#I’m sorry I forgot to post this here! I’ll share the rest of my college au doodles soon 💕 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

monsteronfire · 3 years

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Fishing for a Star

type;; One-shot (6.4K words)

pairing(s);; fratboy!JK x older!Reader/OC

genre;; Slice of Life, Smut, College AU

warnings;; Drinking, oral (male receiving), shy!Koo, sub!Koo, slightly dom!Reader/OC, Yoongi being a dumbass voyeur, both parties pining for each other like idiots

a/n;; I feel like it’s been a motherfuckin’ year since I’ve written and posted anything. I honestly started this thing probably a year ago. I just really love the chill college parties trope. Might add more to this, but unlikely. Enjoy my pain as I cry over JK in leather.

edit;; Totally forgot to put a read more tag on here, sorry y’all. I even told myself to fucking do it right as I started the post. Also the pic isn’t mine, got it off Google.

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“Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing.”

You step out of the way for your housemate, the hoodie you’d picked out momentarily blinding you while you pulled it over your head.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be putting it on.” You say, finally getting it over your head and shaking the hair out of your face. You blink at her half-way-to-getting-ready state, noting in the back of your head how good she looks even now. Her hair is done, wavy and a little disheveled. The shine of the dark strands makes you want to run your fingers through them, knowing they will be soft. Her makeup is half done and she’s dressed only in her underwear, but she’s beautiful all the same. You can tell she’s planning to doll herself up tonight and why shouldn’t she? It’s one of the biggest frat parties of the year and with it being her last year, she’s aiming to have a good time.

“This is a party, (Y/N). At least try and look a little slutty.”

You snort and grin a little, watching her pop her hip out while she eyes you.

“Why is that, baby?” You reply, reaching up to pull a couple of strands of her hair back into place fondly.

“I plan to get laid tonight. I expect you to too, babe.” She snaps, swatting your hand away.

“Sorry, sexy. I’m fishing for something special tonight and it doesn’t require the slutty look.”

“Oh god, not again.”

“What?” You question, turning back to the full length mirror and carding your fingers through your own hair to fix it.

“You’ve been after this boy for three years, (Y/N). He’s got you wrapped around his finger.” She states, walking away from you and back into the bathroom. You’re still smiling when you check one final time to make sure the jeans you’re wearing make your ass look great before leaning against the door frame.

“That was my plan from the beginning. Now I just need to wrap him around mine.”

She snorts, leaning over the sink and closer to the mirror.

“I said three years, didn’t I? If you haven’t bagged him yet, you won’t.”

You pout at her, but are undeterred. You know what kind of person he is and you’re well aware of how much work he had and will continue to take. You could tell he was not a one and done from the first moment you saw him. He would take time, a lot of it and you were willing to put it all in.

“You know how stubborn I can be.” You chuckle at her. She rolls her eyes, but smirks none the less. She knows she can’t say a word to change your mind.

“Whatever. If I catch you two together, I’m telling him to fuck you already.”

You laugh as you walk away, working on gathering what you’ll want to take to the party.

“You sure I’ll even be allowed at this thing?!”

“Are you kidding?! Everyone is invited to this party. The doors are left open so anyone can just fucking walk in off the street!”

You chuckle, grabbing your bag and stuffing your wallet in it. You’d graduated a couple years ago and while most of the seniors would know you, you sometimes felt weird hanging out at a party in the college you’d already graduated from. A girl has to do what she has to do when a baby boy is on the line, though.

And a baby boy he was.

“Jae!”

You smile as you and your friend enter the large, old house. The lighting is dim, the music is thumping and all you can smell is alcohol, sex and sweat. There’s noise all around you, but you and your friend weave through the crowd easily. Nearly everyone greets you as you two pass, guys high-fiving you and girls giggling and touching your arms. You bounce to the music as you follow her, the two of you making your way past the front stairs and down the hall. You make a pit stop in the kitchen- Jae grabbing the classic Solo cup and you pulling a bottle of beer from a cooler full of ice- before heading out onto the back deck.

The backyard is just as crowded as the house, people in the pool, people in the gazebo and people littering about the yard and deck. There’s a large bonfire near the back of the yard and a couple other smaller fire pits in random spots. One of them is up on the deck in a small metal pit, the warm flames surrounded by the very reason you and Jae came tonight.

“There’s our girls!” Namjoon shouts, lifting his can and drawing the attention of the seven other guys around him to you two. Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin all shout in unison as they spot you, Tae standing and pressing a sloppy kiss to your friend’s cheek. Yoongi and Namjoon lift their hands as you get closer and you reach out to slap each one. Jimin stands to press little pecks to first your cheek and then Jae’s. You all greet each other quietly before Jae slides herself into her target’s lap. She’s been after Jin all year and you haven’t been the only person sitting back to watch their game of cat and mouse. Jin is practically an expert at flirting just enough to keep her hooked without giving her what she really wants.

To be young and in lust.

Your eyes finally find the last member of the group, his silence keeping him out of spotlight unless he’s being searched for. He’s already looking at you when you spot him and his eyes dart down to his shoes while he shuffles behind Yoongi and Jimin. He can only keep his eyes off you for a moment before they find yours and he’s trapped. You smile softly at him, taking delight in how his eyes widen a fraction and his pupils grow. He’s holding a Solo cup, the rings on his fingers glinting in the firelight as he deftly squeezes them a bit tighter. He looks good tonight, his dark hair pushed back away from his forehead to show his strong brow. He’s dressed in all black, black t-shirt tucked into black jeans, black boots and to top it all off a leather jacket. He definitely pulled all the stops on you tonight and you have to make a conscious effort not to drool when you stare at him. He looks like a badass and you know every other girl in this joint sees him the same way, but you know the truth.

“Uh-oh,” Jae mumbles into Jin’s ear.

“She’s spotted her target and is locked on.”

You don’t bother listening to her, instead creeping closer to the object of your desire.

“Hey, Jungkookie,” You murmur quietly to him, leaning in a bit closer, but not too close. You had to be very meticulous with him.

“Hey, noona,” he responds shyly and the whole circle of friends is a sniggering mess for a moment. Pink begin’s to dust his cheeks, but you spare him a little and turn to flick Jimin in the back of the head.

“You lot are pretty curious tonight. Weren’t you all having a conversation before we came up?”

They all snigger some more, but quickly go back to bullshitting around the fire, leaving you and Jungkook in peace. You take another step closer to him, half expecting him to maintain the distance between you, but he remains still and lets you get closer. Threes years it’s taken you to get even this close to him, his overtly shy and sweet demeanor keeping him just out of reach of your darker, more corrupted hands.

“You look good tonight,” you comment and his blush darkens in the firelight. He thanks you almost too quietly, quickly bringing the cup of beer he’s holding to his lips to distract himself somehow and it has you chuckling lowly at him. He looks away from you, avoiding your eyes and you can’t stop the fiendish grin on your lips. You finally give him some respite, turning away from him to join in on the random conversation that the group is sharing around the small fire pit.

Finally…

He get’s his chance and takes it without a second thought. He spent years hesitating in such small matters and found himself either missing out or always caught if he didn’t take the chance when it was presented to him. So he learned. Now when you have those few precious moments where your focus is not on him- where you are off guard for just a beat- he gets to watch you instead. Watch the way your eyes glow in the firelight, or the way your hair just barely shifts as a warm breeze lazes by. He takes in your simple outfit, jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing like the rest of the girls at every party he’s ever been to. Your smile moves your whole face, your cheeks rising, you lips splitting and even your eyes squinting shut as you tease Taehyung. His lips quirk a little on their own when he notices that your ears shift a little when you smile as well.

Your lashes are long even without makeup, so much so that the first time he’d ever met you he could have sworn they were fake. But then he caught you tugging on them one afternoon while you told old stories with Namjoon. You did it regularly and had told him you could feel the dead ones coming out, you wanted to get them before they fell into your eyes. A quirk he’d logged away to keep safe for the rest of eternity. The beer in your one hand shifts to the other, the rings on your fingers clinking just loud enough for him to hear over Hoseok’s shouting. A hobby of sorts you shared with Jimin. You two wore the same ring size and often went shopping for new ones together, even swapping every now and again. The free hand moves about in the air as you speak and Jungkook thinks it almost weird now to see someone talk without gesturing with their hands so much. How did one truly immerse another in their words if they didn’t show them how it felt as well? When you were angry- fuming for either your own hardships or for those of a friend- you pointed a lot, your head shaking and your hands slicing through the air to signal how done you were. When you told stories of your adventures with the oldest members of his brothers your hands where always in the air; swiping, rolling, falling and twisting. You painted such a picture with only the movement of your hands when you spoke. They weren’t really dainty, your palms wide and your fingers not very long, but they fit perfectly with his hands. A fact that amazes him, but that he’s grown rather fond of. When you laugh, it’s loud. Not soft, not like the twinkling of bells, but like a song. Loud, but still beautiful and it can range from joyous mirth to deep and rich fondness, the type of feeling that fills your chest with warmth and adoration. That’s the laugh he enjoys the most, that deep chuckle. The one you give to him quietly so just the two of you can hear it.

He wants you. He was confused at first, for a long time. Scared of your mature age compared to him and your strength. He always sees you as strong, even if you don’t think so yourself. You always make him nervous, unsure if he is really worthy of the sweet attention you give him. The quiet whispers just between the two of you, the soft touches, the adoring look in your eyes. He fears all your attention, but he can’t deny now that he wants it- needs it. He can’t go a day without it.

The party winds down and you are delighted at the sight of mattresses being brought down and strewn haphazardly across the floor in their living room. When Jungkook finally picks his spot you waste no time in shuffling closer to his mattress. Normally you would keep your distance, allowing him his comfort of solitude to sleep, but you’ve already allowed him plenty of his liberties tonight. You will get something out of this evening if not a simple kiss in the dark. He shocks you by saying nothing as you lay down, your eyes just catching a glimpse of Jae and Jin heading upstairs. Probably to his room to finally earn what she’s worked so hard for. She quickly casts you a thumbs up, a large grin on her face as she tries to keep it unnoticed by anyone else in the room. You return the gesture and chuckle, groaning a bit when you body finally hits the not so comfortable springs. You take a moment to sigh before opening your eyes again and focusing them on the object of your desires.

He’s staring right back at you and your breath catches in your throat, lost in the sea of stars in his eyes. They’re wide and shining, staring so intently at you that you almost don’t take notice to the shine of his lips. Like he’s just licked them a few times. Even in the dim light of the moon that filters in through the windows and the very few lights in the house on you can see them glisten, and your eyes are torn between them and his shining eyes. He looks like a lost puppy staring at you, but there’s more in his eyes. He looks in awe, almost afraid and- dare you say it- a little eager. Like he wants something to happen, but it scares him and that thought alone drives straight to your core. A fire alights inside you and suddenly you’re staring back at him with equally wide eyes, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. The action immediately draws his large eyes to your mouth and fuck if you don’t almost groan when his tongue pokes out to lick nervously over his lips again.

His mouth parts ever so slightly and you swear you can hear him panting a little over the din of people ambling to where they plan to sleep. Someone plops down directly behind you, their back hitting yours as they shift to get comfortable. You’re right on the edge of the mattress, so this person has to be hanging off the one they’re laying on to be this close to you. And by the feel of how broad their shoulders are it’s definitely a man. Your eyes narrow and you almost growl when Jungkook stiffens in front of you and the man knocks against you again. Your head turns just enough to spot the thin, white shirt he’s wearing stretch over one shoulder before you’re shoving back with your elbow. He grunts when you dig into his back, but says nothing else, only leaning away from the discomfort. He’s clearly wasted. Still, he’s too close to you and taking the great opportunity presented before you, you scoot closer to the apple of your eye. He doesn’t shy away and it takes all your effort not to reach out to him when you finally focus back on him.

“Sorry,” you whisper, scooting just a tiny bit closer than you really need to. He shakes his head quietly, mumbling out an ‘it’s okay’ while his body leans closer to yours. God you want to ravage this sweet boy. It’s practically making your heart explode with how cute he’s being right now. He’d looked away in his response, but when he looks back to you he’s dragging his lip through his teeth and you really can’t take it. Again you two are lost in your own little world as you stare at each other.

“Jungkookie… you’re not being very nice to me right now.”

His eyes widen even further- if that’s even possible- and he looks almost stricken at the comment.

“What?” He manages to almost whimper out and you just can’t stop yourself from scooting even closer to him.

“You’re looking at me so sweetly, baby. How am I supposed to play nice with you tonight if you keep staring at me like that?”

You don’t know where all this confidence is coming from. Granted you’ve always been a bit more confident than the young man in front of you, but even still, you never thought you’d get to a degree where you were saying such flirtatious things in such a dominant tone to him.

“Play… nice?”

The glint changes in your eyes and Jungkook visibly shutters at the sight. Your eyes had been so deep and full of adoration just a moment ago, now all he sees is greed and lust. It makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants. Gods he’s been hard from the moment you called him that nickname- Jungkookie. He generally doesn’t like anyone, but the guys saying it. But every time you say it…

He’s almost scared to feel how excited he’s getting every time you scoot a little bit closer. He doesn’t want you to stop. Not until your body is finally pressed to his and he can hold you so tight, and never let go. He’d hoped something would have happened between you two before tonight, but he was always so scared and you were always so cautious with him. He just wants you to ravage him already. He’s dreamed about it practically every night, it might as well happen already.

“Stop,” you suddenly say and he can feel your fingers on his chin, pulling his lip from between his teeth.

“If you lick or bite your lips one more time,” you have to take a moment to calm yourself before continuing, “… I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.”

He throbs in his jeans and when he locks eyes with you he’s lost. He doesn’t want you to stop, he realizes that now after feeling your fingers touch his skin. Fire ignites where they trace from his chin and along his jaw. He trembles beneath your touch and you can feel it. Oh you can feel it. You do the opposite of what you just told him, biting your lip to draw his eyes to them again as you two gravitate ever closer.

“Unless you don’t want me to.”

He doesn’t speak, he feels like he doesn’t know how to in that moment. He doesn’t trust himself to anyway, so he does the next best thing. He licks his lips again and is rewarded. Your fingers that had been running along his jaw suddenly snake into the hair at the nape of his neck and you pull him close. He is just as needy as you are, his hands which had been fiddling with his shirt the whole time are suddenly flying up to tug your bodies even closer. Your lips crash against his and he whimpers into your mouth when you both open them simultaneously, your tongue dragging along his. It takes all your conscious effort not to moan, your body melding itself against his. His arms wrap around you and squeeze you to him, his whimpers turning into a little moan when you gain dominance in the kiss.

You pull away, one of your hands coming back to his jaw to to place a thumb over his open lips. You turn to look back at the bodies laying around the room, most of the members of the fraternity still down here, all of them passed entirely the fuck out. The guy just behind you is snoring up a storm and you can’t help smirking a little when you turn back to face Jungkook. He looks so fucked out already, his eyes glazed and his pupils blown wide as he pants lightly against your thumb. Your smile is both devious and full of fondness as you stare at him.

“You look so good baby, but you have to be quiet for me,” you whisper to him and he does nothing more than open his mouth wider. His tongue snakes out and licks against your thumb, pulling it in and sealing his lips around the appendage. He suckles on it hungrily and gods be damned if your panties aren’t soaked at this point.

“Fuck,” you sigh, squeezing your thighs together. You want him so bad it almost hurts. He pulls away far enough that your thumb pops from his lips and he whimpers once again, pulling you as close as he can.

“Noona, please,” he says, his breath shuddering.

“Please what, baby?”

He grabs one your hands and pulls it down between your bodies, pressing your palm to the bulge in his jeans. Your breathing deepens when you palm the hardness through the thick fabric, wondering how you didn’t notice it before.

“Oh baby,” you coo quietly and rub your hand heavily over his bulge. He bites his lip to hold back the moan threatening to break free and you feel his hips start to rock into your hand. He’s so fucking hot, how have you been able to resist him for so long?

“How long have to been this hard?”

He takes a moment to respond, trying to take deep breaths. Your hand stalls to help him regain some semblance of sanity, but he seems against the idea. His hand returns to gripping yours, pressing your palm back against his hard-on.

“Long time,” he finally gets out in a clipped tone, probably unable to speak properly at this point.

“Poor thing.”

You pull closer to him, pressing your forehead to his and lowering your voice so that you’re barely audible.

“Take your cock out for me, baby. Please.”

He keeps you close and groans into your neck, only taking a moment to collect himself before he’s pushing away, and his hands are flying to undo his pants. He struggles with the button for a moment, but you don’t help him, only leaning back to watch with excitement. When he finally gets them undone he’s tugging them down just enough so he can freely pull is cock out and gods is it beautiful. Your mouth waters as soon as he has it out, its pink color and red head making you want to feel the weight of it on your tongue. It’s not particularly long, but it’s thicker than you thought it would be and the precum that glistens on his tip calls out to you. You let out a heavy breath when his hands hover just shy of his shaft, trembling and aching to give the poor weeping thing some relief. Still he hesitates to touch himself.

Such a good boy.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you practically wheeze out, finding it hard to breathe when your twitching hand finally reaches out for him. He’s whimpering before you even touch him and you have to remind him to be quiet when the tip of your finger goes to touch the head.

“Remember, baby, keep it down.”

He nods a little shakily and just as you press into the precum on his tip with your finger, his hands are flying up to cover his mouth. He’s so sensitive and you love it.

“Well, you’re certainly aching there aren’t you? Does it feel good to have me touch you?”

Again he nods and you pout, swirling your finger in the sticky fluid at his tip. His eyes clench shut at the sensation and he deftly thrusts his hips up to meet more of your hand.

“Use your words or I’ll have to stop.”

“Yes,” he whispers out harshly, his hands clenching into fists at his stomach, “… yes, yes, yes, yes!”

You smirk, the high you’re getting from all of this driving you to carry on.

“Good boy.”

You continue to swirl your finger over his tip a few more times, widening your circle until you’re sliding your finger down the top of his length, all the way to the base. He pants a little too heavily, his eyes glued to your hand and what you’re doing to him. You circle around his base to the bottom of his cock before dragging your finger back up and rubbing it deftly over the slit a few times.

“Fuck noona-“

“Language, Jungkookie.” You say with a smirk, your hand finally flattening over the underside of his length so you can palm him a few times. His hips rock against his will and meet you half way every time you press down on him. He looks so pretty like this, his eyes nearly black and so focused on how your palm drags over his length. He’s sweating a little, panting a lot and his gorgeous cock is ready to explode at any second. And you’ve barely even done anything to him yet.

“What made you so hard and needy like this?”

He stays silent for a long moment, only answering when the pressure of your hand lightens and you begin to pull away.

“You… you made me like this. You always… make me like this.”

Always?

“Fuck, Kookie, if you had told me sooner we might’ve actually got it in tonight.”

His eyes are glistening at this point as they shoot up to glance at you before scrunching shut when your fingers finally wrap around his shaft. You pump him slowly, but his hips make up for that and keep the sliding of his cock in and out of your hand at a steady pace.

“I wanted to. Fuck I wanted to, but…”

“But?”

He pants a few times, focused more on chasing his high. Your grip on his cock tightens to the point that he’s forced to stop thrusting, only allowing him to continue when he answers.

“I-I was scared. And you were being so cautious with me-“

“Of course I was! I didn’t want to scare you away. I worked too hard for you, I wasn’t going to mess that up by being too greedy.”

His hips stutter and then pause, his eyes opening to look at you. His face is flush, you can tell even in the dark, and his hair is starting to stick to his face. Still he looks like the sexiest, most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Why?”

“What?” You ask, not prepared to be questioned back like this.

“Why did you put so much effort into me. You could’ve easily slept with one of the other guys. Yoongi’s always had the hots for you. So has Tae. Why me?”

You take a long moment to mull over your answer, your other hand coming up to push some of his sweaty hair out of his face. When you get some clear, you lean in to kiss him a little more gently this time. Though it isn’t any less heated, it’s more of a deep sensual kiss than one of hunger and lust. When you pull away, you look him in the eyes when you answer.

“The same reason anyone chooses anyone else. You’re the one I wanted, Kookie. I would’ve put in a hundred years of work if I had to.”

His eyes are wide with adoration and awe, but the moment can’t last forever. His cock twitching in your hand reminds you of what is happening and you squeeze it gently before going back to pumping him. He gasps quietly at the sensation, his eyes falling closed and his body slowly starting to roll backwards. You move with him, pressing your body into his side when he’s finally laying flat on his back. His hands are clenching and unclenching against his stomach, desperate for some kind of anchor. A thought pings into your mind while you watch him grasp sporadically at his shirt, releasing his cock and pushing both his hands and the shirt up his abdomen. He whines at the loss of contact, lifting his head to see why you’d stopped stroking him only for his eyes to go wide. He looks a bit panicked, his gaze darting around to the half dead bodies around you two. You could so easily be caught, but most of the occupants of the house were completely wasted and would likely never remember this even if they did see it.

You slide down his body quietly, stealthily, like a cat taunting its prey into the shadows. Your eyes catch his and they hold him, their mischief so palpable that it makes Jungkook’s mouth go dry and his cock pulsate so fiercely it taps against his stomach. Your one hand trails down his side lightly, nails tickling his hip and thigh so that he’s shuddering beneath you. He reaches for you, one hand cupping your cheek- wants to tell you to stop, but his throat is so dry he can’t even whisper. Or perhaps he’s lying to himself and doesn’t want you to stop at all. When you quirk an eyebrow in question and you feel the object of your desire tap against your throat with another needy pulse, you know the answer is no, he doesn’t want you to stop.

A trembling whisper of your name leaves his lips and you can only smirk, tilting your head down to kiss just above his navel and then to one side of it. Down, down, further you trail, your kisses getting sloppier as you descend closer to your target. Your tongue and teeth leave wet, rosy patches as you go and you can feel his muscles quivering every time you touch him until finally the desperately red tip of his cock is right in front of you. He whimpers beneath you and you shush him gently, unable to tear your eyes away from the way it pulses and twitches up towards you.

“Please,” he finally lets out, sounding much like he’s on the verge of tears. You smirk again and glance up at him through your lashes.

“Please what, baby?”

He huffs cutely, his other hand cupping the other side of your face and his thumbs smoothing along your cheekbones like he’s so desperate to just pull you into his cock, but doesn’t want to be too demanding. You smile a bit more when his look gets more and more frantic, one of your arms reaching up to rub his chest under his shirt soothingly.

“Relax, my sweet star. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“P-please…”

“Go on, baby. I know you want it, just tell me.”

“Please, I want your mouth,” he finally shutters out, but you can’t help yourself and push just a bit more.

“What do you want from my mouth?”

He huffs again and looks away, searching the room to make sure everyone there is truly oblivious.

“I-I want…”

“Want?”

“Please, noona, ravage me with your mouth.”

He looks you directly in the eyes as he finishes and the glee that soars through you practically makes you light headed. You grin broadly at him and bite your lip.

“I’ll give you anything you want, bunny. You just have to ask.”

Before he can really bask in your words you focus back on his cock, the hand that had been trying to soothe him shooting down to wrap gently round his base and lead his head to your waiting tongue. His breath shudders out and his mouth opens to let out a rush of air. The precum leaking from his tip covers your tongue in salt, but you don’t mind, all too desperate to feel the full weight of him at the back of your throat. Still you take your time, only licking at his slit to tease him, another droplet of precum oozing out every time to you do.

He’s panting while he watches you, his hands trembling on your face until one shakily weaves into your hair at the crown of your head. He doesn’t grip or pull, doesn’t try to shove more of his cock into your mouth which is what you’re used to. No, he’s too gentle and sweet to force anything. He only wants and lets you lead the way. When you finally wrap you lips around his tip he can’t hold back the noise, his head falling back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and what he hopes is a quiet moan leaving him. And you can only smirk at the sound, the subtle shudder in his voice making you even more wet and your stomach clench with desire.

You take the time to generously wet the head of his cock, delighting in its twitches while you swirl your tongue around him. When you pop him from your lips the poor thing looks pathetic, practically weeping in your fingers and you feel all too obliged to take him back in. Only this time you take him all in, or at least as much as you can. You suck him all the way to the back of your throat, moaning quietly around his shaft so he can feel the vibrations. And oh does it make him make the most wonderful of sounds. A surprised cry and the slapping of a hand over his mouth (the one that was lightly stroking his fingers along your cheek) has you trying to smile around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-…”

He lets the mantra trail off quietly, his body arched so you can’t see his face anymore. And as much as you adore the sight of him losing control, you’d much rather see the pleasure on said face. You suck harshly and pull off him, letting him once again pop from your lips. You take care to pump him slowly while you speak, you spit slicking his cock enough that there’s little friction.

“Look at me baby.”

It takes him a few moments, but you wait patiently until he realizes you gave him an order and he follows through. He looks a little lost when he finally locks eyes with you, his gaze a little wild like he can’t really see you at first.

“Noona?”

“Are you with me, sweetheart?”

He looks confused, but nods all the same, probably ready to agree to anything at this point.

“Listen carefully, baby. I want you to look at me the whole time. Don’t you dare look away or I’ll stop, okay? Eyes on me.”

He nods deftly, afraid he won’t be able to fulfill your request, but eagerly wanting to please you.

“Good boy.”

You don’t give him any time to prepare himself and suck him back in as far as he’ll go. He wheezes and squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment, quickly remembering your order and opening them back up to focus on you again. You smirk around his cock to let him know you approve and focus back on your task. When you can’t push him any further down your throat you opt to bob your head, one hand stroking what you can’t swallow and the other massaging his balls. You look up every few seconds to make sure he’s still watching and only have to stop once to make him look at your again. The sloppier his cock and your mouth gets the more he shakes and shudders beneath you, the hand in your hair trembling like a leaf in the wind. He keeps his other hand up by his face, ready to cover his mouth every time he can’t hold back a whimper or moan.

It doesn’t take long, only a few minutes and he’s desperately pleading to you, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I-“

You push him in as far as you can take and swallow around him just once before he’s shooting his load down your throat. Tears form in his eyes when he squeezes them shut and you can’t fault him when his head falls back onto the mattress. He did such a good job of watching you, you’ll let him have this one. When the last of his cum is swallowed down, you take care to gently clean what you can off his cock with your tongue. He shakes and gasps beneath you as you do, his head shaking back and forth as if to say he can’t take anymore. You pop off him one last time and kiss his tip softly, grinning when he finally cracks his eyes open to look at you.

He looks madly in love while he stares at you and it makes you somewhat nervous to see such intense emotion in his eyes. You lift yourself and crawl back up his body, pausing to help him pull his pants back up and his shirt back down. You hush him when he tries to button and zip everything back up, pushing his weak and tired hands away.

“No one will notice, just rest baby.”

“Well that was hot.”

You freeze over him, Jungkook’s body going rigid and his eyes widening with fear. You both look over your shoulder and spot Yoongi a small ways away from the foot of your mattress, laying on his side with his head propped up in one hand. He’s smirking at the two of you and while Jungkook looks mortified, you only feel proud. Now someone has witness that Jungkook is yours and no one else can have him.

“Hyung,” he whispers harshly, both his hands coming up to cover his face. You smile fondly at your boy before looking back to Yoongi.

“Well if you’re good and keep this to yourself, maybe next time you can join us.”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow and grins excitedly, Jungkook letting out a panicked noise when you settle in beside him. He whispers to you quietly as if he doesn’t want Yoongi to hear and you only shush him gently to calm him.

“Lay down and rest, bunny. Don’t worry about him, he’ll keep quiet.”

“But-“

“Shh, sleep.”

You run your fingers through his hair until he finally settles down, turning so that he can wrap himself around you and tuck his head under your chin. You chuckle lovingly and continue to pet him, using your free hand to flip Yoongi off when he makes lewd gestures at you in the dark.

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ariadne-does-her-best · 3 years

Text

Sparks Dancing Across Your Skin

Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot; Soulmate!Au

Word Count: 5,000+

Warnings: Mentions of death, gets very angsty but ends with a happy ending :)

Author's Note: Hey guys! I just wanted to let you know that I’m trying to post once every two weeks on Sunday but its very difficult for me right now. I just started college this week so I haven't been very active on any of my socials because of my orientation schedule. Originally, this was going to be around the same length as the Dick one-shot but when I finished writing it, it didn’t feel complete so I may go back and turn this into a series. I’m not very satisfied with this but I did want to try and post regularly. Please let me know how you like this and if you would be willing to read a series with a similar plot. Thank you, Ariadne.

Summary: As someone with a busy schedule, you never really thought of who could be your soulmate. Rather you didn’t have the time. But lucky for you, it’s your friend. Unluckily for you, he’s a vigilante and you don’t even know his secret identity.

You sighed as you packed up your belongings. You never meant to stay late but here you were, sitting in Mrs. Jones’s classroom, and if the clock was correct, Mrs. Jones herself had left more than two hours ago.

The class committee meetings weren’t supposed to take so long but that was only if the president, vice president, and secretary were all sharing the workload. As president, you had to pick up all of the slack that your friends left you. But you didn’t mind since you understood that they also have a life outside of school.

As you left the classroom, you made sure the door was locked on the inside before checking your phone. You only had one text and it was from your mother, telling you that she had to jet over to Paris to meet with an investor and that your father had gone to South Korea to look at some sort of textile for her. She ended the text by saying that she loves you and that she’ll try to be back in a week.

You stuffed your phone back into your pocket, turning the corner of the hallway towards the main entrance. You had parked your car in the back of the parking lot, something that you had started to regret once you saw how deserted the school really was. Remembering the fact that most people were kidnapped in parking lots, albeit grocery store parking lots, they were still parking lots at the end of the day. You sped up when you saw your car and yanked the door open before locking it after sitting inside. When you turned around to put your seatbelt on, you let out a scream when you saw that someone was in your backseat.

“Calm down, it's just me,” the boy said in the back, his red domino mask doing nothing to mask the laughter threatening to spill out of his mouth.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stared at the boy who was laying on your backseat. Robin was organizing the items in your car, putting them into two piles. You watched him as he pulled out a piece of gum and popped a bubble. You smiled as you shook your head before coughing as you turned your car on, effectively grabbing his attention.

“You wanna go to the diner and tell me why you’re not with the Bat tonight?”

At that he pursed his lips, a small smile threatening to spill over.

“I dunno if I should…”

“I’ll pay.”

“Deal.”

*****

When you had first met Robin, it was after he had tried to help you escape from a mugger. Instead of cowering like he had expected you to, you had just grabbed the man's arm, twisting it as far back as you could without breaking it, and kicked him down. Robin had swooped down, laughing as he handcuffed the man and complimented you on your punch. You both were waiting for the GCPD when your stomach grumbled and you offered to treat him to some waffles at the diner across the street since it had started snowing. After that, you both kept meeting up frequently at night, him on patrol and you going home after finishing whatever official school-related event you had.

And soon enough, those nights all added up to you and Robin meeting up frequently to eat at the same diner from the first time you had met. You liked your friendship with Robin. Even though you had no idea who he was under the mask, you felt comfortable with him, like he was your rock to help keep you grounded.

As you sat there and watched him fiddle with the menu, you resisted the urge to grab his hands and instead looked down at your own hands. You started picking at the skin on one of your still healing scabs from where a cat from the animal shelter you volunteered at had scratched you.

“You should stop that,” Robin was looking at you, his bottom lip stuck out slightly in what you recognized as worry.

“You’re my distraction,” you waved your hand at him, “so go on, distract me.”

“What do you want me to talk about,” he asked as he leaned back, letting Linda, the waitress, put your regular orders down on the table. After a chorus of ‘thank you’s, you sipped your hot chocolate and contemplated on what to ask him. There was so much you didn’t know about Robin, such as his identity, but you didn’t want to scare him away.

“What do you want to be when you grow up?”.

“Maybe a librarian,” he said after a long pause. You smiled at that and started stuffing your face with your hashbrowns, watching as Robin finished chewing his food.

“What about you, what do you want to be?”

You sat there, thinking. You never really knew what you wanted to be. Every year, you would have a new dream job but it never felt right to you. You just shrugged before turning the topic to books and different book recommendations, watching his eyes light up at the mention of literature.

“You should read Le Petit Prince,” you said as you both stood outside on the chilly November night. You had talked about different works by Shakespeare and had only started heading outside once Linda told you that it was ten. It was snowing slightly and Robin looked breathtaking with the white snow in his dark hair, his red mask creating a sharp contrast against the fairness of his skin.

“Only if you read it to me,” he said before grappling to the top of the veterinarian's office near the diner. You slowly walked to your car and turned it on. Robin was still sitting on the top of the building and as you pulled out of the parking lot, you waved goodbye to him before heading home, rolling your eyes with a smile when you realized that he was following you by running across the roofs of the buildings.

*****

“Hello, I’m (Y/N) (L/N), your tutor here at the Student Center. And you are?”

“Jason Todd,” the boy said, nodding at you as he pulled out his chair and sat down. You smiled at him and wrote his name down on the form you were given. You asked him basic questions about his grade, what class the assignment he wanted to go over was from, and what his reason was for visiting the center.

“All right, so it looks like Mr. Mijia wanted you to come in here and just have someone review your essay for you. Is he doing the extra credit padding before final exams again?”

Jason nodded his head and you marked the according box.

“Alright, the first thing I’m going to have you do is pull up an electronic copy and pass the hard copy to me. Then we’ll have you read it aloud so we can catch any grammatical errors.”

Jason nodded again before clearing his throat and reading his paper off of his screen, stumbling over the wording of his essay only twice. You were impressed, his style of writing was advanced, with him connecting his ideas throughout the whole essay.

“As time progresses, it is imperative to look--”

“Hey bestie,” you sighed when you heard the grating voice of Elsie Lager. You gave Jason an apologetic look before forcing a smile on your face as you faced Elsie.

“Hi Els, what are you doing here,” you asked, taking note of the way her eyes flitted over Jason, before landing on you.

“I’m just here to give you these,” she said, holding out a thick manilla folder. “Mrs. Jones said that we have to read through all of these proposals for the Spring Fling and Jackson and I thought that you could do it since you are the president. And because your mom is the famous torchbearer in today’s fashion world. It’ll just be soooo easy for you.”

You resisted the urge to smack Elsie with the manilla folder, aware of the fact that if you did that there was a witness, and instead took it from her hands before flipping through it. Great, there were over fifty concepts and designs to choose from. Taking out your planner, you wrote down ‘choose Spring Fling concept’ between your Taekwondo lesson and your animal fashion show at the shelter.

“I have that down, anything else I can do for you Elsie,” you asked with a strained smile. The brunette stood there, twisting a piece of hair around her pointer finger before smacking her forehead.

“OMG, I totally forgot! Callisto Barsotti told me that you should keep your ears open for an invite to one of his parties. I’ve gotta go now but you just have to tell me how you got Callisto to notice you, you lucky bitch.”

You watched as Elsie left the library, blowing a kiss towards you, in a blur of white. Sighing, you turned back around to Jason.

“I’m so sorry about the interruption. Why don’t you continue reading from where you were interrupted.”

“She’s a bitch,” Jason said. Your eyes widened in surprise and you watched as he leaned towards you, resting his face on his hand. “Why are you friends with people that take advantage of you like that?”

You sucked in your breath, keeping your face impassive as you stared down at him.

“You have no idea what my life is like Jason Todd,” you said evenly, setting the manilla folder to the side. “And because you don’t know me, why don’t we talk about something we do have some knowledge about: your essay.”

Jason just sighed before he started packing his items up, tugging the hard copy of his essay out from under your hands.

“You and I both know that I don’t need help with my essay. But if you ever need help, let me know,” and with a familiar wave, he left you sitting in the library, confused about how you had gotten his attention when you both weren’t even in the same grade.

*****

You scanned the room as you tugged your jacket around you. You normally didn’t attend parties, especially those that you knew involved alcohol, but your mother had pushed you to go after being nagged by Elsie’s mother by her daughter’s lack of invitation. And speaking of Elsie, she had left you alone as soon as she had entered the house. Which sucked since she had insisted on driving in her new Mercedes.

As you walked around the living room, making small talk with the people who greeted you, you couldn’t help but think about what Jason Todd had told you. It frustrated you that he took up so much space in your head, that he was all that you could think of since that day in the library.

He didn’t know anything about your life. While he had grown up on the streets, you had grown up with a silver spoon in your mouth, never having to worry about anything.

‘But you do worry,’ the small voice in your head said, sounding very similar to Robin. You needed a drink.

You were searching the coolers for a bottle of water when a heavy arm wrapped around your shoulders causing you to flinch and elbow them in the stomach.

“Ow, what was that for,” the person asked, slurring their words slightly. You looked up and sighed when you saw it was the host of the party, Callisto Barsotti. He smiled at you and rubbed at his stomach before holding his arms out, “I’ll let you go if you give me a hug,” he said, enunciating his words with grabby motions.

Normally, you would be on your best behavior, helping whoever was drunk by getting them water and calling their friends, but you were pissed. You didn’t want to be at this party, instead, your mother had forced you to go after Mrs. Lager had bitched to your mom about her precious Elsie not being invited. And to make matters worse, you were tired. So tired.

You were tired of your mother, for filling up your schedule with things you had no interest in, such as modeling gigs and piano lessons. Your father for never being there. Elsie for complaining to her mom and Callisto for inviting you to his stupid party. Jason Todd for being in your head for over a month. Robin for not reaching out in weeks. But mostly at yourself. You were upset at yourself for quietly taking all of this and then loading yourself up with more so you could be the perfect doll for your mother to brag about raising.

So when Callisto tried to grab you and hug you, you kneed him in the groin before deciding to walk home. Ignoring his cries and the looks you got from others at the party, you ran out of the house, only pausing to take a breath once you exited the gated property. You didn’t know where you wanted to go so you let your legs decide on what direction to walk.

Walking around anywhere in the middle of the night was not a great idea. But walking around Gotham in the middle of the night was one of the worst ideas anyone could have. Looking back at it, your night could have gotten worse, like you being kidnapped by a c-grade villain or something.

Instead, you ended up running into Robin. He didn’t look surprised to see you and instead gave you a small smile.

“So, do you wanna go to the diner,” he asked, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“No,” you snapped, “Leave me the fuck alone birdbrain.” You pushed past him, a look of surprise etched on his face.

“(Y/N)! Wait!”

You ignored his calls and instead sped up, aware of the fact that he was catching up to you. At this point, you were walking near the actual city parts of Gotham so maybe you could get a cab to drop you off at your mother’s apartment near the business sector.

At that thought, you broke into a run, sprinting down the street before calling a cab, hyper-aware of the fact that Robin was staring at you with a look of hurt and confusion on his face.

*****

You felt bad for how you treated Robin. He didn’t deserve your cold shoulder and you certainly didn’t deserve him. With his witty jokes and the way he always followed you to make sure you got home alright, you had realized yesterday in the cab, watching the red and yellow of his costume jump by on the roof, that you didn’t deserve him.

You threw yourself back into your different activities and soon, you didn’t even have enough time to even think about what you were going to eat for dinner.

As you exited the school building, you walked slowly towards your car, being careful not to slip on the ice on the ground as you rounded the corner.

But you felt someone grab your wrist, making you scream and fall. The person cursed as they tried to pull you up but you slid as far away as you could from them so you could see their face. It was Callisto Barsotti.

“What the fuck,” you yelled, trying to yank your wrist out of his iron-like grip. When that didn’t work you got ready to elbow him but he twisted your other arm behind you, causing you to scream.

“Not today you bastard,” he growled as he started to drag you. You screamed and tugged against him, and when he turned towards you, you stopped pulling against him and stomped on his foot, making sure to drag your snow boots against the skin on his shin.

Callisto let out a cry of pain and you pushed him away from you, letting yourself fall to the ground out of shock.

“You little gremlin,” Callisto stuttered out as he started limping towards you. You panicked as you tried to find something heavy to hit him with. A rock or anything would do. But you couldn’t find anything so you got up on trembling legs to run towards your car.

But you didn’t have to worry as a figure in red and yellow dropped by and wacked Callisto in the back of the head. Your eyes widened as Robin took this moment to start kicking the fallen boy. You don’t know how long you stared at him, but you snapped out of your daze once you started hearing cracking noises.

“Stop! Robin, please stop,” you cried desperately. But he didn’t stop, he continued to beat Callisto.

“Please stop,” you cried, whimpering as you knelt down near Robin. When he didn’t listen to you again, you leaned forward and grabbed his face, turning it towards you. You were going to tell him to stop again but you then felt a warm sensation, different from the coldness from the March air, followed by the feeling of a shock. Your soulmate, Robin was your soulmate.

He stared at you in shock, allowing you to pull him off of Callisto. You pushed him towards your car, and he stumbled since he was still staring at you as a look of understanding passed on his face.

“Look,” you said, inspecting the blood on Robin’s costume, “you need to listen to what I’m going to say carefully. Go to my car and grab the cleaning wipes from the trunk. Clean yourself off as I call the cops. The story is going to be that you were patrolling the area and heard my screams.”

Robin stared at you, mouth slightly open as he reached to touch you with a bare hand. You let his fingers ghost against your skin, the shock from before still present as you pulled back to stare at him.

“Go.”

*****

It's been over five hours since Robin beat Callisto. Not half to death like you had expected but still pretty bad since he had a broken nose, arm, and bruised ribs. As you waited in the police station for your parents to pick you up (“The gang that you described could always come back for you,” the officer had said), you could only think about how scary it was, watching Robin hit someone so many times with so much anger in him. In the end, your parents didn’t come and instead, your older brother had driven all the way from Metropolis to pick you up.

You both didn’t talk to each other during the ride back to your house but you could tell he was worried by the way his eyes would flicker to you. When you reached the gates to your house, your brother had parked the car and turned to look at you.

‘(Y/N), I have no idea what's going on with you right now but if you ever feel overwhelmed or alone, just tell me and I’ll take you with me back to Gran’s in Metropolis.”

You smiled at him, eyes tired but filled with a small spark as you exited his car, making sure to express your thanks with a kiss on his cheek. As you entered your house, you took off your shoes and slipped on your home slippers before going to your room and taking a shower. Drying your hair, you walked towards your windows to close your curtains, letting out a slight scream when you saw a hand pressed against the glass.

You sighed when you saw it was Robin and opened your window, letting him come inside to your room. He looked around your room, studying the many medals and certificates you had accumulated from the years along with the magazines you had in your room, before turning towards you.

“Hey,” you said, walking to him slowly. Robin licked his lips slightly as he stared at you before coughing.

“Can I please touch you,” he asked, his voice breaking slightly. You nodded and watched as he took off his right glove before caressing your cheek with his hand. You watched as he smiled when he felt the same spark from before, a breathless laugh escaping his lips as he took off his left glove so he could hold you with both hands. You shivered as his thumb ghosted over your bottom lip, eyes closing before snapping open when you couldn’t feel the warmth from Robin’s hands.

“Don’t freak out,” he whispered in your ear, “I’m just going to close the window and then dry your hair for you. Just go and sit down and I’ll be right there.”

You nodded and sat down at the chair in front of your vanity, watching as he closed your window and pulled the curtains before grabbing your towel. You smiled as you watched him in the mirror, massaging your head with your hands before wrapping your towel around your scalp.

“How come you never asked me what my name was,” Robin asked as he brushed through your hair.

“You’ll tell me when the time is right.”

*****

“I should’ve asked him what his name was,” you thought as you walked near an alley, waiting for a sign of Batman so you could ask him what happened to your soulmate.

A couple of months had passed since you had last seen Robin in April. He had looked angry when you both had met up at the diner and he had further worried you when he ignored the ringing of his phone. As soon as he had seen that you were tucked into bed, he had given you a peck on the forehead before leaving through your window.

You were worried for him. Dressing up as a traffic light every night was dangerous, no matter how much you loved going out there and beating up criminals. So you had been following Batman for months, trying to find a moment to ask him what happened to your soulmate. But you never had the opportunity since he always managed to lose you by either disappearing or by just leading you into a dead end.

Months of following Batman has helped you as you were now familiar with the rooftops of Gotham, like the roof of the veterinarian’s office near the diner you and Robin used to meet up at. Sitting with binoculars, you let out a small gasp when you saw a familiar flash of red and yellow, watching as it ran across a rooftop. Scrambling, you started following the figure, zigzagging around multiple large gaps that you couldn’t jump before cursing when you realized that he was gone.

“Why are you following me,” an unfamiliar voice asked behind you. You turned around and assessed the boy, taking note of the fact that he was taller than your Robin and didn’t seem to have the same half-smile-half-smirk that he did. But the only way to confirm, for your brain to tell your heart to stop searching would be direct contact.

“I can’t find someone,” you started, voice shaky as your eyes filled with tears. The boy’s mouth twisted in a slight frown but he still let you continue.

“I just need to check that you’re not my Robin. Please, let me just hold your hand briefly or something. I just need to know.”

At this point, you were crying. When he hadn’t returned the next day, you had started to panic, wondering if he had really left you and gone somewhere else. But that night, you had started out of your bed, wondering what had woken you up when you felt a hollowness inside of you.

The boy patted your shoulder sympathetically before offering his hand to you. Sniffling, you pulled his glove down slightly so his wrist was showing and touched it.

There were no sparks, no warmth, as you collapsed on the rooftop and cried.

Your Robin was no more.

*****

You smiled as you entered the diner, waving at Linda before taking the booth that you and Robin used to eat at. Six years had passed since you had learned that he was no more and even though it was hard most of the time, you always moved forward. You had graduated high school and gone forward to become a librarian, your choice mostly influenced by your late soulmate.

As you waited for Linda to bring out your regular order, you looked around the diner, recognizing everyone except for a man wearing a red sweatshirt. He was staring down at his phone but was now looking up at you when he felt your stare. You flushed slightly and gave him a wave before looking out of the window.

When Linda came out with your packed regular, you left after giving her a large tip. You had to go back to work.

*****

When Jason came back to life, he knew something was wrong.

After finding out that you were his soulmate, he felt this familiar warmth inside of him, similar to the feeling from when Bruce had first made him Robin. But after the pit, that feeling was multiplied tenfold, to the point that it felt like he was being burned from the inside out. And then the random sparks started.

The first time was when he was with Talia. It had been months since she had started training him, helping him remember a bit of who he was beforehand. When she grabbed his wrist, he felt a spark. It wasn’t the same familiar, welcomed spark with you but it was still a spark. He had brushed it off as static electricity, especially since Talia didn’t seem to have noticed.

But the sparks continued. He felt it frequently when people would hold him, touch him, brush against him. It was an annoyance at that point. A reminder that something was wrong with him, especially since he knew that you were his soulmate and that the others seemed to have not noticed the sparks.

So when Jason saw you walking home one night, he couldn’t help but follow you to make sure you got back safe, just like in the old days. Except for the fact that it’s not like the old days and he was malfunctioning. He was too scared to meet you; he was terrified of the idea that he might touch you and that there would be no spark anymore.

Jason had decided to only follow you home and keep you safe from the shadows, to never interact with you directly. So why exactly was he bleeding on your couch?

He watched as you helped him out of his leather jacket, eyes following your movements to the best of his abilities. He then watched as you pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting the area he was shot.

Your eyebrows were furrowed and Jason couldn’t help but want to reach out and smooth them. Instead, he settled for helping you by peeling the square of his cut shirt away as you prepared the gauze to apply pressure.

His head was spinning and his breathing sounded labored even to his own ears but Jason didn’t want to take off his helmet in fear that you would recognize him from the red domino. But you seemed to have other plans as you reached your hands towards his head, still applying pressure to his wound with your knee.

He tried to avoid your hands but it was difficult to do when his head started to spin. He just watched as your hands reached out towards his helmet and opened it.

A small, selfish part of him wanted you to pull off the helmet and accept him, regardless of whether or not the spark was still there. But from the two years that he had known you, he knew that you’d accept him as Robin, but he wasn’t sure that you’d accept him as Red Hood.

Jason watched as your eyes widened at the sight of his red domino but you didn’t go as far as to peel it off. Instead, you turned your attention back to his wound, gathering more gauze to apply pressure.

As he lost consciousness, he watched as your concerned face entered his vision. And then he felt the fated spark, and all he could think about was how right it felt.

*****

When Jason woke up, he was surprised. By multiple things. For one, you hadn’t called the cops on him. The second thing being the fact that he was, in fact, fine and not dead: he had checked by pinching himself. The third was that his domino was still on his face. And the last being that he could hear your voice clearly, it was distinct, like music against his ears.

He listened as you spoke, not understanding what you were saying but knowing that you were reading Le Petit Prince. After all, one of the first things he did after coming back from the pit was listening to the audiobook, imagining what you would sound like.

He heard the page flip and decided that now would be a good time to open his eyes and sit up.

His sudden movement startled you. You both stared at each other before Jason croaked out a ‘hi’. He watched as your eyes filled with tears as you hugged Jason gently like he was the most delicate, expensive thing in the world.

“I missed you (Y/N),” Jason whispered against your shoulder, feeling the tears form in his eyes as he pulled back.

Your eyes flitted down to his wound with a concerned look but he tilted your head up, towards his face as he pulled the domino off.

He saw a look of recognition in your eyes, knowing for sure that they recognized him when you whispered ‘Jason Todd.’

He nodded, watching as you slowly extended your hands towards his face, caressing it as you skimmed your thumbs over his cheekbones.

“I’m a terrible person,” Jason whispered, looking down into his lap. You simply lifted his face, shaking your head.

“You’re not a terrible person Jason. You were a hero back when you were Robin and you’re a hero as the Red Hood. You’ve always been one. Now lie back down before you pull your stitches and tell me what you’ve been up to.”

Jason smiled as he laid his head across your lap, smiling as the sparks now seemed to dance across his skin in joy, happy that he was finally home.

#robin #red hood #robin jason #robin jason todd #jason todd #jason todd oneshot #jason todd x reader #jason todd x reader imagines #jason todd x reader imagine #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd imagine #dc imagine #dc imagines #ariadne writes #ariadne does her best to write

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thefactsofthematter · 3 years

Note

hi bestie <3 you said send in some requests, so i'm suggesting:

javid with, "it's not okay! you're not fine!"?

i hope you have a good day !!!

hi bestie <333 i had so much fun with this, i haven't done a short little fic in ages!! here's a 2.7k javid fic - a college au and a classic (emotional) hurt/comfort type deal, heavy on the comfort ;)

"Wanna come for dinner at my parents' house tonight?"

Davey is laying on Jack's couch after his last class of the day, since Jack's apartment is just off campus, and it's a ridiculously convenient place to go nap after a long day of school. He honestly spends more time here than at his own apartment that he shares with his sister, a short train ride away.

"I'd love to," Jack replies, his gaze still glued to his computer screen, "but I totally forgot I have an art history paper due at midnight, analyzing a painting, and I haven't started. It needs to be ten pages, and I don't even have an outline. I'm gonna sit here and write until my eyeballs fall out."

Davey laughs softly.

"That sucks. Do you at least have some research done?"

Jack turns to him with completely dead eyes.

"Not a single academic source."

Davey glances at the clock. Jack has seven hours to pull this off, which is doable, but... intense. It would've been a lot easier to spread it out over a few afternoons, and it'll be a painful squeeze to get ten comprehensible pages of writing done tonight. Jack can write decently fast, but his spelling and grammar are atrocious, so he'll have to factor in editing time too. Davey is not envious of these circumstances in the slightest.

"Shit. Good luck. That sounds awful, but I'm rooting for you. What's your prof's late assignment policy?"

Jack, entirely beaten down, leans forward to rest his forehead on his keyboard.

"He won't accept them past the due date without a good reason... which I don't have. I'm just an idiot and forgot to put it in my planner— thank god Romeo texted me today to ask if I was done."

Davey pushes himself up and walks over to where Jack is sitting at his little dining table, under the constantly-flickering fluorescent bulb. He wraps his arms around Jack's shoulders and kisses the back of his neck.

"You got this. I'll come back here after dinner and bring you leftovers, okay? My mom's gonna be sad you couldn't make it, so she'll totally pack up a plate for you."

"You don't have to come all the way here," Jack sighs. "Your place is closer to your parents, and this is out of your way— you have work in the morning anyways, so you should go home and go to bed. I'll be fine, I'll probably write faster alone anyways."

Davey kisses him again, this time leaning around to plant one on his cheek.

"If you're sure." Jack's plan is probably the smart move, since Davey's shifts at his stupid coffee shop job start ridiculously early, and coming here would mean staying up with Jack until he finishes, probably distracting him. "In that case, I'll see you tomorrow after work, and I'll bring the food then... keep me posted about the paper, text me when you finish. And make sure you eat something."

Jack turns back to look at him with a strained, stressed attempt at a smile.

"For sure. Go have a nice time with your family, and tell everyone I say hi."

"Aba, you're doing it wrong. You have to use your left arm."

It's getting late in the evening, dinner has been eaten, and Les is trying to coordinate the family to make a TikTok with him. It's not exactly going well.

"My left or your left?"

"It doesn't matter, we have the same left!"

Davey has thankfully been placed in the back row, both because he's tall and lanky, and because he's so uncoordinated that Mom used to make you wear one of those leash backpacks as a kid to keep you from wandering into traffic... which is true, but Davey isn't sure why Les even knows about that. He certainly wasn't around yet when that was the case, so he probably heard it from Sarah.

While Les tries once again to explain how this little dance is supposed to work, Davey's phone starts to buzz in his pocket. It's probably a spam call, but he's not particularly invested in the dance lesson so he pulls it out to check.

Incoming call: cowboy babyy 💖🤠

Davey frowns. Jack never calls him. It's always texts or voice memos, since he's got some kind of weird aversion to talking on the phone. If he's calling, it must be important.

"Hi babe," he says, pressing his phone to his ear and walking off to his old bedroom to get some quiet, while Les shouts at him in the background for not taking this seriously. "How's the homework going?"

Jack is quiet for a second too long as Davey toes the door shut.

"...Not great. I'm really frustrated." He pauses and sniffles a little, sounding almost like he's holding back tears. "I don't know why I called you while you're having a good time with your family, though. I shouldn't be bugging you."

"Hey," Davey breathes, "you're not bugging me at all, sweetheart. Is the paper not going well?"

"I just... I'm so bad at writing, and I don't know what I'm talking about, and I have no idea how I'm gonna get this done in time." His voice is shaking, and it's breaking Davey's heart a little. "I'm being dramatic, though. I just need to keep working on it."

Davey sits down on the edge of what's now a guest bed, his old outer space-themed comforter replaced with something more neutral.

"You're not dramatic, it's okay to be upset. Do you want me to come over and help?"

Jack's breath hitches softly, and it confirms that he's almost definitely crying.

"You don't have to, you're busy with your folks. I'm sorry for calling." He shudders a little as he must try to take a deep breath. "It's okay... I'm fine."

Davey sighs, almost exasperated with Jack's self-sacrificial sense of pride. He'll never ask for anything for himself, not wanting anyone to go out of their way for him, even when he seems to be having a panic attack of sorts.

"It's not okay; you're clearly not fine, Jackie," he replies. "We already ate, and I'm not busy. If you want me to come over, I'll be there... do you?"

Jack is quiet for a moment again, taking a deep, shaky breath.

"Yeah. I do."

Davey nods, though Jack can't see him.

"Okay. I want you to take a little break from writing until I get there, alright? Change into your pyjamas and have a glass of water. Try to relax a little."

"Okay... thanks Davey."

The call ends, and Davey rejoins his family while tucking his phone away in his pocket.

"I have to go." He kisses his mother on the head as he walks by. "Thanks for dinner, Ima."

"Is everything okay?" she asks, catching him gently by the elbow before he can get too far.

"Yeah..." he sighs. "Jack's just having a hard time with homework, I'm gonna go help him out."

His father ruffles his hair and gives him a quick hug.

"You're a good boy, David. Take him those leftovers— your mother's cooking can fix anything."

"For sure. I'll see you guys next weekend, and I'll try to bring Jack along then."

He waves goodbye to Sarah and Les, grabs the dish of food, and then sets off on a speed-walk to the nearest subway station.

Jack is sitting on the couch when he arrives, his knees pulled to his chest, looking very soft and cozy in pyjama pants and one of Davey's old hoodies from some baseball tournament. He's staring into space, and he hardly even moves to acknowledge Davey's presence when he walks in.

"Hey darling." Davey leaves the dish of food on the counter and crouches down in front of Jack to try and catch his eye-line. He carefully takes Jack's hands in his own. "Hanging in there?"

Jack finally looks at him and nods, but as he blinks, more tears slip out and roll down his cheeks.

"I'm only done two pages," he mumbles, practically whispering. "I don't know why it's so hard, but I just can't do it."

"Oh, Jackie..." Davey reaches up to wipe Jack's tears, cupping his face gently with both hands. "Hey, you still have three hours, right?" Jack nods. "That's lots of time. We're gonna figure this out... let's just sit here and calm down a little first. It's gonna be okay."

He climbs up onto the couch to pull Jack into a hug, and the moment he's settled, Jack wraps his arms around him and breaks, sobbing into his shoulder. Davey cards his fingers through his hair and rubs his back; he's never seen Jack this distraught, especially not over homework. There's a good chance the problem runs a lot deeper, and stressing over an assignment was simply the last straw.

"You're alright," Davey continues, since talking is what he does best, even in moments like this. Jack is shaking with the force of his tears, breathing so hard Davey worries he might hyperventilate. "Listen, it's just one assignment, my love... if you get a bad grade, or if we don't finish in time, we can deal with that. We'll hand in whatever we finish tonight, so at least you won't get a zero. Worst case scenario, you retake this class in the spring... even that doesn't sound so bad, does it? I know you could handle it, if that's what happens."

Jack nods a little, but his tears don't stop.

"I'm so tired of being stupid," he hiccups, after a long while. "I keep getting distracted, and I can't word things right, and I spell everything wrong, and- and maybe I should just drop out, because I'm clearly not meant to be doing this."

"Baby..." Davey sighs, giving him a gentle kiss on the temple. "You're so intelligent, Jack. You're almost done your degree— after this term, you've only got one year left, and it's not like you do poorly in your classes, is it? Even when it's something hard for you, like writing, you always do well when you put in the work. What did you get on your sociology paper a couple weeks ago?"

"Ninety percent," Jack mumbles, muffled by the way he's speaking into Davey's shoulder. "But I spent so long on it, and you edited it for me. I'm gonna fail this one. I can't do it in one night, and I can't write papers without your help."

"Well, I'm here to help now, aren't I?" He rests his hand midway through brushing it through Jack's hair and scratches his scalp gently, which makes Jack shiver and laugh quietly through his tears. "Right? And you can write, darling— all I do is fix up the spelling and grammar for you. The ideas and words are all you, just like when you give presentations and knock it out of the park every time. I sure can't do that."

Jack finally looks up at him.

"Yes you can. You get nervous beforehand, but when you do a presentation, it's always really good."

Davey smiles at him, now that they're actually looking at each other.

"It's hard for me, though. Just like writing is for you— but with lots of effort, you're really good at it. See my point?"

Slowly, a small smile spreads across Jack's teary-eyed face, and he nods. Davey feels rather accomplished with this development.

"I guess so." He wipes at his eyes and sighs. "Sorry about this. I'm such a mess."

"No apologies. I don't blame you for getting overwhelmed— you're in a tough spot here." He pulls Jack in for a quick kiss, which they both smile into. "I brought you dinner. Go heat it up when you're ready; I'll look over what you've written so far and see if I can come up with some more ideas to add on. We're gonna work together on it, okay? What painting did you choose?"

"The Martyrdom of Saint Matthew by Caravaggio," Jack sighs, looking almost forlornly at his computer on the table. "I have a lot to say about it, and lots of good stuff in my notes, but I just can't put it into paragraphs and sentences that make sense."

Davey nods, watching Jack as he stands up to go put the leftovers from Davey's family in the microwave.

"Well, I don't know anything about paintings, but if you talk me through it, I can help you put the actual paper together." He pauses as an idea dawns on him. "I'm gonna email your professor and ask about an extension— it might be a shot in the dark, but we should at least try. The worst he can do is say no."

"Sure," Jack replies from the kitchen, his voice still shaky. "He's a total hardass, though. Fingers crossed for a miracle."

Davey sits at the table, opens up Jack's email, and starts a draft.

Hi Professor Diaz,

Apologies for the short notice, but I'm wondering if it would be possible to have an extension on the analysis assignment, even if it's just by a few hours. I unfortunately mixed up some due dates in my planner, and I thought I had an extra week for this assignment; I only realized the mistake today, so I'm currently scrambling to get it done in time.

Would it be at all possible to turn it in a few hours late, just to have a bit more time to finish it up? I would really appreciate any amount of time you're willing to give me.

Thank you in advance for your understanding, Jack Kelly

He shrugs, sends it, and sincerely hopes a little professionalism and a decent (if slightly fabricated to make Jack look less forgetful) excuse will go a long way.

It's quarter to eleven, the paper is now five-and-a-half pages long, and Jack isn't crying anymore. He's in the zone, talking aloud about the painting while Davey helps him get his vague ideas into concrete sentences, and they're on track to have at least seven or eight pages by the time midnight rolls around— it might not get full marks, but it'll be better than nothing.

Jack's computer dings with the sound of a new email while they're taking a two-minute break— something they've interspersed every half hour, since Jack's focus is best in shorter bouts. He's in the middle of walking laps around the apartment to get his energy out and annoy his downstairs neighbours, but he scrambles back to the computer at the noise.

"We got a reply!" he shouts.

Davey is over on the couch, and he watches Jack's face closely as he opens the email. So far, so good... and then he slumps down in his chair in a show of what could either be defeat or relief. Davey can't quite tell, so he jumps up to go read it for himself.

Sure. Email it by 11:59pm tomorrow.

Sent from my iPhone

"Yes!" Davey shouts, grabbing Jack by the shoulders. "I told you it was worth a shot!"

Jack laughs, and then reaches up to pull Davey down for a kiss.

"You're the best, Jacobs. A fucking lifesaver." He rubs at his eyes, and then pushes his computer away, across the table. "I'll deal with this tomorrow. Let's just go to bed— you still have to be up early."

Right. Davey has a dreaded Saturday morning opening shift tomorrow— they open at five, and he has to be there well in advance to get set up, so he's got no chance at getting more than a few hours of sleep. He's going to be dead on his feet in the morning, probably fuck up a few coffee orders, but it'll be worth it to have helped Jack through tonight.

Poor Jack seems completely exhausted— as anyone would be after crying so hard earlier— so collapsing into bed after washing up quickly is an utter relief. Davey, despite being tall and long-limbed, greatly enjoys being the little spoon and Jack is happy to indulge him, so they curl into the familiar position.

"Thank you for everything tonight," Jack whispers, practically into Davey's ear. "I love you so much."

Davey smiles as his eyes fall shut, and he kisses Jack's knuckles softly, where his arm is wrapped around him.

"Any time, darling. I love you too."

#both my current projects are slow burns so an established relationship fic feels good #hope u enjoyed it!!!#javid #jack kelly #davey jacobs #newsies fic #my writing

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hiscyarika · 4 years

Text

Landslide: Chapter Three

Word Count: 7.2k

Summary: Reader revisits the life that she and Javier once shared together. Javier seeks to escape his father’s haunting words.

Warning(s): Angst, Alcohol Use/Drunkenness

A/N: So it’s only been three days since I posted Ch2, but here you go anyways. I put my heart and soul into this chapter, and I just hope that you guys are really able to connect with it and feel something when you read it. It’s a lot of angst, but this is a really important chapter, and a bit of a turning point for Javier and Reader. Thank you all so, so much for the lovely responses that I have gotten for this series. It really means the world to me. I reread the comments all the time because I just can’t believe that you all are enjoying this so much. So from the bottom of my heart, thank you 💙 And a special thank you to both @aerynwrites and @bestintheparsec for reading this chapter over before I published it. The amount of stupid mistakes you guys caught for me is astounding. Thank heavens I’ve got you or this would be some serious clownery 😂❤️ I love you both endlessly!

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Chapter One, Chapter Two

(Gif by @pascvl, originally from this post) Please let me know if you’d rather me not use the gif. I’ll remove it immediately! No questions asked.

You shake your head as your mother brings over another box of old junk to sort through. “Mom, promise me you’ll never hoard things like this again,” you tease, chuckling softly and rolling your eyes. You then take a seat next to her on the floor of the attic, ready to help her sort through the items.

“Now you just listen,” she starts, “Some of this stuff can make us a few bucks in the community yard sale.”

“You’re gonna need your own entire estate sale to get rid of all this,” you reply, pulling out the heavy case at the top of the box. It immediately catches your eye, and you laugh as you realize what it is. “I think everything in here is mine,” you tell her, beginning to unzip the aged leather case.

Your mother searches the surface of the cardboard box, looking up at you again when she finds what she’s looking for. “Ah, yes!,” she confirms, “This is some of the stuff we boxed up after you left for San Antonio, when you were working as a secretary for that law firm.”

You open the case, smiling when you see the old typewriter it holds. Dust covers every inch of the little machine, and you giggle softly as you press down on a few of the keys, causing the strikers to shoot up, though there’s no paper for them to mark. “I remember when I got this. It was the first one I had for myself. Dad was so happy I wasn’t using his all the time.” You zip up the case and set it aside. The task of cleaning things out for the yard sale has been forgotten.

“Oh, yes. He would gripe at me all the time, telling me you needed to quit using all of his paper and ink,” your mother tells you, laughing right along with you. She reaches into the box next, pulling out a rather large photo album. She puts it on the floor between you, and you feel a light blush come to your cheeks as she starts to go through all of the pictures she has from your childhood. You remember well that she always had her camera out. She never wanted to miss the opportunity to capture a memory, no matter how silly it might have seemed in the moment.

The two of you go on that way for some time, flipping through the pages of the album. You listen to her as she tells you the stories behind many of the pictures, from times that you were too young to remember. It’s nice, being able to indulge in more lighthearted nostalgia–certainly a welcome change from the more painful memories that you’ve been forced to relive in the last couple of weeks.

Once you’ve gone through the photo album, you continue to pull random things from the box. More long-forgotten trinkets from your teen and college years. It’s nearly an hour later that you make it to the bottom, where you find one last treasure. It’s a shoebox, though as you lift it, you’re not sure what it contains. It’s only when you bring it closer to you that you can read the words on the lid.

Javier - Mi Corazón

You stare at those three words for what feels like a lifetime. They’re written in your elegant handwriting with a thick black marker. You lightly trace the flourished “J” of his name with your finger. You remember the day you put it all together, and you know already a bit of what you’ll find when you open the box.

Your breath hitches in your throat, and at your silence your mother leans closer. She frowns when she too reads what’s on the box. “Give that here, love. I’ll put it away. I’m sorry. I forgot I packed it away in here with everything else,” she says quickly, her tone soft and sorrowful. But you only tighten your hold on the box as she tries to take it from you.

“No,” you tell her, “I want to look at it.” Logically, you know that you’ll only cause yourself more pain by looking through the memories of what your life used to look like with Javier, but you can’t stop yourself. You’ve spent ten years keeping any memory of him locked away. And now that he’s back, there’s nothing you can do to stop the flood as that once young, hopeful life comes rushing back to you.

“Well,” your mother sighs softly, “if you’re sure.” You can tell that she doesn’t like the idea. Since the day Javier left, she and your father have been a little more detached than you ever were. They’ve never blamed the Peñas or sought to shame them. But where you’ve only grown closer to the family, your parents have drifted apart.

You nod. “I am,” you murmur.

—

The shoebox feels much heavier than it truly is as you step into your apartment with it. After dropping your keys on the coffee table in the living room, you go straight back to your bedroom. You close the door behind you, though you know that there won’t be anyone to walk in on you as you willingly subject yourself to more pain.

You gingerly place the box on your desk, staring at it for a few moments as you second guess yourself. It would be so much easier to tuck it somewhere deep into your closet where you won’t find it again, not unless you really want to. You could bury those memories, ones that should be sweet but have been soured by time and circumstance. You could bury your love. You could bury the painful reminders of the man you would have followed to the ends of the earth.

You sit down in the chair and make your choice.

You open the box.

A soft gasp escapes your lips as you look inside, and immediately you feel your chest swell with an emotion that sits somewhere between nostalgia and regret. You can’t place it exactly. Taking a deep breath, you gently lift the first thing from the box. Dried petals crinkle between your fingers as you hold up your corsage from senior prom.

Your mother laughs softly as she walks over to you and Javier. He’s tried his best, but he just can’t get the ribbon tied around your wrist the right way. You giggle as your mother gently takes over, though as she ties the ribbon, your eyes never stray from Javi’s. You can see a light blush creeping up his neck, and you shake your head minutely. “It’s alright,” you mouth to him.

When your mother finally steps away, Javi takes your hand again, pulling you closer to him so that more pictures can be taken. You both hate the fussing, but know that it’s better to just endure it for the sake of your parents. Your mothers, especially, are excited to see the two of you off to the dance.

“Alright. Alright. That’s enough pestering the two of them. Let them go and enjoy their night,” Chucho finally says, and you let out a soft laugh. You can always trust him to come to the rescue.

“Thanks, Pops,” you say. Javier releases you then, giving you a moment to say a quick goodbye to your parents. Once you’ve given your mother a hug and your father a quick kiss on the cheek, you wave to Javi’s parents, then take his hand again. He leads you over to his father’s truck, which he’d so graciously agreed to let you borrow for the night.

Javi walks over to the passenger side with you, helping you up into the cab and making sure that your dress doesn’t get caught as the door is shut. He joins you inside of the truck shortly after, and you move a little closer to him on the bench seat.

“Sorry I couldn’t get the stupid corsage on,” he says, chuckling softly at himself. He lifts your arm, looking at the ribbon that your mother tied and shaking his head. After a moment though, his eyes meet yours again, his gaze soft. Without breaking eye contact, he brings your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. “You look beautiful tonight, querida,” he murmurs shyly.

You smile softly at him, reaching out to straighten his bow tie. “You’re looking pretty dashing yourself, Javi,” you reply.

He rolls his eyes. “I’m glad you think so. I think this looks ridiculous. There’s a reason I don’t dress like this unless I have to,” he says, though he’s grinning as he speaks.

You press a quick kiss to his lips. “It’s just one night,” you tell him, “Now let’s go before we’re late.”

You let out a soft breath as you think about the rest of that night. The two of you hadn’t spent very long at the dance at all, opting instead to jump back into Chucho’s truck and drive somewhere more quiet. Rather than trying to enjoy yourselves in a dark, sweaty gymnasium filled with your classmates, Javier had driven to the top of a hill not far outside of town. With a perfect view of the softly illuminated town below you, the two of you slow danced for hours to one of the cassette tapes you’d found in the glovebox.

With a mirthless laugh, you wonder if the cassette tape is still there.

Setting the corsage aside, you look back into the box, pulling out a stolen menu from the diner just a couple of blocks from your childhood home. It was a place that you and Javier had frequented, especially during the late hours of the night when you didn’t have anything better to do than drink cheap milkshakes and steal french fries from each other’s plates.

You curse under your breath as Javier foils your plans again, scribbling a quick “X” into the top right corner of the grid, keeping you from winning what was easily the eighth game of tic-tac-toe you’d played in the last twenty minutes. “Damn you, Javi,” you say, tossing the pencil at him, though there’s a grin on your lips as you look across the booth at him.

“Lo siento, querida. But you know you’re not allowed to win,” he replies, catching the pencil against his chest and placing it back on the table. His smile is bright as ever as his eyes meet yours again.

You roll your eyes, picking up the pencil and pulling the menu closer to you. You write out a short note on it, then turn it around so Javi can read it.

You’re a pain in the ass, but I still love you.

Javi lets out a soft laugh, reaching over and taking the pencil from you. He writes something underneath your words, but shields it from your view with his forearm. Only when he’s done does he let you see.

The feeling is mutual, querida. There’s a little heart doodled next to it.

Your expression softens, and you feel your heart swell in your chest. You place both hands on the table, using them to brace yourself as you lean over the table. There’s a knowing look in Javi’s eyes, and he does the same, meeting you in the middle for a tender kiss. “Te quiero tanto, mi corazón,” he murmurs against your lips.

You close your eyes, leaning back further in the chair with the menu held firmly against your chest, close to your heart. A few moments pass where you don’t move, giving yourself some time to compose yourself before you keep going. That hadn’t been the first time he’d called you “mi corazón,” but to hear those words fall from his lips had always caused butterflies to erupt in your stomach. That’s why the same words had been scribed next to his name. He was your heart, too.

Shaking your head to yourself, you sit up again. The next thing you pull out is a dozen or so Polaroid pictures, all with varying dates and locations penned on the back. Most of them had been taken by your mother. She’d always insisted on taking pictures of the two of you whenever she could, and it only got worse after you’d gotten engaged. She’d told you that one day you’d be grateful that so many of these moments were documented. You’d believed her then, though now there’s a part of you that wishes there weren’t so many pictures to remind you of just how deeply integrated into your life that Javier had once been.

There’s one photo, however, that catches your eye as you flip through the small stack. Unlike the others, which are more staged, this one is candid. You’re standing in Javier’s dorm room at Texas A&I, and you immediately recognize it as the day that you and your mother had gone to help him move in. Though really, she’d only gone because you didn’t trust yourself to be able to drive back to Laredo on your own. You would only be a couple of hours away from Javier once you moved into your own dorm in San Antonio, but two hours seemed like days when you’d grown up right down the road from him.

“That’s the last box,” Chucho declares, folding down the cardboard to make it easier to dispose of. You take in a deep breath as it hits you. You’re about to go back home without Javier. You’d already spent the last few nights alone with him, saying your more official goodbyes, but they hadn’t felt real. Now you’re really leaving him.

You feel Javi snake his arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his chest. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, and the gentle contact causes tears to spring into your eyes. You hold on tightly to his arms, not wanting to let him go.

Then there’s a flash, and you look up to see your mother with the camera pointed at the two of you, the photo sliding out the bottom just a moment later. You shake your head at her. “Mama, please,” you chastise her, to which she shrugs, but smiles apologetically. You know she doesn’t mean any harm.

“We’ll give you two a few minutes,” Javier’s mother says. Alicia then takes her husband’s hand, and the two of them file out the door with your mother close behind them.

Javi chuckles lowly, pressing a kiss to the juncture of your neck and your shoulder now that the two of you aren’t being so closely watched. “You’re gonna be alright,” he whispers.

“I should have just applied here,” you murmur, frowning deeper. As an English major, you could have chosen to go to school just about anywhere.

“No. You liked visiting San Antonio. You’ll have fun there. I promise,” he tries to convince you. “And we’ll both be home for holidays and spring break,” he pauses to kiss your temple, “though I think a spring break trip with just the two of us sounds like a good time.”

You grin at the idea. “That would be nice,” you reply softly.

Javi loosens his grip on you, but only enough to turn you so that you face him. He brushes a few strands of hair from your face, tucking them back behind your ear. As your eyes meet his, they fill with tears, and there’s nothing you can do to stop them as they begin to slide down your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, querida. Please,” he whispers, cradling the back of your head as you bury your face in his chest. For his sake, you take a few deep breaths, pulling yourself back together.

Once your tears are mostly dry, you look up at him again. “Alright. Alright. I’m done,” you say, cracking the slightest smile.

Javi smiles back down at you, leaning in for another kiss. He stops just before his lips can capture yours. “It doesn’t matter how far away we are. It doesn’t change anything,” he murmurs.

“I love you, Javi,” you whisper, taking his face gently in your hands and closing the remaining distance between the two of you.

“I love you too, mi corazón.”

A single tear escapes you as you relive the tender moment, though you quickly wipe it away with the sleeve of your shirt. For just a moment, you think about shutting the box and leaving it alone–at least for the night. But you’ve already gotten yourself sucked in the current. The only thing you can do now is ride it out.

You continue looking through all the old memories, reliving the moments almost as vividly as the day they happened. There’s a keychain from the spring break trip that you and Javier did actually take. You find a cheesy birthday card, the cork from the bottle of wine he’d brought you the night he proposed. There’s even a couple of letters that he’d written to you during those college years filled with lofty promises about what your lives would look like once you graduated and got your careers started.

It’s as you read the letters that your emotions get the better of you, and your single tear gives way to a wave. More than once he’d described the day that the two of you would finally be married, and it tears you apart to know that he’d painted that picture so vividly in your mind, only to be the one to so cruelly destroy it at the last moment.

Just as you think you’ve made it to the end of memory lane, you find two more things left in the box, buried at the bottom. The first is a piece of cardstock. Time has yellowed the original white color, and when you turn it over, you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

It’s your wedding invitation.

They were a formality that your grandmother had insisted on, even though you and Javier had both agreed that it wasn’t necessary. The wedding was supposed to be a smaller, family affair, much in the way that Danny’s had been. There were a lot of the traditional details that you just hadn’t been worried about. The ceremony wasn’t your priority. It was being able to call Javier your husband that mattered the most. As long as you were able to say “I do” with Javier, you’d be the happiest woman in the world.

The last thing in the box is a small drawstring pouch. You can hear something metallic jingling inside. You pull the drawstring open and shake the contents into your waiting palm. Immediately, your fist closes around the three rings: your engagement ring, and the wedding bands meant for you and Javier.

A choked sob forces itself from your lips, and you hold your closed fist close to your chest, right over your heart. You don’t know why they were in the box or who put them there. You haven’t even seen the wedding bands since they were handed over for safekeeping before the wedding.

However, your last memory of your engagement ring is all too vivid.

You stand in the back room of the church, your mother standing with you. You’re both waiting for Chucho to tell you that Javier is ready, and that it’s time for you to walk down the aisle. Anxiety has taken up residence in your chest, and while you try to convince yourself that it’s only wedding jitters, you can’t help but feel like there’s something very wrong.

“Mama, what time is it?,” you ask quietly. It’s the only way you can keep your voice from shaking. It feels like there’s barbed wire wrapped around your throat. Speak any louder and you know you’ll be fighting off panicked tears.

She looks at the watch on her wrist, sighing softly. “It’s a quarter after three, honey,” she admits. The wedding was supposed to start at three. “Let me go see what’s going on, sweetheart. I’m sure it’s nothing. Probably just a lost boutonnière or a button that needs sewn back on. Take a deep breath. You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she tells you. You nod, taking a set on one of the benches.

As you wait, you start twisting your engagement ring around on your finger. It’s been a nervous tic since the day Javi put it on your finger, and even as the edges of the metal rub your skin raw, you can’t bring yourself to stop. Even as you try to breathe deeply, nothing helps assuage the panic that you feel. Surely someone would have given a warning if it were a simple issue. Surely they wouldn’t leave you so worried for something so trivial.

The passage of time is lost on you. There’s no clock in the room and in your panic, you can’t be sure how long your mother has been gone. But when you hear the knob on the door turn, you’re immediately on your feet, nearly tripping over your dress as you move across the room to whoever is coming in.

Tears blur your vision when you see the somber look on Chucho’s face, his eyes tinged red with tears of his own.

“What happened? Where is he?,” you ask desperately. Without waiting for an answer, you try to make your way past the older man, set on going to the other dressing room yourself to find Javier. But Chucho wraps his arms around you, preventing you from moving any farther.

He shakes his head. “He’s gone, mijita. I’m sorry.”

And just like that, your whole world comes crashing down on top of you. Burying you and the life you’d wanted to live so fiercely.

The first sob that claws its way from your throat sounds more like a scream, and you bury your face in Chucho’s shoulder, letting him take most of your weight as you all but collapse in his arms. “Where is he?,” you beg, “Pops, where did he go?”

Chucho is quiet, his voice thick with emotion as he speaks. “I don’t know, mijita. He left without telling anyone. No one saw where he went,” he tells you. He sniffs softly, tightening his hold on you.

“Why?,” you whimper, raising your head just enough to look Chucho in the eye. But seeing the look on his face only makes your chest throb. Your breaths come in sharp gasps as you wait for an answer, though you know that he doesn’t have one.

He just shakes his head.

“God, what did I do? What did I do,” you weep, your fists curling tightly around the edges of his suit jacket, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You can just barely hear him trying to shush you, to soothe you in any way that he can. You’re shaking violently with every cry that escapes you, and though you know you’re breaking Chucho’s heart, you can’t bring yourself to stop. You’ve never felt grief like this, so forceful and agonizing and real. You feel like you’ve been pulled underwater and your lungs are burning for air that they’ll never get. You know that they won’t

Javier was the air you breathed, and now he’s gone, leaving you to suffocate alone.

You sit there at your desk, unending waves of tears streaming down your cheeks. You’re not in the same fit of hysterics that you were on that day, but you still feel the same anguish, the same throbbing in your chest. It burns, a reminder that you haven’t truly lived or breathed since the day Javier left. Slowly, you uncurl your fingers from around the rings, wincing at the indentations in your palm from where you’d held them so tightly. You drop them onto your desk, not at all bothering with the pouch you’d found them in.

You stand from the chair, forcing your tears away as you stalk out of your room and towards the front door. You grab your jacket and your car keys, and then you’re gone.

There’s only one way to drown out the pain you feel.

—

Towards the edge of town, out past the railroad tracks, there’s a run down bar that Javier used to frequent when he was younger, before he took off for Columbia. As he pulls into the crowded parking lot, he’s not surprised to see that the building hasn’t changed a bit. The paint is still worn. The roof still needs patched, and even the busted window hasn’t been replaced, just patched over with plywood boards.

Before he even gets out of his dad’s truck, he can hear the roaring conversations of people trying to be heard over the rest of the background noise. He sighs, running his hand over his face before he gets out. This isn’t the most ideal situation. Javier would much prefer to be drinking in the comfort of his own home, but he knows that his father is getting suspicious about the amount of alcohol he’s been consuming for the past couple of weeks. He can deal with the noise for a few hours if it means he doesn’t have to sit through another one of Chucho’s heart-to-heart talks. There have been a few too many since he came back from Colombia.

He just hopes that no one bothers him. The last thing he needs is to have all of Laredo down his throat asking him about Colombia. He never wanted to be a hero. He doesn’t think of himself that way. How can he? After everything he’s done, all of the destruction he’s caused, how could he ever be considered a hero? If only they knew what kind of man Colombia had turned him into.

Javier opens the door, stepping out of the cab. He shuts and locks the door before walking into the bar. It’s hard to see through the thick haze of smoke that fills the room, and it doesn't help that the only dim lighting comes from the television and the neon lights on the walls. All that matters to him right now though, is that he’s able to drown out the echo of his father’s words in his head.

If it’s even possible, Javier’s sleeping habits have worsened. Where he once dreamed of the hurt in your eyes when he’d seen you in the market, he now only sees you being held in his father’s arms the moment you learned he’d run off. He can’t shake the haunted look in his father’s eyes as he’d finally revealed the details of that day. And all Javier feels is guilt. He’s being crushed under the weight of knowing just how deeply he’d hurt you.

He doesn’t even want to explain himself anymore. He knows that nothing he says will ever rid you of the scars he’s left on your heart. It’s something that he’ll never forgive himself for.

Javier takes a seat at the bar, and he’s surprised that there’s even a seat open, given just how crowded the room is. He remembers though, even when he was younger, the bar never really seemed to hit any sort of capacity. People kept coming, and somehow it all worked out. Like somehow the finite space of the building became infinite when lonely, broken people came seeking refuge.

Thankfully, there’s a glass of whiskey in front of him just moments later. Javier takes a sip of the dark amber liquid, closing his eyes as he feels the warm burn down his throat and into his chest. He’s glad to feel something there that isn’t the suffocating sense of grief and guilt he’s felt since the night of Danny’s wedding.

But he knows his father was right. About all of it. Even if he doesn’t want it to be true, Javier knows that he’s screwed up, and that he’s running back to Colombia just so he doesn’t have to face it. But it would be so much easier to just go back to work, back to dismantling cartels and incarcerating drug lords. He could bury himself in his work, in booze, in women.

Women that are not you.

And as he drains the first glass of whiskey and starts on the second, Javier realizes that there’s one more thing his father was right about: he’s not the man that he used to be.

He closes his eyes again, thinking about the simple way that life used to be before he took off. Before Escobar, everything was linear. He met you, fell in love with you, planned to marry you. You’d both gone to school and started your careers, ones that would take you far away from Laredo if that was what you’d wanted.

And God, did he want that. It was one thing that he had always talked about with you. You’d both grown up feeling caged in by the small-town atmosphere. College had been the most freeing experience. The feeling of independence and anonymity was so intoxicating that neither of you could get enough of it. You’d been so on board with his idea of escaping Laredo, no matter where the two of you ended up. “I’ll follow you anywhere, Javi,” you’d told him once.

You would have. He knows that beyond any doubt in his mind. Even to Colombia.

He opens his eyes again, discovering that his glass is empty again. His eyes search the room for the bartender, but something else catches his attention. Through the haze of smoke and sea of moving bodies, it’s hard for him to know for sure, but as he looks a little longer, he finds that he does indeed see what he thinks he sees.

You’re sitting at a small table in the back of the bar, nursing a glass of something he can’t quite make out in the inadequate lighting. But then you stop, like you can sense his eyes on you. You turn, your head toward the bar, your gaze moving slowly as you try to find the source of your unease.

Your eyes lock onto his, and in the low neon lights he can see that they’re glistening with unshed tears.

Javier feels his heart leap into his throat, and he watches as your entire body tenses. He drops his gaze, looking back down at the empty glass in front of him. Immediately his father’s words come back to him. He’s done seeking you out and forcing you into conversations that you don’t want to have.

But he looks up again when he sees quick, unsteady movement in your general direction. Javier doesn’t know how much you’ve had to drink, but one look at you as you walk to pay your tab tells him that you’re in no shape to drive yourself home. He stays still, waiting to see what the bartender does. If he’s any good at his job, he’ll make sure that you don’t walk out of the bar without a safe way to get home.

You walk away without a word from the bartender. And though there are plenty of other people around you, none of them seem to feel the need to stop you either.

“Fuck,” Javier mutters, knowing that he has to do something.

After slapping a few bills onto the counter, he stands from his barstool, nearly knocking it over with the force of his rapid movement. He then follows you out of the bar, calling out your name before you can reach your car. You stop, frozen in your tracks.

“What do you want, Javier? Haven’t you figured it out yet? I want nothing to do with you!,” you shout back at him, turning on your heels to face him. Your eyes are dark with anger, and he knows immediately that this isn’t going to go as smoothly as he might have dared to hope.

Javier takes a tentative step in your direction, swallowing thickly. He holds his palms up in mock surrender. “You’re not driving yourself home. I’m just making sure you get there safely. That’s all,” he tells you. You straighten up then, and he can practically see the gears turning in your head as you study him closely. In your anger, he can see that you’ve sobered up considerably, but he’s still not taking any chances, not with your well being and quite possibly your life.

You scoff, shaking your head. “Fuck off, Javier. I’m fine. I live right down the road,” you spit back.

“No. I’m not gonna fuck off. I don’t care if it means I have to call your mom myself. You’re not driving home,” he insists.

You take a step closer to him. “Why do you even care, hmm? You didn’t give a shit about what happened to me for ten fucking years, and now all of a sudden you wanna play the good guy who’s just looking out for me? Well that’s bullshit, Peña,” you bite.

“I–”

“No. Actually, you wanna talk about what happened so badly? Let’s do it. Right here,” you start. And even from a distance he can see you trembling. Whether it’s from the cool night air or the heat of your fury, he can’t tell for sure.

“We’re not doing this while you’re drunk,” he states firmly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You take another step forward. You’re only about ten feet from him now. “Oh no. Everything I think about you is crystal clear in my mind, Javier Peña,” you shoot back.

He takes a deep breath, knowing that there’s no escape from whatever you’re about to lay on him. But he knows that he deserves to hear every horrible thing you’ve thought about him in the last ten years. And even then, it won’t compare to what he’s done to you.

“What did I ever do to you?,” you shout at him. “What did I do to make you leave me like that? Didn’t you ever think that maybe I deserved an explanation? And I mean before you left, not ten years after the fact.” Javier stands there in silence, and he just hopes that the people inside the bar can’t hear you over the music and the chatter and the television. The last thing he needs is for this to turn into a spectacle.

“I didn’t know what to tell you,” he admits. It’s not enough.

“You left me without a word, Javier. No warning. Nothing. If it weren’t for your dad, I wouldn’t have ever known what happened to you. For so long I have tried to figure out what happened. Tried to figure out what I did,” you stop for a moment as your voice finally breaks. Javier feels a pang in his chest as your eyes well up with tears. He wonders how many you’ve shed because of him. How much pain will he cause you before this is all over?

“I loved you, Javi. I thought you loved me too, but–”

“I do love you, querida.” He says the words before he can stop himself. He can take your verbal lashing. He can listen to you tell him about all the terrible things he’s done and the consequences of those actions. But he can’t take this. Never this. Even if it makes sense for you to think he doesn’t love you, that he ever stopped, it’s not true.

“Don’t call me that,” is your only response to his words. “You don’t get to fucking call me that anymore. Because you let me believe that we were gonna spend the rest of our lives together. Our story was gonna be the one that I could tell, and then you were just gone,” you weep.

Javier takes a couple of tentative steps forward, so that you’re just within his reach. He wants nothing more than to be able to take you into his arms, to hold you close and comfort you the way that he used to. Every fiber of his being vibrates with the need to wipe your tears away and stay with you until you smile again. But he can’t. The only thing he can do is stand there and watch as you break right in front of him. He’s absolutely helpless.

“You were the love of my life. I gave you everything. I would have followed you anywhere, Javi. But you left me here,” you tell him, your breath coming in short gasps now.

He sighs softly. “I know. I’m so sorry,” he breathes.

You look up into his eyes with a new resolve, despite the effort you’ve already expended. “I hate you,” you declare resolutely.

Javier nods. “You should. That’s the least I deserve for what I’ve done,” he replies, and though his exterior appears unshaken by your words, his heart is breaking in his chest. To hear you say the words makes it all too real.

“I hate you,” you say again, a new wave of tears overtaking you. And then you close the remaining gap between the two of you, shoving at his chest as hard as you can, though in your current state it’s not enough to really move him. “I hate you, Javier,” you repeat, stumbling into him. He doesn’t hesitate to catch you, keeping you upright as your legs give out from under you.

And you keep repeating it, sobbing the words into his collarbone. Every declaration is punctuated by a weakly thrown punch to his chest and torso. He lets you. A sick, twisted part of him wishes that you had the strength to hurt him that way.

“I hate you,” you wail one last time, “but I don’t know how to love anyone else…”

Your hands fall uselessly to his shoulders, gripping onto the lapel of his leather jacket as you continue to cry into his chest. Something inside of Javier breaks as he feels you trembling in his arms. He can feel every bit of the pain that radiates from your body. It brings tears to his eyes and cuts off his breathing. He’s never felt agony this way, not even in Colombia.

Suddenly, Javier understands what his father felt like the day he left.

—

Javier carries you from the truck into your apartment, using the keys he found in your jacket pocket. You’re sleeping restlessly in his arms, soft choked cries escaping you every few minutes, but he’s just glad that he was able to get you home.

He wanders down the hall with you, finding the bedroom relatively easily given the small size of your apartment. He then lays you gently on your bed, frowning at the way your brows are knit together, deep worry lines marring your forehead. Javier has to resist the urge to smooth them out with his thumb. He knows better than to touch you right now, when you’re far less than aware of what’s going on.

Instead, he takes a seat next to you, making quick work of removing your shoes and your socks. He’ll leave you to sleep in your clothes, not wanting to wake you. Sighing, he pushes himself up, feeling exhaustion settling in on his shoulders. It’s been a long night even without considering his inability to sleep.

But as he stands, you stir, one hand blindly reaching at him. Javier looks to see that your eyes are just barely open as you finally manage to wrap your fingers loosely around his wrist.

“Don’t leave me, Javi. Please. Not again,” you whimper.

He knows that you don’t mean it, that they’re just words fueled by alcohol and exhaustion. But the plea still hits him square in the chest. If only he knew you wouldn’t want different when you woke up in the morning, he’d stay right next to you for the rest of the night.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers. If you hear it, he can’t tell. Your eyes are closed again, your hand slowly slipping away from him.

Javier turns to leave, but as he moves to turn off your desk light, he sees the various things spread out on the wood surface. His chest constricts as he realizes what it is and where it came from. All of these memories of what your lives looked like before stare back at him. He lets out a shaky breath, hardly able to believe that you still have the keepsakes.

He gathers it all back up, placing it gently back in the box, and he carries it with him out to the living room, where he too can take the painful trip down memory lane. Javier sits heavily on your couch, placing the box on the coffee table and beginning to reminisce.

By the time he’s done, he understands why you’d ended up at the bar. If he weren’t so exhausted, he’d need another drink too.

As the clock on your wall gently chimes at three in the morning, Javier lays his head down on the arm of your couch. He aches so badly for sleep, that he can’t help but pass out right there.

It’s restless, but sleep nonetheless

—

You wake with a start as the first rays of light filter their way through your bedroom curtains. You look down at yourself, finding that you’re still in your clothes from the previous night. But you don’t know how you got home from the bar. You don’t know how you made it to your bed. You don’t know how your socks and shoes managed to lie neatly on the floor next to you. All you remember is–

Javi.

You stumble out of your bed, moving as fast as your aching, fatigued body can manage even though it makes your head throb. When you make it to the living room, the first place you look is the couch. He never liked leaving you alone on the nights you got drunk.

But he’s not there.

The only sign that Javier has been in the living room is the mess on the coffee table. He’d found the box on your desk. He’d gone through it and relived the same memories you had. You sink down on the couch, resting your elbows on your knees and pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes. Your words come flooding back to you and you let out a shaky sigh. You don’t know where to go from here.

You sit up straight again, noting the early hour, and decide to just crash on the couch for a few more hours. As you settle yourself onto the cushions, you feel something hard press into your back. You reach behind you, your fingers wrapping around the offending object. A groan escapes you as you bring your hand back into your eyeshot.

Javi’s aviators.

You place them on the table. You don’t have the strength to consider the idea of taking them back to him just yet. Instead, you close your eyes, letting the pull of exhaustion put you back under.

The last thing you’re consciously aware of before you fall asleep again is the faint scent of Javier’s cologne under your nose. A soft smile graces your lips, and in your sleep your burrow further into the cushion.

Spanish Translations

Mi Corazón - My Heart (Nickname)

“Lo siento, querida.” - “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“Te quiero tanto, mi corazón.” - “I love you, my heart.”

Mijita - My Daughter (Nickname)

Chapter Four

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kanawuts · 3 years

Text

The Girl Who Loved Fairy Tales

Inspired by this post by @panncakes

I haven’t written anything in years, so apologies if this is terrible. This is set in alternate universe where Jane doesn’t die and none of the characters are involved in sex trafficking.

Part 1

“Wait, you know him?”

Tan’s voice cut through Jane’s thoughts and she glanced up from her phone. “Hm?”

“Did you just say that you know the doctor?” He leaned closer to her, eyes wide and eager.

“Oh, yeah,” she said, tucking her phone back into her purse. Pued was calling her. Again. And she was ignoring him. Again. “He used to live here when we were kids. We were best friends.”

She and Tan had been holed up in the back corner of the only coffee shop in Viangpha Mork for the last twenty minutes, under the guise of “grading papers,” but so far neither of them had gotten much work done. Tan had seemed distracted since the arrived, fiddling with his pen and shuffling papers around and not saying much at all, until suddenly he’d looked up and said, “Did you hear that the hospital hired a new doctor? I saw him at The Mist last night.”

“Of course,” she said, wondering why he was bringing this up. “Bunn and I go way back. He—”

She was cut off by her phone screen lighting up, alerting her to yet another phone call from Pued. What was it? The fifth one today? Why hadn’t she blocked his number yet? She really needed to block his number.

Pushing her ex to the back of her mind and refocusing on the conversation at hand, she watched as Tan’s eyes seemed to grow brighter with excitement as she explained the childhood connection she and Bunn shared.

“No shit? You guys are friends? That’s great!”

She squinted at him suspiciously. “And why is that?”

Tan paused, considering his words. “He…kissed me. Last night at The Mist. He was absolutely wasted and he stumbled into me and…he kissed me.”

“Oh?” said Jane, raising an eyebrow. She’d always had her suspicions about Bunn’s sexuality. He’d never seemed interested in girls back in their middle and high school days, but she’d never asked him about it and then he’d moved away and they’d lost contact. “And how did you feel about that?”

“Um, have you seen him?” Tan asked. “How do you think I felt about it?”

She tilted her head, considering this. “I didn’t know you liked boys.”

Now it was his turn to raise an eyebrow. “You got a problem with that?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No, of course not.”

Tan was a bit of an enigma. Despite the fact that they had been friends for several years now, sometimes she felt like she knew close to nothing about him. He never talked about his personal life. And then there was way he could shift from an earnest, almost innocent sweetness into someone downright intimidating and dangerous – she didn’t fully know what to make of him most of the time.

“Okay, great,” Tan said, leaning back in his seat. “So it’s settled then.”

“Huh? What’s settled?”

“You’ll introduce me to him! Officially.”

“I don’t remember saying I would do that.”

If it was possible for a person to actually make the pleading face emoji expression in real life, Tan was currently doing so.

“Jaaaaaane,” he whined. “Please. I really think he might be my soulmate.”

She looked at him in disbelief. “Your what?”

“I know that sounds crazy but hear me out. I’ve met him before. Well, not really ‘met,’ per se, but…had a run-in with. It was like eight years ago, back in college. He dropped some papers and I helped him pick them up and then he hurried off before I could introduce myself or get his name or anything and I’ve always been pissed at myself for not chasing him down. We had this connection, Jane, I swear we did. I can’t explain it, but I saw him and something…clicked. That sounds stupid, I know. But I’ve never been able to get him out of my mind. I’ll be having sex with someone and I’ll close my eyes and I’ll see his face. That has to mean something, right? A guy I said three words to years ago having that much of an impact on me? It has to mean something.”

Jane stared at him, completely caught off guard. He’d never opened up to her about something so personal before.

He buried his face in his hands and groaned. “God, why am I even telling you all this? You probably think I’m crazy.”

She reached out, taking one of his hands in her own and pulling it away from his face. “I don’t think you’re crazy,” she said, though that wasn’t exactly true. She quickly racked her brain for something positive to say about the situation. “I think…I think you have good taste. Bunn is the best person I know. I’m not surprised someone would spend eight years pining for him.”

Tan smiled slightly at that. “He’s really handsome,” he murmured.

Jane shook her head in disbelief. She had never seen him like this. “Well, I assume he’ll be at the party tomorrow night. I can introduce you there.”

“The party?”

“The hospital director’s birthday party! Tan, don’t tell me you forgot. You promised you’d be my date.

“Oh…right…”

He had definitely forgotten.

“Don’t even try to back out. You brother is going to be there. And my sister. I cannot face them alone, Tan. I really can’t.”

If there was one memory Jane wished she could erase from her mind forever, it was the sight of Pued and Rungtiva, together in bed. Even now, thinking about it, she felt sick to her stomach. But she couldn’t stop replaying the events in her head. Finishing up work early and deciding to go to Pued’s place to surprise him. Walking in on them. Letting out a shocked scream. Watching them spring apart. The look on Rung’s face, slightly smug, as she dressed and slipped out the door without a word to Jane. Pued’s tears and frantic apologies. “Jane, I’m sorry. I can explain. Please. Just listen to me. I’m so sorry. I love you. Please don’t leave.”

But she had left.

She sent him a text later. “We’re done,” was all it said. He hadn’t stopped calling her and texting her since. She really needed to block his number. Why couldn’t she bring herself to block his number?

Deep down, she knew why. Because he was the boy she’d loved for nearly her entire life. Her childhood friend who had finally turned into something more a year ago. She had truly believed she would spend the rest of her life with him, had truly believed he loved her and only her. But he had betrayed her. Tan thought that Bunn was his soulmate? What the hell did that mean anyway? Soulmate? Pued was her soulmate and he’d fucked her sister. It seemed to her that the whole concept was overrated and meaningless.

Wow. So there it was. She, Janejira Sookyod, the girl who loved fairy tales, the girl who cried watching cheesy rom-coms, the girl whose favorite holiday was Valentine’s Day, had become cynical and jaded.

“I’ll be there,” Tan said, pulling her from her thoughts. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. “And I’ll kick Pued’s ass if he comes anywhere near you.”

Tan had stayed true to his word on that one. And unfortunately, he had to walk away from a conversation with Bunn to do so.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Tan,” she said quietly, as he drove her home. “You should have kept talking to Bunn. I can handle Pued on my own.”

Tan stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly. “He hit you, Jane. You think I was just going to stand by and let him treat you like that?”

“I said some hurtful things to him,” she muttered.

Tan turned his head, the disbelief evident in his eyes. “He slept with your sister. Of course you said some hurtful things to him. Anyone would. That doesn’t excuse him putting his hands on you like that. Are you seriously defending him?”

“No, no, I just…” She trailed off, her head spinning. All she wanted was to change out of this dress into her comfiest pajamas, burrow under the covers of her bed, and stay there the rest of the weekend. “I just never thought he’d do something like that.”

“I’m really sorry this happened to you, Jane,” Tan said softly, seeming to recognize that she wasn’t in the mood to say anything else on the matter.

They drove the rest of the way home in silence.

Over the next week, Jane did her best to avoid thinking about Pued at all costs. Luckily, his attempts to contact her had stopped, besides one text he’d sent her the morning after the party that simply said “sorry.”

Sorry.

One word.

As if one word could possibly be enough to make up for what he had done.

She shook her head, as if she could shake the thought of him right out of her mind. This wasn’t what she needed to be focusing on right now. She was heading to the hospital to have lunch with Bunn and she was taking Tan with her. Mostly because he’d begged her to when she’d mentioned her lunch plans. But maybe this could prove to be a good distraction for her. Her own love life was in complete shambles, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t help out her friends with theirs.

She watched as Tan’s eyes lit up as soon as Bunn rounded the corner, and she smiled, really smiled, for the first time since the incident at the party.

Perhaps she hadn’t become completely jaded and cynical.

“I thought you were coming alone,” Bunn said, as he reached out to hug her.

“I was going to, but Tan was desperate to see you,” she murmured in his ear as he pulled her close, hopefully quietly enough that Tan couldn’t hear her.

Bunn pulled away, and she a saw a small, pleased smile dance at the corner of his lips before he cleared his throat and rearranged his features into an expression of disinterest, as if anyone was going to buy that. He was the one who’d kissed Tan, after all.

She grinned. The two of them were going to make the cutest couple.

An hour later, she and Tan were heading back to her car when she heard someone shout her name.

They both turned, and Jane was surprised to see a doctor running towards them. She recognized her, but she didn’t know her name. How did the doctor know hers?

“Sorry,” the doctor said, coming to a stop in front of them. “I hope I didn’t startle you. Your Ariel keychain fell off your bag.”

Jane let out a little gasp. “Oh my god, thank you so much!” she exclaimed, as the doctor handed the keychain over. “I would have been devastated to lose her.”

“It’s really cute. I love the Little Mermaid,” the doctor said with a smile. “I’m Fai, by the way.”

To be continued...

Part 2

#manner of death #janejira #jane x fai #tanbunn #tan x bunn

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lizzie-boo · 4 years

Text

Never Been Normal

Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: You talk over the details of your wedding with Sirius and learn shocking new information he forgot to tell you.

Warnings: NONE

Word Count: 1,057

A/N: I haven’t posted an actual story in forever, oops. I decided to write this instead of doing my bio homework cuz college sucks and I want to ignore having to do work as long as possible. I’ve had this idea for a while and have really wanted to write it so here it is. I hope I did it justice.

~~~

Resting your head on his chest you let the sound of his heartbeat calm you. Your fingers drew lazy patterns along his hardened chest. It wasn’t very often that you got to spend quiet nights at home with your fiance Sirius. You had been so busy recently with ironing out the details of the wedding that you barely had time together.

However, tonight he had convinced you to put the planner aside and just spend the night together without the stress of planning looming over you. At first you had been opposed to the idea, worried that you would fall behind schedule, but he had pulled you into his chest and suddenly all your worries had floated away.

“We should do this more often,” you mumbled as his fingers tangled in your hair.

“Darling, I’ve been asking to do this for days,” he chuckled.

The rumble in his chest caused you to lift your head. Locking eyes you give him a small smile as your fingers stop moving.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so distracted lately, I promise from now on I’ll make more time for us,” you promised.

His arm tightened around your body, pulling you closer to him, “Don’t apologize, I understand you want everything to go smoothly. Now let’s stop with all the wedding talk and just relax.”

You nodded your head before placing it back against his chest. Your arm had made its way around his waist and you laid there in each others arms. The silence felt welcoming after the long week you both had.

“I think James and Lily want us to visit for lunch tomorrow,” Sirius mentions with a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“And your just telling me this now?”

“I tried to tell you earlier but you were busy. Besides it’s James, he just assumes we’re coming anyway and if we didn’t he’d come here to find us.”

This causes a laugh to escape your lips. Your friend’s spontaneous personality hadn’t wavered since your days at Hogwarts. He still had the same fiery spirit from his younger days, something that you respected.

“Well I guess I know what we will be doing tomorrow then,” you joke.

“Avoiding James to see if he can find us?” Your fiance asks.

“Ah yes, a giant game of hide and go seek with two large children.” You smirk as his eyes light up at the thought.

“Now you’re thinking love. That would be a wonderful way to spend a Saturday. I might need to ring James and Remus and tell them of our change of plans.”

You lightly slap his chest, “Don’t you dare, if Lily spends all day cooking for you lot to derail it with childish games she will kill you all, and I much prefer when you’re alive.”

“Fine but only cause I can’t have you replacing me.” The snort that escapes you has Sirius feigning shock.

“Do you think you can get rid of me that easily darling?” he asks as he rolls on top of you. Successfully pinning you under his much larger body.

“I know I can.” You give him a light shove and he dramatically rolls to the side. As he pretends to nurse his wounds you speak up, “but I won’t since I love you.”

He turns back to look at you. His hand comes up to cup your cheek as his lips connect with yours. Pulling away ever so slightly he whispers, “I love you too.” Then his lips are back on yours.

You spend the next few moments tangled in each others embrace before you pull back suddenly.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“I don’t know where I need to go to change my last name once we’re married. I know you said no wedding talk but I’ve just thought of it and I need to figure this out before the ceremony.”

“You don’t need to worry about it, there’s no need for you to change your last name.”

Your eyes widen before settling into a confused configuration. He looks back at you as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

“Do you not want me to have your last name?” The words come out just barely above a whisper. All the worries now flooding back to you.

“No I don’t, I wanna take yours.” He clarifies while hugging you closer.

“Why?”

“My family disowned me for not agreeing with them and I learned the hard way they were never truly my family. My family is you and our friends who were there for me and who love me. My last name is the only thing that ties me to them. I want to get rid of it and them so I can finally move on from the past.”

“Sirius-” you whisper, tears welling in your eyes.

“I want you to be my family so I never have to remember those vile people. I want to create our own family together and the first step is to take your last name.”

“But what will people think?”

“It doesn’t matter what others think, Love. It only matters what we think and I think that we’ve never been a normal couple so this is perfect for us.” He punctuates his statement with a quick kiss causing you to smile.

“You’re right it doesn’t matter. I love you and would be honored to share my last name with you.” His smile only widens as you agree to his plan.

“I love you so much and I can’t wait to marry you.”

“Then let’s just do it. We will all be at James and Lily’s tomorrow let’s just do it then.” You bite your bottom lip worried he won’t want to rush it.

“That is the most brilliant idea I’ve ever heard,” he exclaims while jumping up to call James.

Sure you had stressed over planning this day for weeks now but none of that mattered as long as you got to marry your best friend. Knowing that the rest of your friends would still be there made your heart soar. You knew that planning wouldn’t have made the ceremony perfect but this spur of the moment plan would be as close to perfect as you could get. And that thought alone made you happier than you ever thought you could be.

~~~ Tip Jar <- Only if you want.

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #Sirius Black #sirius black x reader #sirius x reader #reader insert #reader #imagine #sirius orion black #Sirius black imagine #x reader

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justlookfrightened · 4 years

Text

How hard could it be? Epilogue

A/N: I’m posting this as the epilogue of “How Hard Could It Be?”, but it’s actually going to be the first chapter of its as-yet-untitled sequel. Look for updates on AO3 after “How Hard Could It Be?” finishes posting.

“Come on, Jack, answer.”

Bitty heard the ringing change to the mechanical voice reading the phone number and telling him to leave a message.

He hung up and looked at the time. Just after eight. It was a couple of hours earlier than he usually called Jack, but he knew Jack should be up.

Probably he was doing his morning exercise routine. Even with the return to conditioning in the team facilities, players were still doing a lot of it at home because of restrictions on how many people could be in the gym at one time.

Call me when you get this, Bitty texted. He hoped Jack would call before he showered and dressed and had breakfast.

It’s important, Bitty added.

There was nothing more he could do, so he went back to the kitchen and got butter from the fridge. He could leave a couple of sticks to soften for cookies and cube the rest into flour for a pie crust.

MooMaw brought her coffee cup in from the porch.

“Baking already? What did Jack say?”

“I didn’t talk to Jack,” Bitty said, concentrating on measuring salt into the flour.

“You’re going to move back with your mother and daddy then?” MooMaw asked. “That’s what you’re trying to work yourself up to do?”

“What? No,” Bitty said, starting on the butter. “Jack didn’t answer. Probably working out. But if he doesn’t want me, I’ll try Shitty and Lardo. If things are opening up again, it’s time for me to move on.”

“Move on from here?”

“From Georgia, with my life, all of it,” Bitty said.

“You don’t have to leave,” MooMaw said. “I can tell Connie I don’t have room.”

“Nah,” Bitty said. “She needs a place. And she wants to stay here. Even if I didn’t have somewhere to go, I could take the sofa. And I have a room with Mama and Coach.”

“Have you talked to them?” MooMaw asked.

Bitty shook his head. “Not yet. I want to have a plan first.”

His phone buzzed on the table, he wiped his hands on a dish towel.

“It’s Jack,” he said. “I’ll just go …”

“Front porch is open,” MooMaw said, picking up the bowl with the beginnings of his pie crust. “I’ll just stick this in the Frigidaire until you’re ready to get back to it.”

“Hey, Jack,” Bitty said, answering the call as he pushed the screen door open.

“Bittle?” Jack said. “Are you alright? Is your grandmother alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Bitty said. “I promise. It’s just, my Aunt Connie lost her job. The restaurant she managed in Atlanta announced it’s closing for good.”

“That’s too bad,” Jack said. “But -- and I don’t mean to be insensitive -- why did you need to call me at eight o’clock in the morning to tell me?”

“Because she called MooMaw last night and asked if she could move in here,” Bitty said. “When her lease is up at the end of the month.”

“Okay,” Jack said.

“And the guest room I’ve been sleeping in will become Aunt Connie’s room,” Bitty said. “And I know we talked about, well, me moving back north and maybe staying with you, but I thought that might be more of a ‘maybe someday’ kind of thing and not a ‘I need a place to stay next month’ kind of thing, and if it is that’s totally fine,” Bitty said. “I get it, we barely know each other, we’ve never met in person, and even if we like each other it’s way too much to ask with our relationship being what it is, if you can call it a relationship at all, and --”

“Bittle,” Jack said.

“Mama would be happy to have me back at home with her, and maybe Shitty and Lardo could help me find a place to share in Boston, and MooMaw said she’d tell Connie the room was taken if I wanted her to, but it’s the room Connie grew up in and after working through the whole shut-down, now the place closes because people aren’t coming back in droves? And she’s nearly 60, and she doesn’t know how she’s gonna find a new job --”

“Bittle.”

“Sorry,” Bitty said. “I’m rambling. I just wanted to know before Mama hears the news about Aunt Connie today. She’ll be thrilled about me coming home, and I want to stop that train before it starts if it’s not gonna happen..”

Jack was silent for a moment before saying, “Is that what you want, to stay in Georgia with your family?”

“Not really,” Bitty said. “I mean, maybe for a little while? Like a week or two? But not another three or four months. I’ve liked spending time with MooMaw, and my parents and I -- it’s gotten better, y’know? -- but I don’t think this is where I want to spend the rest of my life. But I know that’s my problem, not yours.”

“Do you not want to stay with me?” Jack said. “I’ve got plenty of room.”

“I know, sweetpea, but I don’t want to put you on the spot,” Bitty said. “I mean, this isn’t like an old-fashioned arranged marriage or something where the first time we lay eyes on each other is the first day we … you know.”

“Just because you stay here doesn’t mean we have to sleep together,” Jack said. “I have had houseguests before without that, eh?”

Bitty snickered in spite of himself.

“You don’t think it would be bad for us?” Bitty asked. “I mean, like us us, like making us hate each other because we’re stuck together, or making us put up with things we don’t like because we don’t want to cause problems?”

“I don’t know,” Jack said. “I’ve never lived with someone I was in a relationship with.”

“And we’d have to be careful anyway,” Bitty said. “Like, when I get there, I should stay in the guest room and stay away from you as much as possible for two weeks just in case I get exposed to this on the road. And -- wait. What did you say?”

“That I never lived with someone before?” Jack said. “Is that weird?”

“No, but, is that what we’ll be doing?” Bitty said. “Living together? I guess I was thinking more of an indefinite visit, until I can find a job and get a place.”

“If that’s what you want,” Jack said. “You’re welcome to my guest bedroom, I guess.”

“And your kitchen?” Bitty said. “I’ve been itching to bake with you for weeks now.”

“With me or with my kitchen?” Jack chirped.

“Both?” Bitty said.

“You should know training camp starts July 1,” Jack said. “So I won’t be home that much. And once we start playing, I won’t be home until … I really don’t know when. So it won’t be so much that you’re staying with me as staying in my place.”

“Ugh, that’s true,” Bitty said. “Little old me, all alone in a luxury condo with top-of-the-line everything. It’ll be like the best house sitting job ever. I can take in the mail and water the plants.”

Jack chuckled.

“What makes you think I have plants?”

“You have one,” Bitty said. “I saw that ficus in your living room.”

“What makes you think it’s real?” Jack challenged.

“Uh … there was a dead leaf?”

“Was there?”

Bitty could hear Jack walking through the condo.

“Shit, you’re right,” Jack said. “I usually have a service take care of the plants but they haven’t been coming because of the pandemic. They sent instructions … but I think I forgot to water last week.”

“See?” Bitty said. “I can make myself useful.”

“You don’t have to,” Jack said. “You’re welcome to come and stay as long as you want or need to. If things open up enough by then, I can get the plant lady to come back. But we don’t have to figure it out now.”

“No, now I just need to tell my parents that after moving home from college and more or less directly into MooMaw’s house, I’m going to move back to New England at the end of June to live with a man I’ve never met,” Bitty said. “It should go well.”

“Haha,” Jack said. “I’ll have to … is it okay if I tell the team? That you’re staying with me? They don’t have to know we’re anything besides friends. But it would be hard to keep it to myself, I think.”

“Of course,” Bitty said. “It’s your home, your team. Tell them as much as you want.”

“Thanks,” Jack said. “Good luck with your folks. Let me know how it goes. And Bittle …”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really looking forward to meeting you in person.”

“Me too,” Bitty said. “I mean, meeting you, not me.”

They ended the call with Jack laughing at Bitty’s joke. Bitty shook his head and looked at the phone for a moment before heading back to the kitchen and resuming his work on the dough.

“Well?” MooMaw asked.

“Looks like I’m headed to Providence in a couple of weeks,” Bitty said. “So this is gonna be a peach pie for Mama.”

Bitty was waiting on MooMaw’s porch with the pie, a pitcher of sweet tea and a container of peanut butter cookies boxed up for coach when his mother came with the groceries. She left the bags on the step, and Bitty got up to carry them inside.

“Go ahead and get yourself some pie and tea,” he said. “There’s something I want to talk to you about.”

He left the bags in the kitchen with MooMaw, and came back outside, cutting his own slice of pie before taking a seat on the other side of the porch from his mother.

“Is this about Aunt Connie?” his mother said. “She called this morning. She was asking if I thought we could put together some kind of order business for baked goods and jams and such, maybe sell at farmer’s markets and things. I said you’d have to be part of it too, of course. Because then we could make more, and cover more markets every weekend.”

“No,” Bitty said. “Well, sort of. It’s about Aunt Connie moving back here, at least.”

“You know your room’s been ready for you,” his mother said. “And I know you’re a grown man and need your privacy. Your father and I won’t be nosy.”

What did they think Bitty would be doing in his room? By himself? Because he honestly didn’t know any other gay men in Madison, although there must be some, just based on numbers. And anything else … well, he;d been a teenager already hadn’t he?

He wished he weren’t blushing to the roots of his hair when he said, “No, Mother. It’s not about moving home. Or, I guess, it’s about not moving home.”

His mother looked confused.

“It’s going to be difficult to find a place around here just now, and you’d need a job …”

“I know,” Bitty said. “I will need a job, and that will be hard to find around here. You knew I was planning to go back north.”

“But, where --”

“With Jack,” Bitty said. “He invited me.”

“You can’t impose on a man you barely know for goodness knows how long,” his mother said, like it was obvious. “Even if he says it’s okay, people get tired of having guests.”

“I know, Mama, but it won’t be like that,” Bitty said, hoping very much that he was right. “By the time I get there, he’ll be in training camp, and then he’ll be away for the playoffs the NHL is doing this year, keeping all the teams in the same place, so won’t even be there for a lot of the time. And he’s got a spare room and bathroom and everything.”

“Now, Dicky,” his mother said. “I know you really like Jack, from the time you’ve spent on the computer with him, and he does seem taken with you, but that’s not real life. I’d hate for you to go so far only to be disappointed. Maybe you can visit him for a week and come home?”

“No, ma’am,” Bitty said. “Traveling isn’t such a great idea right now -- I’m planning to isolate myself for a couple of weeks once I get there just in case -- and anyway, I wasn’t asking permission. I was sharing my plans.”

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #my fic

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megumis-lashes · 4 years

Text

Love Bites

Vampire! Han Jisung x Reader Part 2

**Contains**: mentions of blood/blood drinking, parental abuse, bullying, fighting, slight swearing, emotional abuse, friends to lovers, werewolf Hyunjin, western high school standards, female reader

Flashback =

> Hello

Spending the weekend with Jisung was awkward to say the least. I knew it was in no way his fault. It was mine. I hadn’t had ‘friends’ in years and practically forgot how to act around other people. Thankfully his bubbly personality seemed to make up for everything I lacked. Following the weekend I knew I had to attend school. As much as I hated it, I knew that skipping would only spell more disaster for me in the future. I arrived to school with Jisung, looking somewhat put together despite my rough situation.

I never knew how knowing and interacting with certain people could gain. So. Much. Attention. I forgot just how popular Jisung really was. He wasn’t the most popular, but the majority of students could easily recognize him in a croud. Much to my dismay, people began to spread rumors about the situation. The biggest one was in regard to why I arrived with someone like him, or even talked to him for that matter. We had never talked outside of school before this. This reminded me of a similar situation. My parents being the way they are had signed me up for the school tutor program. Much to my dismay I had been assigned the school’s pretty boy, Hwang Hyunjin,as my student. Despite his constant attempts at becoming my friend, Hyunjin and I’s relationship was purely professional. I helped him out on school work and I would get more points for college. This didn’t stop the rumors though. Many jealous ‘fangirls’ spread rumors about us dating, which I didn’t appreciate. I would constantly get hate notes delivered to my locker.

I quickly dismissed Jisung and began my day. Today was pretty standard. I had two quizzes and some homework due, but nothing too bad. The only thing that scared me was what my lunch schedule held. Hyunjin had a huge unit test in chemistry today and he requested my help during lunch period. I hadn’t really given him an answer, but he said that if I showed up he could pay me. Right now I really needed the money so I was willing to accept a few more hate notes than usual. After my morning classes I showed up to lunch and sat by Hyunjin’s group of friends, surprising them in the process.

“Wow Hyunjin is this your girlfriend? I’ve seen you with her before.” One of the boys questioned. I think his name was Felix.

“No, no this is my tutor, name. She’s here to help me study for my chemistry unit test, I’m just surprised she showed up is all.” He chided as he rubbed his neck nervously. I could tell he was in no way ready for this test.

“Don’t worry the study session should be quick. I’ll make sure you’re prepared before the end of lunch. You should still have some time.” I explained as I shuffled through my backpack. I handed Hyunjin a small study guide I prepared for him.

“Here’s something I threw together. Read that over and tell me what you don’t understand. I’ll be over there when you’re done.” I smiled subtly as I walked over to the next table. Despite his popularity he was still a normal teenager.

As I had expected, helping Hyunjin during lunch drew some attention to me, especially from the ‘popular girls’ or whatever they like to be called. I never really minded their existence, but I could always feel their eyes burning into me whenever I hung around their ‘love interest’. Before lunch ended collected my payment from Hyunjin and went to use the restroom. I was fixing my hair in the mirror when those girls walked in.

“Oh if it isn’t name! That’s funny we were just looking to talk to you!” I sighed in annoyance. I was in no mood to talk with them for whatever reason. I never had many interactions with them, but they still managed to put me on edge. Their small group consisted of two juniors and one sophomore. Their leader ‘Mia’ was a relatively tall girl with long black hair who typically wore bright red lipstick. She was by far the worst out of them. Along with her was her close friend, Jiuen. She had bleach blond hair that she often styled in curls. The last girl was rather mysterious. I honestly couldn’t remember her name. She wasn’t one to stand out in a crowd and I don’t think she was a part of the group by choice. She had dark brown hair, styled in pig tails, and wore chunky blue glasses.

“Did you need something?” I sighed. I would have to leave for class soon.

“Ah yes!” Mia answered. “We’re here to make a deal with you!” I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.

“What about?” I questioned

“So you see you’ve been hanging out with some popular people lately, and I guess you could say that I’m a bit jealous.” She giggled. “I hate to be that person but could you do me a favor and leave them alone? I need all the chances I can get in getting a boyfriend!” She explained.

I sighed. “Are you serious? If you’re talking about Hyunjin there’s nothing going on between us at all. Same with Jisung. We’re simply acquaintances who help each other out from time to time. I don’t see how it’s a problem.”

“Well I’m afraid that’s not convincing me. There’s no way I know anything about your relationships so you could be lying for all I know. I simply cannot trust your word on this!” She huffed. I rubbed my temples in annoyance.

“Look I swear I’m telling the truth. What would I even gain from lying? Plus there’s no way I can fully avoid Hyunjin as I am his assigned tutor.”

“Just request a change in students it’s not that difficult. I don’t see why you can’t just help me out this one time.” She groaned dramatically.

“Well what’s in it for me? You’re practically rewriting my life for your benefit only. I’m sorry but I’m not changing my entire schedule just so you can have a better ‘chance’!” I was getting sick of this conversation. I wanted to leave.

“Fine then you leave me no choice! I can easily destroy you.” She snickered.

“What do you mean?” She was making me anxious. She barely tried to convince me and she’s already pulling out her greatest asset?

“Well if you somehow managed to forget, I am the principals daughter. I could easily pull some strings. Maybe I could say you cheated! Yeah that’s a great idea! All the grades you worked so hard on would turn to dust! Then you’d be suspended for breaking school law! Oh and I’m sure your parents wouldn’t be so happy about that now would they?” She chuckled as she pulled out her phone.

“You can’t be serious Mia. This isn’t that deep.” I tried to stop myself from shaking.

“Oh I’m serious! It only takes a press of my finger to ruin you! If I send a report to my dad about you cheating, I know he’d believe me! You’re best option is to just agree to my conditions! There’s no way your parents would be happy with you being expelled!”

I was on the verge of tears. There was nothing I could do in this situation. She was right. There was no way I would be let of the hook for being expelled. This combined with all the stress I had been feeling in the past week led me closer and closer to breaking.

“Fine.” I stammered “You win. I won’t talk to either of them and I’ll ask to tutor someone else. Just please don’t mess with my grades. You know how much they mean to me.” I pleaded.

She giggled. “Finally you gave in! Alright then that’s a deal! I won’t ruin you, or at least not until later!” She exclaimed. I gritted my teeth, still trying to keep my composure.

“Come on girls let’s go!” She led the girls from the bathroom. Upon leaving she slammed into my shoulder, effectively pushing me into the wall. That hurt like hell.

“Haha so sorry! I must’ve not see you there!” She chuckled again and walked away with her group.

I cringed in pain as I felt the warm tears I had worked hard to withhold cascade down my cheeks. Wasn’t this an eventful week.

For the rest of the day I made it my duty to avoid the two boys at all costs. I could in no way afford that level of failure going on my record. I would be doomed for all eternity. Avoiding them wasn’t too difficult during classes. I was in much higher classes than Hyunjin and only shared a few classes with Jisung. Thankfully I had all my shared classes in the morning. At the end of the school day, I requested a new student to tutor. I claimed our timing didn’t work out and left a small note to Hyunjin explaining it was for personal reasons. I continued through my day as unaffected as I possibly could act. I attended volleyball practice until 6, then took a different route back to Jisung’s house in hopes of avoiding him completely. I managed to sneak in through his back door (AN: no pun intended) since he had given me a key. I only saw him once that night for a brief moment. He questioned why he didn’t see me and I explained that I had volleyball and homework to do. I also warned him that he probably wouldn’t see me much after school so that he wouldn’t worry. The next morning I left before he woke up.

Over the course of the next few weeks I was successful in avoiding both Hyunjin and Jisung. Jisung did seem a little suspicious of seeing me extremely rarely, but he didn’t push his questions since I helped with chores and even payed him a portion of the money Hyunjin had given me. Hyunjin on the other hand was extremely bothered over my sudden change in schedule. He would constantly try to approach me at lunch or during class and as much as it pained me, I would force myself to ignore him or walk away giving him some dumb excuse. I knew he didn’t believe anything I said. The most persistent thing he did was leave me letters. I read the letters but I never replied. He would often describe his day and somehow always end up on the topic of tutoring. He explained how he was assigned a new tutor, except it was a girl that was a year under him. Despite how advanced she was in classes, she knew little of the junior material and was even more confused than Hyunjin. With his constant begging for me to come back I constantly felt terrible about my decision. As much as I appreciated his efforts at keeping in contact with me, there was one small issue. He. Was. Extremely. Obvious. Practically the entire school knew he left envelopes in my locker, many of them believed the notes to be love letters.

Today was no different. I was returning to my locker at the end of the school day only to find another note. Upon first look it was easy to understand why people thought the notes to be out of love. Hyunjin wasn’t exactly great at portraying his emotions and could be rather dense at times. He used a baby pink envelope and decorative stationary that I could only assume belonged to a female in his family. In today’s note he described how desperate he was to have me as a tutor again. His current tutor recently passed out from what Hyunjin had described as ‘confusion’ and had been too embarrassed to show up to tutor sessions the past couple sessions. When Hyunjin attempted to ask for a new tutor, the teachers refused as he had changed tutors once that month already. I chuckled. I could tell he was panicking while he wrote the letter. His messy handwriting was a stark contrast to the beautiful card. He could be dense at times but I knew he was a smart kid, he could manage without me for a while. What I failed to notice at the time were the burning stares drilling into my back.

“Hi name! It’s a nice day today isn’t it! You wouldn’t mind going on a small walk with us would you?” My small smile quickly faded. That voice, I could recognize it anywhere. It was Mia and by the overly ‘happy’ tone of her voice I could tell she wasn’t too happy with me. As much as my gut pleaded me not to follow her I couldn’t risk anything.

“Sure.” I murmured. I quickly finished packing my backpack and shut my locker, following the three girls. The girls stopped at a small shady spot at the back of the school. They weren’t lying it was nice out. It was a clear fall day, the sun shining beautifully in the sky. Despite all this I couldn’t bring myself to enjoy it. I was scared shitless of what they were going to say. Mia quickly faced me.

“So what do you have to say for yourself? Liar.” I creased my brows in confusion.

“What do you mean? I haven’t broken our agreement?” I really hoped they withheld their part of the deal.

“Well name you aren’t very subtle. I thought with how smart you are you would know better!” She scoffed.

“I’m still confused as to what to what you mean?” I was seriously starting to panic at this point.

“Just give up already. You don’t have to play dumb for me anymore. I know you broke our agreement. Your little relationship with Hyunjin is pretty obvious if you ask me. Sure you may have stopped tutoring him but I see how he leaves letters for you. You read every single one and you even chuckled while reading today’s ‘love letter’. You’re not a sly as you think!” She exclaimed. I knew she was mad now.

“No, no, no you’ve got it all wrong! I’m in no secret relationship with Hyunjin and I never reply to his letters! He’s just struggling in class and wants me to tutor him again but I’ve told him I can’t-“ Time seemed to freeze at that moment. What woke me from my trance was a sharp pain to my left cheek.

She slapped me.

I was frozen out of pure shock. As I blinked out of it I could feel warm drops of blood stream from a small cut on my check. I definitely didn’t expect her to get physical.

“That’s what you deserve you deserve you bitch! How dare you! I went easy on you! I made an agreement and you just had to ruin everything! That’s it! Two can play at this little game of yours! By Friday I’ll make sure to ruin you and make sure the whole school hears your embarrassing little sob story as well!” She screamed as I collapsed to the ground. My shaking legs had finally given out a look of shock still painted on my face. She began to walk away. I stumbled forwards towards her.

“Wait! No! No! No! You can’t do this to me! What did I ever do to you! I never did anything-“ She cut me off by yanking my hair. I sobbed out of fear and despair.

“Shut up. YOU ruined my chances. YOU broke the deal! Think of this as ALL. YOUR. FAULT!” She finished her argument by slamming her hand bag in my face. I cringed in pain as the metal clasps made contact with my skin. That was sure to bruise later. Following their leaders departure, Jiuen walked over to my slumped form. She shuffled in her bag and pulled out a small carton of milk. She quickly tore open the carton and dumped it over my head. I sobbed and coughed in disgust. The third girl did absolutely nothing besides stand there and look down at me in pity. She quickly ran after the other girls.

“Why me?”

I sat there for what felt like hours but was probably along the lines of 15 minutes. I felt disgusting to say the least. I had never wanted to shower this much in my life. I took of my bag, thankful it was still clean, and began to dig around. I quickly found an old gym shirt and used that to somewhat clean my face.

The walk home was humiliating. I could feel the stares of students and teachers alike burn into my back. I kept my head low. The walk itself felt like torture. I was exhausted, both mentally, emotionally and physically. I was also still in pain. I could feel blood ooze from the cuts on my face and the bruises begin to form. I’d probably have to buy some concealer to hide the bruising. Upon arriving to the house I quickly stumbled inside. Once I reached the living room I realized my mistake. Jisung was home and was staring right at me.

“What the fuck happened to you?” He questioned almost flying off the sofa. He must’ve been playing games before my arrival.

“Oh, uhh nothing really. I just uhh... tripped is all. Don’t worry I’ll go take care of it.” I knew it was probably the worst excuse of the decade but I really didn’t have the energy to make a better one.

“Bullshit! You have bruises and scratches almost exclusively on your face! Plus I can tell you’ve been avoiding me!” He exclaimed as he approached me “Name you don’t have to act strong all the time. I can tell you’re not ok. Please tell me what happened... if you can.”

It didn’t take another word from Jisung for me to breakdown in a mess of tears. It was about time. The amount of stress I had been experiencing was extremely unhealthy. Combined with the fact that I wasn’t allowed to express emotions at home, the pressure was too much.

“I-I got into a f-fight.” I sobbed. “I really don’t know what I did wrong! They had to blackm-mail me for what? Having friends?” I buried my head in my hands. I was broken. “They got mad at me for being by you and Hyunjin! They, they threatened to ruin me! All my hard work! My hours of unhealthy studies! All to make my parents happy! But they just had to destroy it all out of spite!” I coughed as I felt the salty tears slip onto my lips. My sobs were cut off when I felt strong arms wrap around my middle.Jisung had hugged me. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had given me a hug. As happy as I should of been, the physical contact simply made me sob harder.

“Slow down, slow down! I know you’re upset and I’m here for you! Just go at your own pace. I’m not gonna go anywhere until you’re done.” He patted my back. I tried to calm my breathing and began to explain. Explain everything, from when I had been kicked out to when the girls had first blackmailed me to when they attacked me for Hyunjin’s notes. It was exhausting to just remember those events. Then I explained everything about my parents. How difficult they were. Nothing mattered besides numbers and results.

“They could care less about my existence as a person, or their daughter. “ I explained. We were now seated on his large sofa, his hand holding mine out of comfort. The whole time I explained my situation I could tell he was listening. He started at me attentively with a kind look in his eyes.

“I never knew we were so similar.” He chuckled as he scratched his neck.

“What do you mean.” I questioned, drying the tears from my face.

“The whole parent thing I mean. My parents are incredibly hard on me as well. I’m the next in blood line per say, and because of my familial ranking I take an important family position once my parents die. They aren’t necessarily that focused on grades like your parents are but they care a lot about field performance. That doesn’t mean I can slack in school though.” He sighed. “Other than that they barely pay any attention to me. They let me figure out everything on my own. By the age of 12 I practically lived alone. I’ve been an adult for almost the entirety of what should’ve been my childhood.” He sighed. “Anyway thank you for explaining it to me I know it’s been difficult for you. As much as you dislike them, let’s make a deal.”

“About what?” I blinked myself awake. I was starting to get really tired.

“No more secrets. Don’t keep this sorta stuff to yourself from now on ok? It does more harm than good. I’m always here to listen!” He smiled. I could feel my checks warm at his smile. It was cute.

“Alright then.” I smiled bashfully. “Pinky promise?”

“Pinky promise!” He confirmed, quickly wrapping his pinky around mine.

“Now I hate to be rude but you should really take a shower.” He scratched his neck as he chuckled.

“Hey! I went through a lot today!” I chided

“I know, I know. How about you go shower and then we can watch a movie! Maybe it’ll help you feel better!”

“Actually... that sounds really nice. But what about my homework? And my grades?” I completely forgot that school existed.

“Ahh don’t worry about it! I’ll do your homework for you when you shower! I already did mine so it’s fine! About your grades, just leave it to me! I’ll talk to them tomorrow ok!” He exclaimed.

“Are you sure?” I questioned. I’d feel guilty if he did all that for me.

“I’m sure! Now go!”

I started to walk to my room to go shower when I stopped.

“Hey Jisung?”

“Yeah? What’s up?”

“Thank you.”

I smiled. My first true smile in a while.

#skz #skz fanfic #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop writing #straykids x reader #straykids #han jisung x reader #han x reader #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #writers

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twoidiotwriters1 · 3 years

Text

Déjà Vu (Or are we losing our minds?) VII -Modern!Shirbert

A/N: Based on that one tumblr post that I lost but I hold dearly in my heart -Danny

Words: 1,408

Series’ Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Chapter Seven: Blythe's Flowers.

It's been very rare to have known you,

very strange and wonderful.

-F. Scott Fitzgerald.

“Good morning Ladies and Gentlemen!” Gilbert said as soon as he opened the door. “Hope you had a great night– Winter won’t defeat us, guys!” He dropped his bag behind the counter and put on his apron, ready to start the day.

It was then that an extremely cute, disheveled woman, barged into his flower shop and yelled:

“I need to say ‘fuck you’ in the most lavish way possible,” She slammed fifty bucks on the counter. “Make the most offensive bouquet you can think of.”

___________________

Done was an understatement. Anne was sick of this push and pull situation with her exboyfriend.

He’d lied, cheated, and then played the victim part all too well for his own good, and she was about to pluck it all out. She had the screenshots, she had the love letters that were filled with lies. She had everything, and she only needed to add the cherry on top.

“Um- Hi,” The man behind the counter said clumsily. “I- uh, I… did you just say you want to give someone an offensive bouquet?”

“Don’t look at me like that,” She said defensively. “I’m not the bitch in this story! He had it coming for months!”

“Alright, okay,” He raised his hands. “None of my business…”

The man looked around the shop like he had no idea where to start.

“Uhh… Oh! Okay so, did he cheat?”

“Excuse me?” Anne blinked.

“Well, I have foxglove over here…” He walked around the counter to show her the pinkish flowers. “They're all about insincerity… I guess it doesn’t need to be about cheating…”

“Oh but he did!” Anne growled, looking at the flowers as if they were making fun of her. “For five fucking months! Can you believe it?”

The poor guy stepped back at her outburst, raising his eyebrows in slight panic and grabbing a bunch.

“Okay, foxglove it is…” He mumbled. “I also have geraniums, but I consider their looks a bit too friendly for this situation, though they represent stupidity in some cases…”

“Stupidity fits nicely in my bouquet,” She sentenced.

“Sunflowers are perfect for this!” The man said, excited about finally getting a hold of the situation. “False and haughty people...”

“I thought I was the only flower-nerd in town,” Anne couldn’t help a little smirk to show up at the man’s eagerness. “Of course, that was a silly thought considering you own a flower shop.”

“If you’re gonna do something, you better do it thoroughly, right?” He shrugged, picking more flowers as he walked back to the counter.

“Yes,” She agreed. “Where does one learn so much about flowers and their meaning, though?”

He stopped for a second and looked at her like he’d never been asked that question before.

“I…” He frowned. “Huh, well… books?”

“That makes sense,” Anne grinned. “Flowers are one of the most beautiful creations on earth, don’t you think?”

“Definitely,” He nodded. “They’re fresh, vibrant, and they smell good!”

“They feed the bees!”

“They feed me,” He snorted, grabbing a sunflower and talking to it. “Thank you for that, Madame.”

Anne beamed at the sight. ‘What a dork’ she thought.

She shook her head then. No! She was there because a man had broken her heart, she wasn’t going to allow another man to have his way with her so soon after Roy. Not today, Satan.

___________________

Did he seriously talk to a flower in front of the pretty costumer?

Yes, and he would be cringing about it for the rest of his life.

“So,” He cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. “This guy… is he an exboyfriend?”

The woman stood in silence for about ten seconds. He was about to apologize and say it was clearly none of his business when she let out a scoff.

“I mean, yes. Obviously,” She stated. “I wouldn’t be buying a bouquet that says fuck you to my father.”

“Well, some people have shitty parents, and sometimes saying ‘fuck you’ to their faces only makes things worse, so...”

“My father is lovely,” Her voiced softened. “But I do get your point… I guess that if you have a knack for theatricality, insulting your parents without them knowing must be cathartic.”

“I agree, though my dad was also great,” He smiled, then looked down at the bouquet he was making. “This guy, however…”

“Roy,” She sneered. “He’s a twat.”

“I see,” Gilbert eyed her carefully. “I’m sorry if I’m being too snoopy, but why are you paying for this when you could just delete his number and keep going?”

“Because he’ll propose to one of my college friends today,” She had that dangerous glint back in her eyes. “And I’m about to give her the best engagement gift she could’ve asked for.”

“Oh,” Gilbert tilted his head. “Was she… uh, the one that..?”

“I don’t know,” The girl brushed it off like that really wasn’t her priority. “For all I know, he’s been sleeping with different girls while dating me, so she could very well be one.”

“Ugh,” Gilbert grimaced. “that’s exactly how you get syphilis…”

“Right!?” She replied heatedly. “I went to the doctor as soon as I found out, he’s so gross! Luckily I was fine, but I hope he gets rabies.”

Gilbert let out a childish laugh.

“That’s not an STD,” He replied stupidly.

Seriously, just kill me already, Gilbert begged silently, but she smiled.

“A girl can dream…”

“Well, all done,” He said after two minutes of carefully mingling the flowers.

She examined the bouquet, an astonished smile on her face.

“It’s amazing! If I didn’t know what it meant I’d say it’s beautiful...”

“Anger can be pretty too,” He replied simply, the image of her sudden intrusion and her frown in his mind.

“You’re right,” She grinned, then rummaged through her pockets. “How much, then?”

“Oh no,” Gilbert frowned, lifting a hand. “Just take it.”

___________________

“W-What?” Anne blinked in surprised.

“I won’t stand here and watch you pay for this,” His eyebrows were scrunched down, but his mouth was slightly turning into an amused grin. “It’d be rude.”

“Rude?” She let out an incredulous laugh. “It’s your job!”

“It’s for your exboyfriend,” He replied. “I won’t let you spend money on a person that sounds like trash!”

“I can’t accept it for free!” Anne rolled her eyes. “I’ll have my gratification later, when Lauren finds out what an absolute ass her fiance is!”

“Wait, what?” The man tilted his head. “Didn’t you say he was going to propose today?”

“Well yeah, but it’s not exactly a surprise, they’re making a whole lunch date to make it official–” She shook her head, realizing how surreal it was to share all this private information with a stranger. “Listen- uh, What’s your name?”

He was about to reply when a second costumer entered, distracting him from the chat.

“Hello,” She watched as he straighten his posture and smiled warmly at the person. “I’ll be with you in a second,” then he turned back to her. “Listen, whatever you’re doing, I hope you don’t hurt the girl too much, she’s not to blame–”

“I know that!” Anne replied in slight outrage. “I’m not making this to rub it on her face, I’m trying to make her see he’s not what she thinks he is!”

“Okay, fine!” He whispered back in the same tone, raising his hands in defeat. “Just making sure…”

“Here,” She tried to shove the fifty bucks on his hand. “Please, just take the money.”

“I won’t,” He chuckled, softly pushing her hand away along with the bill. “Tell you what, don’t pay me in cash. But please, do come back after you’ve done your whole romantical heist to tell me how’d it go, you can’t leave me like this.”

His eyebrows then raised in expectation, a pleading smile on his face as he patiently waited for her reply.

“I…” Anne hesitated, then bravely offered, “only if you let me buy you lunch so we can talk about it during your break- if you have a break, I mean, I don’t see anyone else working here…”

His eyes shone at the mention of a shared lunch, wich she found endearing.

“See you later, then,” She mumbled, suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious about her offering. She grabbed the flowers and stopped once more. “Oh! Sorry, I almost forgot- what was your name, then?”

He smiled widely, extending one hand for her to shake before leaving.

“Gilbert.”

Taglist.

@ninizkd @http-itsrebecca @fuckthisshitimoutyall @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @little-boats-on-a-lake

#twoidiots writing #anne with an e fanfic #anne with an e #anne shirley x gilbert blythe #anne shirley cuthbert #Gilbert Blythe #DV fic #shirbert #shirbert fanfic #awae

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svtxsoju · 4 years

Text

01. crush that hangover! | dear miss soju

ღ Synopsis: College is hard. Love is even harder. Good thing the students of Mansae University can write in to Miss Soju, the campus’ very own romance advice columnist! The only problem is she’s never been in a relationship. Ever. There’s no telling what kind of chaos she may cause in the love lives of several of MU’s most eligible bachelors. Too bad no one knows who she really is! ღ Characters/Pairings: college AU! Seventeen & OC’s, Pairings TBA! ღ Genre: Romantic Comedy, Slice of Life ღ Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, underage drinking, mentions of sex, language, bad jokes ღ Word Count: 5.0k words ღ Binu’s Note: ever stare at a selfie so long that it looks weird? ya that’s this chapter for me. there were just so many elements that i wanted to get right, but i kept changing things and now i can’t look at it anymore :c i’ll properly proofread it later, but for now enjoy!! i have some other content ima post later so i’m p excited for that hehehe anyway ya happy friday!!!

《 ⊛ Author’s Note & Credits ⊛ Disclaimer ⊛ Masterlist ⊛ 》

《 Previous ⊛ Next 》

Monday, September 2, 2019 9:05AM

This was not how Joohyun had imagined her first day at The Front. Whenever she described this moment to Jihoon, she was very clear about the way she would walk in so confidently that the senior writers would wonder why they forgot to email her an invite to their 8:30 meeting. Jihoon, who relished in raining on her parade, predicted that they wouldn’t even know her name. But she had no time for his blunt realism, because she had been living as a made-up person since June and her corporate daydreams were the only things keeping her sane. She knew it wasn’t going to be easy, but she figured that once they saw her talent, everything would be just fine.

So it’s not difficult to imagine Joohyun’s distress when she just barely stumbled into the office this morning, nursing a mind-melting hangover.

She should have known she would be a goner when the sports section interns had challenged her to a drinking game at last night’s welcome party. Her drinking partner, a small girl interning at HR, had only made it two shots in before falling asleep on her lap. For the record, she had still made sure that she was the last intern standing (although she definitely wasn’t the same bright-eyed freshman that could chug a pitcher of soju and beer just to spite Jihoon). Looking around the office, she felt a little relieved to find that the other interns were suffering just as much as her, if their slumped positions and pained groans told her anything. So much for giving a good first impression.

Joohyun was trying her best not to look like she was two steps from an early grave when she was approached by a big woman with a laptop in her arms. She awkwardly bowed her head to greet her, but the woman’s gaze never left the screen of her Macbook. “Miss… Joonyoung?”

“Oh, that’s not--”

“You’re the new advice column intern, correct?”

“Oh. Yes, that’s me, but that’s not my--”

“I’ll show you to your desk.” Without so much as a glance, the woman turned on her heel, now typing furiously on her laptop. Joohyun followed behind glumly.

This was all Jihoon’s fault.

“So, how’s your first day going?” Jihoon asked over his bowl of ramen. He flagged down the tall waiter and ordered a bowl of rice.

“Fine,” was Joohyun’s curt answer. In truth, it was far from ideal. She had watched longingly as all the other interns were assigned with their first projects, while she was left with an empty inbox. How was she supposed to write an advice column when there was no one asking her for advice? She spent most of the morning familiarizing herself with the previous entries of The Front’s dating advice column, the most recent of which dated to the newspaper’s May issue… from 1997.

When her supervisor told her to take a lunch break, she had made a beeline to meet Jihoon at the restaurant near the cafe he worked at. Now that she was sitting in front of him though, she wasn’t quite ready to confess that her dream job was much more mundane than she expected. “Hey, wasn’t this a fried chicken shop last semester?”

“That bad, huh?” Jihoon clicked his tongue. Joohyun sighed - she didn’t know why she even tried to hide anything from him when he’s known her for 12 years. He probably knew some parts of her better than she did. “Come on Joo, don’t give up on Miss Soju so easily. It’s just because you’re a little hungover. We watched The Notebook like five times this summer! What more do you need to know about true love? Do you want me to set you up on another date with that freakishly tall dude for more hands-on experience? Ah, speak of the devil!”

“Thanks, Mingyu.” Joohyun took the bowl of rice and gave the server a sweet smile, which greatly contrasted with the glare she shot at Jihoon soon after. The server, a stunning boy with jet-black hair and tanned skin, stuck his tongue out at Jihoon. She waited until Mingyu went to the other side of the restaurant to serve a rowdy group of boys to whisper-shout at Jihoon. “Can you try not to expose my identity to the whole campus before I even get the chance to write my first ever entry?”

“Ohhh, that’s why you’re sulking. No one’s sent you a letter yet so you didn’t get to do anything today,” Jihoon said. It sometimes got annoying how he could read her like she was his worn-out copy of his favorite sports manga. She had to admit though, he did find ways to make it worth it. Like when he said, “I might actually be able to help you with that one, if you want. I can make a little shout out for Miss Soju on my stream tonight. For a small price, of course.”

“You’re streaming tonight?” The girl perked up from poking at her noodles. Over the past three years, Jihoon had built up a cult following through Woozi’s Universe, a Twitch stream where he shared music made by the underground artists on campus (including him). He only ever released new music on Mondays, so tonight would definitely have a large viewership. Joohyun immediately went into her business pose lest she show how eager she really was. “Well, what would you like in exchange, Mr. Lee?”

“I merely request that you pay for my lunch today, Ms. So,” he replied. Joohyun looked in horror at Jihoon, a petite man who ate like he was three boys going through puberty; today alone he had had an extra-large bowl of ramen, three orders of rice, and two cans of Coke.

Then, she imagined facing an empty inbox for the rest of the week. Yup, this was definitely worth it. That didn’t stop her from making a show of taking out her wallet, taking care to sigh extra loudly. She had to give Jihoon his moment to revel in his triumphs, otherwise he would get grumpy.

Jihoon cackled giddily. “Pleasure doing business with you as always, Ms. So.”

“Pretty sure my hangover is coming back.”

“Oh shit, shut up!” Jihoon suddenly yelped and ducked underneath the table.

“What the hell, Jih--”

“No, don’t say my name! He might hear you and then I’ll have to talk to him,” Jihoon whispered, jerking his head towards a bright yellow blur skipping to the back of the restaurant. “He’s one of my fans. He found out I worked at the cafe and now he keeps coming in to talk to about how sad his sex life is.”

Joohyun pursed her lips and peeked a glance over. He had joined the table of rowdy boys. “Hmm, maybe I should say hi... he seems like a potential Miss Soju reader.”

“Just pay the check already, woman!”

The new interns at The Front were not the only students sporting hangovers that day. This can only be expected of the second week back at MU. Sunday night had been the explosive finale of a full week of department welcome parties, happy reunions, and lots and lots of alcohol. Some of the incoming freshmen were convinced that Mansae University was not actually a school, but a training ground for surviving as many shots of soju as physically possible. That is until they woke up on Monday morning and still had to drag themselves to their 9AM’s, suddenly faced with the reality of what college really was: an endless cycle of perpetual hangovers and school work that’s due way too soon.

This was all good news for the new ramen shop on campus, which had been serving the hoards of hungover zombies since 10AM. Vernon, who was in great pain from the night before, had been ambushed by his roommate after his morning class. He was brought to the restaurant under the pretense of curing his woes with a bowl of warm soup and noodles. When he caught sight of a man in red waiting for them at a back table though, he immediately knew what was actually coming.

“Hello Vernonnie,” Seungcheol greeted him with a sly smile. “Care to take a seat next to me?”

“Uh, not really,” Vernon mumbled, but he sat down anyway. He scrunched his nose at his roommate as the boy slumped into the seat in front of him. “Traitor.”

“Sorry babe, Seungcheol hyung promised me free lunch. Also, you’re one to talk, after you abandoned me to fend for myself last night--! Ugh,” his roommate, Seungkwan, clutched at his head, where a rusty hammer persistently tapped away at his temple. “Hyung, why did you do this to me? My face is gonna be bloated for the rest of the week. I have an audition in two days, you know!”

“Hey, I did ask you if you were sure you wanted-- what was that you ordered? Oh yeah-- ‘the strongest drink that is legal to serve in South Korea’!” Seungcheol said, his eyes wide. As he got more defensive, he began to point his finger excessively at Seungkwan. “And what was it all for? To impress your new crush?”

“I am way too hungover to get lectured by a couple of hypocrites,” Seungkwan grumbled. “I was trying to get some inspiration, you know, a drunken spark of genius! How else am I supposed to figure out how to confess to them?”

“Okay, I wasn’t actually asking,” Seungcheol ignored Seungkwan’s offended gasp in favor of turning his attention to a fidgeting Vernon. His cherry red lips now returned to its wide grin. “I am here to discuss where our dearest Vernon went off to last night.”

“Um.” Vernon answered with a nervous smile. “I just went home early--”

“Bullshit!” Seungkwan looked absolutely scandalized. “It wasn’t enough to abandon me, so now you’re lying too? I don’t know if I can take much more of this!”

Vernon had only officially known Seungkwan for two whole weeks, but with the way the two had been inseparable since move-in day, everyone at the freshmen dorms had assumed that they had known each other for years and years. He knew that someone like Boo Seungkwan was a rare find as far as random dorm assignments went, and that not everyone was so lucky to have a roommate that reminds them to eat real food once in a while or a friend who’s willing to take care of them when they get their first real hangover. Just for that day alone, Vernon knew that Seungkwan deserved to know where he went. Plus he shared a room with him, so it’s not like he could hide anything anyway.

Seungcheol shook his head and slung an arm around Vernon’s shoulder. His grip wasn’t tight but firm enough that Vernon knew he was trapped there until he confessed the truth. “Look, I don’t need any details! I just wanted to make sure that you’re staying safe and all that junk. Also, I would like to know what base you got to.” He erupted into a fit of giggles, but soon cleared his throat to return to his investigation. “Really though, tell us what happened.”

It wasn’t like Vernon didn’t want to tell Seungcheol either. Vernon’s and Seungcheol’s families had known each other since the two boys were in middle and high school, and when he found out that Seungcheol would be a senior at Mansae University that year, he felt some of his nerves ease up about moving out. Seungcheol had always been like an older brother to him, and was always there when he needed his help in high school. He trusted him!

That’s probably why he subconsciously blamed Seungcheol for the pain he was going through at the moment. When the upperclassman had offered to sneak Vernon and Seungkwan into a party at the karaoke bar that he bartended at, the two freshmen all too eagerly accepted without thinking of any consequences. They had received no pointers, no words of caution. How were they supposed to know that bar parties were completely different from welcome dinners? And how was Seungkwan supposed to know that downing so many cocktails within the hour wasn’t a good idea? Most importantly, how was Vernon supposed to know that he would meet someone like her there? Vernon groaned into his hands as he could no longer resist the flood of memories from the night before, and leaned into Seungcheol’s shoulder as he tried to recoil from his past self. “Hyung, it hurts too much to say out loud.”

“It’s okay buddy, take your time,” Seungcheol patted his head gently and called the tall server over. Vernon continued to let out unintelligible noises of regret while the senior ordered bowls for all three of them. “How are you even hungover right now? I only remember giving you one drink last night before you went off with--”

“I’m not hungover.”

“Oh. Then what are you?”

“An idiot,” Vernon mumbled through his fingers. “A big, cringy idiot.”

Seungkwan raised his hand, looking frantically between the two boys. “Excuse me? Did I miss the reading homework? Went off with who? Last night? What? How drunk was I?!”

“Very drunk, but that’s not why you didn’t notice Vernon’s new friend. You were a little occupied with your own conquest,” Seungcheol stage-whispered from across the table. “Honestly, you two are wild. It’s only two weeks into fall semester and you’re already out here simping.”

“Um, and? I saw you making googly eyes at several ladies last night!” The higher Seungkwan’s voice rose, the harder the rusty hammer banged inside his head. “Ow.”

“Those were just my friends who happened to be ladies! Sorry that my eyes are just naturally soft and alluring,” Seungcheol said, batting his long, dark lashes at the boy. “What were her eyes like, Vernon? I only noticed that she had a nose ring. Couldn’t really see her properly while you two were ‘talking’ in the corner...”

“The corner! A nose ring!” Seungkwan repeated and clutched at his chest. “Tell me more.”

“We were just talking!” Vernon finally spoke, his face stuck in an embarrassed grimace. “There’s not really much more to tell. I just know that she’s the coolest girl I’ve ever met and I’ll never meet anyone like her again.”

“What! You two were talking for like two hours! And I saw you leaving with her!” Seungcheol said a little too loudly for Vernon’s liking. The server gingerly approached their table with their orders, setting the bowls down as quickly as possible before rushing away. Vernon noted to give him a big tip when they left. “Don’t tell us that’s all.”

“I just dropped her off at her apartment and went back to the dorms,” Vernon confirmed to Seungcheol’s horror. “I really didn’t want it to be just last night.”

“So... you asked her out?”

“No.”

“You got her number?”

“No.”

“Her Instagram? Her Twitter? Her student ID number? Do you even know her name?”

“I already said I was an idiot,” Vernon whined. “This is exactly why I didn’t want to talk about it. But yes, I did at least get her name.”

It was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. She was the only thing he could think of since he woke up. The way her eyes had lit up while they talked about her major. The way her lips had curved into a clever smile when she told a joke. The way her small hand had fit in his as they walked to her apartment. Then, he would remember how he completely fucked it all up before he started, and his headache would return full-force.

“Dude.” Seungcheol fixed him with a stern stare, but it was kind of hard to take him seriously when his mouth was full of noodles. “Have you never asked a girl out before?”

“You know I have! I don’t know what happened either, okay? I guess I just froze up when she looked at me… then I just went home after telling her good night.”

Seungcheol feigned a gag. “Gross. I was joking earlier, but you’re an actual simp. Hate to break it to you like this.”

“I think it’s sweet,” Seungkwan piped up from where he comfortably rested his head on the table.

“That’s nice, Seungkwan, but ‘sweet’ isn’t gonna get either of you laid,” Seungcheol chuckled. “Vernon, your girl was clearly waiting for you to make the next move. Trust me, girls don’t just ask anyone to walk them home.”

“I didn’t want to look like a creep!” Vernon sullenly stared down at his untouched bowl of noodles. “What am I supposed to do now, hyung?”

“Yeah, lend us your wisdom, O Alluring One,” Seungkwan chanted. “You clearly have plenty of experience from the past three years.

“Like I said, I just have a lot of friends,” Seungcheol shrugged, then suddenly checked the time on his phone. “Oh shit-- speaking of friends, I have to meet one for a study session at her apartment in 15 minutes.”

“Sounds nasty.”

“Your mom’s nasty,” Seungcheol retorted with a provocative smile. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Boo! Then maybe you’d be able to think of how to confess.”

“Uncalled for!”

He placed several bills on the table and checked his phone again. “This should be enough to cover lunch, kiddos. I wish I could help you two, but I’m booked for the rest of the day. And the week.”

“But what if I meet her again?” Vernon asked desperately.

“Then text me! I might not reply right away though. I’ve got two classes later and then I have dinner plans--”

“Another girl I presume--”

“Shut up! I also have to go to the gym before doing… uh, doing a thing. And then I have a shift at 24H.” Seungcheol stood up and looked at the distressed boys before him, his soft eyes more affectionate than alluring. Was he like this as a freshman? He reached over to ruffle the freshmans' heads. “You two should probably leave soon, too. I’ll see y’all later!”

And just like that, Seungcheol was gone, and Vernon was once again left without any advice from the senior. Vernon was never one for dramatics, but his personal failures felt like a gray cloud of shame hanging over him. He began to worry that he was just gonna have to live like this forever, because nothing in the world was bright enough to break through his doom and gloom (well, her smile probably could, but Vernon was never going to see that again). The fact that Seungkwan seemed like he was about to Train to Busan his ass any minute now didn’t really lift his spirits either.

Lucky for him, the universe was not going to let him give up so easily. At that moment, a boy with glaringly yellow hair and a heavy camera on his shoulder bursted through the entrance. His smile brightened when he spotted the two boys in the back and he didn’t hesitate to bound towards them, skipping right past the server welcoming him in. “Seungkwan! I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dearest Vernon, it seems we have been joined by the lovely Soonyoung hyung. Perhaps he might know the medicine we require to ease our ailments in love,” Seungkwan suddenly stood up, all signs of his hangover expertly hidden. He smiled directly into the camera lens. “Hyung, would you kindly share your wisdom with us lowly freshmen? Pray tell, how does one woo the object of their affection?”

Vernon, who was well-acquainted with Seungkwan’s antics by then, watched on in silent amusement. If anything could distract him from his internal turmoil for a moment, it was Seungkwan; even if he was just spewing nonsense. What really made him crack up though, was the way Soonyoung (that was his name, right?) was clearly trying very hard to suppress his giggles. “Um,” Soonyoung managed to cut in breathlessly. “You know I’m not rolling, right? Also, I didn’t understand any of the words that just left your mouth, but it definitely felt like you were putting some sort of ancient curse on me. Hi, I’m Soonyoung by the way!”

Vernon introduced himself and shook Soonyoung’s hand. Seungkwan could only sigh in exasperation at Soonyoung’s lack of culture (not that he was surprised of course). The boy apparently thought it was a good fashion choice to leave his apartment wearing a tiger print button-up. “I was asking if you could help us out with confessing to our crushes,” Seungkwan said with a roll of his eyes.

“Ohh, that’s what you said!” Soonyoung laughed until he was keeled over, clutching his stomach. Vernon and Seungkwan could only watch him with great expectation. When the boy finally caught his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow, he gave the boys a very serious look. “Yeah, I haven’t gotten any since January. So you should probably ask someone else.”

This also did not surprise Seungkwan.

“Excuse me?” The tall server approached them again, clearly giving them his best ‘I hate working in retail’ smile. “If y’all are done eating, could you please leave? You’re disturbing the other customers.”

“I’m eating, I’m eating!” Soonyoung smiled until his cheeks reached his eyes, a power move that he saves for occasions where he found himself in trouble, which happened more often than he’d care to admit. Once the server let them be, muttering something about not getting paid enough, Soonyoung turned his killing smile onto the two boys. “Can I have some of this? I can Venmo y’all later, I’m pretty broke right now.”

Vernon pushed his uneaten ramen towards Soonyoung, who looked at him as if he was the sun itself. The boy carefully set down his film camera and immediately began slurping away. Vernon nodded his head towards the contraption and asked why he was carrying it around.

“Oh, I rented it before coming to find Seungkwan. I’m thinking about making him the subject of my film project this semester, since the theater program is pretty buzzed that he’s joining this year!” Soonyoung patted the camera affectionately.

“‘Thinking about?’ I thought I was your final choice!” Seungkwan blurted. The ramen he had for lunch seemed to have finally restored some of his strength, because he no longer clutched at his temple when his voice rose.

“I said ‘most likely’ choice! I just want to keep my options open,” Soonyoung responded with great care. He didn’t want to hurt Seungkwan’s feelings, but he was definitely re-evaluating alternate subjects at the moment. “It’s only the second week!”

“This is why you’re single,” the theater major said in a huff. “Lack of commitment!”

“Hey! I am perfectly capable of commitment. It’s the girls that don’t want to commit, ” Soonyoung said in a small voice, and looked off into the distance wistfully. “I really hope Woozi does put out a new song tonight. Maybe he’ll tweet something soon.”

“Woozi? Who’s that?” Vernon asked. At this point, he was just looking for anything that would fend off his memories, which lingered at the edges of his mind and waited for moments of silence to bring him another fresh glass of cringe. He was pretty sure that he had experienced well above the recommended daily serving.

“Oh, he’s a Twitch streamer from MU! I was actually gonna say if you two are really struggling in the love department, you should definitely check out his stream tonight.” Soonyoung nearly wiggled with enthusiasm. “He usually promotes songs from artists around the area, but his self-composed songs are my personal favorites. They’ve been what’s getting me through this dry spell, honestly.”

“Oh, that sounds pretty cool.” It sounded like it was right up Vernon’s alley, actually.

Soonyoung nodded. “You listen to them and you just feel hopeful to find the kind of love he sings about. I’ll send you the link later!”

“Underground artists? No thanks, I think I’ll stick to Eva Noblezada,” Seungkwan scoffed. “I don’t really think a stranger can help me with my problems. They don’t even know me.”

“Oh come on, Kwan. Let’s just give it a shot!”

Even after all his grumbling, Seungkwan still sat beside Vernon at one of the desks in their dorm later that night. They had opened the link Soonyoung had sent them, and munched on some snacks while they waited for the stream to start up. Vernon waited with baited breath for his distraction to begin; he had spent most of the day attempting to wall off any thoughts of her or last night, but it was kind of difficult to think of anything else when all of his professors only droned on and on about quizzes and homework.

When a boy with fair skin and burgundy hair came into frame, he nearly sighed in relief. The streamer appeared to be sitting in a small, dark office only illuminated by his computer screen and several pink neon signs that hung on the walls. Vernon could recognize the faint outlines of several guitars and a keyboard behind him. The boy clicked around for a while as more people joined the stream before finally waving into the camera.

“Hi guys, welcome in! Thanks for joining Woozi’s Universe. If you’re new here, I’m Woozi and I like to write songs sometimes. If you’re an old subscriber, I’m really sorry for the long wait. I’ve been working on a lot of projects, doing some collabs - I’ll actually be releasing one of those collabs tonight and I’m really excited for you guys to hear it. If you have any new songs you want to listen to together, go ahead and leave them in the chat!”

As soon as the stream started flowing, Vernon immediately knew why Soonyoung gave Woozi such rave reviews. The guy just had good vibes and he definitely knew his music. Vernon was hooked. Even Seungkwan, try as he might to look disinterested, couldn’t help bopping his head occasionally.

“Thanks for the subscription @chweinggum! You just helped me reach my tenth new sub for tonight, and you guys know what that means. Time for the new song! It was really fun to write this with my collaborator, so we really hope you like it!”

After spending the past hour just vibing in Woozi’s Universe, discovering new songs and artists, Vernon had really hyped himself up to hear the streamer’s personal work. If Soonyoung’s words were true, this would be the song that would truly heal his heartache, the song that would push him to forget about the whole ordeal. He listened in anticipation as pleasant harmonies played through his laptop speakers. But as the song progressed, Vernon did not quite feel the reprieve he was hoping for. In fact, he was kind of taken aback. The lyrics… felt like they told his story. Maybe not word for word, but enough to make Vernon stare at the laptop screen with his mouth open. What kind of hocus pocus, That’s So Raven, mind reading shit was this? The song broke down the walls he had tried to build throughout the day and left him vulnerable to its strangely upbeat and energetic tune.

He had to admit that he didn’t hate it. The cringe from his own actions did not disappear, but the song helped him focus more on the moments that made his heart flutter, the moments that incited those pesky butterflies in his stomach. They were the moments that made him so hard on himself in the first place and the reasons why it hurt so much that he messed up. She had made him feel seen. She had done everything right. And all he wanted to do was to show her that he saw her too. He just had to figure out how.

Woozi clapped his hands loudly when the song came to an end, bringing Vernon out of his deep reverie. “And that was Pretty U by yours truly! I collaborated on it with an artist who doesn’t want to be named as of now, so I’ll just say it was great to work with such a talented person and I hope to work with them again soon! Anyway, we know the lyrics are pretty cheesy, but let’s just say it’s based on a juvenile romance! I tried capturing that giddy feeling of liking someone and wanting to tell them pretty words but losing confidence at the last second. I’m sure we’ve all been there before.”

Vernon sat up, nodding his head as if Woozi could see him. After his song scanned his soul like that, Vernon figured it wasn’t impossible.

“I know that some of my subscribers listen to me because they go through these kinds of hardships. But I wanted to say that my songs can’t fix everything. Even I go through it sometimes and I need someone to lean on. There’s actually a new thing I just found out about from a friend - ‘Dear Miss Soju’. It’s a column that they’re gonna start publishing on The Front’s website, and you can anonymously write in all your burning questions about love, relationships, or sex. So if you’re having a hard time confessing like in this song, just know that there’s someone out there to help you out!

“Since you’ll be anonymous, you can write about your heart’s deepest desires, even if it’s a little freaky. Yes, I’m talking to you, user @callmesoon, please stop trying to tell me about your sex life. Anyway, I’ll put the email in the description for anyone that’s interested!” Woozi paused to laugh at several of the comments. “No guys, The Front does not sponsor me. But I can tell you about a company that does sponsor me. Hello Fresh--”

Seungkwan closed the laptop and sighed. “Well, that didn’t help me at all. Soonyoung hyung said this Woozi guy was gonna make me feel better, but now he’s just telling us to spilll all our secrets to some other stranger. What a scam! Right, Vernon? Vernon?”

By the time Seungkwan turned to look at his friend, Vernon was already writing his second draft for his email. The boy sighed again. Maybe he could give it a shot.

The next morning, Joohyun opened up her laptop to find thirteen emails in her inbox. She smiled.

Now she could get to work.

32 notes · View notes

bethpeaches123 · 3 years

Text

Oh, it’s you.

So I had an idea rolling around in my brain for a little while, and then a real-life situation presented itself that was eerily similar to this, and instead of acting on it in real life, I’m acting on it in fanfiction form. Because it’s less risky, ha. Here’s some enemies to friends to luvers. I’ve also posted it on AO3 for your reading pleasure. :) Enjoy! I would love some feedback too!

“Thanks,” said Katniss Everdeen briskly to the Uber driver in the front seat of the red Corolla. He grunted his acknowledgement in response as her hand grasped the door handle and pushed the rear passenger-side door open, swinging her slender legs out onto the sidewalk. She leaned back into the car and grabbed the bottle of wine off the seat, then ducked out and straightened up, slamming the car door closed as it drove off.

Turning to face the towering brick townhouse belonging to her cousin Gale and her childhood best friend Madge, Katniss squared her shoulders and took a deep breath.

“You don’t have to stay all night. Just a couple of hours,” she muttered to herself. “That’s like…four half-hours. Or...six twenty-minute periods…or 12 ten-minute chunks…or…anyway, whatever. Just do it. It’s Madge’s birthday, she wants you to be here, just suck it up.”

The night wind suddenly swelled, a gust whooshing past her, stirring up a pile of dead brown leaves around her feet that had fallen from the maple tree on their tiny front lawn. She realized with a start that she probably looks a little crazy to any onlookers, standing on the sidewalk in front of a picturesque townhouse after dark, staring up at it and muttering irritatedly to herself.

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “You’ve gotta get out more, you’re losing it being alone in that apartment all the time,” she muttered again, before stopping and shaking her head. You’re doing it again; quit talking to yourself already and just go inside, she thought.

She adjusted the crossbody strap of her clutch (the bright gold colour was out of character for her, but it was a gift from her sister and the nicest purse she owned) and curled the loose strands of dark chocolate hair that had slipped free from her side braid behind her ears. Smoothing her forest green shirt dress down over her slim frame, she tweaked the braided brown leather belt around her waist and absently brushed a piece of lint from the right thigh of her black tights, glancing down at her camel-coloured heeled booties.

She wasn’t entirely sure of the dress code of the evening, but at twenty-five, they were still at that age of being grownups, but not totally grownups, if that made sense; they were old enough to legally drink the copious amounts of liquor they downed at one of Gale and Madge’s house parties, but they were still young enough to thankfully not feel the full force of a crippling hangover the next day.

Hopefully this looks okay, she thought. Who are you trying to impress anyway? Stop. Stalling, she grumbled internally.

Irritated was her mood of the night and the night was only just beginning.

Clutching the bottle of wine with the golden bow on the neck, she pulled open the wrought-iron gate and proceeded up the short staircase to the house.

Leaning over and pressing the doorbell off to the right of the heavy black door, she glanced up at the night sky over her left shoulder and her eyes flickered to the wind blowing in the trees again. It was a warm night for the end of October – so warm she’d left her jacket at home and opted for just the long-sleeved dress. It wasn’t like she was walking anywhere. She’d take an Uber home later.

Katniss could hear the sounds of an upbeat indie tune floating through the open living room bay window off to the left. Her eyes flicked back to the front just in time to hear a voice on the other side of the door, where it swung open to reveal the guest of honour for the evening.

“Katniss! Hey! God, I’m so glad you’re here – Gale was wondering when you were going to show. Now maybe he’ll finally shut up,” said Madge, her smile spreading across her face and reaching her arms out to hug her best friend.

“Sorry I’m late,” said Katniss sheepishly, squeezing her back. “Carl the Uber driver wasn’t as prompt as the app said he’d be. He won’t be getting five stars from me tonight.”

Madge’s grin grew. “No matter – you’re here now, that’s what counts,” replied the pretty blonde. Her eyes softened as she looked at her old friend, hesitating. “How are you doing? How’s…everything? After…everything last week?”

“I’m okay. Really. It’s getting better every day.” Katniss said, quietly. She really didn’t want to go into details right here, right now. Or ever. The evening was supposed to be a happy occasion, for Madge. Katniss didn’t want to get into the depressing details of the collapse of her relationship with her long-time boyfriend Darius a few weeks before and the messy division of their things when he moved out of their shared apartment.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that...listen, I know it’s not the time or place, so I won’t pry, but please, let’s go for coffee again this week. You can bitch all you want about how much of a douchebag he is, and I’ll happily reassure you how you’re so much better without him,” said the birthday girl wryly.

“Deal,” replied Katniss, a small smile on her lips. “Here – this is for you,” holding up the bottle of Nova 7 that she knew Madge loved. “I know technically I should’ve gotten you champagne for your champagne birthday, but I thought you’d like this more.”

“Oh my God you’re my favourite person, you know that, right?” squealed Madge. “I mean, besides Gale, but whatever – where did you get this?! I’ve been trying all the liquor stores around town and they said they haven’t gotten a shipment in ages!”

“I had it specially ordered from their website! I’m glad you’re happy – I love you, but I’m never going through that hassle again. Customs are a bitch,” grimaced Katniss. Getting the white wine shipped from Canada seemed a bit much, but 25 was a big birthday and Madge had been Katniss’s best friend ever since they’d been paired together in Mr. Heffernan’s English Lit class in sixth grade. She deserved to be on the receiving end of a splurge.

“Well, you and I are going to drink this together tonight – no one else gets a drop,” beamed Madge. “Come on, I’ll stick it in the back of the fridge so no one can get at it before we do.”

She stepped over the threshold into the front porch and started to toe off her booties when Madge glanced down and stopped her. “No, no, leave them on, they’re part of your whole outfit. You look really good tonight, by the way,” she said, appraisingly. “I mean, not that you don’t usually, but, y’know, dresses are kinda rare for you. I’m babbling. Ignore me. It’s the wine. Come get a glass or three and start drinking with me please,” pleaded Madge as she turned back towards the kitchen down the hall and spotted her new husband. “Gale! Gale, Katniss is here! Get her a glass of Riesling, ASAP!”

“Hey Catnip! Good to see you – finally,” smirked Gale as he strode down the front hall towards them, but Katniss could see gentle concern in his eyes. He didn’t think you’d show, she thought to herself. She mentally huffed at her cousin.

“Obviously I’m here, it’s not like I’d miss my best friend’s birthday,” she said, somewhat shortly.

“Oh – of course not, I know that, I j-just...anyway, I’m glad you’re here. There’s a taco dip with your name on it so I hope you came hungry,” her older cousin stammered, glancing at his wife for reinforcement.

Both he and Madge seemed a little on edge at her presence, like they were afraid anything they’d say would set her off in some way. She knew they were only worried about her since the breakup, but it still irritated her to think that their shared glances probably meant they’d been talking about her before she’d shown up. Katniss hated being the centre of anyone’s attention or gossip.

It’s not gossip; they’re concerned about you because they love you, Prim’s voice popped in her head. Her younger sister was always her voice of reason and regularly called her out when she got in her own head and complained about people being interested in her personal life. With Prim on the other side of the country in medical school at Stanford though, she wasn’t here in person to call her out. But Katniss knew her as well as she knew herself, and knew it was exactly what Prim would say in this situation.

Steeling herself and wiping the scowl off her face, Katniss offered Gale a small, embarrassed smile and said, “I was really hoping you’d make your famous taco dip. I skipped dinner specifically for it.”

A flicker of relief passed over his face and Gale turned and gestured for her to follow him towards the dining room down the hall as Madge returned to the living room filled with guests. “I even covered it in extra shredded old cheddar, your favourite,” he grinned.

“Mmmm, hell yes. Where are the chips? I’m digging in right away,” she said eagerly, following behind him.

As they bypassed the living room and entered the dining room, she glanced back towards the front of the house and scanned the crowd. There was already a decent number of people here, some faces she recognized like old college pals Rue, Thom and Thresh, but others she’d never seen before. Gale’s work friends, probably, she thought absently.

“Is Joanna coming?” Katniss asked, turning her attention back towards the spread of food. “I haven’t talked to her all week. I meant to text her earlier, but I forgot.”

“Yep, she said she’s coming by once she’s finished at the office. Some big case she’s working on or something,” Gale replied. “Let me get you that Riesling, I’ll be right back,” as he turned towards the kitchen, leaving her to focus on the food. Grabbing a plate from the stack off to the left, she started piling taco dip onto it, her mouth watering in anticipation.

“Yeesh, Everdeen – leave some for the rest of us, why don’t you?” drawled a familiar voice.

Oh no. Not him, she groaned inwardly, the flush of annoyance rising up her neck and spreading across her face. She stiffened as she heard him chuckle softly and reluctantly turned to face the speaker.

“Oh, it’s you. Hello Peeta,” she said politely. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“Why? Obviously I’d come to celebrate Madge. Besides, would you have stayed home and not graced us with your presence had you’d known?” Peeta smirked.

“Hmm, something like that,” she replied, pursing her lips before continuing reluctantly. “How are you? How are Delly and Connor? He must be, what, three now?” enquiring after his wife and son.

“…Yeah, he’s three now. Three and a half, actually, as he’ll tell you. Time flies when you’re having fun,” Peeta replied grimly, averting his eyes from her face. Confused at his response, Katniss was saved from having to reply by Gale appearing to their sides with her glass of wine.

“One Riesling for the lady. Hey Peeta, what can I get you? Beer? Liquor? Something to wipe that sour expression off your face?” asked Gale, wryly.

“Beer is fine, thanks Gale,” the wavy-haired blond replied. “I have to have something that’ll help wash down this taco dip, if Katniss doesn’t eat it all first.”

Katniss scowled at him. “Chill out, Mellark, there’s plenty there. I barely took any,” she retorted. Grabbing her plate and piling on a handful of nacho chips quickly, she turned and carried the plate and her glass of wine away from the irritating man before he could respond. Fuck, he’s such a dick, she stewed. Why does he have to be related to Madge?

Peeta Mellark and Madge Undersee-Hawthorne were indeed cousins, but he was also a former classmate of theirs from junior high and high school. It wasn’t like he and Katniss were friends though – they couldn’t have been further from that. Complete opposites throughout their early days, Peeta was a popular jock who seemed to get along with everyone. Everyone except quiet, kept-to-herself Katniss.

She had no idea why he never warmed to her – she’d sometimes catch him staring at her across the classroom or in the hallways, but he rarely spoke to her throughout their academic careers. She’d usually shoot him a puzzled look in return, because that’s exactly what he did to her – puzzled her.

Stupid Peeta Mellark. Why did he have to be here? And where was his wife, Delly? Katniss hadn’t laid eyes on the blonde bitch yet, but she was sure she’d know when she entered the room because the temperature would probably drop to below freezing, just like Delly’s chilly demeanour.

Katniss was never friends with Peeta, but she never understood what he saw in Delly. What was the title of that book she’d seen in Barnes & Noble one time? Why Men Marry Bitches? Maybe someone should’ve picked up a copy for Peeta Mellark because he could use some psychoanalysis as to why he married someone so horrible. Though, considering what she’d heard about the elder Mrs. Mellark while in school, maybe someone should pick up a book called Why Men Marry Their Mothers for him instead.

She moved through the crowd towards Rue and Thresh, when a flash of short brown hair caught her eye in the main hallway. “Jo! In here!” she waved to the petite brunette in a black pencil skirt and crisp white collared shirt. Johanna was her and Madge’s former college roommate-turned-other-best-friend who was currently kicking ass working at the hottest law firm in the city. She was fresh out of law school and had to article for a year before she could pass the bar and be a full lawyer, but the partners at her firm were already so impressed by her drive and her no-holds-barred attitude, they’d already offered her a position once she’d passed the bar in a few months’ time.

“Hey Kitty-cat, how goes it?” said Johanna, snaking her arm around Katniss’ shoulders in a side hug. “Ooh, gimmie that, I earned a big drink after the freakin’ day I’ve had,” pulling the glass of wine from her friend’s hand and taking a big gulp, then grimacing. “Ugh, never mind, I forgot you like girly drinks. I need something harder tonight.”

“Wine is sophisticated, thank you very much. Rough day?” Katniss asked sympathetically, taking the glass back and swallowing a mouthful of the cold, sweet liquid.

“Fuck me, it was brutal. This lawsuit is gonna be the death of me and I’m not even a lawyer yet,” Johanna groaned. “If I have to read through one more brief, I’m gonna stab my eyeballs out and shove them down the managing partner’s throat.”

“Graphic, but okay, sure,” winced Katniss. Jo was never one to hold back with her…colourful language. “Here comes Gale – give him your drink order, he’ll get you sorted.”

“Hey Jo, want a whiskey?” asked Gale as he approached, sizing up the brunette’s irritated expression.

“You read my mind, Hawthorne. Make it a triple? Or will we all judge me?” Jo drawled, glancing at her friends.

“Nah, the night is young. We’re celebrating!” Gale grinned. “ice, right?”

“Yep, thanks. So, Kitty, how are you? Finally feeling free of that douche canoe, Darius? Jesus, I’m so glad that’s finally over. You were way too good for him.”

“I can always count on you to not mince words. Jesus,” Katniss shot back. She knew Johanna hadn’t been Darius’s biggest fan, but now that they were broken up, she didn’t hold back on voicing her dislike of him.

“Well, at least you didn’t marry him. Divorces are messy. Though, you would’ve had me as your lawyer and I would’ve milked that fucker for everything he had, so maybe it’s a bit of a loss. I would’ve enjoyed that,” smirked Jo.

“God, you’re unbelievable,” sighed Katniss, but she said it with a small smile. Even though her bark was bad, Jo’s bite wasn’t. Katniss knew it was her friend’s way of showing concern and care for her.

“Whatever, you know you love me. Hey, is that Peeta? I saw his bitchy wife when I came in but didn’t see him,” Johanna said, gazing towards the dining room.

“Ugh, yes. What a tool. I was barely in the room when he started harassing me about taking too much taco dip. I’m pretty sure every one of our friends knows that taco dip was made with me in mind – Gale knows it’s my favourite.” Katniss grumbled.

“Well, maybe he needs a reminder. You can tell him yourself, because he’s headed this way.”

“Ugh, fuck me.” Katniss groaned, her eyes rolling back into her head.

“Sorry Everdeen, I’m a married man,” smirked Peeta, coming up behind her, a bottle of Stella Artois in his grasp.

Katniss flushed at his response, while Johanna smiled blandly at the young man. “I wonder for how much longer,” she muttered under her breath so that only Katniss could hear. Katniss’s brow furrowed at the comment, but brushed it off. Odd.

“Ah, Peeta. Everyone’s favourite prick,” smirked Johanna as she raised her voice, her eyes flicking between Katniss and the tall, brawny blond.

Katniss snorted. “What a lovely description, Jo. Very flattering.”

Peeta shot Katniss an irritated look before turning back to Johanna. “Nice to see you too, Jo. How’s life at your hot shot firm? Madge tells me your bosses love you.”

“Yeah, I think it’s more so that they’re afraid of me. Which I’m fine with. Men need intimidation a lot more than they realize.” Johanna replied, smugly.

“Well, you’ve got that covered then,” Katniss piped up.

“Speaking of intimidating women, Mellark, where’s your wife? Still got your balls in a vise or what?”

“Jo! Jesus.” Katniss blurted, her eyes wide and flickering to Peeta to gage his reaction. She didn’t like Peeta, but she also didn’t like awkward conversations about people’s relationships. Or any kind of conversation about relationships.

Peeta stiffened slightly at Joanna’s remark and drew his mouth in a thin line. “She’s over there talking to some co-worker of Gale’s. She’s fine.”

“Really? That’s not what Madge sa-,”

“Jo, I think Gale is waving at you – he’s got your whiskey,” Katniss interrupted. If there was one thing that could shut Johanna up, it was the promise of liquor.

“Finally, be right back,” Johanna threw over her shoulder as she strode towards Gale in the dining room.

Peeta glanced at Katniss, a slight frown on his face, which she ignored. She was eager to move away from the subject of his wife. “How’s Connor? How old did you say he was again?” she asked, nervously. She realized too late that by drawing Johanna’s attention to Gale and her drink, she was leaving herself alone with the person she despised the most at the party. Great. Just when I thought I’d escaped him, I land myself in another conversation with him. Good one, Everdeen.

“…Um…he’s three and a half…what was Johanna talking about? What did Madge say about Delly?”

Katniss pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed on it, stalling. “Oh, nothing. She just…she said Delly seemed a little off lately, that’s all. I think she was concerned.”

Peeta snorted. “Concerned. Sure she was. You’re a terrible liar, Everdeen,” he said, bitterly.

Katniss glanced at him again, thinking awkwardly about the conversation she’d had with Madge the week before. Madge had made a passing comment to her and Jo about Delly being bitchier than usual and said Peeta seemed withdrawn and moody. It wasn’t really Delly she was concerned about; it was her cousin. Peeta wasn’t a bitter person. But ever since he and Delly married a few months before Connor’s birth, almost four years ago, they’d all seen a shift in him. He was friendly to everyone (except Katniss, of course) but there was an edge to him that hadn’t been there before. It seemed to be getting more and more pronounced as time went on.

Why do you care if he’s out of sorts? She didn’t, really. She was just curious. Even though he wasn’t nice to her, he was generally nice to everyone else, so to see him so bitter confused Katniss. Not that she cared, though. Because she didn’t. Really.

“Yeah, well, ask her yourself then. Excuse me, I need a refill.” Katniss said shortly, turning and leaving him alone for the second time that night.

_________________________________

The night wore on, with Katniss managing to avoid Peeta for the most part, sticking to chatting with Johanna or Madge or one of their other college friends. When she noticed Madge’s wine glass empty at the same time as hers as they were both pleasantly buzzed, she said, smiling, “what do you think, Mrs. Hawthorne? Time to crack open the Nova?”

“Excellent idea, Ms. Everdeen. Would you do the honours?” beamed Madge, her eyes a little glassy by now. The two of them made their way to the kitchen, where a few other people were already gathered, chatting. Katniss pulled open the refrigerator door and poked her head in, searching for the bottle of imported wine, but didn’t see it.

“Where’d you put it, Madge? Did you forget to put it in?” she asked.

“No, it’s in there, I swear – you know I love it super cold.” Madge replied breezily.

“What are you looking for?” asked another voice.

“A bottle of wine I brought for Madge– ” started Katniss, turning around and stopping, her eyes on Peeta Mellark.

And the bottle of Nova 7.

The empty bottle of Nova 7.

“…what the fuck. Are you KIDDING me right now? Did you open and DRINK that?!” Katniss screeched. “Are you actually kidding me?? Fuck you, Mellark!! Do you know what I went through to get that for her?!” She could feel hot tears forming in her eyes, catching her off guard.

Peeta had started to smirk, but when he saw her face, he faltered and his mouth dropped open slightly. “I didn’t–I thought–Gale said there was white wine in–we didn’t–” he stammered, his eyes darting to his wife’s, then back to Katniss's. Katniss hadn’t noticed Delly off to the side, her hand clutching an almost empty wine glass.

“What’s the big deal, it’s just a bottle of wine, there’s plenty here,” said the blonde woman testily as she rolled her eyes. “Personally, I never saw the appeal of Canadian wines. There are so many better brands from Australia or Spain. Canada’s not even that foreign; they’re like, right next door.”

Madge groaned and launched into Delly and Peeta, shouting about the importance of the special birthday gift to the oblivious couple. Katniss tuned her out as she could feel the heat rising in her neck up through her face. She was already having a shitty day moping over Darius and didn’t even want to come to the party in the first place; she definitely didn’t want to have to deal with stupid Peeta Mellark and his stupid bitch wife; and the only thing she’d been looking forward to was sharing the bottle with her best friend.

And the two of them had ruined it.

She had to get out of there before the tears spilled over and she embarrassed herself in front of them. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the room without a backwards glance.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

#katniss everdeen #Peeta Mellark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #enemies to lovers

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kiarasflowr · 4 years

Text

Kiara Carrera Imagine. True love has a habit of coming back. Authors note: I haven’t gone back and proof read so I apologize if there are any errors. Honestly I’m just hyped about getting this posted.

At the age of sixteen, love had taken hold of your heart for the very first time. It was different than the way you loved family, or a friend, it was so much more. And you didn’t find it in the boy with shaggy brown hair, or the one with baby blue eyes. You found it in the girl, with chocolate brown eyes and a pretty smile.

You met her a year prior, walking on the sand which belonged to the beach. She had strayed away from her friends, and upon running into you, had insisted on accompanying you for the rest of the day. The two of you used the time to soak in the sun, breathing in the ocean air as you unraveled each other. And when the night crept up on you, the sunset turning into a dark shade of blue, she walked you home, where she scribbled her number onto your wrist and kissed your cheek goodnight.

From that moment forward, you spent nearly every day together, a friendship blossoming between the two of you. Friendship soon turned into more, though, when feelings came into the picture. The one thing you wanted, Kiara wanted just as much, and so a new label took shape for both of you – lovers.

For two years, she was your person. The one who made you laugh when you wanted to cry, the one who knew all of your secrets, the one who held your hand when you were scared, the one who held your hair back when you were sick on the bathroom floor. Kiara was there to love you on every good day and every bad day.

She was never afraid to show you off or spill out all of her love for you. And for every minute you spent together, you adored one another, memorizing features, touches, words, moments that would forever be embedded in your mind and heart.

It was young love, and it burned so brightly, the flames of it wrapping you up in its warm arms. But just as any other thing caught up in flames, like any other fire that burned, it died out, becoming only a pocket of smoke that took the breath from your lungs and left you dry, scarred by its once so high heat.

You’d grown older, college and higher responsibilities coming into view. And while you loved the ocean and the people you’d known and loved, you knew what was best for you wouldn’t be found in the Outer Banks.

Just as your parents did, you wanted more for yourself. You didn’t want to be stuck in the cut, working until you fell to your knees, living in a place that never really felt like home. So, when the opportunity arised for you to leave and start fresh hundreds of miles away from the place you grew up, you jumped for it — even if it terrified you. Even if it meant leaving the girl you loved behind.

After your senior year, you spent that last summer with Kiara and the pogues, indulging in adventure and moments that made your heart swell. You lived each day of those three months like it was your last, letting yourself drown in every moment and every feeling. You loved deeper than you ever had before, cried harder, held on tighter, because you knew you’d be leaving all of this in the rear view mirror.

Nothing could prepare you, though, for the day you were meant to say goodbye. Nothing could prepare you for the ache in your chest, your heart heavy with the realization of what you’d be losing. But you pushed yourself through, packing your car with what little you owned, plastering on a smile for those who surrounded you in your last hour.

Your parents were the first to bid their goodbyes, not wanting to linger too long. Then came your friends, who each gave you their best wishes and left you with warm hugs and a good luck goodie basket. Kiara was last.

To see her, standing before you with water clouded eyes and red stained cheeks, it tore you apart. She was mere inches apart from you, scared to touch you because she knew it would be the last time. Her lips were in a pout, wavering as she struggled to keep her tears from spilling out.

“Kie...” You took a small step closer, concern and sadness lacing your voice. Her eyes closed, her chest rising as she inhaled a deep breath of air. When she opened them, your reflection glistening in her chocolate brown eyes, she closed off the distance between your bodies, wrapping her arms around your waist.

Her head was buried into the fabric of your shirt, but she spoke anyways, “I wish you would stay here, with me.”

“I know, baby, I know. Believe me, the last thing I want is to leave you, but you know me better than anyone, so, you know just how much I need this.”

Despite you thinking it wasn’t even possible, her arms tightened around you. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just don’t want to say goodbye.”

“Neither do I. But Kie, we’ve always known that this time would come. And for what it’s worth, I promise to keep in touch. We can call, or text, hell, I’ll even write you letters.”

Kiara sighed and lifted her head from its previous placement on your chest, “Promise?”

“Yes, of course. I promise.”

A faint smile tugged at her lips, the atmosphere filling with silence. You couldn’t help but smile yourself, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear before cupping her cheeks with your hands. She leaned into your warmth, her eyes fluttering in content.

“I love you, so much. Don’t ever forget that.”

“I love you too, Y/n. Always.”

Your gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips, “Can I kiss you? One last time?”

She didn’t respond, simply nodding her head before pressing her lips to yours in a gentle but passionate, lingering kiss. When it felt as if the air from your lungs had emptied, you leaned away, pressing your forehead against hers. As a tear slid down her cheek, you brushed it away with your thumb.

“Don’t forget me, okay?”

“Never.” Pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead, you felt the warmth of her hold disappear and she stepped back. “Goodbye, Kie.”

Kiara only gave you a soft smile, waving you off as you settled into the drivers seat of your car. With her standing still in your rear view mirror, you started the ignition and gave her one last glance, before stepping on the pedal and driving off into what would be your future.

The next four years passed by quickly, though for the first few months it wasn’t easy. Missing Kiara and everything you left behind came in waves, and the nights were lonely. But as time passed you by, the pain slowly drifted away. You were twenty two now, living in a one bedroom apartment near the city, graduating college with a bachelor’s degree.

You had your fair share of flings through out the years, but nobody ever compared to Kiara, though you never gave anyone a chance. You’d become accustomed to being alone, rather content actually.

On occasion though, you couldn’t help but indulge in memories, especially the ones you made with Kiara. For the first few months after you left, you managed to keep in touch, calling every other night and sending texts in between. But as you grew busier and Kiara filled her time with other people, it came to a stop. Neither of you had heard from each other at all for the past three years. It was the classic tale of friends turned lovers, lovers turned strangers. Strangers with memories of what once was.

You couldn’t even remember the last time you spoke to any of your friends. You often wondered where life took them, where life took Kiara. But your curiosity never made you pick up the phone, so you simply imagined a life for each of them — a life with happiness, success, and love. At least you hoped they each had that. You even wondered if they thought about you, if they wondered about you. Or maybe, if they forgot about you.

After your graduation, your parents, who were still located in the same old house in the Outer Banks, reached out to you. And not too long after, you booked a ticket to visit them. While you had only planned to reunite with family, there was a part of you that hoped you’d be reuniting with your old friends. The possibility of seeing Kiara again, though, after all this time, absolutely terrified you.

But when you got off the ferry, a suitcase in tow, the fresh ocean air filling the atmosphere around you, you felt at peace. You were more than ready to have your break from the big city, to relax and familiarize yourself with all that you left behind.

The minute you arrived on the doorstep to your childhood home, your mother dragged you inside, wrapping you up in her arms. Your father wasn’t far behind you, carrying in your suitcase and giving you a pat on the back.

“We missed you so much.” Your mom smiled up at you, the smile on her face bright but her eyes filled to the brink with tears.

“Mom, please don’t cry.” You chuckled and rubbed her back in comfort. She sighed and separated herself from you, giving you a full once over.

“Gosh, my baby looks so grown up.”

“That’s what happens when you get older, mom.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get sassy with me.” The two of you laughed together, before suddenly your smile faltered in rememberance of Kiara.

In notice of your expression, your mother and father exchanged knowing looks. “Honey... you should go to her.”

Suddenly, despite the lingering dread, your chest bubbled with hope. “She’s still here?”

“She never left. Go. Dinner’ll be ready when you get back.”

“Thank you.” With a nod of appreciation, you rushed out the door, not hesitating to run to the one place you knew best — the chateau. Even if years had passed, you hoped that everyone held together without you. You hoped that you’d show up at John B’s door, and Kiara would be there, just like old times.

Your feet ached by the time you arrived at his doorstep, but you straightened your posture and flattened out your wrinkled clothing, knocking on the wood before you. Within seconds, the door swung open to reveal John B himself.

“Oh my god. Y/n?” A smile immediately tugged at his lips, and before you could even get a word in, he pulled you into his arms, lifting you off of your feet as he spun you. Once you were back on your feet in front of him, you looked up at him with hopeful eyes.

“As much as I’ve missed the whole gang... um, is Kiara around?”

“I figured you’d ask that. She’s not here at the moment, if that’s what you’re asking. But I do believe she’s down by the water, with Jj.”

“Thank you. I’ll uh, come back, okay? I just really need to see her.”

John B nodded knowingly and pushed you playfully out the door. You gave him a smile over your shoulder before heading off in the direction to the beach. You didn’t run this time, choosing to take it slow. Every second it took you to get down to the water felt so much longer, your mind in chaos.

But when you stepped into the sand, two blurry figures in your view, you felt as if you might explode with excitement. You quickened your pace as you heard her laugh in the distance, Jj splashing her with the cold ocean water. As you got closer, your presence becoming known, Jj’s head turned in your direction. Just as with John B, a smile spread across his face at his realization. Kiara had yet to turn around, though, as you came to a stop in the damp sand.

“Uh, Kie, turn around.” Jj made a circle motion with his finger, gesturing toward where you stood still. Kiara’s features furrowed in confusion as she spun around, her eyes landing on your sunlit frame. There was a faint, hesitant smile on your lips, fear of her reaction settling in.

“Y/n?” There was a hoarseness to her voice, your name brushing past her lips in a mutter. But when your presence fully settled, she laughed, a warm smile adorning her features. Suddenly her legs were carrying her over to you, her arms wrapping around you without hesitancy. “You came back.”

You couldn’t help the tears of joy that flooded your eyes as you held her, breathing in her familiar coconut scented shampoo. “Of course I came back.”

Just like the day you left, she looked up at you with her big brown eyes. But this time, there was something else gleaming in them — she was happy.

“I missed you, every day. I- I thought you forgot about me, you know? I thought I’d never see you again.” There was a crack in her words as she spoke. You shook your head and cupped her cheek.

“I could never forget about you, Kiara Carrera. I don’t think I ever even stopped loving you.”

“Me too.” Kiara examined your face, memorizing the features that had slowly slipped from your mind over the years. You were so much more beautiful than she remembered.

“Can I kiss you?”

Her words caught you by surprise, but you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about kissing her again since the day you left.

“Yes. Please kiss me.”

Within milliseconds, her lips were on yours. It was different than your last kiss, filled with a sense of longing and need. She still tasted like berries, though. Her hands were tangled in your hair and the warmth of her mostly bare skin had enveloped you. When she pulled away, you tugged your bottom lip in with your teeth, the taste of her chapstick on your tongue.

“How long will you be staying?”

“Actually, I was thinking maybe I come back here, permanently. Settle down and all that.”

Kiara squeezes your hand in hers, her smile spreading. Even Jj was smiling big behind her. “Really?”

“Yeah, really. Definitely.”

Taglist @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge @harrysbbby @pogue-writings @shawnssongs @maybe-maybanks @maybankdreams @thelocalpogue @maybankiara @bluebirdsbluebells @outrbanks @milaonthemoon @calumbroutledge @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @blueeyedbesson @heywards @jjmaybankx @kitluvs1 @ssjiara @downbytheouterbanks @thorsangel @drewstarkey @poguemacking @pixelated-pogues

#obx #outerbanks #lgbt #kiaracarrera #imagine #fic #kiaraxreader #romance #kiaracarreraxreader #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #teen #loveislove #love #johnbroutledge #jjmaybank #popeheyward #sarahcameron

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ryqoshay · 3 years

Text

Tri-Arame: Late Return Night

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~1k Rating: G Time Frame: First year of college? Maybe second? Dunno yet Story Arc: Stand Alone

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Author’s Note: I did a similar scene for HtHaN and HL, so it’s only fair to bring the idea over to TA as well. Also, I think it’s adorable, so there’s that.

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“You did good work today, Yuki-san.” The woman in the driver’s seat said with a smile. “Sorry again that we caused you to miss your train.”

“That’s alright. It was a lot of fun and I’m glad I was able to help.” Setsuna replied. “Thank you for the ride.”

“It was the least I could do. See you tomorrow.”

“Of course!” Setsuna offered as big a smile as she could muster before exiting the vehicle. She then waved to the remaining occupants and closed the door.

She pulled her jacket closed with a hand as the cool night breeze picked up for a moment. She didn’t bother actually securing the zipper as she only had to walk a few meters to the entry of the dormitory complex.

What a day. Her weary mind replayed a few highlights as she made her way up the stairs. Of course, this would all happen on the day she had her earliest classes, but they had been some of her favorites, so she didn’t mind. Practice at the idol agency had been intense, again, something she didn’t mind, rather that was her favorite kind of practice.

But then, she found herself drawn into a work group discussion concerning the choreography for a new song by one of the veteran idol groups. And before any of them realized, it was late enough that the trains had stopped running for the night.

Some of the young women lived within walking distance of the agency and several others had a penchant for sleeping in the office after late nights like this. However, Setsuna had reasons she wanted to get home, two specifically, and thus had crammed into the car of one of the senior employees with the others who wished to return to their own home.

“Welcome home, Setsuna-chan.” Came a sleepy voice mere seconds after she opened the door.

Setsuna winced. She hadn’t wanted to wake either of her girlfriends. However, Ayumu was definitely the lightest sleeper of the trio, so this was probably inevitable. Even so, she couldn’t help smiling as part of her had wanted to hear at least one of their voices before she turned in for the night.

“I’m back.” Setsuna replied quietly, hoping to avoid waking Yuu as well.

“Come over here quick. I want…” Ayumu was interrupted by a yawn “I want to see you before I fall back asleep.”

Warmth spread through Setsuna’s chest. Once again, she was reminded how her girlfriends shared so many similar desires to her. Even with the curtains drawn, enough light from the city filtered through that she could see their faces when close. And that was enough. Well, that and being able to snuggle in close, feel their warmth and be lulled to sleep by the sound of their breathing.

Unfortunately, as Setsuna finished removing her shoes, she realized something.

“Uhm… I…” She fumbled “I forgot to change.” She turned back toward the door. “I’ll be right back.”

“You can borrow my pajamas, if you want.”

Setsuna dropped her hand from the doorknob. She hadn’t considered that possible solution, though even if she had, she would have been reluctant to propose it. But if Ayumu was offering, far be it for her to pass up such an opportunity.

“Or Yuu-chan’s,” Ayumu continued “depending on whichever you come across first.”

“Alright.” Setsuna moved across the room to Ayumu’s dresser.

“You know, you should probably just keep a few things like that over here like Yuu-chan does. It will make things easier on nights like tonight. Probably a few mornings as well.”

“Right. I may have to take you up on that.”

She opened the drawer and was thankful that the first garment she found was one of Ayumu’s. Not that she would have complained about finding one of Yuu’s, but she had already borrowed one of her sleepshirts a couple weeks back. Or rather, Ayumu had snuck it into her luggage for a recent concert tour as a part of heartfelt gesture to keep them connected when geographically separated; the other parts being one of her favored plushies and a phone charging mount to allow them all to video chat and hear each other as they fell asleep.

Setsuna disrobed as quickly as her tired muscles allowed and tossed her clothes in the general direction of the laundry basket. Under any other circumstances, she would have properly ensured they actually made it into the basket, but tonight was different.

Tonight, she was on a time limit as her energy waned and her girlfriend wanted to go back to sleep. As such, to save a few precious seconds, she pulled on the sleepshirt as she made her way to the bed. Upon arrival, she grabbed her case from its place on Ayumu’s headboard and dabbed out her contacts to ensure she didn’t fall asleep with them in, again.

“Excuse me.” She murmured, pulling up the duvet just enough to slide under.

Arms immediately reached out and pulled her… directly into Ayumu’s chest?

Eh?! What?! Setsuna found herself unable to give voice to her surprise.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry, Setsuna-chan…” Ayumu seemed to be slowly realizing the result of her actions.

It’s fine, was what Setsuna wanted to say, but all that came out was “Mmm…”

Though a little embarrassing, the position was incredibly comfortable and Setsuna could feel the day’s stress already dissipating, being displaced by fatigue. She nuzzled in more and shifted the rest of her body closer as well.

When she moved her arm up to wrap around Ayumu’s waist, her hand was intercepted by another. The hand gently guided hers down to rest on Ayumu’s hip before giving a gentle squeeze.

Wait. As tired as she was, Setsuna was fairly certain both of Ayumu’s arms were already around her. That meant the hand now holding hers belonged to Yuu, meaning she was at least somewhat awake. Setsuna wondered for a moment if it was too selfish of her to be happy at this turn of events, despite having inconvenienced both of her girlfriends by interrupting their slumber.

“Welcome home, Setsuna-chan.” Yuu murmured. “I love you. Sleep well.”

Even though the other two couldn’t see, there was no holding back Setsuna’s smile. She got to hear Yuu’s voice before falling asleep after all.

“I love you too, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu said before gently pressing a kiss atop her head. “Good night.”

“I love you two. G…” was all Setsuna managed to get out before her consciousness finally faded and sleep took hold.

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Author’s Notes Continued in Followup Post

#YuuAyuSetsu #Takasaki Yuu #Yuki Setsuna #Uehara Ayumu #Tri-Arame #Love Live Nijigasaki #fanfic

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lauras-collection · 4 years

Text

Two Lies and a Truth [Part 1]

uni student!tom holland x female reader

Masterlist

Summary: Your first day at uni goes different than expected when you bump into someone from your past.

Words: 2.2k

Warnings: swearing, nothing else I think [there will be smut in future chapters]

A/N: Here it is! Finally, the first part of my college/uni tom fic! This has been in the works for quite a while and I really really hope you’ll enjoy it! (I originally wanted to post this tomorrow but I just cannot wait :D)

Now, this part is mostly build-up. But this series will be an emotional rollercoaster, you guys. 😅

Feedback is greatly appreciated!

“Yes, mum. I’ve got everything. Would you please stop stressing?” Your mum was running around the house like a headless chicken and you honestly didn’t know what the fuss was about. You were moving into your student residence today and with the way your mum was behaving you’d think that you’re moving to another country. “I’m only moving to London, Mum. If there’s anything I forgot I can simply come here and pick it up.” You zipped your suitcase shut and started carrying it down the small staircase. Your mum sighed as she followed you downstairs.

“I know, I know. But I want you to have the best possible start at University, darling.” You reached the bottom of the stairs and turned around to look at her.

“I’m sure it’s going to be fine. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Of course I worry about you! That’s what comes with being a mum. Someday you’ll understand that.” You only rolled your eyes at that and carried the suitcase through the front door. The sea breeze immediately tousled your hair and you tried to tame it with your free hand while dragging the suitcase towards the car with the other.

You were going to miss living by the sea. Brighton had been your home for the past four years and you’ve never felt more at home somewhere. You already knew that you were going to come home plenty during the weekends. If your workload allowed it. You didn’t really know what to expect from university but you were prepared for a lot of studying. You had decided to study Film and Comparative Literatures in London and were very excited to finally study something that you were actually interested in. School had mostly consisted of you studying hard to do well in subjects that you had no interest in whatsoever.

Classes were starting in a week but the University was organising an introduction week for all first-year students and you were more than thrilled to meet new people. You felt like it was the start of a new chapter in your life.

Your mum drove you all the way to your student residence and you were thankful that you didn’t have to handle all your stuff on the train and the tube. You checked in at the front desk and the residence manager, Corey, took you and your mum to your room. You were going to share the room with another student and you hoped that she would be nice, or at least a tolerable roommate. You had heard way too many horror stories.

When you entered the room with your mum, a blonde was already sitting at one of the desks in the room. She turned around as she noticed your arrival and greeted you with a huge smile.

“Hi! I’m Kelly.” She got up from the chair to wrap her arms around you in a hug. Your eyes widened in surprise but you reciprocated the hug quickly.

“Y/N. Nice to meet you.”

***

After your mum had helped you with all your stuff she reluctantly drove back home.

“Be good, okay?” She was holding you by your shoulders as she looked at you intently. “I already know, you’re going to do great. Don’t be a stranger, yeah?” You nodded and wrapped her in a hug as you saw the tears form in your mum’s eyes.

“Of course. I’ll try to visit as often as possible. Give dad a hug from me, okay?” Unfortunately, your dad had to go on a work trip so you had had to say goodbye to him the day before and he couldn’t join your mum in taking you to Uni.

Your mum nodded. “We’re so proud of you, darling. Okay, I’m gonna go now before I get stuck in rush hour traffic.” With that, she quickly waved goodbye to Kelly and left your new home to get back to your old one.

You spent the whole afternoon getting to know Kelly while you placed your clothes into your new wardrobe. Kelly was sprawled out on her bed and scrolled through her phone. She had arrived earlier in the day from Liverpool and had already unpacked all her stuff before you arrived.

“The residence manger…what was his name again? Clark?” Kelly raised her eyebrows in question and moved her gaze from her phone towards you.

“I think his name’s Corey.” You chuckled and she nodded quickly.

“You’re right. Anyway, he told me that there was going to be a little get-together tonight. We should go there.” She sat up on her bed and put her phone down on the nightstand, looking at you with a pleading look.

“No need to convince me with that look.” You pointed at her face. ”Of course we’re going!”

A couple hours later you found yourself in the cafeteria. The room was buzzing with excited chatter. You loved it. Snacks had been prepared so you and Kelly grabbed yourself some sandwiches before sitting down at one of the tables. A few groups had already formed but people were still arriving.

You were hoping that you’d meet some people that were studying the same as you. Kelly was going to study Linguistics and unfortunately, you wouldn’t be sharing any classes with her. It would be nice to get to know some people before classes started next week.

“Hi, sorry. Is this seat already taken?” Someone had placed a hand on the backrest of the chair next to you and you turned your head to look at them. You were greeted with a tall, brunet guy. His blue eyes were looking at you with a kind expression and you quickly shook your head.

“No. Go ahead.” You gestured towards the seat and he sat down.

“I’m Ryan.” He introduced himself. “Are you first-year students, too?” He looked between you and Kelly.

“Yeah, I’m studying Linguistics. The name’s Kelly.” Kelly said before taking a bite from her sandwich.

“I’m Y/N. I’m studying Film and Comparative Literature.” You smiled at him. Meeting new people was easier than expected. His eyes widened a bit when he heard what you were studying.

“No way. Me, too.” His face broke into a smile and so did yours.

Find someone who’s studying the same subjects. Check.

For the rest of the evening, the three of you got to know each other better and exchanged numbers. You and Ryan compared your schedules and it turned out that you were sharing a lot of classes.

When the cafeteria gradually became less crowded you all decided to call it a night.

“I heard the literature department is throwing some type of welcoming party on Friday.” He mentioned as you were walking towards the stairwell. “Would you guys like to join me and my roommate?”

You and Kelly looked at each other for a second before you both nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds fun!” Kelly said while starting to climb the stairs.

“Awesome, I can come by your room and pick you up?” He offered and you shrugged your shoulders but nodded again.

“Sure. Our room is 106.”

Kelly had already reached the door leading to your hallway. She was waiting for you with a mischievous look on her face.

“So, he was cute.” Kelly said as soon as Ryan was out of hearing range.

“He was, wasn’t he? A really nice guy.” You nodded pulling your key out of the pocket of your jeans.

“He was definitely checking you out the whole time.” Kelly chuckled and you rolled your eyes.

“He was just being nice.”

“Nuh-uh. He couldn’t keep his eyes off you.” She wiggled her eyebrows while you unlocked the door to your room.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

***

The day of the party had arrived quickly. You had spent the whole week mingling with people and you were excited to meet even more and have a good time with Kelly, Ryan and his roommate Jordan. You had just finished coating your lashes with mascara when Ryan knocked on your door. Because Kelly was closest to the door she went and opened it.

“Hey, c’mon in. We’re almost ready.” Ryan entered the room and looked around for a moment. His hands were placed in the front pockets of his jeans.

“I like what you’ve done with the room. Ours still looks pretty bland.”

You and Kelly had decorated your room throughout the week. Both of you had stuck pictures and posters on your wall and placed a few decorative items here and there. Your mum had gotten you quite a bit before you moved here and it made the room look much more like a home rather than a hotel room.

“Thank you.” You said with a smile as you tucked your make up away.

A few students were having pre-drinks in the cafeteria so that was your first destination. Jordan was already downstairs and had saved a few drinks for your group.

“Good to see you guys.” Jordan exclaimed and greeted both you and Kelly with a hug before handing each of you a drink. Throughout the week you had visited many introduction events with the two boys and Kelly and had gotten to know them quite well already, considering you’d met not even a week ago.

“To the start of our student life.” Kelly cheered and raised the bottle a bit. You followed suit and clinked the neck of your bottle against hers.

The party was being held in a small club not far from the student residence so you collectively decided to walk there. The walk was filled with laughter and when you reached the club you got in almost immediately. You felt the beat thumping through your body as you followed Ryan and Jordan further into the club. You held Kelly’s hand clutched in yours so you wouldn’t lose her as you squeezed through the crowd of people. You were walking by the bar which was right by the entrance of the club. There wasn’t a lot of space for people to walk by and as you tried to keep your eyes on the dark green shirt that Ryan was wearing, you suddenly felt an elbow connect with your face. It wasn’t that painful but there was enough force behind the unintentional punch to send your head back a bit. Your hand cupped your cheek as you let out a groan.

“Oh my gosh. I’m sorry.” The person who had punched you turned around and placed their hands on your shoulder as you blinked repetitively. When you finally looked at the guy in front of you, you lost your ability to speak for a moment. Brown eyes were looking at you with concern and you closed your eyes for another moment wondering if you were dreaming or if the hit to your head had been worse than you thought. But he was still standing in front of you. Tom Holland. You hadn’t seen him in years.

The last time you saw him you were fifteen, maybe sixteen, and the ripped guy in front of you had nothing to do with the scrawny boy you remembered. The white t-shirt he was wearing was tight over his muscles and a backward ball cap was covering his brown curls.

You suddenly snapped out of it and looked back into his face his lips now pulled into a smirk.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He said. “I’m Tom.” He removed one of his hands from your shoulder and reached it out for you. You just rolled your eyes.

“We have, actually.” You raised an eyebrow either he didn’t recognise you or he forgot about you completely. You didn’t know which was worse.

“Did we? I’m sorry I must’ve been drunk.” He chuckled a little. “What’s your name again?” You felt like not telling him just to spite him. But you decided against it.

“Y/N, we were next-door neighbours for ten years. Does that ring any bells?” You watched his eyebrows shoot up, almost touching his hairline.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You look...different.” He almost stammered.

“Thanks?” You looked at him questioningly not sure if that was supposed to be a good thing.

“I’m sorry. I- uh, I should get back to my friends.” He pointed to somewhere in the back of the club.

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded. You hadn’t expected him to want to talk about the good old times anyway.

“Sorry again. For accidentally punching you.” You waved your hand in a dismissive way.

“Don’t worry about it.” And with that, he disappeared into the group of people. When you turned around to Kelly she was looking at you with wide eyes.

“Who the fuck was that?”

“Tom Holland. We went to school together.” You shrugged your shoulders.

“Hold up a minute. He used to be your neighbour and you went to school with him and he didn’t even recognise you just now?” She was pointing in the general direction of where Tom had gone.

“He didn’t really pay much attention to me.” He had paid attention to you, but you didn’t feel like telling Kelly that your childhood best friend had betrayed you in the worst way when he decided to make your life a living hell.

Part 2

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just-my-sickly-pride · 5 years

Text

Tie Your Hair Back, Baby || Brian May x fem!Reader

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD OF A FIC I POSTED LAST YEAR ON A DIFFERENT BLOG. I DID NOT STEAL THIS; IT’S MINE. The other version has since been made private. There have been some very minor changes made to this version.

summary || you have a crush on brian may. that’s obvious. and he doesn’t have a crush on you. that’s also obvious. but maybe - just maybe - you could be wrong about that. the flat is empty, it’s saturday night, and it’s just you and brian sitting on the couch. who knows what could happen? friends to lovers. modern day au. college au.

rating || explicit (18+). do not read if you are under eighteen. there’s some fluffy aspects to some of the smut, but it’s mostly smut. there’s hints of various kinks in here - brian has a thigh kink, reader has a hand kink, etc. - but nothing that extreme at all. as always with my work, there’s an abundance of profanity.

word count || 8.5k.

author’s notes || this is for the anon who said this was their favourite fic ever and was sad that it was no longer available. i’m so fuckin’ sorry this has taken longer than i said it would to upload - legit, it just completely forgot oop. it just popped into my noggin this morning and i went oh shit i forgot to do that, so here it is! yet another modern day college au! but not in the same ’verse as the try series, obviously.

masterlist

You blinked open your eyes, taking a moment to register your surroundings, and then stretched. You yawned, looking down at yourself. You were in the room that you friends Brian and John shared, lying on top of Brian’s bed, which was made, but you had a blanket thrown over you, and someone had slipped off your shoes, which sat neatly by the door. You knew you’d dozed off while scrolling mindlessly through social media on your phone, so you must have fallen asleep with it in your hand — but over there, on the bedside table, your phone had been plugged into the charger.

Shit. How long had you been asleep?

You sat up, feeling groggy. You’d come over to the little flat that Brian, Freddie, Roger, and John shared to study with Brian for the upcoming exams, but you’d only studied for about an hour and a half before you’d decided that you were too exhausted to focus any longer. Brian had offered his bed for a nap, as he always did. You’d thought about inviting him to join you for some activities that did not involve napping, as you always did. But held your tongue — as you always did.

That had been at three. You checked your phone — now it was almost six in the evening.

“Shit,” you sighed. Talk about a wild Saturday night. You yawned again, and staggered out of bed, heading to the bathroom to splash water on your face and have a drink.

You looked bedraggled, in short. While the old, oversized T-shirt you were wearing had been fine to sleep in, denim shorts had not been the most comfortable. You tried to fix your hair, but it was a bit of a lost cause, and your eyes were slightly bloodshot, your face puffy, and very much not in a cute way. Thank God you’d been friends with Brian for a long time, long before you’d started fancying him — he’d already seen you at your worst a thousand times, so you never had to worry about impressing him.

Not that there was any point in trying to impress him, anyway. He’d never see you like you saw him. But you’d come to terms with that. You were okay with it.

Or so you told yourself.

You shuffled out to the main room. You’d fallen asleep to the sounds of conversation and Roger getting worked up over some Xbox game, but now the house was silent.

Brian was on the couch, reading. He had one foot resting on the edge of the coffee table in front of him, and a mug by his foot. He glanced up at the sound of your arrival, smiling softly. Your heart squeezed at the sight of it. “Good kip?” he asked.

You hummed, nodding. “Where is everyone?”

“Well, it’s a Saturday night,” Brian said. He stretched, as if he’d awoken from a nap himself — he’d clearly been focused on his book for a while. “So who knows where Rog and Fred are. At someone’s for pre-drinks. I think one of them mentioned something about a new club in Soho. And Deacy and Ronnie are on a date. Deacs made it clear that he won’t be coming home tonight.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh, how saucy.”

Brian smiled, shaking his head. “Leave him alone.”

“No, I think it’s great.” You headed over to grab Brian’s mug, which was empty. “They’re so cute together. I’m making tea, want some?”

“Yeah, if you’re making it,” Brian said easily. He checked his watch. “Oh God, is it that late already?”

“That’s what I said,” you said, padding over to the kitchen. “Did you take my shoes off when I was asleep? Plug my phone in and stuff?”

“That was Deacy, actually,” Brian said, turning back to his book. “He didn’t realise you were asleep, and went to get changed for his date, and he thought you looked a bit chilly, so he took it upon himself to make you more comfortable.”

You smiled. “That was nice of him.”

“Yeah, he can be nice, when he wants to be,” Brian joked.

“Sorry I fell asleep for so long, by the way,” you added. “I’ll just have a cuppa and then I’ll head off.”

“No, don’t be silly, stay,” Brian said with a slight frown, not even looking up.

You had dinner there frequently, knocking elbows with the boys as you all tried to fit around the small dining table, but hearing Brian insist that you stay, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, still made your stomach flip.

Especially since it was an empty house for the night. You knew nothing would happen, of course it wouldn’t, but it was easy to let your imagination get away from you. What would Brian do if you marched over there right now and kissed him? With no prying eyes or ears, no concerns about someone coming home at any minute? Would he kiss you back? He was a good kisser — you’d heard it from John, actually, of all people, who’d said he and Brian had snogged for a particularly wild game of truth or dare at some party — and you weren’t too bad yourself, you’d been told. And Brian’s hands; you could wax poetry about those hands. God knows you’d spent enough time staring at them, imagining what they’d feel like on your skin, in your hair, in your mouth, in your—

Tea. Right.

You sighed, shaking your head to clear it, and put the kettle on.

“What d’you want for dinner, then?” Brian called.

“Hm?” You moved from the kitchen, away from the roaring wheeze of the kettle.

Brian glanced up from his book. “What do you feel like?”

You shrugged. “I’m not fussed. I’m not really hungry right now, actually.”

“What about that Thai place?” Brian suggested.

“I thought you weren’t a fan of it,” you said. “We can get something else.”

It was Brian’s turn to shrug. “No, I’m happy if you’re happy. I know how much you love it.”

“Are you sure? I really don’t mind.”

“I’m sure.” He picked up his phone off the couch, and said, “You like the pad see yew, don’t you?”

“With chicken, yeah,” you said. “I’ll pay you back.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll get it next time, then,” you said. “No discussions.”

Brian glanced up at you, smiling. “All right,” he said with a chuckle. “Deal.”

The kettle switched off, and you headed back to the kitchen, going about making two cups of tea. You found a packet of biscuits on the counter — judging by the way it had been ripped open and left on the counter, Roger had had a go at it — and brought them over with you.

You set down the mugs on the coffee table, and the biscuits beside them. Brian reached over and took his mug, taking a sip. He hummed contentedly. “Cheers. Food should be here in about half an hour.” He picked up his book again and continued reading.

“How is it?” you asked, nodding to the mug in his hands and taking a sip from your own.

“Perfect. I don’t know how you do it, but it’s perfect every time.”

You smiled, glad that Brian still had his nose in his book, so he couldn’t see how horribly adoring the smile was. “Practice.”

“Must be.” Brian put his tea down again, and took a biscuit.

You settled back against the couch with a sigh, tea in hand.

It was so quiet in the flat; you weren’t used to it. Brian’s flat was a place of noise and music and banter and, oftentimes, mess. Now that it was unoccupied, bar you and Brian, it felt different. Not better or worse, just different.

You could understand why Brian usually liked to be alone when the flat was empty. It wasn’t often he could read in the living room without being disturbed.

Not that he was completely without distractions. You were there, anyway, and as content in the silence you tried to be, you quickly grew bored. Your phone was still in Brian’s bedroom, and it felt too far away to be worth the effort of getting up.

You found yourself watching Brian, as was not uncommon. He was mostly still, apart from when his lips moved the slightest bit every so often as he mouthed the words that he was reading. His hands, long and slender, flipped each page fluidly. You leant over to read over Brian’s shoulder. Lots of complicated science words. No thanks.

You tapped your nails against your mug, sighing. Naturally, there was always the option to just stare into space and daydream completely inappropriate things about Brian — that was how you spent most of your university lectures these days — but it felt a little too much with Brian less than a metre away from you.

It was almost unbearable being this close to Brian while no one else was around. Every movement he made seemed magnified, and every thought of yours was so loud in your head that you could have sworn that Brian would‘ve been able to hear them. You gripped your mug tightly, giving your hands something to do. Your eyes flitted up and down Brian’s body, instinctively searching for some way to touch him without arousing too much suspicion. If you didn’t touch him in some way, no matter how innocuous the touch may be, you felt like you would explode. You’d always been a tactile person; you liked holding hands and hugs and cuddles with your friends. Some people called it needy. You liked to think of it as affectionate.

You tried to hold back around Brian, though. You didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

But there was one thing that you could do.

You reached out and touched his arm, gently running your finger up and down his forearm. He transferred his book to one hand, and held out his other hand to you. You took it, resting it on your knee, palm facing the ceiling, and traced your finger over every line and vein in his skin.

It was something you tended to do whenever you grew bored and Brian was nearby. You had no idea if Brian knew that you were just looking for an excuse to be in contact with him, that you needed it like you needed oxygen, but you hoped he’d just put it down to restless fidgeting. He never seemed to mind, anyway.

You placed your mug back on the table, and flipped Brian’s hand over this way and that, idly inspecting. Finding every callous he’d gotten from years of playing guitar, every small scar, every freckle. You were familiar with it all well and truly by now, but that didn’t matter.

The more impulsive part of your brain wondered how Brian would react if you took his hand and sucked his fingers into your mouth.

It was harder to resist than you cared to admit. But you managed it.

You turned his hand over again, and drew a line with your fingertip from his palm to the inside of his elbow. He breathed in sharply, and you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. You drew the line again, and he shifted in his seat.

“Does that tickle?” you murmured.

Brian hummed. “A bit.”

You wanted to draw the line up his arm, over his shoulder, and up his neck. But you didn’t. Instead, you let his hand go.

“You can keep going,” Brian said, keeping his hand on your knee. “I don’t mind.”

“Are you asking me to?” you said, your voice lilting playfully.

Brian paused, and then said, “No,” and took his hand back.

You pouted to yourself. You knew Brian wouldn’t flirt back, but it still stung.

Now you were back to square one, and your body was begging to touch Brian once again. You wanted to snuggle up to him, feel his arm around you. Wrap yourself around him. Maybe put your hand under his shirt, and count his ribs with your fingers. Press kisses under his jaw.

God, you had to stop it. It had to be unhealthy to let your mind wander like that so often. But it was just so hard not to. So easy to justify to yourself that if you couldn’t have Brian in real life, you could at least have him in your imagination.

Brian was still reading, oblivious to your self-inflicted suffering.

How much could you get away with?

You shifted closer to him on the couch, pretending to read over his shoulder again. He angled the book so you could see more easily, and you moved even closer, practically curled up against his side. You sighed, pretending to get comfortable, and, in a moment of complete lunacy, hooked your legs over his lap, leaning against the couch.

“Is this all right?” you asked, as nonchalantly as you could manage.

Brian made a noise of disgruntlement, and raised his arm. You took a moment to comprehend, but then you realised — holy shit holy shit holy shit — he was inviting you in. You shifted closer, and leant against his shoulder, and his arm came around you, dragging you in closer still, and then settled around your waist. “That’s better,” he mumbled, barely even looking up from his book.

You swallowed, your heart about to burst through your ribcage. You tried not to give away how nervous — and excited — you were, and took a deep breath to settle yourself.

It wasn’t the first time you’d sat like this. Or similar to this, anyway. But usually it was when you were both drunk, or there wasn’t any room on the couch to spread out, or you were tired and desperate for a cuddle. You’d sat like this with basically all your friends before. But it almost never felt this... intimate.

You’d never felt this turned on with your other friends, anyhow.

“Can you turn the page for me?” Brian said, and you reached over and did so.

You’d have done anything for him. You’d have killed a man if he’d asked.

“What are you reading about?” you asked, just for a reason to stare at his face. He was so close to you. You could lean over and kiss his cheek, or tilt his chin towards you with your hand and kiss his mouth. But you didn’t.

Brian sighed. “Would you like the long answer or the short answer?”

You considered this. “Both.”

Brian paused.

“Sorry, am I annoying you?” you cut in.

Brian looked to you in surprise. “What’s that?”

“I keep distracting you from reading.”

Brian flipped the book shut and set it on the ground beside the couch. “I was only half-reading it anyway.”

You made a face. “Sorry.”

“No, not your fault.” Brian smiled at you, reassuringly. “Are you all right? You seem a bit off.”

Kiss me. “No, I’m fine.”

Brian’s thumb brushed over the side of your ribs through your shirt, just tiny little motions, and you pressed your lips together to stop yourself from making some stupid noise you’d most definitely regret.

“You sure?” he prodded.

You nodded, ducking your gaze to hide your face.

You could feel Brian’s eyes on you, and you looked down at your hands in your lap. Brian’s hand slipped lower, and when his fingertips came in contact with the bare skin that your shirt revealed, you sucked in a breath, your back arching slightly.

You swallowed. “Um,” you squeaked. You frantically tried to think of something to say, to distract you, because Brian’s touch was muddling your brain and muddling your impulse control. “Do— We—“

“Yes?” Brian prompted, and he sounded... smug, almost.

He knew what he was doing. He knew. Which meant that he wanted to make you flustered.

You looked up to him, meeting his gaze. The look on his face made your stomach drop, and you breathed in shakily. “Bri...”

“Yeah?” he breathed. His hand, painfully slowly, slipped under your shirt, up your back, and you bit your lip.

“What are you doing?” you couldn’t help but ask.

Brian’s hand froze, his face dropping. “Do you want me to stop?” he asked.

“No,” you blurted, shaking your head. “No, that’s not what I...”

His movements continued, fingertips running up and down your skin, and you shivered. “I just meant...” You closed your eyes, trying to gather your thoughts. “I just thought that you... I—“

Brian hummed, urging you to continue.

“You know what I mean,” you said.

“No, keep going,” Brian said, his voice warm with amusement. “I want to hear it.”

You opened your eyes and scowled at him. “Don’t be an arsehole.”

Brian chuckled, and his hand moved downwards, coming to rest on the skin just above your belt. Before you could ask why he’d stopped, his other hand began tracing up your leg. “What were you saying?” he asked.

“I can’t even remember,” you said. “It didn’t matter.”

Brian’s hand reached your knee, and travelled up higher. Your heart was pounding. “Try to remember for me,” Brian said softly.

“I don’t have to do what you tell me,” you said, but it came out sounding breathless.

Brian’s hand paused. “I can stop.”

“Fuck you,” you huffed, and Brian grinned.

You wracked your brain. “I...” Brian started moving his hand again, almost reaching the top of your thigh, and you wouldn’t have even been able to recite the alphabet if he’d asked. “I didn’t know... that you— I thought you only saw me—“

Brian’s hand began moving towards your inner thigh.

“Fuck,” you breathed.

“Keep going,” Brian murmured.

“I thought you only saw me as a friend,” you blurted. “I never would’ve thought that you saw me as anything else.”

You automatically shifted, opening your legs, as Brian’s hand went even further. You wondered if you’d soaked through your underwear yet. You must have been getting close to it.

“You are my friend,” Brian replied simply. “And I thought the same. I thought you’d never be interested in me. But clearly, we seem to be on the same page here.” He hesitated, looking at you tentatively. “We are on the same page, aren’t we?”

“I think it’s safe to say we are,” you said weakly.

“Good,” Brian breathed. His thumb rubbed over your inner thigh now, so close to where you wanted his hands the most, and it was driving you insane.

“I could have my hands on your thighs all day,” Brian said.

“Really?” you said, genuinely surprised. You’d always been self-conscious about your thighs. You liked to pretend that they didn’t bother you, but pretending was easier than actually believing it yourself.

“Are you joking?” Brian said, his eyes wide. “God, I—“ His hand gripped your thigh. “Yes. Sorry, is that—“

“Don’t apologise,” you cut in, shaking your head. “That’s... so hot.”

“I’ve literally dreamt about your thighs,” he said. “Every time you wear shorts, or a skirt, or even those tight jeans you have, I can’t tear my eyes away from them. I can’t believe you haven’t noticed me staring. All the others have.”

“I never noticed,” you said. “I never knew.”

“Well, now you know,” Brian said. “And now that I know you want me like I want you, I will be eating you out until you’ve come so many times that you’re begging me to stop. I just wanted to let you know.”

“Bold of you to assume that I’d ever want you to stop,” you said, surprising yourself.

Brian laughed. His eyes stayed on your face, watching you carefully, and his hand went to your belt. The sound of it being unbuckled was almost deafening in the quiet of the house, and you bit down on your bottom lip. Brian undid the button, and then you helped with the fly.

His hand dipped into your shorts, and when you felt his fingers press against your damp underwear, your breath stopped.

Brian’s jaw went slack. “Jesus,” he whispered,

“That’s entirely your fault, you know,” you said.

“God.” Brian breathed out sharply, gazing at you in awe and lust and disbelief, and then slipped his hand into your underwear.

You let out a soft moan, your legs falling open even further. One of your hands gripped Brian’s bicep, the other his shirt, as Brian’s fingers, the same fingers you’d been fixated on for months, began to move through your folds, circling around your clit.

“Tell me if I’m doing a good job, yeah?” Brian said.

You nodded, unable to speak, too focused on the feeling of his hand and the warmth spreading throughout your body.

You were a mess within minutes, panting and whimpering, and Brian hadn’t even slid his fingers inside you yet. “Get in me,” you demanded.

“What?”

“Get your fingers inside me, fucking hell, fuck me with your fucking fingers.”

Brian laughed. “I just wanted to make sure you were wet enough before I—“

“I was wet enough before you even touched me, Brian. It’s just rude n— oh my God.”

He’d pushed two fingers inside you at once, and it felt so good it was like a punch to the chest. Your grip on his bicep was vice-like, and you could feel the muscles moving under his skin.

If you’d thought Brian was skilled with his hand before, it was nothing in comparison to now. You were quickly climbing, your eyes closed, panting out yes and right there and letting out choked moans and whimpers.

“I’m— I’m close,” you said.

“You look so good like this,” Brian said, and crooked his fingers inside you, making you cry out. “I can’t wait to fuck you. You’re going to feel so incredible around me.”

You moaned. “Yes.”

“Are you close?”

You nodded. “S—so close.”

Brian quickened his movements further, and you sucked in a breath. You could feel your orgasm building like a wave, and you knew you only had seconds left—

The buzzer rang out, loud and obnoxious, and you and Brian jumped in surprise.

You groaned. “What the fuck?” you cried.

“The food,” Brian said, followed by a frustrated click of his tongue.

The buzzer blared again, and Brian pursed his lips, looking beyond irritated. “Great fucking timing,” he muttered.

“You’re telling me.” You pressed your forehead into his shoulder, breathing hard. Your whole body seemed to twitch, searching for the release that never came, and you instinctively clenched your thighs around Brian’s hand, moaning.

Brian hissed. “Fuck, that’s hot,” he said.

The buzzer blared once more, and Brian sighed, and retracted his hand.

“Fuck!” you whined, frustrated. “Can’t it wait?”

“It’s not really fair to make the delivery person wait there while I get you off,” Brian said. He nudged you. “Come on. Up.”

You growled, but climbed off his lap, and he hurried to the PA system. “Be down in a second, so sorry,” he said into it. He grabbed a tissue and wiped his hand, then snatched his keys from the table by the door, and disappeared out the flat.

You huffed. Your shorts were still undone, belt hanging loose, and you could think of nothing else but of your need to orgasm. Food? You didn’t need food. You weren’t even hungry. The delivery person could go fuck themselves. The buzzer could go fuck itself, too. The restaurant where the food had come from could go fuck itself. Everyone and everything could go fuck themselves; except Brian, who could fuck you instead.

You dragged your hands down your face, squeezing your thighs together again. God, Brian was good. You knew he would be.

You shivered, and went to grab two beers from the fridge. It was uncomfortable, being as wet as you were, having to walk around like you weren’t.

It felt like an eternity before Brian returned, Thai in hand. The smell of it made your stomach rumble. Maybe food wasn’t so stupid after all.

“Hungry?” Brian said, dumping the plastic bag on the table.

“Yeah, actually,” you said. You popped open the beers, and brought one over to him. “You?”

He took the bottle from you, his eyes snaking down your body and back up again. “Yeah,” he said casually.

You throbbed between your legs. “Did they give us cutlery this time?” you said, peeking inside the bag. “No, they didn’t. They always forget.” You went to the kitchen to grab some forks.

When you returned, Brian was at the table, sipping his beer. He ogled your thighs openly as you walked back to the table, and you smiled to yourself.

You sat down, and both of you began eating. There wasn’t much conversation at first, but it didn’t take long for it to start flowing. It was just the same as always, but now you didn’t have to hold back the flirty comments and heated glances, and it thrilled you to no end that Brian seemed to feel the same way. You both ate fairly quickly, and when you were done, Brian hurried to clean up.

When he was in the kitchen, you realised you’d both left your unfinished mugs of tea on the coffee table, so you took them, and the biscuits, to the kitchen.

Brian took the mugs, and dumped them in the sink, not even rinsing them out, and then took the packet of biscuits from you, discarding it on the kitchen counter.

You frowned. “What—“

Brian kissed you, and it was like a dam broke within you. You kissed him back furiously, hungrily, and Brian responded in kind, his hands squeezing your arse, pulling you flush against him. He bit at your bottom lip, and you pushed your body even closer to his.

He gripped your hips, and started backing you up until you bumped into the kitchen counter. He leant down to grip the backs of your thighs, hoisting you up onto the counter, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, but he pulled back. “Shorts off,” he said.

“Here?” you said, but you nudged him back and slid off the counter to strip off your shorts and underwear.

“Just one thing,” Brian said. “Just to make up for earlier. Get back up on the counter.”

“I can’t,” you said. “That’s... not sanitary.”

“We’ll clean it later.” Brian said, almost frantically. “I promise.”

You thought about it, and then sat back up on the counter. “This feels wrong.”

Brian dropped to his knees and grabbed your hips, shunting you forward, almost off the counter entirely, and you yelped, putting a hand on his shoulder to balance yourself.

“Lie back a bit,” Brian said. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

You gaped. “You’re joking. Like this?”

“I’m really not.” Brian pressed a kiss to your knee. “We don’t have to, but I’d really like to, if you’re all right with it.”

You swallowed, and swung your legs over his shoulders, leaning back, propping yourself up on the heels of your hand.

Brian moved in closer, kissing the inside of your thigh. “Thank you,” he said, and he sounded genuinely grateful.

He pressed more kisses to the soft skin of your inner thighs, and you could already feel your chest heaving with anticipation. One of your hands wound itself in his hair, and you let your head fall back and your eyes slide closed, revelling in the feeling.

When Brian’s mouth finally reached its goal, you gasped, and Brian moaned.

“Oh, fuck, Bri,” you sighed. You tilted your hips, giving him a better angle. He gripped your hips so tightly it felt like you would have bruises in the shape of his fingertips, and when he flicked his tongue in just the right way, you knew that if he kept this up, you wouldn’t last long at all.

He removed one hand from your hip to slide his fingers inside you, pumping them rhythmically as his tongue worked its magic. Your fist tightened in his hair. “Yeah, like that,” you panted. “So good.”

Brian hummed, and you made a noise at the extra stimulation. “Bri, please,” you begged, although you had no idea what for. “Please.”

Brian doubled his efforts, and you whined. You were growing close again, and Brian’s mouth and hand were so perfect, and you had a moment internally of, holy shit, Bri’s actually eating me out, this is real, I’m not imagining this, before you tumbled over the edge with a cry.

Brian coaxed you through it, and you relaxed the grip on his hair, gasping for breath. You soon had to nudge Brian away, overstimulated. Brian kissed your thigh again, a wet, sloppy kiss that made you smile and laugh breathlessly, and then he was wiping his face on the back of his hand and getting to his feet, pulling you in for a kiss. You hummed happily onto the kiss, and reached down to rub at the bulge in his jeans. He bucked forward into your hand with a moan.

You pulled back, looking Brian in the eye. “Fuck me,” you said.

“God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you say that,” Brian said, and surged forward, kissing you deeply, running his hands over your thighs. He ducked his head to kiss your neck, biting down every so often, and electricity shot through you every time he did.

He found your pulse point and bit down, harder this time, and your grip on him tightened.

“Did that hurt?” he mumbled against your neck. “Too much?”

You shook your head. “No,” you said. “Never too much.”

Brian began sucking on the same point, and you began blindly fiddling with his jeans, unbuttoning them and inching the fly down.

Brian only stopped his work on your neck when you shoved your hand down his boxers and took hold of him, stroking up his length with a curious touch.

His hips jerked forward again, and he bit down on your shoulder to muffle his moan.

“I fucking knew it,” you said.

Brian peppered kisses along your jaw. “Knew what?”

“That you had a big dick.”

Brian laughed. “You had your suspicions, did you?”

“I can see it no matter what you wear,” you said. You pulled back, and cocked an eyebrow. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice me staring.”

“I guess we’re both unobservant,” Brian said wryly. He stepped back, and held out his hand. “Come on.”

You hopped off the counter and took his hand, and you both hurried to his and John’s bedroom. As soon as you’d reached it, Brian just about slammed you against the wall and kissed you fiercely. You gave as good as you got, and in no time at all clothes were being torn off and thrown to the ground, and Brian’s cock was in your hand, and he was biting at your lips and neck and kissing you with a passion that made you weak in the knees.

“Bed,” you said, and Brian spun you around, backing you up until your legs hit the bed.

You put a hand to his chest, pushing gently, and Brian stepped back. “What?” he said. His lips were red and swollen, his cheeks flushed, and some of his wild curls hung in his face. He looked fucking gorgeous.

“Protection,” you said, and Brian huffed, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, obviously,” he said, and went to his bedside drawer. He rummaged around for a while, and you crawled onto the bed, sitting cross-legged, enjoying the view.

“Shit,” he muttered, tossing a bottle of lube onto the bed. “Just a moment.”

“Where are you going?” you called after him as he left the room.

“Rog and Freddie’s room,” he called back. He returned seconds later, condoms in hand. “They always have way more than they need. They say they need all of them, but they’re just being arrogant. As usual.” He dropped them on the bed — the sight of them made your stomach bubble.

Brian met you on the bed, kissing you, lowering you down onto your back, and he began trailing his kisses down your body, sucking your nipple into his mouth, and you hissed. “Oh, God, that feels good,” you groaned, and Brian moved his attention to your other nipple, making you shiver.

Soon, though, he continued his journey down, nipping at your hip bone as he went. He climbed off the bed, then, standing at the foot of it, and took hold of your ankles, dragging you down the bed so forcefully that you yelped. “Jesus Christ, stop manhandling me,” you said as Brian knelt on the floor between your legs.

“Does it really bother you?” he said.

“No,” you admitted. “It’s hot. But it’s the principle of the thing.”

Brian chuckled. “Sorry. I’ll be a gentleman next time I throw you around.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Brian sat back to grab your knees and pull you forward a touch more, and said, “Please excuse me, ma’am.”

You giggled. “Fucking dick.”

Brian laughed, and dropped kisses onto your thighs. He tapped your knee with his hand, and you took it as a cue to swing your legs over his shoulders.

You stroked your fingers through his hair. “You don’t have to—“

“What did I say?” Brian said, kissing your thigh again. “I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging me to stop.”

“I thought it was just a figure of speech,” you said with a chuckle.

“Nope,” was all Brian said, and you laughed again. His tongue pushed into your folds, and you closed your eyes, completely giving over, letting Brian take care of you.

It felt like no time at all before you were climbing to a climax, and you were panting and moaning and whimpering Brian’s name, and then you were coming, feeling it pulse through you, your head thrown back, your blood roaring in your ears.

When you came to, Brian was kissing your thighs again, with such reverence that you almost felt self-conscious.

“How was that?” he murmured.

“All right,” you said with a shrug, and Brian laughed.

“Ouch,” he said, and you could feel his grin against your skin.

You sat up, propping yourself up on the heels of your hands, and Brian looked up at you. “What?”

“Nothing,” you said. Although you wouldn’t admit it, you just wanted to see him between your legs. You’d imagined it so many times, it was almost hard to believe that this time, it was real.

Brian locked eyes with you, keeping your focus, and began sucking a hickey into your inner thigh. You bit your bottom lip, almost wincing at the pain of it, but as if you’d stop him.

Every so often he’d pause and briefly inspect his work, deciding whether he’d done enough, before getting back to it. When he was done, your whole thigh felt like it was burning, but the reddish purple mark that Brian left behind was one of the hottest things you’d ever seen.

“I guess I won’t be wearing shorts for a while,” you said.

Brian looked distraught. “For the love of God, please wear shorts. Please. I’m fucking begging you.” He surged forward, kissing you, pausing every few seconds to speak. “Seeing you — in shorts — with that on — your thigh — knowing I put it there — will be...” He broke away, kissing under your jaw, moaning softly, his hands on your thighs. “I won’t be able to handle it,” he whispered. “In the best way. It will blow my fucking mind.”

You nodded. “Okay,” you breathed. You’d already come twice, but you felt so turned on that you couldn’t even try to banter with him. “Okay.”

Brian kissed you, and your hands ran down his chest. “Fuck me,” you said, moving your lips to his collarbones. “Can you fuck me now?”

“Yeah?” Brian said.

You nodded, kissing his chest. “Yeah.”

Brian climbed onto the bed, and you followed him, pushing him onto his back and straddling him. Your kisses grew frantic and greedy, Brian flipped you over, dotting your chest with bites as he pushed his fingers into you, stretching you out. You moaned, spreading your legs as far as they would go. He eased a third finger into you, and you breathed through the ache.

“All right?” he said, checking in.

“All right,” you said with a nod. “It’s been a while.”

Brian hummed, pressing a kiss to the hollow of your throat. “We’ll go as slow as you need.”

“I’m too impatient,” you huffed, and Brian smiled, and pushed his fingers in further, making you yelp. “I’m fine, I’m fine,” you blurted, when Brian froze. “You just surprised me.”

Brian kissed your lips lightly, fucking you with his fingers slow and deep.

“Slow as you need,” he said again. “I want this to be good for you.”

“It’s you,” you said, your voice hard to counter how sappy the words were. You rolled your hips up into his hand. “Of course it’ll be good.”

Brian replied with another kiss.

He kept up the rhythm until you were squirming and even more needy than before, begging him for more.

You pushed Brian’s hand away, out of you, and flipped him over just as he’d done to you, wrapping a hand around his flushed and swollen cock and pulling him off with a featherlight touch. Brian laughed, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Oh, you’re cruel,” he said, followed by a choked moan, bucking his hips up into your hand.

“Oh, I’m cruel?” you said, softening your touch even further. Brian whined. “Who’s been finger-fucking me for hours without making me come?”

“You’ve already come twice,” Brian gasped. “And it wasn’t hours, don’t be dramatic.” He sobbed, one hand gripping the sheets. “Oh, fuck.”

You leant down and slid the head of his cock into your mouth, and he cried out, “Ah, shit! Fuck.”

You sucked him off, tasting the salty pre-come on your tongue, your hand making up for where your mouth couldn’t reach. Brian’s hands moved to your hair, and he grunted as you swirled your tongue around his head.

You could’ve sucked his dick all night, but soon he was tugging on your hair, telling you to stop, the words rushing out of his mouth urgently, and you pulled off with a wet pop. “Yeah?” you asked, still jerking him off with your hand.

“Shit— stop,” Brian said, sitting up sharply and grabbing your wrist, stopping your movement. “I’m too close to coming for you to do that.”

You hummed, grinning, pleased. “Oh yeah?”

“Yes,” Brian huffed. He guided your hand, still holding your wrist, to his lips, where he pressed a surprisingly tender kiss to your fingertips. “I want to be inside you when I come, all right?”

Something twisted in your stomach at that, something bizarrely affectionate, at the way he’d said it, almost gently, in a way that was so very Brian. You let your fingers brush over his lips, and he smiled, an adorable, warm, happy smile, that shouldn’t have fit the hot, horny, sweaty situation at all, but somehow was beautifully perfect. You smiled back, but you pushed the feelings aside. God forbid things get too mushy and cute. You were expecting to be completely fucked into next week, after all.

You took your hand back and searched for the condoms, snatching one off the bed and ripping open the foil packet. Brian sat up, watching your face with keen eyes as you rolled it onto him, and as soon as you were done he grabbed you, throwing you onto your back and kissing you. You responded enthusiastically, hooking your heels over his hips, and then he was lining himself up and pushing into you.

Your breath caught, and you pressed your forehead into his neck, grunting.

“You all right?” Brian said, his hand stroking soothingly down your side.

“Yeah,” you said. “Just... Yeah, I’m fine. Go. Keep going.”

Brian did, and you let your head drop back onto the pillow, pressing your lips together. It was an ache you were familiar with, but one you hadn’t felt in a good while now, and Brian was definitely on the larger end of the dick spectrum.

Brian nuzzled under your jaw as he pushed in further, and then he was fully seated. You ran your nails lightly up and down his back, wordlessly telling him that you were okay.

“Oh my God, you feel amazing,” Brian moaned. He lifted his head, searching your face, concern creasing his brow. “Are you— Is it all right?”

You laughed. “You’re not going to break me, Bri.”

“But is it... Do you want this? Are you sure?”

You pulled him down for a kiss. “Yes, I’m fucking sure,” you said. You rolled your hips, and Brian squeezed his eyes shut, failing to suppress a moan. “Now fuck me already.”

So Brian did, pulling out and ramming back into you. He began to set up a rhythm, and you wrapped yourself around him, your nails now claws on his back, and he was gasping out your name, telling you how amazing you felt, how much he’d wanted this, and all you could do was say his name in return. You rolled both of you over, settling back onto him, and he gripped your hips, thrusting up into you. You held him still, and slowly rocked your hips. His eyes just about rolled into the back of his head, and it was the biggest ego boost you’d ever had.

“How do my thighs look right now, Bri?” you teased, rocking your hips again.

Brian smoothed his hands down them. “Like they belong to a goddess,” he panted, his hips bucking up against yours. “You’re fucking incredible.”

You groaned, rocking forward, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone. “Fuck.”

Brian laughed, and you looked to him quizzically. “What?”

“It’s just...” He laughed again, rubbing the back of one hand across the bridge of his nose. “It just suddenly hit me that we’re having sex right now.”

You blinked at him, registering his words, and then burst into laughter. “What the fuck do you think we’ve been doing?”

“No, I mean—“ Brian snorted, and he looked so pretty like this that you didn’t even think about leaning forward and tracing your fingers across his cheekbones and jaw. “I mean, I’ve been... wanting this, wanting you, for so long, and I thought I’d never have you. Like, ever. I’d just about resigned myself to just being quietly miserable whenever we hung out together, because I never thought that you’d ever go for me, of all people.” Your fingers moved to his lips, just resting over them, feeling them move as he spoke. “It just finally sunk in that this is really happening.”

“You’re a bit of a sap, aren’t you?” you joked.

Brian shrugged, glancing away. “Well, I just—“

“No, I was just being an arse,” you said with a smile. You pressed against his lips with more force, and he opened his mouth for you, playfully biting down on your fingers. Your smile stretched into a grin. “I feel the same.”

Brian’s lips closed over your fingers, and his tongue pushed between them, swirling around them. You were transfixed by it, feeling the way his tongue moved, and you began rocking your hips, just little movements. Curious, you pushed your fingers further into his mouth, down to the knuckles, and Brian moaned, his eyes sliding closed, taking them.

“Fuck,” you whispered, taking a shaky breath. You rocked with a little more force, and Brian moaned again, rolling his hips up to meet you. You pulled your fingers from his mouth, slowly, feeling his teeth scrape against your skin, and you said weakly, “You’re really good at that.”

Brian didn’t respond, flipping you over again and, before you barely even had time to register what had happened, he was fucking you hard into the mattress, slow and deep. You clutched onto him, overwhelmed by how good it felt, begging him to keep going, to fuck you harder, to come for you. You coasted on the edge of coming, the sweet spot of feeling both heady with arousal and unable to orgasm, and you clenched around Brian, making him curse and ram into you. He paused only momentarily to kiss you, and you smoothed his sweat-dampened curls from his face, and then he was fucking you again, chasing his release, and you wanted nothing more than to see his face when he came, to hear the sounds he would make. You bit into his shoulder, and his movements grew erratic, so you bit into his neck, then his shoulder again, and he moaned your name as he came. You pulled back and kissed him, smoothing back his hair again, and he ducked his head, kissing your neck. You shuddered, your body begging for more, and then Brian was answering what you’d never asked for, his fingers circling your clit, his lips pressing kisses down your neck, murmuring encouragements into your skin. You whined, feeling so sensitive but so desperate at the same time, and it didn’t take long for you to come, warmth washing over you.

Only then did Brian pull out of you and flop onto his back, beside you, and you both took a moment to breathe. You turned your head to look at him, and he turned his head to look at you, and you were both panting, beaming. You chuckled. “So that happened.”

Brian nodded. “Yeah. Wow. It really did.”

“And?” you said. “Did it live up to the hype?”

Brian shook his head, rolling his eyes at your phrasing. “Yes,” he said simply. “Exceeded it.”

“I’d have to say the same,” you said. You rolled onto your side, smoothing a hand over his stomach. “If I’m being honest.”

Brian’s hand moved to rest on top of yours. “Well, honesty is all I could ask for.”

You snuggled up closer to him, kissing his shoulder.

There was another moment of silence, and then Brian was getting to his feet with a groan, discarding the condom in the bin.

You sighed. “I’m exhausted now.”

“Yeah?” Brian said, looking unimpressed. “You’re exhausted?”

You played along, nodding. “Oh, yeah. I came three times tonight, you know.”

Brian crawled over you. “You did, did you?” He dropped a kiss to your lips. “And who made you come, hm?”

“No one important,” you said airily, and Brian nipped at your lips.

“You’re insufferable,” he said, kissing you again.

You hummed against his mouth in agreement, nodding, and you could feel him smile.

He broke away. “If you give me five minutes to catch my breath, I could arrange for you to come a few more times, if you’re interested,” he said.

You looked at him bewilderedly. “You’re not serious?”

He shrugged. “I’m serious if you want me to be.”

You considered it. “All right. Since we’re clearly going all-in here, I’ll take you up on the offer. If — I get to suck your dick tonight. I’m talking serious dick-sucking. Your brain is gonna melt out of your ears.”

Brian grinned. “Sounds good to me.” He sat back. “Are you thirsty? I’ll get us some water.”

“Yeah, all right,” you said. Brian climbed off the bed, pulled on his boxers, and disappeared around the corner.

You stared at the ceiling, taking the opportunity to figure out your thoughts. You and Brian had just slept together. You and Brian. The same Brian you’d been pining over for months. Your friend, your study buddy, your crush.

Tonight had been amazing. And it was going to continue to be amazing, until you were both just about dead from exhaustion, by the sounds of it.

But was tonight where it ended? Were you just an outlet for Brian? He’d said he’d wanted you for a long time, but were you just someone he thought was hot, and just wanted to bang? What was the next step? Was there going to be a next step? Should you expect one, or was that too much?

Brian returned with the waters, and you sat up. “Thanks,” you said as he handed you one, and you took a sip.

Brian had already drank half of his, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. You focused on your water.

After a minute or so of silence, Brian said, “Are you secretly freaking out about this as much as I am?”

You gulped down your mouthful. “A bit,” you admitted. “Why are you freaking out? You don’t... You’re not regretting it, are you?”

“No,” Brian said quickly. “God, no. Not at all. Quite the opposite, actually.”

You frowned. “The opposite?”

“I...” Brian hesitated. “Please don’t freak out.”

“I’m already freaking out,” you said, freaking out even more. What was he going to say? Was he going to kick you out and stop being friends with you?

“Well, uh, please don’t freak out directly in response to what I’m going to say.”

“No promises.”

Brian took a swig of water, looking like he wished it was something stronger. “I... I like you,” he said, avoiding your gaze. “More than a friend. I fancy you, really. I have for a while. But I understand if that’s not what you’re after, and I’m sorry for just being — presumptuous, I suppose. I should’ve clarified it earlier, and of course, if that’s not what you’re after, then tonight can just be a one-off, and we can forget about it, or we can laugh about it later, or whatever.”

“I like you too,” you said, and Brian’s head snapped up, and he looked so hopeful and happy that you just about died.

“You do?”

You nodded, unable to keep the grin off your face. “Yeah. Yeah, I like you.”

Brian leant forward and kissed you, almost sloshing water all over the sheets. He pulled back, gazing at you adoringly, and your heart just about stopped in your chest. You laced your fingers together, and pressed your lips to the back of his hand. It felt right, holding his hand. Like there’d been a missing puzzle piece in your life, and you’d finally found it and slotted it into place.

He set his water down on the bedside table, and then took your glass from you, putting it down beside his. “I really do hope that none of the others plan on coming home tonight,” he said, squeezing your hand. “I have a lot planned for you.”

“We’ve got time,” you said, and you couldn’t believe that it was true. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“I know,” Brian said with a shrug and a cheeky smile. “But we’ve got time now, too, don’t we?”

He tugged you over for a kiss, and you threw your arms around his neck. You knew that the boys would immediately clock what had happened when they saw you still at their place tomorrow, and the hickeys dotting your body, but you didn’t care. It didn’t matter. You had Brian, and his beautiful hands and gorgeous face and wonderful dick. It was all yours now. And you weren’t ever letting it go.

#wow this was a THROWBACK to read through and edit again!#forgot how much i liked this one #mine #brian may x reader #queen fanfiction #rpf #smut

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