walk with me now, juju and her gf arguing because juju hasnât been around lately and reader gets tired of it, and theyâve been ignoring each since so to get her mind off of things her bsf takes her out to a party or smth, juju finds out and is mad because reader didnât tell her where she was going, and a other stuff but idk what
đ„» COLD COUCH. juju watkins x reader
reblogs + comments are more appreciated than likes.
synopsis: jujuâs absence leaves nothing but a cold couch you wake up to and a hole in your heart that you try to fillâlucky for you, your girlfriend has common sense.
notes: hi lovely! iâm so sorry i got to this request so late, i thank you for your patience. juju and the reader donât necessarily ignore eachother for long, but they definitely donât speak for long enough to be concerned!!! this all happens in the span of one day because me thinks juju would never leave you with a heavy heart for too long⊠unless itâs toxic juju. but this isnât toxic juju nonono ⊠but anyways !!! i did my best to make your vision come true and i hope you enjoy it <3
cw: arguing, juju is a tiny bit conceited but guys sheâs a celebrity, partying, reader drinks alcohol but not to the point itâs detrimental, kind of fast paced because iâm using dividers, reader and juju are both down bad in their own ways
it canât be helped, and you know that. sheâs juju watkinsâ the face of womenâs collegiate basketball, with multiple awards to show for it. but juju, in all ten months and fourteen days of being your girlfriend, has never once missed a date. she made sure to make time for you, always showing up and going an extra mile: flowers, ironed outfits, an extra clean car even though itâs already clean, and most of allâthe biggest smile on her face. you loved that part the most; the telling sign she was happy to see you, to spend time with you, to relax.
you havenât seen that smile in a while. thatâs usually what occurs when you date a D1 athlete with like 20 NIL deals.
you havenât seen that smile in a long time.
you thought you would be able to. you had texted juju two weeks ahead of time telling her to keep herself free today, tonight, and you had tore the internet apart finding the best recipesâsubsequently ending up with a splitting headache from looking at the directions too much to make sure you followed them perfectly. perfect; thatâs what you wanted this night to be. youâd greet juju with a kiss to her cheek and a tight hug, then youâd eat dinner, then youâd watch a movie, youâd cuddleâ juju would fall asleep first, hopefully, and then youâd steal her hoodie because she always took off her hoodies whenever she wanted to cuddle with you. sheâd pretend she didnât know you stole it, and sheâd leave the next morning feeling lighter in more ways than one. the first because she didn't have her hoodie on, and the second because you soothed her enough to, for once, just stay in the present.
you hoped youâd be able to bring her the peace you knew she deserved. you set up the table, and even had the blankets and pillows all ready. infact? netflixâs searchbar was already waitingâand as you plated jujuâs portion of the dinner you hoped you cooked right, the only thing you were waiting for was juju.
juju, who shouldâve been here by now.
did she get caught up in traffic? she shouldâve texted about that. she hasnât texted you at all today.
she hasnât texted you a lot in general these past few weeks.
you sit on the edge of your kitchen counter despite the chair you already pulled out being right infront of you, because a part of youâ your heartâdoes not want to sit alone. you scroll through your phone absentmindedly, until a notification snaps you out of your zone. itâs juju.
juju posted something on her storyâanother common mainstream logo in your face directly confirming itâs some sort of brand dealâ and... wait, why would she be posting about brand deals? isnât she supposed to be on her way to you right now? she said sheâd be able to make it.
you find out it wasnât just a brand deal, but a brand trip. jujuâs not even in the same area code as you right now. jujuâs away.
you call her the moment that it clicks.
the phone rings for way too long, and you count the seventh ring before she picks up with an exasperated, âwhat? what is it?â
she repeats your name, impossibly more exasperated: âwhat is it? iâm on a cruise right nowââ
âyour food is cold.â you say, simply. there is silence on the other line and you donât know if it is from realization and subsequent guilt, or complete and utter apathy. you donât want it to be the latter. you donât speak any more.
judeaâs voice comes out on the other end of the line. itâs slow, low, and barely apologetic. âi had a last minute offer.â
âand you didnât think to tell them you werenât free today? tonight? because you would beâ or you were meant to be having dinner with your girlfriend?â you reply, snappy, your sweaty hand gripping your already-heating-up phone too tight. youâre exasperated, obviously. you saw juju mark this date on her calendar appâ she had it labelled âdate with my babyâ with three exclamation marks. god forbid you believe sheâs genuinely eager to see you.
you hear her click her tongue on the other line. âi warned you about shit like this,â she responds, her tone more angry than exasperatedâmore uncaring than the (barely) apologetic tone you previously heard.
âi scheduled this with you two weeks in advance, ju,â you countered, âdonât give me that excuse. donât- donât even give me excuses.â you choke on your words, simultaneously choking on your own pride. you wait. she speaks again, and itâs another excuse.
âi just havenât seen you in a while, and i missed you,â you say,
âiâve been busy, you know how it is,â she replies,
âbut you promised youâd be able to make it.â
âsee now, i didnât promiseââ
âyou said youâd be able to make it, juju.â you interrupt.
âyeah, and i just got ⊠sidetracked.â
âwhat do you mean?â you ask.
âyou know what i mean, ma,â she murmured,
âno. i donât. you said you could come last weekâ but now youâre not even here because of a last minute offer. am i being put to the side now?â your response is curt, and by now, things get noticeably more tense.
âgod, can you stop doing that?â juju says on the other end.
âdoing what? iâm just saying the truthââ you tried to reason, becauseâ side tracked? did she mean she put you on the sidelines? what did she mean? more importantly, what else could she possibly mean?
âitâs not always about you.â juju says, finally.
sheâs right, and you say so.
âyouâre right,â you say, voice breaking. âitâs not always about me. thatâs why i havenât been texting that much, or asking to hang out,â you begin, âor asking for too much,â thereâs a lump in your throat, and a crack in your heart, but you press on. âbecause i know youâve been busy. but juju, you said youâd beââ
âand now i canât.â her voice cuts, her tone cutting. juju isnât yelling, but her voice is low and outright cruel when she says your nameâ she says it as if it disgusts her to say, and when you hear her on the other end, your ears start to ring.
âiâm a fucking celebrity,â she continues, âi canât be at your beck and call immediately when you say,â
âthatâs why i scheduled you two weeks inââ you tried to interrupt,
âyeah, and this brand's been eyeing me for way longerâcome on, i couldnât flake out on a deal like this. they asked for whenever i was available, and tonight was really the only night because it was just youââ
itâs just you, she says. itâs just you. juju obviously doesnât want your company, doesnât she?
you eat your plate alone. itâs still warm, but that doesnât mean itâs good; the call with juju left a bad taste in your mouth. now jujuâs plate is in the fridge labelled as leftovers youâll probably never eat. you remove the extra pillow from your couch and use both blankets for yourself, playing another episode of your favorite show, tuning out the entire night despite hoping with all of your heart that youâll have missed calls and texts from juju when you next check your phone.
you feel the lump in your throat still. you swallow it.
you wake up in the morning on the same couch, and you shiver at how cold it is. juju usually brought you the warmth.
you check your phone and you canât swallow the lump anymore.
there are no notifications. your friend, bree, texted you about some party and how all her âfyne shytsâ were coming, but you could barely read the rest of the text because of how blurry your eyes were.
there were no calls. there were no texts.
there was only silence, and it sent you into a spiral.
bree opens the door with the extra house key you gave her and a single knock to see you slumped across your couch completely and utterly miserable. you look at her, and she looks at youâbree, psychology major, miss know it all, looks at you and instantly knows.
âtrouble in paradise?â
you burst into tears. breeâs kitten heels clack on your floor as she sits next to you and places your head in her lap, urging you to vent it out. âitâs good to get stuff like this out, hun,â she murmurs, âiâm saying this as a future therapist.â
you, three minutes into your wailing, will yourself to calm down for a momentâ usually, when bree says that, it means she has something else to say, but âas my friend?â
your hunch is correct. bree tilts her head and looks down at your very miserable form curled up into a fetal position. âi say we get wasted tonight.â
thatâs how youâre here now.
the bass is booming in your ears, and usually youâd leave solely because itâd make your head hurtâbut right now, your heart hurts more. you could care less about the head ache you know youâll get. youâre free right now. your phoneâs charged, your arm is entwined with breeâs, and with every click of your heels you grow livelier. eyes flutter towards you by instinct, and they stay on youâyouâre not wearing anything given to you by juju. this is your dress, these are your heels, and this is your jewelryâ everyone seems to get the message.
tonight, you speak for yourself.
youâre bound to judea, but she isnât pulling her leash, so youâll stray. youâll stray far, until she either lets go or you choke yourself.
bree looks at you with a soft smile, and tells you to drink safe knowing youâll get absolutely knackered whether or not you drink. she pinky promises not to separate from you.
the gods may not have blessed you with a good week, but theyâve blessed you with a good friend.
three hours in, and your heels are already off and in your hands, and youâre three drinks in, and youâre dancing, and bree has her arm around you and is singing the lyrics to the hollywood undead song playing. you are on top of the world but the ache has not subsided.
youâre sober enough to know you canât drink the ache away.
so you choose to dance longer.
until your feet ache even more than your head, and your head aches more than your heartâ until your legs are numb and your right hand is tired from holding your heels. but somehow, the ache, as small as it should be, is still the one you feel the most.
you donât stop dancing.
the police crash through the back door.
you run straight for the front, with bree hot on your heel, and an unfinished cup of coca-cola and⊠something mixed into it, and your heels. the ice in the glass cup is melted so you throw it into the patch of grass near you. bree ends up more wasted than you are, and she, giggly, says that you watered the plants. you have no idea how she saw water in your cup when it was legit an abyss of dark brown... you know, the coca cola color? but maybe thatâs why sheâs more drunk than you.
the campus is not far from this party. you donât mind walking barefoot. bree can crash at your place tonight, you owe her this much.
you are so focused on looking forward, as if there is any hope left for you, and keeping bree steady, that you donât really pay attention to the fact that thereâs a car coming up right behind you, who probably went over the speed limit just to. you also donât notice when the car lowers itâs passenger seat window.
but you do notice when juju yells your name from the drivers seat.
your head whips around so fast you nearly drop bree, whoâs taken to being slung across your shoulder. âwhat the fucâ juju? juju, itâsââ
âyeah, yeah i do know what time it is, genius. get in the goddamn car.â she snaps, unlocking the door as you open the backseat to gently place bree in. you get into the passengers seat next to juju.
itâs three minutes into the car ride when the lyft that juju apparently called, and paid, for bree whisks her away from the two of youâand itâs four minutes in that you stay in complete silence out of your own shock.
in the empty car, as you drive to what you recognize is not the way to your dormitory but to jujuâs apartmentâ you muster up the courage to break it.
âhow are you here?â your voice is soft.
juju doesnât answer for a good while, but when she does, her voice is impossibly softer.
âi have your location.â
âthat's not what i meant. i thought you still had the brand trip.â
âwhat?â you say, incredulously. juju doesnât say anything. she parks, and then she gets out of the carâand before you can even open your door, sheâs already helping you out. as you walk? you pry for answers.
âjuju, i donât think you can do thatââ
âiâm a celebrity, i can do .. basically? anything.â
âjuju.â you scoff. âyouâre not serious. itâs just meââ
âitâs not.â juju interrupts this time, so firm it makes you lose your track of mindâ her hand, once wrapped around your wrist, lowers itself and softens its grip. it intertwines with your fingers. âitâs not just you.â she repeats, visibly regretting her choices of words last night. âitâs you. you get it?â
âbroâI,â juju stutters, chokes even, on her own words, fumbling like sheâs fumbling with the keys to her apartment right nowââi mean thatâŠâ she restarts, âi mean that iâm sorry, okay?â
you stand still in your pretty dress and high heels. you stand frozen until she pulls you in. she closes the door and she takes your face into her hands, and her palms are warm, and she is warm.
warmth. thatâs what you were missing.
and then you start crying.
âyouâre such a fucking asshole sometimes.â
âoh, baby,â juju immediately coos. âi know,â she says, pulling you into her chest, her right hand stroking your head while her left hand pulls you in close by the waist. âiâm sorry.â she whispers. âiâm so sorry, baby. i wasnât thinking. iâm sorry. i got my common sense back, yeah? iâm here now. iâm here, babyâplease donât cry.â she whispers. âiâm sorry. iâm sorry.â she repeats, sinking down to the floor with youââi got you gifts, ma?â she offers. âgot you so many gifts.â
âi just wanted you.â you say through a rather pathetic voice crack.
it only makes juju even more apologetic.
âiâm so fucking sorry baby. iâll make it up to you, okay? iâll make it up to you. come onn, prettiest girlââ she whispers, kissing your temple, smoothing down your hair and getting it out of your face. you finally look up, still mad but not able to resist herâand you breath a shaky sigh.
âthere she is,â juju says anyway, because the fact youâre looking at her is progress. âmy girl.â she continues, âmy girl who set up a whole dinner for me, set it all up for me, my girl who worked so hardâ my girl who missed me sâmuchâshhh, baby, iâm here, iâm here,â
you find yourself squeezing tighter. sheâs here now. thatâs all you've really wanted.
she ends up cleaning you up, putting you in what she knows is your favorite hoodie (hers), carrying you, bridal style, to her couchâwraps you up in a little blanket burrito and places you on her chest where she can kiss your forehead easy. this time, she has netflix opened and readyâand she knows exactly what to have you guys watch: your favorite show that youâve watched over seventy times, but canât seem to get tired of.
your eyes are blown wide, focused entirely on snuggling into her hoodie and at the show youâre watching, and youâre too lost in your own post-party, post-argument, post-bad week bliss that you donât notice juju spends every second looking at you.
you just know that itâs warm.
her hands are wrapped around you, and sheâs so warm. and sheâs saying sorry. and her voice is soft and it makes you sleepy.
so you close your eyes, and you start to fall harder for her, and simultaneously start to fall asleep.
there is no ache anymore. and you know it is not okay yet, but it will be.
but for now, the awareness that you will not wake up to a cold, empty couchâthat's enough.
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