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#this is what happens when history gets and by a certain group
misscammiedawn · 13 hours
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You may have discussed it before, but would you mind speaking a little bit on how you discovered you have DID?
I feel like I have a pretty stable core identity but there have been times under intense stress where I’ve experienced sudden “switches” in my personality. During a particularly bad period for a little over a year there was a time where I distinctly felt like a different person and did things I wouldn’t normally do, and I remember the specific moment where I came back into my body and became “me” again. This doesn’t happen often, but it has happened more than once throughout my life. When I see people talk about plurality I feel a little confused because their identities often seem to have their own names and genders and ages and backstories, and it seems so cut-and-dry.
I know these are all things to discuss with my therapist but I love how you talk about your own experiences. How can you differentiate between DID and other kinds of dissociation?
Thank you for asking, anon! I'm glad you are going to talk to your therapist about it while also doing the reading and reaching out-- heaven knows our own journey within the US mental healthcare system was rocky at best. The latest chapter of Madison/Belladonna is heavily sourced from IRL circumstances both in receiving the diagnosis and the decades long journey in the mental healthcare system to get there.
But to answer more directly-- (as always we are answering from a psychopathology lens for care and treatment, we recognize the beauty of plurality and do not reduce ALL experiences to mental healthcare concerns, we are approaching our own situation and experiences this way as it is how we lived it)
Our journey was guided from the outside. Both therapists and our partner who was able to see these "mood swings" in us were able to gently guide us to water despite our fierce denial and rejection of our situation. What started as "we're fine" turned to "mood swings" turned to "BPD" turned to "---maybe we should read up on OSDD?" Turned to our current therapist telling us over a year ago that we had DID after months of testing and interviewing to determine.
I should also note I likely realized it MULTIPLE times in my history and buried it again and again. I legitimately think that people in my former life knew and either assumed I knew too or worse I had told them and forgot that I told them. It worries me because I cannot ever be certain. I once asked my ex-wife about it after the divorce/diagnosis and she did say it was weird how she had a "different husband" depending on environment and social group. She said she never noticed it during the interactions, but she would always think back and feel that the "me" in any given moment was different from the ones she observed in social/work situations etc.
So like--- even if people notice, sometimes they don't even realize what they're seeing. Honestly I go full No Mask at work even when a male part fronts and no one really bats an eye. I don't think *most* people are as observant as we worry they are.
ANYWAY! Looking back these are the signs that I ignored:
- I not just wrote a consistent journal through every phase of my life (even going as far as to have a "memory list" that I populated "when I felt like it" (<- IE: when a part that associated with the memory was fronting and wanted to type about it) and more importantly I READ it. Often. I sometimes think that the majority of our memories are just imagined versions of what we wrote. That notion is helped by the fact we [used to] stop journaling during times of crisis or delete journal/chat log to prevent us thinking about distressing things.
- I wrote a lot of plural characters in my stories since my teenage years. Kinda like I kept writing female versions of myself? Funny how the Trans and DID acceptance arcs are so dang similar.
- I would emotionally cave in on myself after gatherings, berating myself for how I had acted all evening. Getting deeply upset at how "out of control" I was. We outright AVOID mood altering substances like alcohol or weed.
- When talking about traumatic memories we typically just tell the story rote. It doesn't bother us. We told therapists without batting an eyelid. This is dissociation. We were disconnecting ourselves from our memories. Emotionally distancing ourselves from the experiences.
- In the same vein, when we remember things we imagine things in locations like a 3rd person camera. Not populated. We don't hear or feel or associate. It's just a place and a knowledge. Our whole "context packet" thing where we just understand something without *feeling* it.
- Deleted emails and chatlogs, references to things we don't remember. Discord messages with people we don't remember talking to. It bothers me how many people in our online communities we were actually close to at some stage of our life and then erased. This is specific to us but Dawn has opened many accounts in the hypnokink community and Camden has shut them down and this has happened so many times that we don't even get upset when we find a buried email from 2013 with sign-up to a Yahoo Email account we don't remember having. That sounds dramatic. It's more just. Go into your emails, pull stuff up from 5-10 years ago and just scroll a while. See how much you remember and associate into. It's NORMAL to forget what websites you were browsing a decade ago. It's not normal to have an entire *LIFE* you hid from yourself.
- Sometimes people just... saw/knew us before we did and there were times when they would describe a version of us they weren't supposed to see and we got complete dysphoria over it. Sometimes it as joyful. Someone we love saw Cammie well enough to say when we transitioned that they wanted to see that "windswept girl with the big smile" all of the time. Sometimes it's mortifying, like when someone approaches Camden as if she is Dawn and Camden REJECTED that side of us so heavily that it caused emotional meltdowns and turmoil because Camden didn't WANT to be a sexy confident domme, she could barely see herself as a woman, when people saw the wrong version of us *without permission* it was just a violation that made things WORSE.
- On that note-- meltdowns-- we mentioned the whole "after a social gathering we'd emotionally cave in on ourselves" thing, there was a lot of that. After work we'd get a complete drop from having to be in Manager Mode all day or we'd have a crisis after erotic intimacy encounters because we're sex repulsed ace. The fact is our nervous system was activated during those times, our survival instincts were kicked in and brought the part associated to the surface to DEAL and when they backed off our body was still reacting to the trauma trigger and it would cause us to implode.
All of these things in therapy brought us to the conclusion of BPD. Because therapists be like that at times. A *TRAUMA* therapist gave us some DES-II, MID and ACE tests and worked out what was going on within 3 months.
It took a further 6-9 months with constant support from loved ones who were able to see us as individuals to *ACCEPT* it. This is a denial disorder, it doesn't want to be found. Asking questions, being honest and being accepting is the best way to come to terms with it. I wish it were easier and I wish you luck and support in your journey. Our inbox is always open!
You're not alone <3
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lovedaisy02 · 1 year
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Modern society finding out women could read in the medieval ages:
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AITA for turning someone in for academic dishonesty?
I’m an American IB diploma candidate, and this ask does center around that, so sorry if we all just sound unbearably seventeen-years-old.
If you don’t know what the IB diploma is, think of it as if you had to write a bunch of essays and take a bunch of classes and do a bunch of service hours and then take AP tests on all those classes and add the AP scores together, and if they add up to a certain number, you get a special diploma that looks good to colleges.
Only eight people in the entire grade (we’re seniors and our exams are happening so we’re at the very end) are left in the IB diploma program right now because we made it this far and are all hoping our exam scores and essays. The program isn’t super popular at our school so we tend to have to mostly prepare ourselves for exams and such, so we’re all very proud of ourselves for getting this far and hoping that when our scores come out we get the diploma.
In short, we’ve done TONS of work. TONS OF WORK. And we haven’t received the amount of support that some IB schools are able to give. And suddenly, one of the IB diploma candidates admits in the group chat, “yeah, chatgpt wrote all of my IB essays.” If you know stuff about IB, she explicitly admitted to cheating on her Extended Essay, TOK Essay, TOK exhibition, Chemistry HL IA, History HL IA, Literature HL Essay, and Art HL Comparative Study.
That’s hours and hours and hours and hours of work that the rest of the diplomats candidates did that she’s just flippantly admitting she let an AI do for her.
but…….it also wasn’t really any of my business. So I wasn’t sure whether I should tell or not—especially since I’m the known goody-two-shoes of the group and I didn’t want to be viewed as a tattletale.
I asked two of the diploma candidates I’m friends with what they thought. One of them said “don’t be a snitch,” and the other said she wasn’t sure and kinda felt like I should talk. So… split response.
I was leaning towards “don’t be a snitch,” but eventually I just felt really indignant that this girl and I might receive the same end result for doing wildly different amounts of work. And I had evidence that she cheated—she admitted it herself. So I went to the school’s IB coordinator and I talked. I showed the screenshot. I essentially betrayed one of the candidates in a very tight knit group of students who are all breaking our backs to get this diploma with little to no IB-specific support from our teachers (our classes are all co-seated with non-IB-test-takers, who take up most of the class, which is an entirely different issue), but now it turns out one of us wasn’t even doing the work the whole time…
So I did it and it went to the administration and they’re “deciding how to proceed.”
Reason I’m worried I’m TA: she trusted us with that information and I told on her
Reason I think I might not be TA: it feels unfair that we should have the same shot at getting the IB diploma when the nights I stayed up crafting the perfect extended essay were the same nights she asked chatgpt to write her an essay and then moved on with her life and somehow did it well enough to not get caught.
AITA?
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legalkimchi · 22 days
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Please learn more than just a Phrase.
I don't expect people to be subject matter experts on issues of global politics.
But false equivalency is rampant in online discourse regarding three major conflicts in the world today. I am using the word conflict in this post, however, when applicable, i will use other words to describe specifics. (Nuance folks... it's a thing)
So i start off with an assumption that most people don't understand the basics of most international events. As an american, i only know some of the stuff that is happening within my own nation. This is not an insult to you, dear reader. Rather, it is a position we all must realize we are in. You do not understand most world issues.
You just don't.
you aren't there. it isn't your life. you don't have the academic background.
I saw a post recently calling for "freedom for Palestine, Sudan, and Congo."
And it bothered me. Not because i am opposed to peace, (how is asking for ceasefire a bad thing?) but rather because i believe simplifying the conflicts with this wording showcases the ignorance of the differences.
Not all conflicts are the same.
In palestine, we have a convoluted mess where two groups claim a territory as home. getting into the in-depth story of this conflict takes time. Foundational elements of it take place thousands of years ago, but the conflict itself is only about 75 years old. So it is a long and short story. Currently, the sovereign state of Israel is engaging in a genocide in Gaza. Asking for freedom for palestinians makes sense. they live in an apartheid state and would like a state of their own. they wish to be free of occupation. you can argue with the details, be pro-israel, or whatever, but that is the basic ask of palestinians. (if you want to get into anti-semetic regional sentiment or the desire of certain groups to eradicate the israeli jewish population or Israel as a nation that's a different topic, not the point of what i'm talking about.)
In the Congo and Sudan, it is a different story.
Let's start with the Congo. First of all, Which Congo?
Let's please understand that there is the Republic of the Congo and the Democratic Republic of the Congo. The Republic of the Congo is a former french colony. Then there is Democratic Republic of the Congo. Some of us might remember this country as Zaire.
the DRC is the congo we are talking about in the news. This was a former belgian colony and the atrocities committed by the belgians there rival any genocide in human history. i've seen estimates between 5 million and 20 million deaths. some estimates state the population of native congolese were cut in HALF. since the turbulent start of the country after their independence in 1960, the country knew relative peace until the 1990s. Then a mixture of a weak central government and the Rwandan Civil war (which had it's own genocide you may have heard about) spilled over into what was then Zaire. Zaire dissolved, and the DRC took it's place, But the wars have been raging off an on since then. earlier this year, more civil war violence erupted AGAIN. This displaced millions, AGAIN. while the DRC is a bit of an autocratic and repressive regime, the rebel groups are groups with ties with the Rwandan government and the other group with ties to Isis. It's awful all the way down.
Sudan has had an ongoing civil war for over 20 years. I remember this because i helped lead some anti-genocide protests regarding Darfur when i was in college 20 years ago. I've been following this conflict for nearly my entire adult life. you may have heard about this with regards to the Save Darfur coalition regarding the genocide in Darfur. Well, that genocide has continued (albeit with less intensity) for 20 years. the civil war lasted until 2021, but restarted in a different form in late 2023. the conflict is now between two different sides of the military government fighting each other.
It is an awful conflict full of awful leaders. Sudan's government suffered a revolution in 2019 from a dictator, only to have that government overthrown in a coup by the current dictator. The Sudanese military is supported by folks like Russia and North Korea. you might see that among the other countries that support sudan, bunch of communist countries, and you might think "hey, maybe al-Burhan is a leftist".
no... no he is not.
He is a military despot. He has no ties to any real ideology. He just runs sudan as a military dictator.
So who is opposing him?
The Rapid Support Forces. and you may be thinking "ok, so they are the good guys? trying to overthrow the dictator?"
No... They are the ones that instigated the Genocide in Darfur.
This is a situation is "no matter who wins, the people of Sudan lose."
So when folks claim these are all the same. Or wonder why folks talk about one and not the other.
there are reasons. These are very different conflicts. Please learn about them. It matters more than spouting some 4 word slogan calling for "freedom."
Find out what the people of these areas actually need. Learn more about what is happening. My description above is incomplete. I may even get some things wrong. I am trying to keep informed, but I am not an expert, nor do i live there. Raise voices from the region and find out if there are ways to help.
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Hi! Can i ask for a self aware twst when the reader surprises adopted Silver as their son. Like just pointing at him and saying 'you are my child now' with Silver, Lilia and Sebek. Hope you have a good day!
Hehe. Anon, you know what you are doing. In fact, I would say you even want the chaos. And for that I love you come here so I can hug you.
Self-aware au
I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!
WARNINGS: Yandere themes, Diasomnia chapter spoilers (Lilias part, maybe Sebek), religion, violence, isolation, kidnapping, obsessive behavior
Lilia Vanrouge/(Platonic) Silver/Sebek Zigvolt-Adopting Silver
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Oh ok. Cool cool coolcoolcoolcoolcool
Well, at least that one room dedicated to you in the form of an altar can now be used for more practical uses (finally)
When Lilia heard you say those words and point at his son, he fell from the chandelier he was dangling from
Not only did he have to navigate through not accidentally telling his son that he was the blood related son of an enemy general and that exactly this general killed Malleus mom
But also that he had now a second parent that also happened to be god
Mhm totally normal
Conversations to strangers about his family were already playing out like this in his head:
Hi, I am Lilia Vanrouge, yes the one in your history book, this is my son Silver, yes he looks like a certain knight, and my lovely partner and also parent of this lovely human, yes, FU**ING GOD THEMSELVES
Ah yes, sitting in church will totally not be awkward after this
Bro legit sits you down with a pen and paper, asking you to sign the marriage certificate
Asks you what flowers you want to have on your wedding. Doesn't matter if you are a woman, man or identify as something else, he is planning that
Also has already planned out how to get you into the Valley of Thorns without anyone noticing
Because no matter how devoted he is to you, he will always be too greedy to share your attention with someone else
You could have said this as a joke or some other protective instinct towards the silver-haired male but all that man's father hears is a marriage proposal
Lilia is just happy that you feel some sort of positive way to his family member (makes things easier when you are stuck in that cabin)
I mean, he did see Silver as a present from you, a child meant to bring him back to the light after being so long in the shadow of war
And now the three of you were together! How lovely!
Which would mean that you planned this all along. Dear Overseer, if you liked the idea of you being a family you could have just told him so
He will be the best partner to raise a child together you could dream of
And should someone dare to interrupt the perfect, peaceful life you three (plus two more) had, he wouldn't mind swinging that sword again
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Wait what?
What do you mean with that?
Are you sure you want him to be your son? Really?
Apparently he was not the only one surprised since he could hear the thud of his father falling to the ground behind him and Seek screaming somewhere behind him
Be prepared for a silver haired knight to look at you with the biggest puppy eyes and ask "Do you really want me as you son?"
Critical hit! Someone call a doctor. I think the Valley of Thorns god can be killed by cuteness
After that he is glued to your side (even though you have to part sooner or later since he is not living in Ramshackle)
One morning you woke up to the guy standing there with some food being like "I made some food."
Like where the Heck did he even get the keys for the dorm? (He broke in through a hole in the ceiling)
Silver always comes running to you whenever he does something and wants praises
Once he was best in one of his classes and he stood there with the report like he could turn into a dog and get headpats from you any second
But, as I am sure you are aware of, this is a blog with yandere themes and we have to say goodbye to the fluff at some point
That sword training comes in handy is all I'm saying
I mean, he has probably enough strength to break someone's leg with his bare hands by simply applying some pressure
And that one Diasomnia student that tried to take his son-status away from him was found again in a not-so-compatible-state-with-life kind of situation
I'm letting you imagine what happened
Like Lilia he is ready to burn everyone who dares to interfere with your little family
The forests of his homeland are pretty though so no need to worry about the appearance of your surroundings once they bring you to your new home (who needs social interaction anyways?)
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A second of silence
And then the screaming started
“OH HOW KIND OF OUR OVERSEER! TO SHOW A MORTAL THEIR KINDNESS AND CARING SIDE!”
Seek would be lying if he said that he wasn't surprised
You, aka the Overseer, aka some higher being, AKA GOD, were known in the Valley of Thorns to be kind and caring, yet also distant and never approaching others directly
But then you literally adopt someone, making that person someone in your inner cycle?
Well, if Sebek knew one thing then that those Priests were going to have a crisis as soon as they learned about this
Totally not jealous
He would try to get closer to you since, apparently, you did allow others to get close to you
But he was happy as long as you were
After all, he was now the (not-so-official appointed) shield of the Valley of Thorns, something he got passed on by his grandfather
So of course he couldn't be family with you
That didn't mean he couldn't “help” you
Someone intruded on that dinner you had with Lilia and Silver?
Ouch… that punch must have hurt
Whenever Silver or his Father had to interfere because someone else came too close then they were some incredibly slick (looking at you Rook) or lucky person
Don't let his loud mouth fool you
This crocodile has done unmentionables in your name in order to make things easier for your new found family
For what? Oh you know, becoming his neighbor back home… forever
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radiance1 · 10 months
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An off-shoot to an off-shoot!
Danny left the human world for the Ghost Zone, as the Crown Prince he has quite a lot of responsibilities, much more than he would like in all honesty.
He barely even knew there was a high society of the Ghost Zone, some of which he has met and others he's just questioning the existence of.
He was already tired of the amount of marriage proposals he was sent and had to sort through, and there was still 3 more mountains to go!
He was honestly looking forward to the calls from his two best friends when he was finally able to get a break from his duties as prince. Never has the sound of his friends' voices felt oh so sweet.
Sometimes he visits Sam when he managed to convince Pariah, or when there just wasn't any work to be done. He tried to visit Tucker too but, when he tried to leave Amity Park he just... couldn't???
There was something just, stopping him. He couldn't leave, like some kind of barrier that prevented from moving even smidge past the line.
He just left it be.
He heard about Tucker being a villain and decided he wanted in. But since he couldn't leave the boundary of Amity Park for whatever reason, he needed Tucker to plant a series of tidbits of knowledge that'll allow people to summon him.
Tucker very obviously agreed.
But they decided to have a bit of fun here. Tucker- who now goes by Daedalus as his villain name- has history with the Ghost Prince, who is the 'hero' to Daedalus' villain.
Daedalus does not like Phantom and constantly tries to neutralize him, which is a far cry from his usual non-lethal tactics. While Phantom, on the other hand, considers Daedalus to be his best friend and closest consort and often ignores said attempts of neutralization or plays it off.
So Tucker left behind bits and pieces of the knowledge to summon the Ghost Prince in random parts of the city, which are discreetly yet highly guarded. Then overtime certain people began to find those bits and pieces and Daedalus, in regard to such an event has notably gotten more panicky and worried.
With each and every sighting he's in he seemed to be searching for something and used the chaos he brought to search for it. To which the heroes have been taking notice of.
They think that he was searching for something to use for his next plan or something.
Then the Justice League got word of a group of cultists looking to summon the Ghost Prince to take over the mortal world, which they obviously couldn't let happen. So then they locate and find the group of cultists (and as usual in these ideas) they fail to stop the summoning in time.
But as the summoning circle was shinning and the room got colder, someone unexpected showed up.
Daedalus. (Imagen he's in the floaty chair thing that Eggman uses constantly)
Who, surprisingly. Is just a 16 year old. (This takes place in the second year of Sam's little isolation thing.)
Who then proceeded to get irritated and screamed at the cultists about how they managed to find the necessary components to summon that he specifically split into pieces to avoid this situation happening!
Then the Ghost Prince pops into existence, who then calmly looked around the room and then into the sky, his indifferent, cold expression faded away into a bright beaming expression and then went:
"Daedalus! My best buddy!"
And then had to dodge a blast from said villain. Then they proceeded to have a battle, quite- no, very lethal on Daedalus' part and not so much on the Ghost Prince's part.
It was... reminiscent of a dog and cat, really.
Until in the midst of said fight Phantom exclaimed his woes about the Ghost responsibilities and then Daedalus just kinda, stopped trying to kill him and then made Danny explain what problem he has and then gave him the solution to said problem and goes back to fighting.
The Justice League feels like they should intervene here, but they also don't know if they should.
Said problem was solved by Daedalus getting hungry and proposing to stop the fight to go and eat at a food place he knows that's very good. Phantom agrees, claiming that he hasn't had human food in ages and then they go and eat and forget about the Justice League.
Who then questioned why the Prince of Ghosts and the villain that a few of them has been fighting are literal children.
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rafesapologist · 2 months
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could you write a JJ x reader
Where sarah wants to include her best friend (reader) on the gold. Reader and jj absolutely hate eachother. reader is sleeping with rafe but soon catches feelings for jj. jj realises he didn’t hate reader but was in love with her the whole time👀 sorry if this is all over the place😂
we can't be friends ─ jj maybank
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summary: jj maybank hates sarah cameron's best friend, at least, he thought he did
warnings: mature themes, swearing, jj being a dick
author's note: thank you for sending in this request! love the idea. i also wrote this with writer's block so forgive me for the delay, if you'd like a part 2 pls let me know
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The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow over the secluded stretch of beach where the Chateau stood, its weathered walls a testament to its history. Inside, JJ and Sarah were deep in conversation, their voices muffled but urgent. You approached cautiously, sensing the tension in the air.
As you neared, JJ's eyes flicked to you, his expression guarded. There was a certain coldness in his gaze, a barrier you couldn't quite penetrate. Sarah turned to him, a pleading look in her eyes.
"Come on, JJ," she urged, her voice soft but determined. "She could be a real help. We need all the hands we can get if we're going to find the gold."
But JJ's response was immediate, his tone clipped. "No way," he stated flatly, shaking his head. "I'm not bringing her along."
Sarah's brow furrowed in confusion. "Why not? She's willing to help. And you know she's capable."
But JJ remained unmoved, his gaze unwavering. "I don't trust her," he admitted, his words cutting through the air like a knife. "And I'm not about to risk the mission just to accommodate her."
You felt a surge of anger rising within you at JJ's words, a flush of embarrassment burning in your cheeks. You had hoped to prove yourself, to show that you were capable of more than he believed. But it seemed that no matter what you did, JJ would always see you as an outsider, as someone unworthy of his trust.
As Sarah continued to plead your case, you couldn't help but feel a sense of resignation wash over you. It seemed that no amount of convincing would change JJ's mind. And as John B joined the conversation, his expression thoughtful but ultimately in agreement with JJ, you knew that your hopes of joining them on their adventure had been dashed.
The tension in the air was palpable as the conversation seemed to reach a standstill. Just when it seemed like JJ's decision was final, Kiara stepped forward, her voice cutting through the silence like a whip cracking.
"Seriously, JJ, get over yourself," Kiara chimed in, her tone laced with exasperation. "We could use more women in the group anyways. It's not like she's asking for a free ride."
Her words hung in the air, echoing in the room as everyone turned to look at her, surprised by her sudden interjection. Even JJ seemed taken aback by Kiara's boldness, his expression shifting from defiance to mild annoyance.
But Kiara wasn't finished. She crossed her arms over her chest, fixing JJ with a pointed stare. "She's got skills, whether you want to admit it or not," she continued, her voice unwavering. "And we need all the help we can get if we're going to pull this off."
Sarah nodded in agreement, her eyes pleading with JJ to reconsider. "She's right, JJ," she added, her voice gentle but firm. "We can't afford to be picky about who joins us. We need all the help we can get."
For a moment, JJ seemed to waver, his gaze flickering between Kiara and Sarah. But then, with a resigned sigh, he relented, his shoulders slumping slightly in defeat.
"Fine," he muttered, his voice begrudging. "But if anything happens, it's on you."
You couldn't help but feel a surge of relief at JJ's reluctant agreement, grateful for Kiara's intervention. As the tension in the room began to dissipate, you realized that despite JJ's initial resistance, you were finally going to be a part of the adventure. And as the group began to make plans for the journey ahead, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you.
The girls exchanged excited glances, their faces lighting up with anticipation at the prospect of you joining their adventure. Sarah grinned encouragingly, while Kiara gave you a supportive nod. Even though JJ's begrudging acceptance hung in the air, their enthusiasm was infectious.
But as you basked in their excitement, JJ couldn't resist interjecting with a snarky comment, his eyes rolling in exasperation.
"Well, isn't this just great," he muttered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "We're letting Rafe's girlfriend tag along now."
His words stung, a bitter reminder of the animosity between him and Rafe, a rivalry that seemed to overshadow everything else. You could feel a flush of indignation rising within you at JJ's remark, but before you could respond, Sarah shot him a warning glance.
"First of all, Rafe is not my boyfriend," you retorted, your voice firm and assertive. "And even if he were, it wouldn't define me or my capabilities."
JJ rolled his eyes at your retort, his skepticism evident despite his attempt to brush it off. There was still a lingering doubt in his expression, a hint of disbelief that lingered like a stubborn shadow.
"Sure, sure," he muttered, his tone still tinged with skepticism. "Whatever you say."
You could sense that JJ wasn't entirely convinced by your words, but you didn't let it deter you. Instead, you focused on the task at hand, determined to prove yourself through actions rather than words.
As the conversation shifted back to the logistics of the journey, you pushed aside JJ's lingering doubts and threw yourself into the planning process with renewed determination. With each contribution you made, you aimed to show JJ and the rest of the group that you were a valuable asset, regardless of any misconceptions they might have had.
And as the discussions continued late into the evening, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction knowing that you had stood up for yourself, even in the face of skepticism. With each step closer to the adventure ahead, you were determined to earn JJ's respect and prove that you belonged among them, no matter what doubts he may harbor.
Taking a deep breath to compose yourself, you pushed JJ's lingering doubt to the back of your mind, focusing instead on the task at hand. With a determined nod, you joined in on the group discussion about their plans for the gold.
As Sarah and Kiara outlined their ideas, you listened intently, eager to contribute and make your mark on the conversation. Drawing from your own knowledge and experiences, you offered suggestions and insights, each one met with nods of approval from the group.
Despite JJ's initial skepticism, you refused to let it dampen your spirits. With each passing moment, you felt a growing sense of confidence, knowing that you were making valuable contributions to the discussion.
As the conversation stretched on into the night, the group's excitement and determination only seemed to grow. Together, you hashed out the finer details of your plan, ironing out potential challenges and devising strategies to overcome them.
By the time the discussion drew to a close, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride in what you had accomplished. Despite JJ's doubts, you had proven yourself as a valuable member of the team, ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead.
As the discussion wound down, you rose from your seat, feeling a sense of finality settle over you. With a determined expression, you turned to your friends, minus JJ, and announced your goodbye.
"Alright, I'm heading out," you said, your voice steady and resolute. "Sarah, I'll meet you back at your house tonight to go over the final details."
Sarah smiled warmly, nodding in agreement. "Sounds good," she replied. "We'll see you then."
But as you turned to leave, JJ couldn't resist interjecting with a scoff, his disbelief still evident in his expression. The sound earned him a sharp death glare from Sarah, who didn't hesitate to voice her displeasure.
"Cut it out, JJ," she admonished, her tone stern. "She's part of the team, whether you like it or not."
Feeling a spark of mischief, you couldn't resist the opportunity to deliver a sly comeback to JJ's scoffing. With a smirk playing at the corners of your lips, you turned to face him, meeting his skeptical gaze head-on.
"Well, JJ," you said, your tone dripping with playful sarcasm, "don't worry, I'll be sure to bring back some gold for you to scoff at too."
The corner of JJ's mouth twitched in response, a hint of begrudging amusement flickering in his eyes despite his best efforts to maintain his facade. Sarah stifled a chuckle, shooting you a knowing look, while Kiara grinned approvingly.
With a satisfied smirk, you turned and made your exit, leaving JJ to ponder your words as you headed out into the night, determined to prove him wrong and show that you were more than capable of holding your own in the adventure to come.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
Back at Tanny Hill, nestled in Rafe's bedroom, you found yourself perched on the edge of the bed, Rafe's head resting comfortably in your lap. The dim glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm ambiance around the room as you launched into a rant about your frustrations with JJ.
"I swear, Rafe," you began, your voice tinged with irritation, "JJ can be such an insufferable know-it-all. He acts like he's the king of the world, and everyone else is just along for the ride."
Rafe listened attentively, nodding in understanding as you vented your frustrations. His hand absentmindedly traced patterns on your leg as you spoke, a comforting gesture that helped to soothe your frayed nerves.
"I get it," Rafe replied sympathetically, his gaze meeting yours with empathy. "He can be a real pain sometimes, but you know how he is."
You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "I know, I know," you muttered, "but that doesn't make it any easier to deal with. Sometimes I just want to shake some sense into him."
Rafe chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Believe me, I've been there," he said, his tone laced with affection. "But hey, at least you have me to vent to, right?"
You couldn't help but smile at Rafe's words, grateful for his unwavering support. Leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling a sense of reassurance wash over you in his presence.
"Yeah," you replied softly, "at least I have you."
As the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, the weight of your frustrations lifted slightly. And as you wrapped your arms around Rafe, feeling the steady rhythm of his breathing against your chest, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for his presence in your life, even in the midst of chaos.
Rafe shifted slightly in your lap, his brow furrowed with curiosity as he gazed up at you.
"So, I gotta ask," he began, his tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of annoyance, "what's with you loving to hang out with Sarah and her Pogue friends so much?"
His question caught you off guard for a moment, but you composed yourself before responding, understanding his frustration regarding his sister.
"Well, Rafe," you replied, meeting his gaze evenly, "there's something special about the bond they share. They're like a family, always there for each other no matter what. It's refreshing to be a part of that."
Rafe's expression softened slightly as he listened to your explanation, but there was still a hint of skepticism lingering in his eyes.
"But why them?" he pressed, his curiosity unabated. "You could hang out with anyone in the Outer Banks. Why them specifically?"
You took a moment to consider your words before answering, wanting to convey the depth of your connection with Sarah and her friends.
"It's not just about hanging out," you explained, your voice earnest. "They make me feel like I belong, like I'm a part of something bigger than myself. And that's something I haven't found anywhere else. I mean, except for JJ."
Rafe nodded slowly, seemingly mulling over your response. There was a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a recognition of the importance of finding a sense of belonging.
Rafe's chuckle turned into a full-fledged laugh, his amusement mirroring your sentiments about JJ. There was a glint of camaraderie in his eyes as he nodded emphatically.
"Oh, trust me, I know," Rafe replied, his laughter subsiding into a smirk. "JJ can be a real pain in the ass sometimes."
You couldn't help but grin at Rafe's candid agreement, feeling a sense of validation in knowing that you weren't alone in your frustrations with JJ.
"Tell me about it," you replied, shaking your head in mock exasperation. "It's like he goes out of his way to be difficult."
Rafe nodded in emphatic agreement, a playful glint in his eye. "Yeah, well, don't worry," he reassured you, "you just gotta keep him in check."
With a shared understanding, you and Rafe settled into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier dissipating in the wake of your shared laughter. With Rafe by your side, you felt confident that you could handle whatever challenges lay ahead, even if it meant dealing with JJ's antics.
As Rafe nestled into you, his breathing steady and even as he drifted off to sleep, you remained awake, your mind buzzing with thoughts of how to prove yourself and prove JJ wrong. With your head against the headboard, you let out a soft sigh, the weight of determination settling over you like a heavy blanket.
You replayed the events of the day in your mind, reflecting on JJ's skepticism and the challenges you faced in gaining his trust. But instead of feeling discouraged, you felt a surge of determination coursing through your veins. You were determined to show JJ and everyone else that you were more than capable of handling whatever challenges came your way.
With each passing moment, you formulated plans and strategies, mapping out the steps you would take to prove yourself. Whether it was through your actions, your skills, or your unwavering determination, you were determined to make JJ look stupid for doubting you and show him that you belonged among them.
You tossed and turned restlessly, the memory of JJ's dismissive demeanor replaying over and over in your mind like a broken record. Each time you closed your eyes, his snide remarks echoed in your head, fueling a growing anger that refused to be quelled.
Cursing him silently in your thoughts, you berated JJ for his narrow-mindedness and his unwillingness to see beyond his own biases. You couldn't understand why he insisted on treating you as an outsider, refusing to acknowledge your potential and the contributions you could make to their group.
With each passing moment, your frustration only grew, simmering beneath the surface like a dormant volcano waiting to erupt. You longed to confront JJ, to demand an explanation for his behavior and to prove him wrong once and for all.
But as the night wore on and the darkness pressed in around you, you realized that confronting JJ wouldn't solve anything. Instead, you resolved to channel your anger into determination, using it as fuel to drive you forward and prove him wrong through your actions.
And as the first light of dawn began to filter through the window, you finally drifted off into a restless sleep, the weight of your annoyance with JJ still heavy on your mind but tempered by a newfound resolve to prove him wrong.
。゚•┈୨♡୧┈• 。゚
As the morning light filtered through the curtains, you stirred from your restless sleep, your mind still buzzing with determination from the events of the previous night. Glancing down, you noticed Rafe still sound asleep, his breathing steady and peaceful.
Not wanting to disturb him, you quietly slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. With a sense of urgency gnawing at you, you hastily gathered your belongings, grabbing your backpack from the floor and slinging it over your shoulder.
As you made your way downstairs, you moved quickly but quietly, mindful of the early hour. The house was still and quiet, the only sound the soft creaking of the floorboards beneath your feet.
With each step, your determination grew stronger, fueled by the knowledge that you were meant to meet up with your friends early that morning. You couldn't afford to be late, not when so much was at stake.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, you paused for a moment, glancing back up at the bedroom door where Rafe slept peacefully. With a pang of guilt tugging at your heart, you silently wished him a peaceful rest before turning and slipping out the front door.
As you stepped out into the crisp morning air, a surge of anticipation coursed through you. With each passing moment, you drew closer to meeting up with your friends and embarking on the adventure that lay ahead. And as you set off down the deserted street, the weight of determination heavy on your shoulders, you couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement building within you. Today was the day you would prove yourself and show JJ just what you were capable of.
As you pedaled your bike towards the Chateau, the cool morning air whipped against your skin, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. Your mind raced with a mix of excitement and anxiety, the events of the previous night still fresh in your memory.
You couldn't shake the frustration and annoyance JJ's doubts had stirred within you. It irked you how much he was getting under your skin, his skepticism serving as a constant reminder of the uphill battle you faced in proving yourself.
But as you rode, you made a conscious effort to push aside those negative thoughts, focusing instead on the task at hand. You knew you couldn't afford to let JJ's doubts derail you, not when so much was riding on the success of your mission.
With each turn of the pedal, you forced yourself to stay focused, channeling your energy into the anticipation of what lay ahead. The Chateau loomed in the distance, a silent beacon calling you forward with promises of adventure and opportunity.
As you neared your destination, a sense of determination settled over you like a comforting blanket. You knew that despite JJ's doubts, you had the skills and the determination to come out successful. Today would be the day you silenced his skepticism once and for all. With renewed resolve, you pedaled harder, pushing yourself to reach the Chateau and meet up with your friends. As you arrived at your destination, the rush of anticipation and determination fueled your every step, driving you forward towards the adventure that awaited.
You parked your bike and hopped off, the excitement of the moment urging you forward. But as you made your way towards the front porch of the Chateau, a familiar, nagging voice pierced the air from behind, causing you to freeze in your tracks.
"Well, well, well, look who actually showed up."
You turned around slowly, your heart sinking as you spotted JJ leaning against his bike, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. His tone was taunting, dripping with sarcasm and disbelief.
You felt a surge of frustration rise within you at JJ's mocking words, but you refused to let it show. Squaring your shoulders, you met his gaze head-on, your expression determined despite the doubt gnawing at your confidence.
Ignoring the urge to snap back at him, you simply offered a tight-lipped smile, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing you rattled.
"Yep, here I am," you replied evenly, your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you. "Ready to get down to business."
"Surprised you're capable of not being up your boyfriend's ass for a day," JJ's remark cut through the air like a knife, his sarcasm dripping with disdain. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks as his words struck a nerve, but you refused to let him see how much they affected you.
With a tight-lipped smile, you turned to face JJ once again, your voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface.
"Surprise, surprise," you retorted, your tone laced with sarcasm of your own. "plus, I knew you'd need my help at some point. And like I told you before, he's not my boyfriend, you dick." You could see the flicker of annoyance in JJ's eyes as he absorbed your words, his facade slipping for just a moment before he regained his composure.
"Whatever," he muttered dismissively, rolling his eyes in a display of feigned indifference.
Refusing to engage any further, you turned away from JJ and continued towards the front porch, determined to focus on the task at hand. You knew that proving yourself to JJ would be an uphill battle, but you were more determined than ever to show him just what you were capable of.
As you entered the Chateau, a wave of relief washed over you, replacing the tension of your encounter with JJ with a sense of warmth and familiarity. Your friends greeted you with smiles and expressions of joy, their enthusiasm contagious.
"Hey!" John B exclaimed, his voice filled with both concern and excitement as he approached you. "Are you ready for this?"
You returned his smile, feeling a surge of determination welling up inside you. Despite the lingering doubts and skepticism from certain members of the group, you knew deep down that you were ready for whatever challenges lay ahead.
"Absolutely," you replied, your voice steady and resolute. "I'm ready to give it everything I've got."
John B nodded approvingly, his expression filled with confidence. "That's what I like to hear," he said, clapping you on the shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. "We're all in this together."
Sarah's voice rang out with unwavering confidence, cutting through the chatter of excitement like a beacon of support.
"I knew she wouldn't let us down," she declared, her tone filled with certainty and pride.
Her words ignited a spark within you, filling you with a sense of determination and purpose. With Sarah's faith in your abilities, you felt a surge of confidence welling up inside you, driving away any lingering doubts or uncertainties.
"Thanks, Sarah," you replied, a genuine smile spreading across your face. "I wouldn't ever."
Her smile mirrored your own as she nodded in agreement, her eyes shining with unwavering belief in your capabilities. With Sarah's support bolstering your resolve, you felt ready to take on whatever challenges lay ahead, confident in your ability to rise to the occasion. As the group gathered around to finalize their plans, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for Sarah's unwavering confidence in you. With her belief in your abilities and the support of your friends by your side, you knew that together, you were capable of achieving anything.
The moment of joy was abruptly shattered as JJ's voice echoed through the living room, cutting through the camaraderie with his usual snarky demeanor.
"Well, let's hope she's as good as you all seem to think she is," he remarked, his tone dripping with skepticism.
His words hung in the air like a dark cloud, casting a shadow over the room and dampening the spirits of the group. You could feel the weight of JJ's doubt pressing down on you, threatening to undermine the confidence you had worked so hard to build.
Rolling your eyes at JJ's predictable cynicism, you turned to face him, a defiant glint in your eye as you prepared to counter his snarky remark.
"Wow, JJ, didn't realize you were the designated pessimist of the group," you quipped, your tone laced with sarcasm. "But hey, if you're looking for someone to bring down the mood, I guess you're doing a great job."
A ripple of laughter spread through the room at your comeback, breaking the tension that had settled over the group in JJ's wake. Even Sarah shot you a supportive grin, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
JJ's expression darkened momentarily, his jaw tightening with irritation, but you held his gaze steadily, refusing to back down. Despite his best efforts to undermine you, you remained steadfast in your resolve to prove him wrong. With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turned away from JJ, returning your focus to the task at hand. Today was not about letting his negativity get to you – it was about showing everyone, including JJ, what you were truly capable of.
Taking a deep breath to steel yourself, you turned to face the group, your expression resolute as you awaited their instructions.
John B, the natural leader of the group, stepped forward, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering confidence. "We need you to keep an eye out," he said, his voice steady and sure. "We'll need someone watching our backs while we're inside."
Kiara nodded in agreement, her eyes flashing with determination. "Yeah, and we'll need someone quick and agile," she added. "In case things get hairy."
Pope chimed in next, his tone thoughtful. "Maybe you could scout ahead," he suggested. "See if there are any potential obstacles or threats we need to be aware of."
Sarah, ever the strategist, nodded approvingly. "That sounds like a plan," she said, her voice filled with confidence. "We'll need someone reliable in that role, and I know we can count on you."
As each of your friends offered their suggestions and assigned tasks, you listened intently, absorbing every detail and mentally preparing yourself for the role ahead. With a nod of determination, you accepted your role in the plan, ready to do whatever it took to ensure the success of the mission.
With his arms crossed and a dry tone, JJ interjected, "So, are we all set to go?"
His question was laced with skepticism, his doubt hanging heavy in the air. Despite the excitement and determination of the group, JJ's cynicism threatened to cast a shadow over the impending adventure.
But instead of letting his negativity dampen the mood, Sarah shot JJ a pointed look, her eyes flashing with determination. "Yes, JJ," she replied firmly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "We're ready."
There was a collective nod of agreement from the rest of the group, each member echoing Sarah's sentiment with unwavering confidence. Even though JJ's negativity lingered, the group remained resolute in their determination to press forward.
With a resigned sigh, JJ uncrossed his arms and nodded, a hint of begrudging acceptance in his expression. "Fine," he muttered, his tone begrudging but resigned. "Let's get this show on the road."
As you and the Pogues packed up your gear for the mission, the tension between you and JJ hung heavy in the air, a palpable reminder of the skepticism and doubt that still lingered between you.
With John B at the wheel and Sarah in the passenger seat as usual, the rest of you piled into the back of the van. You, Kiara, Pope, and JJ found yourselves seated in close quarters, the space feeling smaller and more confined with the weight of the unspoken tension.
Despite the excitement of the impending adventure, the atmosphere in the van was thick with unease, the silence punctuated only by the low hum of the engine as the van rolled along the road.
You tried to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside the lingering animosity between you and JJ, but the tension refused to dissipate. Every movement, every shift in posture felt like a silent battle for dominance, the unspoken conflict simmering just beneath the surface.
Pope's voice broke the heavy silence like a ray of sunlight piercing through storm clouds. "So guys," he began, his voice clear but cautious, "maybe we should go over the plan one more time."
His suggestion hung in the air, a lifeline in the midst of the tense atmosphere. You could feel the tension easing slightly as Pope's words redirected the group's focus from the underlying friction between you and JJ.
"Yeah, Pope?" Kiara responded, her voice echoing with gratitude for the opportunity to shift the conversation away from the lingering tension.
With a nod of agreement, you added, "That sounds like a good idea. A quick refresher won't hurt."
Pope's shoulders relaxed visibly as he cleared his throat once more, diving into the details of the plan with renewed determination. As he spoke, his voice steady and sure, the tension in the van gradually began to dissipate, replaced by a shared sense of purpose and focus.
With each word, Pope's explanation served as a reminder of the mission ahead and the importance of working together as a team. Despite the underlying tension, you knew that you and the Pogues were united in your determination to succeed.
JJ's dry laughter reverberated through the van, his head tilted back against the wall as he made his snarky remark. "Good idea, Pope," he quipped, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "We all know Y/N needs it explained to her a few times."
His words stung like a slap to the face, the underlying implication clear: JJ didn't believe in your abilities, and he wasn't afraid to make that known. You could feel the tension in the van ratcheting up another notch as his comment hung in the air, the weight of his comments pressing down on you like a lead weight. You could feel the eyes of the rest of the group on you, waiting to see how you would react to JJ's barb.
JJ's look pierced through the air like a dagger, his expression a mixture of disdain and mockery. With a sneer, he couldn't resist making another cutting remark aimed at you.
"Well, what do you expect?" he quipped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "We all know Y/N's just a dumb kook."
His words hit you like a blow to the gut, the venom in his tone cutting deep. You could feel the eyes of the others in the van flickering between you and JJ, the tension thickening with each passing moment.
But you refused to let JJ's insults get the best of you. Steeling yourself against the hurt and frustration bubbling within, you met his gaze with a defiant stare, refusing to let him see how much his words affected you.
"Real mature, JJ," you shot back, your voice laced with equal parts anger and determination. "But I'd rather be a 'dumb kook' than an asshole." Your retort hung in the air, a challenge to JJ's arrogance and superiority.
Kiara's intervention was a welcome relief from the escalating tension in the van. "Guys, seriously," she interjected, her voice firm but calm. "Nothing is gonna get done if you two keep arguing all the time."
Her words served as a sobering reminder of the task at hand, grounding the group in the reality of the situation. You felt a pang of guilt for allowing JJ's taunts to escalate the conflict, but you knew that Kiara was right. This wasn't the time for petty squabbles.
Before you could respond, JJ's voice cut in, his tone surprisingly subdued. "I'm just telling the truth," he muttered quietly, his words tinged with a hint of defensiveness.
Turning to JJ, frustration seeping into your voice, you couldn't help but let out a sigh of exasperation. "Do you even know how to shut up?" you asked, your tone laced with irritation.
The words slipped out before you could stop them, borne out of the frustration of JJ's constant need to belittle and undermine you. You could feel the weight of everyone's eyes on you, waiting to see how JJ would respond.
For a moment, there was silence in the van, the tension palpable as JJ considered his response. Finally, he met your gaze with a cool, collected expression, his tone even as he replied, "Do you?"
His retort hit you like a slap in the face, the sting of it leaving you momentarily speechless. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, the frustration boiling beneath the surface.
But before you could respond, Kiara jumped in, her voice cutting through the tension. "Alright, enough," she declared, her tone firm but calm. "We've got bigger things to worry about right now."
Her words served as a much-needed reminder, grounding the group in the reality of the situation. With a resigned sigh, you forced yourself to let go of the argument, turning your attention back to the task at hand.
Just as the tension in the van threatened to reach its boiling point, John B's voice cut through the air like a lifeline, breaking the cycle of conflict. "Hey, everyone," he called out, his tone firm but reassuring. "We're here."
His words were a welcome interruption, drawing everyone's attention away from the argument and back to the task at hand. With a sense of relief, you turned to look out the window, realizing that the van had come to a halt at your destination.
As the group began to stir, gathering their gear and preparing to disembark, the lingering tension in the van began to dissipate, replaced by a renewed sense of focus and determination. Despite the disagreements and arguments that had threatened to derail your mission, you knew that you were all united in your shared goal.
As the group flooded out of the van, you couldn't help but notice the way the boys linked up, falling into their familiar roles with ease. But your attention was drawn to JJ, who seemed to move with a purpose that made your stomach churn with unease.
Your eyes widened as you watched him discreetly slip a handgun into his pocket, hiding it under his shirt as if it were just another accessory. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, a lump forming in your throat as you struggled to comprehend the implications of what you had just witnessed.
A sense of unease settled over you like a heavy blanket as you followed the group, the weight of JJ's actions lingering in the air. Despite the adrenaline pumping through your veins, you couldn't shake the feeling of dread that washed over you, a nagging voice in the back of your mind warning you of the danger that lay ahead.
Kiara's sudden touch on your shoulders startled you, pulling you out of your uneasy thoughts. You turned to face her, meeting her determined gaze with a sense of gratitude for her grounding presence.
"Y/N, do you know exactly what you're supposed to do?" she asked, her voice firm but reassuring.
Her question cut through the fog of your unease, forcing you to focus on the task at hand. With a nod, you replied, "Yes, Kiara. I'm clear on my role."
Her hands remained on your shoulders, her grip steady as she held your gaze. "Good," she said, a hint of pride in her voice. "We're counting on you." With Kiara's support bolstering your confidence, you squared your shoulders and took a deep breath, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead.
As the group dispersed into the house, each member moving with purpose towards their assigned tasks, you felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through your veins. With a sense of determination, you sprang into action, wasting no time in fulfilling the role that had been assigned to you.
Outside the house, you took up your position, scanning the surroundings with keen eyes. The cool breeze tousled your hair as you stood watch, your senses on high alert for any signs of trouble.
With practiced ease, you moved silently, keeping to the shadows as you patrolled the perimeter. Every rustle of leaves, every creak of a branch, sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins, but you remained calm and composed, your focus unwavering.
As you surveyed the area, your mind raced with possibilities, every scenario playing out in your head as you prepared for any eventuality. Despite the tension that hung in the air, you refused to let it cloud your judgment, trusting in your instincts to guide you through the darkness.
With each passing moment, you felt a sense of purpose growing within you, fueled by the knowledge that you were playing a crucial role in the mission. Despite the challenges that lay ahead, you were determined to see it through to the end, whatever it took. And as you stood watch, the weight of responsibility settling on your shoulders, you knew that you were ready.
As the moments passed, the stillness of the night enveloped you, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves in the breeze. Despite the apparent calm, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of your consciousness, a nagging feeling that something was amiss.
You shifted restlessly on your feet, the weight of anticipation settling heavily on your shoulders. Every passing second felt like an eternity, each heartbeat echoing loudly in your ears as you waited for the inevitable. Deep down, you knew that this mission wouldn't be easy. The stakes were high, and the competition fierce. Everyone's goal was the same: to find the gold, no matter the cost.
As you stood watch, the tension in the air thickened, a palpable reminder of the dangers that lurked in the darkness. Every shadow seemed to hold a hidden threat, every rustle in the bushes a potential danger.
Every rustle of the bushes or trees sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins, your senses on high alert for any sign of danger. Each sound, no matter how innocent, seemed to magnify in the darkness, setting your heart racing with alarm.
You paced back and forth outside the house, the rhythm of your steps matching the frantic beat of your heart. Despite your best efforts to remain calm, the tension in the air was palpable, a constant reminder of the risks that lay ahead.
With each passing moment, you found yourself growing increasingly restless, the weight of anticipation pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. Every second felt like an eternity as you searched for ways to pass the time until your friends emerged from the house.
You tried to focus your thoughts on anything other than the looming mission, but the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on your mind. The stakes were high, and the thought of what could go wrong filled you with a sense of dread.
But despite the rising tide of anxiety threatening to overwhelm you, you refused to let it consume you. With a determined effort, you pushed aside your fears and focused on the task at hand, determined to remain vigilant until your friends returned.
The sound of a car pulling up outside snapped you out of your reverie, your attention immediately drawn to the source of the noise. Your senses went on high alert as you strained to listen, the murmur of voices in the distance sending a shiver down your spine.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you realized that it could only mean one thing: the men who were looking for your friends had arrived. Panic surged through you like a tidal wave as you processed the gravity of the situation.
"Shit, shit, shit," you whispered to yourself, the words escaping your lips in a breathless rush. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one more terrifying than the last. The safety of your friends hung in the balance, and you knew that you had to act fast.
As the male voices drew nearer, your heart pounded in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins as you frantically scanned your surroundings for a place to hide. With every passing moment, the sense of urgency grew more pressing, driving you to act quickly before it was too late.
Spotting a corner of the house nearby, you made a split-second decision and darted towards it, your footsteps quick and silent as you sought refuge from the approaching danger. With a racing mind and trembling hands, you pressed yourself against the rough exterior of the building, willing yourself to blend into the shadows and remain unseen.
The voices grew louder as the group approached, their conversation a distant murmur that sent shivers down your spine. You held your breath, your heart hammering in your chest as you listened intently, straining to make out any discernible words.
As the men drew closer, your muscles tensed with anticipation, every nerve on edge as you braced yourself for the inevitable confrontation. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as you waited, the seconds stretching out into an eternity as you prepared to face whatever came your way.
In the brightness of day, your heart pounded in your chest as you peeked around the corner, spotting the men on the front porch with the sunlight casting long shadows around them. Their presence sent a chill down your spine, knowing they posed a threat to your friends inside the house.
Your mind raced, desperate for a plan to thwart their entry. With each passing second, the urgency of the situation intensified, driving you to act swiftly.
In a surge of impulse, your eyes landed on a large log nearby. Without a second thought, you seized it, your fingers wrapping around the rough bark as you steadied your grip.
With determination fueling your movements, you approached the men from behind, their backs turned to you as they lingered on the porch. The weight of the log in your hands was a tangible reminder of the stakes at hand. As you drew nearer, your heart thundered in your chest, drowning out all other sound. The sun beat down on your back, but you remained focused, your gaze locked on the men ahead.
As the man reached for the door handle, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, propelling you into action. With a swift and decisive motion, you swung the log with all your strength, connecting with a resounding thud as it collided with the man's back, sending him crashing to the ground.
For a moment, silence enveloped the scene, broken only by the dull thud of the man hitting the ground. Your heart raced in your chest as you stood frozen in shock, the weight of what you had just done settling heavily upon you.
But as the rest of the men turned to face you, their expressions a mix of bewilderment and rage, you knew that there was no time to dwell on your actions. With wide eyes and trembling hands, you dropped the makeshift weapon and turned on your heel, sprinting towards the safety of the back of the house.
Adrenaline fueled your every movement as you raced away from the scene, the sound of your footsteps echoing in your ears. Fear gripped you like a vice, but you pushed past it, focusing only on putting as much distance between yourself and the men as possible.
With every stride, you felt the weight of the danger behind you, urging you onward. The adrenaline-fueled rush of escape pulsed through your veins, driving you forward with a single-minded determination.
Panic surged through you as a strong hand closed around your arm, yanking you back with a force that made you wince. With a gasp, you stumbled backward, your heart pounding in your chest as you struggled against the firm grip.
Instinctively, you tried to break free, but the hold on your arm was relentless, the pressure enough to send a sharp jolt of pain shooting through you. Fear clenched at your heart as you realized you were trapped, your mind racing with a million possibilities of what could happen next.
Desperation flooded through you as you fought against your captor, your adrenaline-fueled instincts driving you to escape. With every ounce of strength you could muster, you twisted and turned, struggling to break free from their grasp.
But no matter how hard you fought, the grip on your arm remained unyielding, the hold tightening with each passing moment. Your breath came in ragged gasps as you braced yourself for whatever was to come, the sense of helplessness weighing heavily upon you.
As your captor pulled you closer, their intentions unknown, a sense of dread settled over you like a suffocating blanket. With every fiber of your being, you prayed for a way out of this nightmare, knowing that your fate hung in the balance.
"Let go of me!" you screamed, your voice filled with desperation as you flailed your legs, struggling against the iron grip that held you captive. But your pleas fell on deaf ears as the man hoisted you effortlessly over his shoulder, his movements confident and determined.
Panic surged through you as you realized the gravity of your situation. With each step he took, your heart pounded in your chest, the fear of the unknown looming large in your mind.
As he carried you back towards the front yard, your mind raced with a million thoughts, each one more terrifying than the last. With every passing moment, the sense of helplessness threatened to overwhelm you, but you refused to give in to despair.
Summoning every ounce of strength you had left, you continued to struggle against your captor, determined to break free from his grasp. But no matter how hard you fought, his hold remained unyielding, his grip like a vice around your body. As you were carried further and further away from safety, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. With each passing moment, the reality of your predicament became clearer, and you knew that escaping would be no easy feat.
"You thought you were gonna get away from us, you little bitch?" the man's voice sneered, dripping with malice as he continued to carry you towards the front yard.
Your frustration reached its peak, and you let out a cry for your friends, hoping against hope that they might hear you and come to your rescue. But your desperate plea only seemed to further enrage the man.
With a growl of anger, he dropped you unceremoniously from his shoulder, and you crashed to the ground with a painful thud. Before you could gather your bearings, he was upon you, pushing you roughly against the brick siding of the house.
"You think you're tough, huh?" he spat, his face twisted in a mask of fury as he pressed his body against yours, pinning you with an iron grip. "Well, let me tell you something, sweetheart. You're nothing but a helpless little girl, and you're gonna regret ever crossing us." His words cut through you like a knife, each syllable laden with venom and malice. Despite the fear that threatened to overwhelm you, you refused to back down, meeting his gaze with a defiant glare.
Your eyes widened in alarm as the man's hand darted to his belt, pulling out a gleaming knife that glinted ominously in the sunlight. Your heart leaped into your throat as he pressed the blade against your skin, the cold metal sending a shiver down your spine.
With the razor-sharp edge of the knife dangerously close to your throat, a sense of dread washed over you like a tidal wave. Fear clenched at your heart as you realized the gravity of the situation, the realization sinking in that your life hung in the balance.
The man's face twisted into a cruel smirk as he held the knife to your throat, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You wanna try anything else, sweetheart?" he taunted, his voice laced with menace.
Every instinct screamed at you to fight back, to do whatever it took to escape the man's grasp. But as you stared into his eyes, you knew that any wrong move could spell disaster.
Tears welled up in your eyes as you pleaded with the man, your voice trembling with fear and desperation. "Please... just let me go," you begged, your words barely a whisper as you fought to keep your composure.
A single tear slipped from your eye, tracing a path down your cheek as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to bear the sight of the glinting knife so close to your throat. Every fiber of your being screamed for escape, for release from the terror that gripped you in its icy grasp.
But despite your pleas, the man's grip remained firm, his hold unyielding as he continued to press the blade against your skin. The metallic tang of blood filled your nostrils, a stark reminder of the danger that lurked just inches away.
With every ounce of strength you had left, you forced yourself to remain calm, to suppress the rising tide of panic that threatened to overwhelm you. Though your heart hammered in your chest and your breath came in ragged gasps, you refused to give in to despair.
As the man drew closer, his hot breath ghosting over your ear, he whispered menacingly, "You aren't going anywhere, sweetheart. You're mine now."
Your heart sank as his words sent a shiver down your spine, the grip of fear tightening around you like a vice. But before he could finish his sentence, his voice was abruptly cut off by a sudden impact from behind him.
With a startled cry, he stumbled forward, his hold on you loosening as he struggled to maintain his balance. You watched in astonishment as he crashed to the ground, the knife clattering from his hand as he fell.
Before you could fully comprehend what had happened, you heard the sound of footsteps approaching rapidly from behind. Turning around, you saw a familiar face standing over the fallen assailant, their expression fierce with determination.
"Get away from her!" JJ growled, his voice filled with righteous anger as they glared down at the man who had threatened you.
You watched in astonishment as JJ approached the fallen assailant, his expression steely and resolute. With a determined stride, he knelt down beside the man, his movements deliberate and purposeful.
With a menacing glint in his eyes, JJ pointed his gun directly at the man's face, the cold metal pressing against his skin. His voice was low and dangerous as he spoke, each word dripping with a lethal promise.
"If you ever lay a hand on her again," JJ growled, his tone icy with menace, "you're dead. Do you understand me?"
The man's eyes widened in fear as he stared up at JJ, the full weight of his threat sinking in. With a trembling nod, he muttered a barely audible agreement, his voice trembling with fear. Satisfied that his message had been received, JJ stood up, his grip on the gun unwavering as he turned to face you. There was a fierce protectiveness in his gaze as he met your eyes.
You felt a flicker of surprise at the unfamiliar look of concern etched on JJ's face as he turned to you. His usual demeanor of bravado and aloofness seemed to soften, replaced by a genuine worry that took you off guard.
"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with a sincerity that you hadn't expected.
The concern in his eyes was unmistakable, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. It was rare to see JJ drop his tough exterior and show vulnerability, and yet here he was, genuinely worried about your well-being.
You nodded slowly, unable to hide the gratitude in your eyes as you met his gaze. "I'm okay," you reassured him, your voice barely above a whisper. There was a brief moment of silence between you, the weight of everything that had just transpired hanging heavy in the air. But despite the lingering tension, there was also a sense of solidarity, a silent understanding that you were all in this together at the end of the day.
JJ's concern lingered in his gaze for a moment longer before he nodded, his focus shifting to the urgency of the situation at hand.
"C'mon, we need to go," he said firmly, his voice cutting through the tension as he took charge of the situation.
Without waiting for a response, JJ reached out and grabbed your hand, his touch firm and reassuring as he pulled you along with him. With a sense of urgency, he led you in a sprint towards the van, his grip never faltering as he navigated through the chaos.
As you ran beside him, a surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, driving you forward with a burst of energy. Despite the danger that still lurked nearby, you felt a sense of safety in JJ's presence, knowing that he would do whatever it took to protect you.
With every step, you drew closer to the safety of the van, the sound of your pounding footsteps echoing in your ears. And as you reached the vehicle, you felt a wave of relief wash over you, knowing that you were one step closer to escaping the danger that had threatened you.
With a final burst of speed, you leaped into the van beside JJ, the door slamming shut behind you as the engine roared to life. And as the van peeled away from the scene, leaving the chaos behind, you couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude towards JJ for his protection.
"Holy shit," Kiara exclaimed, her voice breathless with adrenaline as she glanced around at the group.
"That was terrifying," Pope added, his voice tinged with shock as he spoke, his wide eyes betraying the fear that still lingered within him.
His words echoed the sentiments of the entire group, each of you grappling with the intensity of the situation you had just faced. The reality of the danger you had narrowly escaped weighed heavily on your minds, leaving you all shaken but grateful to be alive.
As the van continued on its journey, the tension in the air was palpable, the silence broken only by the sound of your racing hearts. Each of you was lost in your own thoughts, trying to make sense of the chaos that had unfolded.
You threw your head back against the wall of the van, a heavy sigh escaping your lips as you tried to catch your breath. Despite the rush of adrenaline still coursing through your veins, exhaustion weighed heavily on you as you struggled to process the events of the day.
"I hope you at least found the gold," you muttered breathlessly, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them.
Sarah turned around in the passenger seat, a triumphant smile gracing her features as she reached into the bag she held beside her. With a gleam in her eyes, she pulled out a shiny object, holding it up for all to see.
The gold.
For a moment, the van fell silent as each of you stared in awe at the treasure Sarah had uncovered. The realization of what you had risked everything for, the culmination of your daring adventure, washed over you like a tidal wave.
A chorus of gasps and exclamations filled the air as you reached out to touch the gleaming metal, the weight of it in your hands a tangible reminder of the journey you had been on. It was a moment of pure triumph, a testament to your resilience and determination in the face of adversity. As you gazed at the gold, a sense of awe and wonder filled your heart. It was more than just a valuable prize; it was a symbol of everything you had overcome, a testament to the strength of your friendship and the power of your collective resolve.
"Well, you fought like hell," JJ chuckled, a rare hint of warmth in his voice as he glanced over at you.
His words were unexpected, and for a moment, you were taken aback by the sincerity in his tone. Despite his usual tough exterior, JJ's words were a genuine acknowledgment of your bravery and resilience in the face of danger.
A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met JJ's gaze, a silent understanding passing between you. In that moment, you knew that despite your differences, you shared a bond forged through adversity, a mutual respect for each other's strengths and weaknesses.
"Thanks, JJ," you replied, the gratitude evident in your voice as you returned his smile. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes, a reminder that there was a heart somewhere in JJ Maybank.
Kiara and Pope exchanged confused glances at each other, their brows furrowing in surprise at the unexpected interaction between you and JJ. After all, they were well aware of the tension that had always existed between the two of you, and seeing such a moment of camaraderie was certainly out of the ordinary.
However, recognizing that there were more pressing matters at hand—like celebrating the successful retrieval of the gold—they quickly brushed off their confusion and joined in the jubilant atmosphere that filled the van. With smiles on their faces and laughter in their voices, Kiara and Pope turned their attention back to the group, eager to bask in the shared sense of victory and accomplishment. After all, there would be plenty of time to ponder the nuances of your and JJ's relationship later.
"I say we celebrate tonight, my friends," JJ smirked, his voice filled with a sense of triumph as he reached for the cooler in the back of the van.
With a confident flourish, he cracked open a cold beer, the sound of the tab popping echoing through the vehicle. The sight of the chilled beverages brought a collective sense of anticipation to the group, the promise of a well-deserved celebration sparking excitement in the air.
As JJ passed around the drinks, a sense of camaraderie and camaraderie filled the van, the tension of the day slowly giving way to a shared sense of joy and relief. With each sip, the weight of the world seemed to lift from your shoulders, replaced by a feeling of contentment and satisfaction.
Oddly, you couldn't help but find yourself drawn to JJ as he took a swig of his beer, his laughter and banter with Pope filling the van with a sense of camaraderie and warmth. Despite the tension that had always existed between the two of you, in this moment, all of that seemed to fade away, replaced by a shared sense of victory and celebration.
As you watched JJ, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, a feeling of warmth spreading through you as you observed the pure joy that seemed to exude from him. There was something infectious about his laughter, something that made you feel lighter and happier just being in his presence.
For a moment, you allowed yourself to simply bask in the glow of the moment, soaking in the shared sense of triumph and camaraderie that filled the van. It was a rare moment of peace and contentment, a fleeting glimpse of the bond that connected you and your friends in a way that nothing else could. And as you watched JJ laugh and joke with Pope, a sense of gratitude washed over you. Despite your differences, despite the challenges you had faced, you knew that in the end, you were all in this together.
Eventually, the van rolled to a stop back at the chateau, and with eager anticipation, you and your friends spilled out onto the driveway, shouting with joy and excitement. The adrenaline from the day's events still coursed through your veins, fueling the jubilant atmosphere that surrounded you all.
Following the group, you made your way to the backyard of the chateau, where a jacuzzi awaited. As you watched, JJ wasted no time in stripping off his shirt and kicking off his shoes, revealing his toned physique as he bounded towards the water, his laughter ringing out into the night.
With a sense of freedom and abandon, he leaped into the jacuzzi, his splash sending droplets of water flying into the air. The other boys followed suit, joining him in the bubbling warmth of the water as they laughed and joked together, the stresses of the day melting away with each passing moment.
Your breath hitched as you watched JJ emerge from underneath the water, his hair slicked back and his toned abs glistening with droplets of water. There was something undeniably captivating about the way the moonlight danced across his damp skin, casting him in a soft, ethereal glow.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you found yourself mesmerized by the sight before you. There was an undeniable magnetism to JJ, a raw intensity that drew you in and left you feeling breathless in his presence.
As he flashed you a playful grin, a shiver ran down your spine, sending a rush of heat coursing through your veins. There was no denying the sudden surge of attraction that pulsed between you, the air thick with unspoken tension as you locked eyes with him.
In that moment, you were acutely aware of the electricity that crackled in the air, the unspoken connection that simmered just beneath the surface. It was a fleeting moment, a silent acknowledgment of something unspoken and yet deeply felt.
Shaking off your intrusive thoughts, you made a conscious decision to join in on the fun. With a sense of determination, you stripped off your shirt, revealing just your bra underneath, and with a playful grin, you hopped into the jacuzzi.
The warm water enveloped you as you submerged yourself, the soothing embrace of the bubbles washing away any lingering tension. As you resurfaced, you were greeted with cheers and applause from the boys, their laughter filling the air as they welcomed you into their midst.
The atmosphere was light and carefree, the worries of the day fading into the background as you laughed and joked with your friends. In this moment, surrounded by laughter and friendship, you felt alive, free to be yourself without reservation.
As you lounged in the jacuzzi, the warmth of the water seeping into your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. It was moments like these, surrounded by the people you cared about most, that made life worth living.
A hint of shyness flushed over your cheeks as you settled against the side of the jacuzzi, allowing the warm water to envelop you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could feel JJ's gaze on you, and despite your best efforts to ignore it, a tingle of anticipation danced along your skin.
As you relaxed into the water, you couldn't help but steal a glance in JJ's direction, finding him watching you with an intensity that sent a flutter of butterflies through your stomach. There was something undeniably magnetic about the way his eyes seemed to linger on you, a silent invitation that left you feeling both exhilarated and apprehensive.
For a moment, you held his gaze, the unspoken tension between you palpable in the air. It was as if the world around you faded away, leaving only the two of you locked in a silent exchange of longing and desire.
But just as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, and JJ turned his attention back to the group, a playful grin on his lips as he joined in on the laughter and conversation. And as you watched him, a sense of both disappointment and relief washed over you, the intensity of the moment leaving you breathless and uncertain.
You shook your head, dismissing the subtle interaction with JJ, downplaying whatever it might've meant. It was easy to get caught up in the moment, to read too much into fleeting glances and shared smiles. But deep down, you knew better than to read too much into it.
With a self-assured nod, you pushed aside any lingering thoughts and focused instead on the present, allowing yourself to fully immerse in the warmth of the jacuzzi and the laughter of your friends. After all, there was no sense in dwelling on something that may or may not have meant anything.
As the night wore on and the hours passed, you couldn't help but notice that it was getting late. However, your friends seemed too caught up in the revelry to pay much attention to the time. Laughter echoed through the air, and the sound of clinking bottles filled the night.
It was then that you felt your phone buzz with a notification. Pulling it out, you saw a text from Rafe, asking what time you were planning to come over. The reminder of your plans with him caused you to sit up straight, suddenly feeling the weight of the hour.
With a sense of urgency, you dried yourself off, the warmth of the jacuzzi lingering on your skin as you hastily threw on your denim shorts and tank top. Standing up, you announced to your friends that you were heading out.
"C'mon, Y/N, just ditch Rafe for one night," JJ spoke up, his gaze locking directly onto yours as he made his plea. The intensity of his stare sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. There was something in JJ's eyes, a raw emotion that you couldn't quite place, and it left you feeling unsettled and unsure.
For a moment, you found yourself at a loss for words, the weight of JJ's gaze bearing down on you. You could feel the conflicting emotions swirling inside you, torn between the desire to stay with your friends and the obligation to honor your plans with Rafe.
But as you met JJ's unwavering gaze, a sense of resolve washed over you. With a firm shake of your head, you mustered up the courage to speak.
"I appreciate the offer, JJ, but I made plans with Rafe," you replied, your voice steady despite the nerves that threatened to betray you. "I can't just bail on him."
There was a hint of disappointment in JJ's eyes as he nodded in understanding, his gaze never leaving yours.
"Right, I forgot you were a kook," JJ quipped, his tone laced with a hint of sarcasm as he shot you a sideways glance. His words stung, a reminder of the underlying tension that had always existed between you.
Disappointment drew over your face, your eyebrows furrowing as you looked at JJ with a hint of sadness in your eyes. "Really, JJ? Can't you just let it go for once?" you said, your voice tinged with frustration and hurt.
Before he could speak up to apologize, you quickly interjected, saying you were going to grab your things. Without waiting for a response, you turned around and headed inside the chateau, leaving JJ to grapple with the weight of his words.
As you disappeared from view, a sense of regret washed over JJ. He hadn't intended to upset you, and yet his thoughtless comment had clearly struck a chord. With a heavy sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, feeling a pang of guilt gnaw at him.
In that moment, JJ realized the impact his words could have and vowed to be more mindful in the future. He knew he needed to make things right with you, to apologize for his insensitivity and to bridge the divide that had formed between you. With a sense of determination, JJ followed after you, resolved to make amends and to show you that he was capable of being better. It was time to set things right and to repair the bond that had been strained by his thoughtless actions.
You stomped into the living room and swiftly picked up your bag off the couch, frustration boiling beneath the surface. As you turned around, ready to make your exit, you were met face-to-face with JJ, his expression a mixture of regret and concern.
For a moment, neither of you spoke, the tension between you thick in the air. You could feel JJ's gaze boring into you, searching for some sign of forgiveness or understanding.
You looked up at JJ, your frown deepening as you met his gaze. "What do you want, JJ?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of suspicion.
JJ's expression softened at your question, and he took a step closer, his eyes searching yours. "I just wanted to apologize," he said, his voice earnest. "I didn't mean to upset you back there. It was a dick move." His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. You could see the sincerity in JJ's eyes, the genuine remorse etched on his face, and it gave you pause.
You crossed your arms and tilted your head at him, skepticism evident in your expression. "Is this some kind of joke, JJ? Because you never apologize," you said, your tone edged with disbelief.
JJ's expression faltered for a moment, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by a rare vulnerability. "No, it's not a joke," he replied earnestly, his voice quiet but sincere. "I messed up, and I know it. I just... I don't want things to be weird between us, you know?"
You looked at him, your confusion evident in your expression. "Why do you even care, JJ? What does it matter to you?" you asked, your tone tinged with skepticism.
JJ's gaze faltered for a moment, a sense of vulnerability washing over him as he began to speak. "Look, I know you think that I hate you, but I don't," he admitted, his voice tinged with sincerity. His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. You had always assumed that JJ harbored some level of animosity towards you, given your past interactions and the tension that often simmered between you.
But as you looked into JJ's eyes, you could see a genuine earnestness that took you by surprise. There was something raw and vulnerable in his expression, a sincerity that you hadn't expected.
"Then why do you act like you do?" you asked, your voice tinged with a mixture of confusion and frustration.
JJ sighed heavily, a lump forming in his throat as he looked up at the ceiling, his words weighed down by the weight of his confession. "Because you're a kook, Y/N," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "And that alone makes you unattainable. So, it's easier to act like I hate you than to tell you the truth." His admission hit you like a ton of bricks, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. You had never expected JJ to be so candid about his feelings, and his honesty took you by surprise.
"What truth, JJ?" you asked, your voice soft but insistent, curiosity lacing your words.
JJ's gaze shifted to meet yours, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. "The truth about... about how I feel about you," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
His confession caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were speechless. You had never expected JJ to be so forthcoming about his feelings, and his honesty left you feeling both surprised and intrigued.
"The truth about... how you feel about me?" you repeated, trying to process JJ's words.
JJ nodded slowly, his gaze never leaving yours. "Yeah," he replied, his voice tinged with vulnerability. "I... I care about you, Y/N. More than I should."
His admission hung in the air between you, the weight of his words sinking in. You could see the sincerity in JJ's eyes, the raw honesty etched on his face, and it left you feeling both touched and unsure of how to respond.
Before you could speak, JJ continued, his words pouring out in a rush. "And I hate how you settle for Rafe," he confessed, his voice tinged with frustration and regret. "You deserve so much better than him, Y/N."
His words caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words. You had never expected JJ to be so candid about his feelings, and his honesty left you feeling both surprised and conflicted.
"I... I don't know what to say, JJ," you admitted, your voice filled with uncertainty.
JJ sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "I know I shouldn't say this," he continued, his gaze fixed on the ground. "But I can't stand seeing you with him, knowing that you deserve someone who treats you right."
His confession hung in the air between you, the weight of his words sinking in. You could see the sincerity in JJ's eyes, the raw emotion etched on his face, and it left you feeling both touched and conflicted.
You went to speak, "JJ, I—" but he cut you off, his expression a mixture of resignation and understanding. "I understand, Y/N," he said softly, his voice tinged with sadness. "I know it doesn't change anything."
You paused, your heart pounding in your chest, and reached out, gently taking JJ's hand as he began to turn away. Looking up at him with pleading eyes, you searched his gaze for the right words, the words that could convey the depth of your feelings.
"JJ, wait," you said softly, your voice tinged with a mixture of regret and longing. "If I would've known... If I would've known how you felt, I would've done something about it."
Your words hung in the air between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. You could feel the weight of the moment, the tension crackling in the air as you waited for JJ's response.
JJ's gaze softened as he looked down at you, his eyes searching yours for a long moment. "Y/N..." he started, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words.
But before he could say anything else, you felt a surge of courage wash over you. Leaning in closer, you closed the distance between you and pressed your lips against his, a silent plea for understanding and forgiveness.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still as JJ's lips met yours, the world falling away around you. And in that moment, you felt a spark of hope flicker to life in your heart, a glimmer of possibility that maybe, just maybe, there was more to your relationship with JJ than you had ever dared to hope.
When you finally pulled away, JJ's expression was a mixture of surprise and confusion, but there was something else there too, something that mirrored the longing in your own heart.
"I... I don't know what to say," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.
You smiled softly, your hand still intertwined with his. "You don't have to say anything," you replied gently. "Just know that... I care about you, JJ. More than you'll ever know."
With that, you turned and walked away, leaving JJ standing there, his gaze following you as you disappeared from view. And as you made your way out of the chateau, a sense of hope filled your heart, knowing that perhaps there was still a chance for something more between you and JJ.
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mitsies · 6 months
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❊ turn me down - michael kaiser . . loving you might just be the unluckiest fate.
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there is an ache in kaiser's chest that he can't get rid of.
it's been lingering for far too long to be normal. like a broken wire, sparks fly down his spine, burning from the inside. he's already tried writing it off as bad sleep. he's tried explaining it away as lifestyle, or certain foods, or other irrelevant factors. but no matter what he tries, this dull pain, it persists. it lives inside him; a parasite.
he feels it when the train slows to a stop. he feels it in his history lecture when his professor says something dull. he feels it on the football field when he really, really shouldn't. kaiser can't escape the sensation. it follows him like a shadow, like a bad omen, like a ghost.
and the only solution, he's found, is your touch.
this is discovered on a rain-soaked monday. the both of you had been taking cover in your apartment, and your roommates were all out. it hadn't been awkward, not at all. because before anything else, the both of you were friends. you'd met in a chemistry class a few months back. your friendship was new, and it was easy; it was even easier for him to fall for you.
maybe it had happened that night, when the two of you had shared your first kiss together. when you'd both agreed to be a little more than friends, but not much more. when he'd first touched you the way he wanted to. or maybe he'd fallen for you before that— back in the class, back to your first study session. or maybe it was sometime after. he doesn't know. he may never know. but as it stands, that's where he is; hopelessly, pathetically infatuated with you.
he thinks of it as something like a blessing. the way you talk to him makes him feel tethered and real. the way your hands trace familiar pathways down his back on late nights makes everything feel right. the way you care about him makes his whole body burn enough to forget the stupid ache in his chest.
you've always been hard to read. he can never quite tell what you're thinking, although he itches, burns, to have every single piece of you learned and memorised. is it just for fun to you? or is it more, like it is to him? do you think about him when he's not there like he thinks about you? does his touch make you feel okay for once, too? he hopes so. he needs it to be true, really. because there is something desperate about the way he loves you. like he's grasping at something that's always just out of reach. like you're the only cure for his pain. like you're the only good thing he has, like he can't let you be just a friend.
but that's all you are, really; just friends. nothing less but also nothing more. an unfortunate conundrum. and even more unfortunate is the fact that in his blindness, he'd neglected to account for the fact that friends-with-benefits was no kind of commitment, either.
the bar is muggy and crowded on friday nights, and tonight is no different. kaiser is usually by your side, but he's let himself get pulled away by some of your friend group for a game of pool. but when he's done, and searches for you, you aren't alone. there's a stranger seated in the barstool where he once was, making conversation with you— and you look amused. a hand is propping your head up and your body is tilted towards the stranger, and your eyes crinkle a little around the corner like they do when you find something funny, and kaiser is angry. his body aches, it burns. an ugly feeling melts into his bones, mixing not-too-well with the alcohol already in his system as he moves to where you're sitting.
maybe it's ego. maybe it's envy. or maybe, just maybe it's desperation, as he inserts himself between you and the man with a crooked grin in your direction. "everything okay here, darling?"
you might be hard to read at times, but there's no mistaking the venom that burns behind your eyes as you glare at him. it should hurt. but you're looking at him, so how bad could it be?
you feign a smile and play along, presumably to avoid embarrassment. "yes. yes, actually, more than okay. in fact, i'm ready to go now. mind paying my tab?"
he likes you when you're irritated. he likes you all the time. he'd pay your tab even if you didn't ask. kaiser can feel your anger swell as the man you were speaking to dismisses himself, and as he leads you out of the bar. but he can't be angry. not now, because you take his hand when it's offered. he knows it's to avoid a scene, but he'll pretend it's more than that. your hand in his sends warmth down his body in sparks, enough to make everything else disappear.
"what the hell was that?"
you're mad. he knew you'd be. but he loves you so he just smiles like an idiot.
the street outside the bar is mostly empty. no one is close enough to hear your conversation, and only a few bar hoppers remain, waiting for a cab or stumbling to their next destination. a streetlight shines down on you, turning you amber in its light. you look beautiful. you might've been waiting for him to respond, he's not sure; but when he doesn't, you keep going.
"kaiser, what is your problem?"
something about your saying his name snaps him out of his haze. oh. what was he doing?
"we agreed," you continue, "we're just friends. just friends. we're not anything, kaiser. we're nothing, got that?"
you're mad, you're so mad. and your words burn and sting, like whips on skin, like fire on flesh. he's silent. he doesn't have anything to say, now that the fog has lifted around his brain. you and him were nothing. he loves you like a godless man, but you and him are nothing.
"right," is all kaiser says. he lacks his usual conviction or confidence. he fears that you may be the only person who will ever be capable of reducing him to ashes. you cross your arms and stare at him with a sardonic, "yeah. right."
he loves you. he loves you like a saint, he loves you like you're all he has. and he realises, right there on the sidewalk in front of a dingy bar, that loving you does nothing but hurt.
he never ached the way he does now before he met you. he never burned with emotion too strong to contain. knowing you brought on the pain, and loving you made it worse, and being around you ruined him. this was not a blessing. this was a curse. your touch was not a cure as much as it was a cause.
it hurts to love you. it hurts to love you this much and get nothing back. he knows he shouldn't, now, he's realised that it'll only make things worse. he shouldn't. but he can't let you go, not now. he's addicted to the pain, he's addicted to the melancholy of it all. which is why he smiles. which is why he says, "can i take you home and make up for it, then?"
your face is unreadable, you're sure. and he'd never know how you were feeling at that very moment. because you're hard to read on purpose. because you're not ready for him to know. but that same pain, that same hurt; you feel it too. that same love. unrequited, in your eyes. nothing but trouble. that same love, that makes you smile back. that same love that makes you say, "it's the least you could do," as you take his hand and leave.
maybe one day one of you will have the courage to shut it down or open up. maybe one day, you'll both really end up as either something or nothing. maybe one day, the ache of love's burden will lift. but for now, the pendulum swings as one of you waits for the other to finally put them out of their misery, and turn them down.
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flower chosen: yellow rose . . jealousy
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luvvyouforever · 3 days
Text
headcanons : med student!abby anderson x liberal arts student!reader ᥫ᭡
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content: wlw relationship. modern college au. ramblings of fluff, maybe a touch of angst but nothing heavy. enjoy <3
a/n: my authority for writing this you ask? i'm an english major who gets asked regularly what i am going to do with my degree! also this is my first time writing about abby i just had to get this idea out of my head and on to the screen.
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-abby decided at a young age to follow in her father's footsteps and become a doctor as well. she committed herself to studying science and math as a kid and occasionally disregarded her other studies like music, art, and english. she did enough to keep a 4.0 GPA but her heart was in science tournaments, young medical professional groups, and ap bio.
-she got into one of the best schools in the states for medicine and was a stellar student in organic chemistry, anatomy, and neurology. she knew she was going to do great on her MCAT, but unfortunately, she wasn't doing so great in some of her gen ed classes and it was impacting her gpa.
-that was how she found herself in a tutoring center in one of the older buildings on campus that was shockingly different from the science buildings she spent all of her time in. she had an appointment with you, but was so nervous to go and admit that she was having trouble in something as simple as art history or literature or communication.
-when she sat down to have her appointment with you, you immediately calmed her nerves and assured her that there was nothing wrong with needing some help in classes she wasn't comfortable in. you helped her ace her quiz and then she just kept coming in to see you. over and over. until she eventually passed the class with an A and no longer needed your assistance.
-and then, as luck would have it, abby got her own job as a tutor for science courses and who happened to walk in but you! the tutor who helped her pass her own difficult course.
-it was history from there.
-despite abby's commitment to her education, she was always able to carve time out of her schedule to be with you. she loves studying with you and filling up a room in the library with your stuff to prepare for exams together. she takes a whiteboard and writes all of her notes on it while you're rereading historical texts or revising your final paper about a painting abby doesn't really quite understand.
-she never makes you feel less than for not studying something "more difficult" as people have before. she loves hearing about your passions for history or writing stories or creating art. she'll come with you to art galleries and try to input her own thoughts from time to time about what she thinks certain pieces mean.
-she understands that graduate school applications are just as important to you as medical school applications are for her. you'll do practice interviews with each other and try on outfits for each other.
-abby will not stand for someone making fun of you for your choice of studies. you two once went to a family gathering on abby's side and when some of her family members began interrogating you on how you're going to get a job and even imply that you'll be living off of abby for your whole life, she gets all up in their face and comforts you later! you will not be sending birthday wishes to those family members anymore and she can guarantee that.
-if you guys get accepted in to schools that are long-distance from each other, you'll absolutely make it work. abby is so methodical that she'll never forget to text you and plans out times that either of you can visit.
-if you ever dedicate a piece that you've created in school to her, she'll positively swoon. like if you wrote a poem about her, she would print it out and pin it up on the fridge. if you painted her, she would hang it up on the wall. and she's the best model for those things too
-i imagine that dinners with your colleagues or friends are very random. abby has but a few friends in her residency and they're each as professional as her. you, however, come with a group of lively people who are discussing philosophical ideas or debating about a piece of art history and how its influenced modern culture. it would be an interesting combination to say the least.
-abby would just be so interested in anything you have to do and would never be critical of your choices. she sees the passion you have for things that lie far outside her field and appreciates it. your future apartment that you build years after meeting when you are each established in your dream careers is a mesh of medical textbooks and flashcards and models but also messy journals and thrifted antiques and poems written on sticky notes for her to find.
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loviatarsluv · 4 months
Text
An Acquired Taste
“You play a twisted little game,
but I know in a way,
you need to complicate
believe that though we never eat,
we still know how to feed,
we still know how to bleed”
Astarion x AFAB female rogue tav (third person, no super descriptive features aside from hair color and body)
takes place earlier into act 1, long before the grove party (I have plans for that)
rating: VERY mature (smut incoming lets go besties!!!!!!)
CW: threats of bodily harm (eheh), lots of sexual tension, choking, fingering, oral, some light knifeplay
a/n: I’m gonna be 100% honest w u I have not written in forever so I’m admittedly very rusty, but I have not seen enough enemies to lovers with astarion and I just needed it so thus this was born ^.^
in summary: astarion and tav butt heads constantly and get into a blow up fight where they both say shit they shouldn’t, tav is overwhelmed by everything and he is not helping, so she goes to blow off some steam once they get back to camp and he, of course, petty as he is, cannot let her have a single moment of peace and follows her. she threatens to slit his throat and he gets horny. as one does 🤷‍♀️ (just like me fr)
word count: 7.6k (i'm so sorry i was possessed writing this apparently)
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(I have no idea where I got this gif from if someone knows tell me and I’ll tag the op!!)
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The trek back to camp is mostly silent, save for the odd comment about the weather or spew of stream of consciousness by Karlach, which provided at least a tiny bit of comic relief.
The air was thick and suffocating between the party’s leader and the vampire who just loved to piss her off - it almost always was slightly tense, but today in particular was much different than what was usual for them.
As soon as they reach the camp, the group splits, all scattering across the site to their own chosen sections of it, Astarion nonchalantly strolling off to his own tent, which just so happened to be the closest one to hers. She audibly growls in frustration, earning a few concerned stares from her companions. She can’t even find peace in her own tent.
Before any of her companions can stop her or inevitably approach her with questions about what happened between her and Astarion or unsolicited and, quite frankly, unnecessary advice, she slips off to the place that had been the one piece of solace she had been able to find as of late. The clearing in the forest near the water's edge that was just outside of camp.
The usually ataractic smell of petrichor mixed with the misty air near the running stream fill her nose as she trudges through the muddy soil, her leather and metal plated boots feeling ten stones heavier than usual. She sets her sights on a fallen tree near the water, sinking down into the dirt before it, releasing a long and deep breath that she didn’t realize she’d been holding for what felt like days.
She slowly strips off the outer layers of her lightly plated armor piece by piece, goosebumps prickling her skin with each new bit of skin exposed to the crisp evening air. She discovers a few new bruises and scrapes that hadn’t been there previously when removing certain parts of her gear had become painful, her skin tender and sore beneath it. Her entire body ached, and she was utterly sapped.
The previous few days had been more challenging than anything she’d experienced in recent history - their predicament unfolding before them all in increasingly bleak shades of stormy gray and blood red with each new bit of information they receive regarding the mystery surrounding the parasites that writhed within their skulls. She’d be lying if she said she still held the same amount of optimism toward the prospect of a cure as she had in the earlier days of their expedition. No, that was long gone.
In fact, the only emotion she seemed to feel lately was anger. Rage.
She knew that the world was going to shit prior to being abducted by the mind flayers, but she had never seen for herself how truly doomed it was the way she had since then. It was sobering, to say the least.
She never considered herself to be particularly altruistic or even virtuous by any means, having only been able to survive by picking pockets and slitting throats that stood in the way since her early teen years. She wasn’t proud of it all, and her mind was not unburdened with the guilt that came with some of it, but it was necessary at the time. It continued to be necessary, even more so now.
An image of home flashes through her mind - Baldur’s Gate. The bustling streets, the busy taverns, the upper city where she procured the majority of her coin. She chuckles to herself as she thinks of all of the nobles whose pockets she’d made lighter who were none the wiser  - hells, most of them probably never noticed as gold was never in short supply for them the way it was for the rest of the population. They were easy targets only due to their noses being so high in the air that they didn’t notice those beneath them, scrounging the streets for the crumbs they crushed beneath their perfectly polished boots.
All she had to do was bat her eyelashes, whisper the same sweet nothings that worked on every single one of them, and expertly slip her hand into their pockets while they were enchanted by her every move. It was easier than easy, it was effortless.
She almost misses it - things were simpler, then. It had all become routine after so many years of it. Of course, there was still the threat of death looming over her at every turn but at least she could put up a fight against the daggers and swords that were held to her throat - there was no fighting this. She couldn’t threaten the tadpole with knives or swords or warfare, and she certainly couldn’t fight off ceremorphosis by sheer willpower. Sure, she could cut through every goblin, drow, or cultist that dared cross her path if they didn’t offer a cure or information for a cure, but none of that mattered as the creature inside her was nothing more than a ticking time bomb. Every second that passes could be her last without tentacles and an insatiable appetite for brains, and she’d be rendered nothing more than a soulless monster, doomed to follow every command given to it by an even bigger monstrosity.
Her hope and faith in finding a solution deteriorated more and more as the days passed with no answers, no leads, the prospect of making it out on the other side of this predicament seeming ever more distant. 
She groans loudly to herself, tossing her head into her hands as she brings her knees closer to her chest, wishing she could shrink and disappear. Wishing the mud below her would form a sinkhole and just swallow her, that way it didn’t matter anymore, nothing would.
“Fuck,” She whispers through gritted teeth as she feels tears starting to well up in her eyes, much to her physical and internal protest.
In spite of her throbbing muscles and aching bones, she pushes herself up from the ground, refusing to resort to wallowing in self pity and mourning her once simple life.
But her chest feels as though it were caught in a vice, clamping down on her ribs and lungs and it felt as if she were fighting for every breath. Her fists were clenched so tightly and her nails dug into her palms so deeply that they were on the verge of drawing blood. She felt the need to scream, to cry, to break something - even though none of it would alleviate the weight that rested on her shoulders so heavily. Nothing that was within her reach could.
She felt like everything had come crashing down on her all at once and she was helpless to fight the barrage of what ifs and the potential outcomes of them flooded her mind.
Then, to top it all, her earlier argument with Astarion resurfaces in her mind.
“Apologies for not being as keen to remove the thing that has given me what I’ve been deprived of for two centuries. I’m only saying that we should—“
“So you’d trade feasting on rats in a dirty cell for feasting on brains at the command of some start-up god? You must really be desperate.”
His crimson eyes that were typically bright and playful were now dark and malignant, his jaw clenched and fangs bared. He looked as though he were about to lunge at her, before Wyll grabs him and pulls him back.
She regretted it the moment it left her lips, but she was too angry and too prideful to take it back. But he was seriously irking her - he provoked it out of her, she could hardly blame herself or feel sorry.
“What about you? Roaming the streets, scrounging through the garbage and the dirt for table scraps, stealing from nobles - you’re no better than the rats I fed on, the only difference is that the ones I fed on were more tolerable.”
It was then her turn to get pulled away, as within an instant her dagger was unsheathed and pointed in his direction. She couldn’t tell who it was that grabbed her - perhaps Gale, she thought, who was much stronger than he looked as he subdued her fairly quickly, wrapping his arms around her and dragging her backwards.
It took a lot of talking both of them down to diffuse the situation enough to safely make it back to camp in one piece, both of them too stubborn and prideful to let the matter rest until they just couldn’t stand to be near each other anymore.
His voice echoes in her head, reminding her of every person she’d ever reached out to for help in her life, degrading her to nothing more than a street rat begging for scraps. Her temper rises as she replays his words - “you’re no better than the rats I fed on” - over and over, finally tipping her over the edge. 
She retrieves her rapier from the heap she’d discarded her armor and clothes in, rushes toward a large oak tree, swinging it into the trunk over and over until there’s large slashes in the trunk, the bark flying in shards and bits.
She steps back, breath ragged and heavy, eyes burning with tears that she refused to shed, especially over him and his damned opinion.
She's too enthralled in her own outburst to notice the footsteps approaching in the forest behind her.
“And what exactly did that tree do to deserve your wrath?” Astarion taunts, slowly stalking up behind her.
She doesn’t turn to face him, nor does she acknowledge him at all, tossing her weapon to the ground and walking back toward the stream.
“Tsk, I’m getting the silent treatment now? No scathing insults or cruel comments regarding my past?” He continues to prod, following a few steps behind her.
“Fuck. Off.” She growls through gritted teeth.
He chuckles, the sound bitter and disingenuous, goading.
“Oh, darling. You couldn’t possibly think that we wouldn’t have to kiss and make up after our little spat earlier. We’re stuck with each other in this sordid endeavor, after all.”
Her knuckles have gone white with the force of her clutching onto the fabric of her undershirt that she’d thankfully left on, on the off chance one of her companions came to check on her. Much to her dismay, of course it was the one companion she wished she had never laid eyes on to begin with.
“I’d rather kiss a leech, darling,” she spits, her tone coated in vitriol. “I have nothing more to say to you, unless you’d like me to return the favor of holding a dagger to your throat.”
When they’d met outside the nautiloid crash, and the elf held her at knifepoint demanding information, assuming she was a thrall or working with the mind flayers, she thought perhaps they would get along. She immediately recognized him as a kindred spirit as she knew that she would’ve done the same in his shoes, hells, she was even attracted to him. 
Oh, how wrong she’d been.
Well, not about the attraction. That, unfortunately, did not dissipate.
If anything, it only made her hate him more.
He almost cackles, stalking in ever closer, closing the gap between them step by step. She resists the urge to step backwards to increase the distance between them once again, and stays planted in place out of spite, digging her heels into the dirt for extra support. 
“I think there’s a lot that we both want to say and do to each other - the question is who’ll be the first to act.” His voice is equal parts threatening and sultry - something only he did so well.
He could make you loathe him and lust him in one fell swoop with ease. It was one of his biggest strengths, and a large reason why she hadn’t told him to piss off and find another group to leech off of. He was useful in and out of battle, much to her dismay. 
“The only thing I want to do with you at this very moment is throw your pasty ass in the river and hope that you’ve forgotten how to swim.” She spat.
He continues to stalk closer, their bodies now less than a foot apart.
“You’re stubborn. I like that about you. You don’t accept defeat easily, even when it’s knocking at your door. It’s quite admirable, really,” he pauses to lean forward, lowering his face so they’re eye to eye.
“Admit it, dear, you’ve met your match with me.” He grins a devilish grin that she wants to slap off of his pretty mouth. If he were any closer, she might have.
“This isn’t a competition. I want to be rid of this damned thing and you want to step in the way of my and everyone else’s survival at every turn just for your own selfish sake!” She seethes, her voice raising and echoing through the woods.
He rolls his eyes. “Don’t act as though you give the slightest bit of a damn about anyone’s survival but your own, altruism isn’t a good look on you, pet. You and I are cut from the same cloth, whether you want to admit that to yourself or not.”
Her once empty fist was now grasping the handle of her dagger that she had sheathed and strapped to her thigh, as she always did, a habit that came in handy more times than she’d like for it to.
“I am nothing like you.” Is all she manages to hiss before he finally closes the gap between them, his face merely inches from hers, basically towering over her - their stark height difference being something only he had noticed and fully planned on using to his advantage.
He feels the heat radiating off of her, and he tells himself that it’s due to more than just anger to stroke his own ego. He knew that she was attracted to him, he’d caught her eyes lingering on him when she thought he wouldn’t notice - when he’d change into his evening clothes just outside his tent, when he would traipse off into the woods to hunt at night, and in general throughout their days traveling he would catch her eyes on him, watching him. It made it all the more exciting for him, knowing that even though she despised him, she’d let him have his way with her if the opportunity arose. He was just biding his time for the right moment and preparing all the perfect words that he knew would reduce her to putty in his hands.
“Keep telling yourself that, if it’ll help you sleep peacefully at night.” He whispers, his eyes dark and hungry - she couldn’t decipher whether it was for her or her blood in one way or another.
“How can I sleep peacefully knowing there’s a bloodsucker who hates me in the next tent over from me?” She half jokes, not letting this closeness falter her composure, despite the way her heart was racing a million a minute.
He flashes that damned smirk that he does when he’s up to something, one of his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip as he does, glinting in the golden glow of the sunset. He almost looked human, in this light. His usually pallid skin is nearly lively and his crimson eyes almost appear to be a shade of dark brown instead. Although, she thinks that his eyes were probably blue, before. Not that it mattered, not that she cared.
“What makes you think that I hate you, darling?” His face flashes a feign innocent expression, in spite of his eyes still holding that same intense darkness that bordered between disdain and desire.
“I certainly don’t think that you like me, by any means. And don’t worry, the feeling is mutual.”
His smirk widens into a sadistic grin, both fangs now on display.
“On the contrary, sweetness. I think we need to stop lying to each other if we’re going to continue this little adventure of ours together,” his voice is low and breathy, rumbling in his chest almost like a growl. He brings a hand up to trace the side of her jaw gently, and she flinches away.
“I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” He continues, his once gentle caress turning into a rough and forceful grab as he forces her to look at him, his blood red eyes boring into hers.
“I only watch you because I don’t trust you. I thought that’d be pretty clear.” It was a lie. She knew it was a lie, but it was only a half lie, technically. She didn’t trust him, she hadn’t since the beginning.
He lets out another cruel laugh, and she knows that he caught on.
“Hmm. You know, I’d assume you would be a better liar - how disappointing for you, but delicious for me.”
This was the last straw for her as she promptly unsheathes the dagger that her finger had been itching over since he made his unwelcome appearance into her life, pressing it to his throat, slowly pushing him backwards until his back hits the nearest tree.
His demeanor doesn’t falter for an instant, his face still twisted into that same demented sneer - the bastard was enjoying this.
The air between them was so thick it would have had to be cut with a great sword as their eye contact never breaks, neither of them intending to surrender.
“Give me one reason not to slit that pretty throat of yours.” She snarls behind gritted teeth.
He swallows hard, his Adam's apple grazing against the cool metal of her blade. He stares down at her and can’t help but admire her - eyes wild, long raven black hair uncharacteristically disheveled with some strands sticking to her forehead due to leftover dried sweat and grime, her pressed against him hard with only a flimsy shirt shielding her body from him. He doesn’t even try to hide it, letting his tongue slip out to wet his bottom lip, an undeniably lustful look in his eyes.
It takes her a moment to notice when she finally comes back to her senses after her adrenaline settles, a scowl painting across her face as the realization hits.
“You’re disgusting.” She hisses, pulling away from him, lowering her blade.
Despite her words, the way he was looking at her sparked something in her - something she had done so well to disregard and push down up to this point, but her resolve was weakening under his gaze.
He doesn’t respond, eyes never leaving her as they trail up and down her body, constantly returning back to her bare legs and thighs. And from the angle she stood, with the sunset behind her, her light colored linen shirt was nearly opaque and he could see the outline of her body. He feasted his eyes on her delicate curves, the way her hips jutted out and her waist dipped in above them, her toned arms flexing, muscles clenching. She was unquestionably sexy, and his craving for her had doubled if not tripled at the sight of her in this way, even after she pressed her dagger to his neck. Hells, even then.
She starts to back up as his gaze only intensifies - hungry eyes trailing her body felt like hot coals being dragged across her skin.
Before she can make it more than a couple inches away, his hands are grasping her waist, fingers digging into the soft flesh to a bruising point, pulling her back to him and flipping them so that her back is flush against the tree where his had been, effectively switching the roles and asserting his dominance over her, as he’d been dying to do for what felt like centuries.
His icy hand comes up to her throat, closing his fist around it firmly but not enough to entirely restrict her breathing and pinning her against the wood, his face now close enough to feel her hot breath against his cheeks.
The rough bark digs into her scalp and back, his fingers press into the spot just below her jaw near her pulse point. He feels her pulse thrumming rapidly against his fingertips, he can hear her heartbeat racing in her chest.
“You wound me, pet… I almost believed that one.” He purrs, his cold breath and the tone of his voice sending a chill down her spine, and an unwelcome heat through her, pooling low in her core.
With one hand still on her throat, his other hand rests on her waist before languidly roaming the parts of her body that weren’t covered by his own pressed against it.
She feels helpless under his touch, all of her previously built up walls and her icy facade start to melt beneath him, but not without her brain chiming in and reminding her who he is and how bad of an idea this was.
“Let me go.” She whispers plainly, unable to muster enough nerve to yell or scream or fight back, settling for no emotion at all.
He smirks at her, his hand advancing upwards, his fingers laving over the side of her breast, causing her nipples to harden, peaking against the soft linen fabric of her shirt.
“Is that what you really want, darling? Your body tells a different story,” he hums, his finger now grazing her nipple agonizingly gently, disrupting any thought or intention of fighting him off.
She's unable to find a word that could suffice in telling him to stop, but also dear gods please keep going. Her body was taking the reins, and she blames it on having not had any sort of intimacy since long before the nautiloid. Only to avoid the prospect that she was truly enjoying this.
Her silence doesn’t suffice, though.
He tightens his grip on her throat, pressing his index finger and thumb on either side of her jaw to direct her face so their eyes meet.
“I need you to tell me what you want, pet. I can’t do anything for you if you don’t tell me what you want.”
She bites down on her bottom lip almost hard enough to bite through, a slight metallic taste hitting her tongue. Her body was trembling with the effort it took to contain herself, to not give in to him but it was proving to be an insurmountable task. The logical side of her brain wants to say no just so he doesn’t get the satisfaction of her begging for him like he wants, but she can’t. The part of her brain that is apparently driven by the spot between her legs and the rest of her body is screaming over any logic and telling her everything she doesn’t want to hear.
“Harder.” She barely manages to choke out, her voice strained against the pressure of his hand on her throat.
He freezes, his body stilling and tensing up.
“What was that, darling? I couldn’t quite hear you.” He grits his teeth, his voice low and his mouth centimeters from her ear.
“Harder.” She says louder, placing her hand over his and pressing down.
Gods, he could’ve come undone right then and there.
Without another word, their lips collided in a frenzied and feral kiss, one that was inevitable, they both learned, judging by how effortless the kiss was - their lips melding and their tongues in sync as if they’d done it a million times before. Her fingers ran through his ivory curls, tugging at the roots and eliciting a groan from him that sent a chill up her spine.
He obliged her request, slightly closing his fist tighter around her neck, which chokes a moan out of her that he quickly swallows in another kiss. His free hand greedily continues to roam and grab at anything he can - her thighs, her ass, her breasts, her hips. He can't get enough of her, he swears even being inside her wouldn't satiate his desire for her. He wants to mark her, he wants to claim her, he wants her to be his, even if it was only for this purpose alone.
She hooks her leg around his, pulling him flush against her and feeling his hardened cock straining against his breeches as it presses to her lower stomach.
She almost gasps, disappointed but secretly pleased to discover that he was big, from what she could tell through his clothes at least.
She had hoped she could at least say he was small or that the sex sucked after it was all said and done, but she had an inkling that this was just yet another thing she would have to begrudgingly give him his due credit for.
He notices her reaction to the bulge in his pants, and smirks as he presses a wet kiss to her jaw, then rocks his hips forward to press himself against her even harder.
"This is your doing, you know," He breathes, a smirk evident in his voice.
Annoyed by his arrogant words and gesture, she digs her nails into his shoulder, a noise that's somewhere between a moan and a frustrated growl escaping her as he continues to suck on her neck, grazing the skin with his fangs.
“I’m starting to think you like having your life threatened a little too much.” She breathes.
He chuckles, lips still hovering over hers. “Only by you, darling.”
He palms at her ass cheek roughly, surely leaving a slew of intentional bruises so that she has a reminder the next morning, then smacking it - his frigid touch adding to the sting of the rough contact.
She yelps slightly, biting her lip in an attempt to stifle any noises she may make. He shakes his head, releasing her neck and bringing his hand up to trace her lips with his fingertips.
"No, no, sweetness, I want to hear that pretty voice of yours. For now, at least." He has a look as if he was planning something that instantly set her on edge - she never knew what to expect from him, especially not in this sort of circumstance.
"You're such an ass," She grunts indignantly, before he dips a finger in between her parted lips.
Almost as if on pure instinct, she sucks on his digit, swirling her tongue and laving it in her spit. His breath hitches as he stifles a pleased groan. She smirks pridefully, his finger still in her mouth.
"And yet, here we are, darling."
In rebuttal, she bites down on his finger just enough to hurt him, which causes him to hiss in pain. He shoots her a warning glance, then relaxes when he sees the amusement on her face.
“So feisty.”
He rubs her bottom lip with a second finger, a silent plea to add another into her mouth, which she promptly obliges.
She gives the second finger the same treatment as the first, her mind running wild with images of his cock in place of his fingers, how he might taste, the way it already weeps with arousal for her - it felt so wrong, yet she couldn't seem to get enough.
He pulls his fingers out of her mouth with a pop, his crimson eyes holding hers in an intense stare as he brings his still dry hand down to hook her underwear to the side, the cool breeze hitting her drenched cunt and making her suck in a breath. He makes a show of bringing the two fingers that had just been in her mouth down to rub her soaking folds, making sure that she was watching his every move.
"Fuck, you're already so wet for me." He moans, his voice low and gravelly as he slowly begins to spread her apart, the filthy sounds of her arousal like a song to his ears.
A loud moan rips through her as she throws her head back, the slightest touch embarrassingly already almost too much. Maybe it was the anticipation, maybe it was because it'd been so long since she'd been touched like this - or maybe it was just another testament to how badly she needed him. His touch.
"Rather sensitive, aren't we, pet?" He teases, dipping his head down to place a kiss to the part of her chest that was exposed by the low neckline of her shirt.
"Shut. Up." She growls, her hand gripping the nape of his neck and pulling him closer. The rumbling of his laughter echoes in her chest as his mouth stays pressed against it.
He presses wet kisses further and further down as he slowly moves his face lower, sinking to his knees in front of her.
She can't contain the gasp that escapes her as she peers down at him - his typically pristine and well groomed silvery white curls were a disaster as a result of her hands ravaging them, his eyes were dark and lidded, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Not to mention, the satisfaction that came from him being on his knees below her, knowing what he intended to do - gods below, it was almost too much to bear.
He raises her shirt higher, holding it up between her breasts and getting just a small peek of the underside of them - the temptation to rip the wretched thing off of her and completely bare her to him crossing his mind. He decides against it, unsure if she'd want to be fully exposed in case someone decided to come check on her.
He, personally, wouldn't mind any of the others finding them this way - that way they would know that he was staking his claim on her. He was well aware that he was far from the only one in the camp that had dreamt of touching her, and he planned on being the only one who gets to.
He straightens himself up so he can trail another line of wet kisses down her abdomen, stopping just above the waistband of her underwear. His eyes flick back up to hers, finding that she had been watching his every move - satisfied with how quickly she catches on to his desires, as if it were natural to her.
He hooks two fingers beneath the fabric on each of her hips, waiting for her to protest. She doesn't, instead she reaches her hand down and attempts to pull them down herself. He grabs her wrist, stopping her.
"Ah ah, allow me." He commands, his voice equal parts soothing and threatening. She drops her hand back to her side. "Good girl."
He rips the fabric down her legs, letting it pool at her ankles before he hooks an arm under her thigh and lifts it so that she steps out of them. He pushes them aside, keeping her leg lifted as he pushes her night shirt out of the way once again, revealing her drenched and throbbing cunt to him, at long last.
He practically salivates at the sight, his eyes burning trails all around it as he drinks in every inch of her newly exposed flesh. This causes her to blush for the first time during this encounter, suddenly feeling self conscious about her most intimate area. She feels the urge to cover herself, her leg instinctively moving to clench against the other. He stops her quickly, pressing her leg up even higher, stretching her already sore thigh muscles.
"Absolutely perfect. To think you’ve been keeping this all to yourself." He coos, his voice now softer, reverent, even. As if he were quietly admiring the finely crafted sculpture of a goddess on display in the foyer of a tabernacle.
With her leg now draped over his shoulder, he continues his attack of wet and hungry kisses up her leg. He toys with the knife strapped to her, running a finger along the hilt of the blade, then biting the leather strap on the innermost part of her leg, his lips brushing against the skin and causing goosebumps to prickle up.
He slowly continues trailing up to the apex of her thighs, pausing at the very top of her thigh and nipping at the plush skin.
Her arousal and frustration had started to truly boil within her, him taking his damn sweet time was beginning to piss her off all over again and she knew he was doing it deliberately. He was trying all that he could to get her to beg.
"Astarion, if you don't eat me out right now, I'm going to kill you."
She wouldn't beg, no. Threatening, though? Easy.
"Patience, darling. Good things come to those who wait."
She scoffs. "I'm starting to think you're stalling. Scared that you won't be able to live up to your reputation?" She taunts in an attempt to anger him enough to finally oblige her.
His eyes narrow, his once smug face falling into a scowl.
He quickly unsheathes the knife on her thigh, grabbing it by the blade. Her eyes widened.
"What the hells are you doing?" Her voice held a bit of unease as she watched him gently tap the tip of the blade, as if he were testing the sharpness.
He grins wickedly, his eyes flicking from the dagger back up to hers. "I'm going to shut you up. Open," he commands, bringing the hilt of the dagger up to her lips.
She shoots him an uncertain look, confused. He sighs, frustrated, then presses the hilt further until her lips parted, and she took it between her teeth.
The sun had finally dipped below the horizon, the golden light shifting to a cool blue glow, the reflection of the moon glinting off of the recently sharpened and polished blade. She hadn’t realized just how sharp Lae’zel made it, and having it so close to her face this way truthfully made her nervous.
A twisted part of her enjoyed it for that fact.
He looks up at her, the sight of the hilt of the dagger that she'd threatened him with only minutes prior, now held between her teeth both ironic and unequivocally erotic.
"Much better. Shall we try this again?"
Satisfied with the outcome of his bright idea and the muffled groan of frustration from the only one who’d been plaguing his thoughts when he was alone in his tent, he returns to his prior ministrations, starting his trail of kisses right back where he'd begun them just at the side of her knee.
He repeats the process identically to how he'd done it previously, except this time he bites the top of her thigh slightly harder, eliciting a whimper from her, nearly causing the knife to slip out of her mouth.
"Careful, pet." He warns, a slight smirk playing on the corners of his lips.
With his face still right at the crest of her thigh, cool breath fanning across her burning hot flesh, he brings his even colder fingers back up to tease her folds. She jolts at the sensation, involuntarily crawling upward onto the tree, now on tiptoe with her leg that's still on the ground. He tightens his arm around her thigh, pulling it down on to his shoulder slightly as if to warn her to stay still. She obliges, flattening her foot back down and relaxing her posture as best as she can manage, the thought of making this take even longer agonizing.
His deft fingers work her slowly, touching everywhere but where she needed him most. The sounds of her slick arousal seemed much louder now that they’d both gone mostly quiet apart from their heavy breathing, and she feels that damned blush creep back up to her cheeks once again. 
She involuntarily yelps when his fingers tease her entrance, her walls instinctively clenching around nothing. She disobeys him by wriggling slightly, then realizes and quickly tries to cease her movements. He lets his thumb rest against her swollen and throbbing clit, refusing to move even an inch until she settles down.
“Look at you,” he coos. “So eager for me. I almost want to take that dagger out of your mouth and hear that sweet voice moan for me again.”
She bites down even harder into the hilt of the dagger to stifle the moan that threatens to escape her throat, certainly leaving teeth marks that she’ll have to hide in case anyone needs to borrow it later.
He chuckles, his eyes still trained on her face as he pushes ever so slightly against her entrance, his thumb pressing harder into the over-sensitive bud - savoring her every reaction to him. The way her brows knitted up, the way her glossy eyes widened, her hands clutching the fabric of her shirt and holding it close to her chest, the way the dagger shifted slightly in her mouth as her jaw clenched around it. She was a feast for his eyes and he intended to savor every bite. 
Finally, he decides to show her mercy and push his fingers further in, careful to move slowly and give her time to adjust. Her eyes blow wide and her head falls back against the tree, giving him a full view of her neck that makes his mouth water. 
Next time, he thinks to himself.
His fingers are just barely not too thick for her - the stretching only slightly uncomfortable and otherwise euphoric. He pumps in and out at a lazy pace at first, quickening over time as he feels her fully adjust after a while. She’s perfectly tight, her velvet walls clenching his fingers with every plunge into her depths. He can barely think straight, all rational thought having left him ages ago. All that he can think now is how badly he wishes it were his cock in her rather than his fingers - but as he’d told her, good things come to those who wait. 
She feels herself creeping ever closer to her peak as his movements become more and more rhythmic and deliberate, his thumb rubbing circles around her clit as his fingers piston in and out, hitting all of the right spots and driving her wild. Her body is buzzing, her legs trembling. She wants to resist how incredible this all feels, but gods, does it feel incredible. 
Everything that comes after this is a problem for later, right now, all she wants is to—
“Aah!” She yelps as he curls his fingers, the dagger slipping from her mouth and thankfully dropping to the ground beside them. 
He grins, continuing his ministrations. “Are you gonna come, pet?” 
She takes her bottom lip in between her teeth, scared to say yes in fear that he may stop and deprive her of her release just to spite her.
“Answer me.” He commands, his voice coming out as a low growl. 
She reluctantly nods.
“Use your words. Answer me.”
“Y-yes. Gods, yes. Just… don’t stop.” She whines, trying her damnedest for it not to come out as a beg, but rather a command. It was mildly successful.
To her surprise, he speeds up the pace, pumping in and out of her hard and fast - the way she so desperately craved it. She feels herself right at the edge, her orgasm impending - he can tell, as she writhes and whimpers over him. Just as he can tell she’s about to hit the peak, he stops. 
She keens at the sudden loss of friction and movement, her walls clenching down around his fingers even harder, her cunt throbbing and dripping onto his hand. 
“Why…” Is all she manages to say, her breathing ragged and her chest heaving.
“I want you to come on my mouth.” 
That alone could have sent her over the edge. 
She nods fervently, her hips bucking forward toward his face. 
He considers punishing her for being too hasty and too eager, but he couldn’t care less any more to keep up the game - he needs to taste her. He needs to devour her. 
He moves his thumb, making way for his tongue to replace it. He expertly strokes his tongue across her folds, her essence sweet and tangy on his taste buds. He swipes across her clit, causing her to jerk into his mouth, a string of incoherent curses leaving her lips. 
She drops the fabric of her shirt and threads her fingers through his hair once again, gripping it almost painfully. He groans against her, the vibrations of his voice against her causing her to see stars. 
He lifts her shirt out of his way once again, mouth never breaking from her, and growls in frustration at the piece of fabric that kept dropping into his face. Taking his growl as a silent command, she rips the fabric over her head and tosses it aside, now completely naked and bare to him as well as the cool night air.
His eyes widened at the sight of her, finally getting a full view of her breasts and the rest of her that was previously unrevealed to him. He breaks away from her cunt for a moment, both hands moving to palm her full breasts. 
“You are exquisite.” 
She’d almost prefer if he’d insult her, be cruel to her, say the worst things he can think of - that way she wouldn’t have to grapple with these new feelings that are bubbling up to the surface at how generous of a lover he’s proven to be, when only minutes prior she was sure that they shared a mutual hatred for each other. Maybe he was just putting on a show for her, like he always did. 
Yes. He’s putting on a show. He has to be, she thinks. 
She hisses through her teeth when he finally brings his mouth and hand back to her mound, wasting no time in resuming his prior crusade to make her come, pumping his fingers at a punishing pace, his tongue circling her clit in tandem. He keeps his free hand on her breast, pinching her nipple hard, causing her to roll her hips into his face. 
“That’s it, love. Take what you need.” 
For fucks sake, he’s going to be the death of me. 
His words, his mouth, and his dexterous fingers are a wicked combination - every single movement, every single word, every lap at her needy cunt is nearly too much for her to bear as she uses every bit of her remaining strength to keep from crumbling into a heap in the dirt. 
As requested by him, she continues to rock her hips forward, grinding down onto his fingers and mouth, his fingers hitting all the right places to drive her over the edge. She grips at his shoulder, nails digging into the fabric of his ruffled evening shirt, chest heaving as she creeps ever closer once again, and silently prays he has mercy on her this time. 
“Astarion, I’m—“
“I know, love. Come for me,” he says, muffled with his mouth still tongue deep in her. 
As if on command, she shatters, tumbling over the edge into free fall towards the hardest orgasm she’s had in months, perhaps even years. 
Her body shakes and writhes as she gushes on his tongue, but he doesn’t slow his movements, still pumping into her as she rides out her orgasm, pangs of unbridled pleasure crashing over her like tidal waves.
Her legs quiver, the leg that she was using to stand begins to buckle at the knee as all strength she’d had left from the day has finally been sapped from her body. She slowly slides down the tree into his lap, eyes closed and still reeling. 
She manages to weakly tilt her head forward, looking him in the eye for the first time with new eyes - unsure what that meant for her yet. She was half sure that she still hated him. Half. 
He grins at her, his own chest still heaving as he catches his breath, ruby irises lighter than before, a look in his eyes that she doesn’t quite recognize. 
“I’d be lying if I said I haven’t been dying to do that since the day I met you.” He says, popping his fingers into his mouth and licking her slick off. 
She swallows hard at the sight, her still sore and sensitive core starting to flutter again as he licks his fingers clean. 
“I still don’t like you, you know. You’ll have to do more than make me orgasm to change my mind.” She says, her tone unusually calm and amicable toward him despite her words. 
“Oh darling, who said we had to like each other to do that? In fact, I think it makes it all the more thrilling.” He brings his hand up to her cheek, gently caressing it and swiping his thumb across it. 
She puffs air out of her nose, a wry smile on her lips. “Who says we’re going to do that again?”
He grins, bringing his still wet lips and face closer to hers, his breath smelling strongly of a mixture of her essence, wine, and a bitter metallic smell that was undeniably blood - she assumes he hunted not too long before he joined her in the woods. 
“You can hate me all you want, my sweet, but I know that nobody has ever made you feel the way that I do. It’ll only be a matter of time before you’re crawling back into my bedroll, begging for another taste.” He taunts, his voice in that same low and sultry tone he did so well, the one that he knew had the power to melt anybody right into his hands. 
She narrows her eyes for a brief moment - then an idea flits into the back of her mind, a mischievous smile following suit. The game was now set, and she was ready to play. 
“We’ll see who begs who first, darling.” 
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weasleykisses · 7 months
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Astronomy I (Sirius Black x Reader)
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A/N: You think you hate Sirius Black. As James’ sister though, you see an awful lot of him. If only you weren't desperately in love with him, and he wasn't the most handsome boy you'd ever met. 
word count: 5.6k
You didn’t mind hanging out with your twin brother. He was exciting and funny, always making you laugh aloud from his antics. You actually enjoyed his company, unlike how some others were with their siblings. You assumed he liked your company.
At least, he enjoyed your company when you weren’t fighting ruthlessly with a certain boy with long raven-colored hair and an awfully smug smile on his lips that never left his face. You couldn’t stand Sirius Black. He was just…just a womanizing pervert with no life. It was hard sometimes getting along with your own brother when his best friend was so miserable to be around.
You didn’t even mind your brother’s other friends. Peter was quiet and a great listener. He wasn’t anything special,  but he never got on your nerves either. Remus was practically godsent, helping you with homework and sitting with you when you had classes without any of your friends. He had this way of making everything so calm and tranquil when he entered the room. 
You were roommates with Lily, your brother’s crush since the first year at Hogwarts. You also hung out with Dorcas and Marlene, sometimes Mary, sometimes Alice and Frank. You could appreciate most of the people you found yourself surrounded by. Everyone but him.
At least, that’s what you wanted everyone to think. You actually really enjoyed your time with Sirius, much more than you should have. He was just so perfect. The guy of your dreams, literally. You often woke up in the middle of the night after having dreamt of him kissing you, calling you his girl. 
Only, he wasn’t interested in you. To him, you were just his best mate's twin sister, just another bro within the group. You didn’t know where he got that impression either. You were smart and considerate of others, unlike the majority of the marauders. You wore dresses and painted your face with makeup to highlight some of your more feminine features. You were a girl with feelings, not simply “one of the guys”. Peter and Remus didn’t see you like that. 
That’s why you found yourself absolutely furious with him all the time. You hated him so much. You hated the way he made you feel like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. You hated the way he smirked when you got flustered. You hated everything about him because he wasn’t yours. It wasn’t always that way either. You used to like him in your first few years at Hogwarts, but over time you started to catch feelings and you weren’t very tolerant of the heart break you felt whenever he inevitably flirted with other girls. 
That’s why you sat with your arms crossed, trying to zone out his incessant flirting with Marlene McKinnon even if she was gay as fuck. The way he complimented her beautiful blonde hair, and winked when she smiled at him. 
Peter was talking to you about something that happened in his History of Magic class that afternoon, but you weren’t listening. You’d checked out a long time ago. 
“Whatever, McKinnon, I’ve got a hot date with a Ravenclaw later. Your loss,” he joked, and she shoved his shoulder playfully. He respected that Marlene was in a committed relationship with Dorcas, but he couldn’t help flirting with everyone. Well, everyone except for you. You’d nearly bite his head off if he did. 
You immediately felt uncomfortable at his comment, now knowing he had another date with, no doubt, a gorgeous girl. He would probably snog her, maybe even hook up if he was feeling promiscuous. Your stomach turned like you might be sick all over the coffee table. 
Your brother piped up from his spot beside Lily near the fireplace, “When are you gonna settle down, Pads? You have a new girl, like every week.”
Sirius grinned and shook his head. “‘No plans on slowing down any time soon,” he declared, “I don’t think there’s been a girl to catch my eye yet.”
You deflated. Of course he would say that. You didn’t know why you always got your hopes up. He wasn’t the type to settle for a single girl. He liked to spread his affection thin amongst many suitors. 
“Aw, that's no fun. Don’t you want to find your true love?” Lily asked, leaning into James happily. You were happy to see your brother finally with the girl of his dreams. He’d spent enough years running after her, that was for sure. 
Sirius shrugged. “When I meet her, I meet her. If not, I won’t be disappointed.”
Except, Sirius Black did have a girl that caught his eye. In fact, you’d done so pretty long ago, before he could remember really. Only, you were insistent that you despised him, fighting with him since the third or fourth year. James’ pretty sister, the one that loved astronomy, cauldron cakes, and unfortunately,  scowling at any attempt he made to flirt with you. 
He wanted you. You were always endgame in his eyes, the girl he would marry and spend his days huddled up in a cottage with. One day, he wanted to give you everything you could need, anything you asked for. It was the only thing he saw when he thought about his future. 
You sighed, thinking about the girl he must like. You imagined he liked someone with soft long hair, sparkling eyes, a button nose and plump pink lips. Maybe she was intelligent and kind, or clever and sexy. You were rough around the edges. You weren’t the most attractive girl at Hogwarts, nor were you particularly intelligent or charming. You were fairly plain in comparison to some of the showstopping girls that you surround yourself with. Lily, for example, was drop dead gorgeous. 
“Come on. There must be one girl you fancy,” Marlene teased.
Sirius smirked. “And so what if there is? I’ll never tell who.”
“My guess is on that Hufflepuff in our charms class. She’s always sneaking looks at you,” Peter suggested, and Sirius didn’t reply, letting your mind wander. It simmered in your mind, the thought of Sirius and that Hufflepuff girl, you thought her name was Penelope, if you remembered correctly. She was a cute girl with sweet eyes and a soft voice filled with joy. 
You didn’t notice, but your lip quivered just a bit. Your heart had sunken down in your stomach like a boulder. With your shoulders turned in on themselves, you looked down at the carpet, trying to focus on the gold and red pattern instead of the discussion at hand. 
Why did you feel so sick at the thought of Sirius liking another girl? He was just a friend, if that. He was more like a friend of a friend that you eventually only begrudgingly hung out with. So what if he liked that stupid hufflepuff girl with her sparkly pink eyeshadow and her perfect nose and a voice that rivaled a siren’s song? It didn’t matter to you. 
Only it did, and when you felt that familiar wave of tears coming through, you shook your head. 
“Oh, Y/N, where are you going?” James asked, and you exhaled, trying to avoid the tremor in your voice.
“I forgot I have to run by the library and study that chapter on dittanies before that test tomorrow,” you said, and Remus looked at you, confused. You didn’t have a test in Herbology for another week. Only he knew that as he was in the same class as you. 
You picked up your bag and started making your way out of the common room. You heard Remus say something behind you, but you were too focused on rushing away from the conversation. You left out the portrait hole, letting the first of your tears run down your face when you were in the hallway. You sniffled, pressing your face to your puffy cardigan sleeves. 
The door opened behind you and you tried to cover up your little crying fit, but upon seeing Remus Lupin walk out, clearly looking for you, you let your guard down. You could trust him, out of everyone in the group, he was most likely to keep your secrets. 
You let yourself sob, shutting your eyes and pressing your palms to cover your eyes. 
His hand found your back and rubbed soothingly. “It’s okay, Y/N. Forget about him. He’s an idiot,” he assured, and you only cried harder. There was nothing much to say. 
“I just fucking hate that I like him, Remus. Why him? It’s so stupid. He’s so stupid,” you cried, so angry with yourself. “I’ll never look like those girls. I’ll never be like them. I’m stuck being boring Y/N.” You wiped at your tears, trying to stop yourself from being such a baby. 
He let out a heavy sigh. “Why do you think of yourself like that?”
“How can I not? Sirius won’t even flirt with me. I’m that disgusting that the biggest flirt in the entire world won’t even jokingly compliment me,” you told him. 
“Sirius is complicated. I’m sure it’s not what you think.”
“Yeah, right. That’s why I’ve never had a boy ask me out the entire time we’ve been at Hogwarts,” you groaned, “Give it up, Moony. I’m just the worst.”
“Have you considered boys might be too intimidated to ask you out,” he suggested, leaning down to make eye contact with you. “You seem to forget your brother is Quidditch team captain and you exude quite a lot of attitude.”
You rolled your eyes, an awkward smile on your lips. “I’m not intimidating.”
“You kind of are. I’ve even noticed a few boys look at you positively smitten this year, might I add.”
You smiled, leaning into his side to give him a little hug. “Thanks for trying to cheer me up, Rem.”
“That’s just what friends do,” he told you, hugging you back. He was probably the only person in this world that knew about your crush on the disowned Black. He encouraged you time and time again to just shoot your shot and ask him out, but you denied it every time. You just continued to argue with the boy, too scared to be nice to him and fall deeper into this pit you called love.  The downside was that you sort of chose to be an asshole. Sirius really didn’t deserve it, he didn’t do a thing wrong. You just couldn’t handle your feelings of inferiority mixed with intense emotions for the boy. 
You didn’t know what the next steps were, but you swore to yourself you wouldn’t let Sirius Black hold you back anymore. 
____
It was Christmas, so you and your brother had packed your things to spend the holiday at your house. Normally, you would be ecstatic to go home and enjoy yourself, only the past few holidays since Sirius was disowned, James decided it was time to start inviting Sirius to the family gatherings as well. As much as you loathed having to see him during your vacations, you agreed that it was the right thing to do inviting him. His own family was awful and cruel, and he didn’t deserve that sort of treatment anytime, much less so close to the holidays. 
“You know the drill, Black. This room is yours now. It’s got a bathroom over there, and obviously you can use any of the soaps, shampoos, whatever you might need,” you told him, pointing to the attached bath beside his bedroom. “You can also use the wardrobes and the closets if you want to unpack the clothes you brought with you.”
You didn’t know why your parents assigned you the role of showing Sirius around the house when you could have been the one to show Remus around, as he was also staying at the house. James was off showing their tall friend around instead, and you envied him. Whenever you were with Sirius, you just felt so awkward. 
He was so handsome. He was charming and beautiful, with just enough snark to be interesting, but not enough to be rude. He was handsome but not so much he wasn’t manly and rugged. You had to stop yourself from staring at him as you walked him around the huge house you lived in for your entire life. 
He hummed, looking at you with those stunning brown eyes. “Your room is right beside mine?”
“Yes, not that that matters at all.”
“What if I have a bad dream and need someone to comfort me?” he asked with a smirk, and you just rolled your eyes. 
“You can go to James’ room if it’s that serious.”
He sat on his mattress and tested the softness, seemingly satisfied with it. He waved you over to sit beside him, and shockingly, you did as he asked, sitting yourself at the edge of the bed with your legs crossed. He looked all around the stunning dark blue room, complete with intricately painted curtains hanging from the windows and a quilted comforter on the bed beneath them. The ceiling was painted to mimic that of an observatory. It was actually one of your favorite rooms in the house, the observatory themed guest bed. You figured Sirius would like it as he spent a bit of time in the Astronomy tower on dates with random girls. 
“So…Your parents are always so nice,” he attempted to start a conversation, “I’m really grateful they let me stay here.”
“It’s really no problem. We have plenty of space, not to mention my mum is glad to make double the portions for Christmas dinner. She’s quite the chef,” you assured him. “She’s always asked me to have friends over for the holidays, she’s just happy you all are here.”
“What are the plans for today?”
“I was going to head to the village and get some gifts for everyone. I usually wait until the last moment, so I don’t have much time left, do I?”
“I’ll come with you.”
“What? No. I never said you were invited,” you argued, shaking your head. It was supposed to be your peaceful day out by yourself, or with Remus if he decided he wanted to go. You didn’t want to deal with Sirius Black trailing behind you flirting with everything that could breathe. Not to mention he would probably comment on all the things you picked out for everyone. “Y-You can’t come!”
“What would your mum think if she knew you weren’t being polite to your guests?” he teased, and you groaned, pressing a hand to your forehead. He was right. Your mother would certainly be upset to find that you excluded one of your “friends” from the festivities on purpose. “I guess you’ll stop by to get me before you leave, then?”
“Fine. I have to go get dressed and gather a couple of my things before we leave so I’ll come by in a little bit. I still have to find out if Remus wants to come, too,” you told him, standing from the bed and smoothing down your sweatpants.”
“Alright, Darling. Don’t be too long,” he called as you walked through the doorway, pretending you didn’t hear him so you wouldn’t have to reply. Your chest tightened a bit at the term of endearment he always used rather than call you by your name. It always made your heart jump and butterflies flutter in your stomach. If only he really meant it. He was just like that with everyone, regardless of how he felt about them. 
Sirius Black didn’t like you. He was a womanizing jerk who couldn’t settle down even if someone paid him to. He was selfish and inconsiderate with other people’s feelings.
You shut the door to his room and turned down the hall to find Remus and your brother, most likely in the other spare bedroom where Remus would be staying. You approached the room across from your brother’s and knocked on the heavy wood, waiting for a reply before twisting the knob.
“Come in,” James called, and you entered, peeking your head in to see Remus shuffling through his trunk while James laid across the king sized mattress. “What’s up?”
“I was just about to head into town to get some last minute shopping done. I wanted to know  if either of you wanted to come.” 
Remus shook his head. You frowned a bit when your brother also shook his head, indicating that neither of them wanted to accompany you. Normally, you wouldn’t care if you had to go by yourself, but without Remus or your brother that meant you would be alone with Sirius, and that was most definitely not preferred.
“James and I are gonna help your mum with some Christmas baking. She’s letting us decorate the sugar cookies,” Remus told you. You were a bit jealous at that. Decorating the sugar cookies was one of you favorite Christmas activities, but you figured Remus and your brother had it covered. You nodded. “Why? Did you need someone to come with you?”
“No, I’m fine going on my own. It’s just that Sirius invited himself along and I don’t want it to just be me and him…” You sighed.
“Pads isn’t that bad. I don’t know why you insist on being so cold to him. He’s a good friend to all of us, including you,” James told you, as if you didn’t already know that. Remus nodded, and gave you a look that said all you needed to know about his opinion on the matter. Remus hadn’t forgotten about the night you broke down crying, sobbing about how you so desperately had fallen in love with the raven-haired boy and he would never feel the same way for you. 
You turned on your heel to leave the room, waving goodbye to both boys as you shut the door behind you with a soft click. You headed back down the hall to your room, pulling open the door to your closet and sifting through the rack of clothes. You eventually settled on an outfit. 
You slipped on your skirt, a sweater, heavy winter coat, and boots thick enough to endure the snow fall outside. You weren’t consciously dressing to impress, but looking over your ensemble, you wondered if you just somehow managed to pick clothes that you knew would catch the eyes of a certain someone, that being Sirius Black. You tried to convince yourself you didn’t care about his opinion, but you most definitely did. You wanted to look beautiful to him, for him to actually notice you as something other than the sister of his best friend. 
As far as you could tell, he thought of you as a sister, a younger one that he could push around and tease as he pleased.
You shook your head, mentally cursing yourself for having such ridiculous thoughts. Sirius was just a friend, a close friend who you could even consider family, even if he annoyed you quite often. There was no reason to get all dressed up for him. You certainly tried to tell yourself that as you applied your eyeliner and smudged it the way you liked it. You definitely told yourself that when you put on your most shiny lip gloss that smelled like candied cherries. Just a friend.
You grabbed your wallet, shoving it into your jacket pocket before leaving your room and heading to the door beside yours. You knocked gently, hoping that maybe he might miss the sound and you could leave on your own. He didn’t though, as the door quickly opened and you were met by dark hair and eyes to match. He didn’t let you see, but his eyes scanned your figure and he gulped, swallowing down his gasp at just how well you looked in your casual clothes. 
“Are you ready, Black?” you asked, and he nodded. You started down the hallway of your home, working your way down the stairs and out the front door, waving to your father on the way. He sat in the living room, as usual, reading the Daily Prophet. Sirius waved as well, bidding a farewell to your dad politely. 
The town was only a couple minutes walk down the road from your house, so you didn’t bother apparating there. You stepped outside onto the crunchy white snow covering the ground, sighing at the feeling of the winter air blowing past your face. You loved winter. It was so beautiful, with the white covering all the trees and buildings in a winter wonderland sort of way. Christmas was your favorite holiday as well. 
“What do you plan on getting for everyone?” Sirius asked, catching up to you as you walked down the sidewalk. 
“Probably a new novel for Remus. I’ll get James some quidditch equipment, some pads or something since he’s wearing down the ones he had now,” you told him. “Maybe I’ll get my mum some new earrings. She likes pearls so probably something like that. My dad, I’m not so sure about. I’ll have to see what he likes when I get there.”
He nodded in agreement. “Anything for me?” he finally asked, and you actually laughed. He furrowed his brow and poked you in the arm. “Why is that funny?”
“Because you’re a pain in my ass, Black, and you want me to get you a Christmas present?”
“Well, that’s not very nice of you,” he said, and for a moment, you thought he might actually be a little offended. You turned your gaze to look up at him, only to see him smiling a bit with the corners of his lips. You scoffed, shoving his shoulder with your own.
“Oh, yeah, and what did you get me?” you asked him. 
“Nothing. All you deserve is coal for Christmas. Not even Santa Clause himself would bring a nasty girl like you anything.”
“You are so rude.”
“Only for you, sweetheart.”
The walk to town was quite peaceful actually. The two of you teased each other endlessly, but there was no real arguing, not like you would find yourselves in Hogwarts when he would flirt with everything that passed him by. He was corrigible when in a private setting like this. It almost felt like the two of you were on a date as you window shopped. 
You two even stopped at a cafe on your way around, you getting a sweet cauldron cake while he drank some butterbeer straight from the tap. 
He watched you closely as you eyed down certain displays in the windows, taking note of what you liked and what you absolutely hated. He was particularly interested when you stopped and admired a piece of jewelry, a necklace with a gold chain and setting for the heart shaped, pink stone in the center. You stared at it for longer than anything else in the entire town, and he took note of that. 
You noticed the way he admired the record store, with all the old 60’s records lining the aisles. He liked the wooden record player, saying that he’d never had one of the muggle contraptions, even though he thought they looked pretty cool. They were classy, he said, just like him. You could only roll your eyes with a smirk, finding his ego to be quite hilarious. He always acted so cocky but really he was just as insecure as the rest of you. 
You had grabbed a couple things for everyone, Remus, your brother, your parents. You considered it a productive day out as you walked back home. He carried your bags even though you told him not to. It was endearing, and you felt your heart skip a beat when you caught him in the corner of your eye looking down at you with that gentle look in his eyes, like he truly enjoyed spending his time with you, regardless of how much you complained. 
You bid him farewell when you entered the house, hurriedly grabbing your bags and rushing off to your room, locking the door behind yourself so you could throw yourself into bed, practically screaming into your pillows. Why was he so wonderful? Why did he make you feel so special, like you were the only girl that mattered in the entire world? It made you feel like shit knowing that’s probably how he went through so many girls at Hogwarts, endlessly flirting with them until they felt just like you did. 
You weren’t anything special, you thought. You were just like the dozens of other girls he’d romanced. It broke your heart.
____
Christmas morning had come, and you were ready in your pajamas that your mum provided you, saying that you had to wear them for the family photos. Personally, you felt a little old to be wearing a set of pajamas that matched those of your twin brother, but your mother insisted. You were the green and red plaid set as you left your room and headed down to the living room where the most grand Christmas stood with all the little gifts scattered beneath it. There were gifts from your parents to everyone, including your guests. 
Your brother showed up second, followed closely by Remus and Sirius, who were talking quietly with each other as they entered the room, only to shut up when they noticed you sitting there on the carpet beside the wrapped presents. You smiled so brightly Sirius thought it might blind him. 
He was quick to mock your outfit of choice though. “17 and still matching with your brother, Y/N? Aren’t you a little old for that?”
You scowled and brushed off his comment, knowing he was just being a pest for no reason. Your parents entered the room, your mother holding a plate of cookies decorated quite messily by your brother and friend. You couldn’t tell what the one you picked up was supposed to be, perhaps a stocking or a Santa hat, you weren’t sure. Not that it mattered, it tasted delicious regardless. 
You opened some of your gifts, the first one coming from your parents. A new polaroid camera that you had been asking for, wanting to take as many pictures of your friends and you during your final year at Hogwarts as possible. Remus had gotten you a new cardigan, and your brother got you some perfume he knew you were running out of. You hugged everyone after opening each gift, thanking them brightly for what they had gotten you. 
They thanked you for the gifts that you got them, even if they were last minute presents. They still loved them. It wasn’t until James was reaching further under the tree before he found a couple more boxes hiding in the low hanging branches. One was addressed to Sirius while the other, a tiny box was addressed to you. 
You picked up the last gift waiting for you under the tree, shaking it gently when you noticed it was Sirius’ handwriting. You suspected it might be a gag gift, something silly or prank-like. He didn’t say he was going to get you a gift at all, much less something meaningful. 
But then again, you said you weren’t getting anything for him either. So much for that. 
He tore open his last present, blinking when he saw what was in the box underneath. It was a beautiful, new cherrywood record player, the same one he was admiring in the village when you went to the record store earlier that week. He stared at the box, and then lifted his eyes to meet yours. You refused to look at him, far too embarrassed. He wasn’t supposed to know you were the one that bought it for him. It was addressed anonymously for that reason. 
“Y/N, I don’t know what to say,” he stumbled on his words for perhaps the first time ever since you met him. He struggled to find the right thing to say. All he could muster was a “Thank you”, staring down at his present in awe. 
Secretly, while he was off looking at records in the store, you’d asked an attendant to send the parcel through the mail to your home so you didn’t have to carry it all the way home. That way, Sirius didn’t know you bought it for him either. You wanted it to be a surprise.
“I saw you looking at it, so it only made sense to buy it for you,” you told him, trying to fight the flames threatening to rise in your cheeks. 
“Well, you should open your gift too,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck as you looked down at the tiny box in your hands. You untied the ribbon on top and set that on the floor beside you. Hesitantly, you opened the box, revealing the necklace you’d been eyeing down in the store the other day, the one with the pink stone and sparkly golden chain. 
You looked at the chain for a moment, gawking at how stunning it was before lifting your eyes to meet Sirius’ gaze. You opened your mouth to say something, anything really, but no words came out. 
James whistled, peering over your shoulder at the piece of jewelry. “Wow, nice one, Pads. It’s just her style, that’s for sure,” he commented. 
“Thank you, Sirius. It’s lovely.”
“It’s nothing really. It was the only thing you really seemed to like when we went to the village together.”
But it wasn’t nothing, really. It meant everything to you as you clipped it around your neck, taking a hold of the pendant and admiring it. When you looked up, your mother was trying to get photos of the two of you, motioning for you and Sirius to sit beside each other. You couldn’t say no to your mother, so you sat beside Sirius, maintaining space between you two until she urged him to wrap and arm around your shoulders. 
You felt strange pressed to his side, smiling for the camera. It felt different, being by his side in his arms like this, as a family. For a moment, everything felt so perfect. Him holding you in his arms, your mother smiling brightly at the two of you while your father and brother watched content. Remus watched from the sidelines with that knowing smile on his face, one that made you flustered at what he was proposing behind that grin. 
You felt the same that night, when you climbed onto the roof of your house, on the old shingles. You laid back on the roof, staring up at the half moon above you with a sigh. The necklace hung from your neck, and you didn’t think you would ever take it off. It was your favorite gift you’d ever received, if you were being honest.
The window beside you opened and there he was, sticking his head out the window to find you, tilting his head to the side. “Do you always come out here?” he asked, and you nodded. 
He climbed out his window and laid down beside you on the just slightly sloped tiles, folding his arms behind his head. “What do you want?” you asked, sounding a bit harsher than you wanted. You bit your tongue from saying anything else that might come out worse than you intended. 
“Nothing, just wanted to see what little miss Y/N was doing all on her lonesome. Just watching the stars, huh?”
“It’s one of my favorite things to do, after all.”
“I forgot. You’re a total astronomy nerd.”
“I just like the stars, the way things align just perfectly.”
He hummed. You couldn’t see, staring up at the sky, but he turned his head to face you, watching your profile as if it was the most gorgeous sight he’d ever behold. He wanted to roll over and kiss you, to hold your cheek in his palm and press his lips to yours, to taste your lip gloss and the hot chocolate you drank after dinner. He wanted to brush your hair behind your ear and fall deeper into your soul. He wanted to drown in everything about you. 
The necklace he bought you looked just right around your neck, and he was happy you were still wearing it. He wanted everyone to know that you were his girl, the one that he’d given his heart to. He could care less about all those other girls when he had you, if only you were within arm’s reach. 
“Do you think the stars will ever align for you? Give you everything you dream of?” he asked.
“I think we all have to work for what we want. The stars don’t control our destiny,” you replied softly. 
He looked back at the sky with a smile across his lips, finally feeling at peace after wishing for so long that you would let him have a moment with you where you weren’t trying to argue with him or run away like you usually did. “Wise words from a wise girl.”
“Wise? We’re talking about me, not Moony,” you laughed, “I’m just as lost in life as you are, Black.”
“I might be lost, but I do know one thing. I’m glad to be here with you.”
“And I’m glad you’re here, too.”
Part Two coming soon
541 notes · View notes
sserajeans · 6 months
Text
just for a moment
hanni pham x fem! reader
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synopsis: you and your co-star are tasked to make a song for your web drama's soundtrack. your co-star happens to be a childhood friend whom you've had history with.
genre + others: lsrfm! reader, idol au, childhood friends to lovers, friends to lovers, fluff, second chance ish?
notes: not requested, PLS READ THE LYRICS IT'LL MATTER!!!!, how i look delaying yail update 😂😂, also yes another hsmtmts inspired oneshot, pics from @/wiotas
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"what do we even fucking write about?"
"y/n..."
"sorry..."
how did you get here? glad you asked!
it's the year 2025, and a team of producers at hybe are on the works for a minor project: a web drama promoting support for the lgbtq+.
you've talked about how odd it was to your best friend, and groupmate, yunjin.
"probably good for publicity, girl. like 'make everyone know we're not homophobic!' kinda thing." was all she had to say about it, which was likely true anyways.
you were convinced the casting was done at random honestly, but it was obvious they wanted a mix of groups to garner more attention. and that landed you the lead role with, you guessed it, ms. hanni pham!
why you two when you each had members who fit the actress role better? well, that's where you thought the random part came to play.
filming wasn't much of an issue. you were comfortable with hanni, and you two worked well on and off screen, just as expected considering your history. the director even pointed out your "remarkable chemistry", but she didn't have to know why it was that way.
as a matter of fact, you guys were about to wrap up in a few days. it was a wild past couple of weeks, but it was nice to get to spend more time with hanni again.
i mean, don't get me wrong, it's not like you two cut each other off when you moved to korea, but the talking definitely decreased, and the filming made up for lost time!
now, on one of the last days of filming, your respective managers sat you two in a conference room together, and dropped the news that you'd have to compose a new song just for the web drama's soundtrack.
the task in itself didn't bother you at all, and you were sure it didn't bother hanni too. you two were experienced in songwriting and composing, your names on a couple of song credits to count, so this was actually much easier than acting.
the issue was that you had enough going on for certain... feelings to resurface.
you see, the plot of the web drama hit a little too close to home for you. i mean seriously, childhood friends with feelings for each other, but couldn't take things further due to complications, then having to work together acting in some play.
it sounded a lot like your story.
hell, they even had your character do swimming! the same sport you excelled in back in australia.
the only reason nothing has gotten too awkward on that note yet, was because of your other labelmates being there like boynextdoor's leehan, minji and danielle, even your fellow members kazuha and yunjin.
with them around, you got to reconnect with hanni, but with a couple safe boundaries! now that you two were tasked to work on something alone though? you were scared things were going to be different.
so that's what brought you two here, together, in the music room. hanni seated facing the table with a pen and paper, you on the floor with your guitar in hand.
you were strumming to any chord shape that could come to mind in hopes of finding a melody that you could build off of, and hanni was tapping the end of her pencil on her forehead for any word, lyric, or rhyme that could work.
nothing came.
so engrossed in your respective tasks, the two of you didn't notice a shadow behind the translucent door, so when a knock came, you levitated off the floor for a millisecond, and hanni let out a soft yelp.
"hey you two~"
huh yunjin.
"how are my besties doing!" she came in doing a little dance, first walking over to check on what hanni was writing before landing on the floor beside you.
"we're stuck." you muttered, head against the wall behind you.
"oh... i see." yunjin shrugged her eyebrows in confusion, because she had just came from peeking over at hanni's notebook and was 100% sure she had lines written down.
"well, let's see... you got the genre down that suits the two of you so there's that. romance obviously sells, so there's that too. maybe you guys should try... writing while in character?" yunjin did her best to help the two of you, as the mutual best friend and seasoned singer-songwriter. "or if there's an experience you guys have had before, that would definitely help. real raw emotion ya know?"
"anyways," the eldest huffed and got up from the floor, messing up your hair and hanni's before heading for the door to leave the room. "i gotta get going. you two don't come home too late okay?"
you and hanni nodded before resuming. after a couple minutes, you realized that maybe you two will have to be communicating more if it meant writing a song together.
"hey han, do you have anything written?" hanni froze for a second before turning around on her chair.
truth was she did. she wrote them down specifically as yunjin started telling you two to write based on experiences.
"i... uh... kind of? just a couple lines, i don't know how i feel about them though."
"can i take a look? might help a bit."
"oh yeah... sure..."
there was a hint of hesitance in her voice, but it'd look awfully suspicious if she scratched out lines right before you'd check.
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"ah..." the initial reaction was surprise for you, and a million thoughts came racing through your head.
"yeah! it's nothing much... but i figured it was better than nothing...."
"no yeah! for sure! i'm kinda getting the vibe, wait here." you turned around and picked up your guitar from the floor and took a seat beside hanni. "uhm... okay let's try... this?"
you freestyled a riff on your guitar, allowing your fingers to move on its own to play what felt right. it resulted in one of the most simple yet enchanting melodies that seemed perfect for your song's intro.
"hey that sounds perfect! i love it!" hanni cheered and gave you a thumbs up. "okay so... since you're doing your little guitar intro, perhaps we have the first line written in your character's point of view?"
"sure... okay... uhm..." it took you a couple seconds to think of something, or to get in character on the spot. but then you remembered yunjin's advice.
an experience you guys have had before.
"uh... how's this..." you fiddled with your hands as hanni nodded along, telling you to go on with your suggestion. after about half a minute, you had a two-liner with some sort of melody that matched your guitar intro. "i fell in love with the only girl who knows what i'm about."
hanni froze for a second, which didn't go unnoticed by you, but continued nodding along as she wrote down the lines. "i like your voice in this genre."
"oh..." you looked up from your guitar and faced her side profile as she was still facing her notebook. you felt your face warm a little, but not too much for it to gain color. "that's a lot coming from you. i have your lee mujin service episode on loop."
hanni smiled, a sight you'd never get tired of seeing. "a fan, huh? which part's your favorite?" she turned to look at you, a smirk on her face to mask the flustered and proud version of herself having received praise for her work from you of all people.
she continued writing a line underneath yours, a sudden burst of inspiration coming over her.
"probably lucky."
of course it's the song about being in love with your best friend.
she chuckled at your answer. hanni wasn't dense, and she knew you weren't either.
okay maybe you were, just slightly, but you pick up on context clues.
but point is, she knew what that implied, and what everything that came between the two of you the past few weeks could've felt like for you.
but just as she was getting somewhere, her train of thought was interrupted by your "burst of epiphany", as one would call it.
"oh hey, hear this out. i think it sounds like chorus material." you tapped her shoulder and positioned your hands across the frets of your guitar. you sounded a lot happier, more energy than you did earlier in the day as you finally got a feel of what to write and play.
when we're underneath the lights, my heart's no longer broken, for a moment, just for a moment
in that moment, hanni's mind rushed with too many emotions. objectively, the melody was beautiful. your voice made it better, the guitar felt like it had a voice of its own, and the lyrics. god, the lyrics.
she knew for sure you felt what she felt.
the two of you stayed in that music room a couple more hours, discovering a new type of comfort in a person the other has always known. like reading a book you've had forever, and feeling a newfound joy in a character that has always been there.
by the end of the day, you and hanni seemed to have switched roles, your guitar in her hands, and her notebook in yours.
you were finishing up a final copy of the first half of the song along with chords in case you'd forget the sound. there was also a copy of the both of you singing on your respective voice note apps. (which, unbeknownst to you, would be on repeat for hanni later that night.)
"here we go." you sighed, it took a lot of effort trying to make handwriting like yours legible. you've always hated it. teachers back in elementary all throughout high school would always mark your papers low despite almost flawless answers, just for your handwriting.
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"i've always liked your handwriting..." hanni muttered as she admired your written work, unknowingly smiling to herself.
"oh.. thanks. i've always hated it."
"i know." hanni looked up at you, observing the sheepish smile on your face. she knew all about why you hated it, and she understood, but to her, it was an art. a part of you. she thought, "that's why i like it."
there was partial truth into that. besides it being a funny add-on to hanni's compliment, it's always been her thing to love stuff about you that you hated, even if it was something as small as handwriting.
back when you two were together (or whatever that was you had back in australia before you left, neither of you stuck a label on it), she'd always talk long speeches about how your handwriting was an art. something so significantly you that you shouldn't change, and that even if you hated it, she'd love it twice as much in place of you.
as you two shared a couple more laughs, a notification popped up on both of your phones. yours first, then hanni's a second later.
a snort accidentally escaped your system as you read the texts. "sorry.. is it yunjin?"
hanni let out the loudest laugh before nodding and exchanging phones with you to read what the older sent to the other. it was the same message in different forms, panicking to get you home before chaewon freaked out and took it out on yunjin, then proceeding to fear minji and her "wrath".
despite laughing at your member's worry, the two of you stood up to pack up, which really didn't take much anyways. you slid your guitar in its case, hanni hid her notebook in her bag.
walking out of the room to the lobby together side by side was probably the most stomach-churning activity of the day. and you literally had to write a love song about each other with each other. but there was something in the way it felt when your hands touched.
as you reached the part of the building where you finally had to part ways, the two of you faced each other. both expecting something, but not quite sure with what they were expecting.
"i.. uh... it was nice to reconnect today." she started off, awfully awkward at it too.
"yeah... it was..." you smiled, hand reaching for the back of your neck to scratch. a nervous habit. "i'll let you know if i think of anything tonight."
"yeah, same here." hanni nodded back, though a pinch of disappointment evident on her face. maybe she was expecting more, or maybe it was too soon. "see you tomorrow?"
"yeah... see ya." you slowly turned around, head racing.
should you say something? should you save it for another time? would it make things awkward tomorrow?
screw it. live in the present, right?
"han... for the record, my heart does still stop when i see you."
337 notes · View notes
ghostieyanyan · 4 months
Note
Is it ok if I can ask for a yandere Rollo Flamme? I like the idea of Rollo because he’s already based off a yandere villain so it makes sense. And I think Rolli would like to get close to Yuu cuz they don’t have any magic so they’re seen as ‘pure’ in Rollo’s eyes. Maybe Rollo can be seen trying hard to control his urges at the fireplace or he captured MC and tried to burn them at the stake like in the movie? Your choice.
hehehe... why not just add salt to injure? what if mc has pyrophobia, a fear of fire?
~Let the fire purify you~
Yan!Rollo x Pyrophobia!Mc
Warnings: Fire, burning, kidnapping, anxiety attack, chains, gag, breakdown,
~~~
Rollo hated magic... with a passion. A passion that burned so bright that hurricanes, rainstorms, floods, and tsunami together couldn't extinguish this flame of pure hatred.
How does no one sees the danger of magic? How many lives have to be taken in the hand of magic for people to understand this is a problem? He guesses that its one of humanities sin, playing dumb, playing ignorant, until it becomes someone they care about that gets hurt. its always like that... why could people just see things through his lenses BEFORE someone got hurt...
But for now, he just has to do gods work for everyone else, until they see things his ways...
He had a plan. a plan that will solve this problem before it could get worst. The plan to get rid of magic, from one of the most powerful mages in twisted wonderland, to the student "prodigies" of that sick, sinful school, to the townsfolks of Fleur city, to every inch of Twisted wonderland.
With this crazy plan, he'll make, no, he'll force everyone to see how he sees life should be. he didnt care on who got hurt-
until-
he met Night Raven College's gem in the rock, their Perfect. When all the students were introducing themselves, when it was your turn. He swore the world stopped and he would have swore on his life that he saw wings and a halo on you. You looked, spoke, and acted like an angel. you even allow these sinful... beasts... breathe the same air as you. then you have an ACTUAL beast as a familiar. don't tell grim that.
your heart and soul must be made out of pure gold. he has to protect it at all cost. he will use his own body to shield you from magical blast and then some to keep your purity in tact. he will move mountains and redivert lakes, rivers, seas, and oceans for you. Rollo Flamme will make you into his deity that he worships.
~
All the students decided to split into groups and explore Fleur City, after they got changed.
to say Rollo thought you looked breathe taking in your glorious masquerade outfit was an understatement. he was about to come up to you and compliment you, maybe even starting small talk with you but a certain lizard decided to be the first to do so...
Of course that monster would be charmed by an angel like you. Evil loves to tempt with good.
no matter, he'll just have to see you another time but if he gets too busy..? He'll make time for you.
~
Rollo lead you into his office, you didn't mind too much because he was telling you all about the school's history and art. it is a really pretty school, it gives very romantic feelings.
when you finally made it into his office, you froze at the doorway at seeing the fire place. Rollo quickly notices and puts out the flame with a very helpful near by bucket. You were grateful that Rollo was very accommodating to your fears.
you thanked him and sat down across from him while Rollo sat in his chair.
"I'm very sorry for asking you to meet me at this ungodly hour but i just needed your input on something and if i didn't ask you, i would have had a sleepless night tossing and turning." Rollo said as he got everything on his desk organized.
"hehe, its alright. I just happen to have a restless night myself.. but i don't mind the company."
"oh my that sounds awful. what seems to be troubling you?"
"w-well.."
It was really hard to tell someone you only just recently met that you had a "bad feeling" about something and how so far, in twisted wonderland, its always comes true...
"well.. i think... maybe, its just the 'sleeping at a new place' feeling and I'm just not getting use to it. but I'm sure its fine. heh.."
"hmm.."
Rollo seemed satisfied with that answer and continues, by leaning towards you on the desk.
"i know i asked you about this before, but id like to discuss it with you more in depth... hmm?"
since Rollo put out the fire place, there was only a small lamp on the desk to shine light in the room. you kind of wished that the fire place was still lit... cause everything in this scenario was telling you to run and never look back..
"o-okay..? what would you like to know..?"
Rollo smiled and leaned back into his chair.
"as a magicless student in a full school of magical.. mages, aren't you scared they might... turn and hurt you..?"
the way he worded that made you feel more unnerved.. you trusted your friends in Night Raven College. Even the ones that did try to hurt you, they still came to your defense and help and protected you when you needed them.. you trusted them with your life and having this man tell you "you shouldn't because they can use magic" was... laughable...
"no.. because they've earn my trust and I've earn theirs..!"
"Earned..?"
Rollo's face darkened as you stood up from the chair you were sitting in.
"I'm sorry Rollo. Thank you for your hospitality but i have to go."
you start walking to the door but stopped.
"with however you feel about magic, i wont sit down and let you disrespect them just because they possess a special ability and i don't. It doesn't make them less of a person. Magic or no magic."
you walked to the door but before you could even touch the doorknob, you feel a body press against your back, pinning you against the door. you couldn't even move, much less move the door.
"I'm sorry my sweet angel~... i guess.. I'll just have to show you myself then~"
you see a quick purple blur and then tightness around your throat. Rollo was using his signature purple and gold handkerchief to strangle you! you tried to struggle. you tired to jab your elbow into his chest but his uniform was too thick for it to do any good.
You started to feel light headed then everything you saw was slowly turning black. the last thing you saw was Rollo, and the insanity in his eyes.
~
you had so many questions...
why you? was it because you don't have magic so you were "easy"? aren't there other people in twisted wonderland without magic? you just happened to go to a school "for" magic users so of course you'll see it a lot.
what's so bad about magic? ya it almost killed you here and there but it also almost killed either the user or other people around you.. but afterwards everything would have been fine. Plus you didn't blame the magic for those situations. you couldn't even say you blamed the user. some deserved the blame.. but not everyone..
how did you get here..? probably from your big mouth, you should have been smart when you were talking to Rollo. he was already giving you weird vibes and you just had to make it worst
you had more questions but you knew none of them would get answered..
you started to slowly open your eyes..
where are you..? what's this sound..? why cant you move..?
you slowly looked around, you remember this place... Rollo showed you, with your friends. the big bell, the bell of Solace. you noticed that you were alone though..
you looked around some more, you looked out from where you sat on the floor. it was dark out but with an orange hue... was the sun rising..? what's going on?
you went to take a step, to look out but something stopped you. a cold hand..? no..? a chain?!
if you weren't fully awake then, now you are! the chain was short, at least 2 feet long from the floor, it was attached to both your ankles. you could only go so far out.
what happened?! what's going on?!?
you started breathing heavily, tears started to form. you felt so confused, so lost. someone, anyone, please hel-
"oh my dear! you're awake."
your blood became ice, you looked up to see an uncomfortably happy Rollo.. he had a basket of breads and fruits.
"i was so worried that you'll never wake up. I'm very happy you did~"
with a heavy chest, you spoke.
"what's going on, Rollo!? Why are we here? why am i-?"
"oh within time my dear angel~ we just have to wait for those flowers to do their miracles. in the meantime, eat. you've been sleeping for a while and-"
"flowers..? what are you-...? Rollo...."
you took a deep breathe to try to settle your nerves.
"Please, Rollo... I'm scared. please tell me what's going on."
he looks at you and sighed, placing the basket down on a near by table. He then walked over to you and sat beside you, motioning you to come closer to him.
You did. you don't really have a choice right now..
"I'm making our perfect little world my love~ our paradise~"
you looked at the man like he was crazy. he was, at this point. But he continues.
"the Crimson flowers, the one that looks like fire, the flowers i shown you when you toured the city, they have the ability to take a mage's magic until they are just magicless people.. like you."
you stared at him but he kept smiling.
"magicless.. like me..?"
"yes my dear, then everyone in this world would have to understand magic is like a poisonous weed that has to be pulled out. or it'll spread to the other crops."
you just stared. you couldn't bare to keep looking at him so you turned to look at anything else..
magicless like you... no.. this isn't right. this cant happened!
Rollo thought the conversation was over and sat up to get the basket.
"Before this started, i made sure to get some food. i thought you'll be hungry so-"
"...mon...ster..."
Rollo froze. he was facing the backet and didn't turn around.
"excuse me..?"
you stood up, leaning against the wall, as best as you could. You knew your big mouth was gonna put you in a tough situation again but- what were you suppose to do?
"you, Rollo Flamme, are a monster."
he slowly turned to you, his eyes screamed murder. even if your body is shaking, from fear, from anxiety, from anger, maybe all of them at once's, but you kept your eye contact with Rollo.
You knew a comment like that will hurt him. you knew you couldn't physically harm him but you just wanted to hurt him like he planned to do the same to everyone you cared for..
the silence was deafening.
Rollo took some slow steps to you and leaned down to your level.
"take. that. back."
"no. cause i didn't say anything wrong.."
you hear Rollo take a deep breath and he quickly snaked his hand to grab the nape of your neck. you let out a gasp, from the sudden movement. he straighten his posture and brought you to his eye level.
"it's seems that those... mages.. have filled you with their poison. I'll just have to purify you myself. don't say i didn't warn you, my angel.."
he dragged you to a window and made you look outside. the entire city was filled with those flowers but... the looks of those flowers... made it look like you were in the middle of a raging firestorm. you felt your stomach drop. you felt cold shivers, and you didn't even realized that tears were falling. when you looked more, you noticed that the "fire" was slowly climbing the tower you were in.
you were about to let out a blood curdling scream but you were stopped by Rollo tying that purple handkerchief into a makeshift gag for you.
After that, he threw you, face down into the ground. Your body was shivering from fear so intensely, to the point that it feels like you lost complete control over your body. you couldn't even fight back when Rollo tied your hands together.
"i, really, am sorry for this my sweet angel~ but i have to get rid of the poison that those mages put in you... you have to be purified."
Rollo walked off and came back holding a fireplace poker. it was glowing red and you could see smoke coming off of it. where he got that, you didn't know but your attempt to get away from him was met with a wall against your back.
you felt your head spin, you were trembling to no return, the hot tears wouldn't stop, and the makeshift gag he put on you was now soak with tears, saliva, and snot.
Rollo kept walking towards you, in an agonizing slow pace.
"don't worry, my angel love~ after this, all will be forgiven~"
when he went to grab your face, he-
"MC!!"
those are.. familiar voices.. you know those voices..
"tch.. i suppose your punishment will have to wait my love. apparently, ill have to finish these pesky mages off myself."
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pastadoughie · 3 months
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incase 1 of you needs 2 hear this :
a)
ai art is shitty and explotative, and while i dont think that neural networks are bad as a concept, they can be done ethically, but at this point every single large company that has ai shit is doing it in an extremely shitty way. art that is posted on the internet isnt yours to steal and make profit off of. you do not get to take the art of unconsenting random internet users, throw it into a shredder, and sell 7.99 a month subscription packadges for people to be able to eat some of the dust it spits out.
while i previously was more lax on people on reposting my art so long as they credited me, i ask that you not fucking repost my art, under any circumstance if you are on a platform that is scraping art, or on a site that is not properly set up to deal with scraping. the only acception to this is commisions where you have explicitly asked me.
this includes tumblr.
b)
reposting without credit is always bad, even if you dont know who to credit. you should under no circumstance be posting artwork that isnt your own without giving people a way to see the artist, and you need to link it in a way that is ACTUALLY USEFUL, give multiple links to multiple platforms, do not use 3rd party link shorteners, include mirrors and archive captures, provide a plain text spelling of usernames for every platform you link to, ask for explicit permission of the artist, opt out of any ai generation tools. or if you are on a platform that does not allow for this do not post it at all, and you have to have all of this very clearly visable and easily readable
if that is too much effort for you then you shouldnt be posting it. with literally zero exceptions.
c)
biological sex is not real and people can do whatever the fuck they want with their own bodies, even if you deem it as "self harm". under no circumstance should you take away peoples bodily autonomy, someone could literally be sawing their arms off for funsie wunsies and i would still say they need to have freedom and privacy, and it is ultimatly THEIR call what they do with themselves.
gender is similarly also not fucking real, people can dress however they want, fuck whoever they want, and use whatever words to describe themself with that they want. and if you think that boys wearing dresses or some shit is somehow harming you then you are ligitimately fucking pathetic. if i fucking ran a political campain saying everybody wearing a scarf was a pedo and a rapist and we need to ban scarfs forever would you fucking vote for me? are you that scared of people being able to? do what they want? jesus.
d)
genocide is bad. regardless of who does it.
regardless of the scale of cruelty, there is nothing that a group of people from a certain state, ethnicity, religeon, ect, can do that justifies murdering civilians. there is never a justification for genocide.
implying, under any circumstance, that someone is somehow evil for their background, appearance, religous beliefs, country of origin, sexuality, gender, ect. is shitty or worthy of violence because of that is, and i cannot stress this enough, fucking disgusting. nazi shit. even.
e)
i do not support zionism. i do not support antisemitism. i do not support racism.
also the iof is actively commiting a genocide. you should donate to a relief fund for people currently suffering from this, as well as call your house and senate members. as have i.
f)
people often times claim that people they dislike, largely minorities, are pedos or rapists or something of the sort. this is something that has been happening for, and i cannot stress this enough. all of fucking history. people were fucking saying these exact points, verbatim, to argue in favor of SLAVERY okay? if you are spouting the exact same shit as fucking nazis and colonizers and slave traders, then consider, you are a horrible fucking person.
you have to be EXTRODENARILY SKEPTICAL when accusing a minority of a serious crime, and spreading information about it. because if a bigot can just say "oh theyre a pedo" and you believe them at FACE VALUE then guess what? you are just as much of a bigot as they are. minorities are people, and people do terrible things, but just like you should be doing with EVERYBODY, you should be actually looking into things before you accuse someone of being a shit person, and often times, you are not knowlagable enough about someone to make those kinds of claims anyway.
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pilotispunk · 4 months
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All Access, Chapter 1
All Access Masterlist | Ko-Fi | A03 Link
Pairing: 70s rockstar! frankie morales x f! reader
Rating: 18+ (explicit, minors do not interact)
Word Count: 6.4K
Summary: It's 1975 and you're one of the rare women given the opportunity to write for Rolling Stone. When you get the opportunity of a lifetime to travel with the hottest band in the US, Triple Frontier, you're welcomed into their den of sex, drugs, and rock and roll. But what happens when you fall for their bass player and it becomes more than just a story?
Content: explicit drug use, heavy partying, triple frontier as rockstars, eventual smut, 1975 au
A/N: Thank you so so so much to my beta readers @heythere-mel, @proxima-writes, @nostalxgic, and @pedropascal-whore I am so insanely, eternally grateful you have no idea! Thank you to anyone who has been waiting for this story since it was just a random idea in 2022. I hope you all enjoy it and it makes you sing as loudly as Santiago.
TRIPLE FRONTIER: FROM BATTLEFIELDS TO CENTER STAGE
As the dust of the Vietnam War settles, a new sound emerges from its ashes. Four war veterans—Santiago, Benny, Will, and Frankie—unite under a new banner, Triple Frontier, capturing the soul of a generation seeking peace, love, and rock 'n' roll.
Triple Frontier's latest self-titled album strikes a chord with raw passion and unflinching honesty of their previous work. We can trace their meteoric rise in the music world back to their time serving together in the Vietnam War, an experience that has left an indelible mark on each member and seeps into every note they play.
At the forefront is Santiago Garcia, the charismatic lead singer with vocals matched only by his charm and stage presence; Behind Santiago, Benny Miller lets loose on the drums, laying down the heartbeat of their sound. Will, Benny's older brother on lead guitar, is the soul of the band. He's intuitive and artistic with the guitar akin to Robbie Robertson.
And then there's Francisco Morales on bass. The stoic backbone of the group, his basslines are more than just musical notes—they're lifelines. His bass weaves the music together like a thread that ties each member of the band.
Tom Davis, their manager, has been instrumental in their rise. A fellow vet, he understands their shared history and has transformed their raw, visceral tales into a finely-tuned musical odyssey. Speaking about their journey, Tom says, "These boys have stories that the world needs to hear. I'm just helping amplify their voices."
The band's name, Triple Frontier, references the tri-border area in Southeast Asia—a location many veterans from the Vietnam War will recognize.
Despite the weight of their past, or perhaps because of it, Triple Frontier brings a refreshing authenticity to the rock scene. Their music isn't just entertainment; it's a balm, a therapy, a reminder of the indomitable human spirit.
As they gear up for their nationwide tour, one thing's for certain: Triple Frontier is here to stay, and they're just getting started.
Despite your boss stating he just needed a simple puff piece about Triple Frontier, whenever you reread that review you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride when you saw your name in print in Rolling Stone. It wasn't the first time, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.
You were on the fast track to doing something big at Rolling Stone by the time you were thirty, you could just feel it. After freelance writing post graduation from college, you landed an entry-level job at the magazine. You knew what you were getting into, the long hours and the male-dominated office could be a lot at times, but you were living the dream as far as you were concerned. To write about music and make it your living was a gift you never wanted to take for granted.
It was a Tuesday afternoon and you were done at work surprisingly early. You lugged your 1969 Dodge home and immediately went to the back patio to light a joint. You slunk back in your chair, inhaling deeply from the joint, and watched the sun dip lower behind the tree line; the warm glow of the Los Angeles sunset never got old. As the smoke filled your lungs, you felt the day slowly dissipate.
The sound of your phone ringing jolted you out of your high-induced stupor but you heard your roommate Jenna flit across the house and yell "I'll get it!" before answering. You took another deep pull off the joint and exhaled, watching the smoke dance around the sky as it faded out.
You heard Jenna call your name from inside. You walked into the kitchen and saw her standing with the phone receiver in her hand, she was looking at you with an expectant expression.
"Who is it?" You asked.
"Some guy named Tom Davis? Sounds foxy." She grinned at you and wiggled her eyebrows. You rolled your eyes and swatted her away before taking the phone from her.
"Hello?"
"Hey! I hope you don't mind me calling you at home. Your work number was listed in the phone book, but I didn't know if you'd want to take this call in the office or not. Figured home was probably better."
You had talked to Tom a month back for the Triple Frontier article. You remembered him as a no-nonsense type of guy who didn't beat around the bush, so you knew even though he was calling you at home it wasn't for a dinner party.
"No, that's okay. What can I do for you? I hope the article came out okay?"
"That's actually why I'm calling, I wanted to thank you again for doing such a great job. The guys really loved it and the boss did too. And we've had some new interest in the band and they think an interview series might be a good way to build some buzz during the tour."
You felt excitement bubble up in your stomach. You didn't want to be presumptuous and assume this was an offer, but you also didn't want to say no.
"I'd love to write more about them! I'm not sure if you just want a song by song review or..."
Tom chuckled on the other end.
"Nah, nothing like that. I know this is actually last minute but we're playing a show at the Troubadour on Friday night and we'd love for you to come. I've already cleared it with your editor at Rolling Stone if you're game."
You tried not to sound too eager. Of course you knew about the Troubadour show, it had been sold out for months. You knew this wasn't an easy ticket to score or an opportunity that just falls into your lap like this.
"I would be an idiot to say no."
"That's what I like to hear! I'll be in touch with more details, but I'll have your ticket and backstage pass ready for you on Friday night."
"Awesome, thank you so much."
"Thank you, we'll talk soon!"
He hung up the phone. You stood in the kitchen with the receiver in your hand. You felt like someone had just punched you in the gut, you couldn't believe it. The Troubadour, backstage passes, exclusive interviews... it was the break you'd been waiting for.
This was real rock journalism, the rock journalism your mom cried over when you said you wanted to move out west and pursue this as a career.
Will Mom still think you're dabbling with the devil if your name is under the biggest story for Rolling Stone with the hottest band in the country?
-------------------------
By the time Friday night rolled around, you felt like you had a permanent case of butterflies in your stomach. It wasn't often you had the opportunity to attend a show and not write about it, so the fact that you had no other reason for going besides seeing the band was enough to set your nerves on fire. But meeting them?
You'd spent the whole week building scenarios in your head - Would these guys even take you seriously? Would they see you as just another fan? Were they even that interesting to interview, or were their music and looks all there was to them?
You shook the thoughts from your head as you walked up to the Troubadour. The line outside was already around the block and you could feel the energy from the crowd. You saw women with long hair down their backs in tight jeans and crochet tops, some men with hair even longer than theirs and dressed in flared pants and vibrant shirts. You could already smell the weed wafting off some people.
As you approached the bouncer at the back door, he glared at you, intimidating and unwavering.
"I'm here to pick up a press pass from Tom Davis." You tried to exude confidence, even though you felt the opposite. He arched his brow at you before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a paper.
"Name."
You gave him your name and also added what you thought would cement your legitimacy. "I'm with Rolling Stone."
He looked over the paper before his eyes settled on your face.
"Right. This way."
The man turned and opened the door behind him, beckoning for you to follow.
Once inside, he led you through the dimly lit back corridors of the club. You were immediately welcomed into a heavy musk of smoke and sweat. You passed other roadies carrying guitars, amps, and microphones. You felt the excitement rising up again and you had to remind yourself to act cool.
He led you into a dressing room with a large group of people. Everyone had drinks in their hands and seemed to be chatting amongst themselves. The walls were covered in posters and various band members from over the years had scrawled their names on the walls where Tom was seated, reading over a sheet of paper.
"There she is! Good to see you." Tom immediately spotted you from the crowd, his tall and imposing figure stood up and made his way over to you. He was wearing a black leather jacket and his hair was pushed back with gel. He looked every bit the rocker, and you couldn't help but wonder if he always dressed like that. With the band but not in the band.
He reached into his back pocket to pull out a laminated press pass. "Here you go, this should get you access to whatever you need."
You took the press pass and held it up, smiling. You were still in shock.
"I can't thank you enough, Tom. This really is an honor."
Tom chuckled and clapped a hand on your shoulder. "Honor's ours. We're looking forward to the piece."
"Speaking of pieces, If you're gonna write about the band you might as well meet them. Come with me."
He started making his way toward the back of the room. As he passed, the people parted to let him through. You followed closely behind, trying to not lose him.
He led you towards a cluster of men in the corner. They were talking amongst themselves, beers in hand and laughing. You recognized Benny–the drummer–from the album cover, by his shaggy, dirty blonde hair. He was bouncing off the soles of his feet, drumsticks tucked in his belt loop, and was the center of the circle.
Will was leaning against the wall, his long blonde hair tucked in a bun. He had a cigarette dangling between his lips and a guitar pick in his hand, fiddling with it.
Next to Will, Santiago was sitting on a couch, his arm draped over the back with a glass tumbler in his other hand. His eyes shined as he was talking to the other boys, taking his hand to smooth out his jet-black hair.
It was true what every girl said - his pants were as tight as his voice.
And then there was Frankie.
He was standing next to Santiago, a beer bottle hanging loosely from his fingertips. He was leaning on his elbow on the wall behind Santiago, listening to Benny.
He was handsome. His brown hair was covered in his signature baseball cap, and the stubble along his jaw along with his mustache gave him a rugged look. You couldn't help but notice the muscles underneath his thin shirt. You could see his arms flexing underneath the material, his fingers wrapped tightly around the neck of his beer.
He was the first one to notice you, looking at you before he did Tom. His eyes were dark and unreadable, but you could tell he was assessing the situation.
"Boys," Tom boomed, "I want you to meet the writer from Rolling Stone."
Santiago and Will turned their heads in unison, but Frankie's eyes stayed fixed on you.
Santiago's smile broadened, and Will raised his eyebrow and nodded. Frankie's expression didn't change.
"Well, hey, welcome to the party." Santiago stood up and extended his hand. You reached out and took his, shaking it. His hand was soft and his grip was firm.
"Nice to meet you." You tried to sound confident.
"You've already met Tom, obviously," he gestured towards Tom, who smiled at you, "and this is Will and Benny, and that's Frankie."
Benny smiled at you, and Frankie's eyes flickered over to Santiago as he said his name, but he didn't speak. You had a feeling this was his way of letting everyone else talk.
"Nice to meet you all, I'm a huge fan." You offered them a friendly smile.
Benny spoke up, "Well then, I like you already. You'll make us look good!"
Tom looked down at his watch and then snapped up at the guys. "Shit–we have ten minutes before showtime, you guys need to get down to the stage."
They started moving and shuffling: Will stubbed his cigarette out in the ashtray, Benny put down his beer, and Santiago tossed back his drink. Frankie had disappeared into the crowd, leaving you to watch them all go by.
Tom turned back to you, "What are you doing? You're going down with us. ‘Can't write about the show if you aren't there."
You felt the rush of adrenaline surge through your body. Your face broke out into a huge grin.
"Yeah, right. Okay."
Tom smiled and turned, heading for the door. You followed him, trying to keep up with his strides. Backstage was a flurry of activity and you felt like you were on a hamster wheel trying to stay out of the way. You couldn't help but stare at the scene before you, the lights and the sounds, the smell.
After navigating through the throng of people and equipment, you found yourself on the side of the stage, the lights dim and the sound of the audience humming through the floorboards. While Tom had stopped to talk with one of the lighting guys, you could see the boys getting into their instruments and tuning up.
You looked over and saw Frankie. He had taken off his hat and was carding his hand through his thick hair. His mouth was turned down into a frown, but you could see the glimmer of his eyes.
He looked up at you. Your breath hitched and you could feel your cheeks start to burn. He held your gaze for a moment before turning away and putting his hat back on.
Suddenly, the lights dimmed and the audience erupted in cheers. The guys, including Tom, went into a huddle and you slowly inched yourself closer, not wanting to miss this moment.
You heard Benny shout, "Let's get it done tonight, boys! Let's give the fans what they came for."
You could see Santiago's grin spread across his face, "This is our mission. Our job. Our purpose."
Tom placed his hand into the middle, "I'm proud of you, boys. Now, let's go fucking rock this shit."
They put their hands together and Santiago began to sing "Stop, hey, what's that sound..."
Like a ritual, the rest of the men in the circle sang "Everybody look what's going down."
With that, the boys dispersed and you felt so lucky to be in that moment. You feel their connection, their comradery, their love.
You saw Tom pat Benny on the back. "Showtime!" he boomed. Benny ran onto the stage and the crowd roared. You could hear the clatter of sticks in the air as Benny hit the cymbal to start playing their song "Echoes".
The rest of the guys filed onto the stage and you were immediately struck by the sheer energy radiating off the crowd. They were cheering, clapping, dancing. There was so much movement and excitement and you felt the hairs on your arms stand up.
The band started their set with a bang. You watched as Santiago worked the crowd, his voice smooth and strong. He walked slowly, confidently, swaying with every step. The crowd was eating out of the palm of his hand.
You'd never experienced a concert like this, being able to watch from the sidelines and take in everything. The lights, the sound, the way the crowd responded.
Your eyes drifted to Frankie. He was focused and precise with his guitar, his hands moving effortlessly across the strings. You watched the muscles in his arms flex and strain as he played along with the concentration in his eyes.
The rest of the concert flew by. Before you knew it, the band was finishing up their final song, and the crowd was going crazy. You watched as Santiago, Frankie, Benny, and Will took their final bows.
The audience screamed. Santiago leaned over and spoke into the microphone, "Los Angeles, thank you. We love you! Goodnight!"
And with that, the lights dimmed and the guys filed off stage. Tom turned and motioned for you to follow as he led you to a different area where the guys were drinking bottles of water and catching their breath.
Benny was sweating, his face flushed red. "Man, we really fucking killed it."
Santiago grinned, wiping his brow. "You bet your ass we did. That was one of the best shows we've done."
Frankie was leaning against the wall, a bottle of water in his hand. He was drinking it slowly, his eyes looking up and meeting yours.
Will looked over at you and gave you a wink. "Did you enjoy the show?"
"Oh my god, yes. That was incredible." You were trying to be professional, but your excitement was starting to show through, an excitement that Santiago could start to see through.
Santiago clapped his hands together. "Excellent. Now that we've broken your legs, I think it's time for the afterparty. Are you coming with us?"
"The afterparty?"
"Of course," Tom chimed in, "you don't have to go, but it might give you some time to chat with the guys more and get some quotes. These things tend to be a good time so I can also book you a room, on us. It's at the Chateau Marmont."
"Holy shit."
"That's the spirit." Santiago winked.
You hesitated, knowing how big a decision this was. The idea of the afterparty excited you, but it was also a chance to spend more time with these guys. To talk to them one-on-one and maybe get some insights that would really sell the article.
You took a deep breath and looked around the room, at the guys waiting expectantly.
"Alright, count me in."
You could have sworn you saw Frankie's lip twitch up into a smile.
-------------------------
The afterparty was at a bungalow at the Chateau Marmont and it was a mess of people, noise, and debauchery. You tried to take it all in but you just couldn't. There was too much happening at once.
You found a bar top to sit at, watching the scene unfold. Santiago was at the piano playing some old jazz tunes and laughing with gorgeous women surrounding him. Tom was chatting up some record exec, a scotch in his hand. You even saw Benny and Will having an impromptu arm wrestling match in the corner. Frankie so far wasn't anywhere to be found.
The music, the lights, the alcohol. All of it was almost overwhelming and you were starting to wonder why you decided to come.
This world of excess and debauchery was so foreign to you, a far cry from the quiet solitude of your apartment where you usually did your writing. You've been to parties but nothing like this. You thought about your male coworkers at Rolling Stone, who seemed to fit seamlessly into the rock and roll lifestyle, effortlessly bonding with their subjects over shared experiences and unspoken understandings.
You focused on scribbling notes in your notebook, trying to make sense of the chaos around you and organize your thoughts about the concert. The more you wrote, the more your head cleared, and you found yourself able to better compartmentalize everything you'd experienced.
As you were finishing up your notes, you felt a tap on your shoulder.
"Hey."
You turned and saw Santiago standing behind you. He had a bottle of Jack Daniels in his hand and his eyes were slightly bloodshot.
"Hey." You replied.
He moved to stand beside you, looking at the party in front of you.
"What are you doing over here by yourself? Having fun?" He asked, taking a swig of the whiskey.
You shrugged, "I guess I just wanted to take everything in, get a feel of the scene. "
"Through your notepad?" He asked, gesturing towards your notes.
"Yeah, uh, it's easier for me to write things down."
"Ah," he took another swig, "can I ask you a question?"
You looked up at him. He was staring down at you, a smirk on his face.
"Sure."
"Why do you wanna write a story about us?"
It wasn't the question you were expecting. You had prepared for a list of generic questions like how you got into writing and your favorite bands, but this one caught you off guard.
"Because..." You hesitated, not sure how to answer, "...because I think you guys are cool."
Santiago smirked, leaning in.
"Cool? That's it?"
"Yeah," you said, feeling slightly defensive. "I think you guys have something special."
He chuckled to himself, taking a joint from a walking passerby, and taking a hit. "That's what they all say."
"All who?"
"People, the press. They all want to write a story about the cool, rebellious, rock and roll band, but the thing is, no one ever actually gets it."
"Maybe because the people who write about you are only interested in the glamorous lifestyle and not the reality of it."
He cocked his eyebrow.
"The reality?"
"Yeah," you said, closing your notebook. "I don't want to write a story about what I see here. This is a party, a show. It's not what's real."
Santiago studied you for a moment, and you felt the tension in the air between you. It was as if he was trying to read you, to figure out what made you tick.
"I'm here to witness the magic, the brotherhood. You can feel the bond between you guys: it's real, it's tangible, it's magnetic. People come to see your shows to see it. Shit, people come to the Chateau Marmont at 1 AM to see it. People want more."
You met his gaze, unwavering. You weren't going to back down.
He laughed, taking a step back. "Okay, okay. I believe you."
You smiled, relieved.
"But I'm gonna let you in on a little secret…Tom? He's over the moon, hunky fuckin' dory that you're writing this piece, but the truth is? We're a little skeptical, a little worried. We wanna look good but we also don't want this to be a puff piece. You've convinced me though, I believe you when you say you wanna do something different. So here's the deal - if you want the real story, the one that matters, you need to prove it."
You swallowed.
"And how do I do that?"
He smirked, gesturing to the crowd. "Come hang with us, chill out, see how we are when it's just us. If you can do that, I'll tell you whatever you wanna know. If you wanna get to know the real us, you gotta dive in."
Santiago offered you the joint, and you took it from him, putting it to your lips and inhaling.
He grinned. "Welcome to the team."
You hesitated for a moment. You wanted to get the real story, the one that mattered, but you were afraid. What if you didn't fit in? What if the guys didn't like you?
But Santiago had a point. You needed to prove yourself, and what better way than by actually hanging out with the band?
So you sucked it up, took a long drag off the joint, and threw caution to the wind.
----------------------------------
You weren't sure how much time had passed, but the party was still in full swing. The doubts and fears that plagued you had floated away along with your sobriety. Santiago had been a great host, introducing you to people, making sure you had a drink in your hand, and keeping the conversation going. You'd lost track of how many drinks you'd had, but you were feeling good.
He'd also gotten you better acquainted with Will and Benny. Will was reserved but he was incredibly knowledgeable about music, and you spent most of your conversation talking about some of the more obscure bands you both liked in common. With Benny, he was the life of the party. He had an infectious smile and was quick to laugh.
Frankie was another story entirely.
Frankie had eventually been found at the party but he'd stayed off to the side, talking quietly with a group of people, occasionally smoking a cigarette or sipping from a glass. You watched him throughout the night.
He'd glance at you from time to time, his eyes dark and unreadable. His gaze would linger, sending shivers down your spine. You would try to catch his eye, but he'd look away before you could make contact.
A model that you recognized from a cover of Cosmopolitan pulled out a baggie of coke and offered some to everyone at the table. You politely declined and headed for the bathroom.
You walked around the hallway and saw a few sets of doors. You opened a door to see Tom sitting on the bed, the phone cord stretched across the room.
"Of course I'm thinking about this damn offer, it's all I can think about. Fuck, I just don't know if this is the right move. If I had another band under my roster the boys would kill me, but the money they're offering? It's the kind of money we can't turn down."
You tried to back out of the room quietly, but sobriety be damned, the heel of your shoe clicked loudly on the hardwood floor as you tripped. Tom turned, his eyebrows raised and his expression a mixture of surprise and concern.
You mouthed an apology and quickly made your way out of the room. Humiliation and embarrassment flooding through you, you decided you needed some air.
You made your way outside, the cool air hitting your face. You inhaled deeply, trying to clear your mind and slow your racing heart. You only had a bit of context but you knew that wasn't a conversation you were supposed to hear.
You sat down on the ground, resting your head against the wall. You could feel your body relax, the tension easing from your shoulders.
As you closed your eyes, the events of the evening replayed in your head. The music, the energy, the excitement.
Suddenly, you felt someone sit next to you. You looked over and saw Frankie, his expression still unreadable.
"Hey."
"Hi." You tried to sound casual, hoping the high pitch in your voice didn't sell you out.
He lit a cigarette, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly. The smoke curled in the air, dancing in the breeze.
You sat in silence for a moment, watching the smoke drift away, trying to distract yourself from the man in front of you.
"Having fun?" Frankie's voice was low and husky, his question caught you off guard. "What do you think of all of this so far?"
"It's definitely not what I'm used to."
He chuckled, and you couldn't help but smile. He took another cigarette from the carton, offering one to you.
You took the cigarette from him and he lit it, the flame flickering in the darkness. You felt the smoke fill your lungs.
"What are you used to then?" He asked, his eyes locked on yours.
"Lighting a joint at the end of a long day, writing a draft for an article, and throwing it in the trash. Sitting at home alone and wondering if I'm ever gonna break out."
Frankie smiled. "We're not what you expected, huh?"
You laughed, shaking your head. "Not at all."
You took another drag of the cigarette. The combination of weed, whiskey, and nicotine was making your head spin, and you couldn't stop the giggle that escaped your lips.
Frankie smirked.
"Lightweight."
You nodded, leaning your head against the wall. You looked over at Frankie, his profile illuminated by the moonlight. He was handsome, his jawline sharp and his lips full. His hair was tousled under his hat and his stubble was perfectly trimmed. You could see the muscles in his arms flex as he brought the cigarette to his mouth, and you felt your breath hitch.
You looked away, feeling a blush creep up your neck. You weren't sure if it was the alcohol, the drugs, or his presence that was making you feel so flustered.
"What are you doing out here anyways?" You asked, trying to distract yourself from the butterflies in your stomach.
Frankie shrugged, the corners of his mouth twitching. "I could ask you the same question."
You laughed, the alcohol and weed finally settling in.
"I was feeling a bit overwhelmed, I needed some fresh air."
Frankie nodded, understanding. "I'm not really one for big parties."
"Is that why you weren't around earlier?"
He gave you a curious look. "You really are quite the observant reporter."
You grinned. "I'm a professional."
He smirked, your gaze turning back to the sky. You couldn't help but feel his eyes linger on your skin, you felt like you were burning up.
"I'm just not a huge fan of the crowds. I like the music, the shows, but the parties are sometimes too much."
"I can understand that."
"Can you?"
You looked at him, surprised by his question. "Of course."
He raised his eyebrow. "How so?"
You shrugged. "I've had my share of experiences. Not quite like this, but enough that I get it. Sometimes I'd rather just sit back with a joint and observe it all."
Frankie's lips twitched into a small smile. "Me too."
You couldn't help but smile back. He seemed much less guarded now.
You took another drag of your cigarette; the smoke swirling around the two of you.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Frankie glanced at you, the corner of his mouth twitching again.
"Sure."
"What brought you into music? How'd you end up here?"
He considered your question for a moment, tapping the ashes of his cigarette.
"Well, I just always loved music. I was a quiet kid and my parents weren't around a lot. Santi moved to Miami when we were eight and we just immediately hit it off. Whatever he did, I did. If he joined the baseball team, I joined the baseball team. And then he started playing guitar. We'd sit in his garage for hours and play. I never knew I wanted to be a musician until then. It just felt right."
He paused, taking a long drag of his cigarette.
"How'd you get into journalism?"
You froze. The truth was, you had no idea. You just always felt drawn to writing. You had a knack for it and it came easily to you. You never had any grand plan or vision, it was more like a calling.
"I guess I just felt called to it. I was always writing stories as a kid and then I wanted to write about real people and real stories."
He studied you, his eyes searching yours.
"So far, do you like my story?"
You grinned, "I don't know your story yet."
He smiled, exposing a dimple as you felt your heart skip a beat.
"It's been a long time since I've actually talked to someone like this."
"Me too."
There was a moment of comfortable silence. You could hear the sounds of the city around you, the cars honking, the music and laughter drifting from inside. Suddenly, you heard the door open and Tom stepped out.
"Some chick from Apple Records just threw up on my Italian boots. This is a disaster."
Frankie rolled his eyes. "You've had worse, Tom."
Tom groaned. "I'm gonna call it a night. You guys have that radio station interview tomorrow and I need to get ready for it in the morning."
"I should probably get some sleep too." Frankie stretched out and yawned, his shirt riding up and exposing a strip of skin above the waistband of his jeans.
You felt your mouth go dry and quickly looked away.
"Did you get the room key I left for you?" Tom asked you. "We rented out the whole second floor, so you've got your pick of rooms."
"Yeah, thanks." You dug into your back pocket, pulling out the key.
"I gotta clean this shit up so I'll see you guys in the morning."
He retreated away from the cottage, leaving you and Frankie alone once more.
You stood, dusting off the back of your pants. "I guess I should get some sleep, I'm pretty wasted."
"I'm heading up myself, so I can walk you to your hotel room."
"Oh, okay." You said in a high-pitched tone.
"Unless you don't want me to."
"No! No, I want you to, I just wasn't sure if you wanted to say goodnight to the guys?"
"They're honestly too fucked up to remember anything right now. Besides, I'd rather make sure you get there safe."
You blushed, the alcohol and weed still affecting you. "Thanks."
You and Frankie made your way back into the main building, the party still raging on from the cottage nearby. While you walked through the halls and into the elevator, you marveled at the luxury of the famous chateau. You'd heard so many stories but to say you'd gone to a party there, even for a couple of hours, was something you’d never forget.
The two of you got into the elevator, and you were acutely aware of Frankie's presence. He was tall–at least a foot taller than you–and his shoulders were broad and muscular. You could smell his scent, a mixture of spice, nicotine, and citrus.
The both of you got off on the second floor, walking silently down the hallway. The hotel was dark and quiet; it was as if the rest of the world had faded away.
You reached your room, fumbling with the key and unlocking the door.
"This is me."
Frankie nodded. "Good night."
You stepped into the room and turned around, watching as he walked away.
"Good night."
You watched him disappear around the corner, the butterflies in your stomach erupting again.
Once the door had shut behind you, you exhaled a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You were still buzzing from the alcohol and the pot but there was something else, an energy that you hadn't felt before.
You stripped off your clothes, letting them pool on the floor, and crawled into the bed. As you drifted off, you felt yourself smile.
-------------------------
You were jolted awake by the shrill ring of the hotel telephone. Before you could even think, your head was already pounding from last night and its excess. You squinted at the clock next to you, the bold white words focusing on 9:30 AM.
"Hello?" Your voice was hoarse and still heavy with sleep.
"Morning! It's Tom." Tom sounded surprisingly chipper given last night's circumstances with his Italian shoes. Not one to beat around the bush, he started, "I have a proposition for you."
You were instantly alert, sitting up straight in the bed. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
"I had a long talk with Santiago this morning. About you."
You swallowed nervously. You knew that whatever it was, it couldn't be good.
"Okay.."
"He told me that you really want to tell the real story of the band, that you want to get to the bottom of who we are."
You paused, considering your words carefully.
"That's correct. I think there's more to your story, more than meets the eye."
"That's exactly what I thought, which is why I have an offer for you."
You held your breath. You didn't want to seem eager but you couldn't help the excitement building inside of you.
"I'm listening."
"Rolling Stone wants an in-depth piece, right? Well, what better way to get that than by joining us on tour?"
Your heart skipped a beat as his words sunk in.
"You mean..go on tour with you guys? Be a part of the band?"
"It's the only way to really understand us, right? Get into our world, our culture, and experience it for yourself. I already pitched it to your editor and he said as long as the label pays for expenses and you're game, he's game."
You were astounded at the things that Tom Davis could get done before noon.
"But..how would that work? Where would I stay? I don't have any experience touring or writing on the road."
You took a deep breath, processing everything Tom had just told you. "I'd be lying if I said that this wasn't an incredible offer."
"An incredible offer you can't refuse?"
You couldn't help but smile, the adrenaline coursing through your veins. "An incredible offer I can't refuse."
Tom let out a hearty laugh, "That's what I like to hear! Look, we've already discussed it amongst ourselves, and as for accommodations, we're a tight-knit group, we always look out for one another. You'll have a place to crash every night, always a nice hotel to stay in."
Your mind was racing with possibilities. The chance to immerse yourself in their world, to witness their artistry up close and personal—it was an opportunity unlike any other. "What about interviews? Will I have unrestricted access?"
Tom nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. We want this to be as authentic as possible. You'll have full access to everyone in the band, backstage, on the bus, wherever we go. Just promise me one thing."
"What's that?"
"Promise me you won't hold back. We want the real story, the gritty details, the highs and lows of life on the road. Don't sugarcoat anything."
You nodded with determination. "I promise, Tom. I'll give it my all."
"Good," he said with a satisfied smile. "I have a feeling you're going to fit right in."
As you pressed down on the end call button, a surge of adrenaline shot through your veins. This was it - the opportunity to delve deep into the core of the band and capture their raw energy in words for all to experience. Just thinking about it made your heart race, and as you thought of Frankie, you felt an unfamiliar warmth in your belly.
You'd have a new adventure ahead of you, one that would change your life forever.
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semisolidmind · 11 months
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How does the Modern Reincarnation AU work in the Twice as Bad AU? Especially with MK and everything? I know it would probably be completely unlikely that Peaches would get the opportunity to die with her two monkey hubbies always around her, but what if her dying happened on the journey? Like her death was something that happened while the monkey demons were restrained and couldn't do anything about it, causing them to wait the couple hundred years until she pops up again?
(Also, I can't begin to tell you how grateful I am for your creativity and art! You're awesome. Hope you have a great day! 💙)
oh man oh boy (also thank you skye, you're making my day :))
(so both monkeys have wrist and ankle cuffs in this au, and the cuffs work like a less harmful version of the circlets. anytime reader says a certain command, they throw the demon wearing them to the ground. i imagine that the moment reader dies, the cuffs fall off.)
it's utterly silent when they hit the ground.
the boys are distraught. they're inconsolable. theyre angry. whatever demon caused reader's death will be torn apart peice by peice, tortured until death. and then...
...nothing. the monkey demons shut down beyond an occasional terse word. they're still technically bound to the journey by the circlets and the bodhisattva's command, and so they continue on. they only speak to their companions when necessary. macaque spends most of his time in the shadows, and wukong walks behind the group. they take out their sadness and rage on the myriad demons that get in their way. the journey concludes with wukong and macaque denying their enlightenment and going home to flower fruit mountain.
their conquests become especially brutal for the next couple hundred years.
–––
centuries later, mk comes into the world. wukong finds him wandering the mountain, and adopts him as his own. macaque is an uncle figure to the boy, helping in his training and teaching a different worldview. mk grows up knowing very little about humans beyond what his monkey family tells him. regardless, he's curious and wants to know more.
the two elder monkey demons are jaded, and their resentment for the celestial realm and humanity has only grown. though, they'll both slip into wistfulnesss occasionally, telling mk about reader and what she was like. he heard plenty of stories about her growing up, and he always finds himself wishing he could have met her. it's the only time mk will hear his caretakers speak positively about a human.
when mk asks to go into the city, wukong refuses. he doesn't want his son around any mortals, and were it not for his "infinite mercy," that wretched city would be dust by now. it's only when macaque agrees to go with mk that wukong relents. macaque, who's somewhat more knowledgeable about modern humans than his brother, tells mk what he knows about how the mortal world works. mk doesn't get the chance to make his friends until later in this au, when he's allowed to make short solo excursions into the city to buy groceries.
he's taking too long on a run when it happens.
mk has encountered mei, and thinking the dragon heir was trying to start a fight (given the monkey demons' history with dragons), mk battles her. while the two have their brawl that eventually ends in tentative friendship, macaque waits at a rendezvous point.
when mk doesn't show after twenty minutes, macaque lets out a long-suffering sigh and sets out across the roof tops and alleyways to search for him. the kid, for all his strengths, has never been good at time management. after a while, macaque is able to track him to a little noodle shop in the downtown area.
the dark-furred simian watches from a nearby rooftop as mk and...a disguised dragon? girl? go inside the shop. macaque melds into the shadows, following them in through the half-shuttered doorway. the shop isn't anything to write home about; simple decor, simple noodles, a suspiciously familiar pig demon manning the kitchen, a woman managing the register—
macaque stops cold.
it only takes a second for macaque to get a read on the woman's soul. and upon closer inspection, she looks familiar too.
heartbreakingly familiar. same hair, same eyes... same smile, aimed at mk as she welcomes him. this woman—she's their reader, reincarnated. she has to be. mk makes a joke, something about monkeying around, and the girl laughs; the same joyful sound he remembers from all those centuries ago. it's the same. she's the same.
a shadowy tear makes its way down his incorporeal face. she's here. alive.
he has to tell wukong.
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