#and when there was it was easy to get away from them
Text
Mine
Summary - Cassian always gets a little riled up when he gets to fight for your honor.
Warnings - Blood, smut, focus on reader and Cassian's differences physically, reader is thick because it felt right, oral (female receiving), Cassian going to pound town.
A/N - based on this post and our comments from @loneliestluvr I refuse to apologize for how quickly this became smut.
Being mated to the Lord of Bloodshed was never easy, especially as an illyrian female blessed to have found him before your wings were taken. “Sorry,” you whispered as he flinched. You had got to the cut on his eyebrow, wiping it down as gently as you could.
Cassian was covered in blood. A mix of his own and another male's who had not known you were claimed by the male sitting in front of you. “You okay?” He had his eyes shut as you took care of him, content under the feel of your soft hands.
“You're the one who ended up in a fight with 6 other males and walked away. I should be asking you that.” You gently reset and healed his nose, silently thanking the Mother for such a useful gift.
Everything about you two had been so perfectly planned. The skilled warrior. Loud, personable, quick on his feet. Then you, the talented healer. Intelligent, shy, soft spoken. You were balanced perfectly. A match truly made by the Gods. You continued wiping the blood from him, ensuring he would not have to change the water multiple times once you got him bathed and stepped away before offering him your hand.
It was another contrast between you two and Cassian's absolute favorite. Your soft manicured hands, his rough and calloused ones. He laced your fingers together, pretending to allow you to pull him up at he stood. “I'm fine, baby. You should see the other guys.” He smiled at his own joke, walking into the bathroom of the cabin. “Are you going to undress me too?”
“Absolutely.” You were graceful with buckle, each tie, gently pulling armor and fabric from his body until it sat on the vanity nearby. Habit took over as you folded it all, putting the clothing into baskets to be cleaned before turning back to the god in fae form behind you.
The moan Cassian released as he sunk into the warm water had your thighs clenching. You watched his head fall back as lavender scented steam came from the tub and as his shoulders fell in relaxation. “Can I wash your hair?” He groaned again at the thought, smiling as you sat behind him with the soap. “Need to show you my love and appreciation for protecting me.”
He gave a breathy laugh, shutting his eyes in bliss as you began massaging shampoo into his wavy locks. “I will always protect you, y/n. Always. You are mine.”
“I am,” he growled at your agreement, his need to possess you was high. Illyrians had always been more feral with their bonds, and you absolutely allowed him to enjoy the primal tendencies that came with it. “I will always be yours. In this life and the next.” You began rinsing his hair, ensuring every spec of blood and dirt was out before applying a deep conditioner.
“Lean forward so I can wash your back, Cassian.”
“I don't deserve you,” he was drifting off under your touch, enjoying the feeling of you kneading sore muscles as you lathered his scarred skin with a soft scented soap. “Could you get my wings?”
You leaned in, whispering in his ear. “I planned on getting them once I got you fully cleaned and the water changed.”
“Fuck that,” Cassian forced you over, pulling you in thin night gown and all before ripping it off of you. His lips were on yours and hungry. He was grabbing your hips, loving their plushy feel. “Want you now.”
“Cass, this water is disgusting.”
His head hit the tub with a thud. “Fine. Fine. It's fine.” He was, in fact, not fine. You could feel how hard he was. His length was pressing into your stomach. “I just need you. You know how I get when you take care of me.”
You were washing him again. Cleaning off his chest and face, scrubbing his arms. He was memorized by you by your body. He remembered learning about the Gods of old from Rhysand's mother, and you had to have been crafted by the goddess of love. It was another contrast. His rock-hard body, toned and cut from years of training. Your soft body, curves landing in all the right places, thighs so thick you genuinely worried when you sat on his face.
He lifted you with little effort when he knew he was clean, climbing out of the water with his lips attached to the point on your neck that drove you wild. “Done waiting,” he carried you to the bedroom, sucking that spot until he knew a deep purple mark would form.
He threw you down on the bed, not caring that it would soak the sheets and mattress as he watched your full breasts bounce. When he was like this, you knew you were in for a ride. Knew that headboard wouldn't be enough to keep you in place as he pounded into you over and over again, only content when he had ensured you were filled and would smell like him and sex for weeks. He was studying you like you were his prey, waiting to pounce at just the right time.
He found it as you shifted, laying down more on the pillows like the queen he knew you were. He did not bother kissing your lips again. Instead, it was him instantly pulling your legs over his shoulders and licking your already soaked core. Your hands shot to his hair, moans ripping through your throat. He was eager tonight. So damn eager.
“Cassian,” he hummed against you, looking up through hooded lust filled eyes. “Slow down.”
He shook his head, not even letting your clit out of his mouth as he did. “Baby, I'm going to cum if you don't go slower.” His brows shot up and a smirk formed. It spoke of every intention he had, you would not leave this bed, not without him carrying you.
Every flick of his tongue, every long drag, the soft kisses all had you melting further Into the mattress as your nerves came to life. Cassian was as calculated in bed as he was on a battlefield. Everything was precise, done with intention, and meant to fulfill his goal. His forearm went against your hips, locking you in place at his mercy.
He could feel every wave of pleasure from you shooting down that sacred and special bond. He could sense the moment you fell. Your fingers tightened on the sheets, your back arched, it was silence before the scream. Between your own pleasure, you could feel his pride leaking down the bond. Pride with how easily he could pull you apart with nothing more than his tongue. Pride over the way your body was so easily his.
He only pulled away when you began to whimper and push, but he was instantly crashing his lips on yours as he kicked off his pants. His forehead went to yours once you were both breathless. Those Hazel eyes you melted in the gaze of were feral and dark with desire. In one smooth motion with no warning, Cassian was inside of you with one single word, “Mine.”
There was no split second of calm before the storm, no moment to catch your breath after he took it from you. Cassian began to pound into you, hitting that perfect spot and making you see stars. Your nails dug into his chest, leaving small marks to join the littering scars and cuts from his earlier fight. “Mine,” the growl was deep, an ancient part of him almost begging for affirmation of the word.
“Yours,” you moaned out for him, back arching as your stomach tightened. “All yours.” Cassian's arm went across your back, hand roughly gripping your hips he could force you to move exactly how he wanted.
You could hardly breathe, mind lost to anything but Cassian. Your mate. Your everything. You could feel him down the bond, feel him getting closer with each squeeze and twitch of your walls. The room was thick with the scent of sex and sweat, the sound of his groans and you whispering and moaning his name like a prayer to some long forgotten God. “So fucking beautiful,” his free hand forced your head up, forcing you to watch as his cock slid in and out of your core, soaked in your essence. “Watch me fuck you. Watch me mark this pretty perfect pussy as mine.”
You couldn't help but to moan, feeling that edge approaching faster and faster with his. “Cassie.”
“Do it. Cum on my cock, baby.” He let you go limp below him, placing your head back on the pillows gently as he did. Wave after wave of need and pleasure washed over you, blinding your senses to anything but the feel of Cassian filling you as you Came around him. He fucked you through the high before finally finishing, not even bothering to pull out and opting to instead hold your hips so close to his you could not even tell where he began and you ended.
When he finally let you go, he barely caught himself before collapsing on top of you as his exhaustion hit him. You could help but place soft kissed along his face. His scarred brow and lip, his nose that you'd reset and healed so many times, his jaw. You finally sighed with one last lingering kiss directly on his full lips as he smiled. “That was faster than I hoped it would be.”
“Always is when you fuck me after fighting.”
“Always yours.”
He kissed your neck softly on the mark he made, whispering one last time. “Mine.”
General Taglist:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria @fandomrejects
#acotar#acotar x reader#cassian acotar#cassian x you#cassian x reader#cassian x y/n#cassian fic#cassian smut#cassian of illyria#lord of bloodshed
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congratulations on 3k followers!
would love to request Azriel x Reader (Fem!Reader if that’s okay with you), some good ole’ angst ending in fluff please!
Az knows reader is his soulmate and doesn’t say anything, reader either finds out because someone in the IC told her or the bond snaps for her, and she thinks Az didn’t tell her because he’s ashamed of her but really he’s ashamed of himself and thought reader wouldn’t want him.
I know this has been done before but I love seeing different versions of it and know yours would be amazing!!
The Shadowsinger’s Secret
Summary: After years spent trying to befriend the shadowsinger to no avail, you are finally ready to give up after accidentally overhearing him speak poorly of you. But when a gossip session exposes a life-changing secret, you realize you can’t let go of Azriel just yet.
Warnings: some miscommunication, fluff
A/n: Hope you enjoy this! Thanks for sending in a request and for your kind words!
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Meeting Mor at Rita’s during the time Velaris was warded and locked down had completely changed your life.
A close friendship had bloomed between the two of you. She introduced you to her two other friends, Cassian and Azriel, when she invited you to a dinner at the townhouse they all shared. After getting over the shock of meeting the fae so close to the High Lord, you were quick to make friends with them—or well, with Cassian at least.
Although Azriel didn’t seem like much of a talker in the first place, you began to notice the extra ways he would go about avoiding you. Quickly leaving a room with lousy excuses when you entered, avoiding eye contact when he did address you—like when he’d ask you to pass the potatoes since that was really the only time he talked to you, or pretending not to notice you when you would see him out and about in the city.
At first, you chalked it up to him being severely introverted and shy. Not to mention, all three of them were struggling with the fact that their brother and friend was stuck under the rule of Amarantha. It hurt your feelings, but you brushed it off, figuring he would open up to you over time. But that time never seemed to come even after Rhysand returned.
The first few months after Rhysand finally came home, you were quick to form a friendship with him despite him being your High Lord. You two shared similar traumas. You both had terrible fathers growing up. He had lost his sister, you had lost your brother—the reason you’d moved away from home to live here. But perhaps the best and most silly reason you got along so well was the fact that the two of you loved to gossip.
Even after making friends with both his brothers and Mor, Azriel did not warm up to you. He still avoided you. Still made sure to always sit at the other end of the table from you. Made sure to never be left in a room alone with you. And he would never be the one to offer to fly you up to the House of Wind, even when it would’ve been more convenient.
You were beginning to think maybe he just didn’t like you. And then those feelings were confirmed with the appearance of the Archeron sisters.
You had seen the way Azriel treated Elain, always offering to keep her company or escort her to places. He sat with her at dinners, listened to her talk about her hobbies, and even defended her when a bad word was said about her. Elain was easy to get along with, sure, but so were you. At least, you had thought you were. But Azriel was making you question everything you had ever thought of yourself.
He even became friends with Nesta, who had been nothing short of a viper when she first arrived in Velaris. That was when you finally let go of the notion of ever being his friend, ever getting him to even so much as look your way. He didn’t like you. For whatever reason, a reason you were too scared to ask the others about, he didn’t like you.
You had gone to such great lengths to be his friend. Gave him presents on Winter Solstice, brought his favorite treats from the bakery to leave in the kitchen for him every sunday, tried to converse with him during dinners, included him whenever you invited the group out for drinks. You had tried your hardest and it had been met with pure apathy. You eventually found out that he wouldn’t even eat any of the treats you brought, leaving them all for Cassian.
That really drove the nail into the coffin. He didn’t even want to touch something because it had been from you. It hurt more than you’d like to admit.
You were currently making your way to Rhys’s office for a meeting about how your mentorship with Madja was going but more importantly, to share the hot gossip you’d heard when two voices caught your attention.
You paused in your tracks when you heard your name mentioned, glancing at the closed door to Rhys’s personal library.
“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel.”
“You don’t understand, Elain.” You heard Azriel respond. “I can’t.”
“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”
Your heart was wildly beating in your chest, both panic and nausea turning over your stomach.
“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s—”
You fled before you could hear the rest of Azriel’s response, tears burning in your eyes, chest tight.
So none of it had been in your head. Azriel truly disliked you. You didn’t know what you did to offend him or make him hate you.
You swallowed, thickly, wiping away the tears that had slid down your cheeks, trying to compose yourself before you entered Rhys’s office. The last thing you wanted was for him to ask you why you were upset.
But you could do nothing about the nausea in your stomach, or the hoarse feeling in your throat that made it hard to swallow. Maybe you’d just drop off the report and scurry home before anyone noticed something was wrong.
You pushed open the door to his office, keeping your eyes on the floor as you entered and shut it behind you.
“Ah, Y/n, just the person I was waiting for! You will not believe what I heard Nesta telling—” You looked up when Rhys paused to see him staring at you with concern. “Y/n, what’s the matter? Why do you look so upset?”
“N-nothing,” you choked out, striding forward and setting your report on his desk. “I’m just a bit tired today. Think I’m going to head home and take a nap.”
Rhysand stared down at the folder on his desk with a frown before leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Bullshit.”
“Excuse me?!”
“I’m calling bullshit, Y/n,” Rhys said, looking at you with a stern expression that was normally reserved for when Nyx acted up. “You stay out all night long with Mor all the time and you’ve never skipped out on our talks! What happened? Did someone hurt you? Who do we have to beat up?”
You shook your head with a small laugh that sounded as hollow as you felt. “Seriously, Rhys, I’m fine. Nothing happened. I really am just tired.”
He studied you before nodding at the chair in front of his desk with his chin. “Sit.”
You bristled at him using his High Lord’s voice to get you to obey, reluctantly taking a seat in the armchair. He didn’t seem bothered by the glare you were sending his way.
“This is hardly necessary,” you argued.
“You’re not leaving this room until you tell me why you walked into my office looking like a little, downtrodden puppy.”
“Gee, thanks,” you scoffed at his comparison. “Like I said, nothing is wrong!”
Rhys only quirked an eyebrow at you and you let out a noise of frustration. “Fine! Look, I just overheard some people talking about me and not all of it was…
pleasant, okay? That’s all.”
“Who?” Rhys barked out. “What were they even saying? You’re the most harmless person I know.”
You rolled your eyes at his remark.
“No one important and besides, people are allowed to have negative feelings about me,” you sniffed. “Even if it hurts to hear.”
“If it was no one important then you wouldn’t be upset. And no one is allowed to have negative opinions about any of my friends except for me,” Rhys leaned back in his chair and kicked up his feet on his desk before giving you a very feline smile.
You snorted. “Yeah, well, what if it was one of your friends I overheard?”
You regretted those words as soon as they came out of your mouth.
Rhys perked up. “If it was Cassian, don’t pay him any mind. He’s just mad you beat him at poker last week.”
“It wasn’t Cassian. It was Azriel,” you sighed.
Rhys was silent for a moment before he burst into laughter. Your mouth dropped open at his audacity.
“It’s not funny! I’ve spent years trying to be his friend! I don’t know why he hates me so much.”
“It’s funny because I know Azriel would never talk shit about you. He doesn’t even talk shit about the people he does hate and he most certainly does not hate you,” he chuckled. “I don’t know what you overheard but it must be a misunderstanding.”
“It wasn’t!”
“Alright, show me.”
You felt dark claws tap on your mental shield and you let him in after some slight hesitation, letting him view your most recent memory.
“Hm,” Rhys mused when he was done. “I’m not convinced. You should’ve stuck around to hear what he said.”
Hearing Azriel’s words in your head again caused a new round of tears. You tried to hold them back, sniffling but it was no use. Rhys sat up straight when he realized just how upset you were.
“Y/n, please don’t cry. I promise you Azriel does not hate you. I know how awful that sounded but I really think—”
“He does! He’s never liked me! I’ve tried so hard to be his friend, Rhys, and he always ignores me or pretends I’m not there. Every time I try to talk to him he gives me one word answers and runs away with any excuse like he can’t even stand to be around me! I don’t know what I did to make him hate me so much or think I’m an awful person.”
You wiped away the tears on your cheeks, bitterly.
“Azriel’s just…shy,” Rhys said, weakly. “Give him some time to warm up to you.”
“I’ve known him for over fifty years now, Rhys! Hell, he’s already friends with Elain and Nesta and they’ve barely been living here for two years. I think if he wanted to be my friend, it would’ve happened already. He just doesn’t like me!”
The door to Rhys’s office opened right after you finished talking and you stiffened as Cassian strode in.
“Oh, hey, Y/n, I didn’t know you were in here,” Cassian greeted as he shut the door behind him. He stopped in his tracks once he noticed your tears and Rhys’s grimace. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
You groaned, dropping your face into your hands with embarrassment.
“Y/n is under the impression that Azriel hates her.”
“No, I know he hates me,” you said, voice muffled.
Cassian’s booming laughter filled the office, making you sink further down in the chair. What the hell was so funny about this?
“You think Azriel hates you?” Cassian asked in between his laugh. “Y/n, that is ridiculous! He could never hate you. You’re his mate—”
“Cassian!” Rhys rose, slamming his hands down on his desk.
Your head sprung up.
“What…what did you just say?”
Rhys let out a sigh, pinging the bridge of his nose. “Gods damn it, Cassian. Y/n…you weren’t supposed to find out this way. I’m so sorry—”
“Azriel is my mate and he knows? He told you guys but not me? Why…”
Why? Of course you knew why! He never told you because he didn’t want you as his mate. All the air in the room was sucked out, your face turned hot, your ears started ringing. Your mate didn’t want you. Your Mother-blessed mate didn’t want you. You shot up out of your seat, rushing to the door.
“Y/n, wait!”
But you didn’t stop.
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“It’s better this way,” Azriel sighed. “She deserves better than me. She deserves someone as good as her as a mate. She could never want someone like me—I’m not good enough for her.”
“You should at least try and talk to her, Azriel,” Elain replied.
“You don’t understand, Elain. I can’t.”
Azriel sighed, running a hand through his hair. He couldn’t talk to you because the mating bond might snap in place and then you’d be chained to him forever and that was just not fair to you. You deserved so much more.
“It’s not fair that you're making judgements without even knowing her. She’s pretty, she’s kind—Y/n is a great girl!”
“I do know her and she’s not. She's not pretty or kind. She’s not a great girl, she’s a saint. She’s not just pretty, she is the most beautiful girl in the world and she’s so much more than just kind. She’s good unlike me. I’ve…I’ve done so many bad things. I’m tainted and if I allow myself to be with her, I’ll ruin her.”
“You’re being too hard on yourself, Azriel,” Elain sighed. “Besides, shouldn’t Y/n be the one to decide for herself if you’re good enough for her? Me and Lucien didn’t get off to a great start but at least he was honest with me.”
Azriel’s wings drooped to the floor. “You’re…right. It’s not fair to her that I’ve been keeping this a secret all these years. But I don’t want her to feel forced to be with me.”
“She is smart, Azriel, and can handle herself. If she doesn’t want you, I’m sure she’ll be honest about that. But you won’t know until you try. And as much as I love listening to you talk about her—I think I can speak for all of us when I say that you should stop saying this stuff to us and start saying it to her! She probably thinks you hate her with how much you avoid her!”
Azriel’s chest ached at that thought. The last thing he wanted to do was upset you which is why he stayed away.
“But—”
“No more buts, Azriel,” Elain said, sternly. “Tell her before she finds out some other way like Feyre did. You know how much that upset her. Rhys is lucky my sister is so forgiving.”
Azriel swallowed thickly, but rose to his feet. It was about time he faced this, about time he stopped trying to hold his mate at arms length. Even if he felt like he didn’t deserve you, you deserved to know the truth.
“Okay. You’re right. You’ve all been right and I’ve been a coward. She deserves the truth.”
Elain smiled, nodding her head. “Good luck, Azriel. Just remember if she seems reluctant at first, don’t take it to heart. It took all of us some time before we warmed up to our mates.”
He gave her a dip of his head before leaving the library to start his search for his mate. What he didn’t expect was you to come barreling down the hallway with tears pouring from your eyes. His stomach turned over at the sight and he quickly stopped you in her path, grabbing you by the shoulders.
“Y/n, what’s wrong—”
Your eyes widened as you stared up at him.
“D-don’t,” you cried out, shrugging out of his grip. “Please, don’t touch me.”
And then you were off again, disappearing around the corner. He stood frozen in place, debating if he should run after you. But you clearly didn’t want to talk to him. And it was all his fault—the distance he had put between the two of you.
He made his way to Rhys’s office, pushing aside the urge to run after his mate and find out why you were so upset and who he needed to hurt for causing your tears.
When he entered, he immediately knew something was wrong. Cassian was staring at him with pure guilt in his eyes while Rhys stood behind his desk, frowning.
“Azriel, I’m so sorry,” Cassian choked out.
“Sorry about what?”
Cassian rubbed the back of his neck, looking like he wanted to ground to swallow him whole. “I might’ve told Y/n that you're her mate.”
“You what,” Azriel growled.
Cassian glanced at Rhys who decided to jump in before a war broke out in his office. “Honestly, Azriel, it’s your fault for keeping it from her. She was in here crying because she thinks you hate her. I was trying to convince her you don’t when Cassian walked in and let it slip.”
“You’re one to talk,” Azriel spat out. “You hid your mating bond from Feyre too.”
“Not for over fifty years! I would’ve told her if she hadn’t found out. I withheld that information for a few months and look how that turned out. How do you think Y/n will feel knowing you hid it from her for over fifty years!”
Azriel’s wings slumped, his shadows whirling around him in distress. Just the idea of you being hurt by him was enough to make him want to bash his head into the wall. “She deserves better.”
“You’re right. She deserves you,” Cassian said, gently, nudging him with his shoulder. “Maybe this was the push you needed, Az, to finally talk to her.”
Azriel sighed, bowing his head in shame. “I know, I know. And I will—I will go talk to her.”
“I recommend starting with an apology,” Rhys joked but Azriel was hardly paying attention, already sending out his shadows to find his upset mate.
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You were sitting on a hill that overlooked Velaris, running your fingers through the grass. This day had gone from bad to absolutely dreadful in the matter of a few minutes and now you were left reeling with the information that Azriel was your mate. A mate that had kept the bond secret from you. A mate that obviously didn’t want you.
He had said so to Elain. He didn’t think you were pretty or kind or great. It all made sense now, how much he had avoided you in the past. He didn’t want you to figure it out, didn’t want the bond to snap for you. You let out a sigh, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on them.
A light breeze of wind ruffled your hair forward as someone appeared behind you. You didn’t bother turning around, already recognizing that familiar smell of cedar and night-chilled mist. Cassian must’ve let him know that the cat was out of the bag and now Azriel was likely here to beg you to reject him.
“You know, I’ve lived in Velaris nearly my whole life but I’ve never been up here before today.” Azriel’s deep voice broke the silence. “That’s a beautiful view of the city.”
“I know,” you answered, quietly, your voice hoarse from crying. “It’s why I come up here.”
“Do you come here often?” His voice was closer this time and his shadows began to whisk through your hair and under your arms, much like they always did when in your presence.
“Only when I’m upset,” you sighed, blinking away more tears.
There was a moment of silence before Azriel spoke again. “I’m really sorry, Y/n. I did not intend for you to find out about the bond that way.”
“It’s alright,” you said, weakly. “It must’ve been hard finding out your mate is someone you don’t want. I know you’re here to ask me to reject it. I will do as you ask so you can continue on with your life.”
“No,” Azriel spit out quickly, stumbling closer to you. “No, I’m not here to ask you to reject it. I’m here to explain myself…I hate that this has made you so upset.”
He sat down next to you, mimicking your position. You kept your gaze forward, scared to see what you might find if you looked at him. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Azriel. I get it. I, um, I overheard you talking about me to Elain.”
“Rhys showed me what you overheard,” Azriel said, his wings flexing before the one closest to you curled around your form to block the wind. “I wish you had stayed just a second longer, Y/n, because I truly was not saying anything bad about you. I would never—”
“If that’s true then what were you doing? What did you mean when you said I wasn’t pretty or kind or great? What could that possibly mean other than what it seems to?”
“I said that because it’s true. You’re not pretty or kind or great, Y/n. You are beautiful, the most beautiful girl to ever step foot in this world. And you’re not just kind, you’re so much more than that. You are good. You have the heart of a true angel. You are so much more than those three words can describe. I never kept the bond from you because I didn’t want you. I kept it a secret because you deserve someone better,” Azriel confessed.
“And you don’t think you can be that someone for me, Azriel? You’re my Mother-given mate! You want to know something? I’ve always dreamt about finding my mate one day. Hoped that I would get to experience a love like that in my lifetime. And to find out—”
Your voice cracked, tears sliding down your cheeks.
“Please, don’t cry,” Azriel pleaded, taking your chin in his grasp, and turning your head to face him. He cupped your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away the tears. “I longed for the day I would find my mate. But when I finally found you after all these years, I…I didn’t know how to wrap my head around the fact that the Mother blessed me with you. You are so much more than I ever dreamed of. You are all that is good in this world. You bring happiness to every room you walk in. You’re smart. You’re beautiful. The last thing I wanted was to drag you down by shackling you to me.”
“What if it is you that I want? What if I want you to be that person? Did you ever consider that might be a possibility? Because let me tell you something, Azriel. You say I’m more than you ever dreamed of, but you are exactly who I’ve been dreaming of all these years. Someone calm, someone patient, someone good of heart. Someone I can feel safe around. Someone I can call home. What would you say to that?”
“Then I might say you’re an idiot for wanting me,” Azriel chuckled, still stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, staring down at you with those beautiful hazel eyes. “But then I’d probably get down on my knees and beg you for a second chance. To let me prove to you that you have my heart and soul. You have since the day I laid eyes on you.”
You stared up at him, eyes wide with your vulnerability. “And if I agreed to give you a second chance, what would you say?”
“I would say be ready by seven tonight so I can take you out and show you what a girl like you deserves,” Azriel breathed out. “What would you say to that?”
You laughed, the ache in your chest finally soothed. “I would say yes.”
Azriel smiled, a rare and breathtaking sight, before he stood and reached out a hand to help you off the ground. “Good. I was hoping you’d say that.”
You smiled back at him before finally taking his hand.
#acotar#acotar fanfiction#azriel#acotar x reader#acotar x you#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel shadowsinger#azriel fanfic#azriel acotar#azriel angst#azriel fluff#reader requests
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Pleaseeeee can I have a softer Cooper who worries a lot about his girlfriend having to deal with people looking at them weird all the time, but who would be happy to yell "THIS IS MY MAN!" to anyone who would listen?
Willingly
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k
i am already on the soft cooper train oh no lmaooooo just a little bit of soft boyfriend cooper, or as soft as i imagine he can get, being defended by his partner 🤎
request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist
minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: guns, blood, violence, good old fashioned trope fic!
Cooper struggled against your gentle grip, his gloved hand pulling away from yours, fingers no longer entwined with yours. You looked to him, noticing he was avoiding your inquisitive gaze, and then noticed the crudely painted sign on the wall ahead of you. The gates to the nearest settlement were just ahead of you. Your last stop before you headed on to the next job.
“What? Are you embarrassed to walk in here holding my hand, Coop?”
His easy, charming smile seemed a little off as he spoke to you, still looking straight ahead.
“You kiddin’? Darlin’, this is for your benefit. Not many settlements are alright with folks like me at the best of times, but with you on my arm? We’d both be in danger, and I can’t keep spendin’ all my time savin’ you.”
You scoffed, rolling your eyes.
“I can hold my own. You know that.”
There was no response, but you knew better than to keep fighting your corner in this particular arena. So instead, you sighed, placing your hands which now felt so incredibly cold and empty, back into your pockets to keep them from mindedly grabbing Cooper’s hands again. You couldn’t be too annoyed. For someone as stoic and cold as he could be, the fact he tolerated holding your hand at all was a pleasant enough gesture. But his willingness to offer up any form of physical affection dwindled completed when there was a risk of running into people. He became reserved, quiet, well-behaved almost. It was something you hadn’t expected from him, to be shy or to allow someone else’s opinions to hold him back. And admittedly, a lot of the time, you had worried that it was because he didn’t want to be seen with you. But you knew it was the other way around in his mind. He was afraid of how people would look at you.
As though he could hear your thoughts, knowing you well enough after all this time together, Cooper spoke finally as you sidled up to the gates.
“You wake up to this face smiling. You call me handsome. You say I’m charming. Good lookin’ I might be in your books, but there ain’t a lot of charm left in these old bones, sweetheart. I couldn’t talk my way out of an argument, and since you keep remindin’ me that I’m not allowed to cause problems everywhere we go…”
He tapped his thumb against the barrel of his holstered gun.
“… Then I just better not give anyone any more reason not to like me.”
“Well, I like you, Coop.”
“And I will forever question your judgement on that, kid.”
Smiling, you both passed through the open gate of the settlement and separated with a nod to get the supplies you needed. Quicker, and safer, to go separately. But still, you kept your head down, Cooper with his ragged mask up and his hat brim tipped to cover as much of his face as possible. Quiet, subtle, nondescript.
It didn’t stop them though, three of them. Pointing towards you, setting their beer bottles down on the stained and rusting bar top as they rushed to follow you.
“Hey! Hello there, pretty lady! You all alone?”
Turning, you spotted the colour of the uniform first, immediately recognising that you had made a mistake in even acknowledging them. That telltale burnt orange jumpsuit. The arrogance in their smug smiles. The Brother of Steel.
“No. I’m not alone.”
“Sure looks like you are… you know, maybe you could come on over and we’ll by you a cola?”
They laughed amongst themselves as you walked on. That one answer and a quick disappearing act was all you were willing to give them, turning quickly back and trying to lose them in the crowd as they slapped each other’s backs and spat to the ground.
And you thought you had been successful. You found a trader with everything you needed on your list before you returned to wait just beyond the gate for Cooper, no further interruptions to your day from the louts at the bar. But the entire interaction had out you on edge, so much so that when Cooper appeared behind you, leaning in without you noticing to whisper in your ear, you jumped out of your skin. Luckily, he was quick, and managed to grab your wrist before your fist struck the side of his face.
“Jumpy, aren’t you? Maybe you don’t think I’m so handsome after all.”
His wink made you blush, it always did, and you bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from grinning like a fool.
“You surprised me is all, smartass.”
Cooper smiled, tightening the grip on your wrist and pulling you closer to him. You feigned some resistance, pretending to put up a fight against his grin, his charms, his strength. But you were following his pull, your lips almost touching his before the blow was landed.
Cooper’s body was knocked completely off balance, his body falling to the ground in a cloud of dust. Turning in the direction he was hit from, you found yourself staring down the three members of the Brotherhood from the market. Holding back some of the choice words you had for them, you managed to narrow it down to one question simple enough for even them to answer.
“What the fuck are you doing?”
Shocked by your ungrateful attitude, one of the men, the largest of the three, stepped forward and pushing your shoulder with his finger.
“We’re saving you from assault, lady! This monster had its hands all over you, but don’t worry, we’ll take care of it. And you’re welcome.”
You scoffed, face going red with rage as you knelt to help Cooper up.
“You’re not saving me, asshole! You’re ruining the fucking vibe, you dweebs.”
Again, a far more polite term than you had wanted to use, but that didn’t seem to make the men any less aggressive towards either Cooper or now you. The largest of the men grabbed your arm, pulling you back up and away from the hand that Cooper had held out to you.
“Oh… you’re one of those freaks! No wonder you turned down some good old-fashioned heroes like us then.”
One of the others nudged you to the side, the other pushing Cooper back down to the ground with a kick, turning around as all of them converged on you until your back was against the wall. Nowhere to go. Trapped by them as they made their disgusting comments.
“Why would you waste your time on some abomination like that, huh? You into freaky stuff? Cos I could sure show you a thing or two. What’s he got? Like two cocks or something weird like that?”
You spat out your retort, well aware of the repercussions, but not caring.
“He could be feral and I’d still let him touch me before I even thought about letting any of you near me.”
Bracing for impact, you squeezed your eyelids shut, opening them again moments later when you realised you hadn’t been hit yet. Instead, all three of the Knights were on the ground, Cooper kneeling over them as he tightened the lasso and added the long length around their wrists for measure.
“Oughta keep ‘em long enough for us to make our escape, hm?”
You nodded, smiling, surprised still at how effective he was at handling anything the Wasteland threw at him.
“And I did it all without too much violence and noise, like you asked.”
“My hero.”
You swooned playfully, watching him as he made his way to stand beside you, both of you looking down without an ounce of pity at the men who writhed before you in the dirt.
“And look at you, shouting all those kind words about me for anyone to hear.”
“I keep telling you, Coop. I can hold my own, and I don’t care what people think.”
“You sure about that, darlin’? The likes of these fellas don’t put you off none?”
His eyes darted towards the Knights, now trussed up and struggling against each other on the ground, straining their necks to move their heads out of the line of Cooper’s gun.
“What? You think I’m put off by the Brotherhood? Yeah… and the rads put me off stuffing tin after tin of delicious cram down my throat.”
Cooper grabbed your hand in his, initiating the contact for the first time, and pulled you away back onto the cracked road. He knew he’d let go before you hit the next settlement, but he felt a little bit better about the risks associated. Especially since he had to admit, you could hold your own. And you were determined to do so when it came to him. It was nice to feel like he could let the affection be reciprocated.
#fallout#fallout amazon#x reader#finnie writes#cooper howard#the ghoul#fallout fic#cooper howard x reader#the ghoul x reader#cooper howard fanfiction#cooper howard one shot#cooper howard smut#cooper howard imagine#fallout tv#fallout tv series#walton goggins#cooper howard x fem!reader
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tongue tied - kim chaewon , huh yunjin
genre; fluff (a lot of it), angst, high school au, sfw
pairing; chaewon x female reader x yunjin
content; a lot of pining, mentions of injuries, soccer and cheer-leading but there's no need for any knowledge of the sports, mentions of insecurities and anxiety, idk there's nothing more to warn about; it's sfw
synopsis; it's the last year of high school, the girls' soccer team is on a roll and the cheer team wins yet another elite competition. it seems as if things cannot get any better for the girls, however, love is never easy, especially when the captain of the soccer team, huh yunjin, is in love with her best friend who she is too afraid to lose to make a move on. that is until her new team/schoolmate, kim chaewon, shows interest in the cheerleader and sometimes all that's needed is a final push to take a leap of faith before it’s too late.
wc; 25.9k+ words (the plan was to make it much shorter...sorry)
songs; bad habit - steve lacy , ditto - newjeans , things i'll never say - avril lavigne , to love - suki waterhouse , what would i do? - strawberry guy
masterlist
“And lastly…” The girl trailed off as they took the last few steps between the high bleachers, the sun momentarily blinding them as the big field that was filled came into view. The voices echoed through the space with shouts, cheers and whistles being blown. “This is the field where we hold pep rallies, events, games, practice et cetera.” She explained, gesturing towards the green grass that didn’t look real from the strong colour it carried, shining as it looked watered.
Chaewon’s eyes scanned the bleachers behind her where a couple of students were sitting, looking around and over the green field. Jimin–the girl who showed her around school this morning–pointed towards the girls who were in white shorts and light blue jerseys.
“There is the girls' soccer team, we have a boys' team too. Both play in the state championship this year to try and get into nationals again,” she continued to explain. “We have basketball, swimming, water polo, table tennis, track–” Her gaze shifted where Jimin pointed towards the other side of the field.
“And a cheerleading team as you can see, however, they are a level seven team that competes on an elite level.” Chaewon felt herself flinch at the three girls who were flung into the air, making her squint her eyes to see better as the sun was blinding her. She had seen cheerleading before at her previous school, but not as advanced as this team looked.
“What was that?” She asked as the three girls fell back down, being caught by the guys who were their bases.
“Uhm, kick-kick double basket,” Jimin replied seemingly having the stuff memorised.
“And who’s that?” Chaewon continued to ask, subtly pointing with her head towards the girl in the middle with a single base under her this time, doing a heel stretch.
“That’s Y/n, the captain, a talented flyer and tumbler, just generally good at cheerleading.”
“Oh wow.” Jimin hummed at Chaewon who continued to watch the cheerleading team, fully enthralled by what was going on.
After a good minute of the two girls looking at the team doing baskets and other stunts, Jimin spoke up, realising that she still had to help the new girl out a little bit more before getting to watch her friends’ morning practice.
“So, are you interested in any of the teams? Have you done anything? Swimming? Table tennis? Track?” She questioned.
Chaewon took one last glance at the girls and guys from the cheer team before she walked with Jimin. Her eyes fell on the soccer team that was in the middle of a practice game against each other.
“I was part of the soccer team.” The shorter girl mentioned as they walked along the empty track field, hands in the pockets of her jeans to occupy them with something. Her eyes followed the ball that was passed around, the callouts of the girls being incoherent to her ears from far away.
“Any good?”
Chaewon hummed, nodding her head as she looked away from the field and at Jimin. She took pride in her soccer skills as she had played for as long as she had walked. “Captain and starting striker.” It was enough to shine through her little shell whenever soccer was mentioned and she could go on for days talking about it and how much she loves playing.
“Well, I’m not sure if you will make it into the starting lineup now that the season has started, but I can talk to Yunjin.”
It was unfortunate that her family had to suddenly move to another city a month into her senior year. It was unexpected, but Chaewon couldn’t argue about it and so her fate brought her here. She had to settle in and try to fit in too which usually wasn’t a problem, however, this was the last year of high school and people were bound to already have their close friends.
“Yunjin?” Her head tilted at the name and Jimin nodded her head as she proceeded to explain.
“The captain and current starting striker. She will talk to you and the coach.”
“Oh.” She gave a curt nod, knowing already that to have the spot she used to have on her old team she would have to work for it in the new environment. Chaewon was sure of her skills in the end even if the season had already started, she couldn’t stay benched for all of it.
“That’s her,” Jimin said as the whistle blew, pointing towards the girl who ran across the field and away from the rest of the team.
“Ew, ew, ew, ew.”
“Ew?” Yunjin confusedly questioned, her eyebrows furrowing, but her grip on the petite girl stayed as she had her arms wrapped around her from behind.
“You’re all sweaty, Jen.” Y/n cried out, trying to squirm out of the girl's hold.
Yunjin huffed and let go of Y/n, the shorter girl turned on her heels and gave her a small shove against her chest to have her step back. The ginger grumbled and pulled up the hem of her jersey to wipe away any remaining sweat on her face after practice. The second the whistle blew and she was dismissed she grabbed her stuff and ran over to the cheer team.
“Stop flexing your tummy for everyone.” Yunjin groaned as her stomach was smacked and she let go of her shirt. Her eyes back on the cheerleader who cringed as the captain's stomach was just as sweaty. The ginger clicked her tongue and grabbed Y/n’s hand to wipe it with her shirt.
“God, you’re so dramatic.” She commented, her eyes stuck on Y/n’s face as the girl smiled at her, it was enough to make the corners of Yunjin’s lips lift too. It was as if she was struck by something from nowhere, everything inside her stomach started to shift and she felt giddy. It was her source of energy because it would always surge through her whenever she looked at Y/n; she considered the girl her lucky charm.
Her eyes crinkled at how good it felt; her best friend was the best feeling in the world.
“Don’t you just love it when I am?” Y/n questioned with an eloquent grin as she knew the answer.
Yunjin could feel her face heat up with her own words as Y/n picked up her gym bag after pulling away from the taller girl. “I tend to love everything about your annoying self.” She commented, her heart picking up like it always did when she said these things to Y/n. It made her nervous and Y/n’s replies only made her more flustered and she found herself digging through all the signs to understand if it was what she hoped it was.
“You’re my favourite person,” hearing that from Y/n always brightened not only her day but her soul which could at times fall into a gloom of insecurities.
Yunjin was the captain of the soccer team and had been for the past three years which resulted in a lot of faith being put on her, trusting her sportsmanship and leadership, especially during soccer season. The team, the school, the coach, her friends and family, and people on the bleachers all counted on the team and it was her job to make sure they worked as a team. Any errors always gnawed at her and made her doubt her skill as a captain.
She knew that she wasn’t the only one who was under a lot of pressure, the girl who clung to her arm as they waited for the rest of their friends was under just as much pressure. All her friends were, but she could only find solace in one person and one person only: Y/n. Yunjin could open up about anything to her, tell her everything–almost everything–because she knew that Y/n would be there for her as she had been there since middle school, sixth grade.
Along the way that trust and adoration seemed to evolve into more, but how couldn’t it? Y/n was everything Yunjin dreamed of and she had never dreamed of more than soccer. It wasn’t like she had a picture of a dream partner or life before, but after she met Y/n and with years that went by and when high school started, she understood what it meant for a dream to get built around a person. Her dream was soccer and she built it around Y/n as each choice she made involved thoughts of her best friend.
When high school started she realised what it meant to build her dreams around a person. It meant to be in love.
“Who’s that with Jimin?” Y/n diverted the conversation she was having with Yunjin, placing her chin on the taller girl’s shoulder as she stood on her toes, arms wrapped around the ginger’s waist. It felt warm, but not the kind of warm Yunjin felt from the sun and running around on the field; it was the type that brewed on the inside like a fireplace that warmed up a home.
She hummed and her eyes searched the field until they landed on Jimin walking along the running track with a girl she hadn’t seen before. “I don’t know…” She trailed off, her eyes squinted the slightest to try to see if she maybe did recognise the girl, but she didn’t. Yunjin squirmed at the ticklish feeling when Y/n blew air against her ear, the girl giggling as she let go of the ginger who turned.
Before she could utter a single word, Y/n grabbed her hand and tugged it so she would walk with her. “Zuha–” She called for the cheerleader who was packing up the last of her stuff before turning to the two. Y/n received a hum from her friend as Yunjin let herself be dragged after her. “Did you hear anything about the girl Jimin is with?” The shorter girl questioned, gesturing with her head towards the girl in question.
“Nope, I don’t remember her mentioning anything.” Kazuha, one of the tumblers on the team, replied as she walked over to the two. All three turned back around and looked at the two.
“That’s the new girl.” Their attention was torn away from the two as they looked at the guy who was one of the bases, Yeonjun.
“There’s someone new starting?” Yunjin questioned, confused by the guy’s words. She frowned, her thumb smoothing over Y/n’s knuckles as she tried to figure out why someone would change schools in their senior year. Not to mention, school started a month ago.
“Well, she’s not here to just look at the school.” Yunjin rolled her eyes at the guy’s mordant remark as it was obvious.
“We’re going to be late for bio,” Yujin exhaled after she ran across the field with her soccer gear to them.
Yunjin looked at the time on her phone as she leaned against the wall outside the locker rooms after getting changed. “You’re not coming?” Yujin questioned as she walked out of the girls’ soccer team's locker, fixing the bag on her shoulder.
“I will be there–” She was cut off as the girl waved her off, passing by her.
“Yeah, you want to walk with Y/n, don’t be too late.” She dismissed and Yunjin rolled her eyes at the second striker who walked away.
The girl wasn’t one to break her routines, not the ones with Y/n at least. All classes started in around eight minutes and Y/n’s physics class was right on the way to bio. Yunjin picked at her nails as she waited for the girl, thinking of her day as she tried to plan what she would do after school. It all consisted of soccer and Y/n as she either would practise by staying behind at school or would leave with Y/n to spend time.
She sighed as she hated the way time always went by so slowly without the cheerleader, but Yunjin couldn’t help but also hate how fast it went by with Y/n there. It was almost as if it wasn’t enough, 24 hours of the day weren’t enough for her with the girl and she had a feeling it would never be.
The thoughts of the girl raced in her head, making her heart race too as they always ended with her trying to think of ways to let Y/n know. How it would be if she spilled what more laid behind her as she loved Y/n more than a best friend. How it would be once Y/n would hear these words that ran deeper than adoration and how good it would feel when she would hear those same things leave Y/n’s lips. It made her smile as she continued to pick at her fingers and she tried to contain it to not look stupid, but she was a fool for her best friend and Yunjin didn’t mind it one bit.
However, her stomach would always turn inside out at the thought of the opposite happening if she told Y/n the truth about what coursed through her veins when she was with her. The thoughts of rejection, loss, longing, and dreams being shattered. Yunjin couldn’t afford the loss of someone alive because it would be too painful, and Y/n would be too painful to lose.
Then came the thoughts of rejection, but not losing her best friend either way because she knew Y/n better than that. The girl wouldn’t leave her simply because Yunjin was in love with her, but there was a possibility that she wouldn’t return the feelings. Those thoughts seemed to tie the biggest knots around her heart; the thoughts of Y/n not feeling the same, to begin with even if she wouldn’t put distance between them after.
Yunjin was stuck on the belief that Y/n was in love with her whether that was true or not, it didn’t matter. It was what made her heart content; thinking about silently being in love with each other and not taking the step–the silent agreement of loving and not finding anyone else even if they didn’t take the step to be more than silent lovers.
Of course, Yunjin dreamed of more, but she could settle on skinny love as long as it was Y/n.
Those giggles, smiles, eyes, Y/n’s voice, words, lips, the girl’s heart and soul; it was all more than enough for her in a silent agreement of loving each other but never confessing it out loud.
She was too scared to say those words out loud because, at the back of her head, she knew that there was a possibility that maybe she was wrong about it all. The thought alone was enough to keep her words at bay to not have to face the possible reality of being the only one.
“You’re looking all cute again.” Yunjin looked up, scrunching up her nose to rid herself of the smile that had stitched itself on her face while she waited. Y/n smiled and grabbed the girl by the hem of her hoodie, tugging at it and making the taller girl walk with her.
“I like your jacket,” the ginger complimented as she had on the school varsity jacket that held Yunjin’s name and number, being oversized on Y/n’s petite body.
“It’s from my favourite closet.” The smile came right back onto Yunjin’s lips as she looked over Y/n who was in her jacket. The cheerleader walked closer to Yunjin and grabbed hold of her arm, wrapping it around her shoulders as they walked through the hallway to head for their lockers and then to class.
“Do you have any plans after school?”
“You didn’t ask me to hang out yet so no.” Yunjin chuckled at Y/n’s words, giving the girl a light shove as they approached the girl’s class.
“I will wait by my car after classes end.” She settled.
“Yeah, I will see you at lunch…You’re going to be late.” Y/n showed her lock screen to Yunjin, her eyes first landing on the wallpaper that was her during one of their late-night Facetime calls before seeing that class started in four minutes.
“I don’t care,” the captain tried to stay nonchalant about it, wishing to spend at least a few more minutes or at least seconds with the girl. She knew that the next time she looked at the clock four minutes would already have passed because it didn’t wait around when they were with each other. Yunjin needed some more time to prepare for the next two classes without Y/n who would feel like they dragged on for ages even if she had their other friends to keep company.
“You do,” she watched as Y/n turned on her heels as they stood outside the open door to the classroom. The girl pressed it as Yunjin tried to keep her attendance in check because bad attendance and grades meant no soccer.
“I really don’t.”
“I can bet that the second I walk inside I will hear you run.” Y/n teased and Yunjin looked away at that, licking her lips.
“No, I won’t, but you should head inside since class starts soon.”
“Or I should head inside so you can hurry and not be late?” The ginger looked back at Y/n who was looking up at her with a wide smile, tongue poking at her canine before she bit her lower lip. It made Yunjin take in a breath as she felt her heart tumble down onto the floor for Y/n again as she couldn’t help but fall every time; waiting for Y/n to pick it up and carry it the way she would carry the girl’s.
Oh, how proudly she would carry Y/n’s heart if she had it; Yunjin would take care of it as if her life depended on it because it did. Her happiness depended on Y/n’s happiness.
“No, I don’t care about being late.”
“Sure, Jen,” Y/n giggled and wrapped her free hand around Yunjin’s waist to hug her before they parted ways. The captain without question returned the hug as her arm draped around Y/n’s shoulders. That sweet flowery scent invaded her and she loved it; the most when the cheerleader left it to linger in her bedroom after they hung out. It brought her the same type of comfort that her home did, Y/n was her home.
“I will see you at lunch.” The shorter girl hummed and tilted her head to look up at Yunjin while pulling away to leave a kiss on the girl's warm cheek before giving her a small push so she would let go.
“You’re about to be late for real,” Y/n commented while Yunjin watched the girl walk inside, her eyes widening and bringing her out of the daydream that Y/n was before bolting through the hallway.
Chaewon had never been one to silently sit alone and away from everyone in a classroom, but she couldn’t help but feel intimidated. She wasn’t one to approach either because of her shy nature. All those friends she had made as a kid were back in her hometown. It felt different now that she was in 12th grade compared to middle school or lower. It didn’t feel as easy to approach someone.
Slowly she was coming to terms that she would possibly spend her senior year alone at the back of the class. It was her pessimistic and despair-filled side talking as it appeared stronger ever since she was told that they were moving to a new city.
Her last hope was the soccer team, but even that felt like a far reach as the friendships maybe wouldn’t go outside the field. Everyone already had their friends and she now felt like an outcast for being new so late into high school.
It wasn’t fair and she hated it.
She picked at her nails, staring down at them while trying to bury the nerves and anxiety of a new place. The sound of new laughter made her look up as the classroom was loud the whole time and the teacher had yet to arrive. Her eyes landed at the entrance of the classroom, she caught a glimpse of that orange hair she had seen on the field earlier as the soccer captain was hugging the cheer captain.
She found herself staring, eyes glued to the cheerleader who stepped inside the class with a smile. Chaewon shivered, assuming it was from the cold table under her bare forearms as she pursed her lips, fighting the urge to let a small smile form on her lips. Y/n was too pretty and her smile didn’t look like it should be ignored without smiling back, but then again, Chaewon was invincible and would stay invincible until the end of the year.
Y/n wasn’t looking her way, she was talking to a few girls at the front.
It wasn’t like Chaewon knew the girl, but it already made her think about how much she would possibly miss out on if she didn’t get the courage to talk to someone. Maybe not the cheer captain right away, but anyone. It would be sombre to be alone during the whole senior year.
The bell rang and she watched as everyone proceeded to take seats in the chairs that were still empty while the teacher entered. It made her wince at how the chairs screeched along the floors, the chatter turning into hushed whispers as the man at the front put his stuff down.
“Looks like your seat is at the back today, Y/n, maybe we will go through a class without talking since it’s next to Kim Chaewon, our new student.” His words were followed by small giggles and Y/n who clicked her tongue.
Chaewon felt herself get breathless at the panic she felt of people suddenly noticing her after being a ghost at the back. She had no clue what to do so she avoided gazes that were on her all while suddenly feeling too warm in her clothes.
She could feel that her face was red. Or maybe it wasn’t? Now she was panicking over whether she looked anxious or not. Her heart rate increased, pounding against her ribcage so harshly it made her feel weak. Was she going to have a panic attack in front of everyone on her first day? It was starting to muffle her ears and her fists clenched as they were clammy now.
Chaewon’s wide eyes gazed around the classroom as the girl sat down beside you, the scent of sweet flowers managed to cloud her, pulling her away from the anxiety and grounding her. The class went almost completely silent, the hushed whispers even more faint now as the teacher started to talk. She tried to calm herself down before it got worse.
“Where did you transfer from?” Heat ran across Chaewon’s back when the girl beside her spoke up after a few minutes of the lecture, everyone too engulfed to take notice of them at the back.
She parted her lips, suddenly not remembering where she grew up before she managed to push an answer from her throat with a slight quiver. “Austin, Texas.” Chaewon cleared her throat and swallowed, subtly glancing over at the girl beside her who was looking at the front. It sounded stale and she was afraid that she ruined her only chance to make friends.
“That’s far—” It was, it truly was far as she now lived in Long Island, New York. She looked to the side, her eyes meeting Y/n’s and she held her breath for a second as she hadn’t expected the girl to be looking back at her, not with those intense eyes. Chaewon couldn’t hold eye contact, her gaze faltering onto the table. “I assume that it kind of sucks to move, especially in your last year.”
“It’s–Yeah, it does suck.” She couldn’t help but admit to how much it sucked. It felt alienating and a big part of her was still pessimistic about this change and another still held some resentment towards her parents even if it wasn’t their fault that her mother got transferred to the new job.
Y/n hummed at that, the girl unable to stop casting glances at the cheerleader, constantly picking up on her features with each glance cast at her. Her nerves eased, but new ones appeared as she was sitting beside a pretty girl who was talking to her with such ease it felt like they already knew each other.
There was a flow as Y/n continued to ask questions about her throughout the lesson–Chaewon realised what the teacher meant at the start, but she didn’t mind because suddenly all those doubts about her senior year disappeared.
Before she could take in a word the teacher said the class was over and her most dreaded day was slowly becoming one that wasn’t dragging along, but flying by.
“Okay, what does your schedule look like?” Y/n asked as everyone was gathering their stuff, the two girls taking their time and staying behind. Chaewon showed her phone to the girl where she had her schedule.
“We have physics, maths and P.E. together, you also have classes with some of my other friends–maths now and lunch after so…” Y/n trailed off and the girl got her phone handed back. Chaewon’s momentary confusion dissipated and she got the memo, grabbing her stuff to walk with the girl.
“I forgot to ask about her number and now she might as well be lost somewhere at school. I was supposed to introduce you two.” Jimin explained and Yunjin did her best to listen and indulge in the conversation after the new girl was brought up, but she was too busy waiting for Y/n to finally arrive at the canteen.
“Where’s Y/n?” She asked as the new girl hadn’t managed to pique her interest.
“Are you listening?” Jimin questioned.
“What does the new girl have to do with anything?” The ginger questioned, poking at the food with her fork. She had yet to meet her and she hadn’t listened to what Jimin was saying at all.
“You’re the soccer captain.”
“Yeah,” she confirmed, looking up at Jimin with a frown.
“It’s like talking to a wall.”
“Tell me about it,” Yujin commented, earning laughter from the other two at the table.
“You don’t think you could fix her a spot on the team?” This time Yunjin was listening and her frown deepened for a second.
“The season already started and we’re a full team,” it felt like a risk to take someone new onto the team when they had been playing together for months now, some even years.
“She said she was captain and starting striker in her previous school.” The girl beside her replied with a shrug.
“I–” The ginger didn’t get to reply as she got distracted by the three girls that were heading their way. There were just certain auras that drew people to them, Y/n and Kazuha were two people with that kind of aura, or maybe it was just Y/n since that was who Yunjin always found herself drawn to.
“Looks like she’s not lost at all,” Yeonjun commented, right beside Y/n was the new girl and Yunjin knew just how easy-going her best friend was. Anyone was able to be comfortable around her, all it took was a few words from Y/n and the person was lost, anticipating what she would say next. Yunjin knew that and she loved that.
Chaewon looked over at the four people at the table, that nervousness clouded her again as she had just been able to slowly crawl out of her shy shell around Y/n and somewhat with Kazuha. The eyes on her made her want to retract right back inside her shell of comfort and security.
She almost flinched at the hand that brushed over her before it grabbed gently hold of her wrist. The talking between all of them was still being processed as the girl was too busy looking around to avoid making eye contact first. She pursed her lips and held her breath at the nerves as the cheer captain pulled her over to the table.
“And this is Yunjin…” The cheer captain introduced everyone at the table, quickly making them acquainted.
For the first few minutes, Chaewon knew that she was mostly sitting in silence, unsure of what to say, however, she was more than thankful for Y/n who included her and worked as a mediator, especially between the two other girls–Yunjin and Yujin–who played soccer. At the back of her mind, Chaewon knew that she was enthralled by Y/n, feeling like she wouldn’t feel as welcomed and at ease if it hadn’t been for the girl. The girl was her only safe space in the huge school at the moment.
She quickly came to the realisation that she had been worrying too much and that maybe her senior year wouldn’t be too bad as she got along with both Yunjin and Yujin.
“What do you think about Chaewon?” Yunjin hummed at the question, her eyes trained on the screen of her phone that she was playing on. Y/n’s fingers continued to comb through her hair, making occasional small braids as she rested her head in the girl’s lap, lying in Yunjin’s bed.
There wasn’t much to think about, Yunjin was still getting to know the girl, but from today alone she had an answer that was good enough.
“She’s cool, I don’t know what I was expecting, but yeah, she’s chill.”
“You two seemed to get along with all your soccer talk.”
She glanced up at Y/n through her lashes, rolling her eyes at the teasing smile that rested on the girl’s pretty lips. Yunjin bit her lower lip for a second and looked back at her phone screen to finish up as she continued to talk,
“Whatever, it’s one of the things we have in common so far.”
“No matter how cool you think soccer makes you, you’re such a nerd about it.”
“Hey!” The ginger complained, turning her phone off and putting it on her nightstand as she sat up, turning to face Y/n who was leaning against the headboard.
“But in a good way, I love seeing that it makes you happy and keeps you passionate,” she watched the smile grow bigger on Y/n’s lips as the girl grabbed hold of the strings of her hoodie and tugged her closer.
Soccer did keep Yunjin passionate, but her best friend was yet another thing that kept her passionate; their friendship and Y/n were something she was utterly passionate about.
“I have the best support system known to man, consisting of my family, friends and most importantly you.” She told the truth and nothing else to her best friend, grabbing Y/n’s hands that were holding onto the strings of her hoodie, cupping them in hers and warming Y/n’s colder hands.
The cheer captain hummed at that. “Ditto.”
“So…What do you think about Chaewon? You seemed to get along.” Yunjin questioned, dropping her gaze onto their hands as Y/n was playing with her fingers, intertwining them and pressing their palms together as they sat facing each other. That smile was one the ginger couldn’t even fight, Y/n’s touch was soothing and spread a warmth through her that reminded her of home.
“She’s cute.”
One thing Yunjin hated was that she had grown so attached and used to Y/n and her being this one force of a silent agreement that these unelaborated comments made her stomach drop. The ginger knew that she shouldn’t be so sensitive, but each day she woke up with a fear that maybe the silent agreement was one-sided.
Each night she went to bed and woke up afraid that things would be different. What if someone took her place? Not as a best friend because she knew that was set in stone, but in this fantasy she hoped was true.
Yunjin pushed through it though as she knew better and knew how wrong it was to feel this way. “Cute?” She curiously asked, waiting for Y/n to elaborate, hoping Y/n didn’t find Chaewon cuter than her. Was ‘cute’ enough for Y/n to drop the silent agreement? The one Yunjin hoped was real.
“With how shy she is.”
She looked up at Y/n and nodded her head in understanding, familiar with Chaewon’s shy nature after today.
“You’re not gonna replace me, are you?”
“Oh my God, Yunjin.”
“Yunjin!?” The ginger let out in panic as her hands were dropped by Y/n who raised her eyebrows, giving her a once over with a judging look.
“Yes, Huh Yunjin,” Y/n confirmed with a click of her tongue, never calling her Yunjin because she had always been Jen to her.
“Stop it.” She complained, loving how Jen was the only thing Y/n called her and everyone else would call her Yunjin. It was like Y/n was the only one aware of her other name even if it wasn’t true. Everyone just silently agreed that Jen was reserved for Y/n.
“Why on earth would you ever even say that.”
“I’m just making sure,” she whined back at Y/n, but she knew that she didn’t have to, it was a joke because she knew that she would never be replaced as the girl’s best friend. That was why it was the least of her worries.
“I’m hurt–like actually hurt that you even have to make sure—” Her lips parted as Y/n was about to get up from the bed, Yunjin earning a huff of disbelief from the girl. “I think I’m gonna cry.”
“Now you’re being dramatic, come here.”
“No!” Yunjin laughed when Y/n yelped as she wrapped her arms around the girl’s waist after she had stood up from the bed. She pulled her back down, Y/n landing on top of her with her back, trying to wiggle out of Yunjin’s grip who continued to giggle at the poor attempts.
“I love you and know that you would never replace me in any way possible. You and I are forever like we promised in sixth grade.” She mumbled as Y/n heaved a sigh, the striker felt the girl give up and relax in her hold. Yunjin took the chance to bury her nose in Y/n’s hair as the girl rested her head on her shoulder, staring up at the white ceiling as a moment of silence fell between them.
“Yunjin…”
“Mm?” Yunjin pulled back and lifted her head only to flinch when Y/n turned around and flicked her forehead. “Ow–”
“Don’t joke like that again, I don’t want to think about it ‘cause it hurts to think about it.”
She pouted at those words as she sat up with Y/n sitting beside her, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, I know some people can’t help the fact that they are stupid.” Y/n dismissed with a smile as she looked over her shoulder at Yunjin.
“Yeah, you’re walking tomorrow,”
“Who says I’m staying the night?”
“Me and I still pick you up even when you stay at home, now sleep.” The ginger demanded, pulling Y/n back down and reaching over for the bedside lamp.
“But I–” She shushed the girl, pushing her head back down on the pillow as the lights went out and she pulled the duvet over them.
“Goodnight, Y/n.” The girl beside her heaved a sigh and moved, Yunjin offering her arm as per usual, letting Y/n rest her head on her shoulder and hug her waist, knowing she couldn’t sleep without hugging something or someone.
“Goodnight, Jen,” Yunjin smiled at the name and hummed, the fear of being replaced when she woke up less present as the girl she loved fell asleep in her arms.
Chaewon realised that she had been too pessimistic, but the good thing was that she could change her views under the right circumstances where changing her perception would come in handy. Throughout the week she felt less and less dread for school when she went to bed and then woke up after being lucky enough to be found by Y/n on her first day. She felt welcomed and instantly accepted by the group without any tension.
Tuesday came and she felt her purpose start to sparkle again as she was accepted onto the soccer team even if it wasn’t in the starting lineup that was already set in stone when the season started.
For a second when practice ended and they had played a practice game where she was put as a striker and on the opposite team as the captain, Huh Yunjin, she thought that the girl would be a rival; a competition to beat and replace on the field.
The view was also changed quickly; Chaewon saw no need to strive for her old spot as a captain, however, she did find the need to be in the starting lineup and hoped it would come to her soon even if it wouldn’t be as a main striker.
Yunjin became someone she saw as a person who she could get the most out of when they played together as days passed through the week and they played alongside each other. Outside the field, they were becoming good friends and she could say it about the rest too.
Days passed quicker than she had expected after dreading moving to a new place.
So before she knew it; it was Saturday and Chaewon found herself at a convention centre for a local yet huge cheerleading tournament. She had never been to one, so naturally, she wanted to stick to the group of people she came with; Yunjin, Jimin and Yujin.
They had arrived an hour before it was the team's turn because the competition lasted a whole eight hours and there were still three hours left after the good four-minute performance that was in 30 minutes. Chaewon knew very little about everything, but the other three girls filled her right in, especially Yunjin who had a hard time being quiet about it.
“I still need to give Y/n her bow, Chaewon and I can go while you two get to the seats.” Chaewon didn’t get a word in as they were walking through the crowded centre, her arm sleeve was grabbed and she was pulled aside by Yunjin.
“Could you hold it for a second?” She hummed, taking the bow from Yunjin who started to look for her phone. Chaewon looked over the dark blue and white bow with gemstones, glancing between the captain and the way before her to not walk into anyone.
“Where are you and Y/n?”
Yunjin stopped in her tracks as she tried to hear what Kazuha was saying over the noise in the background as Y/n wasn’t answering her phone.
“I kind of lost Y/n somewhere and she doesn’t have her phone.”
“What? Where are you then?”
“I just got to the main entrance.” Yunjin groaned and turned on her heels as she started to walk her way back to the main entrance. “How do you lose her?”
“I’m not the one who lost her, Y/n always gets distracted and loses us, plus I can’t see her in this crowd, she’s too short.” Yunjin snorted at that, she knew her best friend like the back of her palm and how she could see something and walk off from everyone else without a word. The 5’3 flyer was good at getting lost.
“I can see you–your hair.” The ginger's eyes started to search as she was approaching the main entrance.
Chaewon stopped in her tracks as the captain she had glanced at a good minute ago was no longer beside her. She kind of sensed that it couldn’t be too good; she had the cheer captain's bow.
Her eyes searched through the crowd of people, but her height did no justice. The next best thing that came to mind was to stand still and hope that they would run into her while she tried to get her phone out of her pocket.
Just as she fumbled out her phone, her head snapped up, “Chaewon!” A smile unknowingly tugged on her lips as she saw Y/n quickly running over to her. The girl in the cheer uniform made her stomach nervously flutter ever since she first talked to her and that usually was the case with pretty girls. However, that feeling passed after a few hours of talking, but that little flutter was slowly developing into a crush instead of disappearing and Chaewon was fully aware of it.
She did feel guilty about it though; Yunjin and Y/n were in a relationship or dating, one of those. The girl didn’t know which, but either way she didn’t want to get in the way. Well, she hadn’t asked, but she was quite sure because everyone was close in the friend group, but the two seemed to be more than just friends. From Chaewon’s point of view at least.
“I lost Zuha, I don’t have my phone and Jen has my bow–” The girl went on talking as she grabbed hold of Chaewon’s hand and pulled her to the side, away from the walking crowd. She bit on her lower lip to get rid of the smile she became painfully aware of. “Where’s Jen?”
“Uhm–I lost her, but I have the bow.”
Y/n turned around and Chaewon showed her the bow in her hand, making the distress on Y/n’s face wash away, being replaced by a smile. This time the smile was directed solely towards Chaewon and it made her chest fill up like an air balloon with how much warmth spread through her, all running up to her cheeks.
“You’re my saviour today–” The girl was about to reach for it but stopped, “could you help me put it on, I don’t have a mirror and will mess it up.”
Chaewon wanted to argue that the girl could do it once she was back with her team or have Kazuha or Yunjin help her simply because her hands were trembling and she was scared she would mess it up. The last thing she wanted was to get even more awkward even if it was only coming from her side.
However, she knew that she didn’t have the heart to deny the girl nor did Y/n have the time to wait around as the performance started soon.
The girl hummed with a nod and sucked on her lower lip as Y/n stepped closer to her, tilting her head down. Chaewon was probably an inch and a half taller, managing to reach just fine.
“You know how to do it, right?” The question made her look down at Y/n as she reached for the already-done ponytail. This was probably the closest she had been to the girl and it was making her even more nervous, especially when Y/n looked up at her through her lashes.
She gave a short hum and nod of affirmation–again–the girl in front of her let out a breathless chuckle. Chaewon did her best to keep her attention on Y/n’s hair as she pulled the ponytail through the tie, making sure the bow stayed in place the whole time.
“How are you feeling about the game on Friday?”
She glanced away from the hair for a second, seeing that Y/n was looking up at her the whole time, it was making her feel warm.
“Shouldn’t I ask how you are feeling about the performance you have coming up?” Chaewon asked back.
Her first game on the team was next week despite not being on the starting lineup or getting to play much she was still more and more jittery the closer the game was.
Y/n subtly shook her head. “I don’t like talking about them right before, makes me too nervous…I like to pretend that I’m here to be part of the audience until we are on the stage.”
“Okay–” She acknowledged, licking her lower lip as she concentrated with her eyes back on the ponytail. “I’ve always been comfortable on the field, but I’ve played on the same team for years so I’m kind of scared even if I might not play much.” The girl couldn’t help but admit, trusting Y/n to carry these words with tenderness as she didn’t have anyone to open up to anymore. Chaewon felt alienated no matter how welcomed she had been, she had yet to get close enough to anyone to open up but Y/n made it easy.
There was a pull towards her and her aura; one that made words slip past lips much easier.
“Do you think that’s because you still have to get more comfortable with your teammates or with the fact that you’re playing on your home field even though it doesn’t feel like home?”
The words made Chaewon stop for a second and look Y/n in the eye again as she hadn’t been able to tell what it was that made her feel scared when the field had always been her home; her comfort. Y/n just made it clear for her; the exact problem was that it had always been a home when she played in her old jersey, with her old team and this had yet to start feeling like a home.
“I think that’s it, everything feels foreign even though I’ve gotten accustomed to how you guys play, it feels like something is off.”
Y/n hummed at that.
“I think that once you get on the field during an actual game, adrenaline will make you feel right at home like this is right where you belong…it will happen so quick you will only realise it after.”
She pulled away from the cheerleader, the sweet scent fainter as her senses were being filled by the dull air of the centre again. The words made her think about it, trying to figure out if that would be the case, it sounded too simple.
“You think so?” Chaewon asked, her hands fiddling with the loose material of her jeans as she watched Y/n who made sure the bow was secure.
“Yeah, your home is where the ball is no matter who you play for.”
It suddenly made sense to Chaewon who smiled as Y/n had managed to change her perception of things and it made the tension wash away. If anything, Chaewon was now looking forward to the game to finally be able to find her home again by playing where the ball was.
“Thank you for that, I needed someone to talk to about it—I like talking to you.” She felt herself blush at her own words, unable to recall when she was so easily flustered by someone, let alone by the words that left her lips. Her hands clutched onto the material of her jeans as Y/n smiled even bigger at her.
“Well, I don’t mind helping and you have my number if you want to talk.”
Chaewon didn’t get to get another word in though as her heart started to sling around in her chest and they were joined by the other two. The girl remembered that she maybe should try to avert her eyes away from Y/n when the girl was engulfed in a hug by Yunjin.
“Where were you?” The shorter girl complained and Yunjin pulled away from their brief hug, a frown graced her features for a split second at the bow in Y/n’s hair that she always helped her with. However, she dropped it because she knew that Y/n always relied on Yunjin’s presence before her performances—the ginger was Y/n’s cheerleader—and she didn’t have much time left now.
It wasn’t talk though, just her presence alone and she had no clue why and neither did the cheerleader have an explanation when she asked aside from it being her Jen.
“I was looking for you–” She wanted to continue but couldn’t let go of the thought that she hadn’t helped Y/n with her bow. It wasn’t the end of the world, but it was part of a habit, it was like a ritual before every competition that they had done since they were kids. “When did you put this on?” Yunjin curiously asked, her fingers doing a minor change to the bow and Y/n looked up through her lashes at her hand.
“Chaewon helped me because we’re short on time–” They truly were short on time when Kazuha linked her arm with Y/n and pulled her away from Yunjin.
“We have to go, Yeonjun texted that the coach needs us all together,” Kazuha informed them as they were already walking away.
Yunjin only waved, knowing that Y/n didn’t like it when someone wished her luck or talked about the performance beforehand.
“Sorry for losing you like that.” She apologised to the girl beside her as she had only realised that Chaewon wasn’t with her once she reached Kazuha.
“It’s fine, it wasn’t for too long.” Yunjin chuckled at that with a nod before they made their way to Jimin and Yujin.
Chaewon found herself in an even bigger crowd once they had made it to the other two and not long after she got to see the cheer performance of her life. Of course, the school’s team did great, but even the cheerleaders at her old school didn’t cheer as well as Yunjin did beside her while they watched them perform.
She was sure she hadn’t seen two more lovesick people when they won and she watched Y/n run right into Yunjin’s arms. Chaewon watched from the sidelines as Y/n clung onto Yunjin who practically carried the girl. She congratulated the other two people she was close to from the cheer team, Yeonjun and Kazuha.
What caught her attention were Yeonjun’s words.
“I’ve never seen two more annoying best friends, the love makes me want to throw up.”
It made her frown and look at them in confusion, but Yeonjun was already talking to someone else and Y/n had walked over to her.
Best friends? Love? It could mean so many things, couldn’t it?
Had Chaewon read too much into their relationship? However, two best friends could be in a relationship, couldn’t they? The longer she observed them the more confused she grew as the signals weren’t mixed, but clear, however; clear with what intentions? Were they together?
Chaewon was too shy to forwardly ask, especially if she was right and they were a couple. She didn’t need Yunjin to assume that she had a crush on Y/n–she did, but that was her secret–it would be awkward and she didn’t need to lose friends she just made.
Loud.
Loud was one of the only words that could fill her head as she nervously fiddled with the polyester of her white shorts. She was benched, but that didn’t mean that her nerves weren’t spiked as she watched the team play. The crowd on the bleachers was loud and the only few times her eyes drifted away from the ball was when the cheer team would motivate the team and make the crowd even louder.
One cheerleader still stuck out to her. God, Y/n stuck out like a sore thumb in Chaewon’s eyes after knowing her for two weeks and she was stuck in a dilemma. Was she supposed to forget about her crush or keep crushing in secret even if Y/n wore Yunjin’s varsity jacket with the number 8 and the girl’s last name? It wasn’t like her crush was hurting anyone as long as she kept it to herself, and if it did, the only person it would hurt was Chaewon.
It made her space out once again, her eyes losing the ball and getting stuck on the setting sun in the distance as the crowd's noise disappeared.
It wasn’t right, she was sure that if Y/n and Yunjin weren’t in a relationship, they at least had to be dating while slowly pursuing something with how close they were.
However, Y/n made her feel so at home in a foreign place that she sometimes doubted her assumptions because of how close she was to the girl. The cheer captain was hard to crack with how affectionate and caring she was.
Y/n was caring, kind, observant to the people around her, intelligent, athletic, pretty, and bright—Chaewon realised that she was starting to list things about Y/n in her head once again and it made her feel guilty once she remembered how Yunjin and Y/n looked at each other.
Ideally, she would want to date the girl and slowly pursue something more than friends while they were still getting to know each other so it wouldn’t be a deal breaker if she confessed as a friend. It seemed perfect since they had just met. Or maybe she could set a standard to find someone like the girl?
It did not matter how many times she tried not to, Chaewon kept spacing out with the same difficult thoughts.
She cursed Y/n for bringing her such comfort yet she was more than thankful.
Would it be wrong to test the waters because as far as Chaewon knew some people still went out with others during the early stages of dating? Just to show her gratitude.
But Yunjin; Chaewon found a great friend in the captain.
She had yet to get the clear meaning behind the words Yeonjun said a week ago.
Chaewon jumped, flinching at the cold hand that brushed over her arm.
“Oh–I’m sorry?” Her eyes widened as she looked to her side at Y/n who let out a small laugh at the reaction. That momentary coldness she felt disappeared as heat ran over her whole body, certainly leaving her ears redder than they already were.
“It’s fine, I didn’t notice you.” Chaewon breathed out, rubbing her clammy palms against the fabric of her shorts. She looked around to see that the cheerleaders had spread out, seemingly taking a break for a few minutes. Her gaze went back to Y/n and her stomach flipped when she remembered the thoughts that she just had.
She scooted a bit closer to her teammate to make some more space for the cheerleader on the bench. Amidst the fresh scent of the green grass that had been watered, the scent she had grown familiar with danced its way around her as Y/n sat down beside her. Chaewon froze, glancing down as their knees touched and she tried her best to pay attention to what Y/n was saying.
“I noticed you spacing out and thought that it could have been because of what we talked about.”
Y/n truly was observant and it was admirable, but now Chaewon had to lie because she couldn’t tell the girl that she was daydreaming about her.
“Oh–well…kind of, there’s just a lot on my mind lately.”
“Do you want to talk about it or get your mind off of it? Maybe the latter considering the circumstances.”
She chuckled at the girl's words and nodded her head because the last thing she needed was to get her head occupied with more stuff in case she would be called to sub in.
“What are your plans for the weekend?”
“I don’t have any yet, well–” Chaewon stopped for a second to contemplate whether or not she should ask if Y/n wanted to hang out. However, did Chaewon want it to be a normal hangout? Not really unless Y/n wasn’t truly single. “Probably practise some on my own.”
Chaewon decided to wait until she knew what exactly Y/n and Yunjin were.
“You’re like Yunjin, you two could probably head together.”
Chaewon looked down at her cleats as she grabbed hold of the bench, almost jolting at how she brushed her hand over Y/n’s for a second. She seemed to be the only one to notice as the cheerleader was looking over the field.
“You two are close.” The girl pointed out the obvious and tilted her head to the side to look at Y/n. She watched how the smile grew slightly bigger at the mention and she understood that even if she wanted to she didn’t stand a chance if just the mention of Yunjin made Y/n smile that big.
“We’ve been there for each other for so long, Jen means the world to me—she’s my person and always will be.”
Yet Chaewon couldn’t help but admire it, wishing to have something similar with someone. Y/n looked at her and giggled, Chaewon catching the small tint of pink that shaded the girl's cheeks, but the same happened with hers as she had been staring at the girl once again.
She was worried it would become obvious soon enough.
Yunjin took a deep breath as she had been in her headspace the whole time, fully indulged in the field and game. She could feel the sweat dripping down her forehead, whatever loose hair strands that fell from her ponytail were sticking to her skin.
The score was still 0 - 0 and she knew that they weren’t aiming for a draw or a simply good game. That was not what the coach wanted, their coach was harsh at times, but it always came with the best results.
Yunjin would always beat herself up though, but it was her dream and dreams meant sacrificing even a piece of herself.
If they lost or had a draw then they didn’t do their best.
That was why she could only spare the person she had been dreaming about for the past three years a second long glance as she was waiting for a throw-in from one of their defenders.
That godforsaken feeling of longing, love and fear still slipped through her strongly made facade that she put up on the field when she saw Y/n laughing with Chaewon. Y/n made all her walls crumble so easily.
It made her exhale deeply to try and wash away that tinge of jealousy she felt. At the back of her head, she knew that this skinny love maybe wouldn’t last or maybe wasn’t even real and that any could sweep away her biggest dream.
Y/n was becoming closer to Chaewon, not as close as she was with Yunjin, but it gave her zero reassurance. Yunjin couldn’t tell if she was close as in best friends or close as in love with Y/n anymore, she hated thinking about being the only one. Yet she couldn’t find out as she bit her tongue and focused back on the game when the ball got thrown to one of the midfielders.
Chaewon’s conversation with Y/n was interrupted as the crowd started to cheer louder, the two joining in anticipation as they watched the midfielders create a perfect opportunity for the forwards when the ball got passed to Yujin. The captain was open as she was quicker on her legs than the defender who was tailing her.
It was a perfect opportunity to finally set a score of 1 - 0 in the last 15 minutes of the game when Yujin lobbed the ball over to Yunjin.
All that loud cheering turned into furious' ‘boos’’ and shouts of disapproval and dissatisfaction at the late tackle that ended with Yujin on the ground and the whistle being blown amidst the wail of pain.
Chaewon widened her eyes with her heart racing, unsure if it was because of what just happened to Yujin who was aided right away or the coach telling her to quickly warm up to get on the field.
It wasn’t long until Yujin was being assisted off of the field to get taken to the hospital, giving Chaewon a thumbs up despite the tears in her eyes.
She felt jittery once again, the loud cheers that were erupted by the cheer team going right back to bring up the spirit of everyone. It put so much more on her than she already felt as she got on the field with her heart jumping without a stop against her ribcage like a bouncy ball.
Yunjin was worried, to say the least, she hadn’t played long with Chaewon but she’d seen the girl's skills and she was good. However, she had no clue how well she worked under pressure, especially in important games. She wasn’t doubting Chaewon, the girl used to be a starting striker and captain just like Yunjin.
The worries of both girls’ disappeared right after the whistle blew and the game was back in play after the free kick. Something sparked within the both of them, seemingly sending the spark to each other as chemistry kindled between the two.
Yunjin always excelled, going beyond what was the limit and she took notice of the fire in Chaewon who pushed beyond a different limit, one she wasn’t sure she could push. Any other day she would see it as a threat–especially as the captain and with Chaewon’s old position and title–but she couldn’t, not when they were attacking the goal once again, creating a perfect opening with a few minutes left.
If they missed this opportunity they would have to try and push for a goal during overtime instead of wasting it to keep their winning score.
So the ball got lobbed over to Yunjin who ran into the penalty area the second the ball crossed the line. It wasn’t a hard decision, it never would be because she would never be selfish on the field. She had the opportunity to score a goal; Yunjin half-volleyed it over to Chaewon who had a better opportunity to score.
Y/n had been right all along and Chaewon hadn’t smiled as big as she did now ever since she landed at JFK airport when she scored. Her body was engulfed in the thrashing hugs of her teammates. Maybe she could find a home here after all as the adrenaline made her feel like she was floating in her zone of comfort again.
The bitter taste in her mouth was no longer present, replaced by the sweet sound of the whistleblowing not long after; winning 1 - 0.
“Huh and Kim.” The two girls didn’t get to join the celebration of their teammates for longer than a few minutes before being called by their coach.
Their chests were still heaving with exhaustion and the coursing adrenaline in their veins as they glanced at each other in confusion. The people around them celebrated, the people dissipating from the bleachers to congratulate the team and head home, the clock striking 9 P.M.
“Great play from the both of you, especially at the end—I just finished talking to Yujin’s dad and as it’s looking right now she won’t be playing.” The two nodded, feeling relief at the praise, but concerned at their teammate's state who was at the hospital.
“What happened?” Yunjin asked, her forearm coming up and wiping away the sweat before it would trickle down to her eyes.
“It looks like a sprained ankle so she won’t be able to play for the rest of the season which brings us here—” Yunjin glanced over at Chaewon who was attentively listening to the woman in front of them. “Chaewon will be part of the starting lineup as a second striker for the rest of the season, the decision is made based on skill.” The ginger knew that their spare second striker wasn’t nearly as good as Yujin and that Chaewon was perhaps–definitely–better than Yujin herself.
The coach nodded, dismissing the two as she walked away.
“I hope we can work with a perfect dynamic both on and off the field, Chaewon,” Yunjin said, turning to look at the shorter girl. The new starter parted her lips before closing her mouth, hesitating about what to say which Yunjin had grown used to as Chaewon was still getting comfortable around them.
She smiled at the girl and stretched out her hand and Chaewon accepted it with a smile. “I will do my best—” They gently squeezed before letting go and Chaewon grew the courage to compliment her captain. “It was a great assist on your part, thank you for the opportunity.”
“Always, we’re a team and I will always prioritise our whole team over my desire to score goals.” The two laughed at Yunjin’s words as they headed over to the huddle of cheerleaders, teammates, and other students while talking with each other.
The thoughts of competing with each other disappeared as they worked better together than against each other.
“You two did so well, that pass and goal were–” The rest of the cheer captain's words were muffled as her face ended up in Yunjin’s jersey who grabbed hold of her best friend when she jumped into her arms. It warmed Yunjin as she smiled, squeezing Y/n in her arms.
“Thank you, pretty girl, but your cheering kept us going,” Yunjin replied and Y/n pulled away with a grin.
“What about us?” Yeonjun questioned and Jimin was right behind him, holding the camera—pictures for the senior yearbook—Kazuha jogging over to the rest.
“I guess you guys did okay.” She said with a shrug, receiving dirty looks from the two cheer members. The warmth from her arms disappeared and her eyes trailed over to Y/n to see the girl grab hold of Chaewon’s hand and pull her over to them.
“Do we leave for the beach?” Jimin questioned.
Chaewon’s head perked up, looking away from the hand that was clasping onto hers but Y/n let go once they reached the group.
The rest agreed and Y/n turned to her with a smile. “We usually head to the beach after with a few more people to celebrate, you included. Do you need a ride?”
It wasn’t long before she was sitting on the beach after being squeezed into one of the few cars as there were probably a dozen other students. The sun was just about to disappear fully, the weather was more chilly by the beach, the girl in a pair of loose jeans, a hoodie and her varsity jacket with the number 52 on it and her last name.
She had been sitting and talking with mostly Jimin who was sitting beside her on one of the blankets, Yeonjun joining in as he sat across from them on a beach chair he looked two times too tall for. Kazuha had dozed off on Jimin’s shoulder just an hour after they arrived. A small campfire–one of the two where another group was sitting occasionally butting into their conversations–kept them warmer while keeping the atmosphere.
The shore where the waves gently brushed was also filled with laughter and shouts as a soccer ball was passed around as they played rondo. Part of that circle was Yunjin and in the middle with a guy was Y/n, running around and trying to get possession of the ball.
Chaewon hadn’t had the chance to talk much more to Y/n after they drove off.
She was a wallflower; Y/n was a social butterfly.
She’d argue that they were two worlds apart, but she was proven wrong as butterflies were always drawn to flowers. Y/n had approached her the first day and had continued to do so—
“Are Y/n and Yunjin together?” It barely made it past the ocean breeze, gentle waves, laughter and crackling fire as she mumbled the words into the air, they almost managed to get blown away by it. Her fingers fiddled with the soda in her hands, nervous to say the least as her heart pounded at the question she asked.
—but as much as butterflies were drawn to flowers, they also danced among each other the way Y/n and Yunjin did.
She glanced at Jimin who hummed, the girl looking at her and what she got in return was a breathless chuckle.
“Does it look like it?” Chaewon shrugged at the question, watching as Yunjin ran away from the circle after tunnelling the ball between Y/n’s legs, the cheerleader chasing right after her.
Their relationship was contagious and it made Chaewon smile, wondering if there was someone like that out there for her. Yunjin was more than lucky, she envied it but not in a bad way, she only wished to find happiness in a new place. She kind of had, but people always wanted more than they had, didn’t they?
“They look like the type that went from best friends to lovers.” She admitted.
Their dynamic reminded her of two best friends while also having that extra step that made her believe that they were more. Those affectionate gestures, the way they looked at each other and held each other, those glances and touches she had taken notice of.
Chaewon rested her elbows on her knees, the soda can in hand as she spun the tab around with her finger. Her eyes left the two girls as Y/n tackled Yunjin onto the sand, their laughter being almost obnoxiously loud. They landed on Jimin who had been looking at the two and now looked at Chaewon with a slightly confused frown that disappeared as she shook her head with a smile.
“They are the first but not the second.”
Chaewon frowned. “So they aren’t dating either?” She asked, wondering if they were in the stages of trying to pursue something. That guilt she felt for crushing on someone her new friend was with slowly started to disappear when the girl beside her shook her head.
“Nope, they’ve been best friends since middle school—” She watched as Jimin looked over at the two girls before looking back at her. “You’re crushing on one of them, aren’t you?” She teasingly asked and Chaewon took in a deep breath and held it, a blush dancing its way onto her cheeks and ears.
Her knee got nudged by Jimin’s and she exhaled the breath that she was holding. “Y/n kind of caught my attention I guess.” She shyly mumbled, letting her hair fall and cover more of her face as she stared down at the blanket under her.
“I’m vouching for you and if you need some good vouching, there’s no one better than Yunjin.” It made sense because who would be better than Y/n’s best friend? She could maybe look for some moral support and help. Chaewon knew that if the two were best friends she would need as much of Yunjin’s trust as she needed Y/n’s.
“Ugh, there’s like a whole sandbox in my shoes.” Y/n groaned.
“I guess that’s what happens when you go to the beach and start tackling people,” Yunjin replied, looking at the girl who was sitting beside her on the sand after tackling her.
Y/n gasped and tilted her head, “does it, Jen?” She mocked and Yunjin chuckled as the girl gave her a light shove as she slipped her shoe back on after emptying it of sand.
The wind blew colder and she watched the way Y/n’s hair blew out of her face, the girl still brushing away some strays that got in the way. Yunjin felt herself hold back a shiver, knowing that the smaller girl was cold as she only had a long sleeve and no jacket. It made her manoeuvre around, the girl giving her a confused hum as she looked back at Yunjin.
“Why are you always so underdressed?” She genuinely asked as she couldn’t remember a single time the girl had dressed according to the weather. It earned her a small chuckle as she settled behind Y/n who leaned back into Yunjin, having the girl sit between her legs. The striker adjusted her varsity jacket and covered Y/n with it too before hugging around her shoulders to keep her warm and to simply be close to the cheerleader.
Yunjin no longer paid attention to the way her heart constricted before exploding as she had grown used to it after all these years. Especially after coming to terms at the beginning of high school that she was in love with Y/n. A small smile rested on her lips as she propped her chin up on top of Y/n’s head, cupping the cold hands that had started to fiddle with her fingers.
After a minute of silence, she got her reply.
“‘Cause it always ends with you hugging me or letting me borrow your clothes. I like that.”
Yunjin was so in love that it hurt and it hurt more each time she bit her tongue to prevent herself from saying it out loud to her best friend. It made her heart twist and pump extra hard, sending warmth throughout her whole body; each time it happened she felt at home.
That warmth she felt with Y/n was the warmth of a home.
She wanted to believe that neither said anything to make sure that it stayed this way forever. Yunjin wanted to be stuck in this moment forever even if she wasn’t in a relationship with Y/n at this moment. She could be stuck in a moment like this forever simply because it was just them and she never would have to worry that someone or something could ruin it. It was like a safe space where she knew that she had Y/n and would be the only one to hold her.
Yunjin was also aware that time didn’t stop, not even for love.
“I can do that without you possibly getting sick.” She mumbled. The girl in her arms hummed as their fingers tangled with each other. Yunjin stared ahead at the ocean before them, hoping to find them on the horizon; that somehow her dreams would happen.
She lifted her head as Y/n turned the slightest in her hold and their eyes met. A smile on her best friend's lips whose hand found its way to the necklace she was wearing, toying with the pendant all while bringing Yunjin closer. It was these moments when Y/n pulled her even closer, where she looked Yunjin in the eye in a serene silence that brought them to Eden. It was these moments that made the girl believe that Y/n was in love when she just silently looked her in the eye.
Yunjin dreamed of getting rid of her bad habits where her mouth was glued shut, where she bit her tongue as it got tied when she was around the girl no matter how much those three words bubbled in her stomach. She dreamed of it being Y/n’s lips that glued her mouth shut by pressing against hers, that it was the girl biting her tongue, tying it with hers, but how did she tell that to Y/n?
She always wondered what it was that Y/n saw and looked for in these moments with the way she waited. Was she waiting for Yunjin? Or did the soccer captain look too much into it? Was she looking at just a best friend or someone she wanted more with just like the striker did?
Doubts, fears, worries, and insecurities all made her mouth get stitched together.
The ginger watched as Y/n’s gaze dropped, falling to the pendant of the necklace around her neck. Yunjin’s life would be mundane without Y/n in it, the girl who drove her insane in so many ways and there was no one else she could see herself as in love with.
“I’m lucky to have you.” Was what finally left the girl’s lip with a tired giggle after.
“I think I’m luckier,” Yunjin replied as the girl dropped her head, resting it under Yunjin’s chin who hugged her closer around her shoulders to shield Y/n from the wind.
“Yeah, you are.” She chuckled at the words, smiling as she knew how lucky she was to have Y/n as her best friend. Yunjin knew that she was one of the luckiest people on earth by getting to feel Y/n’s love no matter in what form it came and with what intentions. She also knew how lucky she was to have the chance to fall in love with her best friend, to love her even if it was in silence.
The sun was out and warming up the day, the grass on the field was not as green as the grass on the school’s field. It held a yellowish hue to it at certain spots on the enclosed soccer field. There was a gentle breeze of cold and Yunjin kicked the ball, the sound of it hitting the crossbar echoed through the air and she huffed a breath of exhaustion.
“You’re a surprisingly good playmaker for a centre forward.”
“I used to be a second striker,” Yunjin replied as the ball smoothly glided between her feet and she walked over to where Chaewon was sitting on the grass with her water bottle. “Then our main striker quit and I became captain and main striker because of skill plus my height.” She proceeded to explain.
Yunjin put her hands into the pockets of the trainer she had on to not get too cold in just shorts. She carefully juggled the ball as she stood a few feet away from Chaewon. It was slightly after 1 PM and they had been doing 101 drills after Y/n suggested to ask Chaewon.
Aside from that, Yunjin wanted to get closer to the new girl, so the best option was to ask Chaewon to hang out.
Chaewon was starting to become a close friend like she was with her other friends. There wasn’t anything to complain about, especially with how much they had in common and would play alongside each other for a whole season.
“Coach was sceptical of putting me as the main striker, thought I was better suited for second–” Chaewon started. “Mostly because of my height.”
Yunjin looked over at the girl who smiled up at her, chuckling as she nodded her head at the words. “I think we can make the most out of the current lineup.”
Chaewon hummed at that as she put her water bottle down, slightly tugging onto the sleeves of the compression shirt she had under her jersey. It was a surprise when she got a text from Yunjin in the morning, asking if she wanted to practise some drills.
That feeling of possibly being alienated had started to fully dissipate.
She busied her fingers by pulling onto the strands of grass, the soft thuds of Yunjin juggling the ball filled her ears and she found herself thinking about the same thing once again. It felt like a good idea to tell Y/n’s best friend that she was starting to like the girl.
That thought had passed her mind a few times since last night, especially when she knew that she would spend time with Yunjin alone today.
It could make things easier, especially since Chaewon knew that she was good at holding back because she was shy. She feared she would bite her tongue hard and long enough that by the time she would let go, it would be too late. The last thing she wanted was to regret something because her tongue was tied, but it was hard to simply untie knots of shyness that had been with her since she was little.
She wished she could be more like some people around her and stop biting her tongue; Yunjin felt like a good example from her point of view. The girl always had Y/n’s attention and didn’t shy away.
A deep breath slipped past her lips and she looked up from the grass and at the girl in front of her. There was a mix of anxiety and fear swirling in her stomach, but she forced some courage into it, trying to think of how she only would live once and this was her senior year.
It was truly difficult and it got only harder the more she started to think about it; the more she would overthink, the more reasons came up not to do it. Dating within a friend group? What if Y/n didn’t find her interesting enough? What if she simply wouldn’t be good enough? That paired with the fact that Y/n’s standard was probably impossibly high seeing how her dynamic worked with her best friend. Was Y/n even into girls?
It all made her want to curl up and hide as the dark gloom of anxiety covered the sky and cast a shadow over her.
Why was liking someone so hard and scary?
She was supposed to drop the pessimism though.
Chaewon couldn’t let up pursuing something with someone whom she grew attracted to in the blink of an eye. What if this was meant to be and she would waste it because she was scared and shy? That seemed to be the dealbreaker.
“Would you vouch for me if I liked someone you know and are close with?”
“Yeah of course, why wouldn’t I?” Yunjin replied right away after the momentary silence that had fallen between them. It was a bit surprising to hear the girl be this straightforward, especially after seeing Chaewon hold back and shy away often. It let Yunjin know that she was comfortable with her.
Yunjin obviously would vouch for her new friend and she couldn’t deny it because Chaewon was truly a great person and friend even if they had known each other for only two weeks.
She got a hum from the girl, her eyes darting between the ball that she was juggling and Chaewon on the grass. Yunjin was about to ask who it was; her mind swirled with the people Chaewon had gotten close with and she was about to utter the words ‘Is it Jimin or Zuha?’ Maybe even Yeonjun no matter how insufferable he could be at times. However, Chaewon was much quicker and Yunjin’s world possibly crumbled into pieces even quicker.
“Okay, ‘cause it’s Y/n.”
The ball dropped, Yunjin felt her heart fall right with it and she couldn’t force a breath out for what felt like hours but was a few seconds. Unable to breathe for the few seconds that it took for her to register the fact that everything would change.
What had yet to come was the acceptance of how everything would change.
How did she come to terms with losing someone she loved and being nothing more than best friends forever? How did she accept the fact that she would possibly never get to know or get to tell?
Once she was able to get a shaky breath out she realised that they were growing quicker than usual. Something was wrong, something definitely was wrong as a fire that destroyed everything in its way started in her make-believe world where it was her and Y/n forever whether they uttered it out loud or not.
She was so set on her make-believe world that Chaewon liking the girl she loved didn’t cross her mind because in her head it was Y/n and Yunjin even if it wasn’t written for everyone to see.
“What?” Yunjin’s voice was laced with confusion, that confusion wasn’t directed at Chaewon liking Y/n. That confusion was directed towards her dreams, that stupid horizon where their dream started. Had Yunjin been stupid enough to think that the horizon was reachable?
That confusion was the uncertainty of what was next. What came next if Yunjin was in love, but too scared to confess because she didn’t want to lose a best friend, but neither did she want to lose a possible lover to someone else? Lose her by not telling her the truth before someone else gets the chance before Chaewon could unknowingly steal Yunjin’s dream.
“Huh?” Chaewon squinted her eyes as the sun peeked out from behind the clouds that were starting to clear from the sky. Her hand came up to her face to shield her eyes as she looked at Yunjin.
“Huh?” Was all that Yunjin could utter back, her hands jitterly pulling at her trainer as she started to feel uneasy at the fear growing in her.
“Y/n, I like her.” She repeated, assuming that Yunjin didn’t hear what she had said at first. Chaewon repeated them firmly, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t crumbling on the inside because she was unsure of Yunjin’s reaction or if the captain would consider her enough for Y/n.
“Oh.” That security disappeared from Yunjin’s life and was replaced by what she knew would be a constant fear of losing Y/n to someone else because of an even bigger fear.
It made Yunjin crouch down before she sat down fully in front of Chaewon. Her eyes darted around, trying to find something to look at that could distract her from the forlornness and apprehension.
“Yeah.”
“That’s…” There were no words for her to describe what she felt let alone words to say to Chaewon who just admitted to liking the girl she had been in love with since middle school. The girl she had accepted she was in love with at the start of high school. The girl she had wanted to confess to since then, but had always been too scared because of what a high-risk gamble it was.
“Honestly, I was hesitant until last night at the beach after I asked Jimin about it because I thought you two were together.”
Her eyes briefly darted back to Chaewon who scratched at the back of her neck with a slight frown. Was Yunjin being obvious? If so, did Y/n notice it too? She didn’t want Chaewon to think that she as Y/n’s best friend didn’t find her good enough for the girl. At the same time, she didn’t want Chaewon to take the chance.
She was stuck in a dilemma within a dilemma. The captain was starting to drown in despair, her tongue getting tied into a tighter knot than ever before as she so badly wanted to tell Chaewon that she loved Y/n.
“We aren’t but…” Yunjin tried her best to push through, she was fighting for it, but it made her heartbeat worse than it was a second ago. The thought of losing a best friend felt just as scary as losing a possible lover. Her hands balled up the material of her shorts as she stared down at the grass, letting her hair fall and cover the frown on her face all while listening to Chaewon talk.
“I didn’t want to get in the way of anything and I was worried because–” Yunjin’s chest felt heavy and it only got heavier with all these suppressed feelings that grew like a garden. “Well, I wouldn’t stand a chance against you and it’s not like I ever wanted to see you as competition over a girl so I would get over my crush on Y/n if that was the case…I didn’t want to ruin our friendship either since I like where it’s heading.”
“Chaewon…” She didn’t manage to push anything out, there was a lump in Yunjin’s throat that wasn’t letting her speak. Those suppressed feelings she always refused to let out were blocking her airways.
“It’s a relief, now I stand a chance, you know?”
“Chaewon, I–” She looked up at the girl who had a small smile on her face and Yunjin smiled back at her while feeling how her heart was being pierced by thorns. It felt like she was being mocked by her feelings, laughed at by her own heart for being so stupid. This was her chance to make sure that her new friend would get over her crush on Y/n.
“I think you stood a chance right from the start.”
However, Yunjin didn’t stand the slightest chance against her fears and so Chaewon didn’t have much to worry about from the start.
Now each day that Yunjin woke up was filled with such fear and dread that she didn’t want to wake up. Yunjin not only woke up afraid but went to bed even more scared, fearing that when she woke up she would do so to heart-shattering news.
The week went by with Yunjin feeling sick, her heart ached and she felt lost in the sea of choices that she had. There were so many that she could make yet it felt like she had no choices at all. Who was hurting her? It wasn’t Y/n. It wasn’t Chaewon. Yunjin was hurting herself.
Slowly she started to take notice of how over the week Chaewon had already started to make subtle moves despite her shy nature. Yunjin now saw how easily flustered the girl got and how giggly Y/n was with her too. With each time she took a deep breath, bit down on her lower lip, gazed at the girl she was in love with and reminded herself of how Y/n would forever be her best friend and that that’s something that should make her feel over the moon.
Yet all it did was make her happy and ache in pain because she would always have Y/n, but not in the way she wanted to have the girl. It was frustrating, especially because of the agony it caused her.
She knew that Y/n wasn’t spending less time with her because she wasn’t and Yunjin would never mind Y/n spending time with someone else. The problem was that Y/n was spending time with someone who liked her, someone Yunjin said she would vouch for yet every time Chaewon’s name left Y/n’s lips she couldn’t do more than hum because her voice had started to strain from the suppressed feelings.
What used to be Yunjin walking Y/n to class started to feel like Yunjin dragging herself after Chaewon and her best friend. However, it felt like reassurance every time Y/n would tangle her fingers with Yunjin’s fingers while walking in the middle. Her eyes paying attention to the other girl who would talk before looking over at Yunjin with a smile that made her smile right back.
What type of reassurance was Y/n giving her? Was Y/n sensing that something was off? Yunjin didn’t want to be obvious, but she also wished she knew if that was reassurance of her not being replaced or reassurance of their skinny love going to last for years on end.
She was already reassured that she would never be replaced and she would never doubt that. What she did doubt was the fantasy she had lived in that she still hoped was true. Y/n loved her back.
Yet it lay heavily on her chest whenever she saw Y/n and Chaewon together.
Her eyes kept glancing towards the open door of the classroom, not paying much mind to anyone else around her. It had been a month since Chaewon transferred, tomorrow would be two weeks since Yunjin’s stomach started turning and throat close up.
It was hard to move at times, scared she would do the wrong thing, say the wrong thing because of how she had been forcing everything to stay inside. That garden of feelings in her lungs was starting to get too big for her to hold in.
Yunjin was holding back the door that was ready to burst open with emotions while constantly sweeping more of them inside.
The second she heard Y/n’s laugh, she felt a mix of relief and fear, knowing that her best friend was near but that she was probably with Chaewon. She and the girl had this class together, the class before was without Y/n who had physics with Chaewon. Yunjin knew that she would see Chaewon walk the girl to class, that was why Y/n wasn’t early like she usually would be so they could talk before class started.
It was hard to hate Chaewon, Yunjin truly had no reason to hate the girl as she watched them outside the classroom. The new girl was perfect and if Yunjin hadn’t been in love with her best friend she would wish for nothing more than for Y/n to be with someone as good as Chaewon.
Maybe she should wish for it right this moment because what if Yunjin wasn’t enough? How could she be when she didn’t dare to even express herself? She always prioritised Y/n’s happiness in the end.
Chaewon was right there and Yunjin too, but even if she was, she knew that it was miles away with how those words couldn’t seem to reach Y/n. They never would as long as she screamed them on the inside.
Y/n laughed, she smiled, her eyes sparkled, that little jump she did when excited, the way she paid attention, and held eye contact; it all hurt from how beautiful Yunjin found it. It hurt even more to think that if she did nothing about her love for Y/n; she wouldn’t be the only cause for those things to be ten times as bright.
She wanted to make Y/n laugh the loudest, smile the biggest, and have her eyes glimmer like water in the sun from love. Yunjin wanted to be the biggest source of happiness as Y/n was hers.
The second she walked in Yunjin straightened her posture and felt that beating of excitement ignite in her heart like it always did. All those worries were suddenly gone as Y/n walked towards her and even if they were in a classroom that was starting to pile up with students; it was just them in Yunjin’s eyes.
Yunjin wished she was more brave, but even the bravest people were scared of losing someone dear to them.
It always made her warm the second Y/n was near her, listening attentively to what her best friend was talking about as she sat down beside her. Lately, Yunjin felt more nervous around Y/n, taking notice of how flustered she felt and the way her heart would beat after growing used to it only for it to plague her again. It was as if she was being mocked by her own body by being reminded of what Y/n made her feel and how she would possibly lose someone who made her feel so much to Chaewon because she was scared.
“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” She questioned the cheerleader, taking notice of how their knees were brushing against each other; how close they were sitting with her arm grazing Y/n’s now and then.
It was all becoming a clear picture that she had grown so used to she never noticed its details anymore.
Y/n smiled at her, Yunjin was expecting the usual answer since no one had planned anything. “You–” She raised her eyebrows as Y/n didn’t finish what she was about to say, realising a breath as she chuckled. “Chaewon just asked if I wanted to hang out tomorrow.”
Yunjin inhaled before exhaling just as deeply with a pout that disappeared quicker than it appeared. She wouldn’t care, she never did care if Y/n couldn’t hang out with her when she asked or the other way around because it was a given that they would get busy with other people and things at times. It was simply the fact that she wished that Chaewon had never told her about the crush she had grown on Y/n because Yunjin hated the fact that she knew what Chaewon’s intentions were.
It wouldn’t be painful if she hadn’t known; Yunjin would have seen it as nothing more than a friendly hangout and not Chaewon trying to get closer to the girl Yunjin was in love with.
“That’s fine,” she reassured Y/n, her fingers toying with the sleeves of her varsity jacket. Yunjin didn’t mind, she was just scared of where one simple hangout would lead because she still needed some more time to think this through. No matter how scared she was, she needed to be sure that those fears were worth suffocating for.
“I’m sure you can tag along–” Yunjin knew that Y/n’s kindness made the girl oblivious yet she hoped that it was more than kindness and obliviousness towards her. She stopped her, knowing that Chaewon asked just Y/n for a reason. As much as it hurt, Yunjin was a good friend and would continue hurting instead of hurting someone else.
“No, she probably has stuff planned for the two of you…It’s not like there’s no next week.” Somehow it still felt like one of these weeks would be the last ones until Y/n would be swept away from her, ridding Yunjin of any chances to confess if she chose to do so.
Chaewon wasn’t the best at planning, especially if she had yet to get to know Y/n on a deeper level. She took her chances the second she cleared her confusion about Y/n and Yunjin being together. It took away the guilt of crushing on the girl and it made it easier to act out on her feelings. Her gut feeling told her to finally ask the girl out and she did, but she wasn’t brave enough to clarify that she would like to take her on a date.
It was a hangout.
She winged it after getting to know a bit more about Y/n, spending each free moment between them talking and showing interest. The perfect moments were the classes they had together, the few classes she could walk Y/n to and the times she bumped into the girl between periods.
Chaewon did her best to show interest, forcing herself to break down her wall of uncertainty and shyness–still struggling–hoping that she was enough to get Y/n’s attention back. It was more difficult than she would’ve thought as the girl seemed to fall between oblivious and knowing yet playing dumb. Chaewon couldn’t figure it out. Was Y/n getting the hints or was she oblivious to them?
Or maybe it was Chaewon’s fault as she hadn’t dared to be obvious enough either because of how frightening it was to be vulnerable about her feelings, especially as someone closed off and typically shy.
She worked with what she had.
And so she was walking with her hands in her pockets, too nervous to take them out as she kept fiddling with stuff while walking beside Y/n at the aquarium. The enthusiasm and just Y/n in general was making her smile, her little crush was growing gradually, being blown up like a balloon and she had to bite back to not smile too much at certain times.
“Do you miss Austin a lot?” The girl suddenly asked as they reached the moon jellies.
Chaewon felt that stupid longing again and she wasn’t sure why it mattered so much if she was in her senior year and would be moving away to university after. Maybe because it was so sudden and unfair to just be dragged away from her home as it was the last year she would get to spend there. Now once she left for university, when she would visit home it would mean visiting this new home and not the one where she grew up.
Chaewon had left a part of her behind and now wanted to find a way to fill it and build a new part so it wouldn’t be as arduous.
“I do miss it, all the friends I had there, memories, the place where I grew up—” She replied, glancing at Y/n who was crouched down to look closer at the jellyfish. It made Chaewon crouch down too beside the girl, the calmness of the moment, all the moments she had with Y/n filled that empty spot slowly. She assumed that it was because Y/n was the first one to make her feel welcomed and at home whether with words or actions.
It could have been anyone, but she was lucky enough to land on Y/n in the school.
“It will always be my home, Long Island is great but it will never be the place where I grew up.” So much for being a closed-off person, it felt like she was knocking over glasses filled with water when she was with Y/n from how much she so easily let spill from her mouth. She couldn’t seem to seek solace in anyone else.
“It won’t be the same when you visit home now if you leave, will it?” Chaewon rested her arms over her knees and rested her cheek on top of them to keep her gaze on Y/n instead of the jellies. It made her smile at how understood she felt by the girl. It warmed her that the cheerleader did her best to understand even if she had lived in Long Island since she was born.
Chaewon pursed her lips at the smile that grew, the heat that warmed her cheeks and the way her heart started to race. “It won’t unfortunately.” She mumbled, watching how the blue light illuminated Y/n’s beauty, letting her know that there was beauty everywhere in the world and not just where her home was.
Y/n made her heart jump when she was caught looking at the girl, however, she couldn’t look away. The cheer captain didn’t seem to mind being more interesting than the exhibit was to Chaewon.
“We will help you create enough memories during senior year so you have something to come back to and reminisce about.” That was where Chaewon hoped that all her new friends would come in and help, especially Y/n who she hoped she had a chance with. It would be memorable and something she would want to come back to if she was with someone who lived all their life in the state.
“That would be great.” The cheer captain nodded at her words, looking back at the tank with the jellyfish.
“Where are you going after the school year ends?”
“I’m hoping to get scouted by UCLA, that’s where I want to apply either way.” Her words made Y/n look right back at her with a small smile.
“Maybe some of us were destined to meet or we would be brought to each other by fate, depending on what you believe in.”
“Why’s that?” Chaewon questioned, getting back up on her feet as Y/n stood up.
“We’re applying for the same school, Yunjin is hoping for the same as you. So maybe if you hadn’t moved here, we would still meet if we got into the same university—” She walked beside the girl, their shoulders and fingers brushed against each other, making Chaewon grab onto the material of her hoodie. “You know the whole ‘brought to each other by fate’ or ‘destined to meet’,” She chuckled at Y/n’s words, assuming that the girl had no clue how much more they fueled Chaewon.
What if it was meant to be? Chaewon had heard that love had its ways of bringing people who are made for each other together. Maybe that was why she grew attracted the second she saw Y/n. Was it the same for Y/n? What if Y/n would be the one she was going to fall in love with? Her heart started to beat tenfold, her silly little crush growing more serious with each second she thought about it.
It would be best if she stopped indulging in superstitions before she hurt herself.
“How are they coming out?”
Chaewon chuckled as she looked at the latest picture, moving her phone away when the cheerleader tried to get a peek at her screen. “There’s no deleting any.” She established first as she found every picture of the girl overly perfect and memorable. Photogenic was yet another thing the girl was.
Y/n was perfect; it could be Chaewon’s heart eyes, but there truly wasn’t anything to dislike about the girl. There was beauty on the outside which was the first thing Chaewon caught onto when looking at Y/n when she first stepped out onto the field on her first day and then she noticed the beauty on the inside when Y/n first spoke to her and made her feel at home.
“That means that they are bad,” Y/n complained, making her shake her head in disagreement.
“The opposite, I don’t think it’s possible to get a bad picture of you.” It made her laugh when Y/n at last managed to grab hold of her forearm and she let the girl overpower her, bringing down her hand with the phone. Her free hand went up to the girl’s head, petting along the plush penguin beanie the cheerleader had on her head that Chaewon bought for her on their way out of the aquarium.
“You’re being bold today.”
“It’s easier when you look this cute and less intimidating.” She mumbled before flicking the beak of the penguin and taking her phone away from Y/n. Chaewon looked down at her phone and the lock screen flashed open with a new wallpaper. A picture Y/n had taken when she was busy looking at the girl’s beanie, petting her head and Y/n pouting at the camera.
“The cost of keeping those pictures is me and you as your lock screen–” She smiled at those words, something she found herself doing with just the thought of the girl who stood in front of her. “You look cute all engrossed by my beanie.” It made Chaewon look down at her feet and her shoulders slump inwards as she put her phone back into her pocket at those words.
Y/n called her cute.
If only she knew that she was all engrossed by her and not the beanie.
She glanced over at the river they were walking alongside and she thought about it for a second. Just a second and not any longer because if she spent a second longer she would end up overthinking and backing out.
“Y/n…”
“Yeah?” She heaved a sigh as she looked at the cheerleader in front of her. Hands started to nervously twist the material inside her pockets while looking at Y/n who had the sun gently casting its rays on her skin. Her eyes sparkled, dimples prominent as she kept a small smile on her lips while looking Chaewon in the eye–Chaewon trying her best to keep eye contact–waiting.
“Would you mind thinking of this as a date rather than a hangout?” Chaewon’s heart was beating in her ears and she felt like she would get a heatstroke from the waves of warmth that covered her face.
If she hadn’t been gripping inside her pockets her fingers would be trembling with anxiety. This was the boldest and most straightforward she had possibly been and it was twisting her stomach.
“I have to be honest…” That worry grew with those words coming from Y/n. Her eyes widened in fear of rejection and she was starting to regret that she even asked to begin with. Was this it?
“I kind of figured those were the intentions when you insisted on paying and handling everything.”
Chaewon exhaled deeply, relaxing her body while her heart continued to pound because it had yet to calm down like the rest of her. Maybe she had been obvious enough without having to say it. She didn’t manage to utter a single word, still trying to collect herself from the fears she faced while watching Y/n grab hold of the flaps of the beanie while staring up at her.
“What kind of date?”
Chaewon had practised this answer because she didn’t want to move too fast or too slow. After all, there was no way she was the only one in the entire school who was interested in Y/n.
She cleared her throat, getting rid of the trembling it would possibly do.
“A no-pressure date where you don’t have to think about where it’s heading, but rather to get to know each other without having to think about whether you like me or not and just get close for the first few ones before you think about the rest to know for sure if you want anything more or not.”
She was sure that no matter how many times she practised it, she still ended up rambling because she felt out of breath at the end of her sentence. Her wide eyes laid on Y/n, expectant, hoping that what she had said made sense because it did in her head. It did earn her a small giggle which she hoped meant that she was doing something right.
“Okay, but there’s one thing.”
“Of course.” She had never agreed as quickly before, feeling the giddiness grow within her while biting on her lower lip to stop herself from grinning.
“Nothing gets awkward if you ask me to date you and I reject you for any reason. I also think it will be better if you don’t ask for reasons so it doesn’t ruin anything.”
“You sound set on rejecting me. You don’t have to agree out of pity.” Her hands came out of her pockets, pulling her sleeves down and squeezing them to get rid of the clamminess on her palms. She proceeded to scratch at her neck, her anxious habits kicking in right away as her hands were jittery. The possibility of it being out of pity hung in the air as she watched Y/n shake her head.
“I’m not, I just don’t want a possible friendship getting ruined if it doesn’t come to anything.” She could get behind that considering they were still getting to know each other and it could either evolve into a friendship or something more from this point.
“Okay–” A calmness finally washed over her as they stood by the river, taking in a deep breath as she gazed over Y/n’s slightly flushed face before she looked at the hands that were clutching on the flaps of the beanie.
“Can I hold your hand then?” The blushing was starting to get overwhelming for Chaewon, but she couldn’t help but push herself as she was beginning to get comfortable with it the more she did.
“Yeah, what else do you usually initiate on a first date, Chaewon?” Shivers danced along her hot body when Y/n let go of the flaps and slid her hand into Chaewon’s properly for the first time. Her brain ignored all her other worries she had about holding Y/n’s hand as they started to walk, only being able to think about the fact that she was holding her hand.
“Hand holding and hugs…Maybe a kiss on the cheek from you if you enjoyed it.” She mumbled the words into the air as she watched their hands.
“You’re so sly.” Chaewon wanted to squeal–she would once she got home–when Y/n stopped and placed a small peck on her already scorching cheek before she pulled her to continue walking along the lake while holding hands.
Saturday was game day with Chaewon’s first game on the starting lineup and Yunjin wasn’t worried after all the drills they had been practising for the past two weeks. She had other things to worry about even if her priority should be the upcoming games aiming to become state champions to then take part in nationals.
However, Y/n would always come first, especially if it felt like she was on the brink of losing something she didn’t yet have with her but wanted.
“How was yesterday?” Yunjin only managed to have a brief conversation with Y/n about her hangout with Chaewon as the girl was helping her stretch before the game. Honestly, after she got the answer, she didn’t want to talk more about it because her throat closed up with feelings she suppressed and her stomach twisted.
“It was fun, we went to the aquarium, walked along the river, got some snacks and then she drove me home–” Yunjin settled for the answer and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to hear the rest from Y/n but she still did. “She asked if I could think of it as a date instead of a hangout.”
That heavy gloom had washed right over Yunjin, it felt like she was in the deepest parts of a blue sea where it was hard to breathe without it burning her lungs and making her tear up.
“Did you?” She carefully asked to make sure and to mask the quivering in her voice.
“Yeah, it’s just to get to know each other first without thinking about what’s next.”
“Do you think there will be more?” Yunjin wasn’t sure why she asked because she knew that she would shed that gloom that coated her if Y/n answered with something she dreaded hearing. All she got was a moment of silence as Y/n looked up at her in thought, tilting her head as she shrugged.
“If it happens it happens naturally and at its own pace so I can’t say much.”
Was this Yunjin’s shot to still have her chance with Y/n?
It was never too late for love, was it?
Yet her mouth was stapled shut and the more dates she watched Chaewon take Y/n on the more frustrations stored themselves behind that locked door of emotions. It was hurting to hold it closed. All those frustrations were towards herself and she didn’t think she could have taken them out on someone else.
They were getting the best of her.
“What is up with you, Huh Yunjin?” She could only stare down at her hands as she sat in her coach’s office after practice.
Yes, they were on a 5 - 0 - 0 winning streak, but Yunjin knew that she was slacking and it was just like the coach said; “You are physically on the field, but where’s your head?” Her head was stuck on her best friend possibly falling for someone who wasn’t her, her head was stuck on thinking about losing someone she loved to Chaewon.
“I’m sorry coach, I will get myself together for the next game.” She apologised, ready to stand up and as she did she was stopped.
“If you don’t I won’t have a choice but to bench you and make Chaewon the captain.”
Yunjin knew that it was all her fault. She should be able to put up that facade she had made when she was on the field to not let her emotions get the best of her when playing.
It was impossible to put away the mess of emotions inside her though and even hanging out with Y/n wasn’t making them go away. All she could think about was how her world was starting to crumble.
Would Chaewon unintentionally take everything away from her simply because she couldn’t keep her composure and untie her tongue?
That seemed to be the last straw and the door burst open at the worst moment possible.
The second half was almost halfway done, 0 - 0 and she could feel the pressure of her complicated emotions and the coach’s words together with an expectant crowd. Was she just about to lose again? That anger she had towards herself for not being able to do what she needed was starting to seep through and make her take it out the wrong way.
Yunjin found it unfair; she had been playing for ages for the school’s team and was being threatened with being replaced by Chaewon. It felt even more unfair that someone she had known for years and loved for almost just as many would be Chaewon’s. The situation she was in was against her and it wasn’t fair considering the amount of love she had for Y/n.
The ball was passed to Chaewon as they were attacking the goal, at least the intention from the midfielder was to pass it to Chaewon who would forward the ball to the captain for an assist. That was until Yunjin’s overwhelming emotions got the best of her and she stole the ball right before it touched the second striker’s foot. It caused her shoulder to bump into Chaewon’s. It was harsh enough to have Chaewon almost stumble to the grass, barely catching herself with the tips of her fingers while continuing towards the goal.
At the back of her head, Yunjin still remembered her words and her morals; she would always prioritise the whole team to make sure they won over her desires.
That wasn’t the case this time because if it hadn’t been for Yunjin’s anger that turned her selfish they would have scored. What they got in return was the captain getting squeezed by two defenders and tumbling onto the grass before the whistle was blown and their chance of scoring was lost.
The wet grass she had fallen onto left a taste of metallic anguish in her mouth while the scent of dirt lingered by her nose. The force had left her lungs to burn, but she was overwhelmed by her frustrations to feel the actual pain.
“Are you okay? What was that about?”
She harshly wiped the sweat off her brow to not get any in her eyes and her hard glare landed on Chaewon who was panting for air while extending her hand to help the captain up.
The girl was nothing but a good sport even if what happened wasn’t slightly her fault. Everything was Yunjin’s fault and always would be, wouldn’t it? Losing her title, losing the girl she loved, and wasting opportunities; were all Yunjin’s fault.
Confusion lingered in Chaewon’s gaze as Yunjin shoved her hand away. “Leave me alone, Chaewon.” Yunjin wished and hoped that the girl would disappear fully from her life no matter how perfect she was. It only made her wish that much more for the girl to disappear as she got up on her own, holding onto her knees as she leaned over.
Yunjin tightly shut her eyes, trying to muffle everything and everyone, feeling the tears trickle from her eyes as they stung her warm cheeks. The team surrounded her, worrying pats on her back and questions were thrown her way. She did it all on her own and she knew it. Yunjin spat out the blood in her mouth as she bit into her lip when colliding with the grass.
The only thing that snapped her out of it was the coach’s voice and she shrugged everyone off of her. Her shoulder once again bumped Chaewon’s who she didn’t spare a second glance at while wiping the blood off her lip. The lump was hurting her throat, making her want to burst out in tears the same second she reached the woman in front of her.
“You’re off the field, I will talk with you after.” Yunjin scoffed, ready to walk towards the bench. “Kim!” She was stopped though as her shoulder was grabbed and she looked at her coach.
“I told you about the consequences, Huh, hand the armband over to Kim.”
Her jaw clenched, fighting the tears that wanted to spill as she felt blow after blow hit her where it hurt the most with things she loved the most.
Yunjin’s trembling fingers tore the armband off of her as she snivelled and turned just in time as Chaewon jogged over to them. She didn’t say a word nor did she wait for what Chaewon had to say as she opened her mouth; Yunjin shoved it into the girl’s chest with a huff, making Chaewon stumble before it fell to the grass and she walked away.
It was somewhere between humiliating and not as her emotions blinded her while she walked off the field and past the bleachers, past everyone she knew and she didn’t stop. Yunjin couldn’t stop because the closer to the lockers that she got the more sobs started to spill from her lips.
There was nothing else that she wanted to do but to love Y/n yet she hated how love made her feel like she was floating and then as if she was falling on her way to crash to her death.
She had yet to cry about it, Yunjin had been suppressing every little bit of pain she had felt, and she had been suffering without shedding any tears. It was something she had gotten good at just like she was good at suppressing her feelings, letting them build up inside until she was choking on them. Her choked sobs echoed through the empty locker room as she cried into her palms, sitting on the bench.
“Jen…Can I come in?”
She looked up, her eyes falling on the door where Y/n’s soft voice came from behind. Yunjin snivelled, trying to figure out if seeing Y/n would make her feel better or worse. She knew that it would be the first, but she also knew it would push her tears further. The striker wiped at her eyes while mumbling a loud enough ‘yeah’ to her best friend.
What she knew was that Y/n wouldn’t come in and assume how she was feeling, she wouldn’t pity her, she wouldn’t lie to her, and she wouldn’t invalidate the way she felt. Y/n would offer her comfort, let her find solace in her and simply listen to her.
The problem was that she couldn’t tell Y/n how she felt, there was nothing she could let off her chest when it all was about the cheerleader whose shoulder she was crying on.
“Do you need anything?” Yunjin shook her head as she didn’t want anything but Y/n who was right beside her. It made her body shake as she cried, aware of the fact that she was crying because she finally had a way of letting out all these suppressed feelings and that what happened was the final push.
She couldn't hold it anymore, it was making her body tremble and she felt weak because of the exhaustion she felt from holding everything to herself.
Her eyes stayed shut as she cried in the crook of Y/n’s neck with her fingers tangled in the girl’s top. She dwelled in the feeling of Y/n rubbing her back with one hand as the other gently massaged her scalp. Yunjin knew that she would never lose this, but she would never be able to call Y/n hers and that brought her pain even if Y/n could soothe it.
“I’m always here for you, I will always listen to whatever you have on your mind, Jen, I’m here to just be a shoulder to cry on too.”
She took in shuddering breaths, trying her best to calm down as she listened to the girl’s words, but somehow they made it worse. The kinder Y/n was, the more she cared; the more Yunjin fell and the harder the impact of the fall was. It hurt to fall because she didn’t tell Y/n the truth and had no one to catch her.
“I hate it when you cry, Jen. I don’t want to see you hurting.” Yunjin knew that Y/n wasn’t stupid. One thing Yunjin knew was that her best friend knew her well enough to know that more than what happened on the field bothered her.
It was enough for Yunjin to find the comfort that she needed without having to tell Y/n what it was because the girl was aware that it was more even if she didn’t know exactly what it was.
“Thank you…” She mumbled, slowly pulling away from the girl as she wiped away the remaining tears on her cheeks.
There was so much she wanted to thank Y/n for, there was so much she wanted to tell her yet when she looked up from her lap and at her best friend she couldn’t bring herself to risk it. Her lips parted and they meekly left her lips, moving but barely as she couldn’t tell them loud enough for anyone but her soul to hear.
She watched how the corners of Y/n’s lips tugged up and the girl reached her hand up to her face. It made Yunjin’s ears ring from how her heart started to beat. “You’re so stupid, Jen–” A breathless chuckle left Y/n’s lips and the ginger swallowed, her eyes not being able to meet Y/n’s gaze. After all, it always felt like they were trying to tempt Yunjin, trying their best to coax those suppressed feelings out.
Y/n made it feel like the easiest thing in the world; there was no one easier to love than Y/n and so those words were easy to say to the girl.
Yunjin was the one who made it the most difficult thing in the world; there was nothing harder than risking someone so easy to love.
“It’s gonna be swollen, idiot.” Yunjin winced, pulling her face away from Y/n’s hold after the girl's thumb pushed against the side of her lower lip. The pain only kicked in now as she looked at the little blood it left on Y/n’s thumb.
“I’m sorry for being tackled, I guess.” She grumbled, making Y/n roll her eyes.
There was yet another knock on the door that interrupted them and Y/n stood up, walking over to the door. The ginger watched her open the door which made her look down when she saw who was on the other side.
“I will be back with ice.” Chaewon nodded at the girl who gave her a small smile as she grabbed the door to hold it while Y/n stepped outside. Her eyes stayed on the cheer captain for a second who walked away before she stepped inside and let the door fall closed.
There was an awkward tension lingering in the air as she leaned against the door and finally looked at Yunjin who was staring down at the tiled floor under her cleats. Chaewon cleared her throat as she was there for two reasons. There was no way she could just let this go, not after what happened on the field.
Chaewon took a seat beside Yunjin, her hands holding onto the edge of the bench as she looked at her cleats. With a deep breath that she released right after she looked at the girl who was still avoiding looking at her.
“Yunjin, did I do something?” There was no reason to wait around because no one would fix this for them. Chaewon didn’t like where it had ended because she hadn’t even known it was heading this way. As far as she knew there was no bad blood between them, however, she had a hunch about what it could be from Yunjin’s side.
“What?” The girl finally looked up, her lashes still wet, the blood dry on the corner of her lip. Chaewon pursed her lips, feeling sympathy for what her teammate and friend went through, from the fall to being ripped off the title of the team captain in front of everyone.
“I feel like that anger was aimed at me and I’m not sure what I did, however, I’m willing to apologise if I truly did something to upset you.” She didn’t know exactly what it was, she could assume, but she wanted to know exactly what it was from Yunjin herself. Chaewon was willing to apologise for it because she could tell that it was more than the frustrations of pressure and feeling the need to win the game.
Chaewon pissed Yunjin off with how nice she was, with how good she was because all Yunjin wanted to do was resent her, but it was impossible to resent someone who hadn’t done anything and was clueless about Yunjin’s feelings for the cheerleader. Y/n herself didn’t know.
Her eyes looked over Chaewon as they stared at each other in silence.
Yunjin huffed and looked away, wiping away the remnants of tears on her lashes. The momentary silence let her consider what she should tell the girl. The consideration of telling Chaewon the truth about being in love with Y/n laid heavily on the scale as she wanted to lean towards it.
“Is it about Y/n?” Chaewon scratched at the back of her neck as Yunjin looked back at her after she broke the silence between them. She couldn’t help but feel like it could have been about the girl she liked.
She cleared her throat as Yunjin was looking at her with wide yet confused eyes. The words that she pushed out from between her lips weren’t easy to say aloud even if it was easy to like Y/n.
Chaewon still did it, “I like her, yes, but I’m not trying to hog or steal your best friend. I’m sorry if I may have been taking away from your time together, but those aren’t my intentions…Y/n will always be your best friend and I will never try to replace that.” Her hands dropped to her lap as she looked between them and Yunjin.
Chaewon was aware of how much time she had been spending with Y/n both at school and outside of it whether they were planned dates or spontaneous hangouts. It wasn’t intentional; she liked Y/n and was trying her best to get to know her and possibly spark interest from the cheerleader’s side too. They had known each other for a good two months and she hoped to soon enough take the next step.
Yunjin sighed and looked in front of her to blink away the tears that wanted to fall again as those emotions were still faintly swirling around her head. That was the problem, wasn’t it? She would always be Y/n’s best friend. That was exactly the problem and she hated it even if she cherished the fact that Y/n was her best friend and the other way around.
“It’s–It’s not that Chaewon, we still hang out like we used to–” This was her chance even if it would be selfish to say it now that the girl beside her had been seeing Y/n. It would either spark competition between them or make Chaewon step back.
It still came with the same risks, the ones that made her overthink and back down. “It’s just the stress getting to me with these games, aiming for nationals and hopefully getting scouted along the way.” Her hands gripped the material of her shorts, angry with herself once again for refusing to say what she wanted. She would only be able to blame herself once it would be too late.
“Okay, I was worried it might’ve been that. I’m trying my best and hoping that she likes me enough so that I can ask her out to officially date…You think she would say yes?”
Chaewon was making it hard to stay collected once again and she managed to pull off a smile through the stinging in her chest.
“There’s only one way to find out, Chaewon.” The girl beside her let out a breathless chuckle as she nodded while Yunjin felt stupid for saying those words to someone else, but yet she refused to listen to them herself.
“Also.” She looked up at Chaewon who got up to stand in front of her.
“I loved being captain back in Austin, but I could never accept this–” She watched her tear off the armband with the C on it before she held it out in front of Yunjin. “You’re a great captain Yunjin, you deserve to have it more than me or anyone else on the team. I never wanted to put it on, especially not that way…I will talk to the coach.”
“Thank you, Chaewon.”
If only she could curse Chaewon out for making everything so much harder as she accepted the captain's armband back.
Despite the small commotion on the field, they had won 1 - 0.
Chaewon couldn’t help but feel like each day everything about this transfer felt better and brighter. She missed home, her old friends and everything else, but it all was being filled. It was a drastic change she thought would cause more damage than good however, she had been wrong.
After every game they won they found themselves at the beach and this time was no different. It served as a way for her to take time and reflect and see where she was now compared to when she was at the beach for the first time after just starting.
It felt less empty, there wasn’t as much confusion, she felt that emptiness within her after leaving a part of herself behind slowly get filled; building a new part in its place. There was a new home being built in her, that fear of alienation disappearing and she now longed after the familiarity of the new people she had grown close to. They were the ones who made her feel at home.
Home is where the heart lies; Chaewon never left her heart back in Austin.
She was feeling quite at home, slowly finding a place to call home as she leaned back against her palms, Y/n leaning against her shoulder that was behind the cheer captain. It had taken less than a month to find a place to settle in and around two months to settle and let her heart pump warmth to keep her home warm. It made Chaewon smile at how naturally it was all falling into place.
The gentle crackling of the fireplace filled the air together with talk and laughter from the rest. The scent of the fire wasn’t as overwhelming when Y/n rested her head on her shoulder, her arm resting over Chaewon’s leg and fingers drawing circles on her knee.
The cheerleader talked to the others while Chaewon rested her cheek against Y/n’s, letting the sweet scent and warmth in. It had become her new favourite one; it was the only one she knew just by entering a room right after the girl. It let her know that she would feel at home.
“The starry sky suits you.” She mumbled, feeling the girl who was leaning against her chuckle.
“Are you trying to disgust Yeonjun?” Chaewon huffed at that and looked over at the guy who was already making a face at their closeness.
“He’s the biggest anti-romantic on this planet.” Her eyes fell on Y/n who looked up at her with a teasing smile.
“So you’re trying to be romantic?”
“If it’s working, then yes.” She smiled as Y/n giggled and looked back at Jimin and Kazuha who called for her attention. Her heart raced with warmth as she watched Y/n continue to trace patterns along her knee while talking.
Chaewon knew that there was no need to wait any longer, there was a garden of feelings growing in her chest for Y/n and she needed to let them out before she would suffocate. She needed to tell Y/n how she felt before she could start hurting from suppressing it in her.
Yunjin found herself walking back towards her group of friends after trailing off and standing alone in the cold sand with the wind blowing through what felt like holes in her body. Those same holes were ones she filled with the love she had for Y/n, the same feelings she suppressed until she was choking on them.
It took her all these years to realise that the longer she refused to express her feelings towards the girl the more it would hurt, it would hurt whether or not anyone else was in the picture or not.
It was a punishment for keeping it inside her when she could have let her feelings grow because they were beautiful yet she suppressed them and let them cramp up inside her until it was burning her lungs.
Each time her throat closed up was because of something she felt but refused to say.
Love didn’t have to be painful, it had all along been her choice to make it hurt.
Yunjin had been hurting herself.
Her eyes scanned her group of friends, her hands in her pockets as she poked her tongue at the wound on the side of her lip. She knew that the heavy beating she felt in her chest mixed with an acidic sting when her eyes landed on her best friend and Chaewon could turn into the former alone if she confessed her love.
Yunjin realised that even if she were to get rejected it wouldn’t hurt as much to see Y/n with someone else after. She realised where the problem lay; it was suppressing her feelings that hurt and not fearing them.
The only cure to be able to breathe normally again was to let her feelings flow out through her mouth instead of cramping them inside her lungs. She knew despite everything there was only one choice.
Yunjin walked over to the two as there was only one spot left which was beside Y/n who was wearing the captain’s varsity jacket; two, Chaewon’s resting in the girl’s lap. The longer she stared at the campfire in front of her the hotter her eyes felt as the realisation was starting to lift weights off of her chest and she knew what she truly had to do.
It all opened up her cramped space for those feelings in her chest, growing like a floral garden, each petal, each flower being something she felt for Y/n. It was all the flowers she wanted to give to the girl and she knew that she would as she felt Y/n’s pinky intertwine with hers on the blanket.
Yunjin wasn’t going to wait any longer as she glanced at Y/n, knowing that it was the girl she wanted to give all the flowers in the world to. All those flowers she had been dying from because of how much it all had grown in her chest without giving what she should have given to Y/n ages ago.
She was in love with her best friend and she was done with suppressing what was beautiful.
Remnants of adrenaline coursed through Yunjin’s body as they officially made it to the quarter-finals. Her heart continued to pound even after she had changed and she knew that it was more than just the high of qualifying. She had hurt enough because of love and she wanted to continue to love without the part where it hurt every time she didn’t express herself.
It felt like time was ticking away, especially after seeing how much closer Chaewon was to the girl yet Yunjin couldn’t help but feel like there was something between her and Y/n. That she hadn’t been living in a make-believe world this whole time and that their skinny love was true and Yunjin would take the step to turn it into love.
The only thing she was losing was time she could have loved Y/n in more than silence.
“Okay, I’m just gonna find my dad to get the keys to his car.” Yunjin looked over her shoulder as she pulled her varsity jacket out of her locker to see Chaewon sling her duffle bag over her shoulder. She gave Chaewon a terse smile when the girl sent her one first before averting her gaze.
“I will meet you at the parking lot after.”
“I will try to make it on time.” The second striker chuckled at Yujin’s words who walked after her with crutches. Chaewon opened the door and held it for the injured girl before leaving in a hurry. The door fell closed after them, the rest of the team keeping up their chatter.
Yunjin slung the bag over her shoulder and held the jacket under her arm to give it to Y/n like she always did. This time she hoped she could give it without it being platonic. With that, she bid goodbye to whoever she wasn’t going to see later and left the locker room.
She walked through the empty halls of the sports wing, hoping to bump into Y/n while she rummaged for her phone in the bag. Undoubtedly it felt like she was about to have a heart attack with how much it hurt when her heart started colliding with her ribcage, a faint lightheadedness clouding her as she did her best to take deep breaths.
This wasn’t because she was afraid to express her feelings anymore, but because she was finally going to take the step to do something she had wanted for years. This was the excitement that was so similar to the fear that she almost mixed it up once again.
Yunjin couldn’t waste more time, Y/n wasn’t someone she wanted to make wait when she deserved every last drop of love Yunjin could give her.
The lack of a reply was making Yunjin’s nerves spike because she wanted to do it now and not wait a second longer. To get all these fears behind. Her fingers fidgeted with the jacket in her hands, glancing at her phone as she waited for a reply, aware that the girl often took longer in the changing room or wouldn’t have her phone right at hand.
It wasn’t the first time Yunjin waited for a reply, but this time felt like ages as she leaned against the wall not far from the entrance of the basketball court. It was making her jittery, shifting on her legs as it was hard to stand still with all those petals and flowers tickling her stomach and lungs; Yunjin would burst if she wouldn’t let these things flow out for Y/n to hear at last.
Her phone screen lit up and she looked towards the entrance of the basketball court that burst open to see the cheerleader walk out with her eyes on the phone screen. Yunjin pushed herself up from the wall, her hands clutching onto the jacket to occupy her fingers and hold onto something to not back down once again.
“Jen!” She smiled as Y/n looked up from the phone and caught her presence right away.
“Congratulations on qualifying, you guys did so well. You were perfect on the field.” Yunjin bit down on her lower lip at the words that were causing everything to overgrow in her chest. She could feel it pushing up by force this time, the garden didn’t want to wait; it was too beautiful to keep cramped up inside her. She needed to let Y/n know how much she loved her.
How in love she was.
“Thank you, we did our best, but–” The captain cleared her throat, feeling all those familiar feelings and pains she usually did because of how she suppressed her words. This time it came with reassurance to herself that she was going to do it.
She took a deep breath as Y/n tilted her head, a small frown of confusion and Yunjin felt it all wash over her, this time melting and letting herself get coaxed by Y/n’s beautiful eyes when the cheerleader grabbed hold of her hands. That reassuring warmth of Y/n’s touch she always felt and got from the girl reminded her of how it would be fine.
It was clear to Yunjin that her overwhelmed body and nervousness lingered in the air and that Y/n could sense it. This time she let herself get lost in the comfort, the solace and trust Y/n brought her.
“There’s this thing I really want to tell you, Y/n.” She got a nod in response, thumbs brushing over her knuckles and she slid one hand out of Y/n’s grasp to nervously play with the pendant of her necklace.
Yunjin could feel her mind drift off and she was aware that it would be a blur until it was over as she cleared her throat once again to try and get rid of the scratching she felt because of her nerves.
“Anything, Jen.”
“There’s so much that I want to tell you and have wanted to say probably since we started high school, and I have always hesitated for even more reasons…” Her eyes searched for something to look at yet all she could look at was Y/n who was right in front of her. That frown on her face slowly disappeared the more Yunjin managed to ramble and push out, hoping that somewhere between these lines the words ‘I’m in love with you’ would come out.
The pounding of her heart was muffling everything for her and it was warm. “I think that the biggest is the fact that you’re my best friend and I would never want to ruin that in any way.”
She released yet another sigh and let her hand fall, clutching onto the side of her jeans. Yunjin couldn’t remember if she had ever been this anxious, the heat was coursing up to her face and ears and there was a faint buzzing in her ears. This was Yunjin facing her biggest fears and she knew that once she did it she would feel ecstatic.
“It’s just that–It’s really hard to keep it to myself and I managed to keep it for years now. But, I can’t keep doing that because I always end up…hurting.” She inhaled once again, forgetting to breathe between her sentences. It was overwhelming with how much was on the line and she felt like crying because of the waves of emotions washing over her without a stop.
She was desperate to tell Y/n that she was in love and even more desperate for the girl to feel the same. The longer it took the more her voice quivered and she still fought to avoid these negative thoughts and doubts that tried to hit her like they always did.
Her mind was in too big of a daze to take her time and read Y/n’s expression, the girl was looking at her with those usual soft eyes, letting her know that it was fine. That was all Yunjin needed to know to continue talking.
It would be fine and Y/n would never hurt her.
“There’s so much and I don’t know what to start with or what exactly to say, but the thing I’ve always wanted to say the most, knowing that I can trust you as my best friend is that,” her last breath and it was right at the tip of her tongue.
Y/n was her best friend and she could always trust her with anything and it would never matter what it was. Yunjin knew that she could trust her with her feelings and heart and tell her those words.
“Y/n, I’m painfully in–”
“I found the keys. I dropped them under one of the benches.”
It made Yunjin flinch when the door to the basketball court flew open, her heart hammering so quickly it was making her nauseous and she felt like fainting. Her blurred vision cleared as it landed on Chaewon who walked out from the court. The hold on her hand disappeared as Y/n looked over her shoulder at the other soccer player who walked towards them.
Yunjin’s lips parted as did Y/n’s who was about to reply to Chaewon who walked up to them, fixing the duffle bag slung across her chest. Was she supposed to ask Chaewon to leave so she could continue?
She was right there, she had practically said those words and it was the closest she had ever been. Yunjin was about to grasp her dream, she was so close that she was touching it with the tips of her fingers.
Could she ask Chaewon who wrapped her arm around Y/n’s waist with an even bigger and giddier smile to leave? Yunjin did everything in her power to avoid looking at Y/n, being able to feel the girl’s gaze on her face. It finally settled in her head that Y/n was already wearing a jacket; Chaewon’s jacket.
“I got the courage and asked Y/n out, so we’re officially dating now.” It made Yunjin let out a breath as she nodded along to the information. She bit her lower lip, digging her teeth into it to prevent her eyes from getting wet. She was doing everything in her power to distract herself to not let herself shed tears.
Yunjin kept her composure during one of the worst moments of her life yet everything on the inside was suffocating her, it was growing around her heart. Yunjin could feel the thorns from the garden dig into the muscle making it bleed out and everything felt lifeless and heavy around her. So close, but her dream slipped right through her fingers.
There was one thing Yunjin couldn’t forget though, not in this moment or any other moment because Y/n always came first. It didn’t matter how much Yunjin was hurting, if she was being swallowed by pain, being torn apart from the inside with a lump in her throat that made it ache.
It didn’t matter if she felt like crying, she could wait just like she had done all these years. The worst that could happen if she waited was that she would drown in misery, but she had grown used to it, hadn’t she?
“That’s—I’m happy for you two.” She would always remember to be happy for Y/n. Y/n’s happiness would forever be Yunjin’s happiness even if the cheerleader's happiness was making her nose prickle and her eyes sting, unable to breathe from the tight grip those thorny stems had on her heart, squeezing.
Her dream had always been to make Y/n happy and dreams meant sacrificing even if it was a piece of herself. There was nothing greater she could sacrifice for Y/n than her heart in the end.
Yunjin glanced over to Y/n at last, feeling pain shoot through her heart and she hugged the jacket closer to her to try and ease it. She looked away from Y/n’s face, those beautiful eyes holding nothing but concern now.
Yunjin decided that it would be best if she and hopefully Y/n forgot that she even started this conversation. It was the day her world crumbled into dust in the end and she didn’t want to remember that.
She would rather remember it as the day Y/n found happiness in someone even if it wasn’t Yunjin.
Yunjin wanted to remember how much she loved Y/n and not the moment her heart broke because she loved her.
“We’re taking my dad's truck. Want a ride or…” Her eyes nervously darted around as they fell on Chaewon who still had a smile on her face. She opened her mouth and searched for words all while feeling everything within her slowly go numb from pain the longer they stood in front of her.
“Oh, I’m–no, it’s fine, I have my car.” Her voice couldn’t stop trembling and her gaze fell to the floor at last, unable to look Chaewon and especially not Y/n in the eye. It was all crashing down on her and she knew that she would break any second.
“Okay, see you there then, Yunjin.” She nodded her head and stepped aside, stopping by the wall as they walked past her.
Yunjin bit her lower lip as her breathing picked up and the prickling in her nose was painful enough for the tears to fall at last. The bag on her shoulder slid down and she let it fall to the floor as she leaned against the wall to try and ground herself. She snivelled and wiped at her eyes with the jacket she planned to give to Y/n and her gaze still fell on them as she hugged it closer for comfort because she couldn’t go to Y/n with this anguish.
She watched her friend and best friend walk away, taking a turn and Y/n’s worried eyes met hers for a split second when the girl looked over her shoulder before disappearing.
There was no holding back as she slid down the wall and pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face into the jacket while hugging them to seek some type of solace and salvation for the pain. Her tears hot tears spilled onto the jacket that she had saved for Y/n, but would now only serve to soak up tears.
If only she had found Yn first. She had because she had found Y/n years ago, but Chaewon was the one to finish first. Yunjin had been stalling all these years and when she finally decided that she was going to get Yn, someone swept the girl away right before her eyes. She had loved Y/n for all those years and now she would have to live with the regret of not telling her right from the start.
She could silently brew resentment towards Chaewon for sweeping the person she had built dreams around right from under her feet.
Or maybe she should be thankful to Chaewon for saving her from possibly losing her best friend. One she would never be able to replace if her confession went wrong or even if it went right. She was sure that her best friend would stay no matter what because she could trust Y/n. Yet she tried to convince herself that she couldn’t know that and that it had been reasonable to hold back.
She knew that it hadn’t been, she just wanted to ease the way her heart was beingtormented.
The worst part wasn’t that she was too late though, but that she would never get to know if Y/n felt the same. If all those gestures were friendly or if they held a deeper meaning like Yunjin’s did. The worst part was that Yunjin would never get to know if they could ever have been more than best friends.
It was all Yunjin’s fault.
masterlist
a/n note; hi if you made it to the end :) thank you for reading/reblogging/leaving a note and appreciating my work. it means so much and motivates me further as i always try my best, hoping you peeps liked it. love you and can't wait to post more for yall <3
#chaewon#chaewon x reader#chaewon x female reader#lesserafim x reader#fluff#kim chaewon#le sserafim fluff#chaewon x fem reader#yunjin x fem reader#huh yunjin x reader#huh yunjin#huh jennifer#le sserafim angst#le sserafim x fem reader#female reader#fanfic#girl group imagines#le sserafim imagines#yunjin x female reader#chaewon fluff#yunjin fluff#yunjin angst#chaewon angst#kim chaewon x reader#yunjin x reader
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Dress | Alessia Russo x Reader (18+) [Thursday]
-> England and Arsenal reader
Summary: Your best friend and housemate looks a little too good in the new dress she bought | slightly inspired by ‘Dress’ - Taylor Swift
Warnings: bottom alessia, top reader, strap use (alessia receiving), oral (alessia receiving), fingering (r receiving), masturbation (R; fingering) in a shared space
WC: 4k
AN: this might be one of if not number 1 of the fics I've written 🧎| this is the dress I was referencing Alessia wearing
Night After Night masterlist
You cheered softly to yourself when you scored your eighth goal against Katie in a game of FIFA. You loved playing against her because you knew you could walk away with an easy win. you laughed to yourself picturing your teammate swearing and complaining to Caitlin, who would have a lot to say to you during training for making her deal with an angry Katie McCabe.
Just as Katie restarted the game, Alessia came tumbling through the front door, hands full with bags from her day out shopping. You threw a glance her way and chuckled when she lightly tripped over her own feet.
"You good, Lessi," you teased but kept your eyes locked on the TV screen in front of you.
Alessia's face lit up, blush coating her cheeks as she sat all her bags down to remove her shoes. "Perfectly fine, thank you very much," she huffed as she tossed her shoes to the small pile by the front door.
You and Alessia had been friends for a long time and when you both were signed to Arsenal, you decided to move in together to make things easy. You loved living with her but being around her 24/7 did nothing to stop your ever-growing feelings for her. But you kept your feelings to yourself, not wanting to complicate your living situation.
Your game with Katie came to an end and the defender promptly left the lobby, too pissed at the score line to continue playing. You chuckled once more as you sat your controller on the couch, your full attention turned to Alessia who was now trying to pick up all her bags to carry to her room.
"Did you leave anything for other people to buy," you joked as you stood up to help her, a smile on your face when you noticed her blush.
"Hush," she mumbled as you picked up most of the bags for her. You were too busy keeping your own feelings hidden to notice Alessia doing the same.
The forward had a crush on you the moment you two met at the youth levels for England. You two have been inseparable since then, closer than ever and madly in love with the other, even if you were both hiding it.
But Alessia was tired of keeping her feelings to herself, she's wanted to tell you how she felt every day since she came to terms with it. She just wasn't sure what the best way to go about it was because she was worried about you potentially not feeling the same. However, after whining about her feelings and gushing about you to Ella, the two of them came up with a plan.
She was going to make you make the first move if you did feel the same and an upcoming event proved to be her best chance. She had spent all day shopping with Lotte and Emily to find the perfect dress that she thought would drive you crazy. After hours of searching, she finally found the perfect dress that she'd hoped you'd take off her.
You sat the bags on the end of her bed before turning to head back to the living room. "Wait, can I get your help on which dress to wear for this event, I know you aren't going but I could use the extra opinion," the blonde grinned and you knew you'd never be able to say no to her.
"You're sure you want my opinion," you joked with a raised eyebrow, dressing up and going to all those fancy events were out of your comfort zone.
"Of course, I trust your opinion more than others," she replied, her grin just a bright.
You nodded with a smile before telling her you'd wait in the living room for her to show you her options. Alessia cheered cutely before she started pulling various outfits from the shopping bags.
You sat on the couch, browsing through social media while you waited. You'd just clicked through Katie's Snapchat story where she posted about losing to you with various angry emojis when Alessia's bedroom door opened. You looked up from your phone and your eyes scanned the dress your best friend was wearing.
It was a black dress but wasn't one you thought complimented her fully. "It's nice but I don't think it's my favorite," you hummed, your eyes straying toward her long legs before meeting her eyes.
"It's not my favorite either but I thought I'd still show you," she blushed before heading back into her room to change into the next dress.
You weren't sure how you were given a free pass to basically check out your best friend but you weren't going to say no to the idea. So you waited, letting Alessia take all the time she wanted before she came back out in a blue dress.
This one was better than the last but still missing something. You tilted your head to the side as your eyes took in the piece of clothing before giving her your thoughts. "I like this one more than the black one, but it still feels like it's missing something," you offered, your eyes meeting hers with a smile on your face.
Alessia nodded and smiled but didn't say anything as she turned around. Your eyes shamelessly dropped to check her out again before you were staring at her closed bedroom door. Alessia was glad you didn't like any of the ones she was showing you so far, she was only showing them to make it seem like she had options.
But as she slipped on the red dress she bought earlier, she knew this would be the winner. Alessia took a small breath before opening her door and stepping out, her eyes landing on you to watch your reaction closely.
You looked up from your phone, your jaw dropping slightly but you were quick to school your expression. Your eyes slowly scanned her body, lingering as they eyed parts of her exposed chest and her legs. You swallowed harshly as you sat up straighter, many thoughts forming in your head but none were something you could say to your best friend.
"Um... I- I like this one the most," you settled on something safe, though your eyes had yet to meet hers again.
Alessia smirked softly but her face was almost as red as her dress, she'd slowly put her secret plan in motion and now she had to sit back and let you make the first move. "Good, this was my favorite too," she beamed, turning to head back into her room and she felt your eyes burning holes into her backside as you watched her leave.
The event was in four days and the blonde planned to let you sit with all you were feeling until you saw her in the dress again, hoping it would be what would jumpstart your relationship. Though with training in between, the days leading up to the event seemed to drag on for ages.
You groaned as you opened your front door to be met with multiple people who were a part of Alessia’s team helping her get ready. It had slipped your mind that today was the day of the event Alessia would be attending and a small burst of excitement filled your chest as you remembered the dress she decided on. Though in reality, the dress hadn’t left your mind since she first walked out of her bedroom to show you.
“Y/N! Is that you,” Alessia’s voice echoed from her bedroom as she heard the front door open amidst the chaotic scenes around her.
“Who else would it be,” you joked as you peeked your head around her doorframe, eyes landing on the blonde sitting on the edge of her bed in a white robe while her makeup artist covered her eyelashes in mascara.
Alessia rolled her eyes when the woman left her alone to grab a light shade of lipstick. Alessia’s eyes met yours as she let her makeup artist apply the lipstick. You sent her a small smile before returning to your room to shower, having gone for a light gym workout with Kyra.
By the time you were done and changed, Alessia had changed into her dress and was getting assistance with her heels in the living room. Your breath hitched when you exited your room, your eyes slowly committing the sight of her to memory. “You look beautiful, Less,” you gushed quietly as you bit your lip softly.
Alessia’s cheeks burned as her head dropped slightly out of shyness. “Thank you, y/n/n,” she muttered before her team informed her it was time to go.
Alessia was rushed out the door before either of you could say anything else and you were left in the quiet of your home, a warm feeling growing between your legs. You knew you had a few hours to yourself before Alessia would be back so you opted to relax in the living room.
You did your best to distract yourself for as long as you could but the need growing between your legs was overpowering. If you were going to get yourself off you were going to be quick about it since Alessia could be back at any moment. You swallowed lightly before propping one of your legs on the coffee table in front of you and spreading the other. You sighed as your hands pulled at your clothing, groping your chest as your hips rolled slightly.
Your mind was full of Alessia, what it would be like to have your way with her, and how she’d sound begging for you to fuck her. Your breathing picked up as you slid your hands down your body toward the waistband of the sweatpants you were wearing. You pushed your shirt up your torso some, gripping it as your other hand dipped under the elastic of your pants and underwear.
Your body jerked at the feeling of your cold hands on your skin as you ran a finger through your wet folds. You moaned the sensation, Alessia’s name falling from your lips without realizing it. You pushed a finger into your wet cunt, thrusting slowly as your eyes fell shut and your chest heaved.
You added a second finger and sped up your movements, pumping your fingers inside you as your hips grind in time with your fingers. You moved the hand that was holding your shirt up to grope one of your breasts under your shirt, moaning as you pulled at the hardened nipple. You chanted Alessia’s name as your back arched off the couch, your thighs clamping your hand between them.
You came with a loud moan of Alessia’s name and kept your fingers pumping inside you to help calm yourself down. After a moment, the sensation became too much and you pulled your soaked fingers out of your pants. You swallowed harshly as you stared up at the ceiling, your chest moving rapidly.
You stood up after catching your breath to wash your hands in the kitchen and as you headed to your room, the front door opened. Alessia sighed as she closed the door behind her, leaning against it as she shoved her heels off and dropped her small purse. Your eyes widened slightly, hoping she hadn’t been right outside the whole time.
“Remind me to never do that again,” she groaned as she moved to the couch, dropping into the spot you had previously occupied. You blinked a few times before joining her, you couldn’t just say nothing and head to your room just yet.
You offered her a small laugh in response as you sat next to her, leaving enough space between the two of you. The dress she was wearing was driving you crazy and you didn’t know how much longer you could last.
“What did you get up to while I was gone,” the blonde questioned, turning her head to face you.
“Oh, um...not much. Just watched some TV, y’know,” you shrugged, though Alessia knew you well enough to know that you were lying but she didn’t press you.
She mumbled a small ‘nice’ before you were both sitting in silence, both of your thoughts filled with similar things. You bit your lip as your eyes trailed up her legs to the hem of her dress that rested on her thigh. Oh, how you’d love to be between her thighs right now.
Your breathing picked up as you thought about how she would taste and held back a moan as you pictured going down on her. “Y/n, are you all right,” Alessia asked softly as she slid next to you, a hand landing on your thigh.
You nodded but refused to meet her eye and Alessia wasn't having that. She raised her hand to turn you to face her, your eyes filled with arousal as you stared at her lips. “Alessia,” you whispered and the blonde’s thighs flexed hearing you say her full name.
“Yeah,” her voice was just as quiet as yours as she ran her thumb along your cheek. You leaned in slowly, giving her enough time to pull away if she wanted.
When she didn’t move away, you connected your lips in a hesitant kiss, waiting for her to move first. You both sighed heavily into the kiss as your lips moved against each other, your hand falling to grip her thigh. Alessia moaned softly into the kiss at the feeling of your hand on her and you took the opportunity to move your tongue into her mouth.
You slide your hand further up her thigh, pushing the bottom of her dress to her hips before your hand hits the fabric of her panties. Alessia pulled out of the kiss to moan louder, her forehead resting against yours as her eyes fell shut.
“I wanna taste you, Lessi,” you mumbled, your voice laced with arousal as you rubbed your fingers over her covered cunt. You could feel how wet she was through the piece of clothing and it was driving you crazy.
“Please,” she croaked out and it was all you needed to drop to your knees in front of her. You bunched her dress around her hips as you placed light kisses along the inside of her thighs, small whines falling from her lips as she waited for you.
You pulled her panties down her legs, tossing them somewhere behind you as her legs spread for you. You gulped softly as you stared at her dripping cunt before making yourself comfortable between her thighs.
You hooked your arms around her thighs, moving her legs to rest on your shoulders as you leaned in, placing a tentative kiss on her clit. Alessia threw her head back against the couch, one of her hands tangling in your hair as your kisses became more confident. Your kisses turned to suck as you took the sensitive bud into your mouth, sucking harshly as you moaned against her.
Alessia’s hips bucked up as you moved your tongue to run through her wet folds, a loud moan of your name falling from her lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, keeping you as close as possible to her as you tasted her. Your eyes flutter shut as you work your move against her, pulling whines from the blonde above you.
“I’m gonna cum,” she cried, her breathing heavy as her hips jerked against your face. You sped up your tongue, fucking her with the muscle as you held her body tightly.
Alessia came on your face with a loud groan, tears pricking her eyes in pleasure as you kept moving. Her legs went limp against your shoulders and she tugged slightly on your hair to get your attention. You pulled away from her, earning a whine when the cold air hit her cunt.
You sat on your knees as you took her in, your eyes falling to her partially exposed chest. You weren’t close to being satisfied and you stood on wobbly legs, offering her a hand. Alessia took your hand, letting you help her up and guide her to your bedroom. Her mind racing from this new experience.
You closed your bedroom door softly behind you and moved the two of you to the edge of your bed. You took your time stripping Alessia’s dress off her, letting it pool by her ankles before she stepped out of it. Your hands rested softly on her waist as your eyes scanned her completely bare body.
Alessia’s breath hitched when you kissed her collarbone before trailing kisses to her breasts. She pushed her chest forward as your lips wrapped around one of her nipples, sucking on the bud as one of your hands slipped down to grab her ass. You pulled away from her completely after a moment, a string of spit connecting your lips to her nipple as you did so.
You took a step back to strip, tossing your clothes to the floor to be picked up later. Alessia shamelessly let her eyes ogle your body. You turned to move toward your nightstand, pulling a girthy strap on from the drawer before turning to face the blonde. Alessia’s eyes dropped to the toy in your hand and felt her cunt grow even wetter.
“We can stop if you want,” you offered, not wanting to overstep any boundary.
Alessia shook her quickly, “I don't want to stop,” she croaked out. You nodded with a small smirk as you harnessed the toy around your waist. Alessia felt lightheaded at the sight of you with the strap on between your legs.
You motioned to the bed with your head, letting her get into whatever position she wanted to be fucked in. You bit back a small groan when she crawled onto your bed and stayed on her hands and knees. You moved around the bed to return to the edge before kneeling on the mattress behind her. You ran your hands over her ass, smacking her skin softly as you kneaded the skin.
Alessia whined at the feeling, her head dropping as she stared at the cover of your bed. You slid your hands up to caress her hips, rubbing your thumbs over her back. Alessia waited with bated breath as you moved one hand to the toy between your legs, lifting the tip to her cunt. You pushed the strap into her, your hand returning to her hip as you bottomed out. Alessia gasped at the full feeling, her hips pushing back against you once she was comfortable.
Alessia’s skin felt hot against yours and you took a small intake of air before pulling out some. You snapped your hips against her, your skin slapping against hers as you thrust. Alessia’s arms buckled slightly at your thrusts but her hips pushed back against you with each one. You sped up your movements when loud whines fell from your best friend’s lips, your name never sounding better.
“Fuck,” you huffed as your thrusts became rougher, your head falling back as you closed your eyes. Your eyes were back on Alessia when she moved to rest on her forearms, her hands gripping your cover as continuous whines filled your room. The loud sound of your skin hitting hers and the sound of you fucking her mixed with her moans made your head spin.
“Fuck, Less. You’re taking me so well,” you grunted as squeezed her hips, most likely leaving light bruises in your wake.
Alessia moaned at the praises, her hips faltering as she was close to another orgasm. You kept your pace steady, your hips snapping against her body roughly. “I’m so close! Please-” Her words were taken from her when you hit that particular spot within her, a loud whine taking their place.
You focused on your movements, determined to have her experience one of her best orgasms ever. “Cum for me, Alessia,” you grunted as you railed into her.
With a loud whine, Alessia fell into the mattress she came on your strap. You kept your hips going as you helped her through her orgasm, broken cries from the blonde edged you on to keep going. You fucked into her with the same momentum as before, a third orgasm hitting her as she whimpered.
You pulled out of her slowly, the blonde breathing heavily as you tossed the toy to the floor. You ran your hands up the back of her thighs, up her ass, and over her back in a comforting manner, the blonde’s skin sweaty under your touch.
“You good, Less,” you mumbled into her ear as you leaned over her, placing small kisses along her back. You moved slightly when she rolled over, her fucked out expression became your favorite sight in that moment.
Alessia licked her lips as she nodded, her brain too foggy to form a sentence. You smirked as you lay on your side next to her, one of your hands tracing random shapes along her body. Alessia turned her head to face you, her eyes locking with yours as she leaned up to kiss you. She could faintly taste herself on your lips from earlier as she pushed you onto your back.
You stared at the blonde in shock, you hadn’t expected her to have enough energy to reciprocate, not that you minded. Alessia straddled your thigh and you moaned quietly as you felt her wetness on your skin. She traced a finger down your body and leaned down to kiss you. You moaned into the kiss when she ran her finger through your wet folds, your hips bucking up to meet her finger.
She dipped her finger inside you slowly before pulling it out quickly. You gasped lightly, her finger felt ten times better than yours had felt earlier. Your eyes screwed shut when she pushed two fingers deep inside you, pumping them slowly to edge you closer to your second orgasm that night. You held the cover beneath you tightly as your back arched off the mattress, hips rolling in time with her thrusts.
“L-less,” you stuttered, your head thrown back against your pillows as she fucked you closer to the edge. “P-please,” you begged.
Alessia sped up her fingers as her other hand to rub your sensitive clit. Your body jerked at the feeling, a loud moan falling from your lips as you let go, cumming all over her fingers. Alessia slowed her fingers some before pulling them out of you completely.
Your eyes fell open at the loss of contact and they fell on Alessia as she brought her fingers to her mouth, sucking them into her mouth to taste you. She moaned at the taste, her eyes closing as she licked her fingers clean. You gulped at the sight, desire building once more.
“Fuck, that’s so hot,” you grunted as you sat up, your arms wrapping around her waist to pull her flush against you. You both moaned slightly when your sensitive nipples bumped each other.
Alessia wrapped her arms around your neck, her fingers playing with the baby hairs on the back of your neck. You stared up at her, a look of love clouding your eyes as you smiled at her. Alessia giggled quietly as she gave you a quick kiss but you pulled her into a deeper kiss before she got too far.
“I'm in love with you, Alessia,” you whispered against her lips, a sense of nervousness filled your body despite everything that just happened.
“I’m in love with you too, y/n,” she blushed, a smile on her face as she spoke. You beamed up at her before kissing her once more, though this kiss was softer than the last.
Alessia pulled back with a small yawn, her tiring week mixed with the sex had exhausted her. You cooed with a small smile when you saw her bow her head bashfully. You moved the two of you under the covers, placing a small kiss to her hairline as she curled into you.
“Goodnight, Less,” you whispered against her head as you pulled her close to you. The blonde mumbled a quiet ‘goodnight’ before sleep took over.
You were glad your feelings were out in the open now and the two of you could talk about it more in the morning. But for now, you were content to cuddle Alessia as you both slept, a smile on your face as fell asleep.
#woso x reader#awfc x reader#engwnt x reader#lionesses x reader#alessia russo x reader#alessia russo
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Slow Down, You're Gonna Crash
Chapter One
Summary: Being a Verstappen means realising that you'll never be as good as her brother. She knew it. That was why she ran away to California. Of course, she's gonna fall for the older, naval aviator. And, of course, it pisses her family off.
Bradley Bradshaw x F1!Driver Reader
Warnings: Allusions to smut
1.5K
In her defence, she didn't realise that The Hard Deck was a navy bar. She just wanted a drink, a moment of peace before she got back onto the road.
It was empty as she sipped her very first drink, savouring it. The longer she sat there, the longer she had to spend I'm San Diego, away from her family. But that was entirely intentional.
By the time she finished her first gin and tonic (something she had gotten a taste for because of her brother). The bar began filling up. She stood up from her seat, fished her keys from her pocket, and moved to leave. But she found herself back in her seat, found herself intrigued.
These navy men weren't like the men she hung around with. They were bigger, much more muscular. She watched from the corner of her eye as a few of them played pool.
"Would you like another?" The bartender asked kindly.
She immediately went to stand. "I can come and get it," she said, but the bartender shook her head, promising to bring another gin and tonic to her. Another gin and tonic and she wouldn't be able to drive.
As she sipped her second gin and tonic, a man walked in. The only similarity he had to the navy men was that he had aviators low on his nose. It didn't matter that it was dark outside, he sill wore them. A hawaiian shirt was on his body, open to reveal the white beneath. She'd seen her share of moustaches on friends, fellow drivers, her heroes growing up, but none of them looked as good with one as he did.
Colour her intruiged. She sat back as she watched him, sipping her drink as he wandered over to the bar and ordered himself a beer. As soon as the beer was in his hands he was walking over to the group playing pool behind her.
She lost sight of him then, but thought nothing of it as she drank. Two drinks and that would be her lot.
The man in the hawaiian shirt walked past her. He sat at the piano and pressed a few of the keys. His aviator friends surrounded him, singing along with joy as she played.
She couldn't look away from any of them. It was quite a sight. She had seen similar celebrations in her own line of work, like when her brother won his first championship.
He finished playing and everybody returned to what they were doing. His aviator friends walked past her in her both as they headed back to their drinks and to play pool. He went to do the same. She watched his watched the way he held his beer in his large hands, the way his hawaiian shirt moved around him.
But, suddenly, he was sliding into the seat opposite her. She couldn't hide her surprise as he sipped his beer and said "Hi."
That was it. Just 'hi'. She'd been chatted up so often in her line of work, she thought she was immune to it. But one little word from the gorgeous man across from her and she was ready to melt.
But she held her composure. The way his dark eyes stared into her own, the way a small smile played beneath his moustache, wasn't making it easy. "Hey," she responded almost nonchalantly as she picked up her drink. She'd been trained by her media team for stuff like this. But, one look at the man in front of her, and she wanted to forget it all.
"I haven't seen you around here," he continued.
She didn't think he knew who she was, but this confirmed it. It sent sparks through her. This was freedom.
"I'm just stopping by," she replied, a smile playing on her lips.
He held his large hand towards her. "I'm Rooster," he said.
She took his hand and shook it. "Well, Rooster. Do you always sit with random girls in bars?" She asked.
For a moment, a very brief moment, panic shot through him. But as soon as he saw the smile playing on her lips, he immediately relaxed. "Only the pretty ones," he replied.
She saw an opportunity. "Well, if I'm so pretty, then you wouldn't mind telling me your real name. Because I'm betting its not Rooster."
He shook his head. "You're right, it's not actually Rooster," he answered. "I'm Bradley. Bradley Bradshaw."
In return, she gave him her first name and her first name only.
"Have you got a last name?" Bradley found himself asking.
The name suited him. Bradley. She hadn't said it outloud yet, but couldn't wait to feel it on her tongue. Even if it was for only one night.
She didn't tell him her last name, instead pulling out her I.D card to get him to read it. He took it, the I.D card looking tiny between his fingers. "Ver... Vershtap..." He tried to say it again, trailing off in a mumble.
"Close," she laughed. "Verstappen."
Bradley continued to blankly stare at her. So she decided to teach him. "Repeat after me. Ver."
"Ver," Bradley repeated. She couldn't help but laugh, it wasn't like it was difficult to pronounce.
"Stap."
"Stap. Verstap," he said nodding.
"Pen. Verstappen."
"Verstappen," he said slowly. But then he said it quicker, surprising himself with just how easy it was. "It's pretty, where is it from?" He asked and took a swig of his beer.
"It's Dutch," she answering, curling her fingers around her glass. "On my dad's side."
Bradley said her name in full. The way it rolled off of his tongue, she could have listened to it forever.
He looked at her I.D again. His face dropped. "You're twenty five?" He asked in surprise.
She nodded her head and sipped her gin.
"I'm thirty six," he replied.
Bradley went to stand up, to take his beer with him, but she shook her head. "It's not a problem with me," she said and he stilled. "You're younger than my brothers girlfriend and that is my threshold."
So, Bradley sat back dow. As they drank, they spoke. Bradley got her another drink when hers ran dry.
"What are you doing here in San Diego?" He asked as he slipped into the seat beside her.
She tapped her nose. "That's for me to know," she said and giggled. But she really wasn't going to tell him. She'd learnt by now that, once somebody knew who she was, they started treating her differently.
She didn't want that with Bradley.
She didn't know when they started kissing. But her hands were in his hair and she could feel his moustache against her lip. Bradley had his hands on her ass, squeezing lightly as he pulled her onto his lap. "You wanna head back to mine, find out why they call me Rooster?" He whispered against her lips.
She pulled away and nodded her head. At that, Bradley squeezed her hip. "I'm gonna need your words, pretty girl," he said and she kissed him again.
"Yes, Bradley," she said, her forehead against his. "I want you to take me back to your place and show me exactly why they call you Rooster."
Bradley grinned. He took her hand and led her out of the hard deck. As he took her past the other daggers, Nat sent a wink his way.
"Which one if yours?" She asked. She wasn't going to point out her car to him, the McLaren she was currently borrowing from the man that had taken her job. But more on that later.
Still holding her hand in his, Bradley took her over to the Ford Bronco.
She let out a whistle. "This is sweet," she muttered as she looked around it.
Bradley beamed. His Bronco was his pride and joy. "You know about cars?" He asked and she nodded her head.
"You could say I'm a car mechanic," she said and giggled.
Bradley opened the car door for her and helped her into the Bronco.
She fiddled with the radio for most of the ride back to his place. Normally Bradley was precious about his radio. He had it set to a station he liked, and nobody was allowed to change it. But he didn't mind when she did it. When she found a station she liked, she settled back in the passenger seat of his Bronco and hummed along.
Bradley was a gentleman. As soon as he pulled the Bronco into the driveway of his house, he opened the door for her and took her hand as she jumped out. He pushed the door shut and immediately pressed his lips against her own, hands cradling her head as he gently pushed her against the Bronco. She couldn't stop the gasp that escaped her lips. "Fuck," she whispered against his soft lips. She'd never kissed someone with a moustache before, it was a different sensation, brushing against her lip as she fought for control.
She pulled back, chest heaving as she stared at him. "So, you gonna take me inside or what?"
Taglist: @biancathecool @not-nyasa @nurse-sainz
#bradley bradshaw#bradley bradshaw imagine#bradley bradshaw x reader#bradley bradshaw fluff#bradley bradshaw x you#rooster#rooster imagine#rooster x reader#rooster fluff#rooster x you#bradley rooster bradshaw x reader#bradley rooster bradshaw#top gun#top gun maverick#rooster top gun#top gun imagine#top gun fanfiction
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Insomnia
You had always had trouble sleeping.
As a child, you would wander the house in search of something to do, as a teenager you utilized it for spending countless nights painting the town red with your childhood best friend Yuji, but, as an adult, you find yourself spending more and more nights sitting in front of the window, waiting for the sun to rise in a peaceful quiet.
The view was always better from your partner Sukuna’s apartment. Tucked into the very top of a complex that scraped against the sky, the city stretched out before his ceiling length windows like an endless mirage of glittering light. Looking out of them, you would never know it was three o’clock in the morning. The city still bustled, people the size of ants crossed the main streets below you in swathes of different walks of life; business men lost to highballs with too much whiskey, friends on their way to the next nightclub, shop workers calling to anyone with a pulse on the sidewalk. It was a perfect people-watching spot and a perfect distraction from the nightmare replaying in your head like a broken record.
You’re sitting on the cold tile floors of his living room, curled up in a blanket you had taken from the arm of the couch. You’re positive Sukuna had never used it before and that it’s always been a decoration before you had arrived. Now, it was part of your nightly routine when Sukuna had you over to unfold it and curl in, while you spent countless hours drifting off in your own mind waiting for morning.
It wouldn’t be long before Sukuna was up now, he had a meeting at seven o’clock in the morning that day. The two of you hadn’t gone to sleep until around midnight, naked and content. You wished you could sleep as deeply as he had been when you carefully crawled out of his bed half an hour ago, but you had accepted your insomnia by now. You found ways to live with the burden of it, and you had long since made friends with the silence and peace of nightfall.
You always did feel guilty when Sukuna was affected by it. Like tonight, when your ears catch the door to his bedroom clicking open and you hear his bare feet against the tile approaching the living room.
Your heart momentarily skips a beat. You think about hiding- sprinting into the bathroom as an excuse for your late night absence from his bed, but he makes it into the threshold of the living room before you get a chance to decide.
Despite the guilt washing over you like a bucket of cold water, your heart still warms at the sight of him. He’s slipped into a pair of sweats to come find you and is still in the middle of putting on a tank top when he appears, sleepy and squinting against the light of the city signs glaring in. His hair is still a mess from your fingers pulling on it before bed, which somehow makes him even more heart wrenching to look at. Even when his eyes find you on the floor, and he immediately frowns you’re still starstruck by his sleep drunk appearance.
“Why are you so good at that?” His voice is thick with sleep, but he talks to you as though you were just in the middle of a conversation.
You tilt your head at him, peering over your shoulder in confusion. “Good at what?”
“Leaving without waking me.” He scratches at the back of his head, yawning as he makes his way across the room to come stand beside you. One of his hands sweeps down his face, like he’s trying to wipe away his clear exhaustion.
“It’s no easy task.” You admit, hoping your innocent smile is enough for him not to push any further. He stares down at you for a moment, searching your eyes reflecting in the neon of the city line.
He huffs through his nose when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, muttering to himself as he plops down beside you and folds his legs into a cross-legged position. He’s close enough that his side is flush against yours, his knee resting over top of your own, grounding you. “So stubborn.” You hear him say.
As if it were second nature, you immediately rest your head against his shoulder and his arm comes around your waist in turn, scooting you even closer to him. The two of you fit together perfectly by now. Constantly trading off between who was yin and who was yang, but always in equilibrium when you were side by side.
“I need to get you a bell.” He murmurs against the shadows of his living room.
You chuckle, “Yeah? Gonna collar me?” You’re just poking fun, but when you peek up at him expecting him to be chuckling too, you find his eyes honed in on your neck, like he’s considering it.
He doesn’t give you an answer to that one, but you can see it in his eyes that your joke has been taken as a suggestion to be logged away for future use. You bury your face into his shoulder, feeling your cheeks burning in embarrassment.
You don’t take it back.
The two of you sit like that for a while, allowing Sukuna’s presence to diffuse the unease from your haunting dreams. He doesn’t have to do much to comfort you. When Sukuna was beside you, comfort was a given. He joins you in silent people-watching, his hand protectively curled over your backside as though he can feel the nightmares lingering just out of his sight.
After a while, he squeezes you to catch your attention, but doesn’t ask you to pull away from your resting place against him.
He turns his head to press his lips into your temple, and the way he whispers your name then has you convinced you’d tell him any secret you promised you’d take straight to the grave. “Why are we awake?” He asks.
“I couldn’t sleep.” You whisper back, as though you were afraid that the nightmares would hear you and realize they had won.
Sukuna takes a few seconds breathing in your scent, patiently waiting for you to give him more information. He hums in disappointment when it’s clear that that’s all you were willing to share at the moment.
“Suppose I didn’t work you hard enough last night.”
It’s a joke. Such an obvious one that you can’t help but let out a laugh despite your thoughts weighing heavily.
“Please,” You plead in a groan, “I barely made it to the living room without crawling on my hands and knees.” This was not a joke. Your legs shook like jello the moment you were on your feet and they ache with the memory of overexertion even when you're sitting.
“I do love you on your hands and knees.” Another suggestion that you can tell he’s logged away for future use. At this point you were doing it to yourself.
You still don’t take it back, though.
“Let’s see,” He clears his throat and his voice takes a different cadence now, no longer conscientious of the time of night… or day rather. “The last time you had a nightmare and I caught you out here, you asked me to make you pancakes. I think I still have the mix in the cupboard…”
You freeze up against him, your head moving mechanically upwards until you’re face to face with him. The man who reads you like a book. When you’ve tried so hard to stay shut up. When you’ve worked your entire life at achieving the perfect poker face. Time and time again he proves to you that it’s useless when he’s got your soul tucked away in his hold, yet, it never stops surprising you.
Sukuna tilts his head, smiling like you’ve confirmed his suspicions with just one glance. “What? You think I don’t know that much, at the very least? How aloof you are~”
He takes the opportunity to scoop your hair away from your shoulder and tuck a few strands behind your ears so that he can see your sleep deprived face clearly. At the same moment, his free hand reaches over and finds yours in the blankets.
He's smug with your shock.
“How long are you going to try to hide from me?”
“I’m not hiding…” You whisper, even your own voice cannot bear to lie to him. He makes a warning noise, leaning closer like he can tell.
“One day I’ll know it all. Every secret you want to keep from me. Every dream you’re too shy to tell me.” His mere proximity is enough to scramble your mind. The way his lips play just out of your reach, the way his nose brushes yours ever so slightly, the way his thumb presses into your ring finger, all of it has your focus split into too many incapacitating directions. “Your burdens. Your nightmares. All mine to bear.”
You don’t doubt him. It’s yourself that you find apprehensive to trust. Convinced that your own mind was going to torture you with him there or not. You had spent years battling insomnia alone, and while you hated to deny him, you hated to get your own hopes up too.
“You can’t scare away all my nightmares, my love.”
"Hmm, is that right?” Sukuna lifts your hand to his face, presses it against his lips, and places a kiss to the very center of your palm. It's almost as sweet as his next words, “Sounds like I'll just have to give you so many good dreams you’ll forget about the bad ones, then.”
You wonder if you looked as awestruck as you felt in that moment.
He’s won. He knows he’s won. You can tell by that prideful toothy grin you feel him hiding behind your hand, the one you can see in the curve of his eyes.
The way your heart climbs into your throat, like it’s desperate to be home in the palm of his hands, has you instantly knowing that you were truly a hopeless cause at this point.
“When did you become so soft and sweet?”
Sukuna laughs under his breath, “When I found out that’s just how you like it.” He answers easily, like he’s asked himself the same question before.
“Now, do you want the pancakes or not?”
Before you can remind him that he has a meeting in only a few hours, before you can assure him that you weren’t thinking of food at three o’clock in the morning, your stomach releases a growl that’s begging for Sukuna’s undivided attention.
He snorts, not even bothering to wait for a verbal answer before he’s maneuvering to his feet, still grasping your hand gently in his own.
“Come sit pretty on the counter for me.” He tugs you. “It’s cold out here.”
You don't think you've ever felt warmer.
#jjk#sukuna#ryomen sukuna#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#jjk x you#jjk fluff#sukuna slept like a rock before you came along#now he knows what an empty bed feels like#he makes you coffee every morning#and gets offended when you try to make it yourself
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I just want to be the 141’s resident nuisance (brat) Particularly to Price.
Walk into his office, stare at him for a second and then just turn the lights off and walk out so he has to get up to turn them back, grumbling to himself.
Seeing him in the gym all sweaty from a vigorous workout and asking him if he’s “Taking it easy today, cap?”
Fix him a drink and setting it just out of his reach.
Making snide comments or just lazing about in his office as if it’s my own personal lounging room, touching his bookshelf and looking through his very few photo frames.
did someone say poly!141 with brat dynamics
c/w: implied smut, poly dynamics
you drive them up the wall. don’t get me wrong, they adore you and would do anything for you. but you’re such a little shit and it’s a wonder that price and simon let you get away with this much
price plays the waiting game with you. lets you dig yourself a deeper grave before he begins to bury you alive with the consequences of your own actions
normally sends you on your way with a quick swat to your ass and a stern warning but this time he’d decided it was time to put you in your place. remind you who was really in charge
you practically skip into his office, a smile on your face and a glimmer in your eye which can only suggest mischief. the smile drops quickly from your face when you see johnny, gaz and simon in his office too
“what’s going on?” you pout, “having a team meeting without me, old man?”
price just gives you a closed-mouth smile, an unnerving laugh leaving him. a laugh you know he keeps reserved for his enemies, “no, love. we’re just about to take part in a team-bonding exercise. see, we need to figure out how to handle a mutual nuisance in all of our lives.”
“you talking about johnny?” you giggle, flicking the scot’s ear before he can smack your hands away with an unimpressed grumble
“very cute, lovie. but you know who we’re talking about.” the captain smirks, “‘bout time you had an attitude adjustment, hm? now, bend over the desk.”
#mw2#cod mw2#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#captain john price x reader#john price x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#kyle garrick x reader
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both sinners (part three) (end)
pairing drugdealer! rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
content warning drug use
summary as a stripper, you’re well aware that someone you know could walk into the club at any moment. when rafe is your newest customer, you’re actually glad to see a familiar face.
» masterlist
*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*
You stagger backwards, hitting the table behind you, as you watch what’s happening in front of you in disbelief.
Rafe is crazed, punching the man who touched you over and over and over again.
“What now, bitch?” he shouts over the music. “Try and touch her now!”
One of the bouncers comes rushing towards the booth and holds Rafe back. It’s a struggle, with Rafe overpowering him and getting one more punch in, before a second bouncer helps to constrain him.
You watch them push him away. Rafe looks to meet your eyes, his chest heaving and his mouth ajar, as he gets pushed out of the club.
You blink in incredulity, unsure of what to do, until you finally go backstage into the dressing room to regain your composure.
You’ve never seen someone so angry over something someone else did to you.
You know what happens to guys that get thrown out. Rafe won’t be let back in for at least the night. It’s possible he doesn’t get let in ever again.
You pull your phone out of your locker and text him: i’m off at 11. we can meet somewhere?
You go back out onto the stage, looking for another customer to make your money and try to shake off what just happened, at least for the rest of your shift.
After work, you meet Rafe at the address he texted you after he was kicked out. He booked a room at a five-star hotel.
“You know, you didn’t have to start swinging,” you tell him when he meets you in the lobby, a coy smile on your face. “We have bouncers for that.”
“They’re obviously doing a great fucking job,” he snips sarcastically. “He grabbed you twice.”
“And I slapped him twice,” you reply. He shakes his head in irritation, taking your hand to lead you to the elevators. Thinking about watching you get touched like that makes the anger swirl in him all over again.
“Not hard enough.”
“So protective,” you tease.
Rafe pushes the top button. You smirk. Of course he got the penthouse suite.
“You realize if they remember what you look like, they might never let you back in, right?” you say as the elevator doors close, leaving you completely alone in the enclosed space.
“Strip at another club, then,” he rasps, leaning down and dragging his hand off of yours to squeeze your ass.
“You think it’s that easy?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes.
“What place wouldn’t want you?” Rafe asks, gripping harder as he pulls you against him, his lips an inch away from yours.
The way he looks at you makes you feel like he’s utterly obsessed with you. It’s addictive.
The elevator doors open and he slaps your ass to usher you out.
The suite he booked is massive, covered in marble surfaces and gold decor. Rafe leads you through the foyer to the bedroom, where the city lights glimmer behind floor-to-ceiling windows. The place is exquisite.
“Couldn’t you have found something nicer, baby?” you joke, turning to look at him.
He scoffs a chuckle as he closes the distance, hands already up your skirt. He’s been turned on since you stepped on stage hours ago, imagining how hard he’s going to fuck you.
Rafe kneads your ass before roughly pulling the skirt up to your waist. He thinks back to the way the sheer fabric of the dress you wore on stage hugged your body under the club’s lights.
“You know what?” he says.
“What?” Your breath hitches as his hand presses up against your middle.
“I’m gonna buy you more of those slutty little outfits.” His voice is low. “So while you’re dancing up there, you think about who bought you what you’re wearing and who fucks you.”
By the way his cock is hardening against you and the way his breath is spreading on your skin in shallow pants, you can tell he gets off on spoiling you.
You lick your lips and tilt your head, nudging your nose against his.
“I’m the only one fucking you, right?” he mutters, his fingers pressing harder. You love how frequently he likes confirming it.
“Why would I need anyone else?” you reply, loving how you can rile him up.
When his fingers spread your lips apart, you exhale shakily.
“Only I can play with this pussy, yeah?” He rubs over your wetness and finds your clit, making your knees weak.
“Fuck,” you whisper. “Yes.”
“You gonna dance for me, baby?” Rafe rasps. “I’ll give you more tonight than your customers make in a year.”
You nod, words escaping you. You feel him unzip your skirt, the fabric dropping around your feet. You pull your top over your head, left in just a bra and panties, and his eyes take you in as if it’s the first time he’s seeing you.
“Damn,” he huffs. It’s unbelievable how much you turn him on. The fact that you know how sexy you are, dancing every night for men who you don’t let touch you. Only he can touch you. “How are you real?”
You giggle, regaining some composure.
“Sit down,” you say, looking at the big bed.
“Over there,” Rafe tells you, pulling you to follow him. He takes you to the bathroom, where you spot a baggie of coke beside the jacuzzi.
Once you strip down between hard, wet kisses, you sink into the hot, bubbling water. You straddle him and he gazes at you through heavy lids.
“You want a bump?” Rafe asks, tilting his head towards the coke. He already took a hit before you arrived.
You nod, craving the feeling of elation the coke gives you. He grips your waist with one hand while he reaches for the baggie with the other.
After he makes a line on the edge of the tub for you, you lean over and inhale the powder, giving him an opportunity to palm your tits.
He loves the way your skin glistens from the water as you settle back on his lap. Your head is swimming with euphoria as you kiss him, his fingers rubbing over your nipples. You start to writhe, rolling your hips and giving him a lap dance.
You dip your hand under the water’s surface, gripping his firm length, prompting him to angle his head back with a groan over the sound of the tub’s jets, his voice echoing through the room.
You can’t wait any longer. You perch up to slowly sink onto him, his tip dipping into your entrance.
“Fuck,” Rafe huffs. Your hands are on his shoulders as you take your time, breathing through the pressure of his cock stretching you.
“Good girl,” he groans. “You can take it all. I know you can.”
You bite your lip as you finally reach his base, dizzy from how deep he hits you, enveloped by hot water.
You start to rock on him and his mouth locks around the peak of your breast. He loves the feeling of pure sin while he fucks you, both of you high and rolling.
You rake his hair back, leaning so your chest presses against his forehead as you start to bounce on him, panting in his ear.
Rafe’s hands curve around your ass as you roll on top of him, the water splashing as you quicken your pace. You start moaning and he squeezes you harder, his face contorting in pleasure.
You moan in his ear as you come to a fast orgasm, clenching around him in flutters. He hardens inside of you soon after, cumming in rhythmic throbs.
“Goddamn,” he groans, thinking back to all the parties he noticed you at. “I can’t believe this is what I was missing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I didn’t know you were this much fun.”
You giggle and the sight of your smile makes him smile back.
“Now you know,” you say with a shrug.
You’re absolutely spent when you lie on the plush bed, body bare and wet, not bothering to cover up with a towel. Rafe loves the sight of you like this and he leans down, smoothing over your cheek with his hand as he kisses you.
“We’re getting room service,” he murmurs. “What do you want?”
“The most expensive thing on the menu,” you joke. He’s unfazed, pacing to the phone surely to order exactly that.
“Wait,” you laugh. “Let me see the menu.”
Half-naked and high, you and Rafe sit on top of the bed, the television on in the background, eating at midnight.
It must be the coke and the sex and the delicious five-star food, but you get the impulse to ask what you’ve been wondering all night.
“We both know you’re the only guy I’m seeing,” you say, “but am I the only girl?”
“Obviously,” he says simply.
“It’s not so obvious,” you say with a laugh.
“Now it is,” Rafe says. You appreciate his direct approach.
“Why do you deal?” you ask. Seeing his house just once would tell anyone he comes from a wealthy family. He doesn’t exactly need to be selling drugs.
Blue eyes meet yours and he smirks.
“Why, you wanna go into business?” he quips.
“I think I make enough dating you,” you respond with a laugh. Rafe likes how exclusive it sounds. Dating. Meaning you’re his only.
“I like making my own money,” he says honestly. “And I like having coke around when I want it.”
“You’re a no bullshit type of guy.” Rafe appreciates the compliment.
“Why do you strip?” he asks.
“Why, you wanna go into business?” you echo.
“Shut the fuck up,” he laughs, nudging you. You decide you’ve eaten enough, letting the gentle push shift you to lie on your back again.
“You’re hot. You’d do great as a stripper,” you tease, raising your arms above your head and sighing. He takes in the vision of you lying like this, relaxed and joking around with him, and he realizes he hasn’t felt this happy in a while.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Rafe says.
“It’s great money,” you reply. “Especially if you have a rich drug dealer obsessed with you. It’s funny because you’re the only customer I’d dance for for free.”
He laughs again and you look over at him, sitting up shirtless, and smile. It feels like something out of a movie. A drug dealer and his stripper girlfriend laughing together in an extravagant hotel room.
Rafe moves the paper containers off the bed and sinks between your legs, laying his head on your chest.
You run your hands over his firm, warm shoulders and sigh at the sensation he gives you. He seems to live for the next 24 hours only, and so do you, and this is why this works so well.
He gives you a wad of cash before you part ways.
Your next shift is a few nights after your time in the hotel and Rafe is relieved the bouncers don’t recognize him. He settles in a cushioned chair in the dark club, knowing if they denied him entry, he wouldn’t take no for an answer and it would get ugly.
His heart skips when you walk out in stage wearing a black lacy set he bought you. You drift around the pole like a goddess, slowly undressing, making him hard in seconds.
Rafe looks away when you approach a man sitting in a booth. He might break someone’s jaw if he watches you dance on them, especially if they touch you.
He knows your interest in these guys isn’t genuine, remembering how you told him he’s the only one you’d dance for for free. This will just be a shitty part of dating you, and compared to the good parts, he can take this.
A few minutes later, you walk over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Hey,” you say over the throbbing music. “Thought I should tell you that guy just asked for a private room. Don’t freak out.”
Rafe’s jaw tightens as he takes a pull of his drink. You notice his irritation immediately, leaning over to speak into his ear.
“This is just work,” you say. “I can’t wait to clock out so we can fuck like we did in that hotel room.” His lips quirk up in a smile.
“I’ll break his hands if he tries anything,” he warns. You believe him.
After your shift, you and Rafe head to a party at one of the mansions sitting on the north side of the island.
But instead of leading you to the front door, he pulls you to the dark, empty shoreline, and you can tell by the look on his face that he’s turned on.
“On the beach?” you say, amused.
“You said we’d fuck, didn’t you?”
When you find a place on the sand, the night sky nearly starless, the waves crashing, you pull each other’s bottoms off with fervor.
Rafe’s on top of you, breaths shallow as he nips at your shoulder, guiding himself into you with a hunger deep inside him. It seems the more he has you, the more desperate he gets.
“I was hard all fucking night watching you dance,” he mutters, sinking into you, inch by inch.
“Fuck,” you whisper, tilting your hips, sinking into the sand. “Fuck, that feels good.”
“Who else can do this to you?”
“Nobody,” you answer. “I’m all yours, baby.”
“Yeah, you fucking are,” he says, pulling back and thrusting into you. His hand grips around your neck as he pounds you, claiming you with every slam.
You mean it. You’re his, happily.
After you make your way up to the house party, Rafe pulls you onto his lap the second he finds a seat on the massive balcony facing the darkened beach where you just fucked.
A man comes by asking for a gram and Rafe pulls out his bagged coke, trading it for bills. After the deal, he places a few twenties in your pocket, kissing the side of your neck.
You still feel the sand on your skin as he skims your leg with rough fingertips.
Maybe you’d be ashamed doing this with another man, being paid for sex and getting spoiled and doing drugs and fucking every chance you get.
But with Rafe, the sin is so sweet that it doesn’t feel wrong at all. You’ll happily live in the next 24 hours with him, over and over and over again.
(the end)
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#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and y/n#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic
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Lover Boy-The Relationship
~Lover Boy by Phum Viphurit~
Author's Note: Listen idk
Summary: Luke and Y/N put a title on their relationship
Warnings: underage drinking
Word Count: 2,117
Luke Hughes x Edwards sister!reader
She sat at the table with Nessa beside her, watching the boys be swarmed with girls. She clenched her jaw as she watched Luke flirt with a short blonde girl. Nessa rested her hand onto Y/N’s arm trying to be reassuring.
Ethan wandered towards the pair, alone. He held three drinks in his hand as he delicately rested them onto the table. The three glasses were filled to the brim with mixed drinks. Y/N took a hold of one of the glasses and began to sip for several seconds. She forced her gaze back down at the drink, staring at the drink less full.
Ethan stared towards her, wide eyed. He slowly sat down, sliding his glass towards himself. “What’s wrong with you?” he asked before he took a sip of his drink. She shrugged as she pushed the glass away from her. “Your date not go well last night?” he asked.
It was the exact opposite, it was the best night she’s ever had. They didn’t get back to their dorm building until after two in the morning. She watched as Luke’s gaze shifted towards their table. He straightened his posture as he smiled politely towards the girl before he wandered away from the crowd.
“It was fine,” she muttered, lying. Ethan nodded suspiciously.
She watched him walk towards the table, keeping his attention towards Ethan. Y/N dropped her gaze towards her phone on the table. She began scrolling through Instagram.
“What happened?” Ethan asked Luke, he shrugged as a reply as he rested his hands on the table. He let out a huff of air as he shifted his gaze towards Y/N, his cheeks flushing red.
“She kept asking about when I’ll be in the NHL, not even sure she knows my name,” Luke said while chuckling nervously, he met Y/N’s gaze. She clenched her jaw as she looked towards Nessa.
“That’s annoying,” Ethan said before he took a sip of his drink, his eyes danced around the bar. “I’m gonna go talk to some girl,” he continued as he danced awkwardly with the drink in his hand away from the table. He pointed towards Y/N while nodding dramatically. He was drunk, it was easy to tell, he never dances unless he was drinking. Y/N smiled towards him before she shifted her gaze towards Luke.
Luke shifted awkwardly as he glanced towards Nessa before he met Y/N’s gaze again. “I’ve got to use the bathroom,” Nessa muttered as she stood up from the table and began manuering through the bar away from the pair.
Luke leaned his body against the table, a shy smile on his lips. “I’m sorry, she came up to me. I didn’t-”
“Luke,” she interrupted, leaning towards him. His mouth clamped shut. “It’s not like we’re dating,” she said as she smiled kindly towards him. He leaned towards her, glancing around him. He checked to see if there were any wandering eyes.
“Well, that’s the goal though, right?” he asked, widening his eyes.
“Is it?” she asked while a smirk toyed to her lips.
He scoffed playfully as he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. His lips curled up in a teasing smirk. “I mean of course,” he let out as he ran his tongue over his bottom lip as he pulled his lips between his teeth.
Before she could say anything, Dylan came up behind Luke smacking his hand against his shoulder, “Come on, we're doing shots,” Dylan took a hold of Luke’s bicep forcing him away from the table. Luke smiled towards her as he shook his head laughing.
She dropped her gaze towards the drink, she took a hold of her straw and began stirring her drink.
~~~
Several hours later, Luke was walking both Nessa and Y/N back to their dorm. They were waiting in the elevator. It was awkward silence as Nessa was standing between Luke and Y/N.
Nessa’s phone began buzzing in her pocket, she quickly pulled it out and brought her phone to her ear. “Hey,” she whispered, her eyes widened as she glanced towards Y/N. “Yeah, I’ll be down in like two minutes,” she mumbled, “Alright, love you.”
Y/N furrowed her eyebrows as she looked Nessa up and down.
“Derek’s here, we’re gonna go to his place,” she explained as she looked towards Luke. The elevator doors opened, letting Luke and Y/N step off. Nessa pressed the lobby button as she winked towards the pair.
They stared towards one another, fighting off the smiles forming on their lips. “She’s ridicious,” Y/N let out as she started walking backwards towards her end of the hallway. She held out her hand towards him. He excitedly took a hold of her hand, letting her lead him astray towards her room.
Shamelessly, he stared towards her frame, watching her hips sway back and forth. “What am I supposed to tell Duker?” he mumbled as she slowly stopped in front of her door, leaning her back against the door. He rested his hands against the door, holding her in place. She looked towards him, shrugging his shoulders.
“Tell him you changed your mind about the girl at the bar,” she teased.
“He knows I’m walking you to your dorm because Eddie asked me too,” he mumbled as he brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face.
“Tell Duker that I didn’t want to be alone and you slept on my floor,” she said as she dug her keys out of her pocket. She held the keys in front of her face, he gladly took them and unlocked the door for her.
“He’s not going to believe that,” he whispered as he unlocked the door, handing her the keys before he shoved the door open. He rested his hands onto her hips as he guided her into the dorm room. “But I don’t really care,” he mumbled as he locked the door behind him before he planted his lips onto hers.
She hummed against his lips as he tightened his grip against her hips. She pulled away, taking a deep breath, “We’re not-” she trailed off, suddenly very nervous. He shook his head instantly.
“No, we’re gonna do a lot of this,” he mumbled slowly before he pressed his lips against hers. She began stumbling backwards towards her bed as their lips remained connected. Her body began to tingle as he loosened his grip along her body, gliding his hands delicately along her hips.
She pulled away from him, breathily as she sat down on her bed, looking up towards him. He took in a sharp breath as he scanned her features. Everything about her seemed perfect. He delicately reached his hand towards her cheek, brushing her hair behind her ear.
He leaned down towards her, gliding his hand from her jaw towards her chin. He tilted her head up. He leaned towards her, his lips hovering over her own. He smiled as he watched her lean towards him, craving his lips against hers.
His phone began vibrating in his pocket, he groaned as he pulled away from her. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled. He pulled his phone from his pocket to see Dylan calling him. He pulled it towards his ear. She sighed as she hopped off the bed and wandered towards her closet.
He watched her movements, “Duker what’s up?” Luke asked as he watched her reach into her closet for comfy clothes. She tilted her head to the side while widening her eyes. Luke smiled as he rolled his eyes playfully. He spun around facing away from her.
“I’m staying at Rutger’s to-tonight, I can’t get back to the ro-room,” Dylan slurred. There was shuffling on his end of the phone.
“He’s fucked man, Kayleigh and I are taking care of him,” Rutger offered on the phone.
“Yeah, alright, well tell him to call me in the morning,” Luke expressed as he kept staring towards the small alarm clock on her side table.
“Will do, you make it back to your room okay?” Rutger asked. Luke cheeks flushed red as he took in a sharp breath.
“Yeah, yeah,” he lied. Rutger hummed.
“Good, man, see you tomorrow,” Rutger said before he hung up the phone.
Luke pulled the phone from his ear, he delicately placed it down onto the side table, tilting his head back. “Can I look at you now?” he asked, quietly. She hummed as he spun around. She smiled as she walked towards him.
“Dylan okay?” she asked as she delicately rested her hands onto his chest.
“He’s going to regret being alive tomorrow but Rutger and Kayleigh are taking care of him,” Luke explained as he took a hold of her waist, pulling her towards him. “Come on,” he whispered as he pressed his lips against her cheek, “Let’s get some sleep,”
He reached around her waist, lifting her up in the air. A dramatic laugh leaves her throat as she is thrown onto the mattress. “Luke, what are you doing?” she asked as she took in a sharp breath. He tugged on the comforter as he climbed underneath the blanket, she quickly tucked her legs underneath. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her towards him. He pressed his lips against her shoulder. “We cuddle now?” she asked as she took a hold of his hand, interlocking their fingers. He hummed as he nuzzled into her neck.
She smiled to herself as she pushed herself back, creating less space between them. “Is that okay?” he asked, his voice slightly rasped. She spun arond slowly, meeting his gaze. She took her hand away from his and rested it onto his cheek, running her thumb across his cheek.
“Think so,” she muttered as she pulled him towards her, kissing him delicately.
~~~
It had been nearly a month since their first date together. They’ve practically spent nearly every night together they could. Whether that was a group setting with the other players or just themselves.
The only other person that knew about their situation was Nessa. It was starting to become a lot of pressure for her. She was doing everything in her power to not let it slip.
Luke and Y/N were walking side by side through the dining hall searching for something to eat. Ethan, Dylan, Nessa, and Derek were all wandering around as well.
“Can we tell Duker? It would make things so much easier,” he whispered as he smiled politely to a friend from one of his classes. Her eyes widened as she shook her head.
“You tell Dylan and then he tells Jacob and then he tells Rutger and then-” she rambled.
“Okay, okay, I get it. I just-when can we start telling people?” he asked as he guided her towards one of the stations. He picked up a plate and began adding chicken to his plate. She sighed as she brushed a few pieces of hair away from her face.
“When this becomes serious,” she muttered as she walked away from him. Luke lifted his gaze as he watched her walk away from. He scoffed while rolling his eyes.
He clenched his jaw as he finished making his plate. He walked towards the large circle booth the other members of their little friend group were sitting at. There was only one spot left, and it was on the end beside Ethan. Y/N was sitting beside Nessa on the other side of the table.
“Hughesy, are you going out tomorrow night? Might be our last friday we can go out for a while,” Ethan asked before he took a dramatic bite of his salad on his plate. Luke shook his head as he met Y/N’s gaze for a second.
A small smirk formed onto his lips, “I’m taking my girlfriend out to dinner and we’re going to this drive-in movie tomorrow,” he let out. Y/N’s eyes widened slightly as she kept her gaze towards her food, Nessa gripped her thigh.
The boys all cheer, excitedly, “Since when dude?” Dylan said, reaching across the table to scruff Luke’s hair. He leaned away with a smirk on his lips, he shrugged slightly.
“I haven’t really asked her yet, but pretty sure she’s my girlfriend,” he said, switching his gaze towards Y/N. Her gaze was still staring at her food.
Ethan wrapped his arm around Luke’s shoulder, glancing towards Y/N and back towards Luke, “You happy?” Ethan questioned, meeting Luke’s eye. Luke nodded, nervously. “Good,” he muttered as he switched his gaze back towards Y/N.
She finally lifted her head to meet Ethan’s gaze, he winked towards her.
#luke hughes x reader#luke hughes imagines#luke hughes#luke hughes fanfic#hockey#nhl imagines#nhl#nhl x reader#nhl fic#umich imagine#umich hockey#umich#Ethan edwards#jack hughes#jack hughes x reader#jack hughes imagines#quinn hughes#quinn hughes imagines#quinn hughes x reader#nj devils#new jersey devils fic#new jersey devils x reader
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With all the strength they had left, the hero crawled into the villain’s apartment through the window. After surviving the superhero, this should have been easy but it turned out to be exhausting.
The hero had landed in the bathroom and without wasting another second, they pulled themselves up and searched through the cabinets. Unfortunately, their bloody hands left enough evidence of them breaking in already. They supposed they’d have to face the villain sooner or later, even if that meant the villain was going to throw them out again.
For now, they found something close enough to practical — a razor — and opened the first aid kit the villain usually stored under the cabinet. Before they could take out the blades, the villain opened the door.
“You’re not as quiet as you think.” The hero looked at them and smiled softly. Teeth stained with blood, heavy limbs.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” they said. With no hesitation, the villain helped them up and took the razorblades out of their hands.
“What happened to that pretty face?” they asked. With one hand on the hero’s hip, they reached for a clean towel and turned on the sink. They let the soft fabric drench in warm water and gently cleaned up the hero’s face.
It all happened so fast. The villain didn’t seem to mind that the hero was here in the middle of the night.
And they were close. So close.
Whereas the villain was focused on the hero’s face and getting rid of all that blood, the hero stared into their eyes. Maybe it was this cruel change: brutal violence coming from someone they had adored to gentle tenderness from someone they had loathed.
The villain looked down at them. Their thumb traced the hero’s jawline and the hero looked away, almost ashamed.
“You look like shit,” the villain whispered. “And you woke me up.”
“I’m sorry,” the hero said. They looked at the villain’s clothes — their underwear and a shirt. The hero blushed a little. They took the villain’s hand and reached for the razorblades. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
The hero let go of them with a gaze that lingered a little too long.
“They chipped me,” the hero explained. They cleaned the blade with some rubbing alcohol and took in a deep breath. “Chipped me like a fucking dog.”
They cut into their own forearm, watching as the blood ran down their skin. It burnt even more than the open wounds on the hero’s back. They supposed they just had gotten used to that sort of pain, even if that was impossible.
With the blade, they dug through skin and muscle, clenching their teeth until they found the little tracker. They cursed when they pushed their fingers into the wound to fish it out.
Once they had the bloody device in their hand, they let it fall to the ground and crushed it under their boot.
“I knew trackers are useless at your place. You’ve slipped through my fingers quite a few times that way.”
The villain didn’t say anything. They just stared at the hero who cleaned their arm.
It wasn’t exactly easy to crawl to their nemesis and beg for shelter. The hero was too proud to do that anyway and they had planned to leave after cutting out the microchip.
“I’m sorry to have bothered you,” the hero said.
“You didn’t bother me.” The villain took a step forward and took the hero’s hands. “Are you alright?”
The hero frowned.
“Of course I am. I’m fine. I’m doing great.”
“You’re sure about that?” The villain let their fingers intertwine and suddenly, the hero felt very tired very quickly. “You’ve been so busy these last few days. I barely got to see you. They sent over some other lame heroes.”
The hero chuckled tiredly.
“I mean, why would they think I am satisfied with all the other rabble?” One of their hands glided down the hero’s forearm where they put pressure on the wound. “You always wanted to be a hero. When did that change?”
“I don’t know,” the hero said but the desperation and the hopelessness were already settling in. It didn’t even buy them time to lie to the villain. One way or another they found out anyway and most of the time, they asked the hero questions they already had the answers to.
The hero couldn’t really take it anymore. The pain was too much, their mind was breaking more and more.
“Oh, so many tears on such a pretty face,” the villain said. They pulled the hero closer and wiped their tears away with the back of their hand. “Don’t you know it’s not your fault?”
“They turned against me,” the hero said. Their voice trembled. “All of them. They chipped me, they put a bounty on my head. They’re trying to kill me because I don’t agree with…with all this shit.”
The villain cupped their face. “With what?”
“With all this stupid collateral damage and these dumb advertisements. Most of the time I feel like a mascot, I’m barely saving any people.”
“Oh, darling.” The villain tilted their head. Their presence was comforting in a way the hero hadn’t had experienced before. Whatever they’d done to each other in the past, the hero didn’t care. They were familiar, they were warm. The hero wasn’t going to let anyone take this moment away from them. “And who exactly beat you up like this? Your boss, I assume?”
“…yeah.” They could play pretend. They could pretend the villain was closer, that they were more than acquaintances. Even if it wasn’t real, even if the villain was using them, the hero needed some affection right now. They’d gladly give the heartbreak to their future self.
“My poor hero,” the villain said softly. “Would you let me stitch you up?”
The hero nodded.
“I’ll protect you,” the villain promised. They pulled them close to hug the hero. The hero didn’t understand why they were so gentle, so kind. Most of the time, they insulted each other like children. But the hero needed this. They really did. “They will pay for this.”
#shake baby baby shake bis uns der Himmel auf den Kopf fällt#writing snippet#heroxvillain prompt#heroxvillain snippet#heroes and villains#hero#villain#hero x villain#heroxvillain#h/c
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so Rangiku's Bankai is named Haineko Asama, and since Haineko means "ash cat" and Mount Asama is a volcano in Japan, does that mean her Bankai can create a pyroclastic cloud? Or does "asama" mean something else in this context?
Got in in one!
Haineko: Asama is a Bankai that creates a Vesuvius-like eruption of 1,000 °C (1,800 °F) Hot Gases and Burning Tephra and a REALLY FUCKING LOUD KABOOM. The Pyroclastic cloud can travel up to 430mph and destroys everything in it's path- opponents closer to the epicenter are the luckier ones- the sheer kinetic energy for the explosion incinerates them immediately. Those farther away may find their bodies punctured with molten shrapnel, crushed by flying boulders, or suffocated and cooked alive as they are encased in ash like the victims of Vesuvius.
It's not an easy Bankai- the energy output is catastrophic, and the longer the 'Eruption' goes on, the greater Rangiku's risk of falling into a coma or straight-up dying from expending too much energy increases. It's also not an easy Bankai to train- For a while, Rangiku wasn't 'wielding' her Bankai so much as just 'releasing' it and learning about the damage when she woke up a week later.
In the end, the ONLY person who could help her with training Asama was Yamamoto himself, because of his Literally Divine resistance to fire, and a millennium's worth of practice at dodging to deal with the rocks and ash. He had to take her out to the ass-end of nowhere in South 80 to find somewhere deserted enough to practice without mass causalities, and the practice STILL effected the weather in the rest of Soul Society. He still spent almost a month in the 4th after they returned from The Year With No Summer, getting the burns, lung damage and broken bones treated, while he waited for his pupil to wake up again.
Yamamoto is now Very Fond of Rangiku because she's the first person in a LONG time that proved to be an actual challenge for him as an opponent, was an interesting student to teach and the first person to even begin to comprehend the problems he faces as an Avatar of Destruction.
Like most Volcanoes, Rangiku spends a lot of time sleeping. Nobody who knows what she's capable of when she 'awakens' complains about her nap schedule.
#AEIWAM#An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy#Bleach#bleach fanfiction#rangiku matsumoto#Haineko#I feel like she should be allowed to go the fuck off at people you know?#See Also: Elemental Typing solidarity in the Gotei 13
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Waxing, Waning, My Unraveled Body Beheld By the Moon [Yan!Aventurine x GN!Reader]
The sun is not always shining. But the moon can only shine because of the sun.
A companion piece to Sunrise, Sunset, My Destroyed Body in the Onset. This fic assumes you've read it, so I heavily recommend you read it first before reading this. It'll make more sense if you do.
Ao3
Word count: 15.4k
TW: Implied/referenced noncon, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, mild gore, violence against reader, choking/strangulation, Stockholm syndrome, Aventurine's Past shows up, EXTREME tonal whiplash due to the beginning (but frankly it's so you can brace yourselves...the calm before the storm), Reader needs a hug, Ratio where are you my man needs therapy NOW, twisted "happy endings" my beloved
Note: This got so out of hand. Aventurine is the most potent brain worm I've had in a while. Poor reader though. They used to be such a cringefail, now they're a poor little meow meow 😔
(Written before 2.2)
You stand on the top of a tower.
It’s a modest and small thing, but every second and breath you’ve taken is in its service. Time is its mortar, and actions are its bricks. It is stable, for you’ve built it straight up; a wide and strong base, with little deviation. If it had a shaky foundation, then you wouldn’t even bother.
You have no plans to construct it into something grandiose and spectacular. It’s best to keep your ambitions realistic, for it is so very easy to use and dispose of those with dreams bigger than themselves and small enough to be crushed in the palms of those atop skyscrapers. Your tower is modest, and you will keep it that way. You will have to become a cog in the machine for that to happen, but you can meagerly control the stability of your cog.
It is cruel that it has to be that way, but you aren’t capable enough to change the way things are done. You might as well make the most out of this.
You know this song and dance, by now. The park is closed at this time of night, but, and it might be your greatest achievement of them all, you found a way to sneak in undetected. Granted, there wasn’t anyone to stop you, but you were always good at being quiet, so rarely are you noticed.
You park your bike, well hidden in the bushes and trees. This is the noisiest part of your visit since the bike is heavy and you can’t suppress your soft grunts as you weasel it into its spot. But it’s worth it. After that, you walk along the trail, and when you’re far enough away, you stop trying to silence your steps and enjoy the sound of your boots falling onto dirt. It’s a soft but firm sound, and it brings you a sense of peace. You hike until you reach it. A little trail to the side; few sets of feet have paved the dirt, and even those who decide to pursue it usually turn back at the impenetrable foliage. But, you know there’s a stop. It’s tucked away, discovered by a much younger and adventurous you. You’re not sure if you found this place because you wanted to pretend to be a fairy princess or a heroic knight who saves the princess, or if you might’ve always been a little bit lonely. Whatever the case, you found this place, and it has since been your reprieve whenever things become too much.
You know the area like the back of your hand, so you turn off your phone’s flashlight as you make your way. It’s a small clearing of forest, but it’s perfect. Bushes and trees surround you in a half-circle from behind, and in front of you is the ledge of a cliff. From here, the sky has a clear view and it is always lovely whenever there’s a sunrise or sunset. Sometimes, when your mind wanders, you wonder how long you’d fall if you tripped over the ledge. But those are just musings you have no intention of acting on.
The moon does not grace you with its shine, but that’s alright. You’re here to see it shine on everything else. You’ll bask in the darkness, and admire the silver sheen on the rest of the world; the world which gets a fraction of the sun, even at night. You settle into your spot against the tree trunk, shaped so it nearly encircles you in its embrace. A silly thought crosses your mind: has this tree loved you? Of course not, but it’s just that: a silly little thought.
You’re not here for any especially soul-crushing reason or anything. It’s the usual: schoolwork ramping up and deadlines creeping up. And the accompanying existentialism of what comes after. It’s just another peaceful night during a stressful time. It will soothe your soul, the comfort within shall ebb and flow, and then it will all fade away when you’ve returned to the world blanketed in the sun’s golden sheen. When it all piles up again, you know you can always come back here: your special place, where you can curl into yourself as much as you want to. And as always, you will fight the urge—so tiny that it’s insignificant but still so omnipresent—to sink your head fully into your stomach and become a mass of unthinking flesh. Becoming smaller and smaller until you aren’t even a speck.
The wind picks up. The cold doesn’t bother you much, but your so human, and instinct propels you into nuzzling into your cotton scarf. It does mean you have to wash it often, but the inconvenience outweighs the comfort it provides. Yes, tonight will be a lovely one, spent doing nothing but staring at the moon from the shadows, alone with your thoughts and nocturnal critters that may tussle in the shrubbery. You hear a series of quick rustles—squirrels, maybe? Two of them, considering the frequency of rustling and the fact that it’s their mating season (well, you’re pretty sure spring is mating season. It could be wrong, but it’s useless trivia anyway, isn’t it? In the back of your mind, you imagine someone berating you). Another rustle plays, and you sigh wistfully. And then—
“…Hello,” A voice, shrewd and low sounds out.
Ink makes your vision go black and the only reason you don’t gasp or scream is because you’ve always froze before you ran. But even if you were a runner, where was there to go? You don’t know who this person is, where they are, why they are in your special place and why they’ve come here like a malicious boy kicking down a toddler’s sand castle or could they be here to prevent you from ever coming back to your special—
You swallow your panic and look for an exit before it forces itself back up. It’s not the first time someone’s noticed you, but you never really had to worry; you could just slip into here, and they’d give up when you couldn’t be found. But this is uncharted territory. More importantly, if anyone else were to know about this place, it would be a ranger. And you aren’t very interested in counting empty donut boxes and coffee cups during a run-of-the-mill interrogation.
Slowly, and as quietly as you can, you make your move. Your hands are clammy, and each step feels like it will cause the earth to crack and you’ll fall into its molten core. You’ll be melted down, and the idea that you may be reforged sends another surge of panic within you. You cannot let a single brick crack.
“I’m not here to hurt you if that’s what you’re thinking,” the voice says, much much much closer now. The words themselves should be of relief to you, but the fact that he’s closer means he knows where you are—in fact when you turn to look behind you, you can see a vague silhouette. Still, the few seconds you took to turn around also made it so that rather than relief and panic nulling each other, somewhat cool relief washed over you. Even if this entire situation is very, very, very weird.
Should you just leave? He could just be lying to you. You weren’t great at figuring out people’s intentions, but you’d think that the most likely one in this situation leaned toward the malicious. However, you didn’t even notice his existence until he spoke. The fact that at the very least, he could weave through mostly undetected. If he could do that, then you think it’s not very likely you can just get away.
You accept that defeat, so you decide to do something a little stupid. You talk to the stranger. In the event he’s a serial killer or something, maybe a conversation will let you get a good enough handle on him that he might just…let you go. Your heart hammers and you want to do nothing but shake, but you will yourself into a blizzard. If you are there, then you might be able to freeze and delay the ink that begins to drip.
“I’m pretty shocked,” you mutter. Your voice is still a bit disconnected, still reeling, “I’ve never met someone here. How’d you find this place? Why’d you come to this place?” You ask these questions, and you won’t mind dying as much if they’re answered.
“Work,” he cryptically says. You just barely pick up on a sardonic lilt.
“So you’re a park ranger,” you deflate, and you nuzzle into your scarf as you brace yourself. But levity is powerful, and you’ll tap into it. “Here to arrest little ol’ me, then? You could’ve waited, at least until the moon started to dip. It’s a pretty solid night, methinks.” Your heart feels a little numb from hammering into your ribs so much.
The ranger hums, “Moon’s the moon. It’s not bad, but the sun’s always pretty nice. But you’re right. It would’ve been better to wait till the sunrise. Alas, my schedule as of late has been a horribly rigid thing. I’m sure you know how it is.”
“Hmph,” you frown. It feels like he’s a cat playing with a mouse. You sigh with defeat, “Oh well. I’m not exactly known for being slippery, so I’m not even going to try and outrun a ranger of all people,” you extend your hand lazily, “Just get the cuffs already,” you decide to pout, to turn the situation around to something more comical and less soul-crushing, “Any longer, and the suspense’ll bury me six feet under. The records might call that cardiac arrest, but I call it embarrassing—the thought of dying like that is a real heartstopper.” Ha, look at you! A true punster, you little rascal. There is no reason for you to defame or attack a guy just doing his job, so if you go down, you’ll at least go down with a slow-witted joke or two. Across from you is a law-abiding Joe, and you are the evil thief mothers warn their children about. Truly, it cannot be more black and white than this, so it’s best for everyone that you don’t make too much of a fuss. See? You are capable of ethics! Or maybe that was more like philosophy? Eh, what’s the difference? You’re still fucked, and you very much want to die.
“Arrest you?” The ranger’s voice teeters toward, um…you think it’s some mix of sarcastic, mocking, and—oh wait, you’d call it ‘teasing.’ “Do you want to be arrested?” He teases, but it feels like the way an owner would talk down to a beloved puppy. You don’t appreciate it.
You frown. “No. Why would I want to be arrested?” You deadpan, “Can you please stop skirting around the issue?” More ink blots your sight, as your palms start to clam with unwanted anticipation. You think they could be gushing with your blood, if this guy keeps dragging your arrest out like this.
The ranger laughs. Laughs. You aren’t sure if you want to join him or shove him off the cliff. Whatever the case, now you know that there is a nonzero chance this ranger has a bit of a sadistic streak. Instinctively, you take a few steps back, as if that could save you from disaster, from plummeting over the edge of your tower.
“…Please tell me you aren’t planning anything…” The words you were thinking of saying suddenly elude you, but you’re already speaking. You have no choice but to see what haphazard replacements you make, “…goofy silly. Or something.”
The ranger clicks his tongue. It seems he’s fully dipped into a playful veneer; whether that’s his true self, or the mask he thinks you’ll best respond to in the way he wants, it nudges you a little further to the edge. You defensively nuzzle into your scarf, trying but failing to calm your nerves. You’ll give yourself one point, though: you thought you’d be more inclined to be screaming or crying. That’s probably because you are technically doing something illegal, so there’s really no one but yourself to blame for this predicament. Really, why do you still come here like this, when you know it’s against the rules? It’s not the first time you’ve asked yourself that question, but it’s certainly the first time it feels sort of tangible.
“‘Goofy silly?’” The words seem all at once perfect and dubious when carried in the ranger’s voice, “Hm…you know what? I do feel like I’m in a ‘goofy silly’ mood!”
Oh. Well, guess you’re double fucked. It was a good life, the clean record, you suppose. But what is life if not change? You’re entering a new era now, hardened criminal you. Crime will be your lifeblood; anything scared shall disintegrate into something depraved at your touch. You’ll do it all: tax evasion, defamation, shoplifting, parking offenses. Society will not be free of your crime sprees—all will fear the Suburban Terror. Karens will cower before you, the neighbors will hate you, the teenagers will prank you, and the children will scream with fear at you. All because the consequences of your actions caught up with you at the behest of the actions of some guy who just so happens to be able to arrest you.
“So, about that arresting,” the ranger continues, “I won’t be doing that!” he peps.
Everything stands in place. “What?”
“I’m not gonna arrest you!”
“W-well, I heard that,” you stammer, “but why? You literally said you’re here for work!”
You can practically sense the ranger’s lighthearted shrug, “I am. And I’m not arresting you. Simple as that!”
Everything feels like it's going too fast and too slowly. Whiplash isn’t good for the soul, in your opinion. “But…but the law…”
“Who said the law needs to be followed?”
“The government and state…” and then something clicks, “Hey, if you’re a park ranger, then aren’t you working for the government? Is this corruption?”
You imagine the ranger smirks. “What is corruption but a tool of the game?”
“What does that have to do with this conversation?” You find yourself deadpanning. “And why aren’t you answering?”
“Life’s a game,” he breezily purrs, “and conversation is a part of life, so really, it has everything to do with this conversation.”
“I think I’d rather go through a physics textbook than deconstruct that sentence,” but you find yourself smiling. The ranger has a good sense of humor, you find. You take a few more steps, no longer teetering on the edge. In the back of your mind, you think that he could just be lowering your guard, but honestly? Maybe you shouldn’t doubt a person’s goodwill, even if it’s technically illegal. Well, you don’t care about what’s illegal and not; if hairless monkeys with godless monkey brains are imperfect, then the things they make are imperfect too. Regardless…you don’t know his face, and he doesn’t know yours either. In other words, you’re both complete strangers. If you ever meet each other, you won’t even recognize each other, won’t ever truly register each other’s existence outside this singular shared moment.
That anonymity, the opportunity to exist without future consequence…it entices you, and you’re drawn into it. Drawn into levity and shedding your superficial guard.
“Careful, you might insult a doctor of physics or two,” the ranger says with an insinuating lilt. Perhaps he knows a physicist or a student suffering with their doctorate thesis. Information that is all at once useful and impeccably useless. “You might just get a piece of chalk lodged in your skull.”
You shrug. “I’m living my best life while they’re stressing over the mechanics of a rat yawning and how that like. Affects the physics of the air or something.”
That gets a soft huff, like he breathed out a laugh, “I say that too, but then he starts going on about quantum mechanics and wormholes…probably a lot more than that, but the stuff’s so incomprehensible I tune out.”
“Your friend sounds…well, like a scientist,” you unceremoniously blurt. “Sure, they’re called nerds, but for good reason. They can talk your ear off, all the while you nod without understanding a single thing…and then they sigh to go talk to someone who actually knows what they’re talking about.”
“‘Talk your ear off’ is a bit of an understatement,” the ranger says, “though I think it’s better to say ‘gives a tongue-lashing.’”
You wince at the image. “Oof. Sorry about that.”
“I’m used to it,” the stranger says. “Besides, I have a quip or two to throw back.”
“Oh.” You aren’t sure how to react. “That…that sucks.”
“‘That sucks?’” his tone isn’t accusatory; it’s curious, with a hint of what you believe is wariness.
It flusters you a bit, for some reason. “W-well,” you stammer, “if you’re used to it, then that means you get, uh, ‘tongue-lashings’ a ton, right? I don’t think people should be getting a ton of tongue-lashings…”
“But what if I do things that deserve a tongue-lashing?”
“Well, then you’d get a tongue-lashing. But, I dunno. I don’t think people should be mean to each other all the time, I guess,” you try, practically rambling, “Maybe it’s just cuz I know I’d just be on the floor in a sobbing heap if someone so much as raised their voice at me…but…but…w-well, you know what I mean!” You raise your hands, making desperate gestures as if you could telepathically communicate with them. Unfortunately, you do not live in a sci-fi with magical reality-bending wizard monk powers, not unless you devote yourself to a singular concept. “There’s always plenty of room for, um. Positive reinforcement, yeah! In fact, let’s practice!” Shit, your cheeks are heating and at this point you’re just incoherently blabbering but now that you’ve started you just can’t stop oh dear Aeons save you— “Uh…you…you follow your heart! By choosing not to arrest me out of…out of principle or, or, or pity…um, well, point is, you have defied the law of your own choosing, which is a pretty uh, gr~eat show of your super strong will! Your beliefs! They say within all delinquents lies a heart of gold, after all! And you know how to be sneak of super! I mean sneak super! I mean super sneak! Urgh, I mean suppppperrrrrrr sneaky. And I bet that’s really nice and I know that’s really cool! It’s a super power on par with that of uh. Uh. An Aeon? Yeah, an Aeon!”
You’ve lost your steam, and now you’re left blinking. The embarrassment flusters you, and now you’re something in between a fish being choked in the hand of a cruel fisherman and a wonderfully eloquent failing car engine. You truly are the epitome of grace and elegance. There was no way the ranger wasn’t at least cringing. Maybe he’d change his mind and just arrest you; after all, how else to fix cringe if not rehabilitate it? Well, if he did arrest you over this, you’d be back to haunt him with like, cheese, or something. You’d jump that hurdle when you got there.
Hm…but you think you kind of wanna crawl into a hole and die…but that expression is too cliche, so instead, you think you wanna crawl into a hole and start a society of mole people. It’ll be like LARPing, except you wouldn’t be role-playing! …Actually, yeah…someone should just kill you right now before you start to laugh and then cry as your embarrassment transitions into self-conscious despair……..that’s how it usually went when you got like this….
It’s a good thing you can’t be seen.
You think the ranger will laugh, stand in baffled silence, mock you, or just walk away, but he chuckles. “Hmmm…you know, I could get used to this; hearing people stumble over their words to compliment me!”
You’re a little dumbfounded, but you’re decent enough at rolling with the punches. You can come up with a headcanon or two on the spot. “Yeah! That’s the spirit! Now that’s what I call some good old-fashioned character development!”
He lets out a soft whistle, “That so? What trope would you say I embody, out of curiosity?”
“Hm…” you tap your chin in thought. You’re in a forest, and there’s a moon, and you get an award-winning idea. “Maybe…hrmmmm…a mysterious vampire, here to whisk the unassuming protagonist away to a forbidden romance, sustaining your very being on their essence…”
“Oh? Am I really that charming even without a face?” He teases.
You laugh. “Well, you are pretty charming, but I was just kidding. I couldn’t just let that opportunity slip away,” your laugh calms into a soft chuckle. “No, I’d say…a mysterious stranger, with a past unearthed and a charming veneer, but beneath it all lay an affable man…who may or may not heed the word of law.” Sure, it’s cheesy, but you don’t care about if he likes cheese or not. You like cheese, and that’s all that matters in this cruel world! If the world doesn’t like that, it can kiss your ass! (You think all of the is while very aware that the world can just as easily kick your ass)
“So…you’re just saying you don’t have a single clue about what my deal is.”
You feel a little offended. In hindsight, maybe you wouldn’t have been great at terrorizing Karens. “I mean, I’ve only known you for like, half an hour. All that I know about right now is that you’re some flavor of anarchist. Probably. Maybe.” But the same applies to him! He knows nothing about you! “But if you’re so confident, then it’s time to prove your mettle!” You point towards him challengingly, even though again, he cannot see you, “You tell me what character trope I am!” (And you briefly realize that you feel light and happy, that your smile is wide)
And at that moment, just at the cusp of truly extraordinary conversation (a claim which may or may not be exaggerated), an annoying thing happens. Your phone vibrates and your screen lights up; your alarm has gone off. Your phone always has the best timing, and you don’t want to scream at it and crush its sorry little body into itty bitty pieces.
“Oh…” you awkwardly exclaim. You’re wearing a light jacket, so the ranger can see the soft glow just as you do. “That’s…yeah, that’s sorta…alarm. Yeah. It’s my alarm. Not me alerting the IPC or the CFSS or something. I…have to go.”
“I see,” the ranger’s voice is light and airy, entirely unaffected. “A shame. I really did enjoy our conversation.” Your mind tells you it’s all empty, but your heart is aching to soar to heights unseen. Because you are only human, those with lone hearts die first.
You want to ignore it so badly, to just converse with this ranger a little bit longer but…but you really can’t. You must abide by it if you want to mitigate your suffering in the morning (re: you’ve run out of energy drinks and coffee at home and it’ll be hell to start your morning without slugging around like a zombie). And just like that, the ranger and your conversation will fizzle away into a distant memory. And you’ll still live, the same as you’ve ever been. And because you’re both strangers, there is no reason to ask each other for anything. Because if you do, then you will both have to live with the consequences of your words. And who knows? Maybe the ranger has only spared you this night because he was in a good mood. Maybe he won’t be so affable the next time you meet.
But there’s something to it. Some allure—no, the same allure of your special place. So you offer something, and you think your face might melt off, with how your cheeks fluster to the point its searing.
“...I come to this place a lot. It’s like…my special little place,” you awkwardly offer. “If…if you were curious about that, er, sorta thing. Yeah. Bye, have a good night.” You stutter awkwardly, stiffly and uncertain. And then you walk away, simultaneously desiring and afraid of hearing what his response to that would be. Of having your fear being validated with rejection.
If there was one moment you could point to that sealed your fate, it wouldn’t have been that conversation by a longshot, nor was it your second, third, tenth, or even your final conversation before he revealed himself to you; it was your offer. After all, people only think fate is immediate whenever it comes to hit them straight in the face. In truth, fate is gradual, of many bricks stacking up into a skyscraper. That offer led you to swim in ink; to traipse into fields of cotton; to weather against frozen infernos; and then finally, to dance in a flowering meadow, your feet raw and bleeding, sanded against the soft blades of poison ivy and oak.
—
He sees you’re on the balcony.
(Only right after when he woke up and felt that you weren’t in his arms and nearly tore apart everything and anything with a scream and that you were gone and had left him like everyone else—)
He’s rather taken aback by this. He was sure you wouldn’t even be able stand come the dawn. But you still unwittingly find ways to surprise him even now. You should really give yourself a pat on the back! Even if it seems like you’re leaning onto the railing for dear life.
The moon covers you in its silken silver sheen. The breeze tussles your hair and makes your robes softly billow. It’s a heart-throbbing serenity, and he finds an iota of respect within him to make his ambush on you gentle. You’ll squeak, pout, insult him, banter, and hiss before you resign and then he can hold you in peace. It’s a predictable song and dance, but he hasn’t tired of it. Seems even he can surprise himself.
(But oh, it’s because it’s something resembling something warm which has become so familiar…and a sturdy rock he can hold onto)
The smile spreads on his face easily (but whenever he’s around you, it’s a little less weighted, a little less about pitiful survival), “Sick of me already?” he adopts his signature lilt, albeit weighed by sleep, as his arms encircle your form. “We’ve only been a couple for a few of months.” You squeak, comically so, and violently flinch as he settles his head in the crook of your neck. Your reaction almost immediately invigorates him, like he’s wide awake in the sun. Your heart rate beats more rapidly, but your tensed muscles relax, just a little. You’ve been practicing, he thinks, to lessen your own burden rather than increase his pleasure. Maybe there’ll come a time when you can mold yourself however you please, and he’ll be none the wiser in your embrace when your hand snakes into his back.
(Don’t do that. Please, he just asks that you melt in his touch, melt right into him and stay—)
He inhales—his chest expanding into your back, and he feels your own breath hitch as if it slices into you—taking in your scent, all at once overwhelming and (newly) customary. A pungent ink comes to burn his nose at first, but underneath it comes moonlit snow, fresh and cool; dancing within a floral and earthy aroma, a dusty cedar scent with wilting flowers; and the afternotes of a decaying musk, passionate and vying for an end. He hums in appreciation, exhaling with contentment. You shudder in disgust because it’s him and you still aren’t used to the way his breath feathers and scratches your skin, over the bits of dried blood speckled over your neck.
“Aw, nuts…” you softly curse, but there’s no surprise to be found. Your words are laced with sleep, but there’s something else to them, he’s noticed. Your words still drip with vitriol (though it’s always been measured with ink, and it makes him purr in delight and it makes him feel even more empty—), but they’ve gotten softer, for lack of a better word. Exhausted, the same way one is when they’ve walked through a blizzard or sandstorm for long enough. How one gets frozen in the bowels of hell’s fires, or how one burns in solitary inferno in the frigid arctic.
And still, you haven’t reached your limit and killed him.
Surprisingly, you turn to face him, and he turns down the urge to lean in and kiss you. For now, at least. He’ll take it when you’ve said your piece.
You probably think yourself expressionless, but there’s a certain way your mouth subconsciously curls in displeasure like you want to scream or vomit your organs. Your eyes can host anything from enraged clarity to dull acceptance. The latter has only appeared a few times, but he anticipates that it will be a common sight as the months pass by. He wipes that look from his mind, and smiles wide as he looks intently into your eyes. The scent of ink burns his sinuses. Right now, your eyes are exhausted, disgusted, and a touch confused; nothing he isn’t used to. His smile goes soft, for he is more than willing to swallow poison you gift him. And as lovers, you’ll have to reciprocate, won’t you?
(Stop. Let him apply thinner to that ink, let him wash it all away and please please stop drowning in it)
“I was sick of you the moment you revealed yourself as the orchestrator.” you bluntly say, as if it’s an obvious fact—and it is—and for a moment he feels like he’s touching ice. You shake your head and sigh, looking back to the moon. You don’t want to discuss the matter, so you move on to another. “I just woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. It’s nothing personal. Happens all the time.”
“‘All the time?’” He echoes and slides his hand into one of yours, where you lean on your arms against the railing. Your hands have been clamming; gosh, he really was something, to get you so worked up in a matter of minutes! His self-restraint is already on a thread when it comes to you. He gives in and gives you a chaste peck. Your lips slightly pucker with disgust, like you’ve sucked on a rancid lemon. But the kiss was meant to be brief, so that’s not an issue he’s too hung up on in the moment. He’ll just work on it with you, later. He trusts that you’ll cooperate, anyway.
(That you do not immediately hurl in his mere presence is miracle enough. He’ll take what he can get, and work from there. That’s how he got here)
He tilts his head boyishly and gives your cheek a playful pinch, “I mean…lately, you’ve been able to fall asleep without medicine—” your eyes widen and your cheeks flush as you’re caught off guard—but he doesn’t cut open your stomach or slice at your ribs to let your own body be the weapon which kills you—and he’s, his goal is always to win, but that doesn’t mean you have to fight. Right now, he’s merely having a heart-to-heart with you, sweetheart. So he doesn’t bother to point out the red on your cheeks, because he knows you hate it. Knows you understand it on a logical basis but still hate it so, so, so deeply and intricately. He doesn’t mind pushing you, but he would rather not see you bashing your head on the wall, crushing your skull and mind into lumps of grounded flesh, to try and ‘fix’ it. He sees that you’re mentally dismembering yourself when you locate the opening you gave him anyway. He doesn’t really need to try with you sometimes; it’s not an insult, it’s the truth, and he still loves you so very much. “These nighttime stirrings of yours aren’t going to be the norm, you know. If you’re able to fall asleep in my arms once, you can do so twice.”
Your eyes flit through a captivating kaleidoscope of disgust, intrigue, disgust again, pungent ink, and then victorious confusion. You scoff, but you don’t entirely deny what he said. “Waking up in he middle of the night and not falling asleep is a common thing. You shouldn’t misconstrue these sorta things y’know. Makes you seem desperate.”
“‘Desperate?’ Coming from you, should I consider that bonafide or just another desperate act?”
You frown. “I was only desperate because of you. The shit you pulled gave me no other choice.”
“Really?” He smirks, letting out a mocking huff, “You weren’t desperate before that?”
You scoff. “If you’re talking about school, then fine, I guess I was desperate to graduate as soon as possible.”
“Errr,” he mimics a buzzer, “two strikes.”
“Are you just projecting?”
“Make that three.”
“Bruh.” You deadpan. You’re quite amazing to be able to momentarily take yourself out of reality, he muses. “I’m not desperate,” you insist, practically hissing the words.
(He’s a bit jealous)
“If you weren’t desperate, then why’d you blindly befriend someone whose face you didn’t even know?”
“…I don’t know my online friends’ faces,” you weakly respond. You’ve conceded, and all you did was for show. For him or for you or for you both. He’s not sure either.
“Alright,” he pretends to concede, “Putting aside that they could just trace your information and learn everything about you…” his hand strokes your neck, goosebumps blazing in its wake, “They wouldn’t have been able to just…snap your neck, with you none the wiser,” He presses a kiss to your uneven pulse with a soft huff of laughter.
“It’s not like I didn’t think that,” you shoot back, “I figured at the time that if you could sneak up on me like that, then I’d be helpless to your whims.”
“Ah, but then…you offered me something: another night, in your special place, underneath the moon…who’s to say that I wouldn’t have been able to carry out any malicious actions? To continue to gain your trust and then stab you in the back?”
You frown. “Well…I…”
“Cat caught your tongue? Well, as I’ve said, the word you’re looking for is ‘desperate.’”
You swallow, and then you say, meekly, softly, like your voice is about to crack, “…I guess. And in the end, you did stab me in the back.”
He did, it’s true. That same iota of respect emerges, which makes him gently kiss you instead of speaking. Anything he’d say would only dampen your mood. You both may know about how disposable—
(Yet when it comes to you, something unpleasant twists his tongue, whenever he calls you disposable and he can’t truly come to vocalize such a statement)
—the two of you are. Nothing more than dots in the universe, nothing more than pawns in another’s game. The hand that moves him is the IPC, and it’s only natural he’s found a pawn of his own: you. Even if you’re not particularly valuable on the grand chessboard.
[Do you even want them on the chessboard in the first place?]
“I’ll make it up to you,” he promises. But you don’t believe him.
“You can make it up to me by never showing your face to me.” Ice encases his hands, stabbing into him; but it also roots him right at his spot. He is unused to the ice’s painful cold, but for as much as it is a deterrent, ice has a tendency to trap.
“Hmmm…how about no?”
“You half-ass…” You groan, tired and defeated. He feels a thread fall. “Seriously, people like you who use others to make promises you can’t and don’t keep are just…well, you know just how much you disgust me.”
(But he admits. He admits that your vitriol is tiring. He admits that he wants to hear you whisper in his ear, the same way he does to you, that he wants you to harbor the same carnal adoration he has for you—that he wants you to tear into him and expose him and then kiss and embrace him and that he wants to feast on you devour you consume you infuse you with his heart and soul so that he knows you’re here and will always be h—)
His jaw expands and closes down. Blood spreads along his tongue like wine, bitter, salty, metallic, and well-aged. You let out a scream of pain, and he only bites harder so that he burns himself into your skin to prove that he has you and that he is hu—
“Ah—ow…ow ow ow owwww—” you hiss, muddied by a sob, “W-why…?” You whimper, “When you already—AH!” His mind is blank, excited by the sweet flesh, only focused on devo—
“S-s-stop! Please!” You beg, and he feels you struggle uselessly, “H-hurts! I-I, what d-did I do to—?! Gh!”
Satisfaction and triumph weave into him. Your screams mean you’re here, means he’s carved himself into you, means he’s indulging in wine.
(But that’s a bit of a leap. He wishes he was as calculated as he makes himself out in front of you when it comes to you)
He pulls away. You breathe laboriously, looking at him with hate and terror, cradling your weeping neck with your hand. You aren’t completely exhausted, but he has made you even wearier if such a thing was possible. “Sorry,” he emptily apologizes, and presses a soft kiss to irritated skin, before moving on to your tears. Blood quickly smears your skin.
You growl, the pain making way for your unfiltered words. “You keep doing it, and it’s always so fucking painful.”
“It doesn’t help with how irresistible you are, sweetheart,” he smiles, and you bristle. “You know it’s because I love you,” he says, to rile you up a little. It helps that he means it.
(So you don’t notice the fact that he was in a hypnotic daze)
“‘Love.’” Your voice shakes. Your eyes are wide, angry, disbelieving, and blank.
“Yep.”
You shake slightly with anger. “Eat shit.” You spit. “Whatever the fuck this is, don’t call it that. Don’t you dare twist that word like that.”
He blinks. It’s not the first time you’ve lashed out over the word or the admission, but he still doesn’t quite know how to answer you. He settles, then, for what he’s always said. “Then what is it?”
“I don’t know. Obsession. Hate. Sadism. Loneliness. Whatever it’s called, it’s one hell of an insatiable beast. All that matters is that it’s hurting me.” You grunt, and bury your face into your hand, sighing blearily. “It’s late. Let’s…let’s not,” you exhale, tired, “Let’s not,” you repeat as if it were all a hopeless prayer. It might be more fitting to see you as a beggar, however. Leave me alone, you beg. Get buried beneath the sands already you Sigo—
“Why don’t you come back to bed?” he softly mutters, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and presses a kiss to your cheek. The lingering blood on his lips blossoms into a weeping flower, a venomous and invasive species. They can be found throughout your skin, dried and wilting, but they’ll always blossom back. “You can sleep in.” Translation: he’ll still wake you up, but only for a kiss before heading to work. Though you’re still hesitant to exercise any bit of freedom he offers you. To be fair to you, you’re so very well aware of where your freedom and “freedom” lie. One has been crucified, and the other is merely its poorly preserved remains.
His mercy isn’t lost on you, but the hope in your eyes is quickly simmered by your hesitation and dread. You look away and grunt, likely hoping he’ll just shrug and walk away. Or at least delay the inevitable. You’re smarter than you give yourself credit for, you know. So painfully aware of your complete lack of power, so painfully aware that any outright resistance just isn’t worth it; isn’t worth risking the pain you fear so, so, so much. But that doesn’t mean that a reminder is remiss. Hesitation is fatal for the gambler, after all.
He hums and grins. He pulls you back and flips you around so that you lean against the railing, slightly hiked up so the tips of your toes just barely press against the ground. It grants him an unfettered view of your expression, almost comical shock morphing into fear as you register your newfound positions. You may not be entirely dangling over the railings…but you’re still at his mercy. You don’t hold onto his hand for dear life because that’s just what he’s decided. And you don’t want him to pursue that option or even fancy it.
[You mean…you want to point a gun into their heart, again?]
Fortunately, he has other plans. As much as he loves staring into your eyes, it’s the only thing he likes about you. He moves his head against your chest, right against that sweet heart of yours. It misses a beat before it resumes its cacophonous rhythm. “Wha…what?” your mortified tongue manages to get out. “Put…put me down!” He gives a content hum in response, nuzzling further into your heartbeat, tracing patterns into your back with one hand and securing you by the waist with the other. His silence only intensifies the cacophony, but he could never bear to shut down any sound of yours. He chuckles. You shiver. He can see you fight not to struggle, fearing that it would send you plummeting.
“It could be so much worse. You know that, don’t you? You live without chains and in a land where dawn shines, but that’s all my choice.” He finally speaks, when he’s decided you’ve had enough. Sure enough, the sound of screams and crumbling cities joins the cacophony. He pushes so he may discover all of the cacophonies your heart plays. He giggles, to twist the point further, “Relax! You haven’t done anything to warrant that! Yet.” You take a sharp breath. “But you still do things. Small things, but still bad things,” you quiver. “I’ve had a few thoughts. A tattoo,” your heart skips a beat, “of a peacock’s feather, maybe, tickling your thigh, or an ace of spades. Nothing too extravagant. Hm, although,” you’re frozen in place, so he moves his hand up to drift around your chest, clutching your waist tighter, “maybe we can just have my name, somewhere here…or…” he hums, for any and all matters pertaining to you need great care and thought, “....maybe we can just go with them all!” He exclaims.
(What is he doing what is he doing no he knows what he’s doing yes he needs to see and feel and taste your ink he’ll take what he can get but what is he doing why is he doing why why why is he doing but why’s he asking it feels so so so good to be the one towering above)
He resists the urge to look up at your expression. Not yet, he’ll save it for when it’s truly exquisite, for when ink burns up into his skull. “Oh, and now that I think about it, maybe something fancy on your back? Ah, haha, but it can’t be super big. It has to complement you, not overtake you! On that note, a piercing or two. Your ears are a no-brainer, but…” he takes on a teasing lilt, like he’s a boy unsure how to act around his crush, “...where~ else~ do we go? The belly button? That’d be pretty cute! Or…” his hand drifts further along your chest, “here…” he giggles, “that’d be so awfully adorable, wouldn’t it?” Your unease rolls out in waves. His grin widens further, foxlike, silently thanking you for giving him so many openings. “Ah, but doing all of that’s like saying you aren’t enough, isn’t it? I’m sorry for implying that,” he purrs the faux apology, “and maybe those kinds of accessories would get in the way of your full resplendence.” He sighs, similar to the way he does whenever he’s done talking. After a few moments, the cacophony quiets down, the ink merely stings, and you breathe close to steadily. Poor thing. You think he was done? “Clothes, too.” Your heart plunges into the depths. His hand teases dipping into your robes, “Why have a wardrobe when it can’t possibly do you justice?” He clicks his tongue. “That just~ won’t~ do~,” he singsongs, and then transitions into a friendly tone, “and hey! You can just think of it likeeee…going full-on commando!” He feels you seize up with disgust drawn out from the very depths of your soul. “That’d be pretty fun, wouldn’t it?” He laughs, “And comfy. A self-proclaimed couch potato’s dream is to endlessly lounge away the days, right? So, then,” he slightly dips his fingers, featherlight against shadowed skin and bitten gifts, “you really should just spend all day in bed. It’s not like you could go outside anyway. And just think about it—” An image pops into his mind, widening his smile, “Wrapped in my blankets, tangled in silk, entrapped into a web of it…” he slides a hand around your trembling wrist, his thumb rubbing over your thundering pulse, “this would look so beautiful, in red ribbon,” he presses a chaste kiss to your thundering pulse, “your ankles, waist…a mess of them over your chest…” he sighs, but he isn’t a negligible man, drifting his touch to lovingly wrap his hand around your neck, “and that pretty little neck goes without saying. You’ll be just like a little gift and I’d really . And,” he chuckles, “I don’t imagine you’d want to leave, either.” You shudder, tremble, make a sound a cross between disgust and a gasp choking on ink. “Hm, actually, that’s a good question,” And then he finally looks up. He is not disappointed in the slightest. You are choking, and completely pale and the only signs of life on your frozen face are your infrequent blinks and quiet breathing. “Do you want to leave me?” He wonders: what will you do? Say? You both know the answer, but for him to ask it would have you second-guessing yourself on what to say. Should you be honest? Should you give him the answer he wants to be true? Should you merely say that the two of you know that already? Or do you just say nothing, as ink clogs your throat?
[Do you really think you’re playing a game? With them of all people? How do you think they even ended up here in the first place?]
The cacophony of your heart cracks and twists the earth into pieces. You shake like a leaf, slowly but surely devoured by a caterpillar. Soft and innocent at first glance, but it only knows how to feast and gorge itself. Your breath comes out in short gasps, as burning ink drips through them and into your stomach. It forces itself out violently, as your sensitive skin clams up, as it painfully inches out of your skull, to thrust itself out through your eyes.
You’re beautiful.
It’s an honor, he thinks.
(And stand so highly elevated)
Although your terrified silence was anticipated, he doesn’t quite appreciate having a one-sided conversation, sweetheart. It seems you need a bit of encouragement, but he’s more than happy to provide. Regrettably, that means fully raising his head, but at least he won’t have to strain his neck to get a look at your face. He hikes you up, and you shriek in with fear, vaulting to wrap your arms around his shoulders as you struggle in vain to give yourself any semblance of contact with the ground. But the tips of your toes just barely graze the smooth concrete. “Dar~ling~,” he sing songs, “don’t keep me waiting, now.”
He smiles kindly. He takes your left hand into his own, gently rubbing in soothing circles. Your heart beats louder, as you’re forced to rely on him even more. You take in a sharp breath, stifled by a flood of ink. He leans his head down, over that nigh-on unbearably beautiful mark on your neck, placing his lips on it like a fleeting feather brushing past. He looks up into your eyes, blackened and blurred, while his own are rounded and soft. He coos and kisses the few that fall, a delightful flavor of vulnerability flowering on his tongue that he can’t get enough of. He tilts his head when he’s done, his expression lovesick and deviously innocent, and goes caress your cheek, to chain you to place. You stay still so that it doesn’t go from choking to cutting. He gives your hand a maliciously reassuring squeeze.
“I’ve got you,” he reassures, “you’re safe, with me.” The words are heavy and loaded yet he says it like he’s holding you close in the afterglow, whispering sweet nothings that mean everything into your ear. Impressively, a scoff is drawn out of you, yanked out through a sea.
(It reassures him, in some strange way)
You clutch at him harder, almost pulling him flush against you in an effort not to fall. Adorable. You’re still enveloped in ink, so looking up at him, you seem little more than a trembling newborn fawn.
Something dark flickers in your eye; the same dark thing he saw on the luckiest day of his life, as the sun shined so brilliantly on the gun held against your forehead. That dark thing which he didn’t foresee, and hadn’t seen since that day, until now.
You tremble, but you purse your lips, and, as resolutely as you can, give your answer.
“Yes.” And then you lean back. Your feet do not touch the ground.
His instincts are far more trained than yours. Pulling you away and into the room is a simple affair. You whimper in pain, struggling against his hold, but it only takes a slight twist to your wrist, an effortless suggestion, for it to cease.
(It’s his whole body that trembles, but you never seem to notice, when you tremble so much yourself and are so often a prisoner in your own mind)
“My friend,” he says, dropping any semblance of emotion in his voice. You nearly shriek as you’re engulfed in an inferno, hyperventilating in vain as smoke from your own burning body clogs your lungs. You’ve brought this upon yourself, though. Trapped in the fox’s jaw, you have nowhere else to go but right here. He smiles emptily, knowing that it makes you want to die. “Why don’t you come back to bed with me? And we can have a chat.”
(He hides his arm behind his back)
Just before he opens the balcony door, a drop of rain hits his cheek. The clouds obscure the moon, sealing its light shut. The sun will not shine on you two.
—
You aren’t shoved onto the bed, to skid across it like a sea of sharp rocks, or anything like that. That makes it worse, you think. Though, with how heavy your mind is, with how much ink fills it, you could see a blossoming flower and think that doomsday was nigh.
Trapped in his hold, out of endless possibilities, Aventurine elects to merely guide your forms to sit on the edge of the bed. He releases you, but whatever relief you felt was burned away when he slots your hand with his own, the other held behind his back. Like this, you two must look like a normal couple. One that had a fight, but then cooled down enough for them to sit and have a serious conversation; to communicate their feelings to one another, leading to a gentle reconciliation and promises to do better. But Aventurine…you’re sure that he holds a butcher knife, hidden behind his back, in moments like these.
You almost don’t hear him over the pounding in your ears eyes heart and lungs and everything. “Just what were you thinking, acting like that?”
Thinking? Thinking? Why would you tell him that? Actually, thinking? Did you even think? You feel your hand get squeezed like a lion clamping its jaw into a gazelle. “I—I, I…I,” you stammer.
“‘I don’t know?’” and you almost demand for how he was able to guess your answer. He hums and leans in further and further, boring those terrifying eyes right into you; you fear that he’ll bore a hole right through your eyes and fill it with himself. So that even in death, a part of him would always infect you.
Your mind, badly addled, nods.
He hums again, betraying no emotion, “I know what you were thinking. And you will, too. I’m sure the two of us are eager to get back to sleep, so it’s best to cut to the chase.”
“Cut…to the chase?”
“To the takeaway.”
It happens slowly, or quickly, or something, you don’t know you don’t really know at all everything drowns in ink—
He leans toward you, and gently pushes you on your back. You reactively scramble, but it doesn’t take much for him to make your struggle useless—and he wraps his hands around your neck and squeezes. Softly, then firmly, then roughly, then chokingly. He doesn’t butcher you, doesn’t spill your blood, doesn’t dismember you and put you back together, doesn’t meticulously carve himself into your skin, he just simply squeezes. That might’ve been the truly shocking thing about this. But you can’t think about that when you breathe and nothing comes in. You gasp, but it comes out as a silent, dying wheeze. You kick, but it’s useless. You try and pull his hands away. Useless. Useless useless useless everything is useless your future and very being are an endless abyss devoid of hope and life and everything you do have done will do is useless meaningless meaningless meaningless you’re dying you’re going to die you are dead you are hopeless and miserable and scared and dying dying dying dying dying he’s bored of you sick of you hates you he hates you hates you hates you hates you hates you stabbed you in the back choking you choking you you cry cry cry cry cry but your tears are searing ink that burns your flesh you’re burning burning burning burning there is no sunlight or moonlight—
You think and think about everything and nothing. You think about your cotton scarf. You think about your parents. You think about your degree and how useless it’s been. You think about the tiramisu you made earlier, and how it needed to set in the fridge overnight.
But no matter what you think about, or what you stop thinking about, you cannot stop thinking about Aventurine.
It hurts, but you can’t say that. It hurts so much, and you feel that your neck will be sliced off your head. You must look so ugly. You feel your eyes bulge, expand from out of your sockets, just a few seconds away from popping out and hanging by a nerve that could so easily be cut and gushing blood that Aventurine will lap up before throwing your corpse out of the window, to throw the trash out of the house. Your nose uselessly tries to inhale, but all it does is marginally slow the hideous mucus that leaks. Your mouth is equally useless, and it isn’t long until you give up and your tongue ungracefully lolls from your mouth. You feel all at once overwhelmed—the tears from your eyes burn your flesh, your eyes will become weights that shake with every movement, the snot will leave behind anguishing trails of acid, your tongue feels like a dumbbell crushing your face—and floating. You decide to float. You think about your cotton scarf, nuzzling—
You dimly realize you’re nuzzling into the grip that’s killing you.
Your body becomes lead.
Aventurine’s expression betrays nothing. But you feel something shake—your body? It’s surprising because you can hardly even blink, let alone move. It’s mostly around your neck. Maybe it’s the lack of oxygen. Your hands have gone limp, uselessly falling to the side, but you haven’t died yet. Aventurine is still busy killing you, and looking at you like you’re nothing and that he couldn’t care less about your reaction. You don’t want to look at him anymore. You don’t want to die with his face as the last thing you see. You’d rather die looking at the moon. But against his ironclad grip, your head doesn’t move. You struggle, but Aventurine’s face remains. Your mind begins to fill with cotton, and your eyes start to glaze, but it's burned away by a particularly forceful squeeze, which quickly lightens, but the damage has been done.
Your tongue is drying. Your vision spots. Not with black, not with the shade of ink you’ve grown used to, but it spots with light. Sunlight. You’re being cradled in the sunlight. Warm and soft, but you’re wretched out of that false sense of security when your body begins to blaze.
And then he lets you go after what feels like years. Something burning and cold and wonderful enters your nostrils and mouth—air, air, air air air air you need air air air air air—
The air doesn’t come rushing in like you’ve seen described in books. It painfully pumps into you, but it’s vastly preferable to the pain you were experiencing just a few moments ago. Your head slumps, turning to the moon's salvation—but you see only the clouds.
When your lungs stop burning, and your breathing returns to normal, Aventurine gently pulls you up into his lap, where he leans against the headboard. A single arm draped over your waist confines you to his chest. His other hand is out of sight. When he’s sure you aren’t getting away, he takes a breath, and his hidden hand comes to tip your head up.
His eyes all at once resemble an aphotic ocean and a flooding dam. You aren’t sure where it comes from, but you realize that, for this brief moment, he has dropped his facade.
“If you want to die,” he says, quietly, softly, almost vulnerably. You must have brain damage, if this is how he sounds. “this is how it’ll happen. By my hand. By my choice. And trust me when I say it’s infinitely better than anything you could do with your own hands,” he removes his hand from your chin to intertwine it with your own, all at once invasive and sweet, “I promise, (Name).”
Your chest begins to flood with a sob. It comes out wrangled and inhuman, but he only clutches you closer. Strangely, he doesn’t lap up your tears. Like many nights before and to come, you pass out, weighed by the agony of living with a man so obvious and indecipherable.
Your last thought before finally shutting your eyes is that Aventurine won’t be throwing you out anytime soon. You do not celebrate the thought, not entirely, anymore. It’s only much later that you realize why: he finally succeeded in forcing a small part of him into you.
—
When you pass out from complete exhaustion, Aventurine quietly tucks your head deeper into his chest. He thinks about yanking apart his ribcage, forcing you into it, and then pinning you there as he forces it to close. It’s begun to rain outside. It pitter-patters, booming in his ears, and nearly shreds his ears apart.
[But a part of you likes it when you drag them down to your level, right, Kakavasha?]
—
His master swirls a glass of red wine. It may as well have been blood; bought by blood, drank in the wake of blood, and spilled into blood. Kakavasha pursues his lips, to not scream in agony as the wine sears his wound; but it will be okay. He is used to weathering the sun, trudging through heavy sand, with his mouth drier than the environment. He can withstand this searing heat. He’s already withstood iron-hot metal pressed into his skin for minute after agonizing minute, no matter his involuntary cries and tears and pleas to stop.
But that was an exception. The desert has long dried his tears.
Besides, this is a ‘reward.’ For triumphing yet again. For surviving yet again. So the master sees it fit to briefly lavish him in luxury. At least it’s fitting for the occasion, Kakvasha thinks, the wine puddling out like blood. He waits for it to end. He’s already battered and bloody, beaten down, and he doesn’t need his neck chaffed and bleeding. Every yank of his chain evaporates energy he cannot afford to lose, cannot sacrifice or else there won’t be a bet he can emerge lucky from.
And, he admits. He’s a little (no, very) afraid of being brought to the edge between life and death again. He doesn’t want to be chained to the wall again, and have the chain around his neck pulled further and further away—
A sneer that would get him tortured spreads across his face. His face is already forced to the ground, so he’s not too worried.
“My lucky hound,” his master drawls, “stay with me. You did pretty well; it’d be a shame if I had to reevaluate you if you pass out just from this. C’mon, gimme a lil’ bark.”
He wipes his sneer and looks up with a practiced expression: defiant, but sanded down with fear; feisty, but compliant. Just enough fight to entertain, but not enough to be a nuisance. “Alive and kicking,” he grunts. It’s a strange mix of genuine and manufactured, biting back his cries of pain. It took him a bit to figure out what his master liked, but all that matters is that he got there. It’s fine, he tells himself. He doesn’t need to know how much he’s using him, too. “And savoring your gift.” He’s sure it’s the right answer, but the slight tremor indicates the awful anticipation he has for the results. If it isn’t, then everything he’s done to get here would all have been for nothing. He cannot afford to fumble his gamble now.
Luckily (ha!), it was the right answer. He’s given something his master can poke and prod at, and he’s gladly taken it. “I thought I asked you to bark,” he snarls, and the flaming wine ceases. But it’s for a reason, as he soon gets a kick to the stomach. It knocks the air out of him, but if his master were truly offended, he would’ve done much, much worse. Kakavasha coughs, just enough to suggest that he’s sorry and begging for forgiveness, but not enough to seem desperate and begging for a release and to stop stop stop— “Speaking is for humans. Honestly, I don’t even know why you Sigonian hounds were born with mouths. Universe’d be a better place if slaves like you were born with their mouths sewn shut—by the Aeons, do you disgust me!” he scratches before a smirk twists his face, “Though, ‘suppose that would mean I wouldn’t be able to hear the dogs whimper.” A shoe grinds into his stomach. He wants to see Kakavasha’s face then. “So, you gonna bark, or what?”
Kakavasha doesn’t need to act much, this time. His face falls into grim acceptance; the face he made when heat emanated from his neck; the face he made when the doors to his cell closed; the face he made when he saw the sand bury his sister’s body. Although the expression this time isn’t genuine, it’s not quite fabricated, either.
It’s fine. It’s fine. This is but one gamble. Acquiesce to his whims just enough, and then strike.
Soon, wine pools at his feet. But the wine in his master’s hand hasn’t all spilled, yet. Memories flit by in his mind: his master, flaunting his wealth in front of him.
“Humans wear clothes, accessories, and jewelry…dream all you want, but an animal can never become what it’s fated not to be.” His master’s voice echoes.
His limp and cold hand is adorned in rings. His still wrist holsters a beautiful watch and tasteful bangle. Kakvasha takes a sip of the wine. It burns, dripping down his throat. It leaves his tongue rancid and as dry as the desert.
He supposes that’s what it means to be human, then.
—
When you wake up, pain radiates throughout your neck and legs. Absently, your hand goes to your neck to relieve it but meets soft cotton. Gauze. Did he disinfect your wound (brand, that bastard branded me get him out of me I’ll—) when you passed out?
You close your eyes and try to fall back asleep but to no avail. With a moan, and then a hiss of pain, you roll over on your side. You see a note, a couple of pills, and a glass of water have been placed on your nightstand. With concentrated effort, you sit up and read the note.
Darling, dearest, love of my life, (you’d scoff if it didn’t hurt like hell to even breathe)
A painkiller. One every three hours. I suggest you take it if you want to get through the day comfortably, so please don’t spend your day staring at them in contempt like they’ve killed your dog. Contrary to what you might think, I do care for your comfort. (You feel a jolt of anger through your spine) I’ll try to be back a half hour or so earlier, but if fortune’s on my side, I’ll be back to you a full hour earlier. Wouldn’t that just be amazing? Actually, let me do a coin flip to gauge today’s fortune—oh! Look at that! Seems that it’s an hour. You won’t be lonely for long, I promise. (You frown) Business is wrapping up, so we’re leaving today, but I’ve already packed your bags. Focus on yourself, sweetheart, and get plenty of rest. And before you start overthinking things, I’m not worried at all. You won’t be forgetting anytime soon, and you’re not going anywhere. (You grit your teeth)
Use lots of ice on your neck! It helps a ton. And eat soft foods that go down easy; broth, oatmeal, the works. Now that’s what I call a good excuse to gorge on ice cream; not too much though, you *might* just throw up. And no, you can’t break the windows. Literally. I know you have your impulsive moments, but you’ve gotta be conservative with your energy today. I’ll make sure you are. If not…well, you like guessing games, right? Haha, now I really do have to go. I can’t believe you got me writing such a long letter! Alright, see you later, sweetheart.
Love, Aventurine.
You stare at the signature. Love, Aventurine sounding over and over in your mind, hitting the walls and coming back in a cracking echo. Love—a knife impales you—Aventurine—and you’re eaten alive.
Love, love, love, love, love.
You force yourself to look at the painkillers. You have no reason to believe him, but he doesn’t have any reason to lie to you. You decide not to take them.
Instead, you take a few slow sips of water, letting it coat your throat and tongue thoroughly. Then you force your sore body to the kitchen. You stumble, you trip, but you still make it to the countertop. It’s not complicated. Your mind can’t process complexity in its current state anyway.
It’s simple. You yank a knife from the block and plunge it into your chest, through your ribs, and into your heart. Blood gushes out like a waterfall, glistening like a ruby in the light of the dawn. You grin, pain wobbling your mouth, and swiftly cut open your stomach. Bile creeps up your throat as you gag violently, until you finally retch on the elongated mess of your intestines, unraveling into a bunch. You laugh hysterically when you notice that it looks like a horribly butchered plate of spaghetti—hilarious. It’s all nearly too much to bear, but there’s more work to be done. You’re still thinking; that just won’t do. You raise your knife, the tip shining in the sun and sparkling through your tears, and slam your forehead into it, finally putting an end to your existence.
That’s what should’ve happened. But the knife hasn’t taken that first plunge, yet. You will your arm to rectify the mistake. It shakes harder. And then everything from the night before rushes to your head, and ink clouds everything and everything and—
You can’t do it. Not by your own hand.
You violently throw the knife into the sink and collapse to the ground in a brutal sob.
You never attempt it again.
—
He was wrong about something. Your shattered limit would never end with his demise—it was yours.
(Is he really surprised? Or was he in denial this whole time?)
He’s not sure how to feel, that you’d rather destroy yourself than kill when backed into a corner. But he can at least understand that urge of yours to take someone else down with you; only, that person isn’t him, this time.
The wall you have built crumbles, and he wonders if you care if your destruction ends up killing another unintentionally; if that part of yourself has been killed, or if it has been twisted so you are born anew. But that’s a bit silly. You can destroy yourself, but you won’t ever lose yourself, even if you become fractured. That’s what experience has taught him, and it is both excruciatingly painful and relieving.
You’ve pinned him down. Your eyes are wide and dilated, and that spark of life within them is just nearly dimmed out; and yet, beneath that spark, something awful and alive pulsates. They hold an unabashed focus, yet they also look past him. For a rare moment, he is completely taken aback, and cannot conceal his surprise and dubious, almost hesitant delight. But he drops the hesitation. It’s fatal for him.
(His heart nearly stops. Is he pinned to the ground, or is he looking into a mirror? He almost feels like he’s been turned inside out)
“What. Were. You. Thinking?” It’s your voice, but he can’t help but think it takes on a cadence similar to his own. He can see that awful creature brandish its claws.
As much as he enjoys seeing such a creature, he cannot allow himself to be ripped apart by it. He’ll assert his control, and you’ll back off, the same as it’s always been. But he doesn’t quite mind being pinned down by you, so he’ll allow it for the moment. “You watch me gamble all the time, dearest.” He tilts his head, knowing just how much it pisses you off. “I don’t see how that’s gotten you so worked up—and you’ve been so sweet lately.”
Your jaw trembles, like a dog, he thinks, on the verge of barking and biting an intruder. Yet, a part of him also tells him that isn’t quite right. “You played Russian Roulette.” Drip, drip, sounds the blood of his challenger, but such a sound has been white noise all his life.
He smirks. “Are you jealous?” he teases, “Did you want to kill me, or were you hoping to take the bullet yourself?”
You, ever so slightly, begin to shake. “No,” you respond, without any sense of the word. “Answer my question,” you demand. He’s a little surprised because you so rarely make demands. He can see the beast grind its teeth, gnashing at the mere idea of his flesh, drooling its filth in gluttonous anticipation. But he knows you so, so, so very well. He can smell your fear—but of what? Fear that you might not be able to personally exact vengeance? He’s a little lost, for once. But he’ll know soon enough, he supposes. He continues with his usual demeanor.
“Mmm,” he hums nonchalantly, making you shake in agitation. “Well, I suppose I’m in no position to refuse. It was a good gamble with a good thrill, of course! I thought you knew this.” He knows you don’t believe that entirely, having spent so much time with him. The look in your eyes tells him it was the answer you were expecting. But you still aren’t satisfied. You still haven’t strewn his guts about the floor, to join the foolish challenger.
You do not respond, remaining as still as you can be. He decides to encourage you; you can’t just lead him on like this, you know.
“What’s wrong?” he goads. “Or have you finally come around to just how irresistible I am?”
The blood’s aroma has wafted over. Your eyes glaze impossibly further. The beast breaks its chains.
“I want to hollow out your chest,” you admit. His heart stops, and it’s only through years of practice that his face doesn’t instantly break out in shock. “And burrow into it, so I can listen to your heartbeat and feel the expanse of your lungs pressing into me with your every breath,” you shake, nearly violently, and you take each breath as if it’ll be your last. His own heart begins to beat erratically; he’s excited, he doesn’t know what’ll happen, but whatever it is he needs to have have have it— “I want to breathe in your blood, taste your heart, blood, sustain myself on nothing—” Aventurine feels a thread be pulled apart. “—on nothing but you!” You cry out, leaning in closer as you collapse to your knees and elbows, practically exchanging air. You’ve finally begun to cry, and with it, the beast has come—
No, he thinks. It’s already ripping apart his flesh. Your tears fall onto his face. His heart beats faster and faster; just as fast as when he ran away into those bloody puddles all those years ago.
“If you die…I might just join you, because…there’s really nothing else for me…” you sob, face contorting in a way he finds so breathtakingly pathetic and beautiful. For a moment, your mouth curls down, not maliciously, but with a determined promise. “If you die…I’m pulling the trigger, not some random sap in a casino.”
Oh. You…you remembered. Of course, you did. You never would forget. You couldn’t ever forget. His chest feels numb with how brutally his heart has beaten it.
He feels something cool seep into his pants and legs.
He is well acquainted with the touch of ice. How could he not? The time spent with you feels like a (fragile) eternity, and in it, he has glued himself to you; and you’ve, however unwittingly, froze him in place. Even if he’s always been able to force you into the desert with him, there are still those moments when a nigh unbearable cold seeps down into his bones, threatening to kill him, to preserve his dead body to be dusted ogled at whenever the master of the house needs to showoff their private collection to guests. But he feels it melting. He feels the cold you’ve desperately embraced crackle.
You sob a sound of euphoric despair that has him resisting his every urge to cradle you, and confess the truth; confess your want.
“I love you, Aventurine,” you take in a shuddering gasp.
His heart explodes. It is then he realizes that he, too, has gasped, and is breathing irregularly. That his composure has shattered without his realization.
“I love you…” you cough, no longer able to hold back your breakdown, the volcano of your emotions erupting in a destructive blaze that killed a part of you; the part of you that’d been holding on. Flora and flowers burn, snow becomes hellfire, and any and all life is replaced by a hungering beast desperate to keep itself satiated.
But only Aventurine can satiate it. A blush dusts his cheeks.
“I love you, I love you,” you hiccup and sob, repeating the mantra like a prayer (to a devil in velvet), I love you I love you I love you I love you.” And then you finally collapse on him, a pile of bricks and rubble and dust. You curl into his chest, over his violet heartbeat. “Don’t throw me away…don’t l-leave me…” he immediately secures your waist. It’s a disgusting implication. Why would he do that to you of all people? “I need you,” and his heart soars. A smile finally cracks his face, shattering something deep inside of him.
[No, no, Kakavasha, that’s really quite wrong. You haven’t been whole for a very, very long time.]
And then something brief surfaces in you, a small piece of useless reasoning, “and it’s your f-fault I’m like this…” That’s very true, which is why he needs to take responsibility. Which is why he has to continue keeping you, caring for you, and brutalizing you. The blood has trailed down to his back.
And then you’re back to sobbing, and practically howl, “Please, please Aventurine, tell me you love me and won’t ever let me go!” you beg, and entirely break down into a concentrated sob, distant from reality. You blabber, likely unaware, utterly lovely and incoherent words. The blood has reached his head.
His entire body shudders, rapturing him into a pile of broken flesh. He can’t hold back. He holds you tighter than before. It snaps you out of your daze, your body instinctively flinching away, but his grip doesn’t cease; it can’t cease, because if it does you two may never truly meld with one another. He sits up, positioning you so you straddle and completely rely on him for support. He looks at you. His long-lasting appetite has finally been satiated, but now a new one takes hold of his shaking form, his excitement electric and bloody.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he shudders breathlessly, just barely keeping himself from pouncing, “that was beautiful—you’re beautiful,” he pants, as his hunger grows painful, “how could I refuse such a heartfelt and adorable confession? You’re so perfect. You’re the other side of my coin…”
[Took you long enough.]
“...yes,” he groans, “I’d love to bring you down with me, and to tear you apart if I’m back in that dawnless land.” Because you aren’t leaving him, nor could you survive if he plummets back into that land. But you’re still coming with him because you need him (and so does he).
The dawn shines on the two of you, and finally, he kisses you. You’re too dazed to reciprocate, but you offer no resistance at all. But it’s a (relatively) chaste kiss, as he pulls back to whisper against your lips, wholly reverent. “I knew you were the one,” he confesses, and he sees your blush deepen, your eyes widen, “Thank you, for destroying yourself for me,” he brushes your cheek, “It’s truly an honor, sweetheart.”
You blink, eyes wide with tears, and just as he’s about to caress them away your mouth twitches—almost like you’re glitching as if the very expression was some bug in a game—and then you laugh. And it isn’t crazed, it isn’t weighed by madness, nor does it carry that familiar undertone of despair and fear he’s become so used to hearing from you—it’s warm like the dawn has cut through the rain to shine on him.
It’s that lovely laugh which the sun shines overhead and erases any shadow of doubt:
You’re insane. You’ve frozen over in hell, and have shattered yourself into pieces to melt into it.
If ‘I love you, Aventurine’ was the straw that broke the camel’s back, then your laughter is what made the camel burst and seep into searing, soulless sand.
It makes sense. Only someone destroyed and insane could love Aventurine.
(Kakavasha was dead. His hands are sticky, his chains rusty with blood and his throat burns)
[Is he? Or do you just need him to be dead? No matter how you slice it, I still see that same boy who clung to his Big Sis till the very end.]
But he’s a selfish man. If you give him your love, then he’ll gladly take it.
[Tsk, tsk. A desperate man, Kakavasha.]
But more importantly, there’s a feeling in his heart. It’s the feeling of a peaceful day beneath the scorching sun, of when he wins a game, of when he and his sister were just themselves with each other. All of it coalesces into something he hasn’t felt in—no, something he may have never truly felt until now:
Happiness.
[The closet thing you can call happiness, you mean.]
And is that feeling that has him lift you up, and spin and twirl with you in his arms. It is sheer elation, a hedonism that is so self-serving yet selfless all at once—sheer bliss—that fills him this: this is what he wants to feel. Your laughter is infectious, permeating his body and sapping it of rationality, but he does not try to fight this virus. For he is happy. The corner of his eyes crinkle; he is unused to the feeling.
He laughs and laughs with you. His clothes and shoes are tracking blood. Normally the thought of even rain getting on his clothes disgusts him, but now, all he can think about is basking in this crimson victory. The dawn shines on you both, commemorating your unholy union.
You really are perfect for him, he thinks. Because he must be insane too, when he laughs like a crazed dog—the same dogs he nearly drowned in bloodied water to get away from.
—
You both deserved a treat. He whisked you away to a room—he can deal with the casino room later, call on a few favors—because you deserve his utmost attention, as he does yours. The prospect of your complete attention, entirely unfettered, excites him.
It’s a fine room. The bed is large and soft, the bath is large and pleasant, and the view is utterly breathtaking. But neither of you cares about that. You could be rolling in sewage and shit and you’d still look at him the way he looks at you, still enter demented laughter and twisted joy, still parade under that veneer of love.
He gets his fill, as do you—but you both know neither of you will ever be sated, not when you two can’t be joined together in the ways you want to.
The dawn is rich and bright, shining on the waking and sending the begging crawling away into the shadows. You breathe softly, utterly exhausted. A complete 180 from just a few moments ago, too. Your arms wrap weakly around him, tucking yourself into him snugly. His kisses, imprinted with your blood, create a field of flowers on your face. As does his own. …He makes a note to tip room service extra for the bloodied sheets. There’s a reason he doesn’t dress (as) extravagantly for when he needs to get his hands dirty.
Perhaps after this, he’ll gift you something truly special, he thinks. His earring’s twin has just been gathering dust. And it would be quite romantic to get your ears pierced by him, too. His heart beats at the thought. He’s sure you’ll agree to it if it’s by his hand. Maybe, after this, you’ll wear his gifts of your own accord. Small things, for when you go out, a modest bracelet or watch, a tasteful necklace (of ownership). Nothing overt so as to not draw any thieving eyes, but something to signify to those that know what to look for that you aren’t to be messed with. As for when you’re inside and home…he still remembers how red your face got, and the curses you threw at him. And you’ll finally concede that his taste is actually pretty solid (but, and he will clarify just for you, it's not a sore spot in the slightest! He’s more mature than that).
He feels a bit of pride at your exhaustion (“I…erm…wanna…well, I can d-do some of the work,” you said, flustered and embarrassed by the mere admission. He found it endearing, that you could confess your desire to burrow into him and then stammer when asking him for something. You really did hate the idea of using him, didn’t you?) The remembrance of that moment makes him smile.
(He doesn’t bother dissecting what kind of smile he makes)
However, a single moment is on repeat in his mind. His hand absently drifts to the crook of his neck, weeping but a few minutes ago. Your teeth, sinking in so deeply, intimately, just on the verge of ripping a chunk of his flesh out; you were practically dining on him. It sent him over the edge.
When you pulled away and looked at him, he was again taken aback at what he saw.
Your lips, slightly parted and utterly breathless, speckled with rouge. Your cheeks were red hot with adoration. Your eyes, brimming with love and care and everything he couldn’t believe someone besides his own family could direct toward him.
(But your love is very different from his family’s. They wanted to nourish. You want to devour. But he sees nothing to criticize there—indulge, and he will gladly indulge back, until there’s nothing left of either of you)
But what truly pushes him over the edge, is the smile you give, softly stained in crimson. It is pure and untainted, angelic and sweet, soft and warm like how the dawn kisses his cheek. It is as if this love of yours was born not of a tower’s rubble but of whispered secrets and touches shared in the shadow of moonlight. It’s as if the love you show him now would’ve been what he got if he was a more selfless man (if he were any other man). You both know he does not deserve the love in your eyes—it is the last thing you owe him. Yet you give it to him anyway.
You are utterly insane. And now that he knows what insanity on you looks like,
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
But before he can shut his eyes for an hour or two of respite, there’s something he has to do. He promised many things as you both feasted, but there are two absolute ones he has to reaffirm. Two absolute ones you wanted so badly that you unleashed a frozen inferno.
“I’ll never leave you,” he promises, “And never would. I admit, it stung a bit for you to fear that from me, but…I’ll make it up to you tenfold, sweetheart. I’ll make sure you don’t feel that way ever again,” He kisses your cheek gently. He pictures your response and giggles. “Yeah, I’m being sappy, but you’re,” he boops your nose with each following word, “just~. As~. Guilty~.” You stir, groggily groaning but it’s not enough to rouse you. After a short while, you nuzzle your head further into his neck with a sleepy sigh. Something tells him that even asleep, you’ll somehow know what he’s telling you. Your lips come to rest on the gift you gave him, as if even in sleep you’d rip him apart. His heart flutters. “You’re so sweet…” he exhales with a shudder, “seriously, how do you manage it? Not that I mind, of course…” he plays with a strand of your hair. Candy and clouds and raw flesh burst on his tongue all at once, and he can’t get enough of that flavor of sickly sweet rot. He smiles, a soft and predatory thing, and his lips drift to his favorite spot.
But don’t get him wrong—every part of you is lovely and he would kill to vivisect you if only it didn’t mean killing you and putting you in extreme pain. It’s those two latter thoughts that quell his desire to do so.
(Maybe he would enjoy it, but only for a moment, only for so as long as the euphoria and awe of seeing all of you lasts. If you did die—especially with cries and shrieks of pain—he would sob, curling around your body���and then he would take you with him, so when he goes to that place, you’d be with him on that very first step)
It’s where he first bit you on the luckiest day of his life. It’s bruised and tender, red and ugly and scarred. Renewed countless times, it is beyond repair. Moments ago it held a crimson sheen, but its been smeared throughout your collarbone and shoulder. The way it smears makes it appear like a red mist, like a curling wisp of smoke that dirties clouds and infects rainwater. He brings you impossibly closer, to keep you from becoming red mist. At the same time, should he squeeze just a bit too hard, then away you go into the mist.
(As if to keep you far, far, far away from the rainwater which had swirled with a thick, red mist—to keep you from breathing in it, from having to hide so you didn’t become like the cold bodies which floated beside you)
His lips seemingly slot in with the spot perfectly. It only makes sense. It was today where you’ve melded yourself to him.
(And he’s melded himself to you for a long time. Against his better judgment and sense, he melded himself to you; at the time it was only the idea of you, but it didn’t take long for it to be you.
He sighs in content, but he still has another promise to make.
“We’ll be together, you and I. Two sides of a single coin can face away from each other, but they can’t exist separate from each other. You’re pretty smart, so I’m sure you get it,” yes, he has plenty of faith in you, sweet thing, but he can’t help but ramble, “and it’s because I love you, (Name).” He says it so tenderly, your name, and unexpectedly (or very expectedly) something he thought he’d never feel ever again invades his chest, and it forces itself out, “I love you, I love you,” he thinks his grip has tightened and that his heart has started to race and that he’s shaking but he doesn’t care about that right now and he doesn’t care if he has been losing composure without his notice. “I love you I love you I love you. You have no idea just how much I want to devour you, just how much I want you tethered to me. How much I need you to be unable to live without me. If I’m alive, you’re alive. If I’m dead…you said it yourself. You’ll follow me. It just needs to be by my hand, and you’ll follow me. You won’t have to worry about being alone, being without me. And it’s all because…
I love you.”
He dimly realizes that something salty has trailed to his lips. Are you awake? Or are you having a nightmare? Either way, he moves like he has so many other times, to remind you that he’d be there, even at your most vulnerable. He goes up to kiss your eyes and lick your cheek, but nothing’s there.
Something flutters against his cheek. You’re awake, and he feels something warm and wet travel on his cheek. He’s not sure what he feels, when he looks up to you.
(What does his face look like?)
You blink, eyes bleary with sleep and weighted with content. But tinged with the sleep and contentment, there’s another thing, which makes everything within him burn. Which makes him shake and his heart nearly explodes.
Dimly, he realizes that your destruction didn’t just kill a part of you. He’s buried beneath the fire and rubble, too.
[And it’s lovely.]
And then (at that moment), for some reason (for all the reasons), he buries his head in your chest (into your heart),
To sob in the sunlight, soothed by the hands that unraveled him.
#yandere#yandere hsr#yandere aventurine#destroyed onset#aventurine x reader#yandere aventurine x reader#yandere x you#yandere hsr x reader#tw noncon#tw suicide#next fic is gonna be sitcom esque#the calm before the storm 😉#and also because i need to write the reader being happy in a#not fucked up way LMFAO
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Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 8
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, voyerism, coercive sex, manipulation, Pocket reaching her Ultimate Bitch Form.
Word Count: 1.5k
Previously On...: Carthage has been spying on you and manipulating both you and Bucky from Day One.
A/N: THE FIRST TIME DIDN'T COUNT, GUYS!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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“She was just toying with you, Jamie, because she could. She doesn’t respect you. Do you honestly think she would pick you over Steve Rogers? Captain Fucking America? Especially with all the pain you’ve caused? The lives you’ve ended? Come on, Jamie, don’t be dumb.” Video Jade caressed Bucky’s shoulders.
Bucky’s face fell, and you knew she’d hit him where it hurt him the most.
Jade sat back on her haunches on the mattress. “Don’t be stupid, Jamie,” she reiterated. “Do you really think she’d want someone like you, who can’t even control their cock in a fight, when she could have America’s Golden Dick? I bet they laugh at you, how easy it is for them to get away with it, right under your nose. You think it’s just a coincidence that, as soon as you're out of the country, she’s seen by all of New York’s elite getting cozy with your best friend? The one person you asked her to stay away from? She was just waiting for you to get out of the picture so she can show her real boyfriend off to the public.”
You watched as Bucky’s entire body clenched, his face tightening in anger. “You said you wanted to get back at her,” Jade urged, putting her hands back on Bucky’s body. “To punish her for what she did. So punish her, Jamie. Use me. Use me to make her hurt the way she made you hurt. Don’t let her play you for a fool.” You saw Bucky struggle, at war with himself, but you could see the anger pulse through him, and you knew that, with this snake whispering in his ear, there was no way he could have come to any other conclusion than that you had betrayed him. You almost felt sorry for him– he didn’t have a chance.
“Come on,” she said, leaning Bucky back so he was lying propped up on the pillows. “You won’t even need to do anything. Let me take care of you, okay? Let Vixen make you feel good.” Bucky scrunched his eyes closed, putting his hands over his face. It was painfully clear he wasn’t an enthusiastic participant, but it still hurt knowing that he had been so angry at you for something you hadn’t done that he was willing to do this.
“We just have to get Little Jamie to come out to play,” Jade teased as she straddled him. Your view was obstructed by her body, but you had no doubt that she was jerking him off in an attempt to get him hard.
It just… seemed to be taking a really long time.
“Come on Jamie,” Jade said after a few minutes. “You gotta help me out here. Give me a little something to work with.”
It seemed to finally work after a while, and Jade re-positioned herself as she lined Bucky up with her entrance. You couldn’t watch anymore, so you shut your eyes. It didn’t stop you from hearing the horrible sounds of her moaning as she bounced up and down on his cock, though.
You thought you were going to be sick, but then you heard it, so soft that if you had your eyes open, your senses diluted, you would have missed it.
“Pocket,” Bucky moaned. “Fuck, Pocket. Keep going, baby. I’m so sorry, doll. I’m so sorry. I love you so fucking much.”
His moans grew louder. “Pocket,” he cried, “God, baby, I miss you so fucking much!”
You started laughing. It was the fucking weirdest, most uncomfortable position you’d ever found yourself in in your entire life, but you couldn’t help yourself.
“Oh my god,” you panted, trying to catch your breath as Jade looked down on you in confusion. “That’s the most pathetic thing I have ever seen!”
Jade wrapped a hand roughly around your throat and squeezed threateningly, cutting off your laughter. “What did you say?” she seethed.
You coughed when she’d released your neck and you could breathe again. A few drops of your blood had fallen from your nose to rest on Jade’s wrist. “I said, that’s the most pathetic thing I’ve ever fucking seen.” You jutted your chin toward the phone she still held. “You think that’s proof that he wants you? Oh, honey. You truly are a stupid cunt, aren’t you? He couldn’t even get hard for you without thinking about me. You were a convenient fleshlight– just a hole when I wasn’t available.”
You would have felt monstrous speaking to any other woman like that, truly, but you had to do everything in your power to keep her distracted, to keep her from moving forward with her plan to auction you off to the highest bidder, so that you could buy some time for the calvary to arrive. And besides, Carthage wasn’t just another woman– she was your fucking nemesis, and she deserved every foul word you could throw at her.
God, you hoped Tony showed up first. The image of him sending Jade through the wall with a repulsor blast was enough to send you into fits of giddy laughter. Then maybe Bruce could toss her around like a ragdoll, the way he had with Loki. You’d pay to see that. You wondered if Carthage had headbutted you hard enough to cause a concussion– you certainly weren’t feeling fully in your right mind.
Jade backhanded you, the force of the blow so hard that your head snapped to the side, leaving you seeing stars. “You’re LYING!” she shouted. Grabbing you by the hair, she hoisted you up, metal chair and all, and slammed your face into the nearest wall. Perhaps she’d rattled a screw loose, because you couldn’t seem to get your laughter under control.
“Don’t damage the merchandise, Vixey,” you coughed, spitting out even more blood. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my chances at auction, would you? Bad for business.”
“You fucking bitch!” Jade shouted. She ripped your bindings free from the chair and lifted you up by the throat. “Fuck–” she punched you in the stomach– “the auction!” In the face. “I’m gonna–” In the solar plexus– “fucking kill you–” back to the face– “myself!” Each blow was excruciating, and you were sure you’d heard a rib or two crack under the force of her fist, but still, you kept laughing at her.
“Poor little fox,” you wheezed through the blood that was pouring down the back of your throat. “All those years wasted, thinking you could ever have a chance with him.” Your head lolled to the side as you tried to look up at her through your rapidly swelling eyelids. “Thinking you were special, that you were made for him, and you can’t even get his dick up. He’s so repulsed by you, he has to imagine being with someone else!”
“Shut up!” Jade screeched. “Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!” She grabbed your left arm in her hands and snapped it. The pain was blinding, sending your vision into a white hot pulses. You screamed, holding the broken appendage to your body, as though that would protect you. You didn’t dare look down at it; knowing you’d be sick at the sight if you did, of your arm dangling uselessly at an unnatural angle. Instead, you curled yourself up into the fetal position, cradling your arm close to your core.
Jade began pacing the room, tugging at her hair and mumbling to herself. You couldn’t quite make out what she was saying– you only caught snippets of words, like “fucking whore,” and “mine.” The girl had completely lost it, had completely gone off the deep end. Meanwhile, you suspected you were going into shock as you listened to the rat-a-tat-tat of your rapid heartbeat.
No. You cocked your head, listening. That wasn’t the sound of your heart, beating out of your chest– that was the sound of gunfire echoing through the bowels of the base. You strained your ears. Mixed within the gunshots, you could hear screaming, voices crying out in agony and then cut short, as if their owners suddenly lost access to their breath.
Through the distant din, you could make out a familiar voice, roaring with rage, and the sound filled your heart up like a balloon.
“POCKET!”
You started laughing again.
Jade turned to look at you, her expression furious.
“I feel sorry for you, Vixen,” you said, grinning like a madwoman.
“Me?” she asked you incredulously. “I just snapped your arm like a fucking twig and am going to enjoy the shit out of killing you nice and slowly, and you feel sorry for me?”
You nodded vigorously, gleefully noting that the sound of battle was growing closer. Bucky called for you again, his voice contorted with rage and worry. Jade turned her head toward the sound, noticing it for the first time.
“Yup,” you agreed, forcing yourself to stand and face her. You could feel the blood dripping from the corners of your mouth as you smiled from ear to ear. “Seems like my boyfriend’s looking for me, and when he sees what you’ve done, he’s going to kick your fucking ass.”
<- Previous Part / Next Chapter ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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Yanderr mafia boss x male reader prisoner, You are a rival of the mafia boss and your group was defeated by his group, thus becoming his prisoner.
Little did you know, he had lust for you and he decides that you will succumb to his desires whether you want to or not.
A new mafia boss coming right up! But no more new mafia bosses after this, guys. I know they're hot, but my masterlist will suffer also, changing it to leader to avoid confusion hope that's okay
Yandere Mafia Leader x Prisoner Reader
M yan x M reader
TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, noncon
How long has it been? For how many days have you been held captive here? You couldn't keep track. There weren't any windows or other ways to tell time in your damp cell.
You had to wonder if your comrades were doing alright. You weren't too close to most of them, but you were still worried. You hoped whatever they were going through wasn't much worse than what you were.
The leader of this mafia kept a constant watch on you. There was a single camera in your cell, which really wasn't strange, but you could often hear him right outside your door. He'd often come in and watch you "sleeping".
That was one of the more difficult things to do here; fall asleep. You really didn't struggle this much usually, but between the environment and the whole being watched thing, it wasn't easy.
You hoped you might finally get some rest tonight. Or...whatever time of day it was when you closed your eyes.
Your dreams almost came true...until they were crushed by the fact that you felt something choking you. You opened your eyes, taking only a few seconds to realize what was happening.
The leader was in here again, fucking your mouth! You tried to pull away, but he only gripped your hair and forced himself deeper down your throat.
He groaned as you gagged around his dick. It was almost enough to make him cum.
Oh who was he kidding? He didn't want to hold back. Not this time. With a few more thrusts, his seed was flowing down your throat.
He took both of your wrists in his hand as he pulled out, holding them tightly above your head. His free hand mover to roughly spread your legs apart.
"You're my new fuck toy, got that?" Without warning or preparation, he plunged into your ass with a pleasured groan. "I'll stop torturing you, long as you please me."
You didn't have a choice.
He was fucking you anyway, no care for how rough he was being. In fact, he seemed to like seeing you slightly in pain.
You couldn't get away, his grip on you was too tight. He smirked as you struggled, even though it was useless.
"Stop struggling so much or I'll just have to kill you, and fucking a corpse doesn't sound nearly as appealing."
He leaned down and started biting your neck, licking the blood clean as he did. He made sure the marks would be visible. You were his, everyone should know.
Despite knowing you shouldn't enjoy this, you couldn't stop the moans you made. You couldn't stop your cock from growing hard, twitching as it came closer to climax.
Finally, he slowed down, making you whine pathetically. "You want to cum? Think you deserve it? You just have to tell me you'll be mine. That your body belongs to me." He growled in your ear.
You couldn't! You refused, shaking your head.
"If you say so." He chuckled, pounding into you harder than before. Only to stop right as you were on the edge again.
And that became a cycle. He fucked you hard and stopped over and over until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. And of course, he couldn't be fair. While he denied you the right to cum over and over, he repeatedly filled your asshole with his seed. Over and over again until your insides were painted fully white.
All until you begged him for release. Saying anything for him to let you cum. Even that you and your body belonged to him.
"There's a good boy..." His hands released your now bruised legs and wrists, one moving to your nipple as the other made its way to your ass. In one swift motion, he pulled out and replaced his cock with his fingers. They curled in you, hitting all the right spots.
As his hands worked wonders on you, he took your cock unto his mouth and sucked you off. Pathetic as it was, it didn't take very long before you came. He moaned, the sound vibrating around your cock as he swallowed your cum.
"There we go. Not so difficult, right? And you get to cum like that whenever I want for the rest of your life~"
I think that one was pretty decent! or at least, I really hope so
#blarsh writes#yandere#yandere x reader#x reader#male yandere#male x reader#anon ask#yandere x you#yandere x darling#yandere x male darling#x male reader#male reader#male x male#male yandere x you#male yandere x male reader#male yandere x reader#male y/n#yandere mafia boss#mafia boss yandere#mafia yandere#yandere mafia
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john price is a man incredibly high up in the chain of command of your company. he does a little walking tour of the buildings during crew appreciation weeks. helps humble down his image and he gets to have some meaningful conversations. sometimes even gets to meet particularly wonderful people.
he spots you, the sole person whose eyes are glued to their computer screen, in a sea of employees who are gawking at him. can hear the steady typing from your mechanical keyboard, your eyes flittering across the screen. he pauses a little too long, prompting laswell to repeat herself to the group before they move along.
but he makes sure not to be too far away, keeping you in his peripheral. notices how you don't even bother to spare a look in his direction. even when talking to team members that would place john directly in your sight, your eyes only focus on them. not him.
you were damn good at your job. the color-coded whiteboard behind you, filled with deadlines and application information, confirms it. funny too, if the little bouts of laughter that escape your team's cluster are anything to go by. he wonders what pitch your voice carries, just out of reach for it to bless his ears. wonders what it'd take for you to look and grant him a smile.
he doesn't have to wait long. your mouth splits into a bright smile and for a second john wonders if you're glowing. but the smile's not for him. it's directed at a coworker, who, for john's sake, is anything but quiet. he can hear just how thick he lays the praise for a job well done.
john watches the transformation that takes place as his words land. your soft easy-going smile widening, pushing your cheeks further up. you immediately perk up, back straightening, shoulders pushed back, and leaning forward in the direction of your coworker.
oh. oh.
john can feel something warm beginning to pool at the bottom of his stomach. he cracks a knuckle before shoving his fists into his pockets, lest he does something that lands him in HR.
he'll keep this tidbit with him for the next time he sees you. just so he can let you know how much of a good job you're doing.
maybe even get a reward.
a/n: silly little idea that came to my head while I was at work of course :') still trying to get out of my head when im writing but we're making progress
#.txt#.cod#.price#.mine#this was literally an experience i had#not hot boss man but our department head came around to say thanks for all we do and it was so fucking awkward#i was trying my best to smile and look friendly but we were both super awkward LMAO#at least she remembers me ig#captain john price x you#captain john price x reader#captain john price#captain price#john price x reader#john price#price cod#price x reader
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