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#idk i just see that argument so much and it makes me so sad

heartslobbf · 8 months

Text

hater alert! far too many people say that juri’s character arc ‘isn’t about her being sad about being gay, it’s about being sad about unrequited love that happens to be gay’ and. well. that is not true and by saying that you are completely flattening the brilliance of juri’s character arc which literally culminates in her being able to accept her own lesbianism despite her unrequited love, despite all her shame and self-loathing, despite this pursuit by Some Fucking Guy to try and ‘save’ her from these feelings. like if you think juri’s entire character is just ‘sad about shiori’ how do you appreciate even a modicum of the emotion packed into that final juri duel. it is both about shiori and, even broader, her lesbian identity and what that means to her intrinsically as a person, removed from romantic relationships and just purely as like. you know. Who She Is. the idea that even when juri’s locket is cut from her neck she is still a lesbian that’s still who she is and she cant change that and, crucially, she doesn’t want to even as she is agonised by these feelings. that’s why she forfeits the duel!!!! she’s clocking out she’s quitting she’s saying no!!!!!! this is me and ive got to be ok with that this is me and i can accept that this girl might not love me and i can keep living despite that. like. god im so normal arisugawa juri im so sorry that no one understands you and your intrinsically unapologetically lesbian storyline like i do

#ok got that out of my system now (rewatched ep 29 duel too many times)#revolutionary girl utena #rgu #idk i just see that argument so much and it makes me so sad #bc i get where ppl r coming from there r a lot of unnuanced ‘sad bc gay’ narratives out there #but juri’s whole arc is about actively challenging and deconstructing that idea #and it deals with the sadness that comes with being closeted with knowing youre gay and not really liking that about yourself #and eventually she does accept and embrace that aspect of herself but CRUCIALLY she doesnt do it via romantic validation #in fact she does it in the face of like. All Opposition Ever #no one says hey juri if you were gay that’d be totally fine actually haha #ruka tries to save her from her lesbianism!!!!!!!! like!!!!!!!#it is juri and juri alone who makes this resolution and that is just So Fucking Important to me #shes so. she is the queer character of all time to me i literally dont care no one else will ever come close #LIKE!!!!!!! THE CASTLE WEEPING ON HER WHEN SHE MAKES HER CHOICE!!!!!!!#accepting that part of yourself and having the symbol of matrimony and heteronormativity WEEP over you #no one ever validates juri’s choice to accept her queerness but she keeps making that choice #and her in episode 37…….. god i just might keel over and die girls when juri utena touga parallels……#anywayyyyyyy love and light i love juriposting #shut up daisy

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lvlyghost · 7 months

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Hello do you take requests cause I had this idea in my mind but I suck in writing

how bout a ghost x reader where he had a bad day and takes it out on his beloved reader who he's been in a really long relationship with, by starting an argument and maybe saying some really mean and bad things that break the reader. Like the reader is only a shell of herself and completely ruined by ghosts words and just crying or sitting completely still staring off the wall or just staring at nothing just being numb.

What would be interesting is Simons reaction when he realizes the damage that he's done, maybe he would cry/break down idk when he sees the usually happy reader being so dull and almost lifeless yk

But Pleasee don't do this to our hearts and write some comfort and a happy ending please I couldn't handle too much angst❤️😭

The Weight of the World

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Reader

SUMMARY: You promised to always lean on each other but sometimes love isn't enough.

WORD COUNT: 1.5k

TW: heavy angst, literally got some mid anxiety writing this🥴 swearing, self-doubt, hurt-comfort and slight fluff towards the end. lmk if i missed any.

A/N: finished this in one sitting lol, also not proofread and poorly edited, i've been having a shitty week so expect more angst lol. meet me in therapy. Enjoy anon!🤍🌟🫶🏻💕

Masterlist✨

You hesitate right outside Simon's studio, the place where he secludes himself from everything and everyone. Ever since he came from his last mission he seemed to be on the edge constantly. The usual softness that he reserved specifically for you was... absent.

Still you wouldn't let that stop you from approaching; having dating him for a few years now let you know so much of that. You knew when he was hurting. When he was sad, angry, jealous or even happy. Little to no people could say that.

Somehow this was different. He wasn't even letting you in, constantly keeping you at arms length and that hurt. How were you supposed to get to him this time? Get him to talk to you?

To look at you again with that same glint in his eyes, the spark that you ignited in him and that won't fade away even years after.

The sound of a chair creaking startles you, the same time the timer in the kitchen goes off. You walk back, turning the oven off, and sticking out the apple pie you so happily baked for both with hopes that you'll get him loosen a bit that dark cloud that's been looming over Simon these past few days.

The door of his studio is yanked open the heavy stomp of his boots resonating across the small apartment you two share, then his bulky frame appears just to grab the keys to his black motorcycle.

"Simon!" You call him, burning your hand in the process. He stills halfway through the living room, waiting for you to say something else. Wetting a cloth hurriedly and wrapping it around the burnt skin.

"I made something for us... maybe," standing behind him you leave a reasonable space between the two. You swallow down hard. "Thought we could have it together and just, you know spend...-"

"I don't have time for that now." His voice is cold and monotone. "Don't wait for me."

"But Si-" he turns on his heels, eyes hard and unyielding. He approaches slowly, making you gulp. "What's gotten into you, Simon?" You fight back the tears, this was the man you loved so dearly, the man you knew loved you back; there was a reason for the golden engagement ring on your left hand. "I..-"

"Fucking hell would you stop that? Please just..." he notices the wetness in your eyes. "I can't do this. Not anymore."

"Whatever it is I promise we can work it out together!" your lips quivered. "Just talk to me!"

"I don't need to talk about anything girl!" He seethes, one finger pointing at you. "Think some cheap counseling with you will make things right? Bloody hell no. Neither some homemade bread, this isn't fucking working and it won't until you learn how the bloody world works."

It breaks your heart into a tiny million pieces, breathing becomes a challenge and the injury in your hand can no longer be felt. Simon's words were worse than any physical pain. Where was the man you loved? The man who used to lift you up and kiss you on the forehead? The man whose hands couldn't stop roaming your body late at night? The man who'd helped you reach out for things he probably put away in the highest shelf so you'd ask for help. That same man that had proposed to you no long ago, right before he was deployed to a special op God knows where. The fabric of his mask moves when he keeps talking but you don't listen. You can't. Just like you can't stop the tears dribbling down your cheeks and the tremble of your hands. Simon's jaw clenched, brows furrowed as he takes a step back and leaves.

You walk sluggishly to where the dessert awaits. It's when your knees buckle that you finally let out a loud cry.

Simon knows he isn't a good man. He's done quite questionable things that he could never say out loud. He knows he's fucked in so many ways. But he also knows that there's one thing that kept him from spiraling further down into an abyss of death and self-loathing.

You.

The woman he decided he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. The girl that didn't care about his past, the bad moments and his complicated persona. You who would selflessly love him without asking for something in return. What had you seen in him in first place? Even now after three years he can't wrap his head around the fact that he has someone who waits for him.

Simon knows how much he loves you, but what he doesn't know is how—or in what earth—he deserves every part of you.

You've been avoiding him ever since that horrible night. Words he can't take back. Looks that haunt him every time he closed his eyes. He hears you cry when you go to sleep or when you're taking a shower. Muffled sobs and wails that will come for him until the day he dies.

You avoid him like a plague, when he walks in. After all he's the one to blame. He wanted to ask you to tear him apart maybe that'd feel less painful.

The last remaining of sanity that was left in him came crashing down when he began to notice how you stared off in a haze, numbly looking at the window. He was losing you. Destroyed the one good thing he had. So, a few days later, despite his own demons. Despite the things that broke him all irreparably during the last mission in Moscow, he comes to find you. Sucking in a sharp breath as his eyes set on your left hand.

The engagement ring was gone, forgotten someplace unknown. Simon felt the panic wrenching his guts.

It's all on him.

He whispers your name, calls you softly. Slowly sitting in front of you, the coffee table creaks under his weight. Words get caught in his throat.

"May I take your hand?" He pleads, not getting an answer. Simon sighs, lowering his head as silent reigns yet again. "I don't deserve you." He murmurs, eyes bored into the floor. "I... I ruin everything I touch. Just never thought I'd ruin my girl."

Your eyes flutter shut, wet tears clinging to your eyelashes. Simon watches as you stand and leave without a word, he follows close behind to your shared room.

"Love..."

"Don't call me that!" the hurt in your voice... the resentment in your eyes, he's earned it.

Simon reaches out for your arm, grabbing you firmly but gently, mindful not to harm you.

"Right I deserve that." If there's one thing Simon regrets it's being the reason that your eyes no longer shine. "What I said... what happened I...-"

Shaking your head and biting down your lip.

"You never gave me the chance, I thought we said we'd always find a way."

"I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry baby." in an instant he's pulling you close, although you want to push him away, scream at him, slap him for the calvary he made you go through. "I'm not good with words, and I'm no good person." You feel his body shaking with anxiety as your eyes widen in shock. "I tried... I can't forgive myself for my mistakes."

"Simon..." he hushed you, cradling your head with his big hand. "I can't sleep knowing I can't protect you from what's out there, couldn't bloody protect that kid in Moscow, or my family."

You guide him to the bed, sitting down side by side and holding onto each other.

"Said I would always be with you Simon, why the hell did you push me away?! Have I not given my everything to you? We promised to always make it work!" He grabs your face staring intently into your eyes. "What happened there?"

He blinks, deciding how much to say. There was no need for you to know the entirety of it. He wanted to shield you from the horrors of this world, and he would as long as he lived.

"A young lad whose life's was cut short because I wasn't there on time. How can I come back to you, be happy when someone else just lost their kid..."

"That wasn't on you! Simon Riley you stop that now." He inhales, cinnamon and vanilla flooding his senses. It's you all of you. "Stop carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. We do that together, yeah?" Your chest hurts from how hard it's beating. "You've done far so much. You won't lose me."

A rumble in the sky and cars passing by outside your home is all you hear. Brown eyes like honey stare back into your soul.

"You took it off..."

"I burnt my hand, it wasn't healing properly. And you know what?" He quirks a brow. "It wasn't homemade bread. It was an apple pie, you silly."

"You'll never forgive me for that one won't you?" He doesn't chuckle but the air feels lighter.

"No. Probably won't." Simon takes your burnt hand bringing it to his lips, they're soft against the marred skin.

"But we're still getting married, yeah?" He asks.

You smile fondly, humming when he kisses your forehead, tears have now dried.

"Yeah. We're still getting married."

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angelwithdemonictendencies · 1 month

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i'd sigh in bliss, even while drowning, if only it was your hand holding me under; your kiss is the most violent death i've ever known.

qh43 x reader: let's take this bitter tension on the water, shall we?

(warnings: blasphemous filth, unprotected penetrative sex (m on f), fingering, hair pulling (have you guys seen his hair, recently?), choking (it's really been too long. too many nice guys), talking (he brings out the best in me), tears (or the worst idk), lots and lots and lots of miscommunication and tension and being kinda mean, obviously i'm forgetting things but all my usual stuff. please be warned, don’t read if you’re not 100% sure.)

(a/n: thank you for waiting, my favorites. i give you qh43 x doll (on deck). this idea has taken me a long time to flesh out, with lots of work and outlining and such, so i really hope you enjoy. i told myself it was going to be short and it ended up being 16.5k, because i have no self control. i guess i was just in the mood to write angst-filled argument after angst-filled argument, given all the sweet boy content i've been putting out recently (don't worry, that will be back soon enough). and qh43 is my go-to for the sad stuff, for the fights and kisses in the rain (literally, this time). can you tell i was listening to taylor's is it really over? way too much and thought... what if it wasn't? over, that is? obviously, none of this makes any logistical sense, you guys know this. thank you for reading anyways. let's see, what else? loving the nico slut headcanon i'm committing to. also love a good mt19 gap-tooth takeover (is he not the perfect cruise ship fling?). and luke is here, too, for all the people telling me to write for him. i'm sorry, i know the miscommunication trope is frustrating and the one-bed trope is cliche. please, for the love of god, take this as a sign to be clear with people about how you feel. life is too short. i have like one billion baby stories started right now, so we will see for which inspiration proves most fruitful. will it be golf pro cc22 x bevcart girl? geology ta js1 x classics ta? the tj17 one i've been trying to finish forever? none of the above? we'll see. pretty, pretty please, tell me what you think. go canucks (dare i say cup-bound), tell your snakes i love them. until next time. love, always).

as much as you wanted to be completely and purely excited for this little excursion, as much as you wanted this to be a truly undiluted celebration of your best friend's wedding next weekend, something was standing in your way.

"c'mon," the bride-to-be, savannah, said, standing on the pier next to you as you gazed out at the obscenely massive cruise ship, its numerous windows like the eyes of a spider, much too many and much too close together, "you've worked so hard, babe." she gave you a tight side-hug, which you returned. "you've made this whole process so easy, hm? let loose for a weekend, and then, i promise, you can go right back to being the militant maid of honor you are."

you let out a short laugh, let your shoulders settle back into place. "thanks for this weekend, sav," you said. "it's gonna be great." she was right, of course, in some ways, and wrong in others.

you had worked hard, very, very hard, because you cared about savannah, loved her like a sister, and you wanted her wedding to be one of dreams. you liked jack, her fiance, a lot, too, and you liked them together, saw how they brought out the best in each other.

it had been months of making sure everything during the planning process went over smoothly, of being there for savannah when the world felt like it was ending, when the pressure of a wedding felt like it was insurmountable.

when bridesmaids had a little too much to say about their dresses, or when family members had a little too much to say about their hotel arrangements, or when savannah herself had a little too much to say about how it just had to be perfect, you were there, mitigating the worries and stressors and potential problems.

it had been a rewarding but draining couple of months.

savannah had seen that, had appreciated you even more because of it, so her and jack had planned this mini-vacation as a thank you for both of their wedding parties. the big day was next week, so this was supposed to be a final relaxing deep breath before the inevitable whirlwind of white lace and dress shoes and pink flowers.

and it would be relaxing, you were sure of it, you wouldn't let it not be, if only because your best friend wanted it to be so adamantly. it would be a perfect weekend vacation, the perfect cruise getaway, the perfect source of pre-wedding bliss.

it would be, it would be all of these things, as long as you stayed as far away from quinn hughes as was humanly possible.

the brother of the groom, the best man, your counterpart in the wedding, whom you had been fairly successful in avoiding whenever possible, all things considered. you'd been in the same friend group for years, after all, since the end of college. years of averted glances, charged comments that you pretended to ignore, of memories that left your cheeks hot and anger hotter.

you hadn't had a major blowout with him yet, and you were confident enough in your self-control to believe you wouldn't start now. you'd never been confined on a boat with him before, though, hadn't been stuck in a room with him without an escape plan, so that would present a new challenge.

what was every day in the periphery of quinn, though, if not a new challenge? a challenge more devastatingly taxing with each passing moment?

as you and your best friend boarded the ship together, you hoped that you could postpone seeing him for as long as possible. maybe if you stayed in your room the whole weekend, you wouldn't have to see him at all. wouldn't that be fun?

savannah dropped her stuff and told you she was going to find jack, leaving you to unpack your things and enjoy some moments of silence before what would surely be a tornado of a weekend.

unfortunately, as you folded your clothes and organized them in drawers, your mind wandered, with nothing to focus on but your anxieties. your anxiety, personified, in a broad, shaggy-haired, soft-featured best man.

you sighed, as you often did when you thought of quinn, because no, it hadn't always been this way. there had been a single, lovely, dreamy night during which the two of you hadn't hated each other. quite the opposite, actually.

it felt sort of unfair that, even now, years later, he could still evoke such a visceral feeling in you, a kind of hatred you felt in your stomach, a kind of shame that rattled through your skull, a regret that set your chest ablaze. and as much as it pained you to think it, it felt sort of unfair that savannah was getting married to jack, because you had known quinn first. it had been you and quinn, first.

it had been you and quinn, both of you at the just-off-campus bar alone, waiting for your respective friends to show up. you had spotted him across the room, his pretty face made so angelic by the hazy neon light. he had spotted you too, had been so unapologetic about letting his gaze settle in the pockets of your exposed collarbones, then flickering up to meet your careful eyes slowly, heatedly.

it had been you and quinn, in a back booth, once he'd bought you a beer and motioned for you to join him, a precise but easy tilt of his head in invitation. on that waxy bench seat, as time passed, you grew much closer together than you could have made a real excuse for, until the outside of your thigh was pressed up against his, until he angled his shoulder back so you could lean your side on his chest, until there was really no question as to where the night was going to go. where it was going to end.

until he rewrote the script you'd assumed into place, too, because when you talked with him for that hour or so, drinks practically forgotten on the table, friends absolutely forgotten, he wasn't like the one-night-onlys you'd had in the past.

he was pretty, sure, almost embarrassingly so, but he spoke to you so gently, with such care, it stunned you.

when he asked you about your day, you were shocked to find completely genuineness in his gaze.

when you asked about his friends, when they were showing up, you couldn't help but feel a little endeared by his short laugh. "athletes," he told you, then, "most unreliable people on the planet, doll, swear it."

it had been you and quinn, basically melting into each other, in that booth, and it had been you and quinn, at his place, after. when you'd discovered that he tasted like something citrusy, maybe grapefruit, from whatever he'd been drinking, when you'd felt his rough hands on your face, your hips, when his voice had grown low and husky and brutal, barely pausing for even a moment when he pushed into you for the first time, so overwhelmingly deep and hard.

he'd been so gentle, yet undeniable, so tender, but he'd said things that now made you blush.

he'd been the best fuck of your life, somehow also the kind of person you'd truly, genuinely, been able to see yourself developing a relationship with. you'd thought he was a once in a lifetime kind of person.

you'd left his place early that morning to get to class, kissed his shoulder softly in goodbye while he slept soundly.

little did you know that, that next night, savannah would meet jack, who was out with quinn. as such, savannah would introduce you to jack.

"this is my brother, quinn," jack would say to you, eventually, and your eyes would soften at the sight of him as you turned.

you would open your mouth to say something along the lines of oh, we've already met, but then quinn would extend a hand to you.

"nice to meet you," he'd say, stony, cold, and you'd narrow your eyes, search his gaze for anything humorous, come up empty. surely he remembered you, right? it was almost worse to imagine that he did remember, that he just didn't want his brother to know about you. it was almost worse to imagine that he thought you were something to be hidden.

so you'd swallow a breath that felt like a forbidden pill, stare at his outstretched hand with something like disgust.

"yeah, you too," you'd bite out, your hands remaining at your sides, hoping his empty hand felt awkward enough to hurt. "really nice."

so, as much as it had been you and quinn, starry-eyed in a back booth, as much as it had been you and quinn, tangled up in each other as your eyelids grew heavy with sleep, as much as it had been you and quinn, first -

it had also been you, embarrassed and ashamed, and quinn, expressionless and indifferent.

so, what did that night really matter, however life-altering you had thought it to be? he obviously didn't feel the same way. you obviously meant nothing to him.

you had thought that to be a very disappointing end to a chapter. you were ready to move on, but, of course, savannah and jack only grew closer. of course, your friend groups merged. of course, it seemed like you couldn't go more than a few days without an especially painful reminder of exactly how much you weren't wanted, exactly how mistaken you had been.

it had been several years now, and you'd gotten a little better at hiding your feelings, sure, but you wouldn't describe your relationship with quinn as civil. certainly not amicable.

you were both known to have an especially short temper when it came to the other, to become inexplicable hot-headed in their presence. still, no one, not even savannah, you assumed not even jack, knew exactly why. they just assumed you didn't get along. that you were just completely incompatible as people, probably.

now, you took a deep breath, putting the last of your clothes away, zipping up your suitcase and stowing it under your bed. you wouldn't let him ruin this trip for you, you decided in a moment. you would be kind, and lovely, and you'd enjoy the time with your best friends. everything was going to be fine. everything was going to be perfect.

this was the mindset you were carrying with you when you finally made to join everyone else on the deck for a welcome happy hour.

you quickly spotted your group, immediately locking eyes with your other best friend, lexi, who must have just arrived.

she squealed and pulled you in for a hug. "it's been too long," she whined, and you laughed.

"i missed you," you said, and you meant it. for the longest time, it had been you, savannah, and lexi, a trio for the majority of your time at university. guys came and went (for the most part), your circle expanded into friends from classes and clubs and sororities and such, but the three of you were inseparable.

it still felt weird that you didn't get to see them every day, with all of you at different places, some working, some in school. it felt weird that the real world still spun even if you three weren't cackling on the way into a lecture, whispering about lacrosse boy when he walked into a party, whining about midterms in the dining hall. it felt weird to grow up.

"i want to hear about school," you said as you pulled away from her embrace. "tell me everything."

"what, no hug for me, eh?"

you rolled your eyes, immediately recognizing that overconfident voice as jack's best friend.

"hello, nico," you said, sugary-sweet, mustering up a smile. "how's daddy's money treating you?" you didn't like nico, not really, found that he hadn't changed at all since school.

nico wasn't like quinn, though, he never took what you said in a heavy way. he just laughed, and his eyes shone with it. "business is thriving, thanks for asking," he said.

"so humble," came quinn's grumbly voice, somewhere on the line between light-hearted fun and genuine disapproval. you wondered briefly if nico had any more luck reading quinn than you did.

"oh, that's what they say," nico responded, running a hand through his longer dark hair. "the humblest around."

you caught up with lexi about medical school, learned it was somehow even more draining than she expected.

"i wouldn't be able to tell for a second," you assured her, gesturing to your face. "you look insanely well-rested. glowing, practically."

lexi waved you off, but she looked pleased. "don't lie," she chastised, "i wake up everyday and look like i got run over by a truck."

she told you about her classes, and her classmates, and her professors, and you listened intently, always interested to hear about situations you had no experience in.

"sounds hectic," you said, finally, blowing out a breath.

"eh, you know how it is," she responded with a shrug. just then, luke, jack's younger brother, arrived, looking especially disheveled, but you knew him well enough by now to understand that was just how he looked.

he was greeted with hugs and handshakes by everyone.

"you're so big, now," you said, almost teasingly, as you pulled him in for a hug.

he swatted at you, good-naturedly. "lay off, would you?" he said, but when he smiled it was genuine. "not a baby."

you knocked your hip against his, anyways. "happy you're here," you told him.

out of all of jack's groomsmen, you supposed luke was the clear frontrunner for your favorite. nico, the narcissistic playboy, was out of the running, and so was quinn, for obvious reasons.

even without those two, though, you'd developed a soft spot for the youngest of the hugheses. he was a couple of years your junior, but surprisingly mature and well-spoken. he was into football, like you were, too, and had invited you to join his fantasy league before he even knew you that well. now, years later, he came to you for girl advice and you thought of him as the younger brother you never had.

"me, too," luke responded, his eyes alight. when you looked away from him, however, you felt another gaze on your side like a blistering burn, were barely surprised to find quinn's rocky eyes on your side, somewhere between your hip and waist.

his attention sparked something dangerously flammable inside of you, an anger that felt like being coated in lighter fluid.

if quinn had been beautiful the day you'd met him, he was devastating, now, having aged in a subtle way that only enhanced his features, made his jaw sharper, cheekbones more prominent. his hair was a soft shag of brown, curling onto his forehead, at the nape of his neck, the tops of his ears. he'd filled out a bit, too, wider in the chest, softer in the middle. if you had to describe to someone your type, you figured you'd get maybe ten seconds in before realizing you were just describing quinn.

now, his eyes met yours in a clash of flame and ancient rock, immovable and disastrous.

coward, you seemed to say without words, mean, rude, coward.

and, as always, he seemed to say absolutely nothing.

you were being kind, though, you were being lovely, so you just rolled your eyes and made to join savannah and lexi as they chatted by the bar.

the sun set over the distant sky line, making the sea ripple purple and orange as music played from the deck, as more and more people seemed to gather, as drinks flowed easier and voices grew louder.

you caught up with luke about his last year of school, listened to nico talk about his last girlfriend (who he insisted was really, truly crazy, as he had claimed about the last girl, and the one before that), asked jack about how work was going and savannah how her cats were doing. you were including everyone, you were being a wonderful maid of honor, you were being kind and lovely, all while quinn remained oddly quiet, talking only when directly addressed, every now and then looking at you with an intensity that made you dizzy.

what are you doing? you wanted to scream at him, you're not allowed to look at me!

he didn't seem to particularly care about your unspoken wishes, anyways, though you supposed he never had. he just took small sips from his fruity cocktail, and you pretended not to notice how it made his pouty lips more pink, like he was wearing a shimmery gloss. you hated yourself for the way your stomach flipped at the sight.

"so, how's your week been, q?" luke asked him, eventually, taunting him with a smile. "awfully quiet over there. what're you hiding?"

and you shouldn't have done it, it was not very lovely and kind of you, but you gave a light scoff at this. because you knew just how good quinn was a hiding things. people, even.

of course, he noticed. he seemed to notice just about everything, when it came to you, ever the perceptive observer. it was something you'd adored about him, for a night.

"what?" quinn bit out, and he wasn't looking at luke, instead looking directly at you. "got something to say, doll?"

you felt your eye twitch, only just barely, because out of all of his mannerisms and actions that drove you absolutely crazy, this one might be your least favorite. how, after all this time, he still rarely called you anything but doll.

how, now, it was said with such condescending distaste, when it had once been 'm dyin' to kiss you, doll, murmured in a bedroom doorframe. when it had once been give me one more, doll, hm? be good for me, hot against your temple.

"nothing, quinn," you said, with a smile that felt more similar to baring teeth, his name some malicious hex. "don't worry about it."

there was a brief pause charged with meaning, his slate-like eyes boring into yours.

you were the first to look away, to look down at your hand before he finally answered luke's question, went into some noncommittal explanation about work.

eventually, somehow, the conversation veered towards wedding dates.

"wait," savannah said, pausing as if having trouble understanding. "you're telling me that out of all of you, both wedding parties, the only one with a plus-one is luke? and it's not even a date?"

"mackie still counts," luke said, shrugging. "no one said we weren't allowed to bring friends."

"regardless," savannah said, exasperated. "how did this happen?"

nico grinned. "not all of us can be so easily tied down, sav," he said with a wink, to which you and lexi groaned.

"oh, what?" nico retorted, looking at the two of you, "if it really matters, i'll bring a date. hell, i'll bring four dates."

you shook your head vigorously. "do not bring four dates. please do not bring four dates."

"do not make our wedding an episode of the bachelor, nico," savannah warned. "but you guys should bring someone!" her eyes grew wide with excitement. "you could even find someone on the boat!"

lexi whistled.

"do we really want a bunch of strangers at our wedding?" jack mused, joking.

"oh, hush," savannah said, laying a hand on his forearm.

he smiled. "you're right," he conceded, "not like this lot could find dates anyways."

the only people who seemed especially opposed to jack's judgement were nico and lexi.

you just shrugged. you didn't really want to bring a date to the wedding, because you didn't have a serious boyfriend, right now, and you didn't want to invite someone you weren't serious about. you could find a date, sure, it wouldn't be too hard, but that would just be another person to entertain for a night during which you were already going to be pulled in a million different directions.

"okay, so lex and nico are going to find dates," savannah said, then turned to you, "what about you?"

"i'm good, sav," you said, plainly, cordially, with a smile that she returned. you knew that she just wanted you to be happy, and that it probably hurt her to imagine you lonely.

"or you, quinn?" savannah continued.

you fixed your eyes on him, too, as did the rest of the table. as much as you maybe shouldn't have been, you were straining to hear his answer.

"yeah, didn't you say you were thinking of bringing someone? what was her name, again?" jack asked, snapping his fingers as if trying to summon his memory.

terrible envy bubbled through your veins, thick and green, at the mention of quinn wanting someone who wasn't you. at the reminder that he was fully capable of wanting someone, he just hadn't wanted you.

quinn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "i never told you i was thinking of bringing someone," he told his brother, sounding almost annoyed, his tone sharp.

jack's half-smile told you he knew something you didn't. "my bad," he said, "must've forgotten."

quinn's full mouth twitched to the side, almost undetectable, but of course you noticed. he looked almost angry that jack had suggested that he bring a date. there was the faintest pink across his nose, too, as if he was almost embarrassed.

something heavy settled in your chest, made your throat tight, because you knew what it was like to be embarrassed in a group. to want something so adamantly and have it go the other way in front of your eyes.

as if pulled by some magnetic force, some power fueled by history and shed tears, quinn's eyes briefly met yours, like you were the calm in some hurricane, like you tethered him to the world. for a second, you remembered just what it felt like to be his. just how consuming it was.

but you weren't his, you reminded yourself. so, of course, the anger followed, along with a bloodthirsty self-loathing at your momentary protection of him, your fleeting feelings of sympathy.

you weren't his, and yet he was looking at you now like he was begging you to do something.

"you know what, sav?" you said, although you were looking right at quinn, "changed my mind. think i'll bring a date, actually."

it was quinn's turn to scoff, which had rage rolling in your head like high tide. "yeah, right," he said. "you haven't been with someone in years, doll."

you furrowed your brow, because that just wasn't true, flat out. did quinn actually think you hadn't been with guys since you'd had him?

lexi was the one to laugh. "what're you on about, quinn?" she said. "what planet have you been living on?"

"you think i call you up as soon as i scratch another notch in my bedpost?" you asked, incredulous. "course i've been with guys."

a million emotions rumbled through his eyes like a slow-building earthquake, which made realization spark in your head.

"unless," you started, "unless you haven't been with-"

"i'll bet that you don't end the weekend with a date, then," quinn said, cutting you off as you'd gotten dangerously close to saying something incriminating, something he didn't want others to know.

it took no convincing from you to agree to his bet, even if nico and luke were nudging you on. "you're on," you said, your voice lower than you anticipated.

he hummed, ran his tongue along the inside of his cheek, cocked his head in a way that made your nerves spring to life. "and what do i get when i win?"

he said the words like he knew exactly how you'd take them. in a way that made everything else fade away, for a moment, made you forget your audience of friends, made the music lull to a halt in your ears, made the massive deck of this boat feel altogether too small.

"what do you want?" you asked, almost blushed at how rough your voice sounded, promptly cleared your throat again.

his heavy gaze dropped to your mouth, making warning sirens blare in your head. making you so, so angry.

"decide the terms later," jack said, obviously done with this topic, which really only concerned you and quinn, "deal or no deal?"

quinn extended a hand to you in answer, which you stared at for a second, suddenly delirious with deja vu. remembering when he had last went looking for a handshake.

this time, though, you took it, squeezed it so tight you hoped it hurt, although he didn't even wince, held eye contact with you the entire time.

"eager to lose, eh, doll?" he asked, his eyes shining.

"you know me," you said, then, "just so eager." knowing exactly how he would take it. in a way that had his eyes glazing over, just a bit, perhaps had phantom breaths of please, quinn, give me all of it echoing in his mind.

and so your weekend getaway began with a wager.

still, you didn't want your heightening anger towards quinn to take over your vacation, so, the following day, you went about your way as you had been planning on.

you ate breakfast with lexi, explored the boat with sav and luke, finally settled down to read by the pool in the late afternoon.

the sun was bright and big in the sky, so you untied the straps of your swimsuit, so as to avoid tan lines. time passed as you flipped pages, engrossed in your book, until you felt the heat on your body like a scratchy sweater.

at some point, you felt a figure next to you, a big body with a face you couldn't see until you brought a hand up to shield your eyes.

the man blocking the sun from you was a little jarring in his beauty, you realized. handsome in a very different way than what you were usually attracted to. he had curly, curly hair, almost red in the light, a symmetrical face, a prominent gap in his two front teeth that you had the sneaking suspicion he used to his advantage.

he had you smiling up at him, nonetheless. "can i help you, handsome?" you asked.

his mouth quirked at your words as his features settled into a theatrical expression. "you're sweet, princess, but i was actually hoping to help you."

you hummed, bent one knee up until the sole of your foot rested flat on your lounge chair. "were you, now?" maybe this whole finding a wedding date business was going to be even easier than you initially thought.

the handsome stranger squatted down until his hips rested back on his heels, until he was eye level with you. like he didn't want to look down at you. like you were even lovelier head on. he raised a wide hand to one side of his mouth, as if telling you some great secret at a cafeteria lunch table. "just wanted to warn you that your straps are untied," he whispered, gesturing with his other hand to his own shoulders. his smirk told you that he knew it was intentional.

you made no move to retie them, let out a small laugh. "my knight in shining armor, hm?"

his shoulders rose and fell in a telling chuckle. "either that or i just wanted an excuse to come over here," he said. "'m matthew."

"'m flattered, matthew," you said, then gave him your own name. "you don't seem like a guy who needs an excuse, though."

his smirk grew wide. "what do i seem like, then, princess?"

you tilted your head to the side, thought for a moment. "don't know," you admitted, "got the smile of a charmer, though, give you that."

matthew appeared about to respond, but was cut off by the approach of a figure to the other side of your chair, standing at full height, looking down at you and your new acquaintance.

a figure you'd know in the dark, a presence you'd sense while unconscious. quinn drew both of your attention, but said nothing. you pursed your lips.

"what's up, man?" said matthew, maybe a little unsure, in a tone that sort of felt like he was making fun of quinn. "all good?" he didn't push back up to his full height, which you found hilarious and endearing. how he didn't seem even the tiniest bit threatened by quinn, when it was so painfully obvious that he was trying so hard to appear threatening.

you peered up at him, found his blatant discomfort and indecision especially unsettling. "what do you want, quinn?" you asked, annoyance creeping into your voice like moss on a damp rock.

"you know this guy?" matthew said, his grin that of a class clown.

"do you know this guy, doll?" quinn retorted, crossing his arms over his chest, and you rolled your eyes, set your book down beside you.

"quinn, this is matthew," you said, gesturing between the two of them. "matthew, quinn."

quinn didn't move, but matthew's smile grew taunting as he extended his hand out for a handshake.

a handshake that quinn just stared at, briefly, did not make a move to reciprocate, his gaze so solid, relentlessly cold. you could have slapped him, if you didn't have an audience.

matthew just laughed, retracted his hand, finally stood up. "well, i guess i'll be seeing you around, princess," he said, looking right at you.

"until then, matthew," you responded, an easy smile on your face.

he gave you one last charismatic smile before looking to quinn again. "you've been a treat, quinn," he said, little more than a chuckle, raising a hand in goodbye before turning and walking away.

when he was out of ear shot, you looked up at quinn, ignoring the way the sun lit up the high points of his face. "so," you began, dangling one leg off of your chair, pulling the other up to your chest. "when did you officially lose your goddamn mind?"

he scrunched his mouth to the side as if tasting something sour. "haven't gone crazy," he said, basically a grumble, "thought he was bothering you."

you laughed, genuinely, from your stomach.

"what?" he said, and it was sharp, heavy.

"babe, is this guy bothering you?" you said, imitating a comically deep masculine voice before returning to your usual tone. you retied the straps of your swimsuit, not looking at him. "get real. since when do you give a fuck about me?"

he didn't answer, just shifted on his feet slightly, which made the muscles of his thighs tense. you could feel his anger building, looming like some poisonous cloud around the two of you. he was flushed, and you had a feeling it was some lethal combination of embarrassment and fury. it made his eyes almost glow, made his shoulders clench with strain.

"jesus, don't hurt yourself," you said, eyeing the tension that radiated from his body. "not a good look on you."

this made him intimidating, somehow, made the difference in height between the two of you feel substantial, significant. "really, doll?" he said, with a bite that you could taste. history made its stinging presence known between the two of you, made the air sizzle. "don't like me like this?"

you wanted to punch him the stomach, made him hunch over, bring him to your level so he didn't feel so high and mighty. who was he, now, to hint at your history? when he had denied it so grossly before?

you were not the one in the wrong here, you remembered, he was the one who had approached you.

"no," you said, through clenched teeth, "no, quinn, i don't like you jealous."

this seemed to set his anger loose, as you had expected it to, his fists now tight at his sides. "i am not jealous," he said, slowly, almost scarily. "maybe if you weren't showing yourself off like a-"

you stood up, then, your pulse in your ears, your heart in your throat. you laid a warning hand on his chest, the closest you'd been in a long time. "oh, you aren't really about to call me a slut, are you, quinn?" you warned, like a storm siren.

his gaze shot down to your hand before returning to your unwavering eyes again.

"are you?" you pressed, with the strength of practiced patience. he still said nothing, which made you want to pound your fists on his chest, get him to say something, anything. how tired and frustrated you were of his silence. "where do you get off playing tough-guy savior, anyways?" you continued. "you've got no say in who i talk to, just because you've been celibate, apparently, which is absolutely insane-"

"'m not playing anything," was his short response, which had you fuming.

"you're no tough guy, quinn," you said, "you're a coward."

your eyes widened when his smoldered, as he brought a hand up to your face, swiped his warm thumb across your jawline. you would have smacked his hand away, you swore it, but you were lost for a moment, drowning in the touch you'd craved for longer than you cared to admit. "and you're desperate, doll," he breathed, like some terrible caress, "where does that leave us?"

his words barreled through you like a battering ram, cruel and sadistic. because what were you most ashamed of, if not seeming desperate to his indifferent? what were you questioning most, if not where that left you?

it had been you and quinn, first. could you truly say it had ever been over?

he dropped his hand from your face, leaving you cold, lacking, all over again. leaving your breath coming out a little bit short, your lips slightly parted. because as much as his words cut through you like a dagger to the chest, he said them with such softness, such warmth.

making it so painfully clear in your mind just how much you still wanted him, even if he drove you mad. even if he was exactly the reason behind so many of your fears.

"i hate you," you said, but of course you didn't mean it.

"i hate you," he said, but of course he was lying.

your body and mind were still buzzing, practically alight, that night, when sav and jack decided your whole group should go out, try the ship's nightclub on for a few hours.

and you probably would have politely declined, in any other scenario. you didn't go out that much now, not like you did in school, at least. in recent history, you'd found yourself much more attracted to a night in on the couch than a bass-boosted speaker in your ear. however, you supposed, you wouldn't be able to really relax tonight, anyways, not when your blood felt hot in your body, when your fingertips felt as if they were laced with electrical currents.

you felt almost ill with energy, crazed with some awful mixture of shame and desire and annoyance and disgust.

and you sort of hated yourself for how practically demented quinn's touch made you feel, how deranged his undivided attention made you.

it was so, so unfair, and you wished it wouldn't be true. but it was, so you figured you might as well use this energy while you had it, might as well lean heavily into this version of yourself. this version of yourself, whose emotions were blown up, heightened to a magnificent level.

this you, who felt embarrassment like rosy handcuffs around her wrists, who felt want like a leaden crown, satisfaction like a bubbly drink, displeasure like a hand around your neck. who felt danger and challenge like some intoxicating drug.

it was this you who pulled on a tight, short dress, who spent a few more minutes than usual lining and glossing your lips. maybe it wasn't the most level-headed you'd ever been, sure, but you couldn't remember the last time you'd felt so utterly alive.

"holy shit," lexi said when she opened her door, found you waiting to walk down with her, "you look insane."

you smiled. "good insane or insane insane?"

lexi grabbed her small bag and shut the door behind her. "oh, please," she said, waving you off. "almost forgot that you're workin' with all that," she added, which made you laugh.

once the two of you made your way inside, you looked around for your friends, quickly spotted luke sitting at a table with sav and jack.

sav whistled at the two of you as you approached. "holy smokes," she said.

"oh, stop it," lexi teased, making to sit down next to her.

you just leaned on the side of luke's stool, knocked your shoulder into his. "past your bedtime, eh?" you joked.

he rolled his eyes, smiled. "what brings you out of your cave?" he mused. he knew how much it took for you to venture from your room.

you just shrugged. "what if i just wanted to see you?"

he gave a disbelieving shake of his head before tilting it up to look at you head on. "heard you and q had quite the blowout at the pool."

you narrowed your eyes. "wouldn't call it a blowout," you said, and you meant it, because you could have done so much worse. "who told you that, anyways?"

he scoffed. "who do you think?"

you scrunched up your face. you knew how close quinn and luke were, but, somehow, it still surprised you that he had told anyone about what had happened at the pool. it felt weird that, after refusing to acknowledge what had happened between you, he'd tell luke anything about you.

it made you wonder just how much he had disclosed, if luke knew much more than he was letting on.

"what did he tell you?" you asked, curiosity overtaking any of your discipline.

the youngest hughes just gave you a big grin, though, like he'd caught you in something. "i forget," he said, and you hit him lightly on the arm.

you turned your attention back to the table. "where's nico?" you asked, as he was the only one from the group you hadn't really seen that day. you didn't ask where quinn was, even though you really, really wanted to know. was he even here? did he stay in his room, like you had wanted to?

jack gestured vaguely. "haven't seen him since we got here."

"'s probably pretty busy," sav added, "i think the last time i saw him he was up to three wedding dates."

lexi groaned while you hid your face in luke's shoulder for a second.

you sighed, then pushed yourself out of your lean.

"where're you going?" luke asked you.

"to save the feminine population of this cruise ship from hurricane nico," you answered, before patting the top of his head and making for the bar.

the music was louder, away from the tables and closer to the dance floor, crowded with people in bold colors and daring cuts.

you leaned forward on the counter, raised a hand to catch the bartender's attention. the man with the platinum buzzcut nodded to you to signal that he'd be right there.

"how'd you escape your keeper?" a goofy voice said from beside you, and you recognized the confident tone before you even turned.

"good to see you again, matthew," you said, peering up at him with an easy smile. "and i have my ways."

"i don't doubt that, princess, i don't doubt that," he conceded, his grin revealing that gap between his front teeth.

"thanks for waiting," the bartender said, now in front of you two, adjusting his black bowtie. "to drink?"

"two of whatever she's having," matthew said.

"vodka soda, please," you clarified, opening your mouth to protest when matthew wouldn't let you pay.

"let me get this one, hm?" he asked, and he was so steady you knew he wouldn't budge.

you blew out a breath like you were annoyed, but the thought was sweet. "fine," you said, "just this once. thank you."

"anytime," was his immediately reply as the bartender dropped the two glasses in front of each of you.

"thank you," you said to the blonde, eyes searching for his name tag, "elias."

he gave a curt nod in response before being summoned by another patron.

you turned, now leaned your back against the bar counter, crossed an ankle over the other as you again looked at matthew.

"did i mention how beautiful you look?" he said, a lazy smirk on his face, telling you he'd used this line before. it brought a delighted flush to your cheeks, nonetheless.

"that one's a heater," you said, "bet it works on all the girls." you took a sip from your cold glass, found it strong and sharp.

"not all of 'em, apparently," he said, and you let out a laugh.

you chatted pleasantly with matthew for a while, your mission to find nico long forgotten.

fortunately, at some point, you were surprised to see nico himself approach the two of you where you stood, his gait as overconfident as his expression.

"who's this guy?" matthew whispered, his breath hot by your ear as he leaned down. you shivered, could feel his sly smile.

"a clown," you whispered back.

matthew hummed. "you seem to know a lot of those, eh, princess?"

and it shocked you, sort of, how part of you jumped to defend quinn. how part of you wanted to explain to matthew, however stupidly, that quinn wasn't a clown, he wasn't dumb, he wasn't like nico.

what did it matter if this almost stranger thought quinn was an idiot? hadn't he made a fool of himself just today?

"hey, nico," you said, when he was close enough. "meant to look for you." your side glance had you locking eyes with matthew again, warm and inviting. "got distracted."

"no worries at all, no worries at all," nico responded, "i've just been sent over by a certain quinn hughes to see what was going on here, but, as he should have known, i am no errand boy." he gave matthew a knowing look. "and you seem like a great guy." nico's mouth gave an impressed sort of scrunch. "good face, too."

"i like this guy much more," matthew said, elbowing you gently, although you were having a bit of a hard time focusing.

because you'd warned quinn about leaving you be, warned him that he had absolutely and completely forfeited any opinion to be had about your life. and yet, just hours later, apparently, he hadn't learned his lesson.

"where is he?" you bit out, and you had a feeling your smile looked menacing. at least menacing enough to make nico do a double take. "eh, over there," he said, motioning over to the dance floor.

sure enough, your eyes caught on quinn's broad figure, practically indistinguishable from the one close to him, the girl he was dancing with. you rolled your eyes, turned to matthew with sympathy.

he seemed to be anticipating your words, if his slightly disappointed sigh was anything to go by. "well, the keeper calls," he joked, and his easy-going smile made you feel almost sick.

because here was this lovely person, right in front of you, so obvious about his attraction to you. and yet, you were walking away from him. the very thought made anger thrum within you.

"i'm sorry," you said, and it was genuine.

matthew gave a one-shouldered shrug. "don't be," he said, "i'm lucky i even got to see you in that dress." he winked at you before turning to walk away.

you were silent for a moment, blinking.

nico, who'd you'd forgotten had even been there, blew out a breath. "hell," he said, shaking his head, "that guy was a smoke."

"how many dates are you at?" you said, your eyeline still firmly on quinn, on the beautiful blonde girl he was dancing with. you stirred your halfway empty drink.

nico shrugged. "lost track," he said, "why? wanna borrow one?"

"maybe later," you said, then pushed yourself from the counter and began to make your way across the room.

the walk felt much longer than it was, as if a chasm had opened up between you and quinn, jagged rocks lining the walls, some treacherous river running through your legs, drenching your heels.

the walk felt longer than it was, but then you were in front of quinn, and the beautiful girl.

you tapped her on the shoulder, first. "could you move to the side for a second, babe?" you asked, completely apologetic. "don't wanna ruin your dress."

her features scrunched in confusion, but she stepped to the side, as you'd asked. you shot her a grateful look before turning to face quinn, meeting his eye.

you were almost shocked to find warmth, there, so unlike the stony coldness you'd expected from him.

still, you just gave him a facetious smile, short, snarky, before tossing the remnants of your drink at him.

it hit him square in the face, better aimed than you could have hoped. liquid dripped from the strong slope of his nose, down his jaw, soaking his white button down near the collar.

the blonde gasped, brought a hand to her mouth in shock.

you turned briefly to her. "'m sorry for the interruption," you said, genuinely. "you look gorgeous."

as quinn ran a slow hand down his face, wiping alcohol from his forehead, cheeks, you hummed and began to walk away, your stride satisfied as you made for the exit.

you dropped your glass on a table, walked through the doorway, onto the deck of the ship, the darkness of the night, sudden quiet a welcomed change of pace.

you had only just taken a breath when you felt a grip on your wrist, firm but not painful.

"just fuck off, won't you, quinn?" you said, just about done for the night. he just pulled you aside, boxed you against the railing on the deck, the noise of the sea in harmony with the faded beat of the club's mix.

you were so, so, done. you hadn't really wanted to come out, anyways, and then, when you were finally having a good time, he had to go and ruin it, send nico over to check in on you, like you needed some kind of babysitter.

he scoffed, a sound that felt beautiful in your ears, somehow. "think you can just walk away, after a stunt like that?" he said the words like they meant something deeper than just their surface meaning, but you couldn't, for the life of you, figure it out.

you blew out a breath, met his gaze directly.

you probably should have known by now that if there was one word to describe quinn, it was unfair.

unfair, how, drenched in a drink you tossed at him, he still looked this pretty. his hair damp, evident that he had run his hands through it. his features almost enhanced by the liquid that shone on them, his shirt practically sheer, now, drawing attention to his broad chest, corded shoulders. unfair.

maybe you had been wrong. maybe you couldn't handle this weekend. you'd been able to escape him before, for years, always had an easy out during gatherings with friends, always had something else to focus on.

he was everywhere here. he was unavoidable. he was inside your head, whispering in your ear. he was a phantom grapefruit taste on your tongue.

here, you were basically back in his bed, two years ago, back in that bar booth. here, you were surrounded by him.

"you sent nico to spy on me," you said, each word pronounced perfectly clear. you clenched your fists tight as if to restrain them. "how many times do i need to tell you, quinn? who i fuck is none of your business!"

he let out a noise that was half-growl. "you wanted him?" he asked, low and loaded, so painfully so it made your stomach drop.

"what does it matter?" you said. "i can't even speak to someone on this boat, apparently, without you breathing down my neck!"

"it matters," was his reply, spoken so softly, with a cutting bite. "it matters, doll."

you narrowed your eyes, searched his face for some clue. droplets of liquid still clung to his lashes, making his gaze impossibly beautiful.

"it shouldn't," you said, careful. "i'm desperate, remember?" your eyes widened in false despair. "don't you remember, quinn?"

his gaze dropped momentarily to your mouth, hung there just long enough for you to notice. "i remember," he said, so gently it shocked you. like he wasn't just talking about today.

the sea air suddenly felt hot, despite the windy chill. you were acutely aware of how close he was to you, his arms on either side of your waist, boxing you against the railing, his bent knee just barely grazing yours. the warmth of him like a radiator, the smell of him overwhelming.

"enough with the overprotective act," you demanded, willing any shake from your voice. "it has to stop, quinn, i can't do it."

"you can't do it?" he asked, calculated, incredulous. "you can't do it?"

you let out an exasperated huff. "what are you saying?" you pleaded. "jesus, fuck, quinn, all you do is stare and stare and stare and say nothing!"

"what am i supposed to say?" he said, gesturing vaguely around. "what could i ever say to you?"

"maybe try something true!" you said. "give that a shot!" your volume was much too loud, and there were probably people around, but you didn't really care, couldn't even register their presence. as always, with him, no one else seemed to matter, to even exist.

you could feel his chest rise and fall against yours for a moment, a pause so thick it almost felt suffocating. "it hurts to look at you," he said, finally.

and it would have been mean, would have been some cheap shot at calling you ugly, if his voice hadn't broken halfway through. if it hadn't seemed to be the hurt that was really the point.

his arms at your sides felt like something scandalous.

"and yet all you do is stare," you said, almost drowsily. "must be doin' a whole lot of hurting, over there."

something that felt like truth rose and fell between the two of you, light as the salty breeze, dark as the deep water below.

"does it hurt, now?" you breathed, your face so close to his as you peered up at him through your lashes.

his exhale felt like a million words, all jumbled up, offered up to you on a silver platter. he looked almost haggard. "so much, doll," he practically whined, and you wanted to taste his confession on your tongue, wanted to know what his honesty felt like on your lips. if it would feel the same as it did those years ago, if it would feel better.

you raised a careful, delicate hand to his damp face, brushed your fingertips along his hairline, slowly, almost mesmerized. he looked so beautiful, then, the faint light of the deck in contrast with the night making his face angelic in a terrible sort of way. "tell me you hate me," you said, little more than a whisper.

he gave an almost undetectable shake of his head, a rogue lock of hair curling into his face. "i can't," he said, soft, pulled into a trance by your ghost of a touch.

his full lips were so close to yours, and you angled your head slightly to made room for him, wanted all of him just so badly-

"no!" came a loud protesting voice that you immediately recognized as savannah. "do not throw her overboard!"

the two of you bolted apart from each other, a few feet between you, now. your pulse was still a pounding thud in your head, though, your body a sack of candy conversation hearts in all of its deliriousness.

you supposed it would look fairly suspicious, quinn so close to you, his hands so close to you, against the railing of the ship. maybe it did look like he was going to toss you over the edge. you could have laughed at how ridiculous the reality was.

savannah now stood in front of the two of you. you couldn't look at quinn, deathly afraid of what you would find if you did.

"what the hell was that, in there?" savannah demanded, gesturing wildly to where she had come from. she fixed her eyes on you. "since when are you a drink-thrower?"

you mumbled something like since a few minutes ago, i guess.

she huffed, turned to quinn. "and i hear you're sending nico on errands to do your dirty work for you?"

quinn looked at his feet, shifted his weight slightly. "wouldn't call it dirty work," he grumbled.

your best friend took a deep breath. "i understand that you guys don't really get along," she said, evenly.

quinn's gaze shot to you for a second, but you didn't return his attentive stare. you have no idea, you wanted to tell savannah.

"and i guess i should have known better than to trap you guys on a boat for a weekend, but you're adults! and the wedding is in less than a week," she continued, not angry but obviously frustrated. "i'm the one who's supposed to have a meltdown on wedding day, okay? not you two."

"sorry, sav," you said, and you felt bad, really.

she waved her hand. "it's my fault, too," she said, "just, i don't know, sleep this off and tomorrow you'll be able to get off this boat. think we're docking for a few hours, or something."

you sighed, snuck one last look at quinn like a last bite of a shared dessert. evidence of emotion just barely hid under his casual mask, evidence of being affected by you.

"i'll do better, okay?" you said, just to savannah, as you passed her, pulled her in for a quick hug in apology. "i promise."

she hugged you back. "i know it's not just you," she whispered into you ear. "and i trust you."

you nodded, squeezed her a last time before making the trek back up to your room. you passed jack, waiting just off to the side, keeping an eye on savannah, presumably.

"goodnight," you said to him, giving him a feeble wave.

he offered you a smile. "don't tell him i said this," he whispered, "that was one of the best things i've seen in my life."

you rolled your eyes at him as he bid you a returning goodnight.

you spotted lexi, sitting at a table just outside of the club entrance, your eyes widening when you recognized the blonde in her lap as the girl quinn had been dancing with. you smiled, slightly. they looked lost in conversation. they looked good together.

as you turned the corner to the stairwell, you almost jumped, then brought a hand to your heart, let out an alarmed exhale before recognizing nico, making out with a girl against the stair railing in an almost violent way.

you tried to squeeze past the two of them, eventually giving him a light shove. "move, nico," you whisper-yelled at him.

when you finally got past him and up the stairs, you were only a few steps from your door, finally closing yourself back into your room, exhaling a heavy breath, slipping off your heels.

you didn't quite make it to your bed, instead opting to fold a leg underneath you on the floor, lean back against the side of the mattress.

you weren't really sure why you suddenly felt that undeniable pressure on your waterline, that heat at the edges of your face that signaled coming tears.

the breeze through your window was a calming chill as you ran your palms up and down your thighs, trying to bring your breathing back to normal.

it felt like your heart was ten times its normal size, like it was so heavy it was sinking down into your stomach, like an anchor into the ocean waves.

your mind was a flurried rainstorm of quinn's hand on your wrist, his arms by your sides, his chest through his button down. his parted lips, so close to yours, his eyes, so unlike the fixed iciness you'd grown used to from him.

tell me you hate me, you'd asked him, practically begged him, your tone a sinful sort of plea.

i can't, he'd answered, like your request for the truth was some binding promise, like your pure want was some altar-laid sacrifice.

you went to sleep that night jittery, dreamed of slate eyes and stolen touches, glances that meant something stark.

of course, the next day, the last full day of the cruise, your energy had not dissipated. it left you just as uncertain and edgy as ever, because now, you wondered what quinn would do when he saw you.

more probable than not, you knew, he would do nothing. he would probably pretend like, just last night, he hadn't been about to kiss you, like he hadn't confessed to something monumental.

he would probably revert right back to staring, staring, staring, and nothing more. he might even revert back to hating you, for all you knew.

and then there was the part of you, a scary, maybe delusional part of you, that believed that maybe last night had changed something. that maybe he would do more than just look, that maybe you'd do more than just fight, that maybe this time would be different.

oh, how you wanted it to be different.

it had been you and quinn, first. how you wanted it to be you and quinn, now.

at the very least, you thought, as you got ready to leave, you'd have a way out, this time. you were finally getting off the boat, going to the beach for a few hours.

if he got to be too much, you could just walk away, this time, like you had grown used to in the past.

it was this positive outlook that you clung to as you made your way off of the boat, meeting up with luke on the stairs.

"and where were you last night?" you asked, after greeting him, raising a questioning brow.

he gave a playful eye roll. "no where as exciting as you," he said, teasing. "almost getting tossed overboard, and all."

you smacked him lightly on the back of the head. "i did not almost get thrown overboard," you clarified, "i was having a civilized discussion with your brother."

luke hummed. "were you?" he asked, "not quite what i heard."

"when did you become such a gossip, hm?" you pestered, stepping off onto the dock, exhaling with slight relief at the feeling of solid ground underneath your feet.

he shrugged. "people tell me stuff," he said, simply. he didn't have to clarify who people were.

you narrowed your eyes. "how much stuff?"

luke met your gaze, and there was an understanding there that scared you. "enough," he said.

you looked at your feet as you stepped onto the sand, found it warm, calming. "oh, great," you mumbled. you could only imagine what quinn must have said about you. how desperate and deluded you were, how you had gotten so attached to him after a single night, how you'd suddenly grown so malicious towards him as soon as he didn't return your feelings. your head hung, just a bit, because you hated to think that luke, someone you trusted and cared about so much, would think this of you, just from hearing it from quinn. "shocked that you even hang out with me, then, honestly."

you could feel luke's gaze on you like the sun. he cleared his throat, making you look up at him. "think, uh," he began, scratching the back of his neck in a nervous sort of habit. "think maybe you should just talk to him."

you laughed, spotting savannah and jack setting up an umbrella further down the beach. "because that's worked so well for us," you joked, but your heart jumped in your throat. because, oh, how easy it felt to refer to yourself and quinn as an us.

luke just shrugged. "it's worked better than the alternative," he said, putting his towel down before making to help jack with beach chairs.

his words stuck with you, suspended in your mind, for a moment, because he was right. you realized, however painfully, that you would prefer a screaming match with quinn by the pool to silent staring across the room at a gathering with your friends.

you'd take an excruciating argument with him over feigned, false civility any day of the week.

there you stood, your feet in the sand, looking out at the water, and you finally understood that you'd take all of the ugly, all of the hurt, all of the cold, if only it'd give you all of him.

"uh, you good?" sav said, giving you a confused look as she registered your quiet stillness.

you shook yourself from your mind, smiled at her. "all good," you said, and it was true.

lexi joined with the blonde from the night before in tow, whom she announced as erin.

you gave erin a guilty smile when you introduced yourself. "sorry again about last night," you said.

erin waved you off. "don't worry about it," she said, "that was the most dramatic night out i've had in forever."

she set up her towel next to you and lexi, and you quickly found how easy she was to talk to.

nico ambled his way down, at some point, eyes hidden behind massive sunglasses, a baseball cap on his head, a giant hoodie on despite the heat.

jack laughed when he got close enough. "the feds onto you, or something?" he said, referring to nico's ridiculous getup.

nico's pretty face contorted into a scowl. "i'm never drinking again," was his rough reply as he sat down on a towel, practically hissing at the bright light of the sun.

"yeah, right," you laughed. "you said that last time."

"fuck off," nico grumbled, hanging his head between his bent legs.

"oh, don't be mean, nico," savannah said, "it's not our fault you can't hold your tequila."

luke's face scrunched up is distaste. "you were drinking tequila last night?" he asked, "when did you join delta gamma?"

nico made to protest, but you didn't hear it, not really, because you were distracted.

your attention had strayed to where quinn now stood, right beside luke's chair. his approach had been silent, practically stealthy, but he was here, and he was looking at you.

the conversation around you seemed to fade away, to dip down deep below the gentle waves that lapped at the shoreline.

it was still a shock to your system every time you saw him, even though you'd known each other for so long. maybe it was an even greater shock, now, because you weren't quite used to seeing so much of him, of getting so much of him, on back to back to back days.

after being practically starved of him, or at least of his true emotions, this weekend had felt like being drowned in him, held under the water by your throat until your vision swam and your chest was on the edge of exploding.

it didn't help that the way he looked, now, in broad daylight, was so brutally stunning that it stole your breath.

he looked almost weary, the shadows of his face defined and sharp, his jaw rough with stubble. maybe he'd tossed and turned all night, as you had? maybe he'd dreamed of you, too?

your languished gaze caught slowly on his bare arms, returned reluctantly back to his face. he appeared to be just barely on the cusp of, well, something, spurred on by your obvious attention, something alight in his eyes that made your stomach flip.

you felt your cheeks grow hot, bit your lip, slightly. when he was looking at you, like this, you could all but hear his firm rasp in your ear, feel his callused hand tug at your hair.

you looked away, down at your hands, afraid that your eyes were giving too much away, afraid that he could somehow tell exactly what you were thinking, exactly what memories his presence was bringing to mind.

everything felt overheated, and not just because of the sun.

time passed at an agonizing pace. hours during which you could sense when he was looking at you, could feel his stare like a bullet to the heart. during which you would occasionally look back, meet his heated, cryptic eyes, silently beg him to do something, to do anything.

but, for hours, he didn't, and you grew angrier, more fiery with every passing second.

of course he would do nothing, you tried to rationalize, this was quinn you were talking about. this was quinn, in front of all of his friends, so of course he would pretend like you were barely there.

the hurt of it all made you feel almost seasick, woozy and disbelieving, mentally grasping wildly for something to grab on to.

the hurt of him made you seasick, the whole of him made you lovesick, but what did it matter, you thought. at what point were you not just dizzy over him?

"i'm going for a walk," you said, abruptly, getting up and mumbling some affirmation when sav reminded you the boat was leaving soon, so you should hurry back.

the sand shifting under your feet, the pleasant chill of the water at your ankles, you wanted it to calm you down, you wanted your escape plan to calm you down, like it had so many times in the past.

that's what you'd said all weekend, wasn't it? that it had been so hard to be around quinn without a clear way out?

you wanted to scream, felt heat prick behind your eyes, because here you were, walking away, and it didn't feel any easier. you didn't feel any relief, any satisfaction.

he was back there, and you were here, and it didn't look like last night had changed anything, for him. it didn't look like you were as life-altering a person as he was, for you.

the thought made slow, hot tears finally, finally break through. you blinked hard as you continued to walk, the pressure in your head painful, scorching droplets hanging onto your throat before falling to the sand below.

you had no idea how long you had been walking, how long you'd been crying, but eventually, you looked up, and realized it was actually getting darker. the sun was much lower in the sky, the wind a bit quicker. clouds had began to creep in, making it grey and ominous.

great, you thought, rain on your impossibly long walk back was exactly what you needed.

you stilled, looked down at your feet, let out a deep, heavy breath, watched the water twist and pool around your ankles. maybe you could just stay like this forever. maybe your body would eventually decompose into the damp sand and smooth pebbles, turn into something beautiful.

"jesus, doll, there you are."

your head whipped back as you turned around, found a slightly out of breath quinn now in front of you. you blinked at him, your lips shut. was this some trick of the storm? what was he doing here? how dare he follow you?

your eyes didn't leave his, as you watched his gaze visibly soften so beautifully when he took in your face.

it must have been bad, you thought, evidence of crying for however long all over you. your cheeks must have been splotchy, your lashes clumped together, your lips puffy, eyes red.

this vision of you seemed to sober him, to make his heightened breathing cool down to something more composed.

he exhaled, braved a step closer to you, now only a foot apart. his gaze dripped down you in a way that had you wanting to just sink into the earth. "doll," he began, almost a warning, "you been crying?"

you didn't say anything, for a second, didn't indulge his obvious question with a response.

"what are you doing here?" you said, eventually, but it came out like a statement, a whisper, as you messily wiped your face with the back of your hand.

he had the gall to blink back at you, as if confused, that sorry softness still drenching his face, his posture. "you'd been gone for a while," he began, "the boat was leaving, and i just-"

"do you just want to fight, again?" you asked, your blood growing hotter with each second he was here, so close to you. you hated how wobbly your voice sounded, how resigned you already seemed to be. you peered up at him, felt your heart crack in two. "do you know your lines, yet, quinn?"

"i don't want to fight," he said, and conflict burned bright across his gaze, indecision.

"should i start or you?" you pressed, ignoring his admission, "how many times do i have to make a fool of myself before i finally stop expecting you to act like i matter?"

his breath was sharp in silence. the wind whipped your hair around your face, sticking to your tear-stained cheeks.

"of course you matter," he said, almost incredulous, like the whole idea of thinking otherwise was ridiculous.

your laugh was bitter, mean. "oh, of course," you bit out. "of course, right? how could i not be able to tell? you say you don't hate me, but you won't even talk to me in front of our friends," you swung you arms about in gesture. "jesus fuck, quinn, you almost kissed me, last night, and today it's right back to whatever bullshit we've been pulling for the last two years." you looked away from him, so overwhelmed with emotion. "it wasn't me who ruined this whole thing."

"you think i ruined it?" something equally terrifying and lovely melted across his eyes.

you scoffed. "it wasn't me who pretended like we'd never met," you snarked. you could almost sense a well of feeling rumbling through him like a cresting wave.

"you left!" he finally rasped, the most emotion you'd seen from him, maybe ever, his voice echoing in your head as the wind continued its assault, as small raindrops began to fall. "you left, doll, okay? i thought that night was special, but i woke up alone," he said, and it was so gravelly, sad, you felt it in your teeth.

you blinked, watched his chest rise and fall in heaving breaths. how could that be true? it dawned on you that you barely remembered much of what you did that morning, having focused so intently, for so long, on him. was it possible this whole thing was a misunderstanding?

"so you pretend not to know me?" you pressed, rain cold on your legs, your face, an icy contrast to the hot tears that had stopped flowing.

he gave a resigned gesture, blew out a breath. "i was embarrassed!" he said, "i am embarrassed, okay, doll? it's fucking embarrassing to be so into someone and then have them leave without saying goodbye, alright?"

your split heart thumped despite its brittle ache. there was a pause as you both registered just what the other had just admitted to.

both of you were soaked, now, rain dripping down your faces, but you didn't feel cold. you felt as if every inch of your skin was on fire, like your heart was trying to claw its way out of your chest.

you didn't know what to say. he had laid all his cards on the table, right in front of you, given you the honesty you'd been begging him for.

"and, you know, you wanted to kiss me, too, last night," quinn said, finally, defensive, hot, a thermometer approaching the highest temperature. as if the fact made it easier on him, somehow, as if it was a thread tying him to the earth, keeping him from floating away. "it wasn't just me."

you groaned through clenched teeth, a guttural sound. "of course i did! of course i want to kiss you!" you almost yelled, laying a tight fist on his solid chest, just barely holding back from slamming it into him.

his eyes were a forest fire, then, as your choice of words registered, a pause heavier than rock between you.

"wanted or want, doll?" he asked, and it was a breath, a whine, a plea as he allowed himself to wrap a heavy arm around your waist, pull you closer to him, until you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face. the closest he'd been, dizzyingly close, like a dream.

you realized your mistake even in your dazed state, how he'd said you'd wanted to kiss him the night before. how you said you want to.

you could have easily laughed him off, said it was a tenses slip-up. you unfurled your fist, instead, laid your palm flat against his chest, perhaps imagined his heart beating in your grip.

he had been so honest with you, after all, had finally told you the truth. the least you could do was return the favor.

"want," you all but whispered, gazing up at him through raindrops and vulnerability.

what was and what could be melted away in a single moment.

he was a blur of relief and desperate motion. "thank fuck," was his murmured groan as he took the side of your face in a rough hand and guided your lips to his in a kiss that felt like a feat of nature one million times more impressive than the storm that blew around you.

it had been years of countless petty fights and cruel misunderstandings, of bitter jealousy and longing gazes, of deifying the last time you'd had quinn, like this. and yet, still, it was so much better than you remembered. he was.

the way he clutched at your hip like he couldn't bear to let you go, not anymore, not this time. the way his hand on your face was so firm, but so gentle. that undeniable faint grapefruit taste, so completely him.

how you melted into his chest, wrapped your arms around his neck, just wanting him closer, closer, just wanting him so close that you'd never be apart again.

you whimpered against his mouth when his teeth pulled lightly at your bottom lip, like some punishment for all you'd put him though. you just rooted your hand in his hair, now soaking wet, tugged at the curls near his neck, in your own kind of retaliation, until he gave a choked moan of his own.

that's for what you did to me, the soft sensation of pain screamed at both of you.

but his chapped lips moved with such intention against yours, like he wanted to swallow down all of the tears you'd cried over him. your body against his felt so right, so warm and comfortable even in the wet and cold weather.

but this is for what you are to me, was the ultimate response, communicated wordlessly through your kiss, through his.

at some point, you both pulled away, only just slightly, your forehead leaning against his as you both caught your breath, so elevated. his stony eyes were so molten, so clear and telling, as he traced his thumb down your jaw, finally wrapped both arms around your back and clasped his hands.

the silence was so beautiful, for a while.

"did the boat really leave?" you asked, dazed, finally, your voice low, husky.

quinn just nodded. "jack said they'll reimburse us for the night if we stay at the inn downtown," he explained, looking around to locate the road, the civilization that existed outside of your perfect bubble. his eyes found you again, something like mirth hidden in there, somewhere. "probably should get out of the rain."

your swollen mouth quirked up in a half-smile as you nodded your agreement, let him hold your hand in his as you made the short walk to the inn jack had been referring to.

you checked in together, ignoring a slightly confused look from the person at the desk, probably at the fault of your rain-drenched appearances. quinn made to grab some overnight necessities at the supermarket next door, kindly letting you take a warm shower while he did so.

when you opened the door to your room, you quickly realized that there was only one bed to share between the two of you. your stomach rolled at the thought, at the pressure that would exist, or not exist, when he returned. at the question of how far you were going to take this. your heart hurt at just how far you'd take it, take him, if he'd let you.

the thought vibrated through you as you let the warm water wash away the day's wear from your skin, eventually wrapping yourself up in a towel.

you hadn't realized how late it was, the quick storm messing with your conception of passing time. it was almost nine by the time quinn got back.

he closed the door behind himself, and the clicking noise that followed felt like something serious as he turned to face you, set the bag of things he had gotten on the dresser.

he cleared his throat as his gaze caught haphazardly on your bare shoulders, the slope of your neck, then finally registering the bed that you were sitting on, the singularity of it. he flushed down to his collar, making butterflies flutter to life in your chest.

he eventually averted his gaze enough to maintain a glimpse of dignity, opening the bathroom door. "got some stuff for you in there, doll," he called, gently, over his shoulder before he shut the door behind him, seemingly to take a shower himself.

you tried not to blush, because you were too old for that, too mature. you exhaled, tried to convince yourself that you would be fine no matter what happened, tonight. you'd kissed, sure, and there seemed to be an air of lightness, of understanding between you, but that didn't necessarily mean you were entirely past all of your issues. that didn't mean quinn wanted to move as fast as you did.

you distracted yourself by going through the bag on the dresser, trying to put together some semblance of your nighttime routine. the clothing options, understandably, must not have been plentiful. you smiled, laughed lightly as you pulled out the tshirt he'd gotten for you to change into, which was one of those touristy ones that read the person who bought me this shirt loves me very much!

and it was obviously because there had been no other options, but a piece of you clung to the sentiment, dug your nails into the flesh of it so hard it began to bleed.

regardless, you got ready to go to sleep, pretended to ignore when you heard the shower head turn off, the bathroom door eventually open, averted your gaze and forced away your blush upon quinn's reappearance.

the air of the room felt almost metallic, tangible, like it was rattling around the space instead of flowing.

you knew it was partially due to the way he looked, now, damp and flushed from the warm water, his chest bare and broad, a towel slung low on his hips. you swallowed, looked up at the ceiling, as if there was something very interesting up there. as if there was anything more captivating to you than him.

he pulled on the cheap clothes he'd gotten for himself, went through the motions of his own little routine, all while you pretended to be on your phone, scrolling through apps but not retaining even a bit of information.

"good if i turn the light out?" he eventually asked, soft, to which you nodded, consenting to the darkness that followed, the rustling of comforters and sheets as he joined you on the bed.

you set your phone down, tried to close your eyes, but you couldn't relax, not with him just so, so close, not with so much that you still wanted to do. not with years of complete lack weighing on you, not with the memory of his lips on yours so beautifully fresh in your mind.

you were turned away from him, a bit of space between you, but you could somehow feel that he was awake, too, that he was just as aware of the energy and expectation that coated the two of you like a watery film.

the texture of the inn's cheap sheets felt grating and terrible against your hot skin, made you restless, rubbing your legs together against the other slowly, fussing with your pillow, tediously careful to not make contact with him.

"doll," was quinn's inevitable comment, more of a warning, a statement, spoken low and rough, rumbling through you.

you didn't turn to face him, but stilled. "sorry," you mumbled, your cheeks warm.

"what's wrong?" you could basically feel the words on your back, the heat from his breath, his body.

you exhaled, still refusing to face him head-on, knew you'd be done for if you did. "nothing's wrong," you whispered.

he hummed, almost like this was amusing to him. "can feel you thinkin' from here," he said, soft. "tell me."

the pause before you spoke was solid, weighted. "just don't want to go back what we were before," you said, and it was the tone of a beggar, so honest in want. "just want this time to be different."

then he reached his arms out, wrapped them around your middle, pulled you back against his soft frame. you swore you must have exhaled a thousand anxieties as you melted into him, shifted your hips back against him.

"i want that, too," he admitted, and you could barely stop your smile as you finally turned to face him, undeniably beautiful even in the darkness.

"really?" you asked, not caring for a second how pathetic it sounded, how glutted with hope, almost childlike.

you felt his nod more than saw it as his grip around you tightened, his hands firmly grasping the flesh of your hips as you reached up, traced your fingers along the edge of his jaw.

"i'm sorry i left," you breathed, and you could feel his chest contract at your apology. "i never wanted to hurt you."

"i'm sorry, too," he said, "'m sorry i acted like you didn't matter to me, doll." his tone dripped with meaning. "'m sorry i lied."

your mouth quirked. "done a lot of lying, haven't we?" you mused. it was honestly impressive, how long you'd both kept up the charade.

he mumbled some affirmation that you felt against your forehead, the heat of it making you rub your calves together, again. "still nervous?" he asked.

you peered up at him. "not nervous," you clarified, "i just-"

you exhaled, lowered your gaze, almost stumbled over your words, because how could you tell him exactly what you thought?

how could you say all i've wanted for years is for you to touch me like you did that night?

somehow, maybe because he was feeling something similar, he seemed to know exactly where your head was, exactly the dilemma that existed in your mind.

"ask me," he said, hard, firm, "ask me, doll. know i like you desperate."

you whimpered, because his words could have been a taunt, had been a taunt before, but not this time.

because you were desperate, only for him. and he wanted you anyways.

"i need you, quinn," you whined, gathering his shirt in a clenched fist, "fuck, i need you so bad."

that was enough, though you supposed the truth had always been enough, for the two of you.

it was enough for his lips to crash against yours for the second time, that night, this time so soft, no longer fueled by anger or revenge but by something lovelier, slow burning, something you felt in your feet.

your lips parted almost immediately in a soft moan, making space for him as his hand braced the back of your neck, holding you tight as he shifted you so that he was on top of you, the weight and solidity of him almost oppressive, if not exactly what you'd been craving for so long.

he kissed you hard, adoring, like he wanted the outline of your mouth imprinted on his forever, as his other hand traced down the side of your body, eventually stilling to push your searching hips into the mattress.

"be good, doll," he murmured against your jaw, leaving messy kisses down your neck that had your throat feeling tight.

"can't," you whined, grasping for the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting your hips again to try to get some kind of friction against his lap. "can't, baby, been waiting so long." you tugged at his hair as his hand rested heavily on your inner thigh. "been wantin' you forever."

he let out a groan, finally moved his broad hand to tug your clothes aside, run his fingers through your folds. "yeah?" you could feel him smile against your neck as your breathing picked up, as he just barely grazed your clit, making you squirm. "been thinkin' 'bout me?" he asked. "'bout the last time i fucked you?"

you whimpered, nodded feverishly, because you had been thinking about it. a day rarely went by that you didn't think about it. it felt like something mythical that it didn't have to be just a memory anymore, that he didn't have to be your haunted house. that he could be here, with you, like this.

he pushed a thick finger into you, urging a strained sound from your throat. "'s okay," he cooed, watching you adjust to the pressure, the sensation.

he began a steady pace, adding another finger, making the slick sound of you seem to echo off the thin walls of the inn, making you wonder briefly if there was someone staying in the room next door. such a concern was quickly overwhelmed, though, as you got used to the stretch of his fingers, began to hunger for something else.

"know 've been dreamin' 'bout you, don't you?" he asked, moving his fingers faster, "fuck, got me all worked up, all those times, doll." his smirk grew arrogant. "so mean of you."

you clutched at his tense forearm. "''m sorry, quinn," you begged, rough and wild, "please, baby, please fuck me."

he slowed his pace, let you paw at his clothes before helping move them out of the way. "ask so pretty for me," he praised, spitting into his hand, pumping himself up and down, so hard and hot against you as he lined himself up, his voice dipping down even lower, somehow, like he was speaking only to himself, as if in a dream. "been dyin' to fuck you."

you whined when he began to push into you, the stretch dizzying, making your vision swim, your chest tighten. you grabbed a fistful of a sheet with one hand, the other arm grasping for him, eventually looping around his neck, your nails digging into the tense muscles of his shoulders.

his exhale was a shudder, one you felt so deeply, so intimately, one that told you that he was feeling a similar way to you - like you were being pulled between memory and reality, what was and what would be.

the pressure felt impossible as he bottomed out, let you adjust to him. "you're, fuck," you bit out, squeezing your eyes shut, "'re bigger than i remember."

someone else probably would have smirked, said something self-satisfying, but he didn't, seemingly too lost in the feeling of you around him, of having you, like this. "open your eyes, doll," he said, strained.

you gave a slight shake of your head in protest, knowing exactly what your refusal would do to him, knowing exactly the roughness it would bring out as he began to fuck into you, slow and deep, so overwhelming and perfect you could have cried.

"don't be a brat," he ordered.

a greedy smile fell across your lips when you felt his warm palm on your throat, his hand squeezing just barely, just enough feel him, everywhere. you opened your eyes, met his dark gaze, felt yourself clench down so tightly around him.

his rhythm grew brutal. "still like that, do you, doll?" he groaned, to which you whined at the insinuation that he remembered every detail of that night the way you did. that he had remembered what you liked and didn't like so vividly, even now.

"more, baby," you pleaded, feeling your head grow fuzzy with pleasure, that pressure inside of you so extreme, heat bursting through your waterline like you were about to cry. "fuck, quinn, need you harder."

"yeah?" he rasped, releasing your neck and bringing his hands down to tease your clit, making your back arch up off of the mattress, your hips jolting. "'f you needed a good fuck, doll, should've just asked."

you whimpered at his words, so cruel, but they pushed you impossibly closer, regardless, as he placed a wide palm on your lower stomach, intensifying the sensation. "i needed it," you babbled, feeling the wet feeling of hot tears on your cheeks but not really registering anything besides him, "needed your cock, baby."

he groaned, looked up for a second as if praying. maybe he was. maybe this was something worth praying for. "can feel you close, doll," he said, his thrusts growing wild, his face flushed with exertion, "give me it, hm?"

"'m gonna cum," you breathed, not recognizing your husk of a voice as you rooted your hand in his hair.

"cum on my cock," he said, a plea, "fuck, doll, been so perfect for me, waited so good."

you came apart at his words, your vision growing dimmer even in darkness, your thighs tensing as you felt your high trigger his own orgasm, warm and wet, his rough groan louder than even the storm-heightening waves outside, somehow more powerful.

his heavy body collapsed atop yours, both of you damp with sweat, your hair sticking to your tear-stained face, his soft curls to the back of his neck. you could feel every exhale against your chest, every twitch of his muscles in your bones.

at some point, he rolled off of you, pulled you against him, so, so tight, like letting you go would be something unforgivable. his arms around you felt like a million apologies, like something solid underneath you, finally, after being seasick and dizzy for so, so long.

he traced a drowsy thumb under your eyes, collecting the remnants of tears you'd barely noticed you'd shed.

"that good, eh?" he rasped, and you could hear his smile.

you rolled your eyes, couldn't stop your own grin as you playfully slapped him on the chest, relished in his low laugh against your hand, into your hair. "hey, can i ask you something?" you said, propping yourself up on your elbow.

"'course," he said, and that alone felt like something too lovely to be true.

"will you be my date to the wedding?" you asked, and your smile grew wider at his obvious conflict of interest. "even though it means you'll lose our bet?"

he groaned, rubbed a hand over his face. "fine," he said, his eyes flashing in the dark, "but only 'cause you look so pretty like this."

you gave a light noise of excitement in celebration, leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. "and for my prize i choose," you said, trailing off, thinking, tapping a finger to your mouth in contemplation before pointing it at quinn. "you."

his gentle smile was something surreal as he pulled you even closer to him, your cheek against his chest. "done," he breathed, and when he pressed his lips to the top of your head, it was something right.

when you finally reconvened with your friends the next day at the port, savannah approached you first, pulling you in for a hug.

"i'm so sorry," she said, "i wanted to stay and wait for you, but quinn said he was going to go by himself, and then luke said i shouldn't-"

"it's okay," you said, "it all worked out. we're here now, safe and sound."

savannah's brow quirked. "you seem awfully chipper," she observed, taking a step back as if to get the full picture.

you smiled at her, and you could feel quinn smile too, next to you, your stomach flipping when he looped a hand around your waist and pulled you to him, his grip strong and sure.

sav's eyes went wide, lexi laughed. nico whispered something to jack, luke gave an exaggerated fist pump.

"well," savannah said, "took you long enough, jesus."

"wait," you said, slowly, "you knew?"

she waved you off. "of course i knew, i'm your best friend."

you gestured around to the group. "who else knew?"

lexi raised her hand as if in a classroom. you nodded, invited her to speak up. "like knew that you guys fucked a couple years ago?" she clarified, "or knew that you guys secretly were super obsessed with each other?"

"because the answer to both of those questions is yes," nico piped up from the back.

quinn was silent, his low laugh against your neck as he clasped his arms around your front, pulled you back against him.

you turned your neck to look up at him. "did you tell them?" you asked.

"i told someone who probably told them," he mused.

you fixed your gaze on luke. "you absolute drama queen," you scolded, though you were smiling.

luke put his hands up in the air in surrender. "not my fault," he said, "we would have figured it out, anyways. not like you two were doing a good job of hiding anything."

"he's got a point," quinn whispered just behind your ear.

you sighed. "fine," you conceded. "i forgive you. and i forgive all of you for abandoning me in some random seaside town."

nico huffed. "yeah, really slummin' it, eh?" he asked, "you were at a bed and breakfast for a night with your pretty-much boyfriend. relax."

quinn pinched your hip, which made you smile. "so, where are we dropping nico off?" you asked, "might i suggest a deserted island?"

"finally gets the guy she wants and suddenly she's got jokes," nico muttered.

you felt quinn smile against your neck, and you smiled, too.

the wedding, the next weekend, was exactly the beautiful occasion you knew it would be, with only the most predictable of issues and the most simple of solutions.

you walked down the aisle with quinn, whose touch on your waist lingered right before you split apart to stand on opposite sides of the altar. when you both stilled, you shared a soft smile that felt like home.

lexi walked next, arm and arm with nico. erin was somewhere in the pews, as her and lex had really hit it off, and you were pretty sure about four girls here were under the impression that they were nico's one and only date.

luke walked by himself, a ring-bearer and flower-girl, of sorts, his tie a little too loose, his suit jacket too wide in the shoulders. his friend-date, mackie, you remembered, gave an emphatic cheer when luke tripped over the carpeted aisle, stumbling on his feet.

finally, sav walked down, looking just so beautiful, alight and glowing with the sort of beauty that comes with being a kind person surrounded by those you love.

it was a beautiful ceremony.

the reception was distinct in its energy, heightened by an open bar and big dance floor.

you danced with your best friends, smiled as you watched jack and sav enjoy dances together, laughed as nico tried to juggle his several dates.

"might not have been the best idea, eh?" you asked him, once, when he passed you and luke on the dance floor.

he made a pft sound, waved you off. "i can handle it," he said, his eyes suddenly filling with alarm, "but if you see the redhead, warn me."

you danced goofily with luke for a bit, giggling at his awkward moves, mimicking them in an exaggerated way.

when the songs grew slower, lazily, you felt a hand on the small of your back that you'd know anywhere, that you'd known even in absence.

"mind if i cut in, lukey?" he asked, and you rolled your eyes at his funny wording, but luke complied with a smile, and then it was the two of you, quinn's hands around your waist, yours looped around his neck, your fingers playing softly with his hair.

"you look really pretty, tonight," you said to him, unable to hide your smile, and it was true. his unruly hair, sharp features, full lips, it was distracting. that, combined with his pressed pants and the fact that a few buttons had come undone from his shirt over the course of the night. "everyone's jealous of me, i bet."

you'd tell him a thousand times to see the way his gaze softened, the way a faint pink blush bloomed across the bridge of his nose. "thank you, doll," he said, genuineness evident in his voice, soft. "'re too good to me, yeah?"

you laughed, at this, felt it light up your face. "makin' up for lost time," you teased.

he pulled you so close to him, then, until his embrace was basically a swaying hug, a tired excuse for a dance. "got all the time in the world," he said, low, only for you, against your temple, and it felt like rebuilding a world from devastation. it felt like beginning, like living. it felt like him.

it had been you and quinn, first. it had been you and quinn, the coward and the fool, in the middle, however violently.

and, finally, it was you and quinn, now. now, and forever.

fin.

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wannab-urs · 4 months

Text

Title: Harsher Than the Bark

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: Javi makes you feel things you’ve never felt before, will never feel with anyone else, but he can’t – or won’t – love you.

Tags: smoking, probably shit spanish, smut, angst, fingering, squirting, unprotected PiV, probably unrealistic amount of orgasms (like 4 idk it’s kinda vague, choking/breath play, Javi has dom vibes but it’s not like BDSM he’s just bossy, one “good girl,” begging, religious imagery because Javi makes you see god, biting, that one position from that one scene – you fucking know the one, excessive cursing because it’s me and I refuse to change, Javi is a cuddler, emotionally unavailable!Javi, references to past arguments/past hookups because this has been an ongoing thing and I love to start in the middle of a story. Based on 505 by Arctic Monkeys, (being annoying and posting at 5:05 am) No beta we die like Oberyn WC: 1.4k

A/N: I kind of wrote this in a fever dream, I literally don't even know if it's any good. It's sort of a planned three parter, but I'm not putting pressure on myself to finish it, so each part can stand completely alone. If I write all three, it'll be called In the A.M. as in In the Morning but also because they're all based on Arctic Monkeys songs. Hope you like it <3

Series Masterlist | Javier Peña Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

The knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark Frightened by the bite, though it's no harsher than the bark

Javier Peña is probably the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. Actually, scratch that. He’s definitely the best fuck you’ve ever had in your life. He makes you feel things you’ve never felt before. Coming three times in one night with him is the absolute bare minimum. He loves it when you scream for him. Does everything in his power to get you a noise complaint from your neighbors.

And God is he gorgeous. Long and lean with strong arms, broad shoulders, a tiny waist, a perky ass. His nose looks like it was carved off a greek statue and placed on his face. He’s got these big sad brown eyes, full lips framed by a neatly trimmed mustache, and a jawline that could cut glass. You’re probably in love with him.

You put out your cigarette when you hear the door open, lay back in the bed and stare at the ceiling. It’s five in the morning, but you never turn him away. No matter what time.

“Shouldn’t leave the door unlocked, hermosa,” Javi’s deep drawl drifts across the room to you.

“Knew you were coming. Didn’t wanna have to get up.”

Javi drops his shirt on the floor and crawls up the bed, draping himself over you and pressing a kiss to your lips. “No es seguro, cariño. Anyone could walk in.” (It’s not safe, baby).

“Lo que sea, Javi.” (Whatever, Javi). You roll your eyes at him. “It’s locked now, no?”

Javi drags his lips along your jaw, nips at your throat, drags a finger through your folds. “Wet already, baby? Were you thinking of me?”

You were, but you kind of hate him for being right. “Fuck you, Jav–” his name drags out into a moan as he stuffs two thick fingers inside you. He pumps his fingers in and out a couple times before curling them up into the spongy spot inside you. You throw your head back in pleasure, back arching and hips thrusting so that you’re practically riding his fingers.

He wraps the fingers of his free hand carefully around your throat. “Mírame.” (Look at me). You force your eyes open and he’s so close you could count the individual hairs in his mustache. You look into his eyes with so much adoration, so much love, he has to look away. He squeezes your throat tighter and you close your eyes again as your cunt tightens on his fingers.

He rubs circles on your clit in time with the thrust of his fingers, feeling you wind tighter and tighter around him. His hand on your throat isn’t blocking air, but you still can’t catch your breath. When your body is so tense it feels like you’ll shatter into a million pieces, he releases the hand on your throat. You gasp in a big breath and fall apart in his hands. He works you through it with firm, slow strokes.

Just as you feel yourself start to come down, he picks up the pace again. He places the hand that was on your throat on your pelvis, holding you down on the mattress and rubs his thumb in quick, hard circles on your clit. He pumps his fingers into you hard and fast.

“Come for me, hermosa. Come all over my hand.”

Your vision whites out and you let out a near agonized scream as you clench around his fingers and gush all over him. Javi pulls his fingers out of you and slips them into your mouth. You suck the taste of yourself off his fingers.

“Good girl,” he growls in your ear. He stands up, leaving you panting on the bed, and strips his jeans off. He strokes himself as he gets back on the bed, hand still slick with your cum. He pulls your thighs over his and you wrap your legs around him. He drags his cock through your folds and watches you shudder.

“You’re soaked… You want me to fuck you?” The bastard is teasing you. You whine his name. “Las palabras, cariño.” (Words, baby).

“Need you, Javi. Please. I need you so bad,” you’re desperate, aching for him. He taps your clit with the head of his cock one more time before lining up with your entrance and pushing in. You let out an absolutely wrecked moan, voice breaking as he bottoms out.

He leans forward, planting his hands on either side of your head and pulls out before plunging back down inside you. He has your hips tilted almost vertically, driving you down into the mattress with every thrust. You dig your nails into the meat of his shoulders and drag them down his back, making him groan into your neck.

Fucking Javi is always a religious experience. You find salvation and damnation at once in his arms and you swear you see God himself when you come on his cock.

Javi doesn’t slow down despite the way you clench around him. He often works out his frustrations in your body, tries to bury them and himself in you.

He pulls out and flips you over by your hips, sheathing himself inside you the second you’re on your knees in front of him. He fists one hand in your hair and pulls your back to his chest, wrapping the other hand around your breast.

You lay your head on his shoulder and let the pleasure wash over you, lose yourself in it completely. You only exist in this moment, the pleasure and pain melding to form something divine inside you. He bites down on your neck and you come on his cock again, and you think you scream. You aren’t quite sure.

Javi groans as he slams into you one, two, three more times and collapses forward onto the bed, trapping you under him. He stays inside you for a few more moments, nuzzling your neck. His lips catch your ear lobe as he pulls himself out of you and falls to the bed beside you. He wraps his arms around you, curling his body around yours, and holds you close.

You lie in silence for a long time, just listening to each other breathe. This has become routine. Javi has a bad day at work and takes it out on your body in this bed. He never talks about it, about why he needs such a frenzied release, but you can guess.

Sometimes, though, he’ll talk about growing up in Laredo or about a nice dinner he had with Connie and Steve or about an op that went well. Sometimes he lets you see beneath his hardened exterior.

The truth is that you’re definitely in love with him. But Javi won’t ever be with you, not in the way you want. Javi won’t commit to being with you because this, what you just did, is all he thinks he deserves and all he knows how to do. He loves making you feel good, takes pride in making you come over and over and over. He loves making you moan and whine and scream for him. He loves it when you tell him how good he feels, how perfect he is, how pretty his cock is. He just doesn’t love you.

He always curls up with you, snuggles you close, clings to you. But if you bring up wanting something more, something defined and committed, he fucking runs. He can give you himself physically, but he can’t let you near his heart because it is rotten and caving in and no good. And you? You are good. He can’t touch you with that. The dark and broken part of himself. He can’t infect your good with his bad.

You know this and yet…

A tear slips from your lashes, trailing down your cheek and falling onto the arm tucked under your cheek.

“Cariño, ¿por qué lloras? (Baby, why are you crying?) He sounds… fucking anguished. “¿Te lastimé?” (Did I hurt you?)

“It’s nothing, Jav.”

Javi sits up, grabs your face in his hands and makes you look at him. “It’s something. Dime.” (Tell me).

“If I tell you, you’ll just fucking leave again, Javi. I can’t do this right now. Just hold me, please? Be here when I wake up?”

Javi searches your eyes for a moment. You aren’t sure what he sees there. Heartbreak? Resignation? Desperation? Whatever it is convinces him.

“Sure, yeah. I can do that.”

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peachyloveswriting · 1 year

Note

Hi can u do a Jealous Kyle?(THXS)

"Yeah. But you're mine." --- (Kyle Brovloski)

SUMMARY: Eric has always had the feels for you but it's really starting to get to Kyle.

WARNING: Slight smut, just making out that's it. Nothing too serious, recording. :).

NOTES: I've written in first person before and I do like it better than second person idk if it's gonna stick just lmk what you think.

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

The lunch table around me is loud, I can barely hear any coherent conversations other than my own. I find myself shouting over the table, bickering with Eric. He glares at me smugly, a glassy film over his eyes. Usually it's Kyle who yells at him but I find that the space beside me has gone silent.

"Just shut up fatass!" I snap.

He snickers at me. "Only for you."

I cringe and shake my head, adverting my gaze to the untouched plate in front of me. It's likely cold by now from being so enthralled in my argument but it's much more appealing than looking at Eric's face. I'd rather look at death in the eyes than listen to Eric make such comments about me to my face. Eric has always flirted with me though, but I've never been interested in him. It's been happening everyday since fourth grade and occasionally I stop to think; If I just said me and Kyle were dating he might stop but for the sake of my privacy, I say nothing. At the start of our relationship, we agreed to not tell anyone so we could keep it to ourselves. I was and still am perfectly fine with that, until Eric started flirting with me again.

"I'm going to go roll me one, y'all coming with me?" Kenny pipes up from the end of the table.

Kyle's hand grips mine as he stands to his feet, turning everyone's attention to us. "I'm coming." He announces. After being quiet this whole time, I feel surprised to see him suddenly jumping to volunteer for skipping class. That's not much like Kyle at all.

When we snuck out the back with our stuff, there were five of us, Kyle, Kenny, Stan, Craig, and I. Sneaking out was almost a hassle but we all managed to get away unscathed, leaving the rest of our friends behind. Now that I'm further away from school, I can collect my thoughts. Kyle never wants to openly skip like that, especially not to smoke weed.

"You sure you wanna smoke with us?" Kenny asks, looking at Kyle with curiosity. Looking over at Kenny, he shakes his head. With my hand in his, he lightly tugs me closer to his side.

"I just wanted to get out." Kyle admits sheepishly before looking ahead.

I watch Kenny's eyes widen, exchanging glances with Stan in surprise. I was honestly thinking the same thing, Kyle hasn't smoked a blunt a single day of his life and he suddenly went to smoke with Kenny. Now I know that's not actually true but that he wanted out and that never happens. Something about this whole thing is off, from openly holding hands to skipping school. It's just not like Kyle.

"If you don't mind I'm going to my car." Kyle points back towards the student parking with his thumb. Everyone bids us goodbye and he begins to pull me towards his parking spot. The silence between us feels thick on the walk over, his grip on my hand is tight. So tight that my palms are beginning to sweat. I look up at Kyle, his face is contorted into disgust and discomfort, in his eyes dances a quiet anger. One that I know is settled in his belly. I don't say anything until we reach the car, close our doors and settle in. At first I'm honestly unsure of what to say, he doesn't seem sad, but he seemed disappointed and angry. Like he's confused on what to feel and it confuses me.

"Hey." Kyle is looking out the back windshield, his arm spread to the back of my seat for leverage while he backs out. He's not looking at me. I wait until he's at a stop at the exit to grab his attention back. "Kyle, I need you to pull over up here." Kyle wat he's where I'm pointing. Though he's looking with furrowed brows and wandering eyes, he does what I ask and pulls over onto the aide of the road. His gaze meets mine, he's questioning me silently, confused by what I'm doing. I know he wants answers but I take a second to put the car in Park for him.

"Why?" He finally asks stiffly. I look back up, meeting his gaze. His eyes are searching mine for any clues. Softly taking his hand into mine and intertwining our fingers, I frown at him. There's just something he's not telling me, it's been happening for a while now. I just didn't know how to address it.

"Is something wrong?"

His face scrunches up. "What? No, Why- I'm good." Fumbling his words, Kyle shuts his lips. His gaze starts to shift away from mine, looking out the windows at other things. He's biting his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth before repeating it again. I squeeze his hand, pulling his attention back to me.

"Baby, you're not acting right. Is something wrong? Be honest."

He stares at me with contemplation falling over his looks, he's looking from my eyes, to my lips, to my hands, and finally back at my eyes. "Kinda." He says, lowering his gaze from mine and shaking his head. Suddenly a smile breaks out on my face, I knew he would say something sooner or later. A little convincing is all he needed, that satisfies a part of me that looks out for him, the one that feeds off his emotions. Not in a bad way of course.

"Tell me, I'm listening." My thumb softly brushes over his knuckles, smoothing out the skin there in time. It's a soft way to let him know I'm here, that he can speak to me. Kyle tends to shut down over certain things, some of which I haven't exactly figured out yet, but his well being matters to me. That includes whatever this is.

Slowly, Kyle shakes his head again. "I just don't like the way Cartman treats you." His eyes meet mine again. "He flirts with you all the time and it pisses me off." Venom flares from his tongue, creating a hateful edge in his voice that tells me he's annoyed. I can't help but wonder if it's because he doesn't trust me or if it's just him becoming uncomfortable.

"I'm not going to let him do anything. I promise." I squeeze his hand again, just to accentuate what I said but he shakes his head again.

"it's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't trust him. Sure, you could ignore him or tell him off but what's going to stop him from continuously thinking of you like that." A shudder rolls off his shoulders. "I don't like the thought of that."

"I don't either, but it's best if we leave it be. It's been almost seven years and he hasn't made a real move yet. I'm sure it's fine." Part of it is true but the other half doesn't feel as reassuring outside of my head, really my only goal is to sooth Kyle's worries but I seem to be interjecting myself now. He scoffs at my words and I furrow my brows. His eyes shift from discomfort to stern and sharp, an assured glare in his gaze. Maybe not directed towards me, but it sure feels like it.

"Yes, but you're mine." The roughness in his voice washes over me in a rain of tingling sensations, like tiny pellets raining down from the sky, pelting my skin. A shudder runs down my spine again. "I don't like him thinking he has a chance with you at all." Kyle finishes. Frustratedly, he points back at the school and groans at the end. Laughing softly and taking my hand away from his, I cup his cheek with it. The grin on my face can't be helped and neither can the heat, but I press forth.

"Yes, I'm yours. But maybe you should give him a reason to stop."

Suddenly it's like a fire lights up in his eyes, creating an evil grin right along with it. The cogs turning in his head are so obvious that I can practically feel the thought forming in his head. I'm unable to get my own thoughts out before he snaps his seatbelt back and presses a hard kiss on my lips. I hum in shock, my chest squeezing strangely in response. Roughly, our lips move together, a sort of sloppy manner tied in with it. Along my shoulders are his hands almost daring to pin me back against the seat and climb over. Still, they are teasingly holding me in place. I can feel one of his hands disappear from my shoulder but I'm not really looking to see what he's doing.

His teeth sink harshly into my bottom lip, pain shooting through it. Opening my mouth with a gasp, a small noise that can only be heard as a moan escapes me. Kyle begins to smile into the kiss, his other hand sliding down to my waist while slipping his tongue into my mouth. We've made out before but it's never been this intense before. I can even feel the tension building in the pit of my stomach, the kind that begs for attention. I didn't mean for it to slip out, but when it did I think both me and Kyle were shocked. "Please." The whimper is nothing more than a pathetic cry for attention, something that hitches the breath in the back of his throat for just a moment before he pulls away grinning like crazy.

"Yeah. That's right, beg for me." Callous in his voice sends a feeling of arousal between my legs, I squeeze them together in hopes of creating more but I get nothing in response.

"God damnit, Kyle." I huff.

Very slowly, with hazy half-lit eyes, Kyle pulls away. That's when I hear it, the sound of my own small plea repeating itself. My stomach twists, Kyle lifts his phone to reveal the whole thing on recording. My cheeks flood with heat and I look away, shy.

"I'm saving that for me." He mutters.

Looking back over I can see him saving it to his phone before opening up his messages. That's when I realized the name at the top is Eric's. Face red as ever I look back up at Kyle, my lips slightly agape and eyes wide. "Shit, that was hot."

Kyle snorts. Clicking the phone off, he looks at me. "I know it was. But it won't be for him."

"What if everyone sees?" I ask.

He puts the car back in drive with a proud grin on his lips. "They can look all they want." His hand comes to rest on my knee, squeezing softly. "At least they'll know you're mine."

#south park x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #south park headcanons #eric cartman x reader #kenny mccormick x reader #stan marsh x reader #craig tucker x reader

2K notes · View notes

malarign · 9 months

Text

silence

contains: crush!Riki x fem!reader | genre: fluff but with angst at the beginning | tw! yn is totally blind man idk what to tell you, mild argument with a reconciliation :)) | wc: 1,0k

reblogs are highly appreciated!!!

author’s note: i just thought it would be nice to write some continuation to shoulder nap, so hope you enjoy!

You shifted in your sleep as the sound of a ringing phone reached your ears. Scrunching your face in tiredness and lassitude you opened your eyes that soon got bigger at the sight in front of you. Just inches from your face was Riki, who slept soundly with his arms wrapped around you. You froze realizing you must have dozed off on him. What if you made him uncomfortable? Why didn’t he just wake you up?

Your living room filled with the sound of an incoming call, so you wanted to see who that was but Riki’s grip around your waist tightened.

“Don’t go,” he mumbled half awake and nuzzled his face against yours.

Freezing at his small action you felt how blush tinted your cheeks. What the hell is happening?

“Riki, it’s really late and I think it’s your phone not mine,” you reasoned, hoping it’ll make him let you get up but he lazily shook his head.

“I don’t get to spend time with you almost at all,” he said, voice low from his sleepiness. “And I hate it. If I knew I won’t be able to hang out with you as much as we did earlier, I wouldn't have become an idol.”

“You don’t mean it,” you said after a solid minute of being at loss for words. He dreamt of standing on a stage since you could remember. And now you could see a new side of him, a new smile that performing in front of seas of fans created. You loved watching it, just like you loved him.

“I don’t mean what?” His eyes met yours in the darkness. “Hating not being able to spend time with you or not becoming an idol?”

“Both?” you said quietly, but unfortunately loud enough for him to hear. How he wished he didn’t though.

“When will you finally realize?” he sent an ask into the ether.

You got up nervously and handed him his phone, pretending you didn’t hear his confession-like question. Riki looked up at you slightly sad and resigned and with a sigh took his phone which started ringing again. Accepting the call he heard Jungwon, who was either extremely nervous or furious.

“Riki? Where the hell are you?” His voice reached even your ears through his phone.

“At Y/n’s place, where else?” he snapped back.

“Do you know how late it is? Do you know who gets massive nagging from our manager?” Jungwon asked helplessly, but not hearing any response from the younger he continued after calming down a bit: “Send me her address, I’ll get you a cab.”

“No need to, I’ll get it myself.” Riki ended a call and without a word walked past you to the front door.

“Riki,” you called him before he could step out of your apartment. “Are we okay?”

His eyes filled with hurt looked straight into yours. Not wanting to say too much, he decided to not say anything. He just turned around and closed the door behind him leaving you confused, with a single crack on your heart.

Days passed and not even a single message was exchanged between you two, unusual for your long term friendship. The silence killed you from inside and in frustration of being ignored by him you decided to pay him a surprise visit. Greeting the security that by now knew you pretty well from all the times you watched their dance jam lives or other activities you made your way to the dance studio they always used.

“Y/n?” You heard Jungwon’s voice when you were about to step in. He looked at the determined expression that painted your face and without questioning you he said: “He’s alone. Please solve whatever happened cause he’s being unbearable.” Mumbling the last part he left you in front of the practice room.

You could hear music coming from inside accompanied by a few frustrated grunts. Taking a firm hold on a handle you stepped in. As soon as he saw it was you he stopped his routine and turned around to face you. Looking at him you tried to stay mad, but just like the day you last spoke his eyes showed hurt, making it almost impossible. But somehow you managed to spit out: “Are we gonna talk or you’re going to ignore me again?”

He lowered his head and glued his eyes to his feet. Already familiar silence suffocated you. He finally said weakly: “I like you, Y/n. Screw this, I love you. And I don’t know what else I have to do for you to finally realize that.”

Now it was him who searched for answers in your eyes. But the impact of his words dumbfounded you. So your stupid feelings were reciprocated this whole time?

“What?” you asked in a whisper. Tears brimmed abruptly in your eyes not believing what you just heard. “Say that again.”

The face you put on brought a smile to his lips. He stepped closer to you to the point the tips of your shoes touched.

“I love you.” His hand brushed the strand of your hair away and made you let out a shaky breath.

“Again.” Your voice was even more quiet.

“I love you.” He raised your head by your chin to face him properly.

“Again.”

Riki leaned in, laying a soft kiss on your lips. It took a while for you to respond but when you did both of you melted in each other’s touch. He cupped your cheeks as you placed yours at the back of his neck. Pulling away he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Can’t believe you didn’t see how crazy you made me feel throughout our friendship,” he suddenly chuckled.

“How was I supposed to know?”

“I literally said I wouldn’t become an idol for you, I think it’s quite telling,” he reasoned. “And please, I let you fall asleep on me, why on Earth would I let you do that?”

“Because we’re friends? Friends care about each other,” you said tilting your head.

“I cuddled you, in my arms. You think I cuddle Sunoo to sleep?” He tried to argue convincingly.

“You don’t?”

thank you for reading! back to the masterlist

taglist: (open) @nicholasluvbot, @en-chantedtomeetyou, @skzenhalove, @nfrgirl, @kpoprhia, @redm4ri, @jaelaxies, @yenqa

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idcbabyialreadylostmymind · 1 year

Text

L'appel du Vide pt.2

Pairing- Sully family x Sully!reader

Summary- You and your mother kept a secret about your self harm but how long can you keep it?

Pt.1 pt.2 pt.3

Warnings- depictions of self harm, self harm, crying, cussing

A/N- I might make a pt.3 idk yet

It had been two weeks since your mother saw you at your lowest, and everytime she looks at you like your gonna hurt yourself, you wish you could go back in time before all this happened. And every night and hour after Eclipse she comes into your room and checks on you she thinks you don't know but you do. But she hasn't told your father and you thank Eywa for that. But the tension between you and your mother certainly hasn't gone unnoticed.

But now everything was so much you were in the ground searching for your balde your mother threw across the room and you found it. You took a deep breath and put it into your bag and run to the beach we're Amhel was tied up.

Your father told you that you couldn't ride Amhel anymore but you needed space from everything even from yourself. You made it to some small remote island and sat down and took a deep breath and every emotion you've shoved out or pushed away flooded right back in. You brought the blade and rushed it across the skin of your wrist doing it multiple ways until you couldn't anymore. You out the balde back in your bag and lean into Amhel and look up at the stars.

It was an two hours past eclipse, your eyes open and Amhel chirps. You must have fallen asleep, "Shit." You whisper to yourself as you get into Amhel and rush back home. Meanwhile, you mother was searching around frantically. "Neytiri it's going to be okay." Jake was worried and the way your mother looked made his worry worsen. "No it isn't Ma Jake you don't kno-" cut off by the sound of Amhel's wings getting closer she rushes towards the beach and she looks at you searching for an injury on your body. She grabs your wrist and you wince and she tilts her head and clenches her jaw.

"Y/N where were yo-" before he could do his old school dad scolding Neytiri spoke harshly. "House now." You bite back your tongue as you walked home in your head repeating. "Stupid stupid stupid."

When you made it you didn't see your siblings. "Y/N te Suli Neytiri'ite." Your mother spoke making shivers run down your back. "What." You say just wanting to go to your room now she was taken back by how harsh your voice was. "Where were you?" She asked your father finally made it in and looked at your deadpanned expression and your mother's face that showed anger with a hint of sadness. "No where important obviously." You say sitting your bag down and Neytiri grabbed it making you rush towards it. "Hey!" Jake said in a deep loud voice. You look at your mother still no expression. "Now we're were you." He asked this time voice softer. "Just some island." You say sitting down.

"What did you do Y/N?" Neytiri asked clenching the bag. "None of your business now give me my bag." You felt cornered your defense mechanisms came up. "What's in the bag Y/N?" Neytiri asked Jake stood there way watching his wife and his daughter have some argument about something he knows nothing about. "Nothings in the bag how would you feel if I took your bow and held from you now give me my god damn bag." You felt as if a million eyes were on you. Neytiri shook her head and opened your bag and threw stuff out until she saw what she feared.

She looked at you, you had a hateful expression on your face. "Really." She said and all you did was wipe your now tear stained face. "Give it back." You say. Jake was still confused. "What is going on with you two it's like you two have something going on now what is it." He said but your eyes never left your mother she gave him the blade as tears fell from her eyes. "She's been harming herself." The words left your mom and it felt as if you had been stabbed in the back your transparent eyebrows furrowed as you turned away from your parents.

Jake looked at you the way you hid your wrist and he sat the balde down, and then it was as if it all clicked together all the excuses to why you have cuts all over yourself you caused them to yourself and he was to blind to see it, to blind to see his babygirl was hurting. "Oh babygirl no." He said you hear the painful emotions in his voice. "You don't have to do that we understand-"

"No you don't you don't understand me you don't understand how I feel like I'm just someone living another person's life, how I feel like my family isn't my family, how I feel like I'm already dead you don't understand shit now give me my shit back." You hiss at your father who only looked at you with tears in his eyes. "And stop looking at me like that!" You yell and your mother jumped back.

"Sweetheart it's okay it's okay." He's words made you dig your fingers into your arm. He saw and hugged you. "You don't have to hurt yourself any more you angry hurt me hit me kick me do anything but don't hurt yourself anymore, your my baby girl." Your arms clamped around him as you cry into his chest, like you were a little kid and that how you felt like a little kid who only wants her daddy and mama to hold her and tell her everything is going to be alright. But was it really?

Tags- @ellabellabus07 @isnt-itstrange

#avatar 2 #avatar 2022 #avatar 2009 #avatar #avatar way of water #awotw x reader #awotw #avatar x reader fluff #avatar angst #avatar x you #avatar x y/n #avatar x reader #sully family x reader #sully family #avatar x sully!reader #sully!reader

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manicpixiefelix · 3 months

Text

alone with you

{ One-Shot for head, heart, hand. }

Summary: In a slight diversion from the events of he wanted to be in love (but you got in the way), Felix finds you outside the maze, and can't bring himself to believe you're anything more than passed out. So in denial, he brings you inside, gets you cleaned up, and dwells on the events of the night before, waiting for a best friend who will never wake up.

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons. THERE IS A MOMENT WHERE FELIX PICKS UP AND CARRIES THE READER, I APOLOGISE IF THIS IS IMMERSION BREAKING FOR ANYONE.

Warnings: you are dead in this one. ANGST, felix being in absolute denial to the point where its upsetting, felix dwelling on the argument from oliver's party and being in absolute misery. sad times at saltburn. so much denial and angst. felix interacting with your dead body as if it's alive (taking care of after a night out, nothing more)

A/N: 3103 words. so this is based on this beautiful prompt by @r1dd1kulus, however i do have to apologise that i tweaked the original prompt. it's mainly now just felix being in massive, upsetting denial and a study on reader & felix & the maze & the fight. i would have loved to include the lunch scene and the family being shocked and possibly playing along, but i'm genuinly sorry but i couldn't get it to work in a way that didn't feel like Weekend At Bernie's. which is a terrible thing to refernce at the start of my arguably saddest fic yet. love u, please let me know what you think, especially because i did some fuckery with the style and formatting idk have a time :o)

The poem used in the fic is the first stanza of Love's Philosophy by Percy Shelly.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

"Fi, please -"

"God you're cold," Felix pulls you into his lap, limp, quiet, still in those beautiful green garments from the party, "can't believe you slept out here, no wonder you're freezing," he mumbled to himself. Its still early, only just broken dawn, but he's been up all night, searching for you.

Without thinking, he pulls off his robe, maroon and still fluffy from a recent wash, and gently manoeuvres you to get it on. Now in the same white singlet from the night before and his pyjama shorts, he cradles you to him.

"Sorry for getting mad last night," he mumbled into your hair, delicately picking leaves and grass from you, "and making you wait out here; I should have known," his breath catches; he holds you tighter, "really should have known, of course you'd be out here." Then, barely above a whisper, he takes your ice cold hand, "love you."

When you're quiet still, unresponsive, he thinks about how messed up you were when he last saw you, stumbling, almost faceplanting on the dancefloor, how he'd chosen to leave you like that. Another wave of guilt, another apology murmured against the cool skin of your temple. It had been a truly rough state, no wonder it had hit you so hard. So he scoops you up, keeps you close, and carries you back to the house.

"Fi, please -"

"Duncan," he calls out, seeing the tail of the butler disappearing around a corner as he cradles you, carries you up the stairs. Duncan stops, peers back around, tired look in his eyes; Felix wonders if he'd slept either, "Y/N had a rough night, we'll be taking breakfast in our room," he informs. Duncan gives a tight-lipped smile and nods, gaze momentarily sliding to you in his arms.

"Will there be anything else, Sir?" When he means is everything okay?

"That's all, thank you, Duncan," Felix returned the tight smile and continued on his way.

He's not sure if he should be annoyed or concerned at your stubbornness, but he is gentle with you nonetheless, closes his bedroom door behind him with his foot and takes you straight to the bathroom.

"I didn't mean it," he murmurs, picking the pearls out of your hair that he'd watched you meticulously place the night before. You're propped up in the bath, and he's kneeling beside, desperately hoping you'll open your eyes to the sound of his voice, "about wanting you out for the rest of Summer, I couldn't even go one night." Everything he does is with care, wiping off your makeup, "don't know what I'm going to do when the semester starts," he says distractedly, "can you pull the kind of strings to let us share a room? If anyone could it would be you."

He takes his time with removing your costume, respectful of the detail you'd put into it, not wanting to damage any part if he could help it. When he runs the bath he apologises for it being so cold at first, but makes sure it never gets too hot.

"Let's get you warmed up," he's seen you naked more times than he could ever count; there's nothing lewd about this moment, all he wants is to take care of you. For just a moment, he holds your wrist, fingers against the soft skin where your pulse should beat. It must be weak after last night, or he's misremembering and holding the wrong spot, "love, can you hear me?" ("Fi-") Fear flickers in his heart briefly, but he disregards it out of hand, "remind me to never let you get this fucked up again," he tries to calm his own nervous heart. ("Please -")

He washes the sweat and grime and dirt of the night off with the body wash of yours that he's always loved the smell of, even if his own clothes are sopping wet from the effort by the time he's done.

"Better?" No response, "well when you wake up you should be feeling better at least. Warmer too."

And he dries you, and dresses you in the most comfortable clothes he knows you own, and tucks you into bed, telling you with a sigh to sleep it off. The clothes he throws on himself are comfortable too, the sweater he chooses from the back of his closet has always been too big on him, but he feels like he needs it now, needs to pull the collar up over his face for just a second to hide in it from the world. But just a second. Because he's fine, he tells himself, everything's fine.

There's two plates of food at the door; he's not sure if you'll be up to eat your before lunch, so he puts it on the dresser, shoving aside the delicate and meticulously chosen jewels and accessories you'd collected for both costumes last night that neither of you even touched. When he thinks too hard about the disappointed, heartbroken look you'd given him when he'd disregarded so much of your hard work last night, a lump forms in his throat.

So he heads to his balcony to eat, and try not to think about last night.

"Fi, please -"

But he can't. The details haunt him with how they all blur into each other. Laughter and lights, trying to drown out the betrayal of Oliver, the way you were please edging on betraying him too it seemed. Everything getting better, getting worse in a cycle - "I'm not a monster for having a heart, Felix."

He feels like a fucking monster.

The truth he'd called audacity and blamed on the drugs in the box that you'd pushed into his hands as you'd flayed his already damaged ego -

"You just don't like what the lies he used to keep you around say about you."

"I'm done with you."

He's never regretted something so immediately, but you knew him best, if anyone was going to be able to tear him apart at the seams, it would have always been you.

"I'm done with you."

But he was too wounded to do anything but double down. Kick you out. Fuck.

"Fi, please -" he'd made you cry. He was going to spend the rest of his life apologising to you for last night, and even then he'd never feel like it was enough. Because he was fucking aching, and hated himself, and saw you through the crowd when it hit him just how badly he'd fucked up. Couldn't face himself, his mistakes. Double down; he could blame it on the alcohol or the drugs or the betrayal, but it was his own fucking fault. Fuck. Instead of just enjoying the night, he watches Oliver catch you before you can fall, and he feels the spite and self loathing in his veins.

India was pretty and willing and there. When he takes her by the hand and tells her how magical the maze is, he's only thinking of you. He's thinking of every time he'd ever suggested trying to get lost in the maze because he was bored, and every time you'd followed him in without question. He remembers making out and hooking up and giggling as the two of you hid from Farleigh and Venetia; you two knew the maze far better than anyone else did, it was your place.

And he thinks about the evening where he found you with a copy of one of the many books from the library, laying in the middle of the maze, frowning up at it. Seventeen, hiding from the last days of Summer heat before it was back to school.

"Percy Shelly," you recognised Felix by his footsteps; no-one in the world could ever know him better, "writes nothing like his wife," you announced. He's having trouble getting a read on how you feel about this. But you snap the book closed and sit up, "what are you up to?"

"I wanted to see what you were up to."

Groaning loudly, you flopped back down, clearly bored out of your mind. You announce that you want to do something, but you don't want to be around people - Felix doesn't count, Felix never counts when you talked like that, he was yours, and you were his; indefinable. So he gets snacks and you have a picnic, but as it gets dark enough to see the stars, you're still strangely in your head. He's leading, because sometimes you get like this, even at this age, so you loop a finger through one of his belt loops and trust him to lead you to safety while your focus drifts elsewhere. He's even carrying that Percy Shelly book for you. It's a years old tradition; the maze always seemed to put some kind of spell on you. Sometimes Felix could even feel it too. This place was your place, this place was magic.

When he glances back, you're looking into the hedges, fingers snagging on the leaves, dipping further in to where all the vines and branches twist together and become impenetrable. Lips moving, he can't quite hear what you're saying, surprised that you're saying anything at all, but he can't help but stop. You run into him, and it's like the spell is broken.

"Everything okay? Sorry I was -"

"- talking to yourself," he laughs, but not unkindly. Judging by your suddenly pensive expression, however, you seemed to have been at least aware that you were doing it.

"Thinking about one of the Shelly poems actually, he's actually pretty alright, even if it isn't Frankenstein."

"Wait, he's Mister Missus Frankenstein -?" it's genuinely news to him, even at seventeen himself, but you clearly find his wording endearing.

"Yeah, but he's a poet," you grin. Very suddenly you look to your hand, still out, finger looped in Felix's belt loop by his hip, "um, he's good is all," Felix isn't used to you sounding flustered and is a bit caught off guard by it. He knows you don't judge each other, you never have -

"Which one?"

"No, it's- I don't remember, I'll get it wrong or something, it's stupid, I was just trying to do some Summer reading for school -"

"Come on, you were just -"

"Dunno, Fi, I forgot!" You practically shouted, taking your hand back to cross your arms, shrinking in on yourself in a surprisingly childish manner. Felix goes very quiet as he tells you it's okay, that you should just head back, it doesn't matter. Your footsteps still follow him, however, even as he makes a wrong turn in his confused, vaguely upset state. You don't correct him, you don't leave him, you just follow him, as you always have.

He hears your deep breath when you take it, hears you sigh in the way that means you're settling yourself, and it's like he can physically feel his heart ease when he feels that same pressure by his hip. Two fingers this time, curled in his belt loop. He doesn't look back, he still gives you whatever space you need -

"The fountains, um, mingle with the river," he can hear the awkward nerves in your voice when you start speaking, but he knows better than to interrupt, "and the rivers with the ocean, the winds of -" you pause for a long time, he can only imagine your face scrunched up as you tried to remember, "gimme a sec," you muttered, "this isn't quite the part I keep thinking about so I haven't been thinking about it as much."

"Surprised you even remember this much; your memory is so cool," Felix means it very genuinely, and your abashed laughter is like music to his ears.

"Okay, I think it's; the winds of heaven mix forever with a sweet emotion..." you trail off.

"It's nice," Felix offers, but you're quiet. Actually, you stop; it tugs on his belt loop.

"'s not the part," you frown, but can't look at him, "and I keep thinking about this part, and then I feel weird for thinking about it, because I'm like, this feels... like too much. Like I feel like a freak, even though, like, we're us."

You and Felix had been YouAndFelix for years by this point.

"What poem is it?" Felix asks softly, beginning to open the book, but your face scrunches up in embarrassment, snatching it out of his hands with your free one.

"Fuck, don't read it, fine -" you tuck the book under your arm for safekeeping, wearing an embarrassed little scowl. Then, under your breath you admit, "read it like twenty times, just this one bit, it's burned into my brain it feels like." And you let go of his belt loop, crossing your arms as you nervously shift your weight from one foot to the other.

"Spit it out or I'm going to make you do it in a way that's, like infinitely more embarrassing, and I won't let you leave until you do it that way," Felix threatens. You make a face, asking what the hell he intends to do; Felix puffs out his chest, "I'm gonna make you tell me it like it's one of mum's trashy Mills & Boon novels that she thinks we don't know about; gonna hold your face real close and make you look me in the eyes while you say it," he pauses, deliberating, "I might make stupid faces, I am still deciding on that -"

"Okay," you say softly, all quiet and nervous and surprisingly sweet.

"What?"

"Just maybe," you give a nervous laugh, "don't make faces; it might be easier for me if you're being weird about it - why am I even doing this, you're not holding me at gunpoint, I can just -"

But then Felix is stepping up to you, two fingers delicately lifting your chin, leaning in so your faces were inches apart.

"Better?" Low and warm like he's straight out of a romance film, he takes the moment serious, smiling softly.

He can see in your eyes that you're still nervous, but there's no-one else in the world who looks at him the way you do. None of them have even come close; he doesn't know when exactly either of you realised, but neither of you have even of a shadow of a doubt that you love each other. Moments like this seem to remind him. The maze is a magical place.

"With," you take a deep breath, focusing on him and only him as you reiterated the last line you'd given just before, "a sweet emotion;" you swallowed hard, "nothing," you blink hard and restart, an endearingly nervous shake in your voice, "nothing in the world is single," you take a deep breath and oh, he knows you well enough, knows why the line hits you in the chest, the same as it just hit him, "all things by a law divine, in one spirit meet and mingle," you wet your lips, finally having gotten over your nerves. Your gentle smile makes this whole moment shine, "why not I with thine?"

Of course he kisses you, fucking of course he kisses you! Of course it takes the two of you another half hour to get out the maze despite the entrance being around the corner, what's he going to do? Not make out with you until the two of you can barely breathe? No! He'd drown himself in you and that moment if he was physically capable of it? He's never felt so damn romanced in his life!

YouAndFelix. You are his. He is yours. Undefinable. Inseparable.

In the present he was barely eating anything compared to the amount he was tearing apart until it was essentially breakfast sand. He'd felt drunk and betrayed and desperately wanted to hurt you. It was the easiest way to hurt himself.

So he took India to the place he spent years falling in love with you, and defiled that magical sacred damn space, with his cock in the first poor, willing girl who didn't even matter to him.

"Fi, please -"

He needs you to wake up soon, needs you to say something, needs you to say anything to band aid over that stupid fucking fight that he wishes more than anything that he could take -

"Fi, please -" You were sobbing. You were fucking sobbing, begging, and he left.

"Felix, darling," his mother's voice from downstairs, peering up at the balcony. Hand up, shading her eyes, the workers move around her, clean up as if she's not even there, "is Y/N still with you?"

"Yeah -" asleep, asleep, warm and resting and tucked in and safe and sleeping it all off, every bad thing from last night. Wake up. Let me say sorry.

"Duncan said they were under the weather, is everything alright?"

"Sleeping off last night," he keeps playing with his breakfast sand. The jam holding it together makes it look like viscera. Too much jam. Too much blood. Too much. All too much.

"Will you both be making it to lunch? We're about to serve."

"Yeah, I'll -" what if you don't wake up for lunch? What if it's worse than he thought? Or what if you're still being damn stubborn and the joke's on him.

Please let the joke be on him. After last night he deserves it.

"- we'll be there."

He'll do anything for you to wake up.

"You're right," he should have said, "I know you're right. I know you're trying to help me because I can't see clearly because I don't want to face the world if that's what Oliver thinks of me. Because I love him. I love him for who he is now, I don't care where he came from, but it makes me sick to think that Oliver thought I couldn't love him - couldn't even spare him a second glance, if I didn't, at first, think I have to save him.

I use the people I love. I take everything for granted, even myself. Even you; especially you. I love you the most, I use you the most. I know I don't want to lose one of the people I love the most because he bruised my ego. I know you want me to see that. And I do. And I see how good you are to me, how good you've always been.

YouAndMe. You're mine; I'm yours."

"I'm done with you."

And the last thing he hears from you is the despair in your voice, cry as he leaves -

"Fi, please -"

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #saltburn x reader #felix catton x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

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jxckchxmpi0n · 4 months

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Jack champion x fem reader and he plays spiderman and reader is mj?

I'm going to make this into some headcanons

hope you enjoy <3

Being Ethan's mj headcanons

did not proofread |m.list

update : I just now realized that after posting this what you were asking I will 10000% rewrite this as its supposed to be!! I'm so sorry I hope this is okay for the time being! idk why it took so long for my brain to realize what you were actually asking for :(((((

Happy New Year babes!!!! I hope you all had a great new year's and were safe! I'm so excited for this new year and to grow my account. I am going back to school next week, so the requests are going to come out slowly, but I am writing them. I will try to post once or twice a week but I no promises <;3 I love you all so much and thank you so much for your support it really means so much to me.

You didn't know who Ethan was before your junior year in high school. both of you got paired up for a science project and ended up hitting it off and became close friends.

Chad would try to get Ethan to ask you out, he would be sad for weeks after you both finished the project, unable to see each other after classes had changed.

After a fight with some jock, you saw him hanging outside trying to clean up the cuts on his face, you would end up helping him and get to talking.

"Listen Ethan I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to go out sometime." he would just stare at you in disbelieve, he'd be smiling so much the cut on his cheekbone started to bleed again.

From there on it was official you were in a relationship with him, he would always meet you up after school take the long way home just so he could be with you longer.

After a few months there was a change in how he was acting, you also noticed something different about him but couldn't put your hand on it.

This weekend it was longer due to some holiday and you, and Ethan had planned to spend the entire weekend together watching Star Wars and building Legos, but Ethan's mind had been so wrapped up in his new actives that he forgot.

Crawling through his window he heard his aunt talking, but he also heard another voice, and it was yours. His heart beating faster, just hearing your voice has that effect on him.

But thinking about your voice distracted him from realizing you were walking to his room, once he saw the door handle move panic set in.

Quickly he fell from the ceiling and grabbed a blanket but tripped himself in the process. "Ethan? when did you get home?" and before you both knew it you were holding the blanket while he shot up holding a hand to your month to stop you from yelling.

"Please, don't say anything! My aunt doesn't know yet you can't tell anyone!" his voice was harsh yet soft and scared. He was scared with how you were going to act.

"You're fucking spiderman! Holy shit! Holy Shit" you dropped the blanket and jumped into his arms. he stood there for a second confused, he eventually gave in wrapping his arms around you. feeling the warmth of your body against his. He felt safe with you.

"You have to tell me everything! and oh my god I have so many questions! but also you idiot!" you slapped him aside the head laughing but also giggling at the fact that your boyfriend is spiderman.

From there on you would help him fix his suit if he ever needed it or cover for him if a lie came back to haunt him.

Some nights he'd come to your window sharing all the details about some sandwich robbery he stopped.

There would be times where it's hard to be with Ethan, you sometimes thought he loved being spiderman than being with you. His actions spoke more than words could at times.

Bailing on date nights, sometimes right in the middle of your date. You love him and love seeing how much joy he gets out of helping others, but it also takes a toll on your relationship.

After an argument about how you felt he bailed out on you not wanting to say something he'd regret.

Things just got harder from there, you both agreed that you'd be better off apart, but you both lied to yourself.

Ethan thought it was better only to keep you safe from the criminals, and you thought it was all stupid. Knowing spiderman is who he is but he's also Ethan Landry the love of your life.

Soon things would take a turn for the worst as one of his enemies found out your importance to spiderman. Kidnapping you and using you as a pawn to trap him.

Ethan's heart would break seeing you in so much pain, even after trying to leave you to keep you save it did nothing. there you sat in front of him after he fought the villain. He didn't know what to do.

Both of you scrapped and bloodily up all you want to do is be in his arms. And just like before he stood shocked for a moment feeling your body against his.

It felt so right, wrapping his arms around your body he held you tight, tighter than he ever has. "I'm so sorry y/n please I'm so sorry i love you" he tucked his head into your neck, the faint smell of your perfume filled his nose.

"Don't ever leave me ever again! I'm being serious" you hugged him as tight as he did to you. "And I love you too."

#jack champion #ethan landry #scream vi #ethan landry imagine #ethan landry x reader #jack champion imagine #jack champion x reader #spider avatar #ethan landry smut #ghost face x reader #spiderman ethan landry #ethan landry x you #jack champion is all i think about #jack champion fluff #jack champion fanfic #avatar spider #avatar way of water #avatar

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hyunjinners · 4 months

Text

𝐑𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 - Stray Kids Headcanons

𝗦𝗨𝗠𝗠𝗔𝗥𝗬 - During a serious argument he attacks you, raising his voice with hurtful words. || 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 - hyung_line¡ x fem!reader || 𝗚𝗘𝗡𝗥𝗘 - angst, sad, established relationship, fights. || 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 - possible trigger, fight, offensive words (maybe swearing? idk) || 𝗪𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗦 𝗖𝗢𝗨𝗡𝗧 - ?? (I got a little carried away ;) || 𝗔/𝗡 - I really love sad themes, I think it makes me immerse myself in the story in a cool way. Remembering that these are just fictitious situations and that nothing in this chapter matches reality, in other words, just an imaginary scenario created by a fan, nothing is linked to the boys' real attitudes or personalities! Hope you like it, Remembering that English is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling errors. Have a good read! feedbacks are welcome. 🤍🌼

⊹₊˚ʚ❛masterlist❜ɞ

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 ¡!

You two are definitely what people identify as the perfect couple, always understanding and understanding each other, But that doesn't mean you don't have your differences. You guys don't really like to fight, usually just silly fights or small vows of silence that are eliminated at the end of the day with a warm hug and kisses with vows of love. Chan wasn't one to raise his voice and neither were you, but perhaps due to the stress of the day, this discussion became loud and noisy.

You just wanted to spend time with him, as you were busy with your work throughout the week and barely got to see each other, but he just tried to explain how much he needed to finish reviewing some tracks and that he was too tired to do that. You rebutted tiresome arguments until he simply exploded at you, "CAN YOU PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE? SHIT! I just want you out of here, can't you see that I never wanted you here?" He shouted at you and you remained static in your place. Your eyes widen and you can't swallow the lump that forms in your throat. You couldn't speak, in pure shock and, as incredible as it may seem, he was no different. Regret and worry fill his chest in an overwhelming way instantly and he feels nothing short of guilty.

He opened his mouth, stammering failed attempts at an apology, his eyes glistening with tears that matched yours, that overflowed and ran down his face. Chan's heart sank as he realized that the cause behind your tears was him, wishing you would realize that he didn't really mean it. "...all good. I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want." You spoke softly, unable and tired of debating with him. "No- love…I'm sorry, I- that's not what I meant, please…" He whispered, trying to get to you, but it was too late. You were leaving his apartment with a broken heart and a new insecurity hanging over you, wondering if during your relationship he had thoughts like this, if he felt uncomfortable with your presence. It could have been a misunderstood mistake for Chan, words spoken without thinking that he bitterly regrets, but for you, it was a new milestone in your relationship.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ¡!

Your relationship from the outside has always seemed a little strange. Minho is not the type to show affection in public and loves to make jokes to annoy you, but you know he means nothing and you know he respects and loves you above all else, so you never really cared about it, always taking it in stride. However, this nagging side of him gains strength when it comes to arguments and you find it particularly irritating. He has a strong temper during fights, being stubborn in his ideas and opinions, making it impossible for you to reach an agreement. You don't fight often, but when it happens, it takes you days to resolve it, out of sheer stubbornness and pride on both sides.

The stray kids' comeback was just around the corner, less than a month away and everything was moving quickly. Minho, who has always been committed to his work, he was working hard this week and his mood was technically sensitive, so to speak. You, being a good and understanding girlfriend that you are, He thought about something throughout the week to try to alleviate some of his tension, usually affection placed on your private person made everything better.

When he didn't show up at the dinner you prepared especially for him, you tried to be understanding because you knew Minho's physical and mental exhaustion. It was almost midnight when he appeared tired and sullen. He had stated that he would arrive on time, so you asked him why he was late. You remained calm throughout the conversation, but when he said he preferred to go out to eat with the boys and forgot about you, you felt the burning start to rise in your throat, "Minho, I really don't understand you. I really tried hard to see the good in you and you just act dismissive like it's nothing, as if we were nothing…” the anger was evident in your voice, but you couldn’t fight back, and apparently neither could he. He sits on the living room couch, leaning with his elbows resting on his knees as he runs his hands over his face and hair. He stands up looking into your eyes and you could see a different glow in his eyes, he was exhausted and angry.

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF YOU'RE SO NEEDY! I'm tired of this, if you're going to be clingy like this, stay far away from me." Her eyes flutter unconsciously, your vision blurred by the tears that accumulate. You bite your lip in an attempt to contain them, you didn't want to cry in front of him. Minho clenches his fists as he slowly watches your reaction, scared of himself. He couldn't say anything, but you knew he wanted you to stay. He was sorry. You let out a shaky breath nodding your head, “right… whatever you want.” Minho felt helpless watching you forcefully close the door of a now cold and empty apartment, his absence making him feel incomplete. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't find words in his mind, only the fear of losing you, because he knew it was all his fault. And you, the uncertain doubt as to whether this would be a lasting relationship.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 ¡!

You have been friends since you were very young, always supporting and helping each other and that was a good reason for you to almost never fight and if you do, They make up very quickly, reaching a consensus that they both made a mistake at some point. He was always very sweet, so usually he would apologize first, unsure that maybe you would abandon him and that hasn't changed since he asked you to be his girlfriend. And that fact scared you because of what happened. He was never really jealous, it was more like fear and insecurity, but you always assured him that you loved him and he always trusted you. But this time it was different and you didn't understand where it came from. You have been invited to an alumni reunion at your old school where you graduated from high school.

You met many old colleagues but there was one in particular that you both were somewhat uncomfortable with. The boy was an ex-boyfriend of his and tried to start a conversation with you. The atmosphere during the event got a little heavy when he clearly looked at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. At the end of it all, Changbin rushed you home and when they arrived you immediately questioned him, worried about his change in mood. Of course, you weren't stupid, you knew everything was involved in this specific situation, but you were still worried about whether he would be okay. You thought he was angry because the guy was clearly inconvenient, but when he confronted you asking why you were paying attention to him you were confused.

It was supposed to be just a conversation, but it all piled up and became a noisy mess. You didn't want to change, but he knew it was unfair for him to place non-existent blame on you and he wanted to defend himself. "Binnie, I don't understand what I did. I swear I-"

"Don't you understand?" He interrupts you, anger overwhelming him and making his next words come out unconsciously, "YOU WERE CLEARLY HITTING ON HIM! I don't even know why I'm still wasting time being with you, honestly." Silence. You watch him in silence. You felt like you didn't need to say anything else because apparently everything that was stuck in your throats was carelessly deposited one above the other, weight forming on your back. Still scared by his response, you pick up your bag that was on the coffee table and quickly walk towards the entrance. You stop abruptly when you feel your wrist held by Changbin, strong but still light so you can let go. "My love, please- I, I don't know what came over me... forgive me but please don't go." Tears roll uncontrollably down Changbin's face and it makes his heart hurt even more, but you remember that he was the reason your heart was broken in the first place. "...I need to get away from you for today, Changbin." You go out. Now there were two hearts broken by an insecurity that unconsciously generated another.

𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 ¡!

Hyunjin is definitely a hopeless romantic, so it's almost impossible for you two to fight. Of course, there is no perfect relationship, but your fights, If you can call it that, they are small arguments over silly things and, if they fight over something serious, It's discredited in a short time since you can't stand being away from each other, especially if you're fighting. You've been together for almost a year, but even with this considerable passage of time, Hyunjin hasn't taken you to meet his parents. Of course, you didn't care so much, you knew and respected the limits imposed by Hyunjin, knowing that he just wanted to be sure if it was meant to be. But with your one year anniversary approaching, you couldn't help but feel a little insecure, naughty thoughts about herself invading her head like an avalanche of worries.

It was quite late when you were sitting in your room studying as usual. You were so immersed in your duty that you missed the sound of the front door. Not long later, you hear the clanking of dishes in the kitchen and notice Hyunjin's presence. Entering the kitchen, you watch him prepare some ramen for himself, a tired expression was visible on his face and sighs constantly left his lips. He looked exhausted and your heart squeezed seeing him like this. He doesn't seem to notice his presence, huffing impatiently at the water that was heating up. You surround him from behind, your arms hugging his waist and placing your head on his shoulder. He trembles a little from the fright, leaving it a little stiff. "Hey, my love. Relax, it's me." You laugh, patting his right shoulder.

"Sorry, I'm really tired today, y/n." He walks away to get the cutlery from the cabinet, you sigh, moving away to respect his space. "You know, Jinnie… I've been thinking and our anniversary is coming up, in less than a week." He looks at you for a few seconds, seeing where you're going and then goes back to what he's doing. Okay, his disdain brought a small pang to her heart. "And I thought maybe, just maybe, Can you take me to meet your parents." His voice was a little louder than a whisper and he stopped what he was doing. He ran his hand abruptly through his hair, looking at her with a different light in his eyes. "Look, I just want to eat this ramen and sleep, I don't have time to listen to that shit again." You were trying to be understanding, but you insisted. “I know, but- but I’m afraid you’re… ashamed of me. That's why I'm insisting on the matter. I know you're tired-"

"SO WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE? If you're well aware that you're being a pain in the ass, just shut up and leave," he says all this with a humorless laugh on his lips, "Maybe I don't really want to take her to meet my parents, maybe this will make me rethink whether our relationship is really worth it." That was the last straw to spill the water in his cup of anxiety. You could no longer blame it on tiredness. You didn't mind crying in front of him, but you felt helpless. You take a step back, uselessly drying your tears. You go up and grab your bag quickly, heading towards the main door, not bothering to look back. Hyunjin pulls her towards him, lightly holding your arms and looking into your eyes. "My love, please, please don't, don't go! I was wrong, I- I really shouldn't have said that-"

"But you said it, and you can't take it back. I'm going to sleep at my friend's house. I want to get away from you as soon as possible." You cut him off, now you were the one who was tired. You hurt him too, but he cut you first and plunged the knife deep into the wound.

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𝗔/𝗡 - I'll be posting the maknae line soon! I confess that I didn't intend to write something long, but I really can't write something with less than 500 words 😭 I hope you liked it. Please don't forget to leave comments, I'm happy when I hear your opinion on my chapters ;) like × reblog!¡ original by:: @hyunjinners ^-^

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christhopersturniolo · 24 days

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୨ LOSING YOU ୧

SUMMARY: You and Chris argue cause you don’t trust him enough, you’re way too ‘toxic’.

WARNINGS: Angst, cussing.

NOTES: English is not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake.

୨୧

I sigh, annoyed by all this argument “Then let me see your phone, Christopher.” I extend my hand, for him to hand me it.

Chris turns off his phone and looks at me “Do you know how stupid you sound right now Y/N?” Chris scoffs, like i’m crazy. His tone dripping with disbelief.

“Stupid?” I repeat in the same tone as him “Now I sound stupid for not wanting to be cheated on?” He starts to get up from the bed, with each step he gets closer to me.

“You gotta stop with all your bullshit, I seriously can’t take this anymore. You are fucking paranoid!” He says loudly in my face. “I've never given you any reason to doubt me! Do you know how many times you’ve asked to go through my phone?!”

My eyes never leave his. “Do you know how many girls you follow on instagram? I know you get upset every time I mention this but it’s true! You get all defensive and what? I have reasons to be paranoid! So yeah, I’m paranoid and it’s because of you!”

“I get ‘defensive’ and all ‘upset’ cause I would never cheat, and you make me feel like I already did!” His hands moving wildly.

He keeps coming, not letting me talk. “You are fucking insecure! I’m not like your exes! You gotta stop projecting your shitty insecurities on me!” at this point I don’t even know what to answer, cause it’s true.

“Maybe if you were honest with me this wouldn’t be happening” I say with a shaky voice.

“Oh you want honesty don’t you? Fine!” He aggressively starts unlocking his phone with his thumb and putting it into my hands “Take this shit! See if this discussion is worth it!”

I hesitate. Tears blur my vision as I struggle to hold his phone in my trembling hands. “I can’t” I choke out, my voice barely audible “I don’t wanna do this, Chris” I sniff, avoiding eye contact “Maybe I am insecure, and I hate it.”

He sighs. Christopher’s expression softens slightly as he sees my tears fall, but his frustration is still there “I just want you to trust me, Y/N.”

I look up at him with my watery eyes “And I want to trust you, I swear, but it’s so hard when my past keeps fucking haunting me.”

“I understand…” Chris murmurs, his voice becoming more gentle “but if we are going to make this relationship work, you have to stop being so paranoid and untrusting.” He cups my cheeks with his hands, wiping my tears away with his thumbs “I love you, and I would never hurt you, so please just put some trust in me, okay?” I nod “I'm here for you. I want to help you through this. You have no idea how much I hate seeing you acting like this, it makes me genuinely sad.” He pulls me into a hug, I lay my head on his chest.

“I’m scared of losing you..”

He keeps me close for a while. “I know you are.. But I’m not going anywhere.” He says softly, his hand running through my hair “I’m always here for you..”

୨୧

this was a short one

idk if i like it, i think they changed moods way to fast lmao

taglist: @thebottledwatersupplier @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @orangelala @annamcdonalds67 @lilo7sworld @soso-scarlettolivia @junnniiieee07

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joekeeryswife · 21 days

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I saw you did an Alex fic and omg I loved it but do you think you could do like an angsty fic where idk like Alex and the reader get into an argument and then the reader goes to miles to comfort but then Alex finds out and gets more mad?? Idk thats js an idea but angst pleaseee🙏🙏

Fight - a.t

a/n: hey loves, thank you for the love on my last imagine! i rushed this and didnt know how to write it. i will do a part two if you guys want! sort of hate this icl so i might re-write it 🫶🏼

also please send me alex requests! i also now do instagram aus 🫶🏼

“why do you always have to do this Alex? i’m just trying to keep this relationship going and all you’re doing is ignoring me. all the time. i feel like i’m talking to a brick wall” you shout at him. for weeks he had been avoiding you, coming home late and leaving super early in the morning. whenever you did see each other all you did was fight and you hated that.

“i don’t know y/n maybe because you’re so insufferable that i don’t want to be here?” he shouted back, he could feel his body getting hot. he was mad but he didn’t mean what he said. he had been so caught up with writing and singing that he had hardly spent time at home with you and it was getting to both of you. “what? that’s just fucking rude Alex. i have no idea what is going on with you but you’re not the alex i fell in love with. you’ve changed and i barely see you now”

you didn’t mean for this fight to start. he had come home somewhat early and you’d asked him to sit and watch a film with you but he’d rolled his eyes saying he didn’t want to spend time with you and that’s how you got here. “y/n i don’t want to spend time with you okay? just leave me alone” you felt your eyes fill with tears, nodding your head you made your way to the front door.

you slipped on your shoes and grabbed your keys “where are you going now?” you scoffed at him. “didn’t you just tell me to leave you alone? so i’m leaving you alone.” you quickly slipped out of the door and slammed it shut behind you making him flinch as the house shook. he sighed, walking to the sofa and sat down groaning at himself for what he’d done. “fucking idiot mate” he rubbed his forehead in annoyance, he had royally fucked up.

Alex sat on the sofa for forty minutes until he realised he needed to go and look for you. he’d messages all your friends and you weren’t at any of theirs and he was starting to get worried. even though he was frustrated, stressed and annoyed he was still worried about you. he stood up and decided he would go to Miles’ house to try and get him to help look for you.

-♡-

you had somehow ended up at Miles’ house. he had been alex’s best friend for years and you two had become close when you and Alex started dating. you just needed someone to talk to who understood Alex and what he was going through and your friends wouldn’t understand.

you were both sat on the sofa opposite each other, you were sobbing and Miles felt awful. “i just- i don’t know what’s happened to him. we used to be so in love and he has changed so much” you sniffled. you wanted your relationship with Alex to work out, you’d been together for four years, engaged for a year and planning a wedding yet he was distant.

“he spoke to me the other day, told me that you hadn’t been getting along and that he was really stressed with writing. apparently the label are being arseholes and are stressing him out, keeping him at work till late and he hates being away from you. i think he’s just very stressed and it’s not right him taking it out on you but i don’t think he means it” Miles tried to comfort you, you had no idea Alex had been feeling like this and honestly it made you feel even worse.

“do you think there’s anything i could do to help him? i don’t want him feeling like this and i want to help him” you wiped your cheeks, you still felt sad at how Alex spoke to you but you felt even more sad that Alex was feeling just as awful.

Miles went to talk but was cut off by banging on his front door. he frowned but nevertheless got up and went to go open the door. “Miles, thank god. i haven’t heard from y/b and she’s not with any of her friends. i need you to help me try and find-” you heard Alex and quickly turned to look at the doorway. he looked frantic, and his face changed from worry to anger in a matter of seconds. “y/n what the fuck? i haven’t heard from you i was worried sick” he shouted at you making you flinch.

“Alex i’m sorry but i just-” you tried to speak but he cut you off. “no y/n. i was so worried about you, you didn’t even reply to my messages and you’re here with my best friend? we have a fight and this is the first place you come too?” he shouted at you making your eyes fill with tears yet again.

you hadn’t even realised that he was messaging you, you were so focused on speaking to Miles checking your phone had completely slipped your mind. “do you have any idea how worried i was? i thought something had happened to you and this whole time you were here with Miles. that’s ridiculous y/n” Miles shook his head and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder to try calm him down.

“come on mate she didn’t mean to ignore you, we were just talking about what had happened it wasn’t her fault it was mine” he tried to defuse the situation but it was no use. “no Miles don’t try take the blame. y/n you done this on purpose, you’re just so selfish i can’t believe this is where you were. is something going on between the two of you? so that why you came here?” you were shocked at what you were hearing. you would never ever cheat on Alex.

“what? are you joking?” he stood there, his face not changing one bit as he awaited your answer. “that is almost laughable that you’d even think that. i love you. i’m still madly in love with you and im sick and tired of you talking to me like im a piece of shit” tears were now flowing down your cheeks as you stood up and barged past him, making sure to knock his shoulder.

“well, you really fucked that one up Alex” Miles sighed. Alex bowed his head, he had pushed you away and been so rude to you that now you’d left him. he’d lost you and he’d never regretted something more in his whole life.

#fanfiction #imagines #alex turner x fem!reader #alex turner x y/n #alex turner x reader imagines #alex turner x you #alex turner masterlist #alex turner fluff #alex turner imagines #alex turner imagine #alex turner x reader #alex turner #alex turner one shot #alex turner arctic monkeys #alex turner angst #alex turner fic #alex turner fanfic #alex turner blurb

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