute changes, but that's about it.” You still had a matching folder sitting in front of you, the original copy, a little thicker than theirs though as your own held additions. A typed up version of what you needed to say, a script for your assessment you could call it, with every note and practice question answered that you could possibly think of. When they were ready, you’d be able to start going through it with them.

Stiles flicked through the file a lot faster than Noah moved through his, he already knew what to expect, all the terminology of the contracts and the promises about confidentiality, he had drafted similar contracts of his own for his assessment, but Noah was unfamiliar. His gaze was moving over every word slowly, like he was trying to memorise it all, although you suspected he didn’t have that much interest, but was simply avoiding the topic.

“After this, we’ll be totally done.” Your words were bitter, a test, like they might signify something else, and while Stiles only hummed around his straw, taking another large drink of his frozen coffee, Noah stiffened a little, swallowing thickly and glancing up at you.

“Well, there’s still tomorrow.”

“Yeah, still tomorrow, I guess.” Your voice was weak, more like a whisper, and the stare between you both was lingering. It was like a silent question, spoken by both of you as you tried to decipher the other. your eyes narrowed a little, thoroughly confused by his new attitude, as it seemed completely against everything he’d wanted so deeply weeks ago. It was a topic that had to be discussed, the situation had to be broached at some point, but you couldn't focus on that now, not when you had such important things to worry about, with a much shorter deadline.

Unfortunately, Noah would just have to wait.

With a deep breath, you pushed every last worry you had for him out of your mind. You didn’t know what he was thinking, and what had changed, but whatever it was, it could be dealt with later. Right now, you needed to focus, and you needed to get this right. There were no more times for screw-ups and do-overs, you needed to get it done now. “I do have an online copy of all of these, as well as the physical ones, so once you’ve signed it, I can make PDFs of your contracts and send them over to you. I promise these are professional, all work.”

Running a finger down along the side of one page, near to where all the papers met, Noah glanced up, his finger falling from the edge of the paper, and sitting on the food again. “Extra wide margins?”

“In case you want to make any notes.”

“Ah, okay.” His focus moved back down, not lingering this time, and you didn’t acknowledge the slight longing you had simply to meet his gaze.

“These are also the same versions that I have made copies of for each of the judges to have tomorrow, so again, if there’s anything you ant taken out, you need to let me know.” You prompted, both boys only nodding as their attentions were fixed on the appears, another identical move that was almost too in sync, and you let yourself be amused by it, to fill up some of the empty feeling you suddenly found yourself with. “Do either of you have any new questions ‘bout tomorrow?”

“You have so much more work than I did at this stage.” Stiles hummed, closing his booklet again and resigning himself to properly checking it later. “All my study subjects were prisoners. All their contracts were on a file, and everything had to be submitted as video entries.”

“Not technically a question, more of a gloat.” You grinned, and Stiles smirked, making you roll your eyes at the snicker he offered to accompany it. “You’re starting to make me wish that I was the one who had chosen the prisoner card.” You were only joking, but there was a soft layer of truth to it that you were sure everyone had been able to pick out, because despite seeming like the easier task, it had come with a burden and a lot of pain.

“Oh, you wish that, do you?” Resting his forearms on the table, he was leaning towards you, brows raising challengingly, and you knew that he was gearing up for a story. “I felt like Clarice Starling!”

“You took your big bad boyfriend with you every time, and this isn’t a murder case, Sti.” He scowled, staring at you blankly, and taking the challenge as he settled back in his seat.

“Okay, I’m gonna’ set the scene for you-”

“You’ve really set him off now.” Noah sighed, a tinge of amusement to his voice but neither of you laughed, the tension still seemed a little too much to fully relax. Stiles was taking the attention, though. He was slipping away into a story, occupying the moment, and making sure that all of your attention was on him. Hand waves, sudden jerks, rising in his voice until he was shushed by the surrounding patrons, but this was nothing you weren’t used to with Stiles.

You weren’t sure if he knew how tense it was and was trying to distract you, or whether he was completely oblivious, but either way, he made everything a little easier He gave you something to put attention on, making it a lot easier to forget your constant urge to look over at Stiles, and simply try and listen to his story.

He spoke fast and skipped some important details to get to his favourite parts, it was hard to keep up with it all, but you didn’t mind, because it was enough to fill the quiet, and you were just enjoying spending time with your best friend.

These kinds of moments would be a lot harder to come by in a few weeks. Once Stiles moved across the country to explore and live with Derek, you’d be downgraded from dinner dates and coffee trips to instead texts and phone calls different by timezones, only seeing one another at holidays.

As for Noah, you were unsure what would happen between the two of you after a few weeks. You’d started the year with nothing but wide open nothingness for the future, and at some point, Noah had become interwoven with it all, plans beginning to make themselves known in your mind, but now, you were right back to having no clue where you were going.

The bell above the door jingled, your attention being drawn away from the boys momentarily, and you glanced at it. Upon seeing who had entered, your lips formed a smile, hand waving of its own accord to wave at the tall boy practically filling the entrance, his eyes flickering over the few residents of the coffeeshop until his gaze met yours. Tipping his head back to move bouncy brown curls from his face, white teeth flashed in a smile to you, and he began to weave his way through the crowds.

Moving your sights from him to the clock sitting on the wall, roman numerals instead of numbers behind the hands, you were a little shocked to see just how much time had gone by. A moderately uncomfortable and utterly awkward encounter had slipped away with ease when Stiles had decided to break the tension with his story, one that was being told in the background, but the words had become faded nose to your ears now as your mind had clicked back into action.

Folding shut the folder you had sitting out in front of yourself, you heard Stiles’ voice abruptly go flat as he realised just how long he’d been talking, and you could sense matching sets of brown eyes lingering on you. As you reached for your bag, a lanky shadow fell across the table, scuffed sneakers and funky patterned socks in your sights, two that didn’t match, and as you rose back up to sit straight with your bag clutched in hand, Isaac was grinning at you, hands tucked in his pockets.

“Hey, guys.” He sent a polite nod to the two boys as you set your bag on the table, opening it up and beginning to pack away your scattered belongings inside. Stiles was wearing a bright smile, offering a greeting back before slurping loudly at his drink as he tried to get the last sip through the straw, and Noah wore a deep frown. Your eyes narrowed on him for a second, his gaze flicking to you briefly, before he was turning to look at Isaac again. “You ready to go?”

“Pretty much!” You beamed, hopping down from the seat that you were sat on, and adjusting your bag onto your shoulder, double-checking your gaze across the table in case you’d forgotten anything. Noah was scowling now, your eyes narrowing on him once again, and he picked up his coffee, staring pensively into the barely remaining and now room-temperature liquid, before bringing it to his lips.

“Who the fuck wears scarves in June?” He mumbled, a little louder on purpose because your eyes widened while he took an innocent sip of his coffee, almost choking on it when he received a rather rough elbow to his ribs from his twin, and it was your turn to scowl, in retaliation for his behaviour.

“Hey!” His eyes were wide and falsely innocent as they moved to you upon being chastised, and he lowered his cup, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

“What?” He kept the rouse, and Isaac chuckled beside you as you sighed disappointedly. Freeing a hand from the tight pockets of his even tighter skinny jeans - you really weren’t sure how Isaac was able to breathe in them, actually - he reached across the table.

“You must be Noah, then. My girlfriend told me I could expect that kind of reaction from you.” Noah’s cheeky expression faltered a little as he slipped his hand begrudgingly into Isaac’s, shaking once, but his sights had once again moved to fix on yours. “Speaking of my girlfriend, shall we go and meet her for lunch?”

“Yes, let’s.” You glared at Noah as the frown returned, but a slight pink hue to his cheeks to match it, and Stiles smirked, barely covering a laugh as he stared at his brother for a second longer, before turning back to both you and Isaac.

“Ah, so you’re the roommate’s boyfriend whom I’ve heard so much about?”

“Good things, I hope?” Isaac offered, shooting you a wary glance as he shook Stiles’ hand, and you shrugged, a ‘maybe, maybe not’ added onto the act, simply to tease him further. “Well, it’s been a pleasure finally meeting you both, I hear a lot about you both, too. We should get a drink sometime, or something.”

“We’d like that, wouldn’t we, Noah?” Slinging an arm over his brother’s shoulders, Noah only nodded, avoiding all eye contact now as he held his moody expression, but it was one that you knew well enough to know was utterly fake, and simply for show.

“Okay, well, we’re leaving now. This is terribly awkward, and I hate it.” Patting a finger against the top of Stiles’ folder, you brought their focus back to the study for a final moment. “Remember to email me later, alright?”

“You got it! Totally will do. One hundred percent.”

“I’m serious, Stiles!”

“I know!” He defended, the same silly and amused smirk on his face when he made himself laugh, and youtube yes rolled involuntarily as you let out a sigh. “Go to lunch already, why are you still here?”

“Fine, fine, I’m going.” You waved, moving back and sensing Isaac already walking away, the rattle of keys telling you that he’d fished the set for his card from his pocket. Moving your gaze from Stiles to Noah, he’d dared to look up and meet your eye, gaze flicking over your face carefully, before he let the act go. Shoulders sinking back down from hunched up and features relaxing, he offered a small smile, and it was one that you were able to mimic.

“See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow. Your words came out as a quiet breath, lingering a second longer, before breaking the stare.

Turning your back on him, you quickly caught up with Isaac, who was holding open the door for you, letting you slip back out into the warm summer sun rays. His car was parked just out front, shiny and polished under the light and the windows were still rolled down for fresh air on a hot day, the lights flashing as he unlocked it.

Climbing into the passenger seat, he settled into his side, starting the car up, and pulling out from his parking space. Jazz music played quietly from the radio, and he had barely let a minute pass, before he was pulling up to the first stoplights, and turning to face you, hands flexing against the steering wheel.

“So, that’s Noah, huh?”

“Yeah.” You mumbled, meeting his gaze but unsure of what else there was to say. You simply shrugged, brows dipping slightly in a furrow, and he offered a comforting smile, just a small twist of his lips upwards, before moving his attention back to the roads.

“You know-” Turning down the volume on the radio again as a slightly louder song began to play, trumpets blaring with more excitement than there had been before. “Noah is clearly into you.”

“Yeah, that's what I thought, before he spent the whole time ignoring me.” You huffed, and Isaac only gave a chuckle, like he knew something you didn’t, and your arms crossed over your chest, slumping down in the car seat to stare out of the window, looking towards the horizon as cars came and went in your view.

“Okay, I’m going to let you in on a little guy secret,” It had taken you a couple of meetings to get used to Isaac, he was shy and nervous when he’d first come to dinner at your apartment to meet yourself and Lydia, but you’d quickly realised just how well he and Allison worked, and once he’d broken out of his shell, Isaac had proven to be a pretty good new friend. “We say girls are confusing, but really, we’re just confused and confusing ourselves.”

“That’s confusing.”

“I know.” He beamed, flicking into the parking lot of a slightly presumptuous looking restaurant, flashy neon signs outside and bought-in palm trees sitting in pots to match the eternal summer and tropical vibe it was trying to create. “Thing is, we just get worked up like you, alright? We overthink and we panic and we get really nervous when we think we’re about to mess up with someone we like. So much so that we try and play it cool, so you don’t know just how much we’re trying not to let it show how much we’re freaking out.”

“Yeah?” Your words were followed by a sigh, staring blankly at your hands in your lap.

“Yeah.” He was staring out of the window when you looked up to listen, knowing more was to come, and you followed his gaze. Allison was sitting at one of the outdoor tables, oversized sunglasses sitting on her face as she stared down at her phone, legs popped up on another more chair and a glass of wine already out in front of her, making herself more than comfortable in the restaurant’s outdoor seating area. “Trust me, I would know.”

You gave him a moment more silence, a small grin trying to form on your face as you watched Isaac get stuck in a moment, simply staring at your roommate. Then, he jumped a little, clearing his mind of where he’d slipped away to. His cheeks were pink as he turned back to face you.

“Uh, anyway, I’m pretty sure Noah has fallen hard for you. Just because he wasn’t looking at you when you were looking at him, doesn’t mean he wasn’t looking at all. He glared at me, though. Kinda’ funny.”

“It wasn’t funny.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at him and leaning down to collect your bag from sitting beside your feet. “You know, if we don’t go soon, Ally is gonna’ kill us. I think she’s seen us.” Pointing out of the window, Allison was waving excitedly from the table clearly having spotted you both, and neither of you could help from laughing at her.

“Well, then, let’s go. I’m starving.”

The sun was warm as you stepped from the car, grey clouds on the horizon barely visible, your fried sill waving excitedly.

Now, as you stepped closer to the table, you could see that she’d already gotten menus for you both too, a glass sitting out before each seat, and a bottle of wine still sitting in the centre of the table inside of an ice bucket. Taking your seat, she was beaming, pushing her sunglasses up from the bridge of her nose to sit atop her head, and she squealed a little as she came over to hug you.

“‘Bout time.”

“I’m perfectly on time for everything today, why does everyone keep saying I’m late!” You huffed, knowing it was simply a joke, laughing as you hugged her back, and she knew it too if her laugh was any indication.

“Ouch, your coffee date didn’t go so well?”

“You know, with the current standard of things, it kind of reminds me of when you’d call our meetings coffee dates before everything.” Your eyes couldn't help but roll, smiling nonetheless and taking your seat, averting your gaze to the menus that were laid out as ally and Isaac had their own greetings. Scrapings of chair legs on stone panels, and then Allison was pouring you a glass of wine, before moving on to Isaac, who promptly refused as he insisted on driving.

“So, things are a bit intense still, then?” Your friend pushed, and you shrugged, not wanting to go into much detail, but Isaac was evidently bursting at the seams to tell her about his small portion of the event.

He was excited about the story, and frankly, he was simply excited to be being accepted by the people in Allison’s life. Despite his anxiety and how much he may deny it or attempt to hide it, you’d seen the same look on Noah’s face several times.

He’d looked like that when Allison had first offered to drive him home when he’d stayed for wine night, and when Lydia had first retuned his playful snark instead of simply taking the higher roads. He’d looked like that when you’d gone on a double date with Lydia and Leigh, and when he’d started to be invited to things that weren’t just an extension of your invite.

It was always a sweet sight.

You let him tell it all, even if it was slightly overdramatic, which it was clear your friend knew, but nobody bothered to interrupt him. You needed the break from it all, one final lunch date with your friend, sitting in the sun and drinking one too many glasses of wine as you ate overpriced food that was absolutely delicious and looked like art on plates.

You laughed and you joked and you listened to all the stories, and for a while, you forgot about the stress of exams and the future and just hung in the moment where you’d still get moments like this. They’d be hard to come across and they’d be less common, but they’d only become sweeter when they were rarer, because moments like these were the kind that made time stop.

A little tipsy and throat sore from singing to Allison’s playlist in the car on the way home, you were slightly shaky as you wandered up the stairs and along the corridor towards your apartment. Your keys were all the way to the bottom of your bag when you found them, and it was on your second attempt that you were able to open the door.

“We’ll be inside in a minute, alright?” Allison wore a coy smile on her face, and you nodded, letting the two of them have their moment. You were happy for Allison, that was no lie, but you were a little unhappy with yourself as you stepped inside of the door, pushing it closed politely to give her and Isaac a moment.

You missed that look, that sweet and longing look of not wanting to part, with soft kisses and giggles in between pecks that were drawn out and needy, wanting to just spend years wrapped up in one another. Lydia was already home, you could hear the music from behind her door, but the apartment still looked as put together and un-lived in as it had been this morning. You suspected she’d only just returned home from her classes moments before you’d come home from lunch.

Dropping your bag down your arm and beside the seat on the couch you’d doubtless soon be occupying, you left it near the laptop you’d left on charge earlier in the day, green light steady to let you know that it was fully charged and ready to go. Really, there wasn’t much prep left to do, all you had to do was print your final scripts, put them in folders, and pack your bag, but it was all so overwhelming as it came to the final exam.

You felt exhausted, the day was great and there was still the buzz of your wine running through your system, but the longer you worried and the more you thought about what you no longer had, as Allison revelled in all of that new relationship excitement was making you feel a lonely chill. By the time you’d made it to your room, door closed to block out the cheery sounds of Lydia’s music, you were feeling the effects of a long day and repressed emotions thoroughly.

There was a frown on your face when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror, and one that brought wrinkles to your forehead as your brows furrowed without your permission.

Rubbing the pad of a finger over the spot, it only made your frown deepen when they immediately returned. Your hair was looking a little more flat and dull, maybe it was just your poor mood making you pick out the negatives in yourself, but that was all you seemed capable of doing right now. Putting on a false smile, you tried to see if it would help, but it didn’t, and it only screamed ‘liar’ in your mind.

Nimble fingers worked slowly along the front of your dress until the buttons were undone, slipping it down your arms and dropping it into the laundry basket. Kicking off your boots and stripping the rest of your clothes down, you sought out your robe, fingers running through your hair to try and untangle windswept knots.

A shower was what you needed.

Calling out a warning on your use of the bathroom, you locked the door, robe hung up on the back and steam beginning to fill the room as the water warmed up. You’d chosen a slightly higher heat, hoping the temperature would help chase away the chill that wasn’t real, created by your heart instead of your environment.

Laying out your bottles, you arranged them all neatly before stepping inside.

The wafts of mango-scented shampoo and a matching lemongrass-scented body wash were utterly intoxicating, bubbly as you focused on cleaning yourself down and trying to push aside the fears of the future and worries of your exams. It was hard, everything felt like a sword hanging on a very thin string, like you were one sob away from that string breaking. It was like standing on the edge of the cliff, swaying in the wind and knowing you were ready to take the jump but still not feeling prepared.

The towel you wrapped yourself in afterwards was comfortingly fluffy, and with skin that was still hot to the touch from the water, the breeze throughout the apartment at many degrees cooler than the steam of the bathroom wasn’t as lonely as it had been beforehand.

Your hair was combed free of tangles and your skincare was applied, your cosiest pyjamas wrapped around you as you finally began to feel your nerves settling. Lydia was stirring her soup on the stove when you finally reemerged, a small smile offered to her when she turned to you, and you clicked down the flick on the kettle to reheat the water that was remaining inside from whoever had last used it.

“What’s up, chicken? You keep frowning like that, you’re going to get worry lines.”

“Just a long day.” You gave a more reassuring smile to her, dropping a tea bag into a mug and retrieving a teaspoon to stir it with. She only hummed a response to you, pouring the contents into her favourite mug, and pulling out one of the kitchen island seats to settle herself at.

“You sure you don’t want to talk?”

“Nothing to talk about, just tired.” Your words were mumbled, you weren’t sure why, but despite feeling better you were still utterly drained. Moving with your fresh cup of tea toward the couch, you settled in your already chosen and favourite seat, the end of the couch closest to the windows but still with a great view of the television, and pulling your laptop across to sit on your legs once you were settled.

As you lifted the lid of your laptop and gave it a second to load up, you blew against the rim of your tea, swirling it slightly around the mug as you switched hands holding it, the ceramic hot against your skin. As your screen loaded up, the little red circle over your email flickered on, empty for a second, before a number filled the place.

Five unread emails.

Opening it up, you gave a sigh, sipping at the rim of your mug as you deemed the contents to finally be a drinkable temperature, but not caring much for the slight burn anyway. Two spam emails, one from your tutor to confirm your assignment tomorrow, as if you could possibly forget, and one from each brother. Stiles’ name was first, the most recently sent, and hovering the cursor over the top of the email, you brought it up to full-screen.

A few silly jokes and some notes at the top which you barely read, before clicking the link he’d uploaded below. With a brief pause, a PDF upload of your file was coming up, each page scanned in online, and annotated slowly. With a colour key at the top, a trait you were used to seeing from Stiles, he had made various annotations. Some were comments, some were simply praise, others were more jokes, but as you flicked through, there was nothing obvious to be removed.

Minimising the email, you pulled up Noah’s, expecting much the same as the PDF files and corrections, but it was just the opposite. A few simple lines, a polite greeting like he was sending a CV to a potential employer, or a doctor a message to arrange an appointment. Your eyes narrowed on the email, reading it again as he simply confirmed that it was fine, and he had nothing to be removed. No jokes, no comments, not even a slightly sweet dismissal at the end of his email, just his electronic signature and it was over.

With a huff, you found you were no longer staring at the screen but glaring at it, and in your distraction, the mug in your hands was slipping just a little, until a few drops of the hot tea were spilling over the edge, and splashing onto your fingers.

“Ow, shit!”

The words were a hiss, and pulling back from the computer to place the mug down onto the table, a slight ring was forming on the table from wetness. Sliding your computer from your lap, you wiped your hand on your shirt, a scowl on your face as the same tension you’d washed away during your shower was beginning to rear its head once again. “Okay, seriously this time, what’s your frown about?”

“Well-”

“And why are you making a ring on my coffee table?” Lydia muttered, snatching up the abandoned mug of tea, and your face blanked, an empty stare at her, and she shrugged, wiping the droplets away and putting your mug back down onto a coaster.

“You wanna’ hear what’s wrong or not?” Your eyes narrowed on her, but it was playful, and he shrugged, sinking down to sit on the couch beside you, still holding her mug of half-eaten. “Okay, well, it’s Noah.”

“Tell me something new.” She whispered, wincing at the exasperated look you gave her, and whispering her apology before taking another mouthful of her soup.

“He’s being all professional and cold. I mean, I know that’s what I wanted, I guess, but not like this. I needed space, I needed him to not look at me like I was the sun in the sky or whatever, but now he won’t look at me at all.” Rubbing a hand over your forehead, the words sounded ridiculous when they came from your mouth, but you did feel better just getting to vent about it. “I feel like we’re playing hot and cold. One minute he’s telling me he wants another chance and he misses me and all that, and then another, he’s ignoring me. Last week he asked me if going to dinner together was gonna’ mess with my decision about him, but this week it’s like he doesn’t even care.”

“Oh, honey..” She shuffled closer, the smell of tomato soup making you laugh as she tried not to spill her meal on you, mugs clinking together by accident as she attempted to hug you. “You know I’ll support you no matter what you do, and I’ll always take your side, but have you considered that he might be in as much pain and struggle over this as you are?”

“I hate it when you’re all wise and stuff.” Your eyes rolled, huffing but hiding a smile on the rim of your glass, and your friend only chuckled. “One minute he’s the jealous ex in a coffee shop because of Isaac showing up, and the next minute he’s barely replying to my texts, not even a soft email, it’s like he’s emailing his boss.”

“Or, one minute he’s feeling threatened because he thinks he lost you, and the next minute he’s feeling guilty for acting up, and wondering if he hadn't lost you but now had because of that behaviour.”

“Stop being logical and right.” You scoffed at her, slumping further into the cushions, and abandoning the argument entirely, because deep down, you knew she was right.

“Would it make you feel better if I pout with you and pretend for a while that this is a lot easier than it is, and we can order food and-”

“You don’t need to keep going, I’m all in.” She beamed, stepping away from you to abandon what was left of her sup to order a pizza instead, swiping her phone from the charger at the wall and pulling up an app.

“What are we doing? Ally emerged from the bathroom, already in her pyjamas and drying her hair gently with a towel, staring between the both of you. Picking up your computer and moving across to the paper you’d already drafted up.

“We’re ordering food and watching movies to cheer up our girl before her exams.” Lydia substituted an answer before you had a chance, so you simply nodded along with her, beginning to send copies of all your transcripts to the printer, so make sure that it was at least done. “Count me in then.”

Closing down the device once the order had been sent, and you felt a thrill of adrenaline shoot through you as Allison sat down on the couch beside you. Throwing a blanket over her lap, she spread it across you too, and Lydia took a cross-legged position in her favourite old chair.

Your alarm had rung once, and you’d set it to snooze, and as sleep finally found you at a comfortable time now, you cracked your eyes open to stare at the ceiling for the first few seconds that came with the morning.

Tranquil and calm, sun fluttering in through your windows and just the right-

“Shit!” Your foot was caught in the covers as you tried to fling them back, kicking rapidly to free your legs and stumbling on limbs that hadn't a chance to adjust to the sudden weight thrust upon them.

Your vision was still a little blurry as you blinked at the clock hanging over your head on the wall, realising just how much later woken to the time you’d intended to when the hands were finally clear.

Pulling your robe on and not even bothering to fasten it across the front of your pyjamas, you raced to the living room, Allison’s bag and keys were already gone from the rack as she’d set off for the day, and Lydia was hanging around in the kitchen. Your papers were still sitting on the printer pad, ready to be packed away and your bag was still slumped beside the couch where it had been abandoned, laptop balanced on the edge of the coffee table, a little precariously, next to your empty glass of wine from last night.

“Good morning, sunshine! I made you a smoothie.”

“I’m going to be late!” You snapped, turning on Lydia and wincing when you heard the tone of your voice echo back to you, but she didn’t seem to be phased by it. Your shoulders slumped arms crossing protectively across the front of your body. “Sorry.”

“S’okay. Come sit. Drink your smoothie.” She patted at the counter in front of herself, placing a tall glass down and the smell of berries and honey was overly inviting, and you trudged over, pushing yourself up onto the seat, Placing a thick straw into it, you smiled in thanks, letting yourself relax for just a second, and taking a large gulp of the fruity treat. “I heard your alarm go off, and then you silenced it. Figured you needed more sleep. I would have woken you up if another fifteen minutes had gone by.”

“Thanks. Mom.”

“Well, someone has to wake your dead-ass up in the mornings and pick Allison up from clubs when she’s drunk and can’t remember our address for a cab.” Lydia beamed, recalled the multiple times that it had happened, and you snickered into your drink as you continued to sip. “Figured I’d drive you to your exam, I have a class not long after. The weather’s nice, you can walk back, right?”

“Sure.” It was a nice offer, and if you were honest, a relieving one. Your hands were shaking a little and there was a tension like nausea twisting your guts into knots, and so knowing you didn’t have to then focus on driving on top of it all was like a gift from her.

“I was thinking, you should wear that black blouse you have with your pencil skirt for your assessment, y’know, the one with the bits that go, like, over your shoulders and then tuck in at the front in that cool style.” She waved her hands around a little bit, neither of you quite sure how to explain the way that the fabric fell but you knew exactly the one she meant, and you mulled the idea over.

“I was going to wear my boots, though, don’t you think an all-black outfit is a little funeral-y?”

‘I think it would look professional.” She mused, and you shrugged. You hadn't planned out an outfit at all, and you were honestly just grateful that she’d put some thought into it at all. “You’re gonna’ do great, I just know it. I mean, I picked out the fonts for your presentation, so, I know it’s perfect.”

“Uh-huh.” Your scoff only made her smirk, and you picked up your glass, sliding down from your chair. “I’m gonna’ take this to go.”

“You should wash your face, there’s a big wrinkle on your cheek from your pillow.”

Rubbing at your cheek, you scowled at her, placing the smoothie down onto your desk before retreating into the bathroom, and slamming the door. Upon checking your reflection, you found she was right, there was a still fading crease along your skin from a fold in the pillow material which had left its print, and you rubbed a thumb over it. It would be gone in no time, surely, but it was still best to assist it.

A little hot water, cleaning your face and putting on some creams, and your energy for the day was already beginning to sink into you, fresh and rejuvenated, ready to finally put the stress behind you. Despite still having the exam to do, the excitement of knowing that by the time your head hit the pillow this evening your exam would be done and your stress would be gone was a kind of thrill you’d never had before. It was an incomparable high, just from the relief of letting tension and fear slip away.

Brushing your hair out until it was knot free, you returned to your bedroom, stirring the straw around the glass and letting it clink against the sides occasionally, staring at your clothes. In the end, you went with the exact outfit that Lydia had suggested, a pair of tights and your comfiest bra to pair with it all, until you were fully dressed and tucking the edges of your shirt under the skirt waistband.

“See? Told ya’ it’d look good.” There was a series of knocks at the door just to follow the words, before she was letting herself in, nudging the half-drank smoothie toward you to be finished up, and standing behind you in the mirror. “Now, what are you thinking about your hair?”

With a combination of tasks, letting you work on your face as Lydia played with your hair until it was sitting to her liking in a gentle style, half up and half down, you were ready to go. Zipping up your boots at the ankle, the nervous tapping of your foot was audible now that the heel on it was clicking against the floorboards.

Lydia was much calmer, she’d passed her set of exams weeks prior, she’d done the stress, to the extent she was almost certain her hair was going to fall out, and now she was simply attending her final classes to talk to her peers and gather summer readings and final recommendations from her professors before she was moving on to her PhD. It only seemed natural, for her, really.

She was pulling her bag onto her shoulders as you sorted out your papers, tucking each one inside of a wallet and labelling them with a number at the top to know who to hand them to, before they were secured in your bag under your arm. Running a final check through your head, and making sure you had everything from your keys and phone to the documents and ID you’d need to present, everything was accounted for, and you were on your way.

The university radio station played in your friend's car as she drove, and it smelt of peaches and berries, a new air freshener hanging on her mirror, swinging slightly with the movements. Lydia drove nothing like Stiles, no daring turns and risky switches between lanes, and nothing like Noah, who while being a safe driver, always brought an adrenaline thrill with his motorbike. She was a safe driver, someone you always trusted when getting into a car with, no matter what her mood or situation. In fact, you were convinced that if she was drunk, texting and blindfolded, she might still be a safer driver than Stiles.

Said boy was waiting outside for you when you arrived, a skip in his step as he made his way over to the car, letting you out and staying quiet while Lydia wished you luck and made promises about a celebratory dinner after she got home. It was only when the car door was closed and she was promptly leaving the parking lot that Stiles let his excitement and enthusiasm show, arms wrapping around your waist as he rocked you in a tight hug, his joy feeling contagious as you began to giggle.

“You’re so happy, what’s up with you?”

“Trying to cheer you up. And Derek found us an apartment an hour ago, but also you!” He sang the final word a little bit, and you paused, eyes fixing on him as you placed a hand on your hip.

“You guys found an apartment you like already?” It felt unbelievable to know that they were actually going out there to become adults, really starting to function and take part in society when you had no idea about your future. Seeing him do it, though, made it all feel a little less scary.

“We weren’t looking for much. Not many demands. Just a reasonably sized bedroom and somewhere to put up a sex s-”

“Oh, Stiles!” You slapped at his arm, the boy cutting himself off in a fit of laughter, and you walked away from him, moving towards where Noah was still standing by the door. He had his hands tucked into his pockets, watching the pair of you closely with a gentle expression on his face, and he smiled as you reached him. Stiles was still laughing, mumbling about how he was joking as he caught up with you, and you rolled your eyes. “You know, your brother is a fool.”

“I know.” Noah, sighed, pulling the door open, and Stiles flailed as he made various sounds of complaints, being rapidly shushed by the silence the three of you were met with as you entered the building.

“I’m a funny fool, though.” He gave a sigh, finally done with his laughter, and it was quickly replaced by happy sounds as he spotted the coffee machine in the corner, peeling away from you both to fetch himself a cup. You continued alongside Noah, silence sitting heavily on your shoulders as you made your way to the waiting room, a desk with a receptionist sitting behind it, typing away at her computer without looking up.

There was only one other person in the room, and you could tell by their body language that they weren’t here to be examined. Presumably, just someone who was waiting for their friend or partner to finish their exam. There was a bag on the seat next to him, the row of chairs on the opposite wall entirely empty, and nerves were beginning to fill you up to the point of jitters once again.

“I brought you a bagel.” Noah eventually broke the silence, pulling the small packet from the front pocket of his hoodie, and you stared blankly at the foil-wrapped packet sitting in his hand.

“You, uh- what?”

“A bagel.” He pushed his hand a little closer to you, and you took it, sinking to sit in one of the free seats as he sat beside you, and you unwrapped it carefully on your lap. “Sometimes you don’t eat when you get stressed because you feel sick, and I didn’t know if you’d had breakfast.”

“I had a smoothie that Lydia made me, but this is sweet, thanks.” He only hummed at your thanks, but you could see the pink tinging his cheeks and you lifted it up, inspecting the contents, and feeling your heart warm a little more in your chest. “My favourites.”

“Big day, you deserve it.” Your gaze lingered on him for a second, realising that today he was playing hot instead of cold, but you had to force yourself to focus. You gave yourself an extra second, his gaze staring ahead toward the assistant, and you took him in, all the features you’d missed being able to observe. “Don’t you need to check-in?”

You snapped back, following his sight to the sign sitting on the receptionist's counter that read ‘exam check-ins’, and an embarrassed blush swept up your cheeks as you nodded. “Yes, I do. I’ll be right back.”

Handing him back the bagel to hold onto, you retrieved your bag, setting off toward the desk, and Stiles made an appearance, carrying two coffees in his hands as he arrived, and a wide grin to follow. Signing your name on the pages and filling out your details, the woman checked your university ID card, and took your spare files from you. She wandered away, heading into the back room, and when you turned, Stiles was leaning on the counter next to you, making you jump.

“Did you know that the coffees here are only a dollar?”

“For crappy vending machine coffee? I’m so impressed.” You teased, and his nose scrunched up at you, the door to the exam room opening as a girl came out. You recognised her vaguely, she looked almost shell-shocked but completely relieved, barely glancing at you as she moved to her boyfriend. He stood, wrapping her up in a tight hug and congratulating her quietly for completing her exam.

Slumping down in your seat, the lack of others around you suggested you would be next, and you took a large bite out of your bagel, focusing your attention on eating instead of overthinking. You were barely halfway through your bagel when your name was called, telling you that you were free to enter the hall, and a rush of panic was drowning you all of a sudden as you felt everything freeze up.

Stiles’ hands found yours, pulling you to your feet and dragging your attention to him as Noah threw away the other half of your meal, peering inside the door of the room but the blinds were pulled down over the window.

“You got this, alright? You’re so ready!”

“I’m so ready. I got this.” You confirmed; words of encouragement, because despite your nerves you knew that there was nothing else that you could have done to prepare, you’d given it your all.

The metal of the doorknob was cold under your fingertips as you walked in, heels clicking on the tiled floor. It was a study hall that was being used for exams today, the projector already slid down with the home screen of the communal-use laptop showing on it. A few rows up was a platform of three officials, all of whom were sitting with your copy of notes out in front of you.

Heading over to it, Noah and Stiles both helped themselves to a stool from the row in front, hopping up quietly to sit on them side by side, and you fished your USB from your bag. Plugging it into the computer, you pulled up your file, the only file you’d put on this one, just to be sure it would save and download correctly, and after a moment of pause, the computer loaded it up.

“Are you ready, Miss?” The man in the middle spoke, voice thick and husky and crows feet forming around his eyes due to his age but he seemed friendly overall, giving him a nod to confirm it, and he gave a reassuring smile to you, while remaining professional.

Taking a final steady breath, you hit the first key on your presentation, introducing yourself and the topic you were bringing forwards, watching as they opened the first page. Somehow, once you’d taken the stage, the fear and anxiety began to slip away.

As you moved through your presentation, you occasionally threw a question to Stiles or Noah, about their own information submitted to the study, letting them clarify it for the judges, Sometimes, the judges would ask their own questions, carefully selected information from somewhere in your booklet with the intention of tripping you up or catching you out, and sometimes they got you. You would forget to refer to a new page or paragraph in your study, and you would have to back and correct yourself. But, you were congratulating yourself on finding no major issues. As for Noah and Stiles, they were opposites.

Stiles had come in and was relaxed in his seat, the entirety of the exam. Occasionally, his fingers would tap at the stool, or he would bite his nails, and he shuffled continuously, but in the end, it would only prove your point.

As for Noah, he was stoic and stiff for the entirety of the exam. He sat still, barely moving, only occasionally when he was beginning to get stiff or achy in his position, and to answer a question. He never met your eye, staring at the floor or staring forwards continuously, and you wished you could have comforted him, but your aim was once again to stay professional even if just for the last couple of minutes that remained.

The judges were nice, or as nice as they could be while remaining unbiased in the judgements they would grant. They scribbled notes, and you would occasionally have to pause simply to let them write down their information so they had everything they needed to judge you, and in those times, you took the second to breathe, and remind yourself that you were doing okay.

The clock overhead was tickling by, your thirty minutes almost being up, and so you switched from the final slide of your presentation, the information you’d gathered to create your diagnosis going black on the screen, and everything that has been building for almost a year was finally coming to a head.

Taking your place behind Stiles first, his shoulders were relaxed, a smile on his face as he stared straight up at the judges. For a long time, you’d been worried about everything that would come up during this assignment, bringing up everything from their childhood and their mom’s death to the different directions they’d gone in college, but since working it out, the tension surrounding the three of you when talking about it all had come to be nonexistent.

“Now, Stiles Stilinski is also a psych student, and won’t be at all surprised by what I’m about to say.” You paused for a moment, rewarding yourself on the chuckles that rose from the judges, and you placed your hands on Stiles’ shoulders, squeezing lightly for your reassurance on your decision. “Following Adler’s theory, it is my judgement that due to his childhood experiences and the other contributing factors surrounding it, Stiles Stilinski has developed an acute inferiority complex as well as a superiority complex. He also has severe social anxiety.”

Stiles shrugged, knowing how he felt already, and as you’d said, he wasn’t all that surprised by it. Moving across to Noah, you placed your hands on his shoulders too, but instead, when you squeezed this time, it was for his comfort instead of your own.

“At the beginning of this study, I asked both Stiles and Noah to self-diagnose anything they thought they may have. Stiles’ was pretty accurate. Noah believed himself to have anger issues, ego-mania, and an inability to function in a social situation. However, I believe that Noah Stilinski also has an inferiority complex combined with a superiority complex, and severe social anxiety.” You felt his shoulders go tense again, having loosened for only a moment because of your touch, and you rubbed lightly to try and comfort him again. “They both display these in radically different ways, however.”

The panel paused their writing, faces blank as not to convey any kind of giveaway to what they were feeling, and you were forced to keep falling blind into this as you went on to explain it.

“At some point, for their own reasons, both Noah and Stiles came to find the opinion that they weren’t good enough and that the world, or society, has something against them. They also believed that that hatred made them better or unique. Which they are, because everyone is unique, but the coping methods that they adapted to handle the anxiety and the inferiority complex only fuelled the superiority complex.”

You took a breath, stepping away from Noah and back towards Stiles choosing to stand in the middle of them instead. Your eyes moved to the clock, checking how much time allowance you had, and one of the judges followed. “You can take as much time as you need, alright?”

You could only nod in response. It was an empty offer, really. You knew that if you went on for too long, they’d begin to zone out. “Stiles started a podcast upon reaching university, because he still felt cast out from a feeling of high school rejection. Noah, however, felt that he was rejected in college, from being someone who fit in during high school. However, with a changing mentality toward the things that make us unique upon reaching college, Stiles began to fit in and his brand of quirkiness was exactly right, however, everything Noah had become to fit the mould society set in high school was simply not what was sought after now, and he found it hard to adapt again, despite how many people there are around him who like him, and those who love him, he finds it hard to see it.”

You could sense Noah’s discomfort about what you were saying, the way he stiffened, staring at you as you began to speak and the way he began to fidget anxiously like Stiles usually did, made it clear. So, you tried not to say any more, hands joining in front of you as you rocked on the balls of your feet, desperate now to simply finish.

“These kinds of events are exactly what led me to my opinion on the two. It just goes to show that in the end, twins who are raised in the same way, a single parent as a guide with the same deep-rooted issues and insecurities can both display and combat it in very different ways.” You nodded, no more words coming to mind, and you took your drive back from the computer, the screen going blank again as you did. “Thank you for your time.”

“Thank you for your assessment, it was very interesting.” The woman who had rarely spoken at all on the far right was who ended your assessment, the boys leaving as they gave you some dates and times that you could expect your grade for, and once you had repacked your bag, you were leaving again.

When you reentered the waiting room, you let go of the breath in your lungs, slumping back against the closed door for a minute, uncaring of the other patrons in the waiting area, and taking a moment to breathe.

“Holy hell, that was terrifying.” You whispered, hearing Stiles laugh as he stood before you, his hands coming to find your shoulders.

“But, you did it!” He beamed, shaking you a little, and pulling you away from the door, and walking you more toward the centre of the corridor. It felt surreal, this relief and the feeling you’d been longing so desperately for as you’d sought the relief. Your legs were a little shaky, and your mind was a complete blank as to what you were going to do now, Stiles’ hand sitting on your lower back as he guided you towards the doors. “So, what now?”

“Uh, well, Lydia wants to go for dinner to celebrate later.” You mumbled, turning to look at him, and Stiles smirked a little.

“That as far as your plans for the future have gotten?” He teased, and you stuck out your tongue playfully, Noah wandering along silently beside the pair of you. “Okay, well, I’ll be there too. Text me the details. You know, though, I kinda’ think I should-”

“You can go now. Go look at pictures of your apartment, or whatever.” He beamed at the permission to leave, moving into the top of his toes to press a kiss onto the crown of your head.

“You’re the best. Love you loads. I’ll see you later.” He waved over his shoulder as your left, and you chuckled, Noah copying the act beside you.

Stiles walked away, tapping a beat on his thigh as his other hand was holding his phone, thumb scrolling. He lifted it to his ear, a conversation beginning, and before you turned back around, you could already sense Noah lingering behind you. Turning to face him, his hands were tucked into his pockets, messy hair flopping down in front of his face as he stared at the ground, before forcing himself to look up at you. Wide brown eyes, nothing but honesty written on a nervous expression, and his lower lip was still reddened from all the biting he’d down on it throughout that session.

“D’you really think all that stuff?”

His head tipped, nodding sideways towards the door, motioning to the room that was now occupied with another student completing their assessment. Letting out a slow breath, simply from the relief of having it all done and over with, but Noah was still waiting for an answer, his toes scuffing against the floor and creating a squeak on the tile. “I do. If that made you mad, I’m sorry, I mean, I’m not a professional or anything, but I’m still sorry if-”

“I’m not mad.” He cut you off, a softer smile on his face now, and you nodded, reciprocating it after a second of delay, and his shoulders sank down comfortably from their tense position. “If I’m being honest, it all felt pretty true. It made sense. That’s not what I meant.”

“Oh.” He nodded, running his tongue over his lower lip and pulling it back between his teeth as his nerves took over. Lifting a hand up when his eyes darted away from your one again, you freed his lip, thumb smoothing gently over his chin for a moment, and he pushed gently into your touch before you were letting go. “Well, what did you mean?”

He only shrugged, glancing up over your shoulder when the doors opened, scraping together slightly as a new bunch of students walked inside, and the waiting area was starting to grow crowded with kids waiting for their exams. Taking the hint, you fell into place beside him instead of in front of him, slow steps beginning to match as you traced the corridor back toward the parking lot.

“S’okay, Noah. You can tell me.”

“I just meant, y’know, the part where you said people like me. Who?” The words were breathless.

“You have friends, you know you do.” Your chuckle wasn’t met by his, only a curious gaze that was still fixed on you, and letting the joke go, you gave in to the deeper conversation. “Okay, well, you have your friends online, for starters. I don’t remember their names, but, I know they’re there. There’s also Erica and Boyd, I know they like you, a hell of a lot, and despite all the bickering, Lydia was pretty fond of you. She thought you were funny and witty. Uh, who else, let’s see..”

“What about the people who love me?”

You froze a little, the door held open for you as sunlight poured in, Noah still a few steps ahead of you as he stared expectantly, hanging on an answer, and your lips pursed. Focusing on one thing at a time and unable to hold his brave stare now, you ducked through the doorway, warm sun flushing over your bare skin, but you still felt chilled by his question. “You know, you’ve got your dad and Stiles..”

“Anyone else?” He prompted, walking a little faster simply to catch up with you, and you hadn't realised your own pace had increased along the path, heeled boots clicking on the cement, as if you were trying to run from your problems and fears. There was a soreness in the back of your throat that you were familiar with by now, a scared and pained feeling of heartbreak and fear making itself known.

“Oh, c’mon, Noah. You couldn't have been that oblivious, I was obvious. I wore my heart on my sleeve. Don’t make me say it.” Your voice trailed off, cracking somewhere in the middle in a way that betrayed you, and your words became a whisper toward the end. His hand hooked onto your arm, pulling you to a stop as he let out a noise that could only be described as wounded, and your body stiffened, refusing to look at him. “Noah, you’re the one who rejected me.”

“I didn’t reject you, I’m just a fucking idiot!” He was angry at himself, that much was obvious from his tone, and you gave an empty laugh, your gaze drifting up to search his face, only to find him staring at you with something intense. “I’m just a dumbass, okay? I didn’t think I could get someone like you, in case you haven’t noticed, I kinda’ don’t see much good in myself.”

“You should-”

“I know, you keep telling me that, but the best good was you, okay? I just didn’t see it.” His other hand came out, fingertips tracing along the inside of your forearm, so lightly it made you shiver, his other hand dropping down from your bicep, until he was daring to try and weave his fingers with your own.

“Why have you been playing hot and cold so much, then, huh? I don’t know where we stand.”

It was his turn, a sad and empty laugh, and despite it being clear that he was utterly terrified, he was fighting off his flight instincts, and for once, choosing to fight instead. “Because I don’t know what you want, yet. Everything in my damn body is screaming out to be with you all the time. Literally, all the time. I want to text you and ask you how your day went, and I want to call you, and I want to just show up at your place and see if you want to hang out, or cuddle and listen to music, or go for a drive, but I don’t.”

He took a ragged breath at the end of his speech, your heart thudding hard inside of your chest in slow rhythms, and there was a pink on his cheeks from the tension of the moment, but just like he always did, he made everything else slip away. The noise and the stress and the pure adrenaline of it all seemed incomparable to the way it felt simply to be held so loosely by him once again, and the electricity that came with him finally speaking about how he felt.

“You said you needed to work out whether or not you could forgive me, and I didn’t want to influence that. When I win you back, I don’t want there to be even a whisper of doubt in your mind about it.” His voice was soft, raspy and deep and sending complete chills through you with the depth of his words, and you sniffled lightly, your cheeks stretching to accommodate a smile you tried to resist.

“Okay, well, as excuses go, I guess that checks out.” He laughed, a real laugh this time, and he took a fraction of a step closer, enough so that his toes were bumping against yours through his dirty sneakers and you could get a real smell of the musky cologne he always wore. His expression was a lot softer, a stare that travelled over your face like he was trying to memorise you like you might disappear, and his fingers flexed against yours, squeezing a little tighter. “I’m still not saying it.”

“Fine, be stubborn.” He mumbled, eyes daring to drop lower than your own for a second, and a gentle, barely present smirk was making itself known. “I’ll say it. I love you. I love you, and I’ve never loved anyone other than my family before, I’ve never been in love before. And, I’ll probably fuck it up a bunch more times, but I sure as hell know I’m in love with you, because if I ever thought I was miserable before, it’s nothing compared with how it feels when you’re not right here, being my sunshine.”

His head lowered, lips brushing against yours as your noses bumped, It was messy and clumsy, brushes of noses with soft smiles thrown into the mix, hanging on the edge of a cliff, with no idea what you were falling into.

“I love you, sunshine, so please, just put me out of my misery and say something?”

Your smile grew, hands freezing themselves from his own, smoothing up along his arms once his hands had found your hips, until they were resting against his neck, brushing under his jaw and feeling just how fast his heart was racing from his pulse under your palm. “I love you too, starshine.”

He was beaming, attempts to control it as your foreheads pressed together, and this time, the amused noise he let out was more watery than empty, something fragile as he handed his heart back over to you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Tipping upwards, your lips caught his, a soft kiss that was fleeting and brief but it felt like finally coming home, sinking into his arms as he held you tightly, mouth working slowly against your own in a rhythm that was only meant for the two of you.

His hands slipped a little further, to your back, pulling you in closer until your heart could be felt thudding against his own, and it still wasn’t enough, so much wasted time to be caught up on. There was so much, weeks of stories and thoughts and movies and songs, so much had slipped away during your heartbreak, and yet none of it mattered now, because with every slide of his lips over your own, you could feel the pieces of your heart sealing themselves back together again, like he was the only one who could truly mend it.

Burning lungs were outweighed simply by the need to be close to him again, to relish in the way it felt to stop caring, and stop hurting, and let the entire world slip away for a while because everything was now focused on him.

You had so sorely missed the way it felt to sink into his arms and just stop, to take a time out from reality for a moment when you were together, because it all felt like time had simply stopped.

“You know, just to prevent further confusion,” You giggled, cutting yourself off when his pecks moved from your lips to your cheek as you began to talk, trailing over the skin and making sure to leave no spot untouched, longer hairs covering his face tickling your skin. “We’re dating now. Officially.”

“Stop making fun of me.” He mumbled, nipping at your jaw, before continuing his kisses up your temple, the side of your face scrunching up, until he was resting his chin against the top of your head. “I love you, sunshine. And you love me, can’t take it back now you’ve said it.”

“Got me trapped.”

“That I do.” He mumbled, arms tightening around you in a hug that you wouldn't want to leave anyway, and you laughed gently, sighs brushing over his neck. “What’s so funny?”

“You wanna’ go for a drive? Maybe later we can cuddle and listen to music and stuff.”

His hand found yours once again, pulling back enough to tug you over toward his bike, the daisy decal still shining against the metal in the sunlight, and he kissed at your knuckles as you walked together. “That’s all I’ve wanted for weeks.”

“Then let’s go.”

#void stiles #void stiles au #void stiles x reader #void stiles/reader #void stiles teen wolf #stiles stilinski #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien teen wolf #dylan obrien void stiles #SITS #sun in the shadows

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Text

More Than A Friend

Summary: A weekend trip with Carol leads you to realize you might like her a little more than you'd thought.

Pairing: Carol Danvers x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 6,194

You crept into the bar. It was a rowdy place, even this early in the evening. Your eyes scanned the crowd, taking in all the different people that were scattered throughout the room. The football game was playing on the TV, but unfortunately, it wasn't really your sport. Finally, your eyes landed on a blonde sitting at the bar. You moved toward her, a smirk on your face. You didn't even bother to slide into the seat next to her.

Your hand touched her hip and your lips were right next to her ear when you spoke. "What's a beautiful thing like you doing all alone here?"

She startled a little, whipping to face you. When she saw you, though, she smacked you away, an unamused expression taking over the surprised look she'd had a minute ago. You slid onto the stool next to her, eyes watching as the bartender held up a single finger to indicate he'd be over to you in a moment. You only nodded in acknowledgment before turning back to the girl beside you, the smirk still on your lips.

"You're an idiot, you know that?" She rolled her eyes.

"Come off it, Care-bear, you love me."

"Christ, I hate when you call me that."

"I apologize, oh Captain, my captain."

The bartender arrived and prevented her from retaliating. You didn't even bother looking back at her as you ordered your drink of choice, glancing up at the football game that you didn't care about in order to not look at Carol. She finally snorted and bumped her shoulder against yours. It made you look back at her, unable to keep a smile from forming on your face when she gave you a hearty wink. She laughed.

"How was work?"

You shrugged. "People are idiots."

When you were sixteen, you'd worked a retail job where you'd learned just how stupid people really were. You'd learned that fully-grown adults had nothing better in their lives to do than yell at teenaged, minimum wage workers during their spare time for nothing more than a minor inconvenience. When you'd become an Avenger, you thought that would stop. You were incorrect. You might not have been a teenaged retail worker anymore, but people found a reason to lose their temper anyway- even right after you'd saved their life.

"That good, huh?" She chuckled.

"Are people nicer on other planets, Care-bear? Take me with you?"

"They're not, no," Carol huffed, sipping from her glass. "And the drinks don't taste as good."

You wondered what she was drinking that she seemed to be enjoying so much. It was colourful, and had, at this point, piqued your interest. You reached out and snatched from where it sat in front of her on the bar. You sniffed it first. It was something fruity, that was all you could figure. Finally, you dared raise the glass to your lips. The second the liquid touched your tongue you felt like you might overdose on sugar and sweetness.

"Oh, my God, Carol!" You exclaimed, setting the drink back down on the bar top and sliding it to her. "What the hell is that?"

"She got it extra sweet," the bartender said as he walked by. "Your friend's got a sugar addiction."

It didn't seem to bother her at all. While you felt you could puke from the sugar content alone, she was sipping it happily. You rolled your eyes at her, reaching for your own drink, much preferring the taste of it. Carol turned to you suddenly, the straw still between her lips. You watched as she lowered it back down, using the same straw to stir the drink around, the ice clinking off the side of the glass as she did. She sipped it again.

"What's our weekend plans, then?" Carol asked finally.

"Who says I have plans with you?"

"Oh, please. You practically begged me to come stay on Earth for a weekend."

"I did absolutely no such thing."

You absolutely did do that. Carol was away from Earth more often than not and you missed her. It wasn't like it was a crime to. So, you'd phoned her up and asked her over and over to come spend just one weekend on Earth with you. She'd finally agreed on the eighth ask, and now here you sat; on the right of the girl you'd missed so dearly, teasing her relentlessly about whatever that abomination was swirling around in her glass.

"We're taking my new car on a little road trip," you finally gave, sipping your drink. "Music, fast-food, and deep talks on the interstate."

"Snacks?"

"Snacks too," you promised with a chuckle. "And we can get a nice motel room or pitch a tent at night. Whichever you please."

You had to laugh at the smile that had crept over her face. The way she giggled in excitement, you had to wonder if it'd just been too long since her last day off or if the alcohol had gotten to her already. She waved the bartender lever as she finished hers. He placed a new one in front of her, and she thanked him quickly, bringing it close and immediately bringing the straw between her lips. You wondered whether the sugar or alcohol content would hospitalize her quicker.

"So, when do we leave?" She chirped.

"In the morning. Don't drink too much. You'll get hungover and I want to actually have fun."

She stuck her tongue out at you. You rolled your eyes in response, finishing your own drink and then declining another. You didn't want to be hungover when you were the one driving the two of you around. The bartender brought you a pop instead. You sipped on it, watching a bar-goer stumbled over with a drunk grin on his face and tapped Carol on the shoulder. He said something you didn't quite hear, but you saw Carol nod. He took her hands and dragged her onto the dance floor. You brought her drink toward you.

Carol was a flirt. She always had been. She was a flirt with you, your teammates, and strangers. She was also gay. This dance with this guy didn't mean much to her. You weren't sure if it even meant much to him. You couldn't be sure that he'd even remember this dance. He was absolutely wasted, and it wasn't even midnight. Regardless, he seemed to be enjoying it. His eyes travelled up and down Carol's body and you squeezed the glass in your hand a little tighter. You were protective of her, despite knowing she could absolutely hold her own.

When the song finished, she winked at him, retreating back to your spot at the bar. She finished up her drink and then insisted the two of you head back to your place and that you were right: she didn't want to be nursing a hangover while you were supposed to be having a good time. You paid the bartender and then linked your arm with hers, leading her out the door and onto the streets. She glanced up at the tall buildings around her. A smile had formed on her face.

"You don't appreciate how beautiful this place is."

You glanced up at the glowing buildings that towered above you and marvelled, for a moment, at the soft light that radiated off them. Your gaze was tugged downward, though, at a rustling noise. You were snapped back into the reality of your city as you watched a rat scurry along the curb of the sidewalk in the direction opposite you. You chuckled at that, motioning to it as you looked up to catch Carol's bright gaze.

"Surely some of those planets are far more beautiful than this."

She shrugged. "Some, maybe. Some are worse. Some are kind of alike to this. This has always been my favourite, though."

You might have understood that if Carol had taken the time to visit the actual beautiful parts of the Earth. But she was always in the city. She'd never gone to stare in amazement at a waterfall or glance at towering mountains. She had never seen the true beauties of this Earth, and you promised in that moment to change that fact. If she thought New York City was beautiful, she would be blown off her feet by the things you showed her.

"One day, Carol, I'll show you the actual beautiful things on this Earth."

"You're pretty beautiful yourself."

You smacked her. That was her flirty side coming out once again. It didn't mean anything. It never had. So, you wondered what that strange flutter in your chest was when she said the words. You ignored it, passing it off as a longing for a meaningful relationship. You hadn't had one of those in a while now. You probably just wanted someone to say those words to you and mean it. You made a mental note to sign up for an online dating site after the weekend had passed. It was too hard to meet people in your line of work without them.

"Yeah, I know," was all you gave in response.

When you glanced over at her, she had a grin on her face.

It wasn't long until you'd reached your apartment building. You smiled at the front desk as you entered the lobby and immediately made for the elevator. You pressed the button to the seventh floor and waited patiently for the doors. You knew Carol was suppressing a squeal of glee when they arrived. She usually just flew everywhere. Using simple inventions like this one had always gotten her more excited than the average person. To anyone else, an elevator was just a boring elevator.

"Can I do it?" She asked as you pulled out your key.

Carol really was just like a child, in a sense. Everything was so advanced out in space that these were the things she enjoyed doing. You pointed out the bronze key and watched her run ahead. She practically skipped the distance to your apartment door. She pushed the key into the lock and turned it, glancing back at you and smiling widely when the door pushed open. You smiled affectionately as you took the key back from her.

She may not have visited Earth overly often, but every time she did, she visited your apartment. Resultantly, she knew her way around. She knew, as well, that you didn't mind in the slightest if she made herself at home. She slid her shoes off and jumped onto the couch, pulling the blanket down over top of her and snuggling into it. You actually took a photo of the sight before you moved into the room behind her, lifting her legs, sitting on the couch, and then dropping them back over your lap.

"Can we watch a movie?" Carol asked, pleading gaze turning to you.

You showed her the remote you'd been reaching for. "Already on it, Captain Danvers."

"I take it back," she giggled, tossing her head back so that it hit the armrest. "That's worse. You can call me-"

"Aw, my Care-Bear!" You laughed, shifting your position so you could throw your arms around her shoulders.

Carol grunted at the impact against her torso. Once you settled, though, she breathed a little easier. You were both squished against one side of the couch, now, but the closeness was nothing new to you. You still had the remote in hand, and aimed it at the TV, managing to get it to Netflix. You flicked on a random horror movie, setting the remote back down on the coffee table in front of you. You nestled back into the cushions.

It had always amused you how jumpy Carol got when she watched horror movies. She was a literal superhero that fought literal aliens all the night and day and yet a ghost jumping out of a darkened corridor had her cringing away from the TV screen and pulling the blanket further up her body as if in an attempt to protect her. She would always adamantly deny it if you ever brought it up later. You would never show her the picture you had of her, fuzzy blue blanket pulled all the way up to her nose, eyes wide, as she watched The Conjuring. She would delete it off your phone as you slept.

Today, though, her nerves seemed to be calmed somewhat by the cup of tea she had clasped between her hands. She looked entirely content, sitting cross-legged on the couch with that same fuzzy blanket draped over her lap and a grey, ceramic mug warming her palms. The alcohol had clearly gotten to her a little, you realized, as you watched her eyelids droop every once in a while. The corner of your mouth tilted upward ever so slightly. She was wide awake a moment later.

It was a sudden jump scare. Even being half asleep, Carol was still paying attention. So, when the TV boomed and there was a flash and a scream, she jumped. The tea that she'd been holding in her lap sloshed over the edges, a large amount of liquid soaking into the couch cushions. You were out of your seat in an instant, reaching for the remote to pause. Carol was apologizing profusely, jumping to her feet and following you to the kitchen.

"It's okay, Carol. It's fine," you chuckled, wetting a dish towel and grabbing some paper towels. "Hey, it's fine. Really. Chill out."

Carol seemed hesitant to do that. When you lightheartedly flicked the wet towel at her, though, she finally smiled taking the paper towel out of your hand and heading back to the living room, pressing the paper towel into the couch and absorbing as much of the liquid as she could. When she'd finished, you used the wet rag to clean the beverage out. As you tossed the paper towel away and threw the dishrag into the kitchen sink, you stood back and took a look at the large wet spot on the couch.

"Guess we're moving to my room, then. Let's go, Care-Bear."

Carol nodded. She trod behind you into the bedroom, where you flopped onto the bed. She was lagging behind and you waved her onward to hurry her up. She finally jumped onto the bed and sat next to you, sliding her legs underneath the covers. You turned on the small TV in your room and resumed the movie you'd been watching. In the soft comfort of the bed, though, it seemed the tug for sleep was greater. Carol's eyes finally fluttered shut and she lay down against the pillows. You chuckled, turning off the movie.

You, unlike your friend, hadn't fallen asleep involuntary. You were able to head to the bathroom and brush your teeth before yawning tiredly and deciding to join. You padded back into the room, climbed under the covers, shut off the lights, and lay your head onto your own pillow. You smiled once at Carol's sleeping figure before you shut your eyes, letting sleep take you.

As hard as you tried to convince her, you weren't able to get Carol to stick her head back inside the sunroof. You weren't sure how to breeze was so exhilarating to her. The superhuman could fly faster than your car was going right now. The wind in her hair had to be a familiar feeling at this point. Plus, there were no laws against flying above the interstate to feel the wind in your hair. There were, however, laws about standing with your entire torso stuck out the roof of the car.

You'd given up a while ago. If she fell out, she'd be just fine. If she got you a ticket? Oh, there would be serious hell to pay. She'd agreed to that already. You'd honestly be surprised, though, if she did get ticketed. It'd be quite a sight to see: a measly police officer ticketing the Human-Kree Hybrid superhero. That sight alone might actually be worth the fine you would have to pay. By the time she'd pulled her head back in, though, blonde hair windblown and a smile plastered to her face, you'd yet to see a single cop.

"Have fun?" You asked, doing up the sunroof.

"Absolutely. You should try."

"Do you know how to drive?" You scoffed.

"I can fly a ship."

"Yeah, I'm sure UFO controls are much different than cars so I'm gonna have to politely ask you to stay the hell away from my car."

Carol only stuck her tongue out at you. She still didn't do her seatbelt up yet. She twisted her body so that she could reach into the back seat. You turned back to the road, but when you shot a second glance at her a few seconds later, she was popping open a can of Pringles with a large grin on her face. She bit down onto a chip with a giggle before turning the can to you. You reached into it with one hand and took a small handful of them, setting them down on the centre console for easier access.

"Where are we staying tonight?" Carol asked through a mouthful of chips.

"A campground up in a small town in Ontario," you hummed. "It's still a good few hours away. I'd ask if you wanted to stop for food, but I'd guess you've filled up on snacks."

She dug through her backpack. "Do I need this?"

She held up the passport you'd made her get last time the two of you had headed up to Toronto. Despite the fact that she really wasn't a citizen of the United States... or even of Earth, you'd managed to get S.H.I.E.L.D. to make you an exception for Carol. It was the perks of being an Avenger, and a close friend of Nick Fury, you supposed. To answer her question, you simply nodded your head as you reached for the Gatorade in your cup holder. She stuck the papers back into her bag.

"So, are you seeing anyone?"

The question almost made you spit the red beverage onto the steering wheel. It wasn't that you and Carol had never talked about it. She was one of your closest friends, after all. She was the first one you'd called when you'd realized your feelings for your last girlfriend, and she was the first one you'd called when you'd broken up. Carol wasn't someone you didn't talk about your love life with. It was just that it was completely and entirely out of the blue. It didn't help that the answer was still no, even after the long period of time since she'd last asked it.

You'd tried to assure yourself that you were just busy with work. It wasn't a lie. You'd been busy as hell ever since Loki's sceptre had inexplicably gone missing after the Battle in New York. But it wasn't just that, you knew full well. Something seemed to be wrong with your brain, or maybe your heart. Maybe it was just that your standards were practically in the clouds, but no one seemed attractive to you anymore. Not even the girl Natasha had tried to set you up with (and you were well convinced that Natasha only knew attractive people).

"Not at the moment, no," you finally admitted. "You?"

"On-and-off," she shrugged. "Just a girl from a planet called Xandar."

A pang of jealousy struck your chest. You were carving something- anything. You would've given anything even for something on-and-off just about now. Had it really been that long? You could hardly believe you were jealous of her. It wasn't like you to be jealous of something someone else had. You were supposed to be happy for her, not sulking over your own lack of a love life... or sex life. You forced a smile at her, wishing it could be real.

"Oh, yeah? Tell me about her."

"Not too much to tell," Carol said, biting down on a potato chip. "She's cute, funny, sweet. A little younger than me, but most people are," she chuckled as she glanced over at you. You plastered a phone smile back onto your lips and forced a laugh from your chest. "Her name's Alya."

You almost grumbled, but managed to bite your tongue on time. You resorted to ripping open a packet of gummy bears in order to keep your mouth full and therefore unable to make any snarky comments. Carol didn't seem to notice that, only reaching over and grabbing a green bear out of the bag. Though you might have been a little frustrated, you let her. It wasn't her fault that you were touch-starved and desperate.

"You know, we could spend this trip trying to find you a girlfriend," Carol grinned, tossing a candy into the air and catching it in her mouth.

"No," you denied immediately. You didn't need for her to see how weird your head was being right now. You were certain there was no one she could find that would be able to snap you out of this strange state of no one being attractive to you, yet craving someone. "I'm not looking for a girlfriend in Ontario."

"What's wrong with girls from Ontario?" Carol teased.

She'd been to Ontario once before. She'd pointed out that, though they may have dressed a little different and talked a little different, the girls from Ontario were just as attractive as the girls from New York. You'd had to point out that, at the time, she'd had a girlfriend. With Carol's ogling at girls on Earth, clearly, she and the girlfriend hadn't been working out well. They'd broken up two weeks later, leaving them both a little hurt, but not beyond repair. Even still, they saw each other for lunch or for a drink, but just as friends. It was admirable; the respect they had retained for one another.

"Nothing is wrong with girls from Ontario," you huffed. "I'm just not in the mood. This is supposed to be our weekend."

"What if I want to spend our weekend finding you a girl?"

"I don't. Drop it," you finally snapped.

Immediately guilt rushed to settle in the pit of your stomach. You readjusted your grip on the steering wheel as your gaze refused to leave the road in front of you. You didn't want to glance over at the frown that had surely taken the place of that infectious smile you loved so dearly. You definitely didn't want to look at it knowing that you were the cause of it. Carol was so incredibly joyful all the time and that was one of the things you loved about her. To be the one who had taken that joy from her, even momentarily, broke your heart.

"I'm sorry," you muttered.

She didn't answer that.

You attempted to swallow the lump in your throat as you tried to focus on driving instead of picturing the frown that was probably tugging at each of Carol's features. You wished you could actually physically kick yourself for what you'd done. She didn't deserve you snapping at her like that. She hadn't done anything wrong. You were just being pissy for reasons you weren't sure even you quite understood. You finally turned to her, but she was looking out the window.

"Look, Carol-"

"Hey, don't worry. Sorry I pushed."

You didn't deserve Carol Susan Jane Danvers one single bit. She deserved more than the world and you swore right then you'd work every moment to give that to her. Despite how you'd treated her for reasons she couldn't possibly have understood, when she turned to you, she was still smiling. As always, her smile put a smile on your face too. You turned away from those soft brown eyes to glance back at the road in front of you.

"It's okay. I'm sorry I snapped. I just... it's a long story, Care-Bear."

"We've got a long ride ahead of us," she tried.

"I don't know that I'm feeling like talking about it right this second," you admitted.

She seemed to accept that. You felt her touch your arm with her hand. Warmth seemed to rush from her touch, up your arms, and into your chest. How one person could instill such comfort into you amazed you. She said a few soft words to you that you didn't quite hear, but you felt you might not need to. You knew they were words of comfort. Just that knowledge was enough to put a smile onto your face. Your eyes flickered from her to the road.

"No problem," Carol chimed. Then, without missing a single beat, she changed the subject. "Hey, which bag did you put the Fuzzy Peaches in?"

"The green backpack."

Just like that, it was easy again. Carol didn't let you linger on just how upset you were for more than a second. She practically dived into the back seat for the backpack, reappearing with the orange package in her hand. She plopped back down into her seat, still refused to put her seatbelt on, and ripped the package open. She reached out and turned up the music when one of your favourite songs came on. You wondered if she knew that.

"No! That piece goes over here!" You insisted.

Carol frowned and handed you the long pole.

Pitching a tent with an alien who hadn't even known was a tent was, up until five minutes ago, was not easy. She'd practically rolled herself up like a burrito in the rain fly right after nearly putting the stakes directly through the floor to pin the tent down. You'd been guiding her, preventing any damage from coming to it. She was listening intently, making sure she did everything exactly how you said. She stuck the peg through the guy line and looked at you.

"Like that?"

"Yeah. Perfect. I think we're just about done, Care-Bear."

At that, she unzipped the door, diving through it into the empty tent. You reached into the trunk of your car, throwing the many pillows, blankets, and sleeping bags through behind her, not caring much where they landed. When you finally shut the door and ducked into the tent, Carol was beneath the large pile, peering out from where only the top half of her face was visible. You had to chuckle, grabbing one of the blankets and pulling it over her face.

Carol insisted she set up. She had you sit aside by the door, munching happily on a small bowl of popcorn as you watched. She carefully unzipped the sleeping bags and lay them down on the floor, putting the pillows atop them, and then the two comforters stacked on top of each other on top of that. When she finally finished, she gestured proudly to her completed setup. You raised an eyebrow.

"We both sleeping there?"

She nodded. "It's cold."

You had to give her that. You were practically shivering just from waiting for her to finish. The sun had dipped beyond the horizon at this point, the darkness of night did nothing to heat up the air around you. You clambered under the blankets, careful not to drop any of the popcorn you still held. You placed it next to you, letting Carol reach over and grab some as she, too, climbed into the makeshift bed. She popped a piece into her mouth.

"Up to talking about it yet?"

It was a genuine question. Carol wasn't pushy. That was something you could tell by her tone. She had waited patiently and was continuing to wait for you to be ready to talk about what you needed to talk about. She didn't want you bottling it up, but she didn't want to pressure you. She was able to do that. You glanced down at the red blanket that covered your legs, pondering her question for a moment. Then you nodded your head yes.

"I just haven't felt myself recently," you shrugged. "I would like to get out there and find someone, no doubt. Recently, though, it's like my standards are unmeetable. No one seems even remotely appealing to me."

"No one at all?"

"Nat tried to set me up with her Russian model friend," you said, turning to Carol with a grin finally on your lips.

"Nothing?" Carol said, an exaggerated amount of shock on her face. "You must be broken."

You shoved her. She chuckled; the offensive action having done nothing. She was inhumanly strong. If you'd decided to punch her, you likely would've broken your hand against her. She shoved you back, only lightly, so you moved a few inches away from her. She stuck her hand back into the popcorn bowl as you shuffled back into your place beside her. She was chewing thoughtfully, and you didn't dare interrupt her with the very focused expression on her face.

"Do you already like someone? That usually takes away the appeal of anyone else."

You stopped to think about that. You knew that could be the case. In eleventh grade when you'd had a crush on Adelaide Artenbaker, you'd suddenly failed to find anyone else attractive at all. Of course, Adelaide had eventually rejected you on account that she was straight as an arrow. It wasn't malicious. She'd actually given you a kiss on the cheek and assured you that, if she discovered wasn't, she'd let you know. It had made you laugh.

Now, you had to wonder if there was anyone that was making your stomach flip and making you dismiss anyone else. It wasn't the Avengers. You'd been in the changing room with Natasha, the Black fucking Widow, two days ago, and she'd strutted up to you in nothing but her bra and underwear. You hadn't even bat an eyelash as she'd asked you if you wanted to get some Chinese food after the mission (but you had said yes, of course).

"Yeah. Maybe."

Her words had knocked some serious sense into you. You definitely had a crush on someone, and it had definitely been impairing your ability to get out on a date. That someone was around so little, though, that you hadn't realized right away just how you felt for them. Maybe if she visited Earth a little more often, you'd have realized why you blushed so deeply when she'd crawled into bed with you last night or right now.

"Who is it, then?"

Carol had a girlfriend. It may have been on-again-off-again, but she had a girlfriend. You were not now, nor ever, someone who would come between that. You were going to let her be happy with someone who was making her happy and you were going to be happy for her. You plastered a smile onto your face and reached into the bowl of popcorn that sat on your lap, letting the snack cloud the feelings of jealousy that you knew now weren't jealousy of a relationship, but if Carol.

"Nat."

Carol didn't miss a single beat. "Liar."

You glared at her. "The fuck do you mean? Telling me who I do and do not like?"

"I know who has your heart right now. It isn't Nat."

This time when she reached for the popcorn, she leaned over. To support her weight, her hand came to rest on your upper thigh. You had to refrain from reacting. You sucked the inside of your cheek between your teeth, biting hard on it to suppress any sort of reaction that Carol would have noticed. It seemed to have worked. She grabbed a small handful and then backed away, the pressure of her hand disappearing from your limb.

"Yeah? Who is it, then?"

"Someone that likes you back."

"And who says Nat doesn't?"

You might have actually been offended if it weren't Carol you were talking to. You were good enough for Natasha, right? She was practically a goddess in respect to her looks, but you were something, too. Not that you liked Natasha in that way. She was a friend. Carol was the one that you cared about. Something about that sweet smile and that confidence mixed with an innocence she had after being away from Earth for so long warmed your heart every time.

"Fair," Carol admitted. "But you know, you're pretty oblivious. With all the hints I've been dropping, you'd think you'd have realized your feelings are reciprocated."

"What?"

"I like you, dumbass. More than a friend likes a friend."

Your jaw might have dropped. You coughed, choking on the popcorn that you'd been eating as you whirled to face the blonde. She had a twinkle in her eyes, and a giggle escaped her lips when she saw the expression on your face. She tossed a piece of popcorn into the air, catching it in her mouth. She chewed on it as she waited, arms crossed, for you to collect yourself. Finally, after a long drink of water, you calmed.

"Pardon?"

"You're an idiot," she mumbled.

Then she grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you closer. You didn't fail to notice, as your lips moved against hers, that she moved the popcorn bowl so that it wouldn't spill. It seemed completely unimportant, though. You felt everything starting to melt away into Carol Danvers. Her lips were talented and kissing her felt like an intricate sport and suddenly you needed to breathe. When you pushed away, you realized what you'd done wrong.

Her feelings to you didn't matter. She had a girlfriend. Unless that fact changed, she and you didn't get to be more than your friend. You pushed her even further away. You knew she had the ability to, but she didn't resist. You backed off a little further so that your bodies were completely separated. Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but she didn't push. She even waited for you to speak first. Your eyes wouldn't meet hers.

"You have a girlfriend."

"I just said that to make you jealous," she scoffed.

You immediately got defensive. "I was not jealous."

"You were so!"

"Shut up."

She did. You suspected the only reason she had shut up was because she was kissing you again. It didn't matter. You were on cloud nine. You felt right again. You felt more right now than you ever had. Carol was exactly what you had needed for longer than you could figure out right then. She was clouding your thoughts and, honestly, you couldn't have cared less. You didn't want to think about anything besides how good her lips felt on yours right then.

You couldn't even find it in yourself to be mad at her for the little stunt she had pulled. You could only be glad that this so-called girlfriend wasn't actually real, and was just a part of her stupid plan. Without the girlfriend, you were free to kiss her as much as she would let you. Judging by how she was kissing you now, she wasn't going to stop you anytime soon. Her teeth grazed your bottom lip as she pulled away, not moving more than an inch from your lips, though.

The hand that clasped your shirt uncurled. She pressed her hand flat against the centre of your chest, pushing you onto your back. You had to chuckle as her knees pressed into the ground on either side of your waist. She kissed your nose once, scowling at the laughs that were beginning to bubble from your chest. You leaned up and kissed her lips for a brief moment, before using a hand to caress her cheek and tuck her hair behind her ear.

"What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing. You were right," you stated. "I'm kinda glad you were right."

"You're kind of glad? Can you imagine how stupid I'd have looked if I were wrong?" Carol laughed.

"Quite," you agreed with a nod.

You pulled her down next to you, wrapping your arms around her and feeling hers do the same to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, taking the time to admire her smiling face. She giggled a little, pecking your lips quickly. She didn't linger, though, having been preoccupied in reaching over your shoulder into the bowl of popcorn once more. She shoved a few pieces into her mouth and chewed happily.

"Care-Bear, what's more important: me or snacks?"

"You are a snack."

You gaped. "How the hell did you learn that term?"

She shrugged. "I hear things."

You rolled your eyes, pushing her away from you. She let you, reaching for her water bottle to wash down some of the salty flavour that had come off the popcorn. She offered you some water, which you accepted. When you finished and handed the bottle back to her, she pulled you close to her. Your body moved until it was flush against hers. Her torso was so warm you could've fallen asleep right then and there.

"You're more important."

Being more important than snacks, in the opinion of Carol Danvers, was just about the highest compliment you could have received.

#carol danvers #captain marvel #carol danvers fanfiction #carol danvers x reader #mcu #marvel #wlw #lesbian

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p---ink · 4 years

Text

Teach Me.

Author’s Note: So. I finally made a Peter Parker Fiction. And I know the gif is Arvin Russell, but that is for a reason, and maybe you'll see it, maybe you won't, BUT TELL ME IF YOU DO. So this is an unnamed OC fiction, but its mostly reader insert, aside from the fact that she’s black (surprise, surprise) and she has brown eyes. I made her an “OC” because of that fact. Also, get ready for some fluffy head cannons of Peter P. In the not-so-distant future though.

Summary: Maybe Peter Parker, isn't as innocent as he seems.

Warnings: Smut. Smut. and more Smut. Car-smut. Dark-ish Peter (Not really, but he’s not his usual wholesome self)

Song: Star-gazing by The Neighborhood. I literally based this entire fiction on this one song. Even if you don’t read the fic, you should listen to it.

Word Count: 5.5k

“If you don’t mind me asking,” She started, pausing a bit to give him time to look up at her, “ who brings a textbook to a frat party?”

His heart stopped for a moment when he realized who was speaking to him. But then he matched her grin shyly and replied, “It’s more of a conversation starter than anything.”

“Would you say its been working well?”

“I did somehow manage to get someone as pretty as you to speak to me.”

The smile that was already plastered on her face, grew wider along with her eyes and brows. “Wow Parker: Who knew you could be so bold after a few drinks?

“I’ve only had one, so the rest is all me.” He closed his book and readjusted his leg inviting her to sit. Then as if just realizing, he asked, “You know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. We went to Midtown together.” She said, getting comfortable on the couch.

“Yeah I know. But we barely spoke to each other. Sometimes I wondered if you even knew I existed.”

“I always kept tabs on cuties like you. Especially you, actually.” She declared.

“And you call me bold.” He muttered under his breath, a small blush creeping up.

“I’m always like this. Anyone who knows me, can tell you that. But anyone who knows you, would say the opposite. You were always so good.”

“Good?”

“Yes! Good. Innocent. Nice. Whatever floats your boat.”

“And I remember you being, bossy, assertive, and intimidating.”

She threw her head back in laughter before stating,“You say that like its a bad thing.” Coming down from her fits of giggles she adds, “You noticed me, too? Never thought I was on your radar.”

“How could anyone not notice you.” He asked. “We had English together our freshman year. First day of class, you challenged Mr. Frechowsky, for inflicting his political views on the rest of the class. He got so red in the face, after yelling at you for three minutes straight, but everyone was more shocked at you for being unfazed.”

“I forgot abou-”

“Sophomore year, you “accidentally” tripped Amy Shuemacker, after she made a rude comment about Ned’s weight. Junior year, you announced that you wanted to be not only the first female president, but the first who was black too. I remember telling myself you’d have my vote. Senior year, you almost had a mental breakdown when it looked like Michelle Obama was gonna run.” Peter finished, with not a hint that he was out of breath.

“I-” She was more than taken aback. “I’m embarrassed that you remember all of that. Its been like four years since we graduated. Frankly any other person would have forgotten.”

“I think its impossible for anyone who’s met you, to forget the day they did.” He admitted to her.

She just stared at him in awe for a moment. Mouth slightly agape from surprise. A shadow of a smile ever so present.

Even though he was the one to say it, it was his face that turned a tinge pinker than before when he realized the weight behind his words. He swallowed thickly, averting his attention to the patterns that lined the carpet, fearing that he made her uncomfortable. In all honesty, he used to have a proper crush on the girl, rivaled by even Romeo’s adoration for Juliet.

This was the same girl he once described as ethereal. He once told Ned that fairies wove the strands of her hair, and butterflies still lived there, claiming that he saw them playing beneath her braids. The sun literally lived under her skin, and it was the secret as to why it would glow, and why her smile was so bright. He would swear to anyone that listened, that the harp was made with her voice in mind, and that it, her voice, played a better melody. He used to be lovestruck. Guess those feelings still lingered.

If you asked him, two minutes ago had he gotten over it, his answer would’ve been yes. Would’ve been.

His sudden fluster—which she found adorable by the way, broke her from her trance as she grinned and said “Don’t act bashful now!” playfully shoving his arm as she uttered the words.

Quickly recovering from his earlier hiccup, he slowly returned her grin and tried to retaliate but before he could, “We have to go. Now.”

They looked up to see an irritated looking preppy girl impatiently scowling down at them. She couldn’t have been much older than 21, but no one told that to her clothes and aura. Her olive skin couldn’t hide the frown lines that had been assigned to her, nor the bags that would put a raccoon to shame. Besides the current circumstances that she would tell them in the next minute, Peter could tell on his own that the girl needed a date with sleep.

“What’s the matter Li? Is everything okay?”

“Yes, aside from the fact that Angie locked herself out of the apartment again.” She said sarcastically, muttering this last part under her breath “I swear I’ve had it with that girl.”

“Ah I see. Well then we better get going.” The girl affirmed, standing from her seat, making Peter rise from his. “Peter it was so nice seeing you. I hate to leave, I would’ve enjoyed catching up a bit more.” She said, turning to grab her coat.

“Well then we should catch up soon.”

She turned to nod her head, seemingly interested in his suggestion. “I’d love that. When did you have in mind?”

“How about now? if its a ride you’re looking for, I can drive you home.” Peter’s inner sixteen year old self, screamed at this opportunity. Time alone, with his four-year crush? He couldn’t not take advantage of the moment.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that. It’s all the way on the other side of town.” She informed him.

“But you’re not asking me to do it. I’m offering, because, ‘ya know; I haven’t seen you in a while and I’d like to catch up, too.” He said, second-guessing himself and praying that he didn’t come on too strong. “Ya know. Only if you want to.” He added just in case.

Taking too much time debating whether or not she should say yes, the girl’s friend did it for her. “Sounds great! I’ll see you at home.” Spinning on her heels, and walking out of the door.

“Well.” The girl started, smiling at her old schoolmate. “I guess that settles it.”

“Shit!” He cursed, killing the engine completely, and slamming his head back on the headrest. After a couple minutes of trying to get it to start, the boy gave up like his car did.

It had been a full three hours since Alisha left the party. The time was spent competing about who could find out more about the other. He learned that she still had a thirst for changing the world and community around her. She learned that the boy had been bitten by a radioactive spider and was now New York’s most friendly vigilante. She never knew that Peter could be so hilarious.

They were stranded on some back road, miles away from civilization, with rain coming down on the roof of the car like they owed it money.

“Peter, what did you expect?” She began to question, giggling as she spoke. “This car is so old, Fred Flintstone has a newer model.”

“Hey!” He cried, “Don’t badmouth Karen. She just needs a little work.”

“You mean a lot of work. Karen is ancient.”

“She’s been good to me.”

“Should I call Triple A?” She asked, ignoring his dramatics. “The rain will probably let up by the time they get here.”

“I’ve got this.” He sighed, readying himself to leave the car. “Besides, triple A doesn’t know Karen like I do. They won’t be able to give her the love and patience she deserves” He explained, the car’s rickety door sounding as he disappeared into the rain.

She heard that same distinct sound not ten seconds later, as he reappeared, soaking wet from the rain’s onslaught. His white t-shirt clung to his body, while beads of water raced down his skin. His messy locks, traded their dark brown hue for a jet black one, and his dirty converses shone a little brighter than they did before he left the car.

“Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.” He admitted, the leather making a squelching noise as he glued himself back to his previous seat.

“The offer for triple A still stands.”

“No. I’ll let this play out. But maybe I can call you an Uber.”

“There’s no way I’m leaving you out here all alone. We’ll let this play out.”

“But this may take a while.”

“I’m the reason you’re out here in the first place. And I like your company, so i’ll stay.”

Peter knew he couldn’t argue with that one, so he let silence befall the two of them. It stayed like that for a moment. It wasn’t quite awkward, but it was definitely palpable.

She thought to say something, he did the same, but neither could quite let their words come to life. It was unlike the girl he knew before, who said the first thing that came to mind. Unlike himself, who did the same, but in a less graceful way.

Finally, after what felt like hours of deafening quiet, Peter begins with, “How long have you and Brad been a thing?” The question fresh on his mind, since her phone rang yet again, with his ugly mug lighting up the screen. It was the fourth time she ignored the notification.

It was rare for Peter to hate a person. In fact he didn’t hate many at all. But there was something about Brad that always made his stomach clench. Didn’t help that he was sniffing around his girl.

“Hmm.” She pondered, tapping her chin with her index finger. Acting as if she was carefully thinking about it.“For about for-never and a day” She finally answered.

“Oh I thought, that since—“ Peter stammered, growing embarrassed by his assumption, and the disdain that coated his words.

“Anyone would have, with him blowing my phone up.” She sighed. “But alas, nothing will ever come of us. No matter how much he wants it to. Wish he’d take a hint.”

Back to silence. But this time it didn’t consume Peter. It gave him a bit of hope, enough hope to ask her his next question.

“Back at the party,” he started before pausing, which prompted her to question, yes, before he could properly collect his nerve to ask her what he wanted.

“Back at the party, you mentioned you always kept tabs on me. Especially me. What did you mean by that?”

“I may have had a small crush on you.” She answered without missing a beat. This of course took him by surprise, but not for long.

“Why did you never act on it?”

“Because I quickly realized you weren’t my type.” She said as if it was nothing in the world.

“Ouch. What did I do to make you realize that?” Peter asked. Though his tone was light-hearted, he tried not to let on that he was hurt.

“Nothing.” She replied. “You were just yourself. Peter Parker, the innocent good boy who would never harm a fly.”

Peter thought to himself for a moment. He thought long and hard before he decided to bring up the word she had uttered more than once tonight. “There goes that word again: innocent. What makes you think I’m innocent?”

“Come on Parker. Ned told me you once donated a one hundred dollar bill you found lying on the sidewalk to the local homeless shelter. And that was after you couldn’t find its original owner. That’s got innocence written all over it.”

“Does that make me innocent or a good person?”

“They’re one and the same.”

“There is a big difference between the two.”

“I disagree. The two are definitely interchangeable. Good people are the ones who haven’t been corrupted yet.”

“So does that mean you aren’t a good person?”

“I think I’m a neutral person. Not exactly good, not exactly bad. Just walking the tightrope. I probably would have taken the money, and felt bad about it later.”

They both chuckled at her statement, letting it end that segment of the conversation. Though Peter was done fighting with her about her type’s moral compass, he wasn’t done with the subject all together.

“So,” He paused, and she braced herself, taking notice of how every time he did that, a question she was reluctant to answer followed. “what exactly is your type?”

An uncomfortable breathy laugh passed through her lips as she answered. “I didn’t exactly know it at the time, but I’m able to put it into words now.” She admitted, taking her time as she explained.

“I guess ideally you were my type. Nice. Harmless. Smart. But I was also looking for someone who knew how to take control. I’m in control of everything in my life, so it feels good to meet a person who lets me relinquish that. Or in more crude terms, a person who has the ability to fuck my brains out.” She declared as she leered in his direction with a small smirk playing her lips.

She was only teasing. But she could feel that the air had grown thick on the side of the car that Peter had resided in. For a split second, she could have sworn that she saw something snap in him. But as quickly as it appeared, it vanished, making her feel as though she had imagined the entire thing.

But she knew that couldn’t have been right. Known for many things, her vivid imagination wasn’t one of them. His breath hitched. His shoulders tensed. She hadn’t imagined that. What he said next, after what felt like an hour of silence told her that she didn’t imagine anything at all.

“Did teaching me, ever cross your mind?” He asked. His grip on the steering wheel, turning his knuckles white. She saw his Adam’s apple bob after he spoke, and his chestnut eyes focused on the rain that splattered against the windshield.

“U-um I-,” She stammered, Peter catching her by surprise. She had to really think about his question. “I suppose it never did.”

“You still want me?” He asked her, turning his attention back on her.

“Huh?”

“Am I still your type? Aside from the fact that I can’t take control?”

She just swallows, before nodding.

Noting her surprise, but not relenting he says, “Then teach me.”

“What?” She questions, fearing she misheard him.

“Teach me.” He repeated, only elaborating when she scrutinized his face. “Show me exactly how you want to be touched. Kissed. Fucked.”

The way he said the word, fuck, was so filthy. It almost made her lose the rest of her composure. Not like she had much left. He had already rendered her speechless, now he was ruining her panties.

No. She wouldn’t let it play out like this. She had a reputation to uphold.

She peered over her shoulder, then back to him trying to assess whether or not he was serious. When his face showed no sign of amusement, she swung her door open, to trade her passenger’s seat for the back one.

The rain’s onslaught was still vicious, so her previously dry form was borderline drenched. July’s summer heat, did no favors in keeping her warm, and she had no idea if she was shivering from the rain or her nerves. “Are you gonna come keep me warm or what?” She challenged, trying to find her confidence again.

It was only seconds before Peter joined her, but it was no question that his body was shaking with anticipation. He looked at her expectantly, surveying her every move. From the way her eyes flitted to the ground, to the way her hands busied themselves by rubbing at her thighs. She was nervous.

It must have been a snowy day in hell.

“What should we do first?” She asked.

“Does the instructor usually ask the pupil what lessons they should start with?”

“Kiss me?” She suggested, half-ignoring his comment.

“Are you asking me, or telling me?” Peter remarked, amusement glinting in his eyes.

Annoyance overtaking her tone now, she demands this time, “Kiss me.”

“Say please.” He teased.

“Damn it Peter, fucking kiss m—”

And then he glued his lips to hers. They were sweet and gentle, like him, but still managed to convey his longing. He hoped the kiss would capture all the times he imagined doing it when she would flash those pretty brown eyes his way. When she would speak in a way that put an angel’s timbre to shame. Even when she would fucking breathe, he imagined kissing her until his lips fell off. He hoped the kiss would make up for all of the ones he was dying to share with her over the years.

The pads of his fingers roamed over her silky smooth skin, starting at her cheeks, ending at her neckline. He tasted the flavor of her strawberry chapstick, the same one that made her lips feel and look as smooth as butter. When he inhaled and tasted the faint scent of minty watermelon on her breath, he decided he couldn’t get enough. He wanted to kiss her until he committed to memory every bump on her tongue. Then he would be satisfied.

“Like this?” He whispered, pulling back to inhale the same air as her, almost turning feral at the sight of her swollen lips and blown pupils. “Or,” he started, leaning back in to go again, searching her eyes, “like this?”

Whereas kiss one was innocent and sweet, the way that Peter portrays himself, kiss two was the definition of what he could be…or maybe what he already was, she couldn’t tell. He was filthy with the way his tongue glided against hers. The hot wet muscle played hers like an instrument, before locking the two together. One of his hands planted itself on the nape of her neck, forcing her to feel every measure against her mouth. She couldn’t move if she wanted to, not that she wanted to. Just like him she wanted to relish the taste of him.

With his nose pressed against her cheek, and hers against his, they kissed like they wanted to touch the other’s souls. They began breathing in the rest of the other’s air, like they wanted to swap lungs. Exploring the other’s bodies, like they would die if they didn’t study the exact texture of the other’s skin.

It took everything in Peter to restrain himself. To keep his thumbs from traveling beneath her shirt. He nipped at his tongue to keep from nipping at her lips and skin. He tried shifting in his seat to distract himself from the shifting going on in his jeans.

It certainly didn’t help the growing tent in his pants when the girl planted her thighs on either side of his, rocking and rolling her hips to alleviate some of the tension in her panties.

She took over the kiss, setting the pace and overcoming the surprise from Peter earlier.

Her fingers, that were previously glued to his face, began fumbling with the hem of his shirt, peeling the wet material off and over his head. She marveled at his sculpted chest for a moment, before Peter followed suit, pulling her dampened top over her arms and flinging it over the seat.

A throaty groan passed his lips when she resumed her measures against his hips. Grinding herself down on his hardening member.

Her breathy whimpers intensified when his surprisingly warm hands traveled along her skin, caressing her soft flesh. She was getting more worked up the more Peter mimicked the movement of her hips, grinding upwards while simultaneously pinning her waist down.

She tugged harshly on the patch of hair that lived on the back of his neck, eliciting one of the sexiest groans she had ever heard. His heavily lidded eyes that held the same fire as hers, both scared and excited her.

As she leaned in closely, preparing her words carefully she ordered him to, “Kiss me here,” before planting her lips on his neck. Flattening her tongue to lick a stripe up the exposed skin, she began swirling the appendage before nipping, licking, and sucking until his skin had a reddish purple hue.

She got lost in the feel of him, succumbing to the sound of his hisses and moans only to yelp a moment later, when Peter mimicked her earlier actions.

With a fistful of her hair, and her exposed neck jutting out towards his lips he licked a stripe against the skin, just as she did earlier, only his measures were steady and calculated, taking note of every flinch and hitch of her breath. He found her sweet spot in seconds, focusing all of his attention there.

With her nails digging into his flesh, and her hips stuttering, Peter knew he had her where he wanted her. “Like that?” He rasped, pulling away to admire the strings of purple and blue that littered her skin.

“Fuck yea Parker; you learn fast.” She gasped, attempting at a laugh, as she peeled her chest off of him. She took a hand of his into hers, grasping two of his fingers as she bought them to her lips.

Hollowing her cheeks as she sensually sucked and lubricated his digits, she bought his other hand down to her shorts, beckoning him to unbutton them. “Touch me here.” She murmured, eyes taking in the wide curious ones staring back at her.

With the newly slick fingers, Peter did as she told him, dipping his fingers beneath the waistband of her panties and finding her nub instantaneously. “Right here?” He enquired, when her breathing turned shaky.

“Mmm, god yes!” She praised, as he worked his fingers over her.

Setting a consistent pace, Peter lightly grazed her clit, every time he ran his fingers up and down her folds. “Am I doing this right?” He questioned, flicking and teasing her core.

“Mhm” She mewled, “fuck y-your fingers feel so good” Her speech was now becoming slightly incoherent.

“Yeah?” He groaned, “What about my mouth?” He asked, just before unclasping her bra a little too effortlessly with one hand. Latching his lips against her perky chest, he massaged the other mound with his free hand.

Words were lost on her, as she became a wanton mess. She couldn’t fathom how he could be so skillful with both hands. How a person could multitask the way that he did was indescribable. His hand on her clit didn’t let up, but neither did the one that tweaked and pulled on her nipple. Not to mention the hot tongue that darted and sucked meticulously at her other. She couldn’t stifle her cries if she tried.

Riding his fingers, she pressed his head further into her chest, becoming greedy with his touch, as she sprinted towards her orgasm. She thought that this feeling couldn’t get any better.

Of course, Peter was full of nothing but surprises tonight, and needed to prove her wrong. He let two of his fingers slip inside of her, while a thumb replaced the ones that were glued to her clit. Rubbing circles against her sex, he pumped the two fingers furiously in and out of her hole.

“Does that feel good, baby?”

But the girl didn’t answer, Her mouth hung open as if she wanted to, but the words were jumbled somewhere in her throat. Her face twisted into pleasure, and she couldn’t do anything but succumb to his measures against her body.

It wasn’t long before she felt her stomach spasming, the heat pooling to her core, her already sensitive flower growing even more sensitive, as she came into his palm.

Her juices coated his digits, her walls fluttered around them, and her skin was now hot to the touch, as Peter forced her climax out of her.

Tears flooded her eyes, as she took in as much air as she could. When had she stopped breathing? Maybe sometime during the earth-shattering orgasm her old classmate was giving her.

Once the ringing in her ears subsided, and her lower region began to cool again, she thanked the boy and praised him as she said, “You did so well,” before planting hot wet kisses on his shoulder and neck.

She stopped when she felt his body shaking. Coming back up to eye him, she asked what he found so funny.

Peter tried to hide the smirk that plastered his lips but he couldn’t hold his act any longer. “You just don’t get it do you?” He asks as he casually licks and sucks at his fingers, just as she did earlier, relishing in the taste of her essence.

The confusion on her face and brain was evident. “Get wha—” He had her pinned on her back, before she could utter the last syllable.

The tight space was cramped, but the boy had more than enough room to stalk his prey. He hovered above her, ridding her of the rest of her clothes in one fell swoop, before delivering his monologue.

“I don’t know what it is about girls like you, but I swear you drive me crazy.” He admitted, before removing his jeans in a quick motion. “You always assume that just because I’m a nice guy, I won’t be able to fuck your brains out.” He informed, before revealing a hidden condom and rolling it on before lining himself up at her entrance. “But I hope that if tonight proves anything to you,” He starts, eyes finally darting up to land on her horror-filled ones, “it will be that your mindset can land you in a whole heap of trouble.”

And with that, he grasps the door above her head, before sinking himself into her.

Groaning at the feel of her, Peter’s facade dropped completely. Her tight little cunt feels even better than he imagined, and he hopes that he feels better than she ever imagined.

He starts slow, with the intent of her feeling every ridge of his cock, as it threatens to invade her stomach. Her soft tits bouncing with every thrust, send a jolt through his body every time her nipples graze his chest. The way his name falls off her sweet tongue, has him in shambles, as he picks up his pace, throwing slow and steady out of the window.

Her cries are loud in his ear, as he ruts against her sex. He’s so thick, its hard for her to think straight. He can feel the indents of her nails as they dig into his lower back; she tries to press his ass closer to her, never wanting him to leave.

Maybe if it were any other guy fucking her, she would have felt the seat buckle digging into her back. Maybe she would have felt her sticky sweaty skin on the leather of his back seat. Maybe the awkward position her head was in would have spoiled her experience. But with Peter, she could only focus on the pleasure.

His thrusts were relentless now. His hot breath was fanning the side of her cheeks. His previously damp hair, stuck to her neck, as he drove himself further into her skin. Nothing could distract him away from her in this moment.

Nothing but the faint glow of her phone, that is. It’s buzzing, and vibrations immediately catching his eye, as he held his head up. That same dangerous smirk that she saw earlier returning.

“Look who’s calling, baby.” He purred, overcoming the stutter of his hips. When he held her phone up for her to see, her heart sank at the mischief behind his words. Brad. “Should we answer it?”

“No, Pete!” She cried.

“Oh come on, that would be rude wouldn’t it?” He dared, before delivering a particularly hard thrust, that sent her mind into a haze. “We can stop so you can take this—”

“No! D-don’t stop” She begged, prying the phone from his fingers, and fumbling with the answer button.

“Babe? Hello?” Brad’s irritating voice answered flooding, her phone’s speaker. But the girl didn’t answer immediately, because she was too busy trying to stifle her whimpers.

“Hey Brad!” She finally choked out, sounding somewhat normal. How she managed to do it, she couldn’t say.

“Wow! Finally. This is like my eighth time trying you. I almost can’t believe you answered. What are you up to?”

“Should you tell him what you’re up to, babe?” Peter devilishly whispered against her skin.

“Nothing!” She whined into the phone.

“Whoa. Are you okay? You sound a little off?”

“You should tell him you sound like this because I’m making you feel so good.” Peter suggested, driving her body up and down the seats. “I bet he’d wish he were me right now.”

“I-I’m just a feeling a l-li-little sick is all.” She breathlessly stuttered.

“Should I come over?”

“Ah yes Peter!” She wailed, when the boy starts circling his fingers against her clit, while simultaneously grinding slowly but roughly into her. She’s no longer paying attention to the man on the other end. His curses don’t faze her, nor does Peter’s actions as he releases the phone from her grip.

“Hey Brad. Remember me.” He casually asks, ignoring Brad’s threats. “Yeah no man, don’t worry about her: I’ll make sure she’s real good and taken care of.” He promises, before ending the call, and tossing the device into the passenger’s seat. “Think he finally got the hint?”

Peter then takes the girl’s hips into his hands, lifting her inches off the seat, before pulling her body onto his dick at an ungodly speed.

Crying. She’s literally crying, with tears streaming down her face. Her voice is becoming hoarse with moans. She had never experienced such intense sex in her life.

Peter brings the hand that was previously plastered on the glass down to the girl’s face. “would this be the definition of fucking your brains out, baby?” He grunts, in reference to the girl’s constant repetition of his name. It’s the only word she can remember, as he fucks her into the chair.

His movements shook the car. The heat that their bodies radiated, fogging up the glass. The scent of their sex now embedded in the fabric of his seats. The boy was completely untamed.

Her screams were one among the things that set him off. The way her body writhed against his was another. The stutter in her speech another. But the unbridled lust that her eyes held, was the literal icing on the cake.

Thank fuck she came before him. Her tight little hole constricting and clenching his dick. And when he started slipping in and out, her eyes glued shut, and her chest started to rise and fall, he knew that she had came.

A sweaty fucked out mess before him, she needed Peter to finish her off before she was satisfied. “Drown me in your cum” She begged, and it was like he knew exactly what she wanted.

Unsheathing himself from her, he ridded himself of the condom, and started tugging violently at his cock. Fucking his hand, not unlike the way he fucked her earlier, he spurted his milky white seed all over her supple brown canvas, a husky groan roaring from his chest as he threw his head back in pleasure. His seed extinguished the heat that resided in her skin, and she closed her eyes shut, letting her head fall back down on the seat.

The image of his white paint, all over her stomach, chest, and tits, bleeding into his memory, as he came back down from his high.

Once back down to earth, reality began to sink back in. Immediately recomposing himself, Peter blurted, “Fuck are you okay? Was I too rough?”

His sudden outburst almost made her jump out of her skin, but she quickly recovered. “Oh god no Parker! I loved every minute of that.” She lazily smiled reassuringly. “Do you always fuck like that?”

Peter returned the smirk, blushing before saying, “I’ve always wanted to fuck you like that.”

After planting a final kiss on her lips, he reached into the center console, to scavenge a few wet wipes, cleaning her skin before discarding them.

Moments later, they reunited with their lost articles of clothes, pulling the fabrics over their limbs before crawling back into the front seat.

When Peter put his seatbelt back on, and cranked the car up with no effort, he felt the heat of the girl’s eyes on his skin.

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded by her glare.

“Was there ever anything wrong with the car?”

And then as if just realizing Peter mouthes oh, before telling her simply “No.” Adding on that he just wanted an excuse to spend more time with her.

“Well how the fuck did you know I wasn’t gonna just take your offer for an Uber?” She asked, more impressed than pissed.

“Because you’re a neutral person, and a neutral person would feel too bad about doing that.”

“There’s a lot of things I still have to learn about you Parker.” She admits, sinking down into her seat. Heat rising to her cheeks, as a new crush began to develop.

“Don’t worry. I’m willing to teach you.”

A/N: So like...don’t be afraid to tell me what you think. I swear I dont bite...unless you're into that. also this was edited it, but probably not well, so tell me if you see an error.

#peter parker x reader #Peter Parker smut #Peter Parker x black!reader #black!reader #Peter Parker fluff #spiderman x reader #marvel smut #marvel imagines #spiderman #Peter parker #black reader #smut #dark!peter x reader

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