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archiveikemen · 5 months

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Jude Jazza 1st Birthday Campaign: Story (2023)

His POV

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Ellis: Jude, this is…

I had just returned to the castle after work when my assistant handed me a memo with an usually serious look on his face.

“Happy birthday, I have your woman with me.”

Jude: — Ah?

…

— A few hours ago.

Kate: Is it your birthday today?

Kate asked the moment she saw my face. Who knows where she got that information from.

(What a nuisance.)

Knowing what was going to happen, I ignored the question and left my seat.

I had just finished my breakfast, and it was time for me to leave for work.

Kate: I just happened to find out earlier on. Is there anything in particular that you need or want?

Jude: I don’t know, you can go ahead and sing a song or something. Oh, but do it when I’m not around.

Kate: Won’t that be meaningless?

Jude: Do I have to spell it out for you? I don’t need anything.

Kate had become significantly less wary of me, compared to when we first met. I dealt with her and put on my coat.

Kate: Are you going to work? It’s your birthday, after all.

Jude: Will it kill you to not keep asking questions day and night?

Victor: Oh? You’re working on your birthday again this year, Jude?

Victor: Make sure to come back in the evening this year. We’ll be waiting to throw a party for you.

Jude: More like a party for you. Last year and the year before, you threw a party even though I wasn't there.

Victor: Every year, I would wait for you to come back, until the day ended… *sniffle*

Roger: Let’s all get drunk and sing a loud “happy birthday” song in the garden.

Jude: Oi. Don’t put your arm over my shoulder, you quack.

Roger: I hope that this year’s party won’t be missing its main character.

(Tch… all the fucking annoying ones are gathered here since morning.)

Jude: I don’t have the culture of celebrating every little occasion. It’s sickening.

I brushed his arm off my shoulders and was about to finally leave the dining room.

Kate: Oh, Jude, is there anything you want…?

(Did I not say that I don’t need anything?)

Kate: I’ll really sing you a song later! Please don’t complain that it’s too ‘insignificant’!

Walking away from that persistent voice that carried a hint of resignation, I left the castle that morning.

…

(So this is the place.)

Instead of begging for their lives to be spared, those bastards who sent me that memo spat out all the information they had.

True enough, there Kate was— dolled up and lying unconscious at the altar, she appeared to have gotten herself ready for tonight’s ‘party’.

(... There’s this revolting feeling in my chest.)

The people who had taken Kate hostage seemed to have something against me.

It was either they were blaming me for their business going bankrupt, or it was just the usual petty grudges.

Kate only got implicated into this because of mine or Crown’s missions. It wasn’t the first time such a thing happened.

And yet, for some reason, I felt especially irritated this time.

(Crown forced a contract onto a woman who was coincidentally present at the scene of an assassination.)

(The Queen insisted that this woman go on our missions with us, despite knowing what dangerous situations she could possibly wind up in.)

(Even after having her life threatened on countless occasions, this woman still refuses to back down.)

(I myself have tested the sheer willpower and guts she had to keep following me around.)

— All of that disgusted me.

(Where’s the ‘happy’ in ‘happy birthday’?)

(Shit.)

Jude: … Oi, you pleb. Are you dead?

I spoke as I stood there, staring down at Kate.

With a groan, Kate stirred and turned to lay on her back.

The hair covering her face spilled onto the floor — revealing her swollen cheek and bloodied lips.

(...)

Something in the core of my mind turned cold.

Kate: … Jude…?

Jude: … What with that hideous appearance? This isn’t funny at all.

Kate: I’m… I’m sorry. I wanted to get you a birthday present, and when I went out to town after seeking permission…

Jude: Screw your apology and how you got captured. I’m asking how you got your face injured.

Kate: They threatened me for information about you, and when I refused to disclose any—

Jude: You could’ve just made some shit up about me.

Kate: I… I can’t do that. You’re always coming to my rescue before I get hurt. I can’t put you in danger because of me.

The response that was so typical of her only made me even more fed up.

(Ah… this woman is hopeless.)

(If I let her keep this up, she will really end up dead one day.)

In the first place, she was only in danger because of the selfish contract Crown forced onto her.

While I had the right to give Kate a piece of my mind, there wasn’t a need for her to feel any obligation towards me.

(I failed to see that.)

She was thick-skinned enough to still spout those pretty words at me, had a strong heart that became enraged upon being looked down on, and was stubborn enough to stand her ground even after being hurt.

I was self-aware that I didn’t hate those traits of hers.

(But… no one can laugh when their birthday present is the dead body of a woman who was innocently dragged into a mess she didn’t create, even as a prank.)

Jude: You seem to have quite a lot of trust in me, however—

Kate: … ggh?

Kate’s body stiffened when I placed my hand on her neck.

Jude: Do you seriously believe that I won’t ever let anyone kill you, or that I’ll always protect you no matter what?

Kate: ugh… haa…

(Oh, you poor thing.)

(You think that you can finally be at ease after being so terrified just now, huh?)

(But you’re wrong. Shall I teach you a little lesson?)

Jude: You haven’t experienced being strangled to the point of losing consciousness, have you?

Jude: I can make that happen, all I have to do is tighten my grip on your throat for about one minute.

I slowly tightened my grip, putting pressure on her pulsating carotid artery.

Kate: ahh… ugh…!

I pinned her struggling body to the floor of the altar.

Light shined in through the stained glass windows onto her hair and skin, making the scene look almost comical.

Jude: You never expected yourself to be strangled by the ally who just rescued you, did you?

Jude: But killing an ally who’s being an eyesore in the heat of the moment is so cliché.

Jude: You’re just a pleb who knows nothing, and yet you tried to go against those low-lifes with that stupid sense of duty of yours.

Jude: You’re a hundred years too early to do that.

Kate: —!

I felt a slight pain in the back of my hand and looked down to see Kate digging her nails into it.

Jude: Hah, look at you trying to fight back. You make me laugh. Even a little kitten can be stronger than you.

Kate: …!

(... What’s with that look?)

Despite the clear difference in strength between the two of us, the resilient look in her eyes never faded.

She was glaring straight at me, as if urging me for something.

Jude: … At this juncture, what is it that you want to say?

I couldn’t help but wonder what kind of things she would say—

The moment I loosened my grip, Kate forcefully shook my hand off.

Kate: Huff… huff…

Jude: … I’m not asking you to start huffing and puffing. I’m asking what you were glaring at me for.

Jude: I’ll go on if you can’t answer.

Kate: I… I…

Kate glared at me with tears in her eyes while desperately trying to catch her breath.

Kate: I’ve experienced horrible things like today’s incident many times, I’ve also witnessed multiple cruel acts; and every time, I would see you enjoying yourself…

Kate: I know very well that you’re a sadist with sick and twisted interests, a villain who finds joy in hearing the screams of other people.

Jude: You don’t say?

Kate: But I believe that deep down, you’re not heartless…

Kate: You may threaten and torment me like this often, and yet when you see that I’m about to die, you do whatever you can to save me.

Jude: You fantasise about me too much.

Kate: Then why do you always look upset whenever I go on missions with you?

Jude: Because you get in my way.

Kate: What are you trying to accomplish by ridiculing me for being soft-hearted?

Jude: That you're so happy-go-lucky that it's an eyesore and a hindrance.

Kate: ... Really?

Despite my harsh words, her eyes remained focused on me.

Kate: ... You show no mercy to people who are arrogant and take human lives lightly.

Kate: ... But looking at it from a different perspective, you save those who have been tyrannised by them.

Jude: The main point is that I enjoy tormenting those bastards. I couldn't care less about who gets saved.

Kate: Whatever your reason may be, doesn't the result remain the same? And that's why I trust you.

Jude: ... Hah, what are you talking about? Sounds stupid as hell.

Kate: But at the same time, I also get that you're not helping me because I value my life.

Kate: That's why, like what you said earlier…

Kate: I don't think that you'll 'always protect me no matter what'.

Her voice trembled with a tinge of loneliness for a moment.

Even Kate herself seemed to be surprised by what she just said and her eyes shifted.

She lifted her head, trying to cover it up.

Kate: What I want to say is that...

Kate: Even if I'll end up being strangled until I lose consciousness, it won't change the way I choose to act.

Kate: If I do get myself captured and threatened again, I won't say a single thing that would put you at a disadvantage.

Kate: That's all I have to say. If you want to go on with what you were doing... be my guest, do as you please.

(A person's life can be so fragile.)

(Trust is useless when you're faced with evil and murderous intentions.)

Some things can't be prevented, no matter how hard you try.

(That fact is more than clear to me.)

But even so, why was I dazzled by her unwavering determination to keep her trust?

Jude: ... I can do as I please?

Kate: ...!

Her shoulders shuddered when I placed my hand on her neck—

Jude: Pfft.

Kate: ...?

(Putting on a brave front when you're actually feeling afraid. Truly idiotic.)

I withdrew my hand from her neck.

Jude: Just as you said, that was a threat.

Jude: However... it's not hard to snap your neck off. Besides, the kind of people I deal with won't be so kind as to hesitate and warn you.

Jude: If you're aware that I'm keeping you at a distance on purpose, then you should know what to do if you're smart enough.

Kate: I thought of avoiding getting myself involved, but…

Jude: But?

Kate: That thinking changed after I noticed various things every time we complete a mission or run away from trouble together.

Kate: And I don't hate that change in myself.

(...)

Kate: Although being captured this time was entirely unintentional... look, I managed to snatch the identification document of the person who captured me.

Kate: If it was you they were after, then they must belong to some sort of organisation, right?

Kate: The ones who captured me were likely someone's subordinates... so perhaps this might serve as a lead to the mastermind behind this.

(... Geez.)

(This girl is truly a bold princess.)

Jude: Don't get too proud of yourself over such a tiny thing. You're like a dog playing fetch.

I took the ID and helped Kate up.

She then exclaimed, as if she suddenly recalled something.

Kate: Oh, right! There's something very important that I forgot to tell you.

Jude: Ah?

Kate: The day isn't over yet, right...?

Kate: Although I didn't manage to get you a present in the end... happy birthday, Jude.

Jude: …

The innocent and pure blessing fell onto my heart with a thud.

(You went through all that, and yet you can still bring yourself to say something so optimistic.)

(Aren't you going to say things like it's all your fault, or that you're no longer in the mood to celebrate?)

All sorts of insults came into my mind, but none of them came out of my mouth.

Nevertheless, the blessing remained warm in my heart, the same way she gave it to me.

Kate: A birthday song is all I can give you... but you don't need that.

Jude: ...

I detested the 'happy birthday' song.

It brought back memories of a dusty attic that reeked of mould and alcohol; I recalled the hoarse voices of 2 people who kept singing while coughing violently, disregarding my protests.

7 years had passed since then, my vengeance should've been long gone.

Yet every time I recalled that raspy voice singing the 'happy birthday' song, the hatred ingrained in me craved to hear the screams of its prey.

But, right now—

Jude: Fine, you can sing. I'm listening.

Kate: Eh? But... you said that you don't have the culture of celebrating every small occasion.

Jude: I changed my mind. I still don't care about the others, though.

Jude: Just yours is enough.

Kate: ... Huh?

Kate's eyes widened for a moment before her cheeks turned bright red.

Kate: H-Huh...?

Jude: ... Heh, what are you blushing about? You simple minded woman.

Kate: Wha... d-did you just tease me again!?

Jude: Who knows? It's obvious that you're very fond of me, though.

Kate: WHAT!? I am not...!

Jude: Yeah, yeah. So, are you going to sing or not?

Kate: ...!!

After being at a loss for words for a brief moment, Kate started to sing.

Her voice was too soft to echo through the church, but it lingered in my ears longer than any other blessing I had ever received.

Birthday Letter

#ikemen villains #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #otome #cybird otome #ikevil birthday #jude jazza

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sunflower-lilac42 · 5 months

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✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | matt sturniolo ♔

summary: y/n was always supportive of her brother, but when he introduces her to his new girlfriend, things go down hill and take turn for the worst

warnings: fights, sibling fights, crappy girlfriend, unhealthy relationships, cheating, my worst writing ever

notes: don't come at me if the pictures are wrong, i'm kinda tired and just picked the first three that popped up on pinterest

celebrities masterlist | main masterlist

It wasn’t often that Matt brought home someone. It wasn’t often that he and his sister fought. All things had to change at one point.

The day had already started on a sour note, Matt surprised his family by saying he had a girlfriend and then surprised them by saying that he wanted them to meet her, tonight. Y/n wasn’t mad, per say, but it definitely would have been nice to know so she could have mentally prepared herself for this.

She wasn’t an overprotective sister, if anything being the younger sister of three brothers, triplets nonetheless, she was the one who was being overprotected. Yet, she learned a few things from them. Know who to trust, what to trust them with, and when to trust them. They taught her about bad boyfriends and girlfriends, that she shouldn’t have to do something she didn’t want - except, school of course, and chores, and hygiene, but she knew what they meant.

So, whenever they brought home someone, she analyzed them for the things they said were red flags. Bad hygiene, subtle possessiveness, not letting them do something, being wary of how they talked when they were around, etc. That was why when Chelsea arrived at their house her eyes were fixed on her and why she had a bad feeling settle at the bottom of her stomach.

Chelsea was nice but that was the problem. The little things that y/n had noticed said that she shouldn't trust her, so why was she acting like this? She was very polite towards their parents, got along with Nick and Chris, tried to get along with her, helped out with dinner and cleaning the plates afterward, was smart, pretty, and had good manners. The was just something off.

When Matt walked Chelsea to her car, y/n went back to her room, Chris and Nick following behind her.

“You don’t like her.” It was more of a statement than a question coming from Nick’s mouth. She turned around and plopped onto her be as she nodded her head, “I mean she was nice don’t get me wrong, but my gut is telling me that there’s something wrong.”

Chris agreed with his sister’s statement and Nick looked between the two, “Listen, I know we always tell you to trust your gut, especially about someone that you're in a relationship with but Matt is happy, so it’d be nice if you two didn't fuck this up for him. Please.”

“What the fuck was that, y/n?”

“Language, Matthew!”

“What was what?”

“It would’ve been nice if you tried to talk to Chelsea. She was trying hard to get along with you and you just blatantly ignored her.”

“I didn’t know you knew such a big word, Matt.”

“Oh shut up, will you?”

“Would you two stop fighting?” Their mom peered her head into the room and gave them a look.

“How come when they don’t like my boyfriend that it’s okay for them to act like this but when I don’t like someone they bring home I’m not allowed to say a fucking word? Sorry for my language but seriously, Mom.”

She shook her head and walked away, giving up on her children’s fighting, knowing that they wouldn't stop until someone won.

“That’s not even the same thing. You bring home crappy guys that aren’t good for you and we bring home decent people.”

“That’s why all of your relationships have failed.”

“It’s not like yours have been the most successful either, y/n.”

That hurt. He knew she was insecure about relationships, about nobody wanting her because everyone cared about them instead and that’s all they wanted to talk about.

“Using my own insecurity against me, nice one, Matt. Get out! All of you!”

Matt stumbled, his face softening, “Y/n/n, I didn’t mean that.”

“The fuck you didn’t.”

“What did we do?” Chris asked from her bed, looking at the other three in confusion.

“Nothing. That’s the problem, not even trying to fucking defend me.”

“What did you want us to do, y/n?”

“I’m so over this! Get out! And if Chelsea turns out to be bitch and breaks up with you, I won’t be surprised.”

“That’s a tad far.” Nick tried to settle the two down, but Chris had left completely unbothered by the events.

“And him saying what he said wasn’t?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It’s what you implied. Now, get out!”

The two boys left, not without Matt slamming the door behind him. Y/n let the tears fall down her face as she fell onto her bed. She hated fighting with one of them, but practically all three? It felt like she was being ganged up on, and she couldn’t blame them.

✧༺✎༻∞

Over the course of the next two weeks, y/n hadn’t talked to any of her brothers, and vice versa. She wanted to so badly, but what would she even say?

She was sitting in the living room watching ‘The Great British Bake-Off” when Matt came tumbling through the door, kicking his shoes off, and running to his room. Y/n sat up in confusion and watched the boy, getting up to follow him.

She knocked on his door, “Go away!”

She opened the door anyway and walked to Matt’s bed where he lay, face buried into the pillow and facing the wall. She sighed and sat on the bed, placing a hand on his shoulder, “What’s wrong, Matty?”

“Like you care.”

“Of course, I care. I’m your sister. Just because I haven’t been the best one lately and I haven’t talked to you, doesn’t mean I don’t care.”

Matt turned around and laid his head in her lap, y/n’s hands instinctively going towards his head to swipe through his hair, “She cheated on me and then blamed me for it.”

“What a bitch.”

‘I guess you were right, huh? I should’ve listened to you.”

“Matt, this wasn’t about me being right. It was about protecting you, hell I wish I wasn’t right. I just wanted you to be happy and I knew that didn't include her. I guess we both have a funny way of protecting each other.” Matt nodded and apologized.

She waved it off and sat back, turning on his favorite movie on his laptop. She kept reassuring him throughout the movie that it wasn’t his fault and about halfway through the film, Chris and Nick came barreling in to sit with them.

They both said their sorry’s but they fell deaf upon Matt’s ears as he had fallen asleep in his sister’s lap.

#sunny lune writes #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x platonic!reader #matt sturniolo x sister!reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets

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ohtobemare · 1 year

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HAPPY HUNDRED !! 🥳 so well deserved bae

for your lil celebration i’d like to request Bradley & prompt #4 in the fluff section,, “it's hard to sit here and be close to you and not kiss you."

I kinda love this one, not gonna lie, dev! Here's your cute and fluffy Rooster. Much love, babe!

Rack 'Em

“You think you’re pretty slick, dontcha?”

Your words lift barely above the pounding AC/DC chorus rattling the windows of the Hard Deck, but somehow they manage to drive a knife straight through his chest.

Your slow, precise smile stabs him between the ribs, kicking his heart rate up to a nearly unforgivable pace. At this rate, Rooster is fairly confident he’ll have no ribs left as sparkling eyes seem to track every one of his movements.

It’s already hot in this damn bar, with all the bodies and the chatter and the noise of Saturday night. He’d been sweating through the Hawaiian shirt since he got here, meeting up with Nat and the guys for drinks after a long ass day on base—weekends were just as unforgiving as weekdays around Fightertown.

Getting his ass handed to him at darts, listening to Fanboy and Omaha talk smack about what little game they actually possessed had only pissed him off more, not aiding in the we-could-stop-sweating-anytime hope.

But, any hopes he’d had about a couple of beers chasing the heat out of his blood evaporated when he saw you walk through the door, girlfriends in tow, looking dangerous in too-tight jeans, a white tank, and flip flops. Hair pulled up off your shoulders, you’d opted for contacts and light makeup tonight, though the shitty lights in this place put a glow on your face that he couldn’t stop thinking about. The black bra was intentional, probably—the white tank offered no kind of coverage in any certain terms.

You were electric, he couldn’t stop tracking you to the bar. Something hot and tight pooled at the base of his gut before rocketing up his spine, sounding off in a tight bundle of nerves in the back of his neck, reminding him that he’s running on five hours of sleep for a reason.

On probation for other reasons—like sneaking on barracks after curfew, being a cocky son of a bitch at the stick, mouthing off to the one person on the planet he should actually be minding. Watching you swing on a barstool with exaggerated movements, legs purposefully still wide, makes him salivate.

His tongue is tracing the 'stache over his top lip, beer midway to his lips when you laugh, the column of your throat so there.

He hasn’t stopped himself from eye-fucking you when Bob nudges him in the ribcage. “Rooster? You here, man?” Floyd is snapping his fingers in front of Bradley’s face now, his huge fingers making quite the noise in front of his eyes as his hand claps solidly on Bradley’s shoulder, “Jeez, man—what’s up with you?”

“Yeah, fuck, Rooster—you’ve been zoned out for like, five minutes.”

Snapping out of the sex-induced trance the film reel of his brain is looping, he takes half a step back on his heel before turning to face Bob and Fanboy, who are looking at him with furrowed brows of concern. Or, rather, Bob looks concerned—Fanboy appears amused, spinning a dart between his index finger and thumb as his jaw sets into a smirk.

Bradley can feel the flush on his cheeks when he lifts a hand to rake his fingers through his hair. “I’m fine,” he mutters, taking a pull on the beer. It’s cold, frothy, and the condensation from the bottle feels great on his upper lip as he smooths his fingers over his mustache, as if to remind himself to chill the fuck out, “Who's fuckin’ turn is it?”

“Yours,” Fanboy extends a dart, “Bob just put you two losers on the board.”

He sounds mildly irritated, but it won’t last—Omaha and Fanboy have them smoked, which isn’t an unusual feeling. They’ll be rejoicing in no time. This place has kicked his ass in darts a dozen times, be it Seresin or others—he’s a bad dart player. Horrendous. Doesn’t help he’s distracted thinking about you at the bar, half hard imagining the things he would do to that smiling face of yours.

Fifteen minutes and a hundred quick glances later, Fanboy and Omaha have, indeed, killed Bradley and Bob in darts. He volunteers to retrieve drinks from the bar and Bob offers to secure a pool table that’s been vacated, but Rooster barely notices—he instead tracks you across the bar, to a booth you and your friends have plopped into along the wall of windows.

Your two friends are across from you, giggling over some girl shit, you leaning over the bar to speak to them animatedly—you talk with your hands, your expressions genuine and larger than life.

Forearms leaning against the bar, he wonders what you’re telling them. From here you look like a phenomenal storyteller, someone he never wants to stop listening to.

Whatever you’ve shared is hilarious, because you plunk back into your side of the booth, laughing so hard your head kicks back against the booth. So hard that your face turns pink, and you cover it with your hands for a heartbeat, fingers pressing to your cheeks in a way that tells him you know you’re flushed.

You’re the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. And Bradley flies planes for a living—there’s nothing sexier than handling a multi-million dollar government aircraft at dizzying speeds.

Or, at least, there wasn’t until he sees you, still giggling foolishly in your booth like a kid.

Warm just thinking about you and that pretty mouth whispering dangerous things, he bites the inside of his cheek, something in his cock twitching at the idea.

He hasn’t realized the corner of his mouth has ticked up in a grin until Penny Benjamin is dropping four beers in front of him, smirking as she wipes her hands on her jeans.

Pushing off the bar, Rooster begins taking the necks of the beers between his fingers, the thick glass chasing heat out of his hands. Thankful for the distraction, he nods at Penny.

Her eyes cut over his shoulder. “Sweet girl,” she says quietly, reaching to pop an olive from a garnish tray into her mouth. “She’s drinking Titos and soda water, just so you know.”

God bless Penny and her female intuition, and he smiles at her and lifts a shoulder, raising his beer-laden fingers to playfully salute off his brow.

“Noted, ma’am. Thank ya.”

She winks at him and chuckles, shaking her head as he turns smoothly on his heel, eyes fluidly moving to you in the booth again as he begins cutting through the people on the floor back to the table Bob has been guarding.

Bob’s chalking up cue sticks when he plunks a beer down on the edge of the table. Bradley hauls off on the beer, long and slow drinks, hoping it’ll chill the heat in his blood and calm his heart the fuck down.

It doesn’t work—instead, his throat hollows when he watches you scoot up against the window, legs extended across the vinyl of the booth, bare feet crossed as your flip flops hang out beneath the table.

Even from here, your toes are manicured in a bright and adorable yellow, standing out against dark-wash, dated flare jeans. You wiggle them to whatever beat it coming out of the stereo system—he can’t remember, doesn’t care.

But you know the song, your head is bopping to the tune as your finger lazily circles the rim of your drink.

All he can think about is his feet tangling with yours. Tangible heat jumps into his chest.

“Rooster.”

He jumps. Nearly fucking vibrating, he blows out a breath and grabs the collar of the Hawaiian shirt, trying to fan the sweat dripping from the hollow of his throat. Eyes casting to the felt of the table, from the corner of his gaze he sees Bob extending a cue to him, freshly chalked and ready to go.

“You ready to rack ‘em?”

Snatching it from him, Bradley gives what he hopes is a firm nod, but knows is anything but.

“Yeah. Let’s go for it.”

He sinks a stripe in the corner pocket on the first go, claiming stripes the rest of the game. Once he’s into it with Bob, Nat and Seresin meander over to join up for doubles, and he’s relatively into the game—the hundred or so glances he’s allowed himself to steal of you drops significantly as Seresin and Nat engage him in conversation, topics floating in and out about work, Top Gun, dates, and somehow, Bradley’s time in UVA.

He hasn’t stopped thinking about you, but liquid courage and the distraction of friends is giving him an edge. Rooster’s decided that he’s going to interrupt your girls night. It’s inevitable. He’ll be kicking himself for the rest of forever if he doesn’t at least make himself known, and contrary to his callsign, he isn’t chicken.

Calculated, maybe a bit reserved, but never chicken.

About thirty minutes into the game, he notices that your friends have either left or stepped out, because you’re alone in the booth. Feet still crossed and bopping lightly to the music, you’re on your phone. Brow pulled into a little wrinkle, he can see your glass is nearly empty—mostly ice, the lime torn to bits at the bottom of the glass.

Mouth ticking up into a small smirk, he tosses back the rest of the Blue Moon he’s been sucking on, and excuses himself to retrieve another.

Penny serves with him a wink and a smile as she nudges the Titos and club soda toward him with a light finger. He grabs it by the top, thick hand doming the rim of it to keep it stable, and lithely moves through the crowd of people, tracking your booth. Your girlfriends are gone, but they’ll return–closer proximity reveals that you’re purse guarding, your loneliness temporary.

He’s standing at the edge of your booth, and your eyes flick up to him from the phone. It drops into your lap and you shift your shoulders against the cool window. Even from here, he can see the beads of perspiration on your forehead. Your lips are a glossy pink, something he’s missed, and for a brief second Bradley tracks the idea of what they might taste like; what it would feel like to mess up that gloss in his mustache.

The mere thought of it stokes heat in his belly, sends it rocketing through his blood, straight to his cock.

Your smile is slow, the silence between you two bleeding for a second. “Hiya.” Your tone is innocent and bright in that girlish, cute kind of way, but something in the back of the greeting tells him you can be dirty when you want to be. “I was wonderin’ when you’d make your way over here.”

The statement, and the slight accent, pops his brow. “That right?”

You giggle and shrug a shoulder, elbow lifting to brace against the back of the booth to cradle your head. “Mhm. You’ve only been eye fucking me across the room all night, Bradshaw.”

The way you say his name unravels something along his spine. His eyes trace the lines of your face, the length of your throat—-the way you’re sitting does marvelous things for your tits, cleavage a damn near valley in what he’ll bet anything is a push-up bra.

Rooster is actively blinking back the idea of ripping that black bra off you with his teeth when you sit forward, hand reaching for the drink that is, obviously, for you.

“Thanks,” your fingers brush against his, and Bradley nearly jumps back from the spark of electricity the sensation sends up his arm. Damn near giving him heart palpitations, your tongue tracks the cocktail straw, taking a slow pull of the Titos with a little smile on your face.

“How’s it going? Get your ass handed to you in darts yet?”

Your eyes drip down his frame, and he feels a sense of pride when your gaze lingers on his chest, marveling. Loosening his shoulders, he drops an arm to the back of the booth, leaning against it in what he hopes is a casual way—mostly for support, because your sparkling eyes are undressing him, right here, and he can barely stand it.

A drink of beer helps his response. “Yeah, but Floyd and I are making a comeback with pool.”

“Ah.” You nod, eyes cutting to the game. “Figures. Sounds like fun.” You wink at him then wiggle your fingers in the direction of the game, tipping your head that way, “Looks like you’re up, Rooster.”

“Wanna sub in?” The very idea of you bending over a pool table has him nearly feral, the back of his tongue thick with a dry he doesn’t ever remember feeling before. Tongue tracking along his back teeth, he can’t raise any kind of moisture in his mouth at all, and the beer does nothing for him.

“I’m kinda out on a date with girlfriends, Bradley,”

He lifts a shoulder dismissively, nose scrunching to match the effort. “What kind of girlfriends are they if they deny you a game of pool with a guy like me?” Thumb tucking into his chest, he lifts his hand to rake through his hair again, something he knows is sexy as fuck.

It works, because he watches you swallow a breath.

You beam at him, sapphire eyes snapping to life in a way that nearly startles him as you plunk your drink on the surface of the booth with more gusto than necessary, the liquid swirling in a tempest as you scoot your way forward, out of the booth.

Reaching beneath the table for your shoes, you brush up against him as you find your feet, mere inches from his face, now.

“Smart ones,” you counter, quickly.

He chuckles. “Relative term, sweetheart.”

“You think you’re pretty slick, dontcha?” The corner of your mouth lifts as your eyes slide to half mast, head tipped playfully to the side. His senses swirl with whatever perfume you’re wearing, which he is fairly certain is some kind of mint-eucalyptus thing, but whatever it is specifically doesn’t matter. His toes are curling when you lift your leg to slip on a sandal, the oher dropping to the floor.

“Is it working?”

You pinch your fingers together, nose wrinkling just so. “Maybe a little.”

You step closer, if possible. You’re so damn kissable, lips perfectly full and glossed in a way that is destroying his ability to reason. Nearly vibrating, he can’t stop looking at your mouth, down the front of that fucking tank top.

Fair skinned and drop-dead stunning, he swallows a thick breath when you turn and knock your shoulder against his, giggling at the expression on his face–his brows are popped up and you lean in, head tipped back in a way that says you want him to kiss you, but you actually don’t say anything at all.

“Rooster,”

Control. He needs control, but his fingers are burning to spin the curl that’s fallen from your top knot around his finger. It looks soft, playful—enticing. He suddenly can’t think of anything else except the contact of your shoulder, still lingering against his, the weight shifting on your legs as you shimmy to brush your hip against his.

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

Your eyes narrow as you rise up on tiptoes, the little ring of blue in your eyes tracking his as you rivet him to the floor. He’s welded, good and firm to the floor. Can’t move, can hardly breathe.

The air moving in his chest feels stale and thick, like every breath weighs a thousand pounds, ripping his lungs to shreds as he tries to focus anywhere other than the weight of your gaze. He can’t, though, you’ve trapped him there—and a thousand thoughts spin out of control, his entire life with you in and out of it, reminding him of everything he’s missed, could miss, if he ever lets you go.

“You okay there, aviator?” It’s a teasing question. Your eyes drop to his top lip, head tipping to the side as your thumb lifts to gently swipe over his mustache. “Y’seem a little off your game tonight, Bradshaw.”

It isn’t a lie. He has been off his game, ever since learning your name.

He probably won’t ever be on his game again. And, Rooster isn’t sure he wants to ever be back on his game. At least, with anyone else. You’re enough game for him, for anyone. Any idea of “being on his game” ever again with anyone else drops a bullet in his gut, stirs acid in the back of his throat.

He could throw up, right now, even thinking about having anyone else.

He chuckles, faintly. Nervously. “Oh, baby, I—” he blows out an uneven breath that pops his cheek. Heat flares up onto his nose when you smile slowly at the reaction. “—ah, shit. Any idea how hard it is to stand here and not kiss you right now?” You’re laughing now, head thrown back, shoulders shaking at the very idea of him being this nervous.

When your head rights, your hand is sneaking up his chest to the back of his neck. Firm and tight, you pull him forward, his chest brushing with yours. He’s positive you can feel the heat rolling off of him like a freight train, but you don’t seem to mind. Instead, your tongue skips out over your bottom lip, wetting it as you tip your head back and to the side, angling like you’re about to kiss him. Again.

“Who says you can’t kiss me right now, Bradshaw?”

It’s all the greenlight he needs. Thick arms wrapping around your waist, he remembers he’s holding a beer bottle, and steps forward, shuffling you to set it on the table.

Your hips move flush against his as your arms wrap around his neck, dragging him down for your lips to meet. You kiss him first, and it takes a fraction of a second for him to deepen it—you meet him, nibbling at his top lip, and he pulls you tighter against his chest.

Bradley’s fairly certain he can hear bells in the distance when your breathing shallows, a little gasp in the back of your throat unraveling everything in his gut as you press tighter against him. His fingers can’t help but bury in the material of the tank top, holding you hard and fast, and you giggle when his fingers dip into the belt loops of your jeans.

Your hand has already skipped beneath the collar of his shirt, the other playing with his hair in that delightful, sexy way.

Half aware that people in the bar can actually see both of you, you moan into his mouth heavily before breaking the kiss, heaving for air. He’s hungry for you, on the bleeding edge of dragging you out of here to the Bronco, when you giggle and press a firm kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Hiya, baby,” you whisper, nose tucking up beneath his ear, “I missed you.”

“Missed you more,”

Reaching for the aviators hanging from his shirt, you slip them on, low on your nose. Your gaze over the rim of his shades is heavy, dark and lusting, nearly killing him. Pressing another chaste kiss to his cheek, you gently push him back, brushing shoulders with him as you angle towards the pool tables.

“I doubt that, Bradshaw,” Turning on your heel, you crook a finger for him to follow. “Now. You promised you’d show me how to sink some balls. Care to make good on that promise, lover?”

He doesn’t have to be told twice.

Biggest love to all ya'll! Get your ask in, here!

#100 followers celebration #100 followers #blurb requests #top gun fanfic #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #controlled chaos squad #call sign meerkat #answered asks #i love chickens #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader

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kittyt-hexxed · 3 months

Text

Signed, Renata

Boss!Renata Glasc x POC!Reader

Warning: Boss!Renata Glasc, POC!Reader, Confession, Love Notes, Valentine’s Day in the Office, blushing so hard your cheeks hurt, your coworkers make fun of you, recognizing someone by their perfume, you get a kiss

Summary: Love is in the air and you’re stuck at work instead of enjoying the themed drinks and desserts… until you find your desk covered in gifts from an unknown admirer.

The words on the paper were blurring the more you tried to read them. Your lunch break was only a short ten minutes away but it felt like forever with how antsy you were feeling. When you woke up, your phone had been flooded with text messages from your friends saying ‘Happy Galentine’s Day!’ Your couple friends were sharing their cute messages and posts, and you knew there’d be even more coming in tonight. You were a sucker for days like this and it made you bummed out to be working when you could be home and taking a nice themed bath. But, all hope was not lost. Your boss was nice and allowed your workplace to decorate and celebrate as long it was all cleaned up by the next morning.

That meant that the office had been decorated in various shades of pink, red, and white with hearts and cheesy pick-up lines everywhere. It brought a lot of laughter and joy… for most of the people. There were a few who were determined to ruin the fun and say Valentine’s was a stupid holiday to celebrate. Their desks had suspiciously been left undecorated and no one wanted to come forward and admit that they were the ones who didn’t do it. Other than that, the day went by as normal and you were so happy to hear your little alarm go off.

You gathered up all of your paperwork, clipped them together, and carefully filed them back into the folder they needed to be in. Your boss would gut you like a fish if she walked past your desk and it was a mess. You could never forget the ice in her voice when you heard her lay into Ken about how much of a slob he was on your first day. That had you scrambling ever since to make sure you kept your area pristine. You didn’t want her to speak to you that way at all.

Your coworkers linked up with you and you ducked into the cafeteria to eat. The chefs had made dishes themed to the day so you were giggling over the heart-shaped desserts and sandwiches. Everyone scrolled through their phones and shared posts on their socials that they thought were pretty or funny. You were just relieved to have a break. You yawn, clutching the hot cup of coffee in your hands hoping it’ll be enough to get you through the rest of the day. You savor each sip while listening to the others talk before the sound of the lunch alarm goes off. ‘Lunch is over already?’ You complain to yourself. You get up and place your mug in the dirty dishes pile, waving at the chefs before heading out of the room.

Everyone normally took some time to get back to their desks but you were confused to see them all hovering around your area. Jamie glanced back and he waved you over with a bright smile on his face. You hurried your pace, feeling a little confused as more of your coworkers gave you the same look.

“What’s going on?” You ask, nudging them to the side when you realize they are staring at your area. Your jaw drops when you see your desk. It was covered with rose petals, decorated with an assortment of flowers and a note was neatly tucked into the keys of your keyboard. You noticed a large box of your favorite chocolates along with a box of artisan chocolate from one of the higher-end chocolatiers in the city. It was beautiful and someone clearly put a lot of time and effort into it. ‘Who put all of that time and effort into this?’ was your first thought. Your second thought was ‘Ms. Glasc is going to murder me if she sees this!’ Your body felt conflicted about how it should react. On one hand, you were terrified your boss was going to scold you for making a mess. On the other, someone was into you enough to do this. You could feel your cheeks warm. Your lips twitched before giving in and curving into a smile so wide it hurt.

“Someone has an admirer!” One of your coworkers says, shaking you. You hear them all giggle and start to tease you about it. It only makes the feeling worse. It couldn’t be from anyone on your floor, right? You all went to lunch at the same time. But, that didn’t mean anything either. Not everyone ate lunch here. Some people chose to go out and pick up lunch from one of the nearby restaurants. Anyone could have done it. It didn’t help that your desks had walls high enough that no one could see over them.

Although your coworkers continue to rile you up, your focus is taken by the note. You walk forward and pick it up, taking a seat in your chair as a few rose petals fall from it. The envelope feels heavier in your hand than the standard ones you’re used to. Your name is scrawled across it in a handwriting that is oddly familiar to you. That piques your curiosity even more. You turn it over and your heart skips a beat seeing the Glasc family crest pressed into the wax seal. Overtaken by your curiosity you pop the seal and unfurl the paper to see the same beautiful scrawling calligraphy across the paper. Your heart beats faster as you catch the faint scent of Darling Decadence, the personal fragrance your boss wears. Your eyes scan the page and your heart beats faster and faster until you reach the closing line.

What would you say if I requested a kiss, pet?

Your breathing catches. Did your boss really write this… love letter… to you?

“What has everyone so excited?” Ms.Glasc’s raspy voice cuts through everyone else’s like the sharpest of knives. The room goes silent and you freeze. You whip around so fast that your chair spins with you. You make eye contact with her. Her glowing magenta eyes pierce your very soul and you nearly melt into your chair. Even with half of her face covered by her breather, you knew she wasn’t happy about all the time being wasted.

“M-Ms.Glasc, I-” You have no clue what you’re trying to say. Are you trying to defend yourself from the mess? Ask her if this letter is real? You were trying to save yourself before you knew what you were saving yourself from.

“Back to work.” She says and everyone runs to their desks. She doesn’t take her eyes off you but walks forward and grabs the top of your chair. You squeak as she leans down to be level with you.

“Um, I- Got your… letter?” You stutter, lifting the letter to show her. Her eyes dart to it and back to you.

“Your answer?” Ms.Glasc asks. You swallow.

“Yes.” You say. She reaches up and there’s a soft hiss as her breather disengages. You think you stop breathing when you finally get to see her face. She’s gorgeous. Her lips curve up into a smirk that has your heart working overtime.

“Good girl.” She grips your chin, tilts your head back, and kisses you.

#renata league of legends #renata glasc x reader #renata glasc x fem reader #renata glasc fic

36 notes · View notes

kazukazuhas · 1 year

Text

𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 . . . #.𝒗𝒂𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝒈𝒏!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

⇘ #.𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ; ; the year is about end, you're in his arms and everything is as it should be.

⇘ #.𝐜𝐰𝐬 ; ; kissing ˏˏ year end kissing ˏˏ cliché my love ˏˏ kazuha and aether are lil shits your honour ˏˏ getting into relationships / in an established relationship / proposal (russian roulette yourself and guess who has what)

⇘ #.𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 ; ; for my irl friends and happy new year ♡ you can clearly tell i was falling in love with kazuha all over again with the fact i cared about his the most– also, when this drops, its new years for me.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

the year end festivities flooded the land of teyvat with bright colours lits door to door. hung lights twisted and slung over the branches of the trees, a gentle glow painted over each leaf of the overhanging branch. the celebrations are raging over, vendors filling the crowd with a hypnotic aroma from the freshly baked meals on their menus.

𝒂𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

·𖥸· // the bright lights lining the streets of sumeru painted his delicate face with a glowing light, making the sweet boy in such a gentle light look more beautiful than the finest dancers, engulfing in him and representing the outlander more alluring than archons. the music glided through the light air, each note so precise and intricate.

·𖥸· // aether was drawn to the lively streets, switching through each stall of each gentle handled merchandise that was offered, dazed at the sight each mouth watering dish served and cooked right in front of the customers' eyes.

·𖥸· // the traveler felt his excitement bubble and pop in his gut before pulling the hand of yours closest to his person, chasing his instincts through the crowded streets. with a cheeky grin he dashes for higher ground where the music is still in ear shot but where there were lesser people lurking.

" i apologize [name], its– its just that–... — aether gazes longingly at your sun kissed face, taking in each feature before wrapping a careful hand around your waist, intertwining his gloved fingers in yours and lifting your hands up to his lips to kiss your knuckles, — " i just so happened to fall for you– a-again. "

·𖥸· // roars of cheers, a countdown, echoed against the halls of the empty staircases, reaching your ears from over the railings. but it didn't matter, not in this moment. not when aether has you captured in his gaze. not when he reciprocates those feelings you buried and that resurface after each day you travel alongside the blond.

" "just so happens ", i love you too, aether. "

·𖥸· // he grins widely, pulling the hand holding yours away and wrapping it around your figure, nuzzling his head into the juncture between your neck and shoulder.

" 4! 3! 2! "

·𖥸· // not leaving a moment to spare, aether cups your face with a nimble hand and pulls you close for a gentle kiss. simple. just his lips against yours with a grin spread on his, surrounding you in his warmth and giggling like the lovestruck fool he has become.

" happy new year, sweet flower. " " happy new year, dear. "

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝒅𝒊𝒍𝒖𝒄 𝒓𝒂𝒈𝒏𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒓, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

·𖥸· // by some strange force, tonight at the lively angel's share, you share your shift alongside and with the caring man the darknight was. he had you on duty as a quite reluctant boss, opting for wanting you celebrate with your family and friends in and other the city of mondstadt, but alas, you were gleeful servering up drinks at his side.

·𖥸· // standing at the opposite end of the counter, the red haired man watched your person pour the drinks from the orders scribbled down to the side of you, under the counter and giving a small enjoyable show for the many people still sober enough to care. a soft coat of blush of his cheeks before refocusing on the customers on his end.

·𖥸· // fortunately, the hours lasted mere seconds and the customers trotted back outside just before the speech delivered by the deaconess and her sister, the acting grandmaster of the city. it wasn't an annual thing, just something on the spot for a few various reasons barbara struck up. a few of the customers still lingered in the tavern, but nothing much compared to the happy hour rush and such.

·𖥸· // the man you married wrapped strong, careful arms around your waist and closed his eyes. diluc enjoyed the heat your body radiated, sighing contently while you hummed one of the various songs the bard that sat lazily on the table in the front strummed his lyre too.

" 'm tired. can't we just go? — diluc squeezed your waist lightly before a quiet murmur of a yawn passed his lips, — " it's the first year we celebrate as a wedded couple and here we are, working at this bloody tavern. "

·𖥸· // though essentially humoring his tired wishes, you chuckled at his sleepy clinginess. muttered that the shift was almost over and that the tavern was about to close up quite soon. however, the man merely grunted at your half response.

" 6! 5! 4! 3! "

·𖥸· // shout fled through the closed door, an exited countdown to the new year. diluc cracked a small smile at the sound of the cheers before gripping your chin between his fingers and turning your face to his. he smiled, as delicate as his love for you before kissing your lips with a passion your adored.

" happy new year, my dearest. " " merry last day, bartender– — diluc abruptly silences your words with another kiss, as tender as the first.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝒛𝒉𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊, 𝒗𝒂𝒈𝒐 𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒐

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

·𖥸· // without a doubt in his mind, zhongli (after spending your mora for sure) has you on the higher parts to gaze over the harbour of contracts. the terrace is fairly quiet, aside from the quiet chattered of the others.

·𖥸· // though the celebrations never quite excited him more than his interest in them, the long standing archon found joy in the way your face lit up at the occasional firework illuminating the sparkle covered sky. the burst of colour had bathe both of your in a light he adored on your skin. perfect, and complete.

·𖥸· // engulfing you in his embrace, an arm around your waist, firm and warm, zhongli smiled as you wrapped an arm around him absent mindedly before speaking of something that came random to mind. he watched your person pour excitement into his hands.

" you are ever the beautiful person, even in the colours of those well-crafted fireworks the qixing had imported — the man gestured with a soft, fond gaze over the city lying beneath the terrace, — " quite the sight for " sore eyes, " as they say.

·𖥸· // the remark slipped him by surprise, but his calm and firm voice made it as natural as each breath he took. however the lovestruck stare in his eyes directly to you seemed both natural, unforced and yet, so new. you could've sworn he had heart eyes.

" 10! ... 7! ... — "

·𖥸· // distant counting alerting both of you, he smiled gently before moving closer to your lips. a silent promise of his love interlaced in a soft whispers of his love. gentler in the kiss to your lips, melting his love into your heart with certainty he held all his life. the world stilled, cheers erupted, and he fell in love again.

" happy new year, my love. " " happy new year, dear. "

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝒌𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒕𝒐 𝒂𝒚𝒂𝒕𝒐, 𝒑𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒕𝒖𝒅𝒆

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

·𖥸· // the kamisato estate laid in a quieter mood, each of the servants of the household on leave either to spend the time with their families, visiting the stalls with friends or conversing with each other in the halls. thoma disappeared out on the streets, and last with ayaka, the two out with friends. that leaving a tired but loving ayato alone with you.

·𖥸· // while his status did require him to interact with many of the people of the city, and yet, here was the head of the clan with you enveloped in his clingy embrace and mumbling about the lighter politics and other topics he thought of. the light of the moon and occasionally naganohara firework shining in the sky, painted his face and arms with a soft light.

·𖥸· // the distant uproar in the celebration's noise surrounded your ears, signaling it was about the time for the new year to arrive.

" oh? it's about time now is it? — calm and soft, his voice vexed you in a gentle trance, watching the sky go blank with the smoke and the land grow silent, — " well, may i have one last kiss for this year? "

·𖥸· // but without further prompting or an answer, the head of the kamisato clan placed a chaste kiss to your lips, delicate and soft hearted, placing unspoken trust in you with the movements of his lips against yours.

" 7! 6! 5! "

" oh– seems i'm a little early. may i have another? " " happy new year, ayato. " " happy new year, darling. "

𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒊 𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒐, 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒂𝒎𝒊𝒛𝒂𝒌𝒂 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒔

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

·𖥸· // the arataki gang always had the tradition of celebrating together along whichever street they founf themselves were on. the children normally flocked to them to play and sing along to the inazuman songs the boys shouted at the top of their lungs. many of the vendors, and parents alike, offer them trinkets and food as a form of payment for their entertainment and unintentional " babysitting ".

·𖥸· // though watching them from a distance with an amused kuki at your side at one of the table of a nearby restaurant, a short round of drinks shared between the both of you. savouring the smaller meals at restaurant offered while chatting about the random.

·𖥸· // when about the time for the countdown, the two of you remerge with the rest of the gang to throw away the year together for what is the first time since itto snatched you off the market. the excitable oni gathered you up in his arms, cheering and singing aloud and proud in inazuman.

" 10! 9! 8! 7! ... — " came the sound of the kids and the boys chanting, surprisingly with kuki alongside the children.

" lub ya, bubblegum! "

·𖥸· // itto shared a short lived kiss, though intially a spur of the moment, he grinned as he danced into the night with a few minutes between kiss he granted you. gathering the kids and singing gleefully alongside you and his closest friends.

" happy new year, lovebug! " " happy new year, ara! "

𝒌𝒂𝒆𝒅𝒆𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒌𝒂𝒛𝒖𝒉𝒂, 𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒑𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒖𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒅 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

·𖥸· // kazuha hid the both of you away into the overlooking apartments further outward of the city, the balcony lit up with the soft, warm lights end to end and onto the next. he stood with arms securely around your middle, a wine glass with little of the dark red liquid swaying in one of his hands. the balcony hung over and peeked just right into the city's heart.

·𖥸· // the faint music hugged the both of you, kazuha moving your hips boredly to the soft beat while whispering soft affirmations at the shell of your ear. light heart teasing traced the outline of each word before squeezing your life from you temporarily.

·𖥸· // the reasoning behind his want to stay here was the fact he had something important to ask you, his desire to pop the question and call you his in everyway, by your name to the way others referred to you.

" my dove, i happen to have to ask you something really important. — kazuha whispered into your ear before kissing the nape of your neck, pulling away and turning you around to reveal a ring of intricate design between his thumb and pointer fingers, — " will you take me to be yours for the rest of our lives and eternity? "

·𖥸· // safe to say the countdowns and shouting from the celebrations up road were drowned out by the way he held you so close to his chest, bathe in soft light and love. he pressed a soft kiss to your lips, assuring you that he loved you and that he would not take your love for granted.

" happy new years, my love. " "happy new year, dove. "

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

⇘ : : 𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ≫ // @spoopy-fish-writes // @spoops-inliyue ˏˏ @decaffeinatedcloudkryptonite // @shaantiofher

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𝙙𝙤 𝙣𝙤𝙩 𝙧𝙚𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙩, 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙨𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙚, 𝙚𝙩𝙘. 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙢𝙮 𝙥𝙧𝙞𝙤𝙧 𝙥𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙧 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬𝙡𝙚𝙙𝙜𝙚. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙠 𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜 𝙚𝙭𝙘𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚. 𝙘𝙤𝙥𝙧. 𝙠𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙖𝙯𝙪𝙝𝙖𝙨 2022

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pochipop · 2 years

Note

hello!! i hope you’re doing great today :))

i’ve never requested before so i hope im doing this right

could i request something v angsty with diluc?

thank u!! <3

＃ GENSHIN IMPACT !! ♡ — SUNSETS WITH(OUT) YOU (DILUC X READER).

#. synopsis! — sometimes, moving on feels impossible. guilt sits in diluc's gut like heavy stones. he'd do anything for one last chance .

#. characters! —diluc .

#. warnings! — heavy angst .

#. word count! — 1.8k .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw) @yyolkchi (reblog/spam) .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

The pain comes in waves.

Sometimes, it laps at Diluc's shores like a comforting kiss, —the kind you used to pepper thoughtfully down the line of his jaw after a day’s work. The kind he'd all but melt under, reducing himself to putty in your hands. Other times, it crashes and roars like the howling wolves of the forests, pulling him in and under, washing him out to sea until he's lost, confused, and losing his will to move forward.

Tonight, he's hurting.

He stumbles in through the door after a night at the tavern serving drinks to cheerful drunks and rowdy lightweights. Kaeya wasn’t there. He hasn’t been since he heard the news, though Diluc isn’t sure why. Or maybe he does know, somewhere deep inside, and yet feigning ignorance is easier than facing things head on. All Diluc really knows for certain is that Kaeya wasn’t there. . . But he’s starting to wish he’d show up again. He’s starting to wish he’d come waltzing in through the door, no need for pity or anything of the sort. Just that cocky smirk and arrogant aura, making snide comments on little things just because he can. Yeah. . . Diluc could use that normalcy.

His heart is heavy with the thought of you. It's been a while, but the wound is fresh. It bleeds and bleeds and bleeds until Diluc lets it consume him, lets it strip him down to a mess on the floor. It bleeds until he falls apart, knowing that come morning he'll have to piece himself back together with reckless abandon and hope for the best. It'll never last long, but he has to admit that sometimes it's nice to pretend that he's learned how to live with the loss. It might even be easier to pretend that it doesn't always poke at his heart, reminding him of the hole you left behind that he doesn't know how to fix or fill.

Tonight, he's drowning again.

Diluc looks around at his bedroom and exhales, shakily so, listening for the sound of his mask of security shattering away into nothingness at his feet. He can't bring himself to throw away the dead flowers on the nightstand, —the ones he got for you in celebration of nothing in particular. Once a beautiful bouquet of cecilias, the petals are long past the point of being shriveled. They've blackened and fallen away from their rotting stems, curling into pathetic shells of what they once were. If Diluc were to pick them up, they'd crumble into dust in the palm of his hands. The vase is void of water now after quite a bit of neglect, but he'll make up for that in the morning. He'll water those long-dead stems and gently sweep the corpses of those lifeless petals into a little pile.

Not that it'll make him feel any better.

In fact, it might as well be making things worse. But he'll do it in spite of that, because you once held those now-dead flowers close to your chest with a beaming smile on your face. You were happy in that moment, and he can’t bear the thought of getting rid of them when you were the one who carefully filled that little vase with water, the one who placed it on the nightstand next to your bed. His bed. The bed you once shared with him each night, wrapped up in each other, thinking maybe if he loved you hard enough it would shield you from the world itself.

Some days, he wakes up and has to fight the urge to slam that vase to the ground, watching as it shatters against the floor. And then Diluc is sure that he’d cry, fall to his knees atop all the shards with no regard for the pain it’ll cause him once he’s wrung himself dry again.

He’s good at making himself miserable.

That’s why he hasn’t washed the sheets in months, —because he’s tricked himself into believing that your side of the bed still smells like you, even after all this time. Acknowledging that it’s faded is far more hurtful than the alternative of clutching onto the pillow you always used, closing his eyes, and pretending that you’re still there with him, snuggling into his chest and mumbling something about how he made you feel safe.

His heart throbs.

All you ever wanted was for him to keep you safe, and yet here he is having completely failed you. And the worst part of all is that he knows you’d be the first person to tell him that he did the best he could, —that he tried, and that it was enough, even though he knows it wasn’t. Diluc knows you wouldn’t blame him. . . So he’s blaming himself enough for the both of you and then some.

Not because it’s what you’d want, but because it’s what he thinks he deserves.

He sits by the window now in that same spot you used to watch the sun set, slinking its way out of the sky as your eyes reflected the dimming rays. Diluc can hear you now as he gazes from the same window you once did, —gushing over the beautiful blend of colors awash in the sky. . . You’d always invite him to share the moment with you. Now, he regrets having said no so many times. If he could go back in time and do it all again, he’d never turn down a single offer. He’d hold you close, wrap you up in his arms, kiss the sweet spot just below your ear to hear you hum ever so lightly in bliss.

He really wishes he could do it all again.

The thought of it often keeps him awake at night.

Diluc feels that same wave of dread wash over him that he’s felt at every sunset since that fateful day. He might have grown to hate them by now if it weren’t for your love of them, —if it weren’t for the lingering shreds of your presence that he swears he feels when he gazes off toward the horizon as the sun lowers itself out of the sky to make room for the moon’s humble glow.

Maybe it’s just another way he’s deluding himself, watering down the agony that reaches for his heart every chance it gets, but it’s better than the emptiness that awaits him as an alternative. It’s better than the nothingness that Diluc knows would swallow him whole if he were to accept things as they are. Bleak. Completely desolate. . . Colder than even the windiest strips of mountainside atop Dragonspine’s all but infinite summit.

At least here he can trick himself into believing that your fingertips are trailing along the back of his hand the way they always did, like little nimble spider legs just dancing along his flesh. Though Diluc has long been a man who prefers his space, you were one of the few people he would thoughtlessly allow close, —closer than anyone else could ever dream of being. So close that it might have been suffocating.

For the millionth time, Diluc is forced to come to the sobering realization that this room no longer feels like his own. This manor, the one his father took such care of when he was alive and well, has been reduced to nothingness. It feels utterly forsaken.

There’s nothing left here, and yet this room of things, dead flowers, little trinkets, and all the memories he can’t seem to part with, is all he has left of you. If he doesn’t come here, where else is there to go? He doesn’t feel you this strongly anywhere else, —not along Mondstadt’s cobble streets, not in the tavern where you’d swing by every now and again to entice him upstairs and onto the balcony, stealing kisses just to leave him breathless under the stars. He doesn’t feel you next to Starfell Lake where you used to feed the ducks and call them by names, —one’s you’d given them. Diluc still isn’t sure how you managed to tell them apart, or even if you ever truly did at all.

He doesn’t feel you like this at the top of Starsnatch Cliff where he took you on a first date, one that was sloppily planned and poorly executed on his part, but you said nothing of it and held his hand below an inky black sky anyway.

Try as he might, he only feels you so stirringly here in the room you tended to when Diluc himself chose not to. When work would pile up for him, you’d take care of all the smaller things just to give him a soft place to land at the end of each day.

Needless to say, the room has divulged into calamity without you.

Diluc wishes he could pull himself together, keep up with the tasks you always took care of with ease. He wishes he could fill your place, but it’s painfully obvious that he doesn’t have the will nor the strength to do so. He’s drained himself of every last drop. There’s nothing left to find inside him. He’s running on empty, and try as he might, there’s seemingly nothing he can do to fix it.

And above all else, Diluc just wishes that everything were different.

He wishes that his dad was still here to talk him down, to give him advice, to point him in the right direction. He wishes Kaeya were here, even if he’s still angry with him. He’d give the world to have a shoulder to cry on, —to have his brother here for the first time in forever. It’s selfish, he knows, considering Diluc drove the wedge between them himself and has since adamantly denied every last one of Kaeya’s attempts to mend things. . . But right now, selfishness is one of the few things Diluc can manage to conjure up.

And selfishly, he’d let the entirety of Teyvat burn to a crisp around him if it meant he could have your lips pressed against his again, even if only for a moment.

Diluc reaches out to open the window. The sunset is gone and the stars don’t glimmer as brightly as they once did. He feels nothing but bitterness well up inside as he listens to the song of the wind and trees. He’s sure you’d want to dance to the tender melody of the breeze stirring the branches up above. Maybe, he ponders, if I send a message off with the wind, it just might reach the right place. . .

With a heavy, aching heart, Diluc traces the window sill, fingertips easily sliding over the smooth material. A sob creeps up the back of his throat as he closes his eyes, feeling that same breeze caress his skin under the moonlight. It’s nowhere near as comforting as he wishes it was, but it’s all that remains. It’s all he’s got left.

Though the words nearly die on his tongue, Diluc forces himself to speak; sending that message off with the wind in hopes that you might hear it wherever you are now.

“I love you.”

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moodymelanist · 1 year

Text

Day 6: Take All Of Me

happy day 6 of @sjmromanceweek, everyone! hope you enjoy this one because the smut is finally in the building!!

Summary: Nesta and Cassian had big plans for their first wedding anniversary… at least, that was the intention.

Read on AO3 here!

♡♡♡♡♡

Nesta

“Nes, have you seen my tie?” Cassian yelled from their bedroom.

Nesta didn’t even stop applying her blush to call back an answer. “I left it out for you on the bed!”

Nesta and Cassian had gotten married in a gorgeous ceremony last year on the beach, surrounded by all the people who loved them, and today was their first wedding anniversary. They were no stranger to celebrating anniversaries — they’d dated for three years before getting engaged — but celebrating their first wedding anniversary felt important. It didn’t stop them from running late for their dinner reservations as usual, but they were doing their best.

“How much longer do you need?” he asked. She could hear the clink of his cologne bottles moving around as he searched for one to wear, and she hoped he picked one of her favorites to wear tonight. “We should’ve left five minutes ago!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming, hold on,” she replied, reaching for her setting spray before frantically putting on her jewelry. She’d at least had the foresight to bring her shoes into the bathroom, so she slid her feet into her heels before reaching for her own perfume and walking into the living room to meet him.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nesta,” Cassian said once he saw her, his eyes practically bugging out of his head. “You’re gonna kill me.”

Nesta just smiled. She’d gone all out for their dinner tonight, making sure her makeup was perfect and that her lipstick matched the exact red of her dress. Red has always been her husband’s favorite color, and judging by the way he was staring at the way the corset dress was pushing up her breasts and the slit in the fabric over her left thigh, he was going to have a hell of a good time taking it off her later.

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” Nesta replied, thoroughly appreciating the way he looked in his all-black suit. It contrasted nicely with the dark red tie she’d laid out for him, and between the care he’d taken to style his hair and the way his muscles pulled at the fabric… well. It was doing things for her.

The longer they stood there looking at each other, the more heat began pooling in her gut. There was no way she was going to be able to sit through a dinner and make idle conversation, not when she already wanted to rip that perfectly tailored suit off him, and judging by the way he was looking at her he felt the exact same way.

“Cancel the reservation,” she said suddenly.

“You sure?” he asked, though he didn’t sound too torn up about it.

“Cancel it.” She kicked off her shoes and walked the few steps separating them, taking the opportunity to feel him up through his slacks before reaching into his pocket to hand him his phone. “Don’t make me say it again.”

“Yes ma’am,” he replied. She kept palming his hardening length through his pants while he pulled up the restaurant’s phone number, and thankfully it didn’t take long for him to let the host know they wouldn’t be able to make it.

“Fucking tease,” Cassian said the second he was off the phone. He reached down and wrapped his arms around Nesta’s thighs, pulling her into his arms with ease so they could be as close as possible. “I should teach you some patience.”

Nesta just smirked as she wrapped her thighs around his waist, grinding down against him as best she could at this angle. “It might take a few tries.”

“Lucky for you, I’m in this for the long haul,” he replied. His eyes went a little soft around the edges before he finally closed the distance between them and kissed her, their tongues moving together in a well-practiced dance.

“Table?” he asked as they walked toward the kitchen, effortlessly supporting her weight as they kept kissing.

“Island,” she countered, panting as she tried to get her hands on as much of him as she could reach. His hair felt so good against her fingers even though it was still a little damp with product, and she gripped as tight as she dared while she had the chance. “More… mhmm, more structurally sound.”

“I love it when you talk technical to me,” he said, squeezing her ass through her dress. “So fucking sexy.”

“I’ll show you sexy,” she mumbled against his mouth.

Cassian just pulled back and chuckled before setting Nesta gently on the counter. The granite was cool against her overheated skin, and she squirmed at the change in temperature as he hiked her dress up her thighs to reveal the lacy underwear she had on underneath. “All this for me?”

“It is our anniversary,” Nesta replied dryly. They both knew how much she enjoyed dressing up just for him to unwrap her like his favorite present, and tonight had been no different.

“I’m a lucky man,” he told her with a grin. He leaned forward to steal another kiss before yanking her underwear off, the red lace disappearing to a random corner of the room without a second thought.

Cassian took his time studying her, hmming low in his throat at the sight of her spread bare for him. “My favorite dessert.”

That was all the warning Nesta got before he sank to his knees and dove in tongue-first. She leaned back onto her elbows and let her head fall back for a few moments as pleasure spread through her body, her husband far too good at his favorite activity, before she raised it back up again so she could watch him in action.

“Fuck, you taste so good,” he murmured. He looked up at her as he tongued her clit, and she couldn’t keep her moans in even if she’d wanted to. “That’s it, sweetheart. Let me hear you.”

The sight of him kneeling before her always made her hot, but seeing him all dressed up was really doing something extra for her. Still, her core was only so strong, so she eventually had to lie all the way down so she could rock her hips into his face properly. It was a shame she couldn’t keep staring at him, but he was working her over so well her eyes couldn’t help but flutter shut anyway.

“Fuck, you’re so good at this,” she moaned. She felt more than heard his rumble of laughter, but then his tongue was moving against her clit again. His ability to rile her up so quickly was downright miraculous, and the day she stopped appreciating that would be her last day on Earth.

“Oh my God don’t you dare stop,” Nesta demanded in a breathy rush, her body teetering on the precipice of what she knew would be a good orgasm. She reached down and gripped his hair tightly, her hips bucking wildly into his face, and he thankfully didn’t change a thing about what he was doing. It didn’t take long after that for her to shatter with a loud cry, the pleasure nearly overwhelming as she kept thrusting her hips toward him.

“You’re so gorgeous when you come,” Cassian said after a few moments. He pressed a few kisses to the inside of her thigh before yanking her down to the edge of the counter and flipping her over. She scrambled to spread her legs as wide as she could manage in the new position, trying to give him as much space as possible so he could take her from behind.

She heard the sounds of him undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper, and him being mostly fully clothed only made the entire thing hotter. She loved knowing they wanted each other so badly they barely wanted to waste time fully undressing, but the thought of him standing there fully clothed while she looked a debauched mess made her clench around nothing.

Damn, she wished she could see the picture they made right now. If only they had a mirror in here. Nesta made a mental note to add one to her wishlist, but then Cassian was rubbing the head of his cock against her entrance and she lost her entire train of thought. They both groaned as he finally pushed inside her, the stretch almost too much even after all the years they’d been together. He took his time bottoming out inside her, knowing she was still a little sensitive, and she appreciated those extra few breaths even as she wanted him to fuck her senseless already.

“God, you’re so fucking wet,” he groaned. He hiked her dress up even higher, leaving one hand on her hip while the other wrapped her hair around it, and slowly started to thrust in and out. “Is that all for me, sweetheart?”

“You know what you do to me,” she gasped. “I want you all the time.”

“I know.” She didn’t need to be looking at him to tell he was smirking. “I should just keep you tied up and ready for me to fuck you anytime of the day.”

“Yeah, I bet you’d like that,” Cassian continued as though Nesta wasn’t moaning her head off at his words. “Pretty little slut like you? I bet you’d be fucking begging for it.”

If she’d thought the image of putting a mirror in the room with them had been hot, the vision he was painting in her head was downright filthy. Still, not one to be outdone, she forced her mouth to form a reply. “Not as much as you’d like having a hole to use.”

“I would like that, wouldn’t I?” he asked. He suddenly tightened his grip on her hair and yanked her head back, pulling a surprised moan from her lips as he timed it with a particularly hard thrust. The pain felt so good mixed with the pleasure, and he was an expert in finding just the right balance. “My gorgeous wife all laid out for me, ready to let me fuck her stupid any time of the day. What’s not to like?”

“Fuck,” she moaned, her breaths coming faster as she thought about all the things he was saying.

“That’s the idea.” He gave her hair one more vicious tug before releasing her altogether, and she fell forward like a marionette whose strings had been cut. “Don’t hurt yourself, sweetheart. That’s my job.”

Cassian suddenly leaned forward until Nesta’s front was completely pressed against the counter, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto so she didn’t go flying from the force of his thrusts, but her husband seemed to be one step ahead of her for once. He let go of her hip so he could tangle their fingers together above their heads, caging her in while also being incredibly sweet about it.

“Love you,” he grunted into her ear. His thrusts went from fast and hard to slow and deep, and the way he had her pressed against the counter made it hard to breathe in the best way. “Best fucking thing to ever happen to me.”

“Love you too,” she managed to say back. The way he had her positioned gave her the perfect leverage to rock back and forth between the counter and the hard muscle of her husband’s torso, the pressure against her clit just enough to start getting herself off.

“You gonna come like this?” he asked, still grinding into her from behind. At her frantic nodding, he started planting sloppy kisses onto the side of her neck while he matched the new rhythm she was setting. “Love it when you come on my cock. You milk me so fucking perfect — fuck, sweetheart, that’s it—”

Nesta shot off like a rocket at his words, clenching hard around Cassian mid-sentence and yanking him right over the edge with her. He thrusted home one last time before coming inside her, squeezing her hands hard as their bodies shook, and murmuring whatever half-thought out dirty things he could think of right into her ear.

“Happy anniversary, Nes,” Cassian said after a few minutes. He pressed a kiss to the back of her neck before releasing her hands and sliding out of her with a hiss. “Jesus, that was good. You wanna order some pizza and cuddle on the couch?”

“Hell yes,” Nesta replied. She turned over and kissed him thoroughly before finding her bearings enough to start walking toward the bathroom for a shower. “I knew I married you for a reason. Happy anniversary, baby.”

#sjmromanceweek2023 #acotar #acosf #nessian #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #moodymelanistwrites

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possiamo-andare · 2 years

Text

Love Is A Dangerous Game: Rafe Cameron (part 2)

Rafe Cameron x Y/N

MASTERLIST

word count: 10.9k

part one

warnings: smut, swearing, and lots of fluff

a/n: i am seriously so impressed with myself with this one! i really enjoyed writing it, especially since i was playing taylor swift's evermore while writing it lol. it took awhile and i apologize, i was sick and then i had exams and life just got in the way. anyways, happy reading!

When you’re nineteen, lying in your bedroom with damp eyes and heavy breaths, all you want is to be loved. You lie awake at night, wondering why love hasn’t found you yet. Y/N was not immune to this and she too would stay awake long after everyone else was asleep, wondering why love hadn’t swung her way.

Y/N’s mother, along with her other pieces of advice, told her daughter that young love was false hope and anguish. And although she tried to remember that, she still craved to be wanted. Yearned for. Every nineteen-year-old does, especially nineteen-year-old girls. She yearned for her name on someone else’s lips and spoke softly into her ear.

But she knew the reality. She knew how vast the void was between her want and the truth, and that terrified her down to her bones. Silence can become deafening, haunting thoughts, filled with her fears. The idea that she would never be wanted. That she won’t find someone who will unconditionally love her. That she may never feel reciprocated love.

Y/N used to sit there, in shades of grey, and pray that one day her thoughts would be proven wrong. She had waited a long time, even after Daniel arrived, and dreamt of endless fantasies of how it could be.

And then, Rafe Cameron kissed her. She had looked like a mess and she hadn’t brushed her teeth that day but he had kissed her. Devoured her. And then, just then, she realized what it meant to be yearned for. As he held her close, his lips devouring her own, she felt her heart burst.

So, this is what it feels like to be yearned for.

Although that was her first inkling of Rafe’s feelings, and their confessions at the college party were the second, tonight was the third. Tonight, was a night she’d remember forever. Just three weeks after their first kiss, Rafe had said something that made everything so much more real.

“I love you.”

Two hours earlier, Y/N was getting ready for a party. It was a start-of-summer party, which was something celebrated by all of the teenagers in Outer Banks in celebration of school finally ending. The teenagers in Outer Banks really knew how to throw a party. Specifically, the start-of-summer parties. These parties, usually thrown in the house of the richest Kook, were the most extravagant parties in the town and very exclusive. This meant you had to be invited, and that usually meant no Pogues allowed. Fortunately, Y/N had been invited. She was dating Outer Banks’s richest guy after all. Secretly, of course. She hadn’t found the guts to tell her brother, or anyone, that she had been dating Rafe Cameron for three weeks.

“Ready to go?” Oliver asked, leaning against the threshold of Y/N’s bedroom door. He had his sneakers on and his keys jingled in his hands.

Y/N rolled her eyes, spraying some setting mist to set her makeup before looking at her brother. The night had just started and he was already bothering her. “I still can’t believe you’re going.”

Oliver gave her an incredulous look. “Are you embarrassed of me or something?”

Y/N smirked. “Uh, yeah. I don’t wanna be associated with you tonight.”

The real reason she didn’t want Oliver to go was because Rafe was going and she knew she’d be sneaking off early to be with him. They had spent every waking second together since she arrived back in OBX, and she hoped tonight would be no different.

“Why? Are you trying to impress someone?” Oliver teased, following after Y/N as she exited her room.

Y/N blushed, hiding her face from her brother. “What? No.”

Oliver chuckled. “Please, I haven’t seen you get ready for a party since your first homecoming with Daniel. Either you’re excited to see someone tonight, or you’re having a manic episode. Those are the only two instances where you put on this much makeup.”

Y/N hated how well he knew her. He was right, after all. This had been the first party she would be attending since her night at the frat house with Rafe and she wanted to impress him. Although Rafe had never dated anyone, she knew the girls he slept with were all so pretty. She wasn’t exactly jealous, but she did want him to feel proud to be with her. Rafe never seemed to care if she wore makeup or not, his eyes always seemed glued on her.

“Not having a manic episode, but I might if you don’t stop bothering me.” Y/N replies, opening the passenger’s side door of Oliver’s car. It was a janky old thing, dust coating every inch of the car. She almost felt embarrassed showing up in this car, but she didn’t want to walk and it was the only one they had.

Oliver laughed, his keys in the ignition. “Well, whoever he is, I’m sure he’ll love the look.”

Y/N faked a gag, overselling her annoyance. “Shut up.”

Oliver dropped it, changing the conversation once his favourite song came on, but Y/N’s mind stayed on Rafe. Her thoughts seemed to be consumed by him, especially since they started dating. She had always thought of him -- of how his lips would feel against her own or how it would feel to hug him -- but now that she knew those answers, it was all she could think about. Even worse, she got the answers to questions she never even thought to ask. She felt the vibration in his chest as he laughed, and she became familiar with how his eyes twinkled whenever she spoke. She found herself looking back on many of their interactions when they were kids and she realized he had always been looking at her like this. What she mistook for annoyance, he was really just showing his adoration. She felt stupid for not seeing all of the signs. For being so blind. But she saw him now, and she liked what she saw.

When they finally arrived at Rafe’s home, the party was in full swing. There were people diving into his pool and people dancing on his roof. The music was loud; she had heard it as Oliver turned the corner on their street and as they exited his car. It vibrated against her body as they passed the threshold of his home, making their way deeper and deeper into the Cameron household. There were people everywhere. It seemed as though the entirety of OBX was here. Y/N and Oliver squeezed past a hoard of people, dodging sweaty bodies and drunk teens. This party was like a walking hazard; drunk teens and expensive decor everywhere. But no one seemed to care, and Y/N cared a lot less when her eyes landed on Rafe.

He looked divine. She almost gasped. He had on these tight black jeans, the ones she remembered drooling over only a couple months ago when she thought he hated her. He had paired those dangerous jeans with an equally dangerous white button up. Except, he had unbuttoned a number of buttons at his collar so his chest was on full display. It was a hot night so she figured he had done it less for style and more because he was drunk and hot, but she wasn’t complaining. His chest, sweaty and muscular, was on display and now all she could do was ogle him.

Finally, her eyes returned to his face and she realized he was approaching her. There was a devious smirk on his lips, telling her he had seen what she was doing and she better prepared for a lot of teasing. Y/N glanced at Oliver, who had seemed oblivious, which made her breathe a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn’t have to endure his teasing.

When Rafe finally approached them, he hugged Oliver first. Y/N wasn’t offended. It had been her idea to wait to tell Oliver. She was unsure on how to broach the topic and Rafe, being the supportive boyfriend, had agreed. Y/N had to admit, for someone who never had a girlfriend, he was really good at being a boyfriend.

“How’s it going, dude?” Oliver yelled, pulling away from his friend.

Rafe smiled, shrugging. “Not too bad. Did you guys just get here?” His eyes didn’t move to Y/N, not even for a moment, which was more than Y/N could say. Her eyes had never left him.

Oliver looked to Y/N, nodding slightly. “Literally like two seconds ago.”

Rafe nodded, glancing at Y/N for a moment. His eyes seemed emotionless, almost as if he could care less if she was here or not. He seemed to be able to control himself more than she could. At least he wasn’t drooling at the sight of her. It only made her a bit self-conscious, considering how much time she had put into her outfit. She was wearing a mini floral white dress, stopping right above her knees with her white sneakers. She had bought this dress just for tonight, something she hadn’t even done for Daniel. She felt a little stupid now, considering how nonchalant Rafe seemed.

“Hey.” Rafe finally spoke, his eyes on her. He seemed completely emotionless, his face calm.

“Hi.” Y/N squeaked out, finally looking away and at Oliver. “I have to use the bathroom. I’ll be back.”

Oliver shrugged. “Rafe and I gotta find our friends anyways. Text me if you need me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I think I’ll be fine.”

In truth, she wasn’t. Her throat felt dry and even as she left, she couldn’t even look at Rafe. It was all too much; the secrets and hiding her feelings. She knew this would have to end. She would have to tell Oliver soon, but she was nervous. She felt like she knew Oliver like the back of her hand, but she had no idea how he’d react to this. She was weighing her own happiness with her brother’s but she already knew which would win. She couldn’t live without Rafe. It was almost unbearable at this point.

She travelled up the stairs, passing drunk couples making out on the steps and friends giggling to each other. As she entered the bathroom, locking the door behind her, she looked at the messages on her phone. Some of her friends who were also at this party had been texting her and asking her where she was. She texted them back, saying she was in the bathroom and she’d find them soon. She didn’t want to put on a brave face and lie to them again tonight but she hoped it would be the last time. Maybe she will tell Oliver tomorrow. She’d sit him down and just tell him, and hopefully he’d be okay with it. It scared her beyond belief but she wasn’t about to risk her relationship with Rafe just to save her brother’s feelings. She wasn’t the same little girl she had been when she first met Rafe. She was different now and she could decide who she spent her time with. Oliver would just have to come to terms with that.

Suddenly, as she washed her hands, there was a knock on the door. It wasn’t a loud knock, but a soft one. She almost thought she didn’t hear it since it wasn’t much louder than the water running out the facet. She rolled her eyes slightly, thinking it was just another drunk teen in need of the bathroom.

“Just one second!” She yelled. Although the music was quieter upstairs, she knew the person on the other side wouldn’t be able to hear her.

Suddenly, someone hammered their fist against the door, startling Y/N. The person, whoever they were, seemed impatient and in a rush, which only annoyed Y/N more. She responded and had been polite, could they not just wait? Suddenly, they banged on the door again and this time Y/N yanked the door open, ready to tell off whoever it was on the other side.

With her face burning with anger, she screamed. “Who the fuck -”

When her eyes met his, her voice halted at the back of her throat. Rafe Cameron stood on the other side of the door. The man she had greeted downstairs seemed to be a completely different person than the one that was standing in front of her now. His chest rose and fell rapidly as if he was out of breath. His eyes were narrowed as if he was on a mission and she was the target. Her eyes glanced down at his chest and when her eyes returned to his, there was a small smirk on his lips.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Rafe breathed, almost exasperated.

Y/N frowned, confused for a moment. “What?”

Rafe stepped over the threshold of the door, slamming the door closed. Before Y/N could process any of his movements, his hands grabbed the sides of her face and he pulled her to his lips. Although she loved any kiss Rafe gave her, a small part of her secretly desired these types of kisses the most. Whenever it got heated between the two, he would kiss her like this. He would devour her. He seemed possessed, his heavy breaths signalling to her that he would fall apart at any moment. Although she often took charge when kissing him, these kisses were reserved for him. When he kissed her like this, she let him win. She let him have the power when he kissed her like this.

Y/N heard the click of the door locking but she could care less, her mind focused on Rafe. She had no idea where this came from but she indulged in it and hoped he’d never stop. She had to almost stifle a moan when he lightly bit onto her bottom lip and carefully tugged on it. She couldn’t help it and she almost instinctively ground her hips onto him. When he kissed her like this, her body reacted before her brain did.

Rafe pulled away for a moment, his mouth still against her. “What are you doing to me?”

Y/N smirked, her arms coming to wrap themselves around his neck. “I have no idea what you mean.”

Rafe rolled his eyes. While one hand rested on her backside, the other came to play at the hem of her dress. “Are you trying to kill me?”

Y/N shrugged. “Maybe.”

Rafe chuckled. “Well, I’ll die a happy man.”

Y/N giggled, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek. Her lips remained in the same place, even as she spoke. “I could say the same for you.”

Rafe pulled away to see her face and he had a smirk on his lips again. “Oh, I could tell. You’re not really good at hiding your emotions, stalker.”

The nickname no longer hurt her but it continued to make her blush. “Not my fault my boyfriend looks so beautiful.”

Rafe chuckled, throwing his head back slightly before looking back at Y/N. “You’re kidding me, right? I had to basically stare at Olly because I was scared, he’d see my mouth falling open.”

Y/N, feeling very bold, stepped back from Rafe and sat her bum on the flat surface right beside the sink. Without thinking, she uncrossed her legs, revealing the white underwear she had worn in hopes that Rafe would see them. “Why don’t you put that mouth to good use, Cameron.”

Rafe instantly dropped to his knees; his eyes trained on her core. Rafe Cameron had not eaten out many women, mostly because he was a shy lover. He frequently found himself blushing when he was with a girl, his cheeks turning red at the smallest action. Although the same could be said when he was with Y/N, it was also completely different. He felt confident when he was with her. She held his heart in her hands and that turned him on beyond belief. He’d do anything she asked, but she rarely had to request him to touch her pussy. Rafe did it because he wanted to. Because he loved every second of it.

Rafe’s fingers looped around the band of her underwear, roughly tugging them off. The second he had seen her that night, he had wanted her. It took all the self-control he had not to kiss her when he first greeted her. He couldn’t wait until they could kiss in public. Although Rafe despised PDA when it concerned any other couple, it didn’t include him. He remembers finding himself disgusted with couples before he was with Y/N. He had thought what they were doing was absurd but now that he was with her, he understood the appeal all too well. To kiss Y/N whenever he pleased was something he had been waiting his entire life for.

Rafe kissed the inner skin of Y/N’s thigh, his eyes looking up at her. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

Y/N smirked, one hand coming to Rafe’s hair and tugging on it slightly. “Rafe, please…”

Rafe smirked, kissing closer and closer to her core. “You have me wrapped around your fucking finger, darling.” He lifted her dress up higher and kissed her hip bone this time, teasing her. “You got me on my fucking knees, and still, you’re begging me for more.”

Y/N giggled, a bemused grin across her lips. She gave him a teasing stare, her eyes just as playful as his. “Wrapped around your finger, huh? Wonder what I could make you do?”

“I’d do anything.”

Although there was a lightness in his tone, it never reached his eyes. Instead, his eyes bore into Y/N’s with such intensity and sincerity that Y/N’s breath fell short for a moment. All that could be heard for a few moments was the heaviness of each of their breaths. Rafe’s eyes finally trailed down her body to her legs once more, his intense gaze never relenting.

If he was serious about his confession, Y/N already knew what she’d ask of him.

Y/N moaned breathlessly, her hip lifting to meet Rafe’s lips. “Please… I need you.”

Rafe smirked. “Need me to what?”

Y/N pouted, rolling her eyes. “I need your mouth on me.”

Rafe’s eyes darkened, his smirk remaining. His eyes never left hers, even as his tongue explored her core. Y/N was a mumbling mess, her fingers holding onto Rafe’s hair for dear life. She threw her head back against the mirror, a low moan starting in the back of her throat. She closed her eyes for a moment, the feeling of Rafe’s mouth against her core seemed to be the only thing she could focus on. Although she was usually in control, it all vanished from her when he did this. She got lost in how he made her feel, usually the only words being able to escape her mouth were soft whispers of his name.

But just her legs began to shake and she felt the rise of her orgasm, Rafe pulled away completely and stood back up. He positioned himself in between her legs, a small smirk on his lips. Y/N frowned for a moment, her core unbelievably sensitive and not used to being left unfinished. Even as Rafe pulled her in for a kiss, she pouted against his lips.

“Rafe…” She whined as he pulled away.

While her fingers played with the loops of his jeans, Rafe’s hands rested against the sides of her face. Rafe chuckled at her whines, her desperation only fuelling his desire. Sometimes he got nervous but it helped to know she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

“Shut up, stalker. I can’t believe you’re so obsessed with me.” It was only a small joke but it made Y/N blush nonetheless. It only turned Rafe on more though.

“Says the man that was just on his knees for me.” Y/N chided, pulling Rafe closer to her chest by the loops of his belt.

Rafe gave Y/N a chaste kiss, his eyes focusing on the heat radiating off her cheeks. “Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

“No, not nearly enough.” She giggled, her hair falling in front of her face as she spoke.

“Hm.” He remarked, brushing the hair from her face. “I could say it all the time and it still wouldn’t be enough.”

Y/N rolled her eyes, the same blush remaining on her cheeks. “You’re whipped, Rafe Cameron.”

Rafe smirked, knowing she was right but too embarrassed to admit it. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

Y/N smirked, finally giving in and kissing Rafe forcefully. Surprisingly, Y/N was the more dominant one in the relationship. Before she began dating Rafe, she just assumed he had always been the dominant one in his relationships. He certainly presented himself as this cocky asshole, who she assumed loved bossing his girlfriends around. She had believed this for many reasons.

Firstly, he had teased her relentlessly the entire time they had known each other and she had interpreted this as harshness rather than flirting. Secondly, he was a complete jock in high school. He had been on their school’s swim team and had been one of their school’s best rugby players. Girls flocked to him, anxious to even get a wink from him in their general direction. It had always made Y/N jealous, and it didn’t help that he seemed to relish in the attention many girls gave him. It was one of the reasons she was against showing him any affection. The one time she had when they were younger, he had laughed in her face. Y/N had grown up thinking Rafe was this macho womanizer, incapable of compassion.

The reality was much different. Although it was true that Rafe could be proud, he was much more than that. She had now seen another side of him, especially when they slept together. If anything, he was the exact opposite when it came to sex. Although he was always eager have sex, he was definitely the less dominant one and thought of Y/N’s pleasure more than his own. If she wanted him to do something, he was more than willing to. Rafe might be dominant in OBX’s social circle, but he was completely submissive when it came to Y/N.

Rafe whined, the feeling of Y/N’s hands clinging onto his belt loops making the ache in his stomach grow. “Baby, please…”

Y/N chuckled, pulling away from Rafe slightly to smile. “What?”

Rafe frowned, kissing her lips softly before he spoke again. “Let me fucking feel you.”

Y/N smirked, this time moving her hands away from his belt and instead undoing the button on his jeans. “Want me that badly?”

Rafe kisses her again, moaning softly as he feels her hands against his boxers. “You already know the answer to that.”

Y/N continued to smirk, her heart fluttering at Rafe’s words. No one had ever been this passionate towards her before and she’d be lying if it didn’t make her love Rafe even more.

Love.

There was that word again. She had caught herself thinking it so many times before and she had to physically stop herself from saying it aloud. She could never say it with Daniel and they had been dating far much longer than she was dating Rafe. Yet, she felt it so strongly. She tried to remember her mother’s words about the anguish and false hope of young love but with each growing day, she felt her love for Rafe grow. Although she had only been dating him for a month, she had known him for far longer and the word love had echoed in her mind since she first laid eyes on him. Most of the time, she could control herself and refrain from speaking it aloud, but this time it stumbled from her mouth as if her lips had decided to say it before her brain did.

“I love you.” It came out as a giggle, passing her lips so quickly she had almost believed she never spoke it at all.

But when Rafe pulled away, shock and awe on his face, she knew he had heard her. She can see the colour drain from his face and she’s aware that she is mirroring him. She’s just as shocked as him. She had never said this to a friend before, let alone a boyfriend. There’s a moment where she can physically feel her blood pumping in her veins and she’s sure that means she’s about to have a heart attack. Especially since Rafe has yet to say anything either. His mouth is slightly agape, the usual blush on his cheek nowhere to be found.

“What?” He whispers, and although the music is loud, she can hear him clear as day.

Y/N gulps, her throat dry. She can feel the tears in the back of her eyes and she tries to blink them away. “Uh, I’m sorry.” She knows she can’t deny what she’s said, that would be a mistake. Instead, she begins apologizing. “I didn’t mean -”

“Y/N…” Rafe begins, his hands coming up to the sides of Y/N’s face to soothe her.

It’s no use though, because Y/N is spiraling and she can’t hear a word he’s saying. “It’s way too soon, and it was a mistake. I’m such an idiot --”

But before Y/N can even finish her sentence, Rafe’s hands pull her face closer to his and he kisses her. At first, he’s just pressing their lips together to shut her up, but when she finally realizes what he’s trying to do, she deepens the kiss. She’s too flustered to kiss him properly so she gladly lets him take charge. He’s kissing her passionately, and soon, as their kiss comes to a close, she realizes his lips are trembling. Then, when they pull a part and she gets a proper look at his face, she realizes his eyes are welling with tears. Rafe Cameron is about to cry.

“Rafe -” She begins, unsure of what to say. At first, she thought he would be disturbed at her premature confession of love, but now she’s not so sure. He seems to be holding back tears and she thinks that may be a good thing. “Are you okay?”

“Okay?” He laughs, his hands dropping to her waist as he blinks away tears. “Are you kidding?”

Y/N frowns, unsure of what to say. She did not think he would react this way. She thought, if anything, he’d joke with her and be his usual cocky self. Now, she’s not so sure. “You’re not weirded out?”

Rafe smirks. “Weirded out? Why would I be weirded out?”

Y/N shrugs, feeling a little silly now that she knows his reaction wasn’t what she thought. “I don’t know. I wasn’t sure if you felt the same way.”

Rafe rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly. “Ya know, for a smartass, you can be so dumb.”

Y/N smirked, more than happy he was teasing her again. She knew that had to be a good sign. “What do you mean?”

“Have the years of pining not shown you how much I love you?” Rafe chuckled.

Y/N blushed, her eyes moving from his face to her hands. She was slightly embarrassed, to say the least. In all the times Rafe had spoken about his crush on her, he had never used the word pining. Pining seemed a bit dramatic. When her eyes returned to his face, there was a look of devotion in his eyes so strong it made her heart pound in her chest.

“You have no idea how much I’ve thought about you. How many times I’ve dreamt --” he pauses, taking a breath and reaching out to play with the ends of her short sleeve, “how many times I’ve dreamt about being this close to you.”

The smile on Y/N’s face is brighter than ever. Her arms reach around his body and pull him into a hug. She can’t believe this is her life now. For so long, she thought she would never feel this way for anyone, let alone her brother’s best friend. Yet, here she was, in love with the prince of OBX.

When Rafe and Y/N finally emerge from the bathroom, forty minutes have passed. Neither of them seem to care though as they kiss one last time before parting for the night. The top floor is deserted by this time so they feel more comfortable sharing a short kiss in this hallway. Y/N figures she won’t see him for the rest of the night so she kisses him for longer than she usually does. She knows she’ll miss him. Although she’ll be with her friends and she loves them dearly, she will still miss Rafe. Hopefully, she won’t have to conceal their relationship for much longer. She promises herself that she will tell Oliver tomorrow. This confession of love they shared has forever changed her. She loves Rafe and she won’t sacrifice that for anything.

When they pull apart, there’s a gleam in Rafe’s eyes and she’s not exactly sure what it means.

“Rafe.” she sighs, her eyes teasing him.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Why are you staring at me like that?”

“Because I’m obsessed with you.” Rafe smirks, kissing her forehead quickly.

Y/N smirks, a giggle falling from her lips. “You don’t say?”

Rafe shrugs, finally letting go of Y/N. His body instantly yearns for her touch again but he knows he has to find his friends before they come looking for him. “I’ll see you later, stalker.”

Y/N blushes. “If you’re lucky.”

When Y/N finally meets up with her friends, they have a million questions. They ask her where she’s been and who she was with, and although she doesn’t answer them, they all seem to know that a certain someone was keeping her away from her friends. Y/N doesn’t tell them about Rafe just yet. She knows she will have to eventually, but she wants Oliver to be the first person she tells. Not only because he’s her brother, but also because she doesn’t want someone to accidentally tell him before she even gets the chance.

“Hey guys!” Y/N exclaims as she enters the circle her friends have created. She knows from the texts in their group chat that they’ve been standing in a circle for over an hour, talking and drinking, so it wasn’t too hard to find them. Most of Y/N’s friends were not the dancing type.

“Nice of you to finally join us!” Joey, one of her close friends, exclaims. "What have you been up to?"

Y/N shrugs, the heat from her cheeks growing stronger. “Nothing, just with Olly.”

Some of Y/N’s friends share a look, and Y/N knows that they don’t believe her. Y/N is incredibly nervous from lying. She knows how bad she is at it, so she looks to Joey for support. Joey has always stuck up for her, especially when Y/N needed to get away with a lie. This time though, some of her friends were smirking at her.

Joey takes a slow sip from her drink before speaking, a sly smirk still present on her lips. “Hm, that’s interesting because we saw Olly five minutes ago and he was asking where you were. Apparently, he hadn’t seen you all night.”

Y/N’s face drops. “That’s, uh, weird.” Y/N hadn’t thought up a good enough lie so she opted to just stand there baffled for a moment. She knew her friends could tell she was lying, but none of them decided to speak first.

Finally, Joey lifts her gaze back to Y/N. “Could Y/N, perhaps, have been with a boy?”

All of Y/N’s friends laugh, exchanging knowing glances. They obviously have no idea she was with Rafe Cameron, and Y/N’s sure she’d never hear the end of it if they knew, but they do know she had to have been with someone. Girls don’t tend to sneak off for one hour without letting their friends know where they are. Unless, that is, they’re sneaking off to see a romantic interest. Y/N’s smiles, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks. She wishes her friends weren’t so astute sometimes. It’d be easier to lie, that’s for sure.

“But seriously,” One of Y/N’s friends says as the rest of the group’s laughter quiets down, “where were you?”

Y/N cheeks are growing hotter and hotter by the minute. “Ah, nothing. I’ll tell you guys tomorrow.”

Just as Y/N finishes speaking, she feels someone place their hand on her shoulder. The hand is warm and somehow familiar but she jumps slightly. Although she’s not at all drunk, the adrenaline in her body from her encounter with Rafe has made her slightly jittery. Her eyes move away from her friends and glance down at the hand that is firmly placed on her shoulder. As she looks up, meeting the eyes of the person that scared her, relief floods her body.

It’s Olly and he’s wearing his signature goofy smirk. He seems a bit tipsy and maybe a little high but his eyes aren’t glassy so he’s sobered enough. Although Oliver seemed like the annoying jock who gets trashed every weekend, Y/N knows better than anyone that appearances can be deceiving. Oliver enjoyed having fun without substances most of the time, only drinking or smoking if he was particularly daring. Oliver didn’t need alcohol to have a good time. Most of the time, Oliver had the most fun just being his sober self.

“Where the hell have you been?” Oliver hangs his left arm around Y/N’s neck, momentarily bringing her in for a hug before pulling away. “I’ve been looking all over for you!”

The music is loud but Oliver is just close enough for Y/N to hear. “Oh, uh, I’ve been around.” Y/N awkwardly smiles, her eyes shifting from Oliver to her group of friends. They’re watching her interaction with Oliver intently. Some of them are even giggling at her response since it is obvious, she’s lying.

Oliver rolls his eyes, flicking Y/N’s cheek in an attempt to annoy her. “Who is he?”

Y/N gulps, her heart beating in her ears. This was not how she wanted to tell Oliver. “Uh, what?”

“Or is it a she?” Oliver smirked, shrugging slightly. “They?”

Y/N shook her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Oliver nodded; his eyes still gleaming. “Hey, I don’t judge. As long as you’re happy.”

Y/N rolled her eyes this time, getting annoyed with how playful he was being. “Shut up. I’ll tell you later.” That wasn’t technically a lie. She was going to eventually tell him, maybe even tomorrow.

This only encouraged Oliver. “Oh? So, there is something to tell?”

Y/N’s eyes glanced to the front door, which had remained open all night. It suddenly became her beacon, her lighthouse -- almost as if it was calling for her. She wanted to escape this uncomfortable conversation and she knew the only way to do so was to distract Oliver with the option to leave. During a party, if Oliver ever wanted to go home, he’d usually go bother Y/N. Tonight was no different. He was bothering her not because he actually wanted to know where she was, but because he was secretly hoping she would propose to leave.

Y/N eyes finally returned to Oliver, who had the same smug smirk on his lips. “Wanna go home?”

Oliver rolled his eyes, trying to look annoyed but Y/N could tell he was relieved at her suggestion. “Great job at changing the subject.”

Y/N rolled her eyes this time, her nerves calming as she sensed Oliver falling for the bait. “Yeah, yeah, let’s go.” She waved him away, turning to her friends and bidding them farewell. They had plans to meet up in a few days but they hugged each other as if this were the last time, they’d see one another.

As Y/N and Oliver began making their way throughout the Cameron household, relief washed over Y/N. She hoped that this would be the last time she would have to dodge Oliver’s questions. No matter what happened, she promised herself to tell him everything tomorrow. It was all becoming too much -- the secrets and half lies. Oliver had been nothing but a supportive, kind sibling to her. Yes, he could be annoying but that was only because he cared for her. She had heard horror stories from her friends about their brothers and it made her grateful to have a sibling like Oliver.

Just as they reached the threshold of the door, moments away from exiting the house and leaving this night behind him, a figure appeared in Y/N’s peripheral vision. At first, she ignored the figure, thinking it was just another teenager looking to party in this huge house. Unfortunately, that was not the case. Just as Y/N and Oliver reach the front door, Rafe Cameron steps out from the crowd and blocks the exit. There’s a beer in his hand, but Y/N knows it’s for show. Rafe actually hates beer and usually holds the bottle just for appearance. She knows he’s not drunk because she saw him thirty minutes ago when he confessed to her that he wouldn’t be drinking tonight. Besides, when she was kissing him, he had tasted like mint gum and citrus; a combination that drove her crazy.

“You guys are leaving already?”

His eyes only focus on Y/N for a moment and his face is calm as ever, not even seeming to register the fact that Y/N is in front of him. Y/N is baffled at how good he is at hiding his emotions. She wishes her emotions weren’t so evident, so noticeable. She could feel her eyes widen as she made eye contact with Rafe and she was unable to control herself. He just looked so good, if not better than when she saw him last. His hair, which was usually combed back, was now pushed to the front of his face and tousled at the top of his head. It looked as if someone had taken their hand and ran it through his hair, which she knew was the case. They hadn’t exactly looked in the mirror before they parted and now, she was beginning to regret it.

“Uh…” Y/N gulped; her words stuck in the back of her throat. She couldn’t stop looking at Rafe and his gorgeous hair.

“Yeah, we are.” Oliver said, glancing over at Y/N for a moment before continuing. “Y/N here is ready to go home. You know how she is.”

Rafe’s eyes finally meet hers again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I certainly do.”

Y/N has to force herself to look away, a small blush beginning to show on her cheeks. “Very funny.”

Although Y/N’s eyes remain on Oliver, her ears are perked at the sound of Rafe speaking once again. “Oh, well, I’ll walk you guys to your car.”

Oliver frowns a bit, clearly confused at the gesture. Y/N glances at Rafe for a moment but his eyes remain trained on Oliver. “You sure?”

Rafe shrugs, playing it cool. “Yeah, sure. I haven’t seen much of you tonight, Olly.”

Oliver nods, his frown slowly turning into a smile. He seems a little skeptical but he turns back towards the door anyways. Rafe follows after him and Y/N watches nervously as they both exit Rafe’s house. Soon, Y/N follows after the two of them, almost shocked at their entire conversation. She heaves a sigh of relief and for a moment, believing they’re in the clear. Rafe and Olly walk slower than Y/N, both of them in a conversation and too busy with themselves to notice Y/N walking past them quickly. As they walk further down the street and towards Oliver’s car, Y/N can’t help but listen in on their conversation as she leads the way.

“Where’s Sarah?” Oliver asks. Y/N can hear him digging around in his pockets for his keys, but Y/N doesn’t look behind her to see if he needs any help. She doesn’t want to give away the fact that she’s listening in on their conversation.

“Somewhere with John B, probably. Haven’t seen her all night.” Rafe replies, and Y/N almost snickers at the annoyance in Rafe’s voice.

She knows Rafe’s feelings towards Sarah’s boyfriend. John B and Rafe got along well, but now that he was dating Rafe’s sister, their relationship was tense. This only made Y/N frown, knowing full well Oliver could have the same reaction to Rafe and Y/N dating. She hoped that wouldn’t be the case but there was always that possibility.

“Speaking of which, where were you all night, bud?” Oliver questions Rafe calmly. For Oliver, that question should have a simple answer but the truth was way less simple.

“Oh, uh, you know. Around.” Rafe mumbles, and Y/N can almost hear the wheels turning in Rafe’s head as he tries to think of a good lie.

“Around?” Oliver snickers. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

Again, Oliver is joking and his line of questioning is completely harmless but the more questions he asks, the more tense Rafe and Y/N become. Y/N wants to turn around and change the subject but she knows doing that will only raise suspicion. Instead, she walks in front of Oliver and Rafe, the only sound being heard from her is her sneakers hitting the pavement. She promises not to speak, even if she really wants to. But then, before she can even register her misstep, Y/N tumbles forward and lets out a shriek. She’s tripped over her own laces and her promise of not making a sound has been broken. Thankfully, she doesn’t fall on her face and quickly regains her footing before she could embarrass herself any further.

“Y/N? You okay?” Oliver asks, dashing to her side.

“Oh, uh yeah.” Y/N sighs, her feet stopping for a moment to regain her breath. She had been so shocked from her slip that her breath had been caught in her throat.

“You sure?” Rafe asks, his hand reaching out for her. Y/N shudders at the contact of his hand against her elbow, the action alone calming her down.

She looks up at Rafe and for a moment, everything and everyone else disappears. “Uh, yeah. It’s just my shoelace. It came undone.”

Both Oliver and Rafe look down at the shoe on her right foot to see that it indeed was her shoelace that made her trip. While Oliver smirks at his sister’s clumsiness, Rafe bends down almost instinctively. Before Y/N can even object, he’s on his knees in front of her and he’s delicately tying her shoelace. For a moment, Y/N’s heart soars at the gesture and she wants to kiss him for being so cute. Even when they’re supposed to be pretending to not like each other, he still is willing to help her. She could’ve easily tied her shoelace herself, but Rafe doesn’t even let her consider doing it herself. His mind is consumed with Y/N, tying her shoelace is just another way he can show her how much he is willing to do for her.

When Rafe is done, he stays on his knees for a moment longer, looking up at Y/N with a sweet smile on his face. Y/N smiles back down at him, her cheeks growing hotter by the second. Rafe’s hand reaches out to touch her ankle, squeezing it slightly before pulling away and standing back up.

He towers over her, his eyes never leaving her face as he speaks. “There you go.”

Y/N bites her lip, completely forgetting that Oliver is watching their interaction. “Thanks.”

Y/N can see Rafe is about to say something else, but before he can even open his mouth again, Oliver interrupts them and their moment is shattered.

“What the fuck was that?”

Suddenly, the reality of what just happened came crashing down on Rafe and Y/N. They both turned their heads, watching in horror as Oliver’s face twists in disgust. Y/N heart jumps in her chest and she pulls away from Rafe quickly, her face hot with embarrassment. She can’t believe how reckless she just was. She had been so caught up in the moment, she had completely forgotten Oliver had a front row seat to their flirting. She tries to look Oliver in the eyes, hoping she can discern whether or not he truly understands what he just saw. Unfortunately, Oliver is staring straight at Rafe, his eyes never even glancing at Y/N.

“Olly, I -” Rafe begins. Y/N can tell he’s had the same realization as she just did, but it’s too late. Oliver has just witnessed them flirting and is starting to piece everything together. Before Rafe can even begin to speak, Oliver cuts him off.

“Why the fuck did you just do that?” Oliver is slightly tipsy but his anger and confusion is sobering him up greatly. Suddenly, his eyes flick up to Rafe’s hair and then his eyes finally glance at Y/N. “What the fuck is going on?”

“N-nothing!” Y/N shouts much too quickly.

“Really? Nothing?” Oliver rolls his eyes and Y/N can tell he’s starting to get pissed off. “Then what the fuck was that?”

“What do you mean?” Y/N asks, trying to be as innocent as possible.

“What do I mean?” Oliver repeats, his voice getting a bit louder as he continues. “Why are you blushing like a schoolgirl,” Oliver looks at Rafe, “and why are you looking at her like that?”

Y/N looks at Rafe for a moment and catches a glimpse of what Oliver means. Rafe is watching her like she’s the only person in the world. His eyes are glued to her and Y/N can basically see the hearts in his eyes. When Oliver points it out though, Rafe’s expression suddenly changes to a more embarrassed expression.

“I’m not.” Rafe denies, folding his arms over his chest.

“Olly -” Y/N begins, feeling her throat go tight at the mere thought of confessing everything to him. This was definitely not how she wanted to do it.

“Y/N, what the fuck?” Oliver is spiraling, his eyes shifting between Rafe and Y/N. “You both have been gone the entire night,” Oliver begins, thinking out loud to the two of them. “But I never -” He cuts himself off, realizing that he was about to lie. He had somewhat seen this coming.

Although he felt stupid for not realizing it sooner, he also knew Rafe had a small crush on Y/N years ago. He had a serious conversation with Rafe back then, laying down the law and making it clear nothing could ever happen between them. If they dated, they would eventually break up and Oliver would choose Y/N. He never wanted to make that choice between his best friend and sister, but he knew if he had to, he would choose Y/N. He never felt like he had to worry though. To Oliver, Y/N always seemed so disinterested in anything to do with Rafe. She always seemed annoyed at his very presence. Well, up until now. Now, Oliver was piecing the night together, starting with the fact that the two of them had not been seen by anyone the entire night.

“Olly, please.” Y/N began, her eyes stinging with tears. She willed herself not to cry, even though she felt beyond overwhelmed. “Just let me explain.”

“Are you two going out?” Oliver questions, his tone more surprised than irritated.

Y/N looked to Rafe for a moment, who wore a bewildered expression. This was not how he imagined their conversation going, and he was willing to agree with whatever Y/N said, even if she decided to lie about their relationship. Y/N knew she couldn’t do that though. She had lied to Oliver much too often these past months and she was so sick of it. Before she had begun dating Rafe, she always felt like she could confide in Oliver. Now, there were so many secrets between them that it felt as if their relationship was crumbling. She wouldn’t allow for that to happen so she knew what she had to do.

“Yeah, we are.” Y/N nodded, watching Oliver’s reaction carefully.

Maybe it was because of the alcohol in his system or the environment in which he found out, but Y/N could see the disgust written across his face. She knew that if he found out a different way, in a better and calmer environment, he definitely wouldn’t have had this reaction. Her heart sank, Oliver’s disgusted reaction telling her that this wouldn’t be easy.

“It’s basically incest!” Oliver cried, running his fingers in his hair. This was something he did when he was particularly distressed so Y/N knew this wasn’t a good sign. On the other hand, he was making a joke, however terrible it was, so that might have been a good sign too.

“What? No, it’s not.” Rafe argued, pulling his brows together in confusion.

“Uh, yeah. It kinda is.” Oliver argued. “We all grew up together, we’re basically related!”

“Except we’re not related.” Rafe frowned, taking a step closer to Oliver. He seemed like he was reaching out for Oliver, trying to calm down his friend. “Olly -”

Oliver pushed Rafe’s hand away, his eyes narrowing at his friend. “No, don’t you dare try to make me feel better. We had an entire fucking conversation about this and I was pretty clear my sister was off limits.”

Rafe sighed, nodding slightly. “I know.”

Oliver scoffed. “I don’t have many rules, dude, but I specifically remember saying that you couldn’t date my sister.”

Rafe looks to his feet, nodding again. “I know.”

“Like, dude,” Oliver continues to whine, “she’s basically a child.”

Although Y/N had been quiet during their entire argument, this comment riled something up in her. She was not a child, and she would not be treated like one. She could make her own decisions, and she didn’t need her brother to approve every single relationship she was in. Finally, as Rafe and Oliver continue to argue, Y/N steps in between them and finally glares up at her brother.

“Olly, this is not the nineteenth century. I don’t need your approval to date someone.” Her tone is harsh and it surprises Oliver a great deal.

“Y/N -” Oliver begins, but Y/N’s too pissed to let him continue.

“And I’m not a child. I’m old enough to decide who I like and I want to be with Rafe. It’s kinda fucked up that you made him promise not to go out with me anyways.” Y/N argues, her eyes never leaving the surprised expression of Oliver’s face.

“That’s fucked up? What about the fact that you’re fucking my best friend?” Oliver raises his voice, his surprised expression turning to one of anger.

“Whoa, Olly.” Rafe steps in between the siblings, a little annoyed at how crude Oliver is being right now. He’s trying to understand where Oliver is coming from so, he’s trying to be extra patient but he knows if anyone else was talking to Y/N like this, Rafe would be beating the shit out of them. “I know you’re upset, but don’t.”

Oliver rolls his eyes, laughing bitterly. “Upset? Yeah, you could say that. I’m fucking pissed that the two most important people in my life kept such a huge thing from me for, what, months?”

Oliver turns to walk away, feeling as though he needs some fresh air even though he’s already outside. He knows if he stays any longer, he’ll say something he’ll regret. Y/N wants to stop him and continue their conversation, no matter how brutal it is. Oliver has never been this mad at her before, and she knows it has to do with the fact that he’s scared to lose them. Y/N knows how loyal Oliver is and she knows he would always stay by her side, even if Y/N and Rafe were to break up. She knows he would sacrifice his relationship with Rafe for Y/N and it would devastate him. But Y/N also knows that her relationship with Rafe is stronger than ever and that it would never come to that. She just has to make him see it.

“Olly, where are you going?” Y/N yells, watching as her brother storms off.

“I need some space!” Oliver screams, looking back at Rafe and Y/N one last time before heading further and further down the street.

Y/N turns back to Rafe, suddenly feeling a few tears fall down her face. Rafe embraces her, feeling just as overwhelmed by their entire conversation. He wants to take on this burden himself and shield Y/N from all this confusion and pain, but he knows he can’t do that. Oliver is right in how he feels, even though Rafe doesn’t agree with him. Rafe rubs Y/N backs, trying to soothe her as she cries.

“What are we gonna do?” Y/N asks, looking up at Rafe.

Rafe uses his thumb to carefully wipe away some of the tears on Y/N’s cheek. “Don’t worry, I have an idea. But I have to do it alone.”

Oliver always brought Rafe to Figure 8’s beach whenever they had to have a hard conversation. They usually had them later in the evening, when the sun was setting, so Oliver could see the sunset and remain calm. When Oliver made Rafe promise not to date Y/N, they had that conversation at the same beach. Rafe still remembers it vividly, mostly because his heart never stopped beating through the entire conversation. He remembers gripping the coarse sand between his fingers, pressing his fingers further into the sand the more Oliver spoke. He could barely look at his friend throughout the entire conversation, only stealing glances when he was sure Oliver wasn’t looking. He still remembers the first thing Oliver said that night.

He had been uncharacteristically quiet when they met up with their other friends that night. It had been the same night Y/N had her first homecoming with Daniel. Rafe still remembers how he felt when he saw her in that beautiful green dress. He felt light-headed; like he was high off the sight of her. She had barely looked at him; almost as if she was making a conscious effort not to. He felt invisible to her, but he was almost glad she wouldn’t look at him. He remembers noticing the lack of material on her back. He gulped, realizing the green dress was backless. His eyes ghosted down the expanse of her back, lower and lower, until he saw her back dip into -

He remembers forcing himself to look away, counting to ten and thinking of a weak insult to throw her way. He tried to sound confident as he hurled it her way, but Oliver even noticed how pathetic his voice sounded. He almost seemed to be pleading with her. Pleading to end his suffering and just reject him so he could move on.

In reality, his suffering had only begun.

“Y/N looked nice tonight, don’t ya think?” Oliver had asked on the same beach years ago on the same night of Y/N’s homecoming.

Rafe instantly looked up, gulping at what seemed to be an innocent question. Unfortunately, Rafe knew his friend and he knew Oliver never spoke about his sister. “Uh, I guess.” He guessed. Rafe wanted to scream. He more than guessed she looked nice. She looked more than nice.

“Listen Rafe,” Oliver had begun, and it had instantly made Rafe’s heartbeat skyrocket. “I’m not blind. I see what’s going on with you. You’re my best friend, don’t think I don’t see what’s going on.”

Rafe never looked at him, he was too scared. He remembers bracing for Oliver’s fist but Oliver never punched him. He just sighed, continuing on with his speech when he realized Rafe was going to make no effort to defend himself.

“And I know that you can’t control who you like, but she’s my sister and you’re my friend. If you guys start anything, you’ll break up and I’ll choose her side over you. I’ll always choose her. So, please, don’t make me choose.”

Rafe clutched onto the sand, her anxiety bubbling over and his body shaking slightly. This had been the first time he had ever been called out for his feelings, by his best friend no less. All Rafe could do was nod along, his heart shattering slightly.

“I promise,” Rafe vows, “I’ll never make you choose.”

He had acted so coldly to Y/N that night she had returned from homecoming and he had thought he had been doing the noble thing. He pushed her away, just like he should’ve done, but his pushing had only pulled her closer to him. Every time he watched her or looked into her beautiful eyes; he fell harder. And soon enough, not even his promise to Oliver was enough.

As Rafe finally approached the same familiar beach, his eyes searching for his friend, a wave of nostalgia swelled within him. He had been here a dozen times with Oliver, but this time was different. Rafe and Oliver always made their way to this beach but tonight, Rafe was here alone to search for his angered friend. He had dropped Y/N off at her home and promised her to make everything right. She had been rightfully upset over how Oliver had found out about them and Rafe intended to make it right. He blamed himself, really. If he had just controlled himself for a moment, none of this would be happening.

It wasn’t that hard to find Oliver. The sun was rising in the west and Rafe quickly spotted him sitting on the sand, watching the sky as it turned a dark orange. Rafe waited for a moment, hesitating as he saw the sky. He had seen it many times before but this time was different. This time, the sun was rising with Oliver and Rafe’s friendship on the brink of disaster.

Rafe finally began moving again, finally approaching Oliver carefully. When he was five feet away, Oliver turned quickly with a deep scowl on his face. When he saw Rafe, it only deepened, which scared Rafe beyond belief. Oliver and Rafe had never fought, never disagreed, so Rafe was out of his element here. He didn’t know how to broach the subject, especially since Oliver was throwing daggers at him.

“Hey.” Rafe waved slightly, standing uncomfortably in front of Oliver. He didn’t know whether he should sit or stand. Depending on how angry Oliver was, Rafe might need to take a step back in a hurry.

“What?” Oliver frowns, looking back to the sea in front of him. The water was calm, barely moving even though there was a breeze. “Did Y/N tell you to come?”

Rafe shook his head. “No, I wanted to.”

Oliver cupped some sand in his hand and played with it slightly. Rafe watched his friend’s hands begin to shake and suddenly, Oliver spoke. “Why?”

There was no anger in his voice, only pain and in turn, it pained Rafe too. “I love her, Olly.”

Oliver chuckled, shaking his head. “God, I know that. Even Daniel knew that. I’m surprised my sister only recently figured it out.”

Rafe gave Oliver a confused look, watching Oliver’s head stare up at his friend. Rafe took a chance, sitting down beside his friend and letting the sand cushion him. “I’m sorry. I know I promised I wouldn’t make you choose, but I can’t keep pretending.”

Oliver shook his head. “You know what really sucks? If we hadn’t been friends, I would’ve loved for you to date her. I can tell you really care for her, and you deserve love, Rafe. You deserve it all, man. But not with her. Not with my sister.”

Rafe shook his head, indignant to Oliver’s comment. “What you don’t understand, Olly, is that I’ll never have it if it’s not with her. I’ll never find love if it’s not with her.”

Oliver finally looks at his friend, his eyes glassy. “You promised me you wouldn’t make me choose.”

Rafe nodded. “Maybe you won’t have to.”

Oliver rolled his eyes. “What? You gonna marry her?”

Rafe blushed, his mind flashing with images of Y/N in a white dress and his heart leaped to his throat. Rafe was young and rarely thought of marriage but whenever he did, the same girl was always his bride. “I don’t know.” Rafe answered honestly. “But I’ll tell you this; I’ve known Y/N for five years and I have yet to get tired of her. We’ve been together for three weeks and they’ve been the best weeks of my life. I can’t see myself without her. I’ll be here until she gets tired of me.”

Oliver’s features lift, his expression changing from anger to shock. Rafe continues to stare at his friend, at the guy who has changed his life. Not only by being his best friend, but by also introducing him to Y/N. “I’m not trying to be an asshole. I’m not some controlling maniac.”

Rafe nods, smiling a little. “I know. You’re just looking out for your sister.”

Oliver smiles back and this eases Rafe’s nerves. “I kinda always knew it, in a way.”

Rafe frowns, confused slightly. “Knew what?”

Oliver smirks. “That you guys would get together. Knew it the second you came over to my house for the first time.”

Rafe smirked. “Why? Because of how I was watching her?”

Rafe tries to remember that far back and he does. He remembers entering Oliver’s living room and seeing Y/N sitting on the couch, reading some book. He remembers watching her eyes glance over the words on the page and he remembers thinking that he had never seen someone make something so mundane look so beautiful.

Oliver shakes his head. “Nah, because she couldn’t keep her eyes off you.”

Rafe’s heart swelled. He wondered if this was truly real, if he was actually lucky enough to be loved by her. Rafe had not been lucky concerning many things in his life, but he felt like the luckiest man in that moment.

She's in his boxers, her clothes thrown mindlessly on the floor of his room. She'll leave behind an accessory and it will never leave his room again. It's a necklace, one she got from a farmers market. Its home will now be with him, because it's just another reminder that she was here. At some point, she was here and she wanted him. When he finally picks it up off the floor, he'll wear it around his neck, his fingers toying with the pendant whenever his thoughts drift to her. It wasn't an important necklace and she didn't even know it was missing. It was her necklace at one point and that was all he cared about.

He'll think it's rather pathetic. To hold onto something, she thinks is so meaningless. But he can't help it. Just like he can't help buying her extra chapsticks from the same company she likes so much and stuffing it in her pockets and purses, just so she always has one handy. In these small moments, as he secretly places another chapstick in the back pocket of her jeans, he realizes his dreams have turned into a reality. He loves her. He knows it to be true. He knows it when he hears her footsteps behind him, and his chest swells with joy at the mere notion she's nearby. He knows it when he catches a whiff of her scent, his cheeks turning red at the thought of her smooth skin. He knows it's premature, as young love tends to be. It's young and quick, like a momentary spark of light coming from a match. His brain pictures it as an ice cream sundae; a creamy and rich vanilla flavour topped with hot fudge. He can't get enough. He devours it, not even letting himself enjoy the taste before he has another mouthful. He craves more and more. And just when he thinks he's full, he asks for more.

So, when she looks at him and asks him what he's afraid of, he mumbles out the first thing he can think of. "Loving you too hard and regretting the quickness of it when I don’t have anything left of you.” He loves until he's nauseous because he loves her.

She only smiles at him, shaking her head at his ridiculousness. Doesn’t he know? “You’ll never lose me, silly. I’ll always be here.”

They shared loving smiles and Rafe felt as though his heart might explode out of his chest. He had never felt so in love before her, but to be honest, there had never been such a thing. There had never been a before with Y/N. He met her and that was it for him.

It all felt too good to be true. But here she was, in his arms, where she belonged.

tagging: @gillybear17 @pogueslandia @itsalexwin @goldenjo @totallynotkaibiased @whores-ocean @lokisthvr @fangirlfree @c0untryclub @tumblin-theworldaway @lovelyxtom

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