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letorip · 2 months

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i heard your name

"i heard your name and i'll never be the same”

===+++===

pairing: cairo sweet x reader

summary: after a life of fleeting things, you come to tennessee, and find someone you don’t want to be “fleeting” anymore, though she may come with ulterior motives

warnings: rivalry, references to sex, hints at student-teacher relationships, reader is being used (duh)

word count: 4.8k

A/N: i really really hate the concept of miller's girl as a whole, but i can't deny that cairo sweet is a captivating character psychologically, and that jenna does an absolutely amazing job. inspired by lolita, pale fire by vladimir nabokov, and the movie hot summer nights.

===+++===

You became aware of Cairo Sweet on a hot, sunny school day, one that almost seemed to mock your lack of enthusiasm for the new school in its beauty and the light breeze.

The high school was an ugly building, one that sat in limbo between southern charm and the studious American educational experience seen in the likes of pretentious New England. The decorator had clearly not known which one to pick, but no amount of fancy classrooms or bookshelves and Turkish rugs would make you forget you were in Tennessee of all places.

It would be just as unmemorable and brief as the last, and that’s exactly what you reminded yourself while you waited dreadfully early in the front office, in an uncomfortable yellow plastic chair that had one leg much shorter than the others.

The receptionist lady seemed nice enough, smiling at you all bright and wrinkly like old people did. “So sorry about the wait, dearie. Any minute now, she’ll be—”

“It’s no problem,” you shrugged. “I’m not really in a rush.”

The woman nodded, her eyes melting into little crows feet at the ends. There was a theory you had heard once, that the more wrinkles someone had, the more they had smiled in their life. It didn’t fit many of the crotchety old people you had met, who seemed to have frowns permanently stitched onto their leathery faces, but it definitely fit her. She glowed like a beacon, or twinkled like a chandelier of happiness.

“Are you excited about coming here?" She asked. "Starting the new semester has to be exciting!” The entire time the older woman kept sheepishly glancing over at the door, waiting someone to come in. Whoever was supposed to be guiding your tour was clearly very late.

You had long given up on hoping your mom would pick a spot and stay there. In two more months maybe, she would announce she 'wanted a change' again, and you wouldn't give this place a second thought when you left, just as you hadn't given the last places a second thought either. But you couldn't just say no.

You smiled back at her. "Yeah, kinda. This seems like a good school."

"Oh it's just splendid!" She assured you. "The kids love it here, it's just-" Before she could finish, the office door swung open, and a girl in crazy clothing bustled in, dropping her bag on the floor in the middle of the room and spinning to the receptionist.

“I’m so, so sorry!” She said, visibly dishevelled (though maybe that was just her nonsense outfit) and maybe sweating a bit. “I completely forgot I was supposed to do this!” She laughed. She seemed like one of those girls that were always drunk— not in a sad, alcoholic way, but like they were drunk on life (and maybe alcohol too).

“It’s alright, Winnie. They haven’t been waiting long.” Winnie spun around, noticing you where you sat, leaning your head back against the wall.

“Hi there, I’m Winnie,” she said, holding out her hand with a smile. You stood up and shook it in your own, smiling back. This would all be fleeting anyhow.

“Hi, yeah I heard. (Y/n)."

Winnie tilted her head, giving you a devilish smirk. She was absurdly energetic for it being so early. "Boy, aren’t you cute.”

“And aren’t you really forward,” you laughed.

She shrugged. “I think it’s more fun that way. You got a nickname?"

"Eh," you shrugged. You did, from your mom, but it wasn't worth mentioning when you wouldn't be here that long. "Not really."

"Nooo, you definitely should have one," she said, and you raised your eyebrows at her.

"I'm really good, I think," you said, grinning. "Not the most nickname—able name out there."

"Fine," she shrugged. "Suit yourself I guess. Now c’mon,” said Winnie, sticking her hand out to you. There was a certain glint in her eyes then. “I’m gonna show you every little place in this shitty little school.”

"Winnie, language!" The receptionist scolded her.

"Sorry," she winced.

Winnie dragged you around the halls like that, hand in hand and pointing into classrooms; she waved to the people that she passed. It was decent sized school, with a big cafeteria and gym, but not much else unique to boast except for the few sports fields outside. Your last school didn't have that, but it had been northern Alaska, so it made sense. It was probably hard, what with the snow.

“Boris!” Winnie waved over at a man in a track suit, with a whistle around his neck that all gym teachers seemed to wear. He rolled his eyes, waving back at her. "That's Coach Fillmore," she explained.

“What’ve I told you about that, Winnie?” He asked.

Winnie slipped her red-heart sunglasses over her eyes, flashing him a smile. “Still your favourite though, right?”

“Yeah yeah.” And he turned his attention back to the football field, coffee in hand. Winnie spun back to you, with an almost infectious aura.

"So, why'd you move?" she asked, grabbing your hand again and tugging you back inside. The metal door slammed shut behind you with a loud thud.

"Witness Protection Program," you shrugged as she pulled you around the corner. “On the run from the cartel." She looked at you like you were crazy for a moment, eyes all wide, then you laughed and ruined it. "I'm kidding. Not actually."

"OOooooO, I like you. Cute and unserious. I thought you were going to be all square, but it turns out you can joke," said Winnie, shaking her head at you. "What's your locker number, again?"

You handed her the paper. "She wrote it on here."

Winnie took it from your hand, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and examining it like a slide under a microscope. "Ah, damn. You're on the opposite side of the school from me. Like literally, the exact opposite side. That's good though, right? Your first block is Calc?"

"Uh, no. It's uh..." you stopped, leaning against a wall and sliding your backpack off. You pulled your schedule from the top pocket. "Creative Writing, with Mr. Miller."

Winnie's eyes lit up, and she punched you on the arm. "No, fucking way?! That's my first block too!"

You shrugged. "I'd honestly rather do that than calculus right now, so."

Winnie laughed. "Yeah, you and any normal person." She stopped for a minute. "Are you okay if I go off and get some breakfast before class? Winnie hungee," she said, rubbing her stomach. "I also kind of ditched my friend, and I told her I'd find her."

You nodded. "Go ahead. I'm just gonna find my locker."

"Okay!" She said, giving you a small salute. "See you in class."

===+++===

You found your way well enough, and after fumbling with the big metal lock and struggling to put the code in, could actually open your yellow locker and throw the heavy bag you had been carrying inside.

You could see other kids walking up and opening theirs around you. Their doors had metal magnets and small whiteboards, stickers and posters. You hadn't brought stuff to decorate your locker in four years. Instead, your backpack had everything you carried in it, ready to go at the drop of a hat.

The creative writing classroom was down a hallway that split off near the gym, and luckily seemed less ugly than the rest of the school. The room smelled of pine and paper, which was probably a good sign, and bookshelves and glass jars littered the walls with a bunch of other random things setting the scenery for the big chalkboard and wooden desk in the middle.

Most of the other students were already there when you arrived through the double doors, including Winnie. She stood at one of the front desks talking to someone. When she saw you, she waved, eyes lighting up like a Christmas tree even from afar. In her past life, this girl would have been a golden retriever. You waved back then turned away, heading to one of the back desks that put you firmly away from the teacher's line of sight.

Mr. Miller seemed like an alright guy, or just enough of one. He didn't do any cheesy introductions of people, or make you do one of those stupid icebreakers that made you want to die, no— he was straight to the point, with just a splash of drama.

"Hello everyone! This semester my main goal is to make you write. And I mean really write." He paused for dramatic effect, as if he thought it was Dead Poet's Society. "This is not like your other English classes, where you put minimal effort into a 'meh' essay and turn it in, and you're happy with a B. No, I want you to feel something."

After that, you couldn't help but tune him out. He wasn't bad, no. But he was just boring and unremarkable, and anything a high school writing teacher from Tennessee would be, in the way he stuttered or played with the lid of his plastic coffee cup.

He spent most of the class prattling off the syllabus and giving out the first assignment, due in a couple of days. You weren't especially interested in writing as a whole, and even less interested in the prompt of 'write about you,' but you shoved the paper into your backpack and figured you'd give it a shot.

"Mr. Miller?" asked a voice from the front.

"Yes, Cairo?” Mr. Miller said, and you raised your head up, looking to where he was speaking. The hand belonged to a girl with dark hair, and you immediately recognised her as the one Winnie had been talking to before class. She was clearly very smart, with a small stack of books on her desk in front of her.

“Are we talking about ourselves literally, as in our achievements, or as in our emotions and how we feel?” she asked. Cairo looked pretty when she talked, though you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came. This was fleeting. It was important to remember that.

“It’s up to you, actually,” he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his desk. “Whatever really lets me know you.” Boy, how cliche.

When class ended, Winnie bounded over to you with a smile, her school bag tucked under her arm like it had been earlier. “Sooo, how was your first class?”

“It was pretty good, no complaints,” you said, fumbling with your folder and shoving it back into your bag.

“So, listen, do you want to sit with me at lunch? Me and Cairo sit together and you can totally join us if you want,” said Winnie, still as bubbly as ever. She gestured towards the door, and you could see the girl from earlier looking through the books on the bookshelf that stood next to it.

You shook your head. “Sorry, I got invited by a group to sit with them and I already said I would.”

Winnie frowned, pouting cartoonishly with her lower lip drooping. “No worries. If ever again though, me and Cairo would be happy to have you."

You gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Maybe tomorrow."

You ate lunch that day leaning against a concrete wall underneath the football bleachers, with no one else around, a thick paperback in your one hand and a sandwich in the other, headphones over your ears.

===+++===

"Thank you all so much for your submissions," Mr. Miller said, a stack of essays sitting under his arms as he passed them back to the class. The weather of that Friday was much more relaxed, with a smattering of clouds covering up the sun, the way you liked it.

The past three days had been just as uneventful as the last, and you went home each night only to wake up the next morning and stay equally as unenthusiastic, and attempt to bury your face into the fabric of your pillow for another five minutes.

He cleared his throat. "I've decided to do something fun, and kind of crown a 'winner' for the week, if you will." He shrugged. "It's just someone I really was impressed with, and want to recognise so, uh, we'll do this after every writing piece."

From behind the class with your head propped up on your palm, you saw Cairo tensing at his words. It had become clear even through disinterested observation that she cared way more about the class than literally anyone else— maybe even Mr. Miller. She raised her hand first, offered feedback on anyone made to read aloud, and always stayed after. She was probably itching for the recognition and you figured she deserved it too.

Which was why it shocked the hell out of you when Mr. Miller walked right up to his desk, put his hands in his pockets, cleared his throat like he thought it was a drum-roll moment, and announced, "this week I was incredibly impressed with (Y/n)'s writing."

There was no way. You froze, not entirely sure he was talking to you. Maybe he had just mispronounced someone else's name indistinguishably close to yours. Cairo's head whipped around, face equally as in shock. There was no way. Winnie was smiling at you, other kids were staring, and you wanted to die.

"Uh...thanks."

From the other side of the room, Winnie whooped for you, clapping a little, in an awkward way. Someone else let out a cough. Mr. Miller shook his head, and said, "No, thank you. Your writing was really impressive. It made me feel, in a way that was refreshing from some other things I've read."

Cairo whipped back around to gape at him for a moment and then back to you. Then, back to Mr. Miller as he continued. "I don't have much in terms of prizes, but there is a bowl of candy over there, and you can take one if you'd like."

You nodded, standing up and making your way over to the clear bowl. Why the hell not. Writing had never been something you thought you were fantastic at— you had never shared it with anyone since there had been no one to share it with. Your fingers went in, and out you pulled a grape lollipop, retreating back to your seat and popping it in your mouth.

From the front, you felt Cairo glancing at you from over her shoulder, but tried to ignore the raising hairs on the back of your neck with her focus on you. “Okay,” said Mr. Miller. “Turn to your textbooks.”

===+++===

The grape lollipop was still in your mouth at lunchtime, leaning against the concrete wall and feeling the hot Tennessee breeze ruffle against your soft shirt, moving it gently against your skin. It was quiet out, and you had your headphones over one ear, leaving the other one to listen to the trees and the wind.

That's how you heard the footsteps from around the corner, even through your music. You looked up from where your eyes had been tracing the cracks of the concrete and watching the ants walk by into their nearby hill, and there she was.

Cairo Sweet had found you.

She stood a bit down the way, on the path, with her arms crossed right over her chest. Her eyes were just as dark as before, and they bore into yours with a strange carnal desire. It sent a shiver down your spine.

"Uh, hi?" you managed. She didn’t even acknowledge it.

"So, how long are you going to keep lying to Winnie for?" Cairo asked, her voice as smooth as butter on your ears. It was a question that caught you completely off guard in its sincerity.

"Uh— I'm not— I haven't been lying," you stammered. Cairo wasn't convinced; her eyebrows lifted a little, creasing her forehead in disbelief. She took a step, one agonisingly after the other, closing the distance between you two until she stood directly beneath you, staring up through her lashes in a near haunting way. Subconsciously you took a small step back.

"I have a question," she whispered, like it was right in your ears. You could feel your blood rushing to them quickly, and it felt as if everything was happening in an almost sinful daze, slow and burning.

"Yeah?" you murmured back, fighting against the lollipop to speak. It made it harder to swallow.

"Can you smell my perfume?" Cairo asked, and your brain hung off every word that spilled from her lips.

"Yes," You clumsily nodded, eyes shooting down to her perfect mouth as it moved, then up to the freckled apples of her cheeks. You knew you were breathing loudly. "It's lavender, and—"

"—Good," she praised, barely audible in her sickly soft whisper. You nodded again, head feeling heavy. God, this girl. "Good," Cairo said again. You didn't know what to say.

"I want to read your essay," she continued, scanning the bleachers for a moment and then eyes shifting back to you in full force. She had you right where she wanted you. Under her thumb.

"Uhhhh, why?" you trailed off, confused as all hell and letting out an awkward laugh to cover.

"It's good, isn't it?" She asked, challenging you with her stare and a smirk, as if to say she knew exactly what she was doing to you chemically. "I haven't found many I want to read."

"Essays?" You mumbled.

"Good ones," she corrected you, whispering it slowly. Your gaze lowered to her lips again, her lower one caught between her teeth. Her own eyes flew to the lollipop, the stick hanging between you both.

Your breathing hitched when her hand came up, lightly grabbing the end and oh so gently pulling it from your mouth, some of your saliva carrying with it. She twirled it, never breaking eye contact with you as she placed the purple crystalline sugar on her tongue, closing her mouth around it for a moment. Cairo smiled, then pulled it from her lips and placed it back in yours.

You blinked slowly, unsure of what this was but finding it all too addicting to know how to stop it. At the sound of voices in the distance, the spell was broken, and Cairo looked back over her shoulder. You cleared your throat, realising the situation you were in.

"What're you trying to do?" You asked. It wasn't a gentle question, but it wasn't a harsh one either. Part of you wanted her to whisper back something cheesy and romantic. Or maybe you wanted something salacious to come from her all-too-plush lips, and the moment to end with hers on yours.

But instead she just blinked at you. It was like the question had taken her power away; she faltered completely. She frowned, almost frustrated by you asking, and she didn't have an answer. "Just let me know about the essay? I'd really like to read it."

Before you could reply, she turned around and walked away, as if going back to a drawing board far off in the distance. You watched her go, turning the lollipop over in your mouth.

===+++===

I should like to think that when I am older, the places I have been will make me cry. They will not meld together, in one long train; I will not move from car to car, blazing past what it may contain and never stopping to look out the window.

I will slide into a booth or take out a folding chair if I must, and watch the world go by. I will sit atop the mountains or amongst the grains of sand on a beach, and watch my eyes begin to water in the light of the setting sun.

Your eyes scanned over the essay in your hands, flipping through it and looking at all of Mr. Miller's notes. There were only four, and two of them were 'Wow!'. Even knowing he was impressed, you were at a loss for how this could be considered impressive. It was just words on a paper. Not difficult to write them, or copy them down. You were just talking, but on a page.

My mother seems to think I can’t hear her crying through the walls at night, wishing she were different. Her tears keep me up, and I trip and drown in the puddles of her despair, falling through the surface and into the depths hidden beneath, whenever I leave my room. I love her, and she always manages to convince herself I do not. She loves me, I always must convince myself she does.

It was this paragraph that made you hesitate, standing behind your locker door and rereading it over and over in your mind. There was no way you could show this to someone- and especially not Cairo.

And right there, like Cairo was conjured up by your mind, she was walking right past you, bag over her shoulder and book under her arm. You looked at her pass, the voice in the back of your mind whispering the word fleeting into your ear. It had been a week since your uncomfortable conversation (if you could even call it that) from underneath the bleachers, and she was acting weird.

She was almost avoiding you, and it was rather noticeable. Not to anyone else, who were unaware you knew each other existed, but to you, you knew. When Winnie said good morning and Cairo happened to be there, she would glance away, fully aware of you staring at her like a big idiot.

You found your way into the classroom, and Mr. Miller was writing something on the board in big white letters. It said 'MEANING,' and 'SYMBOL' in a smaller script underneath. He turned back when he was done, smiling over at Cairo and stuffing his hands into his pockets.

She always was the class favourite, and it made sense. Even if your writing was enchantingly fantastic, or some other amazing bullshit word Mr. Miller would write in blue pen that made you doubt he could actually read, Cairo was the one who actually tried. "I want everyone," he said, clearing his throat with a grunt, "to find a partner and sit down with them. This is going to be a partner activity."

You froze. Shit. These things sucked when you were the new kid who knew no one. You glanced over at Winnie, hopeful you'd find a partner in her, but she was madly gesturing towards Cairo to get her attention, and it made you smile a bit at the look on her face— until you saw who Cairo was staring at. You. Your smile went away in an instant.

Her brown eyes were staring at you again, sharp and intense. Then she picked up her bag, tucked the books she brought with her under her arm, and made due on her plan to pick you. You sent your glance away, as if to pretend you couldn't tell she was coming for you. And yet when her books landed on the table with a soft thud, you couldn't ignore her anymore.

"Care to partner up?" She asked, pulling the chair back to sit down before you could even answer. From the other side of the room, you could see Winnie staring at you, looking confused as all hell.

"Uh, sure," you managed. Was she just going to pretend you two hadn't shared whatever that was? It seemed to be the case, and it seemed she knew you were uncomfortable. Cairo Sweet almost seemed to relish in doing that to people.

"So, how'd you enjoy your first week here?" She asked, pulling out a notebook and flipping to a fresh page. She leaned forward, crossing one leg over her other.

You shrugged carefully. "It was good. Boring, but good."

Cairo nodded. "This is a really boring town, so that makes sense."

"Yeah..." you trailed off. She made putting sentences together incredibly hard for you.

Mr. Miller's assignment was boring beyond belief, but Cairo sat up straight the entire time he gave out directions, eyebrows lowering a bit or head tilting after every clarification, like she was making a mental reminder to remember that later. You attempted to ignore her, looking over to the bookshelf on your other side out of boredom.

They were all leather bound, in alternating shades of brown and green, and some hardcovers in sheathes intermixed. Finnegan's Wake and Scienza Nuova, Being and Time and Infinite Jest, you recognised and had read them all. Day-long car rides would do that to you, and it was within reading you found a particular solace from your mom screaming along to the radio.

"(Y/n), are you listening?" Cairo whispered over at you, pulling your gaze back towards her. You nodded, even though you weren't. Her leaning in seemed to fill your nose with her smell. It was lavender, and it was overpowering.

She raised her eyebrows at you like she knew you were lying again. "Really? What're we doing, then?"

You blinked. Shit. "Uh...I don't know, sorry," you apologised, feeling somewhat sheepish. Cairo gave you a judging look, and you were starting to feel like maybe she was regretting choosing you as her partner. She sighed.

"It's fine. Do you want to maybe come over on Friday? We can work on the paper," she said, playing with her pencil. You frowned.

"I thought Winnie said there was a party on Friday."

Now Cairo looked confused. "Are you going to that?"

"I thought you were?" You questioned, trailing off. She laughed at that, like it was a funny suggestion.

"No, it's not really my scene. Winnie's the partier," she grinned. "A party animal, even."

You nodded, feeling yourself relax a little bit. "That makes sense. You're probably writing or reading instead or something."

She seemed intrigued. "Is that what you think of me? A nerd?"

"Uh..." there was a certain heat flowing towards your cheeks, and it felt like the room was a million degrees. "A little, yeah."

"Wooow!—" Her voice rose in a mocking offence.

"—No, I don't— That's not!— I—"

"You think I'm a geek."

"Yeah, only because you're always reading and stuff, so," you argued, raising your hands up. She laughed.

"So if you read, that makes you a nerd?"

"That's obviously not what I'm saying, but the normal kids just go home and watch a show or something," you shrugged. A beat of silence passed between you, and you groaned, realising your mistake and dragging your hands down your face.

"'Normal', huh?" She asked. You sent her a glare, only to find her bottom lip caught between her teeth as she smiled at you, taking great fun in making you red. Then, within an instant, as if it had been flipped like a switch, the weightless look in her eyes shifted to something far darker.

"You know," she said, and you found your heart catching in your throat. "I don't only read in my free time. I find other things to do." She was back at a whisper, leaning in towards your ear. Each enunciation reverberated in your ear drums and filled your brain with sinful ideation.

"I actually like to do things over and over. Creature of habit, really," she continued and your eyebrows rose. The classroom felt even more humid than it had before, and some sweat was already forming on your forehead. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, and you felt hyperaware of how he kept glancing towards the both of you, his arms crossed and a deep frown on his face at the almost voyeuristic display.

The bell rang, and just as if nothing had happened, Cairo stood up, gathered her things, and walked off like she had under the bleachers.

"Wait-" You were left frozen there, watching her go out the door and down the hall. It took another ten seconds of sitting there for the spell she had cast on you again to be broken, but when it did, you shot up.

Clumsily you threw your notebook into your backpack, slinging it over your shoulder and taking off as quickly as you could. You wouldn't let Cairo flee.

She was near her locker, where you found her a few halls down. From over her shoulder, Winnie saw you coming, and sent you a friendly wave. Cairo followed her eyes, turning towards you and eyes widening. She was clearly surprised, crossing her arms over her chest as you walked right up to her and stopped.

"I have a question," you said.

"Ask away," said Cairo.

You nodded, thinking for a moment. "Why'd you pick me as your partner in this?"

She scoffed at this, uncrossing her arms and rolling her eyes like you were missing something obvious. It hadn't mattered how loud the passing crowd around you was. You heard her loud and clear, and it filled you with a sense of warmth that you hadn't felt since "fleeting" was just another word in the dictionary and not a mantra.

"Because, I think you're special," she said, only to you in the crowd of passing kids. You couldn't see Mr. Miller watching you both intently from the far wall, one arm crossed over the other.

===+++===

okay so this may or may not be a series i'm starting, but i at least know there is a part two that's already halfway done. part of what took me so long and why i've been gone for like a month has just been me agonising over every damn word. so. enjoy this bad boy ig? not that much happens in this part, but i promise the next part will be kind of crazy.

#jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl

471 notes · View notes

haesunflower · 10 months

Text

moments that makes everyone think you're dating (zb1).....₊˚⊹♡

genre: fluff/comedy

pairing: reader (mostly gn) x zerobaseone

about/tags: you're not dating, but everyone seems to think you are? hmm i wonder why?

just cute things hehe...

⠀⠀♡ kim jiwoong ♡ ⠀⠀

for some reason, you are always invited to movie night at the dorms

the boys initially teased jiwoong, but you cleared the air and told everyone that you were just childhood friends and you've never dated

the boys reluctantly accept the story

but your legs are always intertwined at the couch, and your head is always finding comfort on his chest, and his arms are always draped around your figure

members are dumbfounded, confused, then disgusted. friends??? always holding each other like that??? in front of us????

taerae who was getting popcorn, throws a singular piece to the both of you after he sees jiwoong nuzzling his nose into your hair

"the both of you...get a room please we're trying to enjoy the movie"

"you're just jealous taerae" you snipe back, throwing back the popcorn piece

jiwoong giggles and says "taerae-ya if you wanted to be cuddled you could have just said so"

everyone in the room is laughing except for taerae

⠀⠀ ♡ zhang hao ♡ ⠀⠀

you're his lockscreen in one of his many phones

when members would ask who that is – gyuvin, ricky, and yujin (the ones that have known hao the longest) would snicker and giggle, egging the question on and insinuating that you're hao's significant other

"oh, that's y/n. my best friend from when I was in school"

"best friend huuuhhh" gyuvin teases, raising his eyebrows up and down

hao throws a pillow at gyuvin to get him to shut up

one time, ricky caught hao going through your old pictures together and compiling it for a sweet birthday message he was gonna send to you

best believe that ricky immediately informed gyuvin and yujin about what he was doing and he got teased relentlessly that day

the 3 other yuehuaz end up gossiping to the rest of the members that they have in fact, met you in person and that you are in fact, insanely gorgeous that hao is out of your league and that in fact, gyuvin said he found you stunning and hao in fact, gave gyuvin the silent treatment for 2 weeks.

⠀⠀ ♡ sung hanbin ♡ ⠀⠀

hanbin asks for your help often to meal prep and cook at the dorms with him – it's mostly stuff that can be frozen and reheated for the week so that the boys have healthy homecooked meals to enjoy

it's grossly domestic, you'd think the both of you were in a long term relationship

sometimes, the members catch you feeding each other

hanbin would blow gently on the spoon before catching your attention by tilting your chin upwards, "how does this taste?"

he brings the spoon to your mouth and he beams when you smile and give him a thumbs up

in the summer, the kitchen gets too hot so you find yourself dabbing at hanbin's forehead sweat while he stirs the sauce

he shoots you a grateful smile, cheek dimples on display

"god, are you two married or what?" jiwoong grumbles as he passes by

you two just chuckle

⠀⠀ ♡ seok matthew ♡ ⠀⠀

you're his gym buddy and actually no one knows that you exist up until a few members started asking matthew if they could join him at the gym

you always greet matt so cheerfully, giving him a hello hug (you're both foreigners)

every time you finish a set you guys high five one another, and if you lack motivation he'll say something like: "one more set and i'll give you a reward"

"oh yeah like what, matt?"

"guess you'll have to finish up and see" 😉

harmless flirting is an effective motivational tool for the both of you

the rewards range from: a pre-workout smoothie treat or a signed photocard of himself haha

gunwook and jiwoong once caught matt staring at your ass :D not his fault your ass so fat :D

so it comes as a shock to gunwook when he hears you answering a phone call from your boyfriend, right after the three of you finished a circuit

when you leave, gunwook turns to matthew and says "she has a boyfriend? i thought you were the boyfriend!"

matthew has a shit-eating grin plastered on his face and says "nah we're just friends" and takes a sip of his water

⠀⠀ ♡ kim taerae ♡ ⠀⠀

he's like your driver, and you're the ultimate passenger princess/prince

taerae rushes out of practice the moment it's over "sorry guys gotta go, y/n is waiting for me to pick them up from school"

matthew calls taerae out for being a simp, while hanbin scolds matthew to leave the loverboy alone :(

taerae has no time to correct hanbin and just rushes out of there

he doesn't like making you wait after all!!

whenever it starts to rain too, he would leave the dorms telling members he's running an errand, when everyone knows he's just going to where you are so you don't have to commute in the rain

one time, taerae and hao were out to run an ACTUAL errand when you called him in a panic to ask if he was in the area – you were drenched in the rain and your phone was about to die

taerae of course, said he would come get you :) he also made hao move to the backseat so you could be right next to him :)

⠀⠀♡ ricky ♡ ⠀⠀

he's always on his damn phone, grinning from ear to ear or giggling to himself

when members ask him what's so funny, his face goes back to neutral and says "nothing"

the members don't know who he's texting and facetiming

while you were talking on facetime, ricky left his phone on the kitchen counter so he could make himself some food, and gyuvin took this as an opportunity to snatch his phone to figure out who you were

gyuvin was so quick, ricky didn't even realize it happened

gyuvin brought the phone to gunwook's room where they eagerly said hi and introduced themselves, then continued to ask you a bunch of questions like "how did you meet?" "how long have you been dating?" "what do you like best about ricky?"

i mean, you could answer all the questions but you had no time to – as ricky busted the door open and snatched the phone back

"sorry about that y/n, my members obviously don't have any common courtesy"

"haha it's fine ricky, they're very cute"

"cute??? cute you find them cute???" ricky sounds offended as he walks away from the two other members, shooting them a look and faking a punch

⠀⠀♡ kim gyuvin ♡ ⠀⠀

any free time he gets, he visits home so he can spend time with eumppappa

both you and gyuvin were the dog sitters and dog walkers for your building before he debuted

but he's getting a little busier nowadays, and his visits to his family home have been less frequent

you decide you'd walk eumppappa and your dog aiki to gyuvin's dorm for a quick visit, which has then become weekly tradition

the members just assume you're his significant other with how often you visit with his dog

that, and the fact that gyuvin refers to you as "eumppappa's eomma" and you refer to gyuvin as "aiki's appa"

the members don't know it's because you bought the dogs together

whatever tho, everyone thinks it's so cute

⠀⠀♡ park gunwook ♡ ⠀⠀

he's inserting you in the conversation any chance he gets

like when the boys are just playing overwatch or league of legends gunwook goes "ahhh i should invite y/n to play"

or when gunwook is trying food from a new restaurant he would excitedly take a picture and say "y/n would like this i should send some to her"

or when he's out shopping he would say "this would look so great on y/n"

or when he's helping yujin with school and he surprisingly doesn't know the answer, he says "y/n would know this, hold on let me ask"

again, every chance he gets. your name is mentioned. he's like an excited little puppy when your name gets mentioned by other people too

example, "gunwook i got ice cream - maybe you can share with y/n" and then he's bolting to his phone asking you to come over

the older members thinks it's adorable, how much he likes you

and when you actually meet the members clad in gunwook's sweater they all come to the conclusion you feel the same way for him

A/N: i missed writing and being delulu

૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 1 year

Text

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 1

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

Warnings: 18+ Smut. Dark!Rafe. Virgin!Reader, Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering, squirting. Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 9k words (Yo it took me months to write but I finally did it)

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So this is an original idea I’ve had for a while now... and this is the longest fanfic I’ve ever written for a character. Who did I write this tale about Rafe motherfucking Cameron of course. HA! I may do a part 2 but we’ll see based on the response it gets. Love you all and thanks for reading and listening - there’s music in there too so if you can listen to the tracks as you read it’ll heighten the experience. 🫶 Enjoy!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.

Rose, elegant and poised as ever, fiddled with Ward's bowtie. It was a futile attempt to straighten it, and you wondered if the Kooks knew how ridiculous they looked, their privileged lives spent fussing over trivial things.

"Do you play?" Ward's voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest. He had seen you eyeing the piano in their opulent living room before, and it was clear he suspected you had a musical inclination.

"A little," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. You didn't want to give too much away. The Kooks had a tendency to pry, and you had learned the hard way that it was better to keep your guard up.

The Camerons were pleasant enough, but like the other Kooks on Figure Eight, they didn't really care about the Pogues. You had grown up being told that Pogues were different from Kooks, but as you got older, you realized it was more complicated than that. The Kooks were narrow-minded, lacking empathy and understanding. They saw the Pogues as nothing more than servants, there to cater to their every whim. It was a toxic dynamic and one that you had learned to navigate with caution.

The key to survival on the Outer Banks was invisibility. You had learned that early on. The less you revealed about yourself, the safer you were. So you didn't tell Ward that your father had started teaching you piano before you could even walk. You didn't tell him that music was your escape, your solace, your everything.

"Well, a bit of something is better than nothing," Ward chuckled, his eyes flickering back to you. "I bought it thinking it would be nice to have music in the house that wasn't rap or pop, but you know how kids are." He chuckled again. "No one seems interested in learning how to play it. If you want to try it out, our door is always open."

The Kooks were the quintessential chameleons, expertly donning the cloak of benevolence and charity. But behind the facade lay their self-centered motives, concealed in plain sight. In their company, you had to be just as duplicitous as them, your true self lost in a sea of artifice. So you donned your own mask of deceit, feigning a grin while burying your true feelings behind a veneer of politeness.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway struck six, Rose and Mr. Cameron stepped into the warm North Carolina evening, dressed to the nines for their elegant black-tie affair. You were left behind in the kitchen with Wheezie, chatting aimlessly about everything and nothing. A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Want to watch a movie, Wheezie?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

"Maybe next time? I'm having a Stranger Things watch party with my friends. We're on season three, actually," she replied as she pulled out her phone and began texting.

"Oh, that's cool. Sure, let me know when you're hungry and we'll order in."

A few minutes later, you were left alone in the kitchen, grappling with the void of the next five hours stretching before you. Your gaze was inexorably drawn to the open double doors of the living room, and a force beyond your control tugged at your heartstrings.

There, in the corner of the Camerons' living room, stood a magnificent black Steinway & Sons piano. A work of art that you had only seen in fleeting glimpses on the internet, played by virtuosos with mastery beyond compare.

The Camerons' piano was an exquisite piece. Valued upwards of forty thousand dollars, it was a show-stopper that begged to be played in a prestigious concert hall. And yet there it sat in their living room, untouched and unloved.

With a fluttering heart, you approached the baby grand piano, drawn by an unconscious force beyond your control. As you lifted the fallboard, a heady scent of wax and mahogany wafted into your nostrils, creating a longing you could barely contain. Your fingertips brushed against the smooth, pristine ivory keys, unable to resist the urge to touch. As you pressed down on one, a crystalline note filled the air, flawless and true. Before you could even think, you were seated on the bench.

Back straight and feet planted firmly on the floor, you thought about all the classical pieces you had practiced over the years and loved to play. How each piece would sound hollow on your cheap, antiquated piano in your small family home. Music was your first love, and you longed for the day to play on stage accompanied by the New York Symphony Orchestra.

Closing your eyes, you allowed your mind to wander, imagining a sea of faces, a packed audience hanging on your every note. In your mind's eye, you saw your dad sitting in the front row, his gaze filled with pride and love. The thought of his reaction, a validation of all his sacrifices over the years, filled you with purpose.

Driven by your distant dream, you let your fingers glide across the keys, effortlessly weaving a tapestry of sound that flooded the Camerons' living room with music.

With meticulous attention, you listened closely to the dynamics of the piece. You noticed the way the Steinway amplified the subtlest variations in volume, imbuing the composition with a melancholic mood. Your fingers moved with practiced ease, executing intricate runs and arpeggios with fluid grace.

Enraptured by the music, you let the notes wash over you. Every facial expression was a reflection of the emotional journey unfolding before you. As the piece reached its crescendo, your fingers moved faster, striking the keys with greater force, a physical manifestation of your emotions. Your hands flowed in flawless harmony with the rhythm, pouring your soul into the music. And with the final notes, you laughed breathlessly, basking in the afterglow of your musical outpouring.

But your blissful moment was cruelly interrupted as you suddenly sensed you weren’t alone. Your eyes snapped open, and a cold wave of fear washed over you.

“Shit! I am so sorry,” you stammered, your voice trailing off in a rush of apologies as you gingerly lowered the piano fallboard.

“You know,” Rafe’s words were laced with honey, each syllable slow and sweet, yet there was no mistaking the menacing undertone to them. “We don’t take kindly to people touching our things,” he drawled, his intense gaze locked onto yours, a warning glimmer lurking within his dark eyes.

“I… I had permission from your dad,” you insisted, your words barely audible above a whisper as you tried to defend your actions.

His response was a dismissive chuckle. The atmosphere was taut with tension as he nonchalantly propped his golf bag against the wall. Leisurely slow, he sauntered over to you, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets.

“What were you playing anyway?” he inquired, his tone deceptively relaxed.

“You mean the name of the piece?” you swallowed hard, fear palpable. “It’s called Nocturne in C-sharp Minor.”

The tall blonde squinted at you, and you could not decipher his expression. Wanting to avoid further irritation, you slowly rose from the piano bench and dusted it off.

“What kinda name is that?”

“I… I…” you stammered, blood surging in your ears from fear as Rafe suddenly leaned in and lifted the fallboard. He scanned the keys, perhaps checking for any scratches. You took a deep breath. The scent of his expensive cologne and freshly mown grass overwhelmed your senses.

“I don’t know. It worked for Chopin, I guess.” You said quietly.

“Chopin…” he said with his lip jutted.

“He’s the composer. He wrote it and-”

“I know Chopin,” Rafe interrupted, his eyes suddenly locked on you. Up close, you could not deny that they were a striking shade of blue, if not for the death glare he gave you. “Chopin, Beethoven, Einaudi, Bach…” He backed away and sat in a nearby chair. “Brahms… I’ve been to enough of those long-ass concerts to at least know their names.”

You felt a confusing mix of awe and jealousy as you listened to Rafe’s words. The pit in your stomach proved this. You had never been to a proper symphony concert, and the school concerts you had attended were barely amateur. The thought of your dad’s broken promise to take you to one was a constant source of frustration. However, Rafe’s casual disdain for the very concerts he was lucky enough to attend seemed to be a new addition.

“Well… I’m not getting paid to mess around on your piano,” you said with a wry smile, as you tried to mask your emotions.

“You’re right. You’re not,” Rafe retorted while he twisted the gold signet ring around his index finger with his thumb. Head tilted to the side, his eyes raked over every inch of you, from your hair, your oversized sweatshirt and jeans to your worn knockoff Converses. You felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. He made you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“I… I should check on Wheezie,” you whispered, eager to escape the tension in the room.

“Why?” Rafe asked, halting his twirling of the signet ring. His face appeared bemused until a sly grin tugged at his lips. “Weeze is a big girl, right? Might as well… play Chopin while she’s doing her own thing…”

As you babysat for the Camerons, you occasionally spotted Rafe in the vicinity. Sometimes, he was accompanied by a striking beauty, while other times he hung out with his friends. Even when he was alone, his body language was a clear warning: "Keep your distance." His piercing gaze made you feel diminutive and unimportant, as if any attempts at interaction would be met with cold indifference. In his presence, you felt like you were navigating hostile terrain, just a misstep away from a precarious situation.

"Well?" he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his lower lip with a finger. The gesture seemed to carry a message, but what message you weren't sure. What was certain was that his expression of amusement made it evident that the outcome was secondary—he was simply enjoying watching you squirm.

Your tongue darted out to moisten your parched lips, while anxiety twisted in your gut as you stared nervously at the grand Steinway piano and Rafe. The weight of his words lingered in the air, causing you to hesitate and consider the potential consequences of your answer.

Every which way you looked at it, you were fucked.

Rafe was bound to tell his parents, and you were sure enough about to lose your job once they found out. Despite Mr. Cameron's outward kindness and willingness to accommodate, you knew very well that playing their piano without supervision was not within the bounds of your permission. And he certainly would not appreciate you lying about it either.

Still, you were determined to make the most out of a shitty situation. You weren't trying to prove anything to Rafe, but if this was going to be your last time playing a Steinway, you would go out in style.

You had chosen a haunting, evocative melody, a tale of lost love and longing. The notes rang out, clear and true, as your fingers danced over the keys.

Closing your eyes and shutting out the world and Rafe, you allowed the music to flow from your fingertips, guided by instinct and emotion. Your touch was delicate yet confident, breathing life into the haunting melody.

After the last notes of the piece hung in the air like a delicate mist. You held your breath, waiting for some kind of response from Rafe, but all you got was a deafening silence. The room felt like it was closing in on you, and you couldn't help but cast a quick glance in his direction.

Rafe's eyes bored into yours with an intensity that made your heart stop. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. When you finally lowered the fallboard, the tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

"I should check on Wheezie," you whispered, breaking the silence.

Rafe made no reply, and you took that as permission to leave. When you returned downstairs a half hour later, Rafe was nowhere to be seen and you sighed in relief.

In the best-case scenario, Rafe would keep your little transgression to himself. In the worst-case scenario, you could explain to Mr. Cameron that curiosity got the better of you and seek his forgiveness. Either way, you vowed never to touch their piano again.

"What's on your setlist today, piano girl?" Rafe's voice caused your heart to skip a beat, and you nearly spewed out the orange juice pooling in your mouth. A mere week had passed since your previous babysitting job at the illustrious Cameron residence. Yet here you were once again, feeling a pang of anxiety at the mere sight of him. You had desperately hoped to avoid any interaction with Rafe for the remainder of your shift, but fate had other plans in store.

There he was, sauntering into the kitchen, sporting an obnoxiously bright salmon polo shirt that clashed horribly with his teal shorts, and finished with a backwards baseball cap. Despite his frat boy appearance, you couldn't help but admit that he looked undeniably handsome. The realization hit you like a brick and left you feeling inexplicably uneasy.

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Rafe's gaze shifted towards the living room, where the Steinway was waiting behind closed doors.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched Rafe roll his eyes.

"Whatever," he drawled with a dismissive flick of his wrist, exuding an air of nonchalant superiority as he strode out of the kitchen.

You parroted his words under your breath, feeling frustration boil inside you. Despite his insufferable demeanor, you chose to let it slide. After all, you needed this job, and with a week of smooth sailing under your belt, you suspected that Rafe had kept your little piano incident under wraps. You weren't about to jeopardize your livelihood over a petty disagreement with Rafe Cameron of all people.

Just as you were considering taking refuge in the kitchen to avoid Rafe, the sound of a key being struck on the Steinway echoed through the kitchen, beckoning you towards it.

You stepped into the living room, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, only to find Rafe sprawled in the same chair as before. The piano's fallboard was already raised. Its ebony and ivory keys gleamed in the warm light of the setting sun. Rafe's piercing gaze locked onto yours, then flicked towards the piano.

"Do you want me to play something?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe shrugged, looking uninterested. "Do you want to?" he asked, his voice dripping with boredom.

"I don't mind, I guess," you replied, chewing your bottom lip.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were desperate for another chance to play the Steinway. There was a piece that you couldn't get out of your head, and you knew it would sound magnificent on it. You did not need to be asked twice. But at the same time, you were no fool.

You had heard whispers about the "Kook King." Infamous for settling disputes with his fists, not for acts of kindness. You had no idea what was taking place here or why Rafe was suddenly allowing you to play the Camerons' prized possession. But despite your internal warning bells that this could be a trap, you put your glass of orange juice on the floor next to the bench. Consequences be damned.

Taking a confident breath, you aimed to kill.

As you hit the final notes of the composition, the silence was shattered by Rafe's ragged breaths. Your eyes locked onto his, and you saw a flicker of something in his gaze that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I've been working on that one for a while," you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite his stare. "I know it's not perfect, but I-"

"No, it's good," Rafe interjected with a croak. "You're good."

His words validated your talent, and a rush of excitement surged through you, causing a grin to spread across your face as you basked in his praise. But the moment was short-lived as Rafe pulled out his phone and started scrolling, his demeanor shifting from impressed to cold indifference. Without warning, he abruptly rose from his seat, an air of superiority emanating from his towering frame.

"Tell Rose I'm having dinner at Top's," he drawled, his voice dripping with aloofness as he looked down his nose at you.

"Sure, okay," you stammered, still reeling from his sudden change in behavior.

Without another glance in your direction, he strode out of the room, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

It became routine. A ritual. Embedded in your weekly visits to the Cameron residence.

Each time you babysat Wheezie, the air would fill with the soothing sound of classical music, as you took your place at the Steinway and brought the keys to life. Rafe, either in the background or seated nearby, listened intently. His brooding demeanor was a stark contrast to the beauty of the music.

As the weeks went by, playing the Steinway became a treasured routine, and it wasn't just the music that captivated you. With every note played, the invisible barrier between you and Rafe seemed to thin. Despite his reserved exterior, there was a subtle shift in the room when he was around, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him until one evening, a simple question from him sparked a conversation that would change everything.

"Where did you even learn to play like that?" Rafe asked as the sun cast its final rays of light into the opulent living room, painting the space with a breathtaking array of orange, pink, and purple hues.

You had just finished playing a piece by Bach. The air was still thick with the lingering notes of the Prelude as you closed the Steinway lid.

"There's barely electricity on the cut. Far less for piano classes, and even if there was, you can't—you can't teach this, know what I mean? Well, not the way you play it anyway." His tone shifted, taking on a new quality of—dare you think it?—admiration. You couldn't help but wonder if the beer he was drinking had anything to do with his slip of the tongue and the emotions that seemed to seep through in his words.

You cast your eyes to find Rafe leaning forward in his chair, said beer bottle in hand, his hair falling into his face and his eyes laser-focused on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you feel like you were being seen, truly seen, by him. But as much as you were flattered by his attention, something lurking in the depths of his gaze made you feel uneasy, and you weren't entirely sure why. You brushed the stray thought aside.

"My dad taught me." You said with pride in your voice. "Did you know they used to have jazz nights at the Wreck?" You turned your body towards Rafe, eager to share this piece of history. "Back then, it wasn't called the Wreck. Anyway, my dad used to play there every night from seven until midnight until the Carreras took over. Now he works on the big oil rig in Burnsville."

"Does he still play?" Rafe asked.

You hesitated for a moment, realizing you were oversharing with Rafe Cameron of all people. But something about his presence made you feel comfortable enough to continue. "No, after my mom left," you trailed off, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "He just gave up on music altogether."

Rafe looked down, his expression unreadable.

"I guess I'm trying to keep the tradition alive, in my own way. It's not jazz, but he approves." You smiled softly. "Anyway, what about you?"

Arresting blue eyes flicked up at yours, and your stomach flipped.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with curiosity and challenge. He leaned back in his chair, the rattan creaking beneath him. He lazily ran a hand through his blonde hair, revealing his chiselled features. You weren't sure why, but the gesture felt calculated. As though it was meant to entice you. And yet you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you drank in the sight of him.

"No offense, but you don't look like the type to be into..." you waved your hand towards the piano, trying to deflect his gaze and lighten the mood.

"Yeah? What do I look like I'm into?" Rafe purred seductively, his tongue swiping his top lip. His eyes fixed on you. You didn't miss his tone. The double entendre just beneath the surface, if you were bold enough to respond to it. You were sure the alcohol running through his veins had something to do with his sudden flirty behavior. Tomorrow, he'd probably forget the whole thing. But it still didn't stop the butterflies from dancing in your stomach.

"I...I..."

"Go on, don't be shy," Rafe coaxed, his eyes dark and intense, almost daring you to take the bait.

"I don't know," you breathed out a laugh, suddenly feeling flustered and self-conscious.

"Yeah, you do." Rafe said, his tone low and teasing. "Saying I don't look like the type means you have a type in your head. So, let's hear it. What kind of man do you think I am, Y/N?"

You were certain this was not about music anymore, and you felt way out of your element. What were you supposed to say about that? You decided to keep the conversation neutral and err on the side of caution.

"Okay," you nodded as you shifted on the bench. "You look like the type to be interested in other types of music, you know like rap or hip-hop, rock— even country and western, anything but this."

Rafe looked away with a chuckle, a deep rumble that made your skin tingle. He nodded slowly, pondering your words.

"Does that sound bad? I know it sounds awful. I'm sorry." You cringed.

"Nah, it's pretty tame actually... innocent even..." Rafe murmured more to himself than to you. You shivered as his piercing blue gaze met yours, then slowly traveled down to your lips, neck, and every inch of your oversized t-shirt and cardigan to your jeans-covered body.

He cleared his throat, his voice low as he spoke. "And you're not wrong. Classical music was my mom's thing. She loved it." He said taking a swig of his beer.

"Oh," you breathed out, taken aback by the unexpected answer. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Why Rafe was always so engrossed in the music each time you played. The wistful expression that crossed his face whenever he heard familiar pieces of music. It was like a window into his soul, a glimpse into a hidden part of him that he kept from the world. And just as you pieced together your thoughts, Rafe spoke, confirming your suspicions.

"We used to go to the mainland to see 'The Four Seasons' or 'Carmen' or some other shit like that. I don't know, it reminds me of her, I guess. Takes me back to happier times." Rafe shrugged, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he sipped his beer.

"I'm sorry..." you whispered.

"Nah, don't be. She was sick for a long time, and now she's... Anyway, It's all good now." Rafe replied with a forced nonchalance, a fragile façade attempting to conceal his true emotions.

"So, you listen to classical music for nostalgia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with a touch of melancholy.

“I guess you could say that,” Rafe said thoughtfully, tilting his head from side to side as he considered your words. He scrunched up his face, eyebrows drawn together as if he had tasted something bitter. “But I'm not a classical music aficionado or anything. It’s not like I’m requesting it in the club. Can you imagine that shit? Right after 21 Savage fuckin’ Mozart on blast. I’d get jumped.”

"I don’t know, you might start a trend," you smiled.

“Sounds like you want me to get jumped”

You outright laughed at that one. “Well, it depends, do you deserve it?”

“Oof” Rafe countered, clutching his chest faux wounded. “That was good.”

You shrugged with a smile, feeling an unexpected kinship with Rafe of all people. Here was this tough, brooding guy who, beneath the surface, was incredibly sentimental and even had a sense of humor. It was a sweet and surprising discovery.

"What about you? Why do you play?" He asked, his blue eyes roaming across your facial features slowly, curiously, when your laughter had died and all that was left was contented silence.

"Good question. Why do I play? Well, I guess for me... it's about the emotion," you replied, your fingers tracing the Steinway keys without pressing them. "Each note, each chord, each composition tells a story. It's like I'm a part of that story, and I get to bring it to life. You don’t need words you just… feel it.”

Rafe nodded, understanding. "I get it. You're the storyteller. The piano is your instrument channelin’ that shit.”

"Exactly!" you said, touching your nose and pointing to him with an earnest laugh.

"Exactly," Rafe repeated with a soft chuckle, his gaze fixated on you.

“Hey, how come I never see you at bonfires?” Rafe asked, a mischievous glint in his eye one sunny afternoon when Rose and Mr. Cameron went out for drinks with friends, leaving Wheezie in your care.

“Bonfires just aren’t my thing,” you replied with a shrug.

“What, no friends to hang out with?” he teased.

“I have plenty of friends!” you retorted, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

“Friends that I’ve never seen you with,” he pressed.

“What do you mean ‘friends I’ve never seen you with’ are you stalking me around town?”

“Maybe I am...” he shrugged a small devious smile curled his lips. “Whatever. Well, my friends and I clearly hang out when you’re not around,” you shot back, a playful smile lighting up your face.

“Sure you do,” he drawled, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Rafe leaned forward against the piano, the sun casting a warm glow on his handsome features. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and how the muscles in his arms flexed under his t-shirt while he absentmindedly tapped his index finger on the piano lid.

“You know, there’s more to life than playing music,” Rafe said, his voice low and smooth, as he turned the words over with his tongue. His finger tapping the lid, became slower, more measured.

“Oh, I know that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I have plenty of other things going on.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like studying,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m actually quite serious about my grades.”

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a good girl," Rafe chuckled. Once again, his comment caught you off guard. Although you knew he wasn't mocking you, it still felt strange that he felt the need to mention what he perceived was good girl behavior. “Seriously though, you should have some real fun too. Do some shit you probably shouldn’t do. Life’s too short to be cooped up not living it.”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. Rafe had a point, but you weren’t sure if bonfires were the kind of fun you were looking for. Still, there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but swallow nervously. As if reading your thoughts, Rafe leaned closer.

“You know, I could show you a good time if you want.” Rafe’s voice was low and husky as he leaned in close, his minty breath fanning your cheek. While he had flirted before, this time there was a sober earnestness to his words that made your heart race. But before you could even formulate a response, the front door's slam cut through the thick tension.

Rafe straightened himself, briefly glancing towards the hallway before fixing his gaze back on you, his jaw tightly clenched in irritation. With determined strides, he purposefully walked away, the sound of his long steps resonating down the corridor, while you unintentionally caught snippets of his familiar argument with Sarah.

It seemed Sarah had developed an interest in John B, a guy you had seen around town, but Rafe vehemently disapproved due to his “pogue” status. You couldn’t fathom why he held such strong opposition, especially considering that you, too, were a Pogue. Had he conveniently forgotten? Or did he consider you an exception?

As you closed the lid of the Steinway, an inescapable curiosity filled your mind about what set your relationship with Rafe apart. Maybe he only saw you as a friend rather than a romantic interest the way Sarah felt about John B.

Reluctant to admit it to yourself, the thought pierced through, leaving you with a confusing mixture of disappointment, anger, and self-annoyance for even entertaining the idea that Rafe could ever feel that way about you.

As Rafe persisted in berating his sister, you dismissed any contemplation of what might have happened between the two of you if she had arrived just a few minutes later.

“Hello?”

“I'm in here.” Rose’s voice, sharp as a razor’s edge, resonated through the foyer of the Camerons’ residence. As you entered the kitchen, you discovered her gingerly picking up the remnants of a shattered vase from the tiled floor. You offered to help her, but she brushed you off with a dismissive gesture.

“No need, honey. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” She said, smiling unconvincingly.

Mr. Cameron burst into the room a few seconds later. His dominating presence charged the atmosphere, his eyes glinting like ice. It was only when his eyes landed on you that his demeanour changed.

“Oh, Y/N. Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ll only need you for two hours. Sarah should be back by then.” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” You replied. You scurried out of his path as he snatched a file and car keys from the kitchen table.

“I’ll be in the car.” He informed Rose tersely, eliciting a stiff nod from her.

Feeling Rose’s disquiet, you intervened to clear the shattered vase. “I can pick these up for you, Rose.” You said warmly.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You assured her with a nod.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her smile returning. “Wheeze is upstairs doing her homework. I’m sorry about all of this. Things are a bit crazy today.” She said, her grip on her bag and sunglasses tightening as if she were holding onto her sanity by a thread. And with that, she vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the shattered pieces of the vase.

Having cleared the wreckage, you climbed the stairs to find Wheezie immersed in her studies in her room, her headphones firmly in place. You inquired if she needed anything or was okay, but she appeared blissfully unaware of the chaos that had unfolded. You marvelled at her ability to concentrate amidst the turmoil, yet you couldn’t dispel the nagging suspicion that the Camerons hid a dark secret beneath their façade of rich superiority. With a sigh, you left Wheezie to her schoolwork and descended the stairs as the sound of the living room door being opened roused your suspicions.

As you passed the living room, your heart sank at the sight of Rafe. He was sitting on his usual chair, swaying back and forth, lost in a jumble of incoherent words. His eyes were bloodshot and streaked with tears. You hurried towards him, your mind racing with worry and fear. You sat down on the floor in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

He responded with a roar that shook you to your core. The words that spilled out of Rafe’s mouth were like knives, cutting deep into your soul. He berated himself with a ferocity that was frightening, how he was a failure in his father’s eyes, how he was nothing but a disappointment. You placed a comforting hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying to offer some solace amidst his torment.

His eyes flicked to your hand, then to your face, as if seeing you for the first time. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes raw with emotions you couldn’t decipher. There was anger there, yes, but there was something else too – something deeper, more primal.

“Play something.” He suddenly demanded.

“I can- I can get someone for you. Do you want me to call your-”

“No. I don’t want that. I want you to play.” He almost sneered at you.

“Okay.” You whispered tentatively.

You made your way to the piano, your fingers trembling with anticipation. As you began to play, the haunting melody flowed from your fingertips.

As the tender notes from the piano enveloped you, the outside world ceased to exist. Within the protective cocoon of the Cameron's living room, you hoped your music might be a balm for Rafe’s pain. But this sanctuary of sound was violently shattered when an aggressive tug at your hair ripped you from your reverie.

Suddenly, Rafe was there, his fingers cruelly ensnared in your hair, exerting a force so savage it wrenched your head backward, choking off your breath and stilling the music in one brutal tug. The once harmonious room was now charged with an electrifying tension, your eyes captured and held hostage by the ferocity in his.

This was not the Rafe you knew.

The Rafe towering above you appeared utterly transformed. Unrecognizable in every way. Gone was the Rafe who had shared countless evenings filled with laughter and sharing stories. Gone was the anchor that made you feel connected and safe.

Instead, frustration etched itself onto his face like a battle scar, while his dilated pupils revealed an intensity you had never witnessed before, oscillating between your fear-stricken eyes.

His gaze dipped to your parted lips as you let out the breath you were holding, and before you could react, before you could appease him, Rafe captured your lips with his.

You froze. Paralyzed against Rafe's lips. Shock stole your breath away.

Time stopped in an instant as you grappled with the thought that this was a dream, a surreal nightmare. But that fragile notion shattered like glass as Rafe's movements became evident. His lips melded against yours like clay taking form. Hard and desperate, his kiss abruptly catapulted you back into the chilling reality that this was, without a doubt, happening.

Your instinct for survival surged as your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You attempted to push him away, but Rafe tightened his grip on your hair and yanked harder, forcing your submission, his tongue plunging into your mouth when you whined in protest.

The taste of alcohol on Rafe’s tongue was bitter and overwhelming. You tried to convince yourself that this was the reason behind Rafe's behaviour. Any moment now, he would realize his mistake, any moment he would let you go. But instead, Rafe's fingers sank into the hollow of your jaw, holding it open while his tongue explored the warm interior of your mouth.

You whimpered softly as his tongue twirled against yours with ferocity. Rafe adjusted his hand in your hair and gripped tighter, making you cry out as pain surged through your scalp and neck. The sound didn't deter him, as he forced your head back drinking from your mouth greedily.

Discordant notes rang out as you lashed out wildly, reaching for anything you could hold onto for balance. Your hands found Rafe's bicep and you dug your nails into his skin, trying to pull his hand away as he kissed you like a man possessed.

Your entire body was inflamed with sensations you had never experienced before as pleasure and pain bled into one. Your scalp ached yet your body felt hot. Your nipples were suddenly sensitive to your sweater's scraggly wool while you ached between your legs for something you had not experienced before. The whirlwind of sensations new and overwhelming within you made your eyes flutter shut on their own, your hands sliding up Rafe's wrist as you held on for balance.

Rafe's mouth worked over yours with an intensity so raw that your protests turned into breathless moans and frantic gasps as you succumbed to his kiss. Your tongue tentatively meets his stroke for stroke. Rafe growled in approval and you could feel him smile into the kiss, his tongue stoking the fire deep within you and just as quickly as it started, Rafe abruptly pulled away leaving you shaking and struggling for air.

Your heart raced within your chest as you abruptly pushed yourself off the piano bench, nearly causing it to tip over in your haste. Hand clutching your chest, you struggled to catch your breath, hastily wiping away tears that had unknowingly streamed down your cheeks.

A fleeting glance at Rafe revealed his heavy breathing, his mouth agape in quick, shallow pants, and his pupils dilated, tinged with a faint hint of blue. Yet, it was the expression etched upon his face that sent a wave of terror crashing over you.

Rafe's eyes showed no remorse.

Instead, you saw an overwhelming hunger within them that made your blood run cold. Rafe’s gaze moved down from your stunned face over your trembling body. The danger that emanated from him made your knees buckle.

You took a step back, your mind whirling with fear and apprehension. But Rafe stepped forward, his eyes locked onto yours with determination.

"I-- I need to check on Wheezie. See what she'd like for dinner," you whispered, your voice shaking as you inched backwards toward the door. You turned to run but it was too late.

Rafe reached out and snatched the hem of your sweater, yanking you towards him. You struggled to break free, twisting and thrashing like a scared kitten in his grip but Rafe was relentless. His other hand reached for your waist as he pulled you close. His nose and lips trailed the back of your neck and into your hairline and he groaned as he breathed you in. With a jab of your elbow into his rib you wriggled free. It wasn't enough to wound him but it gave you the head start needed to run.

You dashed from the room, Rafe's pursuit relentless. His outstretched fingers grazed your sweater, narrowly missing its mark. It wasn't until you sprinted up the stairs that he abandoned the chase. You didn't need to glance back to feel his gaze on you. The tendrils of his breathless laugh reverberated down the corridor.

You burst into Wheezie's room, a hot mess of tears and fear. You made up some excuse about feeling unwell and had to go home immediately. After calling Rose and arranging for a replacement babysitter for Wheezie, you sat in her room and waited for the sitter to arrive.

You didn't see Rafe when you left, and you thanked God for that. You knew that if you saw him, you would break down crying, and you couldn't bear to show him any more weakness. But the tears came anyways, hot and heavy, as soon as you got home. How could you have been so stupid? You knew all the rumors about him, knew that he wasn't a good guy, and yet somehow, you thought in your warped mind that he was different. A decent human being who was simply misunderstood.

It wasn't like you didn't see the signs. They were always there, staring you right in the face. The blatant flirting, the staring, the way he undressed you with his gaze. You dismissed every red flag, thinking he couldn't like you in that kind of way because you were not the type of girl Rafe Cameron would go for and you certainly weren't the type of girl Rafe Cameron would kiss.

And it wasn't just the kiss that scared you. It was the fact that Rafe had no intention of stopping. It was the way he held onto you, the way he made you feel like you were drowning in a sea of desire. He was a predator, relentless in his pursuit of you, and as you thought about how he grabbed onto your clothes his lips tracing your neck even as you protested you couldn't help but cry even harder.

No. There was no way you were setting foot in that house again. Not after the way Rafe kissed you, not after what he was determined to get out of you.

Over the next few weeks, Rose's texts kept coming, each one more insistent than the last. But you knew better than to give in to her demands. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what had happened with Rafe. It was too dangerous, too risky, and you couldn't afford to let your guard down again.

You thought about telling her what had happened with Rafe, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How could you explain what had happened without sounding like a fool? That you had been hanging out with her stepson for months, that you had let things get out of hand?

You had every intention of never setting foot in that house again. But then Rose sent you a text, asking if you were available on Saturday. They were desperate, she said, and willing to offer triple what they usually paid. Rafe and Sarah were going to a game and the lady who was supposed to look after Wheezie had a family emergency.

You were going to turn them down, again, but the truth was that since you had dropped them as a client, it had been difficult to find other work. So, against your better judgement, you agreed, but only after Rose confirmed that she and Mr Cameron would be home long before Sarah and Rafe returned.

As the day of the babysitting gig approached, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that you shouldn't go, that it was too risky, too dangerous. But the promise of easy money was too tempting to ignore. And so, against your better judgement, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron's house once again, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you approached the front door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Rose had texted you on your way over, telling you that she would be getting ready and to let yourself in. But when you rang the doorbell and received no answer, you began to worry. Still, you didn't think anything of it when you turned the door handle and found that it was unlocked. You stepped inside and called out for Wheezie and Rose, but the house was silent.

Making your way to the kitchen, you put down your bag and pulled out your phone. You texted Rose and Wheezie to let them know that you had arrived and were in the kitchen, just in case Wheezie was plugged in. But as you waited for a response, your heart sank.

Something wasn't right. You could feel it.

You had been to the Camerons' house many times and had let yourself in on a few occasions when they were too busy to answer the door. None of this was new but it felt different. An ominous feeling washed over you. But just as you began to worry, the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your thoughts, and you sighed in relief.

As you called out for Rose, a sudden hush fell over the room, broken only by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up, hoping to see Rose's familiar figure, but instead, your eyes met the last person you expected to see: Rafe.

His presence was jarring, like a thunderclap on a clear day. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of his unexpected appearance. But before you could utter a word, Rafe's murmur cut through the silence like a knife.

"Nah, not Rose," he said with a smile.

Fear took hold of you as you realized that he must have had something to do with Rose's texts in the first place. You stepped back, fear making your knees buckle.

"Where's Rose?" you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, as if shielding yourself from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he drawled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Don’t come near me,” you said firmly as Rafe rounded the kitchen island towards you. Immediately, you moved in the opposite direction away from him.

“I… I just… I needed to talk to you, like, a little bit. Is that okay?” he said, opening his hands to placate you.

“Did Rose actually text me?”

“She did,” Rafe soothed. “But then I, uh… I heard you’d be here tonight instead of Pat, and well… seeing you was more important to me than some game.” His eyes trailed over your face, studying your every reaction.

“Where’s Wheezie?”

“With Sarah.”

You shook your head, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Rafe have orchestrated this situation for you to be alone with him without any of the Camerons noticing? But as if he heard your thoughts, a sly smile curled his lips and he chuckled softly.

“I told Rose I’d watch over Wheeze so she could catch an early ferry,” Rafe explained, his hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures, connecting invisible dots as he spoke. “After Rose left I gave my ticket to Wheeze.”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Look, I know the last time I was a little… a little intense…”

“Intense!” You choked. You would have laughed if the whole thing wasn’t so heartbreaking.

“Yes, and I’m -- I'm really sorry about that, okay? I really am.”

"You tried to ra-”

"No! No, no, I would never..." Rafe rushed towards you and you immediately backed away. He froze mid-step as you cowered, his hands still raised in surrender. "I’m sorry things were confusing and it looked that way but I wasn't trying to hurt you. God, I- l’m-" Rafe sighed, deflated his hands landed on his hips, he looked away as he pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"You're sorry it looked that way?" you whispered your voice trembling. Rafe's words echoed in your mind while memories of that day in all its menacing glory flooded back. You looked at him flabbergasted.

"Rafe...you... you were kissing me-”

“I know but I-”

“And touching me--"

He breathed out a laugh "Come on, you know I was only-,"

“Without my consent, Rafe.”

He was silent with that and you hoped your words had finally sunk in, had finally made him understand how terrifying he was in that moment.

“Then you chased me. You chased me like some...” you couldn’t even finish the sentence. You didn’t know how to finish the sentence. You were so hurt and confused. That your friend could do something like that to you. “I don’t even know who you are. I- I don’t think I ever did,” you whispered.

Rafe's eyes landed on yours with that. His gaze was dark and intense, and for a moment, you thought you had gotten through to him because he nodded slowly. But then he let out a humourless chuckle, reminding you of the one he gave post-chase, and any hope of reaching him dissipated.

"You know, it’s funny ‘cause you say that...” Rafe said coldly, a hand gesturing to you as if trying to grasp his own thoughts “But you’re not entirely innocent in all of this, are you?”

“I don't-- I don't understand."

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, huh, Y/N?

"Raf—"

"What kind of mental shit you put me through? Nah, you don't. You don't think about that, do you?" he asked, his hands gesturing toward you as his eyes narrowed and he stared you down. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized the gravity of Rafe's words. It was as if he was confessing to a darker truth, a mental anguish that he had been helplessly consumed by, something unintentionally sparked within him by your actions.

"I have my dad on my back talking about legacies, our family business and preparing me for that shit meanwhile Sarah’s running around town doing god knows what with some loser fucking up our family name. I have real shit to deal with...” he gave out a bitter laugh his hand clutched to his chest as he confessed.

“But even with all of that all I can think about every minute of every fucking day, is you.” Rafe's voice was raw and anguished. His hand moved up to his ear as he slowly walked towards you.

"It's like you've crawled into my brain, you know? Like I’m under some fucking spell with your music and your voice and your-" His eyes trailed down your body just as his hand followed the motion, and you shuddered. He was consuming you with his gaze every sinful thought etched across his features.

"Nah, you made me do this…” he said bitterly, his jaw clenched tight.

“Rafe--”

“You did and now I'm the bad guy because I had a moment of weakness. But you know what? Fuck, it.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Fuck it, i’ll take responsibility for my part in this--”

“Rafe--”

“That’s what real men do, right? Take responsibility for their shit and I’m all about being accountable, so yeah, I kissed you.” He said nodding slowly. “But I’m not sorry.”

His words made you recoil, disbelief etched across your face as you stared at him.

“Yeah, you want me to pretend like I am. Act apologetic but I won’t. I'm not sorry and you should quit actin’ like you didn't enjoy it."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the weight of his accusation settling in your stomach. Stunned, you opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. A dry, humorless laugh left you instead. Rafe simply nodded slyly as he resumed his steps towards you, and as you stepped backwards, your back collided with the kitchen counter.

“That’s- that’s not true.”

“No?” he asked faux confused.

“It’s not- that’s not fair”

“Isn’t it?” he tutted.

"Rafe, listen to me," you whispered shakily, but he was already leaning in, his eyes dark and clouded.

"No. No, no, you listen.” he rasped, circling in and looking down on you, his lips pouted as he leaned into the shell of your ear, “You were moaning Y/N- No, don’t do that. Don’t shake your head, and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don't stand there and pretend this whole fucking thing is one-sided. You were moaning into my mouth… and you...you held on to me, yeah? I didn’t force you to do those things."

"Rafe--”

“That was all you princess. So you gotta ask yourself. What kinda girl are you to be into that, hm?” Rafe whispered as he leaned into you. “What kinda girl would moan like a whore when a guy manhandles her…”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t. I wanted you to stop Rafe and you-”

Rafe chuckled before you could even finish your sentence.

“Is that what was happening while you were kissing me back? Nah, see I know what your problem is. I know, I know, I know…” he repeated softly, as he gently rested his hands on your hips. “I know why you ran when deep down you wanted it.”

You opened your mouth to protest only for Rafe to push his body up against yours. The hard wall of his body renders you speechless. “We eye fucked each other for months,” he whispered, as he looked down at you. His eyes darted to your lips as he licked his own. “You wanted it.” He said coldly.

"But I get it. It was overwhelming... too much... too soon... hm?" he murmured as his nose grazed yours. "I should have approached you more patiently. I realize that now," he acknowledged with a slow nod. "I should have been gentle with you, and I had every intention to. But I -- I wanted you so bad that day that I couldn't think straight. I'm thinking straight now, though."

“Rafe...” you breathed out, your hands on his chest to push him away but not quite having the strength to do so. Rafe must have picked up on this because he leaned in, his lips close to yours.

“You keep saying my name but you’re not telling me to stop...” Rafe whispered as his fingers caressed your cheek. With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, and you willingly yielded. His caress made you sway, your mind growing hazy and confused. To regain your balance, you closed your eyes.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop, hm?” he whispered.

You could feel the electricity between you as Rafe leaned in, lips hovering over yours and you tilted your head up slightly, closing the distance, only to be met with nothing. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Rafe’s hooded ones a victorious smile creeping across his lips.

“Come on” Rafe whispered, and before you could protest Rafe laced his fingers in yours and gently tugged you towards the living room.

Seated at the piano, Rafe smoothly lifted the fallboard with ease.

"Play something for me," he husked, gesturing for you to take a seat beside him on the bench. You felt a flutter of nervousness as you perched yourself next to him, unsure of where to start. You couldn't comprehend how you had gone from rejecting his advances to this moment of willing compliance and acceptance.

Rafe watched you intently. You had been up-close to Rafe before, but never this close. Not this intimately. Your mind became blank, overwhelmed with the prospect of playing for him.

"I...I don't know what to..." you stuttered.

"Anything, anything at all," Rafe whispered, his eyes studying your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your trembling fingers on the keys and began to release the notes, slowly at first, but gaining confidence with every passing moment.

“I noticed you, you know,” Rafe rasped. His knuckles suddenly grazed your cheek, and you flinched. “The first time you came to babysit Wheeze, I noticed you.” Rafe followed his knuckles as he moved them across your jaw.

“I remember thinking you were beautiful… shy… innocent…” Opening his hand, his fingers trailed down your neck, and your breath hitched.

“You were wearing this exact sweater…” His fingers splayed over your collarbone as they moved slowly down to your chest.

“What are you hiding under here, hm?” he asked softly. “What are you hiding under these baggy clothes?”

You shied away from his touch, your hands withdrawing from the keys of the piano.

"No. None of that. I’ll tell you when to stop,” he said his voice stern yet soft. Your eyes glanced at his as Rafe inched closer. “I’ll tell you when to stop.” he iterated slowly. “Start again.”

Swallowing you placed your hands on the keys while the music resumed from your fingertips.

Rafe shifted closer his leg flushed against your own. He wrapped his arm over the back of you and hooked it to the other side of the bench. Leaning in, his nose ghosted your neck.

“Raf-”

“Shhhh…”His nose nudged into your hairline. His other hand on your chest continued its exploration. It moved lower cupping your tit over your sweater. The gasp you make made Rafe breathe even heavier, a deep pur coming from the back of his throat.

“Please-” you whispered shakily.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you, you know that? Every time you played I’d think about what you’d feel like... what you’d look like, moaning for me. I wanna hear you moan for me.”

Determined Rafe’s hand moved lower until it dipped under your sweater. Deftly he fumbled under your t-shirt and you gasped when his warm fingers brushed the skin of your stomach. His other hand let go of the piano stool and was now under your sweater squeezing your tit through your bra.

“Rafe--”

“Keep playing” he whispered against your neck and you did. His hand at your stomach moved lower, finding the button on your jeans he unbutton it with one deft move and your hands falter.

“Keep playing” he murmured, face nudging into your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your throat. “I wanna hear you play while I touch you”

The sensation of Rafe's hands on your body was almost lost in the overwhelming numbness that had taken over you. His strong hand leisurely tugged at the waistband of your panties seeking to touch what lay beneath, while his other hand snaked under your bra. He caressed and teased your nipple until a soft sob erupted from you as pleasure surged through your veins.

Rafe moved his hand lower, slipping it between your wet folds and pushing his middle finger inside of you. You cried out, the intensity of sensation causing you to clutch onto Rafe's arm for support, music abandoned.

“It’s okay “ Rafe breathed deeply into your neck, as he roughly peppered your neck with kisses. “You're okay. Just breathe...” and as he said those comforting words he gently wormed another slender finger passed your slippery folds and into you.

You hissed, trying to move away from the burning stretch of his long fingers. Your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist with enough force to draw blood but Rafe determined as ever slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, each time inserting them a little deeper until it reached his signet ring.

"You've had more than one finger before?" he asked hotly against your neck. You shook your head no, gritting your teeth in an effort to endure him stretching you further still. Rafe groaned and nipped softly at your jawline, "Fuck, I can tell. I can barely move them. But you're a good girl, aren't you? You're taking them well and afterwards, I'm gonna train you to take all of me."

Rafe's lips trailed tender kisses down the length of your neck, then his mouth closed hungrily around the sensitive skin. His two fingers moved inside you and each slow thrust drew a soft moan from your lips.

With surety, he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, barely grazing your clit with his thumb. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, causing you to gasp and cum embarrassingly fast. Your pussy contracting around his fingers, milking them for all they were worth.

“Oh Fuuckk…” Rafe hissed. “You liked that, I can feel it.“ He sighed utterly mesmerised. “Well, if you like that...” Rafe groaned resting his forehead against the side of your face and planting soft kisses on your cheek. “You’re gonna love this.”

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Rafe's probing fingers started their relentless hunt for something deep within you. Suddenly, those searching digits found what they were looking for - a spot that caused you to arch over and clutch his hand as you cried out despite your best efforts.

“Oh- there it is” he chuckled softly, shunting his hand and hitting that spot over and over again with a speed and force that knocked the breath out of you, while his thumb expertly rubbed your clit and the fingers of his other hand mercilessly pulled and twisted your nipple.

“OhmyGOD!” you cried.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck my hand. Just like that.”

Rafe kept at it, even as your nails scraped along his wrist and arm for purchase. Even as you screamed and tried to scissor your legs closed to shut him out. None of it mattered as your eyes crossed and you felt your orgasm raw and violent crash over you.

Bucking violently into Rafe’s hand, you could feel your release seep through your jeans and onto the piano bench. Pooling and overflowing you could hear it trickle onto the hardwood floor like raindrops and still, Rafe kept going, kept finger fucking you.

Lost in a sea of agonising pleasure you could do nothing but slump against him and take it, your hips stuttering, your mouth sagging as you whimpered and gasped.

Rafe moaned against you, planting soft kisses on the column of your throat. He stilled his hand, his fingers buried deep inside while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

"Seems my fingers are just as talented as yours, hm?" he said with a breathless chuckle. His nose trailed along your neck, while his tongue darted out to capture the perspiration nestled there.

Gently, Rafe removed his digits while you gazed in shock, unable to voice a single word as he brought the wet fingers to his lips and ravenously lapped up your fluids with a contented hum.

“It’s too much.” you said hoarsely “I can’t-- I can't do this. No more, Rafe. No more,” you said weakly, trying to remove his hand from your breast and move away from his hold only for Rafe to seize your wrist painfully in his grasp.

"No more?" Rafe chuckled darkly, his gaze fixed on you with dilated pupils. "No more?" he repeated, inching closer as he shook his head. "Nah, baby. No. We're just getting started..."

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Thank you for reading. Thanks for liking and reblogging. PART 2 / MASTERLIST

#rafe cameron x you #rafe x reader #dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron imagine #rafe x you #rafe fic #outer banks fanfiction #rafe obx #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe #obx #obx rafe cameron #selfreblog #timezone reblog

2K notes · View notes

rottenrosethorns · 1 year

Note

Hi! Saw that your request is open and jump straight in to request lol.

Can you make a Leon x reader fluff, where Leon is this big tuff government agent (which he is) who is respected and look up to by people around him. But around reader he's just this big puppy who loves to cuddle and be in her arms, and he's so whiny whenever the reader needs to get up to go to the bathroom that he'll just wait for her outside the bathroom, once she gets out, he just scoops her back into his arms and off to cuddling session they go~ Can be any Leon you want!

Pairing: ID!Leon Kennedy x gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Synopsis: Tough government agent by day, soft puppy boy by night. Leon recounts the highlights of his week spent with you.

Word Count: 3.2K

Warnings: None! :)

A/N: i just love a good puppy boy yum. now, obvi RE2 takes the cake for soft boy, but in my head, i dream of old leon being the biggest baby, like he has so much trauma, let me be your therapist – hope you like this anon! <3

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- masterlist -

_________

Saturday & Sunday –

Leon adored the weekends. He got to spend all his time with you after all. He loved leaving work as early as possible to pick you up from your work, taking you out for a nice dinner, and maybe watching a movie or TV show afterwards. He loved staying up as late as possible, hoping that the sun never rose so that he could relish being in your comfort under the heaps of blankets because you always complained about being cold. Eventually, the stress of work and lack of sleep would forcibly pull him into slumber as he snuggled closer into your body. When he woke up to the sounds of the birds chirping and the morning sun rays peeking through the crevices of the curtains, Leon sinked into the mattress, holding you as close as possible. You were a heavy sleeper, so he often took advantage of that to kiss your temple and get up to make you breakfast.

Leon was such a giver, loving that he could be a caretaker for you. While he was gone at work, you were always the one to take care of things at home and make sure he had a clean space to relax and recharge. So, he’d always repay you for being the one to service you on the weekends. He knew your favorites, likes, and dislikes. And, even if he wasn’t the perfect cook, he still knew how to make up for it with weekly flowers delivered to the house. After breakfast, he’d be with you wherever you stepped.

You like reading in the den? He’d sit next to you while he answers emails and finishes reports, hating that your eyes were following words and not on him.

You like gardening outside? He’d start working out outside with his shirt off, definitely making sure to distract you and hating that you smiled more at the flowers than at him.

You like going out to brunch with your friends? He’d drive you to and from the restaurant, pretending to leave after kissing you goodbye and wishing you to have fun before sneaking back to sit at a reserved table.

He couldn't spend a second without you. So, that’s why he always hated the work week, because for forty hours, he had to resist quitting his career to be in your arms. And unfortunately, tomorrow was Monday.

…..

Monday –

Leon already started off the week to a bad start. Somehow, he’d forgotten to take the lunch you always packed him to work and he didn’t have enough time to drive back and grab it. It wasn’t that he minded skipping lunch – he missed many meals from harsh mission conditions already – or was incapable of buying his own lunch from a nearby food chain, it’s just that he was upset that he would be missing out on your little sticky notes you accompanied with each lunch. From when you started dating, you made it a habit to sneak in notes of affection and motivation to cheer him up throughout the day. He even made an effort to save all your sticky notes in the corner of his desk drawer with his favorite ones displayed on the edge of his monitor or overlapping on pictures frames of you propped up on the corner of his desk.

“Mr. Kennedy?”

“What do you want?” Leon all but glared at the assistant, standing near the door. She’d been a new addition to the team, meaning she was trying her chance to catch his eye. Arguably, Leon enjoyed the attention during his rookie days, using his looks for his career’s advantage; however, nowadays with you in his life, Leon treated every woman with a cold shoulder and a sneer. Unfortunately, some women were into cold and sneering men.

The assistant fluttered her eyes, pushing her chest out as if she had a spinal injury, “There’s some here to see you.”

Thinking that she was talking about herself, Leon grit his teeth in annoyance, “Get the fuck out of my office.”

“Leon!” You unexpectedly appeared through the door of his office with a disappointed frown, “That was so rude, apologize to her now.”

Leon’s jaw slacked in surprise, not expecting you to show up at his workplace. He stumbled out of his chair, quickly making it over towards you to give you a kiss only to meet the side of your face instead of your lips. Leon pouted from you avoiding his kiss. You gave him a glare, eyes flickering towards the assistant. Internally groaning, Leon knew he didn’t have a choice as you were the most stubborn person he’s met. But he was a pleaser – he was your pleaser – so he’d do anything you ask him to.

Turning towards the assistant, Leon begrudgingly muttered an apology, “I shouldn’t have sworn at you. That’s my fault.”

Although he didn’t mean it, Leon looked at the assistant with harsh eyes. From his height, you couldn’t see his disingenuous expression and gullibly believed in his fake act of remorse. His glare hardened, a warning for the assistant to leave before he kicked her out physically. Leon would never put his hands on a woman, but if they were threatening his lover, then all those morals went out the window. Getting the hint, the assistant finally made the move to leave, but not fast enough for Leon to grab you in his arms and essentially make out with you in front of her.

You pulled back from the kiss with a blush, “Leon!”

Leon smirked, loving to see the flush on your face and being the reason for it, “I missed you.”

“You saw me this morning,” You rolled your eyes at Leon’s dramatics.

“So?” Leon snuggled into you closer, sniffing you as if your scent was home to him, “What are you doing here? Don’t you have work?”

Leon heard some rustling and looked to see his forgotten lunch bag in your hand, “Hungry?”

Leon nodded like a puppy with a wide smile on his face before guiding you to sit on his office chair while he sat on his desk. He happily waited as you unpacked everything on his desk and advised him which foods to start with. And, although he didn’t receive a note that day, your presence made up for it.

…..

Tuesday –

“Conference is ready for Eagle, I repeat, Conference is ready for Eagle.”

Leon raised his cuff towards his mouth, “Copy that.”

Leon buttoned his suit jacket, securing his pistol, and gestured one arm towards the Oval Office’s door, “Mr. President, we’re ready for you.”

Leon received a curt nod before leading him out the Oval Office and towards the press room. Like routine clockwork, his eyes were constantly scanning for danger. Even though they were only moving from one end of the White House towards the other, Leon was never too careful. Once at the doors of the press room, Leon held the door with one hand while the other went back up near his mouth, “Eagle’s entering the press room.”

When he received the green light, Leon pushed open the door and followed the President towards the stage. Again, he scanned the room, looking for any suspicious activity or possible threats. Just as he made his way towards the edge of the stage where he was usually stationed during these boring politically vague press conferences, his eyes happened to catch a familiar figure, causing him to stumble over his feet and loudly crash into the American flag flagpole. The noise caused each reporter to inspect the situation as they watched Leon fumble. With quick reflexes, Leon caught the pole before it fell over and placed it back upright before awkwardly shuffling towards his post. Normally, Leon wouldn’t have made such a mistake, but the sight of you sitting with the audience of reporters caught him off guard. How could he forget that you worked in a very reputable news station?

Leon avoided everyone’s lingering stares, pretending that what just happened didn’t happen. Well, everyone’s but yours. Once he met your twinkling eyes, your face broke out into the most adorable smile as you tried to hide it behind your notepad and suppress your giggles. Leon let out a barely audible chuckle as his face flushed. You were the only one that could have him feeling embarrassed. But technically, this was your fault, because you looked too good for him not to stare at you the whole time. If any of his colleagues was watching his view, they’d definitely think you were some sort of threat waiting to take their chance.

Normally, Leon couldn’t wait for these conferences to be over. But now, he found this one particularly excruciating. The whole time he kept wondering how the hell he was supposed to control himself when you were in work mode. Just the way you asked the most intelligent questions, being so focused when writing your notes, and the way you brushed your hair out of your face whenever it fell into your vision sent him into a state of blissful insanity. The things he’d do to just leave his post and jump into your arms was unthinkable. But he had a job to do, and he was the best at it. Plus, he wanted to show off how cool and handsome he was while on the job.

“Thank you. We’ll be taking no more questions at this moment.”

Leon snapped out of his daze, moving to escort the president off the stage. Turning towards a secret service member, Leon gave the orders to guide the president back to his next destination before breaking away and practically skipping towards you.

“Nice fall there, Romeo,” You teased, can’t help but giggled as you recanted the fresh memory.

Leon scratched his head with a crooked smile, “I saw the most beautiful person in my life.”

You shook your head giggling before giving him a quick kiss, not wanting to get him in trouble at work. Leon excitedly accepted your kiss, smile widening even more as his lips tingled.

“Kennedy! Debrief!”

Leon looked over to see his colleague waving him down from across the room. Instantaneously, his stoic expression returned as he gave a quick nod of acknowledgement. Once out of sight, his features soften, looking at you apologetically, “Gotta go, I’ll see you later. Love you!”

It took him almost a minute to actually say goodbye and leave you, but the skip in his step made up for his tardiness.

…..

Wednesday –

Leon was starting to get tired of these meetings. His job was to fight bioweapons, did he really need to sit in the geeky science side of things? If there’s a monster, kill it. Easy.

He sighed, as his eyes bore into the papers, yet not reading any of the content written on them. Every word said by the scientists and researchers went in one ear and right out the other as they continued through the robust slideshow. Didn’t he skip college for this exact reason?

Just as they were about to continue towards the next slide, Leon’s phone rang, interrupting everyone from their concentration. Usually, Leon would apologize for forgetting to silence his phone, but seeing your caller ID flash on his screen had him running outside the meeting room as the group decided to call for an intermission.

Picking up, Leon piped up, “Hello?”

“Is it a bad time?”

Leon looked back to the meeting room without a care, “Nope, wasn’t doing anything important, what’s up?”

“I was just going to ask what you wanted to eat for dinner for Friday’s movie night. Do you want to order in or make something ourselves?”

“What’s wrong with both?” Leon chuckled.

“That’s too much!” You laughed.

Leon smiled, loving the sound of your laughter and being the one that made you laugh, “Okay, okay, let’s get something easy to make. We’ve got some other shopping to do too.”

“Perfect, we’ll go tomorrow, okay? Come home early.”

You didn’t have to tell him twice, “I’ll be there.”

“Okay, I gotta go now. I love you!”

“I love you too,” Leon kissed into the phone before hanging up.

He was about to turn around and head back to the presentation room before being face to face with the Redfield siblings. Chris raised his brow while Claire did her best to hide her snickering behind her hand. Leon’s stoic persona returned, pushing past them as he muttered, “Shut up.”

…..

Thursday –

“Salsa”

“Check.”

“Chips?”

“Check.”

“Anything else?”

“Sour cream,” Leon read the grocery list, “That should be it.”

You nodded, heading towards the condiments aisle, “Right, can’t forget the sour cream.”

Finding the location, you were about to ask Leon for help as the bottle you wanted was placed on the top shelf, but Leon was quick to understand and had already reached up and placed the bottle in the cart. You smiled and attempted to pat his head, “Thank you! Ready to go?”

If Leon had a tail, it would be wagging faster than a boat propeller. Leon perked up at the praise, basking in the good words you had for him. He could never get over how well you treated him and he lived to impress you everytime. Just as he went to answer, a certain sibling duo appeared again. Was this his bad luck?

Once you saw Claire, you immediately rushed over and enveloped her into a hug and gushed about where she’s been and what she’s been up to. Knowing you well, Leon knew it’d a while before you realized you’d been talking for a bit too long. Chris seemed to know this too as he went over to Leon and struck up some small talk. He looked in your cart, analyzing the collected ingredients, “Taco night?”

Leon let out a gruff noise with a scowl on his face to indicate that Chris guessed correctly. Leon crossed his arms, impatiently waiting for you to finish so that you both could go home and cuddle on the couch together.

Chris scoffed, “You don’t have to hide that you love them, you know? It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’re head over heels for them already.”

Leon pressed his lips together, “I’m not hiding anything.”

“You’re not?” Chris pressed, “So, yesterday, on that phone call, you did send a kiss through the phone, right?”

Leon met Chris’s eyes with a glare, not willing to admit he’d ever do such a thing. Although it was the truth and it would’ve hurt his pride to admit, Leon hated denying it in case it made you sad, so he chose to use silence as his answer. Chris found this particularly amusing as he laughed, “It’s okay to have feelings, you know? In this field of work, it’s nice to have someone – someone human – to remind us that we have lives outside of the virus.”

Leon’s tough demeanor slightly cracked as he watched you laugh and joke with Claire. He hated to admit, but Chris was right. You were his everything. You made all the bad memories and nightmares go away. You reminded him that he’s just a guy trying to live a normal life. And, he’d do anything to keep you in his arms forever.

Without thinking, Leon admitted, “I love them.”

Chris smiled in triumph, “You look good together.”

Just as the men finished their chat, you looked over at Leon to which Leon softened his expression to meet your gaze, “Hey, you won’t mind if Chris and Claire come over tonight, right? They can even stay over if they want! Come on, let’s go!”

Even if he wanted to, Leon couldn’t bring himself to argue with you. Sure, he wanted you for himself tonight, but he couldn’t ever say no to you. Thus, you collectively left the grocery store with Leon grumbling in tow as Chris snickered at his demise.

…..

Friday –

Fridays, oh Fridays. They were Leon’s favorite day of the week. It was the majority of the population's favorite day of the week actually. But, Leon’s reason wasn’t mundane like getting off work early to celebrate the weekend or other adjacent reasons. His reason was because he was to come home to you and destress the woes of the week in your arms. He didn’t care what movie or TV show was playing, he just wanted to bury himself deep into your neck and press loving kisses as if he was thanking you for your existence. Even though your focus was solely on the drama of the cinema, Leon was just happy to be included. That’s all that he needed. You were all that he needed.

“I gotta use the bathroom,” You started to untangle yourself from Leon’s hold, “You can keep watching though.”

Leon mewled in protest. He didn’t even know what was playing anyways, so it didn’t matter to him. The hold on you shifted, so that Leon was encircling your waist and holding your body flush against his. He buried his face into your chest and his muffled, “Don’t go.”

You patted his head, brushing your fingers through his hair as you cooed at him, “I’ll be back in a bit, okay? Keep the blankets warm for me?”

Leon pouted, squeezing you one more time before reluctantly letting you go – extra emphasis on the reluctant part. Leon was basically an octopus suction cupping you on him as you struggled to get out of his hold. Once you were finally freed, you huffed before sending him off with a quick kiss and running towards the bathroom. Leon laid on the couch, lifeless. He didn’t know what to do without you. He tried to tune into the TV, but his lack of attention to plot confused him on the premise of whatever was playing. He laid back with his hand on his stomach, fiddling his fingers as he stared at the ceiling. He shifted his body left and right, suddenly feeling like the couch was made of concrete and blankets knitted with the itchiest yarn known to man.

Annoyed, Leon decided to abandon the couch and shuffle his way towards the bathroom and paced outside as he waited for you to finish. Thankfully, you weren’t that long before you unlocked the door and stepped out. You hadn’t gotten far before Leon scooped you up in his arms and swiftly took you back to the couch and buried your bodies in the mountain of pillows and blankets. Only now did he feel comfortable, like sleeping on clouds.

You giggled, taking his face in your hand and holding him to look at you. Leon’s eyes widened, waiting for you to say what you wanted to. You booped his nose, “Were you waiting outside for me?”

Leon pursed his lips like he was asking for a kiss. You shook your head, not willing to kiss him until he gave you an answer. Once realizing this, Leon’s lips turned into a pout, “I missed you.”

You giggled, pressing a rewarding kiss to which he passionately accepted, “You’re so cute.”

Leon snuggled back into you as your fingers entangled themselves back into his hair, “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

#leon kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon kennedy oneshot #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy oneshot #leon kennedy fic #leon s kennedy fanfiction #leon s kennedy x you #leon kennedy x you #resident evil x you #resident evil fanfiction #leon kennedy fluff #leon s kennedy fluff #resident evil fluff

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stvrni0lo · 8 months

Text

𝐢 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 𝐢 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: reader is secretly messaging someone, and matt gets jealous

warnings/notes: mentions of jealousy, happy ending

requested?: yes! number 17 “accidental confession” and number 24 “A not realizing they’re jealous” from my actions prompt list @markiplierbaby

also requested by others ↴

- boy bsf matt getting jealous over someone reader is talking to so he starts to act all possessive and touchy

> > >

You had known Matt for years now. He was your best friend and confidant, always offering his support whenever you needed it. Matt never judged you or questioned your life choices (unless, of course, they were bad choices… in which case he would tell you to get a grip).

All in all, you two were always together. Either he would come over with Nick and Chris or you would visit them for a full-day sleepover. Most days you would do something fun but there was obviously the occasional staying in and doing nothing.

This leads us to where you were currently. Sat on the couch, with your phone in hand as you giggled at a text notification that popped up.

Matt, ever curious, tilted his head to you, dropping his own mobile onto his lap. He eyed your body language, noticing the lingering grin on your face as you typed away.

“What’s funny?” he asked, an unusual feeling bubbling in his chest.

Turning your head to him briefly, you opened and closed your mouth, unsure of what to say. For some reason you were hesitant to tell him of the person you had been texting these past few days. Why were you so nervous? It’s not like he would care, right?

“Oh, just a friend… said something funny,” you finished, your heart thumping faster than you would care to admit.

Matt’s demeanor fell slightly. His shoulders slumped against the couch defeatedly. Once he noticed your lack of attention towards him, he resumed his trek through TikTok.

He couldn’t understand why his blood boiled every time you let out a snort, or a laugh. Your beautiful smile that graced your face every time a new message came through - why did that make him feel sick with worry? Matt couldn’t help but look up at you every now and again, his stomach twisting into knots more and more each time he did so.

What could be so funny? It’s not like he hasn’t made you laugh like that before, so why was it so bad when this other person was doing it?

Hating that he was being a pouty and complaining to himself, he decided to get himself up off the couch. He looked back to you before speaking.

“Do you wanna do something today? Like, instead of sitting and doing… whatever it is you’re doing,” he added the last part a bit passive aggressively.

He didn’t mean to be mad. He just couldn’t help it. What was so private that you couldn’t disclose it to him? And why did he care so much? Matt knew he was being silly, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of dread every time he saw your eyes light up at your screen. Maybe a nice day out with you would help get his mind off of it.

You pondered for a few minutes before nodding. “Yeah, sure. What did you have in mind?”

- - -

The drive to the cinema was short. Matt said he wanted to watch a new movie that had come out, insisting that he buy the tickets online before you got there. He had a habit of always paying for you - and you wouldn’t have minded if he at least let you do the same from time to time. But he never did.

“So… who’s got you all giggly today?” he asked. It was slightly out of curiosity, but mostly out of discomfort of not knowing who it was.

“Oh! It was a friend of Madi’s. I met them a couple days ago when I went to her house.”

You said it matter-of-factly. How were you to know that Matt had ulterior motives asking this? How were you to know that as soon as you got out of the car, Matt would shoot Madi a text to ask who the friend was?

Matt held the door open for you as you reached the entrance to the theater. He showed the usher your tickets before making his way with you to the screen.

You realized you needed to pee before going in. There was still 20 minutes left, so you decided you’d go now before it was too late. “Hey,” you called to Matt.

He stopped to look at you, his eyebrows arching. It was as if he was waiting for you to say something. Something in particular, to which his shoulders dropped when you didn’t.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick.”

“Okay, yeah.”

As you walked to the bathroom, the last thing Matt was expecting was for you to return with someone else, your laugh echoing throughout the building.

Your head leaned into the person next to you, your smile as big as ever.

Running up to Matt, you stood beside him to introduce the newbie. “Matt! This is who I was telling you about,” you said, your grin growing as he shook hands with them.

“Ah,” he said, forcing a smile. He felt bad, but he really did not want to meet this person. This person that seemed to steal your heart and - why did he care?

Matt instinctively moved closer to you, his shoulder resting against yours. He was seeking comfort - reassurance. But he didn’t know why. You were his friend, he should be happy for you.

The conversation that buzzed through the air seemed to go in one ear and out the other. His responses were automated, nothing besides a “yeah”, “oh cool” or strained laughter could be heard from him.

At some point, it felt as if something possessed him, and he involuntarily wrapped his arm around your shoulder. It wasn’t a shock to you, really. He was occasionally touchy with you - I mean you guys were as close as could be. Yet you had noticed how weird he was acting, so you knew this sudden affection wasn’t coming from a friendly perspective. You knew he wasn’t feeling well.

“Sorry to cut this short but we really do have a movie to see. It was nice meeting you,” Matt said curtly.

It wasn’t a lie. The movie did start in 10 minutes. But really, he just wanted to have you to himself right now.

Matt moved to grab your hand now, pulling you away and towards the double doors. Your friend had already left, so you decided you’d question Matt before entering.

Planting your feet on the ground, you interlocked your fingers to his, bringing him back. “Matt,” you sing-songed.

“Matt,” you said again, more stern this time. He fell backwards, hesitantly facing you now. There was an almost embarrassed look on his face.

“Something’s up with you,” you pointed out.

“Really?” he responded, his eyes landing on your interlocked fingers.

You sighed, taking a step closer. “Matt,” you said for the third time. Each time you said his name, it sounded like honey dripping from your tongue. It made his heart race. His palms were sweating, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

“Yeah. You’re right, I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “I don’t really know.”

He sounded exasperated, his sighs were deep, and his eyes looked confused. Confused on what he was really even feeling.

“I just think that maybe I don’t really like your friend,” he said quickly, worried that he’d upset you.

You cocked your head to the side. “How come?”

“They’re not that funny,” he said, pouting. “And they were texting you too much. I could barely even have a conversation with you this morning.”

You almost got whiplash with how fast you jerked your head backwards. To say you were confused would be an understatement. “They were… texting me too much?” you asked in disbelief.

Matt’s cheeks burned under your intense gaze. “Matt, I don’t understand.”

He shook his head, groaning. He let go of your hand to rub his face in frustration. “Me neither! But every time you smiled at them I got so annoyed and - and I think maybe I just don’t like your new friend.”

Suddenly, a wave of laughter washed over you. Matthew Sturniolo was jealous. And he was none the wiser. Taking deep breaths in between your giggles, you wiped a few stray tears away. Matt looked at you like a lost puppy, his eyes following your every movement.

“What?” he asked, his fingers messing with the rings on his hands.

“It’s not funny!” but the smile on his face said otherwise. He couldn’t help it, seeing you happy always made him happy. “C’mon, what are you laughing at?”

You held onto his shoulder for support. “You are so clueless.”

His eyes widened at your statement. Suddenly his cheeks flushed again and he opened his mouth to say something, but ultimately decided not to. What was he clueless about?

Shaking your head at how oblivious he was, you finally just told him. “Matt, you’re jealous.”

“I- what?”

You smiled at him, pecking his cheek in the process. “Well there’s nothing to be jealous of. They really are just a friend.”

His skin buzzed at the contact of your lips on his skin. He wished that you did it more often.

Matt blinked at you a few times. Could it be? He knew he found you beautiful, and funny. He knew that sometimes he imagined cuddling with you on a stormy night - but he never thought too deep into it.

Jesus, you were right. He was clueless. And it took him this long to realize that he liked you.

He felt like an idiot.

“Let’s go, Matty. We really do have a movie to see,” you mocked the last part. Grabbing his hand in yours once more, you lead him to the movie screen.

You looked back at him briefly, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand.

“Maybe after this we can go get dinner?”

Turning your back to him, you kept walking, missing the dopey smile on his face as he stared at your hands yet again. It must’ve been the millionth time that he blushed today, his face feeling like it was in a constant state of unnaturally heating up.

He wishes he knew he liked you before. Then maybe this date could’ve come faster.

- - - - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@dwntwn-strnlo

@st4rgzer

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@sunshinewwx

@gwenlore

@gabbylovesreading

@ssturniolo

@opheliaofficial07

@stargirlv0id

@mxqdii

@slaysturniolo

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo imagine #sturniolo triplets x reader #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo x reader #the sturniolo triplets #the sturniolos #stvrni0lo

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radioisntdead · 2 months

Note

AHAHHAHAHSHSHHD I HAVE A REQUESTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT IF YOU DON'T MIND BUT CAN YOU DO A HUSBAND ALASTOR X CRYBABY READER

Good evening my dear! Indeed I can!

I'm on a songfic fix at the moment so hopefully you don't mind me turning this into one, if you do just let me know and I can write a proper oneshot, drabble or headcanons

Crybaby

Warnings:

Murder, Alastor being weird, mild angst, OOC, the ending is a bit muddled because lack of motivation hit me like a TRUCK.

The song I chose for obvious reasons

You seem to replace your brain with your heart, You take things so hard and then you fall apart

You always had what one would call a bleeding heart, tears would overflow at the slightest instance, you fell onto the ground? Tears, you saw a rabbit munching on a carrot? Tears fell because it was just SO cute, you sobbed as you stabbed a guy to death, blubbering out apologies saying you wouldn't have to do it if he had JUST kept his mouth shut and didn't say those awful, awful things.

You try to explain, but before you can start

You met Alastor when the two of you were alive, he was an aspiring radio host at the time and well, your father ran a rather popular radio station.

Those "Cry baby" tears come out of the dark

You were considered the favorite child, (or the only child depending on the route you go) and Alastor knew that, he wasn't above using people to climb up the social ladder.

Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes

Everything was planned out, like how the two of you met, he found out what places you frequented, choosing a cafe to be the place to run into you.

You had accidentally poured warm coffee on his clothes, you cried out apologies as you patted him dry with napkins, offering to pay for drycleaning.

You pour it out where everyone can see

And that was it, it started with him charming you, asking you out for coffee, lunch, dinners and eventually he had you hooked.

Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside

Him eventually catching feelings for you was just the icing on the cake, a bonus, you and him felt similarly to certain affections.

His mother quite liked you as well asking him to bring you by again when you met her the first time.

You pour it out where everyone can see

As the relationship grew, he became a prominent radio personality, eventually proposing to you leading to marriage.

They call you cry baby, cry baby

Alastor was supposed to be working late that night, you weren't expecting him to come home as you washed the blood off of your hands, blood stained the bathroom sink, dried tears leaving faint streaks on your face.

But you don't fucking care

"Mon étoile?"

You slowly turned around as if you were in a horror movie, the one person you didn't want to see you like this.

Cry baby, cry baby

You burst into tears falling onto the ground, not even trying to explain yourself, Alastor grinned and moved next to you, gently wiping away your tears taking silent joy from them.

So you laugh through your tears

You laughed as Alastor gave a light smooch onto your face.

Cry baby, cry baby

And that begun a new era of your relationship,

You'd act as bait luring in the folks you and Alastor felt like taking away their living privileges.

'Cause you don't fucking care

You lived like that for years, taking many lives, shedding many tears, a killer couple.

Tears fall to the ground

Unfortunately all good things come to an end.

You'll just let them drown

Alastor went to dispose of a body while you cleaned up the aftermath.

You'll just let them drown

The police showing up and breaking the news to you that your dearest Alastor was shot in the head and attacked by dogs shattered you.

Cry baby, cry baby

You spent your days crying, barely being able to organize a funeral that no one other then you attended, after all who would attend the funeral of a murderer.

You're all on your own and you lost all your friends

You were alone now, sure your family urged you to move back home, you were still a sweetheart with a bleeding heart to them, you just fell for Alastor's schemes, that no one saw coming.

You spent your days crying, clinging on to any remnants of Alastor, your social life took a huge hit.

You told yourself that it's not you, it's them

They whispered behind your back, theorizing if you were apart of the murders or not, if you knew, if you were truly innocent.

You're one of a kind and no one understands

You were found dead in your home, alone.

But those "Cry baby" tears keep coming back again

You woke up in hell, you knew you probably weren't going to heaven but still!

Someone's turning the handle to that faucet in your eyes

Tears swelled up in your eyes but you wiped them away before they could fall deciding to look around and assess your situation.

You pour it out where everyone can see

Wandering around you passed by a shop with a radio present in it, reminding you of your dear Alastor.

Your heart's too big for your body, it's why it won't fit inside

The tears started pouring, and before you could do anything else, someone touches your shoulder.

You pour it out where everyone can see

You've been down below for who knew how long now, bring found by Mimzy of all people, a good friend of yours, and Alastor's.

They call you cry baby, cry baby

Mimzy showed up at Alastor's home banging on the front door, you stood a few feet away from her, He opened it displeased at the sudden visit but he smiled wide nonetheless.

"Mimzy dear, pray tell why you are banging on my door at this unholy hour?" He asked, simply hearing his voice the waterworks began as Mimzy pulled you out from where you stood.

But you don't fucking care

Alastor's eyes ever so slightly widened, it hadn't been that long since he died, he suspected you would follow suit eventually but not this quickly.

Cry baby, cry baby

"I believe this one is yours, they've been crying on and off, it's driving me crazy" Mimzy said shoving you into Alastor as you grinned up at him through blurry eyes

So you laugh through your tears

"I missed you." You said as Alastor touched your face, brushing a claw over it, you, much like him and every other sinner looked different from when you were alive, you had permanent gold tear streaks stitched into your face, how ironic.

Cry baby, cry baby

Alastor simply grinned, wiping away a tear.

"You haven't changed a bit, Mon étoile."

'Cause you don't fucking care

"You can pay me back for reunitin' ya lovebirds later!"

Mimzy laughed before running off to do who knows what, making a swift exit for plot convenience.

Tears fall to the ground

And that was that, you were finally reunited.

You'll just let them drown

While Alastor was given the name of The Radio demon you were referred to as the Crying demon,

How original.

Cry baby, cry baby

While Alastor stuck fear with a smile, hearing you wail in the distance stuck fear into others, you'd apologize as you ripped sinners apart just like you did in life.

You'll just let them drown

You watched as Alastor developed a cannibalistic taste for sinners, he opted to bring you sinner hearts as a token of affection,

You teared up from how sweet the extremely messed up act was.

Cry baby, cry baby

You also watched as Alastor's personal hygiene got worse, to the point where you'd chase him down with a sponge and a bucket of water, or before bed with a toothbrush and some toothpaste.

Much to his chagrin he was never able to escape you chasing him.

You'll just let them drown

Alastor's more sadistic tendencies were revealed in full force, with him biting and pinching your cheeks just hard enough to make you cry.

It wasn't a deal breaker but it did weird you out at first.

I look at you and I see myself

Alastor brought you to the Hazbin hotel after Husk and Niffty were pulled from wherever,

You quickly gained an affection for the hotel and it's residents, Alastor may have been using the hotel for his own entertainment but you genuinely believed in Charlie's dream of redeeming sinners.

And I know you better than anyone else

Becoming another parental figure for the princess you showered her with advice and familial affection, saying if you had a child you'd want them to be just like her.

And I have the same faucet in my eyes

Vaggie wasn't spared from the parental affection either, Alastor might not have been fond of her but you were.

So your tears are mine

You eventually became like the hotels therapist, a very prone to crying therapist but a therapist none the less.

You and Charlie tended to cry together especially if the two of you decided to put a emotionally charged movie on for movie nights

They call me cry baby, cry baby

You cried when extermination day happened, taking out exorcists left and right, your tears were filled with anger as you witnessed what happened to Sir Pentious.

But I don't fucking care

You cried tears of joy when the hotel was rebuilt and when Alastor came back from wherever he was.

Cry baby, cry baby

"You are an complete and utter MORON,"

"Mon étoile, W̴̝̖͙̩̹̓͆̏͌̒̔̑͐̕h̶͔̲̄ă̵̟̥͙̥͖͚̋̍̓̓̇̕ţ̶̧͇̞̟͈͔͉̦͋̄͂̌́̉͗ ̸̛̟̖̰͛͐̂̌̃d̷͎͍̦̩̯̂̐̈́̒̇͜ͅï̷̙͎͙̱̲̾̓̓̂d̵̛̛̲̤̺̟͒̈́̽́̑̈́̈͜͠ ̴̬̥̱͓̊̒͛ȳ̶̢̢̛̛̘͓̱̱̭̩̣͈̈́̀͋͘͝ő̴͓̜̥̪͇͙͉̞̜ủ̴̢̖͙̞͈̳̈́̑̋̂̉̈ ̵̩̈́̋̂̾̓̎̌̕̚j̶̛̗̲͚͖̼̻̥͕̚ù̸̫̯̎s̷̛̹̠̠̰͇̬̟̤͖̃̋͋ť̵͇̹͕̞͌ ̵̢̹͖̯͆̀̽́̎̐̐̽̆̃c̴͍̼̤̓̉̃̒̕͠a̶͖̙̭͂͋̓l̸̢̧̨͙̯̹̯̱̳̏̈́̀l̷̡͖͉̟̼̳̹͙̏́̄̃͋ͅ ̶̧͓͍͑m̶̨̡̠̖͇̫͓̅̈́-̷̞̱̪͓̞̅̈́͊̇̎̐͝"

"Don't pull that radio demon bullshit with me right now Alastor! How hard was it to arm yourself? You aren't invincible to ANGELIC WEAPONS!"

You shouted at Alastor as you paced around your newly restored shared room, first aid kit open, bandages wrapped around, angry tears in your eyes.

If you were anyone else, you would be dead for rubbing salt into the still aching wound.

Alastor sighed and swung one leg over the other, crossing his arms intending to wait until your 'temper tantrum' was over.

I laugh through my tears

Normally he rather liked your tears, in a Alastor way, but they were annoying to him in this instance.

Cry baby, cry baby

You grabbed his face, locking your eyes with his,

"You could've died, You would've left me again."

"Dearest,"

"Al,"

"I won't leave you again."

"Promise?"

You asked dropping your hands from his face only for him to hold them in his hands.

"Promise."

'Cause I don't fucking care, Tears fall to the ground

With the hotel rebuilt, bigger, more grand then before, sinners began to trickle in.

Wanting to give redemption a shot,

Some wanted to see someone they knew that more then likely ended up going above, some had nothing left to lose, some just wanted to change, hating what they've become since they fell below.

I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby

You quite liked how things were developing, seeing Charlie's face light up when hotel residents improved, getting clean from addiction, proving to be better.

I just let them drown, Cry baby, cry baby

Alastor originally got involved in this place for his own entertainment or otherwise, bringing you with him, he didn't think that his darling crybaby of a wife would get attached.

But maybe he was getting attached too, not that he would ever admit it even to you.

You'll just let them drown, They call you cry baby, cry baby

You and Alastor sat comfortably on the couch in his radio tower, with you laying on his shoulder, his arm gingerly wrapped around you.

I just let them drown

"Al, look how cute they are!"

You said as you held your phone to Alastor, you had to remove a few qualities in order to keep the phone, you didn't mind since you mostly used it to communicate with the hotel residents or look at animal videos on the Internet anyways.

He simply hummed as he grimaced at the phone, you were trying to show him a group of hellborn kittens,

"We should get a cat,"

"We already have a cat."

"Husk doesn't count."

You said frowning as Alastor moved his hand to your cheek, pinching it until tears swelled up in your eyes.

Cry baby, cry baby

You were sobbing at the red creature you held in your arms,

"It's adorable!" You sobbed out holding the catlike creature that you found on the side of the road much to Alastor's displeasure you wanted a cat, and you got a cat thingy

"It looks like Alastor."

"Exactly!"

Alastor squinted at the cat thing you were crying with pride over, he would throw the damned thing out the window but unfortunately you were already attached, and he preferred you to cry over literally anything else other then the failed clone of his.

You'll just let them drown

Good evening folks! Thanks for tuning in! I scheduled this for Saturday so that should mean this is the last of the songfics! [For now anyways] [post-post edit, I LIED THERE WILL BE MORE SONG FICS THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING]

I wanted to go more into how Alastor would probably enjoy the readers crying but it got a little too weird.

Have a wonderful weekend folks!

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor imagine

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my-autism-adhd-blog · 10 months

Note

Hi there! First of all I just discovered your blog and it helped me understand a lot about autism. I was recently diagnosed and I had maaany questions, and going through your blog gave me some answers. So thank you so much for your dedication! ✨

I was wondering if you could share some stuff about burnouts? I saw the post of the signs of burnouts, but I was wondering if you had information about what are the common causes or how to deal with them?

Have a great day/night!

Hi there,

I found some information in burnout recovery and causes:

Text

Signs

* Lack of motivation (hard to care about goals when everyday life is overwhelming)

* Loss of executive functioning abilities (decision-making, organization, etc.)

* Difficulty with self-care

* Easier to reach overload or meltdown

* Loss of speech, selective mutism

* Lethargy, exhaustion

* Illness, digestive issues

* Memory loss

* Inability to maintain masks or use social skills

* Overall seeming "more autistic" or stereotypical

* May have period of high energy before collapse

causes

* Passing as neurotypical / suppressing autistic traits

* Doing 'too much', too much stress

* Aging: needing more downtime, having less energy

* Changes, good or bad (relationships, jobs, living arrangements, belongings, environment, routines...)

* Sleep deprivation, poor nutrition, dehydration

* Illness

* Sensory or emotional overload

strategies

* Time

* Scheduling breaks, managing spoons

* Leave of absence

* Stimming, sensory diet

* Exercise

* Reassured and supports

* Routines

* Better environment/job/etc.

* Boundaries, saying 'no'

* Dropping the mask/façade

* Solitude

* Absolute quiet

* Creative projects, passions, special interests

* Paying attention to reactions and your body

Here’s another Infograph I found:

Text

Sleep and rest as much as you can. We often need more sleep than allistics and it is especially crucial to meet our need for extra sleep while in burnout.

Reduce your energy expenditure. Within reason, reduce social time and the amount of information you are taking in on a daily basis. This often means saying no, even to things you think you

"want" to do. (ex. re-watch TV rather than start new shows)

Engage in special interests at a comfortable and sustainable level. Rather than doing in-depth research, try decorating your space with posters or objects related to your special interests or watching a TV show related to one of them.

Focus on your hypersensitivities. Use earplugs/ headphones/sunglasses, use dishwashing gloves and a mask while cleaning, wear comfortable clothes, eat safe foods, leave spaces that are too bright, loud, or fragrant.

Stim!! MOVEMENT: dance, rock, tap, flap, stretch, walk, stim toys.

TOUCH: soft fabric, self-massage, play with hair. VISUAL: watch

TV/ movie, kaleidoscope, coloring book, satisfying videos

AUDIO/VOICE music, singing, echolalia. REPETATION/SORTING: solitaire, puzzles, sorting objects, repetitive doodles, counting.

VERY slowly create systers/routines that automate your care needs and implement them very slowly. This can look like visual aids, timers, lists, bullet journols, weekly routines, Expect if to take time and trial and error to get into these habits. Pick I-2 habits or systems to implement at a time, starting with the ones you're most excifed about.

Autistic burnout and Complex PTSD have a lot in common and executive dysfunction often increases during burnout, so resources made for these can be very helpful.

Burnout Recovery

I hope this helps. Thank you for the inbox. I hope you have a wonderful day/night. ♥️

#inbox #inbox reply #inbox is open

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clairdelunelove · 5 months

Text

sunset boulevard

itadori yuuji x f!reader

genre: fluff! (blind date! one shot)

warnings: none, 2.6k words

synopsis: you don't do blind dates; too much risk with little reward. but your friends assure you that this time it'll be different. and when the epitome of 'the boy next door' starts talking to you at the amusement park– you think they're right.

a.n. haha, not my brainrot about itadori being so bad that I had to write this. and nu, I've never been on a blind date before but imma write about it :3

you created it on a whim. encouraged by your friends’ prodding and teasing about your love life- or lack thereof- so your fingers clicked on the newly downloaded app. meant to be just for fun. a silly topic for your girls’ night. “just for the plot,” you told them with a knowing shake of your head when they all impishly giggled. a generic dating app where most people on there had an ulterior motive and would do anything to achieve it. but you weren’t willing to accept that, promising yourself to keep boundaries. the limit that you’re willing to bargain on is a public date. emphasis on the ‘public’ part because your friends are already scheming. whispers about a netflix and chill type of date. but you sign into the app, choosing a couple pictures of yourself that are adequate enough to catch some attention, and write a creative bio. it’s impressionable. modest. wholesome. definitely not the route that your friends desired for you to engage in. “done,” you state matter-of-factly. a beat of silence passes. the realization that you’re actually agreeing to this sets in. much to your chagrin, your friends end up snatching your phone from your hands and adding their own spin to your profile. editing your pictures to the ones that they have on their phones. “we’ll set you up with someone good for you,” your friend reassures with a good-natured pat on your back. “real good,” your other friend slyly drawls and bursts out laughing with the others. you don’t know whether your stomach twists from nervousness or anticipation from their ruse.

ten minutes until your date is deemed late. twisting your wrist, you glance at your watch again just to confirm your suspicion and huff. you’d arrived half an hour earlier than the time your friends texted you. your motto was that it was better to be incredibly early than late, especially since you had no idea what your date looked like. but the fear of being deserted causes you to shift on your feet as you sidestep out of the way for a group of teenagers to pass. wouldn’t be the first time you’d get stood up. glancing upward, you double-check that you’re standing underneath the carnival’s main attraction– the ferris wheel. its bright, illuminated colors jump out at you, almost mockingly, as if to highlight the gloomy frown plastered on your face.

“waiting for someone too?”

the voice snaps you out of your daze and you’re left peering up at the person that seemingly appeared out of thin air. he’s attractive– the kind of appeal that leaves you breathless from his inquisitive eyes and easy grin. a slender hand is carded in his hair as he patiently awaits for your response.

“yeah,” you croak before hastily clearing your throat, “I am.”

it shocks you that he’s even conversing with you. clad in a yellow hoodie and denim jeans, he’s the epitome of 'the boy next door.' could probably win the role for starring in the newest coming of age movie that’s bound to gain revenue just from his visage. he’s adorned in vibrant colors that contrast your pastel-toned clothes and you self-consciously pull at your shirt.

“wanna check out that game right there? promise it’ll be quick!”

from the corner of your eye, you recognize that he’s angled towards you as the question leaves his lips. gosh, is he talking to you? almost like he’s inviting you to spend some time with him in the meantime.

dumbfounded, your mouth drops open as you point to yourself, “me? you’re talking to me?”

“of course!” he replies enthusiastically like it’s second nature for him to hang out with strangers, “might as well take advantage of the time, right?”

he adjusts his backpack by slinging the dark strap over his shoulder and turns to walk in the direction of the nearby carnival booths that have games lined up for customers. you note that he attempts to blend in with the crowd but his upbeat attitude is too perceivable. has a glimmer in his eyes that attracts the ogling of bystanders. luminescent signs light up the path to the section dedicated to the midway. wooden signs promising ‘fun’ and ‘a winner every time’ written in bubbly font. it’s enticing. it’s fun– an experience that you’ve lacked recently. and before you can argue that you’re waiting for someone, the blushy haired male ushers you to follow with a wave of his hand.

“c’mon!”

you’re lightly jogging after him, short strides compared to his long ones, and manage to catch up to him with an exasperated breath. he’s fit; not the type where his physique screams ‘gym rat’ but rather that he’s the epitome of good health.

catching sight of you beside him, he gleefully chuckles, “knew you’d be up for some fun! I’m–”

he breaks off to gawk at a booth that grabs his attention and instantly treads through the crowd to line up for it. the game has the typical objective of knocking over a pyramid of milk bottles. you stare at it expectantly, knowing that this midway game is usually fixed; bottles stacked on the bottom are filled with sand or lead that weigh in a couple extra pounds and the given ball is unusually light. he’s buzzing with excitement, though. hastily patting his pocket, he pulls out his wallet and whips out enough money to buy a turn.

“I’m itadori yuuji, by the way,” he finally continues his belated introduction while pushing the money into the midway worker’s hands.

“yuuji,” you repeat and savor the name on your lips, “these games are usually rigged, ya know.”

"are they?”

he doesn’t seem bothered by the carnival’s dirty tactic, however. merely chirps a word of gratitude when the worker tosses him the singular ball and deftly explains the rules of the game. the customary one chance to knock over all three milk bottles and you knowingly press your lips together.

yet, your eyes comically widen as he begins to strip his hoodie off and hands it to you, “can you hold this for a second? thanks!”

straight away, the movement coaxes onlookers to turn their attention to the both of you. steely gazes focused on the cuts of muscle on yuuji’s arm as he rolled his shoulder to stretch. you’re no exception. in fact, you take back what you earlier assumed about his physique. baffled by how his baggy clothes managed to cover his impressive build, you hurriedly turn your chin to hide the warmth that spreads across your cheeks and neatly tuck his hoodie under your arm. his physique is essentially out of a magazine— broad, beefy shoulders that taper off into a small waist.

your lips move before you can stop them. “you got this!”

an expression of shock paints his face due to your encouragement before he flashes you a lopsided grin; boyish before he concentrates. there’s a gleam in his eyes as he retracts his arm like he’s winding up to pitch in a baseball game. then, he lobs— no, hurls— it straight at the tower of milk bottles. the ball whizzes through the air and the targets come crashing down from the sheer power of his throw. it’s startling. dazed, you’re left wondering if the stranger you just met is secretly superhuman.

“we have a winner!” the midway worker roars to the enthusiastic crowd.

“yes!”

yuuji pumps his fist in the air as the worker and a couple people in the crowd come to congratulate him. he’s all smiles now. there’s a big, toothy grin plastered on his face when the worker hands him his prize; a large teddy bear that has a red bow on its chest and the sheer size of it has him grasping onto it with both hands.

“look!” he exclaims and gently shakes the stuffed toy in his grasp, “do you like it?”

you can’t help but giggle at the exhilaration behind his gaze, “it’s cute!”

he’s clearly pleased by your reaction, swiping a finger over his nose before bursting out into laughter and your heart fills. his habits are so endearing and wholesome that it’s heartwarming. abruptly, the teddy bear is pushed into your chest and yuuji's knuckles brush against yours from the maneuver. the stuffed bear’s big, beady eyes stare at you as yuuji deliberately turns to shrug on his hoodie again.

“it’s for you!”

his confession is a little muffled as he extends his arms through his sleeves and it occurs to you that he’s whirled away from you for a reason. a dust of pink washes over his cheeks and he runs a sheepish hand through his tousled hair.

“I won it for you,” he reiterates, almost bashful, “I mean, you did come and spend some time with me when you were probably busy but–”

it’s a stark contrast from the confident and affable guise that he’s shown you. a peek into his personality that you’ve yet to appreciate. he kicks at a stray pebble on the pavement while his hands are shoved into his pockets. the way his blushy hair is a similar shade to the tips of his ears causes you to inwardly melt.

your thoughts go haywire but a demure smile stretches across your glossy lips, “thank you, yuuji. I love it.”

he clears his throat, murmurs a comment about how it’s not a huge deal, and faces you. yuuji blinks— once, twice, and his gaze softens. then, he utters a compliment that goes straight to your heart.

“you look cute like that.”

it’s straightforward, candid but you still ask, “like what?”

“happy.”

you let him tug you to the next midway booth.

“aw, come on!”

yuuji’s droning is followed by the teasing nudge he gives you. the touch draws out a yelp from you and the sound immediately reduces him into a laughing fit. for now, the both of you agreed to do a little sightseeing before the amusement park closed for the day. it was already evening; the sky was a cascade of apricot and vermilion. a beautiful vision to match the day. spending time with yuuji was like being in a trance. time seemed to slip quicker when he was with you.

naturally, your fingers reach to pinch his cheek due to his antics.

“ow!” he cries and childishly rubs at the inflicted area, “not my fault I’m good at every game here.”

although the blushy haired male is telling the truth, you can’t help but pout at his words because yes– he was basically a professional at every game in the midway. you’ve tried your hand at a couple booths. yuuji insisted on paying for anything you touched and fondly watched. however, he was soon tagged in whenever you were unsuccessful and he managed to turn the game’s odds around. evident in the countless plushies that’s tucked in his strong arms. all of them were for you, of course. he just plucked them out of your grasp when you briefly mentioned how your arms were getting tired from carrying them around.

“you’re in denial!” he singsongs and grins wider when he hears you huff in exasperation.

“I am not in denial!”

“you are!”

“well, you’ve spent a lot on these games,” you pause to lower your voice, “and on me. you haven’t even known me for that long.”

unsurprisingly, he recognizes the concern laced on your words and stops walking. his brows furrowed. the teasing grin is wiped from his face and is replaced with a tender gaze. forever wise and dependable. he leans down, hooks a finger under your chin, and murmurs his reasoning.

“honestly,” his voice trails off in remembrance, “I barely have any time to do fun stuff like this so I'm taking advantage of it.”

the sentiment is supposed to be understandable, one that many individuals’ share in life. yet, you can’t help but assume that his words weigh heavier than the average person’s. it stabs at your heart to know that such a kind soul is no stranger to heartache.

“besides,” he interrupts your train of thought and gleefully grins, “I get to win a pretty girl some prizes. sounds like a win to me.”

with an affectionate compliment, yuuji cleverly brings back the light-hearted mood from earlier. he’s skilled at this– redirecting your focus through an optimistic point of view. one of his traits that you’re smitten with. fondly patting your head, he takes a step back and rises to his full height. he’s still gauging your expression, though. his eyes are like liquid honey from this proximity and you’re in awe. truth be told, you might never meet another person quite like him.

you can’t help but poke fun, “are you saying that you usually pick up girls at the amusement park, yuuji?”

“me? nah,” then he murmurs, a tinge of guilt coating his words, “I was actually supposed to go on a blind date here.”

the remark leaves his lips in a single, rushed breath like it’s been bothering him the entire time. he’s quiet. his arms tighten around the stuffed animals in his grasp and he tilts his head in contemplation. he’s internally battling himself. why did he have to open his mouth? is he ruining this and digging his own grave? frown deepening, he vaguely wonders if he should’ve brought it up in the first place. perhaps you would think of him differently and then–

from this angle you get a glimpse of his throat bobbing before he quickly adds, “but I liked this better.”

what the blushy haired male isn’t expecting, though, is how your face breaks into astonishment, “wait. a blind date? I’m supposed to be on a blind date too!”

you couldn’t believe your luck.

“you’re (y/n)?”

willingly nodding at his inquiry, yuuji sputters in disbelief and shifts the prizes under one arm so he can put a hand on your shoulder, “this is crazy! like, crazy in a good way but still– crazy! who would’ve thought, right?”

long arms blindly reaching for you, he wraps you into a hug that has your face squished into the hard expanse of his chest. he’s laughing wildly– a genuine sound that brings an emotion that knocks the wind out of you because he’s truly thrilled that you are his blind date. your fingers grip the back of his hoodie, allowing yourself to be engulfed in his warmth.

“and here I was dreading the blind date that kugisaki and fushiguro set up for me,” he thoughtlessly mumbles in your hair while retelling his own version of how his friends forced encouraged him to go.

pulling away, albeit unhurriedly, the both of you exchanged phone numbers and promises of keeping in touch were whispered into the evening air.

“you can text me whenever you want,” yuuji tucks his phone back into his pocket while sheepishly grinning, “even if you don’t have a reason to.”

cheekily texting him a greeting, for the fun of it, you grin when his phone dings at the notification, “I will.”

puffs of warm air swirl and intermingle into one. his eyes twinkled in the streetlights’ rays of light. it was romantic– sickeningly so that you wondered if you were dreaming.

yuuji ended up lending you his hoodie, chuckling when the bright, oversized garment swaddled you. he even walked you back to your place and waited in the chill until he heard the door’s lock click into place. there’s a bounce in your step when you waltz into your bedroom.

with all the stuffed animals neatly lined up on your bed, you instantly snap a picture of you and yuuji’s winnings. your fingers swiftly dropped the photo in your friends’ group chat before sending it to yuuji. and your lips curl into a smile when his text bubbles immediately appear on the screen. memorabilia of your first– successful– blind date with someone that was too good to be true.

#jujutsu itadori #jujutsu kaisen #yuji itadori #itadori x reader #yuuji itadori #yuuji fluff #itadori x y/n #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk x reader

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sophiiwrites · 12 days

Text

it's raining love ft. na jaemin

“you think love is hard? try predicting the fucking weather. that’s right. nature’s my own worst enemy.”

word count: 4.8k (it's one word away from 4.9 omg)

genre/archetypes: loosely inspired by forecasting love and weather, romance story, lots and lots of fluff, a little bit of comedy, adorably sweet and definitely tooth rotting :) also there’s going to be wrong terminology and stupid weather mistakes and i’m so sorry :((

synopsis: you and na jaemin are both meteorologists, working at the korea meteorological administration. of course, you love your job and the people working there: however, it becomes hard to deal with when you're constantly working overtime with no pay and a jaemin crisis in your brain.

notes: i love this story so much and i loved working on it, it’s near and dear to my heart! i hope you guys enjoy it too! i think it’s super fun, although i probably bungled most of the weather terminology lol

warnings/potential triggers: none! a little bit of maturity with the mention of a condom, some swearing

taglist: @lovesuhng

Sometimes, you hated the weather.

Which was ironic, because you worked with weather on a daily basis. As a meteorologist, you spent most of your time poring over satellite data and maps of wind charts: so, you spent most of your time with weather. But, you supposed, this was natural. Everyone hated their job once they started working in it.

When you were in sixth grade, you and Na Jaemin, your childhood best friend, had stumbled across the concept of meteorology. You both were instantly sucked into the magical world of predicting weather. When you first successfully listed out the weather conditions for the next seven days, you felt like a god.

Now? You were so done with your job. The lack of staff at the weather station meant that you were working overtime constantly. Today was the first day that you had managed to negotiate an ending time of 9 pm. You loved predicting weather, scanning the various charts to figure out what was going on in the atmosphere. But when you were forced to do this for hours each day running on low sleep? You had low motivation to do anything. Example: yesterday, you squealed over the vending machine restocking.

The. Vending. Machine. Restocking.

And it didn’t help that Na Jaemin was constantly a fucking ray of sunshine. He never seemed to stop- not throughout high school, not throughout college, and certainly not now. You didn’t know what was powering him. Could it be ambition? No, Jaemin was too nice for that. Was he a power generator? Did he only subside on the goodness of his heart, the power of his internal sun, and cups of coffee with eight shots of espresso?

Regardless of whatever he subsisted on, Na Jaemin was constantly there for you, and you appreciated that. But sometimes, he could be incredibly smothering even when you wanted to be left alone. Like now.

“Jaemin, I don’t need a break from work,” you sighed tiredly for the umpteenth time.

“You do!” Jaemin exclaimed. “Look at you, slumped down in your chair. You look very, very tired.”

You glared at him.

“I know you mean well, but that was incredibly insulting.”

Jaemin winced.

“Oops, sorry. You look amazing! I promise I’ll take you anywhere you want. A bar? Done. Club? Done. Home? Done. To the park even when it’s raining because you want to sit under the patio and eat ice cream even when I told you you’ll get a stomach ache from it and then you do get a stomach ache? Done. I won’t even baby you! I’ll be super, super good.”

You roll your eyes.

“Jaemin, I just need to work, get money, go home, and watch a movie. With ramen. And ice cream.”

“Done!” Jaemin exclaimed happily

“No- I didn’t mean-” you groaned and slumped further down in your chair. Secretly, you were enjoying Jaemin’s efforts, but you weren’t going to tell Jaemin that.

Jaemin smiled at you.

“Alright, see you soon!” He blew a kiss towards you.

You blinked, startled. Jaemin winked and walked away to his office, where he managed the seven day and ten day weather reports. Rubbing your eyes, you sighed tiredly, checking to see if Karina and Minjeong, your friends and fellow meteorologists, had noticed your interaction. Relieved they hadn’t, you hid your red face behind a rain chart. You didn’t want to deal with Jaemin’s shenanigans right now.

Jaemin had always been a naturally flirty person, but recently, he had been ramping it up. From winks to “accidental” touches, he had done a lot of things for the past two months. Of course, Karina and Minjeong had noticed incredibly quickly, and they wouldn’t stop teasing you about it. You, on the other hand, felt increasingly disoriented and confused by Jaemin’s actions.

To tell the truth, you liked Jaemin. But you couldn’t help but remember a specific day in the office. A day when Jaemin, to another meteorologist who was asking whether Jaemin liked you or not, replied:

“Her? Obviously not, you should totally ask her out!”

The meteorologist had then asked you out the following day, but you refused.

And Jaemin denying he liked you hadn’t happened once, either. This had happened not once, not twice, not even three times, but ten. Ten times.

“No, I don’t like her in that way!” Jaemin would always say.

Of course, Jaemin was never rude about not liking you- except for what he said in the office (you were still salty about that). But you didn’t have the courage to ask what Jaemin meant by his words.

Ever since the office incident, you had come to realize two things. One: you liked Jaemin. Two: you would never ask him to date you. Your friendship with Jaemin was too precious to risk asking him a question like that.

So even though Jaemin had ramped up all of his suspicious and flirty behaviors, you were too worried about ruining your friendship and too tired over work to reciprocate. Although, you mused, it would be nice to spend some time with Jaemin today. You hadn’t really done so in a while.

Returning to the satellite data, you consulted a few maps of today’s weather, ultimately deciding that there wouldn’t be a lot of change and hoping you were right so you wouldn’t have to stare at the maps again. Allowing your face to cool down, you then scooted your chair over to Karina’s desk. She was sipping on coffee and typing up a weather report for her boss.

“Hey, you can probably say the weather conditions for tomorrow are going to be like today’s.”

Karina smiled.

“Really? That’s amazing, because my boyfriend’s planning on taking me to a beach! If the weather’s this nice tomorrow-” Karina sighed dreamily. “It’ll be absolutely perfect.”

Minjeong, who sat across Karina, poked her head over the desk wall.

“Did someone say a beach date? Karina, are you entering your lovestruck era?” All three of you giggled.

“Oooooh, I haven’t seen you entering this era since that man,” you replied, chuckling as you returned to your desk. Karina groaned behind you.

“We don’t speak of my mistakes!” she yelled. You laughed.

“Hey, I noticed Jaemin’s been talking to you a lot recently,” Winter added, smirking slightly. You rolled your eyes.

“We’re just friends! And we’ve been friends since kindergarten! I know everything about that man. There’s a reason why I’m not attracted to him,” you replied.

Winter smirked widely. “You should look at yourself when you talk to him. Your eyes go starry and your cheeks flush. Like right now!”

You patted your cheeks, surprised to find they were still a little red. You thought they’d cooled down. Maybe not.

“It’s hot in here!” you complained. “My cheeks are always red!”

“Remember that time Minjeong added too much blush to her cheeks and she looked like a clown?” Karina snickered. Minjeong rushed to hit Karina, complaining as she did so.

“We don’t talk about that!”

Karina smiled, and turned to you. “Thanks for the tips about tomorrow’s weather! Definitely double check again, though.”

You groaned.

“I know, I know- but remember that guy who didn’t double check any of his work? He got fired soon after for making a bunch of blunders,” Karina added.

“I don’t make that many mistakes!” you exclaimed, but you knew Karina was right. You were tired and ready to go home, but it was important you finish your tasks for the day so that the weather reports could go out soon. And it was important you finished your tasks correctly. You breathed in and smiled. Of course, your work was always annoying, but the people here always made it better. Karina and Minjeong were always joking around but uber-talented when it came to weather reports- and negotiating with the higher-ups for more snacks in the office.

Sighing, you double-checked the weather reports again: and that’s when you noticed something strange. In one of the upper-air weather maps, there was a weird wind pattern breaking off of the others.

This was strange. You quickly did a quick search of the upper-air wind patterns for the last seven days, then the last two weeks, then the last month. Your brain went into meteorologist mode. The wind hadn’t moved like this for a while. It was summer, so the prevailing winds should have been moving southwesterly in South Korea. Instead, the wind was moving towards the east.

You gasped. This could only mean a squall, and that meant active weather instead of the bludgeoning heat Seoul had received all week.

“Karina! I need to show you something!” you exclaimed.

Karina rolled her chair over to your desk, where you showed her the strange wind pattern that meant active weather. Karina groaned.

“A storm? Oh, man, my date is absolutely ruined. That’s a large cold front too. Oh man, there’s definitely going to be thunderstorms tomorrow!”

You patted her back.

“Just move the date inside. Rain and wind can be incredibly romantic and also very aesthetic- provided you’re inside instead of outside. If you’re outside, things get dicey,” you reassured Karina.

“Oh! I can schedule a restaurant or something! We can eat at a fancy restaurant!” Then, Karina smiled knowingly.

“See? This is exactly why I tell you to check your work,” Karina beamed. You rolled your eyes, and Karina rolled back over to her desk, looking for a way to salvage her date. Meanwhile, you prepared your data and walked over to your supervisor, Minhyung. After presenting the data to him, he nodded.

“That’s a good thing to catch. Gunning for that new supervisor position?” he teased as he typed up the data, sending the update throughout the building.

You smiled weakly.

“No, just trying to predict the weather. So, mostly failing,” you sighed, returning back to your seat. Finally, you were done for the day. The clock struck nine, and people around you started to pack up.

“Come with us for drinks!” Karina said, holding out her hand to you. You shook your head.

“Jaemin and I are going to go watch a movie.”

Karina and Minjeong giggled to each other.

“Just make sure you bring a con-”

“Okay!” you exclaimed as you pushed them out the door. “Bye now. Have fun!” You could hear Karina and Minjeong’s giggles as you gathered your stuff. Jaemin walked over to you and offered to carry your bag as you put on your coat.

“Did you call a taxi?” Jaemin asked as you both walked out of the office.

“Yup! It should be coming…” you consulted your watch. “Now!”

The taxi pulled up, and you both got in. You pulled up a movie recommendations list after telling the driver where to go, and debated over what movie you should watch together.

“I personally think we should watch something fun and cozy. It’s Friday! Let’s relax or something!” Jaemin exclaimed, pointing to a movie on the screen.

“Those are so boring, Nana. Come on, let’s watch an action movie or something. Mission Impossible, maybe?”

Jaemin pouted.

“But I want to watch something cute!”

You sighed.

“Fine, we’ll watch Barbie or whatever.”

“Barbie’s not a cute movie! Well, yes, it’s incredibly heartwarming, but it sends a deeper message about the role of women in society!”

As Jaemin continued to talk, you leaned back in your seat, smiling.

You felt a sense of belonging with Jaemin. A sense of happiness. He was the friend who comforted you, the parent who took care of you, and he wasn’t afraid to let you know when you messed up. At this point, he wasn’t even a friend. He was family, and it felt really nice to talk to him after a long day at work.

Maybe Karina was right. Maybe he would make a good boyfriend.But you had always kept your friendship like this, and you weren’t about to ruin it by asking Jaemin that question.

But the question lingered in your head throughout the night. It lingered throughout the movie, it lingered throughout your shower, and it became particularly insistent when Jaemin decided he’d sleep over. You had Jaemin’s clothes in your dresser. This was close to boyfriend and girlfriend behavior. At this point, it was that kind of behavior. Jaemin even decided to sleep in the same bed with you, and you realized something.

Maybe you should ask Jaemin if he liked you or not. After all, who sleeps in the same bed with their platonic friend?

You pushed it out of your head. You weren’t brave enough to ask, not after that incident. You reiterated to yourself that you were comfortable with your friendship.

The next morning, you hurriedly rushed into the office, five minutes late. It wasn’t until you both walked to the office doors that you realized the implications of showing up at the office with Jaemin next to you. You ordered Jaemin to go in first, and he did so confusedly.

As a result, you were five minutes late, and you swore you could see Minhyung giving you a pointed look as you slid into your seat. You winced and turned immediately to your work. Pulling up the wind charts for the day’s weather, you sighed and settled into a haze of weather predictions, data, and satellite images.

Sure enough, it started raining soon. You smiled a bit, pleased with your correct prediction, and continued on. Hopefully the people of South Korea remembered to bring umbrellas.

Around lunchtime, Karina came over with a worried look on her face.

“What’s up?” you asked, setting the charts aside. You hadn’t found anything out of the ordinary so far. That meant less work for you.

“Something’s happening over here,” Karina said, asking you to turn to the ocean real-time data. You looked closely at the computer screen. The picture depicted made you gasp.

“Oh no,” you murmured as you looked. “Is it a storm system? Does this mean a typhoon?”

Karina nodded.

“The conditions are perfect too. Warm water above 26 degrees, great distance from the Equator, low vertical wind shear- the tropical wave is present too. This is bad.”

“How are the wind speeds?” you asked.

“Gaining quickly, and they definitely aren’t slowing down,” Karina replied. “I really hope this doesn’t hit us- oh man, I was just checking the ocean currents and zoomed out to see what was happening!”

“And thank goodness you did, because this is big,” you replied. “I’m going to go tell Minhyung. He needs to get this down to the Natural Disasters station right away.” You scrambled to tell Minhyung while Karina kept looking at the data for any new signs.

“Minhyung!”

“What?” Minhyung asked, setting aside his work. “You look worried.”

“We have a possible typhoon situation,” you said, showing Minhyung the picture on your laptop. “Can you look?”

Minhyung looked.

“What’s the situation? Are the necessary requirements all present?”

You rattled the list off, and Minhyung’s face became anxious. He nodded and moved to call the Natural Disasters station downstairs.

“They knew about this already and are looking into it,” Minhyung replied after he finished the call.

“Do they need any help?” you asked.

“They should be fine, but go and notify the seven and ten day weather report. Plus, see if they need any help. Karina and Minjeong have got it handled over here. It’s going to develop and make landfall quickly under these conditions. Besides, you need a little variation in your work.”

You looked at Minhyung quizzically, and he beamed.

“Everyone needs a little variety from time to time! I’ve noticed you’ve been kind of down recently, and it’ll do you some good to help out, get some pep back into your step. Helping others releases endorphins!”

You smiled at Minhyung, touched that your supervisor cared so much about you. As you walked quickly down to Natural Disasters, you almost crashed into Jaemin as you did.

“What’s going on?” he asked, and you told him everything. Jaemin’s face looked shocked.

“Is there an estimated time of arrival? How close is the typhoon to South Korea?” Jaemin asked.

“Not yet, but ask Natural Disasters. They’ll probably have an answer for you.”

Jaemin smiled at you, and you frowned quizzically.

“I’m proud of you! You’re gonna save lives.”

You smiled.

“Thanks, but technically it was all Karina. Hopefully we can do something before it arrives.”

Jaemin nodded. “Yeah, maybe we can help Natural Disasters coordinate with public officials to evacuate and shore up beaches.”

You smiled and Jaemin pulled you in for a hug.

“Good job!” Jaemin said as he patted you on the back. You smiled, savoring the warmth of Jaemin’s body and the smell of his cologne. Friends definitely hugged each other, but for a moment, you let yourself imagine you and Jaemin were truly dating.

Just then, Minjeong walked by, letting out a whistle at the two of you.

“Just date already!” she yelled, entering the bathroom. Both of your faces reddened, and Jaemin stepped back quickly, letting go of you first. You frowned slightly, disappointed.

“I should go,” Jaemin stammered.

“Me too! Yeah, lots of, uh, stuff to do,” you said breathlessly. You walked quickly back to your desk, face red. You were flushed from Minjeong’s remark, but also a little confused at why Jaemin would step back so quickly. On one hand, you knew why he would. On the other hand, you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt by Jaemin’s actions.

In the afternoon, you avoided Minjeong and helped the Natural Disasters people make plans for the hurricane. You realized how hard it was to do so, and for a while, you were wholly focused on your work. So focused, in fact, that you forgot all about your gripes with your job. It did feel nice to do something and help others.

“We’ll have to add sandbags near these locations and evacuate the people living near here,” Yujin, the head of the Natural Disasters department, said. You nodded, taking a picture and adding it to the email.

“How about we create some more reinforcements too? And we can air our typhoon checklist commercial on TV, reminding people to have an emergency kit ready and everything else,” you suggested.

Yujin nodded.

“That’s a great idea! In fact, why don’t you go check with TV to make sure they have something ready?”

You nodded, smiling. It really did feel good to help.

You went down and checked in with the people working at the TV station, then came back up and continued to help Yujin with the preparations. At the end of the day, Yujin thanked you for your help, complimenting you on your work ethic, and walked you back to your desk, stopping at Minhyung’s on her way down.

You sat down, realizing that you hadn’t felt this content at work in ages. You felt refreshed, like you had a purpose, and you were eager to continue helping. Maybe that was what you should approach your work as: something that could help people. Your weather reports did make a difference. It informed people what to wear, whether to bring an umbrella, and what preparations they should take around the house.

You hadn’t really felt motivation in the past month, but you realized this could help you get out of your slump. Of course, it wasn’t a catch-all, but it helped you feel a little happier. Smiling, you got back to work with renewed energy.

You noticed Karina and Minjeong talking, and you listened in on their conversation. Minjeong revealed she had made plans for dinner, and you pressed her for all the details.

“What does it matter? I’m not going to be able to go on it anyway,” Minjeong sighed, scrolling through the recently recorded temperatures. “I’ve canceled already. This hurricane situation is more important, although I would love to go on a date right now. And the reservation! I spent good money on that, and I can’t even cancel it? What a waste.”

Suddenly, Jaemin walked out to the printer, and Minjeong gasped. You narrowed your eyes, mentally preparing for what was coming next.

“You two should go to dinner!” Minjeong shrieked, causing Jaemin to look over, confused. Minjeong hushed her voice.

“Come on, do it for me? I can��t cancel the reservation, and Minhyung’s going to let you go. You predicted that rainstorm the other day, and you helped Karina predict that hurricane. Also, I overheard Yujin’s conversation with Minhyung. Yujin was positively gushing over you! He’s sure to let you go.”

Karina smirked too.

“I’m even willing to give you all the credit for the hurricane- provided you go on that dinner date with Jaemin.”

You shook your head.

“I’m needed here! I can’t just abandon you two.” Something about your meeting with Jaemin being called a date made you feel antsy and anxious. Like you were afraid of something. Besides, you had just found your new motivation for work.

“What, we suggest a date with Jaemin and suddenly you’re all goody-two shoes? You’ve complained about this job for the past month, so here’s a break for you! Please, do it for me?” Minjeong pleaded. “I will beg. I will get down on my knees and plead.”

You frowned.

“Fine. I will. But Jaemin has to say yes first.”

You walked over to Jaemin, hoping he wouldn’t say yes.

“Would you like to go to dinner with me? You asked.

“Totally!” Jaemin beamed, and you put your head in your hands.

“I just have to ask Minhyung first,” you said, praying to all the gods out there that he wouldn’t say yes. You walked over to Minhyung, Jaemin trailing after you.

“Minhyung, is it possible I can take some time off to have dinner with Jaemin tonight?”

Minhyung stared at you two. Behind your back, Karina and Minjeong held up signs that said “do it for the love!”

Minhyung smiled.

“Totally! I understand the importance of spending time with your significant other. Yes, you can go. Just remember to make up those hours some time this week.”

“Significant other?” you squawked while Jaemin smiled cheerfully at Minhyung. As you walked out the door, Jaemin, Minjeong, and Karina all cheered while you closed your eyes. This was not going to be easy.

“What do you want to eat?” you asked, looking at Jaemin. For someone who wore sweatpants at home all day, he cleaned up nicely, not looking at all out of place in the fancy restaurant.

Meanwhile, you felt nervous, anxious, and for some reason, very prickly. Prickly all over. Was this a date? Was it not a date? What were you supposed to do on a meeting which was now a dinner date? The word “date” kept tripping you up.

You felt terrified, if you were being frank with yourself. The date was nice, Jaemin looked dashing, and you could get used to this. But you didn’t want to. Because Jaemin didn’t like you in a romantic way. That’s what you always told yourself.

So the moment you asked Jaemin and something like this slipped out of your hands, you would remember these moments with pain.

“Honestly? Whatever you want,” Jaemin beamed.

“No, Jaemin, I mean it. I don’t feel like choosing, and it would be great if you could choose?” you asked.

“No! I’m good with anything, I promise.”

You tried to breathe in, but you finally snapped.

“Stop it. Stop being so nice!” you yelled, frustrated, your nervousness coming to a head. The restaurant became silent, and your face reddened.

“I- I have to go to the bathroom,” you said, excusing yourself, making your way to the back of the restaurant. In the bathroom, you slapped cold water on your cheeks and winced at yourself in the mirror. How could you be so stupid?

You composed yourself, going over the two rules you had set in your head. Don’t be too wishful, and don’t overthink Na Jaemin’s behavior. Opening the door, you were shocked to find Jaemin outside waiting for you.

“Are you okay?” Jaemin asked, worriedly. “You’ve been worried ever since we got into the car.”

“What, was it that obvious?” you muttered.

“Yeah. You have a tell, and it’s really obvious.”

You sighed. “What is it?”

“You bounce your leg.”

You frown.

“Why are you so worried about today?” Jaemin asked. “And tell the truth. I can tell when you’re lying.”

“What, do I have another tell?” you remark sarcastically.

“Yup. Your eyes shift.”

You sigh again. “Okay, Jaemin. Stop.”

Jaemin closed his mouth, waiting for your reply.

You frowned deeply. Minjeong and Karina had been encouraging you for weeks, ever since they got wind that you might like Jaemin. So you should have the courage to ask him out. But you were so scared. So scared of ruining a friendship, one that you held closely to your heart.

Maybe it didn’t hurt to ask about that day at work. That wasn’t asking Jaemin an “if he liked you” question, that was just a simple clarification. It wouldn’t lead to anything.

You mustered up your courage and took a breath.

“Jaemin, about that day in the office- did you really mean what you said?”

“What day?” Jaemin frowned.

“You know. The day when you said you would never like me romantically,” you murmured. “Remember? When you said ‘Obviously not, you should totally ask her out!’”

Jaemin laughed.

“This isn’t funny!” you groaned.

“No! Of course I didn’t mean it!” Jaemin chuckled, taking your hands in his. “I was probably too straight with my words. I was trying to encourage that person to ask you out.”

Jaemin paused, thinking.

“And… well, perhaps his words annoyed me a little bit.”

You paused. Was Jaemin implying what you thought he was implying?

“Him asking me out annoyed you?”

Jaemin nodded.

“Does that mean…”

Jaemin smiled and pulled you in for a hug.

“Yes, I like you,” he whispered in your ear. You stepped back, staring at Jaemin.

“What did you say?” you asked, making sure you heard Jaemin properly.

“I like you!” Jaemin said.

“You like me?” you asked in wonderment, looking into Jaemin’s eyes.

“Yes, you dumbass!” Jaemin replied, giggling. “My god, you must be really dense. Did my behavior in the past two months mean nothing to you?”

“Shut up,” you giggled, hitting Jaemin’s back. He smiled, and his eyes flickered to your lips. He leaned in to kiss you…

And was interrupted by a voice from behind.

“Hello? You know, some people need to use the bathroom too! You’re blocking the way!”

Looking out from behind Jaemin, you noticed a line of people who needed to use the bathroom, voicing their disappointment and annoyance. Faces turning red, you quickly led Jaemin back to your dinner table.

“I want to keep kissing you,” Jaemin pouted.

“I know- but first, let's enjoy dinner at the expense of Minjeong,” you smirked, and Jaemin smiled at you.

When you finally left the restaurant, Jaemin pulled you in for a kiss. You had received your fair share of kisses over the years, but as Jaemin’s mouth moved against yours, you felt like you were floating on a cloud. You gripped his shoulders tightly.

Thunder crackled in the air, and rain broke out over the city. As Jaemin let go, he tucked a piece of hair behind your ears and smiled. You smiled back, and leaned in for another kiss. Jaemin wrapped his hands around your waist, kissing you with all his might.

Even if it was cold, even if it was raining, nothing could stop you right now. You felt like you were on top of the world.

“All right, everyone! The typhoon’s going to hit soon- start monitoring!” Minhyung exclaimed. Everyone in the office sat at their desks, watching their screens closely. Karina and Minjeong had even stopped bickering with each other.

You nodded, focusing on your computer screen.

The last few days had been a blur in your mind- you had helped workers evacuate, monitored hurricane conditions, worked with the government to update them on the latest data, and somehow, also spent lots and lots of time with Jaemin- mostly kissing him, although you talked to each other as well.

Through the process, you discovered what you really enjoyed: helping the people be safe and protecting them from anything that could happen. Thus, a few days ago, you had asked Minhyung to transfer you from your department to the Natural Disasters one. Minhyung and Yujin had both approved. Karina and Minjeong had reacted with varying levels of approval, but eventually, they both came around. And, of course, Jaemin favored whatever you wanted to do.

As you took notes on the data and hoped that all your precautions would work, you felt a strange sense of home. You looked back to see Jaemin standing behind you. He wrapped his arms around your neck, humming a tune in your ear.

“Aren’t you supposed to be doing something?” you whispered.

“I asked Minhyung if I could be with you!” Jaemin exclaimed, smiling wide. He looked over your shoulder at the data. Taking your pencil, he scribbled something on your paper, then added a heart next to it. Hesitating, Jaemin kissed your cheek and continued humming.

“What are you humming?” you asked happily.

“Oh… nothing,” Jaemin whispered, smiling.

At that moment, you felt nothing but peace.

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kafkaguy · 1 month

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why did head (1968) flop so badly, you may ask?

the short answer is: terrible promotion. why the promotion was so terrible is another question entirely. there are two schools of thought: 1) bob rafelson and jack nicholson were being deliberately avant garde and obtuse (maybe to attract a certain psychedelic audience) or 2) deliberate malicious intent from columbia pictures to get rid of the monkees (by November 1968, when the movie premiered, the monkees TV show had been cancelled for 2 months).

(LA Times, 2008)

what exactly was the ad campaign? Well, it was originally supposed to be Bob Rafelson's head displayed for a few seconds smiling at the camera--according to Wikipedia this was a spoof on Andy Warhol's short film Blowjob (1964). but in the end it was John Brockman, even more unknown, and he was just the guy who was supposed to be filming the clip.

from Andrew Sandoval's The Monkees Day-by-day Story (page 210). explains more about why they did this. Micky also says he thinks it was a way to get back at the monkees for striking on the first day of filming when they found out they would get no creative credit for the film and had been "getting ripped off pretty badly" basically for years.

another factor was the critics reviews. obviously Head is not your average film, and loads of reviews looked down on it as psychedelic garbled trash. they didn't get it. there were positive reviews of course, but most people just didnt get it (and you cant really blame them - its at its most enjoyable when you are a) a bit of a freak, b) a total anti-capitalist, or c) substantially aware of the horrors the monkees were going through at this point. no film critic at the time ticked all 3 of these boxes). i think at this point bob rafelson panicked, because he wanted the film to do well, he just wanted it to do well independent of the monkees (hubris). there's a funny story about the night before the movie premiered in new york, he and jack nicholson got arrested for putting up stickers promoting head, after jack tried to put one on a police officer's helmet. and it makes me wonder why he then didn't fight harder for the film to do well.

it's funny (re: sad) how so many things came together to bring about the doom of the film: bob rafelson and jack nicholson's own cockiness about how well the film would do, their complete disregard of the what the monkees themselves wanted, the studio being tired of the monkees/already having cancelled the show, the whole phenomenon dying out a little since record sales had gone down (the last album they put out was in february 1968 - by this point it was november, and the Head album wouldn't be released until December)...

another peter quote because I trust him the most (again from the day-by-day story, page 210)

Mike over the years has said different things, at one point calling Head an assisted suicide (pertaining to his own desires to kill the monkees phenomenon and be seen as a serious musician), at other points calling it a murder (which i think is how peter continued to see it throughout most of his life, while simultaneously recognising its artistic and cinematic merit, and also saying the soundtrack was the record he was proudest of besides headquarters 1967). but here's something Mike said in the Head commentary (some time in the early 2000s) which i find simultaneously funny and devestating:

so yeah. the main conclusion is that nothing was in Head's favour for it to do well. there were conflicting visions, conflicting motivations, a total lack of interest from Columbia pictures, and no one was on the Monkees' side, not even really the monkees themselves. the world just wasn't ready for the crazy anti-monkees monkee movie. their swag was too different. everybody wanted to kill them. but they didnt have to cos they killed themselves it happens right at the start of the movie and again at the end. WATCH HEAD.

#hopefully this makes sense. i love to talk about head #the monkees #head 1968 #op

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ariicandy · 7 months

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𝘔𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘊𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘦𝘴 !?

About ; Genshin boys on who will match with you for Halloween!! 👻👻

Chars ; Heizou, Venti, && Scara !!

A/n ; 2nd halloween fic!! Having no motivation to do this sorry if it lacks the way i wanted to put it, honestly had no clue what to do for the costumes (｡•́︿•̀｡)

★☆﹒HEIZOU will read through you and automatically say “I’ll match with u for halloween!! What did u have in mind?” You guys will have an entire list on what you guys can match on in just 2 hours! Only the difficult part is choosing..

★☆﹒You will either end up doing matching detective & assistant costumes! You guys fit perfectly together and would 100% pretend both of you are trying to “solve” something. That something is having the most candy at the end of the day & how many comments you guys get!

★☆﹒Will swap some candys that you don’t like he likes with ones he doesn’t!! Will be eating it walking around to last the whole night with you comparing how much candy you both got and possibly watching a horror movie to end the day

★☆﹒VENTI will be the one asking you to match, going up to you, giving you that cheesy smile of his asking you something. With u agreeing, he said of possible doing doing those food costumes. But you guys agreed being a dinosaur or alien, mainly you guys will be having fun with kids

★☆﹒You guys playfully start hitting each other seeing people getting the attention of 2 dinosaurs/aliens fighting is funny and silly. Hearing the children laugh also made you both laugh from how silly you guys must be!

★☆﹒Venti went into diluc’s tavern as a dinosaur and made the whole tavern laugh just from some random dinosaur casually walking into the tavern as nothing like a normal person. But how will venti take his drink if he can’t even properly grab anything?? Guess he has to wait for that another time after Halloween. Right now he will be eating candy there and making scary stories to keep you guys entertained!!

★☆﹒SCARA would not even ask cause he thinks it’s silly, only weird people do it. So you expect him to back down on it when you ask to match. After practically begging him and owning to not bother him for 2 weeks he finally agreed!! ONLY he says something good atleast that will match both you well. Y’all were the pretty matching costumes people 100%

★☆﹒settling for something a bit simple on doing joker and Harley Quinn costumes! Scara as usual complained on how basic this costume was BUT he also didn’t have an idea cause he was planning on doing nothing. Having the best looks with you got people complementing you both a lot saying you both look amazing and how awesome you both are together.

★☆﹒Scaring kids was fun for scara cause it was super easy for him to be scary cause he’s a villain, he can simply act like one. Tho he tries to not take it so far just a face look meant to scare them. He also stole a bit of candy from some kid by quickly picking up a candy bar from the overfilled bucket of the kid, he obviously didn’t share of course.

Forgive me if they are ooc, been having no motivation and forced myself to finish this (｡•́︿•̀｡)

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kissesfrombangtanatnight · 5 months

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Roman Reigns: Breaking News (Part II to Don't Forget the Strawberries and Whipped Cream.)

Author's Note: Didn't expect to make a Part II, but I couldn't resist after the positive feedback from Part I. Also, I do not own the image used in this. As always, enjoy!

Warnings: Strong language, mentions of death

Two Months Later

“Yes girl, I almost cussed that woman out. Talking to me like she stupid.” You laugh with your work bestie, Vallerie, on the phone while relaxing on the living room couch. You had a bowl of popcorn in your lap as you prepared for movie night with your husband, who should return home in a few minutes. He went out to get some dinner being that you both lacked the motivation to cook. However, with a storm now brewing outside, and your favorite Panda Express restaurant being thirty minutes away, he was a little late. You called his phone, but it went straight to voicemail. You rolled your eyes, having remembered telling your hardheaded husband to charge his phone which was at 10% earlier that day. No worries though, he was a safe driver, so you knew he’d be home shortly.

Lately, life has been great. Your newborn baby girl arrived on time, bringing joy to you and your husband’s life.

He’s been a great support, always making sure he’s doing what he’s supposed to do as a new father. Your daughter was a complete daddy’s girl from the time she exited the womb. The bond between her and her father was heartwarming. You continue to reminisce as you flip through channels, trying to find a good horror movie, but stumbling upon the news instead.

Now, normally, you weren’t a person to watch the news as there was always something bad on it. And not surprisingly, tonight was no different. You look intensely at the TV as the news reporter starts reporting on yet another woman’s body being found in a local abandoned house. You shake your head, turning the volume up, but not too loud, you didn’t want to wake your baby girl who was lying in her bassinet next to the couch.

Good evening everyone, it is yet again another brutal murder victim found in this abandoned house that you all see behind me. The victim, currently referred to as Jane Doe, has yet to be identified as her body was found burned beyond recognition. Authorities say they received a call from a distraught man who’d been walking his dog along the sidewalk when his dog got loose and ran inside the abandoned building upon calling and calling for his dog, the dog finally returned with what appeared to be a hand in its mouth. That’s when the witness immediately called 911 informing authorities of what his dog discovered. Again, the victim has not been identified yet, but upon an autopsy, authorities are hoping to identify the victim and get the answers they need. As you know this is the 15th body that has been discovered in the past four months. Authorities are saying this victim is somehow connected to the previous murders. However, they will need to dig deeper to know for sure what it is, or most importantly, who it is that they’re dealing with. They have advised young women between the ages of 25 to 30 to stay indoors between the time range of 9 to 11 pm as it appears this killer or killers are targeting that age range between that time range. Furthermore………….

You gasp as the new reporter goes on just as your husband comes strolling through the front entrance, whistling to himself. You momentarily turn your head to look at your husband taking off his drenched raincoat.

“Hey baby, sorry I’m late. Weather was crazy out there, but anyways I got our food.” He chuckles lowly, holding up the slightly wet grocery bag that contained your food.

“I’m just glad you’re home safely. You had me worried when you didn’t answer your phone.” You say softly as he takes his shoes off and walks into the living room, placing the food on the coffee table.

“Baby girl,” He says bending down to plant soft kisses to your lips before his eyes flicker to the TV.

“Hmmm…..another murder? What the hell is going on?” he says, shaking his head as he walks over to your sleeping daughter.

“I swear, it’s getting worse and worse. They say this is the 15th murder in the past four months. It’s getting scary out here.” You sigh as you watch him bend down to your daughter’s sleeping form and kiss her cheeks. She stirs in her sleep, a small smile on her face before she stills peacefully. He then walks back over to you and sits next to you, opening your meals.

“Mmm this looks good.” You say as you say a quick prayer before diving into your food.

You were devouring your food, but you looked over and your husband was staring intensely at the TV. You scrunch your eyebrows as you glance at the TV as the reporter is now talking of the 14 women who have been killed in the past four months. You shake your head not even imagining being in their shoes or those of their families. Who could do such horrible things to these women? It damn near made you scared to go outside, but then again, you couldn’t allow yourself to become paranoid.

After all, not only did you need to enjoy life, but you also had a job to fulfill. You were currently a registered nurse working at the local hospital. This job required a lot of you, but you thoroughly enjoyed it as you loved helping people, as cliché as it sounds. You’d be returning to work soon in another two weeks or so as your supervisor wanted you to take some time until you can get settled in as a new parent. Lord knows you loved your baby girl but dammit if she didn’t keep you and your husband up at all times of the night.

You turn your attention back to your husband and again, he’s staring blankly at the tv. You snap your fingers in his face, snapping him out of Lala land.

“You okay baby?” you question, rubbing his shoulder.

He nods his head, smiling over at you.

“Yeah, it’s just…..seeing horrible shit like this just makes me think of you and how crazy I’d go if something ever happened to me. It makes me wanna protect you even more…..people are crazy out here.” He says taking your hands into his and kissing them.

You smile at him planting a kiss on his lips, “Well, if anyone ever tried me, I know I have 6 foot 3, 265-pound wild Samoan to whip their ass.” You tease.

“You know it. Hahaha Let’s change the channel and watch a movie. Smile?” he grins, grabbing the remote.

“Ugh….I heard that movie was creepy.” You frown playfully.

“Don’t worry princess, you can cuddle with me.” Joe teases, as he flips through Netflix.

Two Weeks Later

You’ve finally returned to work after what felt like forever, every staff member greeting you with a warm welcome, having missed you just as much as you missed them. You’d just walked through the doors when your work bestie, Vallerie, greeted you with a bouquet of red roses and chocolate. You giggle, this girl was always spoiling you.

“Hey, my favorite baby mama! How’s my niece and bro-in-law?” she says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder, and walking alongside you.

“Girl they’re doing good. He’s actually off this week so he’ll be watching the little one until we can hire a babysitter.” You say as you both walk to the elevator to get onto the second floor in which you both worked. You were ecstatic that you’d be working nightshift with Vallerie because she always knew how to entertain you and make a long, boring shift go by.

“Girl I’m so glad we work together. We ‘bout to have some fun running off of Starbucks and adrenaline.” She giggles as you playfully roll your eyes at her.

“Chileeee, hopefully, there are no shenanigans tonight. I ain’t got time for these patient's attitudes tonight.” You say just as you two get on the elevator and you press the “2” button.

“Girl bye. Imma let ‘em know right now, don’t ask me for shit. I’m still a little hungover too.” She says, leaning her head against your shoulder.

“V, I’ve already told you about drinking before you get to work. One day they gon’ catch you and fire your ass.” You say sternly.

“And as soon as they do, I’m opening me an Only Fans account and selling feet pics to all the lonely weirdos.” She teases you as you both step off the elevator and onto the medical-surgical unit.

“Alright now…one day you gone get what you ask for. Ouch!” You grin pointing your finger at her as she bites it.

“I hope I do!” she laughs, as you both walk to the nurse’s desk immediately hearing call lights and bed alarms go off.

“Please tell me tonight is gonna be a good night. If not, I’m going back home.” You joke with the charge nurse, Carmen, who was tapping away at her computer.

She glances over at you before her eyes stretch in excitement.

“Heeey boo! We missed you so much! But unfortunately, I have some bad news.” She says pulling you into a hug as you playfully roll your eyes.

“Girl don’t tell me you’re giving me a bunch of mental patients.” You tease as she releases you.

“Naaah but it is gonna be a long and boring shift. Vallerie, you have seven patients already, all of them are pretty good, not requiring much. Y/n, you’re gonna be a sitter for one patient tonight.” Carmen says as Vallerie groans.

“Now how is it she come back and get only one patient?” Vallerie groans, rubbing her head.

“Calm down, V. She’s sitting with this patient as she’s good with the assault victims that we admit here,” Carmen says as she hands Vallerie her assignment charts.

“Oooh okay. Yeah, I think she’s more fit to do that than I am. But yeah, baby mama I’ll catch you in a minute, lemme see what these patients are about.” Vallerie says strolling off down the hall.

“Details.” You say as Carmen walks you down the opposite hall in which all the assault and mental patients are located.

“Yes, so she’s a 27-year-old female, African American admitted this afternoon after she was discovered unconscious behind a dumpster. She’s got slight bruising scattered all over her body, but she’s got a large bruise wrapped around her neck from where she was strangled. She’s very shaken up and was very uncooperative when she came to about an hour ago. The police were here about thirty minutes ago to investigate, but she would tell them anything. Listen, she’s very frightened, but I know you’ll take great care of her.” Carmen says as you nod your head.

“Girl so much is going on around here, makes me a little terrified.” You sigh as you stop in front of a room in which the nurse from the previous shift was watching the patient.

“She’s in here. Layla, this is Y/n. Y/n this is Layla. She’s one of the new nurses here. I’ll let you two do the shift report, so I’ll leave you to it. If you have any questions, lemme know.” Carmen says before strolling down the hall.

“Alright Layla, give me the run down. What am I dealing with?” You say as she smiles at you, pulling a chair next to her for you to sit.

“Okay so……”

She gives you the report on your patient and you couldn’t help but feel sorry for the poor woman. She was a young woman with no family, going in and out of foster homes which led her to being homeless. She then started prostituting for money. Now she’s known as a streetwalker. According to Layla, she’d read that she was a familiar face with the law, having been arrested several times in the past. She sounded like she was a handful. However, it wasn’t an unfamiliar task for you. Being a nurse for so long, you were used to all types of personalities and attitudes in the hospital. The more you read about her the more familiar she sounded. You swear you might have gone to school with her. Maybe you could ask, but of course, you didn’t want to stress her by asking unnecessary questions. You finished reading up on her chart before you decided to introduce yourself to her.

You knock on her door, making sure to approach slowly, not wanting to alarm her.

“C-come in.” you hear a tiny voice say as you walk into the dimly lit room.

“Hi….my name is Y/n, I’ll be your nurse for tonight, okay? Do you need anything right now?” you ask softly as you stand at the foot of the bed to see the woman curled up into a ball like an unborn child in the womb. You couldn’t help but notice she was shaking like a leaf. It made your heart crumble.

“N-no. Umm…actually, may I have some water, please? M-my throat is a little dry.” She whispers finally looking over at you. Her eyebrows scrunch up.

“Of course. I’ll be right back. Just a moment.” You say quietly walking out of there as the air was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. You were used to this though. Usually, patients are a little timid and quiet upon first meeting you, but then they slowly warm up to you once they are reassured you are there to help and not harm them.

You quickly grabbed her a cup of water and began your journey back to her room as your phone buzzed. You stop walking momentarily to pull your phone from your pocket. It’s a text message from your husband.

Hey baby, don’t mean to disturb you but I wanted to check on you.

You smile to yourself as you quickly text him back.

Work is fine so far. How’s my little nugget?

A minute later you get a text back,

She’s actually with my mom. She wanted to see her grandchild, so I just dropped her off. I’m just cruising around the city.

You giggle, shaking your head at your mother-in-law. She loved her new granddaughter and every chance she got; she’d spend time with her. It didn’t matter about the time or place.

Well enjoy yourself, and be safe okay? I love you. See you at 7 tomorrow morning. You text back.

Always, love you. Goodnight. <3

You get back to her room and give her the cup of water. You sit next to her bed as she quietly sips on her water. She kept looking down at her water and then back to you as if to study your face. She looked as if she wanted to ask you something but was too scared to do so. Maybe if you started a conversation, she’d warm up to you. She finished her cup of water before relaxing back in her bed.

“So…….” You say as your voice travels off.

“You look so familiar,” she says quietly.

You smile at her, “I was just saying the same thing about you.”

“What is your name again?” she asks as you answer her, “Y/n. Y/n Y/l/n.”

“D-did you go to Sapphire Hills High School?” she inquires, tilting her head at you.

“Why yes I did, did you?” you ask, getting comfortable in your chair.

“Yes, actually. Wait……you were a straight-A student. Very popular. Cheerleader, right? And….and you used to date the most popular boy in school. He was on the football team. Joe Anoa’i, right?” she says, sitting upright in her bed as if she cracked the code to the most precious puzzle.

“Haha Yes. Married him too.” You giggle holding up your hand to show her your ring delicately placed on your finger.

She pauses, looking a little surprised at this revelation. Married him? Surely, she hadn’t heard that right. You put your hand down, giving her a small smile. Had you said something wrong?

“Oh…..didn’t know he was married. But, I’m not surprised….you two were a cute couple in school. The talk of the whole school. So, ……how long have you two been married?” she asks, her shoulders slumping slightly which went unnoticed by you.

“Six years. Well, we’ll be celebrating six years next week.” You smile looking down at the ring he had specially made for you.

“Wow…that’s a very long time. A-any kids?” she asks as you nod your head, pulling out your phone to show her a picture of your baby girl.

“Yes, actually. Gave birth to her not long ago. She’s so precious.” You giggle, showing her a photo of your baby girl asleep.

“She’s so pretty…..” she says barely above a whisper.

“Thanks. She’s a daddy’s girl already. Got her dad wrapped around her tiny finger.” You grin, putting your phone back in your pocket.

“Haha yeah……” she says lowly, looking down at her fingers.

It grows silent before you cough slightly, wanting to continue the conversation.

“So…what about you? Married? Single? Kids?” you question, crossing your legs.

“Married? No. Kids? I do. A little girl………She’s three years old….. I miss her. Child protective services took her when they deemed me an unfit parent and her father not being a part of her life since I ran away from him…….” She answers, looking away at the window, her eyes seeming to water.

“Are you okay? Did I say something wrong? I’m so sorry. I-“she cuts you off.

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to get a little rest, please.” She says laying down in her bed and pulling the covers over her head as she turns her back to you.

You quietly nod your head and stand to your feet to exit her room. You hadn’t meant to upset her at all. You inwardly sigh as you exit her room to your little nurse’s station. You slump in your chair, feeling a headache form already. The last thing you wanted was to make a patient’s night worse than it already was. Minutes later Vallerie approaches you, her smile turning into a frown seeing the look on your face.

“Rough night already?” she says, taking a seat next to you.

“Girl….it’s gonna be a looooong night.” You say, rubbing your temples.

“Want some Doritos to get you through the night?” she says, opening a bag of Cool Ranch Doritos.

“Yeah…gimme some of those.” You sigh grabbing some of the delicious snack to soothe you.

Well…….that was unexpected…………………

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #wwe smut #roman reigns imagines #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns fluff

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