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userlando · 9 months

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the love we left — carlos sainz jr

carlos sainz jr x fem!reader [8.8k] summary: you weren’t aware that your family’s worry had extended so far that they’d brought in the heavy artillery, it being carlos sainz of all people. the very same person who’d turned you into someone you didn’t recognise in the mirror anymore. warnings: 18+ explicit smut & language, very angsty, mentions of alcohol abuse and drug use, heartbreak, childhood friends, brother's best friend, public sex a/n: this has been sitting in my drafts, unfinished for a whole month so I went back and thought that it deserved a second chance. and voilà, here you have it! my very first carlos fic!! i'd love to hear your thoughts on this, because I love how this turned out. happy reading my lovelies!! x

The music was pounding, borderline rupturing your eardrum with good music that had you bobbing your head gently to the intimate beat. Everywhere you looked were bodies, moving in unison and hands roaming sweaty skin.

The bartender poured drinks like his life depended on it, and you watched him pour you another shot of tequila without a verbal request from you, shooting you a friendly grin and side stepping to help the next customer. You downed your shot, pulling a small face at the rancid taste as you made your way to the dance floor.

You didn’t know when you’d become this type of person. The person who’d spend their weekends in clubs, dancing the nights away until they got blisters on their feet and most likely woke up with their head in a toilet bowl. It had started out as something you and your girlfriends did, sneaking into clubs when you’d just turned legal, but then you’d started going alone because you found out that sitting in your apartment alone with your thoughts was way too much for you to handle.

You weren’t strong enough to deal with your emotions, preferring to find people and alcohol to distract you. It had worked out quite well for you and the multiple shots you’d taken over the span of two hours were starting to settle in your bones, buzzing right beneath your skin and giving you enough courage to seek out the dance floor.

Your body moved like it was an entity of its own, face tilted up to the ceiling and eyes closed as you felt the music. It rattled your bones and settled in your hips, the bottom of your heels sticking to the floor with every step you took.

I’ve never seen someone look so at home on a dance floor, he’d once said. The words came sneaking into your mind, unbidden. You could still remember the party, how your brother had bought the whole gang shots and you’d taken to the floor with laughter and happiness in your bellies. The DJ hadn’t been very happy when your brother and the man of the hour stepped up to the booth and completely took over with their non-existent experience of manning a DJ booth, but he’d relented when your brother had drunkenly explained that this man right here? He’s gonna be racing cars professionally, cabrón.

You were so far gone in your head, not even flinching at the pair of hands sliding over your waist and pulling you into a body. The person smelled of cigarette smoke and cheap cologne, and it made something roll in your stomach at the mix of it in your nostrils but you couldn’t pull away. He was yet another distraction from your messed up life, and you welcomed it in all forms.

If you let yourself take a step back and think of exactly why you allowed a complete stranger to touch you the way they were, you’d come to the conclusion that the reason was because the feeling of hands on your hips reminded you of him. That one damned night that changed you, that made you into this.

He’d cornered you against the wall, claimed your lips in a bruising kiss that left you panting and his hands. Fuck. His hands had gripped your hips so tight that you’d had bruises for a whole week after that encounter.

You’d thought that finally, finally the both of you would be together after years of pining; Spending your awkward teenage years wishing that your brother’s best friend would look at you as a girl he could imagine kissing, and not as his best friend’s sister and a family friend. But then he’d acted like nothing happened, leaving you in the dust with little to no explanation as he went to kickstart his career.

Bile rose in your throat as your brain entered dangerous territory, and you blinked your eyes open against the lights. It was blurry, and it took a few moments for you to realise that there were tears welling up in your eyes. You’d stopped crying long ago, but sometimes the tears managed to sneak up on you when you were vulnerable and drunk.

The hands on your body were suddenly too much, and just as you were about to run, someone grabbed you and yanked a little harder than you had been prepared for. You stumbled, a wordless shout leaving your lips when you were pulled to the side of the dance floor, legs struggling to keep up. It took a second for you to realise that someone had grabbed you and was in the process of dragging you off the dance floor, away from the sweaty and dancing bodies, away from the man who you’d danced with. Your eyes were scanning your surroundings, feeling too drunk to think of a good plan to escape so you settled for the only thing that would hopefully get someone’s attention.

Before you could open your mouth and scream, a hand settled right on your lips and muffled the sound, your eyes flickering up to the man in front of you in the hopes that you could shoot him the most pleading look through your eyes.

You found yourself looking into round and dark eyes, so eerily familiar that it made your stomach violently turn and you took a stumbling step back like shock itself had shoved you, turning around to promptly retch into a nearby trash can. You heaved and clutched at the edge of the bin with your hands, moaning miserably until it finally stopped.

“Come on, let’s get you outside.” His voice sounded somewhere behind you, somehow overpowering the pulsing music.

His hands grabbed at you, helping you steady yourself and you didn’t bother to spare him another glance as you weakly shoved his hands away. He didn’t fight you, nor say anything when you walked straight out of the club, legs feeling incredibly weak and hands shaking; like you were two seconds away from breaking down.

And you were. What the fuck was he doing here? Why would he come back?

The chilly air was welcomed when you pushed the back door open, stumbling out into the alley and breathing in, in an effort to sober up. You ignored your trembling hands as you dug around in your purse for gum, anything to get rid of the sour taste in your mouth but you doubted it would do much to settle the nausea roiling in your stomach.

You heard a scuffle behind you, causing you to freeze because you’d been hoping that it was all just your drunken mind playing tricks on you; Because it happened sometimes. It had happened in your dreams, and once when you’d smoked a dodgy rolled up joint and hallucinated him being there. But no, he was standing there when you turned around, eyebrows pulled together in that annoying frown he always wore whenever he disapproved of something. His face was passive though, eyes not giving away anything and it was so infuriating.

He’d always played the older brother, acting like he had some kind of right to decide over you just because he was your brother’s friend. But his feelings had been anything but fraternal, he’d made that very clear when he decided to fuck you and leave.

You swallowed, feeling nauseous as you stood staring at him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, cursing yourself quietly when your voice shook. But you sounded stern, even in your drunken state and something about your tone made the man grit his teeth.

“I was worried—“

No. You didn’t need to hear the same old spiel again. He didn’t get to be worried about you, not anymore.

“What are you doing here, Carlos?” You cut him off, making him cringe at the way you said his name, sharply and angry - so differently from how you used to say it.

“Your family is worried about you.” He replied slowly.

The way he talked reminded you of someone who spoke carefully as to not scare away a skittish animal. It was very bizarre, the feeling so unreal that you had a hard time believing that your fucked up mind hadn’t decided to conjure him up on a random Sunday night. A few moments passed as you stared, and stared. He was truly there in the flesh.

You were aware that your mother had been worried, calling you every day to check up on you and you gave her the same old answer because what else was there to say?

You just weren’t aware that your family’s worry had extended so far that they’d brought in the heavy artillery, it being Carlos fucking Sainz of all people. The very same person who’d turned you into someone you didn’t recognise in the mirror anymore.

“I wanted to check up on you, see how you are doing.” He broke the drawn out silence, stuffing both of his hands into the pockets of his jacket like he didn’t know what else to do with them.

You remembered the odd habit he used to have, where he’d wring his hands whenever he felt out of place. It was such a minuscule detail that barely anyone took notice of, but you did. You always did.

Your eyes dropped to follow the movement, noting the casual jeans and the red hoodie under his black jacket. You quickly looked away, refusing to think about how good he looked.

“Well, now you have. So you can go.” You shot him a smile with no real joy behind it, turning around and walking down the alleyway in the direction of your apartment.

You knew that he wouldn’t leave you alone, and a big part of you wanted him to. But you couldn’t deny that one percent that wanted, needed him to stay.

The sounds of his footsteps let you know that he wasn’t far behind and you jumped like he’d burned you when you felt his fingertips touch your arm. Just a quick touch that lit your body on fire. Your eyes found his and you took a big step back, feeling your chest go tight at the slight downwards tilt of his lips, like he hadn’t expected you to react negatively.

“Nena, please. Let me walk you home, at least.” He said and your throat tightened up at the familiar pet name he’d called you since you were children and so incredibly naive.

“Don’t call me that.” You sniffled, bringing a hand up to rub at your nose. “You don’t get to show up here after two years and play the hero. I don’t need one, and I certainly don’t need you.”

“Lo sé.” He said, but he really didn’t know, did he?

You didn’t say a word, taking two steps before glaring down at your shoes. They had been a pain the whole night and now that the alcohol wasn’t doing its job of numbing the pain, your feet were starting to hurt from being pinched for the past few hours. You balanced yourself with a hand on the wall, slipping your heels off with a quiet grumble and shoving the offending footwear into the man’s chest. Carlos grunted at the unexpected force, hands coming up to catch the heels before they dropped and raising both eyebrows at you.

You weren’t looking at his face, but you could tell that he was baffled by your actions and it made you feel just a tad bit smug. If he was going to show up and insist on pestering you, he might as well make himself useful.

The concrete was uncomfortable to walk barefoot on, but it felt freeing and you took comfort in that feeling. Anything to not think about exactly who was walking a few steps behind you, feeling his eyes on you like hot coal on your skin.

“Do you live far from here?” He asked, tone cautious like he didn’t want to say the wrong things or set you off.

“No, why?” You turned your head to look over your shoulder and found him walking way closer to you than you thought. “Is the neighbourhood not up to your standards?”

You knew you were being petty now, playing unfair and it clearly annoyed Carlos as he looked away to avoid your cold gaze. It wasn’t his fault that he’d gone and got himself an even more lavish lifestyle where he raced cars for a living and got millions out of it. You’d always been proud of him, one of his biggest supporters before everything transpired and although you didn’t want to admit it out loud, you’d always keep tabs on him.

There weren’t enough fingers on your hands to count the amount of times you’d struggled to not pick up your phone and text him after he’d won a race, or if he did badly. The urge to comfort him and to be happy for him was still there, even years later.

“I live down the road.” You said, desperate to break the tension. “You can go.”

Carlos fell into step beside you, not sparing you a glance as he nodded.

“I know.” He said, but made no effort to leave you alone.

The two of you walked in relative silence, interjecting with small talk every now and then to fill the unbearable quiet that had blanketed over you. It took a few minutes for Carlos to relax, shoulders dropping like the tension was slowly seeping out of his body when he realised that you were beyond your anger now, speaking softly rather than the tone you’d carried a few minutes earlier. He didn’t like how you sounded though, mellow and short, like you’d given up on caring. It made something ugly swirl in his stomach to the point where he started to feel nauseous.

He was starting to spiral in his thoughts, trapped inside his head and just as he opened his mouth to speak, you beat him to it.

“How’s Ferrari treating you?” You asked and his head snapped to you. You weren’t looking at him, staring straight ahead with your mouth in a thin line. “You’ve been doing well lately.”

Carlos didn’t know if you were trying to act nonchalant and if you were, you were doing a piss poor job because he could see how you struggled to maintain a neutral expression on your face. He didn’t want to point it out though because his mind had finally caught up to your question, teetering along the edge of she’s keeping tabs on me.

“Yeah.” His voice was hoarse and he hurriedly cleared his throat. “It’s been good, felt like a dream when I signed the contract.”

You could still remember when he started karting, how he’d plead with his parents to buy him merchandise with the Ferrari logo poorly pressed onto the material. It had always been a dream of his, and something about him achieving it made you smile.

“I bet it was.” You said softly, glancing at Carlos to find him staring at you; eyes wide and searching, like he was taking in your smile. You hurried to look away, suddenly uncomfortable with the rush of old emotions storming back and taking residence in your entire being.

“How have you been?” He asked, genuine and curious.

You considered ignoring his question, not knowing how to answer him without making yourself out to be the most pathetic person to grace the earth. How could you tell him how you’d been in a downwards spiral for the past years? Could you even admit to the things you’d done, how you’d drank yourself to oblivion in hopes to numb yourself and worked dead end jobs to keep yourself afloat?

“I’ve been fine.” Your tone was flat, letting him know that you weren’t in the mood to delve deeper and thankfully he respected your wishes, keeping silent. “Well, here we are.”

You nodded up at the apartment complex you’d stopped in front of, suddenly feeling awkward as you found yourselves staring at each other with no idea how to proceed.

Carlos fidgeted as you stared at him, looking as anxious as you felt and it made you a little sad because you’d been better than this, once upon a time. You’d never known awkward silences or odd looks, but you’d somehow managed to go from close to whatever the fuck this was. Strangers. Ex-lovers. But could you even dub him as an ex-lover when you’d only slept with him once?

You took in the sharpness of his jaw, the stubble growing on it fitting him as well as you remembered but there was a certain edge to him that hadn’t existed last time you saw him. He looked fully grown up, like an adult who didn’t have time for children’s games and torrid love affairs.

Homesickness bloomed in your chest the further your mind delved into the past, suddenly wishing that things were different. Wishing that you’d swallowed your pride and picked up your phone.

Would he have answered? Did he change his number?

You swallowed excessive saliva in your mouth, trying not to grimace when it felt like swallowing gravel as your eyes traveled down his arm that he’d successfully managed to free from his pocket, hanging by his side. Your eyes latched onto the space between his thumb and pointer finger, where the tan skin was white and raised in a small bump. A healed scar that brought such a rush of memories that the words tumbled out of your mouth before you overthought them.

“Do you wanna come in?” You asked and Carlos couldn’t manage to hold his surprise in, eyebrows shooting up and jaw going a little slack. “Just… for a while.”

It probably sounded wrong, like you were inviting him with ulterior motives and you weren’t. Really. Just the thought of him touching you made bile rise in your throat and you realised that you weren’t ready. For any of this. But then again, would you ever be ready?

Whatever inner monologue you were running through in your head was halted when Carlos exhaled, glancing at the apartment building before nodding twice.

“Me encantaría.” He said, voice gentle.

You hurried to get your keys out of your purse, hands shaking a little and you didn’t know whether it was from your nerves being shot or the unhealthy amount of alcohol you’d consumed not even an hour ago. The door gave way when you turned the key and pushed it forcefully with your shoulder, stepping inside and flicking the light on.

It wasn’t much. A one bedroom apartment in a safe enough neighbourhood. Your brother had scowled and made his displeasure known when he’d helped you move in, even offering to find you a better place to rent out but you refused. Mostly because this was further away from your family and because it was yours. It had its defects and flaws, but you loved it from the moment you stepped foot inside.

Your brother and Carlos were like one person in two bodies, so you almost expected him to get his two cents in when he stepped in behind you and closed the door; Eyes roaming around and taking in the place. His face gave nothing away, as always, but then his brown eyes landed on you and his lips twitched.

“I like it.” He said, like you’d asked.

You gave a nod, secretly pleased but then you scolded yourself because why the fuck did you even care what he thought? Mierda.

“Glad to know you approve.” You muttered, annoyance pricking your heart and you didn’t know why. “Make yourself comfortable, I’ll just be a minute.”

You left him to his own devices, standing in the middle of the living area looking a little lost while you sought out the comfort of your bedroom. The door closed with a click and you hurriedly changed your clothes to something more comfortable, snatching your makeup wipes where they’d fallen on the floor to wipe at your face. Your makeup was smudged, embarrassingly so but you couldn’t bring yourself to care when your heart was racing a mile a minute, thinking of the man on the other side of the door.

There was a moment of panic where you felt that shit, you shouldn’t have invited him in because this apartment was the only place he hadn’t touched, soiled with his fake promises and lies.

The memories of you in his bed came back with full force, thinking of how you’d woken up in the middle of the night with a smile on your face that got wiped as soon as you touched the cold side of his bed. He’d been nowhere to be found, and you’d contemplated staying and hoping that he’d come back in the morning but then you’d found his contract on the kitchen counter and the packed suitcases you’d somehow skimmed over when you were wrapped up in him.

It had felt like a gut punch and it still did as you stared at yourself in the mirror, swallowing against the nausea swirling up from your stomach to your throat. Your eyes welled with tears, and you gave yourself a moment to silently cry before you wiped angrily at your eyes, reaching for your toothbrush.

You thought back on your younger self, how she’d been so happy to have finally caught the eyes of her brother’s best friend. After years of pining and hoping that he’d see her as something more than his sister. How he’d once wiped a thumb under her eye when she’d first started experiencing with makeup in her teenage years, and he’d softly said that you don’t need so much of it. You’re beautiful, nena.

You deserved better, but you didn’t know what better was. Was it in the arms of a man or the bottom of a shot glass? It was a terrifying revelation, to realise how fucked up your life had become and it was all your fault.

Closure. That was what you needed, wasn’t it? But you didn’t want to move on from him, because despite it all, you still loved him.

Carlos had his back to you when you came out of your room, staring hard at the frames on the wall and you briefly wondered if he noticed how you’d deliberately left out the pictures with him.

“I remember this day.” He said quietly without looking at you. His finger pointed at a framed picture of you and your best friend, at an animal sanctuary with your hands stretched out, feeding a giraffe. “You were so happy to finally see giraffes, no one could pull you away from them.”

You wanted to smile at the memory, but it was hard when emotion was still clogging up your throat. You embraced yourself and sat down on your sofa, making a small hum of acknowledgement instead. Carlos turned around at that, sweeping his eyes across the small area before settling on you.

“Things change.” You said, because they really did.

“Sí.” He sighed, taking a seat in the ottoman. The seat furthest away from you, you noted. “I have that picture in my driver’s room. Not that one, but a similar one where you’re by yourself.”

You knew what picture he was referring to and it made you frown. Why would he confess to that?

“Why?” You asked, because that was the question, wasn’t it? Why, why, why?

Carlos inhaled through his nose, biting the inside of his cheek.

“Reminds me of how simple life used to be.” He said, like it answered the million questions in your head.

You didn’t ask him to elaborate, because you didn’t want to hear it. It must’ve been difficult to lead such a fast paced life, hopping from one country to the other and spending hours on driving cars. You’d imagine that it got a little too much at some point, rendering you homesick and yearning for a simpler life. But it didn’t work like that. Life rarely went the way you wanted it to.

“Why are you really here, Carlos?” You asked, the question so sudden that it cut through the false sense of security the both of you had managed to build.

He stared at you, eyes unmoving and it was so unnerving that you looked down in your lap, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your hands.

“I miss you.” He said, and you barely managed to hold in the scoff. Barely. “I miss us.”

“There was no us.” You interjected, spitting the word out like it was venom.

It might as well have been because Carlos hands curled into fists where they stayed in his lap, something he always did to reel his frustration in. Somehow, that angered you. You weren’t the one who walked out. You weren’t the one who left him behind.

“I kno—“

“No, you don’t!” You hissed, fury finally unfurling in your chest. “El problema es usted no sabe mi dolor o mi vacío. You just walk back into my life like I’m supposed to welcome you with open arms.”

Your breathing was picking up, chest heaving with the lack of air you were heaving in and it did nothing to stop the pricks of tears in your eyes as you raised your head to glare at him. Carlos looked taken aback, hands slack from the previous fists and his eyes looked… Sad. Regretful. It was so pitiful that you couldn’t help but laugh wetly and humourlessly, bringing a sleeved hand to wipe at your nose.

“I don’t know what to say.” He admitted after a painful silence.

You looked away, sniffling as tears started falling traitorously, tracking your cheeks and you hated yourself for it. The last thing you wanted to do in front of Carlos was cry, but it seemed like your heart disagreed.

“I don’t know what you want from me.” You said, quietly. “You’ve already had me and it wasn’t enough.”

“It was enough.” His voice was more forceful than you expected, making your stomach drop. “It is enough. The fault was never with you, it was me.”

“Cállate.” You shook your head. “Don’t do the it’s not you, it’s me bullshit.”

Carlos sucked his teeth in exasperation.

“You know I’ve always loved you, nena.” He said and it made you look up.

Love? For a moment, your heart stopped beating in your chest as hope flared in every crevice of your body. But you reeled it in just as quick, because if he called fucking and dumping love, then you were better off. You might’ve been damaged but you still recognised that you deserved better.

“I don’t know.” You set your jaw. “You have a funny way of showing it, if you do.”

He sat up in the ottoman, ignoring the groan of protest it gave under his weight. The both of you stared at each other for a second and it felt like the longest hour of your life.

“That night…” He began, trailing off like he wasn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. “Nena, I didn’t do anything that I regretted, and I still don’t. The only thing I regret is leaving you the way I did because you deserve so much better.”

Something wet touched your throat and you hurried to wipe at it, realising that tears were still rolling down your face. It irked you.

Carlos sighed heavily, like the conversation was too much to bear and you agreed with that sentiment, for once.

“Then why did you? Leave?” Your voice was quiet, broken and you hated the sound of it.

Carlos pulled a small face like it pained him to hear you so broken down, and it sent a small zip of satisfaction through you. You wanted him to hurt like you’d hurt.

“Because I was scared.” He confessed. “I was scared about everything. Your brother, this new life that I got pushed into. It was too much and I was panicking that night. I just wanted to feel normal again.”

“So… you slept with me and left?” You laughed bitterly.

Carlos cut you a stern look that still, to this day, shut you right up. He’d always had the face for it, the round and wide dark eyes and the bushy eyebrows. He could look intimidating when he wanted to, not that he ever scared you but you knew when to shut up.

“No. I sought you out because you were the only person who feels safe, who feels like home.”

He said feels. Not felt. So did that mean you still felt like home to him? You weren’t sure what to think or believe, feeling nauseous and lost all of a sudden.

“I realise that I went about it completely wrong.” He continued when you still hadn’t spoken. “I have a lot of regrets in my life, nena. But leaving you in my bed is the biggest of them all.”

The confession felt heavy, riddled with underlying emotions and confessions that you weren’t really ready to confront nor unpack. It was exhausting, all this new information invading your every sense and Carlos must’ve sensed how overwhelmed you’d suddenly become, because he palmed the tops of his thighs and sucked his teeth.

“Do you wanna get out for a bit?” He asked and you raised your eyebrows in slight bewilderment.

“It’s two in the morning.” You replied slowly and that prompted a smile from Carlos.

The sight of it was so unexpected and beautiful that it felt like a sucker punch, making you look away before you started staring.

“That never stopped you before.”

Before. Before when you’d sneak out of the house with your girlfriends to meet up with other friends and go to the most obscure parties. And Carlos would always be the one to catch you in the act, whenever he stayed over the house. He’d never berate or rat you out, just smirk and tell you to stay safe. To call if you ever needed him.

“Fine.” You relented, standing up and making your way over to the hallway. “Do you have a car?”

“Yeah, I parked it not too far from here.” He regarded you silently when you reached for your shoes, slipping them on. “Are you going to go out like that?”

It didn’t sound judgemental, only curious and that’s why you shot him an amused stare instead of picking up a fight out of annoyance.

“Yes.” You said, short and sweet.

He gave you a long stare before nodding, and that was that.

Fifteen minutes later and you were sitting in the passenger seat of a Ferrari, speeding down the deserted highway. There was no clear destination in either of your minds, but you cracked open the window and let the wind whip your hair, closing your eyes for a moment.

The radio was playing quietly in the background, almost drowned out by the roar of the engine, but it was comforting all the same.

Carlos hadn’t said a word since he started the car, only hitting you with a do you want seat warmers on? to which you’d shook your head. But he was good company, silent and comforting, just like he used to be.

“I love this song.” You said softly when the voices on the radio drifted off, the familiar tunes of Lovers Rock filling the relative silence.

Carlos didn’t say anything, just reached a hand out to turn the sound up a few bars, shooting you a glance that you felt in your core. It was amazing how he still made you feel like that, like someone had reached down your throat and fisted your heart violently. It was a sickening feeling, one that was so addicting and dangerous but you still yearned for it.

You were still mad at him, but you could also see a clearer picture now that he’d given you his side of the story and apologised. It wasn’t that you forgave him - that would take time - but you weren’t holding a grudge as strong like before.

It was hard though, to not acknowledge how he still made you feel like the wide eyed teenage girl who’d once saw the stars and moon in his dark eyes, who’d feel sick with love and admiration for him.

Because love can burn like a cigarette,

and leave you alone with nothing.

There was an irony to the lyrics, one that seemed to fit your current life like a glove. Carlos cleared his throat.

“Are you hungry?” He asked, breaking the silence.

Your stomach still felt unsettled from the drinks you’d had and from him showing up and upending your life, so you shook your head in the negative and turned your head to look at him.

“No, thank you.” You whispered.

Carlos didn’t take his eyes off the road and you took the chance to look at him, taking in the sharpness of his jaw and his strong nose. His hair was longer than last time you saw him, floppy and soft without any product in it and it should’ve annoyed you how beautiful he looked. Like something straight out of a romance movie.

There were a slight shadow under his eyes though, looking a lot like a person who carried the weight of the world on their shoulders and you fisted your hands in your lap to avoid reaching out to swipe a thumb over the bags of his eyes. You’d been so swept up in your anger that you’d failed to realise that Carlos was probably hurting just as much, he just couldn’t show it or self-destruct.

“Estás mirando, nena.” His voice, paired with the pull of his mouth made you look away.

Warmth spread all over your body when you realised that you’d been caught staring, for far too long to play it off.

“Where are we going?” You asked, in desperate need to change the subject and Carlos noticed it, because his nose flared as he tugged his bottom lip between his teeth; Like he was trying to hold his smile off.

“La playa.” He said.

The air had chilled considerably when you stepped out of the car, the wind whipping your bare legs and you pulled your sweater over your hands to find some comforting warmth as you gazed out over the beach.

It was dark, completely deserted even by the boardwalk and it was perfect for you, not in the mood to run into anyone who might know the man who was currently walking a few steps behind you.

The sand found its way into your shoes but you paid it little to no mind as you hurried your steps to the shoreline, far enough that the water wouldn't reach you, but close enough to hear the ominuous sounds of crashing waves.

"It's cold." Carlos said and you turned around, taking in the scrunch of his nose as he glanced around.

"Es perfecto." You said, waiting until Carlos looked over at you to give him a tentative smile. There was something in his face that changed at the sight of your open and vulnerable expression, but you didn't stop to think too hard on it.

Instead, you reached for your oversized sweater and pulled it clean off your head, ignoring Carlos' sounds of mortified and confused protest. His voice climbed in octaves when you kicked your shorts off, toeing your shoes away before you began walking backwards toward the ocean.

"Ay, what are you doing?" He asked, taking a step forward like he wanted to stop you. "You're gonna get sick!"

You ignored him, only breaking eye contact when the current carried up the shore, frothy water licking your calves and it was so cold that you felt it in your entire being. A sharp gasp left your lips, but you were determined to get a dip in just to clear your head.

It had been a long night, and getting sick was the last thing on your mind as water enveloped you.

Carlos watched silently, though his heart was pounding against his ribcage whenever he lost sight of you for a mere second. You'd always emerge from the water, smiling like you were in your own world and that's probably what stopped him from stalking right over and yank you out of the bed of water.

You looked so free, the complete opposite of how you'd looked the entire night and he selfishly didn't want that look on your face to diminish. Granted, you weren't smiling out of joy nor were you directing it at him, but the burden on your shoulders looked a little lighter when you finally started walking out of the water.

He tried hard not to stare at your body, the skimpy lingerie doing absolutely nothing to hide the most private parts of you. Carlos didn't know if he was just imagining things, but you'd truly grown into yourself since he last saw you.

You were shivering when you reached him, arms embracing your upper body like they were going to provide the warmth you needed to not send yourself into shock. He shrugged his jacket off without thinking when you hurriedly redressed in your sweater, water still dripping down your hair and body.

Carlos was ever the worrier, sitting you down on the sand and draping his jacket around your shoulder. You didn't protest, happily accepting it with a stuttered thank you that had his chest squeezing.

"You've always been good at surprising me." Carlos said when a few minutes had passed. He smiled when you gazed at him, trying not to react when you shifted and accidentally bumped your thigh against his.

You pulled away slightly, looking out into the darkness.

"How long are you staying?" You asked, quietly and slowly like you weren't sure if you wanted to hear the answer.

You knew realistically that he couldn't stay, he wouldn't. Carlos had a whole other life to live and a job to tend to, but you'd foolishly believed that maybe he'd stick around.

Carlos had a crease between his eyebrows that told you otherwise though, and you knew what was coming out of his mouth before he even said the words.

"Two days." He replied quietly, the sound almost getting swallowed up by the rushing waves in the distance. "I'm supposed to be in Italy by now but I wanted to see you."

You smiled despite yourself, a small graze of the lips that had Carlos inhale through his nose.

"I'm glad you came." You confessed out loud, the very same words you'd been scared to utter for the past hour.

Now they were out in the open, and Carlos was staring at the side of your head like he'd maybe heard wrong.

"Me too." He said softly, watching you shift as a breeze blew by.

Your thigh grazed his and this time, you didn't move away, letting the warmth of your flesh seep through his jeans.

"I'm sorry for everything." Carlos pulled a leg up to rest his cheek on the knee, head turned towards you. "I wish I could take it all back."

"I know." You said quietly.

You looked at each other in silence and you took in the slope of his nose and the tanned skin. The apples of his cheeks were a little sunburnt, lips dry but oh so full and inviting. You stared at them, thinking back to how they'd tasted that one fateful night.

Carlos cheeks went a little pink at your scrutiny and you quickly looked away, feeling yourself flush warmth all over at being caught staring so obviously.

"Come with me." He said and you blinked, confusion marring your face when you turned back to look at him. "To Italy. Just to get away for a bit. You can meet my friends and watch me race."

You hesitated, feeling lost all of a sudden because you weren't sure if you were ready for it yet. But a small part of you wanted to go with him, to let go of this life of destruction you'd managed to envelop yourself in.

Carlos hesitantly touched your hand that you had in your lap, fingertips against the palm of your hand and that one small touch was so electrifying that you filled your belly with air, holding your breath until it hurt your chest before exhaling.

"Charles has a girlfriend who I think you'd get along with well. She’s very much like you." He continued, sounding an awful lot like a salesman and it made you smile. “You’d love her, I think.”

You didn't know who Charles was, but the name rang a bell and you took a shot in the dark that it was his teammate.

"I probably would." You replied slowly and Carlos pinched eyebrows relaxed a tad bit when you finally broke your silence, like your silence had built some anxiety. "Can I think on it? I just —"

"Yes." He interrupted you, like he completely understood. "You don't have to explain yourself. I'll be around for two more days so you can take your time."

You thought about your brother, wondering if he knew what had spiralled that night before Carlos left to start his career. Did he have a hunch or did Carlos tell him? All you really knew was that your brother had flown out plenty of times to attend races, so you knew that they were still in contact, and by the looks of it, good friends. He’d invited you along the first few times, only stopping when your polite no’s had turned into snapping.

“What are you thinking about?” Carlos voice brought you out of your thoughts and you realised he’d been looking at your face the entire time, trying to read your thoughts when your eyebrows furrowed.

“Does he know?” You asked and Carlos looked confused for exactly two seconds before his eyebrows smoothed out, a humourless smile twitching his lip as he gazed out at the ocean in front of you.

He pulled up both legs, resting his forearms on his knees and clutching his hands together.

“Yes.” He said and your stomach dropped a little. “He came to a race in Miami a year ago and I felt… guilty. He was talking about how you should come to a race sometime and how concerned he was for you.”

Your eyebrows jumped. Your brother knew. How much did he know? He hadn’t even brought it up with you, not once.

“I told him.” He let out a laugh with no real joy behind it. “He punched me, called me a motherfucker and left.”

Your mouth gaped open as you took in the new information, eyebrows raised so high that you were scared they’d get stuck in your hairline but you couldn’t bring yourself to relax.

You had never really been that close to your brother, close enough to spend some time in the same circle of friends whenever it was called for but you weren’t sit down and talk about your feelings close. It shouldn’t have surprised you that he hadn’t reached out to you and spoke to you about how you’d fucked his best friend, but he hadn’t treated you any different the past year. He still called and texted to check on you, expressing his worry whenever you gave him the old I’m fine reply. Now you knew why he’d been so gentle with you.

“I deserved it.” Carlos said after a stretch of silence, looking at you.

It made you sad for him then, and a little ashamed of yourself that you’d never stopped to consider how Carlos had felt in all of this. You’d always thought that he ran because he couldn’t deal with turning you down gently, but looking at him now? He was clearly struggling as well.

“You didn’t.” You said and Carlos pulled a face like he didn’t believe you. “I’m just a little horrified that my brother knows I slept with his best friend.”

The both of you smiled at each other.

“It’s not his business, anyway.” Carlos said, leaning his weight to one side so he could bump his shoulder against yours. “Just you and me, ¿verdad?”

“Sí.” You smiled like the words he was saying didn’t turn your stomach inside out.

Carlos looked straight ahead, and you scooted closer to him with a shiver, still cold and wet. He didn’t even hesitate to put his arm around you when your sides pressed together, leaning your head against his shoulder and basking in his warmth when a breeze blew by.

Your stomach was doing somersaults, twisting with nerves and a sense of giddiness and you really hoped that he couldn’t hear the harsh pound of your heart against your rib cage when he turned his head to press a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Te amo, nena.” He whispered, faint and intimate but it still felt like he’d reached into your bones and rattled them with a violent shake.

Hearing the quiet love confession come from his mouth stunned you, hope blooming in your chest as you picked your head up to take a look at his face. He was close, so close, and the inviting pout of his lips made it all the more difficult to resist pressing your lips against them.

Carlos inhaled sharply through his nose when you grazed your lips against his, a whisper of a touch that electrified you to the core. The arm around you tightened, pressing you closer as your noses brushed.

“Kiss me.” You whispered and Carlos did exactly that.

The press of his lips made you warm all over, hands coming up to clutch his hoodie when he pried your lips open; the touch of tongues making you push harder. It felt a lot like coming home, like universe had aligned itself, and you basked in the feeling of it all.

“Nena.” Carlos murmured when the kiss reached its end, lips touching yours as he spoke. He pushed his forehead to yours, eyelashes laying so pretty on the tops of his cheeks as he closed his eyelids. “I want you, I’ve wanted you for years. But maybe we should take things slow.”

You nodded, though you couldn’t resist stealing another kiss that he was all too eager to respond to. A groan rumbled in his chest when you placed both hands on his wide shoulders, letting him guide you to lay down on the sand.

It wasn’t as dark as it had been when you first arrived, but the faint light cast an almost beautiful shadow to his face as he hovered above you. His eyes were dark pools, staring into yours while his hand brushed wet strands of hair from your face. He crooked them behind your ear, cupping your cheek to bring you up for another kiss that had you whimpering for more.

Take things slow. Wasn’t two years enough? How much longer were you supposed to wait?

Carlos must’ve shared that sentiment, trailing his lips down your jaw to your throat in sucking kisses. He licked your skin, tongue warm against your flesh as he tasted the saltwater and you squirmed at the touch.

“Need you, Carlos.” You murmured when he pulled away.

He laughed breathlessly like he couldn’t believe the words you were saying, a hand travelling down your body with his eyes fastened on yours. You didn’t even dare to blink, staring at him until his hand found its way into your shorts and underwear, brushing his finger against your clit. Your eyelids fluttered shut, mouth going slack when he swiped his fingers through the mess of wet, bringing them back to circle your clit.

You grabbed him with terse hands, gasping and moaning while he brought you to a quick climax. It was sudden and fast, absolutely earth shattering when you climbed up to the edge and toppled right over. Carlos silenced your moans with his mouth, not kissing, just slotted over yours as he stole your breath and sounds.

“You sound beautiful, nena.” He murmured, fingertip nudging your sensitive clit just to see the way your mouth dropped open in a shivered gasp. “Missed that look on your face.”

“Carlos.” Your voice sounded pleading, hand sliding to the back of his head to bury your fingers in his hair. “Want you right now. Please.”

He let out a shuddered breath, pulling his hand out of your shorts to unbutton his jeans and zip them down far enough to fish himself out. You struggled to not stare down between the two of you as you kicked your shorts and panties off, marvelling in the sounds he made as he spit in his hand and jacked himself off; slicking himself up generously.

There was a moment where you looked at each other, unblinking and silent. His cock slid against you, slicking himself up further before his head caught where you were clenching in anticipation. It was stupid and reckless, to not use protection and to even do it so publicly but you needed him.

You couldn’t wait for another hour, and neither could he, judging by the way he slid inside with a gasped breath. Your eyes clenched shut as the intrusion locked your body up, finding comfort in his hands as he brushed your face and pressed kisses to it. You relaxed, feeling the girth of him stretching you out the further he pushed inside.

It had been a while since someone had stretched you to your limits like he currently was, but you were eager to feel every inch of him and you made it clear by wrapping your arms around him, spreading your legs further like an invitation.

Carlos let out a breathless laugh, pushing his lips against yours in a loving kiss and you lost yourself in it as he began thrusting. He hit you deep, kissed your spot with the head of his cock and the coarse hair of his groin rubbed deliciously against your clit.

It wasn’t romantic, not something you’d see in movies, but it was intimate and perfect for you. He conveyed so much in the movement of his hips, eyes stuck on you like he didn’t dare to look away in fear of missing every twitch and movement of your face.

You got a hand between the two of you, moaning and gasping when your second orgasm crept up on you. It made your head spin, how fast you’d been brought to the edge yet again and you clenched around him, screaming out your climax. Carlos wasn’t far behind, all kinds of curses streaming from his lips as he pulled out and came on your lower abdomen.

The stark contrast of his warmth against your cool skin made you shiver, still struggling to come down from your high. Carlos let out a drawn out groan that screamed of sudden exhaustion, grabbing the sleeve of his jacket to wipe the come off your skin before he dropped down; Half on top of you and half on the sand.

“Where are you staying?” You asked, voice a little raspy from how dry your throat was.

“My parents house.” He replied, eyes taking in the slope of your nose and the pout of your bitten raw lips.

You turned your head to smile at him, eyes fluttering as he pushed forward to kiss your mouth.

“You can stay with me.” Your voice was timid, a little shy and it made Carlos smile.

“Bueno.”

Carlos’ hand found your collarbone, stroking the pads of his fingers against the raised bone. His eyes caught on the glimmering necklace around your throat, heart stopping for a split second when the pendant caught the light and he realised what he was looking at.

The number 55 was staring up at him, so small but so glaringly obvious that he wondered how he’d failed to notice it.

You must’ve sensed his body language shift, eyes flicking over his face where it remained unmoving.

“I wanted to keep you close to my heart.” You whispered and it was like gospel to Carlos’ ears. “I never stopped loving you.”

His eyes flicked up to yours, face softening even more.

“Neither did I.”

He thought of the years he’d lived through without you, thinking of the missed time and opportunity he could’ve had with you if he had just picked up the phone. But it didn’t matter now.

Carlos gazed at your face, at the stars reflected in your eyes, and made a vow to himself to never let you slip away again.

#carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x female reader #carlos sainz jr x female reader #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz fic #f1 fluff #f1 smut #f1 fic #carlos sainz angst

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ozzgin · 3 months

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Heyyy just checked your masterlist and saw that despite you being into obey me! fandom, you don't have a fic. I'm married to Solomon in my mind so how about a situation where the reader (fem or gn your pick) is equally in love with this old man and begs him to recreate that time potion which made him immortal. Oh? Did i mention i want him to be a yandere? Please do that as well ^^

I love me my morally grey wizard ;)

I have 3 unfinished drafts for Diavolo, Barbatos and Satan on my Wattpad, but it was around the time I started getting Baki related requests here so I haven’t had the time to continue them. This goes for everyone reading, if you see a fandom title with no works you can always request something! :) This blog is only a few months old and I wasn’t writing much before (twice or thrice a year if I was generously inspired), so the variety is rather limited still. (I also finish requests at the pace of a snail, sorry about that)

Yandere! Solomon x Reader Headcanons

Featuring your fellow human classmate and now soon-to-be husband who couldn’t be happier about your wish to spend an eternity with him.

Content: gender neutral reader, obsessive behavior

It started rather subtle. Just idle curiosity at first, a mere feigned surprise that was quickly swept aside for more important matters. Sure, Diavolo bringing another fellow human to the Devildom, especially one without any powers, was at least mildly intriguing. Your situation was as tempting as a puzzle to fiddle with in between tasks. Beyond polite offers to help you handle the new challenging environment, Solomon was not planning on prying further. Then the surprises begun to queue one after another. To think that you had barely learned your way around and somehow still forged a contract with one of the devilish siblings. Then another. And another. Fascination crept its way in and the greatest sorcerer found himself begging to learn more about the mysterious (Y/N).

Naturally such fascination should’ve had an intellectual grounding and nothing more. What is it about you that has caused such a ruckus across RAD? All he needed was an answer. Yet he discovered much too late how embarrassingly involved he’d become. Childishly clutching his D.D.D. in the middle of the night, wondering if you’ve already fallen asleep, and grinning when the screen lit up with a response from you. Cancelling all plans the instant you’d ask - casually - if he wanted to join you after class to check out a new café. No, of course he had nothing else to do. Yes, it’s definitely a lucky coincidence that he’s always available when you want to hang out with him.

Once he accepted he was madly in love with you, he began fretting over all possible obstacles. The demon brothers, life after RAD. He’d never engaged much with other humans and his charisma only covered superficial pleasantries. How was he to properly convey that he’s - mildly put - obsessed with you to the point where rejection won’t be taken lightly? Uh oh. Closer to a threat than a confession. Thankfully the Heavens were gracious and you immediately returned his affections. No need for potions or hexes (not that he would’ve…he had them prepared just in case). He remembers it to this day, years after, the wide, innocent smile that you so generously bestowed upon him. Almost like a premonition, he knew you’d be the person to marry. Something he never considered in his long, lonely life.

You lazily lift your hand and admire the ring again. Solomon is quite clumsy and forgetful, but he goes all out for the things that matter. The proposal had been planned to a dizzying amount of detail and you couldn’t believe how much thought he put into it, with many aspects you otherwise assumed he’d forget or omit. Yet staring at the intricately carved band adorning your finger now, you can’t help the pang of melancholy blooming in your chest. Solomon lifts his gaze from the book he’s reading, sensing your discomfort. “Something bothering you?” He inquires with a hint of worry in his voice. “What happens after the wedding?” You demand, turning to face him. “Oh my. I personally prefer to focus on the present.” He answers with a chuckle. “Sure, because you don’t have to worry about your future. It’s mine that will end at some point.” His eyes widen and his hands are suddenly cold. He’s been so entranced by your company that he didn’t even entertain the idea of a potential end to it. He almost strokes his cheek to soothe the hard slap of your words, leaving him in a frightened stupor.

Oh no. No, no, no. Within the blink of an eye he finds himself standing before the alchemy shelves, rattling the bottles for the right ingredients. You didn’t even need to mutter a word. He knew exactly what you’re thinking of. How shameful of him to have caused you this distress in the first place. You’re young, and time for him has lost its human meaning, so your mortality hadn’t crossed his mind this entire time. He would’ve found a solution for it later, most certainly, but he didn’t expect this postponement to make you so anxious. His lips are quivering and his slender fingers are visibly trembling. Partly from the fear of almost failing you as your future husband, partly from the excitement of what’s about to come. He always imagined there’d be nothing more beautiful and precious to witness than you in your wedding attire as you tie the knot. But now? Oh, how ravishingly tempting and seducing, the fact that he can listen to the mundanely repeated words of “Til death do us part” and stare down its meaning until there’s nothing left of it. Not quite. Not for you two. The veil will be lifted and your face will radiate eternity.

After all, nothing will stand between him and his fated soulmate. What’s death to a wizard of his caliber?

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #yandere obey me #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #solomon x mc #yandere headcanons #yandere x reader #gender neutral reader #gn reader

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fyodorloveclub · 9 months

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toji x afab reader, 18+ minors dni!! breeding kink, pregnancy kink, slight size kink (big dick toji yet again), daddy kink, lots of pet names, a bit cheesy at the end, 1.3k words

“Hello? Toji, my love? You there?” you laughed, waving a hand in his face. Currently sitting at the kitchen table eating dinner together, your lover had suddenly fallen into a daze, tapping out of the casual conversation the two of you had been having as he stared into the distance.

“Oh, uh- yeah,” he stuttered, shaking his head. “What were we talking about again?”

Toji had been in a… funk all day. Ever since the two of you had been out running errands earlier that afternoon and had somehow continuously run into baby after baby.

In the grocery store, as you parsed through the avocados to determine the most appropriately ripe ones, one baby in a carrier and one held on one hip by its mother walked past, both giggling and flashing toothless smiles at him. He was enamored.

The way their chubby limbs flailed spastically as they were discovering how their bodies worked, the little bald spots that decorated their fuzzy heads, the cute matching outfits the moms had dressed them in… suddenly all of it was getting to Toji. He had always figured he’d wanted a family at some point, but the timing never felt right - he never felt ready. But now he wanted it.

Not only did he want to experience taking care of his own little one, but he really, really wanted to get you pregnant. The thought of filling you with his seed and spending the better part of a year growing his child was driving Toji fucking crazy. Seeing your stomach swell and slowly grow out of your clothes, or you waddling down the hallway, supporting the small of your back with one hand and the underside of your large belly with the other… That’s what was on Toji’s mind, instead of the mundane dinner conversation he should’ve been engaging in. He couldn’t help it though.

“What’s going through your mind, babe?” you asked, taking another bite of rice.

“Honestly?”

“I guess…”

“Getting you pregnant. Having babies. You and I starting a family,” he admitted plainly.

“Oh?” you questioned, raising a brow. “This is the first I’m hearing of this.” You couldn’t help but agree that it sounded enticing.

He smirked. “Just can’t help but daydream about how fucking sexy you’d look like that. Carrying my baby.”

Your hand instinctively came to rest on your stomach - now he had you thinking about it too. It would be a lie to say the idea didn’t make you a little nervous though, it was all so sudden. But suddenly Toji was rising from his chair and leaning on the table, towering over you with a wild look in his emerald eyes and a bulge in his pants.

“I say we go for it,” he smirked.

“Toji, I… I- let’s think on this, okay? This feels really impulsive - we’ve never talked about this before and-”

Your sentence remained forever unfinished as he scooped you out of his chair with his profuse strength and threw you onto your shared bed, the scar that ran through the corner of his lips warping as he smiled and ogled you with fire in his eyes.

Everything was a blur as he haphazardly stripped you of both your bottoms and pressed your knees all the way to your shoulders in a deep mating press, breathing hotly into your neck as his throbbing cock dragged slowly between your lips, gathering your slick before the head prodded at your hole.

“Toji,” you whined, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Call me Daddy tonight,” he whispered directly into your ear before sinking into your tight cunt.

“Oh god!” you cried out, throwing your head back against the pillow and keened as he immediately bottomed out. His impossibly thick cock stretched you and filled you so wide it felt like he was gonna split you in two. Toji, aware of his size, never fucked you with so little foreplay, but he seemed to be in some sort of trance tonight, that made every ounce of his self-control dissipate into thin air.

“Gonna pump you so full of my cum your womb can’t do anything but get pregnant,” he growled as he picked up a rhythm, balls slapping hard against your ass as he fucked you hard and deep. So deep he kissed your cervix with every thrust, pulling involuntary gasps and moans every single time.

“Toj- Daddy,” you corrected yourself. “Please, need it,” you whimpered. It seemed he’d infected you with his desire to breed.

With every passing minute, the idea of getting pregnant was becoming more and more appealing. Of carrying your lover’s babies, being nothing more than a vessel for his seed and to provide him with kids.

To be doted on and pampered endlessly for nine whole months as you glowed and sported a prominent baby bump, one that caught stares and admiration from friends, family, and strangers alike. Symptoms be damned, you couldn’t help but think, no, know, you’d absolutely love being pregnant. Especially by Toji.

And to have a baby the two of you made together, seeing Toji become the amazing dad you knew he could be, was beginning to sound beautiful.

You pulled him in for a messy kiss as he fucked you with so much desperation it felt like your first time again, all teeth and tongue as both of you panted and groaned.

“Fill me up, Daddy, get me pregnant, give us a baby,” you gasped, gripping the underside of your knees and angling your hips to try and grant him the best access possible. To allow him to reach so deep inside you his cum shot directly into your womb.

“Gonna cum any second, baby, give you just what you want,” he smiled, voice breathy and gravelly.

His large hand came to rest on your tummy, rubbing the soft skin and imagining it swollen and full of his baby. Riddled with stretch marks, but so, so beautiful anyway. The thought had him cumming hard, face buried into your neck as he released a full load inside your throbbing cunt. You could feel the hard protrusions of his hip bones as he pressed himself as deep inside you as possible.

“Did so good for me, beautiful,” he smiled, beads of sweat trickling down his face. “God, I love you.”

“Love you so, so much, Toji,” you whined, on the verge of tears. “Wanna have a family with you, keep you around forever.” Your shaky arms wrapped around his neck again to pull him in for a hug, and he laughed as he reciprocated holding you close to his chest.

“Not going anywhere without you, my love,” he mumbled.

“Come lay down now, spoon me, yeah?” you smiled.

“Wait… don’t tell me you thought we were done…” he said, furrowing his brow. “Babies are rarely made with only one round.”

#toji x reader #toji smut #jjk smut #toji fushiguro x reader #jjk x reader

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jishyucks · 5 months

Text

Candy Cane Delays — lmk

‣ pairing: mark lee x reader

‣ genre: fluff, implied friends-to-lovers, classmates au

‣ wc: 3k

‣ summary: Sure, it was disheartening seeing everyone receive a holiday candy gram but you, especially when you’re the one in charge of selling them at lunch. But don't worry, yours is on the way. He’s just… running a bit late.

‣ warnings: nothing i think,, reader’s kinda annoying about not getting a holiday candy gram but honestly same

‣ an: first part of my True Love Gave to Me Series YAY! Hopefully my writing’s good enough and this is somewhat cute bc I thought the idea was adorable,,, it honestly would’ve been longer and more detailed if I didn’t have 11 other mini fics to write but PLS ENJOYYY

Series Masterlist

Every year for the past 3 years, you've been in charge of selling the holiday candy grams for the winter dance.

And every year for those same 3 years, you’ve never, not even once, received a single candy gram.

Sure, your best friend Yeri always offered to get you one for fun, but you told her off, cause in your mind it didn’t count when they tell you they’ll be getting you one. You wanted to receive one the good ‘ol traditional way—you wanted to be surprised.

But whatever you wished, you never received.

And that was okay.

Because there came a point where you accepted the fact that you would probably never get one. It was a bit depressing (and maybe a tad embarrassing), but you simply chose to never get your hopes up every year just to be let down at the end. And though it was initially pretty easy ignoring this conclusion, it simply did not help that you were always put in charge of selling the damn grams.

Every lunch period, you sit behind a table, a poster board with the words ‘PURCHASE YOUR HOLIDAY CANDY GRAMS FOR WINTER DANCE HERE!’ taped at its edge. You wait for students to approach you with pocket money, then you slide them as many candy grams as they pay for. Once they’ve finished filling out the slips of paper, you take the sheets back and begin preparing them by taping candy canes the school bought from the local dollar store.

It was a routine you have gotten used to, and you don't expect to see any changes happening any time soon.

“Can I have three, please?”

You look up from your pile of candy canes to see your classmate, Jaemin, who’s blinking back at you with a wide smile. You nod and hold your hand out for him to drop his coins in. They land with a muted clunk noise before you drop them into the big metal bank you had pushed to the side.

“Here you go,” you grin back, sliding three slips of paper toward the boy. He thanks you before turning to a nearby table and you’re left to turn back to the unfinished candy grams sitting in front of you.

The time that lights up on the screen on your phone tells you that you need to start cleaning up soon so that you’re able to drop the candy grams off to the students distributing them for the day. Relief washes over you as you complete the remaining grams, just in time for Jaemin to return, gripping folded slips of paper in his fingers.

“Thank you,” Jaemin says, handing them to you, “I’ll see you in class, Y/N!”

“See you, Jaemin,” you reply. And you quickly finish the last three before you start cleaning up.

You place the empty candy grams on top of the earned money before locking the box. When you stand up, the chair makes an unpleasant noise against the floor and you cringe slightly. Rounding the table, you move the chair along with you, placing it on top and upside down for tomorrow’s use.

“Am I too late?”

Another person's sudden presence startles you, making you realize that you've been too absorbed in your tasks to notice the approaching footsteps.

You turn to friend and classmate, Mark, who’s out of breath and sweating from practically every gland of his body. He’s bent over with his hands on his knees and he’s trying to catch his breath. His glasses are slipping down the bridge of nose, but he quickly catches it with the tip of his index finger.

You can’t help but let out a laugh, “Ah, Mark… you’re late…” You pick up the bag of candy canes and sigh, “Again.”

A sense of déjà vu washes over you. This exact occurrence has been happening for a week straight now and you’re trying to figure out how Mark even manages to pull the same thing each day. It was actually kind of cute, if you had to admit just once, and you’re admittedly curious as to what’s causing him to pull up to the table 30 seconds late.

“I think my phone’s clock is three minutes too fast,” Mark frowns, eyes round as he brings his phone’s screen up to his face.

You start walking down the hall and toward Mrs. Kim’s room, where everything was kept between days, “You do know that the clocks on our phones can’t be early, right?”

Mark nods, though you don’t see. He’s still trailing right behind you, even into the classroom, “I know, but I just needed to blame something.”

You two approach a closet at the corner of the classroom and you use a key to open it up. You place the things inside, making sure it’s neat and tidy and somewhere slightly hidden in case students decide to break in. You don’t mind Mark seeing where you hide it, though. You trust him.

The boy gulps before he goes to ask you a question, “Hey, for the Winter Dance—”

“How were the sales today, Y/N?”

Mark is interrupted by Mrs. Kim, who’s returning from her own lunch break. She glances at Mark and greets him at the same time.

“I think today had the most sales so far,” you reply, “So it went well! Do you want me to leave the finished grams here? I already organized them by class.” Shutting the door, you lock the closet.

Mrs. Kim nods and makes room on her desk for the bag, “Yes please. Chenle and Jisung are coming in a bit to pick them up. Thanks for your help, Y/N.”

You bow your head and offer a smile before you turn to leave, Mark following not too far behind.

“What were you saying?” You look up at him, slowing your pace.

“Hm?” Mark’s head crooks to the side, “When?” Did he accidentally say something out loud?

“Before Mrs. Kim came in. You were saying something but I didn’t catch it.”

Mark’s heart skips a beat and his eyes widen. Lucky for him, you don’t notice, eyes dead set on your guys’ classroom, “Oh… uh–I forgot.” Mark knows damn well what he wanted to ask you. But the confidence he had built up at that moment dies along with his words and he figures that he’ll just try again another day. He tries his best to play it off, throwing in a sheepish laugh to spice it up, “But if it comes up again, I’ll make sure to say it.”

“You’re young and you’re already forgetful,” you joke, rolling your eyes playfully, “But okay, fine by me.” You turn to sit at your desk, seeing that Yeri’s already at her’s, but you stop yourself and turn back to Mark, “Are you going to be late tomorrow, again?”

Mark feels his cheeks heat up and his head lowers in embarrassment, “I’ll try not to.”

You let out a snort and nod, this time actually heading to your seat.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

When Chenle and Jisung come around to hand out the candy grams, students around you perk up in anticipation of receiving one. Yeri nudges your arm when the boys start passing them out, plopping the very same candy grams you finished at lunch.

“Brighten up, you might get one today,” she whispers. Her eyes follow Chenle, who’s approaching the both of you.

“I know I’m not getting one, Yers,” you shake your head, “I made them.”

“Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t get one,” she groans, “Maybe you’re not getting one because you’re being a Negative Nancy.”

“Please never say that again,” you narrow your eyes at her.

And when Chenle and Jisung start making their way toward the door and your desk is still empty, you turn to give Yeri a I told you so look.

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

Mark’s leg bounces out of anticipation as his eyes wander off to the clock hanging crookedly at the other corner of the room. He has 5 minutes to get up and leave and make it to the candy gram booth. But with the way Renjun was going on and on about an excerpt he had written for this week’s writing club meeting, Mark feels like he’s barely going to make it again.

For some reason, the hormones in his body are causing his heart to knock against his chest repeatedly. He can hear it pounding in his ears, practically drowning out Renjun’s voice.

Sure buying those candy grams didn’t seem like that big of a deal to anyone else in the group, but to Mark, it was part of a plan he’s had written down in the notes app of his phone since November—asking you out to the winter dance through a gram. Mark knows that he can’t trust himself when it comes to verbally asking you. So a candy gram should do it (yes, he’s aware that’s a little bit dumb but it’s the thought that counts).

The second that Renjun concludes his piece, Mark is up and out of the room, putting his chair in its rightful place behind a desk. He’s practically sprinting down the hall, slowing down into a walking pace when he passes by doors just so he wouldn’t be stopped and delayed for longer if a teacher had caught him running down the hall like some delinquent.

He can see the intersection of the hallway where you always set the table up and he books it, the single strap of his backpack hanging on for dear life.

“Am I late?”

Mark stands in front of you, hands on his knees and he’s panting. It was the same exact scene as yesterday. “Please tell me I’m not.”

You frown, glancing at the table you had just pushed up against the wall, “Sorry, Mark.”

He groans, “I need to start leaving earlier.” Mark begins to trail you from behind, feet heavy from missing the candy grams yet again.

“If it makes you feel any better, you have one more week,” you point out. Your arms wrap around the piggy bank and the coins jingle inside. Today was particularly more busy than the previous days. You question, “What do you even do over lunch?”

“I have clubs I go to,” Mark chews on his bottom lip, “It’s kind of stupid—”

“It’s not stupid if you enjoy it,” you shrug. He watches as you tuck the piggy bank and the extra candy canes at the back of the closet before shutting it, “And if you’re always running late you must actually enjoy them.”

“I guess so,” Mark says quietly. “I’ll come in time tomorrow.” He says this more for himself than for you.

You laugh, “We’ll see, Mark Lee.” Looking down at the bag of candy canes, you pull one out and hold it out to him, halting just outside of Mrs. Kim’s room, “I’ll give you one for free~”

Mark stops and blinks at the candy cane in your hand and he sighs. The candy canes weren’t even the reason why he desperately wanted to buy the grams. He can quite literally drop by the store on the way home and get a pack himself if he wanted.

Mark simply just wanted to get this plan done and over with. He wants to know if you’re going to reject him or if you’re going to say yes. But because this was being drawn out like some imperfect line across a ridiculously long page, he’s not going to know until he gets his hands on one of the candy grams.

But still, Mark lets himself smile at the gesture, hand grazing yours as he takes it, “Thanks, Y/N.”

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ⁺₊❆⋆

For the next week, Mark (unsurprisingly) arrives late. He catches you either already cleaning the table up or already walking down to Mrs. Kim’s classroom to store the things. And everytime he does come late, Mark wants to beat himself up for it.

But on the last day, you’re caught by surprise when Mark approaches you in the middle of setting up the booth. For once he isn’t out of breath, and he’s not sweating and hunched over. It was a refreshing sight—amusing, even. The effort this boy was putting into holiday candy grams was endearing and you hope that the people he’s sending his grams to know it.

“First one here,” you giggle, “How many do you want?”

“Seven,” Mark shoots, “Please.”

“Seven’s a lot,” You nod, sliding the seven slips of paper before you retrieve the money from him, “Do you know what to do?”

“Um… just got a lot of people I care about,” Mark retorts. He grabs the slips of paper, a sigh of relief slipping out of his lips, “Thank you.”

Mark disappears for a good while, though you can see him bent over a table across the hall, scribbling into the blanks like he was supposed to. He looked rather focused, mouthing the small messages he’s leaving on the candy grams. A small part of you is nosy, wanting to know who he’s sending these candy grams to and what messages he’s writing so intently.

Once he’s finished, Mark returns to the table, placing the candy grams on the table in front of you, “Thanks, Y/N… I can’t talk right now—I do want to catch up with my club—but I’ll talk to you later?”

You smile gently, taking the filled out candy grams, “Of course. I’m just glad you were able to actually get these today.”

“Believe me, I am too,” Mark sends a warm smile before he bids you goodbye.

You huff and begin prepping the 7 candy canes for Mark’s seven candy grams. You go ahead and rip 7, inch-long, pieces of tape for each one and start your routine, taping each candy cane to each sheet of paper.

“Last one,” you mutter to yourself, taking the 7th candy cane between your fingertips.

When you go to grab the last slip of paper, you’re sent into a brief state of confusion when you don’t actually find a seventh slip. Your brows furrow and you let out an audible ‘huh?’ as you try to search your proximity for that last candy gram.

Did you miscount? Or did Mark just not use it? He could have gotten a refund if he wasn’t going to use it… Why didn’t he tell you anything?

After thinking hard on it, you let the problem go for now, making a small reminder to yourself to ask Mark about it later.

Chenle and Jisung come to your guys’ class just before the day ends and you would be lying if you said that you had just the slightest bit of hope that you’d receive one since it was the last day—cause surely, for the entire two weeks you’ve been out at lunch selling that damn things, you’d get one, right?

Sometimes, anticipation was a bitch. It was killing you watching Chenle and Jisung pull out each one from their shared bag, searching the room for the person receiving a damn gram before scurrying down the aisle of desks and plopping it down gently. With each one they would quietly say a ‘for you’ before turning back to the bag to grab the next one.

Hope was a bitch, too.

“Once again, sorry for interrupting,” Chenle apologizes to your teacher before dragging Jisung out of the room.

Just as they slip out of the classroom, the bell rings and you don’t find the energy to stand up just yet, eyes staring blankly at your empty desk.

“You should have just let me get you one, Y/N,” Yeri frowns, rubbing the middle of your back for comfort. She knows exactly how you’re feeling right now, “Want me to treat you to ice cream later? Bubble tea? Anything?”

You shake your head and try to prop a smile on your face, “No, it’s fine, Yers. I just thought that…” Mark. “Nevermind… Let’s just go.”

You finally push yourself up from your desk and grab your belongings. You leave the room in a hurry, Yeri struggling to keep up with your quick movements.

From afar, right by your locker, you spot Mark standing there patiently with his hands buried deep into his pockets. And with the boring class you had just had and not receiving a candy gram yet again, you almost forgot that you had to ask Mark about the 7th gram—better yet—he was probably at your locker to tell you about it.

“Mark,” you greet. Your fingers start fiddling with your lock as you absentmindedly put in your combination, “I wanted to talk to you about the candy grams.”

“I was actually here for the same reason.” There’s a tone in Mark’s voice that catches you off guard. There’s a slight hint of uneasiness, “Um… and…”

“And?” Now he’s caught your attention. You don’t realize that Yeri’s standing by her own locker, trying to subtly listen in on the conversation.

“Wait–uh–let me start with the candy gram first because then it can play out, I guess?” Mark shakes his head at how awkward he’s being before pulling out that 7th slip of paper from his pocket, “I…” He goes to read it, taking in a deep breath, eyes scanning it before he hurriedly sticks it out to you, “I was supposed to hand this in earlier at lunch but I figured that since you, you know, were the one doing the candy grams, I didn’t want you seeing it at such an awkward time?”

You’re frozen in place, gently taking the candy gram. With your heart skipping beats and the butterflies suddenly erupting in your stomach, your eyes bulge out of your eyes as you read your name on the sheet in Mark’s handwriting. This was a candy gram for you. To you, From Mark. Your first ever candy gram and it was from Mark.

Your attention flies straight to the note in the given space beneath the To and the From.

Your heart skips another beat.

Winter Dance with me?

“I-I’m sorry there’s no candy cane with it or anything and I don’t have any chocolates or some present to give you and this is such a lame way to ask you to the dance I meant it to be a bit more romantic than this but—”

You cut off Mark’s rambling, “Yes.”

“W-what?”

“Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.”

taglist: @tytrackfebreze @lovesuhng @hoonieji @dinonuguaegi @niinjo (couldn't tag :(()

an: first part of my series YAY ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ meant to post it earlier but school and duties call rip,, i hope you enjoyed this! pls leave a like or rb if you enjoyed it and i wanna hear your thoughts on this;; it was the first one I wrote for this so I'm not sure if it's cute :( anyways THANKS FOR READING!

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galedekarios · 26 days

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this is a personal vent post so please let me just get it all out without trying to come at me lol:

so many ppl saying they respect larian's decision to peace out and not deal with hasbro/wotc, but i have to be honest, i don't respect them at all.

they are leaving a game behind that is unfinished and a narrative mess.

they leave a game behind where everyone paid the same amount of money for it, yet depending on which character you prefer, you get less content.

the disparity between everyone else and their writer's pet ast*rion is insane. he has a half to a third more content depending on which character you compare him to.

they leave behind a sparse act 2, which is already so barren compared to act 1 and all it had to offer. act 3 is a narrative mess and lacks structure.

they leave a game behind where they made promises a handful of weeks before release where they ought to have known that they, in fact, will not be delivering said promises: access to the upper city, consequences for playing certain races across the acts (playing a drow is going to be different in act 1 and gives you advantages vs act 3 where it would give you understandable disadvantages), etc etc etc.

they leave behind a game where content was cut from the companions to make it seem like the origins have something to offer when that system is barely able to compare what origin playthroughs offered in dos2 and it hurts the game and the experience (like tara being cut for companion gale).

they leave behind a game where they promised to much variety and proclaimed in panels from hell how they struggled to show the width and depth of the game, but really? it's about as deep as a puddle. a lot of the choices do not matter. kill ethel? nah, she's alive and well in the city. no sister hags to be angry here. give karlach no infernal iron and never talk to her at all? doesn't matter, she'll survive until the end of act 3 and will still call you her bff. dissuade gale to use the orb? we'll make sure he'll still offer 3 more times just in case. send yenna away from camp bc you don't want her there? doesn't matter, she'll stay. and yes, i'm aware these are all small things, but they are part of a larger problem. almost nothing you do truly matters to the point of where i just skip most things in act 1 and 2 now.

they leave behind a game that they promise to still patch, but some things have been broken since early access / release to the point of where i'm like i'm sorry, but your word that you will continue to patch things means about as much to me as all the other empty promises. the dialogue about morena dekarios is still broken and it's been over half a year now. the astral sea scene has low-res body textures for months. i know from mutuals who love minthara that her romance is still broken. and i could go on and on.

and what gets me the most about this is all is that they have learned nothing at all from dos2: act 3 of that game was so bugged and all over the place that i couldn't muster up the motivation to finish it the first time i played. they neglected a character to the point of where he could have been removed from the game or made a general hireling (beast).

those issues were at least attempted to be fixed in the definitive edition.

with swen saying that there will be no new content anymore and stating that both bg3 and its characters are now property of wotc/hasbro, it seems unlikely we'll even get an attempt of a fix.

so what this boils down to to me is just another game company not delivering on their promises after overselling their product and more or less abandoning it after a year to move onto the next big thing.

i don't think i can respect that ngl.

#vg: baldur's gate 3 #series: baldur's gate #text: personal #larian critical #bg3 critical

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rafesapologist · 1 month

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the setback ─ rafe cameron; part five

summary: it's been two years since your departure from the outer banks and rafe cameron has seemingly convinced himself that he can go on with his life as if you never happened, except now more than ever his addiction is at an all time high. whether he was snorting lines of cocaine at wild parties or drowning himself in alcohol to numb the pain, rafe couldn't escape the memories of you. despite his efforts to bury his feelings, your absence lingered like a shadow, haunting him at every turn. meanwhile, you've been navigating life outside the outer banks, trying to carve out a new path for yourself. but no matter how far you've traveled, the memories of rafe cameron still linger in your heart, leaving you with a sense of unfinished business. as you find yourself facing new challenges and opportunities, you can't help but wonder if fate will eventually bring you back to the place where it all began.

warnings: violence, swearing, angst

author's note: YOU'LL NEVER GET AWAY FROM THE SOUND OF THE WOMAN THAT LOVES YOU

Rafe's thoughts raced like a whirlwind, his mind a tumultuous sea of uncertainty and fear. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled over him like a heavy cloak, weighing him down with its suffocating presence.

As he paced the living room of Tannyhill, his footsteps echoing off the walls, Rafe's thoughts consumed him. The news of Sarah's return had rocked him to his core, sending shockwaves of panic and apprehension coursing through his veins.

But amidst the chaos of his thoughts, one question burned brighter than the rest: If Sarah was back, did that mean you were too?

The mere thought of seeing you again sent a shiver down Rafe's spine, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within him. On one hand, there was a part of him that longed to see you, to be near you once more. But on the other hand, there was a deep-seated fear that seeing you again would only reopen old wounds and dredge up painful memories he had long tried to bury.

Lost in his own mind, Rafe found himself biting at his fingernails, a nervous habit that betrayed the inner turmoil raging within him. He knew he needed to make a decision, to confront the reality of Sarah's return head-on. But as he grappled with the weight of uncertainty bearing down on him, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held in store for him, and whether he was truly prepared to face it.

As the fiery liquid burned its way down his throat, Rafe felt a momentary sense of relief wash over him, numbing the edges of his anxiety and uncertainty. The familiar sting of whiskey offered a temporary reprieve from the whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume him.

But as the alcohol spread warmth through his veins, Rafe couldn't shake the nagging feeling of unease that lingered just beneath the surface. The thought of you possibly being back on the island after two long years sent a shiver down his spine, stirring up a potent mix of longing and apprehension within him.

For so long, he had tried to push you out of his mind, to bury the memories of your time together deep within the recesses of his soul. But now, faced with the possibility of seeing you again, all those buried emotions threatened to rise to the surface once more, threatening to engulf him in a tidal wave of longing and regret. With a heavy sigh, Rafe set the bottle of whiskey back down on the coffee table, the liquid inside now significantly lower than before. He knew he couldn't drown out his nerves forever, couldn't outrun the inevitable confrontation that lay ahead.

With a sense of determination coursing through him, Rafe retrieved his phone from the coffee table and scrolled through his contacts until he found Barry's number. With a steady hand, he pressed the call button, the sound of the ringing tone echoing through the room.

After a few rings, Barry's voice crackled through the phone's speaker. "Countrt club, what's up?" he greeted, his tone laced with curiosity.

"Barry, it's Rafe," Rafe replied, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning within him. "I need to talk to you. Can I come over? I'll be there in the next 20 minutes."

Barry's response was immediate. "Yeah, sure, man. Everything alright?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.

Rafe hesitated for a moment, the weight of his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. But he quickly pushed aside his doubts and replied, "Yeah, everything's fine. I just need to talk. See you soon." With that, Rafe ended the call and pocketed his phone, his mind already racing with the myriad of thoughts and emotions that awaited him at Barry's trailer.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"You sure she's really back? She could just be messing with y'all."

"I don't know, Barry," Rafe replied, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "It just feels different this time. Sarah wouldn't come back for no reason."

Barry let out a dismissive snort, taking a drag from his cigarette before exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Ah, come on, Rafe, you know how she is. Always stirring up trouble just for the fun of it," he remarked, his tone casual despite the gravity of the situation.

"I don't think she's just messing around, Barry," Rafe insisted, his voice firm as he locked eyes with his friend. "There's something going on, and I need to find out what it is."

"I'm going to find out what Sarah's up to," he declared, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning within him. "I need to know why she's back and what she's after. And if it means going back to the Cut to find out, then so be it."

Barry raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "And what about Y/N?" he asked, his tone laced with curiosity. "You think she's back too?"

Rafe's jaw clenched at the mention of your name, a surge of emotion welling up inside him. He knew that seeing you again would reopen old wounds and dredge up painful memories, but he couldn't deny the pull you still had on him, even after all this time. Your name hung in the air like a weight, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting emotions within Rafe's chest. He couldn't help but remember the way your laughter had once filled the room, the warmth of your touch, the way your eyes had sparkled with joy whenever you looked at him. But along with those memories came a tidal wave of pain and regret. The memory of the morning you left, the words exchanged in hurt and frustration, haunted him like a ghost. He couldn't shake the feeling of loss that gnawed at his heart, the gaping void left in the wake of your departure.

But the reminder hit Rafe like a cold wave crashing over him, jolting him back to reality with brutal force. You were a Pogue, and he was a Kook. No matter how deeply he felt for you, no matter the memories they shared, the stark division between their worlds remained. It was a bitter pill to swallow, the reminder of the gaping chasm that separated them, not just in status but in perception and expectation. The societal barriers that dictated their paths seemed insurmountable at times, casting a shadow over any hope of reconciliation.

Rafe clenched his fists at his sides, a surge of frustration coursing through him. It wasn't fair, he thought bitterly. Why did your backgrounds have to dictate your guys' fate? Why couldn't you be free to love who you chose, regardless of the expectations placed upon you?

But deep down, Rafe knew the answer. The world you two lived in was rigid and unforgiving, its boundaries enforced with an iron grip. And try as he might to defy them, to bridge the gap between their worlds, the reality of their situation remained unchanged.

Rafe shook his head, an unhumored, bitter laugh escaping his lips as he replied to Barry, "Knowing her, she probably is. Once a Pogue, always a Pogue, right? Where one is, another is lingering."

Barry's smirk widened into a mischievous grin as he leaned forward, fixing Rafe with an intense gaze. Sensing Rafe's bitterness, he couldn't resist prodding him further.

"Why don't you go find out for yourself?" Barry suggested, his tone teasing but edged with a hint of challenge. He knew Rafe well enough to recognize that beneath the bitterness lay a curiosity, a desire to confront the past and whatever it might bring.

Rafe's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing slightly as he met Barry's gaze. The suggestion hung in the air between them, a silent dare to take action. Despite the uncertainty and trepidation swirling within him, Rafe couldn't deny the flicker of curiosity that sparked to life at Barry's words.

With a resigned sigh, Rafe nodded slowly, a determined glint in his eyes. He knew that Barry was right. It was time to stop dwelling on the past and start taking control of his own destiny. And if that meant facing you again, then so be it.

"Maybe I will," Rafe replied, his voice firm despite the lingering doubt in his heart. As he stood up from his seat, a sense of resolve settled over him. Whatever lay ahead, he would face it head-on.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

"This feels so weird," Kiara remarked, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she glanced around the dock, her arms folded across her chest.

You glanced over at Kiara, noticing the unease etched across her features, and stepped closer to her side. "I know that feeling," you said softly, your gaze drifting towards the familiar sight of the chateau ahead. "But we were doing this for John B."

Kiara nodded in agreement, her eyes reflecting a solemn determination. "For John B," she said firmly, her voice carrying a sense of purpose. "We'd do whatever it took to make things right for him." You shared a solemn nod with her, understanding the gravity of the situation. With John B's well-being at the forefront of your minds, you both steeled yourselves for the task ahead.

Turning to Sarah, you noticed the subdued demeanor that seemed to envelop her throughout the trip. Concern etched your features as you addressed her softly, "Sarah, are you okay?"

Sarah's gaze flickered up to meet yours, her expression guarded but tinged with vulnerability. She hesitated for a moment before offering a small nod. "Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. However, you could sense that something was amiss beneath the surface. Sarah's usual bubbly demeanor seemed to have been replaced by a quiet introspection, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for your friend.

You gave her a sympathetic look, understanding the weight of her struggles with family dynamics and the challenges of being back in your hometown. Leaning in slightly, you spoke to her in a quiet, reassuring tone. "I understand how tough it must be for you, especially with everything going on with your family and being back here," you said softly.

Sarah's guard seemed to soften at your words, and she offered you a faint smile of appreciation. "Yeah, it's been a lot to deal with," she admitted quietly, her voice carrying a mix of exhaustion and vulnerability.

But Sarah paused and looked at you, a serious expression casting a shadow over her features as she leaned in slightly. "But are you okay?" she repeated, her voice laced with genuine concern.

You blinked, taken aback by her sudden inquiry. It was rare for Sarah to divert the conversation onto you, and her serious demeanor caught you off guard. Fumbling for a response, you met her gaze, trying to decipher the underlying meaning behind her question.

"What do you mean?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of confusion. The concern in Sarah's eyes prompted you to consider your own well-being, a realization dawning on you that perhaps you hadn't been as forthcoming about your own struggles amidst the chaos of the past few days.

"You know what I mean." Her words hit you like a sudden gust of wind, leaving you momentarily speechless. The mention of Rafe lingered heavily in the air, a reminder of the unresolved emotions that still tugged at your heartstrings. Despite your attempts to bury them beneath the surface, Sarah's astute observation cut through the facade you had carefully constructed.

A heavy silence settled between you as you grappled with the weight of her implication. You knew exactly what she meant, and the mention of Rafe brought a flood of emotions rushing to the surface. Memories of your tumultuous past with him resurfaced, stirring up a whirlwind of conflicting feelings that you had long tried to suppress.

Taking a deep breath, you met Sarah's gaze, the unspoken understanding between you palpable in the air. There was no need for further explanation; she knew the turmoil that churned within you, the unresolved questions that lingered in the depths of your mind.

You offered Sarah a faint smile, attempting to downplay the significance of her concern. "I'm fine, really," you reassured her, your voice carrying a forced lightness. "There's nothing to worry about."

Despite your attempt to deflect the conversation away from your own struggles, Sarah's penetrating gaze remained fixed on you. It was clear that she saw through your facade, her concern unwavering despite your attempts to brush it off.

"Are you sure?" she pressed gently, her voice soft but insistent. "You know you can talk to me about anything, right?"

You nodded, grateful for her offer of support but unwilling to delve deeper into the complexities of your emotions. "I know, Sarah," you replied, offering her a small but genuine smile. "And I appreciate it. But right now, let's focus on John B and what we need to do to help him."

Sarah regarded you with a lingering gaze, a silent acknowledgment passing between you. Though she respected your desire to keep your feelings guarded, her unwavering support served as a comforting reminder that you weren't alone in your struggles.

As soon as John B and JJ finished docking the boat, you couldn't contain your excitement any longer. With a wide grin, you hopped off the boat and sprinted towards JJ, the rush of adrenaline propelling you forward. Without a second thought, you jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and your legs around his waist.

"JJ!" you exclaimed, unable to contain your joy at being back at the chateau.

JJ's laughter echoed through the air as he caught you effortlessly, his strong arms enveloping you in a tight embrace. "Hey there, beautiful," he said with a grin, his voice filled with affection.

You buried your face in his neck, breathing in the familiar scent of the ocean mingled with his cologne. "I can't believe we're back," you said, your voice filled with excitement and disbelief.

JJ held you close, his heart swelling with happiness at having you back in his arms. "Feels like old times, doesn't it?" he remarked, his voice tinged with nostalgia.

You nodded, a wide smile spreading across your face as you looked up at him. "Yeah, but this time feels different," you admitted, feeling a rush of emotions wash over you.

JJ's gaze softened as he met your eyes, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek. "Different, but in a good way," he reassured you, his voice filled with warmth and reassurance.

"Woah, looks like you two are happy to be here," Pope's voice pulled you out of your moment with JJ, and you turned to see him approaching, carrying some luggage on his back. His observation made you chuckle, and you exchanged a knowing look with JJ before responding.

"Yeah, can't you tell?" you replied with a grin, your eyes sparkling with excitement.

Pope shrugged, shaking his head slightly as he made his observation. "Seems like there's more than just excitement radiating from you two," he remarked, his tone lighthearted but curious.

Your cheeks grew warm as Pope's observation hit home, and you shot a glance at JJ, feeling a mix of embarrassment and amusement. Unsure of how to respond, you found yourself at a loss for words.

JJ chuckled, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer to him. "Guess we're not hiding it too well, huh?" he quipped, a playful glint in his eyes.

Before you could reply, John B appeared behind Pope, joining in on the teasing. "Looks like you two are getting even closer these days," he remarked with a smirk, nudging Pope playfully.

You couldn't help but laugh nervously, feeling the weight of their scrutiny. "Uh, yeah, just happy to be back with the crew," you said, trying to play it cool despite the heat rising to your cheeks.

JJ nodded in agreement, shooting you a reassuring smile. "Exactly," he echoed, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before turning back to the group.

Pope's eyes narrowed slightly as he exchanged a knowing glance with John B, the smirk on his face growing more pronounced. "Alright, man, whatever you say," he replied, his tone carrying a hint of playful skepticism. With a shake of his head, he hoisted the luggage onto his shoulder and continued ahead, leaving you and JJ to share a sheepish smile before following after him.

JJ glanced around, taking in the familiar surroundings of the Cut. "Man, this place looks just like it did when we left," he remarked, a nostalgic smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

You chuckled at the remark, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, still looks like a junkyard," you joked back, the playful banter lightening the mood as you made your way towards the chateau.

The Pogues made their way into the chateau, their footsteps echoing through the familiar halls as they entered. Despite the passage of time, the place felt just as welcoming as it had before. With an air of familiarity, they began to make themselves at home, setting their luggage down in various rooms and taking in the familiar surroundings.

John B headed towards the kitchen, his eyes scanning the countertops and cabinets as he searched for any signs of activity since their last visit. Meanwhile, Kiara and Pope wandered off to explore the living room, their voices mingling with laughter as they reminisced about past adventures.

You and JJ made your way to your room, the anticipation of being back in the chateau palpable between you. The door creaked open, revealing the familiar space you had shared countless memories in.

As you stepped inside, a sense of nostalgia washed over you, mingling with the excitement of being back. You couldn't help but smile as you took in the sight of the room, every corner holding a piece of your shared history.

JJ followed close behind, his eyes scanning the room with a fondness that mirrored your own. There was a sense of comfort in being back in this space, a feeling of home that you couldn't find anywhere else.

You moved to the window, drawing back the curtains to let in the soft light of the setting sun. The room was bathed in a warm, golden glow, casting long shadows across the floor as you turned back to face JJ.

He was standing in the center of the room, his gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. Without a word, he closed the distance between you, his hands coming to rest gently on your waist as he pulled you close.

As JJ's arms wrapped around you, you felt a rush of warmth and familiarity wash over you. It was as though no time had passed since the last time you were in this room together, and you found yourself sinking into his embrace with a sense of contentment.

"Feels good to be back, doesn't it?" JJ murmured, his voice soft as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You nodded against his chest, feeling a sense of peace settle over you in his arms. "Yeah, it does," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, the two of you stood there in silence, lost in your own thoughts and the comfort of each other's presence. The weight of the past two years seemed to fade away, replaced by the simple joy of being together in this familiar space.

But as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room, you couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty that lingered in the back of your mind. The return to the Outer Banks had brought with it a flood of memories and emotions, some of which you weren't sure how to confront.

As you and JJ settled into the room, you couldn't help but feel a sense of relief wash over you. Being back in this space with him felt like coming home in a way you hadn't realized you'd missed. JJ moved to sit on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him invitingly. You joined him, sinking into the soft mattress beside him, the warmth of his presence comforting.

"So," JJ began, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled between you. "What do you think about all of this?"

You glanced around the room, taking in the familiar sights and sounds of the chateau. "It's surreal, to be honest," you admitted, your voice tinged with a hint of nostalgia. "I never thought I'd be back here."

JJ nodded in understanding, his gaze soft as he looked at you. "Yeah, me neither," he said quietly. "But hey, we made it. And we're stronger now, right?"

You smiled at his words, feeling a surge of gratitude for the unwavering support he had always provided. "Definitely," you agreed, reaching out to squeeze his hand. "And having you here with me makes it all a little less daunting."

JJ's smile widened at your words, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sincerity in your voice. "Glad I could be of service," he joked, nudging you playfully with his shoulder.

You chuckled, leaning into his side as you felt a sense of peace settle over you. For the first time in a long time, you allowed yourself to relax, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, you and JJ would face them together.

"Hey, JJ?" you quietly began, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you.

"Yeah?" JJ replied, turning to face you, his gaze soft and attentive.

You took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before speaking. "I just wanted to say thank you," you said earnestly, meeting his eyes with a sincerity that spoke volumes. "For everything. For being here, for always having my back, even when things get tough."

JJ's expression softened even further at your words, a warmth spreading through his chest. "You don't have to thank me," he replied gently, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. "You know I'd do anything for you, right?"

You nodded, feeling a lump form in your throat at the depth of emotion in his eyes. "I do," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the gentle hum of the evening breeze. "And I'm grateful for you, more than you know."

A smile tugged at the corners of JJ's lips as he pulled you into a gentle embrace, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "Anytime, Y/N," he murmured against your hair, the sound of his voice soothing in the quiet of the room. As you rested against him, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would always have JJ by your side, a constant source of strength and support in a world that often felt uncertain.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, the tranquility of the room was shattered by the sudden clamor emanating from the front of the chateau. It was as if the peaceful atmosphere had been pierced by a sudden storm, pulling both you and JJ from the cocoon of warmth you had created.

You exchanged a puzzled glance with JJ, the unspoken question hanging in the air as you listened intently to the rising noise. For a brief moment, the only sound was the rustle of the curtains and the distant hum of the waves outside, before it was drowned out by the voices from the front of the chateau.

With furrowed brows, you sat up, your senses on high alert as you tried to discern the source of the disturbance. JJ mirrored your concern, his gaze locked on the door as if he could see through it to the chaos beyond.

"Should we go check it out?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper as you looked to JJ for guidance.

JJ nodded, a flicker of apprehension in his eyes as he pushed himself to his feet. He offered you a reassuring hand, and you took it gratefully, allowing him to help you up as you both prepared to face whatever lay ahead.

As you made your way towards the front of the chateau, the noise grew louder, a cacophony of voices mingling together in a chaotic symphony. With each step, your heart pounded in your chest, the sense of unease growing stronger with every passing moment.

You and JJ shared a silent exchange, a wordless acknowledgment of the gravity of the situation. Whatever was happening, you both knew it was bound to be significant, and you braced yourselves for whatever lay ahead as you ventured further into the fray.

As you trailed behind JJ hesitantly and slowly, he held up a finger to his lips, shushing you gently as he approached the side of the hallway wall that led to the living room. His movements were cautious, his eyes scanning the area for any signs of danger as he edged closer to the source of the commotion.

You mirrored his actions, your breath caught in your throat as you tried to suppress the rising sense of apprehension. The voices grew louder with each step, a jumble of sounds that made it difficult to discern what was being said.

Peering around the corner, you and JJ caught sight of the scene unfolding in the living room. The other Pogues were gathered there, their expressions a mix of shock and confusion as they stared at something you couldn't quite see from your vantage point.

JJ motioned for you to stay back, his hand squeezing yours reassuringly as he edged closer to the doorway. You obeyed, lingering in the hallway as you watched him disappear into the room, disappearing from view as he joined the others in their vigil.

Your heart raced in your chest as you waited, the tension in the air palpable as you strained to hear snippets of the conversation drifting out from the living room. Whatever was happening, it was clear that it was something significant, and you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled over you like a heavy blanket.

As the seconds ticked by, the tension in the air became palpable, each passing moment feeling heavier than the last. You could practically hear the collective racing of hearts, the anticipation building to an almost unbearable level.

Then, like a thunderclap breaking through the silence, Sarah's voice erupted in a piercing scream, echoing off the walls of the chateau with a raw intensity. The sound seemed to reverberate through the very core of the building, filling the space with an electric energy that sent shivers down your spine.

For a brief, heart-stopping moment, time seemed to stand still as you strained to make out the words she was screaming. It was as if the entire world held its breath, suspended in a suspended state of anticipation.

As the standoff continued in the living room, your impatience got the best of you. The distant commotion outside the chateau only added to your sense of urgency, prompting you to barge into the room and demand answers from the other Pogues.

"Okay, what's going on?" you blurted out, your voice tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration as you scanned the room for any clues.

The Pogues turned to look at you, their expressions a mix of surprise and bewilderment at your sudden intrusion. John B opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off before he could utter a word.

"Where's Sarah?" you demanded, your eyes narrowing as you realized that she was conspicuously absent from the group.

The tension in the room skyrocketed as the other Pogues exchanged uneasy glances, a palpable sense of unease settling over the room like a heavy fog. It was clear that something was amiss, and the feeling of dread that washed over you made your stomach churn with anxiety.

JJ's voice cut through the tense atmosphere, his tone gentle but firm as he addressed you. "Hey, just… stay out of it for now," he urged, his eyes meeting yours with a silent plea for understanding. "Sarah's handling something, but we'll figure it out." His words were meant to reassure you, but the underlying tension in his voice betrayed his attempt to conceal the seriousness of the situation. Despite his efforts to keep you from worrying, the gravity of the situation hung heavy in the air, leaving you with a gnawing sense of unease that refused to be ignored.

But the reassurance did little to quell the rising tide of worry within you. You shook your head again, your eyes wide with fear. "I need to know," you insisted, your voice trembling. "Please, just tell me."

Kiara's sympathetic yet worried expression mirrored your own emotions, her voice carrying a sense of understanding as she spoke. "Listen to JJ, Y/N," she said gently, her eyes filled with concern. "Sarah knows what she's doing. We just have to trust her for now."

As the tension in the room thickened, you glanced around at the faces of your friends, their silence only adding to your frustration. Outside, the noises persisted, amplifying your worry with each passing moment. With a mixture of exasperation and determination, you scoffed and folded your arms across your chest, issuing a demand to the room. "Either someone tells me what's going on, or I'm going out there myself."

"Y/N, you're not going out there," JJ interjected firmly, his voice laced with concern as he stepped closer to you.

You frowned, telling him firmly, "You can't tell me what to do, JJ. So either say it, or I will."

JJ sighed, his expression reflecting the internal struggle he was facing. "It's not safe out there right now," he explained, his tone gentle but firm.

You were about to retort when a loud crash from outside the chateau interrupted the tense moment. The sound sent a shiver down your spine, amplifying your concern for Sarah's safety.

"See, something's happening!" you exclaimed, your voice tinged with urgency.

JJ's jaw clenched, his eyes darting between you and the door. "Y/N, I can't let you go out there. It's not safe," he insisted, his tone firm yet laced with worry.

Your frustration peaked, the need to know what was happening outside overwhelming you. "So you're letting Sarah face whatever's out there alone?!" you shot back, your voice rising with each word.

"No, Y/N, it's dangerous for you," JJ replied, his expression pleading for you to understand.

You paused, feeling torn between your concern for Sarah and JJ's protective instinct. The adrenaline pumping through your veins urged you to act, but JJ's words anchored you to the spot, reminding you of the risks involved.

The commotion outside intensified, the urgency of the situation weighing heavily on everyone in the room. You glanced around, meeting the worried gazes of your friends, each one silently pleading for you to stay put.

Despite JJ's attempts to dissuade you, your concern for Sarah outweighed any sense of caution. You couldn't bear the thought of her facing danger alone, especially when you could potentially help. Ignoring JJ's warning, you made up your mind to go outside and find out what was happening.

"Sorry, JJ," you muttered, determination etched on your face as you brushed past him towards the door. "I can't just sit here."

JJ's expression softened, a mix of admiration and worry crossing his features as he watched you go. "Y/N, wait—" he called after you, but you were already on a mission.

With a deep breath, you pushed open the door and stepped outside, the cool night air hitting your skin as you surveyed your surroundings. The commotion seemed to be coming from the direction of the dock, and without hesitation, you started making your way towards it, your heart pounding in your chest with each step. Your heart leaped into your throat as Sarah's shrieks pierced the night air, sending a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. Without hesitation, you sprinted towards the source of the noise, every fiber of your being focused on reaching her as quickly as possible.

Your steps faltered, the urgency in your stride giving way to a sense of unease as you neared the source of the commotion. The air around you seemed to crackle with tension, a palpable energy that set your nerves on edge.

As you rounded the corner and caught sight of Sarah, standing face to face with someone, a sinking feeling settled in the pit of your stomach. Your mind raced with possibilities, but none of them prepared you for the sight that greeted you.

There, standing before Sarah, was Rafe.

His presence was like a punch to the gut, sending shockwaves of disbelief through your body. You couldn't tear your gaze away from him, his figure casting a looming shadow over the scene before you. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as you processed the sight before you. The air was thick with tension, and you felt as though you were walking into a storm, unsure of what awaited you on the other side.

Your breath caught in your throat as the gravity of the situation unfolded before your eyes. The sight of Rafe, waterboarding Sarah with a malicious glint in his eyes, sent a shiver down your spine. Anger and fear surged within you as you watched him mercilessly drag her in and out of the bucket of water, his grip tight around her throat.

"Rafe, get off of her!" You yelled instinctively to try and advert his attention away from Sarah, giving her room to get away.

The air seemed to crackle with tension as Rafe's gaze snapped towards you, his eyes widening in shock and disbelief. For a moment, the world around you faded into the background as you locked eyes with him, a myriad of emotions swirling between you.

His grip on Sarah loosened slightly, his attention momentarily diverted by your unexpected presence. The horror etched on his face mirrored the turmoil within you, a stark reminder of the tangled web of emotions that still lingered between you.

"Rafe," you called out, your voice tinged with a mixture of concern and defiance. It was a desperate attempt to break through the darkness that had enveloped him, to remind him of the person he used to be before everything spiraled out of control.

But even as he turned to face you, the haunted look in his eyes spoke volumes. It was as if he were wrestling with his own demons, trapped in a battle he couldn't escape. For a fleeting moment, the weight of your shared history hung heavy in the air, the unspoken words echoing between you. But as the seconds ticked by, it became clear that this encounter would be anything but simple.

"Y/N, is that really you?" Rafe's voice was barely above a whisper, his tone laced with disbelief and a hint of desperation. It was as if he couldn't quite reconcile the sight of you standing there before him with the reality of the situation.

"What the fuck are you doing, Rafe?" Your words cut through the air like a knife, carrying with them a mix of accusation and disbelief. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily upon you, the sight of Sarah struggling against Rafe's grip searing itself into your memory.

Rafe's expression shifted, a myriad of emotions flickering across his face—shame, guilt, and a hint of defiance. "I..." he began, his voice faltering as he struggled to find the right words. But before he could utter another syllable, Sarah's frantic cries pierced the air once more, a stark reminder of the danger she was in.

You took a step forward, your gaze never leaving Rafe's. "Let her go, Rafe," you demanded, your voice firm and unwavering. It was a command born out of necessity, fueled by the need to protect your friend from further harm.

For a moment, there was silence—a palpable tension that hung in the air like a heavy shroud. And then, slowly, almost reluctantly, Rafe released his grip on Sarah, allowing her to stumble backwards, gasping for breath.

As Sarah retreated to safety, you stood your ground, your eyes locked with Rafe's. There were no words that could adequately capture the tumult of emotions swirling within you—the anger, the fear, and the lingering traces of a love that had once burned bright.

But in that moment, all that mattered was ensuring the safety of your friend, even if it meant confronting the demons of your past head-on.

"I didn't think you'd actually come back," he repeated, his tone tinged with disbelief.

You took a moment to steady yourself, the weight of Rafe's gaze bearing down on you. Memories of your tumultuous past together flooded your mind—the moments of passion, the heated arguments, and the painful goodbyes that had brought you to this point.

"I came back for John B," you replied, your voice steady despite the turmoil raging within you. "He needed us, and I wasn't about to let him face this alone."

There was a flicker of something in Rafe's eyes—regret, perhaps, or maybe a hint of longing—but before you could dwell on it, Sarah's voice broke through the silence, a stark reminder of the danger that still loomed over you all.

With resolve coursing through your veins, you moved closer to Sarah, keeping a wary eye on Rafe. His presence was an unwelcome complication in an already tense situation, but you pushed aside the torrent of emotions threatening to engulf you.

"Sarah, are you okay?" you asked, your voice laced with concern as you reached out to steady her.

Sarah nodded weakly, her eyes wide with fear as she clung to your arm. "Y-yeah, I'm fine," she stammered, her voice trembling slightly.

You shot Rafe a pointed look, silently daring him to make a move. Despite the turmoil swirling within you, you refused to show any sign of weakness in front of him. Rafe held your gaze for a moment, his expression unreadable. There was a tension between you, an unspoken history that lingered in the air like a palpable force.

As you kept your gaze on Rafe, you suddenly felt a large hand wrap around your bicep and spin you around, much to your surprise. "Y/N, what the hell were you thinking?" JJ's voice was low, his eyes dark with concern as he studied your face.

You swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation sinking in as you met JJ's gaze. "I-I don't know," you admitted, your voice wavering slightly. "I just... I had to do something."

JJ's expression softened, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he searched your eyes. "You could've gotten hurt," he murmured, his voice laced with worry.

"Well look who it is, JJ Maybank," Rafe's voice cut through the moment, causing JJ to snap a look his way.

JJ's jaw clenched as he turned to face Rafe, his expression hardening with a mixture of anger and frustration. "What the hell do you want, Rafe?" he demanded, his voice sharp.

"Heard the Pogues were back in town. Had to check it out," Rafe smirked, his tone laced with a hint of arrogance.

JJ's expression hardened at Rafe's words, his grip on your hand tightening almost imperceptibly. "You don't belong here, Rafe," he replied sharply, his voice laced with a warning.

Rafe's smirk only widened at JJ's response, a glint of amusement dancing in his eyes. "Funny, I was just thinking the same thing about you," he retorted, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

You could feel the tension crackling in the air between them, the animosity palpable as they faced off against each other. It was clear that there was no love lost between Rafe and JJ, and the presence of the Pogues in town only seemed to exacerbate their rivalry.

Rafe's smirk widened as he found amusement in the rise he was getting out of JJ. "Aw, don't tell me you're still clinging onto her, Maybank," he taunted, his words dripping with sarcasm. "Thought you'd have moved on by now." He leaned back, crossing his arms confidently, clearly reveling in the tension he was causing.

Rafe's smirk slowly faded, replaced by a flicker of hurt and anger in his eyes as JJ's words hit him. His expression became a battleground of conflicting emotions, each vying for dominance. Hurt pierced through the facade of indifference he tried to maintain, while anger simmered just beneath the surface. His gaze darted between you and JJ, his mind racing to process the revelation. For a moment, the room seemed to hold its breath, the tension palpable as Rafe grappled with his emotions. His jaw clenched tightly, knuckles whitening as he fought to regain his composure. It was as if time itself had slowed, each heartbeat echoing loudly in the silence that enveloped them.

Rafe's voice dripped with disbelief as he muttered, "No fucking way." His words were laced with incredulity, his eyes darting back and forth between you and JJ. It was evident that JJ's assertion had rattled him to the core, piercing through his façade of nonchalance. The hurt and anger simmering beneath the surface erupted, seeping into every syllable he uttered.

"Is that what you came for, Rafe? To see her? I bet it is," JJ's voice cut through the tension, his words laden with accusation.

"I bet you spent every day the last two years hoping she'd come back for you, but the whole time she was with me," JJ spat out, his voice laced with bitterness and defiance.

Rafe's expression twisted into a mixture of disbelief and rage as JJ's words sunk in. He clenched his fists tightly at his sides, his jaw working as he struggled to find a response. Finally, he managed to choke out, "You don't know what the hell you're talking about, Maybank."

But JJ wasn't finished. "Oh, I know exactly what I'm talking about. And she knows it too," he retorted, his gaze unwavering as he stared down Rafe.

The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with animosity and unresolved emotions. Sarah, still recovering from her ordeal, watched with wide eyes, silently pleading for the confrontation to end.

You stood by JJ's side, your heart pounding in your chest as you watched the exchange unfold. Despite the fear and uncertainty coursing through you, you felt a sense of solidarity with JJ, a shared determination to stand up to Rafe and protect each other.

Rafe's fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, his gaze flickering between you and JJ, his mind undoubtedly racing with conflicting emotions and thoughts. But before he could say anything else, JJ stepped forward, his voice low but firm.

"Stay away from her, Rafe. She's mine now," JJ warned, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

Your heart sank as Rafe's gaze pierced through you, his eyes reflecting a mix of hurt and betrayal that cut deep. Despite everything, you couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that washed over you, knowing that your presence had ignited this confrontation between two people you cared about deeply.

For a moment, you were paralyzed by the weight of Rafe's stare, feeling as though you were the one responsible for causing him pain. But as the seconds ticked by, you forced yourself to look away, unable to bear the intensity of his gaze any longer.

Rafe's bitter laughter echoed through the tense atmosphere, his gaze flickering between you and JJ with a mix of disdain and resignation. With a scornful shake of his head, he pointed accusingly at the two of you, his voice laced with venom.

"You know what? You two deserve each other," he spat, his words dripping with bitterness and contempt. It was clear that the sight of you and JJ together had stirred up a storm of emotions within him, and his resentment was palpable in every syllable he uttered.

The sting of Rafe's words cut deep, igniting a surge of conflicting emotions within you. His accusation hit a nerve, dredging up memories of the tumultuous history you shared with JJ during the turbulent times of your breakup with Rafe. Despite the hurt and anger simmering beneath the surface, there was also a pang of guilt and regret as you grappled with the complexities of your past. Flinching at Rafe's anger and the implication behind his words, you felt a knot form in the pit of your stomach. His comment struck at the heart of your insecurities, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable in the harsh glare of his judgment.

"Fuck you, Rafe. You have no right to be mad that I'm with JJ now," your words cut through the tension like a knife, laced with defiance and frustration. The pent-up emotions simmered beneath the surface, boiling over in a torrent of raw honesty. With each syllable, you reclaimed a fragment of your shattered resolve, refusing to be reduced to a pawn in Rafe's game of manipulation and guilt. The anger in your voice mirrored the intensity of your inner turmoil, a fierce declaration of independence against the shadows of your past. In that moment, you drew a line in the sand, daring Rafe to cross it and face the consequences of his actions.

"You ruined my friend's life and you ruined mine. You're the fucking reason I left this place in the first place! Everything would've been fine if it wasn't for you." Your words were like daggers, cutting through the air with a ferocity that left no room for ambiguity. Each accusation carried the weight of years of pain and resentment, a damning indictment of Rafe's role in the chaos that had engulfed your life. The force of your shove mirrored the intensity of your emotions, a physical manifestation of the pent-up anger and frustration that had simmered beneath the surface for far too long. In that moment, you refused to be silenced, your voice a defiant cry against the injustices of the past.

As the echoes of your words faded into the silence, you stood your ground, your chest heaving with the effort of holding back tears. You refused to be cowed by Rafe's presence, your gaze unwavering as you met his eyes with a mixture of defiance and vulnerability. For a fleeting moment, you saw a flicker of remorse in Rafe's expression, a shadow of the boy you once knew hidden beneath layers of bitterness and regret. But you refused to let his momentary weakness sway you, your resolve unyielding in the face of his deception and betrayal.

Rafe's whispered words hung heavy in the air, carrying with them a raw vulnerability that cut through the tension like a knife. "I knew you'd be back here," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "I had to show myself that you were still real."

His admission struck a chord within you, stirring up a whirlwind of emotions that you struggled to contain. "Why does it matter to you if I'm back or not?" you challenged, your voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and uncertainty.

Rafe's gaze softened as he peered down into your eyes, his expression a tumultuous mix of regret and longing. "Because… because you were the only good thing in my life," he confessed, his voice laced with a hint of desperation.

As Rafe's words washed over you, a wave of conflicting emotions threatened to engulf your senses. You shook your head in disbelief, your eyes tightly shut as you fought to keep your composure. The weight of his confession bore down on you, threatening to break through the walls you had erected around your heart.

"I can't do this," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. The pain of the past, coupled with the raw vulnerability of the present, was almost too much to bear. But you refused to let Rafe see the depth of your turmoil, steeling yourself against the onslaught of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from him, unable to meet his gaze as you took a shaky step back. "You need to go," you said, your voice trembling with a mixture of sadness and resolve. Deep down, you knew that confronting the ghosts of your past would only reopen old wounds, wounds that had yet to fully heal.

As Rafe stood before you, his expression a mirror of your own inner turmoil, you felt a pang of regret tugging at your heartstrings. But you knew that for both of your sakes, it was better to leave the past where it belonged and move forward, even if it meant walking away from the one person who had once meant everything to you.

Rafe nodded in acknowledgment, his expression reflecting a sense of resignation. "Okay. Just... don't leave again because of me," he responded, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

You swallowed hard, your throat constricting with emotion as you struggled to find the right words to respond. "I won't," you promised softly, your voice barely above a whisper. It was a vow made not just to Rafe, but to yourself as well—a pledge to confront the demons of your past and carve out a new path forward, one untainted by the shadows that had haunted you for so long.

With a heavy heart, you turned away from him once more, the weight of his gaze lingering on you like an invisible tether binding you together. But as you walked away, a newfound sense of determination welled up within you, propelling you forward into the unknown with a courage you hadn't known you possessed.

With a heavy heart, Rafe turned away, his steps weighted with the burden of his past and the uncertainty of the future. As he walked away from the scene, the echoes of the confrontation lingered in his mind, haunting him with the knowledge that some wounds may never fully heal. Despite his efforts to bury the pain, it seemed to follow him like a shadow, a constant reminder of the choices he had made and the consequences that ensued. With each step, the distance between him and the chateau grew, but the memories remained, etched into the fabric of his being, serving as a constant reminder of the tumultuous journey that had brought him to this point. And as he disappeared into the night, a solitary figure against the backdrop of the moonlit sky, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held, and whether redemption was truly within reach.

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ask-whitepearl-and-steven · 9 months

Note

Can you give me some advice, how do you keep the comics going without getting bored quickly or leaving it open?

I love drawing.

I hate running.

But running and drawing are very similar.

You can be good at sprints (illustrations) and you can genuinely enjoy the process of running(drawing), and you can want to go from one place to another REALLY bad(making a story).

But comics are a marathon. And they require an entirely different set of skill and STAMINA which you will not have unless you train for it.

What I'm saying is... when I first started to draw comics, I also got bored quickly. I left a lot of comics unfinished. I did that for YEARS.

The only thing that helped was... drawing more comics! Slowly drawing more and more pages. Going from 1-page comics to 5-page comics to 10-page comics over the course of weeks and months!

I've been drawing comics for over a decade now and WD!AU is my longest comic ever. I can confidently say I have trained my mind and body to do that marathon.

Don't expect to be able to do the same on a whim. It'll take time, and your journey will probably be unlike mine - unique in its own way.

Take your time! Don't rush. Just keep drawing.

#chekhov answers

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toruro · 8 months

Text

— ✧ scrawled in sand

inspired by hozier’s ‘all things end’

pairing. jeon wonwoo x reader

description: "loving wonwoo was like taking a breath of air. you don’t get to think twice before you inhale, and so you never thought twice about loving wonwoo. maybe that’s why he stitched himself a little too deep, and now you’re wondering when exactly did the thread cut loose."

genre: smut (18+ / mdni), break up au, angst w/c: 2.8k a/n: sorry ig. anywho! this is for @ressonancee my beloved ^^ and thank u @cheolhub for reading over this 4 me and @lovelyhan for beta reading c:

smut tags. fem bodied reader, fingering, pet names (angel), creampie

If there was anyone to ever get through this life With their heart still intact, they didn't do it right

Your friends tell you that you should have seen it coming.

They’re right, in retrospect—you should have seen it coming—but that isn’t so easy. It can’t ever be easy when you love Jeon Wonwoo, and that’s because loving Jeon Wonwoo is as easy as breathing.

You wonder if you let yourself love him too easily. Too much, you dare say, because you’re starting to realize that when you love too much, Wonwoo begins to stitch himself into the very walls that build up your life.

The needle must have pricked on your first day of high school when you saw him for the first time after summer. Loving him was easy then, because he smiled so brightly and patted your head so fondly you could melt into his arms. It must have sunk a little deeper on your guys’ first prom, when he asked you out with a poster and cheap flowers because it was the only thing his crappy life-guarding job could afford. Loving him was easy then, because he pressed his lips to your cheek and held you close.

Loving Wonwoo was taking a breath of air. You don’t get to think twice before you inhale, and so you never thought twice about loving Wonwoo. Maybe that’s why he stitched himself a little too deep, and now you’re wondering when exactly did the thread cut loose.

It couldn’t have been in college, no, because Wonwoo agreed to study in the same city as you in a heartbeat; because you made love for the first time in your creaky little dorm bed after kicking your roommate out; because through those four years, you were still breathing and you were still loving and that thread was so deeply rooted that it might as well have been a part of your soul.

Late nights on campus when you would sit in the library together and pretend you were studying. Pretend, because loving Wonwoo was too easy and one teasing glance turned into another before the two of you would be giggling like school kids until you were kicked out for being too loud.

Scurrying away with your bags stuffed with unfinished notes to makeout behind some building under the dingy yellow light of a lampost, his lips sucked your breath away, but that’s okay because even if you weren’t breathing, you were loving Wonwoo and that was more than enough.

It couldn’t have been when you moved in together after graduation, because that first night Wonwoo danced with you in your barren living room to the staticky radio the landowner left behind, and when he looked at you it was with flames in his eyes. You loved Wonwoo too easily, and so you forgot that all fires die eventually. Sometimes, when you close your eyes, you still imagine you can feel the embers.

You conclude that it must have happened slowly.

To love Wonwoo was to breathe, but you failed to realize that it is not always easy breathing.

You should have listened to your friends. Being high school sweethearts was a high—it was your peak, you realize now. You and Wonwoo were hiking towards a goal—to make this work—and somewhere along the climb you must have gotten lost.

Breathing was no longer easy because the air was thinning, but of course, that happens slowly. So slowly, you aren’t sure you’ll ever find out exactly when that thread snapped; you’ll only ever know when you finally felt its whiplash.

You wake up rather early for a Sunday morning. You’d like to blame it on the empty spot next to you, but you rather enjoy the extra space.

(You feel plenty warm on your own anyways.)

There’s a rustling outside your bedroom, coming from down the hall, and you aren’t quite sure what he’s doing.

(You’re even less sure if you’re bothered enough to find out.)

You glance at the time. 7:17. You figure you might make use of your early waking, slipping from beneath the covers to leave the room. There’s something heavy in the air when you do, and you feel it in every thudding step you take.

(Does he hear the rumbling as deeply as you do?)

“Wonwoo,” you call out, when you walk into the kitchen to find him pressed against the counter, mindlessly scrolling through his phone.

(When was the last time you called him “Won?” “Woo?” “Love?”)

“What is it?” he asks when you stand by the island, looking up from his phone, but the screen still stays on. You want him to turn it off, but then you think again.

(Why should he?)

Wonwoo glances back at his phone when you take too long to respond. You click your tongue and shake your head, turning away. “I forgot.”

(Ask me, ask me, ask me. Ask me if I’m okay.)

Silence follows as Wonwoo leaves the kitchen to grab a bag from the pantry. “I’m going to the farmers’ market now. It’s my turn this week.”

(When did you stop slipping into the car together, Wonwoo’s thumb brushing over your thigh as you sing along to the morning blues? When did you stop holding hands, skipping through the market, grabbing samples, and feeding each other through hushed giggles and soft-lipped kisses? When did you start taking turns?)

“Do you remember what you wanted to say?”

(If you held out your hand, would he take it?)

“Remember to get the tomatoes.”

(Loving Wonwoo is too easy, and maybe that’s why you never really noticed when you stopped.)

You imagine this would hurt less if there was a ring on your finger. It isn’t difficult to admit you married the wrong person, tied by legalities and social burdens pressed down on you.

It’s harder to say you’re bound by a love that once was.

It’s okay, in some ways; you’ve learned to live with it. Most days, you two work your way around the elephant in the room. But today, you’re tired. You’re so, so tired and it’s getting just a little too hard to ignore that the calf has grown into something much, much bigger.

Loving Wonwoo was like breathing, and now it’s hitting you that you’re at a loss for air. When you step through the front door, you think everything might give out.

Wonwoo sits on the living room couch on his laptop, and you aren’t sure what he’s doing, but you think it hardly amounts to any level of importance right now. “Wonwoo? Wonwoo?” you call out and there’s something in your voice—like you’re searching for him even though he’s right there—and Wonwoo just caves.

There’s worry laced into his tone when he calls your name and for a second, you think things have already been mended. The stitches feel as they have tightened and you let yourself dream that this will be your rebound, but then you realize that Wonwoo is only concerned because your eyes are welling with tears and you’re staggering against the wall, limbs trembling and lids heavy. He stumbles a little to get to you, and you think that Wonwoo always used to find it easy to come to you.

(When did things change?)

“Hey, what’s wrong? You’re crying—” When Wonwoo grabs your arm, you kiss him fiercely, not because you feel fiercely, but because you hope it will ignite something tonight.

Kissing Wonwoo is almost as easy as it was to love him. Years and years of his lips against yours and now it’s just like second nature, the way your tongues glide and prod into each other’s mouth. Wonwoo’s lips are chapped, and he tastes faintly of the coffee that sits on the corner table.

(Wonwoo likes to make it on the French Press, for 4 minutes and 15 seconds to be precise, with a dash of milk and 3 cubes of sugar.)

“Wonwoo,” you whine like your throat knows so well—hoarse and desperate just how he likes and tonight it works, because Wonwoo is wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeper. His palms dig into your flesh so hard you want to cry—but you’re already crying—so you press your face into his neck and suck instead.

He groans into you, his hands slipping underneath the hem of your shirt, and so you move on to suck and lick against him again because you once loved the sound of his breathy moans and you’re convinced that if you hear it just once more, it might just make you fall right back in love.

It doesn’t, but you’re not really surprised. His hands are running all over your waist, your stomach, and still, it feels good, at least for now. You know Wonwoo knows how to make you feel good, after all, it was just that he never really did it anymore.

(No hard feelings though, because when was the last time you unbuckled his belt and palmed him through his boxers like you’re doing right now?)

Warm hands creep up, brushing over your hard nipples, pinching and tweaking between deft fingers, and you throw your head back and moan. You’ve always been a bit sensitive there, and as he roughly yanks the buttons of your work shirt loose, Wonwoo uses what he knows to his full advantage.

“Bedroom,” you breath out, tangling your fingers into the short hair at the nape of his neck, tugging softly. If it hurts, Wonwoo doesn’t say anything.

(Has he ever told you if it hurts?)

He nods, limbs still tangled with yours as your feet follow the silent path down the hallways. You stumble through the door together and your back is hitting the mattress before you can even discern what is left and what is right.

(When was the last time your bed felt this warm?)

“Angel,” Wonwoo mumbles into your mouth, pulling away just an inch to slip the shirt off his head. “Angel,” he says more intensely this time, speaking from his throat and oh this will be your undoing, because you are no longer Wonwoo’s angel but for this moment, you two can pretend.

Shimmying your shirt and bra off, you leave it fall on top of Wonwoo’s on the ground before playing back down on the sheets and opening your legs. He’s got his hands at your waistband, yanking the pants right off your legs and something about the way the cool air hits your bare skin makes your ache run a little deeper.

“Wonwoo,” you mewl, reaching for his face so you can smash his lips into yours once more. He doesn’t taste much like coffee anymore. Now, he just tastes like Wonwoo.

(You aren’t sure which you prefer.)

“Oh fuck,” he moans against your cheek when he grinds down into you, bulge pressing against your thigh as your body grows warmer and warmer.

(Is this the fire you so desperately tried to light?)

With your hands caged around his cheeks, Wonwoo looks at you with heavy lidded eyes and you wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. There was a time where you could tell, but that time has passed and now you’re panting into his neck when he brings his fingers up to your soiled panties.

Rubbing against the nub over the slick fabric, your blood buzzes and your back arches into his touch, legs spreading and spreading until they have no further to go. “So beautiful,” Wonwoo tells you, thumb circling over clothed clit as your tits heave up and down in tandem with your harsh breaths.

(Beautiful, because you are beautiful. You’ll always be beautiful, but being beautiful will not always matter.)

“More,” you whine, thrashing against the sheets when his thumb is no longer enough. Hooking your finger under your panties and tugging it to the side, your core is all shiny and flutter and beautiful when it’s on display to Wonwoo.

His finger is in your cunt before you can plead with him again, because now is not the time to make you beg. It has not been the time to make you beg in a long, long time. One turns into two and soon you’re moaning incoherently as his knuckles plunge into you, caressing your warm walls so methodically one would think it’s ingrained into Wonwoo’s very DNA.

You feel yourself coming close to your end and so you wrap your fingers around his wrist to make him stop. He looks up at you and—oh, those eyes—his lips are on yours again, so your legs wrap around his bare torso as you roll around in the sheets.

If you think hard enough, it feels like one of those blissful mornings. The ones you see in movies, lovers entangled in nothing but kisses and souls as they exist in the world they’ve built up in their head. You imagine that could have been you and Wonwoo, if only you had found your way back home.

Soon, you’re pushing him onto his back against the headboard as he kicks off his pants and boxers, and there you are, climbing onto his lap, pressing your naked back to his chest. Settling the back of your head in the crook between his neck and shoulder, you lift your hips just high enough so Wonwoo can hold the fat head of his tip against your swollen folds, and you brace yourself.

There’s a mangle moan that erupts from both of your lips when you sink down, and for a second, you almost fall back in love. He’s filled you to the brim as you shake above him, adjusting to the size and you wonder if Wonwoo has always made you feel this full. So full you feel you might implode if you get any closer, but still, you dig your heels into the mattress and grind down anyways. If you’re going to burn tonight, you might as well enjoy this while it lasts.

Wonwoo’s throbbing inside of you, hands holding their iron grip on his waist as he helps you lift yourself up and then bounce right back down. You can’t see the look on his face, but you imagine he’s got his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, eyes shut, and eyebrows pinched together every time your cunt envelopes his cock.

“Angel,” he mutters into your ear when you reach one hand up to grab at his hair. One of his own large hands grabs at your tits, squeezing the soft flesh as your hips begin to swivel more and more erratically. Wonwoo teeths at your neck and collarbone, leaving splotchy red marks that you’re sure will bruise the next morning.

(No worries though, they’ll fade eventually.)

“Fuh … fuck,” you cry when your stomach starts to churn and your vision starts to grow bleary. It’s so much—so, so much, and you start to think that your body won’t be able to handle much more when your limbs grow limp. Wonwoo starts to fuck upwards and into you now, and the sound of skin slapping against skin leaves a ringing in your ears.

Just a little more. Just a little more. You’re sure Wonwoo feels it too, and thus his hips jerk just a little bit harder and his grip grows just a little bit tighter.

When you cum, it’s with Wonwoo’s name on your tongue. It’s broken and it’s strangled, but it is there and he soon follows suit, moaning about his beloved angel into your skin from behind as he spills his hot seed into you.

You’re both messy all over—sweat and cum and drool slips between your bodies and you should feel gross, but your body still trembles with the aftershocks of your orgasm and you find yourself reveling in bliss.

You sober up a few minutes later, but still, you sit in a haze.

Nuzzling into Wonwoo’s neck, you search for a fire—a spark of anything, really. Desperately, you rake for a glimmer of heat in his heart, and as you begin to grow colder and colder you drift.

Did you douse the flame? Months ago? Years ago? Or did it fizzle out on its own? You learn that you won’t ever know. Wonwoo probably won’t ever know either, so you figure if there’s one way you’ll spend eternity with him, it’ll be in ignorance.

You’ll start packing your things tomorrow. You’re sure Wonwoo will understand.

For now, he wraps an arm around your stomach and presses his mouth to your shoulder, and the soft brush of his lips makes you shudder. Your friends were right: all good things come to an end, but you figure that if this is how they come to a close, you don’t really mind.

And all things end All that we intend is scrawled in sand Or slips right through our hands And just knowing That everything will end Won't change our plans When we begin again

a/n. reading this over i was like owie why did they do that and then i realized that i wrote this and now i’m kind of wondering why i decided to do this to myself in the first place but it was fun so i don’t rly care

taglist. @xenkimmie @lesdevoeux @cheolism @namjoonbaby @listxn @scuzmunkie @binwons @lskjki @h34rts4chira @kazuhateez @imlilstitious @yogurttea @lynnxworld @jeanjacketjesus @meowmeowminnie @soonhoonietrash @caratlove10 @cottoncheol @synthetickitsune @ixayjun @leejihoonownsmyheart @dahliatopia @gyuswhore @hoeforcheol @5xiang @hajimelvr @miriamxsworld @lixiel0ver @josefines-things @mimisxs @kawennote09 @bbyjjunie @rubyreduji @marzmeltdown @todorokiskitten @98-0603 @hipsdofangirl @nikkixpenguin @minnie-mouser22 @minhui896 (strikethrough could not be tagged)

#wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo smut #wonwoo angst #jeon wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo smut #svt smut #svt angst #seventeen angst #📝 writing

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