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heavenlyvision · 7 months

Text

More than friends

Word Count: 21.9k

Pairing: Johnny Cage x F!Reader

Read part one ˗ˏˋhereˎˊ˗

A/N: Okie dokie ! It is finished,,, I hope you all enjoy it and that it lives up to your expectations. I apologise for it taking so long ! I've been struggling with motivation to write lately but I am pretty proud of this big one and thank you for being so patient !!! <33

Summary: Temporarily living with Johnny has it's challenges, especially since he still isn't being upfront about his feelings or your relationship.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, mentions of anxiety/panic attacks, mentions of stalking (ex), alcohol consumption, minor harrassment (ex), mental instablity (ex), minor mentions of violence, arguments, mean!Johnny, possessive/jealous!Johnny, reader has a nightmare, masturbation, thigh riding, biting, cunnilingus, grinding, creampie (?), minor dacryphilia, vaginal fingering, minor overstimulation, no use of y/n

MDNI

The past few days with Johnny have been good, you have mostly been watching movies and playing board games. He offered you a deal – for every movie you watch, you have to watch one of his after. A fine deal by any means… if you hadn’t already seen them. Being friends with Johnny means watching all of his movies at least once but it seems like staying here has given him the opportunity to make you watch them all again.

If he hadn’t been so kind and you weren’t so worried about being ungrateful or overstaying your welcome, you would complain and kick up more of a fuss but all in all, you don’t really mind. It’s not like his movies are bad… okay, some of them are definitely not good but he’s still in them so you don’t really mind. He’s a good actor and a good-looking man so it makes sitting through the lesser of his films bearable, that and he’s always so happy when you watch them together, how could you turn him down.

You needed a break from his movies though, which has resulted in a game of trivial pursuit and while you can’t prove it… you think he’s cheating, “This isn’t fun when it’s only two people playing,” you complain.

He’s leaning back on his palms and smiling cockily at you, you’re both sat facing each other with his coffee table in between, the game sat atop and looking at it, you can see just how far behind you are.

“You’re only saying that because you’re losing,” he snickers back at you.

You scowl at him, “Who knows things like…” you pick up another card and read it out, “When the first movie trailer was shown?”

He lightly rolls his eyes, “1913 and plenty of people would know that!”

“No! People don’t just know that?” You’re exasperated with him; he has to know that’s not common knowledge and it’s odd that he knows that off the top of his head.

He shrugs at you, smug smile on his face, “I guess I’m just that good.”

You squint at him, annoyed that he is apparently a trivia god, “Or just that odd.”

“I may be odd but you’re the one dying to get fucked by me,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You groan at him and feel yourself grow hot in the face, “Whatever, just pick a new card.” You flick the card you’re holding at him and he laughs as it falls flat before hitting him.

He’s incredibly happy with himself, now using your desire for him as some kind of punchline. He’s not touched you again, not since the incident on the couch. It’s not like you’ve not made your move either, you’ve tried enticing him and every time he looks so close to folding before he gathers himself and moves forward. For a man who flirts relentlessly with you, he sure does have a lot of self-control.

Your phone buzzes on the table and you pick it up to look, face immediately twisting into an expression of displeasure.

“You good?” Johnny asks.

Placing your phone down, you look to him and answer, “Mhm, yeah… it’s just work.”

He raises a brow at you, “Again?”

You hum at him because yes, again.

Work has been messaging you fairly frequently to see if you’ve gotten ‘better’, you haven’t gone back yet, you used a few of your sick days so you could get some time off after the traumatic event of your ex breaking into and trashing your apartment but management seems to be getting pissy with you, so you will have to go back soon.

Something that had surprised you was Johnny also taking a few days off work to stay with you, you think he’s apprehensive about leaving you alone, which you can’t blame him… you don’t really want to be alone. You haven’t told him that though, you would never ask him to put you above his work.

Johnny sits up, no longer leaning on his hands, “What did they say?”

“They’re just asking how I feel… if I’m better,” you hesitate slightly, “I think I’ll go back tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you should.” He replies quickly.

This is not the first time he’s shown upset at the prospect of you going back to work, “I have to, I still have to pay for my apartment you know.”

He looks at you sincerely, “You know I would pay for anything you need me to.”

“And you know that I’m not comfortable with that,” you retort.

He’s offered to cover the cost of everything for you multiple times now and every time he brings it up, you shoot him down.

“I just don’t love the idea of you going back there, not with your ex still…” his face turns up in disgust, “Existing.”

You chuckle slightly, “It should be fine.”

You say that but you are worried about possibly running into him too, you don’t know if he’s still lingering around your neighbourhood or not. Which, speaking of your apartment, you’re waiting to hear back from your landlord on whether or not the door has been fixed.You’re also dreading having to go back though, you’ve been putting it off for days now. You were supposed to go back for pyjamas but instead Johnny has been letting you live in his shirts.

“Just take tomorrow off, one more day,” he gives you puppy dog eyes. When you don’t immediately reply, he adds, batting his eyelashes at you, “For me?”

Your lips downturn at his stupidity, “Ugh fine, just stop looking at me like that.”

He smiles brightly at you, “Cool! We can watch more of my movies tomorrow.”

You shoot back, “Don’t you have a job?”

“Making you watch all my movies is part of my job,” he jokes.

You whinge out at him, “But I’ve already seen them all~.”

“And now you’re watching them all again~,” he mocks you, smile big and with how proud of himself he is, the weight of his pride might crush you.

“You’re lucky I think you’re cute,” you grumble.

He chuckles at you, “Is that the only reason you’re watching all my movies? Because you want to sleep with me?”

“I’m not going to say you’re completely wrong,” you tease.

He places a hand over his heart, “Do you like any of my movies?”

“Your movies, or movies you’ve starred in?” You clarify.

He’s examining you carefully, “Both.”

You don’t have to think about it, “I like your movies,” you admit, “But you have starred in some questionable ones.”

He points a finger gun at you, “Touché.”

“Are we done playing yet?” You lament, referencing the almost forgotten game of trivial pursuit.

“Are you done pretending you still have a chance at winning?” He counters.

“Never.”

He rolls his eyes playfully at your stubbornness, “What if I said I’d fuck you right now if you’d admit you’ve lost.”

Your heart stutters in your chest and if you felt like he was being serious, you would fold and tell him he’s the all-time winner of trivial pursuit but you know him and you know he’s only teasing, “I’d tell you that you’re being mean and that I’d also sooner die before admitting premature defeat.”

“That’s a real shame,” he hums.

You’re getting annoyed with him; he keeps doing this to you. Relentlessly teasing you with no follow through, not even so much as a kiss. You get up on your knees and shuffle over to him, you end up right in his lap, his hands move to your hips instinctually.

He smirks at you, “And what are you trying to accomplish right now, doll?”

“You’ve been really mean, Johnny,” you pout at him.

“How can I fix it?” he asks.

You feel timid, shy, “You can stop pretending like the other night never happened.”

He’s serious as he answers, “I’m not pretending anything; I know it happened.”

“You’ve not even…” You trail off, now worried that you read into things too much and that you’re still just friends.

“Sugar, I’ve not stopped thinking about it,” he confesses.

You hesitate but probe, “So, you still want me?”

He almost has an air of confusion about him, baffled by your doubt, “Never stopped.”

“Then why haven’t you even kissed me again?” Your brows upturn at him.

His hand moves to hold your face, his thumb stroking high on your cheekbone, “Worried I’m not gonna be able to control myself.”

You lean into his hand slightly, “Don’t want you to.”

He groans, “See, you saying stuff like that doesn’t help,”

“Can I have one kiss?” you mimic the way he bat his eyelashes at you earlier, tacking on, “Please?”

He groans at you, pained, “How could I possibly say no?”

His hand on the the side of your face tilts your head and his lips brush over yours, the small contact electrifying to you. It feels like it’s been so long since he’s kissed you and being this close to him is making you dizzy. He teases you with his proximity, holding you close but never actually kissing you. Just as you’re about to huff out in annoyance at him, he pushes his lips to yours.

The kiss is hot, his mouth insistent and full, your shock gives him the chance to stick his tongue inside your mouth, licking at you. You moan into him, your body relaxing completely, incredibly content to be placated by his lips. His hand on your hip holds you tight, his fingers digging in, attempting to ground himself.

His own moans are muffled by the kiss, you’re affecting him just as much as he thought you would. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, knowing if he keeps kissing you, he’ll lose his mind and end up making you cum for him in anyway he can think of. You whinge as he pulls back and he can’t help the incredibly smug expression on his face at the sound, forever feeling self-pleased by how needy you are for him.

He purrs at you, “Happy?”

“You could make me happier,” you retort.

He only chuckles at you in response before asking, “You gonna admit to losing trivial pursuit?”

You frown at him, “Absolutely not!”

“Then sit your ass back over on your side of the coffee table and answer your question like a good girl,” his tone is a teasing kind of firmness.

You plant a single full kiss on his lips before crawling back over to your side, Johnny’s eyes stay glued to your ass as you shuffle across the carpet. His mind immediately filling with images of his cock pile driving into you while your back is arched for him. This was supposed to be a wholesome game and now he’s thinking of fucking you into the carpet while making you answer trivia questions.

You grumble at him, “You’re so mean to me.”

“I’d feel worse about it if you didn’t seem to enjoy it so much,” he’s incredibly glib right now, completely correct about his effect on you.

“You’re wrong,” you try denying.

“Really?” he raises a brow to you, “Because I seem to remember your pretty little pussy gripping my fingers awfully tight when I was ‘mean’ to you.”

Your face heats up again, “Just pick out a card,” you mumble.

His grin is Cheshire like, “Whatever you want, sugar.” He picks up a new card, “What is the literary term for a word that describes a sound?”

You know this one and you smile brightly, “Onomatopoeia!” you point at him excitedly.

He laughs at your excitement, “You got it.”

You have a small celebratory moment to yourself before you pull out a new card, “If you know this one I’m gonna scream.”

He’s confident in his trivia abilities, “Get ready to yell, doll.”

You read from the card, “What is the year of the first recorded flight?”

“1903,” he smiles cockily, completely sure that he’s right.

And he is, you glare at him and grumble out, “You’re correct.”

“I know,” his tone is self-satisfied.

You don’t win trivial pursuit but you do take pride in not giving up, you may not be good at trivia but you’re proud of yourself for seeing it through. Some may call it stubbornness but you think it shows strength to sit there and try like hell to win even when defeat is right in front of you. You gave it your best shot and you had fun. You will get better at trivia though… he won’t be winning next time. Not that you’re competitive or anything.

✰ ✰ ✰

In the morning you’re woken up by your phone buzzing by your head, sleepily you squint at your screen and see that it’s work trying to call you again. You grumble annoyed at how persistent they are but relent and answer.

“Are you feeling better yet?” Your managers voice is sharp and his question is straight to the point. You’re a bit taken aback by how direct and grumpy he is, you don’t even get to say anything before he continues, “Listen, we’ve been swamped here, unless you’re actively dying, it would be best if you came in. Best for you I mean.”

You don’t miss his threat, your job is now on the line if you don’t go in but with how he’s being such a dick you try to negotiate, “I can come in tomorrow.”

“Today would be best,” he sighs, you don’t answer him and he grunts at you, “Fine, come in tomorrow, if you’re not in tomorrow, you’re getting cut from the roster.”

“Alright, see you–” he didn’t even let you finish your goodbye; he’s already hung up on you. Bastard.

You stare up at the ceiling, your mood for the day already completely ruined, you feel badly because you know you’re lying to work and they do need help but you’re also having a hard time bringing yourself to leave Johnny’s apartment, let alone go back to your neighbourhood. The thought of him being there sends a cold spike of anxiety through you, he did all that to your home, what is he planning to do to you? It’s a frightening thought.

You lay motionless on your mattress for a while, too anxious to go back to sleep but also too tired to get up. Clattering can be heard in the kitchen though and you’re concerned as to what Johnny is attempting to do so you haul yourself up, out of the bed and into his kitchen.

When you make your way into the main area you can see Johnny making pancakes… you think? Mostly, it just looks like he’s making a mess, “What are you doing?”

“Shit–” He jumps at the sound of your voice, dropping the spatula he was holding onto the ground, “I wasn’t expecting you to be awake so early,” he mumbles out as he bends down to retrieve it.

Your tone is amused as you ask again, “What are you doing?”

“Making breakfast,” he sighs.

You walk over to him and see he’s made a complete mess of the kitchen; he’s used far too many bowls for what he’s made. He also seems to have made up some pancake mix two separate times before using the one he is holding now.

You come up beside him and look over what he’s doing, “Why did you make so much mix?”

“The other ones had a weird texture,” he’s focusing hard on tipping some of the mix into the pan.

You want to comment on how he could be doing things better but you’re so appreciative of his efforts and you don’t want to sound like a know it all. But you can’t help but cringe as the bowl slips a bit and gets all over his hand.

He groans out, “I dunno how you did this so effortlessly, I’m killing myself here, doll.” You’re distracted by how he lifts his hand to his mouth and licks some of the batter off, he notices and smiles at you knowingly, moving his hand in front of your face he asks, “Want a taste, sugar?”

Wordlessly, your wrap your lips around his index finger, sucking it clean. Johnny groans at the sight of it, not expecting you to be so willing, he was only joking around but now you’re gently suckling on his finger and he’s about to pass out over it.

You pull back slowly and kiss the tip of his finger when you’re done cleaning it. He’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars in the sky and you can only huff out an amused laugh at him.

“Move over,” you shoo him away, “I will make the pancakes, you can start cleaning up,” you reach out for the mixing bowl he was holding.

He hands it to you reluctantly, “I was trying to make breakfast for you.”

“And I appreciate it so much but you’re going to make a mess of yourself if you continue,” you place the bowl off to the side and flip the pancake that was still in the pan, it’s too thick and also a little extra crispy thanks to the both of you getting distracted.

He comes up behind you, his arms trapping you against the bench, he leans in over your shoulder, “Would you clean me up if I did?” His words are suggestive, far from innocent.

You turn it back on him, “Would you let me?”

His head drops to your shoulder, resting there, “I want to, doll. Bad.”

“You’re the only one stopping it,” you hum out, focusing on the task at hand, trying to ignore how close he is to you.

He stays close to you as you make the pancakes, his hands move from the bench to your hips, his hands hold onto you, lightly pawing at you, “Why are you up so early anyways? I thought I had more time.”

“Work called me again, woke me up,” you mutter, already knowing Johnny’s going to be pissed that they’ve rung you again.

“Was it that asshole again?” He asks, referencing your manager.

You flip a pancake over in the pan, “Yeah, they’re short staffed and need my help.”

Johnny’s arms wrap around you more, holding you to him as his head turns into your neck, “I hope you said no.”

“I did but I feel bad, I have to go in tomorrow,” you tell him.

“You do not, not if you aren’t ready to be back there,” his arms squeeze you just the tiniest bit tighter, comforting you. He knows how frightened you are to go back to that neighbourhood.

One of your hands reaches down and holds his hand for a moment, “I appreciate the sentiment but I do have to go back, he threatened my job.”

“He what?” Johnny bristles behind you, moving to stand tall, turning you around to face him, “What the hell did he say?”

“It’s nothing that bad, he just said it would be ‘best’ for me if I came in tomorrow,” you wince slightly as you repeat your managers message.

Johnny’s scowl deepens, severely pissed off with your manager, “He’s such a dick, I don’t like him.”

“Not many people do but I can also understand his frustrations at the moment, plus… I’m not even sick, so…” You feel sheepish and you turn away from him, pouring the last of the batter into the pan.

Johnny scoffs from behind you, “So what? As far as he’s concerned you are sick and it’s not like you’re taking the time off for kicks. After what you’ve been through, you deserve some time off.”

He’s making you feel emotional, you don’t like thinking about what happened too hard, it’s still too fresh. You purse your lips and focus on the pancake sizzling in the pan instead of the slight burn in your eyes from holding back tears.

He places his hand on your shoulder, “You deserve to go to work without fear.”

Now why did he go and say that? You can’t help but cry silently as you flip the pancake, you’re trying so hard to hide it, blinking away your tears as soon as they form. Johnny knows though, he knows he touched a sore spot for you but he was genuinely only trying to help.

“Oh doll,” he sighs out at you, pulling you into his arms. You turn into him and cling on, needing the comfort right now. He lets you cry into his shirt for a moment, your tears no doubt soaking into the fabric. His hands rub up and down your back, trying to soothe you.

You remember the pancake though and sniffle into his shirt, “The pancake is going to burn.”

He takes the spatula from you and flips it onto the plate, “All better,” he places the utensil back down and moves his other hand back to you, “You worry about the silliest of things.”

You laugh dryly into him, “So do you.” He holds you in his kitchen for a bit as you will yourself to stop crying, you’re worried about the pancakes getting cold, “Hot pancakes are better than cold ones.”

His hands stop moving on your back and his head tilts down to you, “Is that your way of telling me you want to eat the pancakes now?”

“I am worried about them getting cold,” your face is still pressed into his shirt, your words slightly mumbled.

He shrugs at you, “I’m not.”

You make a face that he can’t see, it’s one of displeasure, “You should be… cold pancakes are bad.”

He dismisses, “They aren’t that bad.”

You’re still teary eyed but you pull back and look at him with as serious an expression as you can muster, “Cage… don’t eat cold pancakes.”

He smiles at you, happy to see your face again. His hand cups the side of your face, “There she is, my pretty doll.”

His words make your skin grow hot and you look away, he’s smiling big though, always happy to embarrass you.

You look at the pancakes on the bench, “Let’s just eat, yeah?”

“Whatever you want, sugar,” he pulls his hand away but not before booping the tip of your nose gently.

You sigh at him but move around the kitchen getting ready to plate out breakfast, Johnny comes up to your side and stops you, “Go sit down, I’ll plate it up.”

“But–”

“Don’t ‘but’ me, you ended up making them all so go sit down,” he points over to the breakfast bar.

You want to argue with him, about how you didn’t put nearly as much effort into making them as he did. How he did the most annoying part but based on the look on his face, you wouldn’t be able to convince him to let you plate it up anyways. So, you sulk away and around the bench, perching yourself atop the stool and wait for him to give you your pancakes.

As you watch him move around the kitchen something occurs to you, “Did you tell me the wrong cabinet when I was first here just so you could see my ass?”

He stands to face you, his smile sly but his tone faux offended, “I would never do that, how dare you.”

You roll your eyes at him and his response, “You would do that.”

“Can you blame me? You’ve got one hell of an ass, sugar,” he places your plate down in front you, wiggling his eyebrows as he does.

You try to be offended but you end up feeling complimented, “Thank you,” he smiles deviously at you and you squint back at him, “for the pancakes, not your gross compliment.”

“Ah, but you took it as a compliment,” he throws a wink your way, his demeanour pleased.

You roll your eyes at him and eat your pancakes, they aren’t bad. He did an alright job with the batter… third times the charm, it was just the actual cooking part he seemed to have the most issues with. Well… that and the mess he made.

You realise he spent his time clinging to you instead of cleaning like he was supposed to, “You didn’t clean…”

“I got distracted,” he mumbles, mouth full.

Not looking at him, you reply, “You do that a lot.”

“Stop living here and it won’t be a problem anymore,” he nudges your arm with his elbow.

“Alright,” you agree easily, you’re only staying for as long as you’re welcome.

Johnny doesn’t flinch, “No.”

You turn to look at him, questioning look on your face, “No?”

He still doesn’t look to you, mindlessly eating his breakfast as he explains, “Yeah, no. Keep staying here, I don’t mind being distracted.” He turns to you and smiles, “I like it, actually.”

His smile and words fluster you; you’re still concerned about overstaying your welcome though. Turning back to your food you mutter, “If you get sick of me and need me to leave, tell me, I’ll go.”

“You are always welcome in my home, not gonna ask you to leave, doll,” he picks up his plate and walks into the kitchen, stopping behind you to press a kiss to the crown of your head, “Not now or in the future, stay as long as you like…” he puts his plate in the sink, “…hell, stay forever.”

“I’m not staying forever,” you giggle, taking it as a joke.

He smiles fondly at you, “Do whatever you like, you’re always welcome here.”

✰ ✰ ✰

Waking up is hard, especially since you know you have a shift later, one you are none too keen to do. Images of your ex grabbing at you, of you punching him, the feeling of the impact, it’s all still so fresh in your mind and the idea of maybe running into him, or worse, him waiting for you, is horrifying. You might have to look for a new job but you like where you are, you like your co-workers. It’s also convenient, within walking distance from your apartment but now think that may not be such a bonus anymore, especially if you decide to move.

You’ve been considering getting a new place but your apartment is rent controlled and a decent price and it’s close to everything, moving is such a hassle but the idea of going back there and living day to day life frightens you. You’ll be constantly on edge in that apartment, you know what needs to be done but that doesn’t make it easy.

Lying in bed and thinking about this isn’t going to make it better though, you’re just stressing yourself out. You groan dramatically to the empty room as you pull yourself out of bed, your limbs feel heavy. If you had your way, you’d stay in bed a little longer but you know Johnny will be leaving for work soon and you want to see him before he goes.

You find him looking like a mess in the hallway, trying to shuffle himself out the door, his phone is balanced between his ear and shoulder, fingers fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. He smiles when he sees you, mouthing a good morning. You smile back at him and shoo his hands away from his shirt, one drops to his side and the other hold his phone properly.

There’s some kind of issue with one of the actors in his films, you could probably gather more if you weren’t distracted by his skin peeking out from under his shirt. His voice is stern on the phone, a tone you’ve only heard a handful of times, one that’s rarely, if ever, directed at you. You want him to stay home and have his way with you right now but you’re starting to gather that the begging isn’t really working as well as you want it to, that and you do actually have to go back to work today.

When you’ve buttoned his shirt you pat his chest, he mutes his side of the call and holds his phone away from his ear, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” you’re fighting to keep your eyes on his and not look at his lips.

His free hand holds the side of your face, “I’ll be back late today,” he looks away from you for a second, “I’d prefer if you didn’t go in today, I might not be available if you need me.”

You roll your eyes at him lightly, “I probably won’t need you, plus my shift is only short and I need money.”

“I can give you money,” his tone is slightly exasperated, his hand moves to hold your shoulder.

“I don’t want your money,” the idea of taking money from him, while also living in his home… is uncomfortable, you don’t care if he’s offering, you are not taking his money.

He looks you over carefully, ignoring the voice coming from his phone, “You really not going to take another day?”

“Nope, I can’t… not without risking my job,” you place your hands on your hips and raise a brow at him, you told him this yesterday.

His head rolls back and he groans a bit, the hand on your shoulder shakes you slightly, “Fine, but finish early and come straight back here,” his face pulls up in disgust, “I hate that, that little rat of a man is still out and about.”

Your lips twist from holding in a laugh, your hand salutes him as you say, “Yessir.”

He squints at you before putting his phone back to his ear, unmuting himself, the person on the other end had started to yell at him through the phone, “I am coming! Geez…” He spins to leave but quickly turns around and presses a kiss to your lips, “I’ll see you later,” he rushes out the apartment after that.

You’re left shocked, staring at the door he just left out of. It’s not the first time you’ve kissed… obviously but the casualness of it has your stomach erupting in butterflies. He kissed you like it was the most natural thing, like it was a part of your routine, like you’re a couple. Your relationship with him has left you completely confused but how he doubled back just to kiss you goodbye has you smiling to yourself like an idiot all morning.

✰ ✰ ✰

The trip to work is nerve wracking, you’re worried about being back, you’re extra cautious of everyone around you, eyes scanning every face quickly, it’s not until you’re actually at work and can hide in the backroom do you feel the slightest bit better. Having people around you and being behind the counter puts you at ease, it’ll at least be harder for your ex to get at you, hopefully he doesn’t show up though.

You’re waiting the extra few minutes for your shift to start, as you sit and stare at your feet, you see another pair approach and stop in front of you. You’re scared it’s your manager but as you lift your head up to look, you realise it’s just one of your co-workers. Your shoulders drop, relaxing, knowing that you aren’t about to be scolded for you absence.

Your co-worker smiles down at you, “You’re back! Are you feeling better?”

He is so chipper compared to your general unease about everything, “Ah, hey Michael, yeah… I’m all better,” you give him a polite smile.

“Are you sure? You don’t look so well…” he leans down slightly, as if to examine you closer before moving out of your personal space, “Sorry! I didn’t mean that in a bad way, you still look great! Beautiful, even… uhm, what I mean is… you just look a little run down,” his hand awkwardly scratches at the back of his neck.

“I’m alright… thanks though?” You’re a little confused and aren’t sure what the appropriate response to him would be.

Michael is a nice guy and you’ve known him for a bit now, long enough to consider him a friend but he’s horribly awkward around you sometimes and you can’t figure out why, or what the suitable way to react to him would be.

He stands in front of you, rocking on his heels slightly, hands stuffed into his pockets, “I can take most of the orders and serve if you like? So, you don’t have to talk to as many people. You can hang back and wipe tables and stuff, the work people do when there is no work,” he laughs lightly.

You protest, if it’s been as busy as your manager says then you don’t want to put it all on Michael, “You don’t have to do that!”

He waves his hand dismissively at you, “It’s not been that busy, I’m happy to do it.”

The offer he makes sounds perfect to you, normally you would protest more but the risk of having to serve your ex is high and Michael has just unknowingly given you an out, “That… would actually be great, thank you. If things get busy though I will be on top of it!”

“Don’t worry about it, take it slow and let me know if you need me to cover for you or something… like if you need an extra break,” he’s still shuffling on his feet but he’s calmed a bit, “To be honest, if you aren’t feeling well, I don’t think you should be here.”

“Tell that to big boss man,” you snark out humourlessly.

His face pulls up in a sympathetic grimace, “He call you in, huh?”

“Yeah, he said you guys have been really busy and not so subtly threatened my job if I didn’t come in,” you wear a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes as you speak, sharing the bitten back annoyance you feel towards your manager.

Michael rolls his eyes, “That sure is one of his favourite moves, you know he wouldn’t have fired you though, too many of us would also leave if he fired you for being unwell.”

He’s right, most people would walk out, you know you would but you also don’t doubt your managers hubris, he probably would have fired you just to prove a point, even if it caused him to lose other employees too.

You half smile at him, “I dunno, I think he would fire me still, I also wouldn’t want people to leave here because of me, the pay is too good compared to other service jobs.” You glance to the clock behind his head and place your hands to your knees, pushing yourself up, “Oh well, time to start.”

Michael rolls his head and groans slightly, dreading the shift as much as you, “Great,” he looks to you again, “Seriously though, take it easy and let me know if you need anything.”

You smile and thank him again before the both of you clock on and walk out of the backroom.

The first half of your shift is uneventful, everything is quiet for the most part, busy your ass. Michael kept true to his offer and has been manning most of the orders while you hang back and make the odd drink or coffee, which you don’t mind, human interaction is not something you were looking forward to today and you somehow always end up with the weirdest customers.

The customers today, however, are mostly older people, you notice that there are only a few other people working, which is odd. The place is a small café/restaurant kind of gig, it’s nice but it can get busier and it can get busy quick, so you’re surprised by how slow it is today.

While you’re on your ten-minute break, your manager approaches you, “Glad to see you back.”

“It is good to be back,” you try to be as inoffensive as possible but you think your disdain for him is something that cannot be easily hidden.

He stares blankly at you for a moment, “Can you stay back today? Our closer called out.”

You remember Johnny’s words and how he had asked you to come back early, “I don’t think–”

“–It would be helpful, if you could, otherwise Michael will be alone.”

“Michael is staying back too?” You’re confused, normally you’d both be swapped out, actually, normally there would be at least another server on around this time.

Your manager looks exasperated with all this back and forth, “Yeah he’s already covering for someone else.”

Damn, Michael is such a pushover and you feel bad for him, you know you said to Johnny you would go straight back to his after your shift but you feel bad for your co-worker, that and the extra money is pretty enticing after not coming to work for a bit… plus… you still technically would be going straight back to Johnny’s, it would just be a little bit later.

You sigh out before answering, “I suppose I can stay back.”

“That’s great, thank you, take an extra ten,” he pats your shoulder and shuffles off.

You guess what he meant by “swamped” was actually “understaffed”, sounds like a lot of the servers have been calling out. Which kind of has you understanding his frustrations with you, you’re still pissed at him for handling it poorly though.

You use the extra ten-minutes to sit and zone out, staring at the bleak wall of the backroom. Distantly, you consider messaging Johnny to tell him you’ll be back later than you thought but he’s also meant to be late, so chances are, you’ll get back before him.

Before you have more time to think about it though, your break is up and you’re heading back out onto the floor. The hours tick by… so… slowly, the afternoon picks up a bit in business and you help with serving but then it dies down again not long after and you’re back to a coffee every now and again and cleaning.

The bell on the door dings as it swings open and closed, Michael greets them, their voice catches your attention and as you look at them, your blood runs cold. Your ex has just walked through the door and moved to sit at a table, Michael goes over to take his order and your heart feels like it’s about to pound out of your chest.

You aren’t sure what you should do, the cops weren’t helpful last time and you don’t want them coming to your place of work, you’re frightened and uncertain of what to do. He looks to you and you catch his gaze, he smiles at you and wiggles his fingers in greeting, you frown back at him and storm off to the backroom, giving yourself time to calm down.

Deep breaths in and out, in… and out… you focus on things around you, the feel of the wall under your palm, how your feet feel in your shoes, how your apron scrunches in your fist, your racing heart calms down, slowing to a more reasonable pace. You roll your head and crack your neck, trying to remove the stiffness in your bones, you think about Johnny, you think about how safe he makes you feel and you think about calling him. You won’t, you don’t feel like you should, he’s busy today and he said he would be unreachable… and you’re worried about what he may do, how it may upset him that you’ve agreed to stay back later.

Your energy is better spent calming down and pretending like your ex has not upset you, it’s a power move on his behalf, showing up here, he’s trying to scare you and while it is working, you are not going to let him know that, he will not be getting anything more out of you. He doesn’t deserve any sort of satisfaction, what he does deserve is another smack to the head but you will control that urge too, you really need your job.

Taking one last deep breath, you leave the room and go back to doing the odd jobs cleaning up, you continue your shift, ignoring him the whole time, you don’t even look at him, all of your focus is put into whatever you’re doing in that moment. You can feel him watching though, he stays the whole of your shift, watching you and hoping you’ll look his way, he makes your skin crawl.

Towards the end of your shift, when you’re closing up and everyone has left, Michael approaches you, “That guy from earlier, he comes in a lot lately and he’s usually fine… but today he was unsettling, he wouldn’t stop watching you,” he pauses and looks out the front window, “and I think he’s waiting outside.”

You groan, this is something you would rather not have to tell anyone about but since he’s picked up on it and you really don’t want to leave alone, you confide in Michael, “He’s my ex… and he’s been stalking me? Of sorts… it’s why I hadn’t come to work for a bit, I was worried he would come here.”

He makes a shocked face, “That’s horrific, have you told someone?”

“The cops know but they’re about as helpful as nipples on men,” you’re completely frustrated and you also don’t want to talk too in depth about this.

He chuckles at your statement, caught off guard by it, “Sorry, this is not funny but I’ve not heard someone say that before while also looking so serious.”

You also crack a smile, it was the first thing that came to your mind, it is a bit ridiculous, “It’s fine, it’s a stupid saying.”

“Definitely true though,” he adds before his expression turns more serious, sympathetic to you, “I am so sorry this has been happening to you… you don’t deserve this, can I do anything to help? Do you want me to give you a lift home?”

You appreciate his offer deeply and while maybe you would accept it if you were staying at yours, you don’t feel comfortable giving him Johnny’s address, “No, that’s okay, I’ve been staying with a friend so I’m just gonna catch a cab to their place.”

“Are you sure? Do you want me to at least wait with you?” He seems a little apprehensive at leaving you on your own.

“I would like that, please,” you don’t want to wait on the side of the road by yourself, not with him right outside.

The pair of you walk outside together after double checking everything is packed away properly, Michael makes sure he’s on the side your ex is when you leave the building, not wanting him to possibly get at you. Your ex only watches, he doesn’t approach you, he just stands there, you don’t know what he’s doing but you feel like he may be waiting for you to be left alone.

You don’t speak, you don’t have anything to say, you’re trying your best to not show how unsettled by him you are, all of your focus put into keeping yourself calm. The sound of a lighter flickering is oddly loud in the quiet street, cigarette smoke lingers in the air, your ex has lit up a cigarette and the smell is making you feel sickly, though that might just be his presence altogether.

Michael places an arm around you before leaning in, “Are you okay? You sure I can’t just give you a ride?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” you smile at him and then pull out your phone, getting ready to order a cab.

A loud car is speeding up the street, the sounds make you roll your eyes, asshole, you think. It’s getting closer though, and then it’s pulling over right in front of you. The expression on your face is annoyed, pissed off, you want to curse out the asshole driving like a dick, you even go so far as opening your mouth to say something but as they get out of the car, you realise it’s Johnny, and then you’re shocked silent, your mouth closing very suddenly.

Michael is just as shocked and confused, his arm coming off you as he asks, “Holy fuck, is that Johnny Cage?”

Johnny walks straight to you, ignoring Michael, “Are you okay? Why are you still out? I told you to come back early,” his brows are set in a deep frown, eyes scanning you quickly, hands holding your face tenderly.

“I’m fine and I got asked to stay back, I was about to catch a cab–”

“–Why didn’t you call me?” His hands come off your face but one of them reaches down to your hand and grips it in his.

“You said you were going to be busy and unreachable,” you shrug, you know you could’ve sent a text or something but you didn’t want to be a nuisance, not when it seemed like his start to the day was already rocky.

“Not that unreachable,” he sighs, he looks around your surroundings properly, you think he may finally take notice of Michael who has been very patiently waiting to be acknowledged.

You try prompting an introduction, “Uhm, this is my co-worker, Michael.”

“Why the fuck is he here,” Johnny ignores your words, gaze set off to the side where your ex is, his hand grips yours a little tighter, he moves closer to you, glaring at your ex.

You don’t want there to be a scene, you want what you wanted before, you want to leave and go back to Johnny’s, you just want to feel safe again, “Johnny–”

“–How long has he been here for?” He barely glances back at you, still staring your ex down.

“Most of her shift,” Michael answers for you, it makes you cringe because you know Johnny is going to have a lot of thoughts about you not telling him.

Johnny finally acknowledges his presence, “What?”

“He’s been here all day… and then he was hanging around after close…” Michael looks to you, “Did I say something wrong?” He asks you a bit quieter.

“No, you’ve done nothing wrong,” you get Johnny may be a little on edge and severely pissed at your ex but he’s being overtly hostile towards Michael for no reason.

Johnny hums, “Get in the car, doll.”

You prompt him, “Johnny,” he looks to you and you keep talking, “Don’t do anything, I just want to leave.”

Johnny scowls, thinking on it for a moment, wanting so badly to walk those few steps over to your ex and beat the fuck out of him, he looks back to you and sees the way your eyes plead with him and he recognises you’ve probably had the worst day of work in your life, the psychological torture of having your ex watch your every move exhausting and frightening.

He concedes to you, “Fine, we’ll just leave.” He turns around to open the car door for you.

You turn to Michael and place a hand on his shoulder, “Sorry about everything and seriously, thank you for today, you made it easier being here.”

“Anytime, I hope the cops do something about your ex soon, I hate that you’re going through this,” he looks worried for you and you can’t blame him but you think Johnny does enough worrying about you for ten people.

“Have a good night,” you pat his shoulder before walking to the car.

“Hey!” He calls out to you before you sit down, “Uhm, if you need anything, text me.”

You smile at him as Johnny closes the car door, you give him a thumbs up from inside the car, you don’t think you’ll ask for his help but it’s kind of him to offer, he’s a very giving person.

Johnny takes a bit longer to get in the car, it doesn’t look like he says anything to Michael but he stares at him for a bit. When he does get inside the car, he wordlessly starts the engine and drives you both back to his. It’s tense and it feels like you’re in trouble, your leg is bouncing up and down with your nerves and he reaches over to you, placing his hand on your thigh, attempting to comfort you.

It works, slightly, you would feel better if he broke his silence and got his thoughts all out now but you know he’s going to wait until you’re both back at his apartment. His thumb rubs along your skin, soothing you, it calms you enough to sit still the rest of the drive.

Still, no words are spoken the whole way up to his apartment, nothing other than your small thank yous when he opens a door for you, mostly you trail behind him. When you reach the door he lets you in first, locking it and walking into the living room, you linger awkwardly but ultimately follow after him.

He must hear you follow because he doesn’t turn around as he asks, “What were you thinking? Your ex shows up while you’re working and not only do you not think to tell me, you also stay the whole shift and even work late?” He’s exasperated, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

You shuffle into the room more, “…We are understaffed and I didn’t want to make Michael handle that on his own, plus it’s good money… and I need the money, so I can pay for the apartment.”

He turns around to look at you, “But you didn’t tell me any of that? Just left me in the dark to come home to an empty apartment?”

Your brows knit together, starting to get frustrated with him, “You said you were going to be unreachable, of course I wanted to call you as soon as I was asked to stay back, as soon as he showed up, but I thought about your words this morning… and honestly, I thought of how you’re reacting right now!”

“So, you rely on some stranger?” His hands gesture angrily.

“Who?” you’re confused.

He grimaces, “The fucker with you tonight.”

“Michael?” He nods and you make a perplexed face back at him, “He’s not a stranger? He’s my co-worker and I have known him for a bit now,” you hesitate before adding quietly, “He’s a friend.”

Johnny crosses his arms and raises a brow at you, “A friend, like how I’m a friend?”

“What–”

He cuts you off, not even letting you ask your question, “–Like how you’re begging me to fuck you any chance you get, kind of friend?”

You’re deeply frustrated with him, you don’t like his tone, or attitude, “What are you attempting to imply right now?”

“Nothing, I’m not implying anything,” he glowers at you, nothing secret about how he’s feeling right now, everything he feels is on his face.

He’s cutting you deep, your feelings run deeper for him than just physically and he has to know that by now, “I feel like you’re being incredibly unfair, I like you a lot and I want you in more than just one way.” You wrap your arms around yourself, pulling back from him.

He doesn’t say anything, he just stands there looking at you, still angry for no good reason. You turn around and leave him there, if you stay here looking at him while he does nothing but glare at you, you’ll cry.

You’ve just told him how you feel, you were honest and he doesn’t give you the same courtesy, not just now but ever, he’s not told you how he honestly feels and you can only put up with that for so long. You’re not a dog with a bone but he makes you feel like one, saying sweet nothings to you but not actually saying what he means or how he feels.

You head back to the guest room and flop onto the bed, allowing yourself a moment to sob, you’ve had such a shitty day and you wanted more than anything to come back here and tell Johnny about it, to be held by him while he told you everything is going to be okay. Now, you’re not only just upset about your workday, you’re also pissed at Johnny for how he just treated you.

From in your back pocket, your phone vibrates.

✰ ✰ ✰

You don’t really know how you’ve ended up here… well, you do, some of the girls from your college course invited you to a party and you were pretty keen to jump at the idea of escaping all your thoughts for the evening, you have tomorrow off so what’s the harm? Is what you had thought. You ended up sneaking out of Johnny’s apartment and ubering to the address you were given, from there it’s all a bit more hazy, you’ve been drinking a lot. Not typically something you do but you think after the day you’ve had, you earned it.

You do remember you left a note for Johnny to find, telling him you were fine and would be back late, you initially weren’t going to leave him anything but you thought that would be unkind, plus, it would only serve to worry him. Which, you genuinely don’t want him to stress about you so much, you are perfectly capable of caring for yourself, you’ve done it this long.

The night started out fun, drinking and dancing with these girls, but now you’re past drunk and they are nowhere to be seen. The people around you are getting handsy too, now that you’re alone on the dancefloor you’re an easier target. All the people in your personal space is starting to get to you and you end up pushing through the crowd of people to try and find some familiar faces.

It feels like you search the whole house twice but you can’t seem to find any of them, which is odd, you don’t know where they went or why they haven’t so much as messaged you about where they are. If you weren’t so far gone, you might worry about them more but the world is starting to spin a bit and you find yourself walking out the front and sitting on the stairs, you’re alone out here, well, alone besides the few people passed out on the lawn but you don’t think you’re going to count them.

The fresh air will hopefully help you feel better, you pull out your phone to order an uber and see a bunch of missed calls and texts from Johnny. You go to swipe the notification away but accidentally press it and your phone starts calling him back. Your attempts to hang up before he answers fail, especially since he picks up so quickly, the line barely ringing twice.

Johnny sounds pleased and pissed off to hear from you, “Thank god! Where the hell are you?”

“It said in mm note, at friends party,” your words are coming out slurred even though you’re trying to sound sober.

You can almost feel his glare through the phone, “Your note was stupid, why did you leave without telling me?”

You counter, “Would you have let me leave?” He doesn’t say anything, the other end of the phone in complete silence, “Exactly, plus mm still mad at you,” you state.

His tone is scrutinising, “Are you drunk?”

You ask him stupidly, “Are you?”

“What? Obviously not?” He sighs into the phone, irritated by you, “Just tell me you’re safe at least.”

“Mmmm, I think so? I dunno… actually can you come get me? I dunno where mm friends are and I don’t wanna be here anymore,” you lean your head to your shoulder, closing your eyes for a second.

He sounds relieved, “Yes, I can come get you, send me the address.”

You like listening to him talk, “You have a nice voice, sometimes when you talk it gives me butterflies in my tummy…” your words are lazy and you trail off.

Johnny urges you, “Hey, focus, tell me where you are, doll.”

“At a friend’s house… hmm hold on,” you think he may still be talking but you’ve pulled your phone away from your ear to text him the address, you hold the phone to your ear again, “Did ya get that?”

“Yeah I did, I’ll be there soon okay, hang tight.”

“Mm not moving, too comfy,” your head rests back to your shoulder, your eyes slow blinking with how tired you’re getting.

Your eyes slip closed and you switch between hearing all the things around you and hearing nothing at all, your head is somehow swimming with every thought you’ve ever had and not a single thing. You rub at your eyes, trying to stay awake and present but you lose the fight and they slip closed again.

You aren’t sure how much time passes but it feels like no time at all has gone by when Johnny shakes you awake, him standing in front of you so soon feels like a hallucination, he leans down to you and your hand reaches up and pokes his chest.

He makes a confused face at you, “What was that for?”

“Jus checking you’re real,” you murmur out.

“Jesus, sugar,” he shakes his head at you, “Come on, let’s get you home,” he reaches down to you.

“Mmkay,” you take his hand and he pulls you up, you fall into him slightly.

He walks you back to his car carefully, worried about your balance the whole time, his hands stay on you, assisting your steps.

“I’m glad you called,” he says.

You mutter back at him, “Didn’t mean to, fingers are stupid.”

He huffs at you lightly, “Okay, well…I’m glad you asked me to come get you.”

You’re hesitant, “Thank you… for coming,” your lips are downturned, still pissed off at him but grateful all the same.

He opens his car door for you, the second time today and you get inside, “I’ve said it before… but I’ll always come… when you call.” He leans over to buckle you in, when he pulls back his fingers hold your chin, “You just have to call me.”

You’re still pouting and you look away from him, he makes you weak and you’re not ready to forgive him, especially when he’s not apologised, “Can we jus leave?”

He sighs softly to himself, “Yeah… let’s leave.”

He gets you both back to his in one piece, you felt a bit dizzy in the car but you’re feeling sturdier by the time you’re back in his apartment. He leads you into the kitchen and gets you a glass of water, he makes you drink it all in front of him.

You watch him as he takes the glass from you and puts it in the dishwasher, you feel tempted to tell him, “Mm still mad at you.”

He holds onto the edge of the bench, “I know.”

“You really hurt me,” you add.

“I know,” he repeats.

His unwillingness to look at you or give you a better answer has you tearing up, “Are you even sorry?”

He still won’t turn your way, the sink more interesting apparently, “We can talk more tomorrow, it’s late and you’re drunk.”

“I’ve never been more sober in my life,” you argue.

“I somehow doubt that,” is all he says.

You roll your eyes at him, you’ve had enough, “Whatever, thanks again… for picking me up,” you leave the kitchen after that, not willing to stay and let him ignore you more.

You just want to collapse into bed and pretend like everything is fine, you want to pretend you’re back to a couple days ago, when you and Johnny were playing trivial pursuit. You want to think of how kind he was to you yesterday, when you cried in his kitchen while making pancakes and you’re not going to think about how he implied you were interested in sleeping with all your friends and minimised your feelings for him.

Talking to him again is not something you’re looking forward to, not if tonight is anything to go by, he takes up such a large place in your heart and to be treated like this by him feels… shattering. He’s always been so kind to you and to be spoken to like this, it’s devastating, you want to understand but you also want him to leave you alone for a bit, you’re not certain you’re ready to listen to whatever he has to say.

In your very slowly sobering state, you manage to get yourself into the shower and fresh pyjamas, having to do this tomorrow while hungover is going to be hell so your sober-self better be grateful to drunk you because this is far too much effort when you’d rather be curled up in bed crying over a stupid boy.

✰ ✰ ✰

Banging sounds in the kitchen jolt you awake, your head pounding from the hangover you’re currently sporting. The clanging not helping your current state at all, your eyes squint against the minimal light seeping into the room. The furrow set in your brow not helping the pain in your head, you must look incredibly angry right now… and remembering yesterday… yeah, you are incredibly angry right now.

Groaning you flop onto your side and notice that Johnny must’ve come in earlier because there’s some ibuprofen and water sitting on the nightstand next to the bed. You hate how thoughtful he’s being after saying some pretty thoughtless things, he’s not being fair to you at all. Just to get your ducks in a row, he implied you wanted to sleep with your friends, devalued your feelings for him, gave you the silent treatment, got upset that you left the house, wouldn’t talk to you last night, and then again disregarded you all while knowing he had hurt your feelings… yeah, you’re pissed.

Talking right now, or today, might be a bad idea, you’re not in the best headspace, whatever reason he has may not be enough for you. Ignoring the ache in your bones and head, you get up and pack away your bags, stuffing everything in haphazardly, staying here… might not be best for either of you. Being in a home with someone who is upset at you but not willing to speak about it… makes you uncomfortable, you were already worried about overstaying your welcome when things were good… now it feels almost unbearable.

You are thankful to drunk you for getting clean last night, it’ll make leaving easier, you change out of your pyjamas and crack open the door to scope out the area, double checking he’s not in the way. He doesn’t seem to be in the main areas, you think you may be able to leave without him noticing. Grabbing your bag, you quietly shuffle to the front door, it feels ridiculous, like you’re attempting to pull off some great heist, it’s not lost on you how stupid you’re being but you’re hurt, mad, and hungover, you get to be a little stupid.

“What are you doing?” Johnny’s voice makes you jump in place, you hadn’t even heard him approach you.

Slowly, you spin to face him, “…Nothing?”

His eyes look you over before focusing on the bag you’re holding, “Really? Because it looks like you’re trying to leave without saying goodbye.”

“Well, I just thought… after yesterday… it may be better if I leave… quietly,” your head is too sore to be standing here talking about this right now.

He frowns at you, his hands on his hips, annoyed by your choice, “Better for who? I don’t want you to leave and I never said that I did.”

“You haven’t said anything actually,” you point out, you don’t even know why he cares if you stay, he’s the one who started the ‘argument’ or whatever this is.

He sidesteps your statement, instead asking, “Where are you gonna go?”

You roll your head and look away, “Back to mine… probably.”

“While your ex is out there… actively stalking you?” His tone is dubious.

He’s annoying you with his logic, “I don’t know, Johnny, all I know is that you’re not talking to me and I don’t feel welcome here.” You’re starting to tear up and you curse yourself for it, “I was already hesitant to stay here and now you don’t look at me and when you do, you look so… angry and I don’t know why. I don’t know what I’ve done to upset you so much.”

He’s quiet and it seems like he’s not going to say anything… again. You sigh and turn to the front door, choosing to leave anyways but Johnny grabs your wrist, stopping you, “Don’t leave… please.”

You close your eyes for a moment, the light hurting your head, You turn back to him, waiting for him to continue talking; he lets go of your wrist when he’s certain you’re not going to walk away.

He adds, “I’m not upset at you–”

“–It feels like you are.” You interrupt.

He’s beginning to get exasperated, “I’m angry with myself, I’m pissed off and I took it out on you, and I’m annoyed that I did, I want to talk to you about this, I want to explain.”

“Explain then! I’ve given you chances to explain and all you do is stand there silently, I want to be able to forgive you,” you sigh at him again, “You’ve fucked up, if you were anyone else… I would’ve walked away already but I want you to give me the chance to forgive you.”

“I got pissed when I saw you with that– with Michael, it wasn’t rational but it made me realise… people your age are interested in you, there are people out there that are better for you… I– I had already known that… I just didn’t expect…” He’s getting pissed again, you can tell by the way he crosses his arms and his mouth pulls down into a scowl, “I didn’t expect the anger I would feel at seeing you with someone else, I didn’t… the idea of you being with someone else, of someone else touching you how I have, it makes me physically sick.”

You take a deep breath, “So… because you got jealous… you implied I wanted to sleep with my friends and ignored me when I told you I liked you?”

He looks like he wants to touch you, his fingers thrumming against his bicep, fidgeting, “I wasn’t thinking properly, I’m so sorry, doll.”

Your shoulders drop, your bag slipping, “I don’t know… how to react to this–”

He cuts you off to add, “–I like you too, a lot.”

His words make your heart skip a beat but you hold steady, “You can’t say that and expect me to just forgive you.”

He moves closer to you, “I know, that’s not why I said it.”

“I’m not forgiving you.”

“That’s okay,” he hums, “Can I touch you?”

This man does not play fair, “I–”

He touches you anyways, his hand holds the side of your face before he pulls you to him, hugging you tightly, “I am really sorry… I don’t feel good enough for you, you deserve better, you deserve more but I can’t help but feel incredibly selfish because the idea of someone else having you… it literally drives me crazy, doll.”

Being held by him, regretfully, has you feeling so much better, your bag properly drops from your shoulder, and you hug him back, missing his warmth. “You were mean.”

“I’m sorry,” he replies.

“I’d had such a bad day and all I wanted was to tell you about it,” your eyes start welling with tears.

He repeats, “I’m sorry.”

“I missed you,” you sniffle out.

His head leans down to you, nosing at your cheek, “I missed you, too.” You move to pull back, but his hands hold you still, one of them grasping your face, his lips brush against yours before he pulls back himself to say, “You know, I was also seriously concerned for your safety, I came home and you still weren’t back and I had no messages from you, nothing letting me know you were okay.”

You suppose, you can apologise for that much, “And for that, I am sorry.”

“I forgive you… this time.” He jokes, taking it lightly.

You look at him carefully, considering everything, “Johnny, I need to know what we’re doing.”

He’s confused by your sudden question, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, are we more than friends?” You need clarity, after having none for so long, you just need to know what the hell you’re doing.

His brows furrow and he pretends to think really hard, “Considering I’ve made you cum multiple times and stuck my tongue in your mouth… I’d consider you more than a friend.”

You groan and roll your eyes at him, pushing him back by his shoulder, it barely moves him, his hands instead grabbing your face and pulling you to him. He takes your lips in his own, his kiss full and passionate, it takes you by surprise and you make a small sound reminiscent of a whine.

He presses his forehead to yours, “Do you wanna be my girl?”

“Ugh, corny,” you complain but you hate how badly you want that.

He chuckles lightly, pressing kisses to your lips again, “I want you to be.”

You’re not fully paying attention, temporarily distracted by his kisses, “Mmm... Sorry, what?”

He simplifies, “Mine, I want you to be mine.”

You agree easily, “Okay.”

A smile spreads across his lips and then he moves to press kisses all over your face, “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

“Somewhat,” you answer cryptically, mostly because you’re annoyed by how easily he fixed everything.

“I’ll take it,” he breathes out a laugh.

You wince involuntarily, your head still pounding, your body reminding you of your adventures last night and the consequences that come along with them, “I need to lay back down.”

Johnny’s tone is worried, his hands hold onto your shoulders, putting some distance between you both to look you over, “Are you okay?”

You deadpan back, “Yeah… you’re just exhausting.”

“Not nice,” he complains.

You smile cheekily at him, “I’m kidding… mostly,” he forces a smile back at you and you laugh lightly, “I’m hungover… I just wanna lay back down and die."

"Bit dramatic don’t you think?” He asks.

You glare at him, “Says you.”

He raises his hands in a placating manner, “Completely correct, let’s get you back in bed hmm?”

The rest of your day is spent recuperating in bed, you’re in and out of sleep, sometimes only ever up long enough to eat or drink something. Johnny brings you… way too many snacks but he insisted on you eating, it was nice and also so much for your pounding head, you ended up asking him to leave you alone to rot for the day, which he reluctantly did. You think he’s still concerned you’ve not forgiven him and if you’re telling yourself the truth, while you really want to forgive him, it’s not that easy and your heart sits heavy, the ache he caused not forgotten.

You’re going to try really hard to move forward though because you can understand, while he didn’t go about it well… at all, he’s struggling with his feelings for you and you can understand that much. It also wouldn’t have helped that tension would’ve been high for him, with you out later than expected, no messages, only to find you and see you with a stranger, while your ex lurks in the background… hmmm, maybe Johnny held it together better than you’re giving him credit for.

✰ ✰ ✰

It’s late in the evening when you wake up properly, your heart racing as you sit up suddenly, you can’t quite remember what your dream was of but you remember it was not pleasant. Anxiety crawls up your spine and you think it may have had something to do with your ex, the unease that sits in the pit of your stomach reminds you of the way you felt while at work. You hug yourself, rocking back and forth for a moment, trying to calm down… it’s not helping.

Crawling out of bed, you head the few doors down to get to Johnny’s room, wanting to seek comfort from him. You knock lightly, trying to see if he’s awake, it’s late though so you doubt he’d still be up. You consider entering his room and waking him up anyways but you aren’t sure he’s been sleeping well lately so you turn around and head for the lounge room instead.

You grab the remote off the coffee table before flopping onto the couch, laying on your side, completely stretched out, you aren’t going to be able to sleep anymore so you might as well find something to watch and get comfortable. There isn’t much on at this time of night though, nothing good anyways.

Somehow, you find yourself heavily invested in the channel that only sells things, all advertisements for stuff that nobody feasibly needs or would use more than once but for some reason, you are completely involved in what the man is waffling on about. Why yes, you definitely do need a little bear named ‘Tiddy Bear’ for your seatbelt so it’s less annoying… you don’t own a car.

You’ve somehow become so absorbed in the crap commercials that you jump slightly when Johnny leans over you from behind the couch, “Holy– Don’t do that,” you gasp.

His voice is deep with sleep, “Sorry sweetness… but what the fuck are you watching?”

You state simply, “Tiddy bear,” and then point at the television.

Johnny sleepily looks where you’re pointing, squinting against the bright light, “…Right,” you can practically see the thought enter his head as soon as he thinks it, “You know… I could always be you–”

You groan at him, “–Shuddup!”

He laughs as he looks down at you, “You don’t even know what I was gonna say!”

“I’m fairly certain I did,” you raise a brow at him.

He wears a lazy smile as he rounds the couch, he taps your legs and you tuck them up so he can sit beside you. Once he’s seated, he pulls your legs into his lap so you’re stretched out again. His hands absentmindedly massage your calves, he watches the advertisement with you for a bit, a new one playing, something called the wearable towel, it looks like a dress… but towel material.

Johnny frowns at the infomercial, confused, “Seriously, doll, what the fuck are we watching?”

“Well, I couldn’t sleep, so I was watching some tv and somehow got really into the infomercials,” you shrug.

He puts all his attention on you, “Why couldn’t you sleep?”

You shrug again, “It was nothing, just a bad dream.”

You don’t look at him, still watching the lady talk about how annoying traditional towels are, Johnny squeezes your calf so you look at him, “Could’ve woken me up, if you wanted to talk about it.”

You hum at him, “I didn’t want to disturb you, I did knock… on your door, to see if you were awake.”

“Hell, sugar, next time just crawl into bed next to me, I really wouldn’t mind,” he smiles at you and then asks, “What was it about?” He keeps massaging your calves, fingers digging into the muscle, it’s nice.

“I don’t remember… but it was… scary,” you feel embarrassed to admit that, you’re a grown adult, it seems silly to be frightened by a dream.

He considers you for a moment, not really sure on what to say, “Yeah, sometimes it’s like that.”

“I just felt dumb, having a bad dream, it feels childish,” you sigh, frustrated with yourself.

“The feeling was real though, it’s not childish, I’ve had nightmares before.” He rests his head back on the couch, “You’ve had the most stressful time lately… I’m honestly surprised you’ve not had more nightmares.”

You watch him, he’s looking up at the ceiling, “I was scared,” you admit.

“That’s normal–”

“–No, not tonight, I mean at work, when he came in and stayed my whole shift,” Johnny looks to you, his attention focused solely on what you’re about to say, “I was scared but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of effecting me… so I ignored him and I thought about coming back to you, I thought of how,” you take a breath and look away from him, “I thought of how safe you make me feel.”

He sounds emotional, “I make you feel safe?”

You look back to him, feeling bashful, “Johnny, you feel more like home to me than any place ever has…” You’re nervous, feeling open and vulnerable, but you add, “Yes, you feel safe, you feel like home.”

It feels like he looks at you for too long, his eyes looking over you, full of so many emotions that you can’t read. When he does speak, all he says is, “Move over.”

“What?”

“Move over, I’m getting in beside you,” he starts shuffling to lay down next to you on the couch.

You laugh, “Johnny, there is not enough room.”

“Yeah there is, lemme in,” he continues to lay down.

You roll your eyes but shuffle back as much as you can on the couch, your body close to slipping off the furniture entirely. He lays down on his side next to you, his arm coming around you, tugging you close and supporting you so you don’t fall off.

You look up at him, “Why are we doing this?”

He huffs at you, “I wanted to cuddle with you.”

He looks sleepy right now, it’s endearing, “Why so suddenly though?”

“You said something cute and it made me happy,” he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his breath against you makes your skin prick, “I’m glad I make you feel safe… and I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you, having him at your place of work… I should’ve been there.”

“I don’t blame you for that, I didn’t tell you,” you reach up and comb your fingers through his hair, “I– I wanted to call you but I worry so much… I worry about how much I burden you.”

He presses a soft kiss to your neck, it sends a shiver down your spine; he pulls back to look at you properly, his arm holding you as close as he can, “You aren’t a burden to me,” he holds intense eye contact with you, trying to show you how serious he is with one look.

“I just don’t want to worry you with silly things,” you tuck your head into his chest.

He vibrates with a hum, “Well, for starters, being scared of your freaky ex who is stalking you… is decidedly not silly, secondly, I’d much rather you tell me about the silly things, I want you to tell me everything that worries you, I want to help… can’t do that if you don’t confide in me, sweetness.”

“I’ll talk to you more… but you have to promise to do the same, you keep so many things to yourself and I want to support you, however I can,” you mumble into his shirt.

His tone is light as he agrees, “Deal, now can I make out with you, or is this an inappropriate time to ask?”

You scoff at him but pull back and press a gentle kiss to his lips, he groans as you move back too soon, “All you get,” you snicker.

“Not kind at all,” He complains.

You give him another quick kiss, “Funny though.”

“So funny,” he repeats humourlessly, scowl on his face.

You laugh at him and his hand moves up your body to the back of your head, his mouth crashing onto yours, the sudden contact takes you by surprise. You sigh against him and he licks into your mouth, his kiss deep. Your leg moves to hook around his waist, pulling your lower half closer to his, he groans into the kiss, his hand moves from the back of your head, down your front and under your shirt. He gropes at your chest, fingers pinching your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger.

He moves his head down to your chest, pulling your shirt up and enveloping your nipple in the warmth of his mouth. His tongue flicks at you and you push towards him, soft sighs slip past your lips, your mind hazy. He bites at you lightly, his forehead resting against your sternum, he presses his face between your tits and sucks a hickey into the skin between them, his hand back to pawing at you.

He sighs against you, and then your world is spinning, he’s sitting up and taking you with him, you end up straddling him. His hands trail your body, tugging your shirt up and off your head, you lift your arms to help him. He leans forward and begins to leave more hickeys on you, marking your chest completely, your fingers thread through his hair, pleasured sighs leaving you.

He mumbles into your skin, “Take your pants off.”

You pull him back by his hair, “Excuse me?”

“Please?” He smiles at you. You look at him sceptically but he only continues to smile at you, “I’ll make it worth your while, promise.”

You concede and hop off his lap, pulling your pants off, you go to sit back on him but he tuts at you, “What?” You ask.

“Panties. Off.” His eyes are looking directly at your underwear, waiting for them to be gone.

You sway side to side, feeling timid but you comply and slip the garment down your legs, Johnny smiles brightly as you do as he asked. He makes grabby hands at you and you move closer to him, he grabs you and positions you over one of his thighs.

You’re a little confused, “What are you doi–”

“–Want you to ride my thigh, doll,” his hands encourage you to straddle his thigh properly.

“Johnny… that’s embarrassing,” you pout at him slightly.

“What happened to my eager little thing hmmm?” He grips your hips and starts dragging you back and forth on the material of his pants, “Promise it’ll feel good.”

You twitch on him slightly, it feels depraved to rut into his thigh while he watches but you start grinding down onto him lightly, your movements still uncertain. Johnny’s hands help facilitate your movements, wanting to see you do it yourself but also wanting control of the situation. Your cunt begins leaking onto him, the material of his sleep pants darkening under you, shudders run down your back and muffled whimpers get caught in your throat.

Your hands reach up to his shoulders, holding onto him to ground yourself, your fingers digging into his skin. His eyes watch how your pussy grinds into his thigh, smile still present on his face, absorbed in how you’re getting his leg all slick, the grey of his sweats now a dark grey. The friction the material of his pants give you is driving you insane, your need clawing up your spine, Johnny can tell you’re getting needier, based on how your eyes get glassy and your hips rut down into him more freely.

“There ya fuckin go, thas a good girl,” he comments.

His hands push you into his thigh firmer, the sudden change has you moaning out to him. You fall forward and tuck into his neck, your whimpers are breathed against him and he grunts at how wet you’re making his pants, at the little noises you’re making against him. You’re doing a lot of the work yourself at the moment, in the back of your mind you’re embarrassed at how you hump down onto him, at how damp you’re getting everything but Johnny seems so fucking pleased about it all.

You twitch into him and moan at the friction on your clit, the sound spurs him on, his hands grip your hips tightly and he moves you back and forth on his thigh quickly, your slick making the slide obscenely easy. Johnny’s own eyes are glassy, dizzy from how much you’re leaking on him, he moves one hand to pull your head back to look at him, he’s in awe of the fucked out look on your face.

“Mmm you always make the prettiest faces for me,” he compliments before taking your lips in his.

The kiss is messy, his lips demanding and desperate, his tongue in your mouth searching, consuming. He swallows down all the sounds you make for him, his own sounds shared in the kiss, when you part for a moment, strings of your saliva connect your mouths together. The evidence of how depraved in manner he kisses you sets you on fire, a whimper pulled from your chest. He smiles lazily at you, his thumb rubs over your lips, spreading your shared spit over them.

He pushes his thumb into your mouth and you take it, sucking on it gently, his eyes look wild as he watches you, “Need you to cum on my thigh, sugar.”

Your eyebrows pull up at him, your cunt clenching on nothing, your fingers dig into him as you continue to rock back and forth on him. Your stomach tensing, he pulls his thumb from your mouth and runs it down your chin, sternum, torso, all the way down to your clit, his thumb rubs circles into you, it makes you twitch against him. Johnny closes his eyes and seemingly remembers his goal very suddenly because he grabs you tightly again and starts forcefully dragging you back and forth, his leg bouncing, adding to the stimulation.

You gasp out to him, “Hah– Johnny~”

“Jus take it like this, cum like this, want it all over my leg, doll, want it stained into my fuckin pants.” His eyes are honed in on your cunt again, involved in how you’re dripping on him, how easy you slide on him.

Your voice pitches higher, “Johnny– I– mmph–”

He encourages you, already knowing, “Go on, soak my thigh, sweetness.”

You gasp and shudder against him, your hips desperately grinding down into him, your high so close. Johnny’s intense, greedy gaze on you is what undoes you, you twitch on him as you cum, pathetic whimpers sound from you as you rut down into his leg, he supports you as you finish, helping you ride out your high, feeding you praises about how well you did and how cute you look.

Once you’ve come down though, he keeps moving you into him, enjoying the way your body jolts in sensitivity at the action. You slump forward into him, small whines leaving your lips as he overstimulates you. He turns his face into your neck and lightly bites you, your cunt clamps down onto nothing, the pain shoots straight to your drenched pussy, a sad little moan slipping from you.

Johnny’s hands rub up and down your back, soothing you, “How you think you’re ever gonna be able to take my dick when you get fucked out this easily is beyond me.”

“I could take it,” you argue.

You can feel his smile against your skin, “I’m not so sure.” He pulls your face back so he can see you properly, “Yeah… I’ve missed that.”

You’re kind of hazy, mind making static noise, “Missed what?”

His smile turns devilish, “That cute little fucked out look you get on your face when I make you cum, a sight for sore eyes, doll.” You don’t get to say anything back, he picks you up and carries you with him back to his room, “Bet you’ll sleep fuckin fantastic now.”

You giggle against him because yeah, this might’ve done the trick.

✰ ✰ ✰

When you wake in the morning, you’re alone in Johnny’s bed, you lay still for a few more moments, enjoying the warmth of his large bed. You assume he’s gone to work; he’s probably messaged you but your phone is in the guest room and you don’t really feel like moving right now. You feel warm and safe wrapped up in his sheets, sleeping next to him was the best you had slept in weeks and you think he’s going to have to put up with you being in his bed more often now.

Eventually, after a few more moments of tossing around in his bed, you get up and wander down the hall to grab your phone. You were right, he had texted you saying where he was, he had to head in early and didn’t want to wake you. He should be back at a normal time though so you’re happy for that, it gets lonely in his big apartment.

You also have a message from your manager, telling you that you’ve got a few more days off… which is, surprising to say the least. Michael might have had something to do with that, which is kind but you need to figure out a long-term plan, on if you want to stay or go. Ideally, your ex would leave you alone, or the cops would arrest him for trashing your apartment but seeing as how they’re not all that useful, you don’t really know what to do.

At least now you have a few more days to consider your options, you were not looking forward to your afternoon shift. You’ll have to thank Michael next time you’re on with him, you don’t know what he said but you’re trusting that he didn’t divulge anything too personal, you didn’t even want to tell him about your ex, it was just unavoidable.

The day is uneventful for the most part, you clean the kitchen and guest room, you also make Johnny’s bed, you’re still a guest, it’s only polite that you clean up after yourself. There isn’t much else for you to do though, so you’re back on the couch, scrolling your socials and watching something inane as background noise. It shouldn’t be too much longer until Johnny gets back, you’re hoping anyways, you’re bored and want to talk to him regarding what you should do about your ex.

Speaking of… a text from that awful little man comes through, you forgot you hadn’t blocked him, you click on the notification and read it. Obviously, it’s all senseless anger, mostly name calling, not at all pleasant to read but after having him trash your home, this is not as scary as it would’ve been a while ago. You consider blocking him but then you think, this may help you actually.

He continues blowing up your phone on and off all afternoon, you end up silencing his messages so you can use your phone without being yelled at through the screen. It shouldn’t be but some of the messages are hilariously laughable, the fact you were with him for a whole year and he was like this? It’s almost inconceivable to you, how could you miss so much of his problem behaviour and why has he gotten so stuck on you.

One of his messages in particular sticks with you, ‘I deserved better.’ It makes you scoff, what a jackass. The rest aren’t as funny, they’re threatening and abusive and if you spent all your time reading them it would probably induce a panic attack.

Brushing it off, you put your phone down and involve yourself in the show you had put on hours ago, whatever his problem is, is not your fault and you shouldn’t bend over backwards trying to understand the motivations of someone so clearly mentally unstable. It’s not your fault, it’s something you have to repeat to yourself, so you don’t forget… because it’s not your fault and you won’t let him make you think that it is.

The front door rattles as Johnny unlocks it and walks into the apartment, you call out to him, “Welcome back!”

His shoes clack against the floors as he walks to where you are, “Hey, doll,” he pats the top of your head from behind the couch.

You bend your neck to look back at him, “How was your day?”

“…Annoying but thankfully shorter than some others,” he smiles at you, “How was your day?”

“Good, uneventful for the most part… well except…” You trail off as you watch him.

He steps over the back of the couch, it’s quite the show how his footing wobbles a bit on the plush cushions, you give him a quizzical look as he sits beside you, “What? Couldn’t be bothered to walk round.”

Laughing and shaking your head, you say, “You would’ve expended more effort climbing the couch than walking around it.”

He brushes you off, “Yeah whatever, just tell me about your day, what were you gonna say?”

Were you going to say something, “Hmm?”

“Uneventful day, except…?” He prompts.

You begin, “Ah, yeah, my ex started blowing up my phone, harassing me today–”

Johnny’s face twists into a disgusted scowl, “–You’ve not blocked him?”

You squint at him, silently admonishing him for interrupting you before you could finish, “Well, I had honestly forgotten to, he hadn’t even reached out until now but I think it may be helpful, in getting a restraining order on him, that way I can go to work and if he shows up the cops will actually have to do something about it.”

He considers your words for a moment, “Hmm, not a bad idea, want my help with that?”

“Please,” you smile sweetly at him.

He pinches your cheek and tugs lightly, “Of course, though…” he lets go of your cheek and you rub at it, “…I would prefer he were dead.”

You can’t help but laugh at the abruptness of his statement, “Right, well… I guess you’ll just have to settle for this.”

“Whatever makes life easier for you, doll,” he opens his arms for you to hug into his side, which you do.

He wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, you sigh against him, “I really just want him to leave me alone, so I can forget about him and move on, I don’t want to confront him, I don’t want to fight him, I just want to be left alone.”

“I understand that, we’ll make it happen,” he kisses the top of your head and you believe him.

You cuddle on the couch for a bit, enjoying his comfort but then your phone rings, checking the screen you see it’s a friend from college, “I should take this,” you tell Johnny.

He nods at you easily and lets you get up.

Taking your phone, you walk off to the guest room to get some privacy, “Hey! It’s been a while, what’s up?”

Her voice is chirpy through the phone, “It has been and nothing much, I just wanted to see if you were free to come round mine tomorrow? I need help with an assignment for that one class… with that one professor…”

You can practically feel how her eyes glaze over, you’ve already taken the class and catch on immediately, “Yeah I’m more than happy to help, I’m not sure how much help I’ll be… I’m still surprised I passed.”

She laughs from the other end, “But you did and at this rate, I’m closer to running away and living by the seaside on an isolated island than I am to passing this course.”

“Well then, I can be around tomorrow? Like, maybe midday? Can’t have you moving away, you’re like the only college friend I have… that I like.”

“Sounds good and I feel exactly the same about you,” you both share another giggle but she trails off, “…Have you been okay?”

You’re a bit confused by her sudden question, “Yeah I’ve been all good, why?”

She seems hesitant, like she’s not sure how to word what she wants to say, “Well… I’ve been hearing some… things… about you and it’s got me a little confused.”

You frown, “What kind of things?”

She sighs, “People in our circle have been saying you were cheating on your ex and that you’re broken up?”

“I mean we are broken up… but I did not cheat on him, I ended things with him for different reasons but if anyone cheated in that relationship, it was definitely him,” your fingers pinch the bridge of your nose, you have a feeling you already know who’s spreading the rumours.

“Yeah, I didn’t believe it but it’s really odd… that people are saying that, I always thought he was a little… freaky, so I got worried hearing about the rumours.”

You huff quietly, mostly to yourself, “Thanks for asking though… and not just assuming,”

“I like to think I know you well enough to discern what rumours are and aren’t true,” she lightly chuckles and it makes you smile.

Scratching the back of your neck, you ask, “A lot has happened but I can tell you about it all tomorrow?”

“I’d like that, you know I’m always here for you right?”

“I know,” you smile lopsidedly, you think you may need to get better at confiding in others.

You both share your goodbyes and hang up, you’re glad she reached out to you, honestly, if she wasn’t campus living and you didn’t have Johnny, you probably would have stayed with her, she’s one of the closest friends you have. It’ll be nice, telling a friend about everything.

Distantly you wonder how long the rumours have been running around and if this may be why you got ditched by those girls at the party and still haven’t heard from them, even after messaging them asking if they were okay.

This is such a frustrating position to be in but you think, if anyone believes the rumours without even asking you about them then they aren’t people you really want to be friends with anyways, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt though. The only thing you’re really worried about is if Johnny is included in the rumours, you don’t want to ruin his career, or hurt his image, at the moment the rumour doesn’t seem to mention him but you don’t know how long it will stay like that.

You waddle through the apartment and stand in front of Johnny, “There are rumours about me circling,” you pout.

“What?” He’s confused and you don’t blame him.

You slump onto the couch, your shoulder bumping into his, “Saying I cheated on my ex and that’s why we are broken up.”

He grunts, “What a load of bullshit,” his arm comes around you, pulling you close, “Are you okay?”

Sighing, you say, “Yeah, I mean, if people believe it that’s not my fault, I’m just so exhausted, it feels like it’s one awful thing after another at the moment.”

He turns to you and kisses the side of your head, “Would you feel better if I fucked you?”

Your voice feels small, “Yes.”

“That’s too bad,” he smiles against you.

You pout at him, “Don’t kick me when I’m down.”

He chuckles, “How about I cook you dinner instead?”

You smile at him, “That would be nice too, I guess.”

“Could you help?” He’s worried about it not being edible.

You let out an airy laugh, “Sure.”

✰ ✰ ✰

When you had told Johnny you were going out today to see a friend, he couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed, he has today off and he was hoping to spend it with you. He wasn’t about to stop you though, you need to see your friends, he’s glad to see you’re willing to talk to someone else about this. Sometimes, he worries that if he hadn’t heard your ex over the phone that first time, you wouldn’t have told him anything and that’s a scary thought to him.

He's left in the apartment alone and he’s bored, you’ve not even been gone long and he feels like a dog waiting for its owner to come home. Maybe he should feel a little pathetic about it but he’s pretty happy about where is, he’s scared… about the future but he’s also looking forward to his relationship with you. All he has to do is keep himself busy until you get back and he’s golden.

Some of your clothes are piled in his room, ever since he took you to bed with him a couple nights ago, you’ve been sleeping in here with him instead. Not that he minds, in fact, he’s got the opposite of complaints, the fact that you’re staying close to him and confiding in him, it makes him ridiculously happy.

The bag filled with your clothes sits on the floor in the corner, you’ve been here for a while now and you still won’t unpack, that bothers him. He won’t unpack for you, that’s invasive and will also probably upset you but he will pick up the clothes you left on the floor this morning, he’s just going to take them down the hall so they can get cleaned with his but as he picks them up, your panties slip from the pile.

He feels so ridiculously ashamed of how incredibly quickly his dick chubs up at seeing just your underwear, they’re cute… and now he’s thinking of you in them and nothing but. He rolls his shoulders and looks up to the ceiling, trying to ignore the growing ache in his cock but now all he can think about is you and how wet and needy you get for him.

Shamefully, he drops everything onto the ground and picks up your panties, his mind running wild. He feels like a fucking creep how he shoves them into his face and inhales deeply, his mouth salivating, he wishes you were home, he wants to fuck you with his tongue, it feels heavy in his mouth as his need grows.

His other hand slides down his body and undoes his belt before unbuttoning his slacks, he shoves his hand into his pants and groans as he grabs himself over his underwear. Your scent overwhelms his senses and he can’t hold off, he tugs his boxers and pants down, only enough so his cock is free, he’s desperate now, his dick twitching in need.

If he weren’t so stupefied by his thoughts of you, he’d probably recognise this as the creepy behaviour it is but right now he doesn’t care, he didn’t get to cum the other night after making you finish on his thigh and he’s been hesitant to try anything since but he’s so wound up it’s insane. After you had fallen asleep next to him that night, he’d pitifully moaned when he squeezed the base of his cock, just to get some kind of relief.

He's honestly not sure how long he’ll be able to hold off on fucking you, he wants it to be special for you, he wants it to be memorable, he doesn’t want to be just some guy you give your virginity to and regret… but in saying that… the need that claws at his insides every time he makes your pretty, cunt cum for him, is getting harder to control.

His hand not holding your panties grips onto the dresser for balance, his other hand reaches down to his cock, his tip leaks precum into your underwear, they’re soft as he moves them with his fist up and down his shaft. He sighs pathetically at the feeling of jerking off into your panties, his mind reeling with what it would be like to taste you, he wants to cum inside you and then lick you clean. His head falls back and he groans at the thought, his muscles twitch as he thinks of how pathetically you’d whine for him, your complacency with all the filthy things he does to you always makes his head spin.

With the amount he’s leaking into your panties, the glide is easy and his hand speeds up, a gasped grunt escaping him. He’s already on the edge of cumming just from thinking about tongue fucking you, he talks big game about you not being able to take him but he’s concerned that as soon as he sinks balls deep in you, he’s going to cum.

His chin falls to his chest and he watches how he fucks into your panties, his eyes are glazed over and his hand moves faster, he needs to cum, he knows it won’t satisfy him, not how he wants but if he doesn’t see your underwear coated in his cum, he thinks he may die. He thinks of you watching him cum into your panties, how embarrassed and turned on you’d be, it drives him wild and his cock jerks as he shoots his load into the fabric of your underwear. He groans deeply, his hips spasming, thrusting forward to ride out the euphoria.

He sighs, temporarily satisfied but his thoughts are still plagued by complete filth, he wants to make your pussy a complete mess for him. He wipes up his cum with your panties and tugs his pants back up, he’s going to need to calm down, he can wait for you to get home.

✰ ✰ ✰

The uber back to Johnny’s is boring, you’d had a good time with your friend though, you both pulled your hair out over the assignment and over your ex… but it was good, talking to someone. She was supportive and kind and she’s offered to sneak you into campus living with her if you need, which made you giggle. You told her about your plans to hopefully get a restraining order though, so you think you should be fine to go home soon.

It turns out, those girls… the ones you were at the party with, they’re apparently helping feed the flames of the rumour going around about you. At least you weren’t all that close to them, they just gave you a reason to go out and get drunk for a night. Whatever, you don’t want to put any more energy into all this, you’re going to go back to Johnny’s, you’re going to hang out with him and you’re going to trust that the court will let you get a restraining order against your ex.

When you get back to Johnny’s, it’s eerily quiet, you were expecting him to be watching a movie or listening to music… anything but it’s silent in the apartment and it’s freaking you out a little bit. Walking further into the main living area, you place your bag down and continue to wander around, looking for him.

You call out for him, “Johnny?”

He stumbles out of his room pretty quickly at the sound of your voice, “You’re back! How was it? Did you have fun?”

You squint at him a bit, his mannerisms odd, “…Yeah, it was good, I’ve missed her so it was nice… catching up.”

He fidgets in front of you a bit, like he’s antsy, like this is all a formality and he doesn’t really care, “That’s good! I’m glad you met up with her, I’ve been worried about you a bit lately…” His eyes roam over you, his fingers tapping against his skin.

“…Johnny?” He hums at you in reply and you ask, “Are you okay? You seem… on edge.”

His eyes flick back to yours, “Yeah, doll, I’m groovy, easy going,” he gives you a big cartoonish smile, it’s a little strained.

Frowning, you walk closer to examine him and he intakes a small, sharp breath, “Are you sure? Because you’re really twitchy right now.”

“Did anything else happen? Do you want to talk?” He’s clearly changing the subject.

You decide to let him, “No? I’m fine, we talked, I helped her with her assignment, nothing special,” you shrug at him.

“Okay, good,” is all he says in response. Just as you’re about to ask him what he means by that, his hands are on you, pulling you close, his mouth hovering right over yours, “I missed you, sweetness… bad.”

Your voice shakes slightly, the proximity getting to you, making your skin all hot, “I’ve not been gone lo– mmph–”

He cuts you off, his lips on yours are demanding, his kiss searing, like he’s been waiting his whole life to kiss you like this. You reach up and grab a hold of his shirt, hands fisting the fabric, trying to ground yourself. His hands are on you… everywhere, they grope and pull at the skin of your hips, at the fabric of your shirt, even palming your breasts, his touch is heated and needy, it’s making you dizzy. A small, whimpered moan leaves you involuntarily and he takes the chance to lick into your mouth, deepening the kiss.

With how he’s kissing you and how he’s touching you, your faculties are eluding you, your mind foggy. You’re the one to pull back first, needing air. Resting your forehead against his chest, you catch your breath and attempt to think straight again. Which is, surprisingly difficult, your eyes feel wet, everything about you feels malleable right now, he could probably say the stupidest thing on Earth and you’d still be weak in the knees with hearts in your eyes.

You lightly giggle against him, “Feeling needy?”

He grunts at you, “Doll, you got no fuckin clue.”

You think you may have some clue, “Bold statement coming from the man who still won’t fuck me even after I have asked so nicely, so many times.”

He rolls his eyes at you, only a little bit amused, you’re waiting for his smartass reply when he suddenly picks you up and throws you over his shoulder, walking back to his room with you.

“Wow, talk about desperate,” you joke.

“Keep talking, sweetness, enjoy the upper hand while you can still talk coherently,” he drops you onto his mattress, his form standing over you from the foot of the bed.

You know he’s right, and yet, the need to challenge him like he doesn’t render you speechless from a kiss hits you anyways, “Cocky, much?”

“Could say the same thing to you, at least mine isn’t false confidence,” he winks at you and begins unbuttoning his shirt.

You lean on your elbows and watch him intently, his skin slowly being revealed to you, he’s being a tease on purpose. Summoning your courage, you tug your pants down your legs and toss them off the bed, not stopping, you tug your shirt off completely too, your bra following not long after. Johnny stops what he’s doing, his shirt fully undone but still on.

Smiling up at him, you ask, “Something wrong, sugar?”

He rolls his head back, a sigh coming from him, “Feeling mean today?” He asks, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders.

“Only a little bit,” you’re honestly a little bit shocked with yourself, you feel nervous and exposed.

He climbs onto the mattress and you shuffle back as he moves up, his form large over yours, he leans down and places a hot kiss on your lips, “Gonna stick my tongue in your pretty pussy, babe.”

Somehow, the crudeness of his words always shock you, “Okay.”

His smile at your reply is wolfish, giving you one last kiss before he’s moving back down the bed and pushing his face into your panties. You squeak and jump at the feeling, he only hums against you, seemingly pleased at your reaction.

“Wanted to put my mouth on you all day,” he mumbles against your core.

You can only gasp in reply, his mouth opening and latching onto your cunt over your underwear, his tongue wetting the fabric, his nose rubbing into your clit. His hands hold you open and you fall flat onto the bed, not able to hold yourself up. When he detaches it’s only to pull your panties down your legs and off, his eyes are wild and he stumbles over his movements in his rush.

He's right back in between your legs as soon as he can be, his mouth not wasting anytime in how he immediately licks at you, fucking his tongue into your hole. A hand reaches down and threads through his hair, you give it a light tug and he moans against you. Your back arches for him, hips moving against his face slightly, your body moving on its own accord.

Johnny’s own hips covertly rut into the bed below, his senses overtaken by you, how you smell and taste, it’s making him dizzy, he’s been looking forward to this all day. He’s practically drooling into your cunt, his skin on fire, how you writhe and twitch on the mattress isn’t helping. Knowing he’s making you a needy, whimpering mess is making his cock ache even worse than it did this morning.

You’re gasping and whining for him and he moans into your pussy, his hips humping into the mattress in a more obvious manner as his desperation grows. His hands push on the back of your thighs, lifting your legs up and giving himself more access to your gooey cunt. He’s eating you like he might die if he doesn’t, like you’re his only salvation and you’re already so close to cumming for him because of it.

The grip you have on his hair tightens and he borderline whimpers into you, his movements not ceasing, if anything they pick up, his tongue moving quicker. Your stomach twitches and pulls, your orgasm fast approaching, Johnny can tell, he knows by how slick you get, how pitched your whines get.

You want to tell him, “Johnny, mmm–”

He grunts into your cunt, already aware and actively trying to have you finishing on his tongue, he wants it all. He wants you to cum directly into his mouth, he wants to drink it all down and then he wants to shove his tongue in your mouth and make you suck on it, tasting yourself through him. His cock twitches in his pants, his mind moving a million miles a minute, shamefully, he’s close to cumming in his pants.

Suddenly, he shakes his head against you, his nose moving over your clit, the stimulation shocks your orgasm from you, stumbled syllables vaguely reminiscent of Johnny’s name tumble from your lips, sounds that he relishes in, his hips stutter against the mattress as your cum floods his senses. The way your pussy spasms and creams on his tongue undoing him completely, his cum no doubt staining the front of his slacks, shivers running down his spine.

The orgasm he gives you and how taken by surprise you were, renders you wordless and thoughtless, only the sounds of the blood pumping in your ears can be heard, everything else is like white noise. You huff and shake slightly, the buzz in your veins delicious, he was right, about rendering you completely speechless, you knew he would be.

He licks at your pussy a bit longer, until you’re jerking away from him, too sensitive, you close your legs, knees touching, giving yourself some reprieve. Johnny pulls up and off the bed, once he’s standing, he yanks his pants off. You don’t miss the way his slacks and boxers are damp with his cum, he’s made a complete mess of himself.

You feel shy, “You came from that?” You’re completely shocked that he’s managed to finish just from humping the mattress and tongue fucking you.

“Got such a pretty little pussy, I’d cum from watching you play with yourself,” he plays it off easily, not an ounce of shame in his bones at the moment, only a large grin plastered on his face.

The embarrassment his words cause you is immense; your face feels warm and you can’t tell if it’s from your orgasm or what he’s just said. He crawls back on the bed, his cock already hardening again, apparently… he’s not done. His cock is shiny and slick from his own cum, his tip red and already leaking again, it’s making your head spin.

Your voice feels small, you feel small, “Are you gonna fuck me?”

“No.” His answer is dead on, no room for argument, as per usual when it comes to this topic.

“Then what–”

“–Gonna play with you how I like,” he strokes his cock as he looks down at you, “Open your legs, sugar.” You pout slightly, and he rolls his eyes at you, “Come on, sweetness, I’ll make you feel oh so good. Promise.”

You scowl at him lightly but open your legs for him, one of his hands moves to hold you open further. “You said you would fuck me,” you complain.

“I said maybe,” he counters.

He doesn’t wait for you to continue arguing with him, already moving his tip through your folds, he skates against your wet pussy and it has him shivering. He leans down over you, the length of his fat cock resting against your cunt, he holds himself up over you by his forearms. His hips begin slowly grinding down into you, everything is so slick and wet, your skin slipping against each other. He plants a kiss on your lips, his tongue entering your mouth straight away, wanting you to taste yourself. You moan into him, soft sighs also leaving you.

When he pulls back, you try again, “I want you, please.”

He groans, his hips stuttering, “You have me right now.”

“Want you inside me,” you nearly sob.

“Fuck– Not today,” his voice is hoarse.

“Always– mmph– always feel so empty,” your eyes are wet and glassy as you look at him, not so silently pleading, “Ngh– Wan you to fill me, please, Johnny.”

“Fucking– no, hnng– why– god– why do you want your first time to be now? Of all times?” He huffs against your skin, his cock painfully erect, throbbing and leaky for you.

“Don’t care mmph– don’t care when or where, just who,” a tear slips down your cheek, your need practically tearing you apart at the seams.

Johnny nearly whimpers, his cock jerking against you, his tip sliding over your clit makes your skin itch, the desire to be fucked full of him overwhelming you. It’s cruel, it feels heinously cruel how deprived of him you are, is it so much to ask to be so full of him you’re sobbing? You don’t think so, your breath stutters as he continues rocking back and forth between your folds.

“I care when and how,” he bites back, nearly snarling at you.

You share your frustration with him, loose lipped in your pleasure and need, “I jus wan –ngh– you to fuck me blind, I can’t, I need it– mmph– Johnny please!”

He actually does whimper this time, “Fuck– doll, you can’t– don’t do this to me,” he’s in such a weak state today, his desperation for you driving him insane.

The way you’re begging for him to stuff you full of his dick, is going to kill him, he already wants so badly to feel your tight, wet cunt wrapped around him but he wants to do it right. Your begging is chipping away at his resolve, his mind filling with images of how he’d stretch you out on his cock, how your eyes would roll back in your head as he fucks you just right.

His cock is making an absolute mess of you both, your lower halves completely coated in slick and cum, his head ducks down to look between the two of you. The underside of his cock glazed with your cum nearly sends him into a frenzy, he moans at the sight, forehead falling to rest on your sternum.

You hook your legs up on either side of his hips and he chokes at the change, his thrusts speeding up, one of his hands reaches down and digs into the fat of your thigh, nail biting into the skin. You gasp and whine, your mind slipping from you, you want to beg him more, you want to plead with him to have mercy but you’re not sure you can find the words anymore.

You sob over and over, begging him, “Please, please, please, please–”

He looks back at you, eyes sharp, “You’ll take what I fuckin give you or I’ll never touch you again,” he cautions, his tone harsh.

“Johnny~” you whimper, eyes large and dazed.

He tuts at you, his tone mocking, “Poor thing, not being satisfied sexually?”

You could almost cry, his words feel so mean.

He glares at you, “Know what I did while you were gone, sugar?”

You shake your head at him, a gasp leaving you as his cock head catches on your clit.

“Got me so fuckin– so needy,” he ridicules your usage of the word from earlier, “that I got hard at the sight of your panties on my bedroom floor.”

A strained and small noise leaves you, not at all expecting him to admit to something like that. His hand holds onto the side of your face and tilts you up to look at him, he’s looking down his nose at you and it really shouldn’t arouse you as much as it does. His hips don’t stop, never stopping, he couldn’t, not even to punish you, it’d be hell for him too. He needs this, it’s as close as he’s going to get to fucking you and he’d have to be put in the fucking ground before he’d remove himself from you, he needs you to cum on his cock like this.

“Wanna know what I did with them?” He asks suddenly.

You’re distant but not gone and you nod in response, curious.

He smiles evilly and leans down to whisper into your ear, “I fucked them, tugged on my cock until I came in them. Only thinking about your cunt and how fucking divine you taste, how badly I wanted to stick my tongue in you,” He licks the shell of your ear, “I think– ngh– that you’re getting off easy.”

“Johnny,” you whine at him, the only thing he’s succeeded in doing is making your hornier for him.

“One day. One day I will fuck you open on my cock but today and right now, you’re gonna fuckin behave and cum like this,” it’s a promise, one he intends to keep.

A shiver runs down your spine at how low and authoritative his tone is, a pathetic moan leaving you, one that Johnny doesn’t miss, not if his smile is anything to go by. He doubles his efforts into sliding his cock through your folds, his hips moving quicker, more weight put behind them, it makes you whine and wriggle under him. The hand he had on your face moves back to your hip and grips you tight, forcing you to stay still for him.

He's moving desperately, wanting so badly for you to cum like this, he wants to fuck his whole cock into you but is too damn stubborn to do it now, he doesn’t want your first time to be like this. His abs clench and twitch, his own end fast approaching him, his head leans down to your neck and remembers the other night, he pays extra attention to how close you’re getting, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he continues thrusting against you.

Your pussy is throbbing for him, you’re so unbelievable close and it has you seeing stars, Johnny can tell you’re right on the edge and just as you’re about to cum, he bites into the junction between your neck and shoulder, harder than the other night. Your cunt jumps at the shock of pain and you moan pitifully loud, tears that had been sitting in your water line slip down your cheeks as you spasm and cum for Johnny. He groans at the sounds you’re making for him, at the way your cunt gushes with your orgasm, making an absolute mess of yourself and his dick.

He holds off to let you ride out your high and then he’s pulling back onto his knees, jerking his cock while watching the way your pussy clenches on nothing, he whimpers and wishes he was fucking you full. In just this moment, he wishes he were a worse man but he settles for this, he fists his cock, and just as he’s about to cum he notches his tip at your entrance, not pushing in at all, just resting it there, his cum entering you as much as it can from this position.

You wriggle your hips at him, pushing down slightly, his hand immediately shoots out to push you down, knowing you’d absolutely attempt to take him all, even if it hurt. He can’t help how aroused that thought alone makes him, you’re willing to hurt yourself to take him all and it tugs at something ugly and primal inside him.

After he’s dumped his load on and partially in you, he pulls back, watching the way his cum has coated you. His finger moves to collect it and he begins pushing it inside you, his finger stretching you open as he stuffs you full of his cum.

The grip you have on him is making him lose his mind, “God, you’re so fucking tight.” He groans.

You can’t offer much else but blabbered words, nothing you say very coherent, not for lack of trying though.

Johnny only chuckles, amused by how stupid you are right now, he’s not able to control himself and he begins opening you up on both of his fingers, fucking you with them. His cum making it easy, his only aim was to fuck it into you but now he wants you cumming again, the sounds you make when you cum, they’re something he hopes he never forgets. He’s playing with you, his fingers leaving to spread his cum around some more before re-entering and pulling you apart by the very fibre of your being.

You’re whimpering at him, trying to tell him you’re sensitive, that it’s too much, that you’re going to cry but he either doesn’t understand or doesn’t care and based by how pleased he looks when you begin sobbing for him, you’d safely assume it’s the latter.

He smiles brilliantly at you, “You’re such a pretty doll.”

It’s too much, “I can’t– ngh–”

“–Hmmm? What was that?” He’s taunting you; he knows what you were going to say.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head, another orgasm already fast approaching you, sadly you think it’s significantly spurned on by how cruel he’s being to you. Your body shakes, your legs try to close but he holds them open easily, his eyes intently watching how you take his fingers.

“Sucking me right back in, got such a needy pussy, I swear,” his fingers move quicker, stroking into one spot that has you gasping out a shocked moan, “Making such a fuckin mess, sweetness, can you hear how fuckin messy you are, hmm?”

You can, the obscene noises of your shamefully wet cunt fill the room and you still find it in yourself to be embarrassed, even when reduced to a sobbing, whimpering, state. Your arm moves to cover your face and Johnny tuts at you, disapproving of the action.

He directs you, “Wanna see your pretty face, doll, keep looking right. at. me.”

Forcing yourself, you look at him, your eyes barely able to stay open, everything you see is blurry anyways. Johnny moves his thumb to circle your clit, you’re sensitive and it makes you jump, your instinct to move away, not that you get very far. He is insistent, his hand never slowing and his thumb never moving, the added stimulation has your stomach doing somersaults.

Your cunt clenches down on his fingers and Johnny groans at you, “Atta girl, there you fuckin go,” his voice is soft, encouraging.

Your orgasm wracks over your body, mind hazy and nowhere within reach, everything you moan out isn’t even close to sounding like words, the only coherent thing being Johnny’s name. Your back arches and he pins you back down again, his fingers and thumb still moving, aiding in your orgasm. It’s becoming too much but you can’t even move away from him, only able to take the overstimulation until he’s satisfied. Everything is… dark and you can’t hear a damn thing.

He does eventually show you mercy, removing his fingers from your pussy, he taps your clit a few times just to watch how you jump and spasm at the contact though, and then he really does pull back. His eyes stay on your cunt though, watching you for a moment before his gaze wanders all over your body, taking in how blissed and fucked out you look.

Wistfully, he murmurs, “I’m gonna shove my cock so deep inside you, you’ll feel me in your stomach.”

“Johnny–”

“–Not now but one day,” he laughs airily, leaning down to kiss you tenderly on the lips.

He gets off the bed and pulls on some pants, leaving to grab a cloth and water, you lay on his mattress completely gone, not a single thought in your head. When he comes back, he cleans you up and makes you drink the water.

“You make me drink a lot of water,” you mumble around the rim of the glass.

He’s watching you, completely charmed by you even though you’re a naked mess drinking water in his bed, “Need you to stay hydrated, don’t want you passing out on me.”

“Keep making me cum like that and I just might,” you pass him the almost empty glass and he places it on the nightstand. He hands you one of his t-shirts and you put it on, appreciating the cover.

“So… you’re into biting, huh?” He’s teasing you, his grin large.

You pout at him, “Don’t be mean… panty thief.”

“Oh, how you wound me, sugar,” his hands dramatically clasp at his chest over his heart. You roll your eyes at him and he instead asks, “Wanna watch a movie?”

“I am not moving,” you say, stretching your achy muscles out.

He offers, “What if I carry you?”

“…I could be amicable to that.”

“Yeah, I fuckin bet,” he chuckles but carries you to the lounge anyways.

The movie you end up watching is one of his, which should be a shock to no one, it’s not like you’re entirely conscious of the plot though, you’re still off in the clouds. Something Johnny admonishes you for, “Pay attention!”

You argue back, “I’m tired, plus I’ve seen this one before!”

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” he jokes.

“I could say the same to you,” you sigh, snuggling into his side, he wraps his arm around you and holds you close.

This is the most peaceful you have felt in a while, you feel safe and cared for and you think, you could stay like this forever.

✰ ✰ ✰

Thank you for reading it all !!!!! I know it was quite a lot to get through >v< Let me know your thoughts/feelings and reach out if you have questions !!! ily and have a beautiful day/night <33

#johnny cage x reader #johnny cage x reader smut #johnny cage smut #johnny cage mk1 #johnny cage x you #mk1 smut #mk smut

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pyrrhiccomedy · 2 months

Note

What sort of proof would you need to believe that a fundraiser was real?

I actually put in the legwork to verify one of these fundraisers today (I wanted to see how hard it was to actually vet one of these posts). It took about an hour, but I was satisfied by the end of it that the person in question exists, is who they are claiming to be, has a GoFundMe, and that the GoFundMe being spread around is probably the same one being linked to (I wasn't 100% satisfied by what I could find on that count? but I ended up in a place where I was reasonably confident). I'm happy to share my work, and have added it below.

I've gotten a lot of nasty messages since making that post accusing me of being anti-Palestine. My heart and money is 100% with Palestine, and I've given as much as I can afford, to reputable aid organizations. I believe both in a free Palestine, and doing your own research on the recipients of your money when you decide to financially contribute to a cause.

Anyway, this is the GoFundMe that I think is legit, and below is the legwork I did to reach that conclusion. While I still think it is better to give to a relief organization if your goal is improving the lot of the people in Gaza, I don't think this one is a scam.

This is the fundraiser for Eman Zaqout, who - first of all - is a real person! This is very easy to verify: Googling her name returns a LinkedIn with a complete work history (she is a molecular biologist), her profile with Unesco, and her profile with the Palestine Academy for Science & Technology. You know, the kind of stuff you'd expect to see when you Google someone. Great start.

Next step: Is the person running this GoFundMe the real Dr. Zaqout? (While I have some sources which say she is in a PhD fellowship and does not yet have her doctorate, she is listed as Dr. Zaqout at the Palestine Academy for Science & Technology, and I'd prefer to use the honorific in case it may in fact be more appropriate.)

So. Dr. Zaqout joined LinkedIn in 2014. And she does link to her Instagram from her LinkedIn, and her Instagram links to the GoFundMe. That's a great start!

However, it's worth mentioning that her contact information on LinkedIn was updated less than 3 months ago (which includes the link to her Instagram). Given the number of Palestinians whose accounts have been hacked or spoofed by scammers in order to lend their scams legitimacy, I don't love that change. That coincides with the surge in scam activity following the All Eyes on Rafah movement gaining momentum. Plenty of Palestinians have had their entire social media presences stolen by scammers.

However again - her LinkedIn (which, as established, may be compromised) also links to a TikTok account! And the TikTok account has video! And that sure looks to me like Dr. Zaqout in the video! While the photo of her on LinkedIn is no longer trustworthy since we know her account has been updated in the past 3 months, there is also a photo of her here at Palast.ps, which is a legitimate scientific organization. And yeah, sure, a dedicated scammer could have hacked that too, but there are also photos of her on LinkedIn that look like this:

It's not the best photo in the world, but it's identifiably her. Fabricating this kind of ephemera is more than I would expect of your typical charity scammer.

And in the most recent TikTok video of her, she's even talking about a GoFundMe, on 7/17! And she posted another video on 7/21 in which she is not seen, but you can hear her voice, and it does sound like her.

Today is August 2nd. The last two videos uploaded to Dr. Zaqout's TikTok are just photo collages, so they can't be used to verify that she still has control of her social media accounts. But for now, I'm prepared to say with some confidence that that woman is Dr. Eman Zaqout, that Dr. Zaqout is legitimately a Palestinian scientist, she did actually start a GoFundMe, and that she was posting about it as recently as 12 days ago.

All right all right, we are cooking folks. The last questions we need to answer: is this actually Dr. Zaqout's GoFundMe? The last scenario we need to rule out is that her social media presence was stolen in the last 12 days.

Let's start with that GoFundMe.

First of all, it's not being run by Dr. Zaqout. That's normal: GoFundMe isn't supported in Palestine, and all Palestinians will have to rely on friends or family abroad to set up their campaigns and collect donations on their behalf. This campaign is being run by a Mazin Fakak. I think that's supposed to be this Mazin Fakak, which makes sense; he is based in Quebec, and Dr. Zaqout either studied at or is in close affiliation with McGill University, which is in Quebec. He also lists Arabic as one of his spoken languages. So far this is a plausible connection for Dr. Zaqout to have. His LinkedIn profile also hasn't been updated in over a year, which makes me disinclined to think this is a recently-stolen scam account.

My one issue here is that when I Google Fakak, this is all that comes up. A LinkedIn profile created in 2014 that hasn't been touched in over a year, and two GoFundMe fundraisers for Palestinian families. And Dr. Zaqout never mentions Fakak anywhere. I would feel 100% confident of this fundraiser if she did.

But while my investigation into Fakak didn't turn up anything that confirms the connection to Zaqout, it also does nothing to disprove it, and the circumstantial evidence available to me lends credibility to the claim. So while I land somewhere around 80% on the verifiable credibility of this GoFundMe, please balance that against my 95%+ confidence in Zaqout's legitimacy, and the fact that she appears to still have control of her socials as of 12 days ago. If she posts on TikTok with another live video again (and not a photo slideshow, which can't be considered verification of anything), then I'd say this one is completely safe.

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metalhoops · 1 year

Text

“I think I’m seeing things, man,” Eddie spoke from his spot on the Harrington’s couch. His white skin appeared paler still against the brown leather.

Steve didn’t blame him. He was on all kinds of painkillers. It’d been two weeks since the world fell apart. Two weeks since Vecna disappeared. Two weeks since Eddie almost died.

Steve liked to treat those memories as others treated head-on collisions. It was better not to look at them directly. It was better to treat it like it’d never happened.

“What’re we looking at?” Steve asked from his spot on the floor, following Eddie’s line of sight to the gap in the curtains.

“Don’t know. Thought I saw somebody outside,” Eddie confessed.

The Harrington house had always been filled with spectres, whether that of partygoers, like front lawn flamingos in need of an exorcism or the body in the backyard pool. But those were Steve’s hang-ups, not Eddie’s.

If all it took to be a ghost was to haunt, Eddie might be included in the ranks of his own private phantasmagoria. He kept checking each night to make sure the boy was really there, that he’d really gotten out. People shouldn’t have that much blood in them, and they definitely shouldn’t have that much blood out of them.

Steve went to the window because that was something he could do for Eddie. He wasn’t sure why he kept feeling the need to apologise. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but hell if Steve knew if he’d done anything right either. He’d gotten Eddie out of the Upside Down. He’d put his hands inside the boy’s body, shoved his shirt beneath his skin and held it in the dark cavity that oozed and throbbed warm blood like the rise and fall of the tide.

Don’t think about it. Check the window. His hands at his side felt cold. He wondered if they’d ever be warm again. There was a figure across the street.

A boy in a basketball jersey circled passed the house.

Things never ended smoothly. Steve liked to think once Jason went down the rest of the vigilante crew would stop looking for Eddie, but there were some stragglers who hadn’t got the message.

Hopper had his hands full trying to clear Eddie’s name. Eddie’s uncle was still looking for him. The whole town was holding their breath in the midst of destruction, waiting for someone to blame. Steve shut the curtains, turned the lights off and moved to Eddie’s side in the darkness.

“Hounds of hell still circling then?” Eddie guessed after one glimpse at Steve’s face.

“I’ll call Hopper,” Steve reasoned, reaching up to squeeze Eddie’s knee. He wasn’t sure why he’d done it. Maybe to make sure he was real. Maybe to tell him he was sorry.

“Don’t worry about it, Steve,” Eddie spoke, reaching out and snagging the hem of Steve’s sweater.

“No one thinks I’m here. If the cops show up at the Harringtons’ it’s going to turn some heads,” Eddie reasoned, and he was right.

So where did that leave them? Sitting alone in the dark with Eddie fading in and out of sleep and Steve watching car headlights dance across the curtains, waiting for the moment everything went wrong.

“Steve?” Eddie breathed beside Steve’s ear in the blackness. He hadn’t realised they were so close.

“Yeah?” Steve moved his eyes from the window to look at Eddie.

“I think I’m crashing,” he noted, a grimace dancing across his face. Steve had never felt smaller.

“Doc said we’ve gotta wait six hours,” Steve replied, hoping he didn’t sound as worried as he felt.

“How long’s it been?”

“Three.”

Steve always wanted to appear cool in times of crisis, but he had no idea what he was doing. Some of the government agents Steve had signed countless NDAs for over the past four years had patched Eddie up as best they could and had started scrambling for a cover-up.

In the meantime, Eddie would stay at Steve’s place. It made the most sense. Eddie was nobody to Steve. No one would go looking for Eddie at the Harringtons’, and unlike the other older teens, he didn’t have parents to answer to. Big house. No parents. Perfect place to lie low.

Steve was nobody to Eddie and yet for the past week, they’d been an island unto themselves, trapped indoors together, watching shadows on the walls and trying to keep each other alive and sane. He felt completely unprepared.

“Alright. Come on. Let’s go to bed,” Steve muttered, kneeling in front of Eddie. He watched the boy rise to a sitting position over his shoulder. Eddie snorted.

“What exactly is the plan here, Steve?”

Eddie had been stuck oscillating between the living room, kitchen, and downstairs bathroom for days. They could both use a change of scenery.

“Piggyback,” Steve spoke, trying not to think about the connotations that the word had garnered. He wasn’t going to think about Vecna. Not today.

He expected the boy to argue, but instead, he felt Eddie’s arms snake around his throat. He held tight, but not as tight as he should. Steve had to hold on to his forearms like backpack straps as he stood. Eddie’s legs were stronger. They held firm around Steve’s waist.

Eddie’s head flopped against Steve’s shoulder blade, nuzzling into the space. He was warm as the sun. Too warm. He was running a temperature. Steve tried not to think of the last time he carried Eddie. The boy was uncharacteristically quiet. Steve needed to do something.

��Saddle up, buckeroo,” Steve spoke, hoisting Eddie further up his back. He felt a puff of air against his neck, a barely there laugh.

“Hi-yo, Silver,” Eddie grumbled against Steve’s skin.

Steve moved deftly through the dark, taking the staircase slowly and methodically. The last thing either of them needed was another broken bone.

“I think I owe you one once all this is over,” Eddie noted. Steve was already shaking his head.

“You stick around, and I’ll call it a favour. I think Henderson would kick my ass if you died.”

“The kid’s got spunk. I’ll give him that,” Eddie noted as the two reached the top of the stairs.

“He’s got an attitude and a problem with authority,” Steve corrected, taking Eddie to his bedroom.

He moved to the edge of his bed and let Eddie extract himself. When they broke apart, Steve felt cold again.

“That’s our boy,” Eddie chuckled, shooting Steve a lopsided smirk. He was definitely still high on painkillers.

Steve rolled his eyes and helped lower Eddie down onto his favourite pillow, the one worn down with age but all the more comfortable for it. He pulled the covers up around the boy’s shoulders.

“Yeah, our boy,” Steve echoed in a too-fond tone.

He’d never let Henderson hear the term of affection. The kid had a big enough head as it was, but in the too-quiet world of just himself and Eddie, he felt okay admitting it. Once it looked like Eddie was settled in, Steve sat on the edge of his bed, feeling as he always did, like a stranger in his own home.

“When did you last get some shut-eye, boy wonder?” Eddie asked, his foot tucking beneath Steve’s thigh.

Friday. What day was it? Sunday. Not good.

“Well, come on then, don’t make a guy beg. Lay down, Steve. It’s your bed. I could sleep in the spare room if it’s a problem.” There was something cautious about the offer Steve didn’t understand.

He flopped down beside Eddie, so close the two shared a pillow. It changed the shape of the thing. It made the familiar strange.

“You know, I had this dream last night,” Eddie began, his dark eyes still open, glued to the ceiling. He cringed, knowing all the ways dreams could go bad, but Eddie shook his head.

“Not that kind of dream,” He insisted, his hands balling into fists on the bedsheets.

“I had a dream I was a pinball machine,” the boy stated plainly. The absurdity of the statement shocked a laugh out of Steve.

“These painkillers are legit, Harrington,” Eddie spoke, shooting Steve a sidelong glance.

“What kind of pinball machine?”

“You know the Centaur one? It’s black and white, mostly. The arts got this topless guy who’s half man, half motorbike,” Eddie explained.

Steve had no idea what he was saying, but it was nice to hear him talk.

“Wait, if you were the pinball machine, how did you know what you looked like?”

“Great question Steven. I’ve got no clue. Dream logic,” Eddie reasoned.

Steve screwed up his nose at the use of his full name. Only his dad called him Steven. Eddie raised a brow, seeming to take note. One of them had shifted closer. Steve wasn’t sure who. Eddie’s hand brushed against his side as he played with the sheets.

“Remind me again why I needed to know about your pinball dream?” Steve asked. The sound of the wind in the trees outside his bedroom window set his teeth on edge.

“Because you’re too damn serious and I thought it’d make you smile... Which it did.” Eddie added the last part in quietly and Steve rolled his eyes.

Eddie craned his head to look around Steve’s room before screwing up his nose.

“Anyone ever told you your wallpaper is gaudy as hell? Your curtains match your walls. Dude, I thought rich people were meant to have taste,” he observed, the boys’ shoulders pressed together.

“This coming from the guy who eats cereal out of the box with his hands,” Steve countered, no heat in his voice.

“Are you still mad I used to stand on your lunch table?” Eddie muttered, shoving Steve’s shoulder before tensing. When had Steve last checked his dressings?

He flipped the bedside lamp on, leaning over Eddie to do so. He’d been helping the guy shower for days now. Privacy was a word reserved for other people. Intimacy was a necessity.

“Once you stood in my mashed potatoes. It was disgusting,” Steve uttered, gently peeling up the hem of Eddie’s tee shirt. Really, it was Steve’s, but it seemed strange to make distinctions.

Eddie’s eyes trailed down to Steve’s fingers, half-hooded and slowed with sleep or inebriation, Steve didn’t know which. He wondered how much of all this Eddie would remember when he got better. He would get better.

“You never ate the potatoes. You’d bring your stupid bagels from home,” Eddie remarked, as Steve carefully unwound the bandage and gauze. It was stained brown with dried blood, but it looked better than it’d been a few days before, no longer as red or swollen.

The bagel comment made Steve look up. Seemed like Robin wasn’t the only one that’d been watching him. Maybe Eddie had a crush on Tammy Thompson, too. Maybe it was something else. Steve’s friends had crappy taste in women. Eddie could do better.

“What’s the verdict, doc?” Eddie questioned, noticing Steve’s sudden silence.

He cleaned the wounds as best he could. Eddie’s fingers had found their way to Steve’s thigh, gripping so tight he thought it would bruise. It would be another to add to the collection. Steve hadn’t been thinking of how his battle wounds were healing. He was in triage mode. Eddie’s wounds were worse than his.

“We're going to have to amputate,” Steve deadpanned as he found the first aid kit he’d hidden beneath his bed years before, starting to redress the wound.

“How the hell can you amputate a side?” Eddie asked with a shaky laugh, his breathing more ragged again.

“Well, you see, there’s this new experimental procedure that lets you transplant your brain into a pinball machine,” Steve began and felt Eddie’s elbow in his side.

“Screw you.”

Steve laid back beside Eddie, less space between them than before, if it was at all possible. They braced against each other, the contact grounding Steve. Eddie was alive. He was alive. Maybe one day they could look at each other and not think about death. That day wasn’t today, but Steve could hope for it.

As Eddie drifted to sleep, his head fell on Steve’s shoulder. He wouldn’t sleep for long that night, but he was used to that. He knew the weeks and months after a run-in with the Upside Down were full of fitful sleep and nightmares, but they never lasted.

On a long enough timeline, you could get used to anything. It was strange how short that timeline was when it came to getting used to Eddie.

More days came and went with the same imperfect routines. The two boys woke at all hours of the night and spent the daylight hours behind closed curtains, trying to heal.

By the third day, Steve got sick of the quiet. A sombre mood hung over them, shifting and changing like the phases of the moon. It never entirely disappeared, but there were moments it seemed almost absent.

One of these such moments arose when Steve hijacked the boombox from the living room and dragged it upstairs to his bedroom, where a slowly healing Eddie sat bored out of his mind, aching and itchy. Steve knew the feeling. The wound on his neck had scabbed and begun to fade into a scar.

“Hey, Munson?” Steve spoke, sitting beside Eddie, spreading his tape collection between them.

“You wanna hear some real music?” He asked, watching Eddie’s nose scrunch and his teeth worry away at his bottom lip.

“These are all horrible, Harrington.”

Eddie turned over several cassettes in his hand, treating them gently as though they were something special.

“You have every WHAM! album, dude. The Outfield. Halls & Oats. Tears for Fears,” Eddie listed off, his tone one of disgust.

“You’re going to have to pick something, or I’ll pick WHAM! out of spite.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and shuffled through the tapes, tossing one Steve’s way.

“Bowie isn’t horrible,” Eddie mumbled as Steve placed The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars, into the player.

The two sat shoulder to shoulder, as always, listening to the quiet swell of drums. Steve realised too late it was a song about the end of the world. He realised, later still, that it was a love song. Eddie’s fingers drummed against his knee. Steve tried to ignore the way the action made his heart swell.

Steve couldn’t sit still any longer as Moonaged Daydream began. He remembered another life in Nancy Wheeler’s garage, asking her to pretend things were normal for a couple of hours. God, he wanted that. He needed a few normal hours.

He wasn’t the same person he’d been back then, but parts of him had stayed the same. He didn’t know how to change them. Nancy Wheeler faced problems head-on, but Steve? The passage of time had taught him how to stand his ground in the face of danger, but he hadn’t yet learned how to stop being chased.

He caught Eddie’s eye and watched as a wicked grin spread across his face. Without words, he knew exactly what Steve was about to do. He grabbed the nail bat he kept by the bed, the same one from the Wheeler’s garage and sang, using the gnarly weapon as his makeshift microphone. He was a little too loud and a little off-tune. He sang about alligators and space invaders, lyrics he knew off by heart, without understanding them.

He watched as a grin threatened to crack Eddie’s face in two. There was a reckless abandon to his smile. It was different from the glazed-eyed, half-high smiles of the past week. His eyes were keen and sharp as he watched Steve fling himself across the room in the way only someone who’d learned to dance drunk could.

By the time the album finished, he’d worked up a sweat. Eddie joined in, singing a couple of lines when he could before tugging Steve back to bed, his hand in Steve’s hair, smoothing it back in place. The action was intimate, yet familiar.

“Alright, Starman. Maybe Bowie doesn’t suck so hard, but when I’m not on the run from the law, I’m going to show you what real music sounds like.”

“Promise?” Steve asked, his chest heaving.

Then, Eddie did something so unlike anything the populous of Hawkins would expect. To them, he was a Satanist and a murderer. Steve had always known better, but he’d seen Eddie as a wildcard. He was loud and rough around the edges, but he also had the capability of being endearing when the moment called for it. Still, Steve had never expected Eddie to roll over, extend his pinkie and link their little fingers together.

“I promise,” He assured, placing his lips to the knuckle of his thumb as though sealing the deal.

The action was equal parts childlike and intense. Steve looked down at their interlaced fingers and knew he was in over his head. Warmth pooled in Steve’s fingertips.

“Eds, I—,” A knock at the downstairs door made the words die on Steve’s lips. The boys pulled apart. Steve was cold.

“I’ll get it,” Steve spoke, picking up the discarded nail bat and trudging down the stairs.

He hoped it was one of the door-knocking jocks. Some primal part of him felt like hitting something. Years before, he would have questioned if he was the kind of person who could do it, but now he knew he could.

Steve clutched at the bat hidden behind his back as he swung open the door, coming face-to-face with an older man dressed in too-short jean shorts, holding an armful of paper bags. He looked familiar. He’d seen the man with Hopper. A furrow etched its way onto his brow.

“Aren’t you going to let your beloved uncle in, Steve?” The man spoke, loud enough for the people in the next neighbourhood to hear.

“Right,” Steve mumbled, pushing the door open and stepping to the side.

The man walked through the house as though he’d grown up within their walls, dropping the paper bags on the countertop, switching on the lights and examining the space.

“Hopper sent me with supplies. It’d draw too much attention having the feds at your front door, but a visit from your favourite Uncle Murray? That’s incognito. I’ve got groceries and painkillers, slipped in some vodka too, on the house. Personally, I was thinking of making my homemade ravioli for dinner. Trust me, it’s to die for. Where’s the other one by the way?” The man, Murray, breathed, spinning on his heels to examine the interior of the house. Steve let his nail bat fall to the floor.

“You really should invest in a gun, kid...Was I interrupting something?” The older man asked, gesturing absentmindedly to his balding head. Steve touched his hair and found it still out of place. He ran his fingers through it in an attempt to tame it.

“No, we... I was sleeping. Eddie’s upstairs. I think he’s okay, but I could use another set of eyes. I don’t know exactly what I’m doing here. Are you staying?”

“I’m just staying for dinner. It’d look strange if your uncle only showed up for a few minutes, wouldn’t it?” Steve didn’t dignify that with an answer.

“There’s the man of the hour,” Murray spoke, glancing up at the top of the staircase where Eddie stood, leaning heavily on the banister.

“What happened to staying up there?” Steve spoke through gritted teeth, making his way back up the stairs.

“You were taking too long,” Eddie muttered with an unbothered shrug.

“And if it’d been one of Jason’s asshole friends, we’d have been screwed,” Steve rebutted, letting Eddie lean on him as they made their way to Murray in the kitchen. At least he could walk.

“But it wasn’t,” Eddie huffed, his breath warm on Steve’s neck.

Steve kicked out one of the kitchen chairs and lowered Eddie into it. The older man watched them as a scientist observes a specimen. There was a morbid fascination to it.

“I see you two are getting along well,” He spoke.

He’d found where Steve’s mother had stored their pots and had begun some strange kitchen alchemy. Steve had made risotto. This guy looked like he was completing a summoning ritual. The ingredients were splayed out on the countertop like objects of adoration.

Steve sat down in the chair beside Eddie. It felt strange having someone else in the house. For what seemed like a lifetime, his world had consisted of one other person. He missed Robin, Dustin, and the rest of the kids, but he hadn’t let himself dwell on it. He’d known their isolation couldn’t last forever, but he’d never have guessed Murray would be the first person he’d see.

“Tense mood. Why is it I always end up in the middle of couples in denial?” Murray breathed to himself.

Eddie’s head snapped up with a speed Steve hadn’t seen him manage all week. Steve didn’t look at Murray, he was too busy trying to unpick the pained look on Eddie’s face. His eyes searched the boy’s body for some torn open wound he’d missed.

“What? Don’t look so surprised. Contrary to what kids these days think, we did have homosexuality in the sixties,” Murray informed before pausing. He gave Steve a once-over that made his skin crawl. He felt as though he were a bug, pinned beneath a glass plate.

“And bisexuality,” He clarified.

Steve averted his eyes and reached over to squeeze Eddie’s knee. He was hopelessly lost in the conversation, but he knew something was wrong with Eddie. The boy jumped at the sudden contact and Steve pulled his hand away as though burnt.

“So, what’s the problem? Still in denial?” Murray asked, levelling Steve with a knowing look. He scowled back at the man, ready for him to leave.

“No. I think you know how you feel, maybe even how he feels.” Steve didn’t know how to respond.

“You, however,” Murray continued, turning his attention to Eddie, the boiling pot on the stove, forgotten.

“I don’t think you have a clue. Self-esteem issues, maybe. You try to hide it, but you couldn’t imagine that someone in a house like this would look at you twice.”

“What the hell, man?” Eddie breathed with a huff of indignation. Murray showed no signs of stopping. His eyes were back on Steve.

“So, what’s holding you back? You got your heart broken after Nancy Wheeler. Let me guess, you keep saying how much you want commitment, but you keep dating the wrong people, people who don’t want to be tied down. That, my boy, is self-sabotage and him,” Murray spoke, indicating Eddie with a wooden spoon he’d been using to stir the rice.

“He looks like a long-haul kind of guy.”

“Dude,” Eddie interjected.

“What? You’re both obviously attracted to one another. Don’t lie. I have eyes. You’re telling me that all this near-death stuff hasn’t made you re-evaluate your life a little? It’s just been you two, locked away together at the end of the world, helping each other heal. Seeking comfort in one another. You’ve got shared trauma. That kind of thing bonds you for life.”

“Leave it alone,” Steve said, standing as he spoke. The chair scraped on the tile floor. A nails on a chalkboard kind of sound.

Steve pushed past the older man, pulled the pot off the stove, and let a tense silence settle over the three of them. The subsequent dinner dragged on in uncomfortable silence. Steve and Eddie kept their eyes glued to their plates. Murray talked but neither paid attention. He gave Eddie’s wounds a once over, appearing as lost as Steve. He didn’t seem concerned, so Steve took it as a good thing.

He thought he’d known what tense silence between himself, and Eddie felt like, but he’d known nothing compared to the moment Murray left. His whole body was on edge. Eddie wouldn’t meet his eyes. They needed to talk, but neither wanted to be the first to cave.

“I was thinking of turning in early,” Steve spoke, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah. Me too.”

The boys lay side by side, but sleep didn’t come. Eddie’s body was wound tight as a tourniquet. This time, Steve was the one bleeding out.

He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. Maybe that he was sorry. Murray was right. Steve had known Eddie liked him and he hadn’t said anything because it wasn’t a problem he could throw himself in front of. It’d be easier if he thought telling Eddie would end up with him getting hit. There were worse things.

Eddie’s feelings had become more apparent as their time together wore on, but on some level, Steve had known long before. When Eddie had leaned over into his space smelling of cigarette ash, dried earth and sweat and called Steve some god-awful pet name, he’d known. He also knew the feelings weren’t one-sided.

That revelation came later. Eddie had been fading in and out of consciousness. Steve had shaken him awake to redress his wounds when it happened. The boy awoke, shooting him a lopsided grin, gazing at Steve with his drowsy, doe eyes.

He’d crooned, ‘Good morning sunshine’. And that had been enough.

Steve’s heart had stuttered to a halt as it had all the times before when a pretty girl had called him a prettier name.

As much as Steve hated to admit it, Murray had been right about a lot of things. There was one thing Steve desperately wanted him to be wrong about.

He and Eddie were bonded because of what they’d been through. That’s what the man had said. Shared trauma. Was that all they were?

Steve was back in the bathroom with Nancy, her white shirt, red. The whites of his eyes the moment she left, red.

He knew where shared trauma got him. He’d try to bury it. To move past it. He wanted to be more than what was done to him. People would say he was running. He was bullshit.

How was he meant to sit with the kind of stuff he and Eddie had been through? How was he meant to fight it? Would Steve always look at Eddie and see his death? Would Eddie always look at Steve and feel like dying?

“I wished I’d met you later,” Steve spoke to the dark room. Eddie’s locked body loosened, and as it did, he started to shake. In a moment, he’d start to bleed too.

“You know, normally people say they wished they’d met you sooner.”

“I mean... I wish we’d met after everything with The Upside Down. That you hadn’t gotten dragged into it. I wish that we’d gotten to know each other the normal way,” Steve explained. Eddie snorted.

“Can you imagine me doing anything the normal way?” He had a point.

Steve didn’t know how to say what he wanted to say. The silence was back, looming large as a lunar eclipse.

“You aren’t... weirded out by what he said? About me liking you?” Eddie’s voice was small. The only time Steve heard Eddie whisper was when he was dying.

“I think he also said something about me liking you back,” Steve replied, glancing at Eddie’s profile only to find the man was already watching him. His face was contorted in confusion.

“Then... what’s the problem here, Stevie?”

Steve had never been good with his words.

“What if we’ve ruined it?” He tried. At seeing a frown cross Eddie’s face, he knew he hadn’t done a good enough job at explaining.

“With what’s happened between me and you. You never would’ve looked at me twice if I hadn’t saved you, and what if that’s all we’ve got? Shared trauma.”

Bullshit. What if all they had was bullshit? Eddie finally understood.

“I don’t like you because you saved me, Steve. I like you because despite all the terrible shit you make me want to laugh. I love that you’re shit at dancing, but you do it anyway. Also, screw that guy your risotto is better than his. You’re a good cook. Your stupid hair makes me want to slam my head in a car door and before you say anything, that’s a compliment. You care so damn much about everyone.” To Steve’s surprise, Eddie’s hand reached up to touch his cheek.

“I don’t like you because we’ve been through bad shit together. I like you because you make me feel like one day, we’re going to get out on the other side of it, that things aren’t going to be like this forever,” Eddie finished.

Steve’s heart was a cardinal, beating itself bloody against a windowpane.

“Can I kiss you?” Steve breathed. For the first time in a long time, he was nervous.

Eddie’s smile was a lightning strike, bright, beautiful and something they’d shape gods after.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Eddie’s lips were warm.

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feistyvirghoe · 1 month

Text

i feel like as a reader myself, we shouldn’t let our personal biases interfere with the reading we’re giving. like everyone is different dude, no one is perfect and we’re all flawed bro, let people be…

idk why but there’s this like spiritual narcissism going on, and i’ve noticed it this year, people who have more experience in this field acting as if they’re better than people bc they “know” more like girl if you don’t stfu 💀

like people seem like they just want to lecture people nowadays, and i’m not trying to come off as “sensitive” but it’s not “tough love” it’s literally you lecturing people and making it seem as if there’s something wrong w that group, these readings are general and for so many people, can we calm down w this

and i feel like we need to realize that we are all on different timelines fr, ive just noticed some readings are just like jabs instead of you trying to help your audience, you’re like ridiculing them instead of giving helpful advice… i mean do you but why so rude and crass, apathetic???

because you can be reading for someone and tapping into their past self and what happened and then you go off of that and start shitting on them, but of course how would you know?? i just feel like we need more compassion in this community, it’s gotten too fucking rigid and inflexible…which is sad

i’m all for real and raw fucking readings, in depth ones too i love long readings but i wish some of yall were more kind about it, i understand this being serious, it is, shit is no joke, but what’s up w this secret animosity, competition, thinking your way should be the only way to do things, like who fucking cares bro?

idk i feel like we like to judge shit as soon as it comes our way and have these intense opinions, ready to pop off at the mouth…maybe i’m too “nice” “naive” whatever, im just sick of seeing these washed up debates on who should be doing what and how they should be doing it…

is everyone okay??? i don’t think so, a lot of hurt people, and we unironically project, let’s not you know. it’s okay to be kind, honest and respectful.

if you don’t like it, that’s okay, no need to be so fucking rude, esp when you don’t even know these people…just move on and scroll, i feel like we’re doing ourselves dirty by engaging with triggering topics and making ourselves angry, ive been doing it and then i came to the realization that i don’t have to take that reading as if it’s really set in stone

don’t let nobody, not even me, try and make u feel like that’s the end all be all, no no no, i am just a messenger, a guide, you have to think for yourself…don’t beat yourself up over a reading, ive done it and realized “kaali, this isn’t the end” “you can grow and heal from this” “i will be okay, this is helping me to learn more and take a better understanding approach.”

i just don’t want people thinking that everything is set in stone, the story always changes and blossoms into something more than what you’re seeing on the surface. these aren’t personal readings so don’t hurt your pretty lil head worrying about this or that, if it applies to you let it and if it doesn’t don’t force the message okay, use your discernment mwah💓

#feistyvirghoe #black tarot readers #pick a card #tarot readings #tarotblr

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cadavercrafts · 6 months

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I hate to start drama so please forgive me, but why would you create a figure of a character (Valentino) that is a rapist? Even if they're fictional, I think it sends a really bad message.

No offense taken at all, anon, but this will be a long one! I heard of other people who like villains getting similar messages but i've never gotten one myself despite all the things i've made fanart for in the past. So i'm almost happy to talk about this?

It's 100% fine to hate certain fictional characters and just not wanting to see them at all. I think many people (especially with trauma) can relate to seeing a character in media that just makes them feel sick, i sure know some! But you're also talking to a dedicated horror nerd here. I have an expensive action figure of a monster-pregnant half skinned man in my shelf, anon. Rape doesn't even BEGIN to cover what some of the characters i like have been doing in their little fake freakworlds.

I love to explore horror and dark themes because fiction gives you a space to do this in a secure controlled environment and that's why it's so wonderful. We all have different levels of hard topics we can handle but if something is too much for you you can step away, shut it off and you are free and safe. No, i would not enjoy to be skinned alive for real and i don't think it's a very nice thing to do to others either, i have zero sympathy or interest in real life criminals. But Hellraiser is still a neat book!

I'm an adult and I'm able to freely chose what kind of themes and media i want to interact with and so are you. I mean, i don't know if you're an adult, but you have the power to chose regardless. My nickname is CADAVERcrafts and i made so so so so much fanart for awful villains before, ones who did way worse things than Valentino. Ripping heads off, killing kids, eating people- you know, the usual! I'm afraid you're not gonna like many things i'll make in the future but i always tag everything so you can absolutely avoid it by putting it on your blacklist. No Valentino jumpscares on your dash from me!

To be quite honest i thought of a lot of kinda funny dismissive replies at first but i don't want to shit on people who are genuinly upset. If you want something trigger tagged in the future just shoot me a message, i like to claim i'm not nearly as much of an asshole as the characters i make in clay. And if you just can't stand it then unfollow me, throw me in the bin! I'm just some online weirdo, you don't need me in your life if my works make you sad. Toss it, it's cool, this is your playzone and you get to decide who gets in!

#anon #ask #not art #blood #violence #rape

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 5 months

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AITA for killing my character and quitting a D&D game I was part of?

Apologies in advance but this is going to be rather long, I'll put a TL;DR at the bottom.

So this all started about eleven months ago when I (14, she/they/he) started getting into D&D, and joined a D&D group thanks to a friend of mine we'll call T (14, he/they). The group was made up of about five people total, but the main people in this situation are me, T, and the DM who we'll call N (15, he/him).

Now when I was making my character, T was helping me out by letting me describe what sort of character I wanted and suggesting different races, classes etc to make it work how I wanted, and what we ended up with was a Pact of the Undead warlock. The backstory of my character was that their older brother died defending them from an invasion of the village they lived in.

My character managed to make contact with their spirit in the afterlife and formed a "pact" with them, gaining power in exchange for letting him "look after them" (i.e. keep watch over them from the afterlife, protect them from harm, all that sorta thing). T told me to run the final concept past N but that they were sure it'd be allowed and that the pact idea was really sweet.

So I told N about my character and the backstory idea like T suggested and N seemed really on board with the whole thing, though he wanted to make a few slight changes to things in secret that would come up during the campaign, to make things more exciting I guess.

I told him I was alright with that, as long as nothing about who the pact was with and what it was for changed too much. He assured me that it wouldn't and that he'd get back to me on what changes he was planning, but he never did, and at the time I just put that down to him being busy.

The campaign starts, and for the first few months things are going pretty good. I do notice that a lot of NPCs, in fact nearly every non-child NPC, seems to be flirting(?) with my character, but I don't think too much of it at first, she is a young elven woman with blonde hair and silver eyes and everyone in the group has said that she's very pretty.

It isn't until one of the others who is also playing an elven character points out that they've been on the receiving end of essentially racism towards elves from NPCs who have simultaneously been showering my character with compliments that I start realizing how frequent and honestly rather obsessive it is, and as mentioned, just how many of the NPCs are doing it.

Then we get to T's character arc, exploring his character's backstory and helping them with things that come up. However, there are certain characters that are introduced that, out of character, T reacts rather negatively to, and when I ask him outside of session what's going on he confides in me that N is changing elements of his backstory that he'd told him he didn't want changing. As an example, T wrote that their character's mother was never part of their character's life growing up.

One of the characters we met was the character's mother, who was instead apparently a very prominent part of their life and cared greatly about them "not that they ever noticed". He also changed the character of T's father from "kind and caring man who did his best to raise his child alone and teach them how to defend themselves" to "stubborn, angry and neglectful father that is constantly disappointed in his son", which completely blindsided and upset T.

T also said that he'd tried talking to N about this but that the response had ended up being, to put it bluntly, "I'm the DM so I have the final say in things". This started to worry me, especially when I realized that N had never gotten back to me with his "proposed changes" to my backstory.

So I sent him a message, but because I didn't want to drag T into my own business with N I decided to say something along the lines of "hey, did you ever figure out what you wanted to change about my backstory?". He messaged back and said that he'd figured it out, but that things with school were so busy that he hadn't had time to sit down and properly write it all out to send to me yet, but assured me that he would by the time T's arc was over.

Several more months passed with no further word from N about my character's backstory, and as T's arc wraps up there's this idea that starts getting brought up, of how demons often exploit the grief of mortals to latch onto them and claim their souls by impersonating the dead person.

The others in the group all latch onto this and start speculating about how exactly the demons use impersonation to claim souls, except for T who gives me this rather worried look from across the table, and it suddenly hits me that this is probably meant to be the opening of my character arc.

I pull N aside after the game is over for the night and ask him directly if this is the opening to my character arc, and he says that it is, but not to worry because the demon thing is, to quote, "just being brought up to get the others interested". I remind him about what I told him about not wanting anything to change about who the pact was with and what it was for, and ask him again what changes he's made to my backstory.

He promises he'll have a full list to me by the start of next session, that we'll have time to sit down together and discuss it all even, and that he won't do anything I don't want him to do. Despite my concerns and the fact that he has already said several times he'll send me this list without doing it, I decide, like a fool, to trust him, even though in hindsight I had absolutely no reason to by this point.

The next session rolls around, and of course there's no list, instead a lot of NPCs who start voicing concern whenever my character brings up the fact she's a warlock, or her dead brother, especially if the pair come up in quick succession. One of the other characters figures out what's going on and asks if they can basically cast some sort of spell to determine if a demon's got control of my soul, which N agrees to, and the spell determines that yes, that's exactly what's going on.

I immediately confront N, mid-session, and tell him outright that this isn't fair, that I told him I didn't want him to change this part of my backstory, and I wanted him to change it back immediately or I wasn't going to play anymore. He started on this long-winded response basically summarizing as "I'm the DM, I can do what I want".

This is the part where I may be the asshole, because well, I saw red in that moment, and decided I not only wanted to follow through on my threat of quitting, but also do something to ensure that my point was driven home.

I fired off a quick message to T on my phone warning him what I was about to do, and while the others were talking about what to do to help me I loudly announced that my character was stabbing herself through the heart, which N had previously ruled would be an instant method of death if carried out.

Silence falls over the group. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even hit, which I argue (with T backing me up) that if my character is willing to get hurt then it's automatically a hit. N tells me that I need to roll to see if I even pierce my heart. Okay, fine, I roll, and as luck would have it I roll a Nat 20. N attempts to send me just to death saves, but I remind him (again, with T backing me up) that he'd ruled that this was an instant death.

So then he tries to have an NPC cleric show up and revive my character, but T brings up that the soul has to be willing to return to life for that to work, and I immediately say that my character wouldn't even be able to consent to that if her soul was held by a demon, nor would she even be willing if she could. Then I tell N directly that he can consider this my official resignation from the group and walk out, and T follows along behind me after a few minutes.

Ever since then N's been blowing up my phone, fluctuating between begging for me to rejoin the group and promising that he'll do things differently this time, and calling me a selfish bastard for "ruining the fun". T still goes to sessions occasionally, though I think now it's just to spectate, and he's said that maybe things went a little far with the character death in hindsight. And honestly, I'm not exactly proud of how I acted now either.

TL;DR -- I joined a D&D campaign where the DM has made unwanted changes to my character's backstory, despite my attempts to communicate with him, so I retaliated by killing my character mid-session and refusing to let him revive her before quitting. AITA?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw #not sure if it's needed for a dnd character death but just to be safe

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blurbfics · 6 days

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There'd Better Be a Mirrorball | Azriel x OFC [part three]

Summary: Girls' brunch!

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: swearing, description of scars, light self-deprecation in reference to past abuse (this sounds harsher than it is, really), Gwyn crushing on Azriel, accidental outing of someone else, piercings, Cassian hurting someone's feelings

Minors, do not interact

A/N: im so happy this story has gotten some attention! i was half expecting it to just go in the internet void but if only one person is enjoying then thats enough for me. enjoy some light gay content

part two

"'Cause you're just a man

It's just what you do

Your head in your hands as you color me blue."

Lana Del Rey, Norman fucking Rockwell

“-And he smiled at me! I really think he liked it,” Gwyn gushed, popping a blueberry into her mouth before reaching over for the cinnamon butter to spread over her slice of toast.

“How can you tell?” Eowyn asked curiously, licking at the muffin crumbs in the corner of her mouth, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him show emotion before.”

Nesta and Gwyn laughed at that, both nodding their heads.

“I guess you just have to pay attention,” Gwyn replied mildly, shrugging.

It had been two days since her venture out into the city and all had been exactly the same as it was before, other than the minuscule shift between the Illyrians and herself. It wasn’t a drastic change, or anything particularly noteworthy for any other person, but considering the fact that the only people Eowyn spoke to on a daily basis consisted of Clotho, Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie, with the exception of a priestess here and there that either delivered a message from Clotho or asked where she’d left a parchment, she did, of course, take notice.

While Azriel remained as emotionless and distant as he’d always been, she’d developed somewhat of an awareness of him. It was random and rather irritating to have that small sliver of consciousness of his nearness, especially when she was supposed to be partaking in the Valkyrie breathing exercises they practiced during their breaks from the grueling training, but for some reason, she simply knew when he was there. To her right, only a short distance away, or towards the far left corner of the ring — she was even half convinced she could feel when he approached, like some kind of echo-location. And then there were the times where she’d discreetly glance at him, from under her veil, unnoticed by anyone looking at her, only to find his eyes already set on her.

As if feeling her gaze, he was always quick to look away, in such a smooth manner she couldn’t quite be certain he was looking at her at all.

And then there was Cassian, who had already become more familiar with her the more time she spent with Nesta, and who had taken a particular liking to calling her ‘Wynnie.’ She’d made sure not to correct him on the name again, not wanting to encourage him to use it even more, but she had already accepted her fate and knew there was no going back. He’d been just so boisterous and happy when he spoke to her, slapping a heavy hard hand on her shoulder as greeting and had begun a light sort of teasing with her that it just felt wrong to deny him something so small.

Finally carrying out her promise to set up a luncheon, Nesta had the girls join her in the House of Wind kitchen to eat after a particularly grueling day's training. Emerie had mysteriously disappeared soon after training was over.

“Is Emerie not joining us?” Eowyn wondered, glancing at the door once more, half expecting the Illyrian female— or anyone, really— to come in any second, still feeling slightly panicked at the thought of anyone seeing her. They'd been eating for a while now and the Valkyrie had yet to appear.

She had been reluctant to join her friends for lunch, not because she didn’t want to join them, but rather out of diffidence, for their reactions to her unveiled face or the questions they might ask.

But Gwyn, like the majority of the priestesses, had already seen her uncovered face and knew better than to ask her about her past, Emerie was currently gone and Nesta? She had barely blinked at her, eyes going immediately to her nose instead.

Her sharp gray blue eyes had barely scanned her face in a fraction of a second before they focused on the center of her face, “what the fuck is that?” Her eyes widened slightly in a very un-Nesta like way, “on your nose?” She added quickly, not even giving Eowyn enough time to take offense or feel remotely ashamed.

But Nesta’s blunt question caused her mind to go blank for a second. Her nose?

She had let out a tuh sound of incredulity, “I’m showing you my fucked up face and you’re asking about the jewelry on my nose?”

“Is that what it is?” Nesta tilted her head to the side, “I’ve never seen anything like it. As for your face, I see nothing wrong with it. I’d say you even give Elain a run for her money.”

Something had ignited inside Eowyn then. Not the tinge of fraternal irritation Cassian had drawn out of her by calling her by a long forgotten nickname, but by the insinuation that she— with the jagged distorted scars pulling from the corners of her mouth, one ending in the outer center of her cheek, while the other extended longer and higher, almost to her cheekbone— could even compare to the flawless beauty and unsullied brightness that was Elain Archeron.

But the feeling itself— the sharp anger that rose within her was immediately thwarted by the recognition of the emotion itself. How long had it been since she’d felt something so powerful, so passionate, something that was once so familiar? Something that had been her second nature? Had it truly been over a century since she’d been anything but detached and apathetic?

Gwyn had been quick to come to her defense, although for an entirely different reason than what she assumed. “It's a great honor to bear jewelry on that part of the nose, known as the septum” she lit up, pleased to have the opportunity to share her knowledge, “septums are only bestowed upon those that have dedicated some of their eternal fae life to their studies.”

Septganiums, Eowyn mentally corrected, but figured it didn’t really matter.

Nesta squinted at her, a curious human characteristic that Eowyn found quite endearing. “But you have two rings.”

“They symbolize every seventy-year cycle, based on the location and the name itself, the sept-um. It’s also kind of a joke… to pierce that which is always buried in a book.”

And that was that.

Nesta had assured them before they joined her that they had the house to themselves, as Cassian and Azriel had business with Rhys in the River House and knew better than to disturb her and her friends in their private time.

“She left with Mor,” Nesta answered her question with a smirk. Gwyn gasped excitedly and waved her toast around.

“No way! She finally mustered up the courage to talk to her!”

But Eowyn’s eyes only widened, holding her tea halfway up to her lips, “Mor was here?”

She didn’t miss the look Nesta shot her. Damn, she really needed to learn how to interact with people again.

“Mhm, she spent the night last night,” Nesta smirked, “I overheard her ask Emerie if she wanted her to winnow her back to Windhaven.”

“No wonder she didn’t even bother telling us she wasn’t joining us for lunch,” Gwyn chuckled lightly, eyes alight with delight.

“Has Emerie been interested in Mor a long time?” Eowyn asked, the words feeling strange in her mouth.

“Oh yeah, she’s been in love with her forever,” Gwyn giggled and rolled her eyes, tossing her hair over her shoulder exaggeratedly, “talking about how beautiful she is, how perfect her hair falls, how she wished she was interested in females and would just look-"

“She is,” the words were out of her mouth before she could take them back and for a moment, the sardonic little demon in her mind that often mocked her and watched amusedly as she made a fool out of herself, whispered that perhaps her captors weren’t entirely in the wrong when they'd quite literally sewn her mouth shut at an attempt to keep her from berating them so much.

She cringed, face aflame as Gwyn and Nesta turned their focus to her, wearing different looks of scandalized surprise and curious dark amusement respectively.

“Wha-“

“Whe-“

“Forget I said anything,” she hissed at them, shaking her head ashamedly, eyes falling to the table, “I-I don’t know if Mor is out to the world like that and I’m not going to be responsible for-“

“Don’t worry about it, we won’t say anything,” Nesta assured nonchalantly in a way Eowyn truly did not trust for a second.

“Really,” Gwyn nodded encouragingly, noticing Eowyn’s reluctance, “we won’t say anything.”

Eowyn thought about it.

“Sorry, that’s not enough. I need you both to swear,” she looked at them both seriously.

Nesta scoffed, “I’m not striking a bargain with you because you let it slip that Mor eats pus-“

“That’s exactly why you have to do it. No offense, but you’re pretty hottheaded Nesta, there’s no knowing when you might just fuck up as I did now without meaning to hurt anyone, but what if you do? And Gwyn, I-I just-“

“You’re a busybody,” Nesta agreed, if a bit reluctantly, as she turned to Gwyn, “you’re going to want to tell Emerie to help her out but that’s not for us to share.”

“Exactly,” Eowyn breathed in relief, “I’m not asking for anything drastic, I’m just thinking that we don’t talk about Mor’s business unless she or Emerie announce it first, does that sound alright?”

“And what do I get from this bargain?” Nesta smirked, glancing at Gwyn who grinned back, looking almost mischievous in a very un-Gwyn like manner. “You tell us what happened between you and Mor.”

“You two are busybodies,” Eowyn rolled her eyes, “but fine, it’s a bargain.”

Eowyn couldn’t help but chuckle when the girls jumped in place in surprise, if not for the smallest pinches of pain, as there, in mirroring sides of their elegant fae pointed ears sparked two pieces of jewelry.

The house, ever so attentive, provided a small hand mirror for each of them to inspect their new singularly pierced ears.

“Fascinating,” Gwyn gushed, prodding her gold ring lightly.

“I was expecting a tattoo,” Nesta admitted, head tilted as she inspected the small silver jewelry piece, wrapped around the cartilage of her ear, “but I kind of like this better.”

“That’s an Illyrian tradition, right?” Eowyn licked a bit of jam off her finger.

Nesta nodded but then her eyes sharpened with glee, “you bargained a dirty little story, Wynnie.”

Beyond amused, Eowyn felt just a fraction— just the smallest hint of her old self— possess her body once more, that same spirit driving her to glance down at her plate in amusement as she glided her index finger over the sweet confiture before raising her gaze to look at them innocently from under her eyelashes as she brought her finger up to her tongue, “you never specified when, Nes.”

Their jaws dropped.

"Oh."

"Wynnie, I swear to the-"

“Woah, what is going on in here?” Cassian’s voice boomed through the luncheon setting the house had so lovingly crafted for them. “It smells like a female pleasure house in here.”

"You're not supposed to be here," Nesta scowled at her mate.

"Over a dozen rooms in this house and you pick the kitchen?" he huffed but then stopped and eyed them warily, “seriously, what's with the scent on you? Is it because I’m here or were you dirty females reading smut again?”

His statements, neither of which were true, caused Eowyn to genuinely laugh, if only lightly, which brought Cassian’s attention to her. She lost her grin when she saw his eyes flicker over her face, down to her scars, and almost laughed again at the clearly drastic differences between the mated pair.

She braced herself for the comment.

“Huh. Never noticed you had those septganiums, Wynnie— or should I say, Maestress Wynnie,” he spoke matter-of-factly, saying no more on the simple statement before reaching towards the center of the table and grabbing a handful of bacon.

She blinked at him. Perhaps the Mother truly knew what she was about when it came to these two.

Deciding that she wouldn’t care if he didn’t either, she stepped out of her comfort zone and left herself uncovered. Truthfully, the main reason she even covered herself was mostly out of habit now, for the comfort of others who might feel any disgust or objection to seeing her healed wounds, as some of the priestesses did.

Eowyn would never forget the day, in her early days of exploration in the library, when she caused a priestess to fall into a fit of panicked breaths, clutching at her chest because the sight of Eowyn’s scars had triggered a memory of her attacker, who bore the same scars.

Eowyn knew it wasn’t her they were rejecting, but the fact that her own exposed trauma could trigger such a disconcerting response had been a penetrating blow to her psyche.

“Cassian, did you see Azriel’s bronze blade?” Gwyn lit up again, still riding the high from having interacted with the surly Shadowsinger that morning after training.

“Yeah, I saw it at the River House,” the General chortled, shoving a handful of berries into his mouth, “I told him to stop letting Mor get him shit he doesn’t like and won’t really use.”

There was a pregnant pause, the space suddenly devoid of air as if the house itself was holding its breath. Gwyn’s chair scraped the floor as she stood, eyes bright with tears. Saying nothing, she simply stepped away from the table and rushed out of the room.

“Good job,” Nesta glared at him, standing up to follow after her.

Eowyn stood up as well, eyes following Gwyn in concern, and despite it clearly being Cassian’s fault for opening his big mouth, she couldn’t help the guilt that bit at her stomach because she knew, she knew, she knew, the blade was not right for him. The color, the length, the feel, of it had been all wrong but she had decided to ignore her nosy little inner voice, reminding herself that those closest to the Shadowsinger would clearly know him better than her. Who was she to him but just another one the many neophytes?

“Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her,” Nesta barely grazed her shoulder with a hand before she was out the door, leaving Cassian and Eowyn alone in the fancy tea luncheon.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Cassian grimaced, mouth still full of bacon and sweet biscuits.

But Eowyn only quirked a brow at him and began to collect her things. As she went to pull her veil over her face, he spoke again. “You really don’t have to wear that around us, you know? I mean, you do whatever you want, but I just want to make sure you know we don’t see you any differently for any scars you may have. All of us have our own share of them.”

But she did have to wear it, if not for her own comfort than that of others, but she decided against saying so.

“Have you seen scars like mine?” She asked instead, finding herself suddenly curious.

He nodded, “I’ve seen all kinds of scars. If you ever see battle, which I hope you don’t, you’ll see plenty of scars worse than your own.”

Worse.

Her grip on the back of her chair tightened at his brief dismissal. Knew, logically, that he intended to soothe what he assumed were physical insecurities, but that ultimately felt like a disregard to the pain she'd endured to only leave such scars.

She nodded stiltedly, “right. Good afternoon, General.”

“Aw Wynnie, not you too!” He called out after her but she was already out the door.

part four

taglist: @lilah-asteria @a-courtof-azriel

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel x ofc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #mor acotar #implied!morrrigan x ofc #morrigan acotar #nesta archeron #gwyn acosf #you're just a man #its just what you do

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yugsly · 1 year

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HAPPY ONE YEAR ANNIVERSARY TO BE KIND, MY NEIGHBOR...

It was easier to do this as a twitter thread, but hey, let's give it a shot here too.

It's been ONE WHOLE YEAR since my very first comic Be Kind, My Neighbor officially came out! INSANE! So, I would like to take the time to celebrate by making a funny little post.

First of all, I want to thank Silver Sprocket for taking a chance on me and publishing this niche crazy ass book. Y'all are such incredibly kind and cool people! I'm so happy to be working with y'all again on my next project, too.

Next, I want to thank everyone who read my comic... I've gotten so many sweet messages from y'all over the past year, and it warms my heart. Especially the messages from fellow trans folk who said they felt seen by my comic. You have no idea how happy that makes me!!

I ALSO want to thank all of you that made incredible fan-works this past year. I am FLOORED. Here is a selection of VERY special physical fanworks people gave me!

Dolls by @strangegutz (go here for better photos!), figures by @cadavercrafts, paper doll by @rockabillybun, and Viktor by @imp-panada.

Making BKMN as my first comic was def a learning experience- drawing 496 pages in under 1.5 years... whoosh! I won't lie, I definitely rushed myself super hard! I felt like I was running up against an invisible clock! And it shows- but that's okay, I've learned for next time! I'll take my time with things! I'm kind of rambling now... but YEAH! Thank you SO MUCH everyone, it's insane to me that y'all are still so avidly talking about it to this day. I love COMICS! I love MAKING COMICS. Can't wait for y'all to read my next one! PEACE!!

#be kind my neighbor #BKMN #yugo limbo #yugsly

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 7 days

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Vesuvia Weekly (M6 Drabbles): To be loved is to be ...

Valued. Julian knows it's a bit callous of him to claim that nobody has ever valued him, when even the people he's hurt the most deeply still can't keep themselves from wanting to save him. But you're the first person who's somehow gotten that message past his poor self-esteem. Without any excuses to shelve your love onto - you're my family, you have to feel that way, I was your friend, you'd feel guilty if you didn't, you saved me once, so you're obliged to do it again - the only explanation he can accept from you is the one you give him.

So when you hold him and keep holding him when he's convinced he doesn't have anything worthwhile to offer you except himself, he has to believe he's valued. By you. And god, what a thought that is.

Known. After years of being your home, Asra knows you like the back of their hand. But for the past three years - and for most of their life, if they're being honest - their greatest safety was their capacity to be unknowable. Unreadable. Mysterious and unpredictable. Nobody was ever allowed into his heart as more than a guest, and until he unconditionally handed half of it over to you as yours, nobody ever had a claim to it. But now you've come fully into your own, and you're part of their life on equal footing, and secrets are foolish now.

You know everything about him - how he likes his tea, the minute shifts in your bond with his every fleeting emotion, the way his "impossible" brain thinks - and it's okay because it's you. You're home.

Uplifted. Nadia is a born and nurtured leader. As the youngest in a family of them, she watched and learned from a leadership style that focused on building things up - and then she married someone who tore her down instead, along with an entire city's populace. Waking up to a city in ruins and a council of sabotage and not a single memory of any nearby friends did not help the parts of her that could use some building up. How was she supposed to lay solid foundations when she felt like she was crumbling? Until you, that is.

You see her weaknesses and immaturities and inexperience and your response is to support her. You comfort her when she's discouraged and encourage her when she's fearful. You build her up.

Protected. As loathe as he is to admit it, Muriel's done more than his fair share of protecting those he cares about. From his time in the Coliseum, to his escape from the Coliseum, to his watchful nurture in the woods, many of his biggest changes happened to protect another life. He never got his hopes up for someone who'd see him, all 6'10, grouchy, seemingly indestructible roughness of him, and want to protect him. People like him don't get to have things like softness, and warmth, and hearty meals that make you sleepy-safe.

You don't agree. You see the fearful, anxiety-ridden child in his eyes when a crowd gets too big or a stranger gets too loud, and you take care of it. You protect him. You show him what "safe" feels like.

Seen. Counting every time she's been overlooked for someone else's sake is the fastest way to send Portia spiraling into uncharacteristic depression. The worst part is that she always ended up going along with it, overlooking herself in the process. Her brother needed a stable sister. The grandmas needed an extra pair of hands. Her brother needed a stable sister, again. The Palace needed someone to keep watch over the Countess. The Countess needed a handmaiden. So, you ... what kind of invisible do you need her to be, for you?

Except that you wanted her to be loud. You wanted her to be visible. You wanted her to talk about herself, for once. You're the first main character she's on equal footing with, and you see each other.

Changed. Lucio is not used to changing. He was raised to see it as a sign of weakness - one moment of compromising your own goals, one moment of failing to commit, and you're as good as dead. So he as a teenager, filled with feelings of betrayal and abandonment, decided exactly who he wanted to be and stuck to the bit. Too many deals, several battlefields, a lethal plague, a Coliseum, countless crimes, and a few decades later, Lucio found as good as dead anyways. Until you happened. With a new goal to commit to.

Somehow changing for you (as vulnerable as it is) doesn't feel weak. Every moment that he struggles out of another habit, he finds you in a new space full of gentle pleasures his teenaged self never imagined.

#vesuvia weekly #to be loved #ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana drabble #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

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kimbappykidding · 8 months

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Vernon had gotten a lot of things wrong in your relationship, but he didn't realise any of that until you were gone.

You'd never been insecure in a relationship but then again Vernon was the first idol you'd dated.

You were an idol yourself from the group G-(I)dle and had been for 3 years before you and Vernon got together. You knew how the industry worked but it didn't make it any easier when rumours started going viral that Vernon was dating a girl who wasn't you. The claims were he was dating Yeri of Red Velvet and although the article wasn't official it was getting around the Internet. The thing that bothered you most about it, was Vernon never messaged you about it.

You'd both been busy with work recently and hadn't seen each other in nearly 2 weeks. You only just got back from touring and Vernon had his new song to promote. You called and texted but not as frequently as usual. All of this would've excused him not texting you but this story was big! It was trending and you found it weird he didn't think to talk to you about it. It was made worse by the fact Vernon and Yeri were friends and you knew there had been some history there. You trusted that was all far in the past so didn't think the rumours were true but part of you wondered what they'd been doing for people to assume they were dating. It could've been innocent and they were merely together but you had no idea because Vernon had never explained it to you.

So you found yourself following the trend without meaning to and Soyeon caught you. "You're not paying attention to any of that crap are you?" she asked. You tried to hide your phone and then sighed "I just want to see what made them think that". "But you're dating Vernon so you know it's not true". You frowned "see we never actually made it official". "Wait what?" Yuqi asked and you sighed "he never asked me to be his girlfriend in those words, we just became what we are so technically we're not even anything". Minnie shook her head "but you are dating, just because he didn't ask you doesn't mean anything". "Doesn't it?" you asked and Soojin frowned "but this is Vernon. We all know he considers you his girlfriend. What's he said about this scandal". "Nothing" you said and that made them all pause. "Right?" you cried "I know he's been busy but don't I deserve a reassuring text or something?". Your members nodded "totally, have you tried messaging him?" Shuhua asked. "But why should she have to message him?" Yuqi replied and the others shrugged. "You reassure your partner even if it's trivial. How doesn't he get that?". "But you said Vernon's a little...distant anyway isn't he?" Minnie asked and you nodded.

You and Vernon were very different people and in some ways that worked very well. You were complete opposites and helped the other step out of their comfort zone. You helped Vernon communicate and express himself more and Vernon helped you become more thoughtful and independent. However, there were times like today when your base expectations weren't being met.

In the end, you decided not to do anything. You wanted to wait and see how long it took Vernon to say something and 2 days later he still hadn't texted you. On the 3rd day, he sent you a funny cat video and you realised him telling you about the scandal wasn't even on his radar so you got the opinion of a male friend to see if it was a gender thing.

Jongho from Ateez had been a close friend of yours for years and again like you and Vernon the two of you were opposites but it worked. You'd kind of forced Jongho to be your friend initially but now he liked it. You rang him up and he picked up quickly "Hey Y/n what's up?". "So I have a hypothetical to run by you". "Oh goodie!" Jongho said sarcastically and you laughed "so imagine you're dating a girl and a dating rumour about you comes out. Would you text your girlfriend about it?". Jongho paused "well I mean surely she knows it's fake if she's my girlfriend". "So you wouldn't mention it at all?" you asked and Jongho was quiet again "no I'd probably mention it just to reassure her it was bullshit. I'd at least bring it up in person and say how annoying it was or make a joke out of it". You nodded "and what if the girl wasn't your girlfriend. You'd been casually together for a little while". "Oh then I'd definitely bring it up because she might think I'm seeing both of them!". "Thank you!" you cried and Jongho laughed. "Vernon?" he asked and you nodded "he's not contacted me since his rumour came out". "But you're dating". "See we're not officially and if I'm honest I did check the articles to see what the photos of the two of them were". "So you don't trust him?" Jongho asked and you shook your head "I do but sometimes I just feel so...unsure in our relationship. He's not very good at communicating and rarely expresses how he feels. I didn't know he actually fancied me until our 4th date when he told me, he's that good at hiding how he feels and sometimes I just feel like I'm too demanding. That I'm too clingy and asking too much of him so I don't tend to share how I feel". Jongho was quiet "Y/n that's not good. You should never feel like you're bothering your partner when you're asking for something you need". "I know but there's no malice on Vernon's side! He's the sweetest the times when I have mentioned things to him I just don't want to have to do it for everything". Jongho nodded "you want some of the things to be instinctive so you're not constantly reminding him". "Exactly!" you agreed and Jongho sighed "well I don't know what to advise. How long have you been together?". "6 months" and Jongho nodded "out of the honeymoon period. From what I hear a lot of couples have problems then so you're not alone". "But how do I know if it's something we can overcome or an incompatibility?". Jongho was quiet for ages and then sighed "I have no idea".

Then to make things more confusing Vernon texted you one day asking if you were free and if he could come over. You told him you had a break from the tour for the next few days and he appeared on your doorstep 24 hours later. The minute you saw him standing there all the emotions you felt for him and all the fondness hit you. You opened the door and he shot you a smile "there she is" and hugged you tightly picking you up slightly. You blushed and squealed as he lifted you. "It's been way too long" Vernon said still not letting you go and you nodded "too long, but how's your promoting going?". "We're finishing tomorrow and I can't wait but forget that tell me about your tour!".

Once you'd caught up with one another Vernon pulled you into his arms again. "I missed you so much" Vernon said pressing a kiss to your temple and resting his forehead against yours. "You did?" you asked and he chuckled "of course I did! I always miss you". "Oh" you said and Vernon chuckled again "did you think I just don't miss you when you're away touring". "I don't know, maybe" you said and Vernon looked at you, clearly confused why you might think that. "Really?" he asked moving back so he could see you and you looked down "no of course not I..." and you trailed off. "Y/n?" Vernon asked and you looked at him "sorry, I'm just tired". "Are you sure?" he asked sensing something was up but you hated confrontation of any form so just nodded folding into his chest. You pushed your feelings away and smiled at him "I'm fine". Vernon nodded "okay then" and wrapped his arms around you again. Wrapped up together you could almost pretend it was fine but when Vernon left the next day you felt heavy all over again.

You carried on as normal, ignoring any doubts you had and just as the rumours about Vernon and Yeri died down a blast from the past came back. Vernon's ex Eunji used to work for Pledis as a stylist but had moved to KQ Entertainment when they broke up. Eunji hated you as, unknown to you, Vernon broke up with her so he could ask you out. She'd frequently messaged Vernon asking to get back together and had even sent you some horrible texts too and later claimed she was drunk. Jongho knew of her and she knew the two of you were friends so largely avoided him and his members which suited Jongho fine. He updated you on anything you needed to know about her and sometimes told you more than your own boyfriend.

You didn't hear about the Ateez x Seventeen collaboration until Jongho mentioned it. When it was clear you had no knowledge of it Jongho told you that Eunji was working on the project...but Vernon forgot to mention that to you. You were angry and when you next saw Vernon didn't hesitate to bring it up.

"Why didn't you tell me you were doing a collaboration with Ateez?" you asked and Vernon paused. He clearly got what you meant by the look on his face. "Because I didn't know if she'd be there or not". "You knew she still works for them right?" you asked and he nodded "Yeah...". "And she was there?" you asked wanting to hear it from himself and he signed "yeah but it's not a big deal I didn't speak to her. Well not about anything other than work". You shook your head in disbelief and Vernon sighed "I have to be professional with her Y/n I can't ignore her!". "I'm not asking you to I just wish you would've told me. You not telling me makes me feel like you're hiding something". "But I'm not. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd worry. Things upset you sometimes and I don't want to hurt you so I don't tell you them" he said and that was the worst thing he could've possibly said.

"You don't tell me?" you asked "so you wondered if to tell me this and you decided not to?". "Yes..." Vernon said cautiously as if trying to detect a trap. "I did it to protect you. I always try and protect you". Your worst fears were coming true. Vernon was not telling things and keeping them from you because he thought you were emotional and overreacted. The annoying thing is you didn't want to react now because you thought it would prove him right but had no idea what else to do. You felt so shit and just wanted to cry. You didn't speak trying not to cry and Vernon sighed "please don't be mad...you know how much I care about you". Something about those words and how he was looking at you with those big brown eyes made you explode.

"No I don't!" you cried "because you hardly ever let me in! There's no regular communication or affirmation. I'm not needy but I would like you to tell me how you feel more than once every few months or when I leave the country. I just want you to be upfront with your emotions for me. I always feel bad asking you to adjust and to hear you've been keeping things from me just makes me feel so tired. All I want is honesty and good communication" you said starting to get sad "I mean I don't even know if we're dating". "What?" Vernon asked "Y/n come on you know I'm your boyfriend". "Do I? I never asked you and you never asked me. It just happened and sometimes I have no clue what we are. When I haven't heard from you in 2 weeks I don't know if we're dating or intermittent. I have no idea whether I'm coming or going Vernon and it's horrible!" you cried tears finally leaking down your face and Vernon paused. He didn't like emotion, especially crying because he never knew what to do and you could see the panic on his face which made you cry even more because if he knew you, he'd know all you needed was a hug. Instead, he watched you before rushing to grab you a tissue partially so he could leave the room.

Once you'd calmed down you spoke first because Vernon hadn't spoken in ages and it didn't seem he would be any time soon. "I think I need to go home". Vernon nodded "okay I'll walk you to your car...should I call you tomorrow or something?". You took in a breath and shook your head "I don't know". Vernon nodded "okay" and didn't ask anything more. You reached your car and you looked at him "are you happy Vernon?". "With us?" he asked "yes and I thought you were. I guess I didn't realise how much was wrong". You shook your head "I just don't know if we're too different. If that's our problem". Vernon frowned "I don't think we're that different" but he didn't sound sure at all. "We're polars Vernon and I don't know if I'm fighting a losing battle". "So what do you want to do?" he asked and you shook your head "I don't know but I know if I say I don't know and we walk away it won't be resolved for another 2 weeks and I can't have that...so I think we should just break up".

Vernon's eyes widened "you don't want to work on it? Try and fix it". "I want to but I don't feel like I have the energy...I can't escape the feeling it shouldn't be this hard and I can't keep telling you how to act. I just can't...". Vernon nodded "okay then. I don't want to cause you any stress so we can break up if that will make you feel better". You shook your head wondering how he could even say that but atleast felt like for once you were making the mature decision and not burying your head in the sand. "Okay, goodnight Vernon" and you left.

You of course felt awful following the breakup. No matter how many times you told yourself this was the mature thing to do, to call quits on a relationship that wasn't working, you still missed Vernon. You kept thinking about all the things he did that you loved and wondered if you'd been too hasty or selfish. Your members all comforted you and tried to shield you from anything they could but one-day Soojin came into your room and you could tell from the look on her face she had something bad to tell you. Soojin wasn't one to beat around the bush so she took your hand and told you. "Y/n just so you know before anyone else says it, tonight at the club I saw Vernon leaving with Eunji".

You'd been expecting it but it was still a blow. You'd been broken up just over a month now and wondered how long this had been happening. You trust Vernon hadn't been cheating on you but technically he could've gone to Eunji the night of your breakup and that would've been fine but you didn't know if Vernon was that type of person.

He wasn't.

Vernon laid in bed with Eunji and everything just felt wrong. He hadn't planned on this at all and all his members had been cautious when he said he wanted to come out tonight and he got why. He'd been emotional since the breakup and alcohol typically did not help with that. It didn't, drunk Vernon just missed you more and when he saw Eunji part of him just wanted what was familiar once more but familiar didn't mean good.

Of course, in the moment things had felt good enough and he'd wanted to leave with her, but now with the alcohol leaving his system and his brain returning he just felt so certain this wasn't right. He supposed it could be because this was the first girl he'd been with since you and so it was simply different not bad but that didn't feel right after.

"What are you thinking about?" Eunji asked resting her hands on his chest and Vernon tried not to tense. "Nothing" he said but it was pretty clear what he was thinking about or more accurately who. "It's okay you know" Eunji said "that she's still on your mind". "It is?" Vernon asked and she nodded "It's only been a month it'll get easier and easier and she'll become a distant memory". Vernon didn't even wonder how she'd know the time since you'd broken up. He was too focused on what Eunji saying you'd become a distant memory. He felt himself resisting it although he knew that was the goal. He was meant to stop thinking of you but the truth was he didn't want to. "And a great way to speed up the process is to keep doing things to distract you" Eunji said kissing his neck "so want me to distract you?". Vernon shook his head "I'm really tired so I think I'm just going to sleep". "Oh okay" Eunji said and she settled into his arms. Vernon didn't want to hug her but also couldn't see how he'd get out of it so he just closed his eyes and waited a long enough amount of time to switch her out of them.

You saw Vernon the following week at an award show and your mind immediately went to Eunji. Luckily you spotted Vernon before he saw you and knew exactly where not to look but Vernon didn't. He looked right at you and froze. He hadn't seen you in what felt like ages and he quickly tried to analyse everything about you to see if you'd been struggling as much as he had. Your hair was different which made sense as Vernon recalled you saying you couldn't wait to dye it. Your members were sat all around you like a fortress and you either hadn't noticed him or were purposefully not looking at him but Vernon couldn't seem to stop staring at you. The others noticed and Seungkwan knocked his leg "stop it, youre being too obvious". Vernon nodded and stared at his feet but he felt just shit. He wanted you to look at him to prove you atleast remembered he existed. That you'd been struggling too but all night you didn't even glance in his direction.

Later on at the afterparty Vernon saw your group pass Ateez and you stopped to chat to them. Vernon knew you were friends with Jongho and could see all the guys were bigging you up, complimenting your outfit. He watched Wooyoung twirl you and felt a sharp jolt run through him. "Hey relax" Scoups said beside him "ease up on the glass" and he realised he'd been gripping it so tight his knuckles were white. He set it down and sighed "I need some air" and stood up. "Want anyone to come with you?" Dino asked but he shook his head.

On the way back in he spotted Jongho and the boy saw him too. They were standing across from each other and as Jongho went to walk away Vernon called his name and hurried after him "Hey Jongho wait". Jongho turned and looked at Vernon "what?" he asked, his tone ice cold. "I was just wondering how Y/n is?". Jongho frowned "why would I tell you?'. "Look I know we broke up but I still care about her and want to make sure she's okay". Jongho shook his head "I'm not telling you anything" and turned to walk away but Vernon grabbed his arm "I'm not letting you leave until you answer my question". Jongho looked at Vernon's hand on him and back-up to Vernon. "Y/n doesn't owe you anything and you lost the privilege to know things about her so I'm not telling you anything. Now let go of me before I make you". Vernon suddenly realised Jongho was a lot stronger than him and let go "I'm sorry I just...I keep thinking about her and I just want to know she's okay". "You care so much about her huh?" Jongho asked "funny I thought your priority was Eunji nowadays" and he walked away.

Vernon's world came crashing down as he realised you knew about Eunji. He'd purposefully sworn her to secrecy to avoid this getting out but somehow Jongho knew and so you must know too. Vernon's mind was spinning and this was a disaster. He took out his phone and was texting you when Scoups and Seungkwan appeared "Vernon what happened?". "She knows about Eunji" he said "I have to tell her what happened". "Vernon calm down, you don't need to text Y/n right this second". "I do" Vernon said getting annoyed "she has to know...she has to!" When he dropped his phone and swore loudly. Seungkwan grabbed it before he could and Vernon held his hand out for it but Seungkwan didn't pass it to him. "Give me my phone" Vernon said but Seungkwan shook his head "friends don't let friends drunk text". "Seungkwan give me my phone!" Vernon yelled squaring up to him but Scoups got in between them "Hey, first you try and fight Jongho and now Seungkwan? Outside now!" and he led the younger boy out of the club. Vernon sat down on the curb and put his head in his hands. He sobbed and sobbed while Scoups patted his back.

Jongho called you the next morning and told you everything that happened. "I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want him taking up any space in your head but Wooyoung thought I should let you know". You nodded "yeah thanks for telling me. So he was pretty emotional huh?". Jongho nodded "he was a mess Y/n, he's really regretting the breakup'. You shook your head "but he's with Eunji". "He was really shaken when I said that too" Jongho said "he had no idea you knew". "He should've figured I'd have guessed" you said unimpressed. Jongho nodded "there's a lot of things Vernon should've done".

The next day Vernon was thinking that same thought. He'd had a terrible night and the thing that bothered him most was he had no idea how you knew about Eunji. They'd only hooked up once and he'd asked her to keep it quiet. His members wouldn't have told anyone so the only person who could've was her. So he called her and asked.

"Have you told anyone that we hooked up again?" he asked and there was silence. "Eunji?" he asked and she finally replied "a few people but what does it matter?". "What does it matter?" he cried "I didn't want anyone to know and guess who does? Y/n!". "Why do you care you're not together" she tried again and Vernon shrugged "so? I still don't want her to know I've slept with another girl". "I won't be your dirty little secret Vernon so if you want this to continue you need to let me tell who I want" Eunji said. "Okay it's over" Vernon replied and she paused "wait I won't tell anyone else". "It doesn't matter I don't want this to continue, it was a mistake anyway". "She doesn't want you anymore!" Eunji cried "there's no way she'll take you back, especially after this so think about what you're doing here Vernon. There's no need to throw this away from her". "It's not just for her it's for me. Goodbye Eunji" and Vernon hung up the phone, his hands shaking so much he dropped it the second he pressed the red button.

Scoups heard him on the phone and knocked "hey can Seungkwan and I come in?" and Vernon nodded. "I didn't realise you were awake" Scoups began "who was that on the phone?". "Eunji, she told people about us and I think she did it on purpose". Scoups nodded "she would've been my first guess" and Vernon sighed "I can't believe I went back to her. It's over now but she's right, it was unlikely Y/n wouldn't take me back before but now it's hopeless!". "No it's not!" Scoups said and Seungkwan who had also been listening outside burst in. "Vernon you need to stop this!" he cried and Vernon looked at him "Seungkwan I'm so sorry for last night I just feel so sad and angry all the time" he said tearing up and Scoups froze because Vernon never cried. Last night he'd been drunk so he let it pass but he'd never seen sober Vernon cry. Seungkwan was less taken aback though.

"Vernon you're not going to win Y/n back by sitting here regretting things, you need to be proactive!" Seungkwan said and Vernon looked at him "what do you mean? There's no way I'm winning Y/n back ever!". "You don't know that!" Seungkwan cried "look the whole reason you broke up was because Y/n didn't think you'd fight for the relationship and look! You're proving her right". Vernon knew Seungkwan was right but still felt deflated "so what do I do?". Seungkwan looked to Scoups wondering how much clearer he could make it. "Fight!" Scoups cried and Seungkwan nodded "show Y/n you care enough about her to make things right. If you want her, tell her you're not going to rest until she knows how much you care about her. At the very least try explaining things to her!" Seungkwan cried and Vernon frowned "but how? She won't speak to me". "Has she blocked your number?" Scoups asked and Vernon paused "I'm not sure, I haven't tried contacting her since we broke up". Both boys sighed "well let's start there then!" Seungkwan said "let's send a text first so it's not as scary as calling and we'll go from there".

You went to sleep late because Jongho insisted on staying up with you to watch the first Harry Potter because he knew they made you feel happy. So you woke up late as a consequence and heard your phone buzz. You reached out for it figuring it would be Jongho or Soyeon when you saw the name and gasped. You dropped the phone right on your face and cursed at the pain. By the time you recovered the ringing had stopped and you waited anxiously to see if Vernon would leave a voicemail...he did.

"Hey, I was really hoping we could talk. After last night some things have become really clear and I wanted to clear up the rumour about Eunji. Something did happen between us but she exaggerated and it's over. If nothing else I just want to apologise to you. So please let me know if we can text, call, meet...anything is fine I just need to speak to you".

Vernon's message shocked you for several reasons. You understood from what Jongho had said that he was upset but figured it was because he'd been caught, to hear he'd ended things with Eunji surprised you. Not to mention Vernon had texted you, of his own volition, asking to talk to you and have a proper adult conversation. You couldn't recall Vernon ever making this effort when you were dating and were pleasantly surprised. So that was probably why you acted so spontaneously and after discussing it with the girls decided to agree with Vernon's request.

Soojin squeezed your hand as you pressed the call button. It rang 3 times before Vernon picked it up "Y/n?". "It's me" you said and he gasped "oh thank god! Y/n thank you so much for calling you! I really need to talk to you". You nodded "okay so talk".

You were curious to hear what he would say but were still hurt by him and weren't just going to roll over. Vernon nodded "yeah I asked you if we could talk so yeah of course. Y/n firstly Eunji, we slept together once on the 11th of November and I regretted it instantly. It was after we broke up and I was a wreck but I thought going out drinking would make me feel better. It didn't. I watched the clock reach the time when we ended it and I just felt like such a loser. I knew I'd let you down and that I'd lost someone amazing. I hated myself but wasn't admitting that so I pretended I was fine but nothing felt right with Eunji and I felt even worse after it. I knew it was over then and asked Eunji not to tell anyone about it but she did and I'm so sorry. I never wanted you to find out about it". "Well it wasn't just Eunji who spread it. Soojin saw you leave the club together so you weren't exactly trying to hide it afterwards". Vernon nodded "you know what you're right. I did a stupid thing that hurt you and I'm sorry. There's no excuses".

Vernon was never usually so honest so you nodded "okay...I can't say all is forgiven but thank you for saying that. Was there anything else you wanted to say?". Vernon nodded "yeah so much but the best way I can think to express is it Y/n I'm so sorry I didn't show up for you or fight for us. I really was happy with you and care for you so much". "Vernon..." you said but he frowned "can I please just say this? I need to". "OKay" you said and he carried on. "I know I didn't fight for us before but I am going to fight for us now. I'm going to fight to show you how much I care about you and prove to you our relationship is worth saving". "Vernon I don't know if we can ever get back there" you said "there was so much wrong and I don't trust you". "Well I'll start there then, I'm going to show you that you can trust me and if we're lucky enough to get back there I'll show you how committed I am to fixing all those things. I can't just let you go Y/n...not without trying". You paused because that was what you'd always wanted to hear and Soojin noticed you get teary. She squeezed your hand again and you took a deep breath. "I can't lie that makes me happy" you said "but also scared. I won't ice you out Vernon but I also won't come running back to you. There's a lot that needs to change". Vernon nodded "of course and thank you so much for letting me try. I won't let you down Y/n!" he said and you nodded "okay Vernon" and hung up.

This time it was your hands that wouldn't stop shaking. "So how did it go?" Sojin asked and you paused "he says he's not giving up on us" and she smiled "that's pretty big for him right?". You nodded "let's just see if he lives up to it".

You honestly had no idea what to expect from Vernon's promise. You'd both left things undefined so you supposed Vernon could call you in a week's time or wave to you at an award show and think that was it...but he didn't.

To start with you got regular texts from Vernon in the morning and night but they weren't just the usual "good morning" texts. In each text, he would tell you something you used to do for him that he appreciated and as the days went by you were intrigued to see if he suddenly stopped or change themes but he didn't. He just kept coming up with more. It was a kind gesture that didn't demand anything of you and you appreciated it as the first step.

So the two of you started texting, Vernon would ask how your day was going and remember when you had a difficult day coming up and wish you luck. He was attentive, patient and supportive. So much so, 3 weeks later when Vernon tentatively mentioned meeting up after work for a coffee you agreed.

Typically to any date Vernon was late and would always have some sort of excuse. When you walked to the coffee shop and saw he wasn't outside you sighed. You waited until the time and then texted him asking if he was far. "I'm already here" he replied and you looked around confused when you saw him waving to you from inside. "I got here early and thought I'd wait inside but I should've told you I'm sorry" Vernon said anxiously but you just smiled "you got here early?". He nodded "of course, you're my priority Y/n and that will never change". You blushed and searched for something to change the conversation. "I should go get a drink" you said when Vernon shook his head "don't worry about that, chai with almond milk right?". You nodded "yeah but why?" when you saw him nod to the barista and who started making you your drink. "Sit he'll bring it over". "You remembered my drink?" you asked "and ordered for me?". "Why not?" Vernon asked "if I can make your day any better then I'll do that". You blushed and with nothing else to distract you just smiled.

You didn't want to get ahead of yourself but this date felt differently. It wasn't just you that did all the talking which usually happened on often because Vernon was too tired. Instead, Vernon talked a lot. He was very open with you about the things he was struggling with at the moment and how his appetite wasn't great. You knew you were probably the reason he looked a little skinnier lately and the second you hinted to that Vernon shook his head. "Don't be silly it's not you, our breakup wasn't your fault". "I mean but I ended it" you argued and Vernon shrugged "so? I did things to make you end it with time and I didn't fight it so it's my own fault. Don't blame yourself for telling me I needed to do better, I actually want to thank you for it". "You do?" you asked and Vernon nodded "yeah as much as it makes me nervous I needed to change. I wasn't fully living and was taking things for granted. You've helped open my eyes and the guys have all commented on the change in me. So no matter what thank you". You shook your head "I...you're welcome?" and Vernon chuckled. You forgot how much you missed the sound of his voice.

After that, you met up with Vernon regularly once a week. They didn't start off as dates but definitely got more light-hearted and date-like. Two weeks later after a restaurant date, you held Vernon's hand and he shot you a beautiful smile. A week after that you linked arms as you walked through the park and now Vernon would put his arm around whenever you sat down. Vernon was a lot more careful with you, in that he was aware of where you were at all times and was intuned to you. He'd move to face you without even thinking and would always take the seat to shade or protect you. You seemed to move in sync and you realised it was because it wasn't just you paying attention to him, he was paying attention to you too!

When you got home you were really happy and the girls noticed.

"What's got you so smiley?" Shuhua asked and you blushed making the girls all pay extra attention. "I bet it's Vernon!" Miyeon said in a sing-song voice and your further blush confirmed it. "Are things still going well?" Soyeon asked and you nodded "he's like a different person! Even when he first started dating he didn't behave like this and it makes me really happy". "That's so sweet" Minnie commented but Yuqi looked at you carefully "so what's wrong?". You sighed "well I don't know if I can trust him. Things are really great now but that doesn't erase everything that happened and he is still the same person deep down with the potential to do the same thing. I want to forgive him and try again but I just don't know if that's wise" you finished with a sigh looking down. The girls exchanged looks, saw they were all in agreement and turned to you.

"Y/n" Soojin said and you looked at her "what?". "I think you should take Vernon back?". "Really?" you asked and she nodded as did the other girls. "But what if he goes back to how he was? What if I look like a fool?". "Well I doubt that will happen" Soyeon said "for one thing you said he was never like this even when you first got back together so there's no reason for you to think he would decline. I think he really has changed. "He's proven himself" Minnie said "he's tried hard and shown he cares about you". "Yeah plus you can always dump his ass if he slips up again, trust me he'll feel more foolish than you" Yuqi said and that made you smile. So with the girls' support, you nodded.

The next time you saw Vernon you decided to tell him your decision but you knew you'd be nervous the whole date so instead you asked him to come to your first and all the girls made sure they were out. Vernon looked nervous when you opened the door and you got that. From your message, he probably worked out this wasn't a casual social call. Still, he gave you a smile when you opened the door and complimented your outfit. "Thank you, you look nice too" you replied and led him into your living room.

Once there you gestured for him to sit and took a seat across from him. "So I just wanted to have a clarifying talk because I know things have changed but we've not verbalised that". Vernon nodded "of course, I've really enjoyed how things have been doing by the way". "Me too" you nodded "but I just have one worry, that this will fade. I love all the care and attention but what if a month down the line things go back to how they were?" you asked Vernon. Vernon nodded "I know and I've considered this before. There's no physical proof I can give you other than my word. Y/n losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me so I will do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen again. Not just that, you deserve way better than how I was treating you before and I'm ashamed of how I was acting. So I will never treat you like that again because I don't want to lose you but also because you deserve to be treated better. I want to cherish you Y/n because I'm lucky to have you and you bring so much into my life...I like you a lot Y/n" Vernon finished blushing but he never looked away from your eye. Not even for a second and you nodded.

"I like you too and I'm ready to try again" you replied.

Vernon's eyes lit up "you are? You're taking me back?" he asked and you nodded. "Y/n this is...I don't even have words!" he cried and dove on you making you laugh as he hugged you. He held you tightly, laughing too "thank you so much I love you" and then he froze "sorry I shouldn't have said that". "It's okay" you said "I'm not quite ready to say it back but thank you". Vernon nodded "no thank you" and he got to do something he never thought he'd be able to again.

He got to kiss you.

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