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#it's okay to drink/smoke his life away
izacore · 1 year
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I'm sorry, I'm just tired of having to read for 1000th time how all Louis does is chain smoking and drinking alcohol and acting like I'm supposed to find it cool/edgy/relatable or that these are normal habits excused by being British or whatever. At some point it 1) becomes caricatural 2) makes me start to think that he needs actual help and therapy to find different vices.
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moondirti · 2 months
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kyle yearns for his captain's approval. you're the perfect medium through which he can secure it.
featuring: gaz x fem!reader x price. very consensual. fondling. inspection. fluff. praise kink. objectification. cucking? anal play. mentions of dp and breeding. 4k words of nonsense.
when price asks gaz if he's got anyone at home, gaz answers.
truthfully. he'd be hesitant to admit that he does to anyone else – soap especially, what with his track record of worming his way into people's pants – but his captain is... his captain. jonathan price. a real force of nature, cursed with an uncanny determinism and a habit of getting what he wants regardless of if those around him are willing. gaz knows that price will find out eventually; when the ring he's been planning to purchase for months finds it's way onto your finger, and he requests a change be made to the dependants section of his paperwork. perhaps before then too, if he really did some digging. but gaz also knows that, if there were anyone to trust with this precious knowledge, it'd be him.
so, he tells him about the little number he's got tucked away in a home in south oxfordshire. it's the lazy afternoon before a big mission, and he shouldn't be drinking but he is, a tumbler cradled between his palms and the burn of rye whiskey loosening his tongue. price doesn't speak, just listens, as the sergeant gradually devolves into more and more detail about your meeting, your courtship, the work you distract yourself with when he's not around. and despite his reverence, he admits it all breathlessly, a sheepishness pervading every word. how is he expected to keep his composure when the air is so heavy? unrelenting scrutiny and the potent waft of cigar-smoke draw a hot flush to his skin, the older man humming every so often as a prompt for him to continue.
he wants to, oddly enough. gaz is a reticent man, second only to ghost when it comes to keeping his life private. but something about this circumstance has him ready to lay it all bare. he wants to tell price about how you kiss his neck, the wicked fucking ways in which you use your mouth to milk him dry. he wants to pull out his phone, scroll through the hidden album full of pictures of your tits, of home-made films that paint you in a cum-covered, dazzling light. he wants price to know that he chose right, wants to hear the praise whispered in his ear as his captain lays a sturdy clap onto his back.
instead, he shrugs.
"not much more to tell, cap."
"damn shame." price taps his cigar to rid of the ashes. "sounds like a proper match, garrick. good for you."
and it's enough. a big enough lump of wood to keep the needy fire in his belly roaring. he shifts in his seat to dissuade the heat, rubbing his jaw in contemplation like he hasn't already thought of a perfect way to reap more.
"tell you what, sir. we survive this next assignment, i'll bring you over to meet 'er."
it's a hairbreadth escape, but they do manage to make it back alive, albeit a bit more scarred than they once were. gaz gets home late at night to find you awake, waiting on him despite the incredibly short notice he'd given you for his arrival. it's there – in the foyer, his nose buried in your neck as you babble on about how much you missed him, and what you'll make for breakfast to celebrate, and questions like hey, are you okay? that cut looks fresh or when was the last time you slept? – that he breaks the news. you'll be having his captain over for dinner in two week's time.
of course you're overjoyed. you've been begging to meet the people he risks his life with ever since he told you what he did for work. the planning is immediate. you're dumping recipes on him the next morning, asking for his opinion on what appetiser, main, and dessert your guest of honour would enjoy best. and what's his poison, anyway? i can get my hands on a nice bottle of scotch if you think it'd be worth it. kyle doesn't have the heart to tell you that nothing you'll do would matter much, that price has already taken a liking to you. besides, if anything, your homemaking ability makes him chub up in his pants. best not to rob himself of that delight.
the night arrives as quick as it had been put forward. gaz has to dodge your attempts to put a tie on him, stifles your complaints with a kiss and insists that it's not that kind of dinner party. you're confused (bless you) but flit around making last minute preparations in your bustier midi-dress anyway, kitten-heels clicking against the polished hardwood floors. at a certain point, he can tell that you're fussing over nothing and pulls you by the hand to stand by the doorway with him.
"there's something i didn't mention earlier." he whispers when you're finally settled, tucking his index finger under your chin. your brows knit anxiously. he pecks the canyons between them, stroking your bottom lip until the frazzled energy bleeds from you.
"why would you wait? there's not enough t–"
"not exactly something you can plan for, doll. s'just gonna happen." when you fail to push him for more context, he sighs. "price is expecting to see you."
"sure... that's the whole point, isn't it?"
"no, sweetheart." gaz's free hand wraps around your waist, lowering until it reaches the plush sweel of your ass. his touch lays breadcrumbs for you to follow, leading you down the very depraved path he's trekked a million times the past few weeks. "i mean all of you."
your lips part in realization. oh. he's scared straight for a second, heart hammering like it always does when he reveals a darker fantasy to you. but you merely smile – anxious, sure, pupils clouded with fresh concern, but a smile nonetheless – and accept his admission gracefully.
"and you want me to let him?"
gaz nods. "if you'd please."
you place a chaste kiss on his cheek, careful not to smear your makeup onto his clean-shaven skin. "okay."
he visibly slackens, an edge of playfulness cutting it's way back into his tone. "what's say we take those panties off, make things easier when the time arrives?"
"can' remember the last time i had a beef welly this good, love. family recipe?"
"yes, actually! but it took me some time to perfect for my own. the original called for sherry in the duxelle, but i always thought wine was better suited."
kyle doesn't know if he's ever been more proud of you.
you're a vision. the paradigm of charm. he half feared things to would be awkward following your conversation at the doorway, but aside from the first few minutes of price's arrival – the time it took everyone to thaw the ice of unfamiliarity – you've been anything but stilted. in fact, he worries that you missed the true implication of his request – of the direction things will take later – given the way you laugh openly. the ease in which you bridge conversation topics. your attentiveness, eyes roving over both your boyfriend and his captain to ensure everyone has everything they need. you certainly don't act like a girl who's going to be nakedly appraised tonight. all the expected clumsiness, the stumbling over your own words, replaced instead by eloquence and quick wit.
sweet girl. bloody... beautiful, darling girl.
price seems to think so too. he chuckles heartily at the stories you offer of kyle failing learning to waterski during your anniversary trip to mauritius (and offers his own insight too, something along the lines of how you'd expect the sergeant to be better balanced, given he's survived hanging off a helicopter before). offers some solid advice on how to deal with the ostentatious coworker whose been bugging you for months. and when you question him about his personal life – a line every good soldier knows not to take with their CO, which has gaz wincing internally – all your guest offers is a genuine, crinkle-eye smile. no doubt appreciative of the non-intrusive manner you ask.
he shoots gaz a look before answering, and it's one full of tacky warmth. a look he's seen several times on the field, molasses sweet and satisfying, one that invades his private thoughts too often to admit. whose effect he knows only comes off in a cold shower, a quick pump to his cock if you're not around to help relieve it. something like approval. unspoken praise.
"wish i could say i've been blessed like the two of ya. married to my work, m'afraid."
"oh." you wave your arms, standing to clear the table of dirty plates. "don't be ridiculous, john. you're a wonderful man. put yourself out there and i'm sure it'll come to you." you say it like it's breathing, and just as easily prance away to the kitchen, your voice losing to the clatter of silverware in the sink. thus, when you yell out something about dessert (price is really only able to decipher i made madeira! over the illegible chorus of cabinets closing) kyle is the one to answer you. well-trained in untangling your voice from any sort of ruckus, poor cell reception and moans and drunk gibberish and the obstructive fabric of his hoodie when you sob into his chest.
"maybe later, doll!" he voices back, scratching the back of his neck as he takes in the food still laid out in front of them. picked apart by hungry forks but still, enough to make up days worth of leftovers.
"mm. the girl stuffed me full, garrick." price stretches from his seat. "if i didnt know any better, i'd reckon you lot were fattening me up to feast on me come winter."
gaz stores the remains of your meal into nearby tupperwares then follows suit, urging his captain to follow him into the lounge. "please," he laughs, nodding when the man pulls a cigar from his pocket and twists it in a silent question. "she thinks they starve us out there. tries to make up for it by feedin' me into oblivion when i'm home."
"speak for yourself. i could do with a home-cooked meal every now 'n' then." the captain takes a puff of the maduro between his fingers, lets the smoke cloud his hindbrain. your house smells so much like you, like kyle and you – warm laundry and anise and jasmine – that he feels a quick lick of guilt at ruining the fragile balance of it. too little too late, too – the scent of leather and oily spice pervades the space.
but you don't mention it once you waltz back in, smoothing your hands across the back of your dress. "if we don't get a chance to try the cake tonight, remind me to send you home with some, john." gaz poorly conceals his laugh with a cough, sinking into the cushion when you shoot him an offended look. "what?"
"nothing," he pouts, then hides his next words behind the back of his hand, whispering to price. "i told you."
"i can hear you, you twat!" you flick his ear, brows furrowed in faux irritation as your boyfriend wraps an arm around your legs.
"i know! hey– i know, gorgeous. was only joking." his forehead nudges your tummy, restless until you comb your hand over his tight curls. "th'captain knows that too. isn't that right, sir?"
"of course."
"you laugh now, but wait until you're halfway through a month long mission. you'll wish you had me around!"
"don't i know it." kyle murmurs, the fingers at the back of your thigh slowly creeping upward. the skirt of your dress slips, climbs up your legs with the motion of his forearm, and all too suddenly he remembers your lack of undergarments.
fuck. he almost forget he pocketed your panties. and you... you've been so natural, such a good hostess despite the cold brush of air constantly on your cunt. it flips a primal switch inside him – that same trigger that'd prompted mention of this night in the first place. blood rushes to his cock so fast it hurts, desperation flooding his lungs until the only thing he can breathe out is your name.
"hmmm." you smile in return. and if price weren't here, he'd bury his nose into the canyon between your legs and take a deep inhale of your natural musk.
but he is, and so all gaz can manage is a quiet: "how about you show the captain our little surprise?"
"oh?" the man in question hums. dangerously relaxed, two legs spread and his posture curved as he watches the little display you put on for him. "what's this about a surprise, then?"
you bite your lip, raking your nails down from your boyfriend's neck to his shoulder and placing a tight, reassuring squeeze there before breaking away. nothing is said as you push an ottoman between price's knees, making sure it's steady before pushing him to rest against the back of the couch.
"do you like my dress?" you practically purr, bending over as to pronounce your tits. kyle's breath stutters, watching for the way superior's eyes take in your form. gratification swells in his belly when he just smiles, patting your hip.
"s'that really a question that needs to be asked, lovie? you know the answer."
an adorable mix between a shrug and giggle is all you give. "kyle says you want to see me."
"aye. i do."
"and i wanna make him happy."
"same for me."
and kyle thinks he could just cum in his pants if this keeps up. he feels filthy, both an observer and the main act in this spectacle. the knowledge that his captain doesn't just want you, the love of his life, but him too works away at him, hollowing him out until he's nothing but a husk of docile yearning.
"so, what'll it be?" you say.
"turn around. elbows on the ottoman, knees on either side of my thighs."
you obey instantly, lamplight catching the heated flush of your skin while you position yourself according to price's wishes. your back arcs so that your ass is prominently within his view, plump even beneath the loose material of your dress.
"kyle."
"sir." he coughs, shifting to conspicuously adjust the aching mass tucked in his waistband.
"on your knees, son. righ' here beside me. when i ask a question, you're expected to answer."
"yes, sir."
"got tha' that, lovie?" he grunts. "respond now, and then it's silence from you."
"okay!" you wiggle your hips, forgetting yourself for a moment. "sir!"
this gaz can do. following orders. grounded pragmatism, however far this is from a professional setting. he figures price has gleaned as much, has given him this task so he doesn't flounder off track throughout the evening and ruin things for everyone. the hard part is over then, all of that hesitant foreplay – of opening up, getting you to agree, of the stretch of time it took for everyone to warm up to one another – wrapped up for something simpler.
all he has to worry about is answering promptly and correctly while he watches his captain–
flip your skirt over your hips.
a low whistle. then, two hands on your backside, kneading the soft flesh there. working either globe apart like dough, the glistening seam of your most private parts spread open to prying eyes. price appraises your cunt for the first time like he would a winning showdog, or the sky on a particularly pleasant day. all utilitarian-like. if it weren't for the bulge in his trousers, your boyfriend would almost be offended.
"no panties, hm?"
"no-" you start, squeaking out an apology when you earn a firm swat to your thigh.
"i asked her to go without them tonight. thought... you'd appreciate it, sir." kyle replies, swallowing the saliva that arises upon seeing your lips flutter.
"good lad." a hot flash of arousal breaks across his chest. the captain lets go of his grip on your ass, watching how the fat jiggles back into place, then returns to squeezing it. "surprised i couldn't smell 'er, way she was dancing around us all night."
it isn't a question, so gaz stays quiet.
the groping continues. sometimes its light – brushes of calloused palms across the area, disturbing the stillness like a rock skipping over water. you ripple when he pokes, shake when he taps. other times, and increasingly once price notes your resilience to pain, it borders on rough. moulding your flesh into compact pinches, jabbing his thumb into the softness so hard it'll bruise. you take it all with grace, a low whine building in your chest that he let's go unpunished.
"she's taking this well. you rough her up often?"
"when she asks, sir." he thinks for a moment, catching your wily smile from the corner of his eye. minx. "likes it more than i do giving it to her."
"need someone to take care of the both of ya." price chuckles, then moves on, oblivious to the way the sergeant's hips buck at his implication. or, maybe he notices – probably does – and stores it away for another time. "looks like a greedy little pussy to me." his thumbs hook onto either side of your labia, pulling it apart like fresh bed to reveal the sloppy mess between. your clit is enflamed, angry for being neglected for so long. if you were allowed to speak, kyle can guarantee with almost a hundred percent certainty that you'd be whining to be touched. "look a' tha'." price's accent grows thicker. "fat little thing just jumping for attention."
he curls a finger, then flicks the swollen bud. a loud moan bursts from you, your face falling between your forearms as you hold yourself back from begging. gaz would've acquiesced by now, would've rubbing the bundle of nerves raw the second you fanned your pretty lashes up at him.
but price snaps it three more times in rapid succession, which apparently is too much for you to handle because you yell. "p-please!"
he remedies your slip up with a slap to the same area. the crack on impact echoes long enough to tell him that one hurt. "shhh. so spoiled, sergeant. how often do you make her cum?"
"a-at least three times a go, sir."
"what's the record?"
"eight."
"and the longest you've held off?"
kyle hesitates, bowing his head for the reprimand he knows is coming. "never... never tried. sir."
"tch."
a precision blow. swift but petrifying. the captain's managed to find both your loose strings in a matter of minutes, tugging to see them come undone on his lap. gaz has got the unwavering urge to rest his chin on his strong thigh, put it on the record that he isn't weak willed, just indulgent. something that can be easily remedied, with his guidance. if he'd let him.
and you...
you're gyrating your hips, begging for some pressure on your aching centre. price gives it to you, though not in the way you expect, pinching your clit and tightening his hold until you're motionless, muscles trembling but otherwise perfectly poised.
so the inspection continues. he fans out your vulva, exposing the hole that clenches around nothing. a laugh wracks his frame at the sight, the aftermath of it husky. amused. "begging to be filled, a'right. how many cocks has she had in 'ere?"
"just mine, sir. and her toys."
"how about at once?"
kyle's never been so bold with you; has always held back that godless part of him, that needy dog he sees his comrades often embrace. pure, unfettered degeneracy. you're soft, and pretty and good and a high-functioning member of society. and he's never once wanted to see you hurt, uncomfortable or bite-mark-bloodied, despite the way his mind screams at him to at least ask. see if you'd be willing to appease that side of him.
yet you visibly shiver at the thought proposed by price, gooseflesh pocking your skin, and he knows he should have thrown caution to the wind.
"one, sir."
he watches the man's finger outline the circumference of your opening, dipping in by the millimetre to test the waters. "shame. could probably stretch her out. get 'er nice and loose for whenever you wan' something to keep you warm without the commitment."
the finger plunges in.
gaz watches you swallow his superior to the last knuckle in what must be a world-record, no time to blink lest he misses it. price goes with the motion, setting his free hand onto your ass to keep you steady as he wiggles his digit to make space amidst the tight embrace of your walls. or, that's what he thinks is happening. the only indication he has of things are the lewd squelches your cunt emits and the face of pure ecstasy you pull. but he's well-versed enough in your bodily functions that he's sure of his estimate.
"scratch wha' i said. nothing beats this." his superior groans, and for the first time that night, adjusts himself in his pants. kyle wishes he would pull it out, allow himself the relief of freeing a raging hard-on from its confines. but kyle also wishes that he could be given something to do, something with his mouth perhaps, to sate the unaddressed thrill in his bones. it wouldn't take a smart man to figure out that both wishes are very much correlated. "fucking suffocating clutch. wouldn' pull out if my life depended on it. pussy like this isn' made for that, garrick."
"sir?"
"you cum inside her, lad?"
"i- yes. i-i do. she's on birth control."
"best to see to that, then." he says, like the contraceptive is an obstacle and not a consolation. you release another, long-winded moan, to which price pulls his finger out to pat your vulva. like taming a wild animal. "though what i said still stands. could always do with a loose hole."
his hand inches up.
this time, it's gaz who groans.
loudly. his eyes fluttering halfway shut, hands tugging at the tight fabric over his groin. you throw a curious look over your shoulder, concern glossing your pupils until you confirm that the source of the sound isn't pain, but pleasure. ecstasy at finally having his wants vocalised, that incessant impulse that nags and nags and nags anytime he's fucking you from behind, tight rim practically leering up at him, tempting him to thrust upwards and 'accidentally' slip in.
"you like that, sergeant? hm? ever use this asshole? it looks unbroken to me."
"y-you're... not wrong, sir. i–"
"but you want to?" he finishes for him, scooping some of the abundant slick from your cunt and slathering it onto your back entrance. it's not enough lubrication to do anything but press one thumb in, but he repeats the process to push the other in alongside it.
"yeah."
you give him a look that can't mean anything except we'll talk about this later and he can bloody kiss price if he was given permission to, if not for anything but helping him open this impossible subject with you.
"we'll see to tha' some other day, then."
his thumbs retreat. your hole winks shut again. gaz is torn between looking at you or his captain, but the latter man robs him of the indecision by bringing his dominant index and middle fingers to his lips. they're shiny with the remnants of your fluids, as if he needed any incitement to wrap his mouth around the digits. he works at them until price's fingers prune, laving his tongue around the knuckles, against the nail beds, all the way through to the fold of skin between them.
so desperate to please, to see to it that 'some other day' is everyday henceforth.
a future with price by your sides. beyond just the field. the bite in your supple existence. spice supporting anise and jasmine, some aphrodisiac blend that'll carry you through to the end of your lives, happy. sated. a mediator. commander. captain. his captain.
"that's a good boy."
he could really get used to this.
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cameronluvr · 9 days
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BABY TRAPPED — dark!rafe x fem reader
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summary: rafe purposely gets you pregnant against your own will after you choose the pogues instead of him.
warnings: 18+ !!, DUBCON, forced pregnancy, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, dark!rafe, arguing, fighting, choking, SMUT, fingering, slapping, unprotected sex (p in v) forced sex, jealous!rafe, kinda stalker!rafe, kidnapping(?), creampie, teen pregnancy. (lmk if anymore!)
: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ PART 2
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you had been at john b’s chateau for most of the day hanging out with your friends, but you’d promised your parents you’d be home before midnight. looking at the time on your phone, you noticed it was 11:13 pm.
you’d been drinking a little bit, and so had your friends, so driving home wasn’t an option. “guys, i’m gonna need to leave soon” you say over the mild volume of music playing.
“why?” kiara asks. “my parents told me i had to be home before 12. they’re kinda worried about me because of the whole.. you know.. rafe thing” you reply.
over the past few weeks you’d been going through a rough breakup with rafe. you couldn’t handle him anymore. his anger, his jealousy, his everything. he was no good for you anymore, and with the whole rafe vs pogues situation, you had to pick a side. your boyfriend or your best friends.
you had to pick your friends. there was no other choice, no other way out. rafe had tormented your friends for months. he pulled his gun on them, he beat them up, he attempted to kill kiara and his own sister sarah. and he almost killed you.
you’d lost track of how many fights you had with him, how many times he hit you and you hit him back. the screaming wars you’d have always ended up with him choking you or slapping you, and ward having to physically pull him away from you.
you just couldn’t put up with him anymore. he was manipulative, toxic, and most of all abusive. your friends knew about all of this, and tried so hard to get you away from him, but you couldn’t escape from him. he’d always convince you otherwise, guilt trip you, lie to you, twist your words…
“ya’ want me to walk you home?” jj asks, sitting beside you, smoking his blunt. you think about it for a second, but decline his offer. “thanks, but i’m okay, really. i’ll be fine” you nod and smile. “you sure?” sarah asks from across the room as they all practically look at you as if you were crazy. rafe was crazy, and if he saw you alone, only god knows what he would do…
“yeah, i’m good. i think i need to be alone anyway. take a nice walk by myself” you shrug. you hadn’t really had much alone time in months, considering you had a boyfriend glued to your hip out of distrust.
“okay, well, please call us if you need us, m’kay?” sarah says, walking over to you to hug you. she’s worried for you the most, you’re her best friend and her own brother is ruining your life. “i will, promise” you smile, standing up to hug her tightly.
“love you, y/n” kiara says with a smile as you walk out the door, saying bye to them all. you blow a kiss to kie before shutting the door behind you. they all know you’re going through a tough time, so they’re trying their best to be there for you and look out for you. they all love you.
walking home now, you stroll down the dark, long road ahead, with nothing surrounding you but tall trees and dim streetlights. no people, no lit-up houses, just dark and quiet streets with people in bed.
you walk for ten more minutes before you hear a car approaching from behind you. you give it no thought though, not wanting to worry yourself. the car gets closer, as if it were going to drive straight past you, but suddenly, you hear the car slowing down and eventually stopping right next to you. you don’t want to look, but you have to.
your heart sank into your chest when you noticed rafe’s black range rover, right as the window rolled down. it was rafe. “y/n get in.” his tone demanding and angry. “no, leave me alone.” you quickly turn around, power walking away. however, he only follows you. he slowly drives, following you, speeding up and slowing down whenever you do.
“y/n just get in i wanna talk” he says out the window, resting his arm on it as he watches you, attempting to talk to you. “rafe, leave me the fuck alone.” your voice gets louder, but you’re not yelling, yet. “save yourself the hassle and get in for fuck’s sake” he says, getting more frustrated by the second.
“no” you say, not looking in his direction at all. “oh my god” he says, sighing before putting the car in park and getting out. “no, go away!” you say, attempting to run but he grabs you before you can. you thrash around in his arms before he picks you up and drags you to his car.
“put me down!” you yell at him, trying to fight him but he is much stronger than you are. he opens the passenger door, shoving you inside before quickly getting in the drivers seat and locking the doors.
“what the fuck are you d—” you scream at him before his hand roughly covers your mouth, shutting you up. “i just wanted to talk, but you always have to make it hard, don’t you?” he says, eventually letting go of your mouth and seeing a mark left over from how tight his grip was.
“i don’t want to fucking talk! you yell as he rolls the windows all the way up so nobody can hear you fussing. “i don’t care. who the fuck do you think you are?” he yells at you, making you flinch. “what?” your eyebrows furrow.
“choosing those fucking trash pogues over me. are you serious? dumping me for them?” he argues. you’ve had this argument with him plenty of times, he seems to not be able to let it go. or let you go. “rafe. i didn’t want to be your girlfriend anymore, okay? you’re abusive, you’re mean, you’re—” you say, only to be cut off by his laughter. “abusive? for wanting to protect you? for wanting the best for you? right” he squints his eyes. “wanting the best for me? are you serious? you’ve done nothing but hurt me, and hurt my friends, including your own sister, by the way!” you argue, but he scoffs and tuts, as if they were nothing.
“because i told you so many fucking times to stay away from them, didn’t i?” he screams in your face, watching as you flinch with fear. “yeah, you did, but they are my friends, rafe, sarah is my best friend and you tried to kill her? she’s your fucking sister you should love her more than you love me” you say, voice getting higher out of frustration for him. how can he be so naive and cruel?
“her? she’s no sister of mine. that bitch has always been against me” he scoffs, speaking so lowly of his own little sister. “no she hasn’t, rafe!” you try to tell him, but every word that comes out of your mouth is a lie according to his delusions.
“right, whatever.” he rolls his eyes at you and your ‘lies’, but he just doesn’t want to accept the truth. he’s the problem, he turned everyone against himself. “i love you, yeah? i never stopped” he suddenly says, looking at you.
“well i have.” you say, but hearing those words were gut wrenching to him. you crossed the line. he unexpectedly and quickly reaches over, grabbing you by the throat and squeezing his fingers.
“i never wanna hurt you, y/n. you make me do it. i want to love you, but when you’re running off with your little friends behind my back, you make it hard to trust you, yeah?” he explains in his usual manipulative tone.
“rafe…” you force out, feeling as his grip tightens, his nails basically digging into your skin. “can you let me love you like i want to? like i’ve been trying to?” he asks, watching as your face turns redder and redder.
he loves watching you struggle, it was his favorite part of having power over you. it’s like it turns him on to hurt you. “please.. stop…” you struggle to say as he just keeps begging for your love.
“y/n, let me show you how much i really love you. please?” he asks softly, looking at you with adoration as if his own hand isn’t almost causing you to lose consciousness. he was psychotic. “ok.. ok.. yeah.. just let me go” you choke, nodding your head as fast as you can. you didn’t want to agree, but you had to otherwise he wasn’t going to stop.
and who knows what he would’ve done if you had passed out? you’d dread to think. “yeah? atta’ girl. i knew you’d come to terms with me sooner or later” he says, smiling as if he didn’t force the right answer out of you. he lets go of your throat, loving the sound of you gasping for air and regaining your breath.
you wanted to hit him so bad, you wanted to insult him and call him names but most importantly, you didn’t want him to actually kill you. “let’s go somewhere private, hm?” he suggests, like you could say no. you stay silent in his passenger seat, nodding at everything he’s saying, submitting to your fear of him.
he puts the car into gear and begins driving off. he drives five minutes down the road before turning down an off road path which lead to the lake, but he stopped in the secluded path surrounded by more trees, and more darkness.
turning his engine off, he turns to face you. “do you love me?” he asks. you’re terrified to answer. you’d be lying if you said yes, but if you said no, you’d find out. “…yes” you gulp, fearing him deeply. “good girl” he smirks, smelling your fear like a dog could.
he loves it. he loves you being afraid to say something he doesn’t want to hear, that’s the first step to being the perfect girlfriend in his eyes, you always know the right answer.
he turns in his seat to face you, reaching his hand over to your thigh. he rubs it, trailing his hand up and closer to your pussy, but you shift your legs the other way to move his hand away, making him grab your thigh and moving it back to where it was.
“don’t act like you don’t want it. you just said you love me” he leans over, darkly whispering in your ear which sent shivers down your spine. “i.. i do” you lie, not wanting to send him over the edge. he smirks at your words, leaning his head down to your neck to kiss it. you don’t want his touch, but you need it.
“rafe…” you whisper, trying your best not to want it but it’s difficult when he’s kissing your neck and moving his hand up your thigh again, only this time you don’t move your legs when he gets close to your pussy. you’re wearing jeans, so you feel his hand unbuttoning them which made you nervous, but you let it happen anyway.
“what baby?” he whispers, lifting his head from your neck to look at you. “i—” you say, cut off by the feeling of his cold hand slipping into your jeans. you jump at the temperature of his skin, which made him laugh. “come on, just take it” he licks his lips, looking at yours before kissing them. you kiss him back, and eventually start making out with him.
mid kiss, his hand slips into your panties, making you hum a moan. “you like that?” he asks, rubbing circles on your clit before breaking the kiss. “mhm” you hum, but his other hand reaches behind your head and grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back. “use your words, princess” he tells you, his dark eyes staring into yours. “…yes.” you hesitate to say, but you go along with it for your own safety and his sanity.
“hmm.. good” he smirks, letting go of your hair and kissing you again before his hand slid down your pussy, to your hole. you gasp at his sudden movement, but he chuckles at you. “you’re so wet. i’m always turning you on, huh?” he says, opening his mouth and mocking your gasp.
you chuckle too, wanting him to know you’re on the same page. after seconds of his fingers teasing your hole, he slides two of them into you. you gasp, moaning as his fingers fill you up to his knuckles. “so deep..” you moan, tensing up in your seat at his touch.
but it wasn’t long before he had you stripped off and sitting on his lap with the seat pushed all the way back. “fuck” he moans at the sight of your pretty tits, his hands grabbing your ass cheeks.
“if we do this… will you leave me alone after?” you ask, terrified to say but it needed to be said. “yeah, of course, i promise” he says like it’s nothing, like he didn’t even hear those words come out of your mouth. you were expecting a different reaction, but he had a different plan.
you felt like you had to have sex with him one last time for him to be able to move on from you. or so you thought that’s how it would be. “i love you, but if i need to leave for you to be happy, then i will” he says, almost believably.
but that was a lie.
pulling his boxers off allowed his hard dick to spring out, hitting your leg. you both giggle before starting to make out again, where his hands slid from your ass cheeks to your hips, his fingers twirling the sides of your panties before pulling them down and off your feet.
“ride me, princess” he says, both of your warm areas touching. you nod, lifting yourself up and positioning yourself above his cock before his hands roughly gripped your waist, pulling you to sit down on it.
you let out a loud moan of pain and pleasure. “fuuuck” he drags, closing his eyes as he pulled you up and down, choosing the speed and roughness for you. your moans cried out, you didn’t know if it hurt or felt good more.
“i missed you so much. i missed this pussy” he tells you, his hands roaming your naked back as his dick harshly thrusts up into you. “i missed you” you say, knowing you didn’t mean a single word. your horniness and desire to please him took over.
“you’re mine, baby” he tells you, his fingernails digging into your hips, making you cry out. he was so good at pleasing your pussy that you ruled out the pain he caused. “…always” you say, starting to question whether or not he was being honest about leaving you alone.
his pace is rough, he’s fucking you so harshly that you don’t think he’s ever gone this hard on you before. it hurts, but it hurts so good. “ow.. fuck.. rafe” you moan loudly like a porn star. “that’s it, baby” he says, feeling closer and closer to coming each time he thrust up into you.
your legs start to burn and ache, and he can tell by how much your legs are shaking. so he pulls you off of him, and guides you into the back seats where he climbs over after you.
he lays you down on your back, spreading your bodies over the three seats. he positions his cock near your pussy again, before sliding in with no warning. you moan, wrapping your arms around his back and gripping his shoulders. “fuckkk” he moans in your ear, making you much wetter. no matter how much you hate rafe cameron, his moans were your weakness.
the rougher and meaner he got, the more aroused he was. it wasn’t long before he started choking you, and slapping you around. it’s what he does during sex. he loves the power, he loves the dominance he has over you. you allowed it, though, because this was the last time. right?..
minutes later, you you felt him speeding up and becoming more tense, which meant he was gonna finish any second now. you, however, weren’t even close to finishing. it did feel good, but it didn’t change your feelings for him. you can’t come over somebody you hate so much.
“fuck baby.. ‘m gonna cum…” he says, twitching his dick as he empties his load into you. you moan at the feeling of his warm cum filling you up and leaking out after. he slowly pulls out, smirking knowing he’s hiding a huge secret from you.
he snuck into your house a few days ago while you were out with the pogues, and swapped your birth control pills for fake ones. but you had no idea…
it wasn’t until two weeks later when you were throwing up in your toilet, and crying your eyes out when you realized you’d missed your period. “fuck” you say, grabbing an emergency pregnancy test from the cabinet above the sink. you had them hidden in there just in case.
you take the pregnancy test, pacing around your bathroom for five minutes straight, waiting for the results. boom. the alarm you’d set on your phone goes off, five minutes is up. you switch the alarm off and gulp, slowly reaching for the pregnancy test. you pick it up, and gasp when you read the answer.
POSITIVE.
what the fuck are you supposed to do now?…
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NOT PROOFREAD. probably some mistakes, but my FIRST smut writing?!?!😩😩 plssssss lmk what y’all think! <333
@cameronluvr
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softspiderling · 1 month
Text
illicit affairs - part one | r.c.
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summary:
“I’ll be upstairs with Monique, a’ight?” he said, muttering in your ear. “Are you okay getting the drinks to the boys?”
“Yeah yeah,” you huffed with a wave. “Go on. Be safe.”
Rafe smirked at you, ignoring how Monique was staring daggers at you. “Come get me if anything’s wrong, you hear me precious?”
OR; Topper gets duped by a pretty “bartender”, Rafe (almost) has another hook up, and you're trying to tell yourself that this is enough.
pairing: rafe cameron x reader
warnings: mention of drugs and alcohol (weed!), this chapter has no smut, but the later parts will so 18+ MDNI!
word count: 2,5k
author's note: wait... is this finally the first chapter of illicit affairs?🤭 yes it is!!! ik i've been teasing it for so long but it's finally hereee!!! inspired by my own tom holland fic (don't talk to me pls) and it has evolved into a series... i hope you love it so much!!!
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
part one: "don't call me kid"
Women and men can’t be “just friends”.
You had always hated that saying. Like, why the hell couldn’t men and women be friends? All three of your best friends were guys, and you didn’t even remotely want to be anything more than friends with any of them.
Okay, maybe you wouldn’t mind being more than friends with one of them.
Bane of your existence.
Pain in the ass.
Annoying as hell.
Your best friend, Rafe Cameron.
You tried so hard to not be in love with him, to only be his friend. Mostly because it would make your life so much less complicated, but also because you hated proving that saying right by being in love with your guy best friend.
“Hey, you still with us?”
“What?”
Rafe stared at you with a frown, before he plucked the joint from your lips.
“You nearly smoked the entire thing by yourself. What’s got you thinking so hard?”
He raised an eyebrow at you while taking a hit from the joint, barely pulling it from his lips before Kelce snagged it from him.
“Greedy bitch,” Rafe huffed before he turned his attention back to you. “You tired, precious? Want to leave?”
You rolled your eyes at the nickname - despite the long tradition of it - and shook your head. “Nah. It’s not even one. And Topper hasn’t made a fool of himself yet.”
“Fuck you,” Topper shot back immediately, moving his cup out of the way when you reached for it. “No, no drinks for mean girls.”
“Come on, don’t be such an asshole,” you whined, smacking your mouth a little to get rid of the dryness the joint has left. Making grabby hands at the cup, you annoyed Topper until he finally gave in, handing you his cup. You took a big gulp, before you pulled a face, pushing the cup back into his hands, barely able to swallow whatever the hell he was drinking.
“Ew, what is that?”
“Some girl in the kitchen made it for him,” Rafe told you, snickering. “I don’t think he was even watching what she was pouring into his cup. Too entranced by her pretty eyes.”
“She said she’s a bartender,” Topper said defensively and you only snorted. He made it far too easy for girls to mess with him.
“Top, I love you,” you said, getting to your feet and straightening your clothes in the process. “But please, you can’t keep falling in love with every pretty girl who pays attention to you.”
“But I’ve been in love with you for six years precious,” Topper proclaimed as he clutched his chest melodramatically, “When will you give me a chance?”
You only scoffed at his antics, twisting your hair up before putting a hair clip in it. “You wish,” you said, slapping his hands away. “I’ll get us some new drinks.”
“I’ll come with,” Rafe offered.
“Can you get me one too?” Kelce piped up and you pinched his cheek, making him wince.
“Vodka soda?”
Kelce gave you a dirty look, rubbing his cheek before he nodded petulantly. You gave him a thumbs up, grabbing Rafe by the wrist to drag him inside.
It was incredibly packed as soon as you entered the house from the backyard, the body heat from about 50 drunk people raising the temperature indoors and it smelled like the inside of a beer keg. Rafe kept his hand on your lower back, to not lose track of you as you carefully weaved between the people on your way to the kitchen. You tried not to get distracted by how his hand occasionally brushed over your exposed skin whenever your top rode up. He had always been this way. Running a hand through Topper’s hair to annoy him, clasping Kelce’s shoulder whenever he drank too much and was hanging over the toilet, squeezing Wheezie’s arm in a quick hug, and keeping his hand on your lower back whenever the two of you were walking somewhere crowded. He liked to show affection the way his father failed to do. So you refused to overthink it when his hands splayed over your skin, despite your heart racing whenever it happened.
Losing yourself to your thoughts for a second, you didn’t pay any attention when some guy walked into you, too busy talking with his friend to watch where he was going. You nearly went flying face down on the ground, but Rafe’s hand quickly found your waist, steadying you.
“Hey, watch it!” Rafe snapped at the guy, who only raised his hands in defense.
“I’m fine,” you insisted, gently pushing his hands off of you. “We’re nearly there, don’t start a fight.”
Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Rafe giving the guy a stink eye before you reached the kitchen, where it luckily wasn’t as cramped, with only a handful of people mingling and talking. Grabbing four cups off of the stack on the kitchen island, you pursed your lips as you let your eyes roam over the options, rows, and rows of alcohol.
“Do you want a beer or something harder?”
“Beer, I think I might have to drive us home,” Rafe replied, grabbing the vodka bottle that was on his left, and handing it to you.
You unstacked the cups on the counter and poured vodka into three of them. Rafe reappeared by your side - not that you had noticed him leaving, you were too focused on making sure there was an equal amount of vodka in all the cups - sipping on a beer, a jug of cranberry juice in his other hand. You grabbed the jug out of his hand, wordlessly, filling your cup to the brim.
“Where’s the club soda?” you asked, glancing at him over your shoulder. Rafe only shrugged.
“Couldn’t find it.”
“Here’s club soda, Rafe,” a flirty voice suddenly said, and Monique Colver batted her long, fake eyelashes at Rafe.
“Thanks Monique,” Rafe replied with a smirk, taking the bottle to give it to you, which you accepted wordlessly.
Here we go.
“Call me Moni.”
“Moany?” you muttered under your breath while you filled the other two cups, barely wincing when Rafe gave you a side eye, acting like he was listening to every word that left Monique’s lips.
“- but I told my dad I really wanted to travel a bit so he got a me a trip to Europe.”
“Oh yeah? What countries you tryna see?”
Ugh.
You downed your entire cup in one go, already refilling it when you heard “show you” and “upstairs” and you rolled your eyes. You lifted your cup to your lips, basically putting your entire face in it, really, anything to remove yourself from this conversation, only pausing with drowning yourself when you felt Rafe’s hand on your lower back. Again.
“I’ll be upstairs with Monique, a’ight?” he said, muttering in your ear. “Are you okay getting the drinks to the boys?”
“Yeah yeah,” you huffed with a wave. “Go on. Be safe.”
Rafe smirked at you, ignoring how Monique was staring daggers at you. “Come get me if anything’s wrong, you hear me precious?”
You flipped him off and he took that as a sign to leave, following Monique as she dragged him upstairs.
“Bitch,” you muttered to yourself, grabbing the three cups on the counter and heading back outside to the boys.
It was a miracle that not a single drop was spilled on the way, probably because you were too busy trying not to imagine what was going on upstairs.
“There she is!” Kelce greeted you. “Almost died of thirst. What took you so long?”
“Don’t ask,” you muttered, handing them the drinks and Topper eyed you suspiciously. Acting like you didn’t notice it, you plopped yourself into the empty seat next to them, taking a big gulp from your drink.
“Where’s Rafe?”
“Where do you think?” you said with a sigh, giving him a look.
You weren’t jealous.
Okay, you were.
But it wasn’t the main reason why you were so annoyed.
You just hated it when the girls Rafe hooked up with always treated you like you were their competition, like you would take him away from them.
Which, fair, you could if you wanted. If you faked an injury or being sick, Rafe would immediately drop them to get you home.
But he’d never want you the way he wanted them. Yes, you knew he loved you, and yes he was your best friend, but you couldn’t help but want more. Maybe that was selfish. You let out a small sigh, leaning your head on Kelce’s shoulder, missing the way he glanced at Topper. Lucky for you, they decided against pushing it. Taking a sip from your drink, you tried not to think about Monique and Rafe. It didn’t help that the vodka and the joint were starting to work, spreading into your system, making you feel all warm and woozy, your head cloudy.
Your eyebrows shot up when Rafe suddenly appeared, squeezing himself between you and the armrest, his hair disheveled. You were still stewing, looking at him with a crease on your forehead.
“That was quick,” you noted. “Where did you leave Moany?” You couldn’t help but ask, putting emphasis on her nickname.
Rafe only shook his head, plucking your cup out of your hand to take a big gulp.
“That man is traumatized,” Kelce pointed out, nodding in understanding like he didn’t need any further explanation.
“Wait, Monique Colver?” Topper asked. “She’s pretty, isn’t she?”
Rafe held up his hand, stopping him. “Yes, but that wasn’t the problem.”
You rolled your eyes, already knowing what was coming. He was such a drama queen sometimes.
“What did she do?”
Rafe didn’t answer, taking another sip of the drink, before he winced. “She told me to call her precious.”
“What?!”
“HUH??”
“Ew!”
“You know what’s the worst?” Rafe groaned, rubbing a hand over his face. “I didn’t even get off.”
“That’s your biggest problem??”
He rolled his eyes at you, shifting on the sofa. “Pretty big, yeah.”
“Ugh.”
“Can we get back to Monique wanting you to call her precious?” Kelce interjected. “Did Rafe call you precious in front of her?”
“Yes, very clearly. There’s no way she didn’t hear,” you replied.
“Maybe she hates your guts and she wanted to roleplay being you while Rafe abuses her in a sex-way.”
“Kelce, literally never open your mouth again,” you groaned, covering your ears with your hands, while Topper cracked up, Rafe only pulled a face.
“It makes sense,” Topper insisted. “Like, precious is the only girl who’s been around us, or well, Rafe, constantly. You know, apart from Sarah and Wheezie. Maybe that was Monique’s way of telling you she wants to be your girlfriend.”
“What?” Rafe asked, his forehead creased.
You snorted, shaking your head. “You’re giving her way too much credit, I think she’s just weird.”
“You’re biased,” Topper pointed out, reaching behind Kelce’s to boop you on the head. “I don’t think you’ve ever liked any of the girls Rafe hooked up with.”
“Ugh, what’s there to like? They either act like I’m invisible or are passive aggressive bitches,” you huffed, smacking his hand away. Rafe snickered, throwing an arm around your shoulder to pull you close, pressing a kiss on your head.
“They’re jus’ jealous, cuz you’re the only girl I keep around.”
“Get off me,” you grumbled, your cheeks warming regardless. Rafe knew how to make you feel special.
Kelce yawned, stretching his arms, laying one of them on top of Rafe’s arm around your shoulder. “This party sucks. And I’m starving.”
“I’m so down for tacos right now, do you think Mateo’s still open?” Topper asked, sitting up straight because if there was one thing he took seriously, it was tacos.
“It’s two am on a Saturday,” you pointed out, and his shoulders sagged. You exchanged looks with Rafe, a grin growing on your face. “His truck is definitely still open.”
“Alright!” Topper cheered, jumping up. “Let’s go then!”
He dragged the rest of you off of the couch, herding you through the backyard and to the car, all the while laughing and joking around. You ignored the dirty looks you received from others as you got into the passenger seat, Rafe getting into the driver’s seat of his truck.
It didn’t take long until Rafe pulled up into the parking lot where Mateo’s food truck was parked, the four of you tumbling out of the car, Topper nearly falling flat on his face as he sprinted to the food truck. The light was still on, with faint Spanish music playing in the background.
“If it isn’t my four favorite Kooks,” Mate said, wiping the counter with a towel, before throwing it over his shoulder, eyeing you expectantly as you stood in a row in front of him. “Can I help you?”
“Do you have any carne asada tacos?” Kelce asked, peering over the display.
“Even four would be enough,” Topper added, wringing his hands nervously.
Mateo sighed and you’d already come to terms with having to go to bed with a taco craving, before he grinned at you, shaking his head fondly.
“Grab some drinks and have some patience, I’ll feed you in a second.”
Ten minutes later, the four of you were chowing down on some tacos, washing it down with ice-cold cans of coke.
“Fuck, I so needed this,” Topper moaned, biting into his third taco and you rolled your eyes at him, dabbing at your mouth with a napkin.
“Get it together Top.”
Rafe nudged you with his knee, giving you a look. “Give him a break, I know you’ve been craving some tacos as well,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, which made you pull a face.
“Eurgh, please use a napkin you slob.”
You pushed the stack of napkins in his direction and he only grinned at you, picking up some off the stack to wipe his mouth.
“What would I do without you?” he teased, but you only rolled your eyes fondly, picking up some nachos.
“Whatever, eat your damn taco.”
Rafe squeezed your wrist with his clean hand, and you only leaned your head on his shoulder, starting to zone out when they started talking about some new boat, just enjoying their company. Honestly, you were glad you had them. Even if they were boys, incredibly dumb, and lacked a little tact sometimes, you wouldn’t trade it for the world. You glanced down, where your legs were pressed against Rafe’s as you sat next to each other on the picnic bench, just like always.
Maybe, you thought to yourself, maybe this was enough.
“You good?” Rafe asked, raising a brow at you, taco halfway into his mouth.
“Yep, ‘m perfect.”
It had to be.
✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦
author's note: tell me what you think pls!!!
🏷️list: @maybankslover
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kamaluhkhan · 4 months
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GET HIM BACK! (or: the 7 reasons you wanted revenge on luke castellan)
read part one — THE GRUDGE (or: the 7 things luke castellan hated about you)
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pairing: luke castellan x nemesis!reader (afab, she/her pronouns)
summary: you were very angry and possibly still in love with luke castellan. kill him or kiss him — you still weren't sure what he deserved.
warnings/disclaimers: spoilers for season 1 of pjo + lots of book references. reader + luke are around 21 for most of this. rough? smut (p in v, oral f+m receiving, biting, scratching, slight choking, etc...) 18 + MDNI ! injuries + blood + violence. reader and others drink alcohol + smoke. lots of angst!!! luke + reader have matching tattoos. twilight + other pop culture references. reader kinda gives 'hell is a teenage girl in her 20s' vibes. maybe slightly toxic dynamic between reader + luke but we love complicated relationships ♡
author's note: thank u so much for all the love on part one!! i got a bit carried away with this one oops, but i hope y'all enjoy it :)
♪: "get him back" by olivia rodrigo
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(i. he had a savior complex) 
if you were less consumed by anger, you might have noticed the sound of his footsteps following closely behind you. 
no one was supposed to go into the forest alone, but you were 17 and reckless and not at all concerned about breaking the rules, especially if it meant proving clarisse larue wrong.  
you ventured into the woods, farther than you'd ever been before, with nothing except your knife and a chest full of determination to prove that you were strong and brave just like any other demigod, regardless of if you had a cabin or not. 
you were younger then, less disillusioned, and more willing to buy into those fantasies of power and glory, spoon-fed to demigods as truth. one that you hoped to cross off that afternoon: being worthy of attention if you could sink your blade into the next monster that dared to cross your path.
everyone would see that you’re not just some little, powerless girl with no reason to be at camp. 
and, sure, there was a small but not insignificant part of you that hoped your mother was watching, that she’d finally notice how much of a hero you could be.
you could have died that afternoon. you put up a decent fight, but soon enough you found yourself fallen to the forest floor: blade down, broken arm, bleeding out. a manticore inches away from sending you to the underworld. 
you weren’t angry anymore, the adrenaline had left your body. you just were a scared child, silently praying to deities you hoped wouldn’t look away like they always do. 
i’m sorry, mom. i couldn’t do it. 
you closed your eyes, waited for your fate, and just when you thought all hope was lost — 
the sound of a sword ripping through flesh, an injured growl, and then nothing but your ragged breathing. 
your eyelids fluttered open.
it wasn't your mother, or any of the other gods, who jumped in to save your life.
standing in the middle of the clearing, gripping his sword, was luke castellan. 
he tucked annabeth’s invisibility cap into his back pocket and brought you to the infirmary.
"she's okay, though?" luke asked. he was watching you carefully, ashes from the manticore dusting his orange camp shirt. his arms were crossed, and it seemed that he managed to defeat the monster relatively unscathed.
lee fletcher, son of apollo, nodded as he set your injury. 
"nothing more than a broken arm and minor concussion. make sure your girl gets lots of rest, okay? no more monster hunting. probably has to sit out capture the flag tomorrow, too.”
you ignored the churning in your stomach when lee assumed you were luke’s girl. luke didn’t bother correcting him. 
lee left to get you some ambrosia to speed the healing process, leaving you and luke alone in the room. 
“you know, i’m not a damsel in distress you have to follow around, waiting to save. i’m not your girl.” 
“seriously?” he raised an eyebrow, but his cheeks became slightly flushed. “you would be dead if it wasn’t for me. i heard what happened with clarisse, but gods — you didn’t have to go and get yourself killed to prove something.” 
he was right, of course. part of you wanted to argue with him for always having to be the hero, but the fight lingering in your throat wasn’t enough to act on. you just sighed and looked away, feeling too impulsive and powerless and exhausted down to your bones. 
you felt the bed dip beside you, and then a hand on your shoulder. it was warmer than usual, but the calloused skin still felt familiar on yours.
“they’re not worth it, okay? that’s what you’re always telling me.”
luke’s voice was lower than before, a touch of bitterness laced through.
“yeah, well you never believe it,” you replied, voice hollow. “so why should i?” 
clarisse entered the infirmary before he could answer. luke was instantly on his feet, blocking you from her view, hand on the hilt of his sword.
“what are you doing here?” he practically growled. 
“i heard what happened,” clarisse explained, looking past luke to catch your eye. you waved at her with your newly applied cast. “i’m sorry about what i said earlier, if that had anything to do with it.”
at that point, you were still trying to figure out where you stood with clarisse. she had arrived at camp just before the new year. you’d been so used to new campers being younger than you, and it was nice to have someone the same age to be friends with. 
it wasn’t until the start of march, around two weeks ago, that ares had claimed her. ever since, there had been a newfound animosity between you, leading up to your explosive argument earlier that day. part of you had a feeling she was just trying to fit in with her siblings. it was a subtle thread woven throughout the camp, especially with the ares kids: this hierarchy of power according to the gods, with you on the lower end because your mother was only a minor goddess. 
needless to say, it wasn’t anything you hadn’t heard before; it was just that the words pierced through your thick skin when coming from a friend. 
but the very fact that she came to visit you, that she apologized and seemed to regret that you’d gotten hurt, healed you more than the ambrosia lee was just coming back to give you. 
“thanks, clarisse,” you said after a mouthful of ambrosia. 
even with an established truce, luke didn’t move away from you. in fact, he puffed his chest out a bit more. 
“if you say anything like that to her again, i swear to all the gods —”
“i just said sorry, castellan,” clarisse scoffed. “now get out of the way so i can sign her cast.” 
clarisse attempted to move closer, but luke stayed planted where he was.
“you are not getting anywhere close to her,” luke warned. 
“easy, tiger.” you got up to put your hand on his arm, but luke jerked away from your touch. your fingers brushed against his skin however, and even that brief moment was enough to shock you with its temperature. you tried again, this time bringing a hand to his neck, and he let out a hiss upon contact. his pulse seemed quicker than normal.
“are you feeling okay?”
“i’m just fine,” he huffed, and stormed out of the infirmary.
a few days later, you were training with clarisse, when silena beauregard ran into the arena and interrupted you.
“it’s luke,” she coughed, out of breath. “he’s in the infirmary—”
you sprinted towards the big house before silena could finish her sentence. 
when you reached the infirmary, luke was being held back by lee and a few others, screaming that he needed to go find you or you’d die. he was holding his sword, and campers wrestled to remove it from his grip. the sleeve of his shirt lifted up slightly, and that was when you noticed it: a gash across his bicep, shallow, but turning a sickly green. the rest of his skin was flushed, his eyes frantically searching for someone — you — and he was breathing heavily between sentences.
it turned out that he’d gone the entire week with the wound festering. one of the manticore’s spikes must have grazed luke, and he hadn’t thought much of it because he was so focused on making sure you were okay. 
manticore poison could fuck with someone’s mind if not treated right away. worse: it could be fatal. 
despite your heart beating out of your chest and the chaos you walked into, you kept your voice gentle, but firm.
“luke.”
for a moment, everything stood still. luke froze, and the campers took the opportunity to get a better hold on him.
he blinked at you and shook his head. “no. no. you’re not her. i heard her screaming from the forest and - and she’s in trouble. i need to —”
“it’s me, tiger,” you assured him. 
you approached him carefully and, despite some whispers of warning, you gestured at everyone to let go of him completely. they might have had a point, because as soon as they did, the tip of his sword was dangerously close to your chin. 
“you’re not her,” he insisted. “you’re just some monster trying to trick me.”
you stood in front of him then, and slowly raised your arm to show him your cast. a few people had signed it — beckendorf, chris, clarisse, silena. luke had signed his name too, of course, along with a poor attempt at a cartoon tiger that made you all laugh. 
“see? it’s me. i’m okay.”
there were a few moments when you held your breath, feeling the celestial bronze dig into your skin a bit more. and then:
“it’s…you. you’re….okay?” 
luke’s speech was slightly slurred. he dropped his sword like it suddenly weighed a thousand pounds; it nicked you on its way down. you didn’t care though, because luke almost fell to the ground, too. 
you gripped his wrist to steady him. 
“you’re probably not okay, though,” you explained, well aware of the urgency of the situation. his pulse felt weaker by the second, his skin burning against yours. 
“i’m….i’m fine. i just need to — she’s gonna die if i don’t —”
“i’m right here. i’m here because you already saved me, remember? you saved me, but you got hurt.”
 he shook his head slowly, and his eyes started to flutter close. 
“no, i’m okay,” he breathed, his voice smaller than you’d ever heard it. “i need to make sure y/n is okay. she needs me….” 
you swallowed the lump in your throat, seeing him start to fade away right in front of you. 
you refused to lose hope. 
no — you wouldn’t watch luke castellan die.
“i’m here, luke.” you gripped his wrist even tighter to remind him.
“but —” 
“just rest for a minute, ” you insisted, guiding him towards a bed. “for me, okay?” 
as soon as you managed to get luke onto the bed and, more importantly, calm, everyone else sprung back into action. 
chiron was away for the week, so will solace — one of the younger apollo campers, but probably the best healer at camp — used some healing magic, while lee misted luke with cold water to cool him down and another kid dripped some nectar onto his wound.
luke hissed when the liquid seeped into his skin and reached out for you. you felt like the flesh might melt right off your bones, but you let him squeeze your hand for as long as he needed. somebody came around to put a bandage on your chin, too.
you'd always resented the gods, but that was the first time you'd really lost your faith in them. watching luke fight for his life even after saving yours, other demigods joining the battle, and you thinking: this is the life you cursed us with. you imagined the gods, with power to twist fate in their favor, simply enjoying a feast on mount olympus, hermes sipping nectar and not even aware that another one of his children is dying. you supposed your mother wasn’t any better either. her neglect felt like revenge for something you didn’t even know you had done.
after a while, the skin around luke’s wound lost its greenish hue. you released a deep breath when both lee and will declared that luke seemed to be on the mend — he just needed to get some rest, and, best case scenario, the poison should have run its course by morning.
you didn’t ask about the worst case scenario.
you estimated it was around 2 am when you heard luke’s voice again.
“cold,” was all he said through shivering teeth. 
you wordlessly grabbed as many blankets as you could, and tucked them around luke. you waited a few minutes to see if it helped.
“so - so cold,” he shivered again. you reached out to check luke’s pulse, and all you could find was the faintest heartbeat. his skin looked pale in the moonlight and now felt ice cold despite his high fever earlier. 
no one else was in the infirmary then. you were wracking your brain to remember what you had learned in demigod survival class about hypothermia. something about warm drinks? you ran to the kitchen and made him a cup of hot chocolate — with cinnamon, just how he liked it. 
you whispered his name once you were back at his bedside. his eyelids fluttered open. you tried coaxing him to take the drink, but he wouldn’t even hold the mug. you didn’t think twice about climbing into bed next to him, gently sitting him upright against the headboard so that you could offer him tiny sips. you noticed then that he was still only wearing a tank top, so you took off your sweatshirt — which happened to be one of luke’s — and slid it on him. 
when the hot chocolate was done, luke sighed. some of the color returned to his face, and his teeth stopped chattering. 
“thanks, karma.”
you just hummed in response, setting the mug down on the nightstand beside you and twisting underneath the blankets. luke settled back down next to you. he brushed his thumb over the band-aid on your chin. 
“what happened? did clarisse —”
“easy, tiger. it’s nothing — just a little scratch,” you replied. 
you spared him from the whole truth. sure, there was a moment earlier when you didn’t know whether or not luke would hurt you. it was only a split second, because that wasn’t your luke. he shouldn’t have had to live with the guilt of something he did by accident, as a result of a poisoned mind.
“anyways, i should be thanking you. you’re the one who almost died saving my life. you were hanging by a thread just a few seconds ago. it seems like you’re not completely out of the woods yet.”
“well, i guess the fates are still deciding what to do with me.” he cracked a smile. 
it was a bit morbid, given what you’d been through the past 12 hours, and the fact that the manticore venom clearly hadn’t left his body completely. the possibility of his death had not completely disappeared, though you supposed that, as demigods, the risk always remained higher. 
fuck the gods. they weren’t your protectors. they weren’t your family. 
the campers who put their whole heart into healing you and luke, the boy who risked his life for you — they were your family. 
you took luke’s humor as a good sign. the luke castellan you knew — confident banter, radiant grin, heart of gold — was coming back to you. 
the luke castellan you would not allow die, even if you could still feel the cool bronze of his blade linger on your chin. 
(ii. he had an ego)
according to annabeth chase, it was statistically improbable for a demigod to reach drinking age. something always kills them first - a monster, a blade, a fatal flaw. the likelihood of survival only gets exponentially lower with each passing year.
she repeated that information to luke on the morning of his 21st birthday.
“thanks for the cheerful birthday wishes, sis.” 
annabeth shrugged and hugged him before walking back to the athena table to finish breakfast. 
"you hear that, tiger?” you pointed a syrupy fork at luke. “you are literally saying fuck you to fate, just by being alive." 
"that’s the way i like it," luke quipped, and stole a blueberry from your plate. 
"hey man, happy birthday." chris patted luke’s shoulder on his way to sit across from you and luke. "so, i just talked to chiron and he agreed to let us go out tonight." 
you smiled between bites of your pancakes, reaching over to offer chris a triumphant fist bump.
“nice work, rodriguez.” 
"we're going out tonight?"
you pressed your knee to luke's under the table. 
"of course we are," you hummed. "we have a lot to celebrate." 
so, you, luke, chris, and a few of your friends — beckendorf, silena, and clarisse — went into the city to celebrate. one of luke's favorite bands was playing, and you had managed to snag a few tickets. you'd all entered a bar confidently that night, the fake ids you were at once so giddy and paranoid about no longer needed. 
there were few times when you could all just kick back and have fun, without having to worry about the responsibilities of being senior counselors. that night, you were all itching for a taste of freedom. or, at least, some alcohol. 
"happy birthday to the one and only luke castellan: a hero by any other name!" 
everyone raised their shot glasses, echoed beckendorf's words, and threw back their drinks. 
the night became louder, more vibrant. yet, even as you laughed and drank and danced with your friends, there was a heaviness lingering in your chest.
for most demigods, birthdays were bittersweet. each one served as a reminder of time running out because of exactly what annabeth said that morning. most half-bloods don’t even live past their teens, let alone the age of 20. you had the blood of gods flowing in your veins, and your lives were influenced by sinister, divine forces from ancient times. you were the new generation of heroes, protagonists of those greek tragedies that made mortals weep.
there was no guarantee that this would last forever, but all of your friends —  the people you loved — had beat the odds. 
so, who would blame you for getting a little sentimental? 
beckendorf and chris had wandered off to play pool, in hopes of winning some bets and free drinks. clarisse was flirting with some girl who caught her eye, and silena went to grab some water after having danced for a bit. you and luke were still in the crowd, swaying to the music. for one glorious moment, you were just a group of twenty-one year olds enjoying a carefree night out. 
under the flashing lights, you stole a glimpse at luke. he wore a simple white tank top and ripped jeans, paired with a leather jacket and some rings he borrowed from you so he could, in his words, look more punk-rock. his curls were messy, his skin glittering with a thin sheen of sweat. the chain he layered with his usual camp necklace caught the multicolored light and highlighted the sharp angles of his collarbones. 
whatever aesthetic he was going for, luke looked good. based on various eyes following him throughout the room, you assumed others thought the same as well. it made you just a little bit furious, feeling that he wasn't only yours to admire. 
“you good?” luke’s voice cut through the noise, but he had to lean in close.  
his fingers brushed against the section of waist exposed by your cropped top. you’d gotten so warm that you had to tie your flannel around your waist, but luke’s touch sent a shiver through your body. it made you somewhat dizzy, feeling the cold metal of those rings on your skin. even moreso, when you realized how much you wanted to kiss your best friend, sink your teeth into his smirk and taste the mint chapstick and tequila on his lips. 
to be fair, you and luke had crossed that line before, and you were in the fields of asphodel ever since. 
not quite friendship, not quite romance. something deeper, more volatile and electric. 
you didn’t want to make things blurrier than they already were, though. whatever you acted on that night could have just been dismissed the next morning as a drunken mistake.
so, you just nodded at him and turned back towards the band as though you were never thinking about anything more than the music. 
after a few more songs, luke commanded your attention once more.
“hey, didn’t you once say you wanted to start a band?”
“what do i look like, a child of apollo?” you joked, but luke raised an eyebrow at you, clearly wanting a serious answer.
it was slightly alarming, how well he knew you; through your childhood dreams and down to your core. 
“in another life,” you conceded. “maybe.”
“in another life,” luke echoed. he leaned in close again. “you’d be a pretty hot drummer, and i’d be front row at every show.”
your lips could have touched if you moved your head just an inch, but he pulled away before you did. he was giving you that classic son-of-hermes smirk, the one that made everyone swoon. 
the thing was, you were sure that luke knew the effect he had on people. you had seen him continuously bask in the praise of chiron and other campers, always preening for the crowd's attention, as if he had to do anything more than smile. everyone loved luke — he was handsome, charismatic, strong.
and, yeah, you weren’t immune. your fatal flaw: not loyalty, or anger, or recklessness, but luke castellan’s charm.
you had to keep yourself grounded. it would be a bad idea to cross that line again on his birthday, right? 
luke licked his lips as you kept staring at him. you could tell he was waiting for you to do something. 
maybe it was the alcohol coursing through your veins or the rhythm of the music vibrating through your bones, but you started thinking — fuck it. 
before you could act on that impulse, some person with bright red hair stepped between you and luke. she introduced herself, telling luke she saw him from across the room, and she'd been watching him all night, and would he by any chance want to dance with her?
luke seemed flattered, interested even. he flashed her the very same smile he had just given you, which left a bitter taste in your mouth. you excused yourself before you had to hear them flirt even more. 
you walked over to silena at the bar. she had a half-empty glass of ice water melting in front of her, her attention somewhere else. you sat down beside her and followed her gaze to what — who — she was looking at. 
“if confessing feelings to someone is hard for aphrodite’s daughter, then there’s really no hope for the rest of us,” you tell her.
silena whipped her head towards you. her cheeks were flushed a light pink. 
“i - i don’t have feelings for clarisse.”
“lena, please. we all know. well, except maybe clarisse.”
“what?” she blinked at you, eyeshadow shimmering in the light.
“yeah,” you said with a small laugh. the irony of it all: the head counselor of cabin 10  denying that she was in love with someone. “we talk about it all the time.”
“well,” silena huffed, cheeks now a bright red. “i guess i should tell you that the rest of us talk about you and luke.” 
you reached over to grab her water, your throat suddenly dry. 
“what about us?” you asked after finishing the drink in one long sip. 
“about how you obviously both have feelings for each other. half the camp already thinks you’re dating.”
you started to crunch on whatever ice was still frozen. 
“well, we aren’t.” 
that reality hurt more than the sharp pain piercing your brain from ingesting too much cold, too fast. you couldn’t even spot luke in the crowd — he and the redhead had probably gone off to some private corner. 
“people think love’s a joke,” silena sighed. “but they don’t realize how much power it can have over a person. it can make people —”
“cowards?” you suggested.
silena nodded solemnly. “cowards.”
neither of you said anything for a while, two love-sick half-bloods slumped over a sticky bar counter.
suddenly, silena sat up straight. she tied her black hair up into a ponytail. perfect, of course, along with her makeup. you were sure you had sweat off the glitter she had applied to your cheeks earlier. 
“i am not a coward.” 
without another word, silena got up and glided towards clarisse, and you were left with an empty stool next to you. 
part of you was proud of her for following her heart. the other part couldn’t stop picturing someone else’s tongue down luke’s throat. 
“can i get a ginger-ale, please?” you asked no one in particular, hoping that the bartender heard your request for something to ease your nausea. 
“you sure you don’t want anything stronger?” 
someone slid onto the barstool next to you. he looked around your age, wearing a navy and red rugby shirt. he had what looked like a pretty expensive watch on his wrist, and he was already leaning in way too close for a stranger. 
“i’m fine,” you deadpanned.
“oh, come sweetheart, it’s on me.” 
you scoffed at the nickname and shook your head.
the guy next to you didn’t care. he snapped to get the bartender’s attention. “two vodka tonics, please. that’s your drink, right? i’m usually pretty good at guessing.”
“dude, i said i’m fine,” you repeated through clenched teeth.
the bartender set two drinks in front of you and rugby shirt pointed towards them.
“well, i already got you a drink, so you at least owe me a conversation.” he slid the drink closer to you.
"i don't owe you anything." 
"oh, come on," rugby shirt cooed. "i don't bite." he slipped his hand underneath your skirt, nails scratching along the skin of your upper thigh, through your fishnets.
you growled at the contact and stood up abruptly, more than a little coincidentally knocked the glass over. the liquid splashed onto him. his flirtatious grin melted right off his face.
“jesus christ —you bitch,” he spat. “this is what i get for trying to be nice?”
“that’s what you get for trying to grope me,” you snapped. “but i could do a lot worse if you’re in the mood.”
his face was a pissed-off shade of red, his mouth formulating a response when —
you felt luke’s arm wrap around your waist, pulling you close to him. you side-eyed him, and ignored the hickey blooming at the base of his neck.
“is there a problem here?” luke’s voice was firm, steady. 
it seemed like all the fight left rugby shirt’s body, and he put his hands up in surrender. 
“oh, sorry dude. i didn’t realize she was taken.”
you rolled your eyes. figured that this guy would only back off if there was a jealous boyfriend in the mix. 
“it’s fine, i’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”
“that’s for sure,” the guy continued. “your girl practically bit my head off for being nice and buying her a drink.”
your fingers tightened into a fist.
“that is not —”
“look, i gotta apologize on her behalf.”
“luke, what are you —”
“let me handle this, baby,” he hummed. “trust me, she’s normally a good girl. she just gets….harder to control after one too many drinks.” 
“i am this close to throwing my next drink at you,” you insisted. 
you weren't naive. you knew luke was putting on an act, but you weren't sure why he felt the need to appease this jerk and put you down in the process. 
you hated the way he was acting now — arrogant, condescending, borderline sexist. you wanted to storm off, you really did, but that would mean having to tear yourself away from luke, and.... you didn't hate the firm hold he had on you. 
he chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the guy knowingly, like they were the closest friends. 
“see what i mean?”
“that’s quite the firecracker you got there,” the guy complimented, as though you were a prize luke had won. “those are the ones you gotta keep on a tight leash, though.”
oh, your patience was wearing thin. if luke didn't take care of this guy soon….
“don’t i know it.” luke laughed when you barred your teeth at him. “look, we all came here to have a good time. why don’t you go join your friends again, and i’ll send over some drinks.”
rugby shirt looked at luke, then nodded. 
“alright. thanks, man. and sorry again for the….confusion.” 
luke extended a hand, and the guy shook it.
"no hard feelings. i'll be sure to keep her on a tighter leash, though."
rugby shirt walked away, laughing. you were just about ready to bite luke's head off.
you shoved luke away from you. your whole body felt like it was on fire. 
“luke castellan, i don’t care if it’s your birthday, if you ever talk to me like that again, i swear to all the gods —” you faltered when luke’s lips curled into a smirk. 
that smug, gorgeous, self-important smirk.
“what?” 
“i’m just waiting until you’re done chewing me out,” he said, clearly a bit amused. “you done?”
you hesitated, narrowing your eyes at him. “for now, i guess.”
“good, because we have about 2 minutes before our misogynistic frat buddy over there notices that something’s missing.”
he lifted his hand to show off the real prize of the night. 
“you did all of that….. to steal the guy’s watch?”
“well, duh. he was being a jerk and i’m the prince of thieves, karma. gotta use my powers for good.” 
luke winked at you as you stared at him in awe. 
“we really should go though. the others are waiting for us outside.” 
you jutted your chin towards the bruise on his neck.
"what about the redhead?"
luke flushed, adjusted his collar to hide the hickey. "i kinda lost interest when she said i was hot for an asian guy."
"oh." you ignored the triumph in your gut. "sounds like a jerk, too." 
"whatever." luke shrugged. "hard to find the good ones, right?" 
luke turned towards the exit.
"wait.” you tugged him back, and luke looked confused for a split second. “you're one of the good ones, luke castellan. did i ever tell you how incredibly happy i am that you were born?" 
luke grinned. "you could stand to say it more often."
his smile was infectious. you liked this side of luke: protective, mischievous, a bit of a trouble-maker. 
it made you want to kiss him all over again.
(iii. he lied without flinching)
you couldn’t find luke anywhere. 
he wasn’t at the climbing wall, or the arena, or the forge. luke seemed to have a knack at vanishing when you needed him most.
when you finally found him, he was outside the big house, in what seemed to be a somewhat heated conversation with chris and a new camper, ethan nakamura. 
ethan nakamura, son of nemesis. you were shocked when your mother’s symbol — swords crossed underneath a set of scales — appeared over his head after two weeks of staying at the hermes cabin. 
you were still getting used to having a younger half-brother. 
“hey,” you greeted the trio, slightly out of breath from running all over camp. as soon as you joined them, a silence fell over the group. “i was looking for you everywhere, tiger. what’s going on here?”
“actually, we were just —”
“nakamura,” luke spoke ethan’s name like a warning. 
“i’m just saying, maybe we should consider —”
luke cut ethan off this time with a sharp glance. 
“i already said no. end of discussion.”
“whatever you say, boss,” ethan grumbled.
the trio was silent again, and you eyed each of them suspiciously.
“okay, seriously. what’s —”
“we’ll talk more about this later, guys,” luke interrupted. his tone was commanding. ethan and chris dispersed. 
once they were gone, you furrowed your brows at luke, not sure what they would be talking about that could make him speak so harshly. 
“what was that about?” you asked for the third time.
“nothing important.” luke gave you a smile that seemed to stretch a bit thin. “you said you were looking for me everywhere. wanna go makeout in the hermes cabin? i’m pretty sure it’ll be empty this time of day.”
you shook your head, no matter how tempting the offer. the scene you walked into made you so uneasy that you completely forgot there was something important you needed to tell luke.
“percy and annabeth just iris-messaged me,” you explained. 
“oh,” he quirked an eyebrow at you. “is their quest going alright?”
you repeated everything the kids had told you: medusa, the chimera, ares. clarisse maybe being the lightning thief. luke had to sit down on the stairs leading to the big house when you spoke that last part. you understood why — clarisse was your friend. 
sitting down next to him, you sighed.
“you don’t think….you don’t think it could be true, do you?” 
clarisse was hot-headed, sure, maybe a bit impulsive, but a war between the gods? that didn’t seem her style. 
you hoped luke would assure you, but instead he said:
luke ran a hand through his hair. “it would make sense.”
“what?”
he leaned in close, voice low.
“clarisse was there with us during our field trip to olympus in december. the gods are arrogant enough to leave their stuff in the throne room, and there’s not really any security. she could have easily snuck in when everyone was sleeping. clarisse….” luke let out a heavy breath. “clarisse is the lightning thief.”
“no. no. she wouldn’t —”
“it makes sense, karma,” luke insisted. he placed a hand on your knee. “clarisse is angry at the gods.”
“we all are,” you pointed out.
“well, sure, but her dad is ares. how else do you get the god of war’s attention if not starting a war?”
you took a second to process luke’s reasoning. maybe he did have a point. it was just that sharp pain in your chest keeping you from believing it. 
“we don’t know anything for sure,” you decided. “and until we do….we don’t tell anyone. especially chiron.”
luke squeezed your knee, gave you a reassuring smile. 
“sounds like a plan.” he moved in closer and whispered: “now, how about we sneak away, and i do that thing with my tongue that makes you squirm?” 
you felt something tighten in your lower abdomen. you and luke were still in the sneaking-around-camp stage of your relationship; you both got a thrill from it.
at the time, you figured luke was just offering you a much needed distraction.
he kissed just below your ear to sweeten the deal — and how were you supposed to resist?
you didn’t even question how luke knew when the bolt was stolen, let alone how he seemed to have the theft already planned out perfectly.
(iv. he hid behind a pretty face and perfect teeth)
 it had been a little over a week since people around camp — including percy, annabeth, and grover, who had gotten back from their quest — found out about you and luke, together. apparently your friends had a bet going, meaning that everyone other than silena was less than thrilled about your announcement. they warmed up to the idea since then.
it still felt a little bit surreal calling luke castellan your boyfriend. 
luke often played the role of the perfect demigod, the one everyone should strive to be. he paid extra attention to new campers and made them feel welcomed. he did his chores on time, stepped in if more hands were needed for kitchen patrol, and spent hours going through reports for chiron. he taught sword-fighting and encouraged younger campers to keep practicing. he did participate in the occasional prank, that mischievous child of hermes streak impossible not to indulge in, but it only made everyone adore him even more. because luke was responsible, but not boring. he was incredibly skilled and driven, but also gracious. he was sensible and charismatic. 
you watched that luke — camp half-blood’s golden boy, the hero everyone either wanted to be, befriend, or date — and you were in awe. mostly, you wondered how he managed to bury the anger and resentment you knew was churning inside him, the same anger and resentment you sometimes let slip through. 
no, you were not as careful as golden boy luke, who showed no malice towards the olympians. to chiron, to everyone else, luke castellan respected the gods, honored them in everything he did, and taught others to do the same. 
that was not the luke who sucked a bruise onto your neck while suggesting something even you might consider blasphemous. 
“we can’t just - uh,” you had to catch your breath when luke slipped his thumb underneath the band of your sports bra. “we’d get in trouble, tiger.”
you felt him chuckle against your skin.
“since when do you care about that?” 
“since the king of the gods would probably strike us with lightning, or turn us into some horrible monsters, or curse us if we were caught fucking in his cabin." 
"that’s only if we get caught." 
luke gave you that flirtatious smile, the one he now reserved only for you.
it was that smile that led to luke settling between your legs, fucking you with his tongue and fingers, his other hand digging into your thigh to keep you from writhing too much. 
zeus’ cabin was, of course, empty, since his only known child was turned into a pine tree. you and luke had tucked yourselves into the one corner where the giant statue of the god couldn’t see you, setting a sleeping bag down on the cold marble floor and your discarded clothes scattered throughout. the dome-shaped ceiling was decorated with an enchanted mosaic sky that seemed to move. the only sounds that echoed throughout the room were moans as your orgasm washed over you.
"you're so, so pretty," he mumbled, wet lips brushing the skin of your inner thigh. he stayed where he was, awfully concerned with lapping up everything.
you whined his name when you found him taking too long, already a bit sensitive and wanting him inside you.
it might have been your conscious, but you swore you could hear a storm brewing, the threat of thunder and lightning looming.  the mosaic sprouted some clouds, growing darker by the second as if a countdown to your doom.
luke, on the other hand, was acting like you had all the time in the world, and then some.
he paused after his name tumbled from your lips again, and you tugged his hair. he propped his chin on your stomach to get a better look of you. luke was gorgeous, with his mess of black curls, deep brown eyes a little more dangerous than usual, smirk shining with your come.
"yes, sweetheart?"
“get up here and kiss me,” you groaned. 
once again, luke took his sweet time. his mouth left a trail along your thighs and your hips, your stomach and ribs. it felt like he was worshiping every inch of your skin, scarred and uneven and tattooed as it was. luke took extra care in appreciating the sword engraved on your sternum, the tattoo that matched the one he had on his collarbone.
“hi,” luke whispered once he was face to face with you. 
“hey, tiger,” you matched the softness of his voice, contrasting the harshness that followed when luke crashed his lips into yours. you could taste yourself on his tongue, and once he sucked all the air from your lungs, you had to pull away. 
you informed him: “there’s a condom in my back pocket.”
“always prepared,” he noted with a smile, reaching over to get it.
you kissed luke again as he entered you, your nails scraping down his back. when he pulled away to look at you, you couldn’t meet his gaze. instead, you were mesmerized by the sharp contours of his body and the healed wounds that lingered, every scar that you knew by heart like they were your own. it might have been strange, but you had a favorite — the faint cut on his hip from when he, thalia, and annabeth were on the run and they had to jump a fence.
if luke hadn’t been thrusting into you, you would have bent down to kiss it. 
“eyes up here, beautiful.” 
when you complied, luke smiled and ran his thumb along your jaw.
“good girl,” he praised. “you okay if i go harder?”
you settled for kissing the scar on his cheekbone.
“yes,” you finally answered.  "please."
luke brought his hand down to wrap your leg around his hip before he started moving faster. your head fell back against the marble floor, but you didn’t care about the impact. you just focused on how good it felt to have luke inside you, his strong hand on your hip, his warm breath on your skin. 
after feeling you tighten around him, luke let go a bit more. he dropped his head between your neck and shoulder, his curls brushing against you. as he reached his peak, luke bit your shoulder, hard,  to keep himself from groaning too loudly. you could have sworn that you heard thunder at that exact moment. in fact, it seemed to shake the entire cabin.
luke seemed to catch the threat that time, too. 
there was no room for pillow talk as the two of you rushed to get dressed and get out of there before the king of the gods lost his patience and struck you with lightning, turned you into some horrible monsters, or cursed you. maybe all three, maybe something worse.
you slipped on your underwear and pants, but couldn’t find the top half of your outfit. 
“do you see my shirt there?”
luke had just pulled on his boxers when he turned and passed the item to you. you weren’t sure why he paused for a second while doing it. then, he whispered:
“shit.” luke’s eyes were glued to your shoulder, where his teeth had broken skin. his cheeks flushed a bright red. whether it was shame or embarrassment, you didn’t know; but you were slightly taken aback. “i’m, i’m sorry, i — i didn’t mean to hurt you. i never want to —”
you placed your hands on his cheeks. 
“hey.” you whispered at him softly, and it was enough for him to stop rambling. you could tell he felt guilty, though, since he refused to meet your gaze.
“luke, baby, look at me.”
when he finally did, your heart ached. 
it wasn’t like you hadn’t done similar to luke. you’d never broken skin, sure, but luke seemed to enjoy — really enjoy — whenever you used your teeth in the heat of the moment. you just assumed he knew you wouldn’t mind the same.
but, one bite, and luke was almost reduced to tears, all because he was afraid of hurting you. 
“it’s fine, okay? i’m fine.”
luke didn’t seem convinced, his brows furrowed with concern. you kissed the crease on his forehead and reassured him once more that you were fine. 
 “if anything, consider it payback for the hickey i left that took a week to fade away.”
luke smiled softly at that, and you knew he was coming back to you. 
“you know, annabeth suggested that i go to the infirmary because of how it looked. i had to tell her i got it during sparring practice.”
“it wasn’t that bad,” you laughed, and so did luke. 
thunder rumbled throughout the cabin once more, and you swore the clouds were growing darker by the second. 
you were about to finish getting dressed when he grabbed your waist.
“look, if i’m ever too rough whenever we’re —”
“sparring?” 
“sure,” he smiled, thumbs rubbing circles on your bare skin. “whenever we’re sparring, just promise that you’ll let me know.”
“of course,” you hummed. “only if you do the same.”
“of course,” he echoed, and he pecked your lips. “i think it’s hot, you know? when you feel like you can let go. when you mark me. i like everyone knowing that i’m yours.”
you bit back a smile, feeling your cheeks grow warm.
“well, i think it’s hot when you mark me, too. especially when you bite me,” you admitted. 
“don’t tell me you’re still into the whole vampire thing,” he teased.
“oh, please. you were as obsessed with it as the rest of us. don’t you remember?”
as if either of you could forget marathoning the entire twilight saga with your friends, the six of you squeezing onto the small couch in the big house, sharing one bowl of popcorn and endless cups of coffee to stay awake.
you shivered out of the memory when he brought his fingers up to trace the bite mark he had left on you.
zeus could have sent more thunder. he could have created a whole godsdamned storm, but you wouldn’t have cared.
luke was so close that you had nothing better to do than to close the distance between you.
luke got bolder as the kiss became more heated — he sank his teeth into your bottom lip, his tongue sweeping over the crimson liquid that emerged, the tang of copper invading your mouth.
“easy there, edward,” you joked, and felt him smirk against your lips before moving to nip at your neck. 
you trailed your hand down the front of his exposed stomach, outlining the contours and curves. with the moonlight reflecting in, accompanied by the crackle of lightning, it almost looked like luke’s skin was glittering.
“you’re so beautiful," you cooed, nails scraping against the tight muscles of his lower abdomen.
“this is the skin of a killer, bella!” he mimicked.
you laughed at the reference, but when luke seemed to realize what he said, you swore you felt his grip tightening on your hips, though you didn't know why.
“i never want to hurt you,” he finished the sentence you had interrupted earlier.
“you won’t.” 
at the time, you didn’t think he was even capable of such a thing. 
for better or for worse, that was the night you realized something.
you liked golden boy luke. or, at the very least, you tolerated him.
the rule-breaking, sin-committing, blood-sucking luke?
in the words of bella swan: he was the one you were unconditionally and irrevocably in love with. 
except your life wasn't some cliché yet endearing love story about fictional vampires and werewolves. 
it had monsters, too. you just didn't realize who they were until it was too late. 
(v. he made you look so naive)  
there was blood on your hands, but you weren’t sure who it belonged to.
yours or luke’s — it was a toss-up that made you more than a little nauseous. 
luke had stolen the lightning bolt. luke had tried to frame percy and start a war between the gods. luke had begged you to join kronos’ army with him. you almost killed him because of it until you realized that he left percy to die. 
you summarized everything to chiron and mr. d once you had made sure that percy was getting help in the infirmary. the scorpion poison was still putting up a fight, but percy was strong. annabeth was there with him.
dread simmered in the pit of your stomach just thinking about having to tell her everything, too — to see the look in her eyes when she hears just how much her big brother betrayed her.
“and you have no idea where mr. castellan could have gone?” chiron’s voice was stern, as usual. 
you shook your head, not particularly paying attention. you could still feel blood seeping from the blademark luke had left. 
“that’s awfully convenient,” mr.d scoffed.
you narrowed your eyes at him. 
“what’s that supposed to mean?” 
“i’ve heard around camp that you and this luke were quite…. close,” mr. d said, pointing his can of diet coke at you accusingly. 
a wave of anger surged through you. it had been building in your gut ever since luke revealed his betrayal, and you didn’t care if it was a god who was on the receiving end of your wrath. 
“seriously? i saved percy and told you everything, and you’re here suggesting what? that i’m somehow a traitor, too?”  
“seems like the plot of a pretty twisted love story.”
your lips curled into a snarl, and you were about to pounce until chiron dismissed you.
you were in a trance for the rest of the day. chris was gone, too. ethan didn’t seem surprised. silena sobbed, clarisse comforted her, beckendorf cursed luke’s name. other campers kept asking about where their favorite counselor had gone, until they started growing weary of you.
because if golden boy luke was evil, what were the odds that his hot-headed, impertinent girlfriend was, too?
luke left you there, looking like an absolute fool for believing in him, trusting him, loving him.
you couldn’t unsee his blood on your hands. you might as well have been lady macbeth, desperately scrubbing out stains that would never leave.
vi. he was a vice you could never shake
calling all riot grrrls and punk rockers — this show is for YOU!!! come see the SIRENS OF NEW YORK perform THIS friday at joan’s bar ;)
the flyer was an obnoxiously vibrant shade of red and plastered throughout the neighborhood, and it did a good job. one of queens’ best dive bars was packed with people waiting to see the band perform: stella yamada on guitar, mohini banjaree on bass, sally mcknight on vocals — and you on drums. 
it was nice and still a bit new, this relatively normal existence with relatively normal people.
you couldn’t cut off the demigod side of your life completely. there was still a war brewing, and you were in regular enough contact with camp. 
but, you’d been away for a few years, trying to live the life of a non-halfblood in their early 20s. you had an apartment, a cat and a nice enough roommate. you were in school and working as a bartender to pay for rent and tuition. you had friends who, for lack of a better term, were normal. people who worried about paying off student loans and finding their passion in life, whether it be law school or feminist prose or angry girl music of the indie-rock persuasion. people who spent their time in classrooms or tattoo parlors or their friends’ bathrooms at 2am while bleaching their hair after a bad breakup. 
sometimes though, usually late at night when you couldn’t sleep, you had to admit to yourself that you missed your old life. 
you missed home. you missed playing capture the flag and training in the arena and having breakfast in the dining pavilion. you missed your friends, the ones you’d grown up with. 
you missed —
no. you tried not to let your mind wander towards him, or the consequences of what he did. you both drew blood the afternoon he confessed his sins to you, but he was the one who twisted the knife. he was the reason you couldn’t stand your life as a half-blood anymore. 
you just tried to focus on the mortal, mundane things that now composed your everyday life, like the stage you would be performing on in 30 seconds. 
before every show, your bandmates went through different degrees of anxiety. you didn’t get stage fright like them. they called you fearless, but the reality was that you had just gone up against much worse. 
and yet, that night, you almost froze mid-set, just as you started a cover of the joan jett’s “you don’t know what you’ve got.”
ironically, luke had gotten you a cd of this album for your 15th birthday. 
i was caught so unaware, when you made other plans.
think of the devil, and he shall appear.
it couldn’t have been him there, though. last time you heard of him, luke was growing kronos' army somewhere on the west coast.  
you pushed through, even though your concentration was shaken. 
i can’t stand to hear your name
you had to shake off the feeling of him watching you. 
it was just that — a bad feeling, right?
 you missed another beat, and mo turned around to give a concerned yet frustrated frown. joan had hinted that there might have been an agent in the audience, and you couldn’t afford to mess up. 
oh baby, you really blew it.
the song ended, and your blood ran cold.
it had to be a trick of the light, seeing luke in the crowd, but just the thought of being in the same space again made it impossible to be up on that stage, so exposed. 
as the band was getting ready for the next song, you slipped away, out the back door and into the alley for some fresh air. with shaky hands, you brought a cigarette between your lips and pulled out your lighter. it was a terrible habit, you knew.
those were always the ones hardest to quit and you needed a vice to keep you grounded. 
so there you found yourself, shivering in your black tank top, just cropped enough that the fishnets you wore underneath red leather pants were slightly visible. the bricks were cool against your back and you exhaled into the soft evening twilight when you realized it hadn’t been a trick of the light. 
“you look like buffy the vampire slayer.”
you rolled your eyes, because of course luke would do that. you were on opposite sides of an impending war between gods and titans, a world-ending conflict that luke directly enabled, and he led with a light-hearted comment like you were still the best of friends. 
as if you hadn’t been on the receiving ends of each other’s blades ever since luke revealed himself to be a traitor. 
“give me one reason why i shouldn’t kill you right now. ”
“because i’m alone.”
“you could still be here to kill me,” you reasoned. “or at least try.”  
after everything, you wouldn’t put it past him. you known him to do a lot worse, all to people he claimed to, in a past life, care about. 
luke tried again. 
“because you always liked a fair fight. i came alone and unarmed.” 
you scoffed, dropped your half-finished cigarette to the ground, and snuffed it out with the toe of your chunky patent boot before walking over to stand in front of luke. he put his hands up in surrender as you approached him. 
“if you’re not here to fight, then why are you here?” you demanded, fingers brushing against the switchblade in your pocket. you always kept a celestial bronze weapon on you in case you came across any monsters in the city. you looked at the one in front of you, and wished you had brought a bigger knife.
“i just….i wanted — needed to see you.”
your eyes grazed luke carefully.
he looked rough. deep shadows under his eyes, hair disheveled and partially matted down, shirt wrinkled like he’d been on the run for days. his hands caked with blood and dirt, his face, too. a nasty bruise on his elbow, and what looked like another one disappearing beneath the collar of his shirt. 
you bit down the urge to care. you had to remind yourself that luke was dangerous, cruel, and heartless. you couldn’t stand to look at him for one more second, at least not without biting his head off, or at the very least the cut on his lip. 
“no. you don’t get to just —”
the door slammed open, echoed throughout the alley. stella poked her head out, guitar still strapped to her shoulder. from inside, you could hear the crowd cheering.
“jesus christ, y/n! where have you been?” 
“sorry, stel. i needed a smoke break and then i ran into a — ” your voice caught on the word friend. “luke.”
his name left a poisonous taste in your mouth, and you swallowed its bitterness. 
she saw luke then, who gave her that charming smile of his you hadn’t seen in forever. he extended a hand towards her, but stella just scowled at him and turned back to you.
“are you coming to finish the show?” stella demanded. 
“i need to deal with this,” you told her. “i’m sor—”
stella huffed and slithered back inside before you could finish apologizing. 
 “great,” you laughed cynically. “now one of my best friends is pissed at me, and i might get kicked out of the band. my luck just gets worse every time you force yourself back into my life, castellan.”
you weren’t quite sure how to make of the way he looked at you — maybe apologetic, possibly desperately, definitely some sort of disguise. 
“i know….i fucked up, karma.”
you glared at the use of his old nickname for you, feeling a shudder run down your spine.
“yeah, you fucked up. and now everyone, the whole world, is suffering the consequences. me, annabeth, your mom —”
“please,” luke begged once more, voice shaking now. “if you ever loved me —”
“don’t.” you barked. “if you ever loved me, you’d accept that the next time we see each other, it’ll be fighting on a battlefield. until one of us is on the ground, bleeding out, or never again.”
luke stared at you. you glared back at him. 
“sorry i’m late, lukey. did i miss much?” a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension. 
you turned and saw a cheerleader. she looked relatively normal, but the mismatched legs — one bronze, another furry — along with the red eyes and fangs gave her away. 
“you said you were alone,” you pointed out, tilting your head towards the monster. “looks like you brought company.”
“i didn’t,” luke insisted. “kelli’s been hunting me down.”
kelli pouted. “i thought we were playing hide and seek. but it’s over now — i win. please don’t be mad, baby.”
baby. you could have laughed. 
“i guess you moved on, castellan.” you meant your words to come across as mocking, so you hoped luke couldn’t sense the resentment behind them.
kelli giggled, and you thought your ears might bleed. 
“he sure did,” she cooed and moved closer to luke, running a long red fingernail down his chest. he pushed her away abruptly, and kelli pouted once more. “we miss you, luke. i miss you. please come back home with me.”
“that’s not my home.”
out of everything luke had said, those were the words that got through to you. you glanced at him once more — his hands curled into fists, jaw clenched, and eyes locked on yours, panicking and pleading at the same time. 
you had to give in to those pleading, panicked brown eyes. 
luke didn’t have any weapons on him. all you had was a tiny pocket knife and some combat skills you’d been maintaining through kickboxing classes with your roommate, but you were willing to put them to good use.
you stepped in front of luke. 
“listen — kelli, was it?” the empousa growled at you. “call me sentimental, but i can’t let you take him.”
kelli gave you a snarl, and you whipped out your switchblade. admittedly, it looked a little pathetic compared to her deadly fangs and sharp claws. 
“aw, cute!” she mocked, and then pushed you backwards. 
you expected to tumble into luke, but he had disappeared. seemed like you did make the wrong choice, to trust luke again. 
again — the worst, most sinister habits were the hardest ones to break. 
it briefly crossed your mind to chase him down after this for leading you into a trap. for now, you had a shapeshifting cheerleader to take care of. 
you managed to side-step kelli’s next attack, and sliced across her arm in the process. she shrieked. her hair bursted into flames, as if your day could get any worse. you tried to get another jab in, but kelli managed to be quicker this time. she punched you in the jaw, then kicked you, hard, with a hoofed foot, causing a dull crack to your ribcage upon impact. the kick sent you spinning towards the brick wall; it stopped you from falling, but knocked the air out of your lungs. you spat, your mouth thick with the taste of blood. your ears were ringing, and you couldn’t locate your knife. 
you were definitely out of practice. 
“kelli!” 
you both turned your attention towards luke, standing at the entrance of the alley with his sword in hand.
“luke!” kelli said like he was her long lost lover. she batted her eyelashes at him, the murderous grin she had given you melting away to something more enticing. “you came to help me finish her off.”
luke tilted his head. “not exactly.”
luke threw the sword towards you. despite a split second of surprise, you caught it; made a sharp diagonal cut. before kelli knew it, she was reduced to nothing but dust.
you dropped luke’s sword and fell to the pavement, adrenaline coursed through your veins from the first near-death experience you’d had in months. even with your body bruised and broken, fighting was a thrill like no other. 
luke came to kneel in front of you, sneakers crunching over the ashes of his ex-girlfriend.
“you said you were unarmed.” your voice sounded muffled. you spat out another mouthful of blood.
“half-bloods are walking monster bait. i’d be an idiot if i didn’t have any celestial bronze on me.” 
to emphasize his point, luke tucked your switchblade carefully back into your pocket. he moved his hand to the hem of your shirt. it was your instinct to keep him from lifting it up, and he stopped when he noticed your hesitation.
“i’m just trying to see how bad it is,” he informed. his lips then formed a bemused grin. “besides, i’ve already seen everything.”
“shut up,” but you smiled weakly even if it made your cheek hurt.
the skin where kelli had kicked you was turning an alarming shade of purple. luke tried to touch it, but you let out a sharp breath when pain emanated across your ribcage, and he recoiled. 
“okay, we need to get you —”
“i’m fine,” you groaned. you struggled to stand up, but you urged yourself to walk away. in your mind, the scales were already balanced. 
the moral, logical side of you was in danger of yielding to the wicked desire you always tried to suppress — to be with luke, even once more, just like old times. your quest for vengeance could only be stopped by your hunger for something more, and you needed distance from him before you gave in too much.
“i don’t need your help,” you insisted. “i protected you from kelli, and you gave me the sword that saved my life. we’re even.”
you started to limp away, but luke grabbed your side before you could get too far. you yelped at the contact.
“sorry,” he winced. “just — let me at least get you to a hospital.”
“what do i look like, a rockefeller?” you scoffed, and then grimaced when it felt like a giant was crushing you from the inside out. “i can’t afford that. i have some emergency nectar and ambrosia at my place, anyways.”
“let me at least get you back there, then. please.” he grabbed your hand. “i owe you.”
looking into those deep brown eyes, something in your stomach snapped. 
bad habits were always the hardest to break.
“fine,” you coughed. “but one wrong move, and i swear: i’ll go full vampire slayer and pierce a wooden stake through your heart.”
luke nodded once, lips curling into a smile. “seems fair.”
you groaned as luke wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you steady, his hold terribly familiar as he carried you back home. 
(vii. he loved you — and you weren’t sure if that was a fact or a weapon)
your apartment was only a few blocks away. luke must have gotten stronger, because he was able to carry you up the fire escape to avoid too much attention.
“i’m not sure if my roommate is home,” you whispered as luke set you down on the carpet by your bed. “so we should try and be quiet.”
you told him where you kept the supplies. he snuck away and emerged from the bathroom a minute later with clean hands and a first-aid  kit.
luke knelt down in front of you. 
“can i take your shirt off?” 
you nodded, trying to keep your eyes from fluttering closed. you were so bloodied up, more so than you initially let on, so you let luke do whatever he needed to do. he took off your shirt, assessed your injury and apologized when the pressure from his fingers made you wince. he wiped the blood off your lips and coaxed your mouth open to feed you some ambrosia, offer you a sip of nectar. 
there was no doubt about it: luke was taking care of you.
at first, you imagined your bones stitching themselves back together, and maybe some pieces of your heart, too. 
what were the odds that he was manipulating you, though? certainly not zero.
and then you noticed something when he reached over to place the canteen of nectar back with the kit. he was moving slowly, his breathing shallow and fresh blood seeping through his shirt.
“wait. what happened?”
“nothing,” he winced. luke was always good at hiding his pain.
“luke.”
“it was a few days ago. a hellhound bit me when i was trying to escape from….”
kronos’ army. he didn’t need to say it for either of you to remember. 
wordlessly, you switched your positions, led him to prop himself up on the bed frame while you crouched in front of him. 
“can i take this off?”
luke nodded. 
the first thing you noticed was that his muscles were more defined, yet his body was more beat-up than you'd ever seen it. there was a pretty nasty bruise on his shoulder. your eyes traveled down to the bitemark at his hip, and the haphazard stitching job luke must have done to himself. it looked like it could be infected, and with the activity from today, it was no wonder the wound reopened.
like he had done to you just seconds before, you took care of him.
“so…how are our friends?” he exhaled as you ran a cloth over his skin to clean off some of the blood.
our friends. it didn’t feel right that luke could still call them that. 
“i’m guessing you know what happened to chris….” luke grimaced, and you hoped he felt a little guilty at sending one of his best friends into a madness-inducing labyrinth. “clarisse and lena broke up, and neither of them will tell me why. beck is doing fine, always coming up with stuff in the forges. i guess that’s as good as anyone can be now, inventing new weapons for a war none of us wanted.”
you couldn’t help but add that last part. 
“and the kids?” luke asked as though you were divorce parents and he lost the custody battle. 
you looked up at the gray streak in luke’s own hair, remembering that he had manipulated annabeth and percy to hold the weight of the world, a burden that they couldn’t seem to shake.
it made you more than a little uneasy, luke showing any sense of caring for the people he seemed to leave behind and hurt so easily. you wished he hadn’t been so tender and attentive, like all the fighting and animosity had been a bad dream. 
luke just had to make everything so complicated.
“they’re fine, all things considered.”
you didn’t offer anything more, anything less. 
he was quiet for a moment.
“you seem to be doing alright, though?”
you ignored the question completely that time, focusing on getting the job done. you gave luke some ambrosia and nectar, watched as the infection magically disappeared. the wound didn’t completely heal, and there were many bruises that lingered. you were about to give luke some more when he shook his head. 
"you should save the rest for emergencies," he suggested, chin jutting towards your diminishing supplies. "in case something happens."
"is that a threat, castellan?" you asked, only half-joking. 
"no." luke reached out to touch your face, perhaps a move to reassure you, but then he redirected himself. "besides, i'll be fine. just need to cover it with some gauze." 
"you should take a shower before, then. i'll see what we have to eat." 
you helped him up, and sent luke into the bathroom. you changed into clean clothes before going to look for some food.
the ambrosia and nectar made your body feel more powerful than it had in days, even before getting kicked around by a demon cheerleader. no wonder the gods felt invincible, if that was their diet. meanwhile, all you had in your kitchen was a half-empty box of cinnamon poptarts and packets of instant coffee. 
you could hear your roommate singing from behind her closed door. you were quiet in toasting the breakfast pastries, and then slithered back into your room to look for something that would fit luke.
luke didn't hear you knock, so you just entered and closed the door behind you gently. on the bathroom counter, you set a pair of sweatpants that an ex had left behind, along with an oversized shirt of yours. before you could leave, there was a knock on the door. luke heard this one, and poked his head from behind the shower curtain. you gestured at him that you’d take care of it. he nodded, and closed the curtain again.
"yeah?"
"do you have any tampons in there?" your roommate's voice was muffled through the door.
"yeah," you replied. "i'll be out in a minute."
"do you mind if i just come in now? i'm bleeding out, out here." 
you were about to protest, but the doorknob started to turn, and you panicked. you slipped behind the shower curtain with luke, who looked at you wide-eyed. you placed your hand over his mouth before he could say anything. 
you were lucky earlier, that stella's mind was so preoccupied she didn't notice how beat-up luke was. you didn't want to take another chance. you didn't need your roommate asking questions. 
once the sounds of shuffling through cupboards stopped, and you heard a small thank you followed by the door closing, luke bit your palm.
"ow!" you hissed, pulling away from him.
"she's gone,” luke shrugged. “you don't need to muzzle me anymore.”
you rolled your eyes. “i put some clothes out for you, and a clean towel.”
luke caught your wrist before you could leave. 
“wait. my shoulder is killing me. do you mind…would you maybe help me….” 
his question trailed off, and you furrowed your brow when he pointed the shampoo bottle in your direction.
“you practically carried me down 3 blocks and up 4 flights of stairs, but you’re too hurt to wash your own hair?”
“i guess the pain just caught up with me.” his cheeks flushed and he cleared his throat. “sorry, i shouldn’t have —”
something pinched in your chest, hearing him stumble for forgiveness, even if it was so mundane. you caught yourself saying:
“i’ll do it.” 
before you could decide if it was a bad idea or not. you got rid of your shorts and tied your shirt up around your waist to prevent the clothes from getting too wet. luke blushed even more at your panties and exposed stomach, as if he wasn’t fully naked — which you were, of course, trying to ignore.
neither of you said anything as you focused on the task at hand, massaging shampoo and then conditioner into luke’s curls until they were rid of the grime trapped within. all you heard were luke’s soft sighs as your fingers scraped across his scalp and steady stream of water hitting the bathroom tiles. luke seemed so relaxed that his eyelids fluttered closed, and he almost toppled over. with your own sudsy hands, you brought his hands to sit at your waist, steadying him. 
the space was a little foggy, slightly too warm. you and luke had been intimate before, but never like this. it was almost enough to make you forget.
once all the soap was washed away, you brushed your fingers over the scar on his face, down to the sword tattooed along his collarbone, before you realized what you were doing.
“sorry,” you whispered, pulling your hand away.
“it’s okay,” he hummed, and he moved his hand up to brush against the very same tattoo you had on your sternum, touch burning through a layer of cotton.
you wanted his hands elsewhere — around your neck, between your legs.
the water was running cold by then, and it jolted you back to reality.
you had to keep your desires in check. luke was manipulative and cruel and ruthless — you were enemies, not friends or lovers. you weren’t supposed to want him carnally.
you reached behind him to turn the shower off without another word, and left the bathroom so he could get dressed. 
neither of you were armed, but the situation was dangerous. you were barely healing from the claw marks luke left on your life and yet…. 
part of you wanted him to dig his fingers back into those wounds — to feel him again, even if it bled you dry in the end. 
luke’s sword, backbiter, leaned against your windowsill, a menacing reminder of who he had aligned himself with. luke was essentially kronos’ right hand man. he was your enemy.
what were you doing, bringing him into your home, taking care of him and letting him do the same to you?
leaving yourself vulnerable to him, letting your guard down?
now that you thought of it, if his guard was down, you could probably grab your own knife and just —
you heard luke clear his throat and you turned to see him standing in your doorway, shirtless and sweatpants hanging low. it was embarrassing how much you wanted to lap up the drop of water traveling down his chest.
luke must have noticed, so cleared his throat again. your body felt warm all over when you met his gaze, and he gave you an annoyingly confident smirk.
“so, here’s the thing. i’m pretty sure you’re either thinking about wanting to kill me, or wanting to fuck me.” 
you rolled your eyes at his arrogance, but couldn’t help but play along. 
“sounds like you’ve accepted your fate either way.”
“well, i do have a preference,” he quipped. “i just don’t particularly care as long as it's in your hands.”
it didn’t get past you that luke was checking you out, too, eye trailing over the exposed skin of your legs and lingering on where the t-shirt hugged your chest. 
how bad would it be to, for one night, indulge? no concern about what was right or wrong, about titans or gods; no worries about what a prophecy foretold or which side of a war you’re on. 
just you and luke: giving into your own twisted desires, and dealing with the consequences later.
another droplet trickled down luke’s torso. it disappeared underneath the band of his sweatpants, and you just couldn’t take it anymore.
you strode over to him, about to crash your lips into his when —
luke stopped you with a hand wrapped around your neck.
“no kissing,” he warned. 
“what’s the matter?” you smirked. “i thought you liked it when i bite. worried that you’ll turn away from the dark side if i do?”
luke swallowed thickly.
you were taunting him, relishing in how his breath caught in his throat and gaze seemed fixed on your lips.
it was cute, how luke tried to hold onto some semblance of control, but couldn’t hide the slight tremble in his voice. 
“no kissing. that’s my only condition.”
“okay.” you took off your shirt, positioned yourself on the bed to punctuate your point. “as long as you’re fine sleeping with the enemy, castellan.”
luke stared for a few seconds before accepting his fate. 
he caged you in with his arms, settling his hips between your legs. his lips traveled down your tattooed sternum, nipping and sucking and re-bruising your skin until he reached the waistband of your panties. luke pulled it up with his teeth, the elastic snapping back when he let go. you whined his name and he looked up at you with dark eyes. 
“can i?” his breath fanned over your navel, his nails digging into your hips as he waited for your answer.  
“yes. please.”
you hadn’t meant to sound so desperate, but you could feel luke smirk against your inner thigh before sinking his teeth into it. you whimpered, and luke salved his tongue over the area to ease the sting before removing your underwear. he positioned your legs over his shoulder for better access to where you needed him most.
luke manipulated his tongue and fingers in all the ways he knew ruined you. in return, you gripped his black curls, tightly, and uttered praise in all the ways you knew ruined him. 
“just like that, pretty boy,” you encouraged, practically melting into the mattress. it felt so good — dangerously good — to be devoured by luke. “keep doing a good job and i’ll return the favor later.”
luke’s moan vibrated throughout your body and he became harsher, bringing you over the edge. he left a few more bites on your body on his way up to meet you and when he did, luke’s lips and chin were still shining with your release.
you leaned forward slightly to lick it up. you ghosted your mouth over his, and luke groaned when you pulled away.
“no kissing,” you mocked and ran your thumb over his tattooed collarbone. 
luke tightened his grip on your hips, surely leaving bruises for later. his eyes feral, his curls a terrible mess, when he grumbled:
“you’re such a —”
you twisted your calf around luke’s leg and you flipped your positions before he could finish his sentence. he grunted as his back hit the mattress. 
“don’t worry, sweetheart. i’ll still take care of you,” you drawled, starting to trail your tongue down luke’s body, occasionally incorporating your teeth or sucking brutally, imprinting a constellation of bites and bruises. his skin smelled like your pomegranate mango body wash, and it was more than a little intoxicating.
you weren’t soft or gentle, because you knew how luke liked you — rough, raw, a little ruthless. luke once told you that the wounds you left on his body weren’t the type that left him bitter; they were the type of wounds he wished would never heal.   
in a moment of weakness, you left a kiss — just one — on the semi-healed wound on his hip. luke sighed at the gesture and reached a hand down to gently brush his fingers against your cheek. 
“i missed you so much, karma,” luke almost sobbed. 
slightly shaken out of your lust, you weren’t sure whether to smirk at the hold you had on him, or sob at the reality that you missed him too. 
sensing your hesitation, luke removed his hand and told you to continue.  
you made quick work of luke’s sweatpants. luke, already hard and throbbing, didn’t last long with your lips wrapped around him. you swallowed him whole, and then some. 
“always such a good girl for me,” luke praised when you were face to face with him once more. his thumb swiped over your wet lips to gather what you missed. you granted him access to push into your mouth, and luke groaned when you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked his thumb clean. your teeth scraped the skin on his way out. 
what followed was a brief squabble over who should be on top. you won out. 
there you were, luke sitting up against the headboard, you on his lap with his length nestled in your cunt. you scraped your nails down luke’s chest, and then curled your hands around the base of his neck. he gripped either side of your waist, thumbs pressing circles into your back encouragingly. luke looked up at you in awe, desperate sighs leaving his mouth as you rutted your hips against his. it felt sinful and wonderful, feeling luke buried deep inside you again, stretching you deliciously. the two of you exchanging animalistic grunts as you used the other's body, chased your high.
when you rolled your hips into his at just the right angle, luke’s moans turned into whines. 
“fuck it. please — kiss me.”
you stilled your hips, and luke whined some more. “are you sure?” you asked, breathing heavily.
luke nodded and gently moved you to lay on your back with him hovering over you. he leaned close, nudging the tip of his nose against yours. 
“please,” luke pleaded once more.
his brown eyes looked down at you with such hunger and passion, something deep within you ached. 
you kissed each other harshly, then. you still tasted him on your tongue and yourself on his. his sharp nose cut into your cheek, mouth attacking yours and vice versa. your nails pierced the skin of his shoulder as he resumed thrusting into you at a vicious pace. luke kept gnawing on your bottom lip until he made you bleed. you groaned, and he slipped his tongue back into your mouth to savor your coppery taste.
yes, luke could also be rough and raw and a little ruthless — which you always loved. but you knew, regardless, you were safe with him in that moment. all he wanted was for you to feel good.
you yanked his curls to force luke to look at you. he whimpered at having to detach himself from your lips.
“i missed you too, tiger,” you finally admitted, calling him that old affectionate nickname you promised yourself you would never use again.  “i missed you so fucking much.” 
luke gave you that troublesome smile of his. you connected your lips once more. you wrapped your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer, and luke wrapped an arm around your back to do the same. 
it wasn’t long until you both reached your peak, collapsing back onto the soft mattress, chests heaving. you each lied down on your side, facing each other. you admired luke’s mess of curls, his swollen-kiss-bitten lips, the rose-petal bruises you had left.
you wished the post-sex haze lasted longer, but then luke had to disturb it by saying:
“what you said earlier — i never think of you as my enemy, you know.”
you sighed and covered your face with your hand. “luke —”
“never,” luke insisted. he inched closer, took your hand in his and held it to his chest. 
you were overwhelmed by his heartbeat, strong and fast, so you pulled yourself away.
“we’re fighting on different sides,” you pointed out.
you could’ve said more, but all the things that have been said and done already hung heavy in the air, reoccupying the space between you and bursting your brief moment of peace.
“but we’ve always been fighting for the same thing.”
maybe that was true.
in theory, you weren’t against overthrowing the gods. but you couldn't reconcile with everything luke had done, what he was willing to do. you couldn't let your friends and thousands of innocent people die in the name of divine beings who valued power and control over all else. you couldn't hurt or betray people you loved for the sake of revenge. you couldn't turn that love against them, the way luke had, in search of justice. 
deep down, you knew it wasn’t right to have him there in bed with you. if it was so wicked, sinful, treacherous — then why did you want him to stay?
“i’m not sure they have a word for what we are,” you concede, returning to the conversation moments ago. 
"i guess not."
you let luke bring you into his arms that time. you rested your head against his chest. his heartbeat still steady, but a little slower. you idly traced your fingers across the marks you left on him, and you avoided the ones you didn't.
"how's your shoulder?" 
"it's okay," luke sighed. he lifted your chin between his thumb and forefinger. "whatever we are: i love you." 
those weren’t the words that were meant to make you sick, but your stomach churned — with nausea or desire, you weren’t sure.
you moved to straddle his hips. your eyes glanced over a scar you didn't register until now. the cut you had sliced across his cheek that afternoon he tried to kill percy, and then ran away from camp. you had a similar one that he had given you during that same struggle. 
matching tattoos, matching scars. there really was no word for what you and luke were to each other. 
"i love you too.”
at some point throughout the night, with luke’s strong arms wrapped around you and your legs intertwined beneath tangled sheets, it occurred to you that luke must have tracked you down for a particular reason.
maybe he was here to convince you to join kronos' army, to help him overthrow the gods and burn the world as you knew it; maybe he was here to break your heart all over again, just for the sick thrill of it; maybe he did just want to have one more night together, enemies or otherwise. maybe, maybe, maybe.
luke’s soft snores lulled you to sleep, and you couldn’t bring yourself to care about the scales of justice.
you'd figure it out in the morning. then you'd decide whether or not he deserved a blade to the heart.
1K notes · View notes
perlelune · 5 months
Text
Creep | Oliver Quick
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Though you can’t grasp exactly what, you know something is very off with your boyfriend’s peculiar new friend.
Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, Stalking, Voyeurism, Cheating, Coercion, Blackmail, Drinking, Smoking, Unhealthy Relationship Dynamic
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
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Felix’s long digits drum over your back as he pouts, “You really brought me here just to study, babe?” His raspy, flirtatious tone tugs your lips skyward. Still, your attention doesn’t stray from your laptop screen. Sentences bleed from your fingertips at a quick-fire pace. A little under three thousand words on Bentham’s theory of utilitarianism, due by Monday. The topic isn’t exactly thrilling but you have to hand it over in time.
“If I don’t ace this essay, I’m going to fail this class,” you absently reply. Failure. The one thing you literally can’t afford right now, though you forbear sharing that particular bit with Felix. Best he perceives your single-minded determination as a core stare of your character rather than what it actually is…a necessity, one born of dire circumstances.
He takes a long drag off his cigarette. Grey smoke floats around you, smudging the words on your screen. You repress tears as your eyes burn. You wished he’d curb the nasty habit. You’ve dropped hints before.
But no one tells Felix Catton what to do. Many would kill to even breathe the same nicotin-infused air as him. Felix is the sun and everyone on campus craves to be in his orbit, eager for the slightest chance to bask in his warmth, shower in his light.
You’re no different. The day he asked you out, a little over a year ago, you pinched yourself twice to make sure you weren’t dreaming. Felix Catton wanted…you? It couldn’t be real. 
This was the boy you held in your heart for a decade, the only one you ever had eyes for.
And while your relationship suffered its share of hardships, namely Felix’s wandering eyes, you couldn’t picture life without him at your side.
He’s your everything.
He could hurt you a thousand times and you’d forgive him each of those times.
Felix’s bare shoulder grazes yours as he states, “They won’t fail you, not with who your dad is.”
Your stomach knots with his comment. Still, you shrug, pretending away the guilt steadily gnawing your insides.
“I don’t want to get special treatment just because of my family name, Felix,” you say, trying your best to sound nonchalant.
Though his smile never falters, his jaw ticks. “And I do?”
The ice in his tone scatters in your veins. Immediately, you discard your homework, concerned gaze finding his.
“I’m not saying that.” When Felix doesn’t respond, panic roars inside you. You touch his exposed chest to bring his attention to you. He doesn’t move. “I didn’t say that.”
A thick blanket of silence engulfs the room and your airways constrict. It feels as if your heart is on the verge of collapse as you wait for a reaction from your boyfriend, his chestnut gaze glued to the ceiling.
His head turns to you slowly. He releases a large puff of smoke in your face. Tears rush to your eyes, filling them to the brim.
Felix shrugs.
“It sounded like you did. A little. But that’s okay.” His tone is mellow in that way that oozes displeasure. “I’m just a legacy kid getting by on his trust fund and good looks, right?”
Your mouth quakes and he bursts out a chuckle. He cups your cheek, a wide grin breaking onto his face. “I’m just fucking with you, babe.”
You swallow your budding tears, wiping your eyes swiftly as Felix reaches around you to put out his cig in the ashtray.
You punch him in the chest, your own laughter bubbling out.
“You’re an arsehole.”
His grin expands. Twining your fingers with his, Felix’s tone gets softer.
“I wanted to ask…” He trails off, brown gaze clinging to yours. “Can Ollie come to the party you and Anabel are throwing tonight?”
You tilt your head in befuddlement. “Ollie?”
He traces the lines in your palm, adding absently, “Yeah, Oliver. I told you about him. Saved my arse when my bike broke.”
“Right, bike guy,” you say, remembrance hitting you. You tilt your head. “What’s he like?”
Felix sighs.
“He doesn't have too many friends.  He's also had a rough upbringing. So I thought we could help him a little, you know?” You study him. However casual your boyfriend attempts to sound, you instantly recognize what this is. Yet another try at playing knight in shining armor. Whoever this Oliver guy is, he’s now become your boyfriend’s side project. His charity case possibly.
“He’s not like us so we could try to be nice.”
Not like us. You mask your discomfort with a bright smile. 
About a year ago, your dad’s company filed for bankruptcy. Thankfully your scholarship still allows you to attend Oxford, but your lifestyle has drastically changed. No more shopping sprees. No more casual leisure trips to Europe. No more frivolous spendings with daddy’s black card.
The last straw was when your father emptied every account, including your trust, and left the country without as much as a goodbye text. Since those events, your mother has taken refuge at the bottom of a whisky bottle. You can barely get a hold of her these days.
So not only are you penniless, you might as well be an orphan. 
Felix is all you have left. You can’t risk him finding out the truth. He can never know about the part time jobs you’ve had to take to cover tuition costs or the small flat your mum had to move into after your father had to sell the family manor. He might think you’re beneath him now, working class, destitute. Or worse, he might pity you, treat you like a charity case too. 
You follow the curve of his dark brow with your thumb, sweeping over his silver stud.
“Hm, sure. I can be nice,” you promise.
“I know you can,” he teases, large hands pulling on your thighs to spread you across his lap.
You squeal before scolding him, “Felix…I really really need to finish this essay.”
His eyes darken with lust as he licks his lips. He wiggles his hips, causing the bulge in his jeans to rub against your clothed center. Your breath hitches. “And I really really need you to take care of this for me.” His hoarse, desperate inflection makes your core clench. His palms run over your thighs beneath your short dress. “Just five minutes? Come on, I’ve been hard for like an hour, babe.”
He hums, already playfully fiddling with the edge of your lace panties.
“It’s your fault for wearing this fucking pink dress. You know the way your ass looks in it drives me crazy.”
You resolve crumbles beneath Felix’s heated stare. You can never tell him no. And he knows that. Releasing a deep sigh, you relent.
“Five minutes,” you offer.
He slides one finger inside your weeping core. As you draw a sharp breath, Felix beams.
“It’s all I need,” he coos.
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The party’s at his height, loud music blasting from the gigantic speakers and glow sticks waving in the pitch blackness of the underground cellar. You thread your way between tipsy students, carrying two cups of beer in your hands. 
As you reach the VIP corner, you hand Annabel her drink. The redhead mumbles her thanks as she bobs her head to the music. You peer at your surroundings, glad to see everyone having fun. 
It’s a frank success. Pride trickles inside you at that. It’s been hard collecting pockets of free time to put it together between classes and assignments. But you did it. 
Truthfully, you’re also craving some fun tonight. All you’ve done lately is studying. You miss the days when you were more carefree, unconcerned about your grades deciding the course of your future.
You glance down at your watch, scowling as you notice the time. He was supposed to be here three hours ago.
“Where’s Felix?” you ask Venetia. Your boyfriend’s sister  lazily opens her eyes, a drunken smile spreading onto her lips. She shrugs. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen him around.” 
You pivot to the rest of the group. 
“Have you guys seen him tonight?”
Annabel shakes her head apologetically while Farleigh brings his blunt to his mouth with a taunting smile.
“Desperate much?” he teases.
“Farleigh, come on,” Anabel chastises. She bumps her shoulder into yours, her expression sympathetic. “Don’t mind him, you know he’s always a jerk after a few drinks.”
Farleigh sighs. “Darling, you know I love you. It was just a joke.”
“A joke, right…” you mumble. Your cheeks heat though you try not to let your feelings show. Still, Farleigh’s words linger in your head. Maybe you’re being too clingy. It’s something you should mind.  What if you became too needy and Felix grew bored of you? It’s not like he wouldn’t find a replacement for you in a heartbeat.
You lie back on the plush couch, sipping from your beer cup as your friends continue their chat. The conversation has long since stopped making sense, fueled by drug-inspired ramblings. Your attention is halved by your straying train of thoughts, the current whereabouts of your boyfriend still at the forefront of your brain.
Another hour flies by before Felix’s towering frame finally pierces through the crowd. A smaller boy trails behind him, his expression mirroring that of a lost puppy. He adjusts his glasses, awkwardly avoiding the drunken bodies around him. The word “Sorry” doesn’t stop pouring from his mouth. 
You realize this must be Oliver. Astonishment flows through you. This isn’t the kind of company Felix traditionally keeps. But you elect to try your best to be nice and welcoming.
It’s what Felix asked of you after all. Besides, entering a new group of people cannot be easy, your tight-knit circle having known each other since kindergarten for some.
You don’t miss Anabel’s fleeting,  condescending glance as she takes in Oliver though. Getting her assent to let him come had been a hassle, as she regards him as some weird, scholarship kid who’d just bring the mood down. But you insisted and she finally caved.
You trade a meaningful look with her, silently nudging her to be nice. The redhead practically rolls her eyes but squeezes her lips shut. Annabel may be one of your best friends but even you’re aware that she can be quite snobbish at times. 
A sullen expression decorates your face as Felix enters the private booth. 
“You’re late,” you blurt out. Farleigh snickers behind you and your cheeks flare. But everything around you fades as Felix grabs your face and presses feverish lips over yours. Your irritation melts in the heat of the passionate kiss. 
When he frees your mouth, his thumb runs over your swollen bottom lip as he explains casually, “Yeah we were just hanging out and we lost track of time.”
He then introduces the shy boy.
“That’s Ollie.”
“Nice to meet you,” he stutters.
“Likewise,’ you reply smiling.
You gauge him. Beneath the large glasses, you note the slanted blue eyes and soft, round boyish features. Felix’s friend is cute. If only he weren’t so painfully awkward. 
“You should sit with us. There’s plenty of space,” you say. 
Felix draws you onto his lap as he sits. Oliver takes a nervous seat next to the two of you. His eyes keep rising to Felix, as if seeking perpetual approval from your boyfriend. You’re a little perplexed. Farleigh hands Felix a spliff and he lets his hand rest on your thigh while taking a long drag from it.
“So, where are you from exactly?” you ask Oliver.
His gaze on you and Felix is sharp, somehow constantly darting to where your boyfriend’s holding you.
“Prescott,” he answers.
You mull over his response. It’s a few hours away from Oxford. You don’t know much about it. Though, based on what Felix implied about the way he grew up, you expected him to originate from a rougher area. Prescott doesn’t seem too awful.
“Prescott? They must be proud of you back home, especially your parents.”
“Probably not, actually.”
Your curiosity is piqued. “Why are you saying that?”
Oliver shrugs. His eyes find the floor before meeting yours again.
“Just don’t talk to them much,” he mutters. “They got problems and stuff…”
You slant your head. “Problems?”
Felix’s hand tightens atop your thigh. “Babe, that’s enough prying, don’t you think?”
“I’m just making conversation, trying to get to know him.”
“You’re embarrassing him, babe.”
Oliver’s blue gaze lifts to yours, his face unreadable.
“No, it’s fine,” he says, though you detect a slight edge to his timbre that wasn’t there before. A small smile tugs his lips. “I don’t mind questions. Got nothing to hide.”
You nod. An icy tickle blooms at the base of your spine, scattering outward as Oliver’s intense focus doesn’t leave you. You turn away, shifting your attention to your boyfriend. Throughout the entire night, a strange sensation thunders through you, like the lightning before the storm. You can’t explain it. It’s like the world shifted off its axis, though you can’t pinpoint the reason.
Thankfully the strangeness is cast aside by Felix’s soft lips and heady, masculine scent. As the party goes on in the background, the two of you sneak away. You end up making out in a dark corner, Felix’s greedy hands slipping beneath your short skirt to grab a fistful of your ass. He pinches your flesh and you squeal.
A warm chuckle spills from his lips as he peppers tender kisses alongside your neck.
“Let’s go back to my dorm,” he whispers.
You readily agree. He takes your hand and the two of you hitch a ride back to campus. The two of you giggle in the backseat of the car every time the driver berates you for getting too handsy with each other. You laugh it off all the way back to his room, lips locking as you cross the threshold. You jump to wrap your legs around Felix’s tapered waist. He purrs, his hands latching around your hips, pulling you closer. He pushes you against a wall, tracing a scorching path in the valley between your breasts. Moaning, you toss your head back. 
As your eyes flutter however, you catch sight of a silhouette standing outside Felix’s window. Your heart bounces, your eyes growing saucer-wide. You gasp and leap away from Felix. 
“What the fuck?” he curses as you race to the window. Chest pulsing with your quick heartbeats, you peel the window open to peek outside. The cold night air whisks inside the room. Goosebumps break out on your skin.
Your gaze wanders, searching the darkness. Confusion swells within you as you find nothing. Nothing but greenery, the same trees and grass flanking your path whenever you stroll through campus. 
“There was someone outside, w-watching us,” you stammer.
Felix’s frustrated breath grazes the back of your neck. “Babe, there’s no one out there.”
You squint, dumbfounded when nothing but pitch blackness stares back at you. For a minute, you really believed someone stood there. In fact, whoever they were bore a peculiar resemblance to…
You catch yourself before finishing the thought.
Now that’s just crazy.
“But I saw…”
Felix shifts your body towards him. He cups your cheeks and rasps, “Hey. Hey, look at me. There’s no one but us here.” His lips collide with yours. He starts groping you again and you push him off  you, stunned that he wants to have sex at a time like this.
“No, Felix, I-I can’t.”
He stumbles back and scoffs, “Oh.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you inquire, glowering at him.
His gaze flicks over you, his expression cold. “All that teasing just to leave me high and dry?”
“Felix, wait…”
He avoids your touch, collecting his jacket from the bed when your fingers stretch towards him.
“It’s fine. I’m just gonna have a smoke. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Your stomach sinks.
“O-Okay,” you say as your hand retreats to your side.
The door slams shut and you collapse on Felix’s bed. Your eyes veer to the window once more. You could have sworn you caught a glimpse of someone. Maybe all those late nights writing essays and revising for the upcoming exams are slowly catching up to you, dragging you to the brink of madness.
Felix doesn’t call you the following day. Of course he doesn’t. You broke the mood. You acted weird. What reason does he have to want to be around you again? It’s bad enough you neglected him in favor of your assignments and club activities for the last few weeks. Now you can’t even enjoy the sparse time you have together.
Still, you flip your phone open all day long, longing for a word from him, any trivial, insignificant word.
You get nothing. 
You gloomily drag your feet around campus and somehow find your way in one of the empty student lounges, save Farleigh and Venetia. Lying flat on the carpeted floor, eyes glued to the ceiling, the two of them are sharing a spliff. You wedge yourself between them, lying on your back also. You steal the roll from Venetia’s fingers and bring it to your lips. Your throat burns and you cough as you inhale a puff. Venetia’s lips curve upward as your eyes water.
“You gotta take it easy the first time,” she says, amusement lighting her olive orbs. “Tiny inhales.” She shows you how and you mimic her gestures. You go slower the second time and a pleasant numbness sets into your limbs. Your eyes shut. You kind of get it now. For the first time in several weeks, your mind’s almost at rest, your stormy thoughts quieted. 
“You don’t smoke,” Farleigh notes near you.
“I am today.”
“You guys will be fine,” Venetia assures. “You’re always fine.”
Your eyes open, settling on the pristine white ceiling. 
“I fucking hate him sometimes.” You pause, sucking a deep breath. “But I love him more.”
“Yep, that’s Felix,” they utter in unison.
You heave out a weary sigh. They grew up with him. They know better than anyone, how sweet and wonderful he can be, but also cruel and careless sometimes.
Just like the sun, Felix’s light can also burn whoever gets too close. 
For a while, the three of you hang out in silence, the spliff switching hands every once in a while. Eventually, each of them rises, leaving you to your mopey thoughts. 
Before taking his leave however, Farleigh whispers in your ear,
“Oh and darling, next time you wear a rental…make sure the price tag isn’t sticking out. It gives you away.”
You sit up immediately. A smile dances on the boy’s lips as he disappears. You grab the back of your neck, face warming as you feel the tag poking through the collar of your shirt.
You nearly forgot you’re due to return the designer piece in two days’ time. You can’t believe someone noticed. Though you suppose if anybody would, it’d be Farleigh. Nothing gets past his keen eye. You surmise it was a necessity with the way he grew up. Learning to read people, knowing what makes them tick, being able to spot a pretender from a mile away…which you are now.
Maybe it’s ludicrous, acting like you can still afford to live like this, like your life wasn’t turned upside down.
Still, you can’t fathom the alternative. The judgement, the pity, from your friends…from Felix. The thought alone makes you sick. The echo of Anabel’s voice as she disparaged Oliver’s background a few days ago never left you. 
Dunno what Felix even sees in him. He’s some weird scholarship kid who buys his clothes at Oxfam.
That was harsh…and made you wonder what your best friend would have to say about your current situation. 
So you’d rather lie, even if you sometimes look like a fool doing so.
You swallow a wide lungful, willing yourself to be calm. You repeat the mantra, again and again. You’re okay. You’re okay. You just need to keep your grades up and get through the semester.
The rest of the week is hell. Felix all but ignores you, not even sparing you a glance when he brushes past you in the university corridors. The itch to talk to him sears inside you. Unfortunately, he’s always surrounded by a swarm of people, the center of attention as usual, making approaching him near impossible. You can’t picture bringing up your relationship problems in front of so many eyes.
Besides, you don’t want to project desperation, Farleigh’s pointed gibe still resonating in your mind. You need to play it cool, wrap yourself in a disguise of indifference…despite the way you wither away every second he’s not texting you back. 
The agonizing wait is made worse by him. He’s everywhere now. Wherever Felix goes, he goes too. Oliver Quick has essentially become your boyfriend’s shadow. Whether in class, at pub meetups, at parties, the quiet, nervous boy  never abandons Felix’s side, always peering up at him with those round baby blues of his, a strange mix of admiration, devotion and…something else you can’t pinpoint etched on his face.
It’s sort of creepy in your opinion. 
Though you’d never say it aloud. For some reason, Oliver’s his new toy. And you’re acutely aware of how Felix is with his toys. He plays with them for a while then moves on to the next fancy, shiny new one. He did it to Eddie before. Now Oliver. 
And maybe it’ll be your turn one day…if you don’t do something. 
It’s how you end up in front of his dorm one night, already tipsy from half a bottle of vodka. Liquid courage to get you to knock on his door. It’s pathetic. Of course it is, but you just can’t wait anymore. 
You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and shaking off your nerves. Your knuckles are less than an inch from the door when a broken whimper reaches you from the other side of Felix’s door. 
Brows furrowing, you place your ear against the wood. You hear a moan this time. Deep, distinctive, masculine…familiar. Your heart stops. 
You plummet to your knees, peering through the keyhole. You feel wrong for doing so, for invading Felix’s privacy like this. But guilt crumbles beneath the weight of heartbreak at what you witness. 
You almost find yourself wishing you hadn’t looked. Almost.
Rivulets of anguish flow down your face as you watch your best friend and boyfriend lip-locked, practically swallowing each other’s faces. Their clothes aren’t off but the urgent way they’re grinding against each other is a dead giveaway as to what’s to come.
Legs trembling, you stumble back from the door. You shouldn’t have come. This was a mistake. You’re a fool.
You drunkenly stagger through the corridors, clinging to the walls each time you almost trip over your own feet.
You wind up slumped on some stairs, too inebriated to carry yourself much further. Your lids sag as you exhale. More hot tears spill down your cheeks. Your chest aches, a knife piercing through your heart as the memory of Annabel and Felix lost in the throes of passion fleets across your brain. Why are you even shocked? It’s not like you never caught Anabel leering at him while she thought you weren’t looking. And it’s not like Felix is some kind of saint. Still, you can’t help but feel massively betrayed. You thought you meant more to him. You thought they wouldn’t…not with each other.
When your eyes flutter open, you find a pair of intense cobalt orbs studying you.
“Oliver…” you mumble. In your drunken stupor, you don’t bother wondering how he got here, seemingly materializing from thin hair.
He hunkers in front of you. His scent tickles your nose and it twitches. The smell of his cologne is so strikingly reminiscent of the one Felix wears. A wave of emotion engulfs you. Sobs shake your frame as you shrink against the wall.
Oliver’s gaze rises to your weeping face as he questions, “Are you okay?”
“M’fine…” you slur, wiping your snotty nose. You must look a fright, a pathetic heap of tears aimlessly wandering the university corridors.
He tilts his head. “You don’t look fine.”
You consider Oliver. He is cute, which you noticed before. And in the dimly lit stairway, his blue eyes burn even brighter. You loathe that Felix is allowed to hurt you the way he did and can just…keep on. If your friends aren’t off-limits, why would his be?
You bat your lashes at Oliver.
“You got any alcohol?”
His lips curve upward as he rasps, “Would you like me to have alcohol?”
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How did you end up there? The question keeps swirling in your head as Oliver’s mouth hungrily devours yours, his arm snaking around your waist to pull you closer. He trails fevered kisses down your neck and you squirm. As his teeth sink into the flesh at the crook of your neck, you let out a sharp cry. You tug on his dark locks and Oliver growls against your skin. The pain mixes with pleasure in your haze. His tongue then circles where he punctured your flesh, dragging slowly as an elated purr rises from his chest. His hard-on presses into your thigh. Alarm bells ring inside your mind.
It’s all a little too real, you realize. You got carried away. You draw back, pushing against his chest. “Oliver, wait…”
You might as well have said nothing, your words falling to unlistening ears as Oliver grabs your wrists and nudges you on the bed on your back. You peer up at him. Lust darkens his blue gaze, making him appear almost inhuman in the darkness.
Your mouth wobbles.
Pinning your wrists at your sides, Oliver kisses you senseless. Soon his lips are tracing a scorching path down your body, his hands moving to peel off your short skirt and panties.
His attentive gaze doesn’t leave yours as he sluggishly drags the tiny layer of lace down your legs.
His throat bobs when your bare cunt is exposed to him.
Biting his bottom lip, Oliver crawls his way to your core. Your legs quake. There is a strange glow in his eyes that sends chills down your back. 
“Oli-” you start, but the protest dwindles in a helpless whimper when Oiver buries his head between your thighs and flicks his tongue against your bundle of nerves. Oliver’s firm hands clasp around your thighs, keeping you in place when you attempt to close your legs. He greedily eats you out, fingers digging into your soft flesh. He suckles your tender button in his mouth and your eyes roll back. Your fingers get lost in his dark mane as your back arches against the sheets. Oliver’s feverish tongue sweeps around your folds and you grow weaker, slumping against the pillow. 
Quickly, stars dangle in your vision. Your fists tighten around the sheets while your legs turn to jelly. A long breath flows from your lips. 
You don’t remember ever coming that hard before, not even with Felix.
Tingles are still dancing over your legs as a sliver of clarity returns to you.
Oliver’s tongue slowly moves, collecting the remnants of your essence off his lips as a look of sheer bliss decorates his face. You shiver.
You try to move off the bed. “I think that’s enough,” you say, folding your knees.
Oliver’s mouth quirks lopsidedly. “Oh, we’re nowhere near done, luv.”
Much quicker than you, Oliver slithers his way up your body and cages you beneath his frame. He steals your lips in a hungry kiss, trapping your wrists above your head. His fingers are tight enough that you just know it’ll bruise. You taste your own bittersweet flavor on his tongue. His hand creeps under your shirt, groping your tits. He plants urgent pecks on your face, dragging his teeth along your jaw.
“Oliver, please…”  you beseech, shock making your voice shake.
He sinks a finger between your slick walls. Your stomach tightens.
Oliver releases your swollen lips and twists his finger inside your core. Your breath hitches.
He smiles down at you.
“But you’re gushing down there, luv. This is what you want.”
Your face warms. You hate that he’s right, that your body clings to him, making space you wish it didn’t…almost inviting his actions.
But Oliver’s mouth and hands are far too good at knowing which buttons to press to turn you into a whimpering mess. Shame pools in your gut as sharp keens leave your lips.
He pumps inside you at a steady pace, his thumb teasing your heap of sensitive nerves every once in a while, pressing until you cry out. He adds another finger and the air in your lungs falters. His hands feel everywhere at once, his teeth and mouth scattering marks all over your body.
He doesn’t stop until you clench around him, soaking his hand with your juices when you shatter with a high-pitched wail.
You crash over the pillows. Your body is still coming off the high. Half-lidded eyes blindly rise to the ceiling. Oliver yanking off his shirt and discarding his pants doesn’t register, not fully, the entire bottle of vodka you emptied before making your mind slow.
He’s suddenly inside you, his thick length splitting you apart as he places his forearms besides your head.
Your lips part in a quiet shout. It feels like if you might break, your walls aching as they stretch around him.
He begins to rail into you, each of his thrusts blunt and animalistic. As if he were possessed by some beast. You know it’s ludicrous. But as the lewd clapping of your damp skin against his rises each time he buries himself balls-deep inside you…it’s how you feel. Like a wild animal somehow broke free and started rutting into you.
Your head lolls against the pillows, your thoughts going blank every time he grazes your sweet spots. Your fingernails rake down his back. 
“Does Felix fuck you like this?” he rasps. He presses his chest against yours, his cock hitting an angle that draws a lengthy moan from you. A crooked smile ghosts over Oliver’s lips. “Or maybe more like this…” 
His warm breath fans over your earshell.
“Tell me luv… How do our cocks compare?”
When you don’t respond, he roughly shoves inside you, his fingers cinching around your windpipe. You gasp in horror, gaping at him through tear-filled eyes.
“Answer me,” he instructs, his voice deeper than before.
“Y-You’re bigger than he is,” you sputter, struggling to get the words out with his hand squeezing your throat. 
A peculiar blend of excitement and disappointment swims in his gaze when you answer.
You weakly claw at his chest, squirming beneath him. He doesn’t let you go, bending to shove his tongue in your mouth. He drags his tongue over your face, licking your hot tears. Sobs jostle your frame.
“Oliver, please,” you repeat.
He shushes you, framing your chin. His thumb follows the outline of your bottom lip, bleeding and swollen from all his rough kisses. 
“Stop fighting it. Be a good girl.” He showers tender pecks across your collarbone before softly whispering against your temple, “Or I’ll tell Felix everything. That you came onto me, begging me to fuck you.” His devilish smile sears into your skin. “I’ll tell him what a good little slut you were for me.”
Your stomach drops. Oliver collects your tears with his fingertips. He shoves his fingers in his mouth, emitting a throaty moan at the taste of your despair. He then dips those same fingers in your mouth, his pelvis snapping into yours.
“It’s beautiful, how much you love him,” Oliver mumbles, growing harder inside you as a fresh wave of tears brim beneath your lashes. “You’re beautiful. I can see why he always comes back.” He rests his forehead against yours, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. 
“Maybe I’ll keep you for myself when this is all done.”
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The awakening in the early morning is rude, the wicked headache and ache in your limbs reminding you of last night’s events right away. Strips of sunlight sneak between the curtains, caressing your face. The usually pleasant warmth does nothing to soothe your frayed nerves. Your stomach clenches as you peer at your side. Oliver’s completely naked, only wearing the silver chain always around his neck. His arm is lazily spread over your belly. You don’t dare move, fearing he’ll wake up. 
What would you even say?
This is a disaster. You somehow ended up in Oliver’s room and…had sex with him. 
You swallow a shaky sob as your gaze travels low. Your panties are torn, which you didn’t notice last night. At least your clothes can still be worn, lying in a messy heap at the bottom of the bed. Carefully, you writhe your way out of Oliver’s hold and grab your clothes. 
You hastily put your skirt and shirt back on, trying not to cry when you realize you’re going to have to walk back to your dorm without your knickers. Heat rushes to your cheeks. 
You toss a glance behind you, relieved when you find him still sleeping soundly. 
You climb off the bed. Your heart leaps when the mattress squeaks as you rise. 
Pulse quickening, you head for the door. 
Pain radiates through your lower body when you move. You stagger the rest of the way, constantly tugging on your short skirt as you pray not to encounter any strong gust of wind on the way back.
Before leaving,  you look back. 
Oliver’s still sprawled on his side on the bed but his eyes are wide open now. 
No word leaves his mouth as he studies you in silence.
A wide, lazy smile slowly unfans on his lips. 
Your blood turns to ice. Fumbling with the doorknob, you scurry outside the door.
Once you’re outside, you slam the door closed.
You dart panicked glances around the corridor. Relief fills you when you note that it’s empty. For now. It won’t be long before students start milling about.
You shamefully return to your dorm. The entire walk back, paranoia lurks at the edge of your mind. You keep wondering if every stranger you come across can tell what you did.
And you keep hoping not to run across anyone you know.
When you reach your bedroom, you lock the door. You make a beeline for the bathroom. You need a shower, expeditiously. Oliver’s smell still lingers on you. When you catch your disheveled reflection in the bathroom mirror, you’re shocked. You approach the mirror on unsteady legs. You crane your neck, your fingertips skimming over the two puncture wounds on your neck. A cool wave ripples down your back. It’s twisted. You feel like a character in a Polidori’s tale. Except this is reality somehow.
The one where you have to face the fact that you shagged your boyfriend’s new friend…and you’re not even entirely sure that you wanted it. Your mind throbs as you search through your memories. You changed your mind midway through. Oliver did not care.
Oliver did not care…
The ghastly realization has you keel over the toilet bowl to empty the meagre contents of your stomach. You slump to the floor and start quivering over the bathroom floor.
A sudden knock on your door has you rising from the floor.
Your heart skips a beat when you glance through the peephole.
“F-Felix?” you stutter, panic hitting a peak inside you.
His deep voice penetrates through the door.
“Hey, can we talk?” he asks. 
He sounds heartbroken, desperate. You almost unleash a sigh. You recognize this. You’ve been there before. This is a rollercoaster you can never get off of, the thrill when you’re high up entirely too intoxicating.
“Right now is not the best time.”
He heaves out a deep sigh. You can literally picture his kicked puppy expression, even with the door between you two. Your heartstrings flutter as you lean against the door. The craving to toss yourself in his arms wars with the sizzling betrayal still sitting in the pit of your stomach.
“Fuck. Are you still mad at me?”
Swallowing the surge of tears, you reply, “No. Just feeling a bit rough. Had a tad too much to drink last night.”
“I could take care of you…”
You nibble your lip. It’s tempting. He’s done it before. Bought you pastries and showered you with kisses and cuddles until you got better. When he wants, Felix can be the perfect boyfriend. When he wants.
“No,” you say firmly. “What do you want, Felix?”
“Can’t you just let me in, just for a minute, babe?” His pleading inflection shatters your meek fences.
“The park. In two hours,” you concede. “I got microeconomics right now, can’t miss it.”
“Thank you. Thank you.”
He’s overjoyed. You can’t bear it anymore. You race back to the bathroom as another wave of queasiness engulfs your insides.
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Jittery steps lead you through the park as you rejoin him under an oak tree. You spent the last hour in class totally unfocused, your chest tight as you dreaded how this conversation would go.
“Felix,” you greet.
He wraps his arms around you. You remain still in his embrace, the distinctive scent of his cologne floating around you. You feel sick. Now it doesn’t remind you of Felix anymore.
“I really missed you.”
“Didn’t seem like it,” you mumble coolly.
His long exhale tickles your shoulder. “I know. I’m a wanker.”
“More like a selfish arsehole.”
His hold on you slackens as he draws back a little.
A look of hurt and shock covers his face. He isn’t used to you speaking to him so harshly. To him, you’ve only ever been sweet and forgiving. His brows crumple.
“I deserve that.” He scratches the back of his neck. “Listen I… I almost did something awful last night.”
“What thing?” You fiddle with the scarf around your neck. It’s the sole last minute resort you found to conceal the mark decorating your throat.
Of course you know exactly what thing Felix is referring to. You saw it with your own eyes, that thing. If it weren’t for that, you may not be a complete wreck today.
“Doesn’t matter, cause I stopped. It’s not who I want to be anymore.” He cups your face, warm brown gaze diving into yours. “You make me better.”
Words leave your mouth without forethought.
“Who was it this time?”
He hesitates, his jaw tensing. But beneath your heavy stare, he finally caves in.
“It was Annabel.”
“Oh.”
The knife inside your chest twists. It’s one thing to know, to have seen. It’s another to hear it confirmed from your boyfriend’s own mouth. Last night wasn’t some dragged out nightmare; it was reality. When you turn your head, Felix pivots it back to him. 
Sincerity vibrates in his tone. 
“I ended up kicking her out though.” He wipes the single tear that spills down your cheek. “All I could think about was you, the entire time.” He strokes your face. “You’re the only one for me, babe. This is the last time. I’ve never felt this way about anyone. Fuck…” 
You spot something you never heard in Felix’s voice before. Fear. And instantly, you break. 
He leans his forehead against yours.
“I love you,” he states.
You’re dumbstruck. Those words have crossed Felix’s lips at least a thousand times. He’s said them to so many, even strangers…but never to you. 
He came close a few times, but never has he been this clear, firm, his meaning unmistakable. Butterflies swarm your stomach. 
“I love you,” he repeats.
Felix plants a feverish kiss on your lips, leaving them tingling when he releases you. 
“I love you too,” you whisper as your hot breaths mingle.
A sunny smile breaks out on his face.
“No more lies from now on.”
A sinking feeling spreads through you, but you ignore it, returning his smile.
“No more lies,” you echo. Guilt eats at you the second you utter the words.
Felix’s attention veers from you as he waves at someone behind you.
“Hey, Ollie,” he shouts.
The air around you plummets to a few degrees. You go still against Felix, nudging a shaky smile onto your lips.
“I need to go to class,” you chime. 
You don’t even turn around, his presence alone sending your senses into alert.
Confusion scrunches Felix’s features.
“Your next class isn’t for another hour.”
You pat his chest, willing yourself to sound more cheerful than you feel.
“Just got some studying to catch up on beforehand.”
Felix’s fingers cling to yours as you try to leave. 
“I’ll see you tonight at the pub?”
“Sure.”
He doesn’t let you go until you give him another lengthy kiss. You’re uncomfortable, the weight of a certain somebody’s stare drilling holes into your back.
Things recede to relative normalcy, in some ways better than before, and in others worse. Better because of your relationship with Felix. It improves tremendously. He dotes on you more than he ever has, showering you with gifts and small attentions.
Worse because he’s still there, his unsettling presence the dark cloud over your rekindled romance. Each time you’re forced to be around him, there’s a knowing, smug glint dancing in his eyes, a subtle smile tugging his lips skywards. Perpetual fright eclipses your happiness, all because of Oliver Quick.
What if he told Felix everything? This was a mistake and you’re fairly sure you tried to stop it. You still have nightmares about that night, the way he held you down and wrapped his hand around your neck, stealing your air and ability to defend yourself.
You were helpless. Even letting Felix touch you is hard now, the memory of what Oliver did to you seeping through the cracks whenever you expect it least.
He branded you. And while the marks on your body may have faded, the ones engraved on your soul won’t vanish so easily.
It’s a blessing when Felix finally grows bored with him. You have no idea how it occurred. You simply know that they seem stitched at the hip for months then, suddenly, Oliver is gone. Felix shows up at group meetups without him and stops mentioning him altogether.
As if he took an eraser and wiped him from existence. Just like he did to Eddie back in the day.
You’re relieved…for an ephemeral while alas.
Oliver’s dad's abrupt passing changes everything overnight. 
Once more, Felix feels the need to be Oliver’s knight in shining armor. 
And once more the two of them are inseparable. Two peas in a pod.
You elect to take some distance. While you understand that Felix wants to help him, it doesn’t mean you have to. Thankfully, with summer fastly approaching, you won’t have to bear with Oliver Quick for much longer.
As usual, James and Elspeth urged you to come spend the summer at Saltburn, particularly Elspeth who couldn’t stop gushing about what a gorgeous couple you and Felix are. And while you may have tried to decline every other year, finding his family to be an awful lot, this year is different. This year, more than ever before, you long for an escape. 
Even the pits of hell would be a suitable vacation spot if it meant not having to run across Oliver Quick for two whole months. 
It’s a thrilling prospect. These days you can’t be around Felix as much because being around him means being around Oliver, and you just can’t do it. You look forward to having your boyfriend all to yourself. All day long, you dream about lazy afternoons by the pool and cloud-gazing in the grassy fields.
These are the balmy thoughts floating through your mind as you return to your dorm that day after classes end. A carefree smile decorates your face. You can’t wait to finish packing your suitcase. You saved every penny from your part-time job to buy a new swimsuit. And while it made a small dent in your savings, imagining Felix’s face the first time he’ll see you in it makes the tiny sacrifice worth it. 
But the smile on your lips dies when you cross the door to your bedroom. Your jaw drops, the stack of books in your hands crashing to the floor with a loud thud.
“What are you doing here?” you whisper. You shrink against the door, maintaining as wide a distance as the small room allows.
Oliver doesn’t even spare you a glance, casually lying on your bed with one knee bent like it’s his.
“Your taste in books. A bit of a letdown I gotta say, luv,” he says, flipping the yellowed pages of one of your favourite novels.
You lick your lips. “Look, I’m sorry about your dad…but you can’t be here.” He doesn’t leave your bed, engulfed in his reading. Your brows knit. “Get out of my room, Oliver,” you repeat, folding your arms as you approach the bed.
His cobalt gaze finally settles on you. He places the book on the night table, slow and unhurried as he gets to his feet.
Your pulse soars as he inches closer.
“Or what? You’ll scream?” he challenges. He circles you, gauging you in a way that summons a picture of a lion stalking its prey in your head. Your blood curdles when Oliver’s breath caresses your nape. “Then you’ll have to explain what I’m doing in your room and make a scene.” His voice lowers to a taunting rasp. “Do you want to make a scene?”
Your voice comes out shaky. “What do you want?”
Oliver takes a deep breath while placing his hands on your shoulders. His thumbs trace a slow path along the column of your neck. His lips graze your earshell.
“I want you to come over here, lie on this bed and spread your legs like a good girl for me.” You suck in a sharp breath. His fingers drag down your arm as he adds, “I’m feeling…peckish.”
When you don’t move, he releases a deep sigh. 
“...Or I can tell Felix everything.”
Your heart starts hammering in your chest. “What?” you exhale, spinning to face him. 
Oliver smiles. 
“You guys are great right now. He says you’re the best you’ve ever been. No more lies. No more secrets.” Oliver bends close to you, his smile expanding. “How do you think he’ll react when I tell him that we fucked…” He pauses and you hold your breath. “And that you’ve lied to him about your family this entire year.” 
Goosebumps spread across your flesh. You stumble back, your eyes practically bulging out of their sockets. “H-How do you know about that?”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, Oliver takes small steps forward, causing you to retreat until the back of your knees hit the edge of the mattress. He places his hands on each side of you. His  gaze traces the motion of your neck as you swallow the lump in your throat.
“I…It’s not the right time of the month right now,” you lamely offer. 
Oliver’s blue eyes rise as he sinks to his knees in front of you. Tingles bounce over your skin as he rolls your plaid skirt up your thighs.
“And you think it’s something I’m worried about?”
A moan tears from your throat when he buries two fingers inside your core without a warning.
“From now on when I tell you to spread your legs for me, you do as I say,” Oliver informs, his fingers curving inside you. You choke on your breath. “Don’t make me repeat myself. Do you understand?” The threat laced in his tone scatters ice in your veins.
“Y-Yes.”
“Yes, Oliver,” he corrects.
“Yes…Oliver,” you sputter, legs tensing as his digits reach deeper inside you.
“I’m sure it’ll be a summer to remember.”
Between uneven breaths, you stammer, “W-What do you mean?”
He strokes under your thigh absently.
“Oh didn’t Felix tell you?” He bends over you to whisper in your ear. “I’ve been invited to Saltburn, as a guest.”
When Oliver leans away, he’s smiling from ear to ear. Excitement sways in his cobalt orbs as he studies your crestfallen expression. 
“I know. I’m looking forward to it too.” 
2K notes · View notes
leona-hawthorne · 13 days
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mattheo riddle x pregnant reader headcanons !!
suggestive content warning— nothing too much tho, mostly fluff
masterlist
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husband!mattheo who looks at you with wide eyes as if you’d hung the stars in the sky when you tell him you’re pregnant. it’s silence for a few moment before he kisses the shit out of you and holds you for what feels like hours
husband!mattheo who almost screams when your bump starts to become more noticeable, somehow finding you to be even more beautiful than ever before
husband!mattheo who gives up smoking and drinking when you’re pregnant. if you have to quit, he’s doing it with you
husband!mattheo who won’t let you do anything yourself. the tv remote is three inches too far from you? stay right there, he’ll get it. you need to walk to the bathroom? he’s guiding you there as if you can’t walk on your own. need water? don’t you DARE get out of your seat, he’s almost got it for you. oh, and do NOT open that door on your own. that’s what he’s there for!
husband!mattheo who is practically in tears within seconds at your first ultrasound, a petulant frown on his face when you laugh at him
husband!mattheo who is borderline annoyingly overbearing when it comes to your health. “did you take all your prenatal vitamins? did you drink enough water today? what did you eat? do you need help with that?” “matty, i love you but PLEASE shut up.”
husband!mattheo who kisses every inch of you, worshipping your femininity, your beautiful hard-working body. wet hot kisses trail down your arms, linger on your round belly for a while, and eventually find their way between your thighs where he’d stay for hours if you wanted him to. he just wants to make his queen feel good while she’s growing their princess <3
husband!mattheo who snatches you up in his arms and cheers after finding out you’re having a girl. then he takes a victory lap around the backyard as he tries to process the fact that he’s gonna have a daughter
husband!mattheo who lays his head on your belly at night, half asleep and letting out soft murmurs about how beautiful your daughter is gonna be. “gonna look just like mommy, most gorgeous little girl in the world, you’ll have her eyes” “let’s just hope you’re less of a brat than mama is”
husband!mattheo who basically panics more than you when you’re going into labor “HOLY FUCK ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW??”
husband!mattheo who almost faints when he catches a glimpse of the baby’s head coming out of you. “ARE YOU OKAY?” “NO, I’M NOT FUCKING OKAY, MATTHEO!”
husband!mattheo who genuinely cries when he sees you hold your baby for the first time, the most beautiful sight in the world even if you’re exhausted and swollen. he’ll lean down to kiss the both of you on the forehead, his heart swelling with a love he didn’t know he was capable of possessing
husband!mattheo whose crying only gets worse when you let him hold the baby, sniffling and cooing at her. next to you, she’s the prettiest thing he’s ever seen, even as a newborn
husband!mattheo who’s terrified of being a dad, afraid to follow in his father’s footsteps. it was scary even with your constant reassurance, but the second your baby utters the word “dada” as she lay in his arms, his fears melt away
husband!mattheo who is the most girl dad of all the girl dads. as she grows, he’ll play dress up with her, let her do his makeup and paint his nails, and learn the name of every disney princess ever. whatever she wants, to be honest
husband!mattheo who can absolutely never get mad at your daughter. she’s perfect and can do no wrong and no one is ever allowed to make his princess feel bad!
husband!mattheo who tells you repeatedly everyday about how much of a good mother you are, about how naturally it all comes to you “you’re amazing, you know that, my love?”
husband!mattheo who would give his life for you and your baby a million times over. you are the loves of his life and he will work his ass off until the day he dies to make sure you’re happy
“we should have a boy next. i mean, i love playing fairy princess tea party, but i think it’s time for something else.”
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779 notes · View notes
gyutopia · 2 months
Text
overpass graffiti | sim jaeyun
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ꕤ DESCRIPTION: “they say we fall in love three times in our lifetime: our first love is the one that breaks us, leaves us hopeless and lost, this then brings us to our second love, the one which picks up the broken pieces of our heart and mends it back together; heals us from the heartache the first left and lastly, our third and final love⏤the love that’s supposed to last. for you, your best friend sim jaeyun happens to be two out of three.”
ꕤPAIRING: best friend!jake x f!reade & second lead!jungwon
ꕤGENRE(S): slice of life!au, soulmate(?)!au
ꕤWORD COUNT: 23.9k
ꕤWARNING(S): loss of virginity, soft dom!jake, sub!reader, oral (f!receiving), p in v intercourse, no protection, drugging (not the reader), underaged drinking, swearing, dry humping, mentions of plan b, mentions of hospitals, possessive!jungwon, mentions of sobriety, heartbreak, allusions to depression, mentions of drinking and smoking, mentions of passing out.
ꕤA/N: i think i have a thing for sim jaeyun and angst.
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“Jaeyunie, meet ____. You and her are gonna be best friends.” 
Jake’s mother smiles, a hand lightly on his back, and pushes him forward with a gentle pat.
The moment she steps away from his side however, he panics, looking back at her desperately. He’s met with a smile of encouragement - caring but unsympathetic. Jake swallows harshly, shyness heavy in his throat, and uses all the willpower in his 9 year old body to force himself to look at the small female.
Standing across from him, a girl of roughly the same stature is grinning toothily - or at least she could've been, if she’d had enough teeth. ____, was dressed neatly, her hair laid down with lots of gel and two ponytails with bows holding it all together. Her light purple dress swayed as the gentle breeze blew. In one chubby fist she clutched tightly onto her fathers hand. Jake blushed, if he didn’t firmly believe that girls had cooties he would have sworn her to be the prettiest girl he’s ever laid eyes on so instead he scrunches his nose and says the first thing that comes to his mind and knows will hurt her feelings.
“You’re dirty,” he proclaimes, crossing his arms. “Very dirty.”
At his words, ____’s smile quickly falters and an almost angry look overtakes her face. “Am not!” Sensing his daughter's growing fury, her father steps in.
“____ah, calm down. I’m sure Jaeyun didn’t mean it, why don’t you two spend some time together? Hm? I’m sure you’ll be best friends.”
Not giving his daughter any time to argue, he excuses himself and leaves to go join the other adults by the varanda.
____ crosses her arms and stares up at Jake intimidatingly, “apologize.”
Jake gulps, although he’s a whole head taller than the girl and probably even older, he can’t help but be slightly scared of the icy glare she’s sending his way so he meekly mumbles, “I’m sorry”
However, it doesn’t seem as if ____ is pleased with the half assed apology. She raises an eyebrow and impatiently taps her foot on the grass, “for what?”
He gulps, “for calling you dirty, I didn’t mean it.”
Satisfied with the apology, a wide smile breaks out on ____’s face before she doubles over from laughing so hard. “Y-you should have seen your face!” She abruptly stands and quivers her bottom lip as she stares at Jake, “I-I’m s-s-sorry.” She breaks out into laughter once again, unable to hide her amusement. Jake only frowns and crosses his arms.
“It’s not funny.”
Ignoring his embarrassment, ____ walks right up to him and slings an arm around his neck,  “Let’s be best friends forever, yah, Jaeyunie?”
Usually Jake would have scolded anyone who called him Jaeyunie, his mother and hyung being the only exceptions, but for some reason hearing the name slip out so easily from your mouth seemed comforting. “Okay,” he agreed, slightly hesitant. “You seem kinda stupid, so I can still be number one with you as my best friend.”
You only smiled in response, delighted, before spinning on your heel and running back to your mother and father, who were talking animatedly with his own parents.
What a strange girl, Jake thought. At least she wouldn't be competition.
___
Later that night, both of Jake’s parents and your mother and father were sitting at the table discussing grown-up things while you were in the bathroom and Jake was sitting beside his brother when his name filtered through to his ears. He had been in the process of stabbing the greens off his plate and slowly feeding them to his precious dog Layla when his parents weren’t looking, but at the mention of his name he perks up instantly. 
“...Jake has already been offered scholarships to private middle schools once he finishes elementary but he’ll be attending the private international school his elder brother goes to,” she was bragging again.
Your mother perks up as well, “Wow, that’s so incredible, Suyeon. I think being friends with Jaeyun will really help ____ find some initiative. She’s already so used to being good at things, a little healthy competition is just what she needs.”
Jake’s father nods, gesturing for the maid in the corner to bring over the bottle of wine. “It’s certainly going to help with that. While we’re on this topic, I’d like to invite you to join our study group. We have the best tutors come in and teach the kids after school but only the best of the best are allowed to join, ____ shows a lot of promise.”
Jake listens nervously, watching his father as the maid filled his glass and stepped back.
you’re….smart?
His mother notices him staring, and reaches over to tousle his hair affectionately. “Don’t worry, Jaeyunie,” she croons. “You’ll still be number one. Being friends with kids that are as smart as you is a good thing! You and ____ will have lots more to talk about than you would with anyone else.”
He frowns. He knew sometimes parents lied to kids to stop them from being sad, but his mother would never lie to him. Jake was too clever, he’d figure out the lie before she finished telling it.
“Alright.” He found himself cautious for the second time that day. “As long as I can still be number one.”
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Jake in fact did not stay number one for long.
Once you had fully settled into your new life in Australia your grades skyrocketed causing your teachers to bump you up a grade, placing you into Jake’s class, the two of you always went head to head vying for the first rank and each time Jake always fell a point behind.
It aggravated him to no end that you came out of nowhere and completely upended his whole life and identity, Jake had always been the smart one and never had any solid competition so having you seemingly pop out of nowhere and take away the very thing that made him, well him agitated him beyond belief.
But of course this made for a great friendship, while Jake claimed he hated your very existence he soon found himself looking forward to your after school study sessions. You never took them seriously, you always goofed off and made it your life's mission to teach Jake the meaning of fun. It took a while for the boy to warm up to you but you managed to get on his good side with a little bribing of fried chicken and grape soda.
The two of you would wait until your break to sneak out to the fried chicken place down the street to pick up the order you had placed during your tutoring session before heading back to hide in one of the various rooms inside Jake’s spacious home. The two of you would use this time to talk about the annoyances in your life, you would mostly complain about the girls who kept coming up to you to confess their love for Jake and how you were growing quite annoyed with having to turn them down on his behalf. He would only grimace and quickly change the topic to how annoyed he was with you for yet again topping the class rank.
Slowly but surely though, as the two of you began to age, the conversations began to change as he warmed up to you, what used to be pointless bickering and complaining turned into meaningful deep conversations about his fear of attachment, rooted in his father constantly leaving him and his family to go back to Korea for his job overseas. You had slowly become the only constant in Sim Jaeyun’s life and he truly had no intentions of letting you go. You really had become his best friend just like his mother predicted all those years ago.
While it might have taken Jake some time to love you, you loved him from the start. While everyone saw him as the perfect all rounder student you knew he was more than that. You knew he wasn’t perfect, wasn’t some ace who was just naturally talented. No, he worked just as hard- if not harder than his peers to keep up the image he was born to fit. He pulled all-nighters to bring home grades suitable for the assemblyman's son, immersed himself in after school clubs to fill up his resume because God forbid he wasn’t preparing for college at the ripe age of 9, learned multiple languages to become an ambassador for the school and threw himself into learning different instruments and playing different sports to really bring home the title of being an all-rounder.
In everything he pursued, he aced and came out on top. Which is why it irked him to his very core when you came around and knocked him down a peg. You knew right away just how much it bothered him, of course he complained about it every day during your group tutoring sessions but you didn’t really care. If anything it was motivation for you to work even harder to maintain the top spot.
You weren’t doing it out of spite or to intentionally anger him, no you were doing it to show him it’s okay to not always be perfect. It’s okay to rank second, it’s okay to goof off during tutoring sessions when studying is all you ever do, it’s okay to eat junk food when you feel like it and most importantly it’s okay to talk through your emotions with someone. You like to think you ranked first for his own good, to help him realize life is more than just school.
When the two of you reached high school you eased up with working so hard for the top rank but Jake didn’t, he studied all of your summer break before freshman year and placed into a year above you. It annoyed you that you were no longer graduating together but Jake became more lax and carefree knowing he would be graduating a year early, it was refreshing to see a new side of your best friend. Somewhere along the grades of 11 and 12 though, something shifted.
Jake was never unattractive but you never really took note of just how attractive he could be until your junior year.
___
“He’s gonna say no, Sarah.”
“We’re just looking out for you. He’s always hanging out with ____. They’re probably secretly dating, why don’t you just ask someone else?”
“I don’t know why you’re so set on him. I heard he’s already turned down six girls this month. six.”
Jake was just trying to get his calc homework done, bent over in the back of the library with his textbook open in front of him, eyes glued to the page. He spares you a frantic look, desperate to get your attention and convey that it was time to leave before it happened again. 
You, of course, were not paying attention. You were splayed out haphazardly on the chair across from him, headphones in and scribbling in your notebook. You had a smudge of graphite on your nose from scratching it in the middle of your doodling session.
You hum peacefully, completely unaware of your friend's turmoil.
It was everywhere. Prom. It was one stupid night, and he was fully planning on spending it wrapped up in blankets in his living room with you watching romcoms. It was the senior prom and he refused to attend a social event he knew you wouldn’t be at.
Unfortunately, Jake was alone in that feeling, the girls whispering from the table behind the two of you were right. He’d been asked six times. Six excruciating experiences of being cornered by a near stranger who smiled too sweetly and asked him to be their date, six separate occasions on which he’d stuttered a “sorry” and bowed deeply, ducking out before they could say any more.
And by this point, he just really, really didn’t want to have to turn down another girl. He felt like absolute crap.
Jake reaches out, tugging at your school uniform. “____” he whisper-yells.
You shrug him off and pout, “you’ll mess me up. Stop.”
He persists however, this time more aggressive and even goes the extra mile and pulls out one of your airpods. “I’ll buy you dinner please can we just go?”
You finally look up from your work slightly agitated and a full on pout graces your lips, if it were any other time Jake would take a moment to admire how adorable you look but it wasn’t.
“Why do you wanna leave so badly?” you huff out.
Before Jake can answer though he’s cut off by Sarah, one of the girls who has made her way over to your table.
“Jake?”
At the mention of his name his eyes squeeze shut and it hits you like a truck on why he was so adamant to leave. This time it’s the girl from his IB Latin class who he tutored on occasion.
She tucks a strand of her hair behind her ear, you wonder what Jake’s response is going to be this time. She’s very pretty.
“Yes?” He croaks out. Behind him, you sit up in your seat, ready to step in if needed.
She looks down, hands twisting together and fidgets and steps side to side, but when she sucks in a sharp inhale and looks up her eyes are filled with determination. Jake feels queasy, almost as if he’s about to vomit.
“Do you maybe want to go to prom with me?”
Jake swallows the lump in his throat, guilt twisting everything into a knot. You see his knuckles turn white as he makes a fist and you resume your drawing, knowing what his answer will be.
“I’m sorry,” he manages. “But I don’t plan on going.”
Your brow shoots up in shock, you never figured he was rejecting all these girls because he simply didn’t want to go, you thought he was just waiting for the right moment to ask the girl he truly wanted to go with. You never asked why he was so closed off about prom, you figured he would tell you in his own time when he was ready.
“Can I ask why?” She lets her hands fall to her side. “Even if you don’t wanna go with me, I think you’d have a lot of fun.” She retreats back to her friends before he can respond. Jake tries not to notice the way they shake their heads sympathetically and pat her back in comfort.
“She’s right you know, prom would be fun.” you say as you shut your sketchbook. “Plus, she seems really sweet.”
Jake rolls his eyes “you sound like my mom.”
“Ha ha,” you drawl, stretching and arching off the chair like a cat. “I really don’t understand why you don’t want to go. It’s your last chance to enjoy a high school dance.”
The previous year, while you were in your sophomore year and Jake in his junior year he skipped out on prom, choosing to attend his model UN conference instead as his dad had put an emphasis on how much more important the meeting was compared to prom.
Jake shrugs and reaches for your backpack to pull out some snacks you packed for him, “it makes it real.”
“Makes what real?” you tilt your head to the side and patiently wait for him to collect his thoughts to elaborate on what was bugging him.
Jake sighs. “That this is the end.” he mummers, “after prom it’s graduation, and after grad I’m off to the states for uni…away from you.”
Your heart skips a beat and your hands start to get clammy at his words. You try to subtly rub your hands on your skirt and sit up straighter, confused as to why his words have such a strong effect on you.
“We’ve never spent more than a week apart from each other and now we’re going to be thousands of miles apart for a year. I can’t go to prom knowing you won’t be there and that it brings me one step closer to leaving.” he continues, he doesn’t look at you as he lays his emotions bare for you, rather he focuses on organizing his snack options.
Your heart twinges at the reminder that he was leaving for Yale in the fall, this would be the last summer spent together for who knows how long. As much as the reminder upsets you, you still plaster a smile on your face and playfully roll your eyes.
“Did you forget our promise? You and me, forever and always. We have all of summer to make as many memories as we went and even after you leave we can facetime, technology has come a long way y’know.” You reach out to take the bag of chips he had settled on eating to open for him before handing it back. “Distance means nothing. I’ll always have time for my best friend, plus when I go to Harvard I’ll only be two hours away. Enjoy the time you have left in Australia. You'll probably miss it more than me when you actually leave.”
Jake shakes his head, “doubt it but you do make a valid point.”
You smirk and shrug, “when do I not?” You clear your throat. “Does this mean you’ll go to prom?”
He tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and tilts his head side to side before asking, “go to prom with me?”
This time you can’t hide your shock, it’s not odd for you and Jake to be pairs for most social events but for some reason him asking you to be his date for his first and only prom causes heat to rise to your cheeks.
“W-what?”
“What? I can’t see myself going with anyone else, I’m most comfortable around you. Plus when I think back to my senior prom I want to remember how much fun I had and when I’m with you all the stress I’m under suddenly doesn’t matter anymore.” He states.
“Stop being corny,” you hiss weakly, fumbling with the straps on your bag. “It’s not a good look.”
Jake giggles, “what? Do you want me to get down on my knees instead? Do a promposal?”
Your eyes widen, mortified at the idea of him putting together a grandiose promposal. “You’re such a little shit, I swear—“
“Hold on, siri play stand by me by be—“
You pick up your sketchbook and hurl it at his head causing him to duck out of the way and fall out of his chair onto the floor with the force of his laughter. Hearing his laugh causes a pinch in your heart.
When he finally manages to pull himself together and off the ground, he wipes at his eyes and sighs. “Seriously, though.” He hums. “Will you go to prom with me?”
You swallow thickly, averting your eyes to the floor. “Sure.” you say quietly. “I guess so.”
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You're uncharacteristically nervous for prom. Your mom insisted on taking the day off from work to help you get ready when you told her Jake had asked you to go with him.
You thought she was being dramatic but she swore up and down, left and right- that this was the beginning to your ‘blooming love story’.
She brought you to a salon to have your hair and makeup done and even splurged on a $900 dress. You’re beyond grateful to have a mother as understanding and loving as she is. Your father is away on business and unable to make it to take pictures so your mom has been documenting the whole day to share with him, the two of you are currently in your bedroom as she paints your toes.
“Mom?”
She hums in reply and puts down a new coat of nail polish on your big toe. “How’d you know dad was the one?”
Your heart is quiet in your chest, a calm thumping rather than the stutter it had been at all week as you wait for her response. She softly smiles before responding.
“He showed up to my dorm room with pedialyte and carpet cleaner.” She caps the nail polish and cleans around the edges of your toes. “We had been dating for some time and I was supposed to attend a business summit with him but I had a stomach bug and threw up all over my dorm. Your dad didn’t hesitate to drop his plans for the day and showed up to take care of me. He was the first person to ever put me before anything else and I just knew I loved him when he showed up with no clue on what to do but willing. He didn’t care about what his dad had to say about skipping the event or anything else, just me.”
You hum and fiddle with your hands as you think back to moments you’ve shared with Jake. The first one your brain recalls is the first time you got your period. Unfortunately it happened during your school's nature classroom trip. You were up in the woods for the week learning about nature and science through different activities and during your first night there you got your period. You walked around the whole day with blood stains on your shorts and cramps you couldn’t account for. You were beyond embarrassed come dinner time. You had no girl friends in the grade to ask for help and the boys made it a show of embarrassing you at dinner by pouring ketchup all over your seat. Jake was having none of it though, he came up to you at your table and wrapped his hoodie around your waist before grabbing your arm and leading you out of the canteen to the nurse on site.
He stayed by your side that night watching stand by me on your phone outside the cabins getting bit by mosquitoes. He didn’t complain or make any jokes of his own, rather stayed silent and let you have the quiet time you needed. When the two of you finally retreated back to your separate rooms you found a little gift basket on your bed filled with different types of pads, tampons, a heating pack and some chocolates. Apparently while you were walking around with stained shorts Jake was going around collecting different menstrual items from the girls in your grade to give to you, his way of helping.
It did make your heart flutter at the time but you chalked it up to your period hormones and never spoke on how it made you feel to anyone…Was that when you started to fall in love with your best friend?
Your doorbell goes off and you feel anxiety seep into your bones. Your mom senses this and holds your hand to give it a firm squeeze. “don’t stress about something you’re not sure about, okay? I want you to have fun tonight - both of you.”
You nod at her, loving how she knows exactly what was plaguing your mind, you let her lead you out your room and out to the living room. She lets go of your hand and walks over to the door, opening it wide.
“Wow.” You and Jake exclaim simultaneously as soon as you see each other. The butterflies in your stomach erupt once again at the sight of him; dressed in an sleek black suit with the first three buttons of his black undershirt undone, his hair has been bleached blonde and styled down with a part in the middle.
“You look…amazing.” Jake breathlessly lets out, staring at you in complete awe.
You blush and flatten out invisible wrinkles in your dress. “Thank you so do you, I love your hair.”
He smiles and shakes his fringe out of his eyes, “thanks. Figured why not try something new. Ready to go?”
“Woah woah woah, hold on, you two aren’t going anywhere without taking pictures!” His mom appears from behind him, “Let me go get my phone real quick!”
Your mom claps her hands as scurries off to retrieve her phone, “Oh, yes! I have to take pictures for your dad.”
Jake walks up next to you and you’re sure your heart is about to beat out of your chest. “You look really great, ____.”
“You’re not so bad yourself. Blonde was a great idea.” You bring your hand up to fix his parting a bit more. “It’s a nice contrast with the all black suit.”
“Yeah.” He swallows, looking down at his shoes.
“Okay! I have my phone!” Your mom says as she returns, instructing both of you to move out to her garden in the backyard and stand by the peonies for the photo.
“This might take a while.” You whisper to him and he chuckles, gently placing a hand on your lower exposed back.
“Won’t you get cold later?”
You shrug, “probably. Good thing your mother raised you to be a gentleman.” It takes him a second to register your words, scoffing in disbelief once he realizes what you were hinting towards but he doesn’t argue knowing he really will give you his jacket the second he sees you shiver.
“Smile!”
___
After a long process of taking pictures the two of you finally head out with Jake driving you guys to prom. Upon arriving you’re amazed at how extravagant the venue looks. Just another perk of attending a private school you think to yourself.
After finding parking the two of you head inside to find your table, you’re sharing it with your two friends Kairo and Mei and a random couple who snagged their tickets at the last minute (Jun and Luna).
“Jake! ____!” Kairo and Mei are in the entryway to the ballroom, waiting for the two of you where they texted they would be standing.
Mei walks forward, a greeting never making it past her lips, as she reaches out to brush Jake’s fringe out of his eyes. “Sorry, it was bothering me.” She mumbles as she steps back.
You know her intentions are innocent but with the way Jake’s cheeks flush red and he can barely meet her gaze you feel a twinge of jealousy and sadness. Since when was he flustered by Mei? The four of you met during SAT Prep and formed your own study group to help each other out during midterms and finals your freshman year (Jake’s sophomore) the dynamic between you all was pretty formal. The four of you didn’t make plans to go to the movies or the mall like other kids your age, it was strictly studying and neither of you minded it. Kairo and Mei fulfilled you and Jake in an academic sense while you and Jake met all your social and more emotional needs together.
So why the hell was he all blushy at Mei fixing his hair? Why didn’t he react the same when you fixed his parting?
“Should we go in?” Kairo asks.
“That sounds great,” you grit out, your grip tightening on your clutch.
Mei slides up next to Kairo and slips her arm back through his. The four of you walk in and find your table. Kairo pulls out Mei’s seat and Jake follows, doing the same for you.
“So Jake, are you excited for commencement?” Mei asks once you’ve all taken your seats.
Jake clears his throat, “more nervous than excited. Can’t believe it’s all finally over.”
The three of them go back and forth in idle talk before Jake slowly eases his way out of the conversation, mindlessly nodding at what your friends are saying and leaving you to your thoughts.
He’s uncharacteristically silent though as he bobs his head to the music. Seeing as you know him better than yourself, you know he’s nervous - but why?
Was he thinking of Mei? The thought makes you feel sick; you have no reason to be jealous because you’re just his best friend and your feelings are a jumbled mess you can’t navigate through- you don’t even know what you want from him. He can’t fix what he doesn’t know is broken.
Your mind is absolutely blank as you stare down at your hands on your lap. You only snap out of it when a large hand engulfs yours, but you don’t dare to look at him. You can’t.
“Are you okay?”
There they are again; the stupid butterflies winding up in the confines of your stomach. “Yeah,” You remove his hands from yours, “I’m fine.”
Jake reluctantly lets you pull his hand away, knowing something’s wrong but he doesn’t want to push. You compose yourself and remind yourself about your words to Jake; this is his last school dance. It needs to be memorable.
So you’ll make it memorable.
As the night goes on with the food served and multiple performances happening, you’re able to loosen up and forget your worries.
“Do you want to join the dance floor?” Kairo asks as he eyes the growing dance floor.
“No.” You frantically respond, earning a look of judgment from Mei.
“Yes!” She exclaims, grabbing both you and Kairo before dragging you out of your seats with a gleeful giggle.
You try to grab on to Jake for help, but your hand merely grazes his as you’re pushed to the dance floor. On the dance floor, other people have jumped into the idea of dancing and in no time, it’s filled with dancing students.
A little while later, Jake joins the three of you and your little dance circle moves around each other for a few songs; you’re all laughing and you’re genuinely starting to enjoy yourself. Eventually, Kairo and Mei leave to go take a breather leaving you alone with Jake.
“Are you feeling any better?” He leans down to your ear and tries to speak over the loud music.
You nod, “Ye-”
You’re cut off by the loud upbeat music dying out and picking back up but this time a soft violin intro fills the room, you recognize the song instantly. The live orchestra begins playing the chorus of nobody gets me by Sza, you watch as everyone around you pairs up and when you turn around, Jake is already looking at you with a small smile tugging on his lips.
His ears are tinged pink as he offers you a shrug, “Do you wanna dance?” He holds out his hand to you.
You take it with baited breath and immediately at the touch, the butterflies are at it again. You step closer to him and place your other hand on his shoulder while his other goes to your back, where your skin is exposed.
He’s gone back to being unusually quiet again; he’s just leading you to the slow beat of the song and looking away, only meeting your eyes when he catches your lingering gaze.
“____, you’ve been out of it all night. Are you really okay?” He quietly asks, his brows furrowing.
“I…” For a moment, you consider confessing what’s weighing on your heart but you panic. How would he react if he knew?
“____?”
“I think I’m in love with you.” You blurt out, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as soon as the words come out. You feel a little lighter knowing you’ve said your peace but your heart races in panic as you wait for his response.
“Oh,”  Jake whispers. It could have been your imagination but you swear his eyes look just as dizzy and unfocused as your own. His lips part maybe to say something more, but close as quickly as they opened and his gaze flickers down to your lips.
“I-” You choke on your words, shame and regret instantly flooding your body. You want to curl up and hide in a hole but you can’t. Jake is holding on to you too tightly and you’ve already let the cat out of the bag. Might as well get it all off your chest. “I-I don’t know when it happened but I know my feelings aren’t platonic anymore. You’re all I can ever seem to think about, when you touch me it feels like butterflies are swimming in my stomach and the thought of you even being interested in someone else makes me sick to my stomach.”
You take a deep breath, “I think I’m in love with you Jake. I love the little things that make you Jake, your obsession with math and physics, your ability to make anyone you speak to feel truly seen, how you rely on God to get you through hardships you face.” You continue to drone on and on about the quirks you love about your best friend, not noticing the way his lips tip upward in a wide grin.
“I love you.” You confess.
“____?” He asks, voice even.
“Yeah?”
“Stay still.”
Jake steps forward and wraps his hand delicately around the back of your neck, he doesn’t miss the way your hooded eyes follow his movement. He stands up straighter, he’s so close that your noses brush against each other ever so slightly. 
The flush on Jake’s cheekbones is clear as day, a lovely rose pink.
He takes one final deep breath and leans in to plant a kiss on your awaiting lips. The moment your lips touch, you feel a spark of electricity jolt through your body but as quick as it comes, however, and before you can react, he’s already swiftly pulling away.
When the two of you pull back, your eyes are wide open, gaze fixed on Jake’s face, his lips left slightly parted. His entire body is vibrating with warmth and anxiety, hardly able to keep still.
Jake stares at you, still feeling the desire pooling in his stomach, and wonders if he had made a mistake.
“____,” Jake calls, quietly. “____.”
He begins to hold his breath. Did he overstep?
“Did you…” You begin, eyes wide, flickering rapidly across his face. “Did you…just…”
“Yeah,” Jake replies, his voice cracking a tad. “Yeah, I did.”
There’s a silence between the two of your for a long second before you collect your bearings and clear your throat and say,
“Do it again.”
Jake feels numb, unable to be shaken or moved by the world around him, so he steps back in and tilts his head to the side, kissing you once again like you asked. 
You can barely hear the crowd around you over the sound of your own heartbeat.  Jake kisses you softly, almost shyly. A gentle hand slides down to your hip, anchoring you in place, a solid touch while the rest of the world slowly fades away. 
You can’t think about anything other than the feeling of Jake’s lips finally on your own. You continue to kiss Jake until you feel his hand leave your hip and he gently pulls his lips away.
You keep your eyes shut for a second longer, body thrumming with warmth and energy, you feel Jake’s forehead knock against yours after a beat. When you finally open your eyes, like always, Jake was staring right back at you.
“I love you too.”
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Following prom you feel as though you’re on cloud nine. After your shared confessions and heated kisses Jake took you outside of the venue to discuss where things would go from here. He only had three more months left in Australia before he had to leave for Yale but he knew he would be a fool if he let you go.
The two of you came to the conclusion that you would take things slow and enjoy the little time you had together working towards being a couple and pick things back up once you graduated and made your way to the states to join Jake.
Things truly felt perfect, Jake would come by your home every now and then to take you on impromptu dates with a new bouquet everytime and an explanation on why he chose those specific flowers. On days where he was too busy getting ready for his upcoming semester to take you out, you would pack him little lunches and drive the two of you down to the park you would often visit in your childhood and have little picnics while listening to him go on about how excited he was for the physics program at Yale.
The people who had been in your lives and watched you grow up together were thrilled at the direction in which your relationship was going. Both your parents were delighted when Jake broke the news that you were officially seeing each other on a romantic level working towards eventually dating. You would often have Sunday brunch together after going to church with his family and yours before sneaking off to his room to cuddle on his bed for an afternoon nap.
Had you known this is what would come with confessing, you would have told Jake way sooner but sadly, time had passed and the date of Jake’s departure from Australia was fastly approaching. He has a week left and he’s determined to make it the best one yet.
“Let's road trip to Sydney.”
You stop fiddling with Jake's fingers and turn your head to look up at him from your position on his chest. “What?”
He smiles down at you before placing a quick kiss to your forehead. “You heard me, let’s take a road trip to Sydney.”
You playfully roll your eyes. “Yeah I heard you dummy but why?”
He shrugs and entwines your hands once more. “Why not? It’s my last week and we talked about road tripping down there for spring break but someone,” he pauses to poke at your side with his free hand drawing out some giggles form you his heart warming at the sound, “-just had to get sick the night before we were supposed to leave.”
You let out a groan, “you’re never going to let that go are you?” Jake hums, “absolutely not.”
You huff in thought, “it’s a nine hour drive Jake…”
He sits up forcing you to do the same as well, turning to face him. “We can take turns. Plus my flights’ leaving from Sydney, we could go to the airport together and have a proper goodbye without my parents bugging us.”
You bite down on your lip seriously considering Jake’s impromptu idea. Within the past three months you’ve had to share Jake with so many people- his soccer team, his orchestra friends, his family. Everyone. Alone time was scarce and the thought of a getaway to Sydney where it would be just the two of you and no distractions sounded lovely.
“Okay.”
“Okay? Just like that?”
You hum and move to sit on his lap and throw your hands over his shoulders. “Why not?”
A huge smile breaks out on Jake's face causing you to smile as well, something about seeing him happy always managed to bring you happiness. It should be scary, just how willing you are to sacrifice for Jake but for some reason you always throw caution to the wind the second he comes around. You’d give him the world if you could.
You feel Jake wrap his arms around your waist and slowly slide his hands under your shirt to caress your back. “What's going on in that pretty head of yours, love?”
You begin playing with the hair on the nape of his neck and whisper out, “thinking bout’ how I'd give you the world.” Jake’s hands pause at the base of your back, clearly caught off guard, you look down at his eyes and see how dark they’ve gotten. Desire and love pooling in the hues of his brown eyes. “You are my world.”
He leans in as he finishes his sentence and places his lips on yours. The feeling of his lips is incredibly warm as he pushes them against yours, slightly chapped but otherwise still soft. The amount of emotion he puts into kissing you isn’t like anything you felt before, there’s more desire in this kiss compared to all the others you’ve shared. The feeling of his tongue sweeping against the plumpness of your lower lip and the heat from his body sends butterflies to your stomach.
His hands fall down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths before pushing you back. He makes quick work of flipping you so your back is now on the mattress and it’s him straddling you. You gasp at the feeling of the soft mattress beneath you, his body pinning you deeper back as he continues exploring your mouth with his own.
You pull back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Jake smirks at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck.
The strands of his hair are silky beneath your fingertips, gasping and tugging at the roots as he bites down on a certain area of your neck that makes your core clench.
“Jaeyun,” you whisper, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?”
He slowly pulls away from you and adamantly shakes his head. “No.” you whine in protest as he pulls away and lays beside you once more. He pulls you close to his chest before confessing to you. “I want our first time to be romantic, not some quick fuck in my bedroom.” He kisses your temple. “You deserve more than that.”
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The Following Day - 1:36PM
“Ready to head out?” 
You whirl around to find Jake standing in front of you and your parents, having just finished packing your suitcases in the trunk of his car and is now looking over at you with a tilt in his head. 
You nod and smile brightly. “Of course,” You say, turning to your mom and dad to bid them one fast farewell. “I was just saying bye.” 
He nods in understanding, waving to your parents, “I promise we’ll be safe and if anything happens you’ll be the first we call.” He says to reassure your parents, more so your dad who was a bit more hesitant to the last minute idea.
Your dad nods stiffly at Jake, “take good care of her. No drinking or scandalous activities, I’m not ready for any grandchildren.”
You gasp at your dads words and swat at his chest. “Dad! Stop embarrassing me!” He only tisks in your direction.
“You know what's more embarrassing? Having to finish your senior year pregn-”
“-Ahhh. Dad, stop it! I promise we’ll make smart choices!”
He chortles at your flushed expression and leans in for a hug. “I’m only messing with you.” You hug him back before pulling away to give your mother a quick hug and kiss on the cheek.
“See you in a week!”
After pulling away Jake steps forward to hug your parents goodbye as well.
“Be safe Jake, we’ll miss seeing you so often! Make sure to call us if you ever need anything once in the states, okay?” Your mom softly says to him as she holds his face in her hands, tears slowly filling her eyes. Over the years Jake has slowly become like a son to her, she was used to cooking extra knowing he’d come over for dinner after your tutoring sessions. She had even turned one of the spare bedrooms into a personal room for Jake, allowing him to sleepover when his parents were out of town for business.
You can only imagine how much she's going to miss him, maybe as much as you know you’ll be missing him.
He nods and sniffs, is he crying too? “Of course auntie, I’m really going to miss our Friday night movie marathons.”
You smile bitterly beginning to fight back tears of your own. Your father was always away for weekend meetings in Melbourne starting Friday night into Saturday evening and as captain of the varsity volleyball team you had late night practices every Friday meaning you wouldn’t be back home until the dead of night and your mother was left all alone. Jake, having nothing to do once classes were done would often go over to your home to keep her company so she wouldn’t be all alone in your home. It was a little tradition the two kept up over the years.
You hadn't given yourself time to really mourn the idea of being separated from Jake for an entire year but watching him say his tearful goodbyes to your parents is really putting into perspective just how entwined your lives are. He’s your everything and how he’s leaving, how are you going to manage your senior year without your best friend?
 “We should get going.” 
“Mhmm.” You look over at Jake and reach a hand out to wipe away his fallen tears. “It’s okay.” 
The two of you say one last goodbye before getting into Jake’s range rover, you look out the window to see your parents waving you off. You slide back into the passenger seat of his car and put on your seatbelt now processing the fact that this is the last week you have with Jake.
There is a silence as Jake is starting the car, and a part of you wants to die. On one hand you want to cry and beg him to stay but on the other you know if you do, Jake will differ his offer and take a year off to be with you. That’s the last thing you want, he deserves happiness. That’s all you’ve ever wanted for him. If that means braving a smile for now while your heart is in turmoil so be it.
Jake is the first to break the silence.
“That was a lot harder than I thought it would be.” He drives down your driveway before making a right to pull into the neighborhood.
“Goodbyes are never easy.”
“Yeah but…I didn't cry when saying bye to my parents but something about your parents made leaving seem all the more ...real?”
“It’s only natural, you spent more time with us. You’re like their second child.”
Jake hums in thought, “I don’t think I’lll survive having to say goodbye to you.”
You purse your lips thinking about what your goodbye would be like. Would there be tears? Unspoken words? “I think you’ll be just fine.” You reach out for his right hand that lays on the gear shift and hold it tightly. “It’s only temporary.”
The next nine hours are spent singing old 90’s love songs and making pit stops every now and then to stock up on some new snacks and to switch off so Jake isn’t so tired. During your third stop is when Jake pulls out a camera and begins vlogging the remainder of the trip claiming it would be nice to look back at it once the trip is over.
Once you finally make it to your destination, you pull into the driveway and place the car in park before looking around at your surroundings. The home is modern with nothing but natural light, it’s surrounded by trees to still give you enough privacy but it’s secluded from the other homes on the lane.
“Oh my gosh it’s so pretty.”
You open the door and immediately extend your legs out onto the solid ground beneath you. You let out a sigh of satisfaction and Jake laughs from next to you. 
He’s opening his own car door soon after, but he straightens up into a standing position pretty quickly and stretches upwards. He closes the car door behind him, watching as you eventually pull yourself together to do the same. 
You turn to face him. “I’m gonna use the bathroom.” You gesture towards the airbnb and earn a nod from Jake, who mentions something about doing the same thing. You meet back at the car a few minutes later. 
Jake gestures to the trees surrounding the home. “Want to take a walk around the area? I think I saw a park when we pulled into the neighborhood.” 
You nod. “That sounds like a good idea.” 
“Why don’t you get started? I’ll catch up.” Jake watches you leave, before opening the trunk of his car and rummaging around. 
He does catch up with you, quickly enough that you hardly notice that he had sent you out first. You hear his footsteps, and the call of your name, causing you to turn around. “Jake!” 
The sight before you makes you smile brightly. Standing before you is Jake, with his polaroid in hand. The lens is pointed right at you. As soon as you’re staring straight into the camera, Jake grins. “Say cheese” 
You giggle and close your eyes before making a little peace sign. You hear the little click and the flash illuminates your face. You open your eyes to find Jake smiling down at the little printed picture waiting for it to develop. “I can’t believe you brought that.”
“I’m a photographer at heart, what did you expect?” Jake teases back. “Besides, it’s really pretty around here. I need some pictures for my dorm.” 
You blush at the thought of him putting up a picture of you on his dorm wall. The pair of you begin to make your way to the park, taking in the view from different angles. The stroll is mostly just to get rid of the pent up energy, but it’s still a nice view to admire. As soon as you arrive at the park you ditch Jake to run to the swing set.
“Push me?”
Jake rolls his eyes, shaking his head in disbelief but still walks behind you to push you forward.
“Did you know my brother and I got in trouble with our mom because of how high we would swing you?” Jake giggles, “she was worried we’d push you too high and you’d go flying.”
“I blame your brother. He turns everything into a competition.”
“So do you!” Jake exclaims. You quickly stop the swing with your feet to turn back at him with a judgmental look on your face. “When we were a little older and Jaehyun left us to push each other you would get annoyed that I didn't push you as hard as you did for me.”
“It's true though.”
You scoffed, “at least I didn’t actually push you off your seat.”
He laughs at the memory, “we’re stronger now, do you wanna see who can go higher?”
“knowing exactly how strong you are… uh, not really? but whatever, let’s do it!” you brace yourself on the swing and start pulling yourself back to get momentum.
“Okay, wait! Wait!” he rushes to the seat beside yours and pushes it as far as his hips can go, already giving him an advantage. “Okay, go!”
Childish laughter escapes both of you as you let yourselves swing back and forth, trying to put your weight in properly to reach higher than each other. it really felt like you were kids again, you felt at peace, a part of you never wanted this night to end.
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The next few days fly by and just like that it’s the night before Jake’s flight. You had spent your time in Sydney visiting the opera house, late night dinner dates and excursions all over the bustling city. There truly never was a dull moment within this week that’s come to pass. Getting to make new memories with Jake is exactly what you needed.
The two of you have just gotten back from dinner at Altitude, a restaurant overlooking the opera house. You’re now in your shared bathroom dressed in one of Jake’s old tee’s and a thong doing your nightly skin care routine as Jake undresses in the bedroom, getting ready for his nightly shower. You look at his reflection through the mirror as he takes off his shirt. Your eyes skim down his toned chest, desire pooling in the pits of your stomach. Throughout your time here it’s been nothing but makeouts and little pecks throughout the day. You wonder if he’ll finally make a move tonight.
“I can feel you staring, love.”
“That’s the point.”
Jake doesn’t say anything in response but rather slides up behind you and peppers your neck with gentle kisses. He cages you between his body and sink and presses his hips into your back. Your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his fully hard cock pressing against your lower back.
Jake’s eyes rake your body through the mirror, desire burning in his irises. he shifts his eyes to stare at your lips before moving back to turn you around and face him and press himself directly to your front before leaning down and in. He takes his time, giving you the opportunity to pull away but you don’t. You want this.
He leans forward and allows his lips to graze yours, the faintest of touches. “Are you sure you want to do this darling? We don't have to.” Jake asks softly.
You shyly nod your head and lean in to close the gap but he pulls ways and shakes his head, “no love. I need to hear you say yes.”
“Yes, I want to do this, Jaeyun.” You push forward allowing your lips to touch. He groans once your lips make contact. You’re unable to focus on anything other than the feeling of his lips on yours.
You can faintly taste the shirley temple he had at dinner on his tongue. He sucks harder on your lip and brings one hand down in between your things to prod at your pulsing heat.
He pulls away to let his eyes drink in the sight of you before leaning down to pick you up. you let out a yelp and grasp onto his biceps for protection, “w-what are you doing?” You sputter.
“I can’t make love to you properly on the sink, darling.”
You blush at his words and bury your face into his chest, after a few strides Jake is gingerly placing you on the bed.
He gets onto his knees and straddles your hips before reaching out to help you out of your shirt. You breathe in deeply savoring the way he feels pressed against you. the feeling of his warm fingers moving under the hem of your shirt across your stomach. He lifts it off of your body and tosses it across the room.
“Thank you for trusting me with your body.” Jake says before leaning back in and places his lips on yours yet again.
You moan into the kiss before he trails kisses down your jaw to your neck, his teeth brushing over your skin and making you shiver regardless of the heat being provided by Jake’s skin pushed up against yours. You close your eyes and relish the feeling.
With his lips still pressed against your neck, he whispers, “what do you want love?”
Your eyes flutter open as he slowly pulls away to look at you.
“I won’t do anything until you tell me what you want.” He reiterates before placing his lips back onto your neck, biting down making it harder for you to form a coherent sentence.
“I-i don’t know.” You say breathily but he chuckles in your ear, “yes you do love, tell me what you want so I can make you feel good.” He says as he gently tugs at your underwear, you whine and raise your hips off the bed to allow him to take it off faster. He tisks, “I need to hear you say it.” You look up at him to meet his gaze, “I want you to touch me.”
His gaze hardens, “spread your legs doll.” He orders.
He shifts his position and allows you to spread your legs before slotting himself in between them. He taps his fingers against your hips silently asking you to raise them. You shyly lift them to the best of your ability and let him pull them off of you, your arousal clinging to your underwear and clit.
Once you’re completely naked, he brings his lips to your chest and roughly kisses your skin, his tongue probing at your nipple. You whimper when he bites your left nipple, the feeling overwhelming. He pulls back and looks at your bare body.
“Fuck you’re so beautiful.” He mumbles before leaning down to toy with your pussy.
“You’re so wet too. Did our kissing turn you on so much, love?” Jake asks, smirking down at you. your face heats up at his words but you don’t respond. He looks back down at your pussy and shifts his position so he’s laying down in front of your pussy. He lets his pointer finger circle your clit for a little before running it along the slit of your folds. You let out a mewl at the feeling wanting more. “P-please Ja..” You moan.
“Patience, love.”
He dips one finger into you and you hiss at the feeling. It’s been a while since you’ve been touched down there and you’re extremely sensitive. “You’re so tight,” he says, pushing his finger deeper until the entire digit is buried snuggly inside you. You close your eyes and tug at the bedsheets, loving the feeling of him fingering you.
You’re a moaning mess by the time he manages to slide his whole finger into you. You clench around his fingers as he slides them in and out of your snatch and grasp onto your bedsheets. “Does it feel nice to be stuffed with my fingers?” Jake asks.
You know your voice will fail you so you adamantly nod your head. Jake picks up the pace and your hips move to his strokes. Jake licks his lips when he feels your walls clenching tightly around his digits.
“I-i think I’m close.”
His fingers curl inside of you which causes your hips to jerk upwards. “Are you cunning?” He asks cheekily.
You nod eagerly, “yes!” your eyes snap shut as you enjoy the feeling, “o-oh my gosh” you cry as you feel him kiss the inside of your thighs. He trails the kisses upwards until he’s face to face with your pussy and places a soft kiss on the nub before sucking on it, his tongue flicking around. He pulls his pointer and middle finger out so he can eat you out freely.
He licks the slit of your folds and firmly grips the flesh of your thighs most likely leaving marks.  Marks that would remind you of this moment later on.
Jake picks up the pace, he’s going so fast that you let out a quiet scream. You fist and unfist your sheets as you rock your hips against his face and come.
Your orgasm hits you so hard that tears fill your vision.
Jake allows you to ride out your high before coming up from your private parts and leans back down to place a chaste kiss on your lips.
“Are you feeling alright love?” He asks as he strokes your hair. You’re heaving, trying to catch your breath.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to continue?”
You nod but then remember Jake wants verbal responses, “I do.”
Jake wastes no time in removing his shorts and boxers and gently moves up your body. you wrap your arms around his neck. “C-can you be gentle?” You sheepishly ask.
Your question sends an immediate reaction to Jake’s dick, he swears he could have busted a nut right then and there. “Of course doll, I'll be gentle.”
He tentatively strokes your folds with two fingers, eyes darting back up to yours to check your response. You hiss, still a bit sensitive. “Is this okay? Are you sensitive?”
“I’m fine,” you assure, “go ahead, I’m okay.”
He nods, gathering some of your wetness and smears it on his cock, a moan of relief leaving his swollen lips. “I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to be buried inside of you,” he says, angling himself better and positioning his cock near your entrance.
“Please,” you whimper, biting back a cry once his length breaches your entrance. Jake lets out a guttural growl, slowly sinking into you and bottoming out letting you adjust to his length.
“You’re so beautiful.” Jake says, rolling his hips torturously slow. “You were made for me, love. Just for me.”
You open your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m ready, you can move now.”
Jake leans forward to place a kiss on your cheek, then on your jaw, and then on your neck. As Jake busies himself there he slowly begins to thrusts in and out of you.
Your hands are all over him; clawing his back, gripping his biceps. “Love,” he whispers, “you feel so good.”
The sound of your bodies slapping against each other plus your loud wanton moans and the creaking from the bed is all that can be heard reverberating around in the home. He thrusts two more times, his hips stuttering before he chokes out, “mm gonna cum.”
You scratch at his sides and bite your lip to suppress your moan, “m-me too.”
“You can cum love,” Jake coos. He wraps his arms around you and hugs you closer to his body, the feeling of your chest pressed against him and his dick pounding into you is enough to send you over the edge.
“I’m cumming!” You mumble into his skin. Jake groans at the feeling of you cumming on his dick before his hips still and he comes inside you painting your walls white.
His lips are on your shoulders and neck, softly sucking on patches of your skin and murmuring sweet nothings as you calm down.
“Fuck.”
Jake pulls out and looks down at the mess of the sheets, now that he’s no longer caught up in his lustful haze it dawns on him that the two of you didn’t use protection. So much for smart choices.
As if now remembering yourself you shrug, “I’ll just grab a plan b tomorrow.”
Jake nods, “I’ll send you the money for it.”
His body then drops to lay beside you and he pulls you in close with the promise of a hot shower after a few minutes of decompressing. You roll over and sit up, swatting Jake’s hands away as he reaches for your arm. “Wait, I have something for you.”
He hums, interest piqued. “Huh?”
You open the bedside drawer where you had hidden the card you had written for Jake before the two of you left Brisbane. It was a love letter, all the things you’ve ever wanted to tell him but kept to yourself out of fear. It holds all the words your heart so desperately wants to tell him before he leaves.
“It’s not anything extravagant but I know you care more for sentimental things anyway.” You hand him the card, “don’t read it until you’re on the plane.”
He looks at the light pink envelope decorated in stickers and his name written in neat calligraphy in the center, the faintest smile on his face but a hint of sadness in his eyes.
“I love you.”
The way he says it sounds different from all the other times he’s ever told you. Almost as if he needs to convince you that he loves you but you know. He places one last kiss to your lips before pulling you back down to cuddle.
“I’m going to miss you.”
Jake hums, “me too.”
The room slips into a comforting silence and eventually you drift off.
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8:41am
You wake up feeling cold. You whine and feel around for Jake’s body but when you feel nothing you open your eyes and softly call out for him. “Jake?”
When you’re met with no response you sit up and look around the still dark room. You stand from the bed and reach for your shirt that was still on the ground. You hadn’t intended to fall asleep, it was only meant to be a quick nap before the two of you took a shower together and watched movies until it was time for you to head to the airport.
“Jake? If you’re trying to scare me, give up.”
You’re still met with silence and you begin to feel uneasy. “Jake?”
You search the living room and your heart drops. His things are gone, his shoes, his suitcases. Everything. You run back to the room to see if it’s really true, if Jake left without saying goodbye. What you find breaks your heart even more. All his toiletries are gone, all that's left are your belongings. You let out a sob when you find the love letter you had written for him laying atop his pillow, opened and crumpled at the sides, proof he had read it but didn’t care enough to take it with him.
You drop on to the bed in shock and disbelief, tears sitting in your waterline. You turn to look beside you, staring at the letter as if it had burned you, the only trace that Jake was ever here is his scent in the sheets. You look at the alarm clock to see if you’ll be able to make it to the airport on time and bid him a proper farewell, your heart sinks once again when you realize you’re far too late. It’s 8:50 and his flight leaves in ten minutes. You sniff and decide to not dwell on it, Jake probably had his reasons and you have to get ready to go home.
You strip out of your shirt and discard it on the floor before walking into the bathroom to start your shower. You step into the shower, toes flinching as they touch the chilled ceramic floor. Your mind is in shreds; how could Jake leave without a goodbye? You turn the dial, releasing thousands of frigid drops, wetting your hair and trickling down your back. Your eyes fall closed and images of last night cross your mind.
You want to scream. Did last night not mean as much to him as it did to you? Was this all so he could fuck and just leave? You wrap up your shower and step out to brush your teeth. When finished, you dry off and head for your suitcase to pick out an outfit. You settle on sweatpants and an old graphic tee with slides. Once dressed and ready for your journey back, you finish your packing and look around the house one last time to see if maybe Jake left anything for you, maybe even an explanation. All you find is a plan b box on the kitchen counter next to a water bottle. You pick up the pill box and exit promptly and throw your things in the back of Jake’s car. You look down at the passenger seat where the letter you had written for him sits. You pick it up and examine it one last time before shoving it deep into your backpack.
Maybe this was less painful than having to say goodbye.
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It in fact was not less painful. A day passed, then two, then a week, then a month. You stared at your phone at all hours of the day, calling and texting waiting for confirmation that he had arrived safely and an explanation on why he went ghost but it never came.
You started your senior year alone. That was the first time you ever realized just how dependent you were on Jake, you had no other friends to go to the movies with, you spent your senior appreciation week alone, you had no one to make plans with when the weekend would roll around. Maybe you should have made deeper connections. You slowly started to lose sight of the end goal, Harvard had always been your dream but your mind was in too much turmoil to see it meaning anything without Jake, your heart can’t stand to be near him but not have a connection to him. You had heard from his mother that he had settled in at Yale and was enjoying his time abroad. You never told your parents what happened down in Sydney, you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it without crying.
Eventually you began to decline, your grades took a hit and your GPA dropped from the perfect 4.5 it had been sitting at for the past four years to a 3.2. You started failing your core classes and you were kicked off of the varsity volleyball team. Your parents couldn’t understand the sudden change in you. You stopped talking to them, stopped going to your tutoring sessions and stopped caring about life itself. You would only go to school when you felt like it and come straight home before locking yourself in your bedroom. When time came to send in your college applications you didn’t know what to do. You knew Harvard wouldn’t want you and you never considered any other options. You sat down with your guidance counselor and she gave you some options. The majority consisted of staying in Australia, letting you know it didn’t seem possible to go abroad. You limited your application process to four schools, two in Australia and two in Massachusetts. If Harvard didn’t want you, maybe a private school would grant you admission and you could transfer in your sophomore year.
As much as you wanted to be far away from him, Massachusetts happened to have all the top schools that were realistic for you. You applied to Northeastern and Boston college. Neither were the ivy leagues you were hoping to attend but private institutions nonetheless. You sent in your applications for early action, praying you would get in and get to leave Australia behind. You were suffocating here.
Luckily for you, your acceptance letter came from Northeastern and you were quick to accept. You were waitlisted for Boston College and accepted to both Australian unis but you had decided where you were going. You toured Northeastern in the spring with your mom, you both absolutely fell in love with the campus. It was right in the middle of the city, across from the train system making getting around easy. You got to meet the girl you would be dorming with, Avianca; Avi for short. She was very bubbly and sweet, and very opinionated. She had grown up in Boston with her mother and two brothers. Her mother was unable to join the two of you so you went out to brunch with her and your mother. After that your mother left the two of you to go shopping for some things for your dorm.
“Are you excited to start in the fall?” Avi asked as the two of you browsed targets room decor.
You shrug and hug yourself, “I guess.”
Avi stops to look at a large beige throw pillow, “that's all? Aren’t you excited for the new experiences?” She looks up at you, “the boys?”
You play with the tag of the pillow in her hand. “I-” you hesitate and she picks up on it.
“Unless…” she smirks up at you, “you have a boyfriend?”
You pause. Could you even consider Jake a boyfriend? He never officially asked you to be his girlfriend but the two of you did way more than what other couples do in a lifetime. As if reading your mind Avi hums.
“Ahh, I see. It’s complicated?”
“I guess you could call it that.”
She tosses the pillow into the cart, “is it over?”
You continue walking down the aisle as you think back to Jake, this would be your first time ever saying what went down outloud. You were hesitant to tell your parents because of how close they were with Jake, you didn't want this affecting their perspective of him but Avi doesn’t know him, she’s unbiased. And that’s how you found yourself crying inside a target finally opening up about just how hurt you were by Jake’s actions.
Once you finish telling her your story from start to finish, Avi is embracing you. “Jake is a dick. You did not deserve that. I’m so sorry.”
Avi spends the rest of your time together comforting you. She lets you rant about Jake and gives you her two cents every now and then. You felt a little embarrassed at how much you were crying but Avi was quick to reassure you letting you know it was actually time you let it all out. The two of you exchanged numbers before parting ways again and she made you promise to keep in touch with her while you were back home in Australia until your move-in day and that's exactly what you did.
After flying back home you slowly started to rebuild. Jake isn’t a part of your life anymore and you can’t continue to wallow in your self pity. It was time to let go and move on, you would be starting your freshman year of college in four months. You don’t want to be stuck up on someone who wasn’t even thinking of you.
You took the time to learn new hobbies as you didn’t have volleyball to lean on. You took up baking for a bit before getting bored and moving on to painting. You learned how to knit and made yourself some mittens and a scarf to prepare for the cold Boston weather. You even took up photography, opening up a private instagram account to post your pictures as you traveled around Europe during June. It was a graduation gift from your father, you had stops in France, Wales, Germany and Spain. You spent a month traveling before heading back south.
You flew to New Zealand before officially going home to explore the mountains, it was a nice reset. Jake had promised to visit with you but it never happened and you weren’t putting things on hold for him anymore. You would facetime with Avi every night, brainstorming ideas for your room and your plans for welcome week. She had no intention of staying in your dorm that first week before classes started.
At first you were hesitant, going to raves and frat parties meant the inevitable. The possibility of running into Jake would be significantly higher and if you didn’t run into him there was still the fact that you would be approached by some man before the night was over. You had expressed to Avi how you couldn’t see yourself entering a relationship anytime soon. You had yet to fully heal from Jake and the thought of being that vulnerable again terrified you.
She only listened before reminding you that you didn’t have to date every guy that said hi. Some below the belt touching and harmless flirting never hurt anyone. She went on to ramble about how you’re entering your prime and have an insanely hot aussie accent that could help you secure any guy you wanted. You zoned out once she started asking you if you could moan for her so she could take pointers.
Your parents could see the shift in you and it brought them relief, they felt more at ease to send you abroad now that you were in a better mental headspace. You left two weeks before classes started to move in and get accustomed to the new environment. Your parents came to help you and Avi move in before leaving to go back home.
It’s now nighttime and you’ve just officially finished decorating.
“So, there’s this rave at slackers tonight, wanna go?”
You turn to look at Avi from your bed as she sits at her desk organizing her makeup. You snort, “as if I have a choice.” She looks up at you grinning.
“Glad you’re aware! Now get up and go shower, you’re all sweaty and doors close at 8!”
You roll your eyes but listen to her nonetheless. You stumble out of your bed and walk towards your closet to try and brainstorm what to wear. “Is there a theme?”
Avi hums, “yeah early 2000’s.”
You scan your wardrobe to see what you can find before deciding upon a baby blue butterfly top you had gotten off of amazon and a mini cargo skirt. For shoes you settle on some old Nike air forces knowing they would be demolished by the end of the night. You head over to the bathroom and begin getting ready. You try not to take too long, making sure to properly wash your body but you don’t take the time to exfoliate. Once drying off and exiting you make quick work of getting dressed and sitting beside Avi to start your makeup while she works on styling her hair. You don’t take too long for your makeup, choosing to opt for a more natural look and go for a half up/half down hairstyle with two strands out in the front.
Once you’re both ready, you grab your student ID’s and bags before heading out and start the five minute walk to the T. As you’re waiting for the train to arrive you take pictures with Avi to post and make a new story post of the sun setting. Once the green train arrives the two of you hop on and head towards the party venue.
By the time you arrive, the line is still relatively short and you’re inside in under thirty minutes. You scan your surroundings, the club lights are too bright and strobing too fast, just asking for someone to seize. The dance floor is crowded with people and there are drunks stumbling all around you.
Avi spins on her heels and smirks up at you, “what are the odds you get a stranger to buy us drinks?”
You quickly shake your head. “Zero! I’ve never done this before Avi!”
She shrugs, “so? Have you seen yourself? You look so hot, ____.” She makes it a point to slap your ass. “You have all the right assets on display, you just have to use them to your advantage.”
You gasp and rub your sore bottom, “okay one, never do that again. Two, why don’t you get a guy to buy us drinks? Put those tits to good use.”
She smirks. “I was already planning on it. But seriously, I promised to help you get over Jake and what better way to do that than getting under a new man?”
You groan. “Sleeping around isn’t going to help me get over Jake.”
“What makes you think he hasn’t done the same?” You furrow your brows at her and she scoffs. “Come on ____, he’s been in the city for a year while you were on the other side of the world. Jake is hot and I’m sure he knows it just like other girls in Connecticut probably do too, what would really have stopped him from getting his dick wet?”
You stay silent, deep down you know Avi is just being truthful and realistic. Jake had no obligations to you and no one to get in his way of whoring around if he really wanted to as much as it may hurt you.
“Okay.”
Avi’s brows shoot up in shock. “Okay? That’s really all it took?”
You nod firmly, “I’m done putting my life on pause for him. Besides, a little flirting never hurt anyone, right?”
Avi squeals and claps her hands together. “Perfect! I better see you throwing it back on some guy before the night ends!”
The two of you decide to part ways to find your prey of the night. Avi makes quick work of heading to the bar where the older men are to see if she can score some drinks while you idle around the dance floor, scoping out the faces to see who you wanted to make a move on. Before you can set your sights on someone, you feel the warmth of a body behind you though they’re not quite pressing against you yet. It doesn’t feel bad, and neither do the fingertips ghosting along the curve of your waist. You press into their touch a little more. The tentative fingers at your waist get more firm once they realize you’re open to their touch.
“Wanna dance?,” the body behind you asks, lips brushing the shell of your ear. It makes chills prick at your skin. You bite your lip to keep from smiling at the sensation. Your hand goes to cover the bigger one on your waist. You’ve missed being this close to someone. 
You intentionally keep the touch constant when you turn around in their hold. Their palm slides along your body till it’s settling on your lower back just above the swell of your ass.
When you look up, your reply gets caught in your throat.
The owner of the warm body behind you is handsome, strikingly so. Tall, strong. Smile dreamy with dimples, and eyes dark. He gives you a soft grin accompanied by an encouraging nod, wanting you to say what you can’t seem to get out.
“Uh–” you sputter with a wince, before clearing your throat, “Where’s the fun in asking?”
You can’t hear his laugh over the music, but you can tell he’s amused by the way his chest rumbles, and how his eyes curl. The hand at the base of your spine moves to your hip, squeezing gently.
His other hand is moving, too, and you track it until it’s tucking some hair behind your ear. You go still and flush when he leans down to your ear again. “If you insist,” he tells you. You don’t get to respond before he’s forcefully turning you back around and pressing his body into yours. The song changes to an upbeat caribbean mix and the sexy stranger has you bent over, one hand in your hair as a makeshift ponytail and the other resting at the base of your spine as he sensually moves his hips to the beat of the song, practically humping you. You can feel yourself getting wet as his clothed dick brushes against your vagina, your miniskirt and thong barely hiding anything. You begin whining your waist to meet his thrust giving those around you a show. Soon, a circle forms around the two of you as people turn on their camera to film. When the song finally ends the two of you separate and the crowd disperses. Some guys stick around though, hoping you would part form your dance partner and give them a chance to feel you humping them but you never get the chance. The stranger leans down to your ear, “I’m Jungwon.”
You smirk and respond with your name. “I’m, ____. Clearly you’ve done this before Jungwon.” 
Jungwon briefly looks surprised, eyes widening like a child before he’s laughing. “Ah,” he muses, guiding your arms to drape over his shoulders, your hands interlocking behind his neck. His hands do the same around your waist as he pulls you a little closer. “Perhaps but clearly the same goes for you.”
There’s a flutter in your tummy that you haven’t felt in months and it’s exciting. Makes you giddy as you blink up at him sultrily.
“Are you complaining?” you ask him.
He adamantly shakes his head, “Of course not, as long as you’re not in a relationship no complaints over here.”
You cock your head to the side. “I don’t do relationships.” You wait a beat before asking, “Is that what you’re looking for?”
He looks up like he’s thinking. Then he’s shrugging. Crowding your space, cheek brushing yours as he talks into your ear again, he answers, “I want what you want.”
Jungwon doesn’t move out of your space like the times he did before, instead pulling you into him a bit more, making your space his space too. Lips brush against the corner of your jaw, just below your ear. Teasing, yet sure. 
“I want to forget–” Your hand twines into the hair at the nape of his neck when he nips softly at your earlobe, making you gasp quietly, interrupting yourself. “–about someone.”
He lets out a smug sound of understanding. “That sounds doable,” you hear him say, before he purrs confidently, “Let me help you.”
Just as the two of you lean in for a kiss you’re interrupted by the calling of your name.
“____!” You pull away to find Avi stumbling towards you. When she’s close enough, she grips onto your shoulders to try and keep herself up. “H-help.”
You look at her in worry and try to balance her but she’s quickly becoming more and more unstable, her words slurring and her body becoming limp. You begin to panic, “Avi? Avi! You’re scaring me, what's wrong!?”
Jungwon steps in to help you hold her up. “Shit, I think she was laced.”
Your eyes dart to his in worry, sensing your panic Jungwon tries to calm you down. “There’s a hospital nearby. I’ll call an uber and we can head over.”
You nod, trying to steady yourself for Avi’s sake. The two of you make quick work of ushering her out of the building and outside to help her get some fresh air while Jungwon orders the uber. It’s there in seven minutes and the three of you rush to the nearest children's hospital.
Once you arrive, Jungwon hands over Avi to the medical staff while you try and give them the information they need to admit her. She’s rushed into the emergency bay while you and Jungwon are told to sit in the waiting area while they pump her stomach.
“It’s going to be okay. We got her here in time, I’m sure the doctors have everything under control.” Jungwon says as he takes a seat beside you. It’s clear you’re distraught and don’t know what to do but it’s also clear that what you need right now is not only reassurance but a friend. Your shoulders slump instantly and you nod despondently. Cautiously Jungwon entwines your hands together, lacing your fingers with his.
He shifts, leaning his body into you allowing you to cuddle into him for some warmth, your lack of proper clothing clearly not helping. You bite your lip to keep in the tears before resting your head against his shoulder. You close your eyes, basking in his comforting presence, letting both his words and presence wash over you and ease your worries.
The both of you sit in silence for long, drawn-out moments before you finally speak up. “I’m sorry, this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your night.” You pull away and wrap your arms around yourself, “you can go if you’d like.”
Sensing your guilt and apprehension, Jungwon shakes his head softly and removes his bomber jacket to hand to you. You stare at it for a second before taking it and putting it on. “It definitely isn’t how I saw my night going but you clearly need a friend, it wouldn’t be right to leave you alone.”
You twiddle your fingers, “why are you being so nice to me?”
He purses his lips in thought, showcasing his dimples. “Like I said before, it’s clear you need a friend. You’re obviously going through something with a guy you probably really like and your friend is in the hospital after getting laced. You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”
You blink at him, embarrassed that he read you so easily. “I-” You cut yourself off and look away, feeling the tears start to well up. “I feel so lost and alone.”
Jungwon slowly reaches for you and brings you in for a hug, letting you cry into his chest. “I moved to this stupid city all by myself and now I miss my parents, I miss my home and worst of all I miss him. Avi is the only friend I have and I can’t help but feel like her being in this position is all my fault! She only wanted to go out to help me move on a-and we made this stupid bet about getting guys to buy us drinks and now she’s getting her stomach pumped!” You angrily rant to Jungwon, overwhelmed by the events that have transpired within the last twenty-four hours.
He listens, gently rubbing your back as you let it all out. “It’s normal to miss your life back at home, going to college is hard enough, let alone having to move to a different continent. I understand the guilt you’re feeling but I doubt Avi is mad at you for what happened, you weren’t the one who drugged her.”
You sniffle and wipe at your nose with the sleeve of his jacket, “I guess so.” You pull away from his wet chest to wipe away the remainder of your tears. “I’m scared.” You softly admit.
“Of what?”
“Being alone again.” You whisper, you can’t help but wonder if Jungwon will stay after this, if Avi will be okay enough to stay for the semester. You pray you don’t lose either of them.
“Good thing I don’t plan on leaving.” Jungwon offers with a soft smile, you look up at him gratefully and wrap him in a hug.
“Thank you.”
The two of you spend the rest of the night in the ER, the doctors eventually come to fetch the two of you to join Avi, letting you know that she’ll be just fine and able to return home the following day. Jungwon stays true to his word and doesn’t leave your side until it’s time for Avi to get discharged. The three of you clamber into the back of the Uber Jungwon ordered and drive to your dorms. While sitting at Avi’s bedside the three of you began conversing about anything and everything. You found out that Jungwon was also a freshman at Northeastern majoring in Biochem. On top of that, he was living in the same dorm as you-his room only two doors down.
Once you arrive, you bid farewell to Jungwon with the promise of grabbing breakfast with him and his roommate Beomgyu the following morning before heading into your own room.
“He’s cute.” Avi says as she gently takes a seat on the couch.
“Jungwon?”
She hums, “sweet kid.”
You nod absentmindedly as you gather your bathroom supplies. “I guess so.”
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Friday November 15th - present day
Three months have passed since the beginning of the semester and it’s safe to say that you’re beginning to feel at home in the city. Jungwon stayed true to his word and didn’t leave you. In fact, there was never a moment where you were alone. If you weren’t at Snell studying with Jungwon, you were at your dorm watching shows with Avi or at the dining hall grabbing lunch with Beomgyu. 
The four of you have truly become inseparable these past few months and you’re so grateful for the support they provide. It’s nice to finally have other people to rely on rather than having to rawdog life alone. When the four of you aren’t absolutely swamped with homework you grab dinner together at one of the dining halls before going back to your place for a movie night. Tonight happens to be one of those nights.
“Wollastans hands down has the best snack options,” Beomgyu says as he empties the grocery bag onto your living room floor. Avi hums and takes a seat beside him on the floor in front of the TV.
“That they do.” She reaches for the pack of gummy bears and offers some to Jungwon who’s laid on your couch arms wide open as he smiles up at you waiting for you to take your rightful seat in between his legs. He takes a handful of gummies and thanks Avi before patting his chest.
“Hurry up princess, I'm getting cold.”
You scoff and roll your eyes before kicking off your shoes and making your way across the threshold to plop down in between his arms. “What are we watching tonight?” You ask. Jungwon taps your cheek silently asking you to open up, you do and he plops a cherry bear into your mouth.
“Interview with the vampires.” Beomgyu replies as he ques up the show. Once it’s ready to go Avi hands you a blanket to cover yourself with before she cuddles up to Beomgyu, the two of them whispering to each other lost in their own world. You smile softly at them, you and Jungwon have a running bet of how long it was going to take before the two crack and just get together. They’re adamant that they’re just friends but it’s clear as day feelings are there.
You feel Jungwon wrap his arm securely around your waist before he places a soft kiss atop your head.
As touchy and flirty as the two of you are, you’re just friends. Once Jungwon made it clear he was here to stay you found the confidence to open up to him about Jake. You told him about the ghosting, the sex, how much he meant to you and how you don’t think you’ll ever love someone the way you love him or even be ready for a relationship anytime soon. Jungwon understood and made his intentions clear, he just wanted to make you happy. If that meant putting his feelings on the backburner and doing things your way so be it.
It wasn’t a fair deal at all, Jungwon devoted almost all of his time to you, he would walk you home from your late lectures, wake up at five am to run to Tatte to buy you breakfast before your eight ams, turn down girls who approached him in hopes that when you were ready you’d come running to him.
He did it all without complaint, he loves you fully and without restraint. He’s loved you from the start, he loves you the way you wish Jake had.
You can’t help but think about where Jake would fit in your life now. You’ve changed and made sure your new life left no room for him, you tailored your life to make sure Jake could never waltz back in and destroy all the progress you’ve made. You don’t think he’ll fit in with your group of friends anyhow. As this year has come and passed, you replaced Jake with Jungwon. It’s hard to picture Jake falling back into the role of being your only friend in your life.
You have Avi, Beomgyu and Jungwon. They look out for you and make sure to take care of you. It’s a reciprocal friendship, they’re pouring into you just as much as you pour into them if not more.
You snap out of your thoughts when Jungwon softly pinches your side. “You zoned out, are you okay?”
You nod your head and play with his fingers under the blanket. “Just thinking about how lucky I am to have you in my life.”
You feel him take in a sharp breath before pulling you into him even more. “I’m the lucky one.”
___
As the movie night comes to a close, you sit up from Jungwon’s hold to stretch, your friends following your actions. You reach for your phone to check the time to see if you can squeeze in one more movie.
“It’s only nine, we can start another show or watch a movie.” You offer
Jungwon wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you in closer to his side, “I don’t have anything to do tomorrow, I’m down.”
Avi stands up and clears her throat. “Actually can we go out?”
Beomgyu looks up at her questioningly, “wanna ride the blue bikes around campus?”
She shakes her head, “a Harvard frat is hosting to-”
“Absolutely not.” You cut her off. You haven’t been to another college party since the one at slackers, the sight of Avi getting drugged permanently put you off from the party scene.
She huffs, “why not!?”
You give her an incredulous look. “Are you being serious? You were drugged the last time we went to one, I don’t want to see you in the ER again!”
The boys can sense the growing tension, Beomgyu stands and tries to calm Avi and Jungwon soothingly rubs your arms.
“It was one time! I won’t drink this time!”
“I still don’t feel comfortable.” She throws her hands up and turns to pout at Beomgyu knowing it’s a weakness of his.
“Yah! this is between the two of you, stop pouting at me.” He says in response before turning on his heel to head to your kitchen to raid it for some more food. You huff and turn to Jungwon to have him plead your case but he only shakes his head, he knows better than to get in between the two of you.
“Uh-uh, No. You two figure this out.”
He stands from his seat beside you to go join Beomgyu in the kitchen.
Avi takes Jungwon’s seat and grabs your hands. “I promise I won’t drink! I know better now and the guys will be there! You know they won’t let anything happen to either of us! Come on, _____ please!”
You sigh and shift your attention to the boys goofing off in your kitchen, Avi is right. The boys wouldn’t let the two of you out of their sight, especially Jungwon as he was there for the last party the three of you had attended.
“Fine.”
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The living room of the frat is completely packed, people are scattered around the home, either dancing in a large group in the middle of the living room, relaxing in the kitchen with drinks in hand or smoking blunts upstairs. Something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by you is the hordes of couples pressed up against each other and the walls, making out and grinding against each other for the entirety of the house to see without a single care in the world.
You turn to face your friends, “an hour tops then we’re out of here!”
Avi playfully rolls her eyes, “aye aye captain.”
She grabs Beomgyu’s hand and they walk into the midst of the party leaving you with Jungwon. “Want to grab a drink with me?”
You pull your attention away from a guy who’s completely wasted and forcing another to a dance off to Jungwon who’s standing next to you. You shrug, “sure.”
You both exit from the hallway where your little group had clustered and enter the kitchen to grab a drink. Jungwon hands you a water bottle but you nudge away his hand and reach for a red solo cup to pour yourself a shot of tequila. You knock it back and move down the counter to pour yourself some of the punch.
Jungwon watches you in worry as you pucker your lips at the taste of the punch, “I thought no drinking tonight.”
“No drinking for Avi. Plus it’s for the nerves.”
He nods at you and takes a sip of his water. “What has you on edge?”
You look around the kitchen sadly before confessing what’s weighing on your heart. “It feels so odd being here, it was my dream for so long and now it’s just some other school down the block.”
Jungwon hums before scanning the area himself. “Do you regret choosing Northeastern?”
You sigh, “I..” you trail off to really think through your answer. Northeastern has become more than a safety net. You have a family here because of the school, people who love and care about you without restraint and would be crushed if you up and left them. You also can’t help but feel as though there’s a double meaning to Jungwon’s question. “I don’t think so, more so mourning what could have been here.”
Jungwon nods, “are you still thinking about transferring?”
You shake your head. “No, I think it’s time to close the chapter on this time period in my life.”
Jungwon stills beside you, to him, Harvard = Jake and the life you lived with him back at home in Australia, does this mean this is finally the end of you and that dirtbag?
You smile and place your arms around Jungwon’s neck. “I think it's time to start focusing on what I have here at Northeastern…with you.”
Jungwon swears he feels his heart stop at your words, are you finally going to give him a chance? His eyes suddenly gleam with mischief as he rests his hands on your waist and squeezes you a little tighter and yanks you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crash into his chest, all up in each other’s personal space.
Your eyes widen in complete surprise. 
“Are you saying what I think you are?” He teases with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 
You ignore the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneer at him. “Don’t be smug, I can still change my mind, you know.” You force space between you two and try removing his hands from your waist but his grip transforms into an iron lock. 
“You wouldn’t.” 
“Try me.”
He pulls you in close and leans in to whisper, “yeah? Then who's gonna do this?” He doesn’t wait for you to question him, leaning in right away to place his lips on yours and cage you between him and the kitchen counter. Your eyes blow out, taken by surprise until you find yourself quickly melting into the kiss, hands gripping his shoulders tighter. Jungwon can’t help himself from opening up his mouth to catch more of yours, lips sensually kissing yours in a slow, unhurried pace. 
You instantly love the way he kisses, completely taken by his pillowy, delicate lips. 
Jungwon doesn’t care if your lipstick smudges onto him or how brash the public display of affection seems; all he cares about is the soft feeling of your lips against his own for the first time and the fact that you’re willing to be his.
He knows it’s going to stay on his mind for weeks. 
You’re beginning to get lost until he disconnected your mouths, only looking at each other with overwhelming feelings and shimmering eyes that depict how nervous you are for this new step.
“Wanna dance with me?” You shyly ask.
Jungwon smirks, his mind recalling the first time he ever met you at that slackers party. “Where’s the fun in asking?” He mocks, you roll your eyes at the familiarity of his words before dragging him out of the kitchen and into the living room to dance away your inhibitions.
The two of you make your way to the center of the room knowing once you start dancing, all eyes will be on you. Jungwon squeezes your hips one last time before turning you around and helping you slowly grind down on him to the beat of the song, once you have a steady rhythm going on he begins to buck his hips to meet your pace.
Just like that night at slackers, you’re bent over whining your waist against Jungwon and catching the attention of those around you. Jungwon sneaks one arm around your front and gently squeezes at your right boob under your crop top, getting turned on by how your butt applies the right amount of pressure to his cock every time you bounce off of it and the lustful gaze of those watching. He could cum in his pants. You have to bite your bottom lip to keep from moaning.
As the song comes to a close Jungwon releases you and places a kiss against the base of your neck, “I’m going to grab us drinks, stay right here baby.”
You nod and let him remove himself from you completely to go get the two of you drinks, you turn around to see if you could potentially find Beomgyu or Avi and spend some time with them until he returns but before you even get the chance to fully scope out the area you feel someone grab onto your wrist and spin you around.
You’re about to tell the stranger off but your words get caught in your throat when you turn around to find a tall blonde man dressed in all black staring you down. You exhale sharply at the way he seemingly undresses you with his eyes.
“You sure know how to put on a show, princess.”
You feel your face heat up a bit at the use of pet name and being called out on the way you were just dry humping Jungwon. Not knowing what to say you wait for him to continue. Picking up on that, the stranger continues, “I’m Jay, what’s your name darling?”
“____” you breathlessly let out.
He hums and pulls you in closer, “sexy name for a sexy girl, who’s that guy? Your boyfriend?”
His hands travel down to grab at your ass over your leggings and you have a feeling that even if you were taken, Jay wouldn’t care.
You bite down a moan at the way he caresses your ass, taking turns between rolling the flesh and pinching it every now and then. He lands a sharp slap to your bottom when you don’t answer, his patience running thin. “Answer me princess.”
You shake your head, “n-no I’m si-”
Before you can finish your statement Jay gets ripped away from you by another male who huffs out in playful annoyance. “C’mon mate, it’s my birthday and you’re ditching me for some action?”
This time, your blood truly runs cold. Standing in front of you in all his glory for the first time in a year and three months is Sim Jaeyun. His eyes sweep over to you and the smile that was just gracing his face begins to slowly fall. Your eyes greedily take him in. You notice he’s dyed his hair back to black and grown it out a bit, parting it in the middle like you used to do for him during your walk to school. His shoulders also seem a bit wider, did he start working out? You even note his style has changed, gone are the tight skinny jeans and random hoodies. He’s dressed in wide legend pants paired with a simple white tee tucked in and Jordans on his feet.
“____.” He breathlessly lets out.
Hearing him call out to you breaks your heart, after all this time you thought you would be angry at him for what he did. Swearing to Avi that if you ever ran into him you were going to rip him a new one, maybe even slap him for having the audacity to hurt you the way he did. But now that you’ve been graced with the opportunity all you feel is a deep sadness, all your anger gone in that instant.
You see Jay’s eyes bug out of his head as he looks between the two of you. “She’s ____?”
Your eyes flicker over to Jay as you make the assumption Jake must have told him all about the two of you. Jake reaches a hand out to grab yours but you instantly jerk away from his touch. He doesn’t deserve it, your mind screams at you.
“Don’t.” You grit out, fighting back the tears.
Jake’s face falls even more at the malice in the simple word, heart breaking at how you avoid his touch but respects it nonetheless.
“Please, let me just ex-”
You don’t let him finish before you’re spinning on your heel and bolting out of the party. You knock into a few partygoers, the alcohol finally taking its effect. You hear muffled shouts of your name as you push past people to make it outside to the lawn. In your daze you don’t see your friends running after you.
You stumble out of the party and onto the lawn. The front of the frat house is nearly empty, save for you and a couple that’s making out on the grass. You stagger towards a bush when the overwhelming feeling of vomiting consumes you. Your stomach contracts violently and all the liquor you had consumed comes back up splattering the bushes.
“____!” You hear Jungwon call out your name before he’s kneeling beside you and holding your hair back.
You heave again and once more the contents of your stomach spray the ground. You sink to your knees and retch until only clear liquid is coming up. Your throat feels sore from the stomach acid that is layering it and your mouth tastes of vomit.
Avi kneels beside you and rubs your back soothingly as Beomgyu stands protectively in front of you, shielding you from Jake’s view as he tries to grab your attention, constantly calling your name.
“It’s alright,” you hear Jungwon whisper as you feel your stomach begin to settle. He slowly ties your hair up for you using a hair tie Avi offers and once he’s sure Avi has a steady grip on you, he’s standing to square up to Jake.
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Jungwon asks. Beomgyu’s eyes widen the tiniest fraction at his roommate's question, knowing damn well he can’t fight and Jungown might be alone in this one.
Jake scoffs and steps up to Jungwon, his own annoyance at its peak. “I’m her best friend who the fuck do you think you are?”
Your friends all still at the realization of who exactly the stranger is. Avi is the first to react, scoffing at his audacity from beside you as she looks up at him.
“You know you got a lot of fucking nerve to even call yourself that. You’re the one who ghosted her, you’re the one who left. You don’t get to claim that title anymore.”
Jake falters at the harsh glare he’s receiving from your friends but he’s determined to speak to you.
“You don’t know shit.” Jay spits out from behind Jake knowing the true story as to why Jake did what he did. Albeit shitty, his friend had his reasons and he wasn’t going to let anyone shame him for the decisions he made as a kid fresh out of high school.
Beomgyu swears he sees red. “Watch it.” He says as he shoves at Jay’s chest. Jay, having none of it though, pushes back causing Jungwon and Jake to have to step in and separate their friends before things escalate.
Jake pulls his friend away and harshly whispers in his ear before Jay scoffs and walks away back into the party. Jake clears his throat and turns back to you and your friends who are all still glaring and making a protective front around you.
“Please, ____. I Just need one chance to explain myself.”
Jungwon opens his mouth to respond for you but you're quicker than him.
“No.” Your voice is firm, “you don’t get to hurt me the way you did and expect me to give you the courtesy of explaining why you chose to break my heart.”
From your seated position you can see the tears swimming in his eyes and it almost makes you crack. Almost. But you need to choose you for once. You need to stop throwing caution to the wind when it comes to Sim Jaeyun, he never once did that for you.
“You’re a year too late.”
Still determined and not deterred by your stance, Jake takes a cautious step forward, stopping when Jungwon deems he’s gotten too close and steps up as well to place a hand on Jake’s chest.
“I’m sorry, ____. I know I fucked everything up and-and that I don’t deserve another chance but please-” He chokes back a sob, “please just let me explain!” Avi rolls her eyes and helps you stand. “What good will that do? You’re right, you don’t deserve shit from her. Explaining why you’re a shitty person isn’t going to change anything.”
Although harsh, Avi is right. Hearing him out won’t change the fact that he no longer has a spot in your life, it won’t change the damage he’s caused, it won’t do anything.
“Let’s go guys.” You weekly let out, completely drained and craving the warmth of your bed.
“____!”
You ignore Jake’s call of your name and leave with your friends surrounding you, making it impossible for him to see you anymore. Your heart seizes in your chest at the desperation in his voice as he calls out to you but you keep walking, you leave him behind like he did to you all those months ago.
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[November 15th, 12:35 AM]
[jake]: can we please talk?
[jake]: i’m sorry
[jake]: please
[jake]: _____?
[November 16th, 2:48 PM]
[jake]: i know you don’t want to talk to me but please let me explain ____
[jake]: i’ll leave you alone after, i swear
[November 17th, 6:15 PM]
[jake]: i’ll be at caffe nero near newbury tomorrow at 2 until they close
[jake]: please come and let me explain, i’ll leave you alone regardless of what you decide.
Jake stares down at his phone as he hits send, over the past two days he’s been sending you text messages praying you’ll respond but each one has been left on delivered. He doesn’t know if you’ve read them or even blocked him.
He tosses his phone aside and drops down on his hard dorm bed staring up at his ceiling wondering why he let things get so bad. He thought he was making the right decision for the both of you, thought he was doing right by you by leaving you alone.
Falling in love takes courage he doesn't possess at the time. You never stood a chance and it's little wonder why you felt so cheated.
Leading up to his departure from Australia everything was perfect, it was a dream. He had the girl of his dreams, a scholarship to the school of his dreams and for once- a supportive family backing every decision he made. It was new, it was different. It was scary. Jake grew up having to fight for his parents attention and had to work for their love, it was conditional, he had to be perfect. Being given it so freely and easily by you came as a shock.
He knew just how much you loved him, how much you had sacrificed over the years for him, he doesn’t deserve it now and he sure as hell didn’t think he deserved it back then. How could he love you if he barely understood how it worked? He had such a twisted view on love. At the time he thought it came with conditions, that he couldn’t love or be loved without conditions. That it was only a matter of time before the hammer dropped on your changing relationship and you began expecting more from him as a boyfriend, more that he couldn’t give.
Reading the letter was what really did it for him.
Of course he didn’t listen to you when you told him to read it once he was on the plane. He waited until you fell asleep and reached into the drawer to retrieve the letter and began reading it. Jake read it over and over again until he had it memorized, so much so that he still has it memorized to this day. He left you with the original but wrote it down on a napkin on the plane when he realized how big of a mistake it was to leave it. He sits up to walk over to his desk and retrieve his written version of the letter and begins to read it once again.
Dear Jake, my sweet angel boy,
I should have told you this right after prom: that there's this special love that I have deep within my heart. That love is only for you. It is far greater than this world. I wish I could show you how much you really mean to me. If I could only let you feel how much I really do love you in a kiss or a hug, you would begin to feel the love that I have for you.
If I could describe the love that I have for you and use lyrics of love songs or even the sonnets of Shakespeare, it would still be impossible, because the love that I love for you cannot be put into words. You've had my love from the day we met, and you will have it forever. As time goes by, my heart and love for you will keep growing stronger, brighter, and bigger.
Call me your love from this day forward. Although we have two different minds, and souls, we have one and the same beautiful heart. My love for you is unconditional. Please don’t forget that.
I love you with all my heart, body, and soul. I will never stop loving you. You are my life, my world, and everything to me. Distance may keep us apart for a short while but you will always and forever be embedded deep within my heart.
My beautiful love, you are my world and you have been since the first time I saw you. I felt love the first time I looked at you all those years ago in your backyard, and my world became a beautiful place to live in. I often ask myself, what in the world would I do without you now? I hope to never find out the answer to that question.
I’m writing you this letter to tell you how much you mean to me, and to thank you for coming into my life. You are something I never thought could exist for me. You are the best thing that has ever happened in my life, and I don't regret telling you how I feel.
I love you Sim Jaeyun, today, tomorrow, forever.
Tears swim in Jake’s eyes as he places the letter back in the depths of his desk. He wishes so badly that he didn’t run, that he stayed and talked through his fears with you but he was too much of a coward and knew deep down that you deserved better. He never deserved you to begin with and he was a fool for ever thinking a broken boy like him could ever love someone as amazing as you.
After leaving, Jake found it hard to settle into his new routine. He missed your presence every single day, finding it harder and harder to ignore your text messages asking how he was, if he had eaten, if he liked the campus.
By the time Jake had realized how big of a mistake he made and just how much of an ass he looked like, he couldn’t take it back. The damage had quite literally been done and it seemed you were moving on. The text messages stopped coming in, he was removed from your close friends and his mother no longer had any updates for him when he would ask. Apparently, you had stopped going over and it was rare to catch glimpses of you as the school year progressed.
When he had heard from his brother that you were no longer on the volleyball team he wanted to reach out and ask what happened. You loved the sport too much to just quit, especially during your senior year but Jake had a feeling he was the last person you wanted to hear from.
His first semester at Yale was nothing like he expected it to be, everything was dull and lifeless. Every day was the same routine: wake up, shower and brush his teeth, get dressed and head to lectures before studying at the library until midnight because his roommate had a girl over.
He felt like he was slowly losing his sanity. As the end of his first semester came to a close and winter break was fastly approaching Jake decided he had had enough. Yale meant nothing if you weren’t in his life. He knew at that point you had probably sent in your college applications and were practically a shoe-in for Harvard so he did what he thought would bring him peace.
He sent in his transfer application before the end of the semester to be able to start in the spring and got his acceptance right before winter break. He didn’t tell his parents about the sudden decision, knowing they wouldn’t be happy with him but he was done living in his fear. It was what caused him to lose you and he would be damned if he let it happen again.
He eventually told them once everything was set and as expected he received an earful about his decision from his father before he realized how deadset his son was on this before backing down.
Once the spring semester started Jake could slowly feel his world start to mend. Everything seemed brighter at Harvard; the physics program was easier, the people were kinder, he had friends and his new roommate wasn’t an ass.
Jay and Jake clicked the second Jake rolled his suitcases into the new room. Jay took him under his wing and treated him like a little brother. It felt nice to have someone to rely on, sure Jay wasn’t you but he slowly became someone who meant the world to him and he looked up to. Eventually Jay introduced Jake to his friends Heeseung and Sunghoon and the four became an inseparable group. The four of them truly did everything together: they took all their gen ed classes together, they attended each other's sporting events and they would often go to frats together with Jake staying sober to take care of his friends.
The guys never pushed Jake to explore the women that approached him at parties knowing his heart belonged to you. They had heard him go on and on about you on several occasions and knew he only transferred to be close to you. They admired his determination to right his wrongdoings but were truthfully skeptical if it would work. They encouraged him to just text you, arguing the more time he let pass the harder it would be to win you back but Jake argued back that this was something that couldn’t be fixed over text.
The semester flew by and Jake was increasingly getting excited. Once he had submitted his last final exam he was on the first flight back home to Australia in June. He couldn’t wait for you to start school in the fall to talk to you and he was long overdue for a trip back home, two birds with one stone. However, when he made it back home to Brisbane his dreams were once again crushed. His mother informed him about your solo trip to Europe and how your parents had sent you away under the guise of it being a graduation gift but really it was out of fear of your declining mental health.
Jake was lost, he had heard nothing about your mental state as his mother insisted she knew nothing about your life anymore when he would inquire about you over the phone. It came as a shock when his mom sat him down to tell him about you being kicked off the volleyball team rather than you just leaving like he assumed, how you no longer attended study groups and even skip school now. What came as the biggest shock was hearing you didn’t get into Harvard. Jake felt absolutely disgusted with himself.
He had caused this, he was the reason behind your suffering and yet he had the audacity to show up here thinking you would welcome him back. He was right, he really doesn’t deserve you. Look at all the pain he’s caused you and what you’ve lost in the process.
He didn’t stick around much longer after that, He flew back to the states a week before you came back from New Zealand and became hell bent on leaving you alone. He owed you that much, some peace after bringing nothing but chaos into your life.
The rest of his summer was a haze, he spent it getting high or drunk with Heeseung and Jay. He didn’t tell his friends about what he had heard from back home, the guilt eating at him but he made it clear that there would be no Jake and ____. The two of you were officially done.
Heesung and Jay were obviously worried about their friend, they knew of the love the male held for you and to see him so torn up over it that he was drinking all his inhibitions away or smoking until he was numb was alarming but they didn’t stop him.
They did however intervene towards the end of the summer when Sunghoon came back from Korea and Jake insisted the group went to an end of summer kickback. They had never seen Jake so out of it, he got so crossfaded that he passed out at the party and was unresponsive for twenty minutes.
Emergency services had to be called and the party got shut down. It was safe to say his friends were done with his shit and sat him down and forced him to talk about his emotions because they would be damned if they watched him continue down this path and eventually die from it.
That night was an eye opener for Jake and he swore he would get better, promised he would stop holding things in and be more upfront about how he was feeling. Seeing Jay cry over the possibility of his death was what really put things into perspective for him, the thought of you also possibly being torn over him dying got him to take his sobriety seriously.
His friends held him accountable as the new school year began, they cut back on frat parties, made the effort to not drink as much around him and even began being more open with each other due to Jay’s claims of “vulnerability breeds vulnerability.”
It was safe to say that Jake was finally beginning to heal. He knew sooner or later he would have to face the consequences of his actions and he was fully prepared to do so, just not so soon. It was Sunghoon’s idea to go to the frat at Kappa Alpha Theta for his birthday. Jake was fully prepared to say no and spend the day alone. This would be his second birthday spent away from you and he wanted the privacy to read through old birthday paragraphs you’ve sent him over the years and stare at the polaroids he took of you during your getaway to Sydney.
Jay and Heesung were having none of it though and insisted he needed to actually celebrate his birthday like Sunghoon said. Jake eventually caved when the three of them offered to stay sober with him. Seeing you at that party was devastating but seeing you in another man's arms was infuriating. Jake knew he had no right to be upset with you but it irked him that he was no longer the only male in your life. Jay had told him about the dance that took place before everything went to shit and Jake couldn’t help but wonder if you had fully moved on from him. Heeseung had to remind him that if you had, Jake couldn’t be upset with you, he had practically pushed you into Jungwon’s arms the second he decided to leave you behind in Australia.
“How long do you plan on staring at your phone?” Heeseung asks as he enters the younger male's room with Jay and Sunghoon trailing behind him.
Jake sighs and tosses the device to the side, “she still hasn’t responded.”
Sunghoon takes a seat beside Jake on the bed, “give her some space dude I’m sure seeing you at the party was the last thing she expected.”
Jay hums, “you did what you can. Give her space to decide what she wants.”
Jake heeds the advice of his friends. He’s inconvenienced you enough, leaving you alone to decide if you want to meet him is what you need now. He can only hope you do decide to hear him out.
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“I don’t think you should go.”
You look up at Avi who’s standing above you on the couch staring down at your phone screen, contempt written all over her face. You gently sigh and lock your phone, letting it fall on the couch with a soft thud.
“I know.”
Ever since the party Jake has constantly been texting you. Avi was beyond annoyed with the male and his inability to- “leave you the fuck alone.” You would read them as they come in, unable to bring yourself to delete the messages like Beomgyu advised when you told him about them.
“Just block his number, ____.” Avi huffs, crossing her arms as she stares down at you. You look away and draw figure eights into the couch cushions as you think.
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
It’s silent for a beat, you think for a few seconds before shrugging. “I don’t know.”
Avi sighs and uncrosses her arms. “You’re being selfish.”
You stop drawing imaginary shapes on the couch and fix your eyes on Avi, waiting for her to continue.
“What about Jungwon? Have you stopped to consider what this would do to him if you let Jake just waltz his way back into your life?”
You purse your lips, you haven’t talked to the younger male since the party. He’s been reaching out as well, trying to gauge how you’re feeling with the sudden appearance of Jake but you’ve yet to open them let alone respond.
“I don’t k-”
Avi groans in annoyance, cutting you off. “-I swear if you say I don’t know one more time, ____! Can’t you see how bad Jake is for you? One appearance and a few text messages and look at you! You’re not talking to us anymore, you haven’t left your bed in almost two days! Jake is toxic, this isn’t healthy!”
For some reason you want to defend his name, want to call Avi out on being a bitch but you don’t. You know she’s being logical and Jake doesn’t deserve it so you keep quiet. When she realizes her approach may have been a bit too harsh she softens a bit and takes a seat beside you.
“I’m sorry, I just-.” She cuts herself off with a deep inhale. “Jake will never love you the way Jungwon has. It’s harsh but true. Maybe Jake did have his reasons but that doesn’t change the fact that his approach was wrong. He didn’t stop to consider how hurt you would be and that’s not okay. Do you really want to be with someone who can hurt you so easily?”
She gently pats your back before continuing knowing you won’t answer. “Jake is selfish, he’s only ever cared about himself and Jungwon has only cared about you. Don’t miss out on what could be a great love with Jungwon because you’re infatuated with the idea of being with Jake.”
With that, she gets up and leaves you to stew in your thoughts. She’s right, Jungwon was the one to stay and pick up the pieces. He was the one to show you that love didn’t have to be painful, he’s patient, kind and above all absolutely madly in love with you. He healed you from the pain Jake caused so why are you self sabotaging? Who’s to say Jake won’t hurt you again? That he even has a valid reason for stringing you along?
Your phone buzzes on the couch pulling you out of your reverie. You sigh, expecting to find another text from Jake as you pick it up to look at it only to find it’s not from him but rather the other male you’ve been ignoring.
[November 17th, 7:37 PM]
[jungwon]: do you want to grab lunch with me at tatte tmr at 2?
You want to scream at how fate is playing out, now you really have to choose.
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[November 18th, 2:17 PM]
You march up the sidewalk to the sound of the steady patter of rain against the pavement that leads to the little cafe that’s tucked between the huge city buildings and hidden away from view with vines crawling up its side. You come to a stop in front of the door and take a deep breath to calm yourself before entering.
A part of you is scared you’ve made the wrong decision, you want to turn around and run to him but you know you need to see this through. People love to think about the what if’s: what if I chose the wrong major? What if we weren’t meant to ever meet? What if things had just gone the way I had so desperately wanted them to?
For you, it's what could have been that plagues your mind. To you, they’re far worse than what if’s because they were within your reach, the possibility of it coming to fruition so near but never close enough.
Jake has been your biggest what could have been, your almost. You try and reason that it’s okay that you picked him in the end, you need to know why. Why your love wasn’t enough, why the two of you aren’t together, why he was so quick to give up on the two of you.
You head inside and note the cafe isn’t big, it’s small and cozy. You spot Jake easily, he’s sitting near the back by a window facing you. He offers you a hesitant smile and wave of his hand. You exhale and slowly walk towards his booth and slide into the seat across from him. He meekly slides a drink across the table.
“I know you always liked lattes so I ordered one for you, I hope you don’t mind.”
You look down at the drink he had slid over to your side. It sits prettily in a white china cup, a leaf pattern in delicate milky foam among the pale brown. You wrap your fingers around it, enjoying the heat that spreads through your hands, grateful for the little warmth it provides. You take a hesitant sip, it’s bitter, but you recall telling Jake that only babies ask for hot chocolate.
Truth is, you had stopped drinking lattes once your friendship with him ended, the drink brought back too many unwanted memories. Memories of walking to the nearest cafe in Brisbane during finals season to get your coffee fix to stay up and finish studying were too apparent and hurt too much.
You take a bigger sip and this time let the warm liquid sit on your tongue for longer. You can't smell the bitterness of coffee beans in the warm air of the cafe and you feel safe and calm for just a moment. You allow yourself to get enveloped in the smell of baking bread and let your worries slip away for just a split second.
You place the cup back onto the table and slowly come back to reality. “Thank you.”
Jake shoots a shy smile your way and shrugs, “anything for you.”
You clear your throat and sit straighter, back on alert. You fiddle with the handle of your teacup not knowing what to say. Was this a mistake after all?
Jake, sensing your hesitance, decides to speak up first. “I’m sorry.”
“Why’d you do it?”
Jake studies your face for a good minute. He notes all the subtle changes about you, he picks up on your new hairstyle and the change in your clothes. He also picks up on the awkwardness that hangs in the air, things have never been this tense between the two of you and he doesn’t know how to deal with it.
“I was scared that I wouldn’t be enough.” Jake looks away for a brief moment to collect his emotions and make his apology sound as sincere as it can be. “Ever since we were nine you’ve loved me and I was scared that I would mess things up, that once we made things official you would expect more from me, more that I didn’t know how to give and that ultimately I would be the cause of your unhappiness and all I’ve ever wanted was for you to be happy, ____.”
“I had enough love for the both of us,” you softly confess, your heart breaking at the revelation of how he truly felt at the time. “Why didn’t you just say that? Why didn’t you let me love you?”
Jake gulps, tears stinging his eyes. “Because it didn’t seem like a fair trade. You don’t deserve someone broken. I thought love came with conditions and I didn’t want to drain you.”
You frown, growing annoyed with how he declares how you feel. It irks you how his brain works, how he assumed how you would react, how you would feel rather than giving you the opportunity to brave through the motions together.
“You don’t get to just make decisions on my half.”
Jake stiffly nods. “I know, I’m sorry.”
Your hands ball up into fists, anger beginning to consume your body. “I’m sorry isn’t enough! I was in love with you Jake! I was willing to go to the ends of the earth just to see you smile! Why didn’t you just talk to me? I would have loved you enough until you could love yourself! We could have made it work!”
Jake shakes his head, “no we couldn’t have.”
You glare at him, “why the fuck not!?”
This time Jake stays silent. Your eyes challenge him though, begging him to continue. To give you one good reason as to why he walked away but he gives you nothing, once again making you look like a fool for throwing caution to the wind and picking him.
Angry tears pool in your eyes as you forcefully stand from your seat and stare down at Jake. He looks up at you in surprise and shame. “Don’t you fucking get it? Even after all this time, I’m still in love with you!” You scoff as you see his eyes widening at your confession. “And yet you still can’t be honest with me, I feel so stupid. You make me stupid Sim Jaeyun.”
You don’t wait for him to respond before you’re bolting out of the coffee shop and out into the rain. It’s coming down harder now than it was when you left. You let out a string of curses at how soaked you’re getting and at how embarrassed you feel for confessing your love to Jake.
“____! ____, wait!”
You hear him calling out to you but you don’t stop, if anything it spurs you on to walk faster. The streets of Newbury are astonishingly empty due to the rain making it seemingly easy for a clean escape. What you fail to take into account though is Jake’s ability to sprint due to years of soccer.
He grabs onto your arm and spins you around to face him, determination written all over his face.
“I don’t deserve love, ____ I don’t!” Jake can feel his head spin with hurt, pain and daunting thoughts that have always plagued his self-deprecating mind. “That’s why I walked away. I can’t be loved, not by you, not my dad, not by anyone. I’m not worthy of it… I’m not a lovable person.” 
“Oh my Gosh..” You place a hand over your mouth, emotions reaching a crescendo as you raise your voice. “Yes you are, Jake. Why do you think I’m standing here and telling you I love you? Why do you think I ever did any of the things I’ve done for you? Couldn’t you see it in the way I looked at you? In the way I touched you, the way I trusted you? You’re worth every fucking last bit of love I have.” 
“You are the greatest love I have ever known, ____. It felt selfish to keep you all to myself knowing you could have had more! Knowing I was holding you back-”
You shake your head cutting him off, “I only ever wanted you. You were always more than enough Jake and I wish you had just told me! I would have reassured you each and every time! That’s what you do when you love someone!”
Jake suddenly closes the gap between you, gripping your face intimately as he looks into your frantic eyes. “I didn’t know how to talk through my emotions, ____. I thought it was better to deal with it alone and that caused me the best thing I’ve ever had. I’m still in love with you. My feelings are so strong I don’t know what to do with myself. I can’t think straight, I don’t think straight when it comes to you.” Your eyes stare back at his desperate ones, Jake trying so desperately hard to get you to understand. “I want to try again. I want to do it right this time and never let you go.”
Your lips quiver, taken aback by his warm touch and confession. Unable to resist the urge any longer, Jake slowly leans forward, one hand firmly grasping your waist, the other resting at the base of your neck, and presses your lips together. Lightning cracks overhead as the rain continues to pour down on the two of you, soaking through your clothes. But none of it matters. A warmth radiates through you as you continue kissing Jake as the world seems to melt around you. After a few moments, you slowly pull away, taking a small gasp of air. A sheepish smile creeps onto Jake’s face as you sigh against his lips, breaking eye contact for a moment before Jake plants another, shorter kiss on your lips.
“I love you, ____. I’m sorry for not trying hard enough before but please, give me another chance to love you the right way. The way you deserve. I’m not scared anymore.”
You sniffle and nod your head, “”Okay. Let’s try again. No hiding this time. I want all parts of you Jaeyun, even the parts that scare you.”
He smiles and pecks your lip one last time. “You have all of me.”
813 notes · View notes
quartzalynlove · 7 months
Text
Coming Home Injured
Pairing: Liu Kang, Kenshi, Johnny Cage, Raiden, Sub Zero, Scorpion, Smoke, Reptile x fem!reader (separately)
Summary: returning from a mission with a few bad injuries
Warnings: Canon typical violence, some descriptions of bad wounds
A/N: let's see if I can make personalized pet names for each of them without them being cringe. Feedback encouraged. Also if we're gonna keep writing for all 8 of these guys at once it's gonna take a minute for me to post so sorry abt that but more mk1 content is coming
Liu Kang
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The two of you sat in silence from the moment you returned home. You had completed the mission, but only by an inch of your life. The image of Liu Kang's concerned face, before you fainted in his arms, was still clear in your head.
Liu Kang assessed your injuries before treating them, trying not to be alarmed by the long, deep gash cut from your side into your abdomen. All the while, that look on his face never faded. You had seen Liu Kang when he was concerned many times, but this was different. That crease between his brows was deeper for some reason. As his hands shook, uncharacteristically, while he cleaned your wound, you finally identified the expression. It was the same one you saw when Kenshi lost his sight on the mission to capture Shang Tsung.
"Darling," your voice was weak as you looked down at him.
Immediately, Liu Kang's eyes shot up at you. With his worry growing, he placed a hand on your thigh.
"My light, please do not exert yourself."
Slowly, your hand took hold of his. Your grip was so weak that Liu Kang could hardly bear it. Instead, he took your hand in his and kissed your knuckles. You felt a shuddering breath against your skin as he pulled away.
"Don't you think you're a bit too concerned?" You asked.
With deep regret, Liu Kang bowed his head, not able to look at what he'd done to you.
"You shouldn't have returned this injured," his low voice started to break. "I shouldn't have—"
You stopped him before he could say another thing, "Lift your head," you told him.
Liu Kang looked up at you, slowly, his breaths still heavy and unsteady.
"You used your judgment as well as you could, and I fulfilled your orders. I came back to you."
Starting to calm, Liu Kang nodded in understanding.
"Not every round of Kombat is easy, but I'll be okay."
Upon seeing your reassuring smile, Liu Kang's breathing finally steadied, and his grip on your hand started to soften.
Kenshi
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You winced in pain as Kenshi finished a stitch on a rather brutal injury. If he hadn't gotten to you sooner, the blood loss would have killed you. What you did lose on your staggering trek back home already made you lightheaded. Kenshi insisted on you resting; he made you something to eat and made sure you were drinking water. As you laid on the couch, resting yourself after a tough mission, Kenshi was rubbing your feet. You noticed his clenched jaw and the tight line his lips formed. Part of you wished you could sit up and hold his face, but you didn't want to risk popping a stitch while it was still fresh.
"What's on your mind, Kenshi?"
He turned toward your voice before trying to dismiss you with a shake of his head. "Nothing, my flower. Please try to rest."
"Don't say 'nothing' when it's clearly something, love."
You didn't say anything else, still too out of it to try and coax anything else from him. Thankfully, he wasn't going to make you do the work.
"I should've been there," He said quietly. "If I were there to protect you, you this wouldn't have happened."
Kenshi was such a gentleman, your very own knight in shining armor, but he often piled too much on his plate without noticing. He did know he didn't have to save you every time, didn't he?
A lazy smile graced your face, "Honey, I'm fine." You told him.
"You aren't fine—"
You interrupted, "I'll be fine," you said slowly. "You've patched my wounds, forced food and water down my throat, and you're even keeping me company here and rubbing my feet. You've saved me already, my hero."
Kenshi sighed as your words put him at ease, silently accepting that you were right.
"Besides," you continued. "I'm a big girl; I can handle myself. You should ask Sento to show you the other guy."
As Kenshi started to chuckle, you wore a proud smile before feeling yourself fall asleep on the couch.
Johnny Cage
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Johnny was all over the place. While you held onto your side on the couch, he searched the area frantically for God knows what. All you could hear was his half-rambled sentences around.
"Johnny." You tried to get his attention.
He stopped for just a second just to point a finger at you. "Hey, don't move over there. I just gotta..."
As he left again, you let your head fall back, sighing in pain.
"I'm calling Liu Kang." You said.
Something in the kitchen clattered as Johnny shouted. "No, don't call him; I've got this!"
"I've been bleeding on our couch for five minutes!"
Sighing, Johnny came back again and looked at you. In any other circumstance, it would be cute how frantic he was over you. Unfortunately, however, your life was at stake and he was running around the house like the Roadrunner. Finally, Johnny finished assessing your injuries.
"Water," he snapped his fingers. "I'll get you some water."
"Johnny!" You stopped him before he could take off again.
In Johnny's defense, he was very worried. It was written all over his face. As you sighed, you spoke to him very carefully.
"I keep a first aid kit in the bathroom cabinet."
With many understanding nods, Johnny seemed to calm down before heading to the bathroom.
"First aid kit," he said to himself. "Why didn't I think of that?"
Raiden
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You didn't know how you were still alive, and if it weren't for Raiden, you'd surely be dead. Once you got through the portal, you tried to make it home to him, but Raiden ended up finding you collapsed on the academy grounds as blood quickly made a pool around your stomach. When you came to, the only sensation you could make out was Raiden's feet striking the ground as he ran with you in his arms. You must have managed to say something because you saw his eyes meet yours before darkness obstructed your vision again
The next time you woke you were somewhere indoors. A bright yellow light blinded you before your eyes could adjust. You felt Raiden squeeze your hand as your head turned.
"You're awake." He gasped.
All you could muster was a faint smile. That searing pain from the gash that opened your stomach still wasn't gone.
"Not for long." You said weakly.
Raiden's face became worried as he inched closer to you from his chair at your side.
"I must keep you awake," he said almost as a plea to you. "I've taken you to the medics, and they said if you wake I couldn't let you close your eyes again."
You whined with a frown. "It hurts, Raiden."
Raiden brought his free hand on top of yours, trying to comfort you with small rubs.
"I know, but I am here. I've got you."
As you looked at Raiden, the pain seemed to lessen. Everything felt warmer as long as you focused on him.
"I bet Shao thought he killed me." You said.
A bright smile appeared on Raiden's face at your decision to stay with him. "He is in for a surprise the next time you meet."
Sub Zero
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You were a victim of Bi-Han's cold frustration. Honestly, it agitated you more than the searing pain caused by the cleaning of the open wound across your side.
From the moment you came back to him, limping through the front door with the last of your strength, he didn't utter a sound. You remained in awkward silence as he had you sit on the kitchen counter with your back straight while he patched you up.
As he stitched you up, Bi-Han was moving at a harsh pace. It wouldn't harm your wound, but it was almost more painful than the wound itself. Bi-Han was aware of the sharp breaths you sucked in and pained gasps, but they were no deterrent to quickness.
"Bi-Han," you finally snapped at him.
With a cocked eyebrow, Bi-Han stepped back, eyeing you with such an icy glare and that scowl you thought wasn't welcome in your home.
Your eyes searched his face, hoping to find your lover buried beneath that avalanche, "You're hurting me." You said.
A scoff came from Bi-Han as he attempted to work on you once again. "This can't hurt nearly as bad as your other injuries."
You wouldn't let him come back to you, however, pushing him back with the palm of your hand. "Well, it isn't exactly helping."
Bi-Han folded his arms over his chest. "Do you expect me to coddle you?"
"Some sympathy wouldn't hurt." You spat back.
In disbelief, Bi-Han came back to you, forcing himself into your view. "You want my sympathy for the consequences of your reckless actions? My assistance is enough comfort."
He readied the needle for the next stitch, but before he could jam another hole into you, you took the needle out of his hand.
You didn't look at him as you spoke. "I would rather help myself."
After staring at you for a moment, Bi-Han walked away with a grunt. However, even as he started to leave, your wincing continued. You tried to finish the stitching yourself, but the wound was in such a place that you couldn't reach it without straining the rest of your body. Not to mention aggravating the wound itself.
Bi-Han couldn't bear to watch and listen to you struggle. You were only hurting yourself more. Casting his face down for a moment, Bi-Han exhaled before returning to your side.
Before you could begin another stitch, you felt a cold hand stop the needle.
"The stitching will be ineffective this way."
That growl had left Bi-Han's voice, and his face softened, save the deep crease between his brows. Although his gaze would not meet yours, you gave the needle back to Bi-Han, feeling in the air that his anger had dissipated. As he went to work once again, he was much more gentle, and his work didn't hurt nearly as much. Still, he was very quiet. It was clear he wasn't angry with you anymore, but something still troubled him.
Once the stitch was finished, Bi-Han went to tend to your smaller injuries, remaining so quiet and drawn away from you. As he went to clean a cut on your cheek his eyes remained fixated on the wound, not once glancing towards you. Becoming concerned for him, you stopped him with a gentle hand on his arm.
"Bi-Han," you began turning to face him, but his face turned away. "Will you look at me, sweetheart?"
He couldn't; he was ashamed to do so. Although he should have had better control over himself, Bi-Han lost his temper with you.
"I was worried," he said, his face finally falling. "Seeing you come home in this state concerned me. I'm sorry I let it contort into anger."
With a small smile, you took the side of Bi-Han's face in your hand, fixing it towards you. It melted him a bit to see your face. Even after how he had acted, you still smiled at him.
"I knew of your anger long before we got together," you said. "And while it can be frustrating, that doesn't mean I'm not willing to work through it as long as you are."
Bi-Han leaned into your touch, sighing as he let his eyes close. "Just promise you'll act more carefully on future missions."
Scorpion
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Kuai Liang tended to the large gash across the length of the back. The wound was deep and wide, he could hardly fathom how this had happened to you. However, his focus remained on bandaging you before it suffered any infection. Kuai Liang worked gently as he secured the bandages around you, but you dreaded turning back to him. Once you did, you turned away quickly from his gentle face, eager to get away from where his eyes gazed. Confused by this, he stopped you, taking a soft but firm hold of your arm.
"You should let me help with getting you ready for bed. I don't want you exhausting yourself, precious."
You huffed, but couldn't lose your temper with Kuai Liang's warm eyes gazing at you. Still, you snatched your arm back, turning your back to him again.
"I can manage, Kuai Liang." Your tone wasn't exactly angry but somber instead, bringing a confused expression to Kuai Liang's face.
He started to catch up to you again, "Your injuries are very serious, Y/N." He said as a word of caution.
As your jaw clenched, you quickly turned back to Kuai Liang, your tone more serious now. "And I said I can manage."
Suddenly, a sharp pain radiated through your shoulder, causing you to wince and grab at it. You turned too fast. Kuai Liang placed a hand on your shoulder, generating the softest heat to ease the pain.
"Beloved, what is wrong," He said with concern as he turned back in front of you. "It can't just be your injuries making you this upset."
With a soft sigh, you started to break your frustration, letting the sadness you truly felt manifest in your face, "Aren't you disappointed?" You looked up at him.
Kuai Liang's brows furrowed in confusion. Your expression was so sad and apologetic. How could you think he was disappointed?
"In you," he asked in disbelief. "Of course not, precious. Why would I be?"
Gesturing to yourself, you let out a shuddering breath, "Look at me," your voice began to break. "This is no state for a champion to be in after Kombat,"
Kuai Liang felt his heart break; he knew you always held yourself to a status that kept you worthy of the mantle that was Earthrealm's champion, but he hated to see you acting this harshly towards yourself.
As tears started forming in your eyes, you continued. "You and your brothers fight to bring honor to your clan's name; you persist no matter the challenge. How can I be a champion when I haven't done the same for Earthrealm?"
You faced the floor as tears streamed down your cheek, but Kuai Liang wouldn't let you shut yourself out from him again. Lifting your head with his index finger, Kuai Liang started wiping your tears as his hands cradled your face.
"Beloved," his voice was soft as he spoke to you. "You accepted your challenge and fought with all you had. Honor isn't about winning but fighting valiantly in the name of your clan. By engaging in Kombat for the glory of Earthrealm and its champions, you have brought honor. For that, I am proud of you as I always am."
As your tears slowed, Kuai Liang gazed into your eyes with a nod of understanding. Once you nodded back, he planted a kiss on top of your head.
Smoke
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Tomas hadn't left your side since you returned home last night, and though he tried his best to conceal it, you could feel how worried he was. All of your wounds were patched up, and you were starting to feel better, but he still insisted on doing every little thing for you. It was sweet; you knew how much he cared for his loved ones, especially you, but he did know you'd be okay, right?
By the time you had woken up, Tomas was in the shower, and you were starving. It wasn't going to strain you to cook breakfast, so that's what you went to do.
You had just begun cooking when Tomas came out of the shower. When he returned to your bedroom and found the bed to be empty, he froze in fear. Frantically, he hurried around the house, looking for you. It didn't take him long to reach the kitchen where you were cooking at the stove.
"What are you doing out of bed, my love?"
You turned to see Tomas' concerned face. Smiling, in hopes you would put him at ease, you gestured to the pan of bacon on the stove.
"Cooking," you answered him. "I'm hungry; I bet you are too."
With a small frown, Tomas sighed softly as he leaned against the island, "I could've handled this." He said.
As you turned back to the stove, you nodded. "Yes, but you were in the shower. Besides, I felt like cooking."
You could hear Tomas grumbling behind you as he came closer. Suddenly, he put his hand on top of yours, trying to take the pan from you.
"I'd much prefer it if you stayed in bed, my love."
Tightening your grip, you looked back at him. "I've been in bed since yesterday evening, let me cook us breakfast."
By this point, Tomas didn't know what to do other than pout disapprovingly, but you weren't going to have it.
"Tomas," you called him. "Look at me."
With a sigh, he listened, backing up to eye you before you explained your instruction.
"I'm doing better. It's not like I'm going to fall over at the stove."
He tried to interrupt, "You don't—" But you silenced him with a hand on the center of his chest.
You continued softly. "Go sit down and wait for your food."
The two of you shared a brief look before you closed your eyes, waiting for him to kiss you. Once he did, you opened your eyes to Tomas walking to sit at the table.
Reptile
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You hissed as Syzoth finished a stitch on your shoulder.
"I know it hurts, but we're almost done." He tried to calm you.
Usually, you tried to fight him when he patched you up, but you came home in pretty rough shape. The only complaining you could manage was in the form of winces and grunts. Syzoth never really minded, though. If anything you reminded him of his younger siblings when they'd hurt themselves playing.
"There," He said, putting the needle down. "You'll be fine in a few days."
As Syzoth looked at you with a soft face, you couldn't help feeling a small sense of shame.
"I'm sorry." You apologized, playing with your hands in your lap.
Syzoth tilted his head at you. "For what?"
"I can be so stubborn when you're only trying to help."
An incredulous slithering laugh started to leave Syzoth at your words, confusing you a bit. Putting your hands in his, Syzoth looked into your eyes.
"Firefly, I have faced much worse than you upset about getting a few stitches. As long as you're okay, you can bicker and grunt at me all you like."
Syzoth kissed you on the forehead before leading you to the bed.
"I never did ask how your opponent ended up." He looked over at you.
With a proud smile, you answered him. "Let's just say if I was injured the same, would have done more than bicker at you."
2K notes · View notes
inthedoghousern · 4 months
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settle down
pairing: lando norris x fem!reader
summary: lando has always been a good friend of your brother, so you know he's off limits, but sometimes you just can't help yourself. guess you'll never learn. inspired by "settle down" by the 1975.
contains: 18+, cursing, alcohol/drinking/smoking, suggestive content (make outs!).
4.4k words
a/n: ok let me clarify: loosely inspired. this isn't reallyyyyy the 'storyline' of the 1975's settle down, but that's okay!
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You're wearing your hair down and it slightly covers your face as you go to answer the knocking coming from your front door. When you open it, you're surprised to find your brother's best friend standing there. 
"Oh, you're early, no?" You ask, puzzled, while pushing your hair behind your ears. You knew your brother was throwing a party tonight, but that was in a little bit, and your brother wasn't even home at the moment. 
"He told me to come early to help set up. Whatever that means," he answers. 
"Not sure if he knows that because he's not here," you tell him. Your brother is an idiot. "Well come in I guess." You shrug and move to the side, motioning Lando in. 
You didn't really mind. Of course, you and Lando were friendly, considering he was so close with your brother. When you were younger you even hung out with the two of them a lot. As you got older, their racing and your school stuff just caused the friendship between you and Lando to be more casual. And it was fine. Sometimes schedules would work out and Lando, your brother, and you would cross paths. But for the most part, you just followed his life online like everyone else. 
Though you had to be honest, back then, Lando didn't seem to have much of an effect on you, but now as he stands in front of you, you feel a lump forming in your throat. When did he get so good-looking?
You don't know what has come over you as the two of you enter the house. You feel like falling all over the place. You two make your way to the living room and sit on the couch. It's silent for a moment before Lando speaks up.
"Where even is he?"
"Pretty sure he's stocking up on drinks for tonight. I don't know why he wouldn't have waited to bring you, or just like, tell you to come later." You shake your head. 
Lando laughs and shakes his head too and the silence returns. 
Now you ask a question. “Hasn't been just us in a while, huh?”
“It's been a minute.” Lando chuckles along with you, the silence now slightly less awkward.
You lean back on the sofa. “So how are you? I haven’t seen you in forever,” you ask with a smile. 
“I’m good, I’m good. Honestly, nothing too interesting going on.” He shifts on the couch.
The two of you sit in silence again, until Lando speaks up. 
“You're staying for the party, right?”
“Yeah. Thought I’d stick around this time.”
Lando tilts his head to the side. “Is that so?”
Your stomach does a flip. You try to shake away the thoughts entering your mind. He’s your brother's best friend, you've known him for years, you need to relax. 
“Mhm,” you hum in response. 
Lando looks down for a moment and then over at you. 
“When’s your brother getting back?”
“Not sure.” You open your phone and check his location. As you look away, Lando eyes wander to your neck, then your torso and legs, then your lips, all in the span of a few seconds as you sit on the couch next to him. He had spent countless hours with your family, sat and talked with you many many times. What a familiar face yours was to him. But today he couldn't help but notice something had changed between you. Was it all the time you had spent a part? Or maybe the fact that he's finally seeing you in person and not through a screen. Lando would never admit it, but lately he tended to linger on your social media posts longer than he should.
Lando meets your eyes again when you look up from your phone.
“Yeah, I have no idea, looks like he's still shopping. Do you want me to ask?”
Lando shrugs, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. 
“It’s alright, I was just asking.” He leans back again, stretching his arms over his head as he does.
You can’t help but look at the exposed skin of his stomach when his t-shirt rises. Your eyes glance down, but you look away as quickly and inconspicuously as possible. 
But Lando does notice your brief glance down and back up again. If you could see his expression, you’d notice it’s a mixture of amusement, and something else. He doesn’t say anything though. Instead, he leans forward, speaking slightly softer. 
“You know, I've missed seeing you.”
You can feel heat rising up the back of your neck. Still, you feel a smile tugging at the sides of your mouth and now the two of you are making eye contact. “Oh really?”
Lando can feel your breath on him. He lets out a small breath himself, letting out a shaky laugh. He looks you deeply in your eyes and brings his arm to the back of the sofa behind you. 
Time seems to move extremely slowly. The atmosphere is charged, your eyes locked on to one another. Lando holds your gaze for a moment, waiting to see if you have anything more to say. 
You lean towards him. He feels you press yourself against him. The two of you are so close together, you can feel Lando’s body heat rising, his muscles tightening.
He leans forward, brushing his lips against yours very softly.
You kiss him back. As you do so, Lando gently moves his hands to your waist and pulls you closer to him and you wrap your arms around his neck. The kiss continues and grows much more passionate. You feel Lando’s hands moving up and down your back, the two of you fully enveloped in one another.
Your position shifts, and now you’re sitting on his lap. Still connected in your kiss. 
Lando’s mouth moves along your jaw, “Fuck Lando,” you breathe out as he kisses your jaw and neck. Your hands are buried in his hair. 
Your words bring a small chuckle from him, and he smiles into your neck. He's finding himself so fixated on the girl with the soft sounds. Her hair all over the place. 
You're also fixated on this boy. Lando Norris. The guy you've known your whole life. The guy who's best friends with your brother. The guy who was off limits. He isn’t supposed to be the guy to make you feel like this, and yet, here you are, on top of him. 
Lando’s hands slide under your shirt as he continues to kiss you. 
The feeling of Lando running his hands all over you and his suffocating kisses are almost enough to make you forget where you are. Who you are. Almost. The illusion breaks when you hear a sound from outside. 
A car door shutting. 
The two of you freeze. As one, you both turn your heads. The sound is followed by footsteps. Heavy footsteps. 
It’s your brother.
“Fuck,” you laugh, panicking. You quickly slide off of Lando. 
“Goddamnit.” Lando shakes his head with a smile and sits back. 
You’re both a bit of a mess. You two are breathing heavily and you're flushed. Your hair disheveled. You’ve just barely finished fixing yourself when you heard your brother’s voice from the front door. 
“I’m back.”
“Hey!” You clear your throat. “Lando’s here." 
“Thought so, I saw his car in the driveway.” Your brother steps into the living room, a bag in his arm. 
“What’s up man,” Lando gets up. “You got more stuff in the car?” He asks your brother. 
“Yeah a few more boxes,” he responds. 
“Alright let me help.” They walk back outside together and you lean back on the couch, looking up and covering your face with your hands. 
You sit there for a moment, feeling a bit shaken. You feel a little dirty almost? But you can’t stop thinking about the way Lando kissed you.
You let your hands fall to your sides before the two of them walk back in. Your brother sits on the couch and Lando sits in a chair across from you. Just a few feet away. It’s like nothing happened. You know he can't be found with you.
Luckily, your brother is completely oblivious. 
“People should start getting here in like an hour,” he comments. 
You get up from the couch. “Alright, I’m gonna get ready then. See you guys later.” 
You rush upstairs and shut the door. Your heart is pounding, and you’re still in disbelief. As you lie down on your bed, your mind races with everything that just happened. 
You cannot let your brother find out.
He would probably kill you, or kill Lando. 
No, he’d kill both of you. 
-
You spend more time than you should getting ready, but you’re hoping to calm down a little. Eventually, you start to hear music from downstairs, and the bass shakes your floor. You also begin hearing the sound of voices and laughter as your brother greets people at the door. 
You take a deep breath as you look at yourself one last time in the mirror. Now or never. Just avoid him. 
You walk down the stairs and are immediately met with 'hellos' and 'heys' from different directions. You greet as you weave your way through the house, and finally, you get to the kitchen. You beeline to the fridge, getting a drink. 
“Hello helloooo,” you hear from behind. When you turn around you're met with your best friend. 
"Hey!" Her arrival is a breath of fresh air after feeling so out of sorts with Lando. She gives you a big smile and hugs you tightly.
“Thank god you’re here,” you say as you pull away from the hug. “Get a drink and then we need to talk. It’s important.”
Your best friend gives you a curious look, raising her eyebrow at you in surprise. She glances around for a moment and then back at you. 
“What is it? Is something going on?” People are in and out of the kitchen around you two. The house is getting busier and busier. You look around quickly and then whisper in your friend’s ear, “It’s about Lando.” 
“Shut the fuck up,” she whispers, a look of excitement in her eye and concern as well.
“Yeah, I know. Now get a drink and let’s get outside or something,” you laugh. 
“Are you being serious? Did you fuck Lando?” She leans in closer as if she doesn’t believe what she’s hearing is real.
“Shush! Oh my god come on.” You pass her a drink and grab her hand, pulling her behind you. 
Though, as you try to exit the kitchen people are also walking in, causing a bit of a standoff. And of course. It’s Lando and your brother. 
“Hey what’s up!” your brother greets your best friend. 
Out of you four, your brother is the only one who is out of the loop on the current... situation.
Lando directs a nod toward your friend but soon looks back at you. You're staring back. 
“Hi nice to see you both I was just going out for a smoke talk to you later goodbye," your best friend quickly rambles to the two boys, and then you both push past out of the kitchen. 
You can feel Lando's eyes on the back of your head as you go out the door.
-
You sit on the porch and she lights a cigarette, taking a drag, and then turning to you, “I can’t believe it. You’re not fucking with me right?” She says laughing. 
You laugh and put your head in your hands. “I’m being so serious," you mutter but then look up again. "But we didn't sleep together. It was just a... heavy makeout...? That got interrupted."
She starts laughing and you laugh with her, the two of you in disbelief. 
“Dude you can’t just hook up with Lando! Oh my god, your brother is going to freak out.” She says, still laughing. 
“I know. He cannot find out.” You smile and take a sip of your drink.
Your best friend looks at you over her cigarette, “…well, I mean, was it good?”
"It wasn’t bad…” you trail off with a grin. Your best friend smirks as you speak, raising her eyebrow and laughing out loud. 
“It wasn’t bad.” She repeats, and you can hear the amusement in her voice. 
“You’re a mess.” She says, and the two of you burst out laughing as if it’s not a big deal at all. She's right, you are a mess. You're avoiding him and yet wondering if he's talking 'bout you too. 
The two of you keep talking and drinking on the porch until your cans are empty. “Alright,” you say slapping your knees and standing up. “We should be social, and I need another drink.”
“You would be right," your best friend says immediately and gets to her feet. You’re relieved to have her with you, maybe she’ll help you keep your mind off of Lando and what just happened. And getting another drink wouldn’t hurt either. 
“C’mon.” Your best friend pulls you away from the porch and the two of you reenter the party.
-
You're back in the house and the night resumes. You have fun for a bit, talking to your other friends, drinking, and doing some shots. You know Lando is here somewhere, but you don’t know where and you don’t really care. Don't want to care at least. 
At one point, your best friend pulls you aside again, “I’m gonna have another smoke, you coming?” she asks. 
“Yeah sure, I could use some air.” You two go outside again. It's gotten later and you're feeling the cold air prickle against your skin. 
She lights her cigarette as someone else from the party comes out, and they light up too. The three of you talk for a while, but you're starting to feel too cold, and you're the only one not smoking. 
“Hey, I’m going back in,” you tell her. She nods, “Cool, I’ll see you inside later, I’m gonna chill out here for a bit.” 
You head back into the party, and once again it’s crowded: people are moving between rooms, there’s music blasting, and you can smell the liquor in the air. 
You're pushing through bodies as you walk through the living room. You pass someone and the two of your arms collide hard. You go to mumble a 'sorry', but you stop yourself when you see who it is. 
Lando. You both pause. 
You feel the heat coming off of his body and your chilled skin from the night air touches against him. You're cold and he burns. You shiver, unsure if it's from the temperature outside or the man standing in front of you. 
“Cold?” he asks leaning close so you can hear him over the music. 
You laugh, “I was just outside. Won’t take long to warm back up in here though.” 
He smiles slightly at you and nods, but the look in his eyes reveals he knows there’s more to it than that. 
You can still feel the heat coming off of him, and you don’t know how to avoid it. You’re trying to block out the memories of what happened in this living room earlier, but it’s pretty obvious the tension between the two of you is still there.
“Wanna go get another drink?” he asks. 
There’s a part of you that knows you should say no, but there’s also a certain adrenaline rush that courses through you in his presence. He doesn’t seem to care about the circumstances, and he’s actually making this interesting.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Let’s get a drink then,” he says, grabbing your shoulders and turning you towards the kitchen. You walk ahead as he follows with his hands on your shoulders. The sensation of him holding you makes your heart race, you feel like his touch could burn a hole right through you. 
You get to the kitchen and Lando lets go of you, making his way to the fridge, grabbing you both drinks. You sit on the counter as Lando stands in front of you with his own drink.
You take some time to just look at him, your eyes locked on his, and he looks right back at you. There’s this air of tension between the two of you and despite neither of you outright acknowledging it; you both know. 
“Having fun?” you ask him, taking a sip of your drink. 
“Yeah, I’d say so,” he teases you, taking one step forward so that he’s standing closer than he was before.
“Are you having fun?”
“Yes, I am,” you say looking down at him from your position on the counter. 
“Good.” 
It’s such a simple word, but the way he speaks it is almost provocative. Everything about him right now is like that.
You both sip from your drinks, and he’s so close to you that you feel like you could lean forward and kiss him without moving. The idea has you feeling a bit dizzy.
You don’t say anything and neither does he; everything between the two of you is so intense, so silent. You're losing your words. You two are speaking in bodies. 
You break the eye contact and don’t say anything as you put your drink down and get off of the counter. You and Lando are nearly pressed together for a moment when you get down, but you move to the side and start leaving the kitchen. 
Confusion is all over Lando’s face, he turns as you walk by. 
“Where are you going?” He laughs as he starts to follow. 
You start moving through the party to the stairs, and you don’t look behind you to see if he’s following. You know he is. As you get to the staircase you start climbing up and Lando's nearly on your heels with every step you take. 
When you reach the second floor and it’s dark and quiet. You open the door to your room and walk inside, Lando is right behind you as you do so. You enter the room and hear Lando closing the door and clicking the lock. The party is downstairs, and up here it’s a different world. 
You and Lando stand there for a moment, and the silence is deafening. You both know why the other came to this room and in the low light, he moves closer to you. 
You can feel his hand wrap around your waist slightly and he pulls you towards him. Lando smiles softly as you wrap your arms around his neck. Your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck, and your body is pressed against his. 
“You know…” he whispers to you, “I really would like to finish what we started earlier…”
“Or is the idea of your brother being downstairs too much?” he whispers softly, as his hands move to the small of your back, holding you gently and close to his body.
The air seems to be hot as you press yourself against Lando. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, the heat coming off of his body as he leaned his own against you. 
“I love the guy but I really wish he wasn’t here. Or that anyone was here,” his voice almost a whisper, “but I guess that means we have to be really quiet…”. 
You smile and shake your head, “I guess…” your eyes are flickering from his eyes to his lips. You shouldn’t want this, but you really do want this. 
Lando smiles back, his hand trailing your back slowly. It’s a tease and you know it. His one hand starts to move up your back, making its way towards the back of your neck, and he brings his free one to the side of your face. Your arms are still wrapped around him. He traces his fingers along your cheek slowly, and you feel your breath catch in your throat. 
Your bodies are close together and you can feel their heat against each other. The air is thick, and you know what needs to happen next.
You both lean towards each other and meet in the middle, finally tasting each other again. The kiss is filled with passion and you can feel his lips on yours, his tongue meeting your own.
Lando deepens the kiss and you're pushed back into the door. Pinned between his body and the wall. He doesn’t break the kiss and his hands slide down your body, moving down to your hips. 
Lando starts kissing down your jaw and neck again. There is an ease about the way he moves now, he can take his time now that you're behind closed doors. 
He makes his way down your neck, leaving a trail of kisses behind him. The feeling is electric as his hands rest on your hips still, his touch is soft and tender as he moves his lips back up and kisses you again on the lips.
The feeling of your hands in Lando's hair makes him grin against you. Your kiss becomes more passionate as you pull his hair, and you can feel touch of his hands beneath your shirt. Fingers against your skin. Your mind is hazy from the kiss and the alcohol but you let the feeling wash over you. 
He tugs at the hem of your shirt and pulls it off of you. 
You break the kiss finally and breathe in the heat of the room. With your shirt removed his hands trail the bare skin of your back and sides, and his lips trace your neck.
The heat is so intense it makes your body feel like it has a mind of its own.
You lightly push him off, towards the edge of the bed, with a laugh. He laughs with you and goes along with your push, sitting down. You see that he has a smirk on his face, and as you look him over he leans back on his hands and continues to watch you. 
The air is tense with a build-up of tension, waiting for the next move.
You stand in front of him and grab both of his arms, lightly pulling them up above his head. Lando chuckles softly at the move, and with your help, he lifts his arms fully to keep them there. 
You pull the shirt off of Lando slowly, revealing his bare chest. You can see his muscles twitch slightly from your touch.
When the shirt is tossed, Lando’s hands rest on your hips again, bringing you closer and pulling you down on top of him. 
He's watching you with half-lidded eyes, a soft smile on his face, and his hands slide up your sides and your back. The feeling is intoxicating, you feel your breath coming quicker and quicker as Lando’s hands make their way up your body.
You kiss him again, hands grasping his shoulders. Your bodies are pressed together and the heat of the moment is too much to resist. You can feel Lando’s hands all over you, caressing your shoulders and neck, and playing with your hair.
He groans as you grind against him, and he lets one of his hands move to the small of your back to pull you closer to him. Lando wants more of you.
Then
Suddenly someone is trying the door handle and there's knocking. You and Lando quickly break away from the kiss. For crying out loud. 
“For fucksa-“ Lando starts but you slap your hand against his mouth. 
“Settle down,” you mouth at him. 
“Hey, are you in there?” You recognize your best friend's voice from the other side of the door. You can feel Lando smiling into your hand. He shakes his head and leans into your shoulder. 
You clear your throat, “Yeah I’m in here!” you answer. You hear Lando chuckle softly but he keeps quiet as he is pressed against your shoulder. 
“Are you alright?” your friend asks from the other side of the door, “I’ve been looking downstairs for yo-”
“Yeah I’m alright” You interrupt. 
“Okay, well….” you hear your friend hesitate for a moment, “...wait. Shut the fuck up.” You hear her familiar laugh. 
“Do you have Lando in there with you?” she asks, her voice sounding louder, she must be closer to the door now. 
This question makes Lando laugh out loud. You hit his chest. He was the one who was saying we had to be 'so quiet' and now he just confirmed his presence.
You can hear your best friend laugh as well on the other side of the door, and you know she won’t stop until she hears you answer the question. 
“Yes, I do," you admit, “Now go away!”
Your best friend laughs even harder outside. “Alright alright. Bye. Bye, Lando. I’ll try to keep your brother away too, you're welcome!” She finishes and you can hear her leave. 
“She knows?” he laughs against your ear, “I thought this whole thing was secret…”
“Shut up. Be happy it was her at the door and not you know who,” you joke. 
Lando grabs your hips and lifts you off of him. In a few swift motions he has you lying on the bed and he’s on top of you. He leans down and kisses up from your collarbone to just under your ear.
“If we get interrupted one more time…,” he trails off into your ear and then pulls away looking at you. His face right above yours. 
You shake your head smiling, you run your hands through his hair looking up at him. 
Lando smiles back at you. You can see the desire in his eyes. 
You can still feel his breath all over you from his kissing just moments earlier. Your skin is sensitive from the heat, from him, and you feel a wave of goosebumps run up your body just from his touch. 
Lando leans forward and the two of you kiss again.
The bass from downstairs vibrates through the floor and drowns out the music, the voices, the party. 
Your head is spinning. This is so wrong. But also it feels sort of right. Whatever was happening between the two of you was going to make your life chaotic. But even so, the same thought keeps running through your head…
Now I just can’t stop myself around you. 
836 notes · View notes
kinzis-writing · 6 months
Text
Better than Revenge | M.R [2]
Y/N vowed to herself that she would get her revenge on her ex-boyfriend. The only question was, how would she get her revenge? What better way than to involve his best friend. After all, the worst thing about betrayal is that it never comes from your enemies.
Pairing(s): Mattheo Riddle x Y/N Nettleby, Ex! Theodore Nott x Y/N Nettleby.
Warning(s): Mentions of cheating.
ii. “Wake up and smell the break up, fix my heart put on my makeup.”
Chapter One
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"Who could possibly be better than you?" Hermione questioned as Y/N and the friend group sat around the table at breakfast. News had gotten around that Theo had broken up with the Gryffindor and the Slytherins had now turned their backs on Y/N. It didn't bother her; she had only ever hung around with her brother and Theo's friends.
"Please, it has nothing to do with Y/N." Ginny stated before taking a drink of pumpkin juice. "Theodore's a git and we all know it." She finished with a simple shoulder shrug.
Y/N opened her mouth to reply but closed her mouth when her attention was caught by her ex-boyfriend entering the dining hall. A black-haired Slytherin girl hanging on his arm. The Gryffindor girl quirked an eyebrow up in disbelief as the two sauntered their way to the Slytherin table and towards his ex's brother.
Y/N glanced over at her brother, only to lock eye with Mattheo who was wearing an indecipherable emotion. "Hey," Hermione spoke softly to get the girls attention away from Theo and the Slytherin table. "Let's get out of here." she offered as she went to stand up.
Y/N shook her head as she grabbed her arm and yanked her back in her seat, "If we leave, it will attract eyes and he will think he hurt me." The Nettleby girl explained as she turned her gaze back to her food.
"But he did..." Ron trailed off confused before Ginny kicked him under the table.
"I'm not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that."
Y/N had left breakfast with Hermione, Harry and Ron. They went back to the dormitories so they could grab their books and bags for class. The fact that Y/N had rushed her last couple homework assignments made her realize how much she depended on Theo. No matter what, she shouldn't let what Theo did affect her daily life. Yet, it affected her everyday she woke up.
"You're going to be okay." Y/N mumbled to herself before she followed Hermione to the first class of the day. It was the class that she had with Theo and a few others of the friend group. Hermione had sat beside Neville Longbottom after the Nettleby girl had begged her to switch with Theo. "Remind me to never tell you to switch with my boyfriends." The girl told Hermione before they walked into the class.
"I tried to tell you." Hermione mumbled before taking her seat beside Neville. The two of them talking about what they will be learning today.
Y/N rolled her eyes and made her way to her normal seat. She was hoping that Theo and his friends would skip class, like they sometimes did. Theo had tried to get her to skip as well but she refused, saying she cared about her grades. Getting her books out, she decided to read what they would be learning today to get an idea of what they would be doing.
A loud thud broke the Gryffindor girl out of her reading with a jump. "Fancy seeing you here." Y/N groaned at the voice that she had known all too well.
"Mattheo, to what do I owe the pleasure?" She asked sarcastically with a slight glare before going back to her book. She was unsure as to why the heir of Slytherin was sitting right next to her, or why he was even in class anyway. "Shouldn't you be out on the lawn, smoking during class?"
Mattheo raised an eyebrow with an amused grin growing on his face. "Keeping tabs on me, darling?" He teased as he sat down beside the girl that he had known since their first year. "If you wanted me instead of Theo you could've just asked."
Y/N rolled her eyes before glancing up at the boy that she was previously used to. There was a time when Y/N and Mattheo were friends, no one knows how close they were. Something had happened, and Mattheo turned a cold shoulder with no warning.
"Can I help you with something?" She snapped not feeling like dealing with the Slytherins and their attitudes today. "I am not playing into your games today, Riddle."
Mattheo's gaze softened a bit noticing the look on her face, before he quickly wiped it off and returned to his normal emotional state. "What's your plan?" The boy asked as he leaned over to his best friend's ex.
"What are you talking about?" She asked as she quickly jotted down notes about what she had read. Only the parts that she felt was really important.
Mattheo rolled his eyes, seeing right through the girl that he knew. "How are you getting back at Theo?" He asked again as he leaned a bit closer.
Y/N scoffed and shook her head, "how old am I? five." She spoke trying to play off her real emotions. The Riddle boy gave her a look before she sighed, "I had a few ideas." she shrugged finally giving in. "I don't want him back, so making him jealous is pointless." She whispered only for the Slytherin to hear. "I'm just going to move on." shrugged.
Mattheo scoffed, "That's it?" He asked. "How will that do anything."
Y/N rolled her eyes before putting all her attention towards the boy in front of her. She didn't know how trustworthy he was now, but she knows that he kept their old friendship a secret. Hopefully he would keep this conversation a secret. "Enzo has a soft spot for me, so I was going to ask him to be part of it." She shrugged. "it'll hurt worse with his friend involved." she added.
The professor has walked in talking to the class and went over a part of the chapter before giving the paired-up students a project to work on. "Don't you think it would hurt worse with his best friend?" Mattheo spoke up quietly, trying to see the girl's reaction.
"What are you getting at?" Y/N asked even though she felt as if she already knew what he was going to say.
"Use me instead of Enzo." He suggested which caused Y/N to laugh and shake her head a bit. "At least we used to be close." he whispered, acting like he wasn't paying attention to her reaction.
"What's in it for you?" She asked trying to decipher why he cared so much. Mattheo didn't catch feelings for people, yes, she had heard about him having one-night stands and girls he toyed with.
"let's just say," Mattheo spoke softly as he continued looking at the project before glancing back up at her. "I have my reasons." he finished.
🪄
"Absolutely not, are you out of your mind?" Hermione scolded as the golden trio, Y/N, and Ginny sat around the fireplace in the Gryffindor common room. Y/N had just told them her plan and the conversation that she had with Mattheo during class. She knew it was a reach including them in on what she wanted to do, strictly because Mattheo's family. "This is worse than Theodore!" She insisted.
Y/N rolled her eyes slightly knowing that her friends would be against it. "You're forgetting the family that I come from." The girl muttered as she kept her gaze on the orange and yellows hues of the fire.
Hermione looked at the group around her, trying to get someone and anyone to agree with her. To Gryffindor's and the other houses, Mattheo Riddle was intimidating and charming. He came off as rude, cocky, and self-absorbed. Yet, Y/N knew that it wasn't who he was, or at least who he used to be.
"Do you honestly think Riddle is capable of helping you without something in return?" Ginny asked carefully as she glanced around the group.
Ron scoffed at his sister, "of course not. you know where he came from." the Weasley boy spoke in disgust.
Y/N sighed at that and ran a hand down her face. She knew all too well what people thought if they go by family trees. "And you guys know where I came from." she countered.
"That's different." Harry finally spoke up, thinking about the situation at hand. "The sorting hat knew what was right, so it's clear that you aren't like them."
"Says the one that was writing to Mattheo's dad, in his dad's journal with no thought about who he was." Y/N shot back. Tired of her friends being rude to someone they did not truly know. She didn't even know why she was defending him. She hadn't even properly talked to him since she had gotten with Theo, he had just passed a few snarky comments to her and went on his way.
The friends went quiet for a few minutes so they could try and sort out their feelings so nothing would be said. The last thing they wanted to do was to break up the friend group and all be fighting.
Y/N sighed, breaking the silence. "I'm sorry for being so worked up. I just know how my family is going to be once word reaches that Theodore and I broke up." She mumbled.
Coming from a family of Slytherins and death eaters, it was clear that his followers would do anything to get him back. Along with raise their kids to do dirty work and be one of them as well. Y/N was hoping that dating a Slytherin, especially from the Nott family, that her parents would get off her back about being a disappointment.
Hermione gave a small smile to her best friend, "I'm sorry." She apologized too. "It's none of my business what you do. I just don't want everything to fall apart."
"I can handle my own." Y/N promised as the group resumed back to their previous antics before the talk about the plan came about.
Early the next morning Y/N had gotten herself ready for the day. Many of the witches and wizards were going to Hogsmeade today, so she had decided to spend the day alone. She always went to Hogsmeade on weekends to spend time with her friends, but lately it had been almost like a third wheel, well, fifth wheel. So, when the time came, she had promised her friends that she did not want to go, and she had bid them goodbye after assuring them to have fun.
She had lounged around the common room, until she had gotten bored of doing the same things and decided to wander a bit. It was always a breath of fresh air when taking a walk around the castle and with most people gone, it could be quite relaxing. When walking about looking at the scenery, everything looked so peaceful and beautiful.
"We're going to get caught." a familiar voice had caught the attention of the Gryffindor girl. Her walking has slow and she came to a halt at the corner, carefully peaking her head around to see who was talking.
"Oh, please, since when do you care?" A nasally voice asked before going back to whatever she was trying to do. "You didn't complain when you cheated on your girlfriend with me in a classroom."
The man, who Y/N had now identified as Theo, scoffed. "A classroom is a bit more private than the hallways." He muttered.
Before Y/N could hear what, his new girlfriend was saying back, a voice caused the girl to jump. "Eavesdropping, love?" The voice of the Slytherin came out smooth. "Didn't anyone ever tell you how rude that is?"
Y/N rolled her eyes turning the face the curly haired boy. She had been wanting to find him since last night but had debated against it. "I simply came across them on my walk." she spoke truthfully as she turned to fully face Mattheo.
Mattheo's eyebrows shot up, "that's a bloody lie." he muttered loud enough for the girl to hear. She scoffed before rolling her eyes and leaning against the wall. "It won't last." Y/N's eyebrows furrowed at what he was talking about. "If Theo couldn't keep a relationship with you, he won't keep one."
"What do you mean by that?" Y/N asked as she eyed the boy in front of her curiously. Maybe Theo had not told the boys why they broke up because she was sure that they would make fun on her for it.
Mattheo shrugged keeping his lips in a tight line and scooting a bit closer to Y/N. "They're coming." he muttered. "Did you make up your mind?" He asked referring to what they had talked about in class.
"You." Was the only statement she could get out before he quickly placed a hand on her cheek as his best friend turned the corner.
Y/N and Mattheo's eyes quickly shot up to Theo's and the Slytherin girl that he had cheated with. Mattheo had faux annoyance, while Y/N looked nervous. Theo looked angry and his new toy had a surprised look on her face.
"Can I assist you with something?" Mattheo asked as the couple just stood there, not saying a word to the two. "I was busy, if you couldn't tell."
"When did this happen?" The Slytherin girl asked as if she knew exactly who both of the boys were and what they would or wouldn't do. "It's hard to believe that you would go for a Gryffindor." she added.
Mattheo rolled his eyes and took his hand off Y/N's cheek. He stayed close to her so he could ensure to play whatever part. "Just testing the waters." he shrugged before glancing at Theo and noticing his jaw clenched, a smirk grew noticing that.
"Y/N, can I have a word?" Theo asked as his gaze stayed locked in a war with Mattheo.
Y/N glanced between the two boys as she leaned forward and grabbed Mattheo's arm. To calm him down and also to say that she wasn't leaving without him. "I don't think that necessary." she replied back her hand moving down to Mattheo's. "We'll just get out of your way."
Without another glance she turned away from the couple and tugged Mattheo along with her. She didn't want to be around Theo or his toy.
Y/N let out a huff once they had lost sight of her ex-boyfriend, "Why does he have to be such an arse?" she mumbled with an eye roll. It was clear that Mattheo was watching her, maybe to see her reaction or to see if she had anything else to say. After getting her emotions under control she looked up and met her gaze with the boy in front of her, his warm eyes looking back in hers. "What are we doing? No one is going to believe that we started dating." she explained.
Mattheo thought for a moment, "Then we start spending time together, to make it known that we are around each other." He spoke trying to think of an idea that will make it seem real. "I'll meet you outside your common room every morning, we'll have meals together."
Y/N snorted at that before realizing that the boy in front of her was serious. "There is no way I am having breakfast or dinner at the Slytherin table." She refused.
"Do you want to make this believable or not?" Mattheo asked Y/N, trying to get her to see the reason behind then spending meals together.
She nodded, "fine. How about classes? I see that you replaced Theo as my partner in my classes. You guys barely come to class anyway." She explained as she had noticed how Theo had moved over to sit with someone else in class. "That's not even a concern right now though, how are we going to pull off dating? I mean, couples..." Y/N trailed off hoping that he was getting what she meant.
Couples showed plenty of public displays of affection. Especially when they have the biggest "bad boy" and "heartthrob" hanging on their arm. So, it was a given for the two. "Whatever you're comfortable with, love." he shrugged.
Y/N thought for a moment, her cheeks slightly turning red at the thought. Gaining a bit of confidence she spoke, "Everything." She told him. "Whatever you want."
Part three
837 notes · View notes
imbored1201 · 5 months
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Hi. I like your writings. Can I request a Mama Alexia Putellas x Teen! Reader? Where the reader escapes with her girlfriend to a party. Alexia will be very angry. And they will have a big talk. And the next day a painful conversation awaits the reader ( reader is hangover )
Drunken Mess
Alexia Putellas x platonic teen reader
A/N: Motherly Alexia is my most fav thing to write
Warnings: Throwing up, mentions of drug test
Word Count: 1,541
It was 2 a.m., and Alexia was awake; she was tired, pissed, and worried. She had searched for you everywhere on the street for an hour when she noticed you weren't there. 
When she woke up, she had an odd feeling in her stomach. She checked around the house to make sure there was no one there, then went to your room to check on you. To say she was surprised when she saw you weren't there wouldn't be true. 
You were always sneaky and a huge troublemaker, always getting into altercations on the pitch, and sometimes she got calls from your teachers about you not keeping up with your work.
————
You, on the other hand, were having the time of your life. It wasn't the first time you snuck out. Your girlfriend always waited for you outside in her car. She knew a lot of people at school and always got invited to parties.
Something you didn't considering you did online classes. You've never drank or smoked like the other kids. Even your girlfriend never drank or smoked since she was the one that had to get you back home in one piece. She was terrified of Alexia.
When she saw you drinking, she was shocked, even going around telling off people who she thought pressured you to do it. 
She kept an eye on you and did tell you to cool it with the drinks; you, of course, did not listen to her. Continuing to drink more.
"Okay, that's enough," your girlfriend said as she took the drink from you and dragged you out of the party. "Inside," she said, opening the passenger door for you. 
Your arms were crossed, you were mad that she dragged you out of the party. "Let me see your phone." You gave it to her, and she opened it. "What are you doing?" You questioned, "Calling Alexia" "No!" You yelled, snatching it back. 
"Call her," your girlfriend said sternly, you shook your head. "She'll kill me." "I need someone to make sure you choke on your vomit tonight." You stubbornly shook your head and glared at her. 
"No," you said again, making her groan and park at a gas station. "Stay here; I'm going to get you a water" "Yes ma'am," you saluted, and leaned your head against the windows. 
————
"Come on you drunk," your girlfriend had to drag you out of the car. You didn't want to go through the front door; you knew you would most likely get caught. With the help of your girlfriend, you always climbed back through your open window. 
She thought that was too dangerous with the state you were in. "You have to come clean to her." You shook your head and tried pushing her away to run off. She tightened her grip. "HELP!" You yelled now. 
She panicked and quickly put her hand over your mouth. "Now I want you to get caught by Alexia," she muttered. You rolled your eyes and gave up. 
————
"Shit," you cursed as your girlfriend helped you inside the place. Alexia was sitting on a recliner that was in the corner of the room.
Her eyebrows raised as she looked at your girlfriend. Your girlfriend quickly set you down on the couch and looked at Alexia. 
"I—she's drunk; I just came to drop her off." Alexia nodded and looked at you. "Thank you," she told your girlfriend, who just gave you a kiss on the cheek and practically ran out of the apartment. You didn't understand why she was so scared of Alexia.
You were laid out on the couch. "Aw, she left," you mumbled, turning to get more comfortable. Alexia wanted to yell at you, but she knew you wouldn't even remember it. She just walked up to you and made you sit up. She had a disappointed look on her face. 
"Alexia I didn't mean to." Your words were slurred, and Alexia could smell the alcohol. She was ready to just ditch you at Ingrid's and Mapi's.
"I can't fucking believe this; this is why I don't want kids; I already have to deal with a big one who doesn't think." Alexia ranted to herself, holding her head as she went to the kitchen to get you water. "I'm not yours!" You yelled, earning you a slipper thrown at your head. You grabbed it and giggled. 
"Drink," she simply said, snatching back her slipper and handing you the drink. "You're angry," you mumbled. Alexia looked at you like you were an idiot. "I wonder why," she sarcastically said. 
Once you finished your drink, you looked at her and smiled. "I missed you," you said cutely, hugging her. Alexia hugged you back and helped you up. "You're sleeping with me tonight."
"Sleepover!" You cheered and went to the kitchen to get snacks. "No. Your going straight to sleep, no sleepover activities, and no snacks," you huffed and glared at her. "Your no fun." When you tried walking back to her, you tripped. On nothing.
"Oops," you said as you knocked down her mug that was filled with coffee. Alexia didn't even know what to do anymore. She was in between making you sleep on the couch, sending you to someone else's, and even calling your girlfriend to come back to take you again. 
"Bed, and brush your teeth," she sternly said, dragging you out of the kitchen. You were quick to comply, and bolted to her room. You were able to successfully brush your teeth, and once your head hit those pillows, you were out. 
————
Once Alexia finished cleaning and ranting to Ingrid and Mapi, she went to bed. She let out a sigh of relief when she saw you were already asleep. 
Ingrid advised she'd let you settle a little bit first when you woke up before Alexia let you have it; after all, it was going to be your first hangover, that's what she was assuming at least. 
————
When you woke up, you felt nauseous. You groaned and moved around to get more comfortable. "Alexia," you called out, and sighed in frustration when she didn't listen. 
"Alexia," you whined again, rubbing your eyes as you got up and went to find her, trying to distract yourself from the feeling of throwing up. You found her sitting at the table. "Alexia, my head really hurts," her eyes narrowed. "I wonder why," and then there was a silent awkwardness as she got you food. 
"Eat," she told you, breaking the silence. "I can't," you said in a whisper. You were waiting for the scolding, and the fact she hadn't started yet was scaring you more. 
"Eat; you'll feel better. Then I'll give you medicine for the hangover." You nodded, taking a bite of your pancakes. You ate slowly and tried to ignore her stare. You sighed, feeling uncomfortable. "I'm sorry," you told her, and she just stared blankly at you. 
"You know, you always get mad at me for treating you like a child, then you pull stunts like this." You simply nodded, not wanting to piss Alexia off more. "And I can tell it wasn't the first time you snuck out, and I know it isn't going to be your last." Alexia sighed and shook her head. 
"I talked to Jonatan; you're going to do a drug test, and you're not playing these two upcoming games" "Bu-" she glared at you.
"Do not speak. You're getting off easy here. You know how much legal trouble you can be in over this. You're 16, you've made it so far already, and you're just going to throw it all away if you keep this up."
You didn't say anything. Just stared at your food in shame. You betrayed Alexia's trust, all because you couldn't control yourself. 
"I swear I've never done drugs; yesterday was my first time drinking. I'm sorry, Ale." Alexia didn’t say anything; she just stood up to get you medicine. 
————
You talked to your girlfriend, who also gave you a scolding. It's official to say that you two probably won't be going to parties for a long time. Your stomach was starting to hurt more, and your headache got worse. 
You know you messed up, but you definitely learned your lesson now that you were on the floor with your head in the toilet as you threw up. Alexia was trying to help by holding back your hair.
You cried as she helped you up and helped you clean up. "I'm sorry," she shushed you as she hugged you tightly. "I know, Bebita, I know."
The rest of the day consisted of you curled up in her arms, occasionally crying because of your upset stomach while she tried to soothe you. Alexia knew she had to be strict with you, but she couldn't handle seeing you in pain. Plus, she knew Marta, Irene, and Lucy would probably yell at you way worse. 
————
Thankfully for her, the drug test came out negative. She was still on your ass more than ever now, always checking on you at random points at night. Your poor girlfriend got a bad rep and practically got banned from the apartment, but Alexia eventually got over it and let her come around again.
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undercoverpena · 2 months
Text
1. tie the knot
javier peña x f!reader* | chapter one of let us pretend
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summary: peña has been back in Texas for all of five minutes, thinking he wants a simple life. but, when steve offers him the chance to gather information on a potential new player, he jumps at the chance. the only problem is, to do so, he'll need to go undercover with a female agent—and pretend to be her husband.
wordcount: 4.6k chapter themes: fake dating/relationship/marriage, forced proximity / sharing one bed, colleagues to lovers, no use of Y/N, *female agent has a nickname (sunny) for use undercover. an: this week i am full of surprises. welcome to the world of let us pretend. this chapter might not feel different from htcu, but it is.
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All he has to do is pretend. Put on an act.
It’s simple on paper. Easy. A thing he’s already a master in, something he has never found particularly difficult or hard: pretending.
Javi, after all, had had always been pretty good at concealing, at masking—
“Y’need to pretend to be married.”
Faking being a husband was a new one.
Having lived with far too many emotions for so long, it’s not hard for him to fake nonchalance.
Colombia had been his school. The place where he collected his degree—days of pretending he was okay. Hiding the fact he couldn’t sleep the horrors away, that he wasn’t falling apart at the seams. That stress wasn’t making him chain smoke and the pressure wasn’t making him sink his cock into women he couldn’t save.
He picked up his doctorate when he returned home. When ranch life had felt so fucking dull it made him want to pick the smoking habit back up, just for something to do. When he saw boats that made his insides twist, but found he had to wear a smile. Hiding, as expertly as he could, so he didn’t bristle each time someone called him a hero—when all he wanted was a drink, a fuck or a newspaper.
Mostly, Javi had become a master in squirrelling away the fact he saw every minute of the hours at night, feeling nothing short of relief when his alarm chimed so he could get out of his homemade prison.
Bluffing had always been a skill of his. But, this, this was new to him. His bluffing had never required him to wear something shiny on his left hand and—
“And, Jav. Try not to fuck her.”
He’s not surprised that Steve heads up a department in Miami—or that he’s happy and content.
From the moment the two of them reunited, he took in the glow on his old partner’s skin (the one he strongly suspects isn’t just from the sun) and listened as he heard short (in Murphy’s opinion) stories about his daughter growing older.
Javi couldn’t relate—not that he’ll admit it. Just another thing he disguises. Smothers his face in what he assumes is what happiness looks like, wears it like an accessory, something akin to wearing a jacket, rather than actually feeling it.
Picking up a ring, rotating it between his thumb and finger, he snorts. “Wouldn’t be very husband-like of me, if I didn’t, would it?”
He’s nudged. An intentional elbow to the side sparks a grin as he places the ring back into its velvety spot.
Because none of them look right. None seem right—even for a fake thing.
“Fake husband. And don’t fuck this up.”
“I’m hearing a lot of don’ts and not a lot of do’s, Murphy. What the fuck is it you want me to do?”
He’s already been told, informed. Briefed.
Tricked in fact. Requested down here for an opinion, but when his worn-in soles landed in the office of his former colleague, it unravelled into something so much more.
Handed a file—one he knows everyone expects he won’t read—and given a rundown of what the operation is supposed to look like. But Javi knows better. Had known it too. Even suspects, Murphy does too.
One thing Colombia has taught him is that plans don’t mean shit, not when you’re up against an ever-evolving problem.
You don't just want me here for a consult, do you, Murph? Was hopin’ you were bored in Texas.
He suspects that’s why his Pop had given him an arched brow, an expression that was accompanied by pinched lips when he’d first mentioned it. Even his assurance that it’ll be a few days—just helping Steve out was met with a look Javi hadn’t banked on. Realising as he stood admiring wedding rings that his Pop had figured it out long before him.
At least now he understands why he got the Chucho-treatment—not quite quiet, but not quite the same treatment from him that he did the day before.
Instead, that kind of treatment that pierced itself into him, attempted to bury itself inside of him and made guilt flood through him like a poison.
Even if once before he would struggle with it, found himself desperate to apologise—make it up to his Pops—he didn’t this time. Because Javi already struggled. Already grown tired of itching for something.
So, he said nothing. Because he knows Murphy wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t need him.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Murphy closes his eyes. The same noticeable twitch in his fingers and chewing inside his cheek that Javier can relate to: the sign of a recent quitter, and one attempting to use gum as a replacement.
Needing too.
“Where is she, anyway?” he asks, shifting the conversation, suppressing a yawn.
Before he’d even got on the plane out here, he’d been tired. Already beginning to fray at the edges, sleep had already become an even more distant friend.
All of it had been made worse by the worried look on Pop’s face when he dropped him at departures. It thickened, slathered itself on his shoulders even more so when he calls him from Murphy’s office to tell him it’ll be three months.
“You managed longer than I thought, Javi.” “Pop…”
Even though he had known it wouldn't matter, he had still tried to explain it all over again. From the top. All softly, with patience—the phone receiver leaving an indent on his cheek as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Reminding his Pop that this time he was doing his friend a favour, that it was a one-time thing—a few months, at most.
It didn’t shift the tone—didn’t stop Javi from imagining the disappointed lines bleeding into worried ones, mixing with the ones caused by age. It didn't lessen the tightness over the phone, simmering in the miles of air, because they were both at a standstill in the centre of a formerly (albeit temporary) happy situation.
Sighing, Murphy drops his hand, pulling him back from his thoughts. “She’ll be here, alright.”
Javi snorts, swallowing.
Glancing back over another table, seeing other things, other accessories. Things that’ll help him blend, help the two of you blend. You and him, him and you—a person he knows the name of and nothing else.
Steve had shared that you were good, brilliant, the only one he’d trust. That you knew the work so far better than anyone.
He’d been about to begin unpicking those earlier statements when the door opened, blouse and black tailored trousers walking towards him.
It isn’t anything cliché.
Time doesn’t stop, the room doesn't silence, but something happens. Something shifts, changes—alters. Because instantly, Javi realises you’re pretty. A thought which confuses him, especially when it dawns on him that usually, it’s a woman's figure he notices and admires first, but he finds that it's your eyes that he lingers on.
And fuck do they cut into him.
Practically reach inside of him, before they go through him, digging into flesh and fucking bone.
Then, all at once, ceasefire. A chance to strengthen his façade as you turn to greet Murphy, a handshake, a sea of pleasantries. Enough chance to shove it down, whatever attempted to rise in him.
But, he swears he can still see them behind his lids. Something which makes his jaw tighten, teeth grind—
“You must be my husband,” you say, smirk sliding up into your cheek.
Your body suddenly turns to him, hand sticking out towards him, adding your name to the statement as though stamping it into the air and his body goes clammy, grows warm and makes him suddenly desperate for water, coffee or even whiskey.
Slipping his hand into yours, he’s not surprised to find that it’s soft, the right kind of warm. He’d suspected about as much from just appearances alone.
“Agent Murphy has told me a lot about you, Mr Peña.”
Running his tongue over the front of his teeth, he eyes you. “Think my wife should call me, Javi.”
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Javi learns, rather quickly, that you have a nice voice.
It doesn’t grate, doesn’t annoy him—it’s informative, but there’s something else there, a playful edge, a little thing within you that hasn’t been crushed.
He remembers when he’d been as sprightly.
Rubs his forehead with the heel of his palm as he does, fingers desperate to clutch a pen, his jaw tightening as he thinks about how he could roll it in his fingers, hold it like he used to hold a smoke.
Fuck, he wishes he could chew his gum.
A thing which is slowly making him more tense.
Not that you seem to notice, too focused on getting him up to speed on the actual investigation. He’d read much of your notes before today, it was the next part he was more on edge by.
Because, whatever his earlier opinion of you was, he was getting the distinct impression you’d rather set your skin on fire than be fake married. A thing you stop trying to hide, your face displaying your disgust at it each time it is casually mentioned.
It was mandatory—Murphy’s words—for the two of you to get to know one another. A crash course, a 101 in the other. It’s told to you, that the two of you are going to be stationed in your new home for the next few weeks, starting from today. But, because they’re merciful—
“Wanted to make sure you had time to get to know one another. So, take the day—work can begin another day.”
“How nice of you, Murph,” he responds, words dipped in sarcasm. Briefly catching sight of you smirking as you study something on the table.
Javi had already imagined that—since it was recon, and more surveillance than anything else—for the most part, everything could remain the same. He learnt he was right moments later when it was confirmed his name would remain very much his own, and you were handed his surname like a gift you’d rather burn than accept.
It was you who had to surrender more.
“Y’need a new first name.”
If you were surprised, you didn’t show it. A sea of reasons given, the main one being if anyone asked around with a photo and your name, it would be easier to put two and two together. You lived here, for one.
You keep your eyes down, glancing over the table of possessions you’re allowed to borrow, to play dress up with. Fingers brushing over a watch (silver, a white face)—something haunting in your eye you’re quick to blink away when you meet Murphy’s stare.
Folding his arms, Steve sighs. “Jus’ something you’ll answer to. That can be used in public.”
Javi watches you smirk, something secretive, a hidden joke simmering between the two of you—leaving him very much out in the cold of it.
After a beat, you lick your lips.
“Sunny,” you reply, lifting your eyes, digging each syllable of the name you’re going to use into him.
“Let me guess you’re someone’s ray of sunshine?”
He doesn’t mean for it to fall out laced in bitterness, but it does all the same. His mouth tilted into a smirk, your eyes hardening as you placed down a pair of earrings you’d picked up.
“Think it’s more because of my sunny disposition.” He snorts, watching you move around the table. “It’s a family nickname—I’ve… I’ve always been called it, so, I’ll answer to it.”
Swallowing, Javi lets his eyes wander to the wall of the room.
“Alright, you two. You need to sell it, y’hear me?”
“Then we need money.” It’s short, stern, the way you deliver it, head tilted and face unreadable. “We’ll be sniffed out immediately without it. These people deal in money, not handsome faces.”
"So, you think I'm handsome?"
The roll of your eyes doesn't dispute it, not as you direct your attention back to Murphy.
Who, until now, Javi hadn't realised (with his hands on his hips) how big boss Murphy looked as he whispered fine, or how much it rather annoyed him. How it would be quite easy to give him a shove. More so when he’s handed a new phone, a set of documents, credit cards and given more instructions he wishes he could shove down his throat.
He almost gets close enough to do both when briefing ends and he’s handed the keys to the hotel suite they’d be living in—their story simple, easy:
“We have a fake house for you both being made ready as a cover story, but for now you’re both in the hotel. Prime location. Beach views, and very much in reach to the top places the targets visit.”
And, Murphy hadn’t been lying.
It did have good views, the suite was even nice—really nice.
Almost too nice for a little surveillance, a little fake marriage and a drug bust. But, he didn’t complain, barely said a thing in the ride over, or when you wheeled your own case. He even remained silent when you refused to look at him in the elevator or on the walk to the room, and even when the two of you entered.
In fact, the first words he said were: “You gotta try and look at me like you don’t wanna peel my skin off. You know, if you want this to work.”
He expects it; braces for it, the tongue lashing, an icy stare. Picturing you as the kind of woman who is already to sharpen your tools and pierce him with them when he blinks. But, you don’t.
If anything, Javi watches in slow motion as your shoulders sink, your cogs turning before your expression softens.
“You’re right—I’m… sorry.”
Biting the inside of his cheek, he nods. “There’s one bed.”
“Well. We can sleep in the same bed, Peña. We’re adults. However, for your sake, I’m going to put a pillow between us.” Your eyes sweep over him, cold, drowning him in a chill. “Two actually.”
“You a cuddler, or something?”
Smiling, you sigh. “No. The pillow is so that if you roll over all sleepy and desperate for some affection, I won’t have to cut you. Because if you touch me, that is what will happen.”
“How are we meant to sell we’re in love if I can’t touch you?”
“Oh, out there, you can touch me. In here, no.”
His snort rumbles from his chest. Tugged up, wrenched from some cobweb-filled depth, as you smile. Nothing big, nothing life-changing, but a start—the beginning of a level-playing field.
“What kind of touching, cariño?”
Jaw tightening, you smirk—but it’s cold.
He suspects you’re used to charm. Easily able to disable it, switch it off, unfazed by his gaze or the edge of his words. If anything, you seem really fucking bored of it—something he’s not sure if he admires or despises.
“Nothing like you used to pay for, Peña.”
Before he’s even recovered, he learns that you take things seriously.
Your bag opens, pulling out a notebook—upside down cursive etched over a page, your eyes scanning over it, before you ask if he’s ready. He’s barely able to ask for what, when you begin firing things at him.
Favourite food. Comfort film. Where did we meet? What song do you sing in the car when I’m not around? Are you allergic to anything?
The list goes on, and on. The more things continue to run out of your mouth, the more he begins to admire you—to settle into some comfort that you want to do this properly. That you’re going to take it seriously too, something he wants.
Needing it to matter.
Needing to have something work out easily, not have it all end for nothing.
The only time you pause is for a dinner—room service, his treat and his choice. A way of providing proof that he’d been listening, paying attention—somehow wanting to prove something to you, even if he’d known you for only half a day.
“So, how did Murphy get you on this?”
He studies the way you cross your leg over the other, the base of your heel tapping against the carpet—all very much guarded, on edge.
“You can tell it’s my first, can’t you?”
Javi smiles, making it softer purposefully. “A little.”
“He said you were good,” you sigh, placing your napkin down. “I assume I was chosen because it was easy. Y’know, than someone with… higher priorities. Plus, I already know the case. Guess it just made sense to send me.”
Nodding, he watches as you avoid his sight, focusing instead on the swirls in the carpet. Something ticking in your pretty little head, it forcing your nostrils to flare, for your jaw to tighten—and he’s watching it happen, practically feeling the air around you begin to vibrate from it all.
“M’not gonna let anything happen to you, Sunny. You know that right?”
That does it. Further digs in the hatred you’re feeling tenfold because the use of your new name makes you flinch. And he knows, like he had suspected earlier that it means more than just a name. Especially from the look on your face.
At first, your expression is soft, almost mask-less—no walls, no defence. Then, like magic, it shifts. It drapes down, rebuilds, and suddenly there within seconds, the same expression he’s been working with since introduction.
“I have heard how you take care of the women who work with you.”
Picking up your drink, and stirring the straw, you let your eyes meet his. The small wooden table suddenly even smaller—the large suite, suddenly constricting in a way he hadn’t expected so far.
“S’not what I meant.”
“I know.” It’s curt, your reply. Clearing your throat, you snort, “You are handsome. I can see why you did so well. And, I might not need to say this, but I need you to know I like my job, and I don’t require that kind of care.”
Rubbing his jaw, he sighs. “That so?”
“I have something that can help with that. It doesn’t talk. It doesn’t need to remind it that it’s ‘so big’, and it doesn’t need me to call it baby. It just hums—politely—and makes my thighs shake. I just need you to be with me in this.”
He snorts, draining the rest of his glass. The ice clangs just before he places it back down on the table. “You bring it with you, your something?”
Licking your lips, your mouth slides into your cheek. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
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Steve had told you his credentials—how he worked, how smart he was. How easily he was able to decipher a read on someone.
He did also mention much of Peña’s backstory—including his rich history with the opposite sex. A thing you hadn’t wanted to let escape out coated in catty and wrapped in bitchy. And yet, it had all the same.
You did want to get on with him, you admired him after all. Hearing the truths from Steve made the things that swirled like gossip even more impressive.
But, in all of the briefings you’ve had before agreeing to this, your boss had failed to mention that it wasn’t just the man’s tongue that got women to confess all their secrets, but his ridiculously handsome face too.
The one that keeps turning towards you—eyes concentrated in on you as though you’re the most interesting thing he’s ever had the chance to listen to.
But, it wasn’t just that. It’s that he’s quick-witted, observant, and it most definitely doesn’t help that he’s all broad shoulders and brown eyed. That, in part, you thought you could handle.
Then, he’d flirted.
On any other day, in any other place, you’re sure you’d have melted. Likely leant forward, elbow on your knee, tracing your bottom lip with your finger just to make his eyes drop to your mouth.
But, this isn’t any other day—it’s work, a job, one that requires him (in part) to be a flirt.
Clearing your throat, you smear on a smile. “You not tried to date since you’ve been home?”
His face hardens, just slightly.
It pinching, eyes more so than anywhere else—his smile falling, descending to a thin line as he traces his teeth with his tongue. Then, his eyes shift into an entirely different brown, an explosion of shades swirling—flecks of gold and sadness-infused umber.
“No.”
Nodding, you pick at some salad on the side of your plate. “Probably a good job—don’t need any angry people coming for me when I’m curled up on your arm.”
He snorts, but it doesn’t flutter over his face. His hand remains balled up, resting on the arm of the chair—something more there, prodding, needling him. He may be so easily able to read you, but you’re sure he’s about as clear as a warm day himself.
Landing his gaze back on you, you feel it linger, hover—before it begins to slip down from your eyes, landing somewhere at your neck, before the buttons off your shirt. Something warming inside of you, flooding out, spreading across your skin as you try your damnest to level your breathing.
“Got any more questions?”
“Plenty,” you reply, almost catching the y on your teeth before placing a light smirk out over your lips, letting it move across your face.
Gesturing, Peña licks his lips and so you begin with more. Not needing the book now, just working your way through the things which populate, which appear like bubbles he bursts with his answers.
He’s open about some things more than others. The two of you covering family quickly, childhoods even quicker. You both discreetly avoid too many details of Colombia, about the things you’d already heard in chunks from your superior.
Your 101 beginner class in your new husband proving to be easier to understand than your field handbook—although, you supposed the intermediate and expert levels to him would be far harder to crack.
He’s unmarried, not dating—there’s his dad, a sea of distant family and a town full of people whom his father would class as family. You suspect some guilt there, it layered between the conversation on his dad, and the one which followed when you’d asked if the ranch would be okay without him.
“—My Pops has had help for a long time. One of them has been promoted. He… He works there full time now.”
Even if he had tried to say it simply, it was laced in bitterness—not from jealousy, you suspect from the sadness that had poisoned over time. A well stuffed with things which had rotted and gone mouldy over time.
Upon sight of him this morning, you had known you’d need to be clever, smart—find ways to compartmentalise it all. Because, when he traces his nose with his finger, when his eyes widen a little more than normal—coffee-brown all but drowning you—you had known it would be hard otherwise.
Something there, niggling, piercing through.
“Any lovers I need to be aware of?”
Smiling, you slide your feet from your heels, pulling your legs up more, swallowing. “No, you’re good.”
“Any potential risks I need to be aware of—anyone who’ll call into question your new name?”
Your stomach knots, uncomfortably so. A thing balling inside of you, that same fear you’d been plucking at for days—ever since Steve had suggested your name, thrown it out on the conference table with a bunch of greedy eyes seated around it.
“No, I… you have nothing to worry about.”
He looks at you, lets it hover, hold. Something there, trying to disguise itself in the way he narrows his eyes a fraction, in the way his lips pinch together—the way his brain seems to whir like a fan that can be heard even across the table.
When you yawn, he makes a move to tidy up the plates for the tray—batting your hand away. “I’ve got it, cariño.”
“Cariño?”
Your cheeks are warm, more so under his stare. Easily able to smother it the first time, but found it difficult the second. It’s all wide, blooming—it tracing your eyes before it sweeps back to the tray.
“Gotta call my wife something original, special.”
“I’m hardly special, Peña.”
“If I’ve married you, you’re special.”
Clamping your mouth shut, you say nothing.
Something churning, a horribleness that you know stems from the fact this isn’t real. None of it. The niceness, the ring on your finger—the one your finger slides up your palm to brush over, to trace.
The one which didn’t have a home there this morning, but now sits like it’s always supposed to. Your stare on his back as he goes to the door, pushing the metal tray, the jingling of plates and glass sounding out as your heartbeat pounds in your ears, your cheeks burn in embarrassment.
It continues to hammer when your back flattened against the bathroom door—safe amongst marble, mirrors and an array of complimentary products which covered most of the sink.
Only as you begin to undress and change for bed, does it lessen, does your composure return back to you. The mask which you so delicately applied, the one which had taken more words of encouragement in your bathroom mirror this morning than you’d thought.
Because, it isn’t that you thought you couldn’t do this—but rather why would you?
This isn’t your expertise. Not your usual field of knowledge. The last time you’d even been on a date had been at least over a year ago, and the last time you’d lived with a man had been so long ago you were worried you’d wake tomorrow and learn you have habits you weren’t aware of.
Did you kick in your sleep?
Did you grind your teeth?
“Cariño?” Peña calls out, knuckles tapping on the door. “You good in there?”
No, you want to reply. Hands gripping the sink basin, staring at your makeup-less face and the nightie he was about to see you in.
“Yeah,” you call out, washing your hands, and flushing the toilet before unlocking the door, and emerging.
He’s polite enough to not drink you in, even if you're sure he’s craning his neck not to do so.
“Look. Before you crack your neck from not doing so.”
Smirking, he traces his fingers across his chin, before slowly dropping his eyes.
And you feel them.
Warm. Hot. Sliding over your neck, collarbone, down the silk which covers your chest, abdomen and most of your thighs, before he’s running his vision back up.
“Better?”
“Nice legs.”
Narrowing your eyes, you straighten your spine. “Try not to dream about them, and Peña?”
He hums.
“Try to remember you’re not actually married, don’t want you falling for the fantasy we’re putting on. Hate to break your heart.”
Leaning against the doorframe, staring at you, you somehow manage to level your breath. “If it’s you breaking my heart, Sunny. I might just let you.”
Your mouth almost falls open. Almost.
Something you think he's aware of from the way he smiles, from the way he drinks you in before he whispers about getting passed.
Then, you're alone.
Filling your lungs with a breath, staring around the room not sure how you're going to make it a week not cracking, never mind more.
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CHAPTER TWO ->
AN: thank you for letting me tell the story how i always envisioned. your kindness is appreciated.
443 notes · View notes
sapphic-gardn · 9 months
Text
Dancing With The Devil
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dbf!joel miller x f!reader
Summary: Your dad’s best friend, Joel Miller runs into you at a bar on the night of Halloween. He’s a gentleman and takes you home.
Warnings (18+ mdni): age gap (not specified), drinking/alcohol, intoxication, swearing, pet names (darlin’, sweetheart, angel, baby, babygirl, etc.), f!masturbation, oral f!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, unprotected p in v (pls dont do this irl), creampie, dirty talk, joel calls reader a slut literally just once, if im forgetting anything pls let me know!!
Word count: 4.9k
a/n: Hi!!! I’ve been working on this one shot for awhile—I really hope it is everything and more for you guys! I am posting this in place of Willow pt. 3 due to a bit of writer’s block but trust it will be posted soon!! As always, please let me know what you think. I love you so much.
Also thank you to @gracieheartspedro for helping and encouraging me on this one. I can’t even begin to thank you enough, my love.
Halloween is your favorite holiday. For one night out of the year, you get to be anything you want, unashamedly. It’s an escape from reality, a dip into another life. And confidence comes easily when you’re pretending. You scan over your costume in the reflection of the floor length mirror in front of you—a too-tight red dress adorns your curves, black fishnets hug your thighs, and bright red stilettos accentuate your figure.
“C’mon! We gotta get to the club before the line gets too long,” your best friend appears behind you and places the headband with devil horns in your hair, “There. Perfectly slutty.” She rests her head on your shoulder and admires your costume in the mirror. She is dressed as your opposite, an angel.
“Stop panicking! The uber is still five minutes away, Pheebs.” Phoebe’s a worrier, and is never ever late anywhere, so the fact that you two are leaving fifteen minutes later than you originally planned, has her buzzing with anticipation.
While Phoebe paces back and forth at the foot of your bed, you dig through your makeup bag for your favorite red lipstick. You slightly over line your cupids bow and blend the color with your finger. You lean back and study yourself for a minute, you look hot. Phoebe interrupts your thoughts when she starts yelling about the Uber driver’s arrival. With a tug of your arm, both of you are trampling out of your apartment door in your six-inch heels on wobbly legs.
The club is suffocating. In your drunken state, the strobing lights and the bodies grinding up against you make it so much worse. Phoebe is dancing with some guy dressed as a vampire, she looks extremely unimpressed so you decide to take it as your chance to leave. You pull Phoebe away from the handsy man and shoot him an apologetic smile—you’re not sorry at all.
You feel like you’ve been resuscitated when you step out into the cool autumn air outside.
“Thank god you rescued me from Dracula. Guy was about to get his fake blood all over my white dress.” You and Phoebe share a laugh and lean against the brick wall behind you. The alcohol seems to hit you harder once removed from the chaos inside of the club. You scan the buildings lining the street in front of you and a bar name captures your attention. It’s the bar where your dad frequents with his buddies after work, one of his buddies being a painfully gorgeous dilf, Joel Miller. You know for a fact your dad won’t be there because your mom dragged him to some Halloween work party she wouldn’t stop talking about over the phone yesterday.
An idea pops into your brain and you can’t shake it, so you point to the bar across the street and tug at Phoebe’s hand, “Let’s go there! It’s probably less crowded and I’m not ready to call it a night,” you give your friend your best puppy dog eyes, and she begrudgingly gives in with a roll of her eyes and an okay, fine.
The dive bar smells of stale smoke and spilled beer. Random sports games are televised on multiple screens against the far wall and a jukebox sits in the corner playing a classic rock song from the 80s. It has character, you think to yourself. It’s a breath of fresh air compared to the marble top bars and sparkling chandeliers that decorated the club you just left. You and Phoebe definitely stand out from the crowd of middle-aged men loitering around the place. It feels a bit intimidating getting checked out by pervy old men as you strut to the bar, but it’s too late to turn back now. Plus, you are looking for a certain someone.
You scan the hefty crowd and search for the man with familiar brown curls and a scruffy beard. You double check every table and bar top with no luck, he is definitely not here. With a disappointed sigh, you chug your vodka cran and tell Phoebe you’re ready to head out.
Just before you get up to leave, you hear your name being called by a husky voice behind you. You would know that voice anywhere. You turn around, and there he is in all his glory. A tight, navy blue t-shirt hugs his chest and his biceps are about to tear the seams. He greets you with a half smile.
“Mr. Miller! What’re you doing here?” You act surprised, at least you try your best to act surprised with the alcohol running through your veins.
“Sarah’s out trick or treatin’ with some friends, got tired ‘a givin out candy, decided on gettin’ a beer to pass the time.” He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you sheepishly, “uh, I think I should be askin’ you what you’re doin’ here. You tend to hang at a bar with a buncha old farts?”
You giggle, “Not necessarily, no. Pheebs and I were just having a nightcap after clubbing. Oh! How rude of me. Phoebe, this is Joel. Joel, this is Phoebe, my best friend.” You gesture between the two of them and give Phoebe’s shoulder a light squeeze while her and Joel share a quick handshake.
“Nice to meet you, Phoebe. Well, I should let you girls go on your way. I’ll see ya around, then.” As you bid your farewells to Joel and start to walk forward, you nearly fall flat on your face. Maybe you were more drunk than you thought. “Woah there, easy, darlin’.” Joel grabs you by the hips to steady you before you trip over your own two feet.
“‘M sorry, Mr. Miller. I think I drank a little too much. I’ll be okay, we’re gonna order an Uber anyway.” Your hand lays flat against his chest and you bashfully look at him through your eyelashes. You’re so close to him, you can smell his cologne. Pine? Maybe a hint of sandalwood. You can see the specks of gray hidden in his beard and the crease between his eyebrows. He is so beautiful, you just keep repeating that to yourself over and over as you study his face. He is also too old for you and your dad’s best friend, you remind yourself.
“Nonsense. I’ll give you girls a ride home, your old man would kill me if I let ya walk outta here barely able to stand up on your own.” Joel keeps a hand firmly planted on your upper back as Phoebe leads the way to the exit.
Joel’s truck is an old Chevy with a single bench. You’re sandwiched between Joel and Phoebe. Phoebe’s head is resting against the window as she drifts in and out of sleep, but you are wide awake and laser focused on your thigh brushing Joel’s. Electricity shoots through you with each bump in the road, pushing you and Joel closer together. The music on the radio plays at a low volume, so low you can hear the way Joel breathes. The way his breath hitches in the slightest every time you two touch unintentionally.
You’re giving Joel the directions to Phoebe’s place, which is difficult considering you’re drunk and everything is mush in your brain. But by some miracle, Joel finds Phoebe’s apartment building, and you walk her to the front door, hugging her goodbye.
When you get back in the truck, you return to the spot on the bench right next to Joel.
“Y’could move over now, if that’s more comfortable for ya, darlin’,” you hum in acknowledgment at Joel’s suggestion.
“Mmm. Don’ wanna. ‘S comfy, you’re so warm,” you’re definitely playing up your drunkenness but it doesn’t hurt if it means you get to be a little closer to Joel. You nuzzle your head against his muscular shoulder and sigh in contentment as you feel yourself getting sleepy.
Joel chuckles, a deep laugh that vibrates through his chest straight to your temple, “Alright, sweetheart, whatever makes ya happy,” he then lifts him arm and stretches it across the back of the seat, letting you cradle into his side. You soak in the moment, relishing in the way the lights whir past you along with the houses lining either side of you. The way Joel’s breathing is steady but his heart rate is just as fast as yours. You can smell his detergent on his shirt and you can feel the way his muscles tense and relax with each turn he makes with the wheel. You could probably do this for hours, just driving down random streets, the radio quietly playing being the only sound in the confines of the car. But, all good things must come to an end, such as pulling into your apartment complex’s parking lot and untangling yourself from Joel’s warm body.
No words are exchanged on the way to the lobby, or the elevator, or even walking down your hallway, just a silent reassurance by Joel’s hand on the small of your back—a message—I want to make sure you’re okay. When you get to your door, you purposely fumble with the keys and wobble on your heels. Your plan works out perfectly.
“Here, lemme get the door. I’ll walk ya to bed and get you a cup of water once we’re inside.” Bingo.
Joel swings the door open and you stumble past the threshold, immediately kicking off your stilettos. His hand finds its way to the small of your back again, gently leading you to your kitchen. You plop down on a chair and watch Joel search the cabinets for a glass. You are more than capable of telling him where they are, but you like watching the way his biceps stretch the fabric of his shirt every time he reaches to pull open a cabinet door. Once he finds a glass, he fills it with the tap and saunters over to you.
“Here ya go, angel. Gotta get you hydrated.” Joel holds the glass out to you, and you guzzle it in a few gulps, “Thirsty girl, ain’t ya? Feelin’ any better?”
“Mhm. Much better. You make it better,” a close lipped, content smile paints your features as you set the glass down on the table and get up from your seat. Now chest to chest with Joel, you place a hand on his chest and look up at him. With the heels now discarded, he towers over you. You note how his pupils dilate a bit when your eyes meet.
“Let’s get you to bed, sweetheart,” Joel feels his chest tightening with each second your hand lingers on his sternum. He wants nothing more than to close the distance between you two and lose himself in the feeling of your lips intermingling. But he knows you’re off limits, you’re his best friend’s daughter and too many years his junior. So he locks those thoughts somewhere in the depths of his brain and grabs your hand to lead you to your bedroom—just so he can make sure you’re okay, at least that’s what he tells himself.
Joel enters your bedroom first, absorbing the intimate space you call your own. Old vinyl records line your shelves and plants sit on your windowsill, overgrown and cascading to the oak flooring, a book sits on your nightstand with a pair of glasses sitting atop the cover. He scans your walls and notes the art you’ve chosen to decorate with, modern paintings of silhouetted bodies intertwined. Your desk is littered with pencils and journals, one is open to a sketch of a tree. It smells like you, vanilla and jasmine, he feels himself getting intoxicated each time he inhales. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you moving around, you’re fumbling with your dresser, digging through the drawer trying to find something.
“Jus’ sit down, darlin’, what’re you lookin’ for?” Joel gently moves you aside and guides you to sit on the edge of the bed.
“I’m just looking for one of my big sleep shirts. It’s an old Texas Longhorns shirt. You can’t miss it, it’s probably at the bottom of the drawer somewhere.”
“Alright, angel. I’ll find it for ya.” Joel has his back turned to you as he rummages through the balled up shirts in your drawer. You take this moment as your cue to make a move. You slowly start sliding your thin straps down your shoulders, careful to not expose your chest just yet. “Found it!” Joel seems elated that he found the shirt you so desperately wanted, it’s endearing. When he returns his attention to you, the piece of clothing falls from his hands to the floor beneath him. You are leisurely pulling your dress down over the curve of your breasts, maintaining eye contact as you do so.
“Can you help me get this dress off, Joel? Please?” You feign innocence and gaze at him with doe eyes. Joel is looking anywhere but you, clearly fighting his inner voice telling him what’s happening is wrong.
“I think you can do that yourself, honey. I don’ want your daddy t’kill me,” Joel stares at the ceiling, cursing whatever higher power there is for putting him in this situation. He feels you step closer to him, the tension palpable in the air shared between the two of you.
With your dress pulled just below your breasts, you take both hands and gently pull Joel’s head down to look at you, “Joel, I know you want this just as bad as I do. We’re both adults. I won’t kiss and tell, c’mon.” Your hands trail from his jaw to his neck, to his collarbones. Joel sighs, his face contorted into a look of contemplation.
“I-I can’t, darlin’. I want to, trust me, I really want to,” Joel engulfs both of your hands in his own and presses them to his heart. He is searching your eyes, for some sign of reluctance, but all he can find is pure lust.
Your hands travel south, skimming his clothed abdomen, over his soft belly, until your fingers hitch on his waistband, his words contradicting the growing bulge in his jeans. You run your nails side to side under the band of his boxers, making him visibly shudder. Then you lean in while standing on your tiptoes, and you gently place an open-mouthed kiss on his neck.
Joel grunts at that. All reason leaving him the moment your plush lips touch his bare skin, “Fuck it,” Joel grabs you by the jaw and kisses you hard. It’s electric, the kiss knocking you into stone-cold sobriety. With his other hand, he grabs you by the waist and starts leading you backwards to the edge of the bed.
When the back of your knees hit the mattress, you pull Joel down with you onto the white duvet. Joel breaks the kiss to admire your exposed chest, “Fuuuuck, baby, you’re so beautiful.” Joel takes one of your tits in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub, while his hand pinches and plays with your other nipple. He removes his mouth from your tit with a loud pop, moving to the other one with the same treatment.
“F-fuck, Joel, need more, please,” you’re whining and writhing beneath him. It feels so good but you need his hands in your lower region now or you might explode. Joel peels off the rest of your dress, leaving you in small spandex shorts over your fishnet stockings. With one swift motion, Joel discards the tight shorts onto the floor.
Joel can barely form a thought as he looks at the sight before him, “No panties, baby?” Your pussy is bare beneath your stockings, making Joel salivate at the obscene vision.
“Please, Joel, please. Need you so bad. Wanted this for s-so long, I touch myself thinking about you,” you are on the verge of tears, aching to be touched where you need it most, but Joel is just gawking, taking pride in how he makes you squirm. Joel stands from the bed, leaving you confused and visibly more upset, “W-what are you doing?”
“Show me, baby.” Joel has a smug smirk on his face as he watches you grasp what he’s implying.
“Wha-what?” You are baffled, you are mostly naked, sprawled out on your bed for Joel to take you however he pleases and he’s asking to watch you touch yourself?
“Show me how I make you feel good, angel. Wanna see your pretty little fingers fuck that tight pussy.” The brashness of Joel’s words make you audibly moan. Instead of taking the black fishnets off, you start to rub yourself through the holes over your clit. You never break eye contact with Joel, gathering the slick between your folds and pushing a single finger in, using the heel of your hand to stimulate your clit.
Your eyes rake over Joel’s chest, his shirt taut against his burly stature. With just a few thrusts of your fingers, you’re close, it’s the fastest you’ve ever approached an orgasm, but Joel palming himself through his jeans while he watches you get off is unbelievably hot.
The coil in your lower belly snaps and your eyes roll back, you’re chanting Joel’s name like a prayer as you fuck yourself through your climax.
Joel groans and quickly approaches you on the bed, capturing you in a deep, passionate kiss before pulling back, “That was so hot, baby, nearly had me cummin’ in my damn jeans. I gotta taste you.” Joel trails kisses down your sternum, to your abdomen, to your mound, and stops just before your most sensitive area. He looks at you for approval, you furiously nod your head, eager for whatever he has in store for you. Next thing you know, he is ripping the fabric of your stockings that covers your pussy with no effort at all.
“Look at that pretty pussy, all for me. It’s mine,” the hunger in Joel’s eyes is unlike anything you’ve ever seen before, all-consuming and animalistic.
“All yours, Joel. Fuck! All y-yours,” you tug at his hair, grounding yourself with the soft feel of his brown curls just to confirm that you aren’t dreaming.
He starts with a long stripe along your folds, gently prodding his tongue into your entrance. You’re still so sensitive, your thighs are shaking as he holds them down over his broad shoulders. He’s sucking and slurping you, twirling his tongue over your sensitive nub every so often. He’s taking his time, learning what pleasures you most, experimenting with different techniques. He is memorizing the way your pussy feels throbbing against his tongue, how you subtly grind your hips onto his nose to chase your high. You taste so sweet, like nectar dripping from a ripe peach, he could lick and suck and fuck you with his tongue all night.
Joel is relentless, eating you in earnest, he removes his hand from the grasp on your thigh and brings two thick fingers to your mouth. You obey his command, taking both fingers in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and using your tongue to lubricate them, the taste of Joel blanketing your taste buds. Joel removes his fingers from your mouth and places them at your entrance, sliding in one digit with ease and fucking you slowly before adding a second. He is knuckles deep in your pussy and his fingers are much bigger than yours, stretching you with a delicious burn.
“Baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, fuuuck,” Joel comes up for air, never letting up the pace of his fingers entering and leaving you.
The rough callouses on his fingers provide a whole new sensation. It’s overwhelming in the best way possible. Every ridge a foreign sensation that has you reeling. He suddenly crooks his fingers to hit the spongey spot in your pussy, sending you to cloud nine. He knows just the right places to focus his fingers that have you bucking your hips up. When he returns to sucking your clit, you feel yourself teetering on the edge of your second orgasm.
“You’re so close, baby, I can feel it. Let go f’me,” your body obeys Joel’s words and you unravel before him, letting your whimpers and moans roar through the four-walls surrounding you. Joel slurps up every drop of your nectar like a man starving. You push his head away at the full-body feeling of overstimulation.
“Oh my god, Joel. Holy fuck. I need to suck your cock, please,” Joel gets up from the bed and you sit at the edge, immediately reaching out to undo his belt. He helps you undress him, tossing his shirt, jeans and boxers aside with the pile of your clothes laying on the floor. His cock springs to attention, his tip weeping and red. He’s big, much bigger than anyone you’ve been with before.
The shock must be present on your face when Joel takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger and tilts your head up to meet his eyes, “Don’ worry baby, we’ll make it fit,” he glides his thumb over your plump lower lip then leans in for a gentle kiss, a silent gesture of reassurance.
Your nimble fingers find his shaft, the skin feels silky beneath your touch, your fingers barely touching as they wrap around the girth of him. You gather the precum leaking from his tip and spread it along the length of him. You pool your saliva and hold eye contact with Joel as you let a thick string of spit dribble from your lips to the tip of his cock. You spread it slowly up and down the length of his dick.
He throws his head back and hisses, “Shiiiit, that’s it, good girl. Get my cock nice and wet for that pretty little mouth of yours. Open up,” at Joel’s request, you part your lips and flick your tongue over his slit before wrapping your lips around the fat tip.
Joel grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck and gently guides his dick further into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. You release your hand from the rest of his shaft and brace yourself on his muscular thighs as he slowly starts to fuck your throat. You are breathing through your nose, trying to swallow him further with each thrust.
You peer up at Joel through wet eyelashes, admiring the look of sheer bliss on his face. His other hand is lightly pressing the base of your throat, feeling his cock go in and out.
With one swift thrust of his hips, he holds his cock in place down your throat. You are gagging, tears streaming down your face from the pressure and your red lipstick is smeared everywhere but your lips. You can’t help but touch yourself listening to Joel’s grunts and heavy breathing.
“This turn you on, babygirl? You like your throat getting stuffed with this big cock? Hm?” Joel releases you from his grip to let you answer. A string of spit and precum connect your lips to the tip of Joel’s cock. You are gasping for air, holding yourself upright with one hand on Joel’s thigh, and still rubbing your clit with the other.
You can barely form a coherent sentence, “Y-yes, I l-love it, J-Joel, s-so h-hot,” Joel chuckles, pulling you up by the armpits and meeting you halfway in a sloppy kiss, all teeth and tongue. He guides you to lay back on the bed, hovering over you, holding himself up on his forearms.
“Baby, you got a condom somewhere ‘round here?” Joel starts to reach for your bedside table, you grab his wrist to stop him.
“No, Joel, wanna feel you,” you guide his hand to your breast and place a kiss on his jawline.
“You’re gonna be the death of me, darlin’.”
Joel fists his cock and brings it to your clit, lightly tapping the bundle of nerves, making you moan. He drags the tip through your folds, gathering your slick before slowly inserting the head of his cock into your entrance. Your face contorts with pleasure and pain, he’s barely in and you feel the stretch.
“You okay, baby?” Joel cradles your face with his large calloused hand and searches your eyes, a look of concern washed over his features.
“Yes, yes. Keep going, please,” you plead with Joel. Joel nods his head and places a soft kiss to the tip of your nose. He goes slow, you can feel every ridge and vein of his dick as he sinks into you further. The massive stretch of his girth burns so good.
When he bottoms out, you can feel him in your guts. You’re so full of him, so consumed by him in every way. He stills, letting you adjust to the size of him. The burning you feel quickly fades and you’re left craving more.
“Move, baby. Please, Joel…move,” Joel starts with shallow thrusts, examining your expression with each movement. He loves the way you catch your bottom lip between your teeth to contain your moans. He basks in the way your sweat mingles with his, a way of marking you as his own. His primal instinct takes over and he pulls out completely before plunging into you hard. Your pussy is squeezing his cock with each deep thrust.
The mixture of sex and Joel’s musk fills the air, you’re so close to him, you can see a drop of sweat forming at his hairline. His curls stick to his forehead and his lips are red and puffy. His mouth hangs open as he watches where your bodies meet, his shoulder muscles are flexing each time he fucks into you. Just the picture of him before you can send you into oblivion.
Joel brings his thumb to your clit and starts rubbing it in small circles. Your eyes roll back, you feel the white hot fire burning in your lower belly.
“Nuh uh, babygirl. Look at me when you cum. Wanna see those pretty eyes,” Joel’s words shoot straight to your core, and when you meet his gaze, you completely lose it. Your climax hits you like a truck, it completely consumes you, sending you to another dimension.
You can’t contain the noises that emerge from you, it’s a string of incoherent curses and Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. As you come down from your high, everything is blurry, except for Joel. He looks so fucked out, watching you expose yourself to him in the most vulnerable of ways.
Joel suddenly pulls out, scoops you up and tosses you down onto your belly, “Get on your hands and knees f’me, baby,” you scramble onto all fours and arch your back, looking over your shoulder at Joel. “Jus’ like that, fuuuck, fuckin’ perfect little slut for me, ain’t ya?” Joel calling you a slut makes your pussy clench around nothing. With no energy left to spare, you just moan in response.
He thrusts into you with no warning, making you yelp. At this angle, he feels impossibly deeper, the tip kissing your cervix each time he shoves you full of his cock. Joel’s grip is bruising on your hips, sure to leave marks that will fade to purple by the morning. His pace is frantic, sending your body into overdrive. Every one of your nerve endings feels like they’ve been lit on fire, the overstimulation sending you into a fucked out daze.
Joel grabs you by the hair and yanks you up into a vertical position, his hand snakes around your throat while his other arm is secured at your waist. You can feel his coarse stubble on the shell of your ear, his lips whispering filthy words that make your pussy pulse around him. The room is spinning, your only hold on reality is the feeling of Joel surrounding you in his strong embrace.
Joel’s fingers find your overstimulated clit, he’s pinching and rubbing, making you wriggle in his tight grip.
“One more for me, you can do it, baby. Can you be my good girl?”
“I-I c-can’t,” your pleas fall on deaf ears, Joel doesn’t let up in the slightest.
“Yes, you can, baby. You’re alright, I gotcha. One more, that’s all I need,” you just nod in response, letting yourself feel every sensation lighting you on fire.
Joel’s lips find your pulse point, he begins sucking and biting, then licking and soothing each mark. You feel him everywhere and it’s too much. Your whole body tenses as your fourth orgasm of the night takes over your body. Joel has to hold you upright as your body convulses and your vision goes white.
As you feel your climax nearing an end, Joel’s thrusts become sloppier and start to falter.
“I’m gonna cum, baby. Where d’ya want me?”
“Inside, please, Joel. ‘M on the pill. Want you to fill me up,” at the sound of those words falling from your lips like sweet honey, Joel stills inside of you, whimpering and moaning in your ear. You feel the thick ropes of cum coat your walls and drip down the inside of your thigh.
Joel pulls out with a hiss, the action leaving you feeling incredibly empty. He falls onto his side on the bed, taking you with him. You turn in his arms to face him, admiring how peaceful he looks.
You relish in this moment, noting the way your bodies are intertwined. The sound of Joel’s heartbeat rings in your ears and settles in your memory. You mindlessly draw hearts on Joel’s chest with your pointer finger. He stares at you through hooded eyes, on the verge of sleep.
“What are you thinkin’ about, beautiful girl?” Joel kisses your forehead, you feel him smile against your skin.
You giggle, giddiness consumes you, “Jus’ thinkin’ about how you just ruined every other guy for me,” it’s a true statement, but you aren’t disappointed in the slightest. This is all you want, now and forever.
“I ain’t lettin’ any other guy come near you again. You’re mine now, sweet girl.” Joel pulls you closer against his chest and kisses the top of your head, inhaling your scent, basking in it.
A toothy smile creeps onto your face, “I’m yours, Joel.”
a/n: if you made it this far—hi! thank you!!! this is my first time ever writing smut so please be kind :,) sending you so many hugs and kisses <3
taglist (i just used my taglist for willow im sorry if you didn’t want to be tagged):
@ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @alejaa-a @cool-iguana @littleshadow17 @planet-marz1 @alyhull @joeldjarin @lizzyervs @joeldjarin @casa-boiardi @loveisacowboyyy @thegrlwholivedd @ashleymsnodgrass @ilovepedro @dilfspitdrinker @bastardmandennis @breakfastatjoels @gracieheartspedro @chaotic-mystery
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billwidoll · 1 month
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Come back to me please
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You were at Topper's party, looking bewildered for your boyfriend Rafe, you asked everyone, but no one knew where he was. Except Topper.
"Hey Topper..." You say, approaching him, getting closer as the music was loud.
"hi yn! Enjoying the party?" Topper says drinking his drink. Topper was the king of parties and Rafe was the king of Outer banks Fact.
"Not really, I'm looking for Rafe, have you seen him?"
You ask loudly, you didn't drink or like parties much, you only went because of Rafe. You were the golden girl, you didn't drink, you didn't smoke, you were perfect and everyone was surprised when you and Rafe made it official, even Topper imagined that his friend would date a bitch, But Rafe chose you because it was love at first sight.
You had already been dating for 2 years, and Rafe was making plans for your future with him, you knew Rafe's fame, but you put that aside and clung to loving him.
"I think he's smelling dust with the kelce on top"
Topper speaks normally and you immediately get angry, as Rafe had promised he would stop it. You thank him and say goodbye to Topper.
You go up and see several rooms, and you ask everyone which room Rafe was in, until they pointed to a room that was in the last one. And you go there, ready to give a scolding In Rafe, you just didn't expect what was going to happen.
You approach the room and open the door, and you see Rafe Cameron, sucking Sophia, his best friend's breasts.
"Wow!" You speak with tears welling in your eyes and impulsively end up dropping your cell phone.
Rafe quickly sees you and stands up with a pale face.
"My love....and....I can explain...." Rafe speaks stuttering and getting closer to you and holding your arm.
"friend...we can explain" Sophia adds, and you become completely mobile, without any kind of reaction, and that terrified Rafe.
"Sophia get out of here now!" Rafe shouts, thinking Sophia would ruin his explanation.
"what about us Rafe?" Sophia asks how the victim was her. Rafe takes a quick look at her and she runs away.
"Love... don't cry... don't do this to me, it hurts too much" Rafe says holding your face and you're still a statue.
You stand up and move a little away from Rafe.
"I only have one thing to tell you: I loved you and I did my part, I thought we were going to get married and have two children like you wanted"
You throw it in his face, and his heart starts beating too fast. Rafe had just had a fight with his father, and it got on his nerves, so to distract himself he went to his father's party Topper, there he saw Sophia in a tight and short dress, seducing him, he unfortunately fell for her fetish.
"Whatever you say, I love you, I'm crazy about you, you're the woman I want to have kids with and marry, I want you to be a Cameron."
Rafe speaks crying and despairing, he was very afraid of losing the only person he truly loved.
"Bye Rafe... I hope you take care, okay?" You say, approaching the door, until Rafe jumps at you.
“Don’t give up on me, please don’t give up” Rafe cries pinning you against the door.
"no Rafe, that was the last straw" you reply, and Rafe insists once again.
"I belong to you and only you, love" Rafe speaks sobbing, and perhaps it could be more emotional manipulation that he was trying to do.
But it's true that Rafe was distressed by the fact that you might disappear from his life.
"Only you, my girl, only you, love, Only you, my girl, only you, babe"
Rafe repeats several times, placing his hands on your face and kissing you forcefully, clearly you pull away.
"Rafe! You've wronged me several times, okay? And I always forgive you, but this time you really hurt me"
You explain and unfortunately it doesn't enter Rafe's head.
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"No! No! And not! You won't leave me now or ever!!!"
Rafe shouts at you and this scares you, putting you back, he approaches you to try to kiss you or hug you, but you kneel on Rafe's dick, and he falls to the floor. And you run from there. After that day, Rafe never saw you again.
Five years later
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Rafe was at the Country Club, with Topper and Kelce. Rafe didn't play golf anymore, he didn't work anymore, he didn't date anymore, and he was poorly looked after, Rafe only cared about drinking and sleeping.
"Hey man! Are you aware of the gossip?" Topper says drinking his water.
"what is it huh?" Rafe asks, drinking his whiskey as always.
"The wonderful yn, being back, married and with children"
When Topper says this, Rafe chokes on the whiskey he was drinking, he never saw you again. After the breakup, you went to Los Angeles and never responded to any of Rafe's messages.
"Married? And what do you mean with children?" Rafe asks trying to compose himself.
"and man! The girl is in luxury, her husband is a millionaire back in New York." Topper speaks, and Rafe is furious with those comments.
"so what? I'm a millionaire too" Rafe says trying to think he's better than his husband.
"Ah Rafe, let's be honest, you've run out of money and practically your father's, you haven't risen to your future friend"
Topper speaks wisely, and Rafe knew he was right and that's what you were talking about and he didn't listen and he regretted it
"you know what? I'm going to go to her" Rafe says, taking his wallet and leaving the money on the counter.
"Who she?" Topper says confused.
"the woman of my life" Rafe says looking directly into Topper's eyes.
"Man, she has two kids and a husband, do you think she's still stuck in the past?" Topper speaks leaving Rafe crestfallen, but that wouldn't stop him from going after you.
"just tell me where she is Topper!!!" Rafe yells, pulling on the ring on Topper's shirt.
"they told me she was at her old house, bro" Topper speaks in despair at his friend's desperation.
Rafe immediately gets on his bike and goes out to look for you.
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Rafe arrives at his old house, and you weren't Kook, you were Pogue, and you had a simple one.
Rafe parks his motorbike, and he sees you in the garden of the house, playing with your two young children and a dog. Rafe gets emotional at that scene, and starts to cry.
It didn't take long for you to see Rafe, and when you did, you didn't know it was Rafe, you thought he was an ordinary man, watching you and your children play.
You approach the man who was watching that scene and go to him and ask.
"Can I help you?" You ask, holding one child in your arms and another in your hand.
Rafe raises his head, and you can see better that it was the former great love of your life.
"Have I changed so much that my ex-girlfriend doesn't recognize me?"
Rafe made a light humorless joke, he was very sad but wanted to appear normal in front of you.
"oh my god! Rafe! Wow! And.... you look so... different"
You say really shocked, Rafe was really different.
"Do you want to come in? Do you want anything? We can talk, don't you think?" You ask him formally, and Rafe nods his head and nods accepting his invitation.
Rafe enters your house, and everything really was the same, everything was the same when you were dating.
"Don't fix the mess, please" you say, giving Rafe a slight smile, and you put your son in the crib and your other son on the floor to play with the cars.
"no... it's perfect. It really is beautiful" Rafe says, smiling at you too and you go to the kitchen to prepare some juice.
Rafe can't help but ask, the biggest question in his celebration.
"why did you come back....?" Rafe asks creating a tension in his words.
"I'm going to renovate this house and sell it as a beach house" you say, still smiling. Rafe couldn't believe you looked like that. Were you mad at him? I was sad? Or worse, was it over? There were many questions in Rafe's head.
"Really? You came to the Outer Banks just to sell this house?" Rafe says hoping you tell him you missed him.
"No, actually I saw it, show the beaches to my children, there in New York, we were just getting used to the cold and the city." You made it by gluing the tea to the cup for you and Rafe.
"Ah... I see... your children are cute...." Rafe says, getting confused in his answers, but he was sad and depressed.
"But what about you, Rafe Cameron? How are you? Are you still the biggest playboy in town?" You say smiling and giving him the glass of tea.
"Nah...my life is...crazy as hell" Rafe says once again scratching his head and looking down "but you're okay, right? You're already married and with kids, and from what I know the guy and one hell of a Millionaire, right?”
You noticed right away that Rafe wasn't feeling well at all, and that he was suffering from anxiety, you were angry with him, you were very young when you separated.
"Yes....I evolve in life Rafe" you say a little more intensely, without knowing the relationship as Rafe was.
"that's good! I'm very happy for you..." Rafe says with tears welling up in his eyes and you realize at some point
"Rafe? Hey! Look at me, are you crying?" You ask, putting down your tea, and moving closer to Rafe.
He lowers his head trying to hide it, but he was already sobbing.
"It was supposed to be us...it was supposed to be us, my love!" Rafe says, crying a lot and putting his hand on his face.
"Rafe...what we experienced was in the past..." You try to speak in a way that doesn't hurt him.
He shakes his head no and you sigh.
"Look....I'm sure if I didn't make mistakes with you in the past, maybe we would be a perfect family!!"
Rafe says, crying with anger, he was angry with himself for doing something horrible to you. You were speechless, you didn't know what to feel, you loved your new husband, but you loved Rafe... regardless of everything.
"I love you! My life turned into hell when you left it" Rafe says, grabbing your face and getting closer to his "I fell into drugs and drinks, I never felt attracted to you again no woman , I lost my inheritance, I'm running out of YN..."
"Rafe..." Just as you were about to start talking to Rafe, someone interrupted.
"Honey, I'm here!" Her husband speaks, opening the door and finding Rafe beside her.
"Oh dear!" You speak completely unprepared, you didn't realize that it was time for your husband to arrive. Rafe's face changes to hatred and contempt
Your husband drops his suit on the chair and approaches you, giving you a peck on the lips and then holding your waist. When Rafe saw that, all he could think about was pain and suffering.
"Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend, my dear?" Your husband encourages you to talk about Rafe and you swallow hard.
"this one is Rafe Cameron, my old.... friend" you say with a heavy heart. And that hurts Rafe a lot.
"It's a pleasure to meet you Rafe" her husband raises his hand to greet Rafe, only for Rafe to leave abruptly "What did I do wrong?" Your husband asks confused.
You run after Rafe, and it was starting to rain. You keep running Rafe, who was heading towards his bike.
"Rafe! Stop! Stop! Please listen to me!" You say, grabbing his arm and trying to turn him around to make him face you.
"Stop what?! Hu?! My life is shit because of you! And you're making it worse!!"
Rafe shouts in your face, as the rain starts to get heavier.
"You betrayed me, Rafe!!! It's not my fault that your life is horrible!!!" You respond by screaming and pushing his chest
Rafe laughs without humor
"oh and? You have the husband of your dreams, a house of your dreams, you have two children and a dog, your life is wonderful!!"
Rafe says, making you so angry that you end up slapping him in the face.
"I was supposed to do this five years ago!"
When you turn to go back to your house, Rafe ends up pulling you and kissing you intensely.
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The kiss had passion, anger, sadness, longing, desire, it had emotions, and that kiss was a sudden goodbye between Rafe and you.
You stop kissing and look at each other, and your look says everything Rafe wanted to know. You were married to a wonderful man and a millionaire, you had two children and a dog, you already had a life Formed. Rafe, on the other hand, had drugs and drinks. And you couldn't let go of that, for Rafe, unfortunately.
Rafe immediately understands that and he nods, understanding what you meant.
"Goodbye Rafe Cameron..."
_____________________
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totalswag · 3 months
Text
unfold — RAFE CAMERON
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authors note sorry for not posting as much with fics, life got a little to serious for a moment. huge thank you for 600+ followers you guys are absolutely amazing ugh. this idea came in mind randomly one day and rafe little unfolding with his enemy is...
summary you have been rafe camerons shit list for a long time now. what happens when you attend a party at tannyhill and somehow make Rafe cameron fold
warnings mentions of smoking, drinking, cussing, partying
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Rafe Cameron, kook king, as people would say.
He’s one of the most popular people in outer banks. Just hearing his name sends shivers down people's spines. He has girls practically on their knees for him left and right. There’s something about him that captivates them.
But, you don't want to mess with him either. You don’t want to be on his bad side. When he walks into a room, everyone stops and looks at him with fear or wondering what he's gonna do. He loves the fact that he has that effect on others. It helps boost his ego.
Rafe Cameron, on the other hand, has had you on his shitlist for a long time. You enjoy antagonizing and teasing him. You enjoy seeing him furious when you do things that irritate him. People warn you, but you dismiss them since he never does anything about it. He’s never and will never do anything in ways to hurt you physically. 
Rafe’s throwing a party at his house tonight. Of course he didn’t invite you. He knows you’ll show up regardless because that's how you are. Word spreads quickly on the island.
"Y/N, I didn't expect to see you here?" stated one of your close friends, Hailey, smiles as she hugged you.
You initially stated that you would not attend a party because you were not in the mood to do anything this weekend other than sit at home and watch movies. However, once you found that Rafe was throwing a party and happened to live down the road from you, you had no choice but to come and make your presence known. 
“Oh well you know me, gotta make my presence known” you chuckle, taking a sip of your drink, scanning the room.
“If you wanna find Rafe, I’m pretty sure he’s somewhere in the living room or doing coke out back with the guys” Hailey whispers in your ear, winking.
Hailey is very well aware that you enjoy annoying the crap out of the Cameron boy. She claims it's for her own entertainment. She's waiting for you two to crack because she knows you are into each other but won't confess it.
"Let's go on the dance floor?" You insist as you take her hand in yours and walk her past the crowd to the living room.
The two of you start dancing to the beat of the music. A few people you recognize from school come up, catching you off by surprise. You girls end up dancing with each other for half of the night alongside the crowd.
“I’m gonna head to the bathroom real quick” you whisper in her ear. 
“Okay, be safe” she replies back, squeezing your hand before you start walking away.
You bump into a muscular body on your way to the bathroom, and you look up to Rafe, who is already glaring down at you with a stern expression, as if he's about to argue about the fact that you're at his party. You can sense the tension in his body building. You like it.
A smile forms on your lips, and your pointer finger grips and plays with his chain, "looks like someone isn't happy to see me, huh?" You sarcastically remark, waiting for him to snatch your hand away from his chain.
"My night was going great before I bumped into you, Y/N," he replies with a harsh tone with a slight hint sarcastic, rolling his eyes. 
"Aw, are you not excited to see me?" you cynically pout.
Rafe is trying so hard to go off like he usually does with you. You know how to get under his skin unlike anyone else. He hates that you have that effect on him that just snaps.
"You really don't want to start it with me right now, Y/N," he says harshly and sternly. Looking in his eyes, you can see he's had coke and drank.
"Oh, but I really want to start, Rafe," you remark as you move closer, chests meeting.
You couldn’t help but feel the sexual tension growing between the both of you. This is the first time you are feeling it. You’ve always wondered why he never did anything about your behavior towards him. Actually, no one doesn’t know why, only Rafe does. 
Hailey stood a few feet away, watching the whole thing unfold. She had to remove herself from the large crowd of people around her to watch her best friend.
Before Rafe can respond, Kelce walks up to tell Rafe to go in the backyard because there’s something he needs to show him.
"Oh, hey Y/N, it's good to see you and looking beautiful as always" Kelce smiles giving you a warm hug.
"It's to see you too Kelce and thank you" you reply while pulling away from the hug.
“Nice seeing you Rafe” you wave innocently, smiling, then flipping him off with a straight face.
You both know you’ll run into each other again tonight.
When you make your way back to Hailey, she’s laughing over the interaction she watched. You tell her to shut it before she says anything else. You drag her down the hall into the bathroom to pee and talk about what happened.
“I love seeing you do that to him” Hailey laughs, taking a sip of her drink, jumping on the bathroom sink.
In answer, you grin, lifting your finger and moving it back and forth, "The way he was ready to go off on me but cut off when Kelce told him to go in the backyard made me wanna laugh in his face."
After the bathroom, you both headed into the kitchen to get another drink from the coolers. The kitchen was occupied with people getting drinks or simply standing and talking.
Hailey began talking to this guy she'd been eyeing for a while. 
You lean in to whisper in her ear, "I'm gonna let you be, call or text me if you need anything," and she smiles back, reassuring you she’ll be okay.
You scan the room, unsure of what or who you're looking for. Something inside you tells you to go find Rafe and annoy the living shit out of him. Topper and Kelce noticed you examining the room from afar and approached you. 
The two wave as they approach you, you wave back smiling.
“Hello boys” you smile, “enjoying the party?” you ask, taking a sip of your drink.
The last time you saw Kelce he was drunk but not drunk enough. Now here he is half an hour later crossed.
“Fuck yeah, we are crossed” Kelce chuckles, throwing his head back.
Topper agrees with a nod.
“Oh, I can tell,” you reply.
Topper turns around when he sees Rafe making his way over. The two boys take a step back, revealing you. Rafe stops his tracks, rolling his eyes, tongue runs over his bottom lip, annoyed.
Perfect timing to annoy him.
The two boys let out a chuckle, shaking their heads from the look on Rafe’s furious look. 
Something leads you to take Rafe's hand and lead him to the large crowd. You follow your gut and approach him gently. You gaze up to him, who is already staring at you with such intensity that it sends shivers down your spine. You grab his hand in yours and bring him towards the large crowd in the living room.
Topper and Kelce’s jaws dropped when they watched Rafe follow you into the crowd. For one, Rafe never does that with you, ever. They give each other the look of you just saw that too look.
"Please tell me Rafe just let her do that?" Topper blurts with confusion spread all over his face.
Kelce rubbed his eye to make sure he was seeing the same thing as Topper.
When you come to stop, turn around and face him. You can tell he's irritated that you dragged him to the center of the dance floor. But you're wondering why he let you do it.
"Why did you lead me here, Y/N?" Rafe questions.
"I wanna dance, Rafe, and you are gonna dance with me," you chuckle, grabbing both Rafe's hands and resting them on your waist while maintaining eye contact with him.
He shrugs his shoulders, turns your body around, making you gasp, catching you off guard. Now your back is against his front. 
You tilt your head back, swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music while his hands rest themselves on your waist.
As you continue to dance to the music, Rafe leans down to your ear, “you are playing a dangerous game with me, Y/N” the thrill in your blood went through the roof by his comment.
With a smirk, you close your eyes and place your left hand on the back of his neck, drawing his head down so you could whisper in his ear. The sound of his steady breathing may be felt against your skin.
"What kind of game are you implying?" you asked, touching the ends of his hair behind his head.
"C'mon, you can't tell me you haven't been enjoying this, Y/N? You know what I mean," he says, knowing what he means as he’s directing both hands from your waist to the center of your stomach and back to your waist, attempting to catch you off guard, but you refuse to let it happen.
You know that he knows you love annoying the shit out of him but he can tell by the way your body reacts to his touch that has him a little intrigued.
In reaction, you back yourself into his front, drawing a sigh from his lips before spinning around, stepping on your tiptoes and putting your arms around his neck.
You feel something hard pressing against your stomach. In that moment you knew where the night was gonna take you both.
You two make eye contact.
You notice his eyes looking at your lips then your eyes, going back and forth.
“If you’re gonna look at my lips you should just kiss them” you remark with sass which didn’t make him quite happy but you didn’t care.
He leans closer, and your faces get inches closer and closer. At this time, both of your breaths are increasing, but no one is moving. You lean forward and extend the tip of your tongue, allowing it to touch Rafe's upper lip.
Rafe's demeanor shifted, which concerned you a little because you'd seen how aggressive he can be but he'd never hurt you. He grabs your wrist and brings you through the enormous home and upstairs to his bedroom, which is down a hallway and out of hearing. 
As you passed past people, they were taken aback to find you holding hands with Rafe Cameron as you walked the stairs. You can imagine the amount of discussion and publishing on social media.
"You never know when to shut up and take a hint, little one," he says with his back to you, locking his bedroom door before turning around backing you up against the edge of his bed.
"I actually do know when to shut up, mister," you respond, still standing firm. 
Rafe catches you off guard by pushing you onto his bed, opening your legs so he can stand between them, and smoothly moving his hands up and down your thighs. 
"Oh, do you, Princess? Let's see how that goes while you're screaming my name beneath me.”
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