#been so busy w my final exam this morning & then coming home to the news of all that in nottingham that it's now 6.30pm and i'm only now

[thedissociatives]

.

[aalissy]

Game Night

Day 3 is done! This does contain spoilers for Truth so if you haven’t seen that episode yet please do before reading this!! That being said I need more reveals like this hehe. Anywho, I hope you enjoy <3 <3

AO3

About to enter her first class of the day, Marinette was paused in her tracks by an arm yanking on hers. She let out a startled yelp as she was dragged away from the classroom door before she turned around and met the wide eyes of Alya. With a small scowl, Marinette rubbed on her arm after her best friend let her go. Giving a small huff, she pouted, “What was that for? For the first time ever I’m on time to class and now we’re going to be late!”

“I need to speak to you,” her friend said urgently, a look of regret entering into her hazel eyes.

Marinette nodded quickly, “Ok. Is something wrong?”

“Kind of,” Alya ran a hand through her hair frustratedly, “I know we haven’t been able to hang out as much because you’ve been busy with the bakery and homework. I mean, that’s why we set up the games night later because you, me, Adrien, and Nino are all finally free today.”

“Oh no,” she sighed quietly, “Can you guys not make it?”

Alya glanced away before meeting Marinette’s gaze once again, “Well, here’s the thing... Nino and I can’t come because I suddenly got swamped with babysitting the twins and he got grounded after we got our exams back. But, Adrien’s still free.”

“I don’t know, Alya,” Marinette murmured, her eyes glancing down at the floor as she nibbled on her lip, “It’s not going to be as much fun without you and Nino and I still have a lot of work to catch up on anyway. Don’t you think I should just cancel and reschedule for a different time?”

“No way, girl!” She spoke decisively, “You’re almost never free and you’ve been absent from all of our recent meetings! You need to have some relaxation time.”

Marinette shifted uncomfortably, “But it would be just me and Adrien. You know I’m still working on just being his friend and Luka and I broke up not that long ago.”

“Which is why you should totally do this!” Alya gave her a wide smile, reaching out to squeeze her shoulders tightly, “Prove to yourself that you really can be a great friend to him. And besides, it’s not like you and Adrien have never played video games together alone before.”

She giggled, shaking her head amusedly at her friend, “Alright, I’ll do it. But only because you’re right. I really do need to spend some time with friends. I swear I’m going to die from stress alone.”

“I don’t know how you do it girl,” Alya bumped her shoulder with hers playfully as they began to walk back to their classroom.

“Me neither,” Marinette sighed quietly to herself. Sliding into her seat, however, she turned back to Alya, “We are definitely going to need to find another time where it can be all four of us though.”

Alya nodded her head quickly, “Oh, of course! I’ve finally learned a few tricks in Ultimate Mecha Strike III that I think might let me win a few rounds against you.”

“Psh, good luck with that!” Marinette snickered quietly to herself before their teacher entered the classroom and began her lesson.

Listening to her lectures that day was a lot more difficult. Half of her thoughts were still stuck on whether or not she would be able to handle acting like she was just a friend to Adrien. The other half of her thoughts were plotting. Where she’d go if there was an akuma attack, how she was going to keep the miracle box away from Adrien’s sight, and how to keep the kwamis quiet during their playthroughs.

Marinette still scribbled down notes, of course, but every so often she would glance out the window during her lectures, certain that there would be another akuma attack to ruin her day. Her leg jostled restlessly throughout the entire day, hoping that Hawkmoth would send it before her game night with Adrien.

No akuma came, however, and Marinette was left to sigh silently to herself as she trudged out of the classroom, positive that Hawkmoth was just delaying the inevitable. The warm sunlight that beamed down upon her face when she stepped outside didn’t do much to lighten her mood. She was about to begin her walk to the bakery when a hand touched her shoulder.

With a startled yelp, Marinette whirled around, meeting the wide, green, sheepish eyes of Adrien Agreste. He gave her a crooked smile before rubbing the back of his neck, “Sorry, Marinette. I couldn’t help but notice though that you looked down. Is something wrong?”

“No, no, I’m fine!” She panted out, a hand on her chest as she attempted to calm her racing heart rate. Feeling awkward, she tugged on her backpack straps, “W-well, I mean, I am kind of upset that Nino and Alya can’t make our games night. Did you hear?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, “Nino told me, and actually that’s what I came over to talk to you about.”

Marinette felt a relieved smile form on her face. He was going to cancel too, wasn’t he? Good, that meant she could spend more time preparing for Hawkmoth’s akuma. She ignored the brush of disappointment that she felt over yet another missed opportunity to spend time with friends and opened her mouth to tell him she was fine with him canceling.

He stopped her before she could, though, beaming down excitedly at her, “Do you mind if I go home first and drop my stuff off before meeting you at the bakery?”

Oh. Marinette blinked a few times. He wasn’t canceling on her. Happiness filled her as a small smile formed on her face. Hawkmoth and her duties as Ladybug could wait for one afternoon then. Alya was right, she really needed a night out with friends.

Her smile grew wider and more teasing as she nodded, “Of course not, Adrien. Take all the time you need before you come over and get absolutely destroyed.”

“Hey!” he said mock-offendedly, “I’ll have you know that I’ve gotten a lot better since the last time we played against each other. Who knows, I might even surprise you.”

Adrien gave her a playful wink and she quickly shoved down the flurry of butterflies she felt begin to swirl around her stomach. No! They were friends. Just friends.

“Good luck then,” Marinette laughed, “I’m looking forward to those new tricks you have up your sleeve.”

Adrien chuckled with her before giving her a quick wave, “See you soon then, Marinette.”

“See you soon, Adrien,” she gave a small nod, the beginnings of a dreamy smile forming on her lips before she pursed them, scolding herself internally. Turning around, she began to head towards the bakery. As she got farther and farther away from him, though, Marinette began to sink deeper into her thoughts once again. Unable to stop herself, she looked around for any signs of a familiar, black butterfly.

Funny how Chat and Adrien were the only two who could manage to take her mind off of everything. Looking behind her, Marinette managed to catch a glimpse of the black limo slowly pulling away from the school. Taking a deep breath, she attempted to calm herself down as anxiety and stress ate away at her.

I can do this, she thought to herself, I have a plan and I’m ready for anything Hawkmoth sends my way. With those last determined thoughts, Marinette turned decisively back to the bakery and continued her trek home.

Saying hello to her parents when she finally arrived, she quickly made her way to her room. Once there, she ran over to where she hid the Miracle Box, checking to make certain that it was still hidden. Breathing out a sigh of relief when it was, Marinette collapsed into her desk chair. She sent a small, lonely glance at the other three chairs that she had set up earlier this morning. Pushing herself up, she began slowly moving two of them out of the way.

“Next time,” she murmured to herself before standing up straight with a long stretch. Marinette yawned quietly as she looked outside her window anxiously. She’d know if an akuma began to attack Paris, right? I mean, there was no way she’d get too swept up in her night with Adrien that she’d miss an akuma attack.

Nibbling on her lip, her thoughts strayed even further. What if she did make it to the battle too late? What if one day she wasn’t there and Chat got hurt. Marinette’s lip wobbled as a lump settled in her throat. This was such a bad idea! What had she been thinking?! She didn’t have time to goof off. There was only Ladybug and saving Paris.

Her eyes shot over to the hidden Miracle Box before a voice shouted close to her ear, “Boo!”

Jumping into the air, Marinette yelped for the third time that day. Forgetting where she was, she reached behind her, grabbing onto something before throwing it over her shoulder with all her strength. Her blue eyes widened as she saw everything happen in slow motion. It was Adrien whom she just threw over her shoulder.

In that split second where he was falling, however, Marinette would have sworn that she saw another familiar, blonde boy flying through the air. Instinctively, she reached for the yo-yo at her side, only for her hand to wrap around nothing. Instead, she could do nothing to stop Adrien’s crash as he hit the ground. Wincing as she heard him groan quietly, Marinette quickly rushed over to him.

All of her previous fears and anxiety were completely gone as she peered down at him in worry. A stunned look was in his emerald green eyes as he looked up at her. Crouching down, she spoke panickedly as she looked for any broken bones, “Oh my god, Adrien are you alright?! Did I hurt you?!”

“No,” he wheezed out, “Besides, it was my fault for scaring you.”

Marinette leaned back as he slowly began to sit up. She examined his face and body worriedly as she gnawed on her lower lip, “A-are you sure? That was a pretty nasty fall.”

Adrien rubbed the back of his head as he chuckled lightly, “Yeah, I’m okay. I think I’m getting used to it now.”

They both froze, blinking at each other slowly. Neither spoke as they sat in a tense silence. Surely not, Marinette thought to herself as her brow furrowed. Attempting to brush off the tension that had suddenly entered the small room, she stood up. Brushing herself off, she offered a hand down to Adrien, “I-I’m still really sorry about that, Adrien. I-I didn’t mean to throw you at all, I just didn’t notice you come in.”

Instead of taking her hand, he continued to stare up at her for a few seconds, a small furrow between his eyebrows as he looked up at her. It was only when she managed to tear her eyes away from his piercing gaze, shifting uncomfortably that Adrien took her hand, using it to pull himself up.

With a small gulp, Marinette looked back towards him. He was smiling and relief filled her as she realized she hadn’t completely broken him. Giving him a small grin back, she motioned her head towards her computer, “D-do you want to play now or should I see if I can get you some painkillers.”

“No, I’m fine,” Adrien shook his head, the smile still on his lips, “I think I’m ready to get ‘destroyed by you now.’” He laughed as he copied her words from earlier.

Marinette’s face flushed as she quickly turned to the computer. Logging into the game, she handed him the controller silently. He took it from her with another small, grateful smile.

As they began to play a round together, she lost herself in the motion of the game. Her fingers moved automatically over the controller as she tried to brush the wave of familiarity screaming at her away. Like she had predicted before, she won easily. Too easily. Adrien’s movements were jerky and disjointed and Marinette shot him a suspicious glare.

“Where were those fancy moves you promised me earlier?” She raised an eyebrow at him, “Those were worse than usual, Adrien.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “I think I’m still a little dizzy after that fall.”

Immediately, her face fell. Standing up, Marinette put her controller down, “I knew you needed painkillers. I’m so sorry for making you play with me, Adrien. Maybe you should go home and rest.”

“No!” he practically shouted, grabbing onto her wrist as she turned to scramble her way downstairs. Her mouth fell open in shock, staring at him in bewildered confusion after his latest outburst. Adrien blushed and then spoke in a softer tone, “I-I mean, no. I’m fine, I promise.”

Marinette huffed with a small amount of frustration, “Adrien, you just told me you got dizzy playing a game. You’re not okay! I’ll be right bac-”

“Where did you learn how to do that?” He cut her off, staring at her intensely.

Her jaw dropped open once again, eyes moving from his down to the hand still holding her wrist before she looked away from him completely. I’m a superhero and I go gallivanting around saving the city, Marinette thought to herself as her lips twitched slightly.

Bringing her gaze back to his, she cleared her throat, “W-well, um, I-I take, uh self-defense! Yeah, self-defense!”

“Really?” Adrien asked as a knowing grin began to spread across his face.

Once again, Marinette felt a wave of familiarity before she shook herself from those thoughts. Nodding her head quickly, she gave a wide, awkward smile, “Really. S-so, c-can I go get you some painkillers now.”

“No,” he spoke simply, squeezing her wrist before he stood up, looking down at her with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, “I feel completely fine now.”

“But you just said...” She trailed off, frowning with confusion.

“Seriously, Marinette, don’t worry. I told you I’m used to it by now,” Adrien shrugged, a soft smile on his lips.

She giggled uncomfortably, glancing away from him and his sparkling eyes. It felt like something was on the tip of her tongue. Something important that she should know but just couldn’t connect. Shifting uncomfortably, Marinette murmured, “You make it sound like you get thrown around by girls often.”

“Hmm,” Adrien hummed, tilting his head as he considered her words, “Maybe not often. But it is weird that it’s happened twice now.”

Marinette snapped her gaze back to his, her eyes narrowing as a spark of something flared up within her, “Then maybe you should stop sneaking up and scaring people.”

She blinked a few times, her hand coming to press against her lips. Why had she just said that? Opening her mouth to apologize for essentially blaming him after she was the one who flipped him, Marinette was cut off by Adrien wrapping her up in a giant hug.

“It is you,” he whispered softly in her ear.

For a brief moment, she tensed up before everything clicked. Oh. Everything made sense now. Of course, her kitty was Adrien. Marinette reached up to hug him back just as tightly before she buried her head in his shoulder.

“Chaton,” she murmured softly, nuzzling into him as she felt his warmth seep into her. Every last worry that she had melted away as she realized she had someone else she could confide in now.

“M’lady,” Adrien spoke quietly back, causing her to sniffle happily.

Eventually, they both pulled back, staring back at each other with wide, adoring smiles fixed on their faces. Just as Adrien opened his mouth to speak, a crash sounded outside on the streets. Both of their gazes snapped to the window before they looked back at each other. A silent understanding filled them both as they nodded at each other.

“Later,” Marinette spoke first, before calling on her transformation. Adrien did the same and she felt relief fill her as she felt less alone for the first time in so long. She could do this. With him by her side, she could do anything.

[that-cheer-up-anon]

Finally home at 7:20pm and man. Today was just NOT GOOD.

This morning I had a crap breakfast (mostly just me chugging milk so I had something in my stomach for my antidepressant) an early doctor appointment, which I them had to immediately go to work bc they asked me to come an hour earlier than I was expecting. Didn't get a lunch break bc I keep forgetting to take a break, so that didn't help.

I was just. Struggling so hard. My anxiety and suicidal thoughts were just flowing over from yesterday really bad. Basically all of my rooms were given to somebody else bc I couldn't even fully complete one room. I didn't even get to do my stayovers (easy rooms) bc I was struggling so bad.

We were out of SO MANY THINGS. Like BED SHEETS. The FIRST THING you do when you clean. So I was already madly thrown off from the get go. It got so bad that I had a supervisor come to help me and then a second one bc the first was meant to be done for the day. Also they said "I'm Helping Ella" and "she's struggling" in the same message. She also told me to I go to the boss and request a partner bc I wasn't ready. They also asked if it was my first or second day. I've been here a week.

They both asked what was up w me and I just.

I wanted to jump out the window.

I tried to hold back so many dang breakdowns over beddings bc I was finding it just SO DAMN HARD, and every supervisor that came after my room that I was around to hear hated my beds.

Like if you hate my lumpy wrinkly beds so much TEACH ME SO I DON'T HAVE TO KEEP HEARING HOW SHIT THEY ARE! TEACH ME SO I DON'T KEEP BEATING MYSELF UP OVER HOW I'M A DISGRACE TO THE HOTEL AND FEEL LIKE I'M LETTING DOWN MY COWORKERS AND GUESTS!

It's not my fault I wasn't properly trained! I was given a partner on my first day who had only been there 2 weeks. She taught me how to do the beds ONCE, but I was slowing her down so she kept doing the beds and didn't teach me. The next day I was paired up w someone as new as me. Then I was basically left on my own from then on.

I HATE DUVET COVERS!!!! ALSO I tried to look up how to do hotel bed videos and NOBODY EVER TUCKS THE DUVET IN LIKE I HAVE TO AT WORK! NOT EVEN OTHER 5 STAR HOTELS. I'm starting to think WE'RE the crazy ones tucking in the duvets!

Anyways, cried in front of the boss. Got told off for being a sucky communicator, even though I did ask for assistance in the group chat but nobody got back to me. I will admit that I need to be better at communicating though. My anxiety definitely did not help. Constantly felt like a let down and that I was gonna be fired for asking for help.

Luckily got partnered up for the rest of the day, but man, was today rough. Tomorrow I'm getting paired up again (thank goodness). Everyone asked me what was going on w me today and I honestly just. IDK! I'VE JUST BEEN STUPID CRAZY UNENDINGLY STRESSED AND HYPERVIGILANT AND IN SURVIVAL MODE FOR FAR TOO LONG BUT I CAN'T LET UP ON IT OTHERWISE I WILL DIE!!!!

My brain won't shut up! Ever! Even when I'm busy at work. I'm having thoughts of missing people, me also trying to play music in my head, anxiety about work and coworkers, worries and thoughts about salary, bills, where I'm gonna move, if I'll manage to keep ahold of this job, is it worth trying to get a second worse paying job but is in walking distance? But then what about when I move out? Is it worth trying to get that second job if I'm going to hopefully be moving out within the year where it's no longer going to be a convenient place to work? I don't have time for my hobbies bc I'm trying to work and get money but I also need a break to do chores and Beauty schoo research exam, but also if I take a break what if my job fires me? I don't know the next time I'll have a job, and trying to remember what I was just doing ALL AT THE SAME TIME.

I wish I could listen to music to help distract my brain but then I'll lose track of time and blah blah blah ADHD issues. And we're not meant to have earphones bc we need to be able to hear alarms and I don't have wireless earphones.

Whatever. Tomorrow will be better. Hopefully less tears

[annaofthenorthernlights]

It´s your life

Chapter 6

New home

Setting: Kristanna - Modern AU

Rating for this chapter: M (mentioning of sexual actions, this time at the end…🙃)

Word counting: 2738

Previous chapters (on AO3)

Summary: When Anna had finished unpacking her suitcases, she felt even more at home. She wondered what it would be like to live here for the rest of her life. The thought made her smile, but was she allowed to think that way then?

Another note at the end of chapter…

Again, Anna stood before her suitcases and bags, that waited to get unpacked. She looked around the room. Kristoff must have rearranged his shelf and cupboard in his bedroom, to provide some space for her personal belongings. She liked her new surroundings. The three-room flat was situated right above the neat little carpentry. It was a cosy place.

Kristoff and Sven had got the chance to purchase the whole complex one year ago, when the former owner simply got too old to run the workshop any longer. The old carpenter had been delighted to leave the whole building to the young newcomers and had asked a fair price, that was in the reach to pay off in due time, if their work would flourish soon enough. And with the new project on plan, they would get good chances to make themselves a respectable name in near time. Sven himself lived next to his parents further down the town.

Kristoff and Sven had just met the project manager for the new construction site today to sign the contract for their involvement in this development. She had been so proud of him and was happy for her.

When Anna had finished unpacking her suitcases, she felt even more at home. She wondered what it would be like to live here for the rest of her life. The thought made her smile, but was she allowed to think that way then? She gnawed on her lips and sat down on the bed and let herself fall backwards to stare at the ceiling. Where would she be supposed to go from here? She didn´t want to be in the way or sort of intruder. But when she had called Kristoff right after she had left the family estate, he had not hesitated a second to announce his coming over to pick her up. Apparently, he was happy to have her here. Anna felt a gratefulness that reached deep within her, like a warm bath she could dwell in and relax, letting all anxiety drift away bit by bit.

The box with her study books sat in the corner. Anna sat up and thought for a moment. Yes, she would finish her studies, pass her finals best she could. But there was no reason not to look for a job in the meanwhile, to make her own living. To start her new gained life with some useful tasks.

And when she heard Kristoff rummaging in the kitchen with pans and plates, she decided to give her newfound freedom a good push start.

*****

It had been a troubled moment when Anna had called him right after his lunch break. She had been shaken; Kristoff could tell. But then, had he not expected such a call, and had he not secretly favoured it to be so? Not that he wanted his girlfriend to be devastated, the way she had got kicked out, not at all. But she was here now, with him, and he so hoped Anna would consider this her home, too. But then, compared to her former home… there was not much he had to offer. So, it had touched him deeply that she had just said this to him two hours ago.

“This is all. There´s not much left… I´ve nothing to bring, Kristoff… Nothing to offer that makes me a great catch to be taken home with. Will you still have me?” She had said. If only she would understand how happy he was having her.

He thought of the little gift box that was stored in his living room desk by now. He had carried it around so many times already. If only he could manage to find the right moment to ask her… But then, she surely needed to settle, to get acquainted with her life, that had just turned upside down within a few hours. How could he come her way now and ask her to join his world without her having figured out her own in the first place…

Kristoff had not heard Anna´s approaching and was occupied with the food on the stove, when two slender arms reached around his waist and a small body leaned in against his back. He smiled at this tender touch and patted Anna´s hands on his chest. It felt good, so good, to have her here.

“Have I thanked you already for taking me in?” She nuzzled into his shoulder blades.

Kristoff turned his head sideways and cooed to her, “have I told you how happy I am of having you here?” He shifted slightly to turn down the gas, shoved the pans to the side and turned within her embrace just to pull her close and burry his lips in her hair.

Gosh, I love you! I want to marry you, make you happy, start a family of our own… laugh with you, cry with you, grow old together, keep each other warm during cold nights…

If only he knew the right moment to ask her…

“Are you hungry? Dinner´s ready.”

*****

“Please, Anna, you don´t need to prove anything to me. Why don´t you just concentrate on your final exams for the upcoming weeks and be my guest for the meanwhile?”

“But I don´t want to be some sort of house sitter.” Anna gnawed on her lips, while turning her napkin in her hands. “You are so generous to me; I mean you shifted your things to leave some space to my stuff and on top of all you serve me the best food one could possibly get in this town. I want to contribute!”

Kristoff sighed and reached forward to lay his hand on hers.

“I know you do. But honestly Anna, I mean it. Take your time to look around and whenever you find something suitable, we can figure out how to proceed. I love having you here with me. And I will not hesitate to tell you every day if necessary. Besides, I always thought relationship is about being there for each other.”

Anna couldn´t help but smile at Kristoff with sparkling eyes. His words had stirred something within her. What if I could stay here forever? But yes, she needed to proceed for now, and to be hosted by this wonderful man was the greatest gift she was allowed to accept right now.

“Thank you!” She said simply. “I promise to concentrate on those upcoming weeks. But please let me at least share some chores with you. Imagine me proofing to you of being a capable housekeeper?” She giggled and waved off the thought with rolling eyes.

Kristoff grinned and remarked laughing, “go ahead. My home is your castle.”

Anna thought for a moment and tilted her head with a smirk.

“Suggestion for this first night… You know, I´m off the rag again.”

*****

Kristoff sat at the bedside and bent down to kiss his sweetheart awake. Not that easy a task, for Anna was a good sleeper. He didn´t mind. She was here and it was important that she feel safe and home. So, a good night rest would do her any good.

“Hey beautiful, good morning.” He cooed to her ear.

A mumbling something came from underneath a mess of red hair.

“I must head down for work. Breakfast is still on the table. Will you be alright? If you need anything don´t hesitate to come down, will you? Or give me a call. Yes?”

The mass of red hair moved slightly, and some part of a face came to sight, eyes still closed but the lips forming a “goo-mon… iwill… thx…”

A good hour later, after a shower and some crunchy oatmeal for the start, Anna sat over her books again. There was not lecture in today, so she could make herself a good home study day, which – at the end – turned out to be not very efficient. While she could hear the sawing machine and hammering and screwing activities from downstairs, Anna cherished the realisation of being where she was.

Though, her thoughts would wander off to here and there. Rewinding memory of the encounter with her grandfather popped into her mind. Then, she mused over how and what Elsa might be up to by now. Anna grabbed her mobile and checked her messages. There was nothing from her sister. She hesitated first, but then she sent off a quick note to Elsa, just saying that she was fine and sitting over her books (after all and at least, her study library was spread out before her, so it was no lie).

But most of all Anna could not help remembering Kristoff surprising her with that unforgettable trip to Disneyland. The memory of their partaking in those two parades made her dream off all along. It had been miraculous. It was just then, that she remembered her idea of the photo that must hang out as their reminder. Anna connected her mobile with Kristoff´s printer and looked through the drawers for suitable print paper. Ah, there it was. She reached for the pile of postcard sized photopaper, just to spot a little purple giftbox with a tiny fake sunflower on top, that lay neatly stored right behind the paper pile.

She was always told not to be nosy. Of course, she would not rummage within Kristoff´s belongings. She hastily pushed the drawer close and sat straight to commit herself on printing her pictures. The printer rattled and the photos ended up in the tray. No, she would not peep… But then, she had to put back the left-over photo papers. Okay, close your eyes, pull open the drawer and put back the pile. No. The pile must lay just the way you´ve found it. So then, pull open the drawer, concentrate on the paper pile in the front and then quickly shut that dam drawer!

The rest of the morning, Anna spent crafting a neat little frame for the special picture. She had pulled out a sheet of paper from her study paper and kept crafting and colouring little paper flowers and hearts along the hemline. Then, she glued the photo in the middle, and it was perfect. Around lunchtime she was done, and the lovely memory stuck to the refrigerator (Mickey and Minnie Mouse with Kristoff in the middle).

All the while she had been busy and distracted, concentrating dreamingly on her first contribution to add a little something to her new home. But now? She should go back over her books… What was in that little box?!

It was time for lunch and Kristoff and Sven were waiting. She´d better leave… That box…

*****

“Look, what we´ve got!” Kristoff beckoned Anna closer, when she had come down the stairs. She stepped closer to notice him looking at some piece of paper in his hand, shaking his head smiling. He showed her the content of the received post.

Anna gasped loudly and put a hand to her chest. “Oh my gosh, that´s so neat!” She grabbed at the photograph, that showed them both in costume. They were sitting on the sled and Kristoff had placed his arm around her shoulder, while Anna had put a hand on his knee. They were smiling at each other. It was a zoomed in pic and it was so loveable. A wonderful addition to the Mouse-family!

“Matthias has sent a little note with the picture,” Kristoff continued, “if we were ever looking for a job at Disneyland, we should just give him a call.” He laughed and placed a hand at her shoulder blades.

Anna withdraw her eyes from the wonderful picture and beamed up at him, chirping “good to know! If nothing works, I´d give it a try. Would be lovely to see Honeymaren again, anyway.”

Don´t look to much in his eyes, you will ask… Don´t ask what´s in that box…. Don´t!!!!

Luckily, Sven came in to give her a gentle hug and then they headed for a quick lunch break at the coffee shop around the corner.

Anna was determined to go over her lecture prep for the next day. She must concentrate and focus on her duty… If only she wasn´t so nosy… What if she just peeped a tiny little bit? No! She wouldn´t! For some reason, the little gift was in there. What if it was simply an empty box, waiting for a content? No. She wouldn´t peep… If it was meant to be for her in the first place… The surprise would be worth it! If…

*****

It was her second night in her new home and Anna felt content all over. She was about to get ready for bed and finished her evening routine in the bathroom. While brushing her teeth, she thought of the early evening. Kristoff had smiled at her craft work at the refrigerator and mentioned with a grin that her proof of good housekeeping was paying off already. He had earned himself a good playful punch to his upper arm for that. He hadn´t asked where she had got the photo paper from. Maybe he had been too tired from his work to think of the drawer. A thought hit her mind and she nearly dropped the toothbrush. What if he wouldn´t remember the giftbox? What if he had stored it in there ages ago and had forgotten about it? Okay, stop that brooding! And most of all – don´t say anything about it! You´re not nosy! Best you go to sleep right away!

When Anna came into the bedroom, Kristoff sat on the bed, looking at his mobile. He wore his boxer shorts as always and nothing else. He looked so dam good. Anna couldn´t go to sleep right away like that…

“Sven has texted just before,” Kristoff remarked glancing at her, “he invited us over to his place for tomorrow evening. His sister is coming and would love to see us again.”

“Ah, Susan, yes, that be lovely.” Anna exclaimed and shifted herself closer to Kristoff.

He put his mobile on the bedside table and offered her an embrace, which she eagerly responded by snuggling herself even closer.

“Are you alright so far?” Kristoff asked, while running a hand through her hair, and placing his lips to her forehead.

“Thank you yes. I think I will be fine with the final lectures coming up. I´m so glad to be here. It´s like a lucky twist of things, that I can learn without pressure and know I´m appreciated for who I am and not for what I achieve.”

Kristoff sighed and increased his embrace to confirm his appreciation. “I´m glad you´re comfy here. And I hope you can let go of what has been implicated on you. Maybe time will help. Hey, your family loves you, I´m sure. They just can´t get beyond their boundaries. That´s sad enough.”

Anna smiled into his chest and pressed a kiss to this broad ripcage. “Yes, thank you, I know. I have texted Elsa today that I´m fine and she´d replied I should contact her when I feel like it. I guess I will call her soon. After all, she always cared in her way.”

But for now, Anna didn´t feel like any more talking. There was another urge within her to show her affection and appreciation of the man that had been so loving to her all this time and who would sweep her off her feet in his ways! No matter, what was in that box…

So, she continued her tender work, shifting to straddle his lap, kissing his chest and neck all the while. By now Kristoff had placed his hands on her hips and was fiddling to pull up her nightshirt. Anna moved her hips and then freed herself completely from the gown.

They would run tender hands along their bodies, Anna lowered herself to press her lips to his. She circled her hips on his lap, favouring his hardness increasingly pushing up against her sensitive skin. Her hard nipples touched his chest and the soft groan from his throat sent an electrifying shiver down her abdomen. Kristoff embraced his girlfriend gently but firm and turned them both over to the side. Anna helped to pull off his pants and welcomed him eagerly and ready to unite.

And when they loved each other tenderly with Kristoff whispering “I love you” in her ear, Anna felt herself at home just so much more.

*****

Note: This fic is still dedicated to @justfrozenthings; sometimes we´re meant to concentrate on things... but for some reason we get distracted… Wait, where´s my mind gone…? 😊 And, what´s in that giftbox...🤪 => The next (and probably last) chapter should solve the unnerving curiousness 🤗

[your-highnessmarvel]

For Better or For Worse

Requested by Anonymous: Now we ALL know Chris wants kids. If you don’t know that you’re not a real fan. But what about a fic where the reader can’t have kids and she wants to break up with Chris because she thinks that’s what’s best for him?

AN: ok this is like... really angsty and i got carried away in it and idk... im kinda sad today. on another note! i got a B+ on an essay exam i thought i canned so yay

Warnings: angst, language

*gif not mine

Enjoyed this and want more? Send in your requests!

Request Guidelines

MASTERLIST

You reread the text message again.

Hey baby. Sorry for not being able to make it today with you. I am hopeful! Let me know as soon as you get out! <3

Your left knee bounced. Your stomach twisted. The TV in the left corner of the room buzzed some news about COVID-19, but you couldn’t care less. A stranger next to you shuffled his feet and it was so loud. It resonated in your skull, climbing down your spine. 

“Y/N?”

Your head snapped up. The doctor stood with a smile on her face, dossier in hand, door open behind her. 

“Yes,” you said. 

“Come with me.”

You followed her through the door, the back of her white lab coat stark. It felt like you were following her to your doom; to the pits of hell and beyond. Your heart raced as you passed through the familiar doors and sat on the same leather chair as before. 

But last time you were with Chris. Last time, he was here, holding your hand, as nervous as you were. 

“Okay, Y/N, how are we doing today?” the doctor asked, sitting directly in front of you. You had a queasy feeling, watching her sparkling white smile and her vivid eyes. 

Did she have good news?

“Nervous,” you admitted. Your mouth was dry. You just wanted to know the results. 

The doctor’s face went soft and she opened the dossier, revealing a small stack of papers; all the tests you’d done with her. 

“It is as we feared, Y/N,” she said, hands on the table. “All the tests show that your eggs are barren. I am very sorry. I know how much having a child of your own means to you and your husband, and I know this must be terrible news. There are, however, alternatives, like adoption.”

There was a burning so intense in your chest that you feared you’d pass out. It was like someone lit a fire between your ribs and was cooking you from the inside out. Involuntary tears spilled from the edges of your eyes, gliding down your cheeks, clinging to your jaw as desperately as you’d clung to the hope of baring Chris’s children. 

Your hands balled into fists. Eyes closed. Breathing slowed. You could hear the doctor speaking, but it was as if through water. She was saying something about this process of multiple tests, all of them negative, proving that you really wanted to be a mother and that would be a plus on the adoption forms and you’d be considered a good candidate. 

You didn’t want to adopt! You wanted to conceive a child, half of you and half of Chris. To have a piece that was the both of you, together. To see if your child would have Chris’s smile or your hair or his little dimples. You wanted to see which part of your character they’d inherit. Or maybe they’d be more like Chris. 

“I...” You looked up through tear filled eyes, but only say the shape of the doctor who’d just told you you’d never have children of your own. “I’m going to go.”

“Would you like me to call your husband?” she asked, seeing your state. 

“No.”

The last thing you needed was to tell Chris right now. He’d been so hopeful that this final test, this final and last try would be a miracle. Even if it was just one child, one would be enough, one would be your saving grace. 

He’d hate you. Of course he would. With time. There is not a thing in the world Chris wanted more than children. Little boys and girls running around, playing hide-and-seek. Teaching his daughter to drive. Teaching his son to cope with his feelings in a healthy way. Showing his kids the aquarium. Snow fights. Autumn leaf piles. Swings. Sand boxes.

He’d resent you. Of course he would. With time. He’d find a way to leave you because he couldn’t stand to know his biggest wish was dead. He’d marry someone else, someone fertile, someone able to give him a piece of himself fused with a woman he loved. 

He’d forget you. Of course he would. With time. After his children would be born and they would grow up in front of his eyes, he’d forget the woman with a rotten womb and empty ovaries. 

You hadn’t noticed, but you’d somehow managed to walk out of the office, down the stairs, and out into the parking. The sun was out, high, hot. Sweat formed on your forehead, in the palm of your hands, behind your knees. 

You had a sudden, harsh thought. You knew exactly what to do. 

You texted Chris to call you when he had the time. You got into your car, like a ghost, like a phantom, and sat there holding the wheel. It was warm and hard, the heat of the summer cooking up the car. You looked in the rearview, at the empty backseat. There would never be a little one sitting there, in a baby seat or as a kid or as a teenager with their friends. 

There would never be.

The phone rang. 

“Hello.”

“Hey, babe, how did it go?” There was so much hope in his voice; the ring of his tone and the cracking. He had so much hope and you were about to squash it between your fingers like ants. 

“Where are you?” You tried to sound normal, neutral, but there were still tears drying on your cheeks. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Chris, where are you?” Now, you sounded angry, impatient, and you hated it, hated the way you were talking to him. He didn’t deserve it. 

He gave you the place he was at. “It’s a set so come by the back gate and I’ll be waiting there, okay?” His voice was harsher, less hopeful, and there was a hint of knowing. Knowing exactly what you were coming to say. 

You drove there in silence. No music. No humming. Catatonic. Your mind was blank, the roads busy, the streetlights bright, your thoughts a mess. There was an ache in your stomach, deep and hurting, as if you’d been cut open from sternum to belly button, and the wound was festering. 

You were minutes away from ending the most beautiful part of your life. 

You parked awkwardly on a curb but who cares. The little walk from your car to the gate was hard, your knees trembling, feet numb. Chris was waiting at the gate to let you in, a wary look tearing his features apart. 

As soon as you were through, he put his arm around your shoulders and kissed your forehead. “Y/N,” he mumbled. “Are you okay?”

He smelled so familiar and felt like an anchor. It was an instinct to lean in, forehead against the crook of his shoulder. It was all so familiar. The glint of the ring on his finger. The smell of the detergent he used at home, the one you washed all your clothes in. 

“Can we talk in private?”

His eyes slid down to the ground, a tick in his jaw. He knew. But he didn’t know all. “Oh, baby,” he murmured, but pulled you along to his trailer. 

Inside, it smelled like his cologne. There were a few dirty dishes in the sink and you smiled because Chris never liked to wash his dishes and you were always the one picking up after him. He liked to vacuum though, and it showed in the pristine floors and sparkling shelves that he’d dusted. 

He grabbed your hand and led you to the couch. He sat beside you, shoulders turned to you, eyes searching your face. He saw the dried tears. The trembling lower lip. 

“It was negative?” he asked lowly, running his fingers over your knuckles. 

“Yeah.” You bit your lip. “Again.” 

He sighed and leaned his head on your shoulder. There was a moment of silence where you just stared at the blank TV screen, listening to Chris breathing against you. 

“We’ll find another way,” he said, lifting his head. “We’ll go through another round of IV.”

You shook your head. “The doctor said I’m barren, Chris,” you said, fighting tears. “There is literally nothing we can do anymore.”

He grabbed your hand with both of his. “Adoption.” He said it as if it was a miracle cure. 

“No, Chris, I want a child of our own.” You bit your lip, tears fighting to slip from your lashes. “A little girl with blue eyes or a little boy who is as stubborn as me.” And this time, you did cry. And you saw just how hard Chris was fighting his own. 

“It’s alright, baby, hey.” He took your head in his arms, bringing you against the safety of his stern chest. 

You let yourself sob against him, wetting his sweater, grasping onto his shoulder. He rubbed his hand up and down your back. He set his wet cheek against the top of your head. 

Hiccuping, you pulled away from him, wringing your hands. “Chris, I... I’m...” you trailed off, raking a hand through your hair. “I’m gonna... go live with my mom for a bit.”

He frowned deeply, suddenly changing from sad to confused in a matter of milliseconds. 

“No, Y/N, no, no, why?” He leaned in, looking at you deeply, blue eyes searching yours. He held onto your hand so tightly it almost hurt. 

“Chris, you don’t deserve this,” you said, sniffling. “I’m never going to give you a little girl to teach her how to drive or a boy to go to shows with. We’re never gonna have babies in the bed with us in the morning. We’re never going to watch little league games. Daycare. Potty training.”

He stood, thumb to his lips. He was angry, tension roiling in his muscles. “I can’t believe it,” he growled behind clenched teeth. “I can’t believe you’d think I wouldn’t want you because you can’t have biological children with me. Do you think I only want you for that? You’re not a machine, Y/N. You’re not broken. You’re my wife. I pledged to love you for better or for worse. We will work through this. I promise you.”

He knelt before you, eyes wide and glistening with unshed tears. He grabbed your hand, held it to his heart, looking up at you imploringly. “Don’t ever think that. Ever.” He reached up to wipe a tear from your cheek. “I’m not going anywhere. Yes, I want kids. But I want you, more than anything. We’ll get a dog. Or a cat. Or both. But I’m not separating from you, okay?”

There was a hole in your chest, and it was aching, and it was healing, and you wanted to cry from joy and fear and powerlessness. “Oh, Chris.”

“No,” he said, lip trembling, tear rolling from the corner of his cheek. “No. Don’t leave me. Don’t. We will work it out.”

You leaned in, kissed his cheek, where the tear was settling, tasted the salt of it. “Okay.”

He sighed of relief, embracing you softly. He pressed his cheek against yours. He was shaking like a leaf. “I love you, and I want you to remember that forever,” he whispered. “I won’t let you go for anything in the world.”

You nodded against his shoulder. “I love you too, Chris.” 

He pressed his thumb against the ring on your finger. The ring he’d given to you on the day of your wedding, where he’d vowed to love you forever and always. Where he’d kissed you in front of both of your families. Where he’d tied himself to you in the holiest of ways, binding you to him and to his care, and vice versa.

He was remembering you, remembering himself, the reason why that ring was on your finger. For better or for worse. And this was the worse, but you’d live it together. You’d overcome it together. No matter what.

[unnuevosoltransformalarealidad]

It’s Ok

Summary: Chris has been gone on a work trip related for a while. Reader has a complicated week, when she finds out that Chris is coming back, she is not able to welcoming him the way she wants.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Sickness, vomiting, fainted, fever, body issues (not to profound)

Word Count: 2,768

This was written for the Week 5 Weekly Challenge of @optimistic-dinosaur-nacho ​ @donutloverxo ​ @captain-a-rogerss ​

A/N: This was kind of proof-read so if there’s any mistake, please let me know, English is not my mother tongue, and I’m still learning. Enjoy the reading!

Monday

You had to get ready, but you were still in bed. It was one of those days you wanted to stay in bed and do nothing. You weren’t feeling ok; you assumed that it was because you missed him, your dearest boyfriend. Today marked the second week since he left for work. It was supposedly to take just a couple of day, but it didn’t go as planned because he hasn’t come back yet.

You felt alone, empty. Chris wasn’t there with you, neither Dodger; Chris insisted on took him in with his sister, so you didn’t have to worry about him. You took a deep breath and decided to get up and get ready for the day.

Once on the kitchen, you were having just a tea, not coffee today, you weren’t in the best mood and the caffeine didn’t help you. You were lost in thought about all you had to do for the day when your buzzing phone brought you back to reality.

Good morning doll. Counting the days to be back with you.

I wish you a beautiful day

Love you

Chris

Suddenly a smile appeared on your face, and felt love, just pure love. Chris knew how sad and difficult is for you to be alone for so long. You decided to text a quick response and then get ready for work.

 Hello beautiful boy. I can't wait to have you with me.

Have a beautiful week.

Love you more

Y/N

 The day at work started pretty good for your liking, but it ended up bad and it was just Monday. Someone did something wrong on important papers and your boss had to deal it with you. Being part of a group of assistants was difficult, you have to deal with the bad mood and yelling from the bosses and people who believed had a superior position than yours. You were really stressed, you needed a break to keep going but it was the beginning of the week and you still had the rest of the week ahead. You finished working around 4:30 pm and had to get ready for your classes. You’re on your third year of college with a major in Art History, your current job it doesn’t have any connection with what you’re studying but it helps the survival.

You have a few delayed papers, a few with close deadlines but still you have to prepare two final exams. The stress was starting to kick in.

Tuesday

 The same emptiness you felt yesterday today was there. You had barely slept; you stayed awake doing some papers and making flashcards to study. Last night after coming back from school, you started to cry, you were overwhelmed, and you needed Chris by your side. You had texted him but you put it aside afterwards because you didn’t want any distractions. You were starving; you didn’t have dinner yesterday, so you got up and went to have breakfast. You took the computer with you so you could update more papers. You had to checked the phone, probably some of the teachers had emailed you because you were late and the grades were coming down. You had a few texts from Chris, of course.

 Hi love! I’m sorry I didn’t answer back, I was busy.

How did your day go? I really miss you

Chris

 Babe, is everything alright? 

Pls answer me

Chris

I hope you rest well. I can’t wait to see you

Sweet Dreams, good night, I love you

Chris

You felt really bad because he wanted to talk to you, but you needed to update some of your essays. Your work was taking you more time than you had expected and because of that you were getting behind in the classes. You finished breakfast, got ready and went to work.

At lunch break, you decided to text Chris back and tell him what was going on. 

Hi honey! How are you? Sorry I didn’t answer I was catching up with homework

I hope your day it's better than mine :(

I really miss you. Can’t wait to see you

Love you

Y/N

So far the day was stressful, but manageable. You had tons of work, and probably you had to stay extra hours to finish some papers that had to be delivered the following day. After the break you started to work on those papers when you got a phone call.

-Hello –I say not seeing who was calling

-Hi love –Chris said –How are you?

-Lost in work, you? –I say

-Missing you –he says

-I miss you too –I say –Look honey, I really appreciate you calling, but I have to finish this, and I’m already late with it –I mention with a sad tone

-It’s okay doll. I wanted to check on you actually –he says –but I’ll call you later

-I’m good, don’t worry –I say

-Ok. I love you –He says upset

-Love you too. Bye –I say and hang up

If you thought that your day was going to get better after that call, you were wrong. A really strong headache hit you and made you feel dizzy, probably it was because the late night working. You decided to take an aspirin, ignore the pain and keep working.

You had to stay almost four hours after work, your headache never left and you had missed the classes of the day. You wanted to get home and get into bed and wake up on the weekend. You decided to send Chris a quick text because he had promised you to call.

Hi love! I know you wanted to talk, but I’m leaving work right now and I have to finish an essay for tomorrow and I’ll probably ignore my phone.

I’m really really sorry

Talk to you tomorrow. I promise

Love you

Y/N

 Once you got home, you took off your clothes, put some pjs and started the essays which were due date tomorrow and you haven’t started yet. It was going to be a long night with lots of coffee.

The pounding headache you had earlier got really worse, your eyes were watering making it really difficult to read and your body was really sore. It was the fifth cup of coffee when you got a text from your mom

Hello Y/N! I hope you remember our dinner tomorrow

It’s been a while since the last meeting.

I really miss you

Mom

As soon as you saw who texted you, you rolled your eyes. You’ve totally forgot the dinner with your mom, you were doing too many things but remember it wasn’t, but you couldn’t cancel it. It was the only time you were able to see her during the week.

 Hi mom! I’ll be there, don’t worry

I miss you too

Y/N

When you send it the message, you realized it that was almost 6 AM and you haven’t finished your essay yet. You stop doing it and went to take a shower and then start the new day.

Wednesday

After your late night work and your shower, you still felt tired and sore. You prepared your breakfast and went to finish your essay. Luckily you were able to finish it just in time to go to work. You send a quick text to your mom and Chris and started your day.

Your day at the office went pretty well. Some stressful moments, but besides that, everything was normal. You were feeling really bad, being all night awake wasn’t your best decision but it was worthy, your essay was perfect, as your teacher said, and you were proud. You needed to go home and crash your bed; unfortunately you had dinner with your mom. You felt feverish but you didn’t pay much attention, probably was the lack of sleeping.

Hello my love! How’s your dinner with your ma going?

The producers told me that probably I’ll be back home by the weekend. I can’t wait

I love you

Chris

Your face lighted up immediately. It was the middle of the week, and Chris was coming back home. Nothing could ruin your day.

Dinner with your mom went terrible. She’d complaint about everything you have been doing since you moved on your own. Everything got worse when she started to criticize your body and your diet; and when she compared you to your sister you snapped. You had to kick her out of your house before something bad happened. Chris promised you to call, but you weren’t in the mood, not after what happened with your mom, so you turned off your phone, drank a beer and then you went to sleep. You deserved it.

 Thursday

Your alarm started to sound pretty loud, you got up and had to run to your bathroom, it wasn’t the cleverest idea to drink a beer before bed. Once you emptied your stomach, you laid on the cold floor. Today you had to stay in, so you emailed your boss calling in a sick day. You went back to bed and you fell asleep immediately. You woke up a few hours later feeling a little bit better from your stomach. You went to the kitchen; you prepared something light to eat and went back to bed. It was the perfect opportunity to finish all your essays you hadn’t hand in yet.

Some hours later, you were emptying your stomach on the bathroom again; you probably had caught a bug during the week. You should tell Chris about it, he shouldn’t get sick. 

You remembered that you’d turned it off the night before, probably you had several messages and missed calls, but you didn’t care. You didn’t want to deal with anything. Indeed, you had several phone calls from your mom and a bunch of texts saying she was sorry and she never meant to tell you such things. Before calling her you texted to Chris quickly to give him an update on your day and your health as well

Hi love! That’s great news! Sorry I didn’t answer back sooner, I was busy…

I don’t think you should come directly from the airport, I think I caught a bug, cause I haven’t been feeling well for a few days.

I hope your day is going good.

I miss you

Y/N

And then you called your mom. She picked up after the first ring

-Y/N! Darling, are you ok? –she asks almost screaming

-Yeah, I forgot to turn on my phone –I say avoiding my health

-I’m sorry about last night, I shouldn’t have told you such horrible things –she says

-But still, you did it –I say –Look, I know you don’t like the way I’m living, but it’s MY life –I say

-I know sweetie, but I still feel bad about how everything ended –she told me.

“She was really excusing herself” you thought but your stomach had other plans

-I’m sorry mom –you say –I’ve got to go. We’ll talk later –I say and hung up

You run to your bathroom, lucky for you, you made it. You really needed Chris next to you. You heard your phone ringing, probably it was him calling you, but you didn’t have the energy to get up, you were really dizzy and you started to see black dots, and then everything went black. This wasn’t good.

You didn’t know how long you were passed out, but when you woke up, you felt terrible. You checked your temperature, the thermometer marked 100.4°; with all your energy you got up, and went back to bed to rest, you didn’t have enough energy to take anything or even cook something.

 Friday

You don’t know when exactly you woke up, you emailed to your job calling in sick again. You didn’t realize what time it was or how long you were asleep. The only thought in your mind was that you needed to clean the house, Chris was coming tomorrow and everything was a mess, even though you warned him about being sick you knew he was going to come either way. You had to take your temp again; you were shivering, probably because it went up. Certainly it did, it was 102.2°; you knew it was bad, so you dragged yourself from bed and decided to run a bath, which was going to help.

After your bath, you went to the kitchen and prepared just a tea, and grabbed two crackers, you didn’t want to push your stomach, you were still weak; and you went back to bed.

You had a few emails from school, from work and some texts from your mom and Chris. When you were about to texted Chris back he called you.

-Hello my love –he says with his calming voice

-Hi –you answer

-How are you feeling?

-Really bad –you say pouting

-I’m sorry doll. Do you want me to call someone to take care of you?

-Don’t worry hun, I’m better now. With some rest I’ll recover –you assure him

-I’m calling you because I’m about to head to the airport so, I’ll probably don’t answer my phone until tomorrow –you heard him smiling

-It’s ok love; I can’t wait to see you again –you say smiling as well

-Me too love. Me too. I’ve got to go –he says upset

-Safe travel, I love you –you say

-Love you too. Bye –he says and hung up

You were crying already, you didn’t know why, probably was the fever. You finished your tea; you put some cozy clothes and went to the kitchen to start cleaning everything.

You finished cleaning pretty late so you took another tea and some crackers for dinner. You weren’t in the mood for food and neither your stomach. Once you finished your tea, you went to your room to clean it, when a wave of nausea hit you and you had to run to the bathroom again. You lay on the cold floor; it was a beautiful sensation against your heated skin. With all your strength you grabbed the thermometer and took your temp again, because you were pretty hot. You were running a temp of 103.1°. You needed help, you tried to get up from the floor so you could go to grab your phone, but you fainted before getting up. 

Saturday

Chris arrived at dawn; he found the house clean although you told him you were sick. He noticed there was no dinner leftover, “have you been eating?” he thought to himself, he was worried

-I’m home baby –he calls but there’s no response

-Y/N? –he calls you a little louder

He thought that you might be sleeping, but his heart broke when he find you. He lifted you from the floor and put you in bed. He went to the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and pouring some cold water, grabbed a washcloth, a glass of juice and some ibuprofen and came back to the room.

When you woke up, you realized that you were on the bed, “did you make it to the bed?” you thought when you saw that Chris entering your room.

-Hey! You are awake –he says and you could barely smile

-When did you arrive? –you question

-Not long ago, I was worried –he admits -I found you on the floor –he sits next to you on the bed pulling the tray on the nightstand

-Oh –you say and you look your hands

-What is it love? -he asks caressing your cheek

-I think I fainted in the bathroom –you admit

Chris didn’t say anything; he went to the bathroom and picked up the thermometer. He came from the bathroom with a worried face

-Open –he commands

You did what he had told you and waited. He never stopped caressing your cheek. You were falling asleep when he woke you up

-Don’t fall asleep sweetie, I know you’re tired, but please, hang on –he sounded worried - Did you eat something? –he asked you but you just shake your head and the thermometer beeped

-104° .How high was the last time you checked it? -he asks you

-103.1° –you says

-We have to break this before it gets worse. How many times did you faint? –he was really worried

-Two times, I think. I don’t really know actually –you say disappointed

-When was the last time that you eat something solid? –he asks concerned

-On Wednesday, with my mom –I say –Probably that’s why I fainted the first time –I explained

-Don’t worry, doll. I’ll take care of you –he says caressing your face.

~Tag List (If you want to be part, let me know)

@iguessweallcrazyithinktho​

[amythedvdhoarder]

I Want You

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Written for Laur’s Quarantine Writing Challenge. Her work is always amazing so check it out @fvckingavengers​

Song Prompt: I want you – Nick Jonas. Lyrics in italics throughout (and the title)

Word count: 3.6K

Summary: Bucky messed up but he can’t live without you. He wants you and has to get you back

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff and smut 18+ only (covered all bases here I think!)

Authors notes: GIF not mine. Ahhh so happy to be writing again. It is my first song prompt and was so fun to write. Gotta love some arguments and the eventual making up. I don’t write smut very often but hope you like it. Really tempted to do a follow up if people are interested? Feedback is always welcome so please let me know what you think x

Here is my masterlist if you want to read any of my other Bucky one-shots!

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The knocking at your door woke you up with a start. You looked across at the clock and saw it was 2 in the morning. There was another loud bang on the door. You groaned, flicked on the bedside lamp and dragged yourself out of bed to the front door of your apartment. Glancing through the peephole in the door you sighed. “Bucky go away, I don’t want to talk to you. It’s the middle of the night for fucks sake.” You saw as he moved closer to the door. “Would you let me in, or I’m breaking in ‘cause I ain’t gonna let you go.” Knowing full well that the super soldier would follow through with his threat, you started to unlock the door. Bucky strode into the room as soon as you opened the front door, his hands running through his short locks. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, stress etched across his handsome features. “Just so you know, I’m only letting you in because I don’t want to piss off the neighbours.”

“Y/N, I want you and no one else” Anger surged through your body. “I’m not having this conversation again Bucky. If you wanted me that bad then you wouldn’t be afraid to tell people about me and you definitely wouldn’t be eye fucking and flirting with other women in front of me.” Bucky’s head dropped, you were right that he hadn’t behaved how he should, treated you the way you deserved, but he did want you. He watched as you walked back towards your bed and climbed in, pulling the duvet around you. “Y/N come on. Can you please just listen to what I have to say?” You groaned and slammed you head back again the pillows. “Fine but not now, I’m fucking knackered alright. I’ll listen to what you have to say in the morning.” Bucky shifted nervously. “Um can I crash here?” Although Bucky couldn’t see your face he knew you would be rolling your eyes. “Whatever. The sofa is all yours. Don’t mistake this as an act of kindness or a sign I want to get back together. I just can’t be bothered to argue with you at 2 in the fucking morning.” He threw his arms up in surrender and headed towards the sofa, pulling off his jacket and shoes. Just as he was unbuckling his belt something large a soft hit him in the back. He turned and picked up the pillow you had just thrown at him and smiled to himself. Clearly you cared about him on some level. “Thanks Y/N” You responded only by waving your arm back at him. “See you in the morning” This time all he got was a grunt as you turned off the lamp, throwing the apartment into darkness. Bucky silently finished undressing, leaving him in just his boxers. He pulled the knitted throw off the back of the sofa and got himself as comfortable as he could.

He was going to fix this. He had to fix this, he was crazy about you. You had dated for over 6 months. Those 6 months had been the happiest of his life.

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The first time he had met you was in the library, he was looking for a book by an author that Wanda had recommended. You had been sat at one of the desks marking some exam papers, hair pulled up into a messy bun, glasses perched on the end of your nose. He had been so distracted by the cute face you were pulling that he dropped the book he was pulling from the shelf, the noise when it hit the wooden floor had made you jump. “Shit” Bucky had said rather loudly making you look around to find the source of the interruption. He had grimaced as your eyes met and shrugged apologetically.  You had just smiled and returned to marking your papers.

He had lingered in the library far longer than normal until the librarian announced the library was closing. Bucky looked around to see where you were but to his surprise you weren’t there. “Hey” he spun around to see you stood next to him, as grin spreading across your face.  “Um hi.” You plucked the book he had and inspected it carefully. “That’s a good one. If you like it then you should read the Jack Reacher books. All about an ex-military bloke with a lizard brain. Everywhere he goes so does trouble.” Bucky hadn’t really known what book he had in his hand, it had been more of a cover for him so he could stay at catch a few glimpses of you without seeming too suspicious. “Thanks, I will bear that in mind …” He gestured at you “Y/N” you added and offered him your free hand which he shook, trying to ignore the feeling spreading through his body as his skin touched yours for the first time. “Bucky” You shot him a quizzical look. “Unusual name?” He took the book from you now and shoved it back onto the shelf. “Well it’s from my middle name Buchannan.” Bucky scratched the back of his neck “Don’t suppose you want to grab a coffee on the way out? You can tell me more about the lizard brain.” You chuckled but agreed. From there you had sat in the park for a couple of hours talking about your lives. Bucky glossed over the details of his past but you knew a little bit about it from the news, not that it bothered you. He was sweet, kind and had the ability to make you feel like you had the most interesting life, even though as a teacher you really didn’t. He laughed at the stories you told him and before you knew it you had wondered to a little bistro and had dinner with each other. He had then walked you back to your apartment and you arranged an official first date for the following evening.

Bucky kept his life with you separate from the avengers. You could understand it really, it was a completely different world. He promised to introduce you to Steve and Sam at some point but every time you tried to invite them around for dinner Bucky always made an excuse. It made you feel like he was ashamed of you. Both of you had busy schedules, he had missions and you had a full-time teaching job. But you found a way to make it work. You gave him a key to your place which meant that most nights when you got in Bucky was waiting for you. It was the evenings you spent curled up against him on the couch, chatting about the events of the day that made the relationship work. That precious time where neither of you worried about anything and just took comfort in being around each other. There were other ways that you found comfort as well. Bucky worshipped your body, which you normally hid behind ripped mom jeans and loose cable knit sweaters. But he knew what you were hiding and he just couldn’t get enough of you. That feeling was mutual, dating a man injected with super serum definitely had its benefits. You weren’t with the man for his body but you definitely weren’t going to complain. Bucky could have been sculpted by an artist who envisaged the perfect human man; hard muscular planes, thick powerful legs and the metal arm, whilst probably not imagined by Michelangelo, only added to his appeal.

Everything had been going well until a couple of weeks ago. He had mentioned a party that Tony Stark was throwing that he had to attend, you had half expected him to ask you to go with him, knowing how much he hated big gatherings. But he didn’t. Instead he left you to spend the evening by yourself and rocked up at 3 in the morning, slightly drunk from some Asgardian drink, smelling of perfume and with his face covered in bright red lipstick. That night you had your first major fight followed by the best make up sex of your life. Despite all of this there was part of you that had begun to doubt whether you were enough for Bucky. You weren’t some super fit model-like woman, you were average, run of the mill normal.

The following week Bucky had taken you out for meal and the whole night you watched as his eyes followed the waitress’s ass around the room and on the walk home how he had turned as some drunk scantily clad women stumbled down the street. This was the final straw. The fight when you had got home was worse than the last. Then it was over, Bucky was gone and you were on your own again. He hadn’t fought to keep you and despite the love you held for him it wasn’t enough.

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At first when you heard the noises coming from your kitchen you panicked but then your remembered. Bucky. You silently slipped into the bathroom and splashed your face with cold water, and pulled your hair into a high pony before going to face him. In the morning light you got a better look at him; there were deep purple marks below his eyes, the scruff of a newly formed beard and the tension in his shoulder made it evident that he was stressed. He was stood in his boxers and the shirt he had been wearing last night loose around his torso. You went at sat at the breakfast bar and he gave you a half apologetic smile. “Sorry about last night, I just needed to see you, be near you. I don’t know how to exist without you, I can’t sleep. I’m just lost.” A small groan escaped your lips, the fight you had in you last night was rapidly disappearing. You missed Bucky. It wasn’t difficult to fall in love with him but it sure was difficult to fall out of love with him. “Buck, I went through this. You’re clearly ashamed of me. You wouldn’t introduce me to your friends and when we went out you couldn’t keep your eyes to yourself.” Bucky put down the batter mix he had been whisking and looked at you. “Y/N I didn’t take you to that party because I knew there would be a hundred pricks there who wouldn’t have been able to take their eyes off you. I didn’t want you to realise what a jealous shit I really am.” Bucky raised his hand at you when you started to interrupt. “No, I need to finish. At the restaurant the other week you thought I was following the waitress around well what I was really looking at were the arseholes at the bar that kept eyeing you up, especially when you got up to go the toilet. Their eyes were glue to your arse, not that I can blame them, but they had no right to objectify you like that.” Your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you tried to think back to that night. “What about the girls on the street?” Now it was Bucky’s turn to be confused. “What girls?” You scoffed “The ones who walked by with their tits out and their dressed practically showing of their you know...” Bucky let out a frustrated sigh. “Y/N I didn’t even see them, it was the two drunk blokes behind us, I could hear them saying things about you. I swear, I only turned to scare them off.”

Could you have really got it that wrong. Had your own jealously really made you that paranoid. “Even if all of that is true Buck, why wouldn’t you let me meet Steve or Sam?” Bucky made his way around the counter so that he was stood in front of you. “Look Y/N” he said taking your hand in his “I want you for myself, I thought introducing you to them would make you realise you could do so much better than me. There is stuff in my past I’m not proud of ok, they’re much better guys than I am. I just didn’t want to lose you.” You reached out and caressed his cheek with your free hand “I know about your past Ok? As far as I am concerned none of that matters, it’s who you are now that I care about. You’re the man I fell in love with.” Bucky placed his hand on yours and tilted his head to find your eyes. “I love you Y/N, I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right. I want you, and nothing else will do.” You rested your forehead against his “Promise me that you will get it out of your head that you’re not good enough for me. I get to make that decision, I’m not going to leave you and in return I’ll reign in my jealousy and trust you more.” Bucky pulled back, searched your eyes and realised you meant every word. “I promise Y/N. I was thinking I know it’s a bit soon but do you want to stay at my place next weekend? You can meet everyone.” You smiled brightly at him “I would love that Buck.” His head dipped as he captured your lips with his, his hands moving to the back of your head holding you against him. You groaned at the gesture and felt your arousal beginning to pool. It had been a very long two weeks and you had missed the feeling that only Bucky could create. Bucky moaned against your mouth as your lips parted allowing access, your tongues dancing around as you became reacquainted.

Bucky pressed his knee between your legs, allowing him step between them. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck and his fell to your hips as he lifted you, your legs circled around his waist. He carried you across the room to the bed without breaking the kiss, your now wet clothed core rubbing against his hardening member. Bucky dropped you carefully onto the bed and was on top of you in a second, his lips crashing to yours once again. You wriggled your hips against his wanting him to get the hint. “Bucky please” you whined against his lips. He chuckled as his mouth trailed down your neck and he nipped teasingly at the sensitive skin there before sucking at the junction just above your collar bone. Your fingers ran across his chest and began pushing off his shirt, he got the idea, pulling away from your briefly to remove it before turning his attention to the t-shirt you were wearing. “I was wondering where that had got to” he murmured as he lifted the fabric of his red henley up revealing a small strip of skin just above your lace panties. He placed butterfly kisses along the newly exposed skin as his hands continued their journey underneath, tracing the outline of your breasts. “It still smelt of you” you breathed as his thumbs teased patterns over your taut nipples. You sat up slightly so Bucky could pull the t-shirt up over your head. “Looks better on you anyway doll.”

Bucky looked down appreciatively at you, the blue in his eyes barely visible as his pupils were blown. “So fucking gorgeous” You smiled up at him and let your hand trace up the defined muscles of his abdomen, up across his chest to his shoulders where you pulled him down to you crashing his lips to yours. The kiss was all teeth, one of desperation. Your fingernails dug into Bucky’s back keeping him close to you, his hand finding your breasts once again where he kneaded at the soft flesh before rolling your nipples between his fingers, making you gasp into his mouth. His lips left yours as he trails hot wet kisses down your body, stopping to pay particular attention to your breasts before continuing their journey downwards. Your fingers wind into his hair as his lips press against your clothed bundle of nerves making your hips buck. Bucky continues to tease you, his fingers exploring everywhere other than where you wanted them, his teeth graze over the top of your panties. You whine as the heat in your lower belly starts becoming too much. “Bucky, I want you. Please.” The need in your voice nearly makes him come on the spot but he wants to do this properly, these two weeks have been hell without you. “I’m getting there doll, gonna to make you feel so good.” Bucky sits up so that he can remove the last barrier from your body, his cock twitches in his boxers as he looks down on you and decides that he can’t wait any longer. He tears the lace from your body. Normally you would have been annoyed at him for that but your desire has over taken any rational thought. He removes his own underwear before attaching his mouth suddenly to your clit. You scream at the contact as you writhe underneath him. Bucky holds your hips down with his hands as his tongue licks at the juices that have already collected at your apex. He hums at the taste, the vibration coursing through your whole body. Your fingernails dig into his scalp, holding him in place, as his tongue enters you, twisting and thrusting leaving you so close to the edge, his nose bumping your clit as he continues his assault. He removes his tongue and before you can cry at the loss of contact his mouth is back on your clit, sucking at it harshly until your cry out his name and a string of curses, the knot in your stomach finally bursting. Bucky keeps his mouth on you as you ride out your high, the final waves of pleasure still pulsing through your body as he makes his way up to your mouth. You can taste yourself on his lips making you groan, his tongue gliding over yours.

Deciding you want more control, you manoeuvre yourself so that Bucky is underneath you whilst you straddle his hips. You grind against him slowly, your slick coating his member. A small hiss escapes his mouth and closes his eyes as you pick up the pace, your hands falling to his chest for support. “Fuck doll” Bucky’s hands tighten around your hips as he helps guide your movements. “I need you Y/N” he pants as you reach down between you taking his member and positioning him before you sink down onto him. You stay still for a few moments giving yourself time to adjust before you slowly begin you rock your hips. Bucky’s hands are all over you, pinching your nipples, traveling over your back before inserting two fingers into your mouth. You moan around Bucky’s fingers as your hips pick up speed, the heat in your belly building. “Shit doll” Bucky can’t help but thrust his own hips up, matching your moments. He removed his fingers and sits you both up so he can get deeper into you. The new angle makes you cry out. Your hands weave into his hair as you cling onto him for support as you head tilts back, Bucky places wet open mouth kissed to your exposed neck. His hand travels down between you as he circles your clit. He growls as he feels you walls flutter against him. His mouth finds yours again, teeth and tongue colliding. Both of you are panting now with the exertion. The room filled only with noise of your ragged breathing and the lewd sounds of skins slapping against skin. “Come on Y/N, I’m so close. Come with me Doll” he gasps against your lips. His words and the friction he is creating again your clit is enough to pull you over the edge. His name comes out almost like a broken sob as your orgasm rips through you, your fingernails digging into Bucky’s back to keep you grounded. As your walls tighten around Bucky, his thrusts become more erratic as he chases his releases. He shouts as he spills inside you with a final couple of thrusts. Both of you cling to each other, Bucky’s mouth ghosting along your sweat covered neck and along your collar bone before he gently bites on your shoulder as he tries to catch his breath. Your own forehead is pressed to Bucky’s shoulder, one hand curled around the back of his neck and the other running up and down his muscular back.

Bucky pulled you with him as he laid back against the bed. Your body resting on top of his still connected at your most private parts. “Mmmm I’ve missed this” you hummed against his chest, your fingers gently tracing the scars where metal joined flesh. Bucky leant down and placed a kiss to the top of your head. “I’ve missed you.” He whispered just loud enough so that you could hear him. Your hips wiggled slightly as you readjusted yourself so you could kiss up his neck and jaw before pressing your lips to his once more. You nipped and sucked on his bottom lip making him groan. His cock hardening again in side you. “Already Sergeant?” You teased. Bucky growled. “Damn straight doll” he replied before flipping you underneath him, his kiss urgent and all consuming, so much so it left you breathless. Bucky pulled back to let you catch your breath.  “I love you.” Bucky whispered softly as his hand traced over your cheekbone. “Love you too Bucky.” You placed a chaste kiss to his lips. “Now show me how much you really want me Sergeant.” Bucky’s eyes darkened immediately. “You many regret that Y/N.” You giggled before letting out a little squeal as Bucky began moving his hips again. “Doll your gonna feel just how much I want you for days.”

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 ,  @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht​, @buckys-henley​, @lonelyheartsm​ @alexa-lightwood-blog​

[miikrokkosmos]

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, angst, coffee shop!au, college!au, best friend!au, shy/awkward!reader (they say to write what you know)

word count: 6.3k

summary: “Yoongi begrudgingly rose to his feet and walked to behind the counter, but didn’t stop at the register, much to the chagrin of the young hipster man waiting to order his third iced Americano of the day. He instead went to the back and whipped out the biggest mug the coffee shop offered, and got to work on a drink that nobody ordered. By this point, the whole line of customers had their eyes glued to him incredulously. “Oh, I’ll be with you all in a minute,” he said to them nonchalantly.” aka Yoongi and reader have been dancing around their feelings for each for far too long and something’s gotta give

a/n:hey guys! i’m still trying to figure out my writing style for my bts characters. but i hope you enjoy, and as always, any feedback, ideas, and/or constructive criticism would be indescribably appreciated! inbox currently open for requests, as well!

You hugged your sweater tighter around your torso as you settled into the hard plastic chair of the lecture hall to get ready for your favourite class of the week – your M/W/F late morning marketing class. Not that marketing was your concentration, or even one of your favourite topics to study…it just happened to be the one class you shared with your best friend, Min Yoongi. Not a day passed by without you thanking the heavens above that marketing basics was something required for your business major, as well as Yoongi’s music production degree. It worked out perfectly. Almost as perfectly as when Yoongi had gotten an assistant manager job at the café you spent all of your study hours in (as well as your free personal hours, if you were being honest).

Fresh off the morning shift at said coffee shop, Yoongi’s face poked through the door with minutes to spare, fluffy black hair flying in every direction as he tried to keep two coffee cups in his hands from slushing over their brims. You hustled to lift your heavy backpack off the chair next to you, dutifully saved for him every time. He gave you a warm smile and slid one of the paper cups towards you, gently patting your head as he sits in his chair. You excitedly grabbed the cup and brought the side to your eyes to read WCM scrawled across the side. You eyed him sneakily as you raised the cup to your lips. “White chocolate mocha? You’re trying to make me fat, aren’t you?”

“Don’t act like it’s not your favourite,” he threw out. “Besides, we needed to have matching drinks,” he said, twirling his own cup around to show you the matching sharpie label scrawled across the side.

“You’re really annoying, you know,” you mumbled, but couldn’t hide the grin stretching across your lips.

“You’re welcome for the free coffee, by the way, hand-poured by your favourite barista,” Yoongi drawled out, attempting to match your annoyed tone, but even more unable than you to make his visage match his tone.

He moved to take his notebook and textbook out of his bag, neatly arranging them on the desk in front of him. You eyed him fondly as he did so, enjoying the coziness spreading throughout your body from both the hot drink in your hands, as well as from the warmth that you naturally felt whenever you got to spend time with Yoongi. Even if that time was sometimes spent just slouching next to each other in the far back of a business lecture hall, passing the time by sharing memes and occasionally jotting down notes only when it seemed most important. In those moments, there’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Which is precisely why you decided then and there that you had to do something, anything, to move on, to keep yourself from basing so much of your happiness in someone whose depth of feelings for you surely didn’t match your own of his.

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After finishing up your classes the next day, you headed to the café as usual to work on your homework, Yoongi working to keep up at his register in the background with the rush of rude customers coming in to order minutes before the café was officially closed. You couldn’t help but notice how every second girl attempts to flirt with him, pausing your music each time to listen in on their suggestive comments every time against your better judgement. Jealousy would boil in your veins every time, but you were usually able to calm down fairly quickly given the fact that Yoongi never, ever appeared to reciprocate. You didn’t know if he was completely oblivious, or if he just plain didn’t care for girls who blatantly asked for his number in the same breath as their latte order, but either way you appreciated it. Not that you truthfully had any right to appreciate it. It’s not like he ever flirted with you either.

Minutes later, after ushering everyone out of the café on time, Yoongi rushed over to you, placing both his hands on either side of your head, kneeling in front of you. “The place is finally ours again,” he said, rubbing soft circles into your temples, “and…we didn’t sell out of those big ass expensive cupcakes today. They have to be gone one way or another. Interested?”

You lightly place your hands on his wrists, still hovering by your face. “Do you really need me to answer that?”

_______________________________________________________________________

You found yourself not ten minutes later seated across from Yoongi at your tiny round table, quickly putting away your study materials to make room for two cups of tea, giant cupcakes topped with bountiful icing in tow.

“I don’t think that last group of customers appreciated being kicked out while I so blatantly overlooked you lounging in the corner,” Yoongi said, a grin finding its way to his lips.

You weren’t quite sure how to take that one. “Oh, well, I can start leaving earlier if you think it’s an issue…I never want to do anything that could chance getting you in trouble, you know that.”

Yoongi quirked a brow. “What? No, I’m kidding, _____. Besides, what are they gonna do about it? I’m here more often than the regular manager. I practically own the place,” he added, with a wink.

You giggled, trying to hide the bright pink dusting your cheeks by practically stuffing your whole face in the cupcake. Yoongi rolls his eyes as he reaches across and wipes off a dab of icing off the top of your lip under your nose, which did absolutely nothing for your already furious blush. You both laughed at each other for a moment, a beat passing between you as you catch each other’s eyes. Yoongi had a way with his eye contact. You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, and there wasn’t a particular technique to it, it’s just the way he was. Something about it always felt so intense, but in a good way. It made you feel so…seen.

You felt a painful pang after you felt you had spent too much time gazing into his orbs, however, and soon looked off to the side. “So, I have something to say,” you started slowly, taking a big gulp to keep yourself from going further.

“Let me guess. You’ve decided to switch majors and we now have all of our classes together?”

“No, about my love life, actually.”

An expression flashed over Yoongi’s face that you couldn’t quite identify, but you didn’t have time to attempt to decode it. “Oh? How so?”

“Well,” you began, slowly pushing your teacup to the center of the table, “I think…I don’t know. I just feel like it’s a good time for me to be more open to looking for a relationship, maybe?”

“Oh. I didn’t know you were closed off to the idea before now, actually.”

“I mean, I wasn’t really. I just mean…I want to start being more intentional now about it, I guess? I didn’t really have time to think about it much the past couple years, with finishing my undergrad and then traveling around and working for a while.” AndbecauseI’vebeentooinlovewithyoutoconsiderdatinganyoneelse.“But now that I’m back in school and working on my master’s, and I know I’m gonna be here in one place for a while to finish that, I thought maybe it’d be a good time to look for something more serious, I guess?”

Yoongi was no longer even trying to make eye contact with you, his gaze firmly pointed at the empty cups in front of you both. “I mean, yeah. That makes sense,” he said rather quietly, throwing his head into a quick firm nod, as if to make up for the firmness he lacked in his voice.

“Yeah. So I think I’m going to break down and finally try a dating app.” You try to force yourself to look more excited about the prospect than you actually feel.

Yoongi threw a hand behind his head, ruffling up his already messy hair. “Ah, I see. You know, from most people I wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear that, but that isnews coming from you.”

“I know, I know,” you say as you let out a nervous chuckle. “I’m nervous.”

“Well, it’s a brave thing to put yourself out there,” Yoongi said, offering a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

You nodded to him, rising to pick up your dirty dishes to bring to the café’s counter behind you.

“Hey, that’s my job,” Yoongi whined after you, which you completely brushed off.

You walk up behind him, letting your hands drop to his shoulders. You begin kneading in a massaging motion, causing him to drop his head down onto his chest. “Ready to go home and study for the marketing exam?” you quietly ask.

He tenses and raises his head back up, standing to his feet, causing your hands to drop back down to your sides. “Would you mind if we pushed that to tomorrow, actually? I have to sort through some stuff in the money room here that I forgot about, probably will take a good while.”

“Oh. Okay then, tomorrow it is,” you say, tipping your head in thanks when he hoists your backpack around your shoulders. You give him a quick hug before turning to walk towards the door.

“Hey, _____?” Yoongi calls out after you.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks…just thanks for being open and vulnerable with me and telling me about your thoughts and feelings. I know it’s not easy to do.”

Ouch.

“Of course, Yoongi. That’s what best friends are for.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Your study session with Yoongi the next day lasted all but fifteen minutes before you had both given into the temptation of moving from the stiff kitchen chairs to the enveloping coziness of his couch, marathoning episodes of your current favourite tv show all afternoon instead. Although you had begun the show by sitting upright next to each other, the sleepier you became, the more your body involuntarily decided to crawl into Yoongi’s welcoming hold. You eventually fell asleep with his arm around you, head tucked gently into his neck, television buzzing lowly in the background.

You woke up what must have been several hours later, almost feeling overheated by how absolutely entangled you and Yoongi were in each other: legs mixed up in each other, a protective hand pulling you closer to his chest rising up and down in soft breaths, and a plaid blanket that was strewn across you sometime after your eyes had first fallen shut. Not that you could complain, though. Settings such as this were where you felt truly the safest, and most at peace.

As slow as possible, you hoisted the blanket off of yourselves and attempted to extricate yourself from Yoongi without waking him. But the second he noticed in his drowsy state that you, his source of warmth and comfort, had been ripped from his hold, his eyes snapped open with a start.

“Don’t get up,” you whispered in a soothing voice, hoping to coax him back into his comfy position. “I didn’t mean to stay so late, sorry.” You walked over to the kitchen area to pick up your study materials you had left strewn about the table.

Ignoring your instructions, Yoongi picked himself up and sauntered over to stand next to you, your hips touching. “You can stay, you know,” he said in a raspy voice still full of sleep, gently placing a hand atop your own to stop you from continuing to pack up.

You glanced up to meet his eyes as you contemplated his offer. It wasn’t like you hadn’t accidentally stayed over before, late night study sessions and movie nights never ending and never moving from his couch in time to beat the sun rising. It also wasn’t as if you didn’t desperately want to spend more time with the boy, especially if that time involved reverting back to your previous position of having your bodies tightly snuggling into each other under a woolen blanket on his oversized couch. It’s just that you really didn’t know if your heart could handle that any longer.

“No. No, thank you. Thank you though. But no,” you awkwardly stuttered out, dropping your gaze almost as quickly as you rescued your hand from his tender grasp to snap the straps on the front of your backpack.

“Oh. Okay,” he said, and did his eyes look…sad?, “But text me when you get home. It’s getting pretty late.”

You nodded dutifully at him as he reached over your shoulders to grab your bag, lifting it over your shoulders and patting it twice for good measure. “I will.”

This was clearly the moment you were supposed to leave, but somehow you were both kept standing there in front of each other, stubbornly refusing to be the first to move. He looked down at you through his shaggy bangs, eyes still not fully open as the not-so-distant promise of sleep tried to pull at his eyelids, lips pressed together in a maddeningly adorable pout, and you were sure in that moment that you had never before seen him look so beautiful. You had definitely never before had such a pulling feeling in your gut that was just begging you to reach forward, just a few inches more, to capture his soft strands in your fingers, and pull his delicate mouth against your own.

In the midst of unknowingly staring at his lips, you felt his hand reach down to grab your own, slipping his fingers in between the spaces that always felt like were made to house his digits perfectly.

You only noticed how your close your faces had become when you felt the heat dancing on your cheeks, causing you to once again unceremoniously yank your hand from Yoongi’s. “Okay, I will, I’ll text when I get home. Okay. Bye. Goodbye,” you stumble out, fiercely making your way to the door. The last thing you see as you pull the door shut behind you is Yoongi still standing in the middle of the kitchen, eyes trained on his still outstretched hand, dangling empty above his floor.

_______________________________________________________________________

As you sat in class the next morning, backpack saving the seat next to you, you did everything in your power to think about absolutely anything other than Yoongi. You didn’t have enough time, however, to focus on any one thing for too long before the man in question hopped into the seat next to you, placing a warm, handcrafted beverage in front of you. Once again, “WCM” was printed into the side in his tiny, meticulous handwriting.

“I brought your favourite again today,” he offered, a smile in his voice.

You brought the drink to your lips, a grateful smile on your face, but unable to meet his eyes. “So, I’m actually talking to someone on that dating app already.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I’m surprised. Most of the guys on there are as gross and vulgar as can be, but this guy is actually talking to me like I’m a real person.” You tried to sound excited. You tried to make your little chuckle sound convincing. Whether your efforts were more for you or for Yoongi though, you weren’t sure.

“Ah, well that’s exciting. And most guys are gross.”

“Yeah. Wanna see a picture of him?”

“No,” Yoongi said, probably faster than he intended. “I trust your judgment. I’m sure he’s very good-looking.”

You looked up to Yoongi at that, but his gaze was trained on the PowerPoint on the back wall, refusing to meet your eyes.

_______________________________________________________________________

Later that night, you found yourself on your balcony having an evening cup of tea with your roommate, Kelsey, who knew your relationship with Yoongi probably better than anyone. You inhaled a deep breath in an attempt to ward off some of the stress of your current situation, the burnt orange sunset reflecting off your face.

“I just can’t continue on like I’ve been going,” you practically whine. “It’s getting to a point where it’s almost painful to be around him. And I don’t want to ruin the friendship I’ve built with him because I got greedy with my affection or something.”

“Well, I’m not saying that I’m not in support of you talking with your dating app boy,” Kelsey began, “But having feelings for someone does not mean you’re being greedy, _____. And you know I’m not convinced Yoongi doesn’t have feelings for you.”

You placed your head in your hands and groaned before sitting back up in your rocking chair. “You always say that, but let’s be real. We’ve known each other for several years now. If Yoongi really wanted me he would’ve said something by now.”

“The same could be said about you though, couldn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes at that. “I’m too shy. I’m not good at being open about my feelings. Yoongi knows that better than anyone.”

“But isn’t Yoongi quiet and shy as well? Particularly when it comes to his true feelings on things? At least, that’s what you’ve said before.”

“Yeah. I mean…yeah, but still.”

Kelsey nudged your knee with her own. “Hey. I just want to see you happy. You know that. And you also know I think Yoongi is a great guy, and I’ll never be convinced he doesn’t feel something for you. But I’m gonna support you doing whatever you think will make you the most happy. And if that means moving on from Yoongi, then go for it.”

You gave her a small, sad smile. “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Once classes were finished the next day, you spent your evening time at your usual table at the cafe going over homework. There was a bit of a lull in the traffic of customers at this point, so Yoongi took the opportunity to just sit with you for a while.

“I don’t know what to be doing with myself at this point, Yoongi. We talked on the phone for a little bit today, and I was so awkward. He said he liked my accent though, so I guess that’s a good thing?” Yoongi nodded to this, offering a small smile. “I think it went well. But I’m getting terrified at the idea of meeting him in person.”

“Why?” Yoongi cocked an inquisitive brow.

“You know me, Yoons. I’m shy enough over text, but much more so meeting people in person.”

You noticed a couple of customers walking towards the counter, and nodded your head towards them so Yoongi could take notice. He turned around, and immediately rose from his chair. He walked closer to you until he was a foot in front of you. “Just remember to be yourself, _____, and if he doesn’t fall head over heels for you he’s a complete dumbass, because you’re perfect.” Right as he finished his sentence, he quickly dipped down to place a kiss to your forehead, before skipping back over to behind the counter to serve his customers.

You were left sitting in your seat, your lips forming an “o”, completely unprepared for the sudden public display of affection from your best friend. The only thing your mind knew in that moment was that the butterflies in your stomach wouldn’t let you sit still for a moment longer.

You rose to your feet, grabbed your stuff, and called out a quick “Have to go now!” to Yoongi. His eyes were ripped away from the customer whose order he was taking, and his legs rushed to meet you at the other side of the counter.

“Wait! Don’t forget your tea!” he practically shouted into the café, outstretched hand offering you a paper cup.

“I didn’t order tea…” you breathed out, but found your hands reaching for the drink all the same.

“Well, it’s still your tea.” Yoongi smiled, locking eyes with you for a few moments until his waiting customer loudly cleared her throat in the background, causing him to dejectedly walk back to the other side.

You pushed your way through the doors into the cold night, and took a sip of the welcoming warmth. Peppermint tea with vanilla steamed milk. Your favourite soothing, caffeine-free drink that you only treated yourself to nights before you had a big exam or stressful day ahead of you. A treat Yoongi usually insisted on making for you himself. At this point you weren’t sure whether you enjoyed and got so much comfort from that particular drink because of the drink itself, or because of its association with Yoongi. You also weren’t sure you really wanted to know the answer to that question.

_______________________________________________________________________

The next afternoon was spent comfortably sitting next to Yoongi at the campus library, catching up on studying for the marketing exam. Or at least attempting to, as your brain deemed it fit to focus entirely on the boy next to you instead of the thick textbook in front of you. You chewed on the strings of your hoodie, sneaking a glance here and there at Yoongi’s adorable focused expression whenever you felt you had the best chance of not being caught. Eventually you failed, however, causing Yoongi to take one of his AirPods out once he saw your face studying him.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked.

“Uh, so…he asked me out! To your café, actually.” “What?” Yoongi asked, and ripped out the remaining AirPod.

“Yeah. I want to do it when you’re not working though,” - you attempted to throw out a giggle – “So what’s your schedule like tomorrow?”

Yoongi scrunched up his face, as if he couldn’t comprehend the simple information you were giving him. “You’re going out with him? The guy from the dating app?”

“Well, it’s a date. Just to meet up in real life and see how it goes. I’m really nervous…but you said it’s good, right? To be ‘vulnerable’, and put myself out there?” You gave him a wide-eyed, questioning glance.

Yoongi broke your gaze, and dragged his eyes to his clasped hands settling on the table in front of him. “I just close shop tomorrow,” he said quietly, as he dragged a hand through his hair.

“Okay, well I’ll suggest early evening, give us enough time. I just don’t want to look over my shoulder and accidentally lock eyes with you and think of an inside joke and laugh in his face, thus ruining any chance of a good first impression,” you tried to reason good-naturedly, though your smile didn’t meet your eyes.

“Makes sense,” Yoongi said.

You grinned as you reached over and gently punched Yoongi in the shoulder. He did not respond. _______________________________________________________________________

Yoongi entered the café for his closing shift with a sulk on his face, tying his apron perhaps a little tighter than he usually did. He stopped dead in his tracks, however, when he noticed you still sitting at your usual table in the back of the café. He didn’t expect to find you still there, but he most definitely didn’t think he’d find you there sitting alone.

Upon moving closer, he happened to notice that the gloomy expression on your face was rivaling his own. He gently walked towards you, wordlessly coming to a stop right in front of you, hoping your eyes would meet his own.

Although you took notice of the quiet boy standing in front of you, you continued to scroll mindlessly through your phone, refusing to look up for fear of your current emotions betraying your vulnerability. “So! He didn’t show, stopped answering any messages about an hour before he was supposed to show, and probably has no intention of ever answering messages from me again anyway. I was right, I should have trusted myself, online dating sucks butts.” Your tone was firm and final, and your eyes still refused to meet Yoongi’s.

You sensed him standing awkwardly still for a few moments, unsure of how to react to you, but you couldn’t blame him. You eventually sensed him dropping to his knees on the floor right in front of you, most likely dirtying his apron in the process. Strong, gentle hands were placed on either side of your face, physically dragging your focus away from your phone and onto your best friend’s face.

“What are you do – don’t look at me like that, Yoongi.”

You couldn’t stand the pitiful look he was giving you. If your heart wasn’t already heavy that night, it was at that moment being crushed to pieces.

“I’m not a hurt puppy, Yoongi…I’m just frustrated, is all. I didn’t really like him all that much anyway,” you said, trailing the last bit off into a mumble.

“Angel,” Yoongi breathed out.

You quirked an eyebrow at the endearment. Why did he have to make everything so much…harder?

“You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

As if on cue, the final rush of customers seemed to be gathering by the counter all at once, some of their eyes pointedly trained on Yoongi. You grasped Yoongi’s hands to take them off your face. “You have customers again,” you said, nodding your head behind you.

Yoongi begrudgingly rose to his feet and walked to behind the counter, but didn’t stop at the register, much to the chagrin of the young hipster man waiting to order his third iced Americano of the day. He instead went to the back and whipped out the biggest mug the coffee shop offered, and got to work on a drink that nobody ordered. By this point, the whole line of customers had their eyes glued to him incredulously. “Oh, I’ll be with you all in a minute,” he said to them nonchalantly.

Although you pretended to focus on your phone and not know what was going on, your insides lit up when he walked over and laid the drink down in front of you, extra whipped cream spilling over the side. You had half a mind to just reject it and leave, not wanting to have to face Yoongi any longer that night, but you couldn’t make yourself budge. “You really are trying to make me fat.” Yoongi laid a tiny pat on your head and made his way back to the counter. Feeling deflated, you sunk down even further into your seat, and decided to drown your sorrows in the tub-sized white chocolate mocha in front of you.

By the time Yoongi had rounded everyone up and out of the shop, you were so deep in your thoughts you had no concept of the time until you heard the lock on the door click, leaving you and Yoongi alone once more. A position you really didn’t trust yourself to be in in that moment. Before he had even fully made his way over to you, you had stood up, hastily rushing your dirty cup over to the counter and running back to pick up your phone and the bag you had thrown aside as soon as you knew your date wasn’t showing.

“You know you don’t have to leave yet,” he called out softly to you.

You pushed your chair back into the table, your back still turned to him.

“_____.”

You still had to force yourself to ignore him, running a hand through your hair as you surveyed the area to make sure everything was in place before you left. You knew he didn’t deserve to be treated in such a confusing manner, but you also knew what you had to do to keep yourself together in that moment.

Before you could make your break for the door, however, you felt two strong arms wrapping around your waist in a loving manner, and a warm face nudging gently into your neck as his chin laid over your shoulder. “I’m sorry about today. Truly.”

You couldn’t do it anymore. You swung out of his grasp and around to face him, tears stinging at your eyes. He gingerly reached out again, this time stroking your hair. “Hey,” he cooed, “You’re gonna be okay.” You scrunched up your face and looked down to your feet, causing the first silent tear to swim down your cheek. How could he be so…good,but so oblivious to what his actions did to you?

“You’re crying?”

You push against his chest to try to bring some distance between yourselves, so you could move around him and finally go home to your bed safe from boys who ghost you and from boys who fill your heart to the brim with unrequited love. “No, really it’s okay, just stop being so nice to me, please, Yoongi.”

A concerned expression graces Yoongi’s face as he cups your face in his palms for the second time that night. “What?”

“Please stop,” was all you could weakly muster out, pushing against him again. This time his hands fell limply to his side, and you took your escape out into the night, once again leaving him in a dejected confusion.

_______________________________________________________________________

You couldn’t bring yourself to get up to go to class the next morning, especially not marketing, especially especially not when you were supposed to save someone a seat in that class. You saw a notification come up on your laptop that you had one attendance point for today, and laughed, realizing it was the only time you had skipped class all semester. Maybe the first time in college, come to think of it. And all because of your best friend.

You were mindlessly flipping through tv channels when you realized you had a voicemail from Yoongi, voice full of worry, telling you about how sorry he is about that dumb guy, how much better you deserve, and whether or not he could drop by with the class notes from today for you.

You felt guilty enough to force yourself to compose a quick text just to let him know you were okay and that you’d see him in class the following Monday, but felt a ball of anxiety knot in the pit of your stomach when his immediate reply to your text was simply “come down please”.

You inch over to your curtains, pulling them back just a smidgen to look out, and there it was – Yoongi’s white car, parked directly in front of the staircase to your apartment.

You threw your favourite grey hoodie over yourself and tiptoed out of the apartment, trying not to alert Kelsey, who was getting ready for class. You took a deep breath when you began walking down the stairs, bracing yourself for whatever was ahead.

When you got to his car, Yoongi leaned over to open the passenger door for you, welcoming you into the warmth of his car. Two cups of coffee and a bag of steaming breakfast sandwiches lay on the dash, Yoongi ever the provider.

You sat in the seat next to him, and eyed him carefully for a moment, neither one of you offering to speak yet. Eventually, Yoongi nervously reached a hand over to cradle the back of your hand that was rested on your knee. “I just don’t understand it.”

“Understand what?”

“How a man could be brave enough to ask you out and then not follow up on it. The logic of that is beyond me. And –“ he held a finger up with his free hand – “I know it must be a blow to the ego. But, _____, please don’t let yourself dwell on it. He doesn’t deserve any more of your time or thoughts. You do deserve someone who takes care of you.”

You shook your head. “Yoongi, please stop talking about that stupid boy. I keep telling you, I don’t care about him. It was just a minor frustration.” You felt the familiar sting of hot tears rising to your eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that week. Using your free hand, you quickly brushed away the beginnings of any that threatened to slip out.

“I know you’re hurt…” he said, ever so gently.

“Yes! I’m hurting!” you yelped in his face, maybe a little too loudly.

“And it hurts me to see you like this! I need to know how to help!” Yoongi’s tone easily matched yours in passion, but he could never bring himself to actually raise his voice. Especially not to you.

He tried to interlace his fingers with yours, but you pull your hand back. The anguished expression on his face at your rejection was just enough to push your tears over the edge, and they once again flowed freely.

“Stop hurting me then! We can’t keep going like this, Yoons, I care about you too much, I…I –“ you trailed off almost at the point of hyperventilation, crossing your arms across your chest in an attempt to do anything to keep yourself calm.

The shock on Yoongi’s face was unlike anything you’d seen on him before. He was almost to the point of tears himself now. “What? Angel, am I hurting you somehow? You have to tell me, I love you, the last thing in this life I want to do is hurt you…”

“I love you too! But not in the way you think! And I’m sorry, I’ve tried so, so hard to not think about it and, and to just move on but. I can’t! I fucking love you, Yoongi!” You didn’t try to scream it out as loudly as you did. But there it was. Out there now, and it couldn’t be taken back…there was no mistaking your feelings this time. You couldn’t bear to see what would come next, and buried your face in your arms as you sobbed your heart out.

If Yoongi’s shocked silence was any more deafening, your ear drums would’ve burst. It took way too long for an eventual soft “Hey…” to roll of his tongue.

“Stop crying.”

You kept your head hidden, sobbing onto your own arms.

“I love you too…I mean it. I’ve tried to show it to you for years, but I just wasn’t brave enough to say it, oh my god I love you so much, oh my gosh please stop crying you’re breaking my heart – “

Your heard whipped up now, puffy red eyes meeting his own swollen ones. “What are you talking about?”

“I. Love. You.”

You knew you probably should’ve stopped crying as loudly at that point, but you couldn’t. “You do?”

“Yeah. I do.”

Yoongi whipped the arm rest backward to remove the only barrier from between you two, and pushed his chair till it went as far back as it could go. “Come here,” he said, patting his own chest.

You took the hand he offered out to you, awkwardly trying to maneuver yourself over to him. You sat facing him, straddling his lap, and he pulled your sniffling form tight into his warm chest. “Please don’t be sad anymore,” he whispered into your hair, hand rubbing soothing circles into your back.

You pushed off of him to bring yourself to an upright position so that you could see his face. He looked so beautiful, eyes staring at you full of emotion, his delicate hand thumbing at the hair on the nape of your neck. Your head still swam with all of the new information it was trying to hold, but for the first time in a long while, you truly felt like everything was going to be okay. He leaned forward and rubbed his nose against yours, barely touching it. You tilted your head up to place a gentle kiss on the tip of his button nose.

He let out a soft giggle – music to your ears -  and gently placed a palm on your cheek. He rested his forehead against your head, but kept his eyes fully open and trained on yours. “So…is there any chance you’d like to be my girlfriend?”

You nodded and giggled like a silly schoolgirl, but were cut off by his warm lips pressing against your own. You were caught off guard at first, but soon melted into the kiss, becoming putty under his touch.

A few seconds later he pulled away, not wanting to overwhelm you, but you were having none of that. Your fingers curled around the collar of his hoodie, dragging him back to you as soon as you caught your breath. Just like you had dreamed about so many times before, you let your fingers tangle in his dark locks and twisted them accordingly. The small groan of appreciation he let slip out of the back of his throat was all the encouragement you needed to melt into him further. You felt him push against your shoulders, leaning backward until a loud “HONK” sounded from the horn under you, causing you to break apart with a jolt. Yoongi hugged you back into his body with a chuckle, leaning backwards against his seat. You buried your face in the crook of his neck, and placed a soft kiss under his jaw.

“Maybe we should try to make it to our last classes of the day,” he said with a laugh, the reverberations in his chest rumbling against your hand that was laid there.

“Maybe we should,” you said, peppering his jaw with gentle kisses.

_______________________________________________________________________

Twenty minutes later, you were being driven to class, Yoongi’s right hand intertwined with your left, resting against your lap. You felt your phone buzz and checked to see an attachment text from Kelsey. You opened it with curiosity, to find a photo she had evidently snapped on the way to her car earlier.

You on Yoongi, front seat of his car, making out like high schoolers. The caption? “Happy for u”.

You were happy for you, too.

[yeojaa]

SWEET LULLABIES, chapter iii. (w. JJK)

You've never loved in half measures.  It's always been all or nothing.  You didn't even mind when your heart was bigger than theirs.  Lopsided or not, you made up for whatever they wouldn't give.  But when you've finally met your match, what will happen?

alt summary.  You're crazy in love and for once, so is he.

pairing.  jeon jungkook.  

genre + rating.  a whole lot of angst with a bit of fluff if you squint.  general.

warnings / tags.   friendship, best friends, best friends to lovers, friends to lovers, canon compliant, jeon jungkook is whipped, smitten jeon jungkook, jeon jungkook is bad at feelings.

reading.  sweet lullabies is a series of one-shots that tie into and conclude my other story, sugar high.  both are part of the best friends means forever series.  this is a bonus chapter from kook’s point of view. 

word count.  ~6250

chapter 3.  Save Me

The one where he’d almost lost you.

He doesn’t think he’ll ever get over it;  luckily, he doesn’t think he’ll ever want to.

After all, you’re a dream come true.  You’re everything he’d ever hoped for, years of toffee-sweet daydreams and quiet desires wrapped up with a ribbon and presented in the form of his beloved best friend.  His Polaris - his north star in every sense of the word, guiding him home whenever he needed it.  A person to hold him close, to tend to the oft-neglected garden blooming behind a brassy ribcage.  You’re everything he’d ever wanted and even the things he hadn’t known he had.  

“What’re you thinking about?”  A question slotted into silence by a gentle hand and half-lidded stare, warmth dusting over the exposed expanse of Jungkook’s collar.  It feels like a beckoning to dreams and he can’t help but smile, expression endlessly soft as he inspects the girl in his arms.  His girl.  

He hums once, a noncommittal sound.  “Nothing.  Go back to sleep, baby.”  It’s true for the most part.  It’s nothing now.  But once upon a time, it’d been the single most frightening possibility.  Losing you.

And oh, how close he’d been to that.

NOVEMBER 27, 2017

“Seriously?”  It sounds bad - he knows it does - tight and terse between his teeth.  It’s coloured an alarming shade of red and acts like a beacon to those around him because there aren’t many things that have him acting out in this particular way.  

After all, he’d grown up in a very short period of time - something he was endlessly proud of and incredibly grateful to his hyungs for.  Their patience and mentorship had helped shape him into the well-adjusted young man he was now.  

Or usually was.  Not right now, though.    

“What’s wrong, Jungkookie?”  It’s Jimin -  seated closest to him and always somehow strangely aware of everything - who speaks first and in dulcet tones meant to coddle and soothe, lithe arm finding its way around his maknae’s shoulders.  Seated how they are, it’s easy, but Jungkook notices with amusement that it won’t always be.  Soon, he’ll be far too broad for this.  Their little muscle pig wasn’t so little anymore.

His response is immediate, though filled with petulance and beneath that, the tiniest tinge of shame.  “Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me,”  comes the same songbird, his head dropping to rest easily against the youngest member’s.  Jimin knows he’s pushing but he also knows he needs to.  It’s easy to read the golden boy.

Silence stretches for a beat, then another, and he almost sighs - but doesn’t.  Jungkook can feel it rising in the other’s chest before it’s stolen away by his grudging response.  They’re less childish now, though still a bit sullen, rounded by a pout that he can’t seem to help.  “It’s just Soo.”

It doesn’t come as a surprise to the smaller dancer, his expression thoughtful.  “What’s going on?”

Wasn’t that the million dollar question?

Truthfully, Jungkook didn’t know what was going on.  In fact, he wasn’t even sure if anything was going on - or if it was all just in his head.  That was the worst part:  the uncertainty.  Each intrusive thought, each second guess.  It felt like a downright disease, taking up precious space in his skull and refusing to let go.  

“Jungkookie?”  There’s no expectation in Jimin’s inflection.  It’s only concern in sugar-spun tendrils, holding the nickname aloft.

“I don’t know,”  Jungkook finally manages in a whine.  The slope of his brow is knit together, distress threaded into every line as his arms fold, crossing in a huff over his chest.  He hates feeling silly like this, so he does his best to turn the emotion on its head and force it into something else.  It’s not necessary but it feels a bit better, like a fortress he can hide his heart within.

A sigh expels, exits through his nostrils in a sharp push of air.  He knows Jimin is just trying to help but he’s having trouble formulating words into coherent sentences.  The thoughts are too jumbled in his head, bouncing around like an overzealous energizer bunny.

“She’s been really distant lately.”  A partial answer, because he’s sure there are a million other reasons he could give.  Like he was simply stressed (true) or you’ve been posting about your great new life in the States and hardly answering him (the same answer as his original but a little too much to admit).

Or even that you’d mentioned a new friend - a male friend who, surprisingly, hit closer to home than he’d expected - and now he was seething.  Except he’d never repeat that last one.  It wasn’t his place to.  He was your best friend.  Nothing more, nothing less.

“Aren’t her exams coming up soon?”  

Leave it to Park Jimin to find the middle ground - that grey area in between all the good and the bad and frame it in a way that had Jungkook frowning, softly rounded mouth dragging in distaste.

He hadn’t even thought about that.  Or maybe he had, but it’d gotten lost among all the white noise and loneliness.  Frankly, he’s not sure.  His thoughts were always full of you and it was hard to distinguish sometimes.  “Maybe.”

“So maybe she’s just busy?”  As if Jungkook hadn’t already considered that.  He wasn’t trying to be crazy.  In fact, he hated it with every ounce of his being.  But he’d seen the photos you’d sent (admittedly, directly to him) and he knew you weren’t too wrapped up in your finals.  You’d found time in between the late night study sessions to attend house parties, knocking back venti-sized Americanos the next morning to stave off hangovers.

It was surprising, actually.  You’d never been great at handling your liquor - something you insisted you got from your father - but you were out all the time now and always with them.

Yejin, he didn’t mind.  She’d appeared in FaceTimes with you often enough that he’d developed his own sort of rapport with her.  She didn’t give a shit about the Korean music industry and treated him like anyone else, albeit with a lot more scoffing English than he’d ever faced before.

It was her cousin that left a bad taste in his mouth, a mixture of vinegar and battery acid.  Not that Kim Woosung was a bad person - at least, from what he’d heard from the people here, and definitely not from you.  Rather, it was jealousy, that cruel green monster rearing its ugly head.  It’d made a home in his chest, unleashing balefire at anyone remotely close to the aching thing in his chest.

Because that’s what you were - his heart in human form.  

But he’d never expected you to disappear halfway across the world.  He’d always thought you’d be here, holding his hand.  Now he had this gaping you-shaped hole in his chest and he didn’t know how to fill it.  Truthfully, didn’t know if he wanted to.  

“Maybe,”  he relents, quiet as a mouse.  He knows he isn’t fooling anyone by the whispered admission but it’s a shutting door, sealing the conversation for another time.

NOVEMBER 30, 2017

He can feel the stare burning into the back of his head before the words reach his ears.  

“What time did you sleep last night?”  There’s no judgment, no anger - just soft shades of concern and coaxing swept across each syllable. That’s why Namjoon was such a good leader - he knew how to approach his members.  Understood them, possibly, better than they did themselves.

“I don’t remember.”  Jungkook’s answer is full of apology, a guilty smile framing the pink turn of his mouth and forcing a dimple into his cheek.  He thinks it must’ve been around two or three in the morning, as he’d stayed up to talk to you after your first class.  Stayed up after being out all day and practising for hours.  

The shadows under his eyes might as well have been a glaring neon sign or an advertisement for the sleep-deprived.

Namjoon says nothing, his expression still endlessly kind, just barely touched with reproach by the line of his lips and the subtle tension in his jaw.  He’s careful - he needs to be when it comes to matters of the heart with his maknae.  Because despite his dismissive laughter and playful nature, Jungkook was also one of the most sensitive members.  He just hid it well - sweeping it behind his bunny smile and witch’s cackle.  

Consideration stretches silence on for a beat longer before the taller of the two is smiling, crescent moons forming his eyes.  A hand cards through silk the colour of smoke and he regards the younger boy with tenderness.  “Don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?”

“I won’t.”  What Jungkook means to say is he’ll try to remember.  He has to, for them.  Because his actions weren’t just his own - hadn’t been since he’d committed to this crazy wild path years ago - and he has to be considerate.  Has to be better.  “Thanks, hyung.”  

“Just watching out,”  comes the elder’s response with a noncommittal wave of his hand, focus already reassigned to the book laid across the table in front of him.  He’s so immediately absorbed into it that Jungkook’s a little envious, legs of his chair dragging over linoleum as he edges himself into Namjoon’s personal space.  

It’s a testament to their close bond that he doesn’t even flinch, simply shifting ever so slightly to the right to allow Jungkook a better view over his shoulder.

Maybe this is what he needed - a distraction.

“Hyung.”  The inflection immediately perks Namjoon’s attention, head turning just so to acknowledge the other’s address.  “How do you...”  A prolonged pause as Jungkook mules his next words over, finger resting delicately on his cupid’s bow.  Was he really doing this?  “How do you... distract yourself?”  Okay, so not quite the question he’d meant to pose, but good enough for the time being.

Straight brows pitch higher, shooting up in surprise.  Whatever Namjoon had been expecting, it isn’t this.  “What do you mean distract myself?”

Suddenly, Jungkook’s on the spot, the full weight of the rapper’s stare turned on him.  The focus makes him waver, teeth wearing through the supple interior of his cheek and the soft petal of his bottom lip.  Fingers fidget, push and pull on the sweater paw he’s formed.  

“Uh.”  Good one, JK.  

He clears his throat once, twice.  He looks a little chagrined, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.  

“When you’re going through things—”  The attempt at ambiguity is as transparent as the windows around them.  “—that are hard, how do you distract yourself?  How do you forget about it?”

“Well, you don’t just forget about your problems.”  Something about Namjoon’s expression has him looking away, flustered.  “I say it’s always better to try to fix your problems than to run from them but,”  and Jungkook latches onto this inch of give,  “if you need a distraction for a while, find something that takes up the extra time you’d otherwise spend stressing about the problem.  A hobby, maybe.”

Well, he had tons of those.  He gamed in his downtime - his Widow headshots were unparalleled, if he was being honest.  He filmed whenever they were out;  he’d even cut and uploaded his and Jimin’s recent trip to Tokyo.  He worked out, forcing his body into a state of fatigue that left his thoughts far too tired to run cruel circles through his mind.  But it was never enough.

“I have hobbies.  It doesn’t work.”  There’s a desperate edge to his words that he hadn’t meant to let slip.  “It’s fine.  Whatever.”  Again, another door closed.  Slammed shut by his own foot in his mouth.

“Then maybe it’s an issue you can’t just distract yourself from.”

Of course Namjoon’s right.  Jungkook knows that but it doesn’t help the bitterness that bleeds onto his tongue and rots enamel.  “That’s not an option.”  Rather, he wouldn’t let it be.  There were do’s and don’ts in best friendships and confessing your unrequited love was on the hard list of don’ts.

“Jungkook-ah...”

“What?”  It explodes off of his tongue, though he doesn’t mean for it to.  The nerves are fizzling in his stomach, ricocheting from his mouth like fireworks into the quiet between them.  They’re too bright - demanding attention.  He thinks, if they were real, they’d paint pretty silhouettes of the girl he can’t get out of his mind.

“Just tell her.”  

“No.”  

They’re an immovable object and an unstoppable force.

Harder now, edged with exasperation and so much concern it makes Jungkook’s heart stutter in his chest.  “You have to.”  

“I can’t.”  Emphatic, spoken with both lips and eyes.  They beg for understanding, like a man lost at sea desperate for a ship on the horizon.  Because that’s exactly what he is – a lovelorn sailor swept to his doom by the siren call, one he’s utterly defenceless against.  He wouldn’t be like this if he had any other choice.  

“Okay.”  A pause, a sigh, a relent.  “I’m here if you need anything.”

DECEMBER 14, 2017

It’s two weeks later when he needs that anything, driven to it by the radio silence he feels in his bones, tearing apart each and every part of him like a black hole devouring the stars.  Because rather than it being a tangible pain he can distract from - replace with another, sharper sting - it’s become a dull ache that exists in every action and inaction, engulfing his thoughts even as they try to focus on anything else.

He thinks he can’t be held responsible for the choices he makes when there’s too much going on in this head of his, his thoughts far too jumbled to be held accountable.

So he smiles at the very pretty girl that’s been deemed the anything he needs and tries to focus on the way her mouth curls, painted an intoxicating shade of ruby red.  He trains his attention on the flutter of her lashes, the coquettish way she ducks her head when he meets her stare.  He memorizes the way her voice pitches and drops, sugary sweet and decidedly feminine.

Does it because it’s the only way to fill the lovesick hole in his heart, even if it doesn’t really work.  Even if the puzzle piece doesn’t quite fit, corners snipped and reassembled to take up the space the essential piece has left behind.

“I can’t believe you asked for my number,”  she's saying, all rose-tinted cheeks and a smile he finds endearing.  Fingers - short, slim, dainty - smooth over the ceramic of her cup and she peers at him from over the edge.  It’s meant to be sly, to draw his attention to the way her mouth curls around the lip, and for a moment, it does.  It piques something in the back of his mind, apathetic green monster rearing its ugly head at the prospect of something new.

Something not named Park Soomi.

He latches onto the interest with both hands, proverbial grip torn apart by rug burn and his attempt to hold onto it.  He needs this.  He needs this so fucking bad.  “Why not?”

“I mean, you’re you.”  The way she says it makes the hair on the back of Jungkook’s neck rise and the fingers in his lap curl into fists.

It brews bitterness on his tongue - the aroma of his coffee lost to the taste.  He can’t help the reaction, even while he knows he can’t blame her for it (nor should he).

After all, she had the Namjoon stamp of approval.  And if there was anything he trusted, it was his leader‘s judgment.

“I’m just a normal guy,”  he insists, mouth full of laughter he forces out.  He says it with as much meaning as he can, though he knows the words don’t hold much weight.  Not when they’re so at odds with the truth.  Luckily, the two aren’t mutually exclusive.

She doesn’t have a rebuttal now, only choosing to offer that same soft smile. 

It doesn’t trap him like a star in the galaxy, but it holds his attention.  It reassigns it from the hole in his chest to the brightness of her teeth and the sweetly rounded cupid’s bow and that’s enough.

“I’ll prove it to you.”  Whether he means the words, he’s not sure, but they come of their own volition, sounding off like a promise.  He thinks he can feel warmth spiking across his neck, creeping up past the collar of his flannel once the words settle, a blanket draped over the cozy space they've carved out in the hole-in-the-wall cafe.  When her eyes follow the heat, coaxing it higher with her stare, he knows it’s there.  It makes him swallow thickly - was he in over his head?

When her hand drifts - those big doe eyes of his tracking every movement - and fingers ghost over the tops of the back of his, he knows he is.

“You’re dangerous, huh?”  He asks, though he knows the answer.  Can see it reflected in the impossibly dark depths of grey circle lenses, contrast stark against the perfectly layered and blended makeup smudged around her eyes.  It’s something he’s used to - that idolizing, somehow endlessly adoring stare he’s seen a million times, in the sea of faces he performs for - but here, it feels different.  A little closer to home.  

"Only if you want me to be."  And he thinks he does.

DECEMBER 21, 2017

"Good morning, sleepyhead."

Your voice cuts through his early morning exhaustion, striking a proverbial match as neurons fire off beneath his skin, nerves fizzling in his stomach.  It rings clear across the airwaves and for the first time in what feels like ever, it feels like nails on a chalkboard.  For the first time, it doesn't have honey melting into every crevice, warming him from the inside out.

The smallest flash of irritation flares - a lightning strike in his jumbled thoughts.  It's so drastically different from anything he's ever associated with you.  Maybe this was good.  Maybe this was progress.  

"You called."  Deadpan, because Jungkook's still half-asleep but more than that, he's rough around the edges, your hot and cold treatment of him the past few weeks simmering bitterness in his veins.  "Finally found some time for me?"

The intake of breath has him immediately regretting the words, a breath sucked in sharply through his teeth.  He imagines you're doing the same, by the silence that stretches on.  That, or you're tearing a hole through your cheek.  He wants to tell you to stop - to apologize for being an asshole at 7 o'clock in the morning, but he doesn't.

"I've been busy with exams,"  you finally speak and it sounds so small, his heart twists itself over and over.  It doesn't break, though, and that's a feat he never thought he'd accomplish.

"I know."  It’s all he can say, an octave softer but still miles away from the sunny warmth he's used to spilling forth like an overflowing bucket of yellow paint.  It feels strange to hold himself so closely, refusing to allow his abundance of affection colour every syllable and sweep him headlong into the love he feels for you.  "Did you need something?"

Another inhale and - maybe his ears are playing tricks on him but it sounds strange, wet - you're speaking as quietly as he's ever heard, as if you're afraid your words will elicit an reaction somehow worse than what you've already faced.  "Did you want to watch a movie tonight?"  

He has to applaud you for your insistence, though the tiny, bitter part of himself glimpses that flair of annoyance at the edges of his vision once again.  

"I'm busy."  It's the truth but it's not something that's ever stopped him before.  Jungkook was notorious for making time for you, rearranging his schedule enough to make Namjoon want to rip his hair out.  So it's odd, even to him, that the next words - the lie - rolls of his tongue so easily.  "We're working on a new routine tonight."

"Oh."  

The single word has enough weight to crush his heart beneath your heel.  How fitting that it's actually the opposite now, and your own is crumbling beneath his foot.  At least, that's what he thinks - assumes by the dead silence that follows it.

"Sorry then."  You're trying so hard to keep your voice chipper that it leaps higher than is natural and rings in his ears, making him grimace.  Even if he didn't know you so well, he'd be able to read you like a book.  You're far too transparent.  "Good luck.  I know you'll do great - you always do."  

A thanks is all he offers in response, ready to end the call and only stopped by a heart-wrenching last goodbye.  "I love you, Kook."  

He wishes he'd hung up faster.  

Instead, he utters a soft "you, too" and ends the call.  He has a date to get ready for.

DECEMBER 22, 2017

When he stumbles through the front door of their shared apartment, he can still taste the sticky, not unpleasant sweetness of her lips.  It tingles his tastebuds like fresh berries and makes him laugh a little to himself, back of his hand rising to wipe away the residual gloss.  

Peeling off his shoes - he’s careful not to cause too much of a ruckus because it’s almost one in the morning and the last thing he wants is to wake anyone up - he finds himself humming quietly.  It’s low in his throat and muddled by the taste of beer but it’s there, sweeping the quiet from the entryway as laces untie and boots are neatly tucked away out of sight.

He’d had fun, much to his surprise.  Honestly more than than he’d expected, because he'd never been the biggest fan of upscale restaurants, or bustling bars, or glossy pink lip gloss.  But that'd changed in the span of one night, all those strange things somehow sparking a bunny smile and his trademark, boisterous laughter.

Because Jungkook likes that she comes with all of that and she’s everything he needs - at least for now.

She’s a breath of fresh air in a life dominated by strict practice schedules and mandated appearances.  In a way, she’s everything he'd ever hoped for in a distraction - pretty, fun, a little demanding.  She keeps him on his toes in a way he isn’t used to, never giving his thoughts enough time to re-centre on the silhouette that exists like a cookie-cutter carving in his chest.

A temporary fix, possibly - surely - but he didn't mind.  Couldn't find it in himself to when he'd found some semblance of peace for the first time in weeks.

"Did you tell Soo we had practice tonight?"

The voice breaks him from his thoughts, shoots an arrow that lands bullseye on his heart, and he gasps.  He hadn't noticed the figure lingering in the kitchen, hunched over their kitchen table with one headphone in and a sketchbook in his hands.  

Of course Taehyung would be awake.  Why was he surprised?

Oh, because of the question.  The one he hasn't answered, instead gaping at the other like a fish out of water.  Mouth opens around sound that doesn’t come out then closes and repeats itself twice more.  Taehyung doesn't repeat himself, simply staring at Jungkook with an expression that cuts him to his core.

Because he's not angry, or judgmental.  No, he's disappointed.  It's written into the arches of his brows, the way his headband-covered forehead wrinkles just so.  

"What?"  It's soft, hesitant, careful.  There's already embarrassment crowning, locking into the column of Jungkook's spine and rooting him all the way through to his feet.  It keeps him from advancing further into the apartment, caught halfway between the adjoined living space and the hallway that beckons him to the safety of his bedroom.  

Instead, his gaze swizzles, bounces and leaps between the door at the end of the hall and the other member sitting at the table, focus trained wholly on him.  It's hard to meet Taehyung's eyes - and that feels uncomfortable in a way he doesn't want to think about.

"Did you tell Soo we had practice tonight?"  Finally repeated, verbatim, in that some low drawl of his.  

It's posed as an innocent question, all sleepy eyes and carefully trained mouth.  It makes Jungkook's own purse, tongue rounding the hollow of his cheek.  Though he knows he shouldn’t, the desire to bite back stirs in his stomach and he has to clench his fists at his sides, nails digging crescents into the flesh of his palms.

“Why?”  He’s aware he’s answered a question with another question - something he finds infuriating himself, but he can’t help it.  He’s not ready for the lecture he’s sure will come.

Taehyung shifts, arms folded across his chest, and says nothing.  It’s somehow more unnerving than if he were to tear into Jungkook.

“We were talking earlier.  She asked how practice had gone.”  There’s a sour edge to Taehyung’s explanation, colouring words highlighter yellow and toxic green.  “Imagine her surprise when I had no idea what she was talking about.”  

Jungkook knows there’s no point - no reason to voice the shame he already knows stitches his features together.  Taehyung presses on, nonplussed by his maknae’s discomfort.

“You didn’t tell her you had a date?”  

“Why would I?”  It’s defensive, juvenile, a world away from what he wants it to be.  It garners him a look that teeters dangerously on flabbergasted, Taehyung’s groomed brows gathering tightly over his stare.

For what it’s worth, his words are measured - far more reasonable than Jungkook deserves.  “Because she’s your best friend?”

“I don’t need to tell her everything,”  and while that’s true - it somehow doesn’t feel great with life breathed into it.  Fully realized, it’s harsh and covered in thorns that catch on the way out of his mouth, tearing up the insides of his cheeks with razor-sharp edges.

“She was hurt.”

That should be enough.  At any other time, it would be.   It’d have Jungkook crawling on his hands and knees - anything to wipe that sadness from your face.  But here and now, caught between a rock and a hard place, it means nothing to him.  At least, that’s what he tells himself, forcing down the bile that rises in his throat.  “Then she should mind her own business.”

Taehyung knows this isn’t the Jeon Jungkook he knows.  Knows that this version of their beloved maknae is but a caricature carved from hurt and frustration and bruises that bloom like weeds.   It doesn’t mean it’s okay.

“You don’t mean that,” he says kindly, softer than he has the whole interaction.

“I do,”   comes Jungkook’s immediate retort, though it lacks any real strength.  It’s small, like it wasn’t meant to be said.

“You need to tell her.”

It’s not the first, second, or third time he’s heard these words;  he wishes it were the last.

“No.”  And he’s walking away again, disappearing into the safety of his own room where he spends the next five hours wide awake and miserable.

DECEMBER 25, 2017

It’s the first time he’s spent Christmas without you. It feels wrong, like any other Monday morning rather than the merry day it is. There’s no golden tinsel strung throughout his thoughts, no cheerily sang carols on repeat in his mind. The magic is gone - stripped away by the loss of you.

You haven’t spoken to him in days.  Since his little white lie - because that’s all it’d been, he tells himself - had come to light, you’d made yourself scarce.  There were no more stories posted to social media, no mentions of your name from the other members.  It was like you’d disappeared, taking all the sunlight with you.

Where he’s once laid his head and called home, there was nothing left.

“Come have breakfast, Jungkookie.”  It’s Jimin peeking into his bedroom, small hands curled around the door frame.  His hair’s a little wonky - sticking up at odd angles - but he appears happy, like he should.

Jungkook wonders how he looks.  If the shadows under his eyes give away all the demons that make homes in the hollows.

“I’m not hungry.”  Or rather, he didn’t have an appetite.  Didn’t have much of anything, truthfully.

“You need to eat.”  It’s the same wide-eyed concern he’s seen edged in everyone’s expression.  It makes his throat constrict, the thing in his chest thumping an erratic rhythm as it threatens to launch itself out of its brassy, broken confines. 

Shoulders shift, rise and fall like a breaching wave, and he shakes his head again.  “I’m really not hungry.”  Even to his own ears, he sounds strange.  His words are held together by flimsy strings, knots frayed and ready to split.  There are stirrings of guilt, tendrils of it curling like smoke through his lungs.  It’s only a matter of time until the fire engulfs every inch of him, scorching all in its path. 

He thinks he wouldn’t mind, if it’d replace the ash that lingers in a fine layer over each thought.

What had happened to his distraction?  Where was it - she - now when he needed it most?

Namjoon’s words reverberate in his skull, rattle around like coins in a pocket.  Maybe it wasn’t something he could distract himself from.  Why hadn’t he listened? It would still suck, surely, but he thinks it might not have mutated, shaped into this new divide by his own hand.

Because now there were miles between you and he only had himself to blame - his own face reflected back at him when he sought to find an answer for the radio silence.

It felt worse than he could’ve imagined.

“At least come join us.”  Jimin is insistent, refusing to let Jungkook wallow in his own self-imposed misery.  Hands coax, tugging at the hem of the younger’s sleeve.  It doesn't move him from his spot, two feet planted firmly as the wheels of his desk chair roll in a semi-circle and return to their original position.  They both know Jimin's weight means nothing against Jungkook's but the dancer is insistent, refusing to budge from where he stands, chest to shoulder with the stubborn boy.  "Jungkookie."

When Jungkook remains steadfastly focused on his computer - on the glowing lights of his keyboard, the front page of Naver - Jimin sighs loudly.  He feels a little bad about it.  Jimin's not the reason he's in this position.  

"Jin-hyung went all out.  You don't want to miss this."  

It's a good tactic.  Any other day and Jungkook would've jumped at the thought of a feast.  After all, he was a growing boy which meant he was always, always hungry. 

As if in response - in a great show of rebellion - his stomach rumbles, breaking the silence he'd meant to drag on.  Betrayed by his own body.

He blanches in the same instant Jimin grins, full mouth spread around a smile that screams victory!

"Come on."  This time, Jungkook relents, lets the other's hands coax him from his seat.  He's still a little begrudging though, shoulders inched forward and chin tucked against his chest in an exaggerated display of resistance.  He even drags his bare feet a little, but Jimin is wholly unbothered.  

Because whether the maknae believes it or not, his members know best.  They know the size of his heart and the fact that a very vital piece seems to be missing.  But that doesn't mean they can't fill it in the ways they know how, with boisterous laughter and his favourite ice cream, hand written letters and silly elf hats.  

They might not have been his Christmas miracle but that didn't mean they wouldn't try.

JANUARY 1, 2018

He thinks it should be easier.  The worst had come and gone, after all.  

He'd spent the rest of the holidays occupied with public appearances and precious moments with his hyungs, exchanging small presents and doing everything he could to keep his mind off of you.  It'd worked, for the most part.  He hadn't had enough time to wallow in that pit of despair he'd come to call home, instead pulled from it by obligations and the hands of his loved ones.

And yet he can't help the way he checks his phone, turns it over and over in his hands like another flip might throw the universe into motion, righting its off-kilter axis.  

"You look stressed."  A voice purrs - but it's not you so he doesn't really listen.  Doesn't even flinch when a warm body settles itself against his side in a veil of vanilla powder and glossy curls.  "What's wrong, babe?"  There's a hand on his knee and lips at his ear, roses painting the shell as she presses herself closer.  

Jungkook’s certain it's meant to be reassuring but he can only lean away, eager to put as much space between them as possible.  For the first time, it feels wrong.  Like the distraction wasn't made for him, but by him.  This isn’t what he wants.  It throws every action, every minute adjustment of her features, into stark relief.

So it's impossible to miss the look on her face, how it screams hurt and surprise and what the hell are you doing?  

"What?"  The word comes in a pair - from him and her.  It's almost comical how she sounds in comparison to him, all edges and affront to his soft utterance.  There's venom in her single syllable, laid there by a sharp tongue and sharper teeth.  It's the first time he's been on the receiving end of it and he has to admit - he hates it.  It gnaws at his insides.  He realizes he's letting her down.

Like Frankenstein, he's created a monster he can't control.

"What's your problem?"  She's far less angry than she deserves to be.  If he were in her shoes, he'd be black and blue, howling at the moon.  Instead, she's still soft, affection dulling the bile that rightfully rises in her throat.  Even now, he can see the way she looks at him - larger than life, with stars in her eyes.

Jungkook doesn't find it in himself to answer immediately, instead staring adamantly at an indiscernible point behind her.  "Nothing."  It's the farthest thing from believable, a lie that fixes itself between them, bright red and beguiling.  

"It doesn't seem like nothing."  For what it's worth, she's trying.  He can tell she is by how her tone changes, adapts to the relutance he shows.  She's trying to coax something more from him, shifting slightly closer when he doesn't immediately recoil.  "The fireworks are on.  Let's go join everyone else."

It's a great idea in theory but it's the last thing he wants to do.  So he says as much, shaking his head in the same moment.

"I'm heading home."  It doesn't matter that he's nowhere near their dorms or that she suddenly looks like a kicked puppy.  All Jungkook knows is that he has to be anywhere but here.  "Have fun tonight."

He's rising before she even has a chance to respond, flipping the hood of his sweatshirt up over his carefully styled strands.  When she reaches for him, he retreats a step, putting as much distance between them as he can in the small room.  It isn't easy - she's everywhere, light reflecting off the sequins of her pretty white dress, the scent of her perfume presenting itself with every inhale.

"I'm sorry,"  he says and he means it, despite the disbelief that paints her features.  

Without looking back, he disappears out the door, sliding past the milling bodies, the various performers and staff that wander the halls.  Excitement still buzzes among the dispersed crowd and he finds himself getting swept up in the occasional hello, deterred from his mission over and over again.  

It isn't until his phone rings, tone interrupting the one-sided conversation, that he's able to pull himself away.  He thanks his lucky stars - until he sees the caller ID.

Because it's you.  You - the person he's been waiting for all this time.  

It has his heart hammering in his chest, his grip on the device suddenly so tight he worries he might crack the screen.  You're finally calling him.  After weeks, you were there, familiar contact photo beaming up at him.

"Hello?"  He can hear the hope in his own voice.  

There's a long pause and he feels his throat constrict.  Had you not meant to call?  Was it a pocket dial?  A million questions run rampant through his thoughts, kicking up dust and gravel that he nearly trips over in his haste to get a response.

"Soo?"

"Happy New Year, Jungkook-ssi."  The way you say his name makes him want to cry with relief because there's tenderness still, hidden beneath the soft, half-whispered greeting.  You sound exactly like you always have, if not a little quieter, with more reserve, and he wants to live in the sound, how it settles into his head like it belongs there.  

"Happy New Year,"  he echoes back in a voice thick with emotion.  

You were finally home.

notes.  this chapter is the painful brainchild of mine and @keywepie​ and as such, is dedicated to her.  thank you for letting me talk your ear off and i’m sorry it took so long!

and yes, this kook is very different from the present-day kook in the series but that’s the point.  he was!!  hurting n sad!!  and way younger!!!!!

[a-mythical-lady]

Books and me.

14 years ago

(Age: 7)

It was bedtime and maa had just made my bed when I heard the front door open. Papa was home from work and I could hear bhai running to see papa and tell him random stuff. I bet papa listened to everything, despite being tired. After that, he came to my room, "Look what I got you" he said, and extended a book to me. I was confused as he had never brought me a book before. It was a book called Panchatantra. A story of an old rishi who gives life lessons to his five shishyas at the gurukul through stories about nature and animals. I was excited about getting my first book and begrudgingly, maa let me stay up later than usual. That night, sprawled on my bed, I was entranced and fascinated by all the different stories and scenes and talking animals. The next morning, I woke up by myself and finished the entire book by noon.

The next thing I know, I'm collecting comics and storybooks and getting addicted to them. Piling up tinkle comics, Archie's and Amar Chitra Katha was my only goal. Every train journey to my native place involved dragging papa to the railway station bookstore and getting myself a comic book for the train ride. I begged my parents to subscribe to storybooks along with the daily morning newspaper, and they relented after a lot of coaxing. Then, every Monday morning I'd wait eagerly for the newspaper boy to deliver my weekly dose of happiness with books of chacha Choudary, chandamama, and champak. Soon, this became an obsession that even my parents started noticing. Maa began hiding my copies of storybooks during the exams and giving them back only after all my exams were done. I began pestering papa to get me more and more books every day. Sometimes he would get me a double digest edition of tinkle and I'd be ecstatic and over the moon. It's amazing how something so small and silly used to make me so happy. I'd re-read the same books once I'd gone through my entire stash of new books. Out of desperation, I'd read anything I could lay my hands on. In school, we used to get all our term textbooks a month before the reopening of a new academic year and my English textbooks fell prey to this obsession of mine. I'd know all the lessons and stories by heart before the school year started. I think that was one of the reasons for the nerd label I got in school. I even started reading stories from the Bible, borrowing storybooks from another girl in my neighborhood. Little did I know that this was only the beginning.

10 years ago

(Age: 11)

One fine summer afternoon, bhai was busy watching tv in the living room and maa and papa were at work. We had free rein on the tv as it was the summer holidays and I had free rein on my books. I was lazing around in my room and started searching the entire house for something new to read. And finally, I found a book among bhai's things. It was probably a gift. It wasn't a comic book or a usual storybook. This one was an actual book. A novel. And it had no pictures. I was skeptical but boredom got the best of me and I decided to read a few pages to pass the time. It was a hardy boys book, written by Franklin W Dixon. After reading a few pages, my 11-year-old brain almost exploded with fascination. The style of writing, the mystery, the suspense of the entire book drew me in completely and I knew then, this was a turning point in my life where books are concerned. I felt almost grown-up. And so I read the 200 page novel with wide eyes and a bursting heart in 3 hours, without even getting up to pee. I went and told bhai about the new book I read. He laughed it off. I told maa and papa when they came back from work. "That's good beta", they said. I was disappointed that they didn't feel the same exhilaration that I did. Papa still got my books whenever I asked him. For the second time, I found myself collecting and piling up books. All of the hardy boys and Nancy drew collections. Once again, I was entranced, trapped yet alive like never before in a whole new world.

After that, a multitude of options lay before me. I dived headfirst into reading mystery and moved onto classics written by Charles Dickens, The Bronté sisters, Mary Shelly, and even a dash of Shakespeare. I fell in love with David Copperfield, Oliver twist, treasure island, Jane Eyre and Frankenstein.

But eventually, buying books so often became a chore and at the pace I was reading, with one book hardly lasting a day, we couldn't afford to buy as many books. So, then one day, maa and I set out on a goose chase all over the city looking for libraries where I could borrow books from. At last, we found an old government library inside an even older building that looked almost haunted. And as we bravely stepped into the barely holding up building, we only found old uncles reading newspapers and gossiping. Thankfully, there was a rack of English fiction. Just one single rack. Although mildly disappointed, I was determined to make do with that. I got myself a membership plan and my reading palette had its first taste of Indian authors. That one rack had a fair collection of young adult books, standalone contemporary novels which sated my hunger for quite some time. While other people gushed over my habit of reading books, my parents were a little concerned. But as I started writing my own speeches in school, improved in my speaking skills, I'm sure they were convinced and over time, I think they accepted this obsession of mine. Or at the very least, were forced to.

6 years ago.

(Age: 15)

My love for reading only grew and now I had a book beside me during breakfast, lunch, and dinner which my parents barely tolerated. I even started planting a book in every corner of my house for easy access, under the coffee table, by my bed, on my study table. While kids my age sneaked mobile phones under their pillows, I sneaked in books to read.

After a few years, I finally met a kindred spirit with a shared love for reading. He was older than me and introduced me to books by Dan Brown. I listened with rapt attention to the plot of the book and I immediately knew that my days of reading hardy boys and young adult books were over. It's crazy how transitioning between genres and different types of books made me feel older and mature over the years. Few pages into the Da Vinci code and I fell, hook, line, and sinker. I finished the entire 500-page book in a day. Back then, I was pretty adamant about having my own copies of books and collecting them, which I guess stemmed from my childhood obsession with collecting comics. Soon, I'd exhausted the books at the old library and had no other option but to trade in my precious books for second-hand books at a wholesale book store very far away from home. Because they were at a secondhand rate, I could now afford more books and although the pages were worn out and yellowed, I was happy. The already folded pages, notes in the corners of some pages jotted down by the previous owner made me feel oddly connected and attached.

Present-day

(Age: 21)

As I grew up and left my teenage years behind, life and boards got in my way and there were gaps when I couldn't read no matter how hard I tried. But once I found my way back to books. I knew what I was missing and knew that I would never stop reading again. I still read books by Dan Brown, Sydney Sheldon, and Nora Roberts. I found quite a few talented Indian authors. Books by Durjoy Dutta and Ravinder Singh made me fall in love with contemporary romance and light humor. I've moved on to reading books on my phone now. I miss turning pages of an actual book, but on the bright side, I get to read countless books anytime and anywhere I want. I've explored many genres over the years, murder and crime thrillers, romance, contemporary, dark fiction, and comedy, and read them accordingly when the mood strikes.

If there's one thing that has been a constant through my childhood, it has been books. Reading is a huge part of my life and very close to my heart. Words and writing mean so much to me. Books have been my solace, my safe place, my companions as I grew up, my fantasy land, and my hiding place all rolled into one. I've cried, loved, smiled, and laughed with books and I can't describe how utterly grateful I am to maa and papa for getting me my first book when I was just 7 and letting me explore my love for reading.

Although, there's one thing I'd like to admit. There's this one genre that I've never read - non-fiction and strangely, I'm still very skeptical about it. But you never know, over time I might come to like that as well!

MAJ

[werejusttouchingeachother]

SEOUL 2018 [August 10th, 4:27PM]

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 T/W: angst - mentions of abuse, depression, suicide, cursing Words: 4171

It was almost two months later when you finally met Baekhyun again after the night he left New York. He’d been at the dorms and you’d felt more terrified than you had been when you first launched your boutique.

Manager had ushered you inside quickly, immediately making you feel awkward as your eyes met Junmyeon and Sehun who were sitting on the couch and watching something on the television.

“Y/N,” Junmyeon called your name in surprise as he quickly stood up, wide eyes exchanging glances with Manager behind you. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

“I don’t think anyone did, Hyung,” Sehun mutters, giving you a small smile. “Hi, Noona. It’s been a long time. I missed you.”

You smile fondly at that, tense shoulders loosening at his contagious warmth. “I missed you too, Sehun.”

“I’m mad at you, though.” He crossed his arms. “You never called. Or responded to my texts.”

You flinched, expecting this accusation from the youngest member who’d always had the most fun teasing you and who you knew would take your silent treatment the hardest—not when you’d spent days and nights sending each other funny memes and pictures of dogs with bad haircuts almost on a daily basis only to suddenly ghost him.

“Yeah, I just…” you trail off and shake your head, knowing excuses were in vain. “I’m sorry. I should have replied.”

Sehun blinks at your sincere apology, not having expected it and his face clouds over with worry at your seriousness.

“Sehun,” Jun says, nudging him. “You can catch up with her later.” He gives you a meaningful look as he asks, “Y/N, aren’t you here to—?”

“Yeah, I’ll go check,” Manager says, turning to your left in the direction of the rooms. You grab his arm to stop him.

“Does he…?” You trail off and Manager hesitates before nodding.

“I told him that you landed here today morning.” He pauses before saying, “I think he’s expecting you.”

You waited in the hallway then as all the members slowly filed out of their rooms, giving you polite formal smiles (Jongin, Yixing and Jongdae), wary looks (Minseok and Kyungsoo) or blatantly ignored your presence (Chanyeol).

You didn’t say anything. If any of them knew what had exactly happened, you were sure that it had to be Chanyeol.

All of them joined Junmyeon and Sehun in the hall, the farthest room from Baekhyun’s to give you as much privacy as they could within a dormitory. Bowing your head in thanks, you walk past Manager and head for the right door at the end of the hallway.

Taking a deep breath, you raise your hand and knock gently on the door. You can hear the silence of the usually noisy dorm and it doesn’t help the way your heart is pounding against your rib-cage, your stomach twisting with anxiety.

The door opens then and your breath catches as your eyes fall on Baekhyun.

His hair is dishevelled and his clothes are drabby, hanging off him in a way that you knew all too-well that he had been wearing them for a while. His cheeks are hollow and your eyes run over his clothes, growing frustrated when you realise they’re too large to figure out whether he’d lost weight.

“You haven’t been eating,” Baekhyun says, his tone flat and your eyes fly back up to his face in surprise. You feel your skin rise with goosebumps at hearing his voice after so long and your eyes sting with unshed tears that you have to forcibly blink back.

“I…” You clear your throat before raising an eyebrow at him. “Neither have you. Your face has grown thinner.”

“What is this, a competition?” He rolls his eyes, stepping away to let you in.

“If it is, nobody is winning!” You hear Sehun shout from the hall, making you roll your eyes.

“Sehun, shut up!” Baekhyun yells as he closes the door behind him. You bite your lip as you look around the familiar room that was almost a home to you at one point—a point that seemed entirely too long ago now.

“Did you wear lipstick? Or did you chew it all off?” Baekhyun asks, pointing out your usual nervous habit and your gaze shifts back to him as he sits in his gaming chair, opposite the bed that looked unusually tidy.

He hasn’t been sleeping.  

“Did you sleep at all this past week?” You shoot back, crossing your arms as you sit down on the bed and cock your head at the neatly made sheets. “Or leave that seat? How long have you been gaming in those clothes?”

“Why do you care?” Baekhyun snaps and you sigh, leaning back as you square your shoulders and remind yourself not to follow his childish antics.

“I didn’t come here to fight, Baek,” you start, trying to gather your thoughts. “I—”

“Y/N.” His voice is sharp enough that you stop, eyebrows rising as he inhales deeply before saying, “If you’re here to break up, just leave. I haven’t processed a lot since New York but I’m not numb enough that I can sit here and listen to you end everything. Being here in Korea must be killing you anyway so just leave and I’ll consider it the end. Let’s not make this any harder than it—”

“Shut the fuck up, Baekhyun,” you snap, eyes narrowed in disbelief as you gape at him. “Is that what you want to do? New York to be our last conversation? Just leave a two-years-long relationship like this?” You shake your head, holding up your hand to stop whatever he was going to say as you interrupted, “I’ll leave soon, don’t worry. As soon as I’m done telling you what I have to tell you.”

He falls silent, eyes watching you carefully and you take a breath before starting. “I told you something that night two months ago. Before you said that I shouldn’t be feeling that way. Something about my childhood. Do you remember?”

Baekhyun nods slowly. “You said that you’ve never been enough for your parents from when you were young. And I made you feel like that again, yeah, that’s burned into my memory, don’t worry.”

You shake your head, shooting him a look. “That first part, yes. The second part, no. This is what I flew out here to tell you, face-to-face. What I should have told you that night.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you take a second to muster the courage to say what you’re going to say. Baekhyun immediately notices your hesitation, his eyes clouding with worry at the obvious storm raging inside your mind right now.

It almost makes you smile—the fact that he could still read you like an open book. Despite all the pain, all the misunderstanding, all the conflicting emotions that were stirred up amongst both of you, he still worried about you, your thoughts, your nervous habits and your weight.

“My parents came from well-reputed families,” you started, leaning back against the wall. “It was an arranged marriage, a union that was more of a business deal than that of love. They weren’t chaebols or anything but they were well-off and had a long uninterrupted line of sons on my father’s side that always took over the business and carried it forward.”

Baekhyun’s face falls at this, already knowing where this was headed as you continued, “They wanted a boy. When I was born, it was more of a shock than anything. They tried a lot for a second child but my mother had some health issues and there were complications. So they were stuck with me and I was… never enough. I did everything they wanted me to do, always obeying their insane rules and never had any fun the way other kids did. I used to draw a lot from when I was a kid and they would rip my drawings apart, throw my colours away. I’d get into trouble if I didn’t do the homework or scored anything less than hundred on tests. I used to cry at school and my teacher told me that they do it because they love me, because they care. That most parents are strict so the kids will grow to be really smart.”

“So I studied hard. Began to buy separate notebooks to draw in and hide them where they wouldn’t find them. I lived by the rules they made, all through middle school and high school—it was always hell, I was always wishing to get away. I never even dared to like someone as a teenager because I feared what would happen at home if they found out. I didn’t have any friends because they discouraged it, said it was a distraction. They’d decided on the day of my birth that since I couldn’t take over the business, I’d follow the highest position for a woman—medicine. Their words, not mine. So then, I joined medical school and when I had to draw more bodies and organs than the clothes that went on it, I snapped. I had a phase where I stopped attending classes, where I failed all the exams and almost got suspended. It was a highly prestigious school so they called in my parents and they paid heftily to keep me at school, promising that I’d make up for it.”

You pause then, lowering your head and taking a breath since the next thing was particularly difficult to voice out loud.

“That was the second time my father hit me,” you say in a hoarse voice, clearing your throat before continuing, “The first time was in elementary when they found my doodles for the first time on my books. The teacher had sent a note to them, suggesting to join an art class because I drew more than I wrote notes and they beat me till I was black and blue. They told me that art was for idiots, that things like drawing, writing, acting and singing would never get me anywhere in life. After that was when I started my preparation for medical school. After I failed that too, I thought they would understand then or at least try. But they beat me again. And I thought I’d kill myself so, I ran away from home.”

You glance at him, smiling slightly. “That time we were at Tokyo, you were so surprised when I didn’t want to take pictures together under the cherry blossom trees. It’s not because I was cold that night—it’s because cherry blossoms always reminds me of that night I ran out in Korea. They were all I could see when I looked up and they were so pretty that it felt like they were mocking me. That was the first time I wished I could look up at the sky and see the Eiffel Tower, wish that I could be at Paris where I could draw freely and just live for myself.”

“And that’s when I realised that I was going to kill myself when I hadn’t ever lived. Not once, not even for a day, had I lived for myself. It was always for my parents and they never even appreciated my efforts or tried to understand me.”

You look up then, smiling although you couldn’t see him because your eyes were tearing up. “The only time that I lived was when I designed. I had nothing to lose. There was no one to please so I thought I’d fully meet the criteria of such a worthless disappointing child. I started dreaming about Paris and my boutique—I started dreaming of skies where I could look up and see the Eiffel.”

Baekhyun’s expression is unreadable but you continue, “You know the rest from here. I lied about going for classes and instead worked many part-time jobs. I saved up just enough money for one of the cheapest flights to Paris but it wasn’t enough, of course not. I got kicked out of school and I didn’t wait to get kicked out of home too—I used all the money I’d saved to move out instead and started working at Korea. Three years later, about the time all my friends were graduating from college, I finally had enough to go to Paris. For seven months, I struggled and starved and almost died because of how poor I was before my designs finally caught the eye of someone who saw my potential. I became his apprentice.”

You take a deep breath and grabbed the pillow from his bed, hugging it in your lap because your hands were shaking.

“I have a lot of issues with my parents, Baekhyun,” you state aloud, looking at him. “My childhood was traumatic for me and there’s a lot that I’ve been suppressing from when I was a kid. I’m insecure when people show me affection because I’m not used to receiving it, I have anxieties about whether they will leave so I think I should leave first because I always tend to think I don’t deserve whatever love I get. Seoyeon is a clear example of that as my only friend—the only one I’ve trusted enough to get close to me.”

“I moved out of the apartment after you left.” His eyebrows rise at this and you explain, “It felt lonelier when you were gone. It was too big and memories kept haunting me, I was always going crazy with my own thoughts so I decided to move into a smaller place.”

You paused then, inhaling softly as you felt your shoulders lighten like you’d just lifted a burden, one that had been weighing down on you for almost all your life. Feeling your heart race slightly because of the next thing you were going to say, you mentally prepared yourself for all the negative possibilities before continuing.

“I’m going for therapy,” you declare, watching his eyes widen in surprise at this. “Seoyeon told me that if I never deal with my past, it’s always going to affect any relationship that I have. I started almost as soon as you left and all these things I told you, Baekhyun, they’re-they’re just the surface of it. You know that I hate coming back to Korea even though you didn’t know exactly why. Same with the cherry blossom trees. There’s a lot more that I can’t tell you, a lot that I can only tell my therapist because it’s difficult for me to admit it openly, even to myself. But at the same time, these are the things I should have talked to you about, like you told me that night at New York. I let my insecurities get to my head and projected it onto you which was unfair.”

You place the pillow back and stand up then, looking down at him.

“I understand and accept everything you said that night,” you state, Baekhyun gazing up at you unblinkingly. "We don’t have to go public. We never do. I don’t care about that and I don’t think I ever did. The party that night, the way everyone was so welcoming… it made me question if I was even worth standing around such people. If I was worthy of your love and care.”

“And that is not your fault, Baekhyun,” you clearly enunciate, knowing he was going to interrupt with the opposite statement. “Those are just my fears stemming from my shitty childhood. Apparently my first instinct when shown love is to fight and then flee. But I know now that it’s not a matter of worth—you’ve only loved and cared for me, unconditionally, even when I’ve been closed off and so difficult.”

“I…” You trail off, heavy emotion weighing down on your chest suddenly and making you choke on your words as you hoarsely say, “I’ve only known darkness, Baekhyun, so when you shone down on me with all your light, I got blinded. I was an idiot and I fucked up something that was beautiful and the best thing that ever happened to me. But I can see clearer now for the first time in my life and I know better. And I know that I love you. So much that I am even willing to be mysterious Mrs. Byun X forever. No one has to know about us or me and I couldn’t care less.”

You take a breath then, meeting his gaze. “I’m opening the door again, Baek. And I’m giving you the same option I did last time except now, I can promise you that I do not care about being hidden and I also promise to try and fight my demons from wrecking what we have. If we have it again.”

Baekhyun blinks at you, pouty lips parted open as he gapes at you like a fish and you nod, stepping to the door slowly.

“You don’t have to answer right now,” you reassure him, forcing yourself to smile even though you were beyond terrified. “I know it’s a lot to take at once. Manager has the address of my hotel and I’m staying for a week. Or you can just text me, if you don’t want to see me. He has my number too.”

Baekhyun doesn’t say a word and you feel your heart crack slightly in your chest as you nod, biting down on your lip and turn to the door.

Swallowing heavily, you mutter, “Goodbye, Bae—”

You’re spun around by a death grip on your arm then, eyes widening as you look up at Baekhyun standing right in front of you.

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he dragged you back to the bed. He placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down forcibly, ordering, “Sit.”

“How can you leave like that?” Baekhyun asked, disbelief colouring his tone. “I didn’t even speak yet.”

You blink at his glare, stammering, “I mean-I just-I didn’t want you to feel pressured—”

“Y/N, it’s been two fucking months,” he snorts, shooting you a look. He retrieves his hands from your shoulders and lowers himself to the floor at your feet.

“You know that you can just sit beside me?” You ask, glaring down at him as a sudden memory flashes vividly in your mind. “Or back on that seat across from me?”

He shrugs as he sits cross-legged, looking up at you. The room’s light was right behind you and it shone down right on his face that made it look like he had stars in his eyes and you wondered if it was bright enough to hurt him.

“I want to look at you,” he says quietly.

“You’re sitting the same way you did that night,” you remind him softly, biting down on your lip.

His eyebrows furrow in confusion before he realises, eyes softening as he takes your hand from your lap slowly.

“I’m not leaving this time,” Baekhyun assured you gently, giving you a small smile as he played with your fingers. He raises his other hand to your face and tugged your lower lip loose from your teeth, shaking his head at you and giving you a warning look, the way he always used to whenever you kept gnawing at your lips.

He sits back and gives you a cheeky smile then. “Technically, I can’t. You came here to the dorms so I don’t really have anywhere to go from here—”

“I missed you,” you blurted, unable to stop yourself. His smile freezes at your words and you blink back the tears gathering furiously as you corrected in a softer tone, “I miss you.”

“Me too,” he murmurs, intertwining your fingers together. He grips your hand tightly and seems to struggle as he forces the next words out, “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there for you. Therapy and dealing with everything from your past can’t have been easy. I should have been there, I shouldn’t have left—”

“Baek, no,” you grab his hand holding yours with your other hand, shaking your head vehemently at him. “It’s good that you did. I needed to get my shit together—about me, about us. I needed to do it, it was time.”

He looks into your eyes, voice meek as he asks, “Are you okay?”

You start to nod and he tightens his grip on your hand again as he repeats, “No, Y/N. Really… are you okay?”

You pause, swallowing slightly as you look down at both your hands. “It’s… a lot. There’s a lot that I’m remembering and reliving that I don’t want to. But that’s how I can make peace with it, how I can stop—” You take a shaky breath, choking as you finish, “—stop hurting myself. And stop myself from hurting you.”

“Oh, god, Y/N.” Baekhyun lets go of your hands then, wrapping his arms around your shoulders. You still at the sudden unexpected embrace and he pulls you down from the bed onto his lap, hugging you tightly to him.

Your entire body seems frozen as you find yourself on the floor with him, his arms clutching you tightly to him.

“Baek,” you whisper, practically trembling in his arms when you feel his warmth singe into your skin. He is as warm as you remember him and when his scent, your instant comforter, flooded your nose after missing it for what felt like forever—you’re almost ready to cry.

He pulls away to look at you, shaking his head as he whispers, “Please don’t cry, baby, it kills me.”

His hands cup your face and you close your eyes, leaning into his touch as you sigh softly. You open your eyes and almost melt when you see the way he’s staring at you.

It reminded you of Paris—the way he looked at you every night when he said ‘goodbye’ at the door of your hotel room, a gaze that lingered and that you were reluctant to break away from.

Despite saying it already, you repeat, “I miss—”

Baekhyun closes the gap between your mouths, his plush lips pressing against yours tenderly as he held your face in his hands. You closed your eyes, responding instantly while your hands fist into the front of his shirt, clutching him tightly as if you were afraid he’d slip away.

He kisses you back just as fervently, holding you gently as if he didn’t want to break you. The kiss tastes as sweet as the first, your heart thudding against your chest and butterflies erupting in your stomach as if it was your first time.

You pull away to breathe with your eyes still closed and he presses his forehead against yours, feeling your breaths intermingle. Your eyelids flutter open and his thumb wipes a stray tear that had streaked down your cheek.

“I missed you too,” he breathes, pressing another kiss to your mouth. He lingers before pulling away, lowering his hands from your face as his eyes meet yours with determination before muttering, “Fuck it.”

You blink. “What?”

“Fuck it. I love you. We’ll make it through this, through everything—my job, your past, everything. We walked into this thinking our biggest problem would be the distance and we’ve overcome that. It’s… it’s fine. I can’t lose you again, Y/N. These two months have been hell, I’ve just been going crazy in here.” Baekhyun takes in a shaky breath, grabbing your hands from his chest and staring at your joined fingers. “Hyungnim told me that you needed some space and I thought it was over so I broke down but then he told me to wait, that you just needed some time. I thought you’d made your decision and the reason you weren’t reaching out was because you didn’t want to… be with me anymore.”

You shake your head and lean forward, kissing him. “That’s not… you know I can’t leave you, Baekhyun.”

“Then don’t.”

You smile, nodding slightly. “I won’t.” You hesitate, biting your lower lip as you ask timidly, “Does this mean that you’re walking in through the open door again?”

He smiles then, cheeks puffing and eyes shining as he replies, “Well, you know what they say. Love is an open door.”

“Literally betrayed her and left her to die but okay, Hans,” you tease and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine.” He grins, releasing your hands and wrapping his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest. “Then… oh, right. Paris. Love is your open arms.”

You roll your eyes teasingly, snorting, “Always so cheesy.”

“Shut up, you love it.” Baekhyun drops a kiss on the top of your head and you close your eyes, smiling at how much you’d missed the gesture—genuinely smiling with your heart feeling full for the first time in months. Your veins that had gone numb after so much time apart finally felt alive, filling with the ethereal golden rays as he basked you in his contagious warmth.

Your sunshine.

[arlocedwards]

╰ ✧ HARRY STYLES. MUSE NINE. PANSEXUAL ❞ say hello to the s club’s very own ARLO EDWARDS! a TWENTY-FOUR YEAR OLD, CISMALE that goes by HE/HIM pronouns. i heard they were voted BEST SHOULDER TO CRY ON in high school, which says a lot about them because they’re very IDEALISTIC and INTUITIVE, but watch out for their DETACHED and DESTRUCTIVE side as well. i hope they’re ready to take a break from being a MUSICIAN and finally get this summer started! ( kt / 24 / pst / she/her )

hiya! i am kt &+ underneath the read more is some info about my bb, arlo. ** insert clown emoji but make him yee-haw ** 

trigger warning : death .

NAME: arlo cornelius edwards. GENDER: cismale. PRONOUNS: he, him. AGE: twenty-four ( 24 ). BIRTHDAY: february 14th. ZODIAC: aquarius !! HOMETOWN: kent, england. ORIENTATION: pansexual OCCUPATION: drummer. LANGUAGES SPOKEN: english & french. FACECLAIM: harry styles ~ currently featuring long hair.  :’-) 

kt’s note: I KNOW THIS IS SO LONG, SO IF YOU DON’T READ IT, I WILL NOT GET OFFENDED. 

but, just read this so y’know what you’re getting yourself into when interactions open : death tw: arlo will be joining this summers reunion coming from his parents home, post-funeral, trying to escape boxing up his brothers stuff and wanting to not be pitied. :’-( my boy is going through it, so his typical behavior and personality is gonna be v muted for a while.

ᴀʀʟᴏ'ꜱ ʙᴀᴄᴋɢʀᴏᴜɴᴅ

arlo was born in kent, england. i know what you’re wondering, and yes, he does have an accent. :’-) his family moved to new york when he was five years old because arlo’s father was offered a high level position within his company.

arlo was born into a loving family, him being the middle child. he has two supportive parents, sasha edwards (his mother), & carter edwards (his father). there are two years separating him from both his older brother and younger sister. his older brother ( now deceased ) was named holden edwards, and his little sister is named ivy edwards. his older brother can be imagined as eric matthews from boy meets world ( at the end of the day, they were bffs ) & his little sister is quite literally cher horowitz from clueless mixed w/ a splash of bianca stratford from 10 things i hate about you  ( they are polar opposites which makes for a fun dynamic !! )

growing up, arlo enjoyed playing all types of sports - there truly wasn’t anything that he wasn’t really good at, and that’s simply because he’s always been such a competitive individual. he would go home and practice a skill or trick for hours in order to be able to come back the next day and whoop everyone’s asses. he will fight  you over board games and make alliances in monopoly to mess w/ you. 

his interest in taking up an instrument kicked in when he was seven years old. he and his dad were driving back from a hockey game together late at night, and his dad played him the song moby dick by led zeppelin & he knew it was something that he wanted to pursue bc “john bonham was a genius.” ~ arlo vc. and so his dad gifted him a drum set on his eighth birthday !! :’-) soft. but over the years he was exposed to other instruments and can also play the guitar, piano, and he has a nice set of pipes !! harry styles being his vc as well ~ makes it easy. he really wants to learn the saxophone tho??? don’t get him started - he will go on and on and on.

throughout highschoool ; arlo was a v dedicated student. although he’s a bit reckless and loved to goof off, he was always acing classes and applying himself. he genuinely cares for others, you could’ve seen his ass volunteering at a soup kitchen with his mom on sundays and what not! just soft things.

until now - now anti-soft. hard things.  sdgjdjgd okay, so, arlo is A Mess™️. and i say that with so much love in my bones. arlo is the type of friend that is honest, and all about tough love when it’s needed. he doesn’t mind getting into a fight or two if he knows its worth the outcome he’s envisioned. he will tell you when you’re fucking up, and if you’re throwing a punch as a result - catch him leaning into it. this ties in l8r !!

he’s just a bit desperate to feel against following the death of his brother & also post-break up with shanley? ( which give me one hot sec and i’ll go into those v soon ) but overall he just wants to feel like himself again, y’know ?? don’t we all. amen & what not. to break it down, he just feels so intensely that he ends up numbing himself in the aftermath of it all, and he’s sadly willing to put himself into harms way in order to get a bit of that - happiness / pain, it doesn’t matter to him as long as he no longer feels numb. so, if ya see him with some scrapes and stitches ~ MIND YA BUSINESS.

arlo’s lurve life : woo ! okay, welcome back -- let’s get into it. so shanley and arlo dated throughout hs and into their first year of college, for a whopping five years together before they broke up. god if you’ve made it this far, i applaud you...but hmu and let me know your fav color, okay? like and comment below ?? subscribe ?? thx. OKAY BACK TO BUSINESS. in case you’re wondering who broke up with who, gosh so nosy, let me just tell you ‘twas arlo. he did it, we can unfollow his ass now. BUT ~ he didn’t want to ? y’know. he felt like due to the long distance, she was missing out on college experiences and her waiting by the phone for him to call was just sad, and he felt guilty. he wanted her to enjoy her time and felt as if he was weighing her down. although he did try make an effort to fix this doing by visiting her that weekend at her university in chicago, but when he came across her with friends he felt stupid and bailed back to cali again. a couple months later he called her, hoping to apologize for his poor judgement and admit to his mistake of ending the relationship, but she wasn’t the one who answered the phone. arlo assumed the random guy who answered was shanley’s new boyfriend (although , he was shanley’s roommates boyfriend but my sad dumb ass boi didn’t know ). arlo only assumed the voice belonged to shan’s bf bc he swears the voice distinctly said “coming, babe!” ( although he did, just not to shanley) and ever since arlo’s been a bit jaded when it comes to romance. shanley called him back later that day, and arlo shrugged her off bc he was jealous af and drunk - claiming he “butt dialed her and it wouldn’t happen again.” :’-( since then they haven’t been in contact. 

he was so in love with shanley, and despite him being the one to end things, he’s never fully gotten over her. he’s definitely hooked up with other people, but my boy is not the committing type after that relationship. 

after high school, arlo attended stanford university, as they offer one of the best criminal law programs across the nation. wahoo ! yahtzee !

after graduating college, arlo moved to san francisco & moved in with ali !! they have a nice little place overlooking the golden gate bridge w/ quality acoustics for their creative music projects. / also where he currently lives !! :’-) we love a bromance.

while in san francisco, arlo attended university to continue on pursuing his law degree  and after two years was able to graduate with his juris doctor. 

TRIGGER WARNING : DEATH / CAR ACCIDENT / DRUNK DRIVING. the death of his brother is very recent, like four weeks ago recent. arlo and his brother were road tripping across the states back to their family home in NY to visit their parents, when a drunk driver struck the driver side of their vehicle, which on impact killed his brother. arlo has survivors guilt as a result from the accident. he and his brother had switched seats a couple minutes prior to the collision, after arlo had asked to switch with him in order to rest for a bit. :’-( miraculously, arlo was unscathed in the greater scheme of all things injury-based. he’s entering the villa w/ a couple broken ribs, broken left arm and scrapes/cuts. so plz sign his cast. 

post-break up with shanley, they had some type of unspoken agreement of trading off years of who gets to attend the summer( aka who has custody of the sclub ) and so last year, arlo did not attend. however, this year, they somehow got their info wrong about who was going / not going, so they have found themselves here at the same time. this being the first time they’ve seen each other since holidays during their first year of college previous to their break up. so get ready for some spice.

last summer, since arlo wasn’t attending the sclub reunion, he was taking the california state bar exam. which is only offered twice a year - he opted for the one in july and passed! :’-) he spent some time after the exam in europe with hastrid. <3

however, arlo will be joining this summers reunion coming from his parents home, post-funeral, trying to escape boxing up his brothers stuff and wanting to not be pitied. :’-( my boy is going through it, so his typical behavior and personality is gonna be v muted for a while.

ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ

overall : arlo truly strives to be kind, and genuinely wants for everyone to get along. treat people with kindness and the like. he has the best of intentions, but often times that can get a bit muddled with the way he goes about things due to his chaotic energy. he will do anything to lighten a dark mood, and will sacrifice / throw himself under the bus if its needed. however, he also is the type to cause the dark mood depending on the day.

however rn, with his current state of mind, arlo is just going through the motions. numbing himself with unhealthy outlets and has a different type of mentality. definitely engaging in a bit of the more chaotic activities, as well as leaving everyone alone to their own vices as well. whereas his typical behavior would be more so attempting to lead them onto a better path if it meant well for their overall wellbeing. 

habits : smoking cigarettes ( ali likely nags him bc they aren’t herbal ) . staying up into the early hours of the morning, and yet somehow still an early riser ( hence, he drinks an absurd amount of coffee ). yeah, hence. - get it, from the house bunny? sdjfkngdg any who, he’s in a phase of numbing via alcohol and drugs rn. 

personality type : INTP - T / THE LOGICIAN

moral alignment : chaotic good

tarot card : the hermit ( currently )

character inspo : connor walsh from how to get away with murder, jess mariano from gilmore girls, & ambrose spellman from chilling adventures of sabrina ( literally his #1 ranked personality match on a quiz i took ) !! so, we have that ! and also a heavy sprinkle of seth cohen from the o.c.

ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴᴏɴꜱ

the album ‘fine line’ by golden child, harry styles in this case will be used as a hc for arlo. arlo wrote and recorded the album - all songs included, with his muse being shanley over the course of the last couple of years. he’s just kind of been sitting on the entire thing, never really feeling it was the right time to release his work/side solo project...but later this summer, he may just leak it. :’-)

arlo is a vegetarian ! he has been since his freshman year of high school.

those who inspire him : roger taylor, mick jagger, alex van halen, john bonham.

LUNA : ali and arlo co-founded the band with friends edie dorn and guy perkins in junior high. playing gigs where they could as often as possible. arlo was on lead vocals, ali as lead guitarist, edie on bass, and guy on drums. although when it came down to recording and what not they seemed to bounce around when it came to other instruments - v experimental. the band took off in college, prior to something strange and over the years they’ve produced numerous albums and have won a couple awards. 

red roses are his Thing™️ ; fans of the band will walk up and hand him them. i think that’s soft. and i am here for it.

he loves fancy wine ~ he’s cultured.

fun fact : dirty dancing is v much so a sharlo movie. they used to practice and be able to successfully pull of the jump & lift dance move literally just for fun / bc they wanted to. after nailing the lift, they learned the entire dance - i can't. dfjkgndjkg SOFT.

arlo has all of harry’s tattoos !! makes it simpler, might add more along the way !! stay tuned, folks !!

also the ‘ h & s ‘ rings that will be seen in photographs later on are for his brother, holden, and bbg, shanley </3

arlo is a gucci enthusiast - having much of his closet filled with staple pieces over the years. to further his love for the brand, he was recently asked to be in an upcoming campaign for the fall season - he’s v jazzed about it.

ᴏᴘᴇɴ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ

𝖌𝖔𝖔𝖉 𝖎𝖓𝖋𝖑𝖚𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊 ( open connection ) : with arlo being a bit chaotic in nature, he needs somebody that is likely going to steer him clear from all the ideas that’ll bring him to the brink of disaster. he’s impulsive and in that desperate attempt to feel again, he’s very likely to bring a bit of mayhem upon himself. so while they may constantly worrying and attempting to talk his ideas down, he’s trying to get them to go along with his plan. it may be rare that he actually takes their advice, but when he does it seems to be for the best.

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉 / 𝖈𝖔𝖓𝖋𝖎𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖙 ( open connection ) : these two know how to have a good time together. despite the amount of alcohol they are throwing back and the shenanigans they find themselves in as a result, this is a time where they also find themselves confiding in one another. if you look at their camera rolls, it’s likely they have tons of embracing and unflattering videos and pics of one another, in between their sob-worthy confessionals and venting/rants. these two trust one another, and although they love getting wreckT together, they find themselves discussing very raw and personal details.

open to other connection you may have in mind! :’-)  LMK!!!! <3 i love me some chemistry !!!

ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴꜱ ( featured on arlo’s connections page here !! )

𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖇𝖊𝖓𝖊𝖋𝖎𝖙𝖘 ( taken - simon peralta ) : these two went through rough break ups of their own, and a rebound didn’t sound too bad to either of them at the time things started. it may not occur all the time, but they sometimes still find themselves offering up to one another. this occurred more frequently then any of arlo’s one night stands, obvi, but it never surpassed anything other than the physical aspect of their relationship. the nature of their relationship outside of the bedroom can go either way !!!  :’-)

𝖆 𝖇𝖗𝖔𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖋𝖔𝖗 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 ( taken - ali mallick ) : as if living together for the past two years wasn’t enough, ali & arlo are also roommates every summer that arlo attends the sclub reunions. these two are always laughing, and saying some ridiculous ish. you’ll likely hear loud jam sessions and howling laughter / the occasional excited shouting back and forth from their room in the late hours. they are truly nothing but a good time and tbh, they know it. that and the fact that they have the best hair in the villa. djfgnjkdfg FIGHT ME !!

𝖍𝖎𝖌𝖍 𝖘𝖈𝖍𝖔𝖔𝖑 𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖊𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖘 ( taken - shanley evans ) : these two began their relationship in their freshman year of high school - spending five years together before breaking up in their freshman year of college. * cries in sharlo * they were the “it” couple, no pennywise included … unless ? anyways, everyone thought that they were going to get married, and arlo was v much in love / thinking shanley was his romantic soulmate. yet when they did break up everyone was shookith - even the birds and the bees.

𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖗𝖔𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘 𝖇𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖒𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖘 ( taken - ali mallick , willow finch , sirena rose ) : these four formed something strange. arlo is the drummer of the group, and also writes some songs for the group. they’ve blown up over the years and are a quite successful group.

𝖛 𝖘𝖎𝖇𝖑𝖎𝖓𝖌-𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖑𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖕 ( taken - sirena rose / willow finch ) : these two have a love/hate relationship, very sibling like filled with pranks, competition, teasing and playful banter. however, when it comes down to it they have so much love and respect for one another. they know that no matter what happens they will always have one anothers back and be supportive of the other. pure relationship.

𝖗𝖎𝖉𝖊 𝖔𝖗 𝖉𝖎𝖊 ( taken - delilah jacobs ) : ride or dies ! need i say more ?? these two have one anothers backs despite anything and everything going on otherwise. they play in to one anothers antics and enjoy one anothers presence as they can likely be seen dragging one another across town and causing a bit of mayhem together. you can catch them in their beautiful, bitch #1 & #2 tee's.

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖈 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖕𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖔𝖓 ( taken - ramona verdez ) : it would be wrong to say one is the more likely the bad influence over the other, although arlo may just be. these two find themselves bounding into, well hell, ( i guess??? ) together. playing on one anothers impulsiveness and if one ends up in the back of a police car, the other is handcuffed to them. and yet despite the length of their potential injuries, they find themselves thinking of something crazier to subject them to the next time around. with arlo having his law degree, he’s always able to squeeze them out of trouble before it gets too serious, so trust - it’s ok !! 

𝖚𝖓𝖑𝖎𝖐𝖊𝖑𝖞 𝖋𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘 / 𝖕𝖔𝖑𝖆𝖗 𝖔𝖕𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖊𝖘 ( taken -  izzy de la rosa ) : these two may have ran in the same circle, but were complete opposites when it came down to their personalities / styles / perhaps even humor, so it was expected for them to stand their distance. however despite the odds, they just clicked !! opposites attract and what not, ya dig??  somehow their dynamic just works and they have a lot of fun together by introducing new things to one another.

[vanchlo]

The Assistant / Chapter Thirty-Three, “If It Kills Me”

A story about what happens when she can’t be just his assistant anymore, and he can no longer be only her boss. Now, can they be happy with being just friends?

Read this story from the beginning here! :-) 

Inspo tag here!

*NEW* Spotify playlist in the works can be found here, songs that inspire me for the story and have significance in the story c: 

Warnings: one brief mention of vomiting, and some mild language.

                                   SNEAKY PEEEEEEEEEEEK

“And Becky’s face consumes my thoughts, much like it’s been captivating my conscience as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly. 

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger. 

I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. I miss all of it.”

Song Inspiration: If It Kills Me by Jason Mraz (click to listen)

            “It’s like before it’s gonna storm, you know? You can’t see it, but you can feel it, like this, uh electricity, you know?” - Steve Harrington, Stranger Things 

The warm rays hit my cheeks as my sandals pound on the pavement. I wonder how I could ever be unhappy given the May sun shining down on me, and walking from my favorite restaurant. Without fail, the blissful idea is stolen away by a swarm of thoughts dosed in reality. And a particular one that reminds me of what I need to do, despite the dread I’ve been feeling. Not even the former respite of Asher’s hug after our shared lunch can keep them away. 

Pulling my phone from my pocket, I swipe through my apps until I find the right one. Stopping in front of my gray car, I lean against the door with a huff. My thumbs hover across the screen nervously, followed by a curse under my breath. Quickly, they flit across the screen composing words in front of my eyes. Sliding into my driver seat, I stare at the screen for a moment longer before hitting send. 

I wait for the chime to come, telling me I have a new message, from him. Nervousness coats my limbs and only grows worse as the minutes tick by driving home. Waiting. But when I check my phone after walking in the door, my lock screen showing my dad and I’s smiling faces is blank. 

No new messages. 

Sliding off my black sandals, I pad through the shared living room and kitchen area before reaching my bedroom. My laptop beckons for me across the room on my desk, and I sit down before it. I hope that maybe if I don’t procrastinate this specific thing, maybe things will turn out a little better. But as I’m opening a study guide for Family Law’s final exam, I’m proven wrong. 

The chime grabs my attention immediately, making my fingers still on the keyboard. Flitting my eyes to the lavender Speck phone case, I grow antsy at wondering who the text is from. And what it says. Inhaling nervously, I pick it up and wake up the screen. The few words of a preview I see of the text cues a sour anxiousness to grow in my stomach. Bringing my knees up onto my chair, I pull them against my chest as I open the text. 

Me

Hey I’m so sorry I’ve been terrible at texting back, finals these next two weeks are getting to me. Speaking of that I realized that I have to take a final at the time we’re supposed to get lunch in a few days. I’m really sorry but can we reschedule . . . again? I was thinking in two weeks when I’m finally free from the clutches of uni????? :( 

Harry 

sorry cant love. im in edinburgh all that week for a case. lets talk about it when im back. good luck w finals xx

Sighing, I type up a short response, agreeing to that. With guilt casting a shadow over me, I return my attention to the lengthy study guide. The gross feeling in my stomach remains, and with its arrival, my excitement for our lunch date is replaced with disappointment. I’ve been looking forward to it for weeks since we rescheduled it the first time, due to me messing up the dates, again. Peeking my eyes at my phone, I turn away and slump against my chair. 

It’s been a month since I saw him last, and although we’ve sent a handful of texts, they haven’t been enough for me. Skye, of course, told me that there’s nothing stopping me from showing up at his office door, but she’s wrong. I don’t know his schedule anymore, and for all I know, I’d be waiting around for him. Plus, my appearance would just yell ‘desperate!’ Sometimes, I wonder what little world Skye is tucked away into that’s far simpler, not realizing I still have to work during the day, especially more so this summer. 

But as the days drag on with chemo and radiation appointments, and lectures upon lectures, I think maybe Skye has the right idea being so optimistic. Maybe. 

+

Over the next few weeks, I see him at almost every corner I turn, and it hurts more than it should after all these weeks. The ignored texts shouldn’t feel like a fresh stab wound when I see that Scrabble box in the family room, get on that very same lift, or walk past the nurse’s station I found him leaning against that morning. Nothing compares to the piano and the pang I feel in my chest at the sight of it. It comes every time I walk through those doors and am reminded of the intimacy held on those keys. No, it didn’t get easier after the first time being back there with my dad, or the fifth time. Avoiding that gray sofa like the plague only reminded me of the texts I sent him that went unanswered. I can’t blame him though, because like a bitch, I took a week sometimes to reply to him. 

The tight feeling in my chest only feels heavier as I sit on the plaid couch in my childhood living room. I can’t even enjoy watching FRIENDS like I used to be able to, as their faces bring forth the sound of his laugh. It pains me to turn down their voices as I dig my phone out from under the cushions. I try not to let it get to me when I, once again, find no new text messages. My attempt is futile and it only causes me to take longer to open the phone app. By now, I know his number by heart, but my shaky hands cause me to mess up a few times. 

Pressing the phone to my ear, all I can hear is its ringing and the pounding of my heart. As the seconds drag on, I’m almost certain I’ll hear the voicemail next. But then I’m pleasantly surprised, although the bitterness in my stomach blossoms. 

“Hullo?” His gravelly voice pulls my lips into an instant smile. Rubbing the back of my neck anxiously, the words fall from my lips hurriedly. 

“Hi, Harry.”

“Hey, how’s it goin’?” he responds curtly, a clattering noise heard in the background before he mutters a ‘shit.’

“I’m sorry, did I call at a bad time?” I ask quickly, regret filling my veins. 

“No, yer fine. ‘m jus’ makin’ dinna.”

“Oh um, nice. What are you cooking?” I inquire, twirling the braided silver ring on my pointer finger. Swallowing, I wait to hear his molasses drawl again, like music to my ears. 

“Jus’ a stir fry. So . . . why’d ya ring?” Harry responds, a coolness hugging his voice. 

“Um, I haven’t heard from you in a while and wanted to say hi.”

“Hi,” he hums awkwardly, followed by the sound of a door closing. Squeezing my eyes shut, uneasiness falls over me in a wave. Oddly, I wonder if all of a sudden I can’t call to say hi. “Ya, we’ve both been busy. Cases fer me, an’ prolly uni an’ yer dad’s treatments fer you.”

“Yeah,” I agree aloud, my chin falling to rest in my palm. But it leaves a second later to lose my fingers in my hair. “I wanted to tell you that I finished my finals last week, so now I just have clinical left in the fall. Oh, and my dad got to ring the bell today. He’s all done with chemo and radiation after his scans all looked good. It’s hard to believe that he’s cancer-free. His doctors will, of course, have to keep an eye on him in the future to make sure it doesn’t come back, but I couldn’t be happier.” 

“Tha’s wonderful, love,” Harry coos into my ear, the first notes of happiness heard in his voice. It begins to put me at ease, and cause me to think maybe something isn’t off after all. “‘m really glad t’ hear that- well both o’ those things.”

Unbeknownst to me, I find myself nodding along with his words as if I needed his confirmation. But his words stop there, and the sickening feeling that something is wrong settles back in. A small ‘yeah’ stumbles off my lips as my fingers form into a fist in my lap, debating what to say next. Or if I should ask what I’ve been wanting to say the entire time. 

“We weren’t able to get ahold of each other a few weeks ago to reschedule lunch. Would you still like to?” Going out on a limb, I let the words fly. 

I watch for them apprehensively, uncertain if they’ll take flight. The loud sound from his side, the subsequent shuffling, and a voice saying his name shoots them down hastily. 

“‘m sorry, I gotta go. ‘ll text ya ‘bout gettin’ lunch,” Harry remarks, his words stringing together swiftly. I barely have the chance to say an ‘okay’ before he abruptly hangs up, sewing together an unwanted thought for me. 

Tossing my phone to the other end of the couch, I fall back against the cushions. Turning up the volume of the telly, I avert my gaze back to the make-believe world I’ve always taken comfort in. As the phone call gnaws away at my insides, planting insecurities every few steps, I let the characters whisk me away. Even if their faces and familiar jokes will now never stop reminding me of him, and something I let go of that I didn’t know I had. I only feel worse when I realize that I knew then that he’d never send that text, and I think he knew that, too.

+

“Staring at it isn’t going to make it ring, y’know,” somebody states, pulling me from my webs of thoughts. 

Lifting my attention away from the black screen in my hand, I catch Myles looking at me impatiently. 

“Wha- ‘m sorry. I was listenin’.”

“Then what’d I just say?” he requests, the hand propped against his chin rising in a silent question. 

My lips fall apart to welcome my voice, but nothing comes out. Shrugging, he receives his answer and replies with a disapproving glare. 

“Hare, this is important stuff. We’re leaving for Edinburgh tomorrow for the case, it’s a huge one.”

“I know, My. Jus’ repeat what ya said, please,” I huff, batting a hand at him. His eyes roll into the back of his head when he leans back in his leather chair. 

“I swear to God, Harry, I-.”

“Stop,” I retort, growing annoyed. 

He plays with the point of his quiffed blonde hair before clearing his throat. Although I try to listen the second time around, my gaze is lulled back to my laptop screen. My fingers itch to touch the keys and type up words, and when Myles begrudgingly answers his ringing phone, I find my chance. Sliding my silent phone into my pocket, I click on the blue thought bubble, only to be met with disappointment. Brushing it away, my fingers fly across the keys and my words are sent with a soft hum. Soon, Myles hangs up the phone with a perturbed sigh and resumes the conversation we were having. Again, I try to return to the bubble we share and the words that occupy it, but my mind is consumed with the anticipation of that coveted ding. And with Becky’s face, much like it’s been captivating my thoughts as of recent. Rather unsurprisingly. 

There it remains for days, much like it has been. It follows me through the air as I stare out the window, floating above the clouds. It crops into my conversations, leeching any enjoyment gathered from them. I even see it in a crowd of people inside the walls of the courtroom before I deliver my closing statement. When I look a second time, I’m disappointed to find the eyes of a stranger. 

It crowds my mind when I wait for the boarding call, tapping my fingers along the screen and watching the words be sent off. I only find a respite from longing for her face when I turn my phone off, trying to stop wondering why she won’t return my texts. That thought only sticks to all of my others during the coming week with more ignored texts, craving her voice, and sufficing for browsing her Instagram. Her face. That smile. The smell that sat in the corner of her neck. All of it. I miss all of it. It gnawed away at me slowly, and terribly, burying doubts beneath my defenses. They sprang up when I least expected them, and when I thought about sending just one more text. A few words wouldn’t hurt anything, I thought, but at the same time, I distrust the ultimate impact they could have. 

The pounding jars me from my reverie, bringing me to my feet slowly. Padding past the television and kitchen area, a yawn jumps from my lips. Another pound lands on the door, dragging my brow into a knot. 

“Oh, shuddup!” I exclaim in disbelief, wrapping my fingers around the smooth metal of the door. Yanking it open, I find the grinning bearded face of my mate standing on my stoop. “‘m not goin’, Rore, I already told ya this.”

“C’mon, Harry, I’ll look like a right idiot being there all alone,” Rory responds, his steps telling me he’s following me inside once I turn around. “Help a mate out here.” 

“Ya, ‘coz ya were so helpful tha otha day when I asked ya t’ consult with me fer the Starkey case.” Scoffing, his words pause between his lips as I fill a glass of water from the attachment on the fridge. “Why’re ya goin’ anyways, since it sounds like sumthin’ yer dreadin’? And since when d’ya even go t’ these sorta things? Last place I thought ‘d see you at, Rore.”

“I don’t, but it’s for me sister’s showing. I can’t miss it, she’s me baby sister. I’d hear about it from me mum for weeks.”

Snorting, I have to pull the glass of water away from my lips. 

“Hope ya bloody choke on that water, mate,” Rory scoffs, only making me laugh harder. Water flies from my lips as I’ve forgotten the glass on the marbled countertop. “Are ya coming or not, Harry? Ya know it’s a good place to pick up chicks, too. They blooming love these art gallery places.”

Recovering from my fit of giggles, I turn my head to find Rory waiting with the question in his eyes. He huffs and riffles a hand through his tousled blonde hair a few shades lighter than that which covers his face. Shaking his head, he wiggles his head at me. 

“I’ll consult with you on the next case, or even give ya first pick,” he whines, folding his hands together under his chin, as if he’s praying. 

“‘m yer bloody boss, I always get first picks,” I murmur, a smile cracking at the end of my words. 

“Oh, fuck off, would you?” he spits, pushing at a chair in front of the seated bar attached to the kitchen island. Clucking his tongue, he messes with the collar of his navy blue blazer thrown over a bloody Zeppelin shirt. Yeah, you sure look artsy there, Rore. But with the next words that fly from his sailor’s mouth, he pins me down. “What’re ya gonna do here anyways, sit and watch the bleeding telly all in your lonesome when ya could be with me getting damn a date?”

Biting my lip, my house slippers come into my view and when Rory’s eyes find them, a laugh explodes from his lips. “Go hurry up and bloody change before you’re too far gone, mate. I’ll be in the car,” he titters before his voice falls with a delighted sigh. Delight found in my pain. 

“Two cases, Rore. Any two cases I want, ya consult with me on. Ya got it?” I argue, following on his footsteps. 

“Whatever makes ya feel better, mate. I know you'll be thanking me later tonight.” 

“Doubt it,” I mutter, watching him open the door, sure there’s a sly grin covering his face. 

I turn to jog up the stairs until I arrive in my bedroom. Quickly, I toss on skinny jeans, a Keith Haring shirt, and a mustard button up smattered with faded white flowers. I look rather artsy, I reckon, I decide as I look at myself in my bathroom mirror. It’s an easy feat when you’re standing next to wannabe Rory over there, though. After taming my hair and finding a pair of shoes, I pad down the stairs. 

“Alexa, turn off all o’ my lights,” I announce, slipping my wallet and phone into my pocket as my hous darkens around me. 

“Take fucking long enough?” Rory groans when I slide into the passenger seat of his silver Sentra. 

“Shuddup and drive, will you? So we can get this ova with.”

“If you’re gonna be an ass tonight, then just go back inside,” he almost laughs, beginning to back away from the towering walls of my house. 

“Talking ‘bout yerself, are ya now?” I quip, bringing my phone from my tight pockets, tapping in my passcode. 

“I’ve noticed, y’know,” he mumbles, barely loud enough for me to hear him. Looking up from the bright screen, his eyes don’t stray from the road. “There’s a girl, isn’t there? Or there was?” he continues, a man I’ve come to love over the last three years he’s worked with me. And somehow I thought I had fooled him, but it turns out, I haven’t. I can’t even fool myself.

“Sumthin’ like that,” I whisper, my attention straying back to the conversation lit on my screen. Another day of the ball being in her court, and she just leaves it in the bloody corner, neglecting it. “I see why ya wanted me t’ come now . . . jus’ don’ try t’ set me up with yer bloody sista. She’s like twenty.”

His hearty chuckle fills the space around us, the words of a song from Death Cab for Cutie lurking in the background. “I won’t, but y’know she’s not gonna let ya out of her sight, mate. She’s had the hots for you from day one.”

“Oh God, Rore, what’d I let ya drag me into here?” I joke, my lips curling into a nervous smile. But the smile feels good, and it feels even better when her name disappears from my screen, and I forget my phone in my pocket. 

+

“What happened to making me dinner?” I whine from the couch, crossing my left leg over the other under the comfort of my blanket. 

“That was when you were busy, and well, the other day when I was feeling generous. Not today, missy,” Skye scoffs, the sound of the fridge shutting marking her words. Something lands in my lap with a plop, startling me. 

“Wow, how gourmet. Why thank you, I definitely don’t need to make dinner now,” I joke, picking up the wrapped piece of string cheese. 

“I know you’re still going to eat it. Just eat cereal or something, you hobo. I’m going to bed at a decent time, unlike somebody.”

“Hey, it’s a Friday!” I argue, pressing the page down button on the remote, waiting for something to catch my eye on Netflix. 

“Yeah, and some of us still have a job on Saturdays!” she calls from her journey down the hall. 

“Party pooper!” 

She remains silent on the defensive line, and so does the list of boring content on the television screen. Relenting, I click over to My Stuff and press play on the next episode of FRIENDS. Relaxing into the cushions, I unwrap the cheese and slowly eat it in strings. Giggles flow from my lips watching the scene unravel in front of me, and some eye-rolls because of Ross or Monica. After a while, my legs stray to the fridge, and I return to the tan sectional with a bowl of Cheerios. The milk threatens to spill over the side when I sit up suddenly, almost yelping in laughter at the scene when Monica and Rachel lose their apartment to Chandler and Joey. The sugary Cheerios soon disappear, and the milk follows them as the episode nears the end. 

Placing my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher, I hurry back to the sofa to catch a Phoebe scene. My cheeks warm with a smile, but they soon grow cold when my thoughts have to interrupt with a memory of his face. That god awfully sweet smile adorned with his cherry lips and precious dimples. Without knowing what I’m doing, the cartoon looking app appears under my nose, and pictures fill my feed. I take a second look at a few of them that catch my attention, the angry voices of Rachel and Monica tickling at my ears. 

Soon, the search bar materializes and although it feels wrong, I type in letter after letter to create his name. I can’t remember the last time I glanced at his profile, just to catch a hint of him. Finding the profile I’ve become familiar with, I tap on his picture and wait for his profile to load. Glancing away, the tv captures my attention once more as I scratch at an itch on my leg. Yawning, I rub at my eye before it falls back to the blindingly bright screen. Blinking hard to clear the haze from my vision, I scroll down to see what new pictures he’s posted, although they’re usually few and far between. 

I find the most recent picture I recognize and tap through them. Picturesque shots from high in the clouds. His unbelievably adorable niece. Food-grams. A picture of a homemade pizza is making my mouth water and is still stuck in my mind when I happen upon the next photo, and the most recent one. The moisture in my mouth is wicked away, suddenly bone dry when the image in front of my eyes slowly registers with me. But I can’t believe it, even though I’m seeing it. I don’t want to see it, or believe it. The moisture reappears in the corners of my eyes quickly as a sourness quickly knits together in my gut. The image shakes in my hands and then blurs in my eyes, accented by the thrashing of my heart inside of my chest. 

“Skye!” I shout, the words leaping from my lips with little success. 

My lip wobbles and I feel my entire face collapse from pain, disbelief, the whole shebang. The sob screaming from my lips is muffled by my fingers coming to my mouth. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” I mutter, inhaling fast and feeling the tears in my throat. Because I can feel it everywhere in my body - the pain. In my eyes, my stomach, my hands, and my chest. The sight of Harry’s lips touching that of another girl’s sends knives into my heart, and my stomach roiling. “T-this can’t . . . ,” but my words escape me, because the multitudes of feelings punished with anguish and despair course through me. 

“Skye!” I yell again, not realizing that I’ve gotten to my feet. I stumble at first, feeling the weakness reach my legs. Her name leaves my lips wet with tears as I run past the kitchen and down the hall. 

Pushing open her door, darkness meets my eyes, and I swear in that moment it swallowed me. Hitting me, I grab the doorframe and feel my forehead fall against it. Leaning there for support, the sobs roll through me, the very reason still clutched in my hand. 

“Whaaaaat?” she groans tiredly from her bed across the room. 

But I only reply with a sob of her name, hiccups havocking my chest. My hands claw at the wall, darkness coating my eyelids. 

“Ree?” Skye asks groggily, the click of her lamp following her words. “What happened? Are you alright?” she hurries, the pillowy patting of her covers being thrown back meeting my ears. 

Her arms wrapping around me are almost numbing, and do nothing. And feel like nothing. But when I feel my head meet her chest, the slowed-down world I lived in for those few seconds vanishes. 

“Skye, I-. . . ,” I attempt, once again falling up short as tears suffocate my voice, much like they’re making me feel. Shakily, I press my phone into her hand as I try to find safety in her arms. 

I wait and then am rewarded with her intake of breath followed by a sigh. “Holy fuck,” she whispers, and retaliates by pulling me closer against her. “Come here, Ree.”

She walks me over to her bed and helps me under the covers until I’m surrounded by them, and her arms. 

“Who i-is she?” I demand sloppily, searching for something to hold onto and to anchor myself with. I’m compensated with the smooth fabric of her shirt that I cling to the back of, my head falling into her hair. The mundane scent of strawberries wafting from her body tries to relax me, but to no avail. 

“Ree-,” she begins, but I don’t let her start, let alone finish. 

“I want to kn- I need to know,” I respond, sniffling against the warm expanse of her neck. There’s shuffling next to me before she sighs, and I sense the light of my phone. Tapping prods at my hearing as I try to form coherent thoughts. 

I’m met with images of him. Harry. His dark curls, the way his eyes crinkle when he laughs, and the high-pitched giggle that accompanied my tickling as well as his own. The intruding memories rack my body with shaking sobs, pressing my lips together as new tears gush over them. My belly contracts with each sob, and I don’t even register the cramping in my hands from holding on so tightly. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Skye hums warily from above, pulling my head into her neck, leaving her arm there to shield me from her words. Or the image that I can’t remove from my mind even if I tried. It’s burned there indefinitely now. 

His arms in a blue button-up surrounding her and his lips enveloping hers. A smile creasing his cheeks with happiness, and spreading to those of her dark cheeks. Her curvy body pressed against his, flowing ebony curls tickling her chocolate skin. 

“Tell me.”

“Okay,” Skye caves, the tips of her fingers running marathons along my back, in attempts to calm me down. But I don’t know if the tried and true will work this time, although it has for every other, even when my dad’s life was painted with the C-Word. “She’s a London based artist, does some sculpting and gallery work locally. According to her Instagram account, anyways.”

“I asked . . who is she?” I repeat, my voice wavering under the dominance of the tears. 

“Her name’s Bailee Taylor.”

“W-what does her page look . . . like?” I request, exhaustion blanketing me, and only adding another feeling to the rest. Blinking away the tears, I try to take in a deep breath, but my memories hit me with the safety I felt in his arms. Unwaveringly. 

“It looks like they’re . . dating,” Skye announces quietly, squeezing me around the middle. The confirmation I didn’t know I’d been searching for hits me like a train, knocking the air out of me again. And all of a sudden, hatred pulses through me, asking me where to lay it. Where to feel it. “There’s a few pictures of them on her feed, looks like they met maybe a few weeks ago.” 

“Why?” jumps from my lips finally, taking a nosedive to join a sea of unanswered questions. The word shakes the second it leapt from my tongue, and somehow it hurts more than all of the rest. “I h-hate him,” I cry, my nose smushing against her skin when I try to hold onto her tighter than I already am. 

“No, you don’t,” she coos, raking her fingers through my hair slowly, and carefully. 

“I know, b-but I wish I could,” I answer, the memories dancing through my head at hyper speed. Falling asleep in his arms, and waking up in them. The tickling fight. The almost kiss. The Scrabble game. Waking up to find him waiting there in the doorway. Him coming back even after the way I treated him. Finding him standing there at the front of the lecture hall. The reprieve of being in his arms again after so long spent away from them. And then, like a wall, my mind runs into the strings of unanswered texts. The canceled lunch dates. The both of us ignoring the other’s texts, but then at the end, it was him. It was him who was awkward during the last phone call. He hung up on me abruptly, and I heard somebody else was there. Was it her? It’s possible they would have already been together by then. He said he’d text me to set up lunch, and he never did. 

“It won’t make you feel better,” she murmurs, cupping my head with her palm. The sound of tears edging at her words only makes mine come harder, and the feeling in my gut grows louder. 

“Then what will?” I beg, wondering if I’ll ever forget the taste of the salty tears. A taste I thought I could forget just late last month when my dad was cured. News that I told him, and had been impatiently waiting to do all day. “I thought I was just feeling okay again, Skye.”

“I know, Ree, I’m so sorry,” she returns, placing her cheek against mine, the first tear peeking through in her voice. “I’m sorry.”

I unpeel myself from her anxiously, kicking away the blankets before my feet land on the floor. 

“Where are you going?” she almost demands, the sound of her following me far away. 

“I’m gonna be sick,” I confess, rushing down the hall before falling to my knees in front of the toilet. The Cheerios and milk from earlier make a reappearance, along with the string cheese, and mushy contents of my other meals. 

Running a cold cloth along my face, Skye kneels in front of me, her face painted in sadness.

“How can it hurt so much, Skye, when he wasn’t even mine?” I croak, focusing on the lone tile in our bathroom that doesn’t match the rest of the flooring. 

“I think you’re wrong, he was yours, Ree.”

“I was so close. I fucked up, again,” I weep, my lips collapsing with yet another sob. 

“Don’t say that, don’t,” she insists, tucking her hair behind her studded ear when it goes every which way with the shaking of her head. “You can’t blame yourself for this.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“It feels like it is. She’s so pretty . . Of course she is,” I remember aloud, breathing in quickly before the tears take hold of me once more. Closing my eyes, I reach out for her and let my head rest against her shoulder. 

“She really isn’t, Ree. A big pair of tits doesn’t make you pretty, and anyways, you’re far prettier. He could do much better, like you.”

“You’re just saying that,” I confess, trying to swallow, but my throat has tied itself into knots with the thoughts of him. And when that word falls out of bed inside of my head, I find that it can hurt worse. “I was his Becks, Skye, I thought it was right there. That it was gonna happen for us.”

“Oh, Ree,” she cries, sniffling against my hair when she pulls me against her. “I know, I’m so sorry . . so sorry.”

Nodding into her chest, it feels right as her necklace digs into my wet cheek. My jaw aches from clenching my teeth, and so does every other part of my body in some way. Somehow I let her bring me back to her bed, and hide me away in her arms. My head swims with questions, then fleeting hatred for him, and inconsolable longing the very next. I shed a tear for his smell, his contagious smile, that Scrabble game we’ll never finish, the churros I’ll never be able to eat again without him ruining them for me, the color of his eyes I could never forget, and the lost feeling of his lips I never got to kiss. The list miles long of things I never got to say to him, or do with him, or make him feel. Because now she does, and she isn’t me. 

“I-I thought . . that he felt the same way about me, and that somehow he knew that I loved him.” 

A whimper escapes Skye’s lips as my tears fall into her neck, adding to the puddle I’ve shed there. 

“What does she have that I don’t? Am I not interesting? Does she have a nicer body than I do? Am I not pretty enough? Was I not nice enough or appreciative of him?” I weep, the questions flowing off my lips from the recesses of my mind. My name greets my ears firmly, but I ignore it. “I was trying to answer his texts when I could, but things got so busy with uni and my dad. All the driving, the tests in both places, and I couldn’t keep dates right in my head. Maybe if I’d texted him back sooner that one time, or made the lunch date on the right day the first time-.”

“Becky, don’t do the ‘ifs’ thing,” Skye urges, pulling the covers further up our shoulders before returning to combing my hair back again and again. 

“But I can’t stop thinking about what went wrong, a-and how much I miss him, Skye. I miss him a hundred times more after seeing that picture,” I reveal, falling into her, my lips meeting her shoulder. My teeth dig into my skin and I let them, numb to the pain as the same word is too busy with my mind. “I don’t know if I ever wanna see him again.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“But I do want to, I’ll always want to. Like something inside of me will always want him.” 

+

The sunlight streaming in through the windows is the first thing I see when I awake. Ducking my head back under the covers, I pull them over me with a groan. The blissful ignorance of the first few minutes after waking up follows me, until it all comes crashing back. 

“Are you awake?” a voice murmurs, sleep clinging to it. 

“Unfortunately,” I whisper, staring into the muted light underneath the gray covers. 

“I can stay home if you want me to, I was just making some breakfast,” Skye responds, the tapping of her feet along the floor following. 

“No, don’t cancel your hair appointments because of me. I’ll be . . I’ll be fine,” I tell her, but then the tears greet me good morning. 

“Oh, Ree, I’ll cancel and we can watch movies all day, or FRIENDS. Whatever you want,” she announces. The bed falls to one side when she sits on the edge, and I feel her hand find my back. 

“Thanks, I was hoping you’d say that,” I return, turning around and sitting up to dive into her arms. “I was hoping I had dreamt it all and it was just a bad dream. But my life is the bad dream.”

“Oh, Ree,” she coos, surrounding me with her arms. “I know this is cliche and it doesn’t feel like it, but it’ll get better.”

“I don’t know about that. My life is a running joke lately because it feels like it’ll get better, and then it just gets worse.”

+

“Your birthday is coming up, isn’t it, Becky?” somebody asks. Looking up from my cupcake, I find the face of Sophie. 

“Yeah, end of next week,” I answer, picking an orange sprinkle from the white frosting to eat.

“Do you have any big plans?” my boss asks as she places her lunch in the microwave. 

“My brother and I hang out every year, we’re twins.”

“Oh, how fun! I remember meeting him once when he brought you lunch one day,” she smiles, turning to face me as she waits in front of the humming microwave. 

I just nod and dip my finger into the frosting, feeling it melt on my tongue a second later. 

“Everything alright, love?”

“Yep, just tired is all,” I fib, taking a bite of the carrot cupcake, although I’m not wrong when I think about it. Skye has been a lifesaver for the last two weeks helping me get back on my feet. Thinking back on it and all of the tears leaves a funny taste in my mouth, but I try to brush it away with a forced smile. 

“How old will you be this year, Becky?” Sophie asks, pulling out a rolling chair to sit to my right at the long table. 

“Good old 26.”

“Wow, still a spring chicken, I’d say,” she comments, bringing a quirky smile to my lips. I almost follow her laugh with mine. “Well you know what, an early birthday present from me is you can have the rest of the day off. You always do a great job, Becky, and so you deserve it.”

“Sophie, I-,” I begin, my jaw falling to the floor. 

“I mean it, go. Get out of here. Go do something that makes you happy, love, it looks like you need to,” she smiles, squeezing my arm from across the table. Standing to my feet, profuse ‘thank yous’ leave my lips before I leave the break room. 

I drive around with my windows down, unsure of where to go instead of home. Before I know it, I find myself walking into my favorite little coffee shop. I’ve always loved to hang out here with a cup, reading a book, doing homework, or just relaxing on one of their sofas. 

Soon, I sit down with a Cubano sandwich and an iced cinnamon roll coffee, my very favorite. Pulling a book out of my work bag, I crack it open to the first page, unable to remember when I last had the time to read a book for fun. The words of Ruth Ware stare back at me, slowly drawing me into a made-up world, and away from the desolate one trying to swallow me. 

Quickly, I’m grateful for the respite from the thoughts mucking up my mind. Instead I lose myself in the sentences that spin a scary story, thanking my old self for stashing something besides a romance in my bag. That’s the last thing I could even think about indulging in right now. For some reason, the mystery entices me, a genre I’ve always had a love for. I think, especially now, it’s the aspect of being able to solve a mystery, and to fix a problem. If only I could do that now, I wish silently with a spiteful snort. 

Placing my empty plate on the return area by the cash register, I return to my cozy spot on the couch and to my book. Losing my fingers in my hair, I prop my head up and open the book to where I had left off. Soft indie music trickles from the speakers as conversations float around me. Several more sofas are dotted around the large room and booths, as well as tables varying in sizes. Friends play board games borrowed from the shelf by the fireplace, and others do schoolwork or actual work. A laugh from behind the counter echos through the room, right as the bell on the front door jingles. Although across the room, I can hear the voices floating in from the sidewalk. Cars honking and birds chirping. The sounds make me itch to leave the air-conditioned room, and bring my reading outside into the June sunshine. 

The words covering the pages root me to the spot, but they can’t protect me from what I hear. It’s a voice that I know inside and out, from the shortened words to the often used words. My vocal cords soon begin to tangle into knots in my throat at the mere noise. Beneath my baby blue blouse, there’s a clobbering in my chest as the voice grows near and then stops. Instinctively, hair falls through my fingers as I lower my head, wishing to remain unseen. Unknown. 

I can’t stop myself, and there I am looking up to see that crinkly-eyed smile through wrenching tears. 

Harry. 

[rogueariadne]

To Have A Villain’s Quirk

FIVE: SHORT AND SWEET

The day before seemed to spark a fire, a rather large fire, in Kaida's heart. She made a new friend, attempted to save him and the school bully, and made up with her mom. She even had used her quirk in public without too much fear. She felt like she could do anything, so when the next day rolled around, Kaida felt more alive than ever.  She grinned as she got herself ready for school, looking forward to the days ahead. She needed to work as hard as she could to pass her classes, and needed to train harder to be able to pass the entrance exams for UA. She was going to be ready for it. Sure, there were about ten months before it, but Kaida planned on finding out if Midoriya wanted to study with her, or even train. Music blasted in the young girl's ears as she practically bounced to school, filled with a new reason to be happy. It seemed like everything was finally going right. But it wasn't long after the train ride, a rough hand stopped her as she entered the courtyard. Kaida flinched in response, jerking herself away as she pulled the earphone from her ear and looked at the suspect. She blinked in confusion at the lone blond who stood before her.

    "B-Bakugo..?" Violet eyes glanced to the sides, looking for the lackey's he usually had with him but, luckily, didn't see them.

    "Look, Red. Don't go getting a big head just 'cause you think you helped yesterday. You didn't. You and Deku didn't do shit. Just 'cause you happen to have a quirk, you're still the same weakling you've always been. S'not like you use it enough to be good anyways. So, get this through your head. You're nothing." He spoke through clenched teeth, staring down his nose at her. Yeah, it intimidated her, and she felt like she was an inch compared to him. Eyes cast down, she nodded as he started turning around.

    "I...I know that.. Trust me." It was soft, but didn't go unheard. Looked like her happiness wasn't turning around. There was always going to be something to bring her down. Keeping her eyes down, she quickly moved past him and into the building. Normally, the gossiping, and the names didn't bother her, but maybe it was because no one ever said it to her face. So, with Bakugo straight up telling her just how worthless she was made her want to cry and just go home. Why did he have to be such a jerk? She sniffled as she walked through the halls, lip trembling as she bit back the tears that threatened to spill. It just wasn't fair. She never did anything to him to warrant being treated like that, so why? Just because it made him feel better about himself?

    "Hiyama!" She jumped at her name being shouted down the hall, her quickly looking up at the green haired boy who waved at her. He had a welcoming smile on his face, patiently waiting for his friend to join him to walk with him the rest of the way to class. She pushed her negative feelings aside and forced a small smile on her face, walking up to the boy.

    "Midoriya, how are you?"

    "Ah, I'm alright. Still kinda shaken up about yesterday, to be honest. What about you?"

    "I'm.. okay. Um.." She cut herself off, Midoriya looking at her curiously as they wove their way through everyone.

    "Hm?" Kaida glanced at him before looking at their surroundings, making sure a certain blond boy wasn't around them.

    "D-did Bakugo yell at you for trying to help?" The boy blinked before letting out a dry laugh.

    "Hah, yeah. But that's just Kacchan..He's just.."

    "Prideful."

    "..Yeah. Yeah, that's one way to put it."

    Silence fell between them as they continued walking, Bakugo's talks with them bringing them back down. As they entered the classroom and took their seats, Kaida remembered what she thought of this morning. "Oh! I almost forgot. I wanted to ask you, since we both need to try really hard for the finals and the entrance exams, w-would you like to study together? Or train together? I wouldn't mind helping out. I need to get better, too. But if you don't want to, it's okay.." She stopped herself before she could ramble too much. Izuku tilted his head at her as she spoke, sitting sideways in his seat to look at her better.

    "Ah! Really? Th-that'd be great! Oh! I actually have someone training me though, um, we could still study though. I know I'm gonna need all the help I can get."

    "You and me both!" They both laughed as the bell rang, nodding to each other as they both turned to the board. Out of the corner of her eye, Kaida could see the human bomb himself watching the two of them. This was going to be a long ten months.

                                                                     *

    So, the next ten months began, and between school and her own training, she was also studying with Midoriya. She also made sure she had put in for her quirk change, letting them know the extent of her powers as they asked their many questions. Kaida often saw Midoriya dozing in class but doing his best to stay awake. She often kicked his chair to snap him out of his thoughts when she thought he was getting too out of it, he'd usually turn around with a thankful smile before focusing again. She could tell how hard he was working, which made her want to work harder. So, after studying with him, she began training harder and longer everyday, often losing sleep to do her own workouts. She was beginning to eat and require more flesh, which her mother began noticing, occasionally scolding the girl when she was outside for too long, or working herself too hard. The months were grueling as she pushed herself, her and Midoriya still only seeing each other at school, though they had exchanged numbers a few days after the sludge incident. They didn't talk much unless it was about studying or the workout regimes they had, and if the other had any pointers. They had their normal conversations, and Kaida wondered if she would ever tell him about her quirk and what it really does. Of course, they were too busy to really worry about any other stuff. They hadn't heard much from Bakugo over the months, either. Which didn't surprise her. He was probably busy, too. But after the sludge incident, it almost seemed like he was threatened by them. She was probably wrong, but she couldn't help but wonder.

    Of course, Kaida noticed that the poor boy was slowly getting sick, and she did her best to scold him to slow down. He only waved it off with a weak smile. But over the next few days, he was slowly but surely getting better, which made them both happy. Their studying was definitely helping them in class, and they both could see the physical difference in the other with just how hard they've been working. Midoriya might've been doing this so he could become the hero he's always wanted to be, but Kaida was doing this for herself. To prove a point. To be a hero. They were going to make it.

                                                                     *

February 26th - Morning of the UA Entrance Exam

    The person in the mirror didn't look like the same girl ten months ago. She looked older, brighter.. stronger. She had gained several pounds too, getting herself up to the desired weight she had been aiming for. Kaida was slowly becoming the person she wanted to be. She had her rinkaku under control, her hunger under control. She was in control. Closing her eyes, she let out a slow but shaky breath. Finally, she proceeded to get dressed, throwing on an extra coat as she stuffed gym clothes into her bag. She needed to hurry and meet Izuku at the train station, or they were going to be late. The young Hiyama stumbled down the stairs, trying to push down the feelings of nervousness as she fixed her uniform. Her mother looked up from her breakfast with a gentle smile.

    "Oh, Kai! Are you off? There's coffee ready if you wanted some." Kaida nodded, quickly getting herself a thermos full of the black liquid. She glanced at her mom before quickly stealing a few of the left over pieces of food she could eat, putting them into a small lunch bag to eat before the exams. She needed to have all of her energy. Plus, for some after.

    "Thanks, mom! I gotta go!" She started out the door before pausing, doubling back. "Oh! I'm catching up with Izuku after school, so I'll be home an hour late or so!" She didn't wait for her moms answer as she darted out the door. Pedestrians quickly sidestepped out of the young girls way, her apologizing as she passed them by. Her heart raced in her chest at the thought of the exam just being an hour away. It was so exciting! She came up on the station, weaving her way around the people waiting for the next train, spotting the messy green mop just a few feet away. "Izu~!" Over the last few months, they had come to first name bases, finally getting out of the formal stage. Of course, Midoriya still had trouble every now and again, but she didn't mind.

    "Kai! You made it!" The boy snapped to attention, looking worn out but excitable for what was yet to come.

    "You know I wouldn't miss it for the world. We're in this together, remember?" Kaida held out her hand, face up with a big grin forming. He grinned back, just as big, and gently slapped her hand. Their conversation took off on what they needed to expect from the tests, already trying to find out what it was going to be like and going over every single possibility they could think of. They boarded the train with hope in their eyes, taking the ride to talk about other things to help calm their nerves.

                                                                       *

    "Made it just in time!" They panted out, coming to a stop from the sprint they had from the train station. They were so sure they were going to be late. As Midoriya walked on, Kaida was too busy looking around the area, falling just behind him as they walked. She heard him mumble something but she had learned just to ignore it.

    "Stupid Deku." They both stopped at gravelly voice behind them, Kaida noticing how he didn't even address her. He was probably more pissed about Izuku trying than her. "Get out of my way, now, before I set you both on fire." There it was. Midoriya yelped, jumping back as he stuttered out a quick greeting. Over the months, she had been trying her best to be nice to Bakugo, but with how much Izuku was always calling him Kacchan, she had let her own version slip a few times. It was just the basic name shortening but..

    "Good morning, Katsu."

    "Don't call me that." It was the same response every time. It was all he said as he walked on without them, Kaida frowning a little bit. Both Bakugo and Midoriya had come to realize that the more the girl opened up, the more they realized she just wanted to have friends, and make them happy. Obviously, Midoriya was more than happy to oblige. Bakugo, on the other hand, did his best to just ignore the girl. Even when she attempted to lighten the mood when they'd pass each other in the halls. She had a lot of demons, but she wasn't going to let them bring her down. Not when she's gotten this far.

    As she was lost in her own thought, she hadn't noticed Midoriya starting to walk, not until she hard his normal scream of shock. She snapped her attention to her friend, who was joined by another girl. "Izu, are you okay?"

    "Ah, I stopped you with my quirk. I'm sorry I didn't ask first. But... I figured you wouldn't mind me catching you." The brown haired girl smiled at him, before turning to Kaida. "Hah, sorry, isn't this all, like, way nerve-racking?"

    "Yeah, and thanks for catching him, he's hopeless when he's lost in thought." Kaida teased, making the girl laugh while Midoriya let out an embarrassed noise in response. His poor facce was turning pink.

    "No, problem! Well, guess I'll see you guys inside! Bye!" The girl walked away as she let Midoriya take in what just happened. She had come to accept that Midoriya didn't see her much as a female, but as someone who was his friend that happened to be a girl. As odd as that sounded. She knew that because of their previous encounters, it was easier for them to talk to each other when they became better friends, and now that they were best friends, almost like siblings, it all came so natural to him. But with a new girl suddenly talking to him, he didn't know what to do. It just made Kaida laugh as she pulled him into the auditorium.

                                                                       *

    She, Midoriya, and Bakugo all sat together during the explanation by Present Mic, her looking over her card to see she was in Battle Center C. She wouldn't be able to make sure Izuku was okay, damn. She hardly tuned into the explanation, but still caught what was going on. She glared at the boy who called out her friend but otherwise didn't say much, resting a reassuring hand on the boy's shoulder. The rest of the commentary for what was to come was short and sweet, and soon, they were all sent to change and carted off to their battle centers.

[loserholland]

𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

𝟎𝟎𝟒 ➺ 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲

Pairing ➺ Teacher!Tom Holland x Single mom!Reader

Warning ➺  Bold text is the reader’s thoughts, flashbacks, fluff, someone new

Word Count ➺  2,783

Summary ➺  What happens when your five year old tries to set you up with her kindergarten teacher?

A/N ➺ Hey babes! Fun fact about little cupid (that no one may care about) but! Little cupid was originally supposed to be a one-shot, I had it sitting in my drafts for a year and finally inspiration struck and now it’s a mini series! I’m aiming for about ten parts or so.

✿ 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓷𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓣𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ✿ - @loveyathreethousand @taronxfiction @killerqueen-gunpowdergelatine @spideyyypeter @lou-la-lou @babebenhardy @rivervixenbaby @acklesholland @zabdisamor @keepingupwiththehollands @sweet666pea @sspider-parker @jackiehollanderr  @caro0512 @thewinchesterchronicles @cporter003 @kisses-holland @spideysnugget @cryszus @sunflowerharrystyles @peterunderoos

@iloveyou3000morgan @random-things-i-love

*The strike through your name just means I couldn’t tag you, please message me if anything*

❤ 𝐋𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ❤ @luvborhap @asianravenpuff @agusdoti @meg-holland @silverreading @agirlwithpointlessideas @bonita-juanita

☞  Masterlist  ☜

When your five and a half year old daughter tell’s you “Spare me no details.” should you be concerned or should you be proud of quite the use of vocabulary. 

“Spare you no what?” (Y/N) questioned moved around the kitchen fixing Audrey some breakfast, her parent’s had just dropped her off about ten minutes ago saying Audrey requested to eat breakfast with her mom.

“Details! Did you have a magical kiss under the fireworks?” Audrey sat on the edge of the island swinging her feet back and forth. She doesn’t hold back on questions huh? Audrey does this, thing. It’s like an interrogation, she’ll ask you a question and when you give her answer she’ll have a question for your answer.

“Bub, I don’t kiss and te-” 

The doorbell echoed Audrey looked over at the little monitor that rest in the corner of the kitchen showing camera’s around the house. Her eyes widened in joy reaching for her mother to help her off, “If you won’t tell me I’ll ask Mr.Holland.” (Y/N) looked over at the monitor to see Tom. 

“Audrey Brooklyn!” 

That would be the first time in a long while that’s she’s addressed Audrey by her first and second name, rushing after her to see she had already opened the door.

Tom looked down to see the Audrey, Tessa began to sniff and lick her causing Audrey to open the door even wider. (Y/N) smiled apologetically at Tom, “Sorry, she’s just being well Audrey. Come in.” Audrey walked away with Tessa to the living room, Tom shut the door behind him and followed (Y/N) to the kitchen.

“You forgot your wallet last night.”

The entire car ride back they’d had been talking about anything and everything, they had stopped by Taco bell for some late night cravings and (Y/N) had covered the meal. She must have forgotten to place it back in her bag.

“One of your craziest college memories.” 

Tom reached for his drink take a long sip to wash down the soft taco he was eating attempting to remember his college days. 

“My best mate Harrison and I made a bet, who ever scored the lowest on our psychology exam would have to streak.” 

(Y/N) stared blankly at Tom, this had got to be a joke. He did not streak, he did not let almost the entire school see his, well you know. Little Tom. She blinked at Tom a few times before bursting into a loud laughter, “No way. I- No!” Tom shrugged taking another bite of his taco.

“I could show you the video if you want.”

Now that’s solid evidence right there, but as of right now she wasn’t so curious about little Tom.

“No, no I believe you.”

(Y/N) took the wallet back giving Tom a warm smile, “Thank you. I must’ve forgotten to put it back in my bag, so sorry you came all this way.” Audrey waltzed into the kitchen with her head held high and Tessa walking beside her.

She walked up to Tom tugging at the hem of his shirt, (Y/N) watched her daughter’s actions carefully. She knew she was about to ask him something she knew she would have to say yes to. Sometimes she thinks Audrey is actually a twenty-five year old in a five year old’s body.

“Would you like to stay for breakfast Mr.Holland? Mom makes the best pancakes.”

Now here that sat eating breakfast, it gave (Y/N) this warm feeling. I guess this is what a family breakfast look’s like on a Saturday morning. Light chattered filled the air, stolen glances and hidden blushes. 

“Mr.Holland?” 

“Yes Audrey?”

Audrey looked between her mom and her teacher, she had two question’s for him. But she didn’t want to bombard him too quickly so she started off with a small question. 

“I turn six next Saturday and I’m having a birthday party here, would you like to come?” She swung her legs back and forth pouting lightly in hops that he’d say yes.

“I’d love to come thank you for the invite Audrey.”

She smiled with glee standing on her chair fist pumping the air, now to ask the question her mother was avoiding to answer for her. (Y/N) could see it in her eyes, she was about to ask her what she had asked about thirty minutes ago. 

“Did you and my mommy kiss?”

Tom choked on his coffee, his hand flew to his chest slapping it lightly as a rough cough passed his lips. (Y/N) glared at her daughter who stood there unfazed awaiting an answer. 

“W-what?” Tom chuckled awkwardly looking at (Y/N) with wide eyes then back at Audrey.

“Did you and my mommy kiss?”

(Y/N) sighed rubbing her temples lightly before mumbling “Yes.” a loud shriek filled the kitchen causing Tessa to stand from where she was resting, Audrey hopped off her chair and began to run around the kitchen.

“I’m a genius!” she shouted leaving Tom and (Y/N) to stare at each other blankly. 

What in the world is happening right now? 

Audrey was dancing with happiness running through her veins, maybe she had found her mom her lobster. 

“You found your lobster!”

Yup, she was spending too much time with Vivian. Vivian was (Y/N) best friend since high school, and well time’s when her grandparent’s were busy she’d spend time with Vivian and Brandon. Brandon was one of Audrey’s father’s close friends, but when he found out what he had done they two stopped talking.

“You’re spending way too much time with Aunty Viv bubs.” 

Audrey stopped in her place shaking her head no, “Nope I think we spend just enough time together.” she was quick and witty with comments. Is she twenty-five or five? 

“Mr.Holland can I bring Tessa out to the backyard?”

Tom gave the five year old a warm smile nodding in approval watching Audrey and Tessa exit to the backyard. (Y/N) sighed collecting their empty plates moving them to the sink, “I’m so sorry about that Tom. Audrey can be... well Audrey.”

He shrugged lightly Audrey is full of surprises, it’s just her question took him by surprise. How and why would a five year old think or even know about kissing? Tom moved to stand beside her picking up the sponge applying some dish soap and taking the dishes she had rinsed off and scrubbed it lightly.

“Tom you do-”

“Let me help you, thank you for the pancakes. Audrey was right, she is full of wonders.” 

(Y/N) sighed her gaze fixed on her daughter who was sitting in the shade with Tessa, she is full of wonders. 

“You don’t have to apologize for Audrey. She’s sweet and means well.”

Audrey looked up waving at to see they were standing next to one another looking in her direction, she waved with a big toothy grin. She just wants her mother to be happy. She also couldn’t help but wonder if her father was also coming to her big sixth birthday. He had missed all her birthday’s, maybe he would come to this one. 

“Fuck.” (Y/N) mumbled staring at the three positive pregnancy sticks.

You’re fucked, you’re more than fucked, you’re dead!

Vivian knocked on (Y/N) bathroom door, the two were in their sophomore year of college. What’s great about going to an instate college or university, you have a dorm and home to go back to. As of the past three weeks (Y/N) had been spending more time at home than in her dorm, she had been feeling sick lately.

Fuck, I’m screwed.

(Y/N) leaned against the bathroom counter allowing herself to slide down until she reached the ground, she had missed her period last week but thought it was just because of all the stress and sickness. 

“(Y/N)” 

I’m scared.

Vivian sighed leaning against the bathroom door, “I’m gonna call Brandon to break through this door.” (Y/N) got up weakly unlocking the door and swinging it open, she instantly wrapped her arms around her best friend sobbing lightly. 

What will my parent’s think?

“(Y/N)?” Tom called bringing her back to reality, she didn’t even realize she had walked Tessa and Tom to the door. “Will the party be here or?” Oh god, she made him repeat himself a few times due to her head not being there.

“Oh! Audrey go grab an invitation for Mr.Holland. Her godparents Vivian and Brandon are the party planners.” 

Audrey grabbed one of the invitations grabbing a Pen to write Mr.Holland on the envelope, she scribbled it quickly then ran back to the front door handing it to him proudly “Here you go!” Tom gladly accepted the envelope smiling at her handwriting. 

“Thank you Miss.Audrey, I’ll see you on Monday. I hope to see you on Monday as well darling.”

The five year old raised her brow in confusion darwhat? She shrugged it off watching Tessa and Tom off. Once her mom closed the door she followed her to the living room standing on one of the couch cushions.

“Momma?” 

(Y/N) hummed in response moving from the kitchen to grab her coffee then back into the living room. 

“I-Is daddy coming? To my birthday party this year?”

She tensed lightly, it’s been a while since Audrey last asked about her father. I wonder if he know’s how old she’ll be this year. I wonder if he ever tried to reach out to her.

“I’m pregnant.”

Please, please Alex. Will you help me?

Alex stared at her blankly, blinking a few times before snorting lightly “Very funny (Y/N). Now what do we really have to talk about? I have a party to plan.” He watched her facial expression tense at every word that left his lips.

Are you fucking kidding me? I’m pregnant and you think it’s joke?

“This isn’t a joke Alex.” 

(Y/N) watched his jaw clench his palm came in contact with the table, causing those who were in the café to jump at the sudden noise. (Y/N) pushed herself back at the sudden action, worry ran through her veins. She watched him leave the café in such anger, a few people stared before going back to what they were doing. 

“Momma?”

She looked over at her daughter blinking a few times, she did it again didn’t she? How was she suppose to tell Audrey? ‘I’m sorry bubs, your father didn’t want me to keep you but I did anyway’ or ‘He’s never tried to contact us bub.’ What are you supposed to tell your five soon to be six year old daughter their dad wasn’t coming?

“I-I don’t know sweetheart.” 

Alex placed the envelope that held twenty-thousand dollars onto the table pushing it towards (Y/N), by this time they had both told their parents and (Y/N) were quite supportive. Along with Alex’s parents yet, he took it on himself to make it seem as if his parent’s didn’t support. 

“Get an abortion, and we can go our separate ways.”

Is he fucking joking? Get an abortion? 

She had wanted to do it before. But after hearing the heartbeat she just couldn’t go through with the abortion/

“I won’t accept your money. I just want you out of my face and life.”

And with that, he left in a heart beat. 

“It’s okay if he doesn’t come again momma. I have you, grandma and grandma, along with Aunty Viv and Uncle Bran. Now I also have Mr.Holland!” 

(Y/N) felt her heartstrings pull at every word that passed Audery’s lips. It kills her when it comes around this time of year, the look on her face in hopes that her father shows. 

There are times when she felt selfish for not letting Alex see her once or tell him what the gender was. She tries to make herself believe that she didn’t see any of him in her. But there were times when she’d stare at Audrey and see little glimpses of Alex.

Is it selfish of me to feel this way? 

Soon enough Audrey’s sassy sixth birthday party rolled around, Vivian decided to hold it at her and Brandon’s house. The theme was unicorns, Audrey picked out every decoration, to food, cake, and goodie bags. I guess you could say she was planning her own birthday party. 

Tom entered the house signing his name in the birthday guest book, there was a balloon arch once you walked into the house it was made to look like a rainbow in the clouds. He continued to walk into the house following the light chatter. 

“Tom!” (Y/N) called waving him down with a warm smile, he felt his heart flutter at how beautiful she looked today. She placed her wine onto the marble counter top giving him a small hug, “Thank you for coming. Audrey is somewh-”

Speaking of the six year old, she came bursting into the kitchen screaming “Mr.Holland!” he kneeled down to be the same height as Audrey hugging her tightly. 

“Happy birthday Miss.Audrey.” 

He pulled away lightly handing her his gift, instead of buying toys he bought her books and crayons to write and draw in. Audrey was never really the type to have barbie dolls, she was more into toys who helped you learn.

“Thank you for coming Mr.Holland!” she took her gift and happily skipped to place in her pile of gifts. 

(Y/N) lifted her wine glass “Stella Rosa?” Stella Rosa was one of her favorite wines, she preferred it over beer or any other liquor. Unless she went out clubbing then she wouldn’t get wine. 

"Artois.”

Oh the other Stella, he was a beer guy.

(Y/N) opened the fridge grabbing him a bottle sliding it across the counter top and into his hands, she didn’t think he’d catch it but prayed he would or else Vivian would kill her. 

"Thank you for coming.” (Y/N) whispered glancing up at Tom for a brief second before looking away. God this is what third graders would do, too shy to look up at their crush. 

Wait what? Did I just admit that I have a crush on Tom?

His hand brushed against her’s, the same warm spark ran through his veins tinting his cheeks red. He took another swing of his beer before responding, I should be thanking you for allowing Audrey to invite me darling.” 

There it was again, Darling. God the way he says it with ease. 

Before (Y/N) could answer her mother entered the kitchen.

“Mr.Holland?” Mrs.(Y/L/N) questioned moving around to give him a hug “How are you? It’s been a while since I’ve picked Audrey up.” Ever since the family fun fair, (Y/N) was the one to pick Audrey up. 

“I’m well Mrs.(Y/L/N) how are you?” 

(Y/N) left Tom and her mother to talk in search for Vivian. She had something, well someone  to take care of, but didn’t say who. Instead she scurried upstair dragging Brandon with her. 

She turned the corner to see Vivian standing in the door way talking to someone outside, “Viv?” (Y/N) questioned walking closer to see who she was talking to. 

“Viv.” she repeated tapping on her shoulder lightly.

Her best friend gasped loudly jumping at the sudden touch. She turned on her heels to see (Y/N) her eyes widened in horror. Vivian turned her gaze to Brandon to see he was still trying to convince the last person on earth she’d want to see to leave.

“(Y/N)!” 

Brandon turned to see (Y/N) standing in the doorway, the way her face just dropped along with the glass of wine she had in her hand. It looked as if she saw a ghost, she stood there in shock. Unable to say a word.

Tom had excused himself when he heard someone shouting (Y/N) name, he could see the pieces of glass near the front of her heels. Making his way over to her allowing her to step back from the glass, “Darling, what’s wrong?” he questioned searching her eyes to see tears blurring her vision. 

(Y/N) looked at Tom then at the person she never wanted to see again. This has to be a dream, of all times he could choose to waltz back into her life why today? Of all days today?

“Momma! Let’s go eat!” Audrey whined marching over to the adults, she stood beside her mom tugging at her dress lightly. Vivian scooped Audrey into her arms. 

She tilted her head in confusion staring at the man who was being held back by her uncle Brandon.

“Aunty Viv, who’s that?” Audrey spoke causing the Stranger to smile pushing pass Brandon to stand a few feet away from the entrance.

“Hey Audrey, I’m Alex.”

Don’t you dare say it, you have no right to say it.

“I’m your dad.”

[slaxl-rose]

Torn (roger taylor fic) part one

a/n - heyy guys!! so this is the first chapter, i really hope you enjoy the story, please let me know what you think in the comments or messages! <3

this story was written and uploaded to my wattpad! my account is          @ uniqorned if you would like to check it out :) i also post other queen works too. 

summary: you hook up with your roommate one night and struggle to keep your feelings for him a secret.

You look at your reflection in the mirror as your putting your second earring in

"darlingggg, hurry up!" freddie demands from downstairs. You groan but try to pick up your pace. "one minute!" you shout back just as loudly. You were late to Uni and Freddie had kindly offered to take you as your car had carked it last weekend. But right now was important that you'd be there on time. You had a biology exam that you had not studied for because you were out partying all weekend with your friends. Finally, putting your last boot on, you grab your bag and head downstairs to where Freddie was waiting for you... except he wasn't?

"roger?" you question once you see him standing with his keys in his hands, leaning against the wall. Roger was your roommate and Freddie was your other one "wheres fred?"

he pushes himself off the wall "got tired of waiting for you, left, and that's why i'm going to drive you now"

"oh alright" you smile and open the door with Roger following close behind. You both make your way over to his van. It was old and rustic with the paint chipping off the sides. None of us had the money to buy a new car though.

The car ride was silent. Not an uncomfortable silence though. Peaceful. Although it wasn't much peaceful to you, your nerves made you extremely anxious for the exam you were positive you were going to fail. Your breathing became heavier and roger seemed to notice this.

"you alright, love?" you look over to him to see him glancing over at you before his eyes focus back on the road

"uh-yeah, nervous is all"

"you'll do fine" he smiles. You let out an unsure groan "dunno about that" you look over to him again "i didn't study at all"

"why not?"

"i was too busy"

roger gives you a smirk "too busy getting laid" you smack his arm and sink in your chair. It was true, that's how most of your weekends went, you'd go to the pub, get drunk and get laid.

"you can talk" you scoff sarcastically. Soon you reached your destination and it was time for you to head inside. You hop out of the car but not before turning to roger. "thank you rog" you smile gratefully

"no worries, love. Good luck" you thank him once again and make your way into the exam room.

~ 3 hours later ~

it was almost obvious that you had failed. You didn't even need to look at your results yet. You knew you had done terribly. You made your way through the front gates when your phone started to ring and freddies number popped up

"hey fred" you answer "hello dear, i'm truly sorry i couldn't drop you off this morning but you were just taking forever and i had to go meet my friend"

"yeah sorry about that"

"no worries darling! i'm calling to tell you, there'll be a party at our place tonight" you could hear the excitement in his voice

"party? fred we don't even have friends"

"don't be ridiculous darling of course we do, now hurry home before everyone arrives!" before you could even respond, the line went dead

sighing, you continue to walk home. You definitely did not feel like partying tonight. You just wanted to sit on your bed and watch Netflix but nope, freddie always found a way to ruin your 'boring' plans, as he liked to call it.

you finally arrive home after a 35 minute walk from uni. You just stopped at the local dairy on your way. You make your way to the door but stop in your tracks as you hear loud music blasting from the inside.

oh no please, i am not in the mood

you slowly walk up to the door and open it to see your small flat filled with strangers. what the fu-

"darlinggggg!!!" before you can even comprehend what's happening your pulled into a tight embrace

"what took you sooo long my dear!" freddie calls, slurring his words. You could smell the alcohol in his breath

"shit fred, how much have you had?"

"don't w-worry about that darlinggg, go change and come back d-down!"

you sigh and make your way through the crowds of people and upstairs to your bedroom. where the hell did he even find these people? you open your bedroom door to see a couple making out on your bed, you jump back suprised

"wha- get out!!" you shout, trying to talk over the loud noise from downstairs. They scramble to make their way out of your room. The girl picking up her shirt on the way that had been discarded. You lay on your bed and sigh. I suppose i need a drink after the shit day I've had. you think to yourself. You make you way over to your wardrobe and brush your hand over the different types of shirts. blue? black? red?...white! you pull out your white crop top and some black jeans to go with. You then head over to your chest of drawers where all your nice underwear sets are. Y'know just in case. You pull out a nice black lace set and throw it all on.

you make your way downstairs where the music is still blasting at top volume and walk through the crowd once again to the kitchen to fetch yourself a drink. You spot a opened whiskey bottle on the bench and quickly snatch it before anyone else could. leaning back against the counter as you take a sip, you look around at the people here. You really didn't have a clue who any of these people were and you were sure fred didn't even know half of them.

Then you soon wonder, wheres roger? maybe hes out somewhere and didn't wanna come, or hes probably hooking up with some blonde in his bedroom. Yeah probably doing that. You shake the thoughts out of your head as you see a tall brunette walking towards you, a smirk on his face as you stare at him. Hes not bad you think. "you here alone?" his smirk doesn't leave his face

"well y'know i do live here" you smile up at him. He makes a small humming noise. "i'm Leo" he holds his hand out for you to shake. you take it "y/n"

"well y/n would you like to dance with me?"

"nah, i can't dance"

"i'll show you" before i knew what was happening i was being dragged into the middle of the crowd. "i really don't-" i got cut off by his hands going on my waist, mine around his neck

as the night went on i found myself getting more and more drunk. I didn't see anyone i knew except Mary, freddies good friend. I decided to let myself cool down a bit so i took out a cigarette and stumbled over to the front porch. Almost slipping over as i sit down on the step. almost.

"c-cold out here innit" i turn around at a familiar voice

"rog? i haven't seeeen youu all night" i stumble over my words. He goes to take a seat beside me when he slips and falls to the ground. I guess i'm not the only drunk one here tonight. We both laugh hysterically until he moves so hes beside me

"you're drunkk" i slur. He smiles at me sheepishly and then glances down at my lips. I gulp and do the same.

He inches closer to me but i can tell hes too afraid to close the gap. So i do it for him.

His lips soft against mine.

a/n- sorry for this poorly written chapter :( i accidentally switched from second person into first person narrative near the end, oops. most likely going to keep it first person but pls let me know if i should make it a dual person narrative between rog and y/n