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madrut16 · 6 years ago

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Premeditated Part 2 (Day 24: Memories)

Author’s Note: It’s finally here! This was the perfect prompt for this fic so I had to have this come out today. Thank you for the amazing feedback on the first part, that was one of the most challenging fics to write but also one of the most enjoyable (why have I become so twisted?). Of course, a lot has changed in the canon story that makes the timeline for this a little weird. I envision that both parts take place after Vegas but before the Council meeting where everything hits the fan (pretend that there’s a business trip for Adrian in between that he had to attend).

I’ve also committed to doing my crossover series for Bloodbound and Nightbound so expect an official announcement/teaser sometime soon! It has a name and even some artwork for it that I made last night, so get excited. I plan to write some one-shot fics that serve as a kind of prologues that share some of the developments that take place before Chapter 1. I have a lot of small headcanons that aren’t really enough to stitch into a full prologue so, I figured I would do this instead while I’m writing the first chapters for the series.

(Spoiler alert: promotions, kittens, and why Zelenia is so good at flying)

Finally, I just wanted to do a quick thank you since I recently hit 300 followers on here! And please feel free to message me or send me an ask if you want to say hi, I’m always open to talking to more of you.

For Day 24 of the @choicesjulychallenge hosted by @kinda-iconic

Book/Pairing: Bloodbound (Adrian x MC)

Rating: PG-13 (Mentions of violence, not nearly as detailed as Part 1)

Summary: Isabel deals with the effects of the memory on her as they struggle to tell Adrian the truth about what happened to him and his family.

@endlesshero1122 @kinda-iconic @brightpinkpeppercorn @desiree-0816 @flyawayboo @tabithacarlisle @shelley-parah @ladykateofhousebeaumont @krishu213 @choices97 @galaxyside-0 @ella-raines

Isabel felt restless, fidgeting with the blanket covering her as she sat on the couch, waiting for Adrian to arrive from his emergency flight back. She had been ordered by both him and Kamilah to take the day off of work in order to rest and process what she had experienced. But, even in the poor shape, she was in, she hated not being there. They wouldn’t even allow her to work on her laptop from where she was with Kamilah and Lily enforcing it strictly.

She knew they had a point, even as she was miserable doing absolutely nothing. She probably couldn’t focus on anything serious if she tried. There were many physical and mental symptoms from the ordeal that were still reaching their peak. Even twenty-something hours later, the images of the horror she witnessed were vividly imprinted in her mind every time she closed her eyes or thought about Adrian’s family.

The one thing that did give her a little peace of mind was knowing that she wouldn’t have to wait much longer. He had landed almost an hour ago and would be there any minute now since Kamilah had picked him up from the airport.

A touched smile appeared at the thought of the gesture. Even though it was hard for her to express emotion, having lived and lost so much, Isabel knew that she cared significantly. Somehow in between saving Adrian from near-death and getting them out of Kavinsky’s cages, she had earned the respect of the Ahmenet CEO, the person she had idolized and dreamed of imitating in the business world for years. Befriended even.

But, she wasn’t completely relieved about seeing him. Her already upset stomach tossed and turned even more with anxiety. How would she react when seeing him? What would she say? She knew that breaking the news would trigger her mind to slip into the memory once more. She didn’t know whether she could take seeing and feeling those painful images again, but she probably wouldn’t get a choice.

Before she had too much time to dwell on this, her acute hearing picked up on the sound of the doorknob turning followed by a persistent knock that anyone could have heard and she knew it was them.

She jumped up to answer it and groaned when her body protested the movement.

“Stay there,” Lily insisted, using her vampire strength to easily force her to sit back down. “I’ll get it.”

Isabel frowned at her but didn’t protest knowing that it was no use. She glumly resumed her previous position as her friend answered the door.

Soon, Adrian’s voice was a commanding but welcome presence. “Lily, where’s Isabel? I need to see her.”

“I’m over here.” She exclaimed, fluffing the pillow she had been propping herself up with for what seemed like the hundredth time.

She didn’t bother trying to fix her haphazard appearance, knowing nothing but time would remedy it. With his vampire speed, he breezed past Lily and was at her side in mere seconds.

As soon as his brown eyes met hers, she crumpled and clung onto him as if he were a life preserver.

“Oh Adrian, I’m so...s-sorry,” she whispered, beginning to tremble.

“What for?” he asked in bewilderment. “I don’t understand.”

Although her brain was clouded and not nearly as sharp as it usually was, she still figured out what his question meant relatively quickly. She pulled away enough to look at Kamilah standing being him.

“You didn’t...he doesn’t know...about them?”

She shook her head, her expression sad and apologetic. “No, I assumed that you would want to be the one to tell him. If you’re up for it, if not, I can do it.”

“No. I can...I can handle it,” Isabel stammered.

Adrian looked at them, his eyes widening in confusion. “You’re worrying me, whose memory did you see? Mine? Did you see something I did that frightened you?”

“What? No, not this time. It...it wasn’t your memory.” Her face twisted into a bitter scowl. “It was his.”

Kamilah gave her a silent look, asking for permission to interrupt which she welcomed.

“But, the problem does have to do with your memory Brother,” she added. “It contradicts it.”

This only served to further upset him, the crease between his brows deepening into a canyon. “What? You’re not making any sense. Just tell me what you saw.”

Isabel had never seen him this desperate before and it nearly crushed her. She knew that once she said the words, that the last shred of control he had on his Id would vanish. She had already seen it jump out once and she was frightened by the prospect of it taking him hostage completely—that once it was out it wouldn’t be able to become contained again.

She and Kamilah shared a look of painful understanding between them. She feared what this would do too, maybe even more than Isabel did. But he also deserved to know the truth. The extent to which he had been used as nothing more than a soldier, a weapon.

The elder vampire sighed, her eyes fixing on his. “She will, Brother. But I need you to prepare yourself. I know you won’t believe it but, while your brain can change memories, hers can’t. It really happened and—”

“—Kamilah,” he insisted, frustration now bubbling over. “With all due respect, can you stop trying to sugarcoat it? Just tell me.”

The comment causes her to frown, a raw melancholy that was rare for the woman. “Adrian, I’m sorry, I’m just trying to help protect you—”

“—I don’t need your protecting! I’m not your child that you can just coddle…”

The words hit Kamilah and her demeanor turned ice-cold her mouth open. Something he said had hurt her and for once she couldn’t hide it. The rant continued but, he didn’t notice that it had quickly become one-sided.

“Adrian, stop, you hurt her,” Lily tried to say, inching over towards her mentor protectively who was still frozen still.

But he couldn’t hear her over his tirade, still directed at his closest friend. This proceeded to only frustrate Lily which didn’t happen that often.

“Adrian, she doesn’t deserve this, chill out, will you?!”

Finally, Isabel had enough. The argument now between Adrian and Lily who was just trying to calm him down was making her head pounding painfully against her skull.

“I saw your family, Adrian!” she blurted, screaming at the top of her lungs so that it rang out loud and clear above the commotion.

Both of them were immediately silenced. Lily proceeded to give Adrian a look that shouted we told you so.

Isabel’s statement had sobered him, and he numbly sat down in quiet shock. “What?”

“Eleanor…Charlie,” she confirmed her anger at his childish behavior shifting to sadness. She began to shake as the horrific images of the memory washed over her like a grim slideshow all over again. “They didn’t…die…the way you think they did,” As she forces the words out, her throat constricted.

She watched as his normally analytical mind failed to pick up the clues that skirted around their terrible misfortune of being too important to him. It didn’t want to figure out what she meant, the results too painful. She realized with dread that she was going to have to spell it out for him.

“What do you mean? Isabel?”

She swallowed down the boulder-sized lump that had lodged itself in her throat as she felt the tell-tale sensation of when she was just about to cry for the countless time since she was plunged into the vision. Yet, she wasn’t afraid or spiteful of it like she was not that long ago, having finally unlearned the dialogue she had internalized for two years. Her emotions, they didn’t make her weak, in fact, it was quite the opposite. It’s what has allowed her to not only survive but thrive in this new darker world she had been thrust into.

So, she let them fall like one embraced the rain on their skin. Luckily as she struggled to get the words to come to the surface, he suddenly gasped in horror, having finally pieced the information together.

“No. Y-you saw them…get killed?”

She opened her mouth to speak and then settled for a nod. “Sh-she let him in, he had a patriot uniform on. Said he knew you. A-and then he…oh god.” She buried her head into his shoulder, getting tears on the expensive suit jacket.

But she lifted it back up again since as soon as she closed her eyes, the vivid images imprinted themselves once more.

“But, they were killed by the British?” he said in disbelief, just like they had predicted.

“No, Adrian, they weren’t.” Kamilah had finally recovered from whatever emotional wound he had opened earlier. Her voice was as commanding as ever but, at the same time uniquely sympathetic and gentle. “That was most likely a false memory. Something you…made up to deal with what happened. I have them too.”

They let the information sink into him, not wanting to overwhelm him with the whole terrible truth at once.

After a few minutes, the shock on his face dissolved into acceptance and then despair as he thought of the tragedy that had taken place. “I-if one of them didn’t do it, then who did? Why?”

“Gaius,” Isabel sniffed, her clipped speech showing the anger she felt deep inside.

The name rippled through the room, hitting him like a poisoned arrow.

“I-it can’t be,” he exclaimed. He jumped up into a standing position before trying to reconcile the thick web of lies he was spoon-fed so successfully. “There must be some mistake! There has to be.”

Isabel tried not to let his trauma filled skepticism get to her but, as someone whose last relationship was nothing but doubt and insecurity, she couldn’t help it. But, this wasn’t Adrian’s fault. Gaius was to blame for everything, so she didn’t let it consume her even as it did it’s best. Somehow through the continued waterworks, she found enough strength to power through for both of them.

She grabbed a hold of his lapels in order to get him to stop pacing and eventually she somehow was able to match his innate strength and he halted, which caused him to look at her.

“Adrian, believe me, I wish that it wasn’t true just as much as you do,” she said, her natural rasp breaking just like the collective hearts of everyone in the room. “But what I see is what really happened, whether the person with the memory knows it or not. I’m sorry.”

This seemed to be what she needed to say to convince him that the narrative he had painted about his family’s death was just that—fiction.

“No,” he let out a strangled cry, and suddenly there was a clear sheen in his eyes that Isabel had only ever seen once before.

He sank down into the thrift store couch Lily had purchased when she first moved into the tiny apartment three years earlier, placing his head in his hands.

“Why? Why did he have to do this?! Why couldn’t he have just spared them? They didn’t need to be hurt because of me!”

Isabel sat down next to him and placed a comforting arm around him. “I know. But, for…for him they did. It was all part of the plan to get you alone. Isolated with literally no one else to trust. A-and he also wanted all t-the blood.”

“Knowing Gaius for much longer than anyone, it doesn’t surprise me,” Kamilah told them glumly, confirming the theory. “He probably was watching you for weeks, months even. Calculating a foolproof plan to turn you…into his to control.”

A dry, bitter scoff escaped her lips from having to relieve all of the pain the man had inflicted on her too.

“He probably attacked you too, held you on the brink of death so that you couldn’t resist him.”

Adrian scowled in grief-stricken anger. “S-so I caused this. I’m the reason t-that they’re dead.”

The self-deprecating belief was like a knife to Isabel’s heart. Did he really believe that?

“Adrian, no.” She forced him to look at her, and his reddened appearance from his silent tears crushed her. “Listen to me, I doubt there was anything that you could’ve done whether you had been there or not. He would’ve found a way.”

Her words had yet to provide much comfort and he gave her a dubious look. But she quickly remembered something else from the memory that might be what he needed.

“Hey, don’t just take it from us. Eleanor, she didn’t blame you for this, so you shouldn’t either.”

He finally began to respond at the mention of his former wife. “H-how do you know?”

Isabel’s answer was instantaneous. “Because she said so. T-they were her…l-last words. She apologized to you, about how s-she couldn’t protect…your son.”

“What exactly did she say?”

She bit her lip but obliged. “That. She also wanted you to know…that she loved you…and that if you somehow survived…she wanted you to live your life, to find happiness. That doesn’t sound like someone who believed that anything about this was your fault.”

When Isabel looked around, she noticed that there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. Even Kamilah had to stare up at the ceiling for a minute.

Then, she shifted and was reminded of her sore muscles and winced, blowing out a tense breath of air. The whole ordeal of the revelation had allowed herself to become distracted from the fact that she was still recuperating from the vision’s physical manifestations.

His red-rimmed eyes fixated on her and he sat up abruptly. “Oh god.”

“Adrian?”

She blinked with surprise when he all of a sudden cupped the side of her face, examining every inch of her worn-out appearance.

“This clearly took a toll on you,” he told her. “Kamilah said it made you sick, that you had a fever?”

Isabel frowned, hating to be fretted over. It was a part of her independent streak, which had become even stronger after Derek made her almost forget it existed.

She shrugged, visibly downplaying the distress that she still felt. “It’s true, it’s due to me trying to process everything. Well, that and the memory was stronger this time. Much stronger.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve told you that usually when I’m in them that there’s a tingling sensation. But, I guess because it was so emotional, it actually hurt this time,” she described, trying to remember exactly what it felt like. “It burned, almost like there was this…electricity inside of me.”

At this, Lily became somewhat animated from where she had perched herself. “I can confirm that. You were really staticky. Your hair was standing up all over the place and whenever I tried to touch you, I would get shocked.”

“No wonder I’m so sore,” Isabel grumbled.

Adrian’s expression became even more troubled as the lingering regret and grief mixed with his concern for her well-being. “You must be traumatized. I’m sorry I couldn’t be here sooner.”

“Hey, it’s okay. That trip was important and I’m glad that you didn’t have to miss it,” she said, taking his hand in hers. “And every blessing has a curse, and this is mine. If doing this means that I can actually help you guys, if this is how I can contribute, then it’s worth it to me. I’ll do anything to stop Gaius at this point.”

And she meant it. Now that she had seen how his family had been violently taken from him, just how cruel his former master could be, she understood why Adrian had been so easily swayed to violence. By itself, it was already deceptively sweet, but coupled with grief it became like honey, cocaine.

It was a cycle of vengeance and power that was extremely difficult to break. But, they would soon learn that it was the one thing that they would have to do when the one advantage they had would slip out of their hands. And to do so, they would have to tap into it, in order to rise above it.

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices july challenge #bloodbound #adrian x mc #adrian x isabel #adrian raines #trigger warning: trauma

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blackberrywidow · 7 years ago

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Undercover, In Over Your Head

Summary: Spy AU. After months of being undercover as Bucky’s wife, it’s time to finally finish your mission. The stakes are high with both of your lives on the line, but somehow the only thing you’re worried about is giving up your life as Mrs. Jones. Getting out of this alive is one thing, but getting out of it with your heart still intact is another.

Warnings: Nothing too bad. Language. Some mildly steamy action.

Word Count: 6.8k

Prompt: “Kiss me. Quickly!”

A/N: I’m doubling this up as a request from the lovely @everythingbooknerd and my submission for @peekaboo-parker and @onlytomholland-archive‘s writing challenge since the theme and timing worked really well together. I hope it doesn’t suck as much as I’m afraid it does. This took me entirely too long to write.

“So, how did you two meet?” Sandy asked, sipping on her long island iced tea like it was lemonade and giving your “husband” a look that made your blood simmer.

“College,” came your rehearsed answer accompanied by an even more rehearsed smile. You leaned in conspiratorially, licking your lips as your eyes locked on Bucky’s smiling face, and whispered, “We had chemistry together.”

“Oh yeah,” Sandy chortled, giving Bucky one last appreciative glance before giving you an I wish I was youlook. “I bet you did.”

Bucky glanced over at you then, catching your eye and smirking at you when he saw the slight tilt of your head and widening of your eyes that served as your pre-determined indicator that you wanted an out. He excused himself from whatever boring conversation he was currently sitting through with Mark, the engineer from across the street, and made his way over to you, all swagger and handsome smile.

“Mrs. Kavinsky,” he greeted, inclining his head at Sandy. She giggled obnoxiously, though you honestly couldn’t blame her. He had that effect on everybody—especially you, though you were loath to admit it. “Do you mind if I borrow my wife for a moment?”

“Of course.” Sandy shot you a coy smile and a wink before sauntering off to find her husband—he had disappeared from the party ages ago, and if you had to guess he was currently attempting to discretely sneak a cigarette in your upstairs bathroom despite his promises to his wife that he had quit months ago. You could smell the smoke from the back yard, and from experience knew that Mr. Kavinsky would return with an easier smile and steadier hands.

“You’d think you would be better at that.”

Your eyes snapped up to Bucky’s, taking in his small smile and the piercing blue of his stare. “At what?”

“At keeping a poker face. I can practically see the gears turning in your head. Which of our neighbors are you plotting against now?”

“Not plotting,” you corrected, your lips involuntarily tugging up at the corner. “Just observing. And I think that maybe you ‘seeing my gears’ has less to do with my shitty poker face and more to do with the years of experience you have, honey.”

Bucky smirked, slinging an arm around your shoulder and pulling you closer as you watched your guests mingle in silence. It was domestic. The perfect picket-fence life.

You could almost believe it was real, this perfect life of yours. A happy marriage to James Jones that spanned years. A lifetime of happiness to look forward to in suburbia.

In reality, you had been “married” to James for 256 days. Though Agent James Buchanan Barnes preferred Bucky when you weren’t undercover.

“I think I am finally figuring you out, Mrs. Jones,” he finally replied, taking a long pull from the beer bottle in his hand.

“What a relief,” you snorted, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. “Now all you have to do is figure out who’s selling missiles to Hydra and we’re golden.”

---

“So… Marianne seems like a possibility,” you mused, taping a pen to your lips as you watched over the security tapes later that night.

“No,” Bucky responded immediately from where was reclined on the couch, tossing a ball against the ceiling before catching it seconds before it hit the ground, again and again. You wanted to be annoyed by his apparent lack of attention, but you knew by now that he was aware of everything you were saying and everything taking place on the screens. Besides, the rhythmic thumpand smack that rang through the small room with each pass of the ball was soothing in a strange way.

“She’s been having late night meetings with odd men in their cars for the past week,” you say in exasperation. “How can you be so sure she isn’t?”

“She’s selling pot.”

You whipped your head around, raising a brow as he smiled at you. “And how do you know this?”

Bucky shrugged, looking away from you and resuming his game of one-man-catch. “We talk.”

“Right,” you scoffed, turning your attention back to the tv screens and gritting your teeth as heat rose to your cheeks. “I suppose that explains why Sandy wanted to ‘kindly inform me’ that you two had been spending some time together while I’m at work. You know the whole point of this operation is to pass ourselves off as a normal married couple, right? If you keep doing this shit, it’ll raise suspicion.”

“Oh please,” Bucky said, rolling his eyes. “They would be more suspicious if I wasn’t seeing women behind your back. No one trusts a perfect marriage these days, (Y/N). You don’t have to be a highly trained intelligence operative to know that.”

“No,” you huffed, fiddling with the pen as you steadfastly avoided the gaze that you knew was now trained on your face. “But I suppose being a man helps.”

“Well one of us has to do something to speed this up. We’ve been here for almost a year, (Y/N). Fury wants answers and I want out of this suburban shithole. So I’m sorry if I don’t particularly care about how that makes our fakemarriage look to our fake neighbors.”

You waited patiently through Bucky’s rant, noting the way the way the rhythmic thump-smack sped up in time with your heart rate. You hid your hurt though, the way you always did—with a blank expression and watchful eyes. The way spies like you were trained to hide everything they felt. You tried not to take it personally anyway—Bucky didn’t hate you. He hated long missions with little to no action. He missed Steve. He probably missed not being “married.”

At least, that’s what you told yourself. For all that Bucky showed, he may very well hate you or hold you responsible for the length of your mission. It was always hard to tell with spies. It’s why you had a very strict rule against dating them—there isn’t room for two liars in a relationship.

But Bucky Barnes was certainly enticing enough to tempt you. That is, if he ever pulled the stick out of his ass.

“Are you done?” You finally asked after ten full seconds of silence, giving Bucky enough time to cool down and you enough time to stop imagining what it would be like being married to him for real.

“Yeah,” he sighed, sitting up and hanging his head as the ball made one final thump against the ceiling and fell to the ground, forgotten. “Sorry. I know this isn’t exactly a cakewalk for you either. It’s just… if I have to hear about how fantastic Nancy Mitchell’s fucking casserole is one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”

A surprised laugh burst out of you, breaking through your mask and forcing a smile on your face. “You know what her secret ingredient is, don’t you?” you teased, smile widening when Bucky’s expression only saddened.

“I really, really don’t care.”

“No? Well, that’s too bad. I was going to recommend that you warn your friend Marianne that she has competition. She’s smuggles coke in it—hands it off to all the exhausted moms in her spin class as an innocent ‘gift’ and gets paid with Target gift cards in the mail. The woman has a shopping problem, to say the least.”

“Cocaine?” Bucky asked, suddenly perking up—a reaction that had you laughing so hard you doubled over. “I can’t believe your story is better than mine! How did you find out?”

“I run the surveillance, remember?” You shook your head, forcing your outburst to subside enough to give him a decent answer. “I looked into it three weeks ago—I thought it was weird that she did so much online shopping and paid for it all in gift cards. Especially since she has everything delivered to her office and sneaks it all inside when her husband isn’t home. But no illegal arms dealing—just a normal wife playing drug dealer to fund her shopping addiction.”

Bucky scoffed and shook his head before standing to watch over the cameras next to you. “Is that what we consider normal now?”

You shrug, eyes trained on the cameras once more as Mr. Kavinsky exited his home. A little unusual at 10 o’clock at night on a Thursday, but nothing worth your concern yet. “Normal is relative, Bucky. Our normal is full of the kind of evil that would make these people terrified to leave their homes. But they’re just as fucked up as we are, in a way. They create their own monsters and can’t see past their front lawn as far as others’ welfare is concerned. That’s normal here. People throw away their chance at a simple, happy life for a few bucks and the thrill of being ‘bad’ when they don’t actually know the meaning of the word.”

You saw Bucky look at you out of the corner of your eye, his expression carefully neutral. “That seems like a pretty harsh assessment. “

“This coming from the guy who just told me that I shouldn’t care that people think my husband is cheating on me.”

“That is compl—”

“Hey,” you cut him off as you furrowed your brows and whipped your pen up to point at one of the TV screens. “That look suspicious to you?”

Bucky reluctantly tore his eyes away from you and scoffed. “You’re the tech expert. You tell me…” you watched as he trailed off, his whole demeanor shifting when he caught sight of Mr. Kavinsky waiting for a town car only to have a man spring out to throw a bag over his head and pull him into the backseat of the car before it sped off.

His shoulders straightened, his face fell back into an expressionless mask, and his blue eyes seemed to become hyper focused on the screen as he said, “Get your coat.”

You turned away to comply, smiling widely and suppressing the shiver that wanted to run down your spine. As much as you enjoyed playing the domesticated happy couple with Bucky, you loved it when he was like this. Like the highly trained special operative that he was. The one who could use that tone and get you to do anything he wanted.

It was a vulnerability—a dangerous one, considering your line of work.

You were glad, in a way, that Bucky didn’t reciprocate your feelings. Love was a luxury you couldn’t afford in your world of assassins and espionage. The closest you would ever get was being Mrs. James Jones.

You were almost sad that that this may have to be the night you had to give her up for good.

---

“Oh, this is definitely it.”

Bucky’s excitement was palpable, and you tried not to let it disappoint you.

“I think you’re right,” you whispered, taking one last peek through the binoculars. They had hauled Ray Kavinksy out of the vehicle and he was now nervously pacing in the penthouse of a hotel across the street. “We should call Hill and report this.”

“Wait.” Bucky grabbed your wrist, halting you in your attempt to go back to the car and retrieve your cell phone. “Look. It’s him.”

“Who?” you huff, turning back around to snatch the binoculars out of Bucky’s hands. And almost immediately dropped them.

It was Alexander Pierce.

“No,” you said at the same time Bucky said “I’m going in.”

“This is huge, (Y/N),” Bucky whisper-shouted at you, as though you weren’t already aware. “He runs the entire American division of Hydra—we take him down, we take them all down.”

“You’re right, Bucky. Which is exactly why we should at least try to contact Hill—let her know what’s going on so she can give us our orders.”

“We already have our orders. This doesn’t change that.” Bucky’s tone left no room for argument. He stood up from where he had been crouching near the edge of the parking garage you currently occupied and started walking toward the car.

You followed, hot on his heels. “Our orders are to observe and gather and intel. Not attack a high-ranking Hydra operative. We need to call this one in, Bucky. You know that.”

“And while we’re jumping through SHIELD’s hoops, what if he gets away? Or worse: what if we do call this in to Hill and she tells us to leave it? You know Pierce and Fury have history. If we give them the chance to say no, we’ll regret it, (Y/N). Please, just… let me do this.”

You sucked on your bottom lip, arms crossed as you took in his pleading eyes and determined tone. You knew that Bucky and Pierce had history too—a mission gone south several years ago that had ended in days of torture at Pierce’s hands that had nearly claimed Bucky’s left arm before Steve and his team had found him.

The right thing to do would be to call Deputy Director Hill and let her make the call. But looking at your partner now, you knew you couldn’t do that to him.

“Two conditions,” you finally said, to which Bucky immediately scoffed and shook his head. “I’m serious, Bucky. If we do this, we aren’t going after Pierce—at least not directly,” you hastily corrected when Bucky started to protest.

“Okay, I’m listening,” he conceded, leaning back against the car and looking at you in careful contemplation.

“Alright. So, condition one: you’re not assassinating Pierce. You know as well as I do that isn’t going to fly. We stick to our mission—observe, gather intel, and report it. If we happen to get enough evidence to take down Pierce along with Kavinsky and his buyer? Just icing on the cake. Icing that won’t end up biting us in the ass if Fury decides that killing a Hydra official on an intelligence mission was the wrong call.”

He hesitated a long moment, biting his lip as he considered your proposal. His dark blue eyes bored in to yours, and you held your breath and prayed that he would see reason, knowing you couldn’t stop him if he didn’t. Knowing it could get him killed at worst and expelled from SHIELD at best.

“Fine,” he finally conceded, making you sigh in relief. “We’ll do it your way. What’s the second condition?”

“Oh, I thought the second condition would be obvious.” You breezed past where he was leaning against the tan SUV SHIELD had given you—the one Bucky referred to as a “mom car”—and opened up the hatch to begin rifling through your stash of hidden weapons. “I’m going in with you.”

“Absolutely not,” Bucky growled, grabbing your arm and whipping you around to face him. You reeled back against the car in surprise, but he pressed forward, touching every inch of his chest against yours as he got in your face. He pressed his lips against your ear, causing an involuntary shiver to rack your body as he whispered, “You’re going to stay here and run surveillance from a distance. You’re a non-combatant—that’s your job. You are not going to get within ten feet of Alexander Pierce, understand?”

“No. Way,” you hissed between clenched teeth, planting your hands on his chest and managing to push him back just enough to look him in the eyes. “We’re in this together, honey, and what kind of fake wife would I be if I let you run off and blow this entire operation on your own? I’m going with you, and we’re both going to stay clear of Pierce. Do you understand me, Barnes?”

Bucky shook his head and took a step back from you, but if you didn’t know better, you would have thought a small smile was tugging at his lips. “You don’t know what you’re getting into, (Y/N). This is bigger than some weapons dealer now. Pierce is involved, and he’s… Alexander Pierce is a dangerous man, Doll—if he or his men get ahold of you, I…”

He seemed to become lost in thought, eyes going distant as he trailed off. You stepped forward, placing your hands against his cheeks and turning his head back to face you. His blue eyes locked on yours, wide and haunted, and you knew that he was reliving every second he spent under Pierce’s knife. It made you want to go in there and kill him yourself, but it was even more of a reminder of why you couldn’t.

“That’s why we’re doing this together, Bucky. We won’t make contact with Pierce, and we’ll have each other’s backs. Then we’ll take everything we find to SHIELD, and we’ll take Pierce and the entire American-sector of Hydra down. It’s the smart play. You know that.”

Bucky stared back for a long second, not saying anything as he simply allowed you to hold onto him before finally bowing his head and sighing, giving you a single nod. “Okay. Minimum weapons then, and we’ll need to find a way to get close to him without raising suspicion.”

“I’m already ahead of you.” You smirked and turned your back on him, bending down to continue going through the weapons you would need just in case things didn’t go according to plan.

“Here,” Bucky reached over you to grab something, making you roll your eyes. He was perfectly capable of moving around you to get what he wanted. He was such a tease. However, all thoughts of teasing Bucky slammed to a halt when he handed you the knife you had been looking for. “This is the one you always use, right?”

You nodded mutely, taking your lucky knife that had been your trusty companion since you first joined SHIELD, and lifted your knee-length black cocktail dress you hadn’t bothered changing out of enough to slide it into the holster on your thigh. Your eyes were still trained on the knife, so you didn’t see Bucky reach for you, causing you to jolt when his knuckles grazed your cheek.

Your eyes snapped back up to his, letting him brush a strand of wayward hair behind your ear. He was staring at you again, in the way that made your heart seize in your chest and reminded you that out of all the missions you had been on, this one was somehow always different. You wondered if he was thinking the same thing.

You wanted to ask, but he seemed to gather himself and dropped his hand before you could. “Be safe,” was the only thing he offered you.

You tried not to dwell on it too much as you climbed into the passenger seat so Bucky could drive you across the street to the hotel. This was it—either your last night as Mr. and Mrs. Jones or your last night alive. You needed to be completely focused if you wanted to survive such a close encounter with Hydra.

---

“How’d you manage to get this?” Bucky asked, looking around the hotel room you had procured for yourselves for the night.

“I asked nicely,” you replied, smiling coyly at him from over your shoulder as you set up the surveillance equipment.

The room was directly underneath the penthouse Pierce had commandeered. It was the best possible place for you to gather intelligence without raising suspicion—you had booked the hotel under your covers’ names and were keeping a distance. No one would recognize you, other than Mr. Kavinsky, but Pierce and a good number of his men had seen Bucky before. If the wrong person got a glimpse of him, it was all over.

“So, here’s the plan: we’re doing audio from down here. I’ve got it all set up already. Then we wait for them to move and go upstairs and go through his shit. Easy peasey.”

Bucky’s lips twitched as he watched you bounce around the room, quietly setting up all of the necessary equipment you had hidden in your luggage. “You know that things usually don’t go that well, right?”

“I do, but I’m optimistic. So, everything is going to go well and neither of us is going to get caught or killed, got it?”

“Got it boss,” Bucky replied with a lazy salute and an even lazier grin.

The next several hours were incredibly boring, as most stake-outs tended to be. You and Bucky sat quietly, attentively listening to the feed coming from the floor above, making notes of anything you thought was of particular importance or just screwing around while you waited for them to finally stop drilling poor Mr. Kavinsky about the weapons he was smuggling in under his company’s name.

“It’s been three hours,” you sighed, slumping against the side of Bucky’s chair from where you sat on the floor. “It’s almost two in the morning. How long is this going to last? Don’t these people sleep?”

“Didn’t you know? ‘Ain’t no rest for the wicked,” Bucky chuckled, knocking his knee against your side, causing you to swat at him in annoyance.

“Now I know it’s too late for us to be up. You’re making lame jokes.”

“Hey,” Bucky protested, only sounding half as offended as he intended. “None of my jokes are lame.”

“Yeah, okay. Keep telling yourself that, but I distinctly remember hearing you tell a knock, knock joke at the Millers’ barbeque last week.”

“Yeah, a funny knock, knock joke.”

“There is no such thing as a funny knock, knock joke, Bucky.”

“That’s discrimination.”

“Discrimination?” you snorted, dropping your head against his knee and allowing your eyes to drift shut. “I think the lack of sl—”

“Hey,” he cut you off, leaning forward so suddenly you fell forward and hit the carpet face-down. “They’re moving.”

And suddenly you were awake, your eyes springing open as you scrambled to get up and gather what you would need to properly search the penthouse for evidence against Pierce.

“Are you ready for this?” Bucky asked, giving you one last once-over as you met him by the door. “No going back now.”

“There never was, Bucky.” You gave him a small smile, willing some confidence into your appearance. “Pierce and his men are dangerous, but we’ll never even come into contact with them. That’s what makes espionage so fun. Not getting caught.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, opening the door and allowing you to step out first. “Right.”

You walked to the elevator, deciding that using it to go up one floor would be less conspicuous than taking the stairs.

“Shit,” Bucky muttered, eyes narrowing on the spot designated for the keycard required to get you to the penthouse. “We need—”

“I’ve already got it,” you sang with a smirk, fishing the card out of your bra (not having pockets in your dresses was a crime, really). “I swiped it from the front desk on our way up.”

“I love you,” Bucky said, shaking his head and grinning at you, making your stomach swoop. It was a phrase that you had gotten used to over the past nine months, said with laughter or soft looks, but always in the presence of an audience. Always for the sake of the mission. Never like this, in close quarters when it was just the two of you and with something like admiration in his eyes. You tried not to read too much into it, but God did you want to.

“You’ll love me even more when we pull this off, Barnes. So get ready.”

You scanned the card, and the elevator jolted as it took you up to the next floor. Bucky took a step back, facing the door and placing a hand near the inside pocket of his jacket, ready to pull his gun out if the situation called for it. According to your surveillance, the room should be cleared now that Pierce moved the meeting down to the basement of the hotel where Kavinsky had moved the weapons. But you could never be too careful.

Bucky stepped out first, drawing his gun and making a sweep of the room while you followed behind him in suit. “Clear.”

Bucky kept his gun raised and ready while you raced across the room and got started. This was what you were best at: gathering intel that you could use to bring empires to their knees. You could fight, sure, but the real spy work was where you thrived.

You found the laptop situated in the corner of the room and your fingers flew across the keyboard as soon as you sat down, hacking into their system with an ease that came with natural talent and years of practice.

“Beautiful,” you breathed, pulling out the flash drive you had hidden in your bra and plugging it in, eyes scanning the screen relentlessly.

“I take it that’s good?” Bucky asked, not looking away from the elevator door.

“It’s better than good,” you replied, fingers once more clacking against the keyboard as you sifted through the information it held. “Pierce’s name is all over this stuff—bank statements, hit orders, weapons sales, you name it. Not to mention the names of at least thirty U.S. government officials in connection with him. It’s a pretty secure system, one that is nearly impossible to get into unless you’re working directly on this drive. It must be Pierce’s personal computer. It’s got everything you would need to take him down.”

“And now we have it,” Bucky replied, glancing back at you with a warm smile.

“Yup,” you said, popping the ‘p.’ “See? I told you this was the way to go. This will publicly out Pierce and destroy everything he’s ever built. Better than just killing the guy. It’s almost surprising that—oh shit.”

“What?” Bucky asked, immediately abandoning his post to go to your side.

You were frantically typing now, eyes focused on the screen as you tried to fix what you had just done. “A security system,” you replied after a moment through gritted teeth. “It’s already alerted him, and someone from the outside is trying to kick me out. I’m so sorry Bucky—I didn’t see it before it was too late.”

“But you can fix it, right? You can finish the download?”

“Maybe,” you said, still typing furiously, eyes trained on the screen. “But they’re probably already on their way up. If we don’t go now—”

“They’ll find us,” Bucky affirmed, nodding and taking a step back. “Fine. I always liked this plan better anyway.”

“Bucky, no. I don’t have time to argue with you about this right now, but we are not attacking Pierce.”

“Doesn’t seem like we have much of a choice, Doll.” Bucky was moving back to the elevator, taking a position to the side that would provide him cover and a clear shot.

You took a deep breath, not pausing in your typing, determined to find a way to get the information andsurvive.

After what felt like years but was in reality only a few moments, you managed to break through their defenses again and finish the download without really even knowing how you did it—your mind was only focused on getting out of this alive with Bucky by your side.

You shot back from the computer once it reached 100%, snatching the flash drive up with a loud whoop.

“What?!” Bucky called from across the room, not looking away from where he had his gun trained on the elevator and the quickly rising number that promised your death when it reached your floor.

“We gotta go,” you whispered, grabbing his arm and pulling him up with you as you ran for the door that led to the stairwell.

“But we can’t go without the drive,” Bucky said, pulling against your hold and looking at the elevator with frantic, murderous eyes.

“I’ve got it, Bucky. We can go,” you huffed, desperately tugging on his arm.

“But I thought you said—”

“I’ve got it Bucky. Please, we have to go now.”

“Pierce is coming,” Bucky said, eyes distant as he stared in the direction of the elevator. “I could end him right here. Right now.”

“Bucky, you can’t. There are too many of them to take on your own, you know that. Please, just come with me. We’ll take him down, I promise. Just come on,” you plead, holding out a hand to him in desperation.

“Take the flash drive (Y/N). Report back to Hill. I’m not letting him get away again.”

Bucky was focused on the door as the numbers slowed the closer they got to you, gun raised and ready to fire at Pierce the second he laid eyes on him. You knew it would be the last thing he did. You suspected that Bucky knew that too.

“Fine,” you said, resigned as you stuffed the flash drive back in the bodice of your dress and withdrew the gun from your thigh holster. You preferred your knife, but a fight like this called for something with a little more range. “Then we’ll stay.”

“What are you talking about?” Bucky snapped, looking back at you with wild eyes. “I said get out of here!”

“We’re in this together, Bucky,” you reminded him, shaking your head with a sad smile. “’Till death do us part, yeah?”

Bucky stared at you for a long moment, taking in your determination and the fire in your eyes as you offered up your life to his need for vengeance, and he seemed to come to some sort of decision.

“Fuck it,” he growled, lowering his gun and taking a large step towards you. “I told you he’s not gettin’ within ten feet of you, remember?”

He snatched up your hand and you bolted for the stairwell at the same moment the elevator dinged.

You let the door slam behind you as you raced down the single flight of stairs, Bucky fishing out his key and swiping it to give you access to your floor once you reached the door. You couldn’t believe that it was that easy after all—you had gotten the information you needed and talked Bucky out of getting himself killed just to get a shot at Pierce. All you had to do was make it to your room and hide out until Hydra cleared the hotel. You were almost in the clear.

Then you heard the thunder of footsteps pounding down the stairs, dozens of men on their way to find you.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, hearing their footsteps beat closer and closer with as your heart thudded against your rib cage in tandem. “They’re coming down the stairwell now. They’re probably searching every floor.”

“Yeah, I hear them. Come on,” Bucky pleaded, tugging on your hand and increasing his pace, trying to get you to your room. “It’s just down here.”

“No time,” you hissed when you heard the door to your floor open. You spun yourself in front of him, grabbing him by the collar of his white button up. “Kiss me. Quickly!”

Bucky wasted no time in complying. He dropped his hand to your waist, grabbing you roughly and pulling you forward into a searing kiss. You went willingly, pressing one hand against his chest to hide your gun and keep it ready to fire while the other twisted in his hair.

He grunted into your mouth, dropping a hand to your thigh and yanking it up, prompting you to jump up and wrap your legs around his waist. He slid his hand under you skirt, keeping the gun he still held hidden in the folds of your dress as he pressed you against the wall. After leaving you suitably breathless, he moved his lips down to your neck to nip at the sensitive skin there. You gasped, bucking your hips against him involuntarily, eyes fluttering open just enough to catch the eye of one of Pierce’s men further down the hall.

They were clearing the hall, looking for any suspects, but they were all trying very hard to keep their eyes off of the two of you. Your friend and fellow agent Natasha was right—public displays of affection made people uncomfortable. Well usually, with the man staring at you in open disgust apparently being an exception.

“Get a room,” he sneered, shaking his head and whispering something to his men that prompted them to head back to the stairwell.

“We’re working on it,” you giggled breathlessly while Bucky held up his left hand to wave your key at the Hydra agent, not lifting his head up from where it was still buried in your neck.

The man snorted, rolling his eyes but not saying another word as he followed his men back to the stairwell, apparently not finding anything suspicious about a young married couple getting it on in the hallway.

“He’s gone,” you whispered in Bucky’s ear once you were sure the door was firmly closed behind them, and he dropped you gently back to the ground, hands still on your waist.

“You good?” he asked, smoothing your mused hair back and looking you over with searching eyes.

“Do I look good?” you teased, biting your lip and smiling at him before snatching the keycard out of his hand and moving the last few feet down the hall to your door.

“You always look good, (Y/N),” he breathed in your ear, making you jump. You hadn’t realized he had followed so closely behind you, his steps always so silent. “But yeah, you look reallygood right now.”

You turned to face him as you stepped back in the room. His eyes were heated as he drank the sight of you in, and you told yourself that it was the adrenaline or the thrill of finally getting enough evidence to put Pierce away for good. But you really hoped it wasn’t.

“We need to report this,” you finally said after a long moment, clearing your throat. “Before any of those goons find us.”

Bucky hesitated, but nodded and moved further into the room to grab his phone. “I’ll call Hill. You pack up. We’re out of here the second we get a clear exit.”

“Yes sir.” You smirked at him as you passed by on your way to take down your surveillance equipment, ignoring the thrill that shot through you at his words.

You had a job to do right now, which involved you staying out of Hydra’s way and alive while they tore the hotel apart looking for you. You would have time to consider you feelings for Bucky and the fact that by the end of the day your pretend life as a married couple would be over later. Hopefully one that involved ice cream and sad music that made you feel less shitty about your life.

---

“Excellent job, agents,” Hill congratulated you much later that day, actually smiling for once. “You’re done for the day. We’ll call you when we have your next assignment.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” you and Bucky chorused, turning to leave the room and the final nail in Pierce’s coffin behind.

You were back at SHIELD headquarters in D.C., almost twelve hours after you got out of Pierce’s penthouse alive. Mr. and Mrs. Jones had officially moved out of their home on Crestwood Drive and Agents Barnes and (Y/L/N) were back to their normal lives. Well, as normal as your lives could be.

“Last night was fun, huh?” Bucky asked, shadowing you as you made your way to the elevator that would take you one step closer to your bed.

“You mean the part where we almost but didn’t quite die? Or the long hours of listening to Pierce talk about shit I don’t care about?” you asked, sarcasm coloring your tone almost as much as your exhaustion did.

“Nah,” Bucky said, catching the elevator door, keeping it open as people streamed out of it past you. “I was talking about the part where Mr. and Mrs. Jones ruined some Hydra agent’s virgin eyes in a public hallway.”

You grinned, looking at him over your shoulder as you stepped onto the elevator. “It was. I was beginning to worry that Mr. and Mrs. Jones were never going to come to their senses, but it’s nice to see that a high stress situation can always be trusted to bring a loveless marriage back together.”

Bucky returned your smile but didn’t say anything for a long moment as the doors slid closed behind you and you made the long descent down.

“You know, I was kind of getting used to it.”

“To what?” you asked, rolling your head to the side to gaze up at Bucky from where he was leaning against the wall next to you.

“The married life,” Bucky answered nonchalantly, arms crossed as he stared straight ahead. “At least, with you. And I meant that before I stuck my tongue down your throat, but now I reallymean it.”

You laughed, shaking your head and fighting the blush that rose to your cheeks. “The picket-fence life isn’t for us Bucky. It’s not our normal, you know that.”

“Yeah, but I think it could be. We choose our normal, right? I think that if I had a choice, I’d want my normal to be you.”

He finally glanced up and caught your gaze, and you could do nothing but stare at him in shock for a long moment. Your throat was dry, and you could feel pressure building behind your eyes, and you wanted to blame your emotional reaction on your lack of sleep, but you had a feeling that this was the only possible reaction to Bucky fucking Barnes telling you that he wanted you to be his normal. Which was kind of lame but incredibly sweet at the same time, in the way only he could be.

“So, what?” you say, unsure of how you should react to him saying everything you wanted and everything you feared in the same breath. “You’re saying that you want that? To leave SHIELD behind and pick up where we left off in suburbia?”

Bucky shrugged, holding your gaze as his lips quirked up in a small smile, the most genuine you had ever seen on him. “I don’t know. Probably not. But I do think that we could find something that works. We can have the picket-fence andthe late-night stakeouts. As long as you’re with me—that’s what I want.”

You laughed lightly in disbelief, shaking your head. “When did you decide this? We’ve been ‘married’ for almost nine months and this is the first I’m hearing about it.”

“I used to think there was nothing I would choose over taking out Pierce after what he did to me. But last night I found out I was wrong.” Bucky shrugged, looking as casual as ever. As though he wasn’t shattering your reality with a few words and the hope they planted in your chest. “Nothing else seems important after that, y’know?”

You nodded, because you did know. You knew a long time ago that you had been falling in love with Bucky Barnes, that it wasn’t just an act and it wasn’t just the mission. You had made a decision too last night—to stand by Bucky and face death rather than leave him to face it alone. He was right. Why waste any more time pretending?

Love was vulnerability, but it wasn’t one you could choose. Bucky Barnes made you vulnerable the second he stepped in your life. It might end with one or both of you dead or heartbroken, but you may as well enjoy the ride while it lasted.

“Okay,” you sighed, leaning your head back against the wall and smiling. “But first, sleep.”

“Seriously?” Bucky asked, a surprised chuckle leaving him in a huff. “I just confess my undying love to you and all you can think about is sleep?”

You crack your eyes open just enough to look at him. “You can join me.”

“Deal,” Bucky said, grabbing your arm and hauling you off the wall as the elevator door opened. “Sleep, and then can figure our shit out.”

“Sounds good,” you mumbled against his shoulder as he lead you out of the SHIELD facility. And it did. Figuring out the rest of your life with Bucky by your side sounded better than good. It sounded like your new normal.

Tagslist: @everythingbooknerd, @desir-ae

#marvel fanfiction #mcu fan fic #Bucky Barnes #Winter Soldier #Bucky Barnes x Reader #Bucky Barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x OC #Spy AU #lenivicwc #my writing

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mbtiinfiction-blog · 7 years ago

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To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (Movie)

Okay, this movie was adorable. Seriously, the aesthetics, story, and acting were all phenomenal. So, let’s get to typing!

Lara Jean Covey - INFP “I don’t want all my firsts to be fake.”

Lara Jean is imaginative, often getting lost in her feelings and fantasies. Her whimsical, quirky vibe is classic Ne-Fi. Even as she becomes more popular, she stays true to herself without judging the popular group. She feels her feelings deeply, but has an incredibly hard time expressing them to others. This entire story wouldn’t have even happened had Kitty not mailed the letters, after all. Very Fi. Plus, her style (and the entire aesthetic of the movie, really) is totally the sentimental yet fantastical feel of tertiary Si.

Peter Kavinsky - ENFJ “You say that you’re scared of commitment and relationships, but you don’t seem to be scared to be with me.”

In Peter, we have the classic popular jock who is actually super sweet and deep. First, he absolutely oozes Fe. He has no problem telling Lara Jean what he likes about her (”I like your hair down”, “I love that you’re not afraid of her”, “I love having a smarty-pants fake girlfriend”, “It’s so cool that we can talk about real stuff”), so we see him externalizing feelings quite a bit. Also, everything he does is focused on others’ feelings. He starts their fake relationship to make Gen jealous, then tells Lara Jean exactly what they need to do to make sure people think they’re together (the background pictures, posting on Instagram). He definitely has the Fe-Ni people strategy/manipulation down pat. We see more of Peter’s Ni in the form of focus and long-term planning. He really only focuses on one girl at a time. First, he turns down Lara Jean because he’s still into Gen. Once he has feelings for Lara Jean, he makes sure Gen knows it’s over for good. His planning skills are pretty clear when they make the contract, and he brings up the ski trip. He’s clearly thinking months into the future (and can we acknowledge how rare that is for a teenage guy?). At the very end of the movie, he says “Are you gonna break my heart, Covey?” Clearly he’s already thinking into the future of their relationship. Finally, Peter’s jock-ish, high-energy nature is very tertiary Se, which he leans into in order to fit in with society’s idea of what a man should be (Fe). My guess is that this is why most people think Peter’s an ESFP.

Josh Sanderson - INFJ “Then again, he’s a jock, and they’re slow learners.”

Josh’s Fe comes out early in the movie, as we see his answer change to the pee/Mountain Dew question based on whether Margot is there or not. He listens to Lara Jean’s problems with Peter despite their relationship being weird, and is upset by Lara Jean dating someone who he thinks is wrong for her. He really doesn’t seem to have romantic feelings for her, so his anger comes out of real care for her life choices. We also see the judgey side of Fe come out, with how much he seems to hate the popular crowd, Peter in particular, without really knowing them. His Ni pops up too, though it’s harder to spot, as most Ni is. Josh is definitely a long-term planner. I mean, it’s August and he already bought tickets to visit Margot for Thanksgiving (again, rare for teenage guys). And though he doesn’t get much screen time, he pops up at the end to give Lara Jean great advice after asking her questions that get her to explore her own feelings. Classic Ni-Fe.

Kitty - ENTJ “You’re 16, and I don’t think you had anything else going on.”

Kitty tells it like it is. No judgement or condescension, just facts. She has the harsh, intellectual, practical feel of Te (e.g. her obsession with how they’re going to get to school, “I guess I’ll order a pizza” during the Josh-LJ-Peter-Margot fight), but goes into Ni-style rants (”The goddess within says it’s a sacred rhythm that represents the deepest cycle of womanhood”). We also see the Ni and the Se in her when she sends out the letters. She has a plan (Ni) to get Lara Jean a boyfriend, and she isn’t afraid to act on it (Se).

Margot - ESTJ “I just thought you didn’t need me anymore.”

Margot is focused on roles, tradition, and rules. Lara Jean needs to get her act together, because she’s now the oldest sister in the house. Their mom said to go to college single, so she dumps Josh. It’s okay to drink, because the legal age in Scotland is 18. This type of thinking screams Te-Si. She’s practical, and quite unemotional. She quickly moves on after the Josh-LJ-Peter drama once her help is needed, almost immediately getting the “sex tape” removed from social media. It’s tough to tell whether Margot is an introvert or extrovert, as she doesn’t get a ton of screen time, but given that she seemed popular in high school and she already has a group of friends in college, I say extrovert.

Daniel Covey - ENFP “You made your old man very happy.”

Lara Jean’s dad is goofy, supportive, and non-traditional. He’s able to separate his doctor side and dad side (Ne), giving her condoms even though he doesn’t think she should have sex. We also see his Fiwhen he talks about her mom. He’s been missing her so much that he was unable to open up about her to his daughters. Being aware of his emotions but internalizing them is classic Fi. I guess we see where Lara Jean gets it from! Once he opens up at the diner, he clearly enjoys looking back at the memories (Si).

#to all the boys i've loved before #lara jean #peter kavinsky #MBTI #myers briggs #personality types #INFP #ENFJ #INFJ #ENTJ #ESTJ #ENFP

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kashimos-hajime · 7 years ago

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Social Justice

Request: could you do a peter kavinsky x reader imagine where everyone in the school knows your Peter's, so they don't even dare try hitting on you, except this one guy does it so often that Peter just gets so angry. But instead of yelling at him in a angry manner, Peter confronts him with such sarcasm and calmness that it ends up scaring the guy away? yeah idk? something like that i guess...

A/N: Hope I do you justice, anon!

As always, thank you @teawithbucky for giving this a read over before I let you all read it.

Masterlist and Taglist are in my bio!

Summary: When a new student threatens the power couple of high school, you and Peter Kavinsky firmly put him back in his place with a proper verbal smack down.

Characters: Peter Kavinsky

Wordcount: 1.7k

Rating: T (swearing, one slap, sexual harrassment, strong feminist views because I can’t help myself and I love writing a strong Reader)

You grab your what-was-once-hot coffee and sigh, raking your gaze over the stack of textbooks in your locker. It’s lunch (finally) and you’re exhausted.

“Hey, babe,” Peter greets, sneaking up behind you with his hands on your hips. Not paying him any mind, you cast a doubtful look at the chemistry textbook, wondering if you should study during lunch.

“How was the chem test?” you ask and he plucks the takeaway coffee cup from your hand. He quickly presses a kiss to your neck before taking a sip of your coffee. Making a face, he swallows painfully and you try to stifle a smile.

“It was pretty easy. You should be good to go for tomorrow.” He heads down the hall to throw away the cup as you nod to yourself. That means less work for you. Closing your locker, you smile at your boyfriend. He always has a habit of making you smile even when all you want to do is frown so much that the lines become permanently engraved on your face. Adjusting your backpack, you sneak an arm around his waist as he tosses one around your shoulders, bringing you close.

“Wanna get some subs?” Shrugging, you push open the school doors just as someone calls your name.

“(Y/N)! Hey!” Turning around, you feel Peter’s arm fall away as you spot Thomas Callaway who’d been assigned as your chem partner since the new seating arrangement had taken place. Also a new student, you’d been assigned as his tour guide for his first month. “Hey.”

“Thomas, hey.” Smiling, you brush a piece of hair behind your ear as Peter grabs your free hand, kissing your temple. “Do you need something?”

“Uh, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me to the movies? See the new Shades of Grey movie?” He has a smirk on his face but you, knowing that every Thursday means a chill night with Peter, shake your head.

“Sorry, I have plans.” With one last (not so) apologetic look, you and your boyfriend turn around and he reaches for the door when Thomas calls out again.

“How about lunch? We can ditch the afternoon.”

“I’m gonna get subs with Peter,” you say and Thomas’ eyes go to the taller Peter Kavinsky who has an indifferent expression directed down at him.

“Right. Is that even allowed?”

“As long as you don’t tell,” you say flatly. “Can you find your way to the cafeteria?”

He stutters for a moment, at a loss for words before uttering, “Yeah. Uh, maybe next time?” You shrug and then the two of you turn. Tossing a glance over your shoulder, you offer a forced smile.

“Yeah, next time.”

As the two of you leave the high school, Peter lets go of your hand and resumes the arm around your shoulder.

“Who was that?” he asks, acting disinterested. Knowing he’s only trying to act aloof, you nudge him in the ribs.

“My new chem partner. Play nice for now.”

“If he doesn’t stop flirting with you, I might have to mark my territory,” he mumbles with a hot glare and you laugh, resting your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t worry. I don’t like him either.” He tilts your chin up, pressing a full kiss against your mouth. Pushing back, you wrinkle your nose when he pulls away first. “Come on. We needa get back in time.” Tugging your hand, the two of you start in a run towards the Subway down the block.

As the month goes on, you find yourself more short-tempered and annoyed than a usual first month back. Normally September’s weather makes you all calm and happy, but with Thomas Callaway as your parasite, you find yourself being unable to be anything but.

It started out fine. Little proposals to hang out, to study, and then it became outrageous.

“Hey, good lookin’.”

“If your name came up in ‘Smash or Pass’, I’d full on smash.”

“Your ass in jeans shouldn’t be legal.”

Let’s just say Peter’s temper matched yours whenever the two of you saw him. To say the most popular couple in school is on a warpath is an understatement. Although the both of you are well respected in your own right, everyone knows to stay the fuck away from either of you. Every girl and guy has made a solidarity pact and everyone likes (or respects or fears) both you and Peter too much to so much as glance in the direction of your boobs and his dick.

Callaway just didn’t get the damn fucking memo.

As the date of homecoming approaches, you know that Peter will plan something elaborate to ask you out. Every year you feel the urge to tell him it doesn’t matter. He could ask you while you were in the middle of the exam and you’d still say yes. Not enthusiastically, but you would say yes. Unfortunately for you, that means that Thomas Callaway’s ��suave’ flirtations doubled in amount.

As you stand at your locker during break, stuffing your notebook into your locker, you feel another presence hover over you.

“Hey, (Y/N).” Mentally preparing yourself, you pay Callaway no mind even when his breath puffs over your ear. “You got a date to homecoming? Because if you don’t...” He clicks his tongue and jabs a thumb towards himself. Rolling your eyes, you pause to calm yourself down before beginning to jam your textbook into your locker a lot harder than God intended.

“As I’ve told you a thousand times, I am going with Peter. I have been dating him since I have met you; that is not going to change, and I don’t want to go with anyone else.”

“Aw, come on. What does he have that I don’t?” Callaway asks, coming closer until his lips brush against your ear. Closing your eyes, you give him a count to three. You know people are staring and whispering, probably at how stupid this new guy is and when you give him two extra seconds and count to five, you’re wondering why you’re so merciful today. “Come on, baby, why don’t you bend over-”

“Woah!” Whirling around, you slap him hard across the face. He stumbles back as you storm up to him, digging a finger hard into his chest. “No. You don’t get to say that. You do not get to come to my locker, into my personal space, and insinuate things I don’t like, even after weeks of me saying no. You may have been able to push around other girls, make them feel uncomfortable, but let me tell you,” you chuckle, “you chose the wrong girl. I am not afraid to stand up to you. I am not afraid to make a scene. You have been sexually harassing me, even when I have calmly, firmly told you no. I have been forced to work with you because the school has told me to do so. You seem to mistake it for interest. I assure you. It is not. I loathe you. I despise you. And don’t think I won’t report you to the goddamn principal. You’re nasty.”

“You wonder what Peter Kavinsky has over you? A sense of what consent is near the top of the list,” you snap. “Leave me alone, Callaway.”

“Bitch,” he spits and you laugh facetiously. So he’s one of those people. “You’re probably one of those sluts who has him wrapped around your finger while you go off blowing all his friends.”

“Oh, don’t be one of those sad, sad guys. Calling me names because I hurt your little fragile ego? Slut-shaming? Really? I hope you grow up before you even think about asking another woman out again.” Slamming your locker closed, you turn to walk away when you see your boyfriend standing there with a slight smile on his face. A crowd has half-formed, students littering the halls in a semi-circle around you but you don’t care.

“You know, that wasn’t smart of you to piss her off like that,” Peter starts dangerously, walking forward and placing himself between you and Callaway. “Mostly because one, she can fucking kick your ass and two, she has a boyfriend who can probably bench press you right now if he wanted to.” Peeking around Peter, you see Callaway stare at you. “You know what else was a genius move of yours? Hitting on a girl who has a boyfriend.” Peter smiles blandly at the shorter guy as he takes a few paces up to him. “I’ve let it go, seeing as how you’re the new guy, but let me make one thing very, very clear. You come near her again outside the classroom again, and I don’t think you’ll like what happens to you, Thomas. You are not worth her time with how you act and what you say. Grow up, dude, seriously.”

Peter genuinely sounds disgusted and disappointed; so deeply so that it makes you chuckle and he glances back at you. He winks and you smirk as he turns back to Callaway.

“Go, man. Why are you still here? You’re just embarrassing yourself.” There’s a long moment where Callaway stares at you then drags his gaze back to Peter.

“Whatever. You’re not worth my time anyways. Skank.” You roll your eyes. What a classic tactic to bid for the last word. Name-calling. Cute.

“Uhm, bitch, you’re walking a fine line.” Peter crosses his arms over his chest and for a moment, there’s a long stare-off. “You’re dismissed, Callaway.” Another tense silence, then Callaway turns pushes through the crowd. “Let him through.”

“Alright guys, showdown is over. Let’s just get back to class,” you announce as Peter finally turns around with that wide smile you know is for you.

“I am so blessed that you’re my girl,” he whispers and you laugh as you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him. “Honestly, I only wanted to step in for my two-cents but watching you verbally kick his ass was pretty great.”

“Well, now you’re making me blush,” you faux-swoon and he laughs, twirling you around. “Come on. Let’s get to class.” Pulling away, you extend your hand towards him and he takes it, swinging your arms as you walk to history.

“I love you.” Beaming from ear to ear, you feel your neck warm up as you stare at the tiles beneath your shoes.

“I love you, too.”

TAGS: @teawithbucky @shadowsndaisies @meemeehoelland

#to all the boys ive loved before #to all the boys i've loved before #tatbilb #to all the boys i've loved before movie #to all the boys i've loved before fanfiction #to all the boys ive loved before fanfiction #to all the boys i've loved before fanfic #to all the boys ive loved before fanfic #tatbilb fanfiction #tatbilb fanfic #peter kavinsky #peter kavinsky imagine #peter kavinsky x reader #my writing #peter kavinsky fanfiction #peter kavinsky fanfic

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truthofherdreams · 7 years ago

Text

is this clickbait? (#3)

also on ao3 + read the first instalment

MUKBANG | Q&A WITH LARA JEAN

Peter Kavinsky 2 • 5.6M views • 3 days ago

“Okay, you need to explain the food because even I am confused and I’ve been dating you for a few months.”

He’s never seen so many pastries in his life, which says something when you know he’s dating a professional baker. He’s come to see more cookie than vegetables in her fridges, and she always walks around with a layer of flour on her skin but. Still. That is a lot of pastries on the table.

“So basically,” Lara Jean replies as she walks around the table from where she’s switched the camera on. She waves as it as she sits down, before she goes on, “I always try my recipes a couple of times to perfect them, and then I often have to redo it on camera when I’m filming a video. Which leaves us with a lot of food.”

“An understatement,” Peter chimes in with a critical look at the numerous plates of cookies, muffins and half-cut cakes.

“I usually give them to local shelters or charities, things like that, so the food doesn’t go to waste. Because we obviously can’t eat everything on our own. But you wanted to do this video, so I kept this week’s pastries for it.”

“It’s Wednesday,” he points out. “You baked all of this in three days.”

Lara Jean shrugs, unapologetic. “I’m a perfectionist.”

Peter can only smile at that because, yes, she is. It’s one of the things he loves best about her, how passionate she is about what she does and what she believes in. It makes her such a talented baker and Youtuber.

“Anyway. Mukbang!” He grins at her and she smiles back, before he focuses back on the camera. “So we asked you to send some questions in for us, and we’re going to answer them while having a feast so. Enjoy! We sure will!”

Lara Jean laughs a little, hand hovering over the plates and fingers waving, before she settles on a macadamia cookie. “Okay, shoot first.”

He’s faster than she is, shoving half a vanilla muffin in his mouth like the heathen he is, before he takes his phone out to ready the first question from his notes.

“One of the most requested is about how we met and started dating. Care to explain?”

She nods and puts her cookie down. Although they will never gives the real explanation to the audience – no way in hell – they settled on a cover story early on. It would have come up at some point anyway, so better have all the details picked, just in case.

“Chris introduces us during a Vidcon party, actually,” Lara Jean starts with the truth. The lie comes next. “We exchanged numbers and started texting and that was it, really. We wanted to see where things would lead us so we took a leap of faith.”

“Which, we know it doesn’t sound terribly romantic,” Peter adds, making her grin. “And believe me, LJ is all about the romance. But it worked for us, and it’s the most important part.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she agrees.

Peter loses himself in her soft eyes for a moment there, forgetting about the world around him, the pastries, the camera rolling. It still takes him by surprise sometimes, how lucky he is to have her in his life.

He’s pretty sure he would have fallen in love with her eventually, fake relationship or not. He couldn’t stop thinking about her after that one party, and it’s only because her manager contacted his first that he didn’t ask Chris for her number. He’d been debating sending her a DM on Instagram for days when his manager called him. It was meant to be, really.

“Okay, next question,” she says, shaking her head a little to focus back on the task at her. She’s got her questions written down on a notebook, because she’s a fucking dork. “Well, questions. How does it feel to have such a public relationship and also how do we deal with everyone in the squad involved in our relationship?”

“Lucas uses us for clickbait more than I do,” Peter comments sagely, to which LJ almost chokes on a mouthful of cookie. He smirks a little at the face she pulls, like she’s trying very hard not to burst into laughter in front of the camera. Once he’s certain she’s fine, he turns back to the camera. “I’m probably going to burst a couple of bubbles here, but we don’t actually film each other all day every day. First because that would be waaaaay too much footage to go through, and also because our lives are not that interesting all the time. What is a few minutes in the vlog is only about an hour or two of filming per day, really.”

“And also,” LJ adds, now breathing properly again, “we’re all really good at boundaries. Everything you see in our videos, everyone has agreed to share beforehand. So it’s not as if anyone in the squad is over-nosy or anything.”

“Yeah, basically,” Peter agrees. “As for how public our relationship is… Same, to be honest? We decided very early on what we didn’t want to put in the vlogs and what was just for us. Our couple is so much more that what we’re showing you guys. Thankfully.”

“So stop asking for a kiss, it’s not happening.”

“Really?” Peter asks, teasing.

He leans forward before she can even notice what happens or stop him, planting a loud kiss on her cheek. She complains a little and pushes him away, and she does the thing where she lets her hair fall in front of her face to hide how embarrassed she is. The cutest shit ever.

“Pete,” she whines a little. He bites down his lip with a goofy smile that will, no doubt, result in a few comments. He’s fine with it.

And truth is, he’s careful about how touchy-feely he is with Lara Jean in their videos. He knows how important her privacy is to her, and that she doesn’t want to blast their relationship to the world, isn’t comfortable with millions of people witnessing their PDA. Not when they still haven’t been further than heavy petting, not when she still isn’t ready for the next step. And it’s fine, really. Peter would rather she takes her time and be ready than to coax her into something just because he’s horny. He would hate himself so much if that were to happen.

So he hides his smile with another mouthful of muffin and waits for the next question that arrives only a few seconds later.

“Next one is from one SimonSays,” Lara Jean announces. Then, with a little wave to the camera, “Hi Simon!”

Peter gives a two-finger salute to their fellow Youtuber and friend. “Sup, dude?”

“Simon asks if we have any collabs scheduled any time soon, especially ones that involve flying to New York and stuff,” she smiles.

“When are the Streamys again?” he asks, just to be an asshole.

She slaps his shoulder with the back of her hand, just to show he’s indeed being an asshole. Which really isn’t right, especially when it comes to Simon – fellow Youtuber, second nerdiest Hufflepuff he knows and all around amazing dude with an amazing channel and amazing boyfriend. Simon didn’t do anything to deserve Peter’s peacocky attitude.

“We don’t count being in each other’s videos as collabs since it basically happens every week,” Peter explains, since people often ask about it. “But Ronny has some projects with the girls, as far as I know.”

“She does,” Lara Jean agrees. “Also Dimples and I are in talks about a little something regarding being a woman of colour on the internet. And yeah, Simon is welcomed to LA any time. Heard that, Simon?”

“Bram still owes us a basketball match.”

“He destroyed you last time,” LJ reminds him, so simple and innocent about it that he can only make an offended face at her.

She grabs a cookie with both hands and takes a nibble, looking so fucking cute that he can’t stay fake-mad at her for more than a few seconds. A power she thankfully doesn’t know she masters to perfection, otherwise he would be in so much more trouble.

“Anyway,” he says slowly. “Next. Who said ‘I love you’ first?”

He was afraid the question was too personal at first, but the way LJ seems to melt on the spot has him reconsider. He can see in her eyes that she’s thinking about it too, the memory still fresh in both their minds despite it being a few months old now. A perfect moment under the stars, right after New Year’s Eve – the novelty of their relationship had them both giddy all through their stay in the cabin, until he’d taken her to admire the sky at night, one big fluffy blanket around their shoulders and mugs of steaming hot cocoa in hands. It’d seemed like the perfect moment, and it was.

“He did,” Lara Jean admits, soft and loving.

“That’s right,” he echoes, preening a little for the camera, pointing to himself with one finger. “Ya boy is proud of his feelings for his lady.”

And then she says, “We stan the destruction of toxic masculinity,” and he bursts into laughter for two full minutes. They’ll have to cut that, so he might as well kiss her too while he’s at it and get rid of all the footage in editing.

“Will Lara Jean ever move in the vlog house?” she reads, then immediately shakes her head. And keeps shaking it. For a whole thirty seconds. Just in case it wasn’t clear enough.

Any other dude would take that as rejection or a punch to his ego. Not Peter. Because he knows the vlog house is a whole fucking lot – more like some frat house that anything else, where they can do the craziest shit without a care in the world. And Lara Jean, she doesn’t entirely belongs in that kind of a place. She needs peace and quiet. A comfy armchair where to read. Silence.

It’s too early for any talks of moving in together but. He’s thought about it. Of course he has, he’s thought about a whole lot of things since he admitted to himself that she’s The One, capital letters and all.

So when – when, not if – they move in together, it will be at Lara Jean’s house. Or perhaps they can leave it to Kitty and find a place of their own instead. It doesn’t matter much to him. But it will be a place of their own, somewhere just for the two of them. And it will be perfect.

“To be fair, our kitchen is shit,” he comments.

LJ almost looks relieved at his words. “You have an electric oven. That’s barbaric.”

“Speaking of which,” he adds and grabs his phone once more to read the next question, “Has Peter ever tried to cook Korean food for you?”

She laughs so loudly she chokes on a cookie and sputters a little, then laughs and laughs and laughs.

Yes, he decides with a grin of his own, it’ll be perfect.

ItsNeverBro 3 days ago

WAIT LJ IS FRIENDS WITH DIMPLES SHAH??? HOW IS THAT BRAND NEW INFORMATION TO ME?????

View 8 replies v

CovinskyIsLove 3 days ago

LA’s hottest vlog squad! This place has everything! Adorable relationships! Unexpected collabs! Female solidarity! Men in tune with their feelings! Lots of cookies!

View 15 replies v

SimonSays ✓ 2 days ago

Seriously? Right in front of my salad? (How about you come to NY instead, huh?)

View 27 replies v

PizzaParty 1 day ago

we stan one unproblematic youtube couple. diza who? jerika who? i don’t know them

View 14 replies v

#covinsky #covinsky fanfic #covinsky ff #to all the boys I've loved before #fanfic #ff: tatbilb #ff: do it for the views

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still-i-fall · 7 years ago

Text

i guess we’re partying

To the anon who requested an au where the spin the bottle kiss happens when they’re older

Also on ao3

I spin it. It’s like it’s moving in slow motion, trying to decide my fate.

or an au where the spin the bottle kiss doesn’t happen until junior year

I don’t know how Gen convinced me to go to this party.

It’s not like we’re close enough friends for her to play that card, and her break up with Peter was almost two months ago, long enough for her to be unable to use that excuse as well.

Honestly, she probably just asked. Gen is Gen and when she wants something she gets it.

I just don’t know why she wants me to go to this party. It’s Gabe Rivera’s back to school party and he hosted one every year since the start of highschool. Weirdly enough, I’ve been to every one of them whether it be with Gen freshmen year or Chris sophomore year (the non college party she attended that year). Now we’re junior’s and I’m back with Gen, maybe next year I’ll go with Chris and the circle will be completed, though I doubt it, Chris doesn’t really do high school parties anymore.

Once upon a time, Gen and I were best friends, but then high school happened-- it’s still happening actually-- and we drifted apart. We’re friends, I guess, but nowhere near as close as we were when we were younger.

Actually, I think I do know why Gen wants me to go to this party: to be the designated driver. If that is the case, then the joke’s on her because I can not drive to save me life.

We’re in her car. Some Shawn Mendes song is playing on the radio and I can tell that Gen wants to sing along. Maybe she does when she’s alone, but around others she so self conscious of her voice. When we were younger, not even Peter’s participation could get her to join Choir.

She turns the music down a little, “So I got a new boyfriend,” she says as though he’s an object instead of a person, “He’s in college and really hot. We met at a party a few weeks ago.”

I want to ask if he’s hotter than Peter, or make a comment on how she moved on fast, but who knows how she’d react. Knowing Gen it could be anything from laughter to her throwing me out of the car.

“That’s cool.” I say instead, “Good for you.”

She nods, eyes on the road, “Yep. It’s nice to move on. I feel like I was tethered down for so long with… you know.” She can’t say his name. Everyone knows that she’s the reason they broke up, that she cheated on him countless times and he finally noticed.

I nod as if I understand, as if my first and only boyfriend didn’t move away a few weeks after we started dating. I’m not even really sure if it counts as dating. John Ambrose and I were only in 8th grade, though, Gen and Peter started going out in 7th grade and everyone always counts that.

The car ride from my house to Gabe’s luckily isn’t that far, so I don’t have to endure Gen’s chatter about her new boyfriend for long. When we arrive, Gen leaves me the moment we enter the front door. I can’t say I’m not surprised.

Just like the last two years, I head over to the couch and pull out my phone in an attempt to look less awkward. This happens every time, and I’m sad to say that some part of me almost expected it to be different. I don’t even know what I was thinking.

It’s like this for a little while. I scroll through my entire instagram feed twice and see that little ‘all caught up’ banner that I feel like is just there to mock me. Then, weirdly enough, Peter Kavinsky approaches me, two drinks in hand.

I don’t even notice him until he’s right in front of me asking, “You want a coke?” I stare at him. We haven’t talked since right after his break up with Gen, and even then it was about some party we all went to back in 7th grade. “I grabbed one from the kitchen for Gabe but he’s sorta busy right now.” Peter points over to the kitchen counter where Gabe and some girl are making out. “And I know it’s your favorite type of soda, so I just thought…”

I nod and smile. The fact that he even remembers that from when we were little surprises me, but I guess Peter Kavinsky is always surprising me, “Yeah sure, thanks.”

Peter grins back and sits down next to me, “You excited for school?” Here he goes again, surprising me once more. There’s gotta be something better for Peter to do at this party then talk to me, but I go along with it.

“Yeah, I guess. Junior year is supposed to be insane, though, you know, with all the college applications and stuff.”

He nods, “Same. I’m excited, though. Made team captain for lacrosse.”

It goes on like this for I don’t even know how long. At first, I’m not even really trying, barely holding up my end of the conversation because at some point I know he’s going to spot someone else that he’s closer with and leave. Only, he never does, and at some point in time I become just as enthusiastic as him.

Then Gen suggests spin the bottle. I don’t know why she did, she seems a little drunk, actually, so maybe that’s why, but I doubt it because then I notice her eyeing Peter.

“That’s so 7th grade though,” someone says, but Gabe shouts yes and grabs an empty beer bottle off of the counter.

“You wanna…” Peter gestures out towards the floor where everyone remaining at the party is starting to gather. Now that I look around, there’s not all that many people left meaning that it’s probably starting to get late. I should actually look at the time and head home.

But Peter’s been here with me all night practically, so I say yes.

He sits down next to Gabe and I almost sit down next to him but then I see Gen beckoning me towards her. I look between them, but Gen is my ride, and I really want to be getting out of there. Plus, I’m still across from him, so it’s not like we’re that far away.

Gabe goes first and gets some girl who I think is in our grade, then it’s the girl he was making out with earlier, and then senior guy who I sat next to in chemistry. After that, it’s me.

I’m starting to regret everything now, letting Gen convince me to ever come to this party, not leaving earlier, letting Peter convince me to play this stupid game, but now it’s too late to bow out so I have to go through with it.

I spin it. It’s like it’s moving in slow motion, trying to decide my fate.

And then it lands on Peter Kavinsky.

He grins over at me and I offer him a small smile back before looking to Gen to make sure it’s really, truly alright because she is my friend and he is her ex.

She rolls her eyes as if to say she doesn’t care, though, deep down, I can tell that she does, even if it’s only a little.

“Come one Lara Jean,” someone says and I look back down at the bottle, wondering why it chose Peter out of all the people here.

Deep breath.

Then I lean forward and kiss him.

It’s meant to be short and sweet, but somehow it becomes something else entirely. Peter’s leaning forward too, his lips slightly parted, slowly deepening the kiss. Some part of me never wants it to end.

Only then someone whistles and another person claps and I’m pulling away from his and his lips as quickly as possible.

I stand up, “Well that was fun, but I’m going to get going now. See you all later.” Then start walking towards the door. They’re spinning the bottle again, it’s Gen’s turn, but I’m too afraid to look back. I don’t even know how I’m going to get home until Peter surprises me again and beats me to the door.

“Want a ride?” He asks. My eyes widen. “Gen was your ride here, right.” I nod, “And she is in no state to drive, and still playing that game.”

I purse my lips and nod my head once more, “That’d be great, actually. It’s too far out of your way, right?”

Peter shrugs and says, “It’s like seven minutes away, barely anything.” before opening the door for me. It’s weird, tonight, hanging out with Peter felt like something straight out of 7th grade when him and I were almost as close as Gen and I.

The car ride back to my house, though, is pretty silent. Every once in awhile I’ll take a peak over Peter until we accidentally make eye contact. After that I stick to staring at my lap or the dashboard.

The seven minute drive to my house feels so much longer with the silence. It’s probably the kisses fault because before that we had no problem talking. Ugh, the kiss, why did it have to be so great, why does everything about Peter Kavinsky have to be so great?

It takes forever, but finally we arrive at my house. I turn to him and say, “Thanks for the ride,” before turning back around and moving to get out of the car. Only, before I can, Peter pulls me back.

“Wait, Lara Jean.” He almost looks like he’s surprised he ever said anything.

“Yeah?”

He smiles, “I had a lot of fun tonight talkin to you.”

I smile back, “Me too.” And maybe I’m feeling brave or something, but then I lean forward and kiss him. And he kisses me back.

It’s uncomfortable, though, me having to lean forward like that with the cup holder digging into my stomach, so it’s not a long kiss, but it’s a good kiss nonetheless.

“See you tomorrow morning for coffee?” He asks. Part of me, a small of part of me that’s so incredibly nervous about anything even sort of revolving romance is nervous, but most of me is still in shock from that kiss, and really this night in general.

So I nod, “Yeah, that sounds great.” And I can’t help but feel like this is the start of something amazing.

#to all the boys i've loved before #tatbilb #tatbilb fanfiction #tatbilb fanfic #ff: tatbilb #peter x lara jean #peter kavinsky #lara jean covey

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staygoldenlightning · 7 years ago

Text

An exciting new review experience in three parts! It’s gonna be a long one!

It was only a matter of time until I addressed this elephant in the room: I’m a little bit obsessed with To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before — both the Jenny Han novel and the Netflix original movie. And I’m pretty sure I’m not the only one. To All the Boys is the story of Korean-American, high school junior Lara Jean, whose personal love letters to each of the five boys she’s loved are accidentally sent out, all while she’s dealing with the challenges of her older sister leaving for college (and leaving behind an ex boyfriend that Lara Jean has always had an eye for). In an act of mutual damage control, Lara Jean and her former crush Peter Kavinsky enact probably the best (and definitely my favorite) rom-com cliche of all time: they pretend to be a couple.

I received a copy of the book (the first in a trilogy I haven’t read the rest of yet, NO SPOILERS) as a Christmas gift last year, and I read it back around February or March. Now that the Netflix film has taken Twitter the world quite literally by storm, I figured it was time I launched my thoughts right out into the eye of it. So without further ado, here’s everything I have to say about To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, presented in three parts.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before: The Movie

When I’m out of town for the night, Matt has a ritual where he gets a pizza or some snacks and watches a movie I wouldn’t like with the cat. Last week, on a night when Matt was going to be out late and my cat and I were home alone, I decided to do the exact same thing myself (except now I’m pretty sure that he would actually enjoy this movie too). Actually, there are a lot of reasons why this movie is good for EVERYONE, even us “grown ups.” I was feeling a little down on that particular day, and I needed something lighthearted and a little bit indulgent to get my mind off of it, so I put on To All the Boys, because even though I knew I wanted to watch it, I’d been putting it off, in a way.

While some nights since its premier I just didn’t have the time to sit and watch a whole movie, hype scares me away from things. Not in a hipster sense of “If too many people like it, then it must not be good,” but I fear the bandwagon effect. I don’t want to like it just because other people do and I want to fit in. But I have nothing against liking something popular if I actually connect with it. With this movie, I was actually expecting it to be a little cliche, a little cheesy, and a little silly, but in all actuality, it’s just the best rom-com I’ve seen in a really long time. Seriously.

The casting, the characterization, and the pacing all impressed me in their own ways, but what actually stood out to me about the movie was the cinematography and the storytelling choices. I’m not pretending to know anything about movies, but this could have easily been a movie that focused on the plot to give the people what they want: ROMANCE. While that’s still the main focus, the creative direction of the movie really surprised me with the handling of all the side conflicts circling around the main arc. Visually, it was way more interesting than you’d expect from a rom-com: the shots are interesting, and a little bit conceptual, and all meant to capture Lara Jean’s state of mind, not just what she’s doing or what she looks like.

I also give the movie huge props for something a lot of teen movies weirdly fail at, which is writing dialogue that actually sounds the way teens talk. There was no awkward slang, no overly-rehearsed sounding monologues, and even Kitty sounds appropriately mature for her age without going overboard. Even with it’s modern inclusion of social media, To All the Boys actually nailed it in the dialogue department.

I’ve only got one real bone to pick with the writing overall, and that’s the scene in the first act of the movie that, in my opinion, pretty obviously gives away the twist at the end. I read the book; I knew what happened already. But for someone that didn’t, I think they showed their hand too early. (Notice how I’m speaking in generalities to avoid spoilers). The reveal wasn’t explicitly stated, but I think it was too heavily implied. What Kitty says on the couch is enough. If there was a way that the dramatic irony of us knowing the secret that Lara Jean doesn’t could have enhanced the movie, I would have been all for it, but I don’t think they pulled that off. But this is still a small enough gripe not to ruin the movie for me.

And one more thing: the movie didn’t treat really any character as merely an expendable plot device. Lara Jean is and incredibly well-developed protagonist who I came to love almost immediately (how couldn’t I when she daydreams in regency-era period dress?). But the important thing is that we never stop learning about her; not all the information is dumped into exposition, we have to earn our full understanding piece by piece. While I did feel that Gen was reduced a little bit to the “mean girl” stereotype, we do eventually find out why she acts the way she does, and it’s actually a game changer, if only subtly. (Actually, it’s my opinion that the movie needed more Chris, too.)

This is also part of what makes Peter K. such a great character in his own right, not just as “the love interest.” What’s refreshing about Peter is that he’s a softer form of masculine lead that we don’t see too often, but the kicker is that he’s not afraid to show it from the very start (and to be honest, I didn’t get this as strongly from Book Peter). No “tough guy” layers to dig through—his heart’s pretty much on his sleeve, even though he’s still the cool guy all at the same time. Plus, Noah Centineo is a dreamboat (we were all thinking it). I’m telling you, he’s going to be the Chad Michael Murray of his time.

This is unfair and their outfits match.

While of course there wasn’t time for book-length dives into every character, even Lara Jean herself, the characters were portrayed in a way that encourages the audience to make a connection.

https://twitter.com/ivyjune12/status/1037885481302847488

I’m a firm believer that a movie is not a book. Obvious, but what I mean is that a movie doesn’t just have to be a direct retelling of the book in exact detail. In my opinion, if that’s all a movie does, it was unnecessary. I did all that in my head already. What I think makes a great movie adaptation is that it has to have something to say, some interpretation of the characters, plot, and themes, while still capturing the overall idea and spirit of the book from whence it came. I understand the cuts that were made for the sake of real-estate (though I’m hoping a certain deleted kiss surfaces in the sequel I’m praying for). What they did was tailor down the story to make it more self-contained, more refined, and more to the point so that it fit the medium and told they story it needed to tell while really letting us live inside Lara Jean’s head for a while.

But also, how much do you think Subway paid for that product placement?

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before: The Book

You’ll have to excuse my copy of the book, for it has the leftover residue of a “soon to be a major motion picture” sticker that didn’t quite come off all the way. Switching gears, To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before by Jenny Han is just about everything you want in a YA read: a quirky, relatable (and diverse!) main character, a pseudo-love triangle with ~nuance~, and a family secret or two threatening to fracture some relationships when it erupts. I’d known about the book for a few years (thanks, Tumblr), and I made pretty short work of it once I actually had a copy in my hands. The romance arcs made it a page turner in a lot of ways, with the way they criss-crossed and changed shape and came to a heated point.

That being said, I found the book itself a little slow in places in terms of pacing. It’s on the longer end of the YA spectrum, and while I can’t say I ever lost interest, I got a twinge every now and then when I finished a chapter without learning anything new, per se.

My other issue had much ado about Margot, Lara Jean’s older sister, who, despite not being present for the majority of the story, never truly leaves us. I completely understand why Lara Jean thinks of Margot often: she misses her sister, is distressed about keeping the secret, and worries that she’s not ready to fill Margot’s shoes as a caretaker. But in the book, Lara Jean is so preoccupied with Margot that I have to admit that there were moments I was sick of hearing about her.

What I loved most about the books was that Lara Jean’s romance was surrounded by several subplots dealing with friends, family, responsibility, family, and growing up. While a movie only has so much time before it loses us to sleep or boredom, a book can go on, night after night, expanding the main character’s world that we’re lucky enough to be living in. In the book, we get to see a lot more of what Lara Jean’s mom, and her Korean culture, means to her. We also get to see a lot more of how her family has grown from the past until now, and how they’ve all taken on changes before and after Margot’s departure. And maybe the thing I was the most heartbroken about was the letter in Margot’s desk and all the implications it held. Lara Jean wasn’t the only one with a secret, and I love the complexity it added to the sisters’ relationship.

https://twitter.com/ivyjune12/status/1037856493410897920

If you’re wondering about that Tweet, I was quickly disappointed and then overcame it.

Moving on, I’d be so interested to see what more movies would do with the material we have, because there’s a choice to be made at this point: do they go back and pick up the conflicts they didn’t have time for the first time around, or do they move on to whatever new ideas are hidden inside books 2-3? No matter what happens, sequel or not, the movie has actually really nudged me towards picking up the rest of the series—something I wasn’t totally convinced (Peter Convince-sky? No, but A for effort) I’d do before.

2 Outfits Inspired by Lara Jean Covey

I saved this little bonus section for last, mostly just to amuse myself. It was impossible not to notice how amazing Lara Jean’s style was in the movie; every outfit was a SENSATION and I haven’t stopped thinking about a single one. So, for giggles, I dug around in my closet and came up with the two closest Lara Jean outfits I own.

https://twitter.com/gicatam/status/1035720646196510720

1. Skirts and Stripes

A tried and true Lara Jean combo, a button front skirt paired with a cute (often striped) top can be found during a few scenes in the movie, but I would say I came closest to the airport outfit. While my color scheme is off, the spirit is there: I even braided my hair as much as possible. Fun fact: I am a cartoon character who owns this shirt in two different colors, and these boots are old enough that I can ~almost~ call them vintage (not really).

2. The Pink Power Suit

All right, it’s not a suit, but the soft pink blazer paired with skinny black jeans and a black choker was almost certainly a confidence move for the first ride in Peter’s Jeep. I don’t wear this pink blazer enough, and I wasn’t sure if I’d love it with this outfit because it’s more of a salmon than a blush (I want to introduce my best friend Squidward to everybody in town wearing a salmon suit). Actually, this combo worked out surprisingly well, minus the fact that I’m wearing a literal shoe string as a choker.

Actually, I’ve left the house wearing it like that before, and I love it. Fight me.

^This is the best image I could find of this outfit and I’m bummed about it.

Lara Jean’s style is the perfect combination of vintage revival and current trends, which is really everything I want to be in my life. I’m already making my list of things I need to add to my own closet: a yellow beret, a lot more bomber jackets, a gorgeous red ballgown. Maybe by the end of autumn, I’ll have the full collection. From now on, every time I go shopping, I’m doing so with the motto: “What would Lara Jean wear?”

If you made it to the end of this post, I salute you. Know of any other books/movies with outfits I should try and copy?

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before: Movie, Book, and 2 Lara Jean Outfits An exciting new review experience in three parts! It's gonna be a long one! It was only a matter of time until I addressed this elephant in the room: I'm a little bit obsessed with…

#Book Review #books #Movie Review #Movies #Outfits #Style

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angeltriestoblog · 6 years ago

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The One With All The Books: My favorites + tips on how to get out of your reading slump!

Ever since I was a kid, I've been obsessed with books: while most children I knew then were preoccupied with Barbie dolls and battleships, I immersed myself in fictional worlds and found trusty companions in protagonists who embarked on adventures that transcended the limits of the physical universe. Back then, I would sleep with them under my pillow, read them in the backseat of our family car even on rather turbulent road trips, and turn to them during boring class discussions.

Over time, they ended up shaping my opinions and world views, fueling my hunger for knowledge, and inspiring me to put my own thoughts down on paper. It's safe to say I wouldn't be the person I am now, had it not been for my love for the written word. Which is why I find it odd that I haven't made any of the standard recommendation posts that would normally be found on the personal blog of someone like me. In an attempt to fix that, I'm sharing with you my eight favorites of all time, not only to give them a fitting tribute (that will still not be able to do their profound impact any justice), but also encourage you to pick up a good read! Who knows, maybe it'll change your life as much as it did to mine!

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

As a kid, I loved both science and fiction, but always saw them as two concepts completely opposite from each other. When I found out that they could marry and live in perfect harmony in a genre of their own, I was over the moon. It was exciting enough, getting to teleport across universes by folding the fabric of space and time, encounter terrifying creatures who somehow parallel actual people on Earth, and learn about obscure scientific concepts. But, the fact that it manages to tie in the triumph of good over evil, and the power of familial love was just the cherry on top for me. I brought this with me everywhere I went for a solid two months, obviously with good reason.

The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery

My mom had recommended this to me in high school, and I put off buying it for so long because I originally thought I was "too old to be reading stuff like that". Much to my surprise, what was practically disguised as a children's book, with its simple prose and watercolor illustrations, served as both as a moral allegory and criticism of the way adults operate in today's world. Though its length can trick you into thinking it's a fast read, most passages demand to be looked at a second time, reflected on, and shared to the nearest person—if you're the type to protest against annotating, you might have to rethink your stance.

Inkheart by Cornelia Funke

When I was in grade school, my parents had this rule where I was only allowed to buy a new book during special occasions, to control the growing number we had piling up in our house. I remember seeing this in the NBS branch in Glorietta, and having to wait until the end of the quarter to ask my parents to get it for me. Oh, well: as the cheesy saying goes, "True love waits." Although if there is anyone who loves books more than I do, it's Meggie Folchart, as she has inherited her father's gift of bringing fictional characters to life. But, when disaster strikes, as it always does, she must learn how to harness this special power and save her family. The world-building and imagery is unbelievably rich, Funke doesn't just paint a picture in your head: she creates a whole ass movie. No wonder eight year-old me put her up on a pedestal.

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before (the entire series, but maybe the third was my favorite) (ok it was, don't tell the two others) by Jenny Han

The blurb at the back of the book certainly doesn't do it justice: I remember finding this at a nearby Fully Booked and putting it down instantly, dismissing it as another cliche YA novel. Sure, Lara Jean Covey has to deal with all five of her unsent love letters to her crushes being mysteriously sent out, but she also grapples with important issues such as identity, family, and—in the third book—the future. I read Always and Forever, Lara Jean during the summer before I entered university, and every single line resonated with me so much I paused at the end of every chapter to take a crying selfie. Plus, Peter Kavinsky is my literary dream boy: if I ever expect my future significant other to take me on a cross-country road trip to go antique shopping, they'll only have him to blame.

Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler

We're taught that we shouldn't judge books by their covers, but I'm glad my twelve year old self decided to brush that aside when she bought this. Although I didn't end up reading it until five years after, I devoured the thick hardbound in a day and a half, and was reduced to a ball on my couch shortly afterwards. I know the book has the most self-explanatory title, but it's just that it takes on the universal experience of first love and heartbreak so authentically. The stream of consciousness writing style and slow pacing may be an issue for some, but I reckon it adds to its charm, as it allows Min to take readers through all the motions of a relationship in a way so relatable, entering her headspace feels like slipping into a second skin.

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective Teens by Sean Covey

A friend of mine in high school had complained to me that her mother had made this required reading for her, and I suggested I'd take it off her hands for a bit. I ended up going through her copy thrice in a month. (Ah, what I would give to go back to the days when I could still afford to read on school days.) An issue a lot of books that claim to "change your life" have is that they elaborate on these supposedly groundbreaking ideas, yet fail to break them down into doable action steps. Fortunately, Covey shares his practical advice in a structured manner, complete with examples, illustrations, and the occasional dad joke, freeing it from any preachy or condescending undertones. I don't know how to say that this is the only self-help book you'll ever need without sounding like someone from the Home Shopping Network.

When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi

This paperback intimidated me from the moment I first saw it on a shelf, because of the metaphorical title and steep price. But, good thing I got around to buying it eventually: this harrowing story is told by a promising doctor with his whole life ahead of him, who turns into a patient as soon as he is diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer. Reading this was difficult, because I knew that no matter how hard I tried to dissect and reflect on the questions of life and death being posed by the author, I could never come close to understanding how he felt. But, that didn't make the experience any less necessary.

Big Magic by Elizabeth Gilbert

Creativity is a rather difficult concept to talk about in depth, because it seems so abstract. This is why the author advises readers to treat it as a living entity: one that bestows the best of ideas to those who nurture it, complements the hustle and bustle of our daily lives, and demands our full participation despite the looming presence of fear. I finished this on a school bus ride home from school, and the minute I got home, I marathoned Gilbert's TED talks and keynote speeches on YouTube: there is a distinctly tender, somewhat spiritual quality in the way she speaks about her craft, that easily makes you hang on to and follow every word she says.

Now I know books aren't everyone's go-to when looking for a way to pass the time: I've heard people say that they can't find time for it, that there's nothing out there that piques their interest, or they simply don't have the patience, given that social media posts and Netflix shows practically hold our attention spans captive in this day and age. While all are valid points, they can clearly be worked around! I was in a funk during the start of my Christmas break, because I hadn't touched a non-academic book since the new school year had started. But, I managed to finish four in the span of a month, and am currently on my fifth, as of this writing. Here are some tips I have, just in case you want to kick your reading slump in the ass as well.

Start small. Like with any habit you want to build, introduce the behavior in small increments: five push-ups, five minutes of meditation, fifty pages of a novella. Then, once you're starting to get the hang of it again and you don't feel your two brain cells shrieking for help because they can't figure out if "lived" is an actual word in the English language, you can increase it depending on your progress. This happened to me when, thanks to a notably bad case of tsundoku, I had amassed 14 (!!!) unread books in a year. I decided to tackle as soon as my vacation started, so I kicked it off with a rather easy read: Matilda by Roald Dahl, 232 pages thin, with numerous drawings.

Read something you'd actually enjoy! It's gonna be hard to stay engaged in something that doesn't excite or entice you: reading is supposed to be a hobby, not a household chore. Find something written on an interest of yours, a field of study that you've always been curious about, a person that you've looked up to for forever: I truly believe that there is no topic that hasn't been written about at this point in time.

On a somewhat related note, don't be afraid to DNF books that don't satisfy you. A lot of us pick books up because everyone else loves it, and are afraid to put it down for the fear of being othered. But, if we've all come to believe that we should sever ties with people who no longer serve us, what makes it any different for books that just don't touch our lives? I remember reading The Bell Jar when I was 13 because it came highly recommended by someone on Instagram who I found really cool. It was far too heavy for me, but I couldn't find the heart to shelf it especially after how much it cost me.

Remember that physical copies are not the only way to go. Thanks to the presence of audio and e-books, one can now enjoy stories anywhere and any time, without the daunting feel of several pages, or the burden of lugging around heavy hardbounds. (Although you are missing out on one of the best parts of reading: new book smell. Your loss.) One might find it easier to process the information this way, or even appreciate whatever the author has to say.

Talk about it with a friend! They could help keep you accountable in following through your reading goals, give you solid (and sometimes even personalized) recommendations, or accompany you in mourning over the death of a major character. It's always been a dream of mine to start or join a book club for these exact reasons, but I'm afraid this post is possibly the closest I could get to that right now. Nevertheless, I'd love to hear your suggestions and give you more of my own! Drop me a message here (or here, here, and here!) if ever you're interested.

Love and light,

Angel

#recs #angeltriestoblog #life dump #book recommendations #my favorite books #reading slump #this is why i have poor eyesight

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booksinabundance · 8 years ago

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Lara Jean Song Covey and Peter Kavinsky

I should probably talk about the Jenny Han series that recently ended on May 2, 2017. If you don’t know, I don’t think it has an official series title, but most people (and Goodreads) just call it the “To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before” series after the title of the first book. (Sidenote: It’s a really good title but super long).

The first book in the series was published in 2014, but I only started reading it about a year late, in early 2015 when I decided to try reading more contemporary books. It was the best decision of my life because if I hadn’t picked it up, I wouldn’t have encountered the incredible romance between Lara Jean and Peter. Of course, the whole series does not revolve exclusively around their romance—it mostly focuses on Lara Jean’s coming-of-age story, but with the help of a little romance.

After finishing the first book, I immediately pre-ordered the second because it was about to be published in a matter of months. When it finally came, I couldn’t believe how ecstatic I was with it. At the time, nobody knew that a third book was in the making. I don’t think even the author knew that it was in the making. All I expected was how it was going to end because I want to know what happens with Lara Jean and Peter and their relationship.

The journey to their romance from the first book was a slightly crooked one, because they first came together with the intention of making other people jealous, but Peter actually started to develop feelings for her, and Lara Jean just doesn’t know how to deal with that, what with it being such a freaky relationship in the first place. I love how she dealt with it, though, and I think that was a sign of her growing up.

The second book in the series continues with them trying to form a real relationship this time, and I have to admit that the journey was really fun to read. I liked how they were so honest with each other and how much they were willing to try with the relationship, especially on Peter’s side. As the reader, we can’t tell what Peter’s thinking because this is a first-person-POV story, so we can only tell from his behaviors and the words that he says. Judging from that alone, I really do believe that Peter loves her and we know now that it wasn’t fake at all.

The second book could possibly be my favorite of the three, though; it’s in competition with the last book because that ending is just perfect. All of my favorite scenes from the series come from the second book, so if I judge it on that aspect alone, then the second book’s my favorite. One of my favorites that really stuck out for me, especially after two years, was the scene in which Peter decided he wanted her back by coming up to her and giving her back the necklace that he gave her for Valentine’s Day.

I’m about to get into his car when I see Peter striding over to us. “Hold up a second,” he says, a pleasant half smile on his face.

Warily I say, “Hey.”

“Hey Kavinsky,” John says.

Peter gives him a nod. “I didn’t get a chance to say happy birthday, Covey.”

“But—you saw me in chem class...,” I say.

“Well, you left in a hurry. I have something for you. Open up your hands.” He takes the snow globe out of my hand and gives it to John. “Here, can you hold this?”

I look from Peter to John. Now I’m nervous.

“Hold your hands out,” Peter prompts. I look at John one more time before I obey, and Peter pulls something out of his pocket and drops it into my palms. My heart locket. “It’s yours.”

Slowly I say, “I thought you returned the necklace to your mom’s store.”

“Nope. Wouldn’t look right on another girl.”

I blink. “Peter, I can’t accept this.” I try to give it back, but he shakes his head; he won’t take it. “Peter, please.”

“No. When I get you back, I’m gonna put that necklace back around your neck and pin you.” He tries to hold my eyes with his own. “Like the 1950s. Remember, Lara Jean?”

I open my mouth and then close it. “I don’t think pin means what you think it means,” I tell him, holding the necklace out to him. “Please, just take it.”

“Tell me what your wish is,” he urges. “Wish for anything, and I’ll give it to you, Lara Jean. All you have to do is ask.”

I feel dizzy. All around us, people are exiting the building, walking to their cars. John is standing beside me, and Peter is looking at me like we’re the only two people here. Anywhere.

It’s John’s voice that makes me break away. “What are you doing, Kavinsky?” John says, shaking his head. “This is pathetic. You treated her like garbage and now you decide you want her back?”

“Stay out of it, Sundance Kid,” Peter snaps. To me he says softly, “You promised you wouldn’t break my heart. In the contract you said you wouldn’t, but you did, Covey.”

I’ve never heard him sound so sincere, so heartfelt. “I’m sorry,” I say, my voice whisper-thin, “I just can’t.”

Even though I’ve seen this passage many, many times, I still get the feels every time I read it.

The thing about this scene is that Peter is the one who wants her back. He’s the one who’s trying. The guy who takes everything for granted in his life is chasing the one thing that was willing to leave from Peter’s life. And then he mentions the 1950s, something that Lara Jean mentioned during one of their conversations and I remember vividly how, in that moment, Peter didn’t know what to make of what Lara Jean said. It seemed as though it was important to him, so for me, I thought that he would immediately forget about it. But, no, he didn’t, as evidenced by this scene. That is what made this scene the best for me.

I hate how her endings are very quick and don’t last long enough. Every single time I read her endings, I always want it to be more than it is, but you can’t always get what you want.

Now, to the final book. I read this two years after P.S. I Still Love You, and during all that time, I had already made my peace with the fact that it was a duology, even though I wanted MORE from the series. So it shocked me when a year later she announced to everyone that she would be writing a THIRD BOOK in the series. I couldn’t believe it at first, it just felt so surreal. The next few months continuously told me how much of it was real, like interviews with Entertainment Weekly, and the announcement of the release date, and then the cover. It all still felt surreal, but once the cover finally showed, I knew then that it was real.

The third book, this time, is not about how their relationship is going to work out. It already has. They’re relationship is as real as it could get. Peter does all these boyfriend things for Lara Jean and every scene that shows him doing just that is exactly why I love this relationship. Lara Jean doesn’t force Peter to do these things; he does it because he wants to. They even made a compromise about which movies they should watch and it is ADORABLE. But like all relationships, and life in general, something will cause a friction in their relationship, and that something is the future. Nobody knows for sure what their future will be like, and so seeing them form these plans is nice and all, but they’re not being realistic. It hasn’t even happened yet and they’re all being way too relaxed. I remember when I first got admitted to college. It wasn’t the best, the waiting part. It was stressful, because I was so afraid I wouldn’t get in. I had to have all these contingency plans because relying on getting into the one school is not a good idea. It was only through luck, I think, that I got in from the first try.

It wasn’t a wish for me to have on the couple that they should get hit by something bad, but that’s what being realistic is all about. You have to accept the fact that life can’t always go the way you want it to. It will go on, and the only way you will survive is if you handle yourself around it, not force it to change for you.

Another favorite scene of mine is in this book. It’s the one where Peter shows up to Lara Jean’s dad’s wedding and she approaches him. They talk about their relationship and Peter’s argument is spot-on.

“Neither of us wants to break up. So why should we? Because your sister did it that way? You’re not the same as your sister, Lara Jean. We’re not the same as Margot and Sanderson or anybody else. We’re you and me. And yeah, it’s gonna be hard. But Lara Jean, I’ll never feel for another girl what I feel for you.”

The last line is doubtful (when you look at it from a realistic viewpoint), but I love that he said that. I don’t care if it’s cheesy, most love stories are.

There is also another favorite from this book that is worth mentioning, and that is the final scene of the book, and the series as a whole. It’s when Peter and Lara Jean are lying down on the ground, and Peter suddenly says “The first sixth-grade assembly.”

It all seems so out of the blue, but when you read the book from the start, you know what he means by this answer because they’ve had this conversation before. They had a conversation about the first time they met each other, and Lara Jean doesn’t remember how she first met Peter, but Peter does. Lara Jean asked him about it, but he doesn’t want to say. Throughout the book, this isn’t mentioned again, so I thought that we were never going to find out how they first met. It wasn’t until the final chapter that we finally know, and I swear to God it was like Jenny Han knew that while reading the whole book, I couldn’t get over how they first met, and after a torturous amount of chapters and pages, she finally answered the question and it was AMAZING.

I don’t know if I will ever find a love story as great as this. Maybe I have, and I just haven’t realized it. Jenny Han, if you’re reading this, thank you for putting this couple out into the world for us to read. They mean a lot to me, and I appreciate you writing this story. I hope your next books become favorites, too, but don’t let it surpass the great romance that is Lara Jean and Peter.

#jenny han #to all the boys i've loved before #ps i still love you #always and forever lara jean

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mariakakarelis-scrapbook · 7 years ago

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To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before

In the beginning stages of most relationships, the couple is trying to discover everything about each other and are willing to do anything for each other no matter the situation, even the things they do not like. However, things eventually seem to shift over time and the excitement from the early stages disappear.

In Netflix’s To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, portrays the story of Lara Jean, who never openly admitted her crushes, however instead wrote each boy a love letter about how she felt about them, sealed it, and hid it in a box underneath her bed. Lara Jean finds out that this secret box of love letters has been delivered causing all of her crushes from her past to confront her about the letters they received. Meanwhile, as Lara Jean begins to learn and deal with her past crushes face to face, she discovers that something good may come out of all those letters. This film suggests thoughts about: Can the decisions of a family member affect the relationships that someone has? What can cause someone to rethink the importance of being in a relationship? How does a relationship develop over time?

The decisions of a family member can most definitely affect the relationships that someone has. The idea that families are constantly influencing each other about relationships affects the way its members go on about trusting the advice given to them and the idea of feeling ready to start this new chapter in their life. Most families try their best to guide each other in the right direction for what they think is best and tend to be caring for one another and put each other first. In the film, Lara Jean's little sister, Kitty affected Lara Jean’s relationships ever since she unsuspectedly mailed her love letters to every single crush that she had feelings for. This affected Lara Jean because she felt exposed due to having something so personal be revealed without her knowing. It affected her relationships with her past crushes because before all this occurred she never spoke to a single one of them. But ever since they got her letters they would not stop asking her questions about why they got the letters and it made her feel somewhat worried and afraid.

When it comes to considering the thought of what causes someone to rethink the importance of being in a relationship, we often tend to think about people feeling that it is important to be able to connect with each other and have that other person who you can share your thoughts and feelings to. However, sometimes this is not the way it works a person can feel the total opposite and feel as if being in a relationship is not essential with no importance. Lara Jean struggled with feeling ready to start an official relationship with the one boy that she really had feelings for, Peter Kavinsky, and thought deeply about this decision.

Most relationships start to develop when two individuals begin by communicating and learning new things about each other. Commitment is an important thing to consider when it comes to a relationship starting to develop because the couple has to feel committed to one another before entering the next stage. As soon as her love letters were delivered to the boys, her relationship with Peter changed. When they first started pretending to be boyfriend and girlfriend their relationship started off kind of dry but eventually, they ended up catching strong feelings for each other, because they started to get to know each other more, with the time that they have spent together.

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iki-teru · 9 years ago

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Headcanons - girl!Ronan and girl!Adam?

Oh hey. It’s like you have an idea about me and strong feelings considering this (seriously, sorry for the word vomit on your post. also sorry because I’m going to be rehashing a bit of said vomit here.)

In order for all this to work, Aglionby has to be co-ed. (which, really, makes Blue’s spite of it even more delicious. It takes her from “that’s a school I can’t go to because I’m not a boy” to something else. It makes her frustration in the later books more fruitful: girl!adam came from nothing, like her, but she chose to strive and make something of herself where as blue sat back for too long, accepting things as they are.)

So we have Ronan at school. Ronan of any gender is still Ronan: shaved head (Declan about hyperventilated), tattooed, living with Gansey (Declan is apoplectic), throwing fists at anything that looks like it might put up a good fight (and heaven help anyone who tries to bow up to her and look down their nose and say something stupid like “what’re you going to do, little girl, slap me?”)

Girl!Adam still works part time at the same places, because it’s what she knows. Daddy always wanted a boy but he got her instead and that’s no excuse to go skirting your chores and besides, helping out with the car usually resulted in a lighter knock about. Adam keeps her hair short. Out of necessity (can’t get caught up in an engine if it’s not there, can’t be yanked on by daddy if it’s not there) and she has to work a little harder to be taken seriously at the car shop, what does a girl know about cars (to which she says, calmly and with a flat gaze, plenty. She has to work harder but she refuses to put on a show, they either take her at her word or not. give her an engine and she’ll show the way around it, but she won’t make a spectacle of herself to make them feel better.)

Ronan forgets about the uniform skirt more often than she remember and takes to wearing a pair of small shorts underneath which disappoints the male population of Aglionby whenever they think they’re going to get a show. Adam couldn’t forget about the skirt if she wanted it, it’s a constant reminder and she wears the uniform like she wears her skin: uncomfortably and tugging at the hems.

They both still fall in with Gansey because he sees gender like he sees money: badly or not at all most of the time. People make snide remarks about Gansey gathering up a harem, which doesn’t make sense to him because Gansey. This embarrasses Adam greatly (not helped by the fact that her own parents make comments about her being a rich boy’s little slut) and just makes Ronan laugh her mean laugh, the one that’s almost more bark than humor. (Ronan is still called Gansey’s attack dog, called his little bitch, which upsets Gansey more than it does Ronan. Gansey goes all red at the ears and says “you’re not …. not a that.” and Ronan merely shrugs and says “but I really am.” and people tell her to smile, that young ladies are so pretty when they smile and Ronan obliges but it’s too sharp and all teeth and the person who asked for a smile is filled with instant regret. Someone tries to pull that on Adam and she just blinks at them and says “no, I don’t think I will.” Adam gets a reputation for being stuck up but nobody says anything to her because Ronan is never far away.)

Blue happens and Adam has an epiphany and unlike Ronan, she doesn’t internalize her feelings, just examines them over the slices of pizza and goes “yes, this is a thing that is happening.” and she still doesn’t know how to really flirt, but she tries. Blue accepts. They hold hands a lot. Ronan is furious but nobody knows why Ronan is furious except maybe Ronan (and only a little, because she still won’t let herself acknowledge that Adam is her secret. It burns is all, Adam and Blue holding hands, two girls staring softly into each other’s eyes that way and it could have been HER if she were a little braver, a less afraid.)

Blue asks her mother and her aunts and her cousins at least a hundred times. “My true love. It’s a he. He’s a boy. Are you sure?” To which they say: Yes definitely. and she tries not to be disappointed by that and she decides not to kiss Adam anyway, just to be safe, because true love or not, she’s very fond of the other girl. (when they fall out, when Adam finds out about Blue and Gansey she’s hurt and wonders if Blue meant anything she said when they were together and if she was embarrassed about being with a girl. It’s an ugly fight but they come back around and are stronger friends after.)

Kavinsky still shows Ronan how to Dream. At the beginning of it Ronan lays down clear ground rules. “You and me? we’re not a thing.” and Kavinsky laughs “no worries. You’re not my type.” It still ends in fire and self destruction. Ronan still walks away from it feeling like she belongs in her own skin, truly, for the first time since her father died.

When Aurora is revived she’s dismayed to see how wild her daughter has gone. “you were so pretty,” she says and pets hair that Ronan no longer possesses. She leaves Aurora’s glade feeling weirdly upset with the situation. Blue assures her that’s just how mom’s are. “Mine hates everything about my style” (to which Ronan replies: yeah but you look like you fell out of a dumpster fire, sargent. and lightly socks blue in the arm to let her know it’s mostly a joke) and on her other side is Adam, quiet until she’s not. “I think you still look pretty.” there’s a meaningful exchange of glances between Ronan and Adam and Blue makes a noise that’s not as disgusted as it should be as she falls back to walk alongside Gansey who is having some sort of internal crisis because he’s just realized all his friends are girls and a ghost and that in a way, it’s his fault that Ronan and Adam get so much shit at school but he doesn’t now how to fix it without sounding like a douche.

(IDK if this is 5 because i didn’t number anything but it feels like it might be 5 ish)

#iki teru used reply it's super effective #corvid youths #meme me

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kashimos-hajime · 7 years ago

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Pachelbel’s Canon in Disaster

Request: firstly I just want to say that your writing is insanely good & I love reading your stuff. secondly i wanted to know if I could send in a Kavinsky request if that's ok? you invite peter to a family function to meet your extended family & he's nervous because he's afraid that they wont like him because they kinda have a thing about dating within your race (I'm coloured/black btw) its always something i worry about sadly but if you don't feel comfortable writing this that's fine

A/N: That sucks that you have to deal with that anon. I hope your family opens up soon and you can love who you want to love. Unfortunately, I didn’t write it as a black reader because I am not black and I don’t want to offend anyone by using stereotypes. Therefore, I used people of my own race (Chinese) and went from there. Hopefully, it’s okay! I mostly wrote fluff for this because I don’t think I can bring myself to write such hate right now. Sorry for such a long wait.

As the usual, thank you to @teawithbucky for being the OG.

Masterlist and Taglist are in my bio!

Summary: When you’re invited to your cousin’s traditional Chinese wedding, your boyfriend’s feelings about meeting more of your family resurface and while you don’t want him uncomfortable, you do want him to go. So, it’s up to you to convince him.

Characters: Peter Kavinsky, Chinese!Reader

Wordcount: 1.8k

Rating: K+ (soft, sweet fluff)

You knead the back of your neck with your fingers as you wait for the water to boil. It’s nearly there and you just want to make some noodles. There’s a soft rhythmatic pad of footsteps and you turn around to see Peter coming down the stairs with the messiest bedhead you’ve ever seen. Your other housemates are either asleep or out so you have to house to yourselves as long as you’re quiet.

“Morning,” he calls sleepily, collapsing on the couch in the living room. “You’re home?”

“Because it’s noon,” you reply as you start seeing the bubbles you’ve been waiting for. Taking out a frozen slab of udon, you slip it into the water and cover the pot. “You want some lunch?”

“Yes, please,” he says, voice scraping hoarsely. You smile at him, shaking your head as he gets up and makes his way into the kitchen, sitting on one of the tall stools at the counter. Heading around to him, you press a kiss to the side of his head before pecking his lips. His arms wrap around you, pressing his face into your stomach. “Squishy,” he mumbles into your middle and you laugh, threading your fingers through his hair.

You and Peter have been dating since he saw you at the movie theatre. You two hit it off since he saw you at the release of Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 at your local cinema and had argued profusely over who was your favorite (yours being Yondu, his being Gamora, which then led to an argument if Yondu even counted as a Guardian, which led to you winning and him asking you out and you saying if he ever had the luck to see you again). Over a few chance encounters, you found yourself becoming close friends and then falling head over heels in love, leading to you taking the initiative and asking him out.

The two of you now live in a house along with three others that go to a university with Peter. You yourself is an aspiring actor and have just landed a role in a TV show that’s meant to be a mid-season replacement. Hopefully it hits off.

“You don’t have work today?”

“I already finished my scenes,” you say. “I woke up at midnight, drove over, finished at ten this morning.” He raises his head, chin against your stomach and you grin hopelessly at his wide brown eyes and tangled brown hair that falls into his eyes.

“You didn’t wake me up?”

“You were binge-watching Brooklyn Nine-Nine again,” you say with a sigh. Brushing hair away from his forehead, you bend over and kiss his forehead. He smiles as you pull away and go to the pot to make sure it doesn’t burn. You take the chopsticks that are resting atop the bowl and stir around the noodles, separating them. As you do so, your phone rings and you glance over your shoulder to look at the ID. When you see it’s your mom, you look to Peter.

“Can you answer that? It’s my mom.” He takes the phone, swiping to accept the call.

“Hey, Mrs. (Y/L/N).” You turn back to your pot as Peter makes conversation with your mom. You know they get along fairly well since introducing them a few months ago and you like how they interact so you just continue cooking. Covering the pot again, you go to the freezer and pull out some dumplings you had bought before coming home this morning. Peter has a smile on his face as he talks and you use your chopsticks to transfer the noodles to a bowl and pour the pepper and green onion dressing you had prepared earlier, tossing it so it coats the noodles evenly before sticking the chopsticks into the bowl and placing it on the counter across Peter.

You slide the bowl over to him and he stops it with a hand before removing the phone from his ear.

“Your mom wants to talk to you,” he said, taking the bowl and starting to slurp on his noodles. Rolling your eyes playfully, you turn off the stove and go to sit beside Peter. The dumplings can wait.

“Hey, Mom,” you start in Chinese. “What’s going on?” Peter spares you a glance when you start speaking your native language, smiling and kissing your cheek. Turning your head, you ask silently for another on your lips and he obliges quickly before returning back to his noodles.

“Did you check your mail lately?”

“Yeah? Why, is there something important in there?” you ask, trying to think back to the contents you had quickly scanned before setting it on the small cabinet near the stairs. There were bills, ads, and magazines, nothing more but-

Oh, wait.

“Oh, the wedding invite! Yes, I got it, plus he emailed me yesterday to make sure.” Getting up, you go said cabinet and take out the white envelope with the card within. Bringing it back to the kitchen, you open it and slide out the card.

“Can you make it or do you have filming on that day?” Checking the calendar hanging on the wall with a quick look, you shake your head before remembering your mom couldn’t see you.

“No, it should be fine. Unless I’m pulled for reshoots, I should be done by March so I can make it,” you say and you hear your mom giggle on the other end.

“I can’t wait to see your cousin in a suit,” she says nefariously and you sigh, eyes resting on Peter who’s sipping on his soup. “You should bring Peter along, have him meet the family.”

“Oh, yeah, of course. Bye, Mom.” Hanging up, you set your phone down and read over the invitation. Seeing as it’s January, you highly doubt the director would pull you in for reshoots when the weather is completely gone in March. The series is nearly in post production and you sigh, leaning forward on your elbows.

“What?” Peter asks, setting his now empty bowl in the sink. You sigh, coming around to stand by him near the sink as he begins to fill the bowl up with water so nothing will stain. He turns to you and you loop your arms around his neck, pulling him down. Kissing him multiple times, you just savour in his presence. There hasn’t been enough time between you lately and as the snow outside layered on the sill of the window, you just brush noses with him.

“I have to go to a wedding,” you mumble, lost in his scent, as his hands settle on your hips. He’s always had this effect on you. “My mom said I should bring you as my plus one.” He frowns and your eyes scan his face, not exactly confused. He’s always shied away from meeting your family, with your differences. In fact, he had made you make sure he learned everything he could about what was proper and what wasn’t, teach him how to make chopsticks, and even when he became a regular guest, Peter always helped with the dishes and tried to be almost overly helpful.

Now, his worry had faded away after a long stalemate in the war between you and your parents. They had hated that you brought some guy who seemed lazy, sleazy, and white, and you hated that they never saw past that. The only reason you are now on speaking terms is the fact that Peter proved them wrong and they let go of their prejudices. Still, clearly the confrontation lingers in Peter’s mind as much as it does in yours from time to time. You hate to see it resurface as a much bigger beast at the thought of meeting your extended family when the two of you had thought that part of the war was over.

“And?”

“Well, do you want to come?” you ask nervously. “You don’t have to but it’ll be nicer if you’re there.” You search his face, reading every inch of his hesitation.

“I’ll think about it.” You cup his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek and smile.

“Okay.” Pulling away, you sigh and he leans down to press his lips into your hair. Your hands trail down his neck and onto his arms, holding him there until you are ready to leave.

The topic becomes a dreaded subject. Every time one of you sees the calender with the red circle around the date of the wedding, either you or Peter leave the room. You hate how your relationship changed but you can’t help it. Especially because it’s a traditional chinese marriage, you know it just amps up the pressure on Peter to accept. If he says no, it may seem like he’s disrespecting your culture because he doesn’t think it’s worth his time. If he says yes, he may think or say or do something he thinks is wrong and therefore not have any fun at all.

When there are two weeks before the wedding, you and him are hanging out in your shared bed. You’re resting at the head of the bed, back against the headboard as you work on your newest resumé while he’s sprawled across the end of the bed on his back, scrolling through his phone and reading the textbook he downloaded onto his phone.

You sneak glances up at him, trying to approach the subject carefully. You don’t know how to say it, nor how to broach the subject but you want him to come. You want to show off your boyfriend like everyone else in your family does, and you want him to meet people you’ve grown up with all your life.

“So… it’s two weeks away,” he finally says, letting his phone and his hands drop to his sides. “I still don’t know whether or not I want to come. I’ve thought about it,” he adds, propping himself up on an elbow and turning to you. “Believe me, I have.”

“I know.” You close your laptop and set it aside as he crawls up between your legs and rests his head on your tummy. Threading your fingers through his hair, you sigh. “You’ve been using that brain more often than usual,” you tease, leaning over and pecking his forehead. He glares and scrunches up his face at you but you merely sigh, remembering the situation.

“I want to go, (Y/N). You know I do. I just can’t-”

“I can teach you. Everything I know about traditional weddings; everything from clothes to food to manners. We can start and if you feel ready by the date of the wedding, we can go together, okay?” A hopeful smile crosses his face and he sits up.

“Really?”

“Yeah. What do you think?” Leaning over, he kisses you hard against the lips and you laugh into it as the two of you roll over in bed. He gently moves your laptop to the nightstand as you land on top of him.

“I think it’s a fantastic plan.” Beaming, you lean down and your noses brush.

Two weeks later, Peter stands beside you at the wedding reception, your hand in his.

Your smiles can not be brighter.

TAGS: @teawithbucky @shadowsndaisies @itzyagirlrae

#to all the boys i've loved before #to all the boys i've loved before x reader #to all the boys i've loved before movie #to all the boys ive loved before #to all the boys ive loved before x reader #tatbilb #tatbilb x reader #tatbilb fanfic #tatbilb fanfiction #to all the boys ive loved before fanfiction #to all the boys ive loved before fanfic #to all the boys i've loved before fanfiction #to all the boys i've loved before fanfic #peter kavinsky #peter kavinsky imagine #peter kavinsky x reader #peter kavinsky fanfiction #my writing #peter kavinsky fanfic

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truthofherdreams · 7 years ago

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life behind the camera (#3)

also on ao3 + main instalment + outtakes

“So, Peter’s mother,” is how Lara Jean introduces the subject as she sits on John Ambrose’s couch.

He’s done filming for today’s video, laptop propped up in front of him and slowly importing the video he will then start to edit. She caught him at a good time – not yet too busy – but still he arches a surprised eyebrow at her.

“Rachel Kavinsky,” he spells out slowly, deliberately. “Doesn’t like me much, to be honest.”

“What, you? No! You’re like, the poster boy for parents to like.”

He grins and she’s reminded of how handsome he is, in such a different way. Peter is Hollywood-handsome, the kind you find in magazines and movies and everywhere. John is more old-school, like he tumbled out of a black and white movie and decided to just salary living in modern times. Not for the first time, LJ wonders why he’s not dating anyone. It would be so easy for him to find someone to fall in love in love with him.

“Right,” he laughs. “She’s the exception though.” LJ doesn’t reply anything, but her confusion must show in the puzzled look on her face, because John sighs a little. His shoulders drop, slouching a bit as he looks for his words. “Peter ever told you what we were doing before moving to LA?”

She shakes her head. She knows they moved here when they were 19, and Chris followed them a few months later when Peter convinced her to join the squad. Greg was already living in LA when they met him, and Lucas showed up about a year later. Then came along Lara Jean, a few years down the road. But she never questioned what happened before, or how it all led them where they are, because she already knows. Passion, hard work, and their fair share of luck. She’s been through it too.

John sighs as he leans further into his seat. “Of course, he wouldn’t,” he says with a shake of the head, hand rubbing against his face. “We were both in college together, same room and everything. I was valedictorian so I got a scholarship for my grades; Peter got in with a scholarship for the Lacrosse team. That’s when his channel really started to explode too, because we had more time to film and edit and actually create quality content.”

She gets it, she thinks. It’s not something she can relate to herself, because her channel was already doing good enough by the time she left high school, so she only had to find a part-time job in the local bakery to help daddy with the bills. It wasn’t long before she was able to live off her channel, and she only waited until Kitty was done with school too before they moved to LA together. She never got to worry about a degree, or college, or even getting in.

But Peter did. Peter got it, did a full year of it while still producing content every week for his online audience. “You both dropped out to come to LA,” she guesses and finishes for John. It does make sense.

“That we did. And it was mostly my idea, so of course Rachel blames me for influencing Peter, and keeping him from his brilliant sport career, and all of this. I think it’s easier for her to blame me than to blame Peter, which is fine. We don’t interact nearly enough for it to be a problem, but. Yeah. She doesn’t like me much.”

“That’s stupid,” she comments. Because it really is, in a way. “I don’t know anyone who could force Peter to do something he doesn’t want.”

John’s smile is pleased, if a little shy, before he snorts a laugh and raises an eyebrow. “Well, I do know one person.”

Lara Jean finds herself blushing.

…

Lara Jean’s history with Oregon stops at one or two visits to Portland during tours, and that’s about it. She’s never been anywhere else, especially not somewhere as remotely lost in the middle of nowhere as Greenpoint. Their plane lands in the little hours of the morning, and then Peter rents a car at the airport, and everything is grey and cold outside, having her adjust the scarf around her neck and missing California’s weather already. She can’t remember her life before being able to wear skirts without tights, a life where cardigan were not just a night option.

They drive for two hours before Greenpoint’s town sign welcomes them. It’s a little town like there are so many in the USA, not unlike the one Lara Jean comes from. Houses built in residential areas, a sad little main street, corner shops everywhere, one lone Walmart at the outskirt of town. Try as she might, she can’t picture Peter and Chris and John growing up here. It’s too quiet, too empty. Like they had to compensate with their loud Youtube personalities to fill the void left by the town, like being loud on camera was overcompensating for the quiet of the place.

Peter drives by his old high school, just to show her. There’s a football stadium he says used to be for lacrosse practice too, and this one building where the cafeteria was, where John and he came up with so many ideas for Vines and videos. Lara Jean has seen pictures, Peter-as-a-teenager with his too tall body and too skinny shoulders, John with a stupid haircut, clothes that looked ridiculous. She tries to associate those images to everything she sees around her. But there is so little of Peter in those buildings.

His house is different. Better. There are family pictures everywhere, for one, him and Owen at different periods of their lives, from babies to toddlers to young adults. Boy sneakers still lined up by the door. A few sport trophies on display in the living room, and the fridge packed with Peter’s favourite snacks and those bottles of kombucha nobody else drinks.

His bedroom is the best.

It’s like someone froze time when he was seventeen, its own little millennial bubble. The bed is made, dark blue tartan, but everything else is a rightful mess. An old laptop sits on the desk, next to a mirrorless camera. Posters from overrated movies he’s forced her to watch at least once are on the walls, along with pictures of him and John, him and Owen, and even one of him and Gen that he takes down and throws in the bin. A few books here and there, mostly comics or hard scifi. More trophies than Lara Jean thought possible to win during a high school career. And clothes everywhere, one lone lacrosse stick, soccer and basket balls in the corners.

“This is so you,” she grins as she sits on his bed. It bounces a little.

“How so?” he asks as he drops their overnight bag in a corner and joins her. Kicking his shoes off, he lies down with his back against the wall, pulling at her hand until she lies down against his side.

“All over the place!”

He makes a face and she laughs. Maybe it should be weird, knowing what this bedroom has seen. She’s learnt enough from John and Chris, and sometimes even Peter, to know he only ever dated Gen before he dated her, no one else. This bedroom must have been the witness of many makeout session disguised as homework together, late-night phone calls, date planning. Lara Jean doesn’t want to be weird about it, because it is in the past. Gen’s shadow no longer has the power it once held on them, on her. She doesn’t feel second-best, or second anything. Peter loves her, and it is all that matters.

Still. Still, possessiveness surges through her as she wraps one hand around the collar of his shirt and pulls him toward her. Peter lets out a small noise at the back of his throat but doesn’t complain when she kisses him. Instead, one of his arm circles her waist and, before she knows it, Lara Jean’s back is against the mattress, Peter towering above her. She somehow wonders if this is what it feels like, making out with your high school boyfriend when the parents are not home.

“LJ,” he whispers against her lips, voice already breathless and broken. It’s been months of dating, properly dating, but Lara Jean still loves that rush, the one that comes with the knowledge of the effect she has on him. She hopes it never goes away, how it makes her heart beat faster and her skin warmer to his touch.

His hand sneaks under her skin, fingers splayed against the small of her back and bringing a shiver down her spine. She arches to be closer to him, mouth opening in a wordless gasp when his mouth find the pulsing point on her neck. That is new territory, after months of her being afraid of physical intimacy. She was so scared before, but she can’t remember why when only a touch of his hands or a kiss down her jaw lights her entire body on fire.

“I’ve been dreaming about this,” he admits with a chuckles as he noses at her collarbone.

She laughs too, and it comes out ragged and breathy. “Really?”

He nods, and lets his teeth graze against her skin.

Downstairs, a door slams.

They both startle

“Peter? Are you home?”

“Fuck.”

He lets go of her quickly and sits up. She does the same, fixing her top then her dress, carding her fingers through her hair so she can pull it up into a decent ponytail. There is no hiding the disaster that is Peter’s hair though, not when he’s been growing it out a bit and it’s now a mess of curls going in every direction. It’s hard to tame it, or at least make it look like Lara Jean didn’t just spend ten minutes destroying it with her fingers.

There is nothing to be done about their red cheeks, or the bulge in Peter’s pants, either.

“Hey, mom!” he calls back loudly. “Down in a second!”

He doesn’t meet Lara Jean’s eyes, but the way he tightens his lips is very telling; he’s trying hard not to laugh at the situation. So Lara Jean slaps his shoulder, faking affront and not-so-faking embarrassment, which truly makes him laugh. He’s already up, checking his reflexion in the mirror on his wardrobe, when Lara Jean tries to fix her tights and to ignore the warmth pooling deep in her stomach. That will have to wait.

“Ready?” he asks softly, after another attempt at fixing his hair.

“To meet your mom after a hardcore makeout session? Sure!”

He laughs once more and leans down to kiss her, hard and fast, which does nothing to help her forget how wet she already was from his kisses alone. Not exactly the right mindset for when you are about to meet your boyfriend’s mother, and her cheeks turn a deeper shade of crimson.

“It’ll be fine, don’t worry. She loves you already.”

That she does.

Rachel is nothing short of amazing as she coos over how pretty Lara Jean is, or how nice it was of her to bring a fresh batch of macadamia nut and white chocolate cookies, or how excited she is to finally meet one of Peter’s girlfriends. Lara Jean raises a eyebrow his way at that comment, but fills it in her ‘for later’ box. It probably shouldn’t thrill her that much, to know Gen and Mrs Kavinsky didn’t have much of a relationship, but it does. She isn’t even the slightest bit ashamed of how competitive she is, when it comes to being a more important girlfriend than Gen. Probably because she wins every round.

“It’s so sad Owen couldn’t come back for the weekend. I feel like I never get to see the both of you at the same time anymore.”

Peter rolls his eyes behind his mother’s back, but there is nothing short of fondness in the motion, before he grabs a bottle of apple juice in the fridge and pours them all drinks. “You saw us both at Christmas, mom. It was like, five months ago.”

“An eternity,” she comments. Then, turning to Lara Jean, “How do your parent cope with you being so far from them?”

She tenses, just a little, but enough for Peter to notice. He winces visibly. “Mom, I told you LJ’s mom passed away. It’s only her dad now.”

His mother lets out a little ‘oh’ of surprise, but Lara Jean cuts her off before she can even think of offering an empty apology. She is used to those by now, after all. “Actually, our mother wanted us to leave the nest and live our best lives. My older sister went to uni in Scotland, so LA is right next door for my father, in comparison.”

“And you guys facetime all the time. Which we do too, mom, if you remember!”

“Still,” his mother sighs, moving closer to him so she can wrap one arm around his shoulders. She’s almost as tall as Peter is. “You could visit more often.”

He kisses her cheek. “I will, I promise.”

…

Dinner is a quiet affair of homemade lasagna followed by bowls of ice cream in front of the television. Mrs Kavinsky doesn’t do the embarrassing thing with the family albums, but she does offer her fair share of embarrassing childhood stories that have Lara Jean laughing and Peter blushing.

They both offer to take care of the dishes, and work in comfortable silence side by side, the same way they do after a night in at Lara Jean’s. Everything is so peaceful and quiet, she understands how it makes for a lovely place to raise up children.

“I’m sorry about what happened,” he tells her once all the dirty dishes are either in the dishwasher or cleaned and put away. “I told her about your mom but…”

“It’s fine, don’t worry.” She sits on the kitchen island, and smiles when Peter puts his hands on her knees to pull them apart and stand between her legs. He smiles too, and they stay like this for a while, forehead against forehead, silent and loving. Which of course means Lara Jean has to ruin it. “You never told me what happened with your dad.”

Peter sucks in a breath. “They got a divorce when I was six. Owen was just a baby back then. As far as I know, he’s got a brand new family now. It’s like, whatever.”

Her fingers find his jaw, nails scratching against his late-evening shadow. He closes his eyes and leans against her touch. “We don’t have to talk about it, but it’s not whatever.”

He smiles, his hands grabbing her hips a little too possessively. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

“It’s always worth a repeat.”

#covinsky #covinsky fanfic #covinsky ff #to all the boys I've loved before #fanfic #ff: tatbilb #ff: do it for the views

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