#but until then everything is a major fucking struggle to even eat every day :^)

[aller-geez]

Vent in the tags, just keep scrolling~

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM LIFE IS STRANGE, SEASON 1 *  assorted dialogue, suggested by ismelodrama, adjust as necessary

everything is a picture waiting for be taken.

you're just jealous of me because i actually do the things you can't.

are you hiding something?

i'm sick of your disrespect. tell me the truth!

i don't want to fight with you anymore. i don't want to fight with anyone anymore.

i was eating those beans!

how the hell did you know about that photo?

always take the shot. my number one rule of photography.

you just don't listen, do you?

there's something weird going on with you.

you've only been here for three weeks and you're already causing conflict.

after this week, you are certainly not a little kid anymore.

not now. i'm contemplating shit.

are you fucking kidding me? this is major bullshit!

i didn't have all the evidence at the time.

we all make decisions we regret.

i'm not gonna make any excuses for my behavior.

i'd put stephen hawking against picasso any day.

it sucks to be dragged into the spotlight.

nobody believes me anyway.

you're exactly the kind of soldier i'd want by my side in a war.

why the hell not?

i almost asked you to hang out.

you should have asked me.

maybe we're too much alike.

i don't believe anything you say. you're full of shit.

eat a dick, [name].

i'll be in the tardis getting my delorean ready.

since you're the mysterious superhero... i'll be your faithful chauffeur and companion.

you don't know who the fuck i am or who you're messing around with.

where'd you get that? what are you doing? come on, put that thing down!

don't ever tell me what to do! i'm so sick of people trying to control me!

so you can't help me?

i told you before that i'll always believe you.

i may be a pest but... i'm a good listener.

you're the bravest person i've ever known.

for every action, there's a reaction.

i'm trying. but you have to understand my position.

i know i can be a pain in the ass... and you've always treated me like a person, not a beta nerd.

why do you want all your friends to die?

oh i see. i'm not important to you anymore.

nobody lectures me. everybody tries though.

do not analyze me! i pay people for that.

hey, that's total slander!

you don't know shit about my father, or me.

you're all fucked!

everybody hates me.

[name]... it's me. i just wanted to say i'm sorry.

i truly am sorry for being such a bastard.

you would have been cool to hang out with.

you might as well choose me.

i'm not perfect, okay?

you have talent, [name].

you don't have to push people out of your way.

thanks for admitting again that i have some talent.

do you think it's, like, fate we're not supposed to be friends?

nobody says we have to be friends.

everybody lies. no exceptions.

i came for all of you.

i'm in a nightmare and i can't wake up.

no wonder they call it a "web." nothing can ever get out.

i wish i could go back in time and erase everything.

just tell me you do have the photograph.

now shut up and listen.

i'm not a real scientist.

i was just happy just being your friend.

[name], i'm so sorry you had to go through all that.

i don't think i can concentrate on going out to the movies.

everybody pretends to care until they don't.

even angels need angels, [name].

i might be naive, but i feel their struggle.

why did you stop me from jumping?

this shit pit has taken everyone i've ever loved.

when a door closes, a window opens... or something like that.

i keep going back in time.

how could there be a more important moment in history?

thank you for trusting me.

hey... be careful out there.

what kind of friend are you?

you never understood me, or what happened to me.

i'll always be alone, thanks to you.

just in case we don't get out of this...

i'm going to make the right choices from now on.

i've been feeling like this might be actually the end of the world.

i hate to say that i'm glad to see you, but i'm glad to see you.

i wish i could stay in this moment forever... but then it wouldn't be a moment.

if that tornado came right now, i would just sit here and watch for a while.

i just feel like escaping.

i have total faith that you'll do the right thing when the time comes.

with great power comes great bullshit.

am i pushing myself too hard?

you like to hurt people, huh?

i'm glad you decided to escort me.

i know this is a bad time, but can i get one picture?

of course i believe you. you're the most amazing person i've ever met, and i'm glad you trust me.

i don't have a fucking clue what's going on.

[look-at-the-soul]

Can’t love in the dark (Part 2)

Tommy Shelby x reader

Sequel to “All I ask”

Request: kind of 🤭 @l1-l4 Andy threw a fantastic idea one day and I saw it, and from that moment I’ve been thinking about it daily… until this idea worked perfectly with another request for my Adele challenge ♥️ Andy, you asked for an angsty story, here you go! I hope you and everyone else like it 🥰 that gif was amazing and summed Tommy’s anger.

Summary: (There’s a time jump between this and the first part) Tommy keeps watching over Y/N, sending flowers, even after getting married to someone else. Until one day he exploded after finding the truth that caused a terrible accident.

“Can’t love in the dark” is one of my favorite Adele songs, the sentiment she sings with every time she performs it on stage gives me chills 🥹

⚠️ Angst but with a little surprise at the end 🤭

Word count: 4,727 (without the lyrics)

Making the decision to let Tommy go was the hardest thing you ever had to do, but it was for the best, or at least you tried to convince yourself of that. Crying your heart out at night you tried to comfort yourself by thinking that his baby would be able to grow next to his father. Forcing yourself to push aside the feelings and expectations you started to develop towards Tommy and the future he had shared with you that’d be taking off right after the races.

He’d have another priorities from now on.

The following day you quit your part time job at the Shelby Company Ltd. and focused entirely on the shoes shop. Tommy tried absolutely everything in his power but all he got in response was a sad glance that broke his heart or you leaving him at the shop speaking to himself while you pretended to be busy in the back.

There was nothing to be angry or resentful towards him, he slept with Grace before meeting you after all… but deep down you wished it was you instead of her the one getting pregnant.

With a heavy heart you thought how you could only dream of what could’ve been.

You had been on the edge ever since, struggling to sleep, eating the bare minimum, you felt like a fragile thing that’d break at the slightest contact, trying to hide from your poor father the sadness that you carried around like a heavy weight on your shoulders.

Nothing seemed to be working out the way he had planned. Not after you made it very clear that the future he had envisioned of the two of you together wasn’t possible, he held the hopes still, thinking you’d accept the marriage proposal and he could be there for his son, but you quickly let him him know that was way too modern and looked extremely bad for you. He tried convincing you over and over, assuring that it would be just fine because it was you the one he wanted to get married to, not Grace.

There was nothing he could say would convince you otherwise.

But what really hit him was that one time when you on the edge of crying asked him to leave, you actually yelled at him frustrated because it was too damn painful to accept the fact that he didn’t belong to you, you accepted out loud that you were jealous of Grace for giving him something you wouldn’t.

As weeks went by, he got the news that Grace’s husband ended with his own life, he decided to not get involved in that matter but it was hard to stay away at the same time because she was pregnant with his baby. She was deeply affected by the way events turned out, constantly on the edge and his major concern was the wellbeing of his unborn child so he did everything he could to ensure it. One thing led to the other and he ended up getting married with Grace because it was the right thing to do.

So here he was, stuck in a marriage for the wrong reasons, thinking of another woman, dreaming of another woman that was slowly, little by little slipping away from him. It was impossible to focus on the fucking papers in front of him, work had been pilling up because he was always looking for a ridiculous excuse to see you, even from afar.

Polly stormed into her nephew’s office fuming after learning that he had blinders guarding Y/N when she took the train to the south to see a new vendor. Despite what happened, Polly still had a good relationship with her.

“It’s been over a year Thomas, you have to let her go, you got married to Grace, have a son now… Y/N needs to live her life, rebuild and start over.”

“What the fuck do you mean start over?” He squinted his eyes, blowing away the smoke of his cigarette.

“Oh! Please don’t play dumb with me, do you really expect her to remain single forever?”

The realization sinking in, it felt as if he got kicked in the gut. The long gulp of whiskey didn’t help.

“No… no, there can’t be another man in her life.”

“Are you even listening to what you say?! She deserves to be happy!”

“What do you know? Ey?!”

“There’s someone who’s interested in her but he can’t get close because of your bloody guards!” Polly exploded.

Jaw clenched at the thought of another man starting to court you. No, anything but that.

“I’ve to protect her.” Tommy leant on his desk with palms wide open. Head hanging low.

“You lost her and all for your stupid revenge towards the woman you’re married now!”

“I never thought she would get pregnant, trust me that wasn’t my intention.”

“But it’s too late now for that… just let the girl move on.” Turning on her heels she walked towards the door. “And be more discreet, the maids keep gossiping about how you are sleeping in the guest room.”

****

Hearing the bell, you called from the back of the room; “The store is closed now, I just forgot to change the sign” but you cut yourself after finding him at the other side of the counter.

“Y/N… please.”

Take your eyes off of me so I can leave

I'm far too ashamed to do it with you watching me

Defeated, you gave up, manners long forgotten. “How many times do I have to tell you that you’re not welcomed here anymore?”

Your attitude made him remember the first time he saw you and Tommy had to hide the smirk that was about to appear on his lips.

Please, stay where you are

Don't come any closer

“Just leave, Thomas, for good.” You pointed at the door. “Goodness, sometimes I wish you could keep your fucking promise and burn this fucking place down so I would’ve a reason to go away.” You admitted with anger, pacing the small shop.

Don't try to change my mind

I'm being cruel to be kind

“I could never do that to you.”

“That look doesn’t charm me anymore, your shoes are new, I bet all bloody Birmingham has new shoes so you really don’t have anything else to do here.”

“I want to help you.”

“Don’t.” You stated bluntly. “I don’t want your help or anything for the matter.”

“When I look around and see all I got, I should be pleased by the way things turned out. But I can’t… because I’m not sharing it with you.”

He was sincere and genuine, you knew that.

“Those were your dreams, not mine.” You added one more -an unnecessary- coat of product to clean the shoes, just to distract you from his gaze.

“Polly mentioned you need to move on. But I can’t let you go.” He was selfish without question, but those strong feelings for you didn’t go away even after marrying Grace.

“So I assume you’ll just go and use that razor blade in any potential man I lay my eyes on.”

“That’s not a bad idea, I’ll consider it thanks.” He added with a smile, loving the irritation in your eyes.

“What do you want Thomas?”

“You.”

It was one word but it included everything he really wanted.

“And what do you suggest then? You want me to be your mistress? That’s not going to happen.”

“Y/N…”

Emotions got the best of her, her eyes filled with tears. “I can’t love you in the dark.”

“Do you nee-”

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

Baby, we're already defeated

Shaking your head you gave him a warning look. “If you don’t leave right now, I’m going to start throwing shoes at your head for real.”

That was an image he would’ve loved to see, and deep down he knew you would do it without a doubt. So he decided to save himself the embarrassment and headed to the door, but before he even got to open the door, he turned to give you one more look.

Everything changed me

“Please just don’t kiss him the same way you kissed me… cause if you do, you’ll remember me.”

Your fist closed around the shoe you had been holding, way to expensive to throw it away, so instead you threw the brush you had been using. Letting out a groan in frustration.

Time didn’t make it any easier to forget him, all the opposite the feelings for him seemed to be stronger than ever, you wouldn’t stand between him and his son. You returned every single present and basket with fruits and flowers he sent over the last months right after reading every note he added to whatever the present was. His words were tattooed in your heart.

You have given me something that I can't live without

You mustn't underestimate that when you are in doubt

If only he didn’t see Grace back then, you’d be enjoying life together.

****

“You wanted to see me Tommy?” Scudboat poked his head from the door.

“Come in, close the door.” As he saw the blinder step in, he took a long swing of his whiskey, the liquid burning. “I need you to ask your wife to go to Y/N’s shoes shop.”

“Again?” Asked in shock Scudboat, he just went last week, but as Tommy gave him a dead stare, he hid his hands in his pockets.

“Yes, again, but ask her to go on Monday after eleven o’clock that’s after Y/N left for the market, and it will take her a while to go back to the shop and you’ll give her mother this money.” Tommy planned. He knew you’d go then to prepare lunch for your father and eat with him, then you’d take over the shoe shop while your mother returned home.

Tommy knew every single step you took, at what time you got the newspaper and each vendor you’d visit. Yet, you were so far away from him.

It was unfair for you, he knew that. He’d never ask you to be his mistress or anything, he just wished to find a fucking way to get you back. It was hard also for him to admit there was a time when he thought that maybe, just maybe over time he’d learn to love Grace like he used to years ago, but deep down he knew he’d never fully forgive her for betraying him. Let alone having a son together would make their marriage work.

But I don't want to carry on like everything is fine

The longer we ignore it, all the more that we will fight

“What happened Johnny?” Tommy cleared his throat getting anxious by the minute.

“Ehh you won’t like I-” Johnny muttered but he cut himself off when Grace stepped into the office.

“Tommy…” she looked over at Johnny several times, like trying to give him a hint to leave them. “It’s getting late.”

He found it extremely annoying to get interrupted, leaning back in his chair he flicked his cigarette. “I know.”

“Are you coming to say goodnight to Charlie?” She tried batting her eyelashes at him, the sweetest smile on her lips.

“Later, I’m working.”

“Bu-”One annoyed look and a loud sigh and Grace brought a hand to the end of her hair to disguise her disappointment. “Alright.”

Rolling his shoulders, Tommy looked at Johnny again. “So?”

“Tom I don’t like this, why can’t you just leave the poor girl alone? You’ve a family now, a boy.”

But Tommy kept shaking his head. “I’m paying you to watch her and report her moves to me, not asking if you like it or not.”

Polly knew him, his uncle Charlie was able to read him like the palm of his hand, but Johnny couldn’t understand the motives to keep tracking Y/N down.

“You broke up a year ago, got married… there’s no reason to-”

“Johnny, I’m not going to ask you again.” He dragged the words, if it wasn’t for the desk between them, he would’ve Johnny Dogs by the collar of his shirt now.

“Y/N is dating someone.” Johnny murmured, keeping his head down.

A heavy silence filled the Arrow House office.

Please, don't fall apart

I can't face your breaking heart

Tommy got up from his chair and walked quietly towards the window finding darkness only.

“Who is he?” He asked with more control than he expected.

Johnny made a face. “Don’t do this to yourself Tommy, let her move on.”

The man with icy eyes gave him a side look, it was enough to make him talk.

“He’s a Doctor, respectable, good background, treats her right, sends flowers every four or five days, walks with her to the park on Wednesdays and Fridays, on Saturday he goes in for dinner but leaves right after that. On Sundays she brings him food to the hospital and...”

“Apple pie?” Tommy completed while Johnny nodded.

Tommy knew the fucking recipe from start to finish, he could almost smell it and his mouth watered by the simple memory of how it tasted.

Did she give the doctor a small piece with her fork like she used to do with him?

Did she kiss the corner of his mouth after having a bite to remove the remains of sugar?

“That’s all Johnny, thank you.” He swallowed hard, memories making his chest ache.

Johnny wondered if he should also tell Tommy another thing he found out while following them.

Stopping right in front of the heavy door, Johnny twisted the peaky cap between his hands.

“He bought a ring two days ago Tommy.”

“Johnny,” His emotionless voice stopped him, “don’t follow her, you can go back to the gypsy camp.”

Once alone, Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, defeated he took the glass of whiskey upstairs.

Looking at his son sleeping in his crib he couldn’t help but wonder why he made the mistake of fucking Grace that one time, he swore he could contain himself and he’d only use her to drive Campbell mad. But no, he was weak and the only time they were together she got pregnant. This wasn’t supposed to be how he envisioned his life, he wanted to date you, then propose to you, get married and start a family… you had been there for him to pick up the broken pieces from the ground that Grace left. Somehow you managed to make him softer, showed him he could trust and love again.

It wasn’t a surprise when you took a step back, didn’t accept his apologies, didn’t want to hear his explanations, packing your belongings from his office the very same night of the races, and closed the doors to your heart.

He begged, was willing to get on his knees to ask for forgiveness but you wouldn’t listen. His first mistake was to sleep with Grace that night, the second, marry her because she was with a child.

Was he being selfish? How could he let you go when you got so deep inside his heart?

You were slipping away from him, little by little, if you officially started a relationship with someone else, that man won’t waste time after realizing how fucking awesome you were, and if that happened, there was nothing left he could do to get you back.

I can't love you in the dark

It feels like we're oceans apart

There is so much space between us

“Why don’t you come to bed, Tommy?” Grace circled his desk and slipped her arms around his neck from behind. “It’s late.”

“In a minute.” He replied pretending to look at the papers scattered over the oak desk.

“I think you sho-”

“I said in a fucking minute!” He lost it.

Grace made a little jump when he raised his voice. “I heard what you said, I’m just trying to be a good wife.”

“Don’t try, Grace… just don’t try.” He added sharply.

“I’m doing everything I’m supposed to be doing Tommy, I take care of our house, look over Charlie, I make sure you’ve everything you need and yet I’m always alone here and when my husband is finally home by the end of the day I want him to take care of me.”

Tommy saw Grace toying with her wedding band.

“I’ve a load shit to do, alright?”

“Is that true or are you sleeping with some whore around?”

Her accusation made him snap his head at her. “What did you just said?”

“You haven’t even touch me in weeks…”

He wanted to sarcastically laugh at her question. You wouldn’t let him set a foot in your shop, let alone sleep in your bed.

“The way I see it, if you’re not with me that means you’re fucking someone else. Just tell me what you want and I’ll do it.”

He didn’t have the balls to say that the last time they slept together, he fantasized it was you instead of her, your name almost slipped out of his lips. But it would’ve drive Grace mad.

“I’m trying to go legal, Grace. That’s all… just go to sleep.”

“Tomm-” She started again but he cut her off.

“Don’t make me repeat myself again.”

Before she left, Tommy could swear he heard a sob but he was busy emptying the whiskey in his glass as he stared into the fire absently. Throwing his head back atop of the couch he wondered if you were by yourself that night.

The following day Grace insisted on joining him to visit his beloved horse, who was being trained at another facility. She started telling Charlie he’d see horses and the kid got too excited to advice her against the idea.

“… as I walked into the jewelry, I saw these lovely earrings that match perfectly…” Grace chatted non stop as they were on their way to the stables. He was looking forward a quiet day, but Grace had other ideas.

He just wished she could sleep just like Charlie was doing in her arms.

“Are you listening?”

Tommy dragged his eyes from the road to look at Grace for an instant, snapping out of his own thoughts.

“Yeah.”

“So what do you think?”

Shuddering, he took a long puff from his cigarette, feeling the smoke burn in his throat.

“I knew it, Tommy… you’re not paying attention.”

“Can you please stop this?!”

“Don’t raise your voice, you’ll wake up Charlie.” She tried but it was too late, the kid was already fussing. “See what you did?”

“You started this.” He pointed angrily.

“Shh, shh Charlie don’t cry.” Grace tried to get his boy settled, luckily he found a couple of horses out there.

“Look over there Charlie.” Tommy pointed. “There’s a horse.”

“Joshiee.” Charlie repeated, clapping.

Stopping the car, Tommy took Charlie in his arms, leaving Grace behind him. The gentleman in him wouldn’t be proud. But each passing day it was harder to pretend that he cared.

Placing his son on the ground, Tommy offered his hand to guide him.

“Come ‘ere.” Pointing at the fishes in the water trough, Tommy looked at the kid smiling with his chubby hand extended. “Goldfish keep the water clean.” He explained as if Charlie could understand. Grace joined them minutes later.

“I’ve been thinking… we should go away, for a family holiday.” Grace proposed brushing away a lock from her face.

Tommy shook his head instantly.

“Can’t do that, I’ve lots of work to do.”

“For a few days.” She tried again.

“No, you can go with Charlie though.”

Grace unamused expression didn’t have any effect on him. He was used by now.

*****

Tommy felt a rush of adrenaline through his body as he pushed past the people gathered on the street. The flames consuming the small shop, people trying to use buckets to attempt to extinguish the fire.

“Y/N!” Was all he could think of as he was desperately looking around for you.

We're not the only ones, I don't regret a thing

Every word I've said, you know I'll always mean

Everything was chaos.

Someone shoved him from behind, but since he let his guard down, he never noticed. An angry voice called for him and he recognized it right away.

“You must be happy now, finally kept your promise of burning my place down… MY MOTHER WAS INSIDE! You bastard! Get outta here!” Your fist landed on his chest as he was trying to process everything.

Tommy felt a rush of relief wash over him as he saw you were alive, but then he got in defensive mode.

“You destroyed years of hard work! My grand parents opened this store, my father started here cleaning shoes until he got a promotion and met my mother.” You spat with tears in your eyes, not caring about the venom and anger in your voice, or the people staring. “I HATE YOU THOMAS SHELBY, and I hope you pay for this.”

“I didn’t do this.” He let out a heavy sigh, shocked by your accusation.

His heart was shattered to know you thought he could do something like this. His stomach turned into a tight knot as he found the disappointment in your eyes.

“As if I didn’t know you, leave for good and don’t you ever come back.” You spat with anger oozing from every pore.

It is the world to me that you are in my life

But I want to live and not just survive

Walking backwards, he stumbled with someone who was trying to help. On his way to his vehicle he saw your mother sitting next to another woman on bench, at least she wasn’t injured.

“Find whoever did this.” Tommy instructed one of the blinders before leaving the place, he still couldn’t believe this was happening, but he had an engagement to attend and besides there was nothing he could do if you didn’t want him there.

Rushing into Arrow House he needed to hurry up to be on time, luckily Frances had his outfit prepared. The phone had been ringing in his office, but he really needed to get out of the house as soon as possible, after adjusting the last touches to his tuxedo, he moved to walk around the car, finding Grace already waiting for him. She welcomed him with a smile and a kiss that took him by surprise, there was something in her eyes different, it seemed like she didn’t had been bothering him about another woman in his life.

“Everything will get better for us after tonight Tommy, I just know.” She checked her reflection.

He doubted it was a possibility, but decided to have a peaceful night for once, specially at an event like this. He needed to raise funds.

“Where have you been? You were almost late.” She asked casually disturbing the peace he was looking for.

“Had some trouble at the shop. Finn messed up.” He lied.

“Hmm that’s weird, I looked for you there and couldn’t find you.”

“Went to the Garrison afterwards, that’s the reason I was late.” The lies slipped from his lips so easily.

She wanted to add something else, but Polly intercepted him by the door. “Scudboat has been looking for you, he looked deadly worried but wouldn’t tell me what’s going on.”

“Polly not now, please.” Turning around his head, he found the city Council leader with Grace.

And as they engaged in conversation, Tommy’s gaze was fixed by the entrance, as Father John Hughes and that insufferable MP entered. He couldn’t even stand to watch them, they weren’t welcome so he better hurry up to finish whatever the hell they’re wanted.

“Brother you need to know something.” Arthur whispered into his ear pushing him towards the staircase for some privacy.

With a heavy sigh, Tommy shook his head. “Not now Arthur, I can’t deal with anything else right now.” He spotted his wife talking to that mad Duchess.

“It was Grace.” Arthur admitted.

Confused, Tommy gave him a long look.

“Grace started the fire at the shoes shop, she saw a woman inside and thought it was Y/N. Someone recognized her.”

His head was spinning, anger building up and reaching unknown limits. Everything was so confusing, the bile rising up in his throat. Y/N could’ve been dead by now.

Storming like a bull he pushed past the people to find his wife.

“Come with me.” He grabbed Grace by the arm roughly making her gasp.

“Tommy I was talking to-”

“Why are you so worked up Mr. Shelby?” Tatiana smirked. His head was pounding. “I was telling your wife about the sapphire she’s wearing.”

“Tatiana said it’s Russian.” Grace interjected eager to participate.

And somehow the conversation escalated quickly, Tatiana kept pushing Grace’s buttons but at the moment he needed to keep the Duchess at bay. He’d deal with his wife’s jealousy later.

Scanning the room, he found Ada, fucking finally! Now he needed to deal with a spoiled princess he thought unamused. As his sister charmed Grace about a fucking donation, he tried to convince Tatiana it was a bad idea to go to the factory, but she was stubborn and had certain urgency to fuck him. There was nothing more discouraging than a woman selling herself off.

He was done. Fucking done of everything; the economic league, the duchess, his wife’s lies. This woman was absolutely mad

But time stopped as the duchess told him the sapphire had been cursed by a Gypsy. His ears were ringing, a shiver ran down his spine. Tommy had lost his faith back in France, but if there was one thing he believe in was spirits and Gypsy curses.

Speechless, he reached his wife in a few long strides.

“We need to talk.” Waving his hands anxiously he pointed at Grace’s necklace. “Take it off.”

“No, why?” Grace hissed visibly pissed off. “Tommy you gave it to me. Why are you doing this? You want to give it to someone else?”

“Here we fucking go.” He scoffed bothered. “I don’t fucking care, you want me to say this in front of them? Fine, I’ll tell you what I just learned.”

Anger was boiling inside of him, he simply didn’t care anymore.

He couldn’t explain the real reasons behind his request. “You told me you stopped by the office earlier huh?” He glanced someone passing towards the grand salon for diner. “But you forgot to mention that afterwards you stopped by at a shoes shop, the last place where a woman like you would be, Grace.” Looking up at the ceiling he blew the air he had been holding. “You started a fire at that shoes shop and don’t even try to lie, because people saw you.”

Grace’s features contorted. “Yes, I did it… because you’re distant with me, I know you wanted to marry that shoe saleswoman.”

Tommy saw red. “Yeah, I was going to marry her and when she heard you were pregnant she took a step back, walked away from me. That’s the biggest and selfless act of love.”

That's why I can't love you in the dark

“And where would you be today if it wasn’t for me?” She asked with her jaw clenched.

“Right here with her giving a beautiful speech about kindness.”

“I’m glad she’s dead by now.” She attempted to walk away, but Tommy took her by the shoulders.

“You should be thankful sh-”

“I don’t care about anything related to her.” Grace replied.

“Well, you should.”

“And why would I care about her?”

“BECAUSE I CARE ABOUT HER!” He lost control, Polly turned her head around at the shouting. “MORNING, NOON, AND NIGHT… I CARE ABOUT HER.”

Grace walked backwards, looking down.

“You’re lucky she wasn’t at the shop, she’s alive and I’m going to find her after the gala is over.” Tommy admitted triumphantly.

A man stormed in his direction out of the blue.

“For Angel!” He shouted right before firing his weapon.

The gunshot echoed in every corner of the room.

In the middle of the chaos, Tommy noticed Grace’s body leaned against him harshly, there was blood everywhere and people screaming. Tommy fell to the floor by the impact and Grace’s weightless body.

He called for help, and ambulance, anyone but Grace was already gone…

Someone took her lifeless body away from him and he wasn’t able to react, he remained frozen on spot in a corner. Replaying the images over and over.

Y/N swallowed hard after debating the entire afternoon whether if you were doing the right thing or not, yet here you stood if front of the venue where the Shelby family was leading a gala to raise funds to help people in need. One of the many dreams Tommy had shared with you.

Once the fire was controlled and people started to leave, one of the blinders who helped your mother to come out of it unharmed to let you know it had been Tommy’s wife the one who caused it, not him.

And guilt had been eating you alive ever since.

You needed to apologize for all the terrible things you said to him. You didn’t hate him, said it out of anger.

“Y/N! Oh, there’s been a tragedy… Grace is dead.”

****

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I’m so happy the first part was so well accepted, hoping this following part will like you too… did you see that coming? If you have a few minutes, I’d LOVE to hear what you think!

Master list

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney @gretelshelby @gypsy-girl-08 @lespendy @onlydeadcells @fastfan @stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @forgottenpeakywriter @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife @elk96 @heidimoreton @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144 @peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @mrkdvidal1989 @shelbydelrey @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyya (can’t tag) @holacia3 @ironpen @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @spookyboogyuniverse @amberpanda99 @immyowndefender @mysticalbouquetwolf-posts @trixie23 @shelundeadxxxx

[callsign-magnolia]

Undiagnosed // Ch. 2

Mature Content 18+

Jake Seresin x Neurodivergent OC

Summary: Katie Blair grew up trying to be the perfect daughter. She always struggled to be the prim and proper little girl her parents wanted. Big personality as a kid, but now at 25, she's the shy admiral's daughter who just keeps her head down and tries to get through law school. So what happens when she's had enough and with help from a certain Lieutenant, she gets out.

Warnings: Emotional abuse, one instance of physical abuse, Major Character death, asshole parents, Jake is a jerk to start.

Word Count: 6.0k

Chapter 1 | Masterlist

The week that everyone was gone on the mission was one of the most peaceful I’ve had in a while. At least when I wasn’t at home. In the evenings, my dad spent all his time on the phone. Many of his conversations went on in his office well into the night. I tried not to be nosey, but I couldn’t help myself. I would occasionally stop outside of his office, listening closely to his conversations. Nothing really piqued my interest, until one night. “Maverick went down?” My heart thudded in my chest at his words. “And Rooster followed him and was also shot down?” I felt bile rising in my throat and I turned, rushing upstairs for the bathroom. I managed to through myself over the toilet, just in time to throw up everything in my system. “Why are you throwing up?” My mom huffed as she stopped in the bathroom doorway. Once I was done, I used some toilet paper to wipe my mouth. “Must’ve eaten something bad.” I said as I stood, grabbing my toothbrush off the bathroom counter. “You only eat my food.” I rolled my eyes as I looked down at the sink. “Unless you’ve been eating that awful fast food.” I shook my head. “No, mom.” I groaned out. “I have not been eating fast food.”

She crossed her arms across her chest, narrowing her eyes at me. “You better not be. You have to watch your figure.” She said as she pinched my side. “I’ll be damned if I have a fat daughter. We’d be the laughingstock of society.” She huffed before walking away. Once my mouth was clean, I walked into my room sneering at the thought of my mother. “We’d be the laughingstock of society.” I whispered in a high-pitched voice. “Well fuck society, I don’t really give a damn anymore.” I huffed, slamming myself into my desk chair. Two more funerals coming up now. Tears gathered in my eyes at the very thought. I only saw Maverick the one time, but Bradley. He was nice when I spoke to him, and I hate that this happened. Him and Natasha seemed close, God she’s probably a train wreck right now. I grabbed my phone from next to my textbook, going onto Instagram and searching for her. I scrolled through probably a thousand Natasha’s before typing in Phoenix. Five profiles down was hers. It was set to private so I requested to follow her, knowing it would be a few days before she accepted or declined. I heard my dad coming upstairs, so I tossed my phone in my desk drawer before grabbing my highlighter. He swung my door open, eyeing me cautiously. “You studying?” I nodded, twirling my highlighter before giving him a small smile. “Good.” With that he was gone, and I released the breath I was holding.

Another week later I sat in the rec room again, writing a paper for one of my classes. I was on a roll; my focus hadn’t wavered in hours. Then I heard the voice I dreaded, that ridiculous goofy like laugh that could only be from one person. I redirected my eyes back to my textbook, hoping if I kept my head down, he would ignore me. I glanced up as him and Lieutenant Seresin came in and turned to the vending machine, their backs to me. I looked back down quickly, going back to my paper. But I lost my focus, anxiety taking over, fear that he would come over here and bother me. Every move they made I tuned into it. Soon they sat on the couch, and I relaxed a little. I sat there quietly, attempting to get my focus back to write my paper, and I was lucky for a few minutes. I was so focused I didn’t hear them get up until they sat in front of me. “Damn did I miss you, Kate.” I refused to look at him, keeping my eyes on my paper. “What are you writing?” I didn’t say anything. “Not answering is rude, honey.” I didn’t care, I wasn’t giving him an opening to bother me. I continued to write when my paper was yanked from under my pencil. I just sighed, leaning back in my chair and crossing my arms over his chest. “Let’s see what you’ve written so far.” He smirked, standing with it and reading over it. He stopped and turned to me. “Not gonna try and take it from me?” I shook my head. “Nope.” He raised a brow before leaning onto the table. “Why not?” His face was close to mine, I could feel his breath brushing across my cheeks. “Because I’ll be damned if I give you another apology.”

He chuckled before tossing my paper down in front of me. “Your writing is shit.” I just went back to writing, ignoring him again. His hand darted out and I grabbed my glasses, stopping him. “Oh, come on. Just trying to have a little fun.” I rolled my eyes. “No, you’re acting like a middle school bully.” I retorted and he scoffed. “Now, if you don’t mind, shit writing or not, I still have to turn in this paper tomorrow.” I went back to writing. Neither offered to move so I looked up, waving my hands to shoo them away. “Goodbye.” Coop’s eyebrows shot up, surprised at my sudden bravery. “God you’re a bitch.” Lieutenant Seresin said. “I know.” Coop said as he leaned his hands on the table. “Yeah. I can be a bitch and you know what.” Blood was pumping in my ears as I placed my paper in my textbook, slamming it shut. “You fucking deserve it.” I marched out, getting permission from my father to go home. I blanked out the entire ride home. When I pulled into the driveway I was confused as to how I got there, and safely at that. I shook it off, going inside to finish my paper. Once I did, I fed my fish, realizing their tank needed to be cleaned. “I’ll get you guys all clean tomorrow.” Tomorrow kicked off the weekend, so if I got it done tomorrow, I would have more time to do things I wanted.

The weekend was long, and it consisted of my parents dragging me to all kinds of functions and studying. I didn’t even get to clean my fish tank till Sunday night, which resulted in me getting yelled at. “You should’ve done this before now!” My mothers shrill voice pierced the air. “I didn’t have an opportunity till now.” She widened her eyes, practically stalking towards me. “Are you saying that it’s my fault you’re just now doing this?” I shook my head as I tilted the tank, dumping the water out. “You have dragged me all over town this weekend.” I told her and she gasped. “So typical. Of course, you can’t take responsibility for anything you do.” I had my head down as I sat on the edge of the tub, scrubbing the inside of the fish tank. “Then you come in here and make a mess!” I stopped, sitting up and looking back at her. “It wouldn’t be that messy if I could get a syphon. Then I could even leave my fish in there.” She scowled at me, angry that I spoke back to her. “No! You don’t need anything else for those stupid fish! Why do you still have them anyway? We got them for you when you were nineteen because we thought that maybe you deserved it.” I glared at her. “Because I love them, that’s why.” She laughed at that. “They’re fish! They can’t mean that much to you! Besides, you’re lucky I haven’t made you get rid of them yet.” She said before she stormed off, her heavy footfalls growing quieter as she went into her room. Once I finished the tank, I quickly refilled it and set up their filter before putting them back into the water. “Don’t worry guys. I’m never getting rid of you.” I said before feeding them. I smiled, watching them for a few minutes before crawling in bed, picking up Salem’s Lot to read.

The next day I made my way to base after class like normal. I walked into the front portion of dad’s office seeing Melanie, his secretary, at her desk. “You can go in.” She said in her dull, monotonous tone. I grabbed the handle, swinging the door open like I’ve done every day and was shocked to find nine sets of eyes on me. But the ones that caught me off guard were Bradley and Mavericks. I was shocked to see them standing in front of me after the conversation I heard in dad’s office at home. My eyes shifted around the room before meeting my father’s angry gaze. I gulped, seeing the fire in his eyes. I felt fear creep up my back, but I tried not to show it. “Katie. I’m in the middle of a meeting, why are you in here?” I opened my mouth to reply when Melanie rushed in, a look of panic on her face. “Admiral I am so sorry.” “You’re fired. Get your stuff and get out.” Melanie turned her gaze to me, her glare piercing my cheek, almost as if she was hoping I’d catch on fire or drop dead. I dropped my head, focusing on my heeled feet instead of looking at anyone. “Will you please give me a moment with my daughter? Stand just outside the door and I’ll let you back in in a moment.” Everyone quickly stood, filing out the door. Don’t leave. Don’t leave me in here alone with him. My body was screaming at me to run. My father has always been strict, and I don’t recall many moments when he was kind. But as I stood here against the wall, clean across the room from him, the door closed, and we were alone.

I was shaking violently as I kept my head down. “Get over here.” He spat as he stood up. I quickly stepped closer till his desk separated us, dropping my bag into one of the chairs. “Look at me when I say this.” There was something in his voice. Something that had every alarm in my body going off. Tears streamed down my face as I looked up at him. I’ve never seen him this angry. “If you think, you can ever barge into my office like that again. You have another thing coming. My work puts a roof over your head, puts you through school and keeps those expensive fucking shoes on your feet!” I flinched as he yelled the last bit. “My work is the most important thing in my life. Not your mother and certainly not you. You need to get that through your head, because your life will be a lot easier when you do.” I nodded, pulling on my thumbs as I fought the urge to run. “Yes, sir. Melanie told me-“ I was cut off when something connected with my face, a loud slapping noise filled the room as I fell to the floor, bouncing off one of the chairs. It took a minute for my vision to settle and when it did, I realized my dad had come around his desk, squatting down on front of me. “Get your ass up, right now.” I stumbled my way up off the floor, realizing everything was blurry. “Go study and stay out of my way for the rest of the day.” I nodded, reaching down to grab my silver frames off the floor, sliding them back up my nose as I grabbed my bag. I made it to the door and almost opened it until I realized everyone was just outside of this door. I grabbed the clip holding up my hair and let it fall around my face. “What are you waiting for? Leave!” I jumped, swinging the door open and rushing past everyone.

I rushed into the rec room, thankful for the silence. There was no one in here and I sat at the table, unpacking my books and my laptop. My cheek stung and I’m sure I had a bright red mark on my face. I was grateful my hair was long enough to cover my cheeks, allowing me to hide the growing mark from peering eyes. I quickly got to work on my notes, trying to refine them from class so they would be easier to study. I did that for about an hour until I heard footsteps coming towards the room. My body tensed up, scared of who was going to come through the door. I heard the door swing open and I kept my head down, hoping if I didn’t look up, they would leave me alone. But my wishes were spoiled when someone sat in the chair next to me. “Hey.” A soft voice spoke from next to me. I was surprised, my head snapping up and turning to her. “Hi Natasha.” My voice was quiet, almost scared to speak up. “Are you okay?” I immediately nodded. “Totally fine. Just stressed from school.” She hummed. “No stress at home?” I shook my head, writing more in my notebook. “No, everything’s fine.” She seemed to realize I didn’t want to talk, so she dropped the conversation as Rooster came in. “Hey. I see you found her first.” Rooster said as he sat across from me. “I told you she’d be in here.” She said with a grin. “Yeah yeah.” He winced as he shifted in his seat, my eyes never leaving him. “You okay?” My mouth opened and closed a few times before I finally spoke up. “I thought you and Maverick were dead.” He chuckled slightly. “We all did for a while. But then Maverick pulled a plan out of his ass, and they crash landed back onto the runway.”

I sat back in my chair, crossing my arms over my chest. “I didn’t know you survived. I just knew you went down.” He furrowed his brows. “How’d you know that?” I bit my lip, considering if I should tell them. “You can tell us.” Natasha said, smiling at me. “I um… I was walking past my dad’s office, and I heard him on the phone. It was the phone call he got when you and Maverick went down.” He gave me a small smile. “Well, we’re alive and mostly uninjured.” He chuckled. “We wanted to ask about you.” My heart rate picked up, worrying they knew what happened in the office. “I’m fine.” I insisted but he raised a brow. “Your dad seems… unfair.” I pursed my lips. Unfair isn’t even the word. “He just pushes me because he wants me to do really well in school.” I turned my eyes back to my notes. “How is law school anyway?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine.” His face fell and Phoenix hummed. “So, I saw on your Instagram you have a pretty neat set up for your fish tank.” I looked at her and she had a smile on her face. “You uh-you like it?” She nodded. “It’s really cool. What kind of fish do you have in there?” I pulled out my phone, excited to show her. “So I have two goldfish, a guppy, an angelfish, and a neon tetra.” I said as I pulled up a few photos to show her. “Oh wow. What are their names?” I opened my mouth to answer but stopped. They’re not clever names. They’ll think you’re stupid.

I pushed the thoughts out of my head, not wanting to listen to it. “Katie?” My head snapped to Natasha who was looking at me. “Um, they’re not the greatest names.” I said and she laughed. “I didn’t ask if they were amazing names. I just asked what they were.” She was right. “Um, well the two goldfish are Splish & Splash.” My face burned red as they laughed. “Okay, that one is cute.” I felt a little better at her words. “My guppy’s name is Georgie, the angelfish is Simon, and the tetra is Ripley.” She smiled at the pictures. “Those are some cute names.” I nodded; glad she wasn’t judging me. “So, what made you get fish over a dog or something?” Bradley asked and I shrugged. “My parents got them for me. I wasn’t allowed to have dogs or cats.” Bradley raised a brow. “So, you’ve never had a dog?” I shook my head. “We didn’t have any pets at all until my parents got my fish for me when I was nineteen.” They seemed surprised. “Even I had a cat growing up.” I pursed my lips, nodding. “Do you want some help studying?” Bradley asked, pointing towards my textbooks. “Oh, no. You don’t have to!”

“I offered because I wanted to.” I thought about it for a minute before Natasha nudged me. “Um, sure. That would be great.” He smiled, turning my book towards him and Natasha leaned forward to look at it. They helped me for a while until Lieutenant Seresin walked in. He had that stupid smirk on his face and he kept looking over at us as he got something from the vending machine. My stare locked on the vending machine, the noise of it releasing the snack reminding me that I hadn’t eaten all day. “Katie.” My head snapped back to Natasha, who raised a brow at me. “Why are you staring at him?” She whispered and I shook my head. “I wasn’t.” Bradley wiggled his eyebrows at me, and a blush flooded my cheeks. “I swear. I heard the vending machine go off and I remembered I hadn’t eaten all day.” I turned my attention back down to my notes. “Katie. That’s not good.” Bradley said, leaning on his folded forearms. “I know. I just- I spend so much time studying I forget until Dad and I get home and mom has dinner cooking.” I looked between them as they furrowed their eyebrows at each other. “You seem to study a lot for something you don’t seem so interested in.” Natasha observed. I shrugged my shoulders. “It’s what my parents want, so I don’t really have a choice.”

“If you had it your way, what would you be in school for?” I bit my lip, debating on telling them. But decided that it would be okay. “Nursing. Probably pediatric or oncology nursing.” Something in Bradley’s face shifted. “Those are two very different types of nursing.” I nodded. “But they’re the two specialties that I would want to do if I went into nursing.” Bradley hummed. “The oncology nurses were some of the best when I went with my mom to her appointments.” I was a little caught off guard by his statement. “Oh, um, I’m so sorry Bradley. Did she…” I didn’t know how to properly ask if she died or not. “She didn’t make it. I was seventeen when she died.” I gave him a small smile. “Well let’s get back to work.” Natasha said and I nodded. “Just let me clip my hair out of my face.” I grabbed a claw clip from my bag, twisting my hair and putting it up when there was a gasp next to me. “What the hell happened to your face?” Natasha asked loudly and I quickly remembered what had happened earlier. “Oh I uh, fell this morning on the stair case and hit my cheek on the banister.” I tossed in a little chuckle to play it off. “Banisters don’t have fingerprints, Katie.”

Bradley seemed mad. They both did, but I couldn’t let this get out of hand. “It’s not a big deal. I was out of line.” I said as I grabbed my pencil, when suddenly a much larger hand gripped mine. “You’re saying your dad did that to you?” Bradley asked menacingly. “I-“ “Is that what he did when we had to leave his office?” Natasha’s eyes were so wide, I thought they would fall out of her head. “No! No! My dad would never! No!” I immediately got defensive, and I knew it. They both narrowed their eyes at me in suspicion. “God! Can y’all shut up?” The voice came from the obnoxious blonde lounging on the couch across the room. “Shut the fuck up, Hangman. This doesn’t concern you.” Bradley snapped and only received a chuckle. “Come on, Rooster. She sounds like a cat in a woodchipper, I can’t stand it.” I took a deep breath. See, no matter what you do, you’re annoying. No wonder you didn’t make friends in college. “What the fuck is your problem with her?” Bradley yelled as he stood up. Lieutenant Seresin stood as well. “My problem?” He stalked closer, eyeing Bradley closely. “She’s entitled. Thinks she can do whatever she wants around here. I’d tell you you’re wasting your time with her, but you wouldn’t listen anyway. She’s just mad that daddy knocked her down a peg.” Bradley moved fast, grabbed Lieutenant Seresin by the collar of his flight suit. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t I?” His eyes shifted to me, then back to Bradley. “Punching Coop? Barging into our meeting with the Commander-” Bradley reared his fist back and Natasha and I jumped up. We both grabbed Bradley and I grabbed the elbow of the arm he pulled back. “He’s not worth it!” He tried to pull away from me, but I kept a hold of him. “Bradley!” I yelled, hoping he would stop, but he didn’t until a booming voice interrupted us. “What the hell is going on here?” We all froze but I quickly let go of Bradley, folding my hands behind my back. “Commander Blair, sir.” Bradley addressed. “Lieutenant Seresin was saying some rude things about your daughter.” His face was stone solid as he said it and my eyes flashed to my dad who glared at me before pinching the bridge of his nose. “Katie. Get over here.” Dad demanded. I took a deep breath, trying to stop the shaking before I slowly took steps towards him. Once I got close enough, he pulled me out int the hallway and slammed the rec room door closed. “You listen, and you listen well. I’m tired of you causing problems between my men. Either shut your mouth and stay away from them or you’re barred from base, and you will only go to school and home.” I nodded in understanding, and he stared at me for a moment before he reached around my head, and yanked my claw clip out of my hair. “AH!” I yelled out as he pulled, taking some of my hair with it. “Keep your hair down. You can see the mark on your cheek.” I nodded as he slammed my clip into my waiting hand. “Now you go back in there and you don’t say a word to anyone.” I nodded. “Yes, sir.”

He opened the door back up and I walked in, keeping my head down. I blew past everyone, back to my seat. “See! Once again, she’s pouting because she got in trouble! God, she acts like a child.” I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore as I set the hair covered clip onto the table and pulled my book back over to me. “What happened?” Bradley asked as he sat across from me. I held my breath to keep the sobs at bay as more tears fell. “Katie.” I didn’t look at him, I didn’t speak to him, anything. “You don’t have to listen to him.” I wish that were true. I may be twenty-five, but I had no way out. “This is fucking ridiculous.” He said as he stood from the chair, slamming it back into the table and making me jump. I heard a sigh next to me as Natasha leaned her hands on the table. “You don’t have to go through this, Katie.” She said as she slid me a small piece of paper. Once she walked away, I glanced over at it, seeing a phone number with her name above it. Once she was out of the room, I subtly grabbed the paper, slipping it into a page in my textbook so that no one would find it. Lieutenant Seresin sat on the couch again, scrolling through his phone as I continued my work, staying quiet. But when he got up, he stopped in the doorway. “God. Coop was right about you.” Once he walked out and slammed the door behind him, I let the sobs out.

I wasn’t sure how long I cried for, but once I got home Dad told Mom what happened, and I got another earful. I didn’t have the energy to fight back so I just sat at the dinner table, listening to how disrespectful I was, how awful of a daughter I am, how I can’t do anything right. By the time I made it to my room, I felt numb. So much so, I almost forgot to feed my fish. I attempted to study for a while, but it was no use. So, I laid in bed, warm under my covers as I scrolled through Instagram. Eventually I came across Natasha’s Instagram, and I remembered I had her number. I got up, pulling it from my textbook and laying back down. I put it into my phone and shot her a text. After a few minutes I was panicking, wondering about her response so I picked up my copy of Salem’s Lot, attempting to pick up where I left off but as soon as my bookmark slid onto my lap, my phone buzzed. By the end of the conversation, I was sobbing. No matter what, I can’t seem to keep others around. Something always ruins it. I laid back in bed, staring up at my ceiling. This is how my life is going to be. My parents will ruin everything, and it’s something I’m just going to have to accept. I sobbed at the thought. Being stuck with my parents for the rest of my life sounded worse than death.

I heard footsteps in the hallway and quickly turned over and closed my eyes and attempted to settle my breathing. I heard my door open, but I couldn’t tell if it was my mom or my dad. The hallway light spilled in, giving way to a large shadow. “I’m about to put duct tape over your mouth if you don’t shut up.” He muttered before walking out and closing my door. Once my dad was gone, I took a deep breath fighting back the sobs as I exhaled. I was choking myself holding it in, so I buried my face in the pillow and quietly cried, hoping neither of my parents would hear. Eventually I cried myself to sleep, regretting it with a massive headache and a splotchy and swollen face the next morning. “Look at you! You look like a literal train wreck!” My mom yelled as I finished curling my hair, opting for only mascara and eyeliner today. “I had a bad day yesterday.” I mumbled. “Speak up!” Mom yelled, ramming the side of her fist into the bathroom door. “I said, I had a bad day yesterday.” I enunciated. “Who cares? We all have bad days. Just get over it and don’t let it bother you, because when it does, this is what I have to deal with.” I bit my lip as I grabbed my glasses off the counter, sliding them on my face. I turned to her as she blocked the doorway, arms crossed over her chest. “Excuse me.” It was basically a whisper. “Speak. Up.” I cleared my throat, meeting her gaze. “Excuse me.” She huffed before walking away and I went back into my room to grab my bag before heading downstairs to grab my keys.

I walked past my dad who sat in the dining room, drinking his coffee and eating the breakfast my mother made for him. “Where are you going in a rush?” He asked and I stopped in the doorway, turning to him. “Leaving for class.” He didn’t look at me, keeping his back to me. “Forgetting something?” I clenched my fists at my sides, not wanting to go near him. Yesterday crushed every hope I ever had that he loved me even a little. Mother has always made it clear ever since I was little, but my dad was always a little softer with me until I started college. “Katie.” His deep voice broke me from my thoughts, and I took a few steps forward, leaning down and kissing his cheek. “Love you, daddy.” I said before I rushed out, not sticking around to see if he said anything. I got in my car and drove to campus, hoping the drive would clear my head. By the time I reached campus, my headache had eased a little and my face wasn’t as red but my skin was a little dark on my cheek where dad slapped me yesterday. I huffed, making sure my hair covered my cheek for the most part before walking into my first lecture of the day. My lectures were mind-numbingly boring, and I counted the moments until they ended. My last class of the day was Dr. Nieman’s class, and my least favorite.

My dad has known Dr. Nieman for a long time and he tells my dad everything, any move I make is told like small town gossip. We were halfway through the class when I heard the whispers a few seats down from me. It took a second to pick up on what the girls were saying, but I froze when I heard it was about me. “What do you think she did to deserve that bruise?” The hand holding my pen stopped dead in it’s tracks, tuning into the conversation. “Who knows. But we all know she’s a freak, probably scared some poor person with that intense eye contact of hers.” Tears sprung to my eyes at their words. I’m not a freak, I’m completely normal. You are a freak. You can’t control half the things you do or say. “Ladies. I hope whatever you’re discussing is more important than my lesson.” They froze as they were caught, staring at Dr. Nieman with wide eyes. “Go ahead. Share your thoughts.” My head snapped to the two girls, my eyes pleading for them to lie. Their eyes met mine and one of them cleared her throat. “We were curious about Katie’s bruise on her cheek.” Dr. Nieman’s eyes met mine and I hung my head, refusing to look at him. “That seemed like an awfully long conversation about a bruise. There must be more to your discussion.” I gripped my pen so tightly I was worried it would snap in my hand. “We came to the conclusion that she earned that bruise because she stared at someone too intensely.” Dr. Nieman hummed and nodded. “Sounds like a solid conclusion.” He said before turning back to the board. “Yeah, we all know how much of a freak she is with that stare of hers.” Some guy behind me said as he leaned forward. I slammed my pen on the desk before standing, grabbing my bag and my books before hauling ass out of the lecture hall. “Miss Blair!” Dr. Nieman yelled, but I ignored him as tears streaked down my cheeks.

I knew my dad would hear about this, but I didn’t care. I have never done anything to anyone in that room and yet they’re all acting as if I don’t belong in society. I sobbed as I launched my bag clear across my car before tossing it in reverse and high tailing it off campus. I drove for who knows how long, but I only stopped when I pulled into an ocean front parking lot. I sat in my car and cried, letting out all the frustrations I had as people around me went about their day as if nothing was wrong. Finally, I sat up, pulling out a makeup wipe from my center console and cleaning my face of the streaked mascara and eyeliner before putting my glasses back on. I stared out at the rolling waves, watching them crash along the sand. I watched as one guy swam out, far. I wonder if anyone would miss me if I just swam out into the ocean and let the current take me under. Immediate fear struck me, and more tears clouded my vision. I’ve never had any thoughts like that before, but it scared me. I never thought I would be that person, contemplating suicide in the slightest. I flung my door open, getting out and closing it behind me. I need something to distract me. And at that thought, the smell of food invaded my senses and my stomach growled, reminding me I haven’t eaten anything all day.

I grabbed my wallet from my bag, walking over to the little shack. “Hi, what can I get you?” I stared at the menu for a minute. “Can I please get a cheeseburger and some fries?” He nodded, keying it into the register. “And what to drink?” He asked. “Um, water is fine.” He nodded and I stood to the side, waiting for my food. My mother would kill me if she knew what I was doing. Especially since I’m using my gas money for it. I’ll just have to make the gas stretch until they give me more money. “Katie!” The guy yelled, startling me. “Oh, sorry.” He said as he handed me the red and white bowl that held my food. “It’s okay.” I muttered before saying thank you and walking away. There was a small picnic table in front of my car, so I sat, opting to people watch while I ate. I was startled as a seagull landed on my table, staring at me in curiosity as I ate my burger. I broke off a small piece of a fry, tossing it to him. “You’re just hungry aren’t you little guy.” He screeched at me before taking off. Once I was done I tossed everything and got back in my car, realizing I had half an hour to get on base. Thankfully I was close, but that meant I had to time it right to walk into my dad’s office or else he’ll know something was up, that is, if Dr. Nieman hasn’t already called him. I took my time getting there, but I still pulled into my usual parking spot five minutes early. I sat there for a moment before slowly making my way into the building, I stopped in his secretary’s office that was now empty and waited. Just as my watch ticked to four o’clock, I hesitantly walked in. “Hi, dad.” He was signing some things as I set my bag in my chair. “Hi. How was school?” I was taken aback by his tone. He sounded happy, even his facial expression showed it. “It was… fine.” I said, surprised by his demeanor. “I’ll be here a little late, but we’ll make it home in time for dinner.” I nodded, grabbing my bag from the chair. I hesitated, turning back to face him. “Dad?” He looked up to me, a curious look on his face. “Is everything okay?” He made me nervous when he got like this, because it’s usually followed by rage. “I have just had such a good day. Now, go study and I’ll come get you when it’s time to go home.” I nodded, walking over to his door. “Yes, sir.” I replied. I swung the door open, startled to see a man rushing for the door. His eyes caught mine and he narrowed them at me for a moment. “Admiral Blair, sir.” The Lieutenant said as he pushed past me into dad’s office, offering him a salute. “There’s something you should know.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @wkndwlff @cherrycola27 @daisydaisygoose @rosiahills22 @deanoheartspie @cornishkat @high-speed-r @fogle97 @mygyn @ohgodnotagainn

[millylouedward]

The Time Machine by H. G. Wells - Review

 Boy, am I late to the party. I'm sorry guys, really, the bus was late, and then I found this strange device with a clock on it, hopped on, and next thing I knew I was in this grayish space while time flew past me. I finally found the brakes and landed in 2023. Hi, my name is ------, or better yet, just call me the Reader. 

The Reader had been struggling to get through the book. Her eyelids fought hard against her efforts, dropping after every sentence. Her mind wandered to other things, places, people. It wasn't the books fault, not really. The Reader just fucking hated listening to men from the 1890s talk about a bunch of other men and use the word "hitherto" too many times. 

Jokes aside, I gave The Time Machine four stars. That's right. I hardly even read books my men, let alone rate their work highly. I mean somebody has to knock all these white men down a few pegs, right? If it's gonna be anyone, it's gonna be The Reader. But not this time.

There was something so strongly philosophical about The Time Machine and I'm still struggling to fully place it. The more I thought about it, the more everything seemed to boil down to consciousness. I sat here with the book in my hands thinking that human consciousness is the root of all the problems here and in reality. What other species is so eager to escape their reality? None but humans. We are the only creatures so desperate to get away. Even when we're perfectly happy, there is still that quiet push, that desire to just be with our families, doing what we love, eating deliciously, and nothing else. 

In a lot of ways, I found The Time Machine to be rather anti-work, assuming that the only way to experience a utopia is through self-sustainable community. But then, was it really? Because in this book, we're operating under the assumption that the Morlocks are underground performing all the work to keep the Eloi alive. But is that really true? We never actually see any mechanical structures aside from the bronze doors of the Sphynx. Are the Eloi really just cattle to the Morlocks, or do they see themselves as having achieved the ultimate form of peace? Does a cow enjoy its pasture until it is slaughtered?

Like I said, I'm still working out the meaning of this text, if there even is any. Regardless of what it means, it says one thing very clearly. Human consciousness is the problem because it convinces us we must be in constant pursuit of an unachievable peace. 

I mean really. Look at history. There has always been a pain and suffering much greater than the majority of us in this world face. In the US at least, I can order a bulk pack of Oreos to my house from Amazon at 8 AM and have it there by noon. A few hundred years ago, people were toiling soil, fighting weeds and insects and weather patterns just to get a few vegetables. Now, farmers are pumping their foods full of growth hormones and using machines to grow, water, and harvest them in record speeds. 

Perhaps that is what this book is saying. Peace is not achievable without the suffering of someone else. It reminds me of a story I heard as a teenager about a town where every single person could live happy and carefree, but only if they chose one child to take all the pain. The child would be away from sight, in the dark, feeling pain and suffering every day. Loneliness. Bleeding. Hunger. Everything. Is it right to let the child suffer for eternity if it means hundreds of others can live in peace? And who of us in first world countries will be so brave as to look the child in the eye and acknowledge what we do to it to have our happiness? 

A lot to digest from The Time Machine. Overall I really enjoyed it. I actually bought a copy when I was in high school but the opening scene was so confusing to my brain that I never got any farther. And it actually still was hard to set the scene on the first couple pages this time around, which was a big reason for taking off a star on my rating (that and the little bits of racism). 

And here's my Goodreads review:

"If you had a time machine, where would you go? To the end of our galaxy? To a not so distant future where all the problems of the present have been solved? I find that this is the least important question proposed in The Time Machine. Rather, this story asks the reader to dig more deeply. Is consciousness a good thing? 

"I found The Time Machine to be both philosophical and entertaining. At once, I was eager to see how the time traveler will escape the year 802,701 and questioning the way consciousness drives us as individuals. Without it, we might achieve a sense of peace, like cattle in a pasture, the only fear being prey. Yet our having consciousness leads us to believe the constant pursuit of peace is achievable. And who has truly felt that? What human has ever experienced peace and silence like that of the Eloi? 

"I'm gonna be so real, I picked up this book because I realized the shortest book I've read this year was an Ali Hazelwood novella, and frankly I don't want to see her name and cover come up every time I look at my 2023 goodreads summary, so I had to read an even shorter book before the end of this month. However, I really, really enjoyed this story and all of the complex thoughts it stirred in me."

Alright, I'm onto my next books. I'm still trying to get into The Last Olympian so I can finish out the PJO series before the TV show releases, and I'm focusing on Iris Kelly Doesn't Date right now. This was book #51 in my Goodreads reading challenge, so just one more before I finish out the year.

[msmental-madness]

Intro.

Hello world,

My name is Penelope. I'm a 32 years old woman who has been having a really hard time lately managing my mental illnesses, on top of being "newly" diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in October 2021.

I am someone who has always been a little too much of an open book and overshare. I am completely open about my mental illnesses and have no shame in telling it like it is because people should know what it's like to live feeling as I do on a daily basis. It's hard to live a life feeling misunderstood. I feel like shit every day and just hope that one day my life will end because I'm too much of a coward to end it myself.

I grew up with parents who were older and grew up with the belief that mental illnesses aren't real or if you have one, you're deeply flawed. When I was 19 years old, I had to sneak around to be assessed with ADHD, but then formally tested again at a center in 2020 due to lack of records. Prior to this test, my Mom disclosed to me that I have an Auditory Processing Disorder, which was discovered when I was in PRESCHOOL. I was in speech therapy for many years. It blows my mind how my parents knew something was wrong from then on and did nothing to help me with school. All because "they didn't believe". It also was the early nineties so for all I know, maybe there was a lack of information about it at the time. It's still easier to blame my parents....so...I'll do that. ;)

I was always a strange child. I didn't wear jeans until high school because I didn't like how tight they felt. I always wore baggy clothes up until high school as well. I'm an incredibly picky eater. I don't eat fruits and vegetables because they make me gag or throw up. The only fruit I will eat are Macintosh Apples and they can't be fresh. I have to wait a couple months until they're mushy but not completely rotten. While on medical leave, I was assessed for Autism and it turns out I'm on the spectrum. I'm considered high functioning, which makes sense to me. I've had the same job for nine years; I was one month shy of seven years at my first job. I've managed to buy my own home in just my name. I have my own car in my name. I must be doing something right! I was also diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder, which is mainly what my blog will be about.

In 2018, I was sent to an outpatient program to address my worsening depression and was diagnosed with PTSD. I had ended an abusive engagement a year before and I was having a lot of difficulty getting past that. I also endured a lot of mental and verbal abuse as a child growing up and that has followed me into my adult life between being the target in my family, constant bullying from a former boss, and former lover. I'm hoping I still have your attention but believe me, you'll appreciate knowing the backstory as to why I'm so fucked up.

Before the ADHD and Autism diagnoses, I struggled with depression and major anxiety for pretty much my entire life. I just always knew there was more to how I was feeling based on my thoughts and behavior. I never thought it was normal how explosive I'd become while hearing people chew food or how I'd go from 0-60 with my mood swings. I take pride in being weird and quirky but a lot of people are impatient with what is actually my form of OCD. No one understands me at all.

I would love to blame the lesions on my brain for my mental problems, but I know that's not it. The neurologist told me that I have so many lesions on my brain that I've probably had Multiple Sclerosis for at least a decade. I'm not even mad or sad about it honestly. I knew something was wrong for a long time and no one believed me.

When I finally had a diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder, it changed my life. I researched it and still do and everything resonates with me. Going forward, the rest of my blog will focus on this and flashbacks to my past. I will be brutally honest about what thoughts run through my head because I think it's important to be honest about how sensitive we are and what our thought process is. I hate being told I'm "dramatic". I could slap anyone who says that. They are lucky to not have to play what I call "Mood Roulette" on an hourly fucking basis.

I am hoping that if you've made it this far, you will continue to read. I know this intro wasn't super exciting but I will be more interesting going forward. Thank you for reading! Just remember, you're not alone, and you have an ally <3

[dimepdf]

STUDY DATE. + EDDIE MUNSON

masterlist. / taglist. / any request? summary. requested! "Could you do an Eddie Munson x reader smut where the reader is hoppers daughter and he catches them having sex." author’s note. loving every single Eddie request i've gotten so far, proof that us Eddie stans have such good taste.

[ ❥ ] pairing. eddie munson x reader

[ ❥ ] word count. 1k

[ ❥ ] genre. 18+, pwp

[ ❥ ] warnings. no S4 spoilers, mature theme, language, throat fucking, friends to lovers, oral (m), praise kink, pet names, reader is Hoppers daughter

The mood had shifted from the usual stale mood in your bedroom in the blink of an eye.

With graduation approaching, you had persuaded Eddie to study with you every night after Hellfire Club, much to his great annoyance. For him, the only frustration was that your sessions were consuming his valuable band practice time, whereas you, on the other hand, lacked a perfect sleeping schedule.

Hopper always complained about the mess the boy made wherever he walked, along with Hopper. You rely on a can of Jolt every day to provide a sugar rush and keep you awake and sane while dealing with the two bickering males.

Eddie was a real pain in the ass to study with. He didn't bother taking much of the homework seriously, as well as he won't actually try memorizing some of the most important questions and vocabulary.

The boy basically comes over to lie in your bed, eat your snacks, and complain about your music taste. You cringe as he takes his shoes off and flops onto your mattress, the sound of your headboard giving way to the sudden movement.

Your door was left open, as Hopper didn't trust any boy, let alone Eddie, in a room with you alone.

Hopper had decided to spend the day with Joyce, leaving you and Eddie to the usual routine of the guy driving over to your house tiredly after Hellfire Club, his motivation for doing anything other than napping being the fact that he had to deal with bickering teenagers.

You sighed, trying to focus on the pile of homework you'd scattered on the floor, Eddie reaching for a jumble of flashcards from the pile and shuffling through them with his ringed decorated fingers.

You usually ashamed yourself for having a pit in your stomach every time you looked at Eddie, mentally degrading yourself for even considering finding the slob attractive as your eyes couldn't help but gawk at him.

It was a major problem, and your eyes fluttered as you tried to break free from the trance he had induced in you. Until Eddie noticed you looking at his doe-eyed blank stare, at which point he innocuously regained his signature cocky smirk.

That was the incline in everything, and it was the reason you were both on your mattress with swollen lips and fresh hickeys bruised into your neck, your lips swollen as Eddie nibbled on them with a moan escaping your lips.

"Fuck, you want me so badly, princess?" As you shivered, he whispered, biting the lobe of your ear. You could only nod, having already fallen into his trance, not bothering to hide the smitten look in your eyes.

He helped you in stripping down to your underwear as Eddie guided you to sit between his legs, his face flushed pink as he freed his cock from his underwear. You almost drooled at the sight as you swallowed, watching his hand wrap around the base of his cock.

Eddie leaned back against your headboard as you leaned down to wrap your lips around his cock, watching through your lashes as his head tilted, grunting a string of curses under his breath. "Fuck your mouth is so hot." You moaned as your lips vibrated against his cock and your tongue traced over one of his veins.

Eddie's thighs flinched beneath you as he grunted in response to the sensation.

"Oh dear god." Eddie exhaled, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his head instantly fogging at the sight of your wet lips wrapping around his entirety, your eyes prickling with tears as you struggled to take his entire length down your throat.

 As you gagged in surprise at the unexpected contact, his hand reached out to trace around your neck. Eddie was humming at the warmth of your throat, an idea pinging through his mind as he pushed you to reposition yourself at the end of the bed.

Eddie stood over you, your head hanging just off the mattress. "Open for me, baby," he said as your lips parted to welcome his cock back into your mouth.

"Okay, good girl, just push me away when it gets too much." With the girth already sliding down your tongue, you could only hum in agreement. Eddie's fingers traced the bulge that formed from his own dick as his cock slid down your throat.

"You have no idea how beautiful you are right now." You couldn't stop gagging as he pushed himself all the way in, his hands resting on either side of you, fisting into the mattress as his hips thrust slowly.

Eddie didn't want to spare you much, preferring to shove your sarcastic jabs at him further down your throat. While another part of him wanted to be gentle, knowing that this was probably your first time doing something like this.

He twitched at the thought of ruining you as he watched himself vanish in your mouth.

"I'm so close, baby." Atlas, you felt it as Eddie thrust himself deep down your throat, your hands grabbing his thighs to keep yourself in place as you could only be a hole for him before Eddie yanked his cocked from your mouth with a pop.

As he stroked himself. His head tilted back as you watched him touch himself so hastily from underside down, your tongue watering at the raunchy sight as he was. 

You flinched the moment his cum spilled from his tip covering your face as well as your chest.

"You look good like that, you know," he sighed, his smirk returning as he slapped his tip against your cheek, causing both of you to laugh as you sat up.

Eddie wiped your face with the dry toilet you had hanging up. You accepted the aftercare as his hand reached to caress your face, leaning into his touch, not expecting him to be much of a sappy romantic.

"Perhaps studying isn't so bad after all," he joked, and you both flinched at the sound of your front door opening. As Hopper's loud footsteps approached your bedroom, you both scattered to pull back your clothes and swing open a window to air out the room.

Eddie tripped trying to yank back on his jeans, you chose to just cover yourself with a blanket, Hopper could only stare at the both of you when he stopped at your doorway.

"Out, now." was all he said as Eddie followed him out of your room with a "yes, sir." welp it was fun while it lasted.

[ ❥ ] taglist. @prettyeyedmaureen @hprefect @torynicholsgf @viczvaporrub-blog @lluvin @heavanskitchen @satansspaghettie @lady-ashfade @thatonefangirlbookworm @slut4normanosborn @kitkatwinchester @fanfictionfreak @bucky-daddy-barnes @eldriidd @ycarlii @irlbeaniebabey @tsukishimawhore @joukiworld @angel0signall @pungey @knoxvillesshoes @thecreaterofweird @starkssnarks @dopepersonacloudllama @universallygiantwagonhumanoid @elliebellsblog @cuervooo-gomez @myheartlikesu @guitarromantic @sh3lov3dyou @randomgirlthatlikesalotoffandom @loveshineslikethesky @haechaniebom @lafresamilk @eddiemunsonswife @biggestslutever-1stnamegrea-blog @sughcashsaiki @fzzybrain @sunnysidesadie @graktung @strangerthanfanfiction713 @imliterallygonnagetviolent

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[rafescoke]

Need To Know ; Rafe Cameron (Part 3)

masterlist

#Part 3

Previous parts: #Part 1, #Part 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: The reader confronts Rafe about his past

Warnings: Mentions of suicide!, major feels, substance, swearing, angst

A/N: I’m sorry for what I’m about to put you guys through. Thank you for 400 followers ily <3

p.s, my request box is always open

“Hello?”

“Hey?”

(Y/N) stopped pacing, her heartbeat quickening. She glanced at her wall, searching for the time, and she felt her heart ripping in two.

12.03 a.m.

“Hello?” The feminine voice said again, annoyed.

“Who is this?” She whispered, and she didn’t know what she was expecting. A part of her was telling her to end the call for the sake of her mental health, and another part of her was telling her to stay and wait.

“Who is this? You called me,” the voice sighed, and (Y/N) could hear the distant laughter coming from the television in the background. “Look, is this a prank? I’m not going to-”

“Is Rafe there?” She mumbled, and she could feel her forehead starting to sweat. She looked down to her hands, noticing how they were in a fist involuntarily.

“Who is this?” The voice asked again, but her voice perked up. “Sarah?”

“Who is it?” A manly voice suddenly appeared in the distant and (Y/N) widened her eyes, her mind starting to connect the dots. (Y/N) listened as whoever it was struggled to hold the phone while Rafe pushed them off for it before his voice thrummed against her eardrums again. “Who is this?”

She didn’t say anything, but she could feel her tears slowly pooling on the bottoms of her eyes. How could he do this to her? It has been 2 weeks since they last talked to each other, and when she finally tried to make it right again, here he was; with his ex.

“End it,” Rafe said to the girl, and before (Y/N) could say anything she heard the dial sped up, noting the end of the phone call. She stayed in the standing position a few more minutes, her head starting to feel light and she could feel her bearings slowly disappearing.

She hadn’t been eating good since their last fight, and most of her friends were starting to worry for her. Topper and Kelce came to visit her earlier that day, bringing McDonald’s and her favourite chocolate, but all she did was giving them a weak smile and proceeded to eat only a few of the fries before offering them to her father.

And she thought Rafe would be worse since he was the one who’s in the wrong, but based on her latest call, it gave her a clear meaning of how he doesn’t care about them and fixing whatever they had left.

She laughed, letting her tears fell to her cheeks, getting so used to her sore eyes now that they were apart of her look now. Her mind didn’t stop thinking about Rafe and the possibilities of them being together again, and how she hoped against hope that it was all a bit misunderstanding, and that he was just there with his ex for. . .

She didn’t know. There was no good reason for someone to stay in the same room as their ex, good friends or not.

She didn’t fell asleep until 6 in the morning, and she was woken up by the soft rapping against her door by her mother, asking her to wake up to start her day. She opened her eyes for a while, trying to think about what happened previously, and when the thought of what happened a few hours ago occurred in her mind, she closed her eyes to sleep them off again.

“Hey.”

“Huh?” She groaned, trying to open her eyes against the bright sunlight coming from her once always-open window. “Tops? What are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” he said, and watched as she shifted into a seating position. She was a mess; her hair was no longer that shiny (H/C) colour, her eyes were puffy and sore and her cheeks were red and blotchy. She was the epitome of a heartbreak.

“And I’m right. You’re not doing good.”

“I’m tired,” she croaked, and she sighed. Good. Another part of her losing. From her bright face to her hair, now it was the voice.

“And that’s not good,” Topper groaned, standing up and offering his hand to her. “You’ve been like this for 2 weeks, (Y/N), and I’m not letting you go on with this until the summer ends.”

“I’ll kill myself by then,” she mumbled, still not budging from her seat. “You should leave. I don’t want you here.”

Topper stared at her, and retrieved his hands back. (Y/N) glanced up at the blonde boy and sighed, shaking her head.

“I’m sorry, Tops. I don’t mean it like that. I’m just not okay. Thanks for checking up on me,” she quickly said, offering her own hands at him. Topper took her hands in his, pulling her up to her feet and watching her scrunched up sheets, signalling how she had been spending most of her time in there.

“It’s okay,” he said, “But I can’t let you do this to yourself, okay? We miss the bright you.”

“Rafe doesn’t seem to miss me.”

“Fuck him, god,” He groaned, already pulling her to the bathroom. “Look, there’s a party tonight-” he watched her face changed, “Wait! And I don’t think Rafe’s going to be there. Just a small party, you’re going to be there with me and Kelce, and it’s just going to be perfect. You’re in?”

“I look horrible.”

“Nothing a shower can’t fix.”

She groaned, scrunching her face up. “Fine. Only tonight. And you’re staying with me.”

Topper smiled, pulling her into a side hug and letting go of her quickly, pretending to pull a disgusted face only for her to push him away. “Kidding. You still smell good even after not showering for 3 days.”

“I shower.”

“It’s okay to not shower,” he sighed, watching her enter the bathroom and quickly locking the door. He leaned against the door, putting his mouth near the slit so she could hear him. “But it’s not okay to lie.”

(Y/N) laughed genuinely for the first time in 2 weeks, her heart lifting and her skin slowly regaining its colour.

Maybe she does want her old life back, even if there’s no Rafe in it.

. . .

“The news got around fast,” (Y/N) mumbled, throwing her now-shampooed hair over her shoulder. She watched as Kelce laughed, and noticed another pair of eyes on her. She gave the owner a look, to which she quickly looked away, embarrassed to be caught.

“Obx is small,” Topper shrugged, handing her a the red cup filled with Pepsi (she had told him beforehand that she wants to stay sober) with a sly smile. “And you’re the kook’s princess. I’m not surprised.”

(Y/N) scrunched her face at the taste of the carbonated drink, and put the cup aside, putting her hands up to her friends as a ‘wait’ sign before making her way to the drinks counter for a better choice. Her eyes skimmed over the mineral water to the cocktail, and lastly; the shots.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What? You told me I should have fun,” (Y/N) giggled, placing three shot glass on the table and a big glass bottle of Absolute Vodka. “Come on. Tops, you said you missed the old me.”

He swallowed his saliva and sighed, “Fine. One shot only.”

“Fair,” she giggled, pouring the alcohol into each glass and watched as her friends prepared themselves. They downed the whole glass when the counting by Kelce reached ‘3’, scrunching up their faces and feeling their throats burning from the taste.

(Y/N) laughed, her mind woozy and her heartbeat quickening from the thrill of everything. “This is fun.”

Topper laughed along with her, watching the way she was tilting her head. “Yeah. But that’s enough.”

“You’re no fun,” she pouted, and before he could stop her she downed herself another glass and shook her head right after, feeling the liquid slowly making their way down to her empty stomach.

“That’s enough,” Topper repeated, grabbing the bottle in case she was in her rebellion state, but he felt bad when she sat by the sofa with her arms crossed, not looking at him and inconstantly tapping her feet lightly to the music.

“Try something lighter,” he offered, and watched as she kept ignoring him. “You’re impossible.”

“I just want to drink,” she rolled her eyes, still not looking at him. She thought about how drinking was the only way to forget about him because all she wanted was to stop thinking about that certain boy for just a few minutes.

“Okay. But be careful,” he said, handing her the glass bottle. (Y/N) exclaimed in happiness and he couldn’t help but smile at her, watching her drinking straight from the bottle.

“Okay, fuck, you’re a bitch,” he quickly pulled the bottle away when she went for another gulp, “You broke our promise. Now you’re going to be drunk.”

“I’m not drunk,” she groaned, “I’m hardly ever drunk.”

But she felt light. So, so light. She felt like floating around the room, laughing at every joke and fighting with anyone who disagrees with her.

“I know that look,” Topper grunted, and sighed. “Just don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’m not, I’m just going to go to the bathroom, okay?-” she made to stand up, holding her hand up, “And don’t follow me, Tops, that’s sexual harassment.”

Kelce laughed and Topper hit him, muttering angrily about how ‘I was just trying to look after he, man’. His eyes followed her movement to the door on the far left of the house and he sighed, thinking about how this wasn’t his plan to help her at all.

(Y/N) hummed to the song blaring from the speaker as she tried to find the bathroom, being shocked twice to strangers kissing in a small room when she opened the door. She sighed, because she couldn’t guess her bearings anymore; she felt as if she was going around in circles, and there was no exit.

“(Y/N)?”

Her eyes fell on a pair of blue eyes, and she felt her heart stopped.

Is she hallucinating?

“Hey, you’re okay?” He made to touch her, but she flinched and pulled away, her heart banging against her chest.

“No,” she said, trying to get past him only to stumble, feeling so lightheaded she couldn’t differentiate the colours of the wall and the floor. Rafe caught her arms, lifting her up and helping her to walk.

“Let go,” she said, but she leaned onto his warm touch. She felt like crying; she missed his scent; a mixture of cigarette and expensive cologne and his hands around her, and she felt like enclosing herself to him.

“I’m not letting you go, you’ll fall,” he said, still trying to help her walk. “Did you drink anything?”

“What’dya think?” She mumbled, closing her eyes and letting him helped her. She didn’t have the strength to open her eyes anymore, and she wasn’t sure if it was because of the drinks or the sadness in her.

Rafe placed the intoxicated girl on top of a bed in an extra guest bedroom, watching as her chest heaved up and down slowly. He was sure she was sleeping from the way she was breathing and tried to leave her be before she realised that it was him who brought her in, but her fingers were wrapped around his wrist before he could go.

He stared at her as she slowly opened her eyes, and Rafe felt all the hurt in his heart starting to form again. She looked angelic, all soft under his touch, and he had missed her more than anything else in the world.

“Don’t go,” she whispered. “I missed you.”

His breath hitched, because he knew he didn’t deserve her. She was this gold trophy everyone wanted, and it was like he couldn’t take care of it. He sniffed and looked away, not wanting to stare into her eyes again.

“What’s wrong?” She whispered, her voice creaking. “Do you not love me anymore?”

“You know that’s not true,” he forced himself to speak, sighing. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled weakly, pulling him next to her again. “We can be together again, right? Like always? I need you here, Rafe.”

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered back, and watched as her face contorted into anger.

“What do you mean I don’t mean that?” She tried to sir up, holding her head. Rafe tried to help her down again to which she swatted his hands away, “Don’t fucking touch me. I swear to god.”

“You’re drunk,” he tried to console her, putting his hands up in a surrender mode and watched as she backed away from him. “And I get that. I’m sorry. I won’t talk to you again.”

“You can’t just sorry me, fuck, Rafe, you’re an asshole,” she laughed, pointing her fingers at him. “You can’t tell me you’re sorry when you’re back with your fucking ex.”

He raised his brows, looking up to her. “What are you saying? I’m not back. . . oh. Oh my god. No, no, it’s not-” he watched her face changing, “No, no, baby, it’s not what you think it is.”

“I heard her.”

“I was just there, to, um, to talk to her-” he stood up, trying to get closer to her. He wanted to hold her, letting her stare into his eyes and see how sincere he is. In truth, he had been over his ex’s house to talk about how they should both put the failed relationship behind them for the sake of their future lives, but when he went to the toilet, (Y/N) had called him unexpectedly and of course his ex would pick the call up.

She’s always in for drama.

“Talk? Or fuck?”

“God, (Y/N), I swear! I was just talking to her!” He groaned, pulling on his hair and making it more messier than before. “I wanted her to stop talking about me and I’m sorry she answered the call, okay? I was, I, I was in the bathroom.”

“You’re stuttering,” she spitted, anger coursing through her veins. If he thought she would believe his stupid lies again. . .

“I’m nervous, fuck!” He cursed, looking into her eyes to search for any ounce of love she had had for him before. “Please, listen to me, (Y/N), I love you too much to let this go. I can’t let you go. I can’t.”

They were both breathing heavily, coming down from the brief fight they had a few minutes ago. He watched as she scooted closer, cupping his face to look into her eyes again. He sniffed, and he felt his temperature warming up.

“I trusted you, Rafe.”

“You can trust me again, (Y/N), I’m not lying, I swear,” he begged, putting his hands above hers. She closed her eyes, letting the tears under her eyes fell down to her cheeks, and Rafe quickly wiped them away, his heart heavy.

“Please. One more chance. Please.”

“I don’t know-”

“Please. I can’t live without you. I’ve been living off coke and fucking mineral bottles and I just can’t bring myself to do anything without you by my side,” he confessed, his own eyes glassy. “Please. You know you’re all I have.”

(Y/N) swiped her thumb over his lips and watched as he cried. She pulled him into a hug, her own heart heavy from the only choices she had; to go back, or don’t.

“I will always love you, Rafe. You do know that, right?” She whispered into his ear, and he pulled her closer. “And we can always be (Y/N) and Rafe.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, pulling them apart and cupping her face using his large hands. They were both crying now, staring into each other’s life as if on life support. “We can still be them, baby, we can.”

“We can’t.”

His face contorted into confusion, “No, no, we can. I swear. I’ll change. I’ll do anything for you.”

“We can’t, Rafe,” she sighed, holding cupping his own face with her fingers again. “And you know it. We’re just not ready for it.”

“We can,” he begged, his own voice trailing. “We can, baby, we can.”

“I’m always here for you, Rafe,” she said, her voice breaking. “And we’re just not fit for each other.”

“We are,” he tried, but he knew that look. He knew that final look so well. His heart felt heavier than ever now, and all he could think about was running non-stop until he couldn’t breathe.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to live anymore.

He pulled away, shielding himself from her using his back, wiping his tears and standing up from the bed. (Y/N) didn’t try to stop him now, watching him as he walked slowly towards the door.

He turned to look at her again for the last time, muttering a ‘I’m sorry’ before exiting the room. (Y/N) sighed, not wanting to walk out of the room, but she knew she had to get back to Topper before he finally realised her disappearance.

Her head felt better now, although she’ve just done the most hardest thing in her life. She knew their relationship wouldn’t be the same if she had accepted him back, already overseeing the amount of fights they’re going to have in the car, the screams they’ll give to each other. . . the best thing to do was to let him go.

Rafe didn’t think he was joking about wanting to end everything. He lost everything in his world; he lost his father who didn’t care about him, he lost his real mom, his relationship with his sisters and now, her.

He parked his car and stared at the blackness in front of him, his heart almost certain. He was scared, of course, but he didn’t want to think anymore.

The night breeze hit him as he made his way to the edge, hearing the sound of waves filling his eardrums. He took a look at the strong current below him and shuddered.

He thought about her again, his heartbeat beating faster. He saw her smile in his mind, her beautiful eyes and that calming voice.

He smiled, his cheeks wet from his tears, and did what he thought was right.

-

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[storiesbyastrocraft]

hey! would it be okay for you to do yandere hc about DBH characters? im a sucker for all of them urgh

btw take your time about it!! im a simp and i can wait to simp even more 💃

your writing is so cool, i really like it ahah

Ooh I’m so down for that! Thanks so much for the ask anon, hope you enjoy!

Sorry formatting is weird, on mobile until I get back home 😭

DBH Characters as Yanderes

Connor

Kara

Gavin

Connor

It’s likely you never met Connor before he took you, but he has know you for a very long time.

He knows your every move before you make it, and he plans to keep it that way

Ever the fan favorite, Connor is a very loving yandere.

Not that you’d know that until he has you safe in his home.

He hates to see you cry and will gladly do anything to make you happy, and if that involves killing a few people then so be it.

“I know it’s hard sweetheart, but those people are in the past. It’s best for you to forget them.”

Connor would never outright tell you he kills anyone, after all that would make you upset.

That doesn’t mean he will try to hide it though

The blood splattered on his synthetic skin should serve as a warning

Don’t even think of trying to escape

This man hunted down androids and humans alike faster than anyone ever could, you don’t stand a chance.

Honestly good luck hiding anything from this man

One look and he know everything you are feeling and thinking, just one of the many perks of being the most advanced android of your time

Speaking of being an android, Connor is one of the most patient yanderes out there.

One way or another you will be his, no matter how long it takes!

Kara

Kara? A yandere?

Just hear me out!

Kara would snap if something were to happen to Alice.

Once Kara has you, it won’t be easy to escape

Oh and those family members that are worried sick about you?

Let’s just say she learned a thing or two from hiding with Alice

Kara is the type of yandere baby her darling to the extreme

Makes you call her mommy

Everything from the clothes you wear to the food you eat is micromanaged by her

She will gladly feed you and help you get dressed

Expect to spend the majority of the day tight in her arms, exactly where you belong

Kara isn’t one to shower you with gifts, she doesn’t want you to be too spoiled after all, but if you are truly good for her she might just get you something special

Unlike Connor, Kara isn’t all that patient.

You’ll learn quickly to not make her repeat herself.

She is the QUEEN of guilt tripping

“Shh baby, I know it hurts. If you had just listened to mommy this wouldn’t have happened.”

Kara will not hesitate to kill everyone in her path if you somehow manage to escape

There really is no way to escape her once she has you in her arms

However if you do somehow manage to get out, don’t think it will be for long

Kara knows every trick in the book when it comes to hiding for your life, good luck pulling one past her

Once she gets you back you won’t be allowed to do the most simple of tasks

That’s what mommy is here for, silly!

Gavin

Gavin is more inline with your classic yandere.

He fell head over heels for you the first time he saw you.

Being completely honest, he didn’t even bother with real introductions until he had you locked away in his apartment.

Get use to being tied up and gagged, Gavin doesn’t trust easy

While you may be completely helpless, Gavin isn’t a total monster

If he is cooking or watching TV you will be propped up on his couch.

At night he keeps you in the bed with him.

He likes your presence even if you can’t say a word

Gavin loves showering you with little gifts

Mostly your favorite foods considering it’s hard to give you anything else while you are all tied up

Eventually he does start to buy you bigger things like sweet little outfits!

Of course he won’t untie you, but he will GLADLY help you put them on!

“Fuck doll, you look amazing-”

After months and months of staying in his small apartment Gavin may decide to untie you

He takes great pride in the way you struggle to walk after so long

If you do somehow manage to escape, it won’t be pretty.

Gavin has all sorts of experience hunting for people, you won’t last long

Once he gets you back Gavin won’t be NEARLY as kind

Asks are open! Feel free to send some in!

[winter-soldier-vibes]

You Aren’t Somebody? (Bucky x Reader)

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2647

Summary: Bucky knows that the reader has struggled with an eating disorder before, but thought they were doing better. Little does he know, they had just gotten better at hiding it. Until one night, he catches her doing something she had promised she had stopped

Warnings: eating disorder, purging, angst, fluff

Tags @abitgryffindorky @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @buckfics @barnesplums @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @thundering-barnes

Main Masterlist

A/N: It’s finals week and I am running on energy drinks, reading fanfiction, and longgggg hot showers. But the semester is almost over, and then I have no obligations aside from my hobbies. I see the requests and I’m working on them I promise! I have a list of all the requests that I get, and I am working through them I PROMISE!!! Thank you all for all of your support.

A/N 2: This deals with heavy and dark themes of mental illness. The specific warnings are above. If you feel that in any way reading this will be harmful to your mental health and your journey, PLEASE skip it. I write from my own experience and I know what I would’ve wanted to hear in these situations, and writing/reading fics helps me feel comforted. This fic is based on one experience more specifically than most of my fics, so I apologize if it’s not exactly the same as your experience. This is what I would’ve wanted to hear. If you need or want someone to talk to, vent to, or get advice from, feel free to message me, really. I’m here! <3

------------------------------

Bucky was standing in front of you, blocking the door. His piercing blue eyes were locked on you, your own refusing to meet his. 

He wanted answers that you were not ready to give.

“Y/n, please. I just want to talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky.”

He looked you up and down. Your hair was in a messy bun, a few loose strands sticking to your tear stained cheeks. Your eyes were puffy, and your face was red, voice raspy. He took a deep breath. “You told me you would tell me if it was getting bad again.”

“You promised.”

You closed your eyes. He wasn’t wrong, you had promised. But that was because you never thought you’d see the day when you were purging again. You thought you had gotten over it. You really thought that this time you wouldn’t slip up.

------------------

You had been struggling with an eating disorder for a while. The cause, you weren’t quite sure. An innocent diet soon turned into a competition for yourself, but the end goal was never there. At first you had thought it was just about the weight and how you looked, but then you found that some of your behavior patterns were tied to your emotional ones. 

Stress was the major trigger, you had come to learn.

Whether it was a mission gone wrong, you getting injured, someone else getting injured, or even just basic social interactions you thought could’ve gone better, you found yourself inclined to comfort yourself with food. 

Until you panicked, which would lead you to the bathroom with music blaring and water running to cover up the noises of your retching. 

You hated it, and every time you told yourself it was the last time. But the more you did it, the more you felt the urge to do it. At first it was triggered by large stressors, but now smaller things could trigger you to want to throw up. You tried to keep it hidden, unaware of the true reasons for why you did it. You were able to help yourself sometimes, it wasn’t worth bringing anyone else into. 

You couldn’t explain it to yourself, so how were you supposed to explain it to anybody?

The best way that you had figured out how to describe it was that whenever you felt a negative emotion, you could soothe it in a physical way with food, especially with all the warm comfort foods that are known. But at the same time, that feeling lasted as long as you could taste, and you would feel guilty as you felt full. When you threw up, it felt like you were also throwing up the negative emotions. 

But when you said it out loud, it didn’t make sense. When people are sick and throwing up it’s one of the most uncomfortable feelings ever. Inducing it hurts sometimes, but it’s almost not as bad. Like you know it’s coming, and you’re in control of what’s happening and you could stop at any point. And there had been times where you could soothe yourself in other ways, and you knew your own physical limits. You knew when you had to stop for your own health.

Until you couldn’t stop.

Which is what led to you fainting on a mission after purging too much. Your electrolytes had bottomed out and you almost had a heart attack at an age no one should. Bucky, your boyfriend who was on the mission with you, had put it together when the first words out of your mouth upon gaining consciousness were “Is this a glucose drip?” while tugging at the IV.

He hadn’t been mad, not exactly. He wasn’t mad at you but he was furious with himself for not noticing, and for making you feel as though you couldn’t tell him. You assured him that you did trust him, but he wished you had come to him before you could’ve gotten yourself, and those on the mission, seriously hurt or killed. 

Nonetheless, you still didn’t know how to talk about it.

“Can you try to tell me about it?” he asked gently, running a hand through your hair. He held you to his chest, you unable to meet his eyes.

“It won’t make any sense,” you had said, tears glazing your eyes.

“I want to understand. Can you help me understand?”

You paused for a moment. “It’s a long story and I don’t know where to start. There’s so much going wrong.” you had said, tears beginning to streak down your face.

“I have all the time for you. And it doesn’t have to make sense, these things rarely do. I’m not here to judge you, I’m here to listen.”

And true to his word, he had. He had listened and held you while you tried to talk about what you could. He didn’t understand everything, he naturally had a ton of questions, but they weren’t for that moment. He had promised to help you the best that he could, and you had promised to try and tell him whenever you felt the urges get too strong. And if you couldn’t, to tell him after.

It was easier to talk to Bucky than anyone else. Not because he was your boyfriend, but because he seemed to understand you more than anyone else could. He had his own share of mental health struggles. Neither of you knew exactly what the other was going through, but you both understood that it was easy to feel alone and guilty even though you couldn’t control it. 

It was rough, but he was never mad. He was sometimes firm, and sometimes you had gotten angry with him. Only to later apologize to him with tears in your eyes. He was never mad with you. He understood that this was something internal. Upon research he had done and conversations he had had with Bruce, he understood that this had nothing to do with him. Some people thought eating disorders were about getting attention when it was one of the furthest things from the truth.

All he could do was love you and be there for you.

And to your surprise, talking about it did help.it took a long time, months, of long and hard conversations, panic attacks, slip ups, and really dark days. But it got to the point where Bucky felt that you were doing better, making an effort to tell you how proud he was and how much he loved you. 

And you were doing better, in a way. But you had been slipping up more recently, and you hadn’t told Bucky. You didn’t know how. After going the longest you’d ever had between slip ups, you found yourself retching over the toilet. You would have gone to Bucky but he had been away on a mission that was extended a few days. You couldn’t interrupt him because your feelings were too much to handle. People needed his help more than you did.

You were going to tell him, but he had been so tired when he had come back. He needed his time to relax, and it wasn’t the right time to tell him. And the next day when he was rested, you felt that it was irrelevant. Any negative feeling you had felt the day before had since past, and you didn’t see the point in bringing it up today. It would worry Bucky, he wouldn’t want to go on missions, and you weren’t going to do that to him. Besides, it was just one time.

Right?

You soon found yourself purging when Bucky wasn’t around. If he had gone out with Steve, if he was on a mission, or if he was down in the gym you found yourself taking more opportunities to give into your urges. It wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been, but you were spiraling. But at this point you had been slipping up so many times, you had been so secretive about it. 

It would kill Bucky inside to know that you were hiding this from him again. He would feel like you didn’t trust him. You trusted him with your life.

You just didn’t want to let him down. Not again, not when he had explicitly told you to come to him and you had been blatantly ignoring that.

You wanted to tell him, you did. But you couldn’t let him being so proud of you be based on a lie.

One day you were hunched over the toilet, legs sahking and tears streaming down your face from exertion. Bucky was away on a mission, so you didn’t even bother with the music or the water. What you hadn’t anticipated was him coming back hours earlier than he should’ve

The mission had gone much more smoothly than anticipated, which everyone was happy about. Bucky was glad he would get a few more hours with you. He had gone up to your shared room and let himself in, surprised to see you weren’t there. But then he heard you coughing from behind a closed bathroom door.

He felt like someone had punched him in the gut. You had been doing so well, what had happened?

He walked over to the door, knocking on it and calling out your name. He heard you muffle a small fuck before he knocked again.

“Y/n please, let me in.”

He heard the toilet flush and the sink turn on, you on the other side washing your face. You could feel the tears from exertion be replaced by ones of shame and embarrassment, biting your lip slightly. What the fuck were you going to tell him? 

When you finally turned off the water, you rubbed your face with a towel, sighing heavily into it. When you took it away, you looked long and hard at the doorknob. 

Bucky sighed on the other side of the door. “Y/n please. I’m not mad. We’ve been here before, I just wanna talk to you.”

You closed your eyes for a moment, taking a breath before you made your expression nuetral and opened the door. 

Bucky’s eyes immediately saddened when he took you in. your face was still red and there were tears in your eyes. You had tried to put up a front, he could tell that too. Sometimes you got angry with him because you didn’t want to be vulnerable. He was prepared because like he said - he’d helped you before.

Before he could say anything you crossed your arms. “You’re home early,” you said coldly.

“Y/n.” 

“How’d the mission go? Well, I assume.” you tried to slip past Bucky but he was blocking the door. 

Bucky took a deep breath. “Yeah, yeah, the mission went well.” He wanted to be gentle with you. “But how are you?”

You shrugged, trying to appear oblivious. “I’m fine,” voice wavering slightly as you looked away.

“Y/n please. You’re not fine. Can you tell me what happened?”

“The same thing that always happens” you said bitterly. “Something stupid comes up, I start feeling like shit about myself and I ignore it until I’m puking it up with everything else, alright? It’s the same story, different time, and now I have you looking at me all hurt just like I was worried about which is why I couldn’t tell you!” you exclaimed, eyes filled with anger and tears. Bucky looked at you as if you had just punched him in the face. He would’ve much preferred that you had.

“Y/n.”

You shook your head, trying to get through the door that he was blocking. “Bucky, just let me through the door, forget it.”

“Y/n just talk to me please, I -”

“JUST LET ME THROUGH THE GODDAMN DOOR.” You yelled, surprising Bucky. It had been a while since you had gotten this angry or defensive. But he stood his ground. Bucky was standing in front of you, blocking the door. His piercing blue eyes were locked on you, your own refusing to meet his. 

He wanted answers that you were not ready to give.

“Y/n, please. I just want to talk about this”

“There’s nothing to talk about, Bucky,” you said, feeling tears threatening to spill over. 

He took a deep breath. “You told me you would tell me if it was getting bad again.”

You closed your eyes and felt a pang in your stomach. “Bucky, I - “

“You promised,” he said, voice cracking.

You shook your head. “Why do I have to talk about this. It’s not like I’m hurting anybody” 

“You’re hurting yourself, y/n.” he said calmly.

You shook your head and narrowed your eyes slightly, tears falling. “That’s different Bucky, you know it is.”

“You aren’t somebody?”

You looked at him for a moment before a sob escaped your body, leaning on the counter for support as you brought a hand to your mouth. Bucky quickly came up behind you and pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you. You started crying harder, embarrassed and ashamed. 

“I’m sorry Bucky, I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t know how to tell you, I -”

“Hey it’s okay, it’s alright y/n, I’m here.” Bucky kept whispering reassurances in your ears, rubbing a hand up and down your back. 

After some time passed, you didn’t know how long, you were able to calm down enough to take some shaky breaths, hiding your red face in Bucky’s chest.

“When did this start happening again?” he asked softly

“I don’t know… few weeks at least, not really sure.”

He took a breath, trying to stay calm. A few weeks and he hadn’t suspected anything, and you were alone. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You were on a mission, I couldn’t interrupt that.”

“Why didn’t you tell me when I got back?” he pressed gently.

“You were so tired Bucky - ”

“Y/n.” he said more firmly.

You paused for a moment, knowing he wouldn’t take those answers. If they were truly the reason then you would’ve told him the next day or the day after, as soon as the opportunity came. There was more to why you waited, and Bucky knew that. 

“I didn’t want to disappoint you,” you whispered. 

You heard Bucky sigh. He was angry with himself, for not being approachable to you. All he wanted was to make you feel safe enough to come to him, and to hear that you hadn’t because you thought he had expectations for you crushed him. “Y/n, I told you you could tell me about this. When have I ever been disappointed or angry with you?”

“You haven’t. You were just so proud and I - I didn’t want to ruin that for you. I didn’t want to tell you that you were proud of a lie.”

“Hey, hey look at me.” Hesitantly you looked up to meet his eyes. “None of this was you lying. You put in the hard work day after day, and I told you I was here to support you. But I never did the work for you. You did that. I’m proud of you and I always will be because you’re a fighter. It’s okay to have bad days, it’s okay to slip up. It’s okay to need a little help too, and that’s what I’m here for. A slip up doesn’t erase all the hard work you’ve put in before. I’m proud of you for the progress you’ve made, and of the work you put in. This doesn’t change anything sweetheart.”

He pulled you back into his chest.

“I’ll always be proud of you.”

[jeonfiles]

better left unsaid - jjk

genre: angst, rebounds

pairings: jungkook x reader (ft. namjoon)

warnings: arguing, alcohol, profanity, break ups, light smut, use of drugs, jungkook is a fucking dick, jungkook has major attachment issues, toxic relationships, oc cries a lot, namjoon has a heart of gold, unrequited love

synopsis: you knew you shouldnt have given him that second chance, not the third or the fourth either. no matter how much you try he always slithers his way underneath your sheets, arms wrapped around you.

word count: 2.7k

music: into your arms, so it ends?, you will fade, thinkin bout you, julia, my insecurities not yours, fuck u, goodluck, my dear i will think of you

note: uhh ive never written a y/n fic so bare with me, if u listen to the music you’ll be able to feel the story a lot more so yeah if u have time u should, not proof read

Light coming through the cracks of the blinds, making you squint your eyes when the daylight beams into your eyes, head resting on the kitchen island Looking up, you saw the clock ticking on the wall, 11:32 am.

You had stayed up till 5 am, waiting for him to come home, but seemingly, he never did. Reaching for your phone, you saw 4 missed calls from the one and only,

Jeon Jungkook, saved in your phone as “Koo <3″, Rows of messages too, all from the same contact.

Koo <3 [05:34 am]

baby pkck me up pleseee

im so wsated

Koo <3 [06.46am]

dont be mad at me jsut pick me up

i dont knw hewere the fuck i am

i love you

Koo <3 [07:31 am]

i got a rde home i’ll be home by 12

i need to talk to someone frsit

im sorry if i woke ypu dont be worried

You took a few moments to collect your thoughts, but there wasn’t much to collect. This whole thing, was a routine by now.

Standing up to make yourself a cup of coffee, you could literally not feel your own backside, you were so sore from the barstool you had been sitting on all night, and it made you groan in pain.

Two coffee cups right beside the kitchen sink, which you couldn’t bring yourself to clean up, because it was from the last time you had coffee together, which was 2 weeks ago.

The inside of the cup had a coffee crust at the top, and both your lip tint marks on the outside.

When you finish your cup of coffee while watching a bad telenovela, you go sit in your favorite chair and pull out a few books from the backpack hanging on the chair next to you, getting ready to get some studying done.

For a few seconds you imagine Jungkook hanging over your shoulder laughing at the way you write your A-s and R-s, or the way you always sign your homework at the bottom of the page.

And when you open them, there’s no one there. The only sound is from the refrigerator, making refrigerator noises.

You had met Jungkook 3 years ago, when you were at college orientation, senior year of high school. He also wanted to attend Yonsei, just like you.

And when he whispered to you about how bored he was, you couldn’t help but giggle, and then you got yelled at.

It was worth it though, because everyone was jealous of you afterwards,the  Jeon Jungkook had talked to you.

Jungkook was an all-rounder as they called it; great physique, intelligent, charismatic and great at sports.

And god, he had a beautiful face, and such a filthy mouth, and it didn’t go long before you gave in to his seductive ways and slept with him. The morning after, he wasn’t in bed with you, and your heart sank.

Luckily, he was in the kitchen making you breakfast.

It was all bliss from there, showering you with love, gifts and kisses for two years, and you even ended up moving in together.

And now? You barely remember what he sounds like, smells like and is like.

A distant memory, just as distant as him.

Your train of thought was suddenly interrupted as you heard 3 knocks on your door. The exact same way he had always knocked when he had forgotten (or lost) his keys.

And even though you should have let him suffer a little, you rushed to the door to open it, and in front of you, was your biggest nightmare.

It was your love, crying his eyes out, bleeding from one of many cuts on his face, looking nearly dead. He collapsed into your arms, and you could only utter a few words, along the lines of:

“How could you do this to us?”

As he was laying curled up in a ball on the couch, face plastered up, ice bag on his knee, wrapped up in a blanket, you realized. this was your que to cry.

So, you did. You cried in silence, sitting across the room from him. You weren’t mad at him for coming home late, or getting in another fight, probably the 5th just these past months, you had gotten used to that by now.

There was a whole other reason that made you cry.

He smelled like Victorias Secret Bombshell, you recognized the scent because it used to be your favorite,  however, now you’ve moved onto something less sweet, and more elegant, like Caroline Herrera.

He smelled like someone who wasn’t you, his girlfriend.

He smelled like another girl.

It didn’t hurt as much as you thought it would. Maybe because the Jungkook that had come home to you that morning wasn’t your Jungkook.

Your Jungkook was varsity jackets, star of the american football team (which your school was known for), selfless and humorous, and he would always take care of you.

Your Jungkook was not ungroomed hair, cigarettes and worsening grades. He was not cold and lifeless, and he would never make you cry.

Despite this, you were carding your fingers though his hair, thumb wiping away the blood on his lips while he was sound asleep as you slowly fell asleep next to him.

Maybe it was time to let him go. 

Maybe.

You woke a few hours later from your phone vibrating.

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:01 pm]

Hey Y/N! Have you started working on the statistics assignment?

If you haven’t, would you be interested in meeting at the library tomorrow? You’re really smart and i’m kinda struggling ://

You [07:03 pm]

i finished it yesterday, but if you buy me coffee i’ll come help you hehe

Kim Namjoon (school) [07:04 pm]

You’re the best, I’ll bring you a machiatto!! :D

Maybe it would be nice for you to get out of the house, even though you hate the thought of it, and you would much rather just swim in your own sorrow.

But you did go out the next day, and you helped Namjoon get a decent grade, enough to pass with good margines, he thanked you by taking you out for ramen at a convenial store not too far away.

You thanked him for the ramen with a trip to the museum, and he thanked you for the museum trip with a picnic in the park at night, which led you to crying over Jungkook in his embrace, telling him every single little detail.

He made you realize it was time to let Jungkook go and make room for new people to enter your life.

You went home that night, and you found Jungkook passed out on the couch, and you could genuienly feel your chest tighten. Soft features which stood out under the moonlight glow, disheveled brown locks which hung down in his eyes.

He was gorgeous, until you saw the credit card on the table next to three bottles of soju and an empty beer can on the floor. And you knew what he had used the credit card for, though you didn’t want to say it out loud.

You cleaned everything up, and you threw the residue of the white powder right in the trash can, and you recycled his bottles and cans before finally, nudging him to wake up.

“Jungkook, wake up.” You spat coldly, or at least you attempted to.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes before opening his eyes, and s huge smile on his face. “Y/N, you’re home!” He reached to kiss you, but you backed away.

“Y/N?” Jungkook questioned, he didn’t quite understand what your intentions were.

“Don’t try anything Jungkook. This was your last chance, and you fucked it up, again.” The room turned ice cold. “I’m getting you help Jungkook, you need help. And then...”

He understood what kind of help you meant, and since he had now sobered up, he agreed, nodding. “And then...?” 

“And then.” Your words were ludged in your throat. “And then I’m leaving you.”

His whole face dropped, smile turned into the frowniest frown you had ever seen, and it was all silent before his lower lip starts trembling, and his eyes start turning glassy.

“It’s alright. Sorry for burdening you.” Was all he could say before tears rushed down his cheeks, and he started shaking.

So you did what you always had done, and you wrapped your arms around him, head resting on your chest as he sobbed.

“Is there anyone else?” he cried out before another wave of sobs hit him.

This exact question made your stomach hurt, and your throat burn. You really had no idea.

Or you did, but you didn’t want to.

You loved Jungkook so much, but you couldn’t be with him in this state. So you did what every rational person would do in this situation.

“Yeah.”

You lied.

“Oh ok. I don’t have the right to be mad do I?”

You shake your head no.

“I love you Y/N. I’m sorry I’m so messed up.”

“It’s ok.” was all he said before he fell asleep in your arms again.

That night you slither your way out of his embrace and you pack your suitcase in the dark, bringing all your essentials, trying to be as quiet as possible so you didn’t wake Jungkook.

Packing enough for two weeks or so, you make the bed and leave your t-shirt “accidentally” in the bathroom, and you make sure all his clothes are folded, and then you sort his pencil case, throwing out old pens and worn out erasers.

You leave a grocery list on the counter, and you tuck him in good under the blankets after you took his jeans and socks off so he could sleep comfortably.

You placed his vitamins and medicine by the refrigerator so he’ll see it when he goes to grab something to eat. 

Puffed up pillows, a pair of sweatpants, t-shirt and underwear is now placed neatly on his bed. Then you walk into the kitchen again, and you see Jungkook still sound asleep, sniffling a little still.

There’s one last thing, and it makes you cry. It makes you sob so loud you cover your mouth and muffle the sound you make. Sinking to the floor, your whole body is in contact with the cold tiles.

Only a year ago you could never imagine yourself even shedding a single tear over something as small as this, but here you were, on the edge of a panic attack.

Two worn out, matching couple mugs still placed by the counter. one if the first things you two had bought together, as well as the necklace hanging around your neck.

Finally, you stopped crying and started cleaning the mugs, lip trembling as you dried them and placed them in the back of the cabinet.

You unhooked your necklace and laid it down on the counter, and the biggest lump formed in your throat.

Actually, there’s a little detail you forget. 

You kiss Jungkook on the forehead and leave a note on the coffee table.

“Dear Jungkook,

If you want to make this up to me (this does not mean a new chance!!) you call the number at the bottom of the page. No matter what happens, I’ll always have room for you in my heart. You even have your own little VIP lobby in there. And - if it’s urgent, call. I still care for you, and I always have. You were the best boyfriend I’ve had, but good things always come to and end, don’t they? Anyways, I’m tired so this letter fucking sucks, but deep down you know how much I love you. Remember to get groceries, shower, get fresh air and study. If I forgot something you can keep it, as long as you call the number and tell them you’re my friend. They’ll help you love. Try and get a part time job too, your student loan and your dad’s money won’t last forever. Good luck Koo. Hwaiting!!

-L/N Y/N <33″

You cringe when you think of the letter’s contents, before you roll out your suitcase out of the front door, whispering a faint “Goodnight Love.” as you close and lock the door behind you.

Standing by the elevator, you cry again. This time, louder, but you still reach for your phone and type out a text to the newly edited contact in your phone.

You [02:13 am]

coming outside now, im a crying mess and im super cold, is your car heated?

sorry for making you wait btw :((

Joonie <3 [02:13 am]

dont worry about the crying part, i’ll hold you. and yeah car is heated, so waiting here wasnt all that bad. you ready for this?

You  [02:14 am]

i have no idea but i cant stay here any longer and i trust you sooo

lets start our new chapter. eh?

4 months later...

He had been good to you, great even.

You had been on expensive dates, picnics, had heart to heart conversations, and he’d been so understanding.

Today, it was your 2 month anniversary, and he had asked you on a magnificent date, which he had planned every second of.

At the end of the day, you told him how you don’t love him. He said it was alright. Namjoon loved you, so much, yet he understood you needed time.

You went to sleep that day, warm in Namjoon’s embrace, wondering how Jungkook was doing. 

You felt bad, but you missed Jungkook.

You were both with someone new now, and you knew he was in good hands with someone stable enough to care for him.

Before your eyes closed shut, you shed a few quiet tears and hoped that you’d fall in love with Namjoon soon, and deep down you knew you would.

[hannie-dul-set]

araw-araw [na jaemin]

(EVERY DAY)

part of “the puhon playlist” collection

SUMMARY | mahiwaga— someone or something that you’ll choose every single day no matter the circmstance. and for you, that was na jaemin. even if time decides to set you apart PAIRING | na jaemin x female! reader GENRE | childhood friends to lovers! au, college! au, romance, slow-ish burn, fluff, humor, tiny angst, biology major jaemin and art major mc HEHE WARNINGS | excessive swearing, insecurities, some sex jokes LMAO, i project a lot in this i’m sorry JSFJG WORD COUNT | 14.5k TAGLIST | @prettyjaems @lcvemark @shra-vasti @danishmiilk @probablygonnahurtsomebody @jccv @rebel-lious-alien @dalkomhanchocolateicecream @kthpurplesyou @fullsuhnshine​ @dejvns @nctzun @sweetjaemss @sehunniepot @wownajaemin @emoshishi @holywaterbetch @ukiyoneo @injunified @huangxx​ @jaehyunnie3​ @nct-writers​ @czennienet​ @neowritingsnet​ @kpopscape​

a/n: HERE IT IS.... MY PRIDE AND JOY JHSFJSD gahh okay i’m gonna keep my rambling to a minimum but this fic is very close and very dear to my heart and if it isn’t obvious that i’m in love with jaemin then this fic will make it obvious LMAO

also do yourself a favor and listen to ben&ben’s araw-araw on loop while reading this!! adds to the ~vibe~ hehe

Five-thirty-seven in the morning, grey clouds stretching throughout the sky as you peeked outside the window, falling right above oceans and buildings and people that you couldn’t even see. You sighed as you sank deeper into your chair, closing your eyes and adjusting your earbuds to clear your thoughts that were brought about by your sudden move.

You felt a nudge from beside you, coming from your mother (your dad was long knocked out since earlier), and so you politely pulled the earbuds away. “Excited to come back to Korea?” she asked. You simply responded with a smile and hum.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like the idea of returning— it was the prospect that it did not even feel like you were returning in the first place. Indifference was what you felt. After moving to Los Angeles when you were twelve because of your father’s job, you had to say goodbye to all your friends living in your hometown, all the traditions and customs that you were used to, and all the memories that you have built up in order to get used to a new environment. Seven years later when you thought you were just about to fit in with the west, your father comes out with the news of going back to Seoul again.

So it was difficult to manage a full smile.

You had a thought as you looked down through the window, recognizing a few of the landmarks that stood out: how strange it was to have somewhere that used to be home feel so foreign.

Just as you were about to put in your earbuds back in, your mother suddenly brightened, looking at you with a large smile on her face, eliciting your curious gaze.

“Oh! Do you still remember your old friend Jaemin?”

A smile tugged at your lips. How could you forget him?

Na Jaemin. Nana. Jaems. Your childhood best friend for six years until you were forcibly shipped all the way to LA. You still remembered how hesitant you were to tell him that you were moving because you didn’t want him to cry— only to have you crying and refusing to let go of him until your parent's pried you off of him at the airport. He assured you while wiping away your tears that you’d still get to see him one day.

Maybe that day would actually be one of these days.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, fiddling with the drawstrings of your jacket. “Why? I haven’t been in contact with him for years now.”

“His mom and I talked the other day and I told her that we’re moving back! And just earlier, she told me that Jaemin volunteered to pick us up from the airport so we won’t have to take a cab. Isn’t that great? You’d get to be reunited with your old friend again.”

“Ah,” you paused for a moment, in thought, just before pressing your lips together into a tight smile. “Yeah, it would be nice to see him again.”

That was what you said, but even until you left the plane, lugging your baggage across the cold floors of the airport with your music at full volume to drown out the noise, you were actually rather conflicted about meeting him again. A lot could happen within seven years, and therefore there was no assurance that things would still be the same. You weren’t sure if he’d still be the same sweet boy that was determined to fight the park swings after you fell and cried, if he’d still be the same kid that stopped talking to you for three days because you tricked him into eating a strawberry flavored lollipop. Maybe he’d still be, maybe he wouldn’t, but it was exactly that uncertainty that made you feel uneasy.

Still, there was still a hint of excitement, a string that tugged your heart away from all the uneasiness, just enough to bring a smile to your face at the thought of seeing him again.

“Y/N, let’s go?”

Your father called out to you and you didn’t even realize that you have actually stopped walking amidst your musings.

“Oh, yeah I—” you stumbled in between the ever moving airport crowd, looking down to see your shoelace had become undone, and so you let go of your suitcase. “You two go ahead, I’ll catch up in a sec!”

You ducked down, right beside the large, grey case to fix it, lips pursed in concentration. People passed by without minding you too much, but at one instance, just as you had finished retying your shoelace, your suitcase moved away from you with a shadow looming from above. Panic struck, and so you jolted up, instincts forcing your hand to move, quickly grabbing the handle. There was another hand resting on it. Your eyes moved up to meet with the culprit's.

Weirdly enough, he was just as shocked as you are.

Even weirder— he looked way, way too attractive to be a thief. Or maybe that was the modus these days? Still, you harshly dragged back the suitcase, ripping it away from his grasp with a glare. “What the fuck—”

At that moment, you recalled your mother’s words. Jaemin volunteered to pick us up from the airport. This guy looked a little too much like your old friend from your old neighborhood.

It felt like you were looking into the exact same large, dark eyes that used to be always accompanied by a pretty smile, now matched by a mouth hanging slightly agape from surprise. He even had the same dark hair that always messily fell over his eyes. There was a moment of pause in between the rush of bodies, the both of you in a frozen trance staring at each other until you had finally realized that motherfucker— this was Na Jaemin.

When did he get so hot?

“I—”

He flashed you a smile. The same damned smile. It brought you to the conclusion that seven years really didn’t do anything except make him far too attractive for his own good. All of a sudden you felt self-conscious about your own appearance as you gawked at him. God really liked to play favorites, huh?

You could see him say something, his lips moving just enough to represent a few words, but it was muffled thanks to the blaring music. Your confusion reflected clearly on your face contorting, and Jaemin only shook his head and laughed before reaching his hands to your face, bringing you to a momentary halt of haywire because what the actual fuck was he doing.

“You shouldn’t listen to music too loudly in public,” he said, pulling your earbuds out of your ears and gingerly placing them into your open palms with a smile. Holy fuck, his voice got so deep. “I’ve been calling out to you since earlier, but you couldn’t hear. Let’s go, your parents are waiting.”

Before you could even try to recollect yourself from the sudden crashing of events, Jaemin took your suitcase in your stead, leading you to his car.

If you still weren’t sure whether or not this was Na Jaemin from your past, you were now because although a bit watered down, he was just as excessively weird and sweet as he was ages ago. You found yourself feeling stupid for even doubting it in the first place. Of course, he was still the same; he even chirps your name in the same way as he always did before.

“There we go,” with a huff, the trunk came to a close. He threw your suitcase in there after seeing your mini struggle episode with far too little effort for your peace of mind. “You should just ask me next time. Okay, Y/N?”

“Thanks,” you gave him a small nod, flustered when he pinched your left cheek while making a questionable noise, and he opened the car door for you to enter.

Maybe it was you that had changed.

You were fairly quiet throughout the car ride while your parents and Jaemin decided to catch up after everything, only listening and giving your reactions whenever needed. You weren’t a morning person and your jetlag wasn’t doing you of any help either.

“You’re in your third year, right Jaemin?” your father asked, sitting at the front seat as your mother and you sat behind.

“Yep, yep,” he happily replied.

“Time really does fly fast, doesn’t it?” your mother joined in. “What uni do you go to, Jaemin?”

“Ah,” he sounded, eyes still directed on the road. “NCT U. It’s the closest at home, and I didn’t really wanna move out.”

“Oh, what a coincidence! Y/N isn’t that where you’re planning on going, too?”

“Really?” you could see Jaemin’s eyes brighten from the mirrors. “Y/N, do you want me to help you with your requirements? Have you enrolled already? I can give you a tour if you want!”

He’s really the same. You thought, smiling. “It’s fine, Jaemin. I already enrolled and took care of everything online.”

“But I should still tour you, though!” he retorted, the pout and whine evident in his voice. “The campus is really big so you might get lost. Ah, but aren’t universities in the States much bigger? I can also introduce you to some of my friends if you like.”

Jaemin went on for a while, telling your parents not to worry and promising that he’d take care of you throughout your college life here in Korea despite your protests that you could very much take care of your own self. Eventually, your mother asked about his major, and his animated expressions dimmed down into a slight bashfulness after answering that he was taking biology. You joined the conversation upon hearing that. “You said back then that you wanted to be a surgeon, right?”

With a shy smile, he nodded, and at that moment you felt a rush of awe for your childhood friend. Your parents seemed to have reacted the same way seeing as he was growing a little more embarrassed. It was amazing how he held on to the same dream he held since he was a kid— the amount of passion and dedication he must have for it. You on the other hand—

“What about you, Y/N?”

You jumped at the sudden subject switch. “Oh, I’m—” a pause in your statement. “I’m… taking an arts course.”

“Wow! As expected, Y/N is as cool as always,” he doted, which caused you to flush.

“It’s— it’s not really that amazing, it’s just the only thing I’m kinda good at so—”

“No, no, no. Y/N, you shouldn’t say that,” he scolded, clicking his tongue while his hands remained on the wheel. Your mother was beside you yet he was the one doing the mom nagging. “Who is that again? Bob Ross? Leonardo DiCaprio? You’re gonna be much much much better than them someday, I just know it! I have something called Nana vision, you know.”

You stifled a quiet laugh, not having the heart to correct him that it was not DiCaprio. “Does your Nana vision also see that we’re already almost at the complex?”

“Oh!”

At your words, Jaemin’s attention was now a hundred percent back on driving, profusely apologizing for getting distracted. You could see his ears slightly reddening from your seat which lasted until the end of the drive. Jaemin helped your family carry everything to your apartment on the eighth floor, even volunteering to help you unpack. Your mother firmly declined, however, insisting him to take a rest after all his help, but she did invite him and his parents over for dinner tomorrow. A little reunion of sorts.

“Six in the evening, right?”

“Yes. You should head back home now, Jaemin. Thank you for everything.”

He shot a bright smile before readying to march outside. “We’ll be here by five!”

She laughed at him, shaking her head, and proceeded to look for you inside the mess of the living room. You were about to disappear inside your room, luggage in hand to unpack, but she quickly dragged you back by the ear. “Go see him out the door!” she whisper-yelled, and so you did. Fortunately, he was stopped by your father before he got to leave, so you took this opportunity to smoothly stride beside him as he slipped past the door when he said goodbye. The door clicked to a close. He raised a brow at you.

“Mother’s orders,” you answered.

“So you wouldn’t have gone out if she didn’t tell you to?” he huffed, pouting. “And I was really happy to see you, too. I think I might have to take that back.”

You rolled your eyes at him, laughing, and eventually you made it to the end of the hallway. “Too late. You can’t take back your happiness. It’s good to see you again, Jaemin.”

The both of you stopped right in front of the elevator, and you waited for him to depart, but he didn’t. He had his arms crossed over his chest, accompanied by an expression on his face that you couldn’t quite tell if it was hurt, disappointment, or offense. Probably all three. Definitely all three.

“What? are you putting up a wall between us? Don’t I mean anything to you anymore?” he groused, nose scrunching. “What happened to Jaems? Nana? Y/N, you’re seriously hurting me over here.”

Laughing at the way he was sticking his frown right into your face to prove his point, you playfully shoved him off, pushing him into the elevator after all of his complaints even though he was the one moving his feet, anyway. You missed him, that much you could conclude, therefore you decided to stop his whining just before the elevator doors came to a close.

“See you tomorrow, Nana.”

You grinned, not missing the way his eyes lit up in between the small gap. You really did miss him, and you were lucky enough to have him as a small memory to remind you that this place was indeed home.

Maybe it wasn’t just Jaemin that you had missed. The entire family was just a smack in the face of early childhood nostalgia that you nearly cried (thank god you didn’t) when Mrs. Na buried you into a bone crushing hug the moment she saw you when you opened the door. You were really happy to be back— even when you weren’t exactly sure before.

“Mom, I think you’re suffocating, Y/N,” Jaemin pointed out as he left his shoes in front of your doorstep, walking inside with his father following behind him.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just couldn’t believe that this is you!” she coddled, and somewhere in between Jaemin found himself beside you. “I think I have pictures of you two when you were younger, hold on—”

Mrs. Na was pushed forward by her husband as she dug through her phone for a decade old Facebook posts of you and Jaemin (you hoped she wouldn’t remember you had an entire album). The older man ruffled your hair as he passed by with a fond smile, disappearing into the dining table where your parents were preparing and leaving you and Jaemin behind.

He was looking at you. Questionably so.

“What?”

“It’s not fair,” he whined. “I didn’t get to hug you yesterday.”

Oh my god, you shook your head, grabbing the sleeve of his mint jacket and leading him to where your parents were to help. “You’ll have more opportunities, you loser. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

Jaemin was speechless for a moment as he let you drag him along, but a happy smile broke through and he matched your steps halfway.

“Yeah,” he agreed. You weren’t going anywhere.

Dinner followed the usual sequence of events: reminiscing about the past, asking both parties what they have been up to, and of course talks about the future. During the meal, Jaemin asked when your classes were starting (next week), and he proposed his promised tour to be held this Tuesday— two days from now— because he didn’t have a lot of classes that day. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, neither did your parents, so you ended up agreeing.

Unfortunately for you, your mother pulled out the ancient photo album of the past right after dinner, and the stark contrast between yours and Jaemin’s reactions were also album worthy. By the end of it, you were sure that smoke was emitting from your ears because your good friend had an affinity with screaming over how cute you were, even going as far as stealing one of your baby pictures right before they decided to make their leave.

“Ah, ah,” he pulled the photo away the moment he sensed your attempt of theft. You two were standing right in front of the open door, his parents already having left ahead. “I’m keeping this. You look so cute here.”

“How am I so sure you won’t blackmail me with that!”

An offended gasp. “I would never,” he took out his phone, inserting your picture inside his colored phone case with you watching his every move. “It’s for me to see only, so you don’t need to worry.”

You looked at him. Then to the phone that he was holding up with a confident smile. You let out a sigh.

“Fine,” you begrudgingly relented, and he waddled over to you with a big smile on his face to envelop you into a hug. He smells nice, you thought, reciprocating the embrace. Wait, isn’t this my perfume? That would explain what he was doing inside your room earlier. You could only sigh inwardly let him keep on hugging you. He was whining about it earlier, after all.

It lasted long, maybe a bit too long because his dad came back to fetch him.

“Mhm, you can trust me with anything, Y/N,” Jaemin mumbled before finally pulling away, his hands still resting on your shoulders as he did. “Anyway, before I go— should we exchange phone numbers?”

Tuesday came by, and you were met with two realizations. Both of which made you feel very very small in comparison.

One, NCT U was really freaking big.

Two, Na Jaemin was really freaking popular.

Granted, he had only shown you around the STEM department, but with every turn that you took and every hallway that you passed through, there was least one person that stopped by to say hi to him. Even some of the teachers were close with him. You should have expected it considering he was literally nice, smart, handsome, and everything you could ever ask for, but it still made him feel just a tiny bit out of reach.

“Are you feeling tired?” he asked, breaking away from a conversation with a senior. He put a hand over your shoulder with concern that reflected in his eyes. “We can take a break around the benches if you want.”

“Yeah, sure. After you—”

“I’ll talk to you later, hyung. See you around.”

Jaemin waved off his older friend, Yuta, you had overheard, and proceeded to lead you to the aforementioned area on the ground floor before stopping by a vending machine to get some drinks. You pressed your lips together, feet shuffling as you waited behind him, and then you finally decided to speak. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Do what?” he asked, slotting in a few coins into the machine.

“You— you with your friend,” you fumbled, trying your best to speak your mind, but how were you supposed to say ‘cut your conversation short with your friend because of me’ without seeming like a total headass? You could have waited until they were finished.

With a soft smile, he passed a canned, carbonated drink into your hands— lemon, you read— and took one for himself. He didn’t answer your incomprehensible question and decided to walk across the field leading to a bench area, but you were sure he got what you were trying to say. He simply chose not to answer. Or did he? Hell, you didn’t even know anymore. Annoyed, you decided to gulp down the drink in one go to distract yourself, even when the bubbles stung your throat. Jaemin stared at you in horror.

“Were you that thirsty? You should have told—”

“Na Jaemin!”

In sync, your heads snapped towards the direction of the ear-ripping screech, which was quite coincidentally where you two were headed. There were two boys sitting on a bench, one more on the table with a guitar. You assumed that it was one of them that screamed out your friend’s name— probably the one that was making eye contact with him before dramatically turning away with a butchered sob.

“Na Jaemin! Traitor of the brotherhood! I remember when he would still come running the moment I call his name but now— forgotten for dust! He doesn’t care about us anymore, Renjun. He even has a new—”

“What are you on about this time, Haechan?”

Haechan’s evidently fake sobbing stopped, pushing away the boy that he had just been crying into moments prior. “Oh you’re here,” he deadpanned.

It was almost horrific how three pairs of eyes immediately zeroed in on you as you meekly hid behind Jaemin, causing the hairs at the back of your neck to stand as if you were about to die in a fucking horror movie. You could tell from that alone that despite having many friends, these guys were probably his closest— whether it was better or worse, you had no idea. All of a sudden you were dawned with the intimidating task of trying to get them to like you, which was already way too out of reach because the one with the guitar was practically ripping you to shreds with his eyes alone.

“Please stop trying to scare, Y/N. Jeno, you might actually make her cry, stop that.”

“Whoops,” Jeno stopped his death staring. “Hyuck initiated it.”

“Actually it was Renjun, but whatever,” before Renjun could even bite back after being falsely accused, Haechan had already blocked him off and had directed his attention towards you, legs crossed and a critical gaze. “Fuck formalities. Y/N, right? Who are you and why are you trying to steal—”

“Alright, no more scare tactics. Y/N, there are my friends, Jeno, Haechan— or Donghyuck, whichever you prefer, he doesn’t mind— and Renjun. They’re just trying to mess with you, don’t worry. Friends, this Y/N L/N, my childhood friend for like four, five years before she left Korea and moved to LA.”

The term childhood friend lit a spark within the three boys, but before they could do or say anything dangerous that would jeopardize your relationship, Jaemin the ever popular boy was called out by a group of girls. He excused himself to leave for a moment, but not before apologizing to you a million times over (“If you’re really sorry,” Renjun chided before he ran off. “Treat us and Miss Y/N to Kun’s, yeah?”). He agreed without even hearing him properly, and now you were left with his three friends that felt more like three sharks that circled around you. They were fucking out for blood.

“So,” the moment Jaemin disappeared from the parameter, Haechan pulled you to the bench in between him and Renjun with a devilish grin. “Childhood friend, huh?”

Your eyes snapped over to Renjun who was on your right to ask for a way out of this, but the guy was busy filming the entire thing on his phone. Why did Jaemin leave you behind? You had no chance of escaping. Haechan locked you down by swinging his arm around your neck just as you were about to stand. He signalled at his friend who was sitting on the table. “Jeno, drop the beat.”

There was a moment of miscommunication in between because instead of dropping the beat like Haechan asked, Jeno started strumming a sickeningly sweet tune on his guitar. Or maybe that was what he intended. Either way, Haechan was flexible enough to go along with it.

“You know what they say about childhood friends,” another strum. Haechan sang. Was this a fucking oration? “You either end up forgetting each other, hating each other, or you end up toge—”

“That is not—”

“Hush!” he silenced. Renjun was losing it at the side. So was Jeno, because the guitar tune was long replaced by fits of strangled laughter. “It is, clueless Y/N. It is. How many childhood friends have you met that stayed as childhood friends? None, I assume. I’m never wrong, you see.”

“Weren’t you and Mark childhood friends, too—”

“Shut the fuck up, Huang. This isn’t about me. Y/N, listen.”

Grabbing your shoulders, Haechan pulled you away from Renjun, the sudden movement nearly giving you a whiplash.

“From my expert calculations, you and Jaemin are undeniably going down route three, but the both of you are moving at an agonizingly slow pace, correct?” you stared at him, wide eyed, and he was staring right back. “Correct! Now, in order to speed things up a bit, all you have to do is follow Hyuck’s five step guide on How To Trap Your Childhood Friend Into—”

“Isn’t this the same guide that ruined your—”

“I said shut the fuck up!”

The two ended up quarrelling and you ended up being forgotten. You weren’t sure whether to be thankful or be offended. Jeno shot you a look of remorse on behalf of his friends, bringing you to the conclusion that this must have been a normal occurrence. Your eyes shot towards the sky, clouds covering the sun just enough so you wouldn’t be blinded, ears picking up the argument occuring that went back and forth on both of your sides. They’re a lively bunch, you breathed out, a subtle smile on your face.

Eventually Jaemin showed his face again, jogging over to your group and you greeted him with a beaming grin. “You guys seem to be getting along,” he said the moment he stopped before you.

“Oh, Romeo returns,” Renjun decided to stop picking a fight with Haechan. “Where’d you get dragged off to this time?”

There was silence, all four sets of eyes heavily sparked with curiosity as you waited for Jaemin’s response, but the boy was rather hesitant. “Well—” he fumbled, a faint baby pink blush powdering his cheeks. Sheepish, he continued. “Someone confessed to me.”

The first person that reacted was Jeno, who released a loud snort and scooted a little more forward. “Shouldn’t you be used to it by now?” Jaemin indignantly refuted as he continued to be teased by the other two boys, the remaining uncharacteristically not joining in. At that very moment you could feel Haechan looking at you, a gaze that you couldn’t quite put a finger on but it was enough to shoot him a glare back.

“Who was it? Is she pretty?” you chose to ignore the annoying male beside you and decide to focus all of your interest and attention on Jaemin instead.

“Jiah,” he mindlessly answered, pushing Haechan to the side so he could sit next to you. “From nursing? I think?”

“Dude,” you turned your head to Renjun. “Kang Jiah? Holy shit, that’s crazy.”

Noticing the lost look in your eyes, Renjun proceeded to explain that not only was the alluded Kang Jiah arguably the prettiest in her department, she was at the top of her class too. You didn’t understand which part about that was crazy because for you, that was exactly the kind of person that Jaemin was destined to end up with. You wouldn’t be surprised if they do become a thing— well, there was only one way to find the answer to that.

“Well, what did you say? You said yes right?” you asked him, looking forward to his answer.

“Oh,” he shrugged. “I turned her down.”

What?

“Of course,” Renjun scoffed, shaking head with his arms crossed. “Only you would turn someone like Jiah down. At this rate you’ll end up dying an old hermit.”

“You have a crush on her or something?”

“Pff— no? I just think she’s pretty,”

“You’re not fooling anyone, dumbass. Come over here, I’m gonna squeeze it out of you—”

While the two quarrelled again in the middle of the field with Jeno being the one filming this time, you remained frozen in your seat, somewhat surprised. Huh, you blinked, wanting to ask him why he turned her down but frankly it was none of your business. You turned your head to face him. “Wow, I didn’t expect you to turn into such a heartbreaker, Jaems.”

He clicked his tongue, face scrunched into a bitter look of disapproval as reached out to mess up your hair. “Stop thinking weird thoughts,” he scolded. “Instead, why don’t I finally take you to the art building?”

Your eyes immediately lit up after the mention, and he stifled a laugh at your reaction, patting your head once more before sneaking off without the other three’s knowledge.

Jaemin’s tour of the whole campus actually deemed to be pretty useful because after three whole weeks of going to NCT U, you’d only gotten lost seven times— pretty remarkable if you do say so yourself. Within those three weeks, you had actually expected that your old childhood friend would leave you off on your own once you got used to everything, but no. He tried his best to meet you in between classes even though your buildings were nowhere near each other, and the times when he couldn’t, he’d never failed to call or text you. “I promised your parents!” he reasoned, but you weren’t sure if that promise included asking you if you’ve eaten breakfast every morning.

“Breakfast?”

You repeated into the phone as you and your recently made friend Soorim walked to your Visual Studies class. You’d met her during your first week and the both of you immediately hit off. It was nice to have someone else other than Jaemin and his friends, but of course you appreciated their company, too.

“I, uh, actually haven’t eaten— no wait! Before you nag me, I have a valid excuse, okay!” Soorim gave you a sidelong glance, curious and suspicious over your loud phone call so she tried to lean her ear closer to the device but you quickly evaded without even looking at her. “Listen, I was in a hurry to school! I actually planned on grabbing a bite on the way but I… forgot my wallet because again, I was in a hurry and— no, shut up, you don’t have the right to scold me for this, too! You literally left your report at home yesterday and I had to walk all the way back to save your butt so you’re no better, Mr. Na.”

Without even realizing, you were already in front of the doors to your classroom, and so you hurried a goodbye to Jaemin just before you and Soorim took your seats at the near back.

“Alright, I’m in the classroom now. See you later. Yes, I’ll eat after, yes, I promise to double check my wallet from now on. Bye.”

The moment you settled on your seat, setting your phone and backpack aside, Soorim swiveled her chair to face you, legs crossed, hands resting with poise on her thigh, and she batted her eyelashes expectantly. You ignored her, twisting open your water bottle because it was the only thing you had that could somewhat silence your crying stomach.

“So,” she started anyway. The bottle opening was hovering over your lips. You narrowed your eyes at her. What the fuck was she doing. “When are you introducing me to your boyfriend?”

You choked while drinking.

“Boy— what,” with a grimace, you ripped away the bottle from your face, slamming it down on the table. You looked at your friend in disgust. “If I had one I wouldn’t be hanging out with you.”

Soorim rolled her eyes, sneering at you. She held up her hand to the side of her face, all fingers closed except for her pinky and her thumb, shaking it a little. You sighed.

“He’s a friend.”

“The same friend that kept on calling you during our night out because he was worried?”

“Yes, well,” your sweat dropped. “He’s just like that, you know?”

“Sure,” she scrunched her nose, haphazardly throwing her giant notebook on the table. There was a brief moment of quiet that overtook because Soorim decided to stop egging on you as you waited for your professor, but that quiet only lasted for a while. She nudged you, and you looked up from your desk. “Oh, look who's coming.”

Huang Renjun sauntered in with an expression not fitting for a “good morning” greeting, so you chose to remain silent and simply stare at him in judgment as he settled right before you and Soorim, plastic bag in hand and binder in the other. What shat in his coffee this early in the morning?

“This is all your fault,” with a grunt, he dropped the bag filled with all sorts of food and snacks right in front of you, immediately pulling out a chair and sitting his ass onto it after. “My plans of turning up late are ruined because of you.”

Your eyebrows furrowed, picking out a small container of strawberry milk from the bunch. How was this your fault? Furthermore, what exactly was all of this?

“Ooh, you making moves on Y/N, Huang?” Soorim, on the other hand, was digging into the rest of the goods, stealing a bun filled with red bean paste with a happy smile.

“Ew, as if.”

Renjun fake gagged, earning a look of offense from you which he completely ignored and disregarded. He took a box of pepero from the pile, shooting you a smug look before adding.

“It’s from Nana.”

(“You’re at school already? It’s very early. You’ve eaten breakfast, right?”

At a convenience store nearby the school, Jaemin and Renjun decided to eat their first meal there. Though, it appeared that the latter was the only one doing all the eating because his friend seemed to be far too preoccupied with his conversation on the phone to even notice that he took some of his sushi right in front of his face. Renjun silently chewed as he watched the colors on his friend’s face change at each sentence.

“Aish, it’s the most important meal of the day for a reason. How many times do I have to tell you—”

Another piece of sushi stolen. He wondered how far he could get away with it.

“Y/N, I—”

Jaemin let out a long sigh, causing Renjun to drop the food back onto the plate, retracting his chopsticks back to his own food— a bowl of ramen noodles that he had still yet to finish. He discreetly slurped it down as if he hadn’t been stealing since earlier. He was sure that Jaemin noticed though, but knowing his friend, he probably just let him. Renjun noticed the small pout on Jaemin, eliciting his curiosity.

“Okay,” he’s whining, Renjun concluded. “See you later.”

The moment Jaemin shut off his phone, Renjun expected him to say something, to air out why the fuck he was being all that this early in the morning, maybe even tell him what the call was about like a friend would, but no. Instead, Jaemin promptly stood up from his seat, disappeared into the limited selection of isles in the store, basket in hand, and started throwing a mountain full of food with a scrunched out, concentrated expression. Renjun had his mouth hanging open, brows knitted together, and wondering what in the ever loving fuck was going on with his friend as he stared at him pay for everything at the counter.

He sat back, eyeing Jaemin as he returned in front of him, who placed the full bag on top of the table as he took a seat.

“The hell?” a particular carton caught Renjun’s eye, and he immediately fished for it in primal disbelief. “Strawberry milk? You literally hate strawberries and milk separately yet you’re buying them combined? Are you sick?”

Jaemin did not answer. In fact, he dismissed the question completely with a smile, deciding to ask one of his own.

“It’s almost time for your first class, right? Visual Studies?”

At that point it hit him— the call, the food, the stupid behavior of his friend. It was completely obvious.

“Oh,” Renjun dropped the drink back onto the table. “Oh my god, you’re so fucking whipped.”)

“Shut up.”

After hearing Renjun’s story, you couldn’t look at all the multicolored snacks laid in front of you without heating up a million degrees anymore. It was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

“You’re just messing with me, shut up.”

Renjun scoffed. “Why would I even make up something so stupid? C’mon, Y/N. You know I’m way better than that.”

You couldn’t argue that this wasn’t something Jaemin would do. No, because this was exactly something sickly sweet Jaemin would do and your sad attempt of denial was simply because your heart might actually run away if you admit it to yourself. And as if to give you more assurance or to fluster you even further, your phone vibrated, causing you to jump in your seat. Before either of the two’s nosiness could take a peek, you quickly snatched your phone, leaning your chair all the way back to read the message.

[<nana3: never skip breakfast okok?!? u don’t have your wallet right? wait for me in front of the bio building later. let’s eat lunch together 🥰💚]

Dear lord Jesus, have mercy on your soul. Renjun took your squeak as a sign of victory.

“Wait a minute,” Soorim looked at you wide in a sudden moment of epiphany. “Nana as in Na Jaemin? The fucking Na Jaemin? Is he the friend you’ve been mentioning? The guy you were calling and bought all this? Holy fuck, Y/N—!”

Your body moved before you could think and you thanked god that your professor wasn’t here yet because you would have caught the entire class’ attention when you leaped forward to slap your hands over Soorim’s mouth.

Renjun’s excessive giggling brought you back to reality, pulling your hands off of her with a gasp and an apology. “Oh gosh, I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck, why did you do that?”

“I don’t know, it felt like you were about to say something stupid!”

She gave a look, half done and half amazed at your willpower. You’d never been this fired up for anything. “Is it stupid to say that one of the hottest guys on campus is literally—”

“Stupid!” another slap on her mouth. Renjun was about to fall off his chair laughing. “You were going to say something stupid. Please don’t even think about finishing that.”

Lucky for you, your professor had finally come in. Unlucky for you, Soorim shot you the signature dirty stare which meant that you wouldn’t be let off that easily. How fun.

Class went on quiet and boring as usual— you’d never been one for technicalities, preferring heading straight into the creative process with nothing but inspiration coursing through your veins, so your professor’s voice was nothing but white noise running in the background as you busied yourself with your thoughts. Your eyes flickered to the floor, cheek resting on your palm, and you gazed down to the plastic back beside your backpack. Twirling your pencil between your fingers, you pulled out a scrap piece of paper, every move that you made triggered by nothing except the abstract flow of your mind.

There was only one person you were thinking of. The same person living inside your head the moment you stepped foot back into Korea, the same person that made you feel as if you were someone special out of all the eight billion people in the world, the same person that bought you three persons worth of food because he didn’t want you skipping breakfast, the same person that felt more like a dream than anything.

Mindlessly, you started sketching the face of your childhood friend, filling in all the details of his face that you could see whenever you closed your eyes, up until the bell rang that signalled the end of the class.

“Y/N! Your father and I are leaving, now!”

“There’s extra money on top of the fridge if you want to eat out.”

Saturday evening. Your parents decided to go out on a well-deserved date that night, leaving you alone inside your apartment. You saw them out the door, locking it up once they left, and as you pressed your back against the white washed wooden door, your eyes darted over to the clock hanging on your living room wall. Six-twenty-three. There were still a few hours until closing.

An art exhibition was to be held on the same evening, and this was the last day that the actual artist was going to be there. Free and you got to meet world renowned artist Ten Lee? You’d be insane not to go. Though, as you made your way into your room to change out of your raggedy old sweatpants and Jaemin’s (stolen) mint hoodie, you’d come to a realization that maybe the venue was too far for you to just walk. Your parents were using the car and it wasn’t like you could drive anyway. You could commute, but there was a better idea in your system.

Opening your phone, a smile involuntarily tugged at the corners of your mouth as you pressed the contact number that seemed to have never left your recents.

[you: nana! are you free rn? there’s an art exhibition out of town! i need a ride :p and you need some time off your studies too bcs i noticed youve been more tired than usual so good idea i think yes hehe]

As usual, he took no more than a minute to reply. But after lighting up when you saw his name flash on your screen, you bit down your bottom lip to prevent a frown from forming.

[<nana3: TT i’m attending a seminar for an org rn y/nie huhu i don’t know what time it’s ending so i’m not sure if i can make it 😫😭]

[you: it’s okay!! jhfdj sorry for disturbing u!! please listen well to the speaker hehe and tell me how it went]

[<nana3: i’m so sorry]

It was difficult to pinpoint how you exactly felt.

You chewed the inside of your mouth, staring at the phone screen. He shouldn’t be apologizing.

After shutting your closet door down to a close, you fell face down onto your bed, your phone thrown over to the side. Yes, you were disappointed, but it wasn’t what weighed you down; the actual reason feeling like a disgusting, throbbing feeling writhing underneath your skin after being suppressed for awhile now. It never left your system the moment you'd arrived, the moment he showed you what his life was like, making you realize the stark difference between you and him.

You couldn’t care less about the exhibition now. In fact, fuck that entire plan entirely. As you were loitering, fooling around, planning on going to pointless events that wouldn’t be of benefit to your future, Jaemin was there, making connections and decisions and taking a step further into life.

It made you wonder what exactly had you been doing these past seven years— what haven’t you been doing, what you should be doing. You were ashamed to admit it, but it plagued the back of your mind since you got here.

Jaemin was far too out of reach.

It made the wrench in your gut worse whenever he made an effort to not make you feel that way. He’d always include you whenever he’d be with his other friends, always made sure that you didn’t feel left out since you came here, whether it be by his little cute texts even though you were in the same room just to make you smile, or by giving you all of his attention despite the many people vying for his. God, you didn’t deserve him. You didn’t deserve to like him.

What did you deserve?

Just then, there was a knock on your front door, followed by a buzz from your phone.

[<nana3: open the door!]

And you did, scrambling out of your bed and nearly tripping over your feet as you ran just to swing it open. Jaemin stood before you with his hair tousled by the wind, a purple and orange varsity jacket covering his frame. He greeted you with brightened eyes.

“I thought you had—”

“I left early,” he smiled at you, walking inside. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? Hurry, I’ll wait here.”

You blinked at him as he passed you by to sit on your couch, unable to understand what led him to such a decision, staring as he stretched his arms over his head with a yaw. He shouldn’t have come here. “Jaemin, it’s just an exhibition, it’s not as important as your seminar.”

He raised a brow at you, stealing a pillow into his lap. “But you want to go, right?”

“Well…” you did want to go, even after your small episode earlier. “Yeah, but—”

“Then it’s more important.”

He smiled at you. You cursed at yourself for letting your heart dither.

“Besides, you actually think I’d let you go out alone this late at night?” Jaemin stood up from the sofa, resting his hand on top of your head with an affectionate gaze. “You should go change. Or maybe not. You look good in my clothes, anyway.”

It was cold outside, so Jaemin made sure that you were wearing enough layers so that you won’t get sick, forcing you back inside when he deemed that you weren’t covered enough.

“Jaem, I’m fucking sweating.”

You huffed as you lugged yourself to the front seat, but your padded winter coat was preventing you from making a smooth landing inside.

“Sweating is a good sign! That means you’re healthy,” noticing your struggle, Jaemin relented to leaving the coat at the back of the car, but keeping it there just in case. He got in after you, starting the car and turning on the radio for some background noise. “Reconnaissance Gallery Right? What’s the name of the show?”

“Mono,” you replied. “It’s by Ten Lee.”

“Oh! I remember you talking about him once,” he exclaimed. “We should hurry then.”

It was a generally quiet car ride, but the silence was welcomed. After asking where you wanted to eat dinner once you were done with the exhibit, Jaemin didn’t talk anymore. Your eyes followed the moving lights that were lit up all around the night scene, and from time to time they flickered over to admire the boy beside you who seemed to be far too engrossed with his driving. An unconscious smile grew, warmth fluttering inside. You were lucky enough to meet him again in this lifetime, even after being set apart for so long.

“Something wrong?”

He asked without looking. He must have noticed you staring.

“No,” you replied with a soft voice. “Just remembered how baby-faced you were back then.”

With a laugh, he shook his head, one hand stretched out to the steering wheel. “You’re one to talk. Alright, I think we’re here.”

You felt a rush the moment you went past the glass doors, met by a relatively large interior with walls painted either black or white and lined with numerous paintings that contrasted the wall they were hung on. With a large grin, you quickly tugged Jaemin’s arm deeper into the venue, your footsteps making hollow echoes inside the place. He was taken aback by your sudden action, heart racing when he felt your grip on him, never slowing down even when you stopped in front of one of the larger works in the exhibit. “Oh my gosh, I love this painting— wait let me take a picture.”

As you fumbled with your phone, Jaemin couldn’t help but stare at you as if you were a part of the exhibit itself. There were more people inside, yet he didn’t even notice them; paintings as pretty as the night sky, yet it was you that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. Your phone camera captured it with an audible click, and he took it as a signal to scramble and take his out too.

Click!

“The painting’s really pretty, right?”

He nodded at you. “Yeah,” it wasn’t the painting that he wanted to capture. He dug his phone back into his pocket after sneaking a brief glance at your excited grin behind the screen. It wasn’t every day that you smiled like this since you were usually reserved. He didn’t want to miss saving a memory. “You wanna walk around more?”

At his suggestion, you and Jaemin decided to move deeper into the exhibit. You knew he wasn’t that knowledgeable about art, but he still listened intently whenever you told him something about the strokes and composition of some of the works displayed. You hadn’t run into Ten Lee yet even after an hour of walking around and taking pictures, but you didn’t mind at all. Jaemin froze in front of a certain painting— the visage of what seemed to be a face formed together by different objects, drawn in a style similar to the rest with the black and white motif, graffiti-esque structure, and the overall whimsical and abstract feel to it. There was a smile on his face, you wondered what he was thinking about.

“One day, it’s gonna be your paintings that will be displayed here. You promise you won’t forget about me when that happens, okay?" he started, turning his attention to you. “You should also paint a portrait dedicated to me," he joked, nudging you a little.

You smiled at him. Jaemin noticed that this wasn’t your usual smile, but he chose to not say anything. “Okay,” you breathed out before looking down seconds before he could see your expression melt away. How was he thinking so highly of you when it was him who was too far to reach?

He was about to ask— he didn’t know what to ask— but he would say whatever just to erase whatever was bothering your peace of mind. But he wasn’t able to. In fact, just as he lifted a hand to rest over your shoulder as an act of comfort, your head shot up, turning to face the sudden eruption of a commotion that Jaemin had failed to notice in his worry for you.

“Holy crap,” you gasped. “Is that—”

Ten Lee, just a few feet away from you with cameras and crowd surrounding him. You wasted no time to run to him, grabbing Jaemin’s hand in a flash to drag him behind. His eyes softened upon seeing the excited bounce of your hair as you ran. At least your spirits were brought back up again.

Jaemin watched as you nervously fiddled with the hem of your jacket as you waited for an opening to talk to the famous artist, how you would stand on your toes to peek above the small crowd and stand back down again after feeling too shy. Eventually the crowd dissipated to only around four or five people. This was your chance. You looked at him Jaemin. He nudged you with his shoulder. ‘Go,’ he mouthed. You pressed your lips together before finally deciding to march up to the artist. He didn’t realize you have been holding his hands until you let go.

“A-ah, hi!”

He followed after you in case you were feeling too nervous, but he was relieved to see that Ten Lee was pretty down to earth and easy going for someone famous. He stayed a few steps behind you as he listened to the ongoing conversation.

“I can’t tell you enough how much I adore your works. Especially, Monarch! I took a picture of it earlier and it’s so much more captivating in person,” you said, watching as Ten signed your phone case. “Actually, I—I look up to you a lot as an artist. A few of my paintings were actually inspired by your style, but of course it— it would be an insult to compare.”

“You shouldn’t compare,” he scolded, adding in a little sermon about your art is yours and that it should stand alone as your own. He handed your phone back, a smile on his face. “Can I see?”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. In a flustered rush, you quickly scrolled through your gallery folders to find the specific paintings you were referring to, and Jaemin, out of curiosity, hovered over your shoulders to see as well. As you passed through your works with your friend’s mouth hanging open in awe (he wanted to gush about them, but figured this wasn’t formally appropriate), his eyes caught a glimpse of an image that you quickly swiped past— far too glaring too miss because he was sure that it looked something like his face. It was a different kind of pride that he felt when he saw that.

Ten’s eyes flickered as he saw through your paintings, something formulating within even after you hid your phone. He looked at you, grabbing your hands without any warning which caused you to squeak. “Y/N, right?” you nodded, wide eyed. “You know, I’m hosting an online gallery within the upcoming weeks. It’s for young, aspiring artists like you to be recognized at a larger scale.”

Hold on, you tried to catch on to what he was saying. Was he—

“Are you interested?”

—serious? Was he actually serious? It looked like he was because when he let go of you, a business card suddenly materialized in your hands. Holy shit.

“Think about it, okay? Just email me your portfolio and everything. Who knows, what if you get recognized and scouted after this?”

He winked at you, shooting you a thumbs up. This had to be a dream. You were still trying to process the piece of fucking paper that you were holding and now all of a sudden Ten came in between you and Jaemin, swinging his arms around your neck and giving you a pat on the back

“Anyhow, thanks to the both of you for coming to my show. And Y/N—” he looked at you with a grin. “Looking forward to your more of your works.”

Ten disappeared off with two other people, their footsteps clacking against the cold, tiled floor. You stared at the card in your hands for a few moments— Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul, it wrote— before snapping your eyes back to Jaemin who was wearing a far too large smile. “Oh my god.”

Jaemin wasted no time in drowning you into a hug, knocking the air out of your lungs when he nearly toppled you onto the ground.

“Y/N,” his voice was soft in comparison to the roughness of his actions, sweetly fluttering into your ears as he rocked you left and right with his squeezing embrace. “I’m so proud of you.”

His words nearly broke you down to tears.

“This calls for a celebration, right?” he pulled away, hand automatically falling to hold onto yours as he led you to the gallery’s exit. “My treat! I know a place nearby, we should eat an entire feast!”

“Nana, you already treated me to lunch last time, I can’t just—”

“No, no no! I’m treating you, okay? This is your achievement so I should congratulate properly.”

There was no point arguing with him when he already had his mind set, but even during your drive to a nearby barbecue place, even when you were already halfway with the meal, you kept on insisting that you’d pay him back for all of this someday. He’d only laugh it off, telling you that he doesn’t mind as long as you’re enjoying yourself. You downed a shot of soju after hearing that, hoping that it would make you forget momentarily about how fast your heart was beating.

Somehow the clock eventually struck nine, and rather than going home, the both of you took an impulsive detour to a nearby public beach. The sounds of waves crashing against the solemn quiet of the night was heard as you neared the area, bringing you to a moment of peace.

Instead of going to the sandy shore, you two decided to take a spot on the beach cliff right above the rolling water. “Be careful,” Jaemin whispered from behind as he guided you along the rocky surface, heating up from the way he was so, so close with his hands steady on your back. You two sat side by side on the cliff, underneath the veil of stars, with the ocean right in front of you.

“Are your parents okay with you staying out this late?” he cocked his head to face you in a manner that was far too cute for you to suppress a giggle.

“Jaems, they’d probably allow me to disappear off to Italy as long as you’re with me.”

The both of you broke into laughter, but it was eventually replaced by the noises of the ocean. You breathed in the salty scent of the sea, folding your knees to your chest with your arms hugging them together. For a moment your eyes flickered over to Jaemin, and a chord was strung, tugging your heart towards him, but it was impossible for it to leap out of your chest so it only rattled against your ribcage desperately just like the waves. You stared at the way his dark hair melted into the night sky, the wind brushing it away, the way he had his legs stretched out freely over the rocks while you squeezed yourself as small as you could get, and lastly, the way he flashed over to look at the exact moment that you wanted him to.

If there was such a thing as a perfect instance where the stars of the night sky aligned, it would be this.

“You know,” you started, letting your arms fall to your sides as you looked over to the distance. “I envy you sometimes.”

Jaemin was taken aback by your confession.

“I also admire you,” you pressed your lips together tightly, forming it into a smile. “A lot. I admire you a lot. To the point that it made me feel like you’re living in a completely different world from me and that I wasn’t deserving of you.”

You’d finally mustered up the courage to tell him everything you’d pent up during your first month back here— it was better than just letting it fester into something worse, even if there was a risk of completely ruining your friendship. It was better than playing pretend.

“We’re both only a year apart but it seems like you have your life all tied together while I’m still barely able to walk on my own two feet. I wouldn’t even have been able to go to the exhibit if it weren’t for you,” you crossed your legs, a mirthless laugh slipping past your lips as the wind brushed against your cheeks .“I don’t… want to seem ungrateful for everything you’ve done or make you feel bad or anything, because Jaemin—”

You turned around, looking at him.

“If I had the choice to stay back then, I would have gladly chosen to spend those seven years together with you.”

Jaemin stared at you, speechless, unblinking. He had a gut feeling that there was something bothering you all this time, but he never had thought that it would be this.

“But the feeling of seeing you again after all this time is a feeling that I wouldn’t trade for the world either,” you hummed, looking down as you traced the creases of the rocky ground with your fingers, a shaky breath slipping past you. “If only… I wasn’t just so insecure then maybe everything would be perfect.”

For a moment there was nothing— only the lulling sounds of the sea that became quieter after you laid your heart out to the ground. The next moment, Jaemin spoke up.

“I got into an accident four years ago.”

You shot up in a single instant.

Jaemin laughed a little, bringing his hand to the crown of your head in assurance. “I had a herniated disc which got worse during a dance camp. It was definitely scary, how it seemed like I was in a standstill for two years while everyone else carried on with their lives,” he continued, letting his hand drop once more right beside yours. “It’s hard to get out of that hopeless mentality. It takes small steps, but once you do, things will eventually start looking up.”

He shot you a smile, eyes twinkling under the light of the moon. You couldn’t help but put your head down after hearing everything.

“I understand how and why you’re feeling that way, don’t worry I’m not upset. You don’t think I am, right?” he caught you sniffling, leaning forward to take a look at your face but you kept on turning away. “Y/N— Y/N, look at me, okay? I’ll be your personal cheerleader from now on, yeah? Up until you realize that you’re actually greater than you think you are.”

He was too good to you.

“I’m— I’m sorry I couldn’t be there when you were having a tough time.”

You silently muttered, meekly sneaking a glance at him to see that he was actually smiling at you this entire time. He’d always been like this.

“It’s alright, you didn’t have a choice, right?” he assured. “And I’m all better now, as you can see. I can even jump off the cliff into the ocean without having a single scratch!”

Right, you managed a laugh from his silly proclamation. He lit up upon hearing you. Maybe you can try to be like that too.

“What’s important is that from now on.”

There had been a gap between the two of you that entire time, but Jaemin bridged it the moment his hand brushed against your skin, his pinky interlocking with yours against the coarse ground. You met his eyes. He shot you a smile. That same smile that you could never get enough of.

“You’ll be with me.”

“Jaemin, please put your shirt back on.”

When you walked back into the living room, easel and canvas in your arms, you did not expect to be met with your childhood friend-slash-boyfriend mid-strip. In fact you were far too in shock that you dropped everything to the floor at that exact moment, only managing to utter those previous words once you were busy picking them all back up and not looking at him. He quickly ran to help you.

“Oh, I thought this was—” he passed you a paintbrush, helping you stand back up once you’ve gotten everything. “Aren’t the models for your classes usually, like, naked?”

“You think I was gonna paint you nude?!”

“Well,” he mused, holding his shirt to his bare chest. “If you want— okay, sorry! Shirt on! Shirt on!”

You settled down the easel that you just threatened to launch at him near the window where the afternoon sunlight was leaking through. A few days prior, you had contacted Ten Lee regarding the online exhibit, asking when the deadline was because you wanted to include one more piece in your portfolio.

“Nana, can you sit over here?”

There was a stool situated a few feet in front of the easel and right beside the window. He did as you said, now fully dressed and sitting properly and well behaved. You marched up to him, moving around his limbs into a specific pose. Jaemin wore a subtle smile as you grabbed his arms to a certain position, his shoulders into a certain angle, and when your fingers landed on his jaw to adjust his head, he just couldn’t help but throw all your work out the window by pulling you towards him by the waist.

“What are you—” a kiss fell on your nose. Jaemin shot you a cheeky smile.

“Sorry,” he said. “I couldn’t help it.”

You weren’t inclined to do anything else but forgive him, even if it meant refixing him into position, but somehow you managed. Running back behind the easel, you wore a satisfied smile upon seeing the composition, flicking your wrist to start the initial sketch. There was music running in the background. Jaemin sat still for thirty whole minutes.

“Can I move for a sec?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you answered. “I got the basic shapes down anyway.”

He let out an amazed gasp, lips forming into an ‘o’ shape. “So cool,” he said, and you let out a little laugh.

You were trying to focus, but in between a few strokes of your pencil, he wiggled his eyebrows when you looked at him again. You threw your head down to suppress a barrage of giggles. “Okay, this is— this is going nowhere. Can I just take a picture of you?”

Even taking a shot of him was difficult because he just wouldn’t sit still. He’d always do something to make you laugh or smile just when you were about to take a picture. You scolded him, telling him that all you needed was a few takes then the both of you can make a run for some popsicles at the nearby store. He straightened upon hearing, and you finally got to do the job.

“Do you have a title in mind for the piece?” he asked, just as you finished taking the last photo of his face up close.

You did have one. In fact, you’ve had it in mind for a while now.

“Yeah,” you answered, smiling. “Mahiwaga.”

Haechan, for whatever suspicious reason, volunteered to treat you out to lunch today at a family restaurant near the uni. You did not know why, and he would not tell you why, but you could not pass up free food. You texted Soorim to follow just in case you needed mental support because as you sat across him, looking up from your phone while munching your fries to catch the terrifying stare he was giving you, you could tell that you needed at least one other person around.

[you: dude, i think hes actually planning on killing me please hurry up]

[soorim: omw babe]

[soorim: but ur paying for me right]

You sighed, telling her yes you already ordered her food, and she replied with an annoying heart that you refused to mark read. Just as you were about to shut off your phone, ready to hear whatever Haechan was brewing, another message was sent your way.

[<nana3: baby, i saw the exhibition!! 🤩 you know, you’re so amazing, you know?!?! nana is super super proud of you 🥺💚 and i’m sure your parents are, too!! i sent the link to all of my friends yesterday hehe. also i’ll call you immediately after my class, ok?? don’t forget to drink lots of water today 😚 byebye! 💚]

“Are you two fucking yet?”

Haechan’s question caused you to choke on your fries, dropping your phone to the table so you can reach for the glass of Sprite. You looked at him, appalled. “I’m sorry?”

“What are we talking about?”

Soorim had belatedly joined in the party, pushing you farther into the seat to make room for herself. Her eyes zeroed in on the table, choosing the giant burger to attack first. You scrunched your nose as you looked at her.

“We—”

“Whether Y/N and Jaemin have done the dirty yet,” Haechan interrupted. You looked at him in offense and horror. He reciprocated with a deadpan stare. “You have, haven’t you? I went to Jaemin’s house at four in the morning yesterday and—”

“Why were you at his house at four?!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You looked at him in disbelief, scoffing, and you looked over to Soorim with the words ‘can you believe this guy?’ ready to fire from your tongue. You could not say it. Not when Soorim looked absolutely compelled by Haechan’s bullshit allegations. She even stopped scarfing down her food. You made a mistake in calling her up here.

“What matters is that he looked absolutely fucked out absolutely naked, but not only that!” a scrunchie. He pulled out a scrunchie from his backpack. That was yours. Even had your hair on it. “This is yours isn’t it? I’ve caught you red handed, Y/N, now answer me—”

Haechan’s eyes were out to kill.

“You wrapped it, right? I’m too young to be called Uncle Hyuck so please tell me you did.”

“We are not—”

“That explains why you were walking all weird yesterday!” Soorim exclaimed. “Y/N, you know you could tell me these things, right? There is no—”

“We are not fucking!”

This wasn’t the best conversation to have at a family restaurant.

A waiter stopped serving the table next to you, it’s occupants (that included three kids and their parents) froze and looked at you in horror. An innocent passerby spilled his drink on his tray. You sharply inhaled, bowing your head apologetically. Thank god there weren’t any managers here— the three of you might have actually gotten kicked out.

With a cough, you collected yourself, giving both of your companions the stink eye for putting you in such a compromising position. “Can I not sleep at my boyfriend’s place without— without doing anything of that sort?” you huffed, ignoring the red hot heat creeping up your neck. “And as a matter of fact, I was walking weird because I fell down the while lugging plywood up the stairs, so shut the fuck up.”

The two of them let out a shriek at the same time.

“Boyfriend?! And what— you fell off the fucking stairs?!”

“Did you do as I told you?! Did you follow Hyuck’s five step guide on How To Trap Your—”

“Quiet!”

You shushed the both of them before the three of you actually got kicked out.

“Yes, boyfriend. Yes, I fell off the stairs. No, I did not follow Hyuck’s guide to whatever,” you spitefully took a sip from your drink. “You never even told me what the hell that was.”

As Haechan started to further explain his guide with Soorim enthusiastically taking everything in, you were caught by the buzzing of your phone. The screen lit up. Someone sent you an e-mail— the sender you did not recognize at all. You wiped your fingers with some tissues on the table before taking the device, clicking on the notification immediately after.

“Right. After you tell him that you’re— hey! Y/N, are you even listening?”

You shot up. Haechan noticed the distraught look in your eyes. His brows furrowed together.

“What’s wrong?”

The following weekend, you went out and treated Jaemin to dinner at a fancy Chinese restaurant despite his many complaints. He was about to pay for everything again, but this time you were faster in stealing the check. Afterward, you stopped by a nearby hardware store to buy another two pieces of plywood. You’ve been painting a lot more frequently lately, and you’ve been experimenting more on larger scale works. It was fortunate that Jaemin was there to help you bring the large sheets of wood this time.

“There we go.”

Jaemin settled the wood resting upright against your living room wall, right beside a few stained cans of paint underneath layers of newspaper. You thanked him, smiling, and he ruffled the hair on your head.

“You should ask me whenever you need to do some heavy work alright? We don’t want a rerun of last time,” you cringed upon recalling. That wasn’t a pretty fall. “How are your legs? Have the bruises healed?”

“Almost. You don’t have to worry,” you assured him. He sighed in relief.

Dinner and a shopping trip weren’t the only reasons you called him out tonight. You had actually been meaning to tell him something within the past three days. Your parents knew, Haechan and Soorim found out during lunch last time, Renjun and Jeno might have already found out thanks to their loudmouthed friend. All that’s left was Jaemin. It was his reaction that would help you make the decision.

But why was it so difficult to start talking?

“I’m gonna head out now,” he hummed, pulling you into his chest. You bit down your lip, contemplating, and maybe he noticed your unease and hesitation, as if he could hear your unsaid thoughts, because he lightly pulled away to look at your face and spoke. “What is it? Do you wanna tell me something?”

Of course, you thought to yourself. He’d probably know you’re hungry before your stomach could even rumble.

You gently pried away his hands from your arms, a hollow smile directed to him. Concern flashed through his eyes, but he held back his tongue, waiting for you to say your mind instead.

“Yeah…” you started. “I— I do have something to tell you.”

That was what you said, but as the clock ticked a couple dozen times in the background, you still had yet to tell him. It wasn’t easy to tell him. Because you were afraid that the moment you opened your mouth to squeeze out a single word, you might not make it to finish the entire sentence. If it were him, this might have been easy. But you were not, so it took a little more effort on your part to let the words go.

Maybe you shouldn’t have looked him in the eye, because the moment you did, your eyes stung from the threat of tears and so you jerked your head to the side.

But you weren’t able to evade, because Jaemin decided to follow you. You turned away again, looking towards the unplugged television, but it was once again replaced by Jaemin’s dark brown eyes. Your eyes stung, your lips pressed together, and at that moment you couldn’t help but laugh at his ridiculous actions throwing your head down in the midst of it, but your laughter got choked up by the sudden streaming of tears that you had come unprompted.

Jaemin panicked.

“Hey, hey, baby, what’s wrong? What is it?” he ducked down to reach your face, cupping your cheeks with his large hands as you wiped away your tears. “It’s okay, you can tell me, baby. I’ll listen to everything, okay?”

It took you a while to regain your voice, but Jaemin patiently waited with words of consolation. You couldn’t understand how one person could have this much goodwill and kindness in them.

Eventually your sniffling died down, and so you finally willed yourself to speak. “I— I joined Ten’s exhibition, right? And— and there was a possibility that other artists or institutions might be interested in the participants, right?”

“Mhm,” he replied, stroking the back of your head as you tightly gripped the front of his shirt. “Go on.”

“I— I got scouted? You know PIOA? In Paris? They— they offered me a full scholarship if I…” you paused for a moment, biting the inside of your mouth. “If I transfer there for the remaining months until my last year.”

Jaemin took a while to absorb it, silence flooding along with your occasional sniffles.

“Isn’t that a good thing? Ah, ah, baby look at me, look at me,” he grabbed your shoulders, frowning when he made contact with your red stained eyes. He brushed your cheek with his thumb, heart heavy from seeing you like this. It pained him to see you this way. “Why are you crying? Don’t you want to go?”

A beat of silence. You swallowed, speaking in a small, shaky voice.

“Do you want me to go?”

Another beat of silence.

“Of course! Can you imagine that out of all the people that joined that exhibit, they chose you! Your talent and hard work shouldn’t go to waste,” Jaemin inhaled sharply in between his speech, managing a smile for you to see. “I’m really proud of you, Y/N. An opportunity like this doesn’t come that easily.”

“Jaemin.”

You softly sounded, letting your head fall into his chest. He held you close, as if you were leaving at that instant.

“You know I was so happy when we got in touch again, when I came back to Korea. I know I don’t have a lot going on for me, but I could easily forget all of that because I’m with you,” once more, you felt the tears start to rise up again, but you tried your hardest to swallow them down. “It hasn’t even been that long since we got reunited and now you’re… you’re just telling me to leave you again miles, miles away as if it’s nothing.”

“It’s not like that, Y/N. It’s hard for me too, you know,” he muttered into your hair with a slight whine, his chin resting over your head. “But it’s not like we’re never going to see each other again, right? We managed for seven years, what’s two or three more?”

When he heard you stifle a laugh, laughing despite your sniveling, he couldn’t help but laugh along too. Once more and perhaps the last that night, he pulled away so he could look at the smile on your face, eyes still red and watery, and he pressed a warm kiss on your forehead.

“You have nothing to worry about, baby. We can visit each other during breaks and—” he breathed out, lips curling into a smile. “I’ll call you every day.”

Right, you wiped away your remaining tears, huffing out a brief, airy chuckle.

You looked at him, hopeful, earnest.

“Every day?”

You asked.

“Every day.”

He answered.

You were never going to get used to airports. They always carried a bitter, cold air that signified a goodbye that you were far too familiar with. Today was no different.

“Don’t forget to drink your vitamins alright? It’s a new environment so you might need some time to get used to it. Oh! And—”

“Dude, you’re worse than her actual mom.”

Jaemin shot a smile to your mother at the mention, who was waiting for your group to finish from a distance with your father. Your mother was to stay with you in Paris for a week until you got everything settled down while the four boys, Soorim, and your father decided to send you off today. Though, unlike your usual experiences with leaving and returning, today was much louder, more rowdy. It was a nice change— you only wished that it would last longer.

“It’s okay, I appreciate the concern,” you laughed. “Do I have to report back to you everything before I go to bed?”

“Well, if you can,” Jaemin mused, locking his pinky finger with yours and swinging your hand into the air from side to side. “Kidding, kidding. I trust you’ll take care of yourself there.”

A chorus of gagging noises broke out when you pulled his shirt, burying your face into his chest, prompting him to smile and wrap his arms around you. You drowned them out, though, only focusing on how warm he was despite the cold brushing of the wind, how he held you with so much gentleness that one would think he was afraid that he might break you.

It was funny how free you felt when you were trapped inside his embrace.

“How many times do I have to say goodbye to you at the fucking airport?” you grumbled, tears welling up again and so you wiped them away with your sweater sleeve. “Wait, why aren’t you crying. Aren’t you even at the very least sad that I’m gonna leave?”

Jaemin chuckled, replacing your hand with his to brush away the stray tears.

“If I cry in front of you then you probably won’t even board the plane.”

You hated that he was right.

“I’ll do it after you leave,” he let out a laugh, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. At that moment, the pre-boarding announcement rang throughout the area's speakers, signalling that it was time for you and your mother to go. Grabbing your suitcase, you sent a grateful look to each one of them— your father, Jeno, Renjun, Donghyuck, Soorim, and—

Jaemin suddenly grabbed your suitcase handle before you could go, his hand right beside yours. You locked eyes with him, wide and surprised.

He landed a kiss right on your lips.

“Call me when you arrive, okay?”

You mindlessly nodded, still in the midst of recovering from shock. Your mother called out to you to start moving.

As you walked away, head still locked behind, you watched as the four screamed, cheered, and teased your boyfriend as they shook and pushed him around like a ragdoll, while he just kept on looking at you with a smile.

“Don’t worry, Y/N! I’ll record his crying face!”

Haechan screamed despite being several feet away already, and you stifled out a laugh.

You might have to say goodbye today, but time will come when you would meet again.

Across the cobblestone tiled sidewalk, people were walking about, the streets were filled with tourists and natives, the mid noon sun was just in reach. Summers had always been crowded in the city, and you were swimming in the middle of the crowd in a far too inappropriate attire, sweating as you spoke into the phone.

“Oh, yeah. I’m on my way to the gallery now— I had to stop by at a cafe first, though.”

“You seem busy.”

Jaemin’s voice echoed from your phone’s speakers. The streetlight turned red. You followed the crowd as you crossed the street.

“Yeah… It’s a lot of back and forth work, even on the last day of the show, but it’s all worth it,”you replied. “Did you know that people kept on asking me who my muse was for Mahiwaga? Ever the popular boy, even when you’re not here.”

It has been a year and a half since you first got to France. Things have been going well on your part with your budding art career— and so far you’ve guested in three exhibitions, but you have yet to have one solo. Even though you and Jaemin promised to see each other during breaks, it was practically impossible to align your time. He was busy with internships and his organizations this year and so were you. But one thing the both of you have faithfully maintained throughout the course of your time away was calling each other every day, even if it was just for a few minutes.

A cyclist sped past you. Jaemin’s voice was heard again. He laughed at your last remark, saying that he wasn’t that popular, but all of a sudden his voice turned into a more serious tone.

“Since you have a lot of work these days…”

Your brows furrowed, squinting as the light shone into your eyes. You clutched your sling bag, heels clattering as you passed by the cream, brown, and grey buildings.

“Should we call less often?”

You stopped in your tracks.

What?

“No— no, Jaems, what are you saying? Are you sick? Are you not feeling well?” you were almost late for the opening, but you couldn’t care less at the moment. What was he on about? Call less? Never had that crossed your mind even once. “I don’t even get to see you anymore, so if anything… we should call as often as we can.”

A few people passed from behind. His end of the line was silent. Your lips scrunched into a frown, confused.

“Jaemin?”

“That’s a relief.”

Before you could even ask him anything, the call ended.

“What the hell?” you huffed, staring at your phone screen in perplexity before you returned it to your pocket. Maybe he was feeling a lot more lonely than usual— that was unavoidable, but the both of you made it work. You should ask him what that was all about later. Now, you really needed to head to the gallery. With a sigh, you marched forward, stopping at an intersection where the large, eggshell white walls of the gallery stood across.

You stopped before the crosswalk, the lights green, and a few vehicles passed by, and your thoughts were once again clouded by Na Jaemin and why did he suddenly propose that. Was he getting sick of you? Was this his way of hinting a breakup? Your face contorted into a look of horror. No, you shook your head at the notion. He literally sent you a picture of a weird keychain last night  saying it reminded him of you. Another sigh. The light went red. You crossed the street.

Maybe it was because you were thinking too much of him, maybe you were missing him too much, but the moment you reached the middle of the crosswalk, your heart suddenly stopped, legs froze, eyes stuck to the sight right in front of you.

There he stood, right before the front stairs of the gallery with dozens of people disappearing and passing by. He spotted you, eyes lighting up, the corners of lips automatically quirking upwards. He sent you a small wave.

You ran.

“Hi— woah!”

Maybe you were causing a scene, but you didn’t care. You couldn’t find it in you to care when Na Jaemin was right fucking here. He chuckled when you suddenly ran into him, wrapping you in a tight hug that matched your own. “You know, I was afraid that you’d actually agree to limiting our calls,” he started, and you looked up, the light shining into your eyes. Jaemin’s smile was as bright as the sun. “I thought I would have to deport myself back to Korea.”

Your lips quivered, unable to hold it back. Yeah, you shook your head, a shaky laugh leaving your lips. It’s always been like this.

“Is this where you’re holding the exhibit? Wow, it’s a lot bigger than in pictures.”

There are points in your life where you’re met with a choice— to stay or leave, to smile or cry. Always him between something else. Twice. You’ve said goodbye to him twice choosing to leave. For a moment, it might seem that you’ve chosen the other. But that was never the case, because at the end of each day it was him you were thinking of, it was him that your lines end, it would always be—

“Y/N? Y/N? Are you crying?” he exclaimed, frowning as he wiped away your tears. “Ah, it’s such a happy day today, you shouldn’t be crying.”

“I missed you, you dummy.”

—Him. You’d always choose him. Na Jaemin. Jaems. Nana. Your childhood best friend. Your boyfriend—

He smiled at you, eyes shining, pressing a kiss on your forehead before taking you into his arms once more with a shaky breath. “I missed you too.”

—Your mahiwaga.

hannie-dul-set, 2020.

[prettytoxicrevolver]

Hotel | Dream

Requested? Bruh of course not

Warnings? None?

Summary: You and your best friend Dream go on vacation together and end up admitting feelings

Word Count: 2,100

Last fic of me going off during April!! Hope y'all enjoy :)

“Charger?”

“Yup,” you say, tossing it into your purse.

“Your medicine? My medicine? Sunscreen? Money?” he lists off and you giggle as you nod.

“Yes we have everything,” you say giggling at your best friend.

You and Dream were headed to Hawaii for the first time together and you both were beyond excited. You had been planning this for months together, getting every tiny detail figured out. You had always wanted to travel together as best friends and when you both finally had enough money, you started to plan for Hawaii.

“Plane tickets?” you ask and Dream holds up the papers for you two.

You smile wide, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of your shared apartment. You head to the airport, talking excitedly about the trip and all of the things you were going to do when you get there.

“You know I’m gonna ask you to take a million pictures of me while we’re there right?” you ask as you sit down in your airplane seats.

“Can't wait for all the “who took the photo?!?” comments,” he jokes and you roll your eyes but smile nonetheless.

“Hey we can always take faceless photos of you on the beach,” you say and Dream shakes his head.

“No way.”

The plane ride is long, with ten hours of uncomfortable seats and gross airplane food but being with Dream makes the time fly and the company easy. You both start off with headphones in, trying to get some rest but soon enough you’re both restless.

Granted you weren’t doing well in the first place. Being near dream had your stomach in your shoes and your heart in your fingertips at all times. To be stuck on a plane for ten hours with him? You were surprised you hadn’t died from how fast your heart rate was going.

You were desperately trying to will yourself back to sleep, moving just barely to rest your head against the window. Just as you’re moving around, you feel a tap on your hand making you look over at Dream. You pull a headphone out and he gestures to the tiny tv screen in front of him.

“Wanna watch a movie?”

You nod and watch as Dream scrolls through the selection of movies, looking at you every once in a while when he stops on one he might want to watch. You end up on a random action movie, one you’ve probably watched with your dad on a Saturday morning, and Dream hands you the other headphone. Your hands brush as you take it from him, sending your heart through the roof of the plane at the contact.

As the movie drones on, you regain the tiredness you once pursued and let out a long yawn. Dream casts a glance at you, a soft smile placed on his lips as he watches your sleepy eyes blink slowly to stay awake.

“Come here,” he says quietly and you look up at him.

He lays his hand out flat on the armrest and you carefully slip your arm around his, before placing your hand in his. You lean over, placing your head on his shoulder and Dream reciprocates the action, resting his head on yours.

You swear you can feel your heartbeat pounding in your fingertips, worry flooding you that he’ll notice your nerves. However, when you risk a glance up at the blonde he’s half asleep, his eyes fluttered shut.

The rest of the plane ride feels quick, you and Dream both sleeping for the majority of it but by the time you land you’re happy to be able to get off the plane and stretch your legs. By the time you grab your things and are in the car on the way to the hotel, you swear you’re about to fall asleep again.

“Sleepyhead, we’re here,” Dream says, nudging you and you look up to see you’re rolling to a stop at the hotel.

You both get out of the car, grabbing your things, and heading inside. Because Hawaii was six hours behind Florida time, it was 10 am, when at home it would normally be 4 pm. You could feel the jet lag setting in, your body fighting against you as you and Dream checked into your hotel.

“And that’s the one king-sized bed for 4 nights?” the man at the service desk asks. The question wakes you up in seconds, your attention at the mixup.

“Wait it was supposed to be two queen-sized beds,” Dream corrects.

“I’m sorry sir, we only have this room,” the man says and Dream turns to look at you. You shrug your shoulders and Dream mimics the action.

“Okay.”

When you get to your room, sure enough, there’s only one bed in the center of the room, and you and Dream exchange glances at the sight of it. You try to brush off the awkwardness, making your way into the room before dropping your stuff and collapsing onto the comfortable mattress.

“Naptime,” you announce.

“No no no,” Dream says grabbing your hands and pulling you up until you’re sitting up straight.

“You have to beat the jet lag, it’s only 10 so let’s go get some breakfast, and then we can explore okay?”

You groan but let Dream pull you up anyway. You grab your purse, and the two of you head out for breakfast at the closest restaurant near you. As the two of you eat, you plan your first day here, deciding to explore the beaches, stores near you, and anything else that seems interesting.

You end up at an aquarium, one you had spotted on the way to the hotel, and head over. You had always loved aquariums since your dad had taken you to one close to your hometown growing up. You still fell in awe of them whenever you visited one.

“Come on!” you say grabbing Dream’s hand and dragging him behind you.

“Okay child,” he jokes and you roll your eyes.

You two make your way through the aquarium, unconsciously hand in hand with one another. You practically drag Dream along, placing your face up against the glass and point out fish and beautiful animals to the taller boy.

“See? It’s a clownfish,” you explain.

Dreams heart had been racing ever since you had entered the aquarium hand slipped into his without even thinking about it. He loved watching you walk through the attractions, eyes aglow with wonder and face lit up like a kid on Christmas. It made him fall for you more than he already had.

He leans forward moving your once connected hands so that he can slip an arm around your shoulder, his head falling next to yours until you’re practically cheek to cheek.

“It’s pretty,” he says and you forget to respond, the closeness of your best friend making you dizzy.

You settle for a nod, and the two of you start to move again, Dream’s arm staying around your shoulders and you slip one around his waist. You make your way around the rest of the place, your hearts unknowingly beating at the same fast rhythm but both of you find comfort in the nerves.

“Where to next?” you ask Dream when you finish the aquarium.

You two end up going for a drive, just wanting to explore the island for a bit before making your way back, occasionally stopping at a store or two to see what’s inside. You finally make it back to the hotel to change before heading out to a nice dinner together.

As you walk out of the bathroom, clad in a nice dress, wedges, and your purse thrown over your shoulder, this time you don’t miss the dumbstruck look Dream is giving you. However, you swear you mimic his expression, the blonde dressed in a white button-down, dress pants, and dress shoes.

“Holy shit,” you whisper.

“Fuck,” he breathes out.

Upon hearing each other’s voices, you snap out of your dazed states, offering a sheepish smile to Dream before walking out of the open door. Dream follows you out, the two of quiet as you head to the restaurant together.

“Do you mind if I?” you question pointing to the drinks another couple holds and Dream shakes his head.

“No, go for it. If anything happens you know I’ll take care of you,” he responds making your heart swell.

You knew Dream didn’t drink and you would never pressure him to. However, your nerves were getting the best of you and the drinks on the menu were tempting. You order one, taking a sip of the concoction of alcohol and letting it soothe some of the nerves you were facing.

As dinner progresses, you and Dream talk about the rest of vacation, what else you wanted to do before you left, what other restaurants you wanted to try, already where you were planning to take Instagram photos, etc. You couldn’t help feeling less and less nervous but you weren’t sure if it was the drinks or Dream’s easy presence in front of you.

You don’t realize how many you had ordered until you stand up, the room spinning around you. You reach out, Dream taking your hand with a concerned look on his face and when you gain your bearings you smile dorkily at the taller boy.

“Okay let’s get you back to the room,” he says and wraps an arm around your waist to steady you.

You make it back to the hotel room, your hands intertwined with Dream, your best friend not opposed to your love language increasing when you’re drunk. You make it up to the hotel room with little struggle and in your drunken state, you decide you want to dance.

“Dream,” you whine, and the blonde smiles at you.

“Yes, darling?”

“Come dance with me,” you say, holding your hands out to him.

Dream laughs but lets you take his hands in yours anyway. You slip your arms around his neck, and he wraps one arm around your waist before reaching for his phone. He messes with something on there for a minute before music floods the tiny room. He places his phone down on the TV stand before wrapping his other arm around your waist.

The two of you sway slowly around the room, you becoming increasingly more sober the more you think about Dream, his hands on you, the proximity of the two of you, the sweet gestures and words from the day, everything.

Dream wasn’t far behind you, absolutely mesmerized by the sight of you. Your lips curved into a small smile as you looked up at him. The way you were yourself around him with no apologies and how he wanted to hold you, love you, and protect you forever.

You both don’t realize how close you are and getting until you're centimeters away. The tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Without a second thought in his head, Dream ducks down, pressing a kiss to your lips. The contact knocks you sober instantly, you pull Dream as close as possible and you can practically feel your best friend smile into the kiss.

When you pull apart, you’re both grinning like idiots at each other. The music still plays in the background as you get changed, dance a little more, and ultimately fall asleep together.

The rest of vacation flies by, beaches and shopping, restaurants, cute dates, everything made a thousand times better now that the two of you had admitted your feelings for one another. By the time you land back in Florida, you can’t tell if you’re happy to be home, sad to be away from vacation, or nervous about what was going to happen between you and Dream now.

As you get off the plane, Dream slips an arm around your shoulders and your thoughts of doubt only seem to increase for some reason.

“Hey,” you say gaining his attention. You stop in front of him, your hands twisting nervously in front of you as you try to ask your next question.

“Are we still,” you trail off gesturing between the two of you. “Now that we’re home.”

Dream doesn’t answer, simply wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you in. He dips down pressing a long kiss to your lips that has you falling for him all over again.

“Does that answer your question?” he asks pulling inches away.

You nod, smiling widely before leaning up to place your lips on Dream’s again in a kiss that makes your stomach do backflips.

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Stare Enough

Fandom: The Falcon and the Winter Soldier Pairing: Sam Wilson/Bucky Barnes Rating: T Word Count: 4034

Summary: Bucky's got a new stare. Sam spends all afternoon and most of the evening working up the courage to meet it.

Both Sam and the food are the main attraction at this party and the problem with that situation is that it takes so damn long for one main attraction to get a second to enjoy the other.

He’s grateful—god, is he grateful—for the turnout. Friends, neighbours, the kind of people he and Sarah call family without there being any actual relation by blood, they’ve all shown up. Since the Blip, Sam’s felt like he’s always around, but this feels like a real homecoming. No sadness, nothing bittersweet. It’s a celebration and he’s at the center of it. Him and the food.

At last, Sam’s done the circuit with his plate, spooning creamy salads and grilled vegetables, stacking shellfish pink as a sunrise. There’s a fresh-baked roll perched atop a scoop of sweet potatoes and caramelized onions that smells so fucking warm and mouth-watering he has to resist walking with his nose buried in it. He collects a set of utensils furled in the middle of a paper napkin (courtesy of an efficient assembly line of old ladies, chatting and twisting neat rolls of cutlery), plate bowing into the palm of his other hand, and that’s when his damn phone vibrates in his pocket.

Sam halts and makes a sound of frustration. Nobody’s come to this thing empty-handed, so there are dishes crowding the surface of the tables, no place to set his plate down. His phone vibrates again. A teenager comes up to peruse the spread in front of him and Sam sighs, knowing what he’s about to do.

“Here,” he says heavily, offering up his beautifully arranged and wonderfully fragrant meal. The cob of corn shining with the butter he lovingly smeared over it nearly rolls over the edge. “You’re the luckiest kid in the world.”

Quickly, Sam turns away, sliding out his phone and bringing it to his ear. He doesn’t want to witness the boy digging in. His stomach growls as he greets Joaquin Torres.

“Sam,” Torres says. “Uh, I mean, sir. Mr. Captain Am… Captain Wil—”

“Take it easy,” Sam laughs. “You know me, Torres. Don’t get starstruck now.”

“Honestly, I never really got over you being the Falcon. Now that you’re Captain America… Apologies if it takes me a little while to be cool about it.” After a pause—taken while Torres attempts to become cool with Sam being Captain America, Sam assumes—he asks, “You celebrating?”

Not far from where Sam’s standing, there are two little girls singing along to their clapping game. At a table behind them, a trio of elderly gentlemen are arguing over which one of them it was that caught that 50-pound snapper off the dock back in 1978. There’s a sear of meat and fish being rotated onto and off of the grill and, bouncing over everything, music from a speaker someplace.

“Yeah,” Sam says with a broad grin. “Yeah, we are. I’d save you a plate, but I can’t even manage to hang onto my own.”

He doesn’t mention that Torres is responsible for that situation; he’s aware that, besides being a fan, the Lieutenant is a little bit infatuated with him. Sam’s trying to be gentle until the day he can respond to Torres with friendly smack-talk, the way he would Steve or Scott or Bucky. Maybe not exactly like he does with Bucky.

“Don’t worry about it,” Torres cheerfully insists. “I wasn’t calling for that, I just wanted to give you a heads up about something.”

“Alright. Let me just…”

Sam strides away from the heart of the party towards the water, seeking quiet. Kids dart in front of him and that’s nothing unusual, but when he follows them with his gaze, he sees they’re running towards Bucky. Bucky, who has his Vibranium arm extended and two kids dangling off it already, one of whom might be Sam’s nephew. Of course, Mr. Casual, Mr. Smiles, Mr. Social Butterfly, is carrying on a conversation like his arm isn’t being used as a jungle gym. A conversation with Sarah.

For just a moment, Sam stops in his tracks, considering whether he should go over there and break up any potential flirting. But then he watches them. Bucky’s just talking to her, not flicking his gaze up and down while he checks her out. And Sarah, she’s relaxed and smiling, totally at ease, like Bucky’s another member of their community. That makes him a friend. Family.

That’s one thought too far and Sam jerks himself into motion again, walking until he’d be swimming with another step.

“What’ve you got for me?”

“Well, I’ve been trying to watch as much of the coverage of the fight outside the GRC vote as I can, trying to get a sense of how they’re spinning Walker’s reappearance, the legacy of the Flag-Smashers now that Karli and her inner circle are gone… Anyway, there’s a lot of footage and you’re at the center of most of it.”

“Guess the new suit draws the eye. And the cameras.” It’s no surprise to Sam. Part of the job of being Captain America.

“Yeah, but…”

“What is it, Torres?”

“Bucky’s in the background a lot,” he explains in a voice that tells Sam there’s more Torres isn’t saying.

“Makes sense. He was in the thick of it as much as I was.”

“He’s there at the end too. When you were talking to the Senator about power and the common struggle. Man, that was a great speech. Do you think—”

“Torres. Please. The point.”

“Right, for sure, man. Bucky never takes his eyes off you.”

That flusters Sam for a second. He wasn’t expecting the blunt delivery, especially of those words. He squints down at the water where it’s lapping the side of the dock. He knew Bucky was there; they spoke right after, when Bucky tried to feed him that bullshit (and he knew it was bullshit at the time) about texting and missing the exact speech Torres is apparently still hung up on.

“So Bucky was actually listening to me,” Sam says carefully. “That’s a surprise, but it isn’t really the kind of thing that’s significant enough for you to bother notifying me about, is it?”

“I’d say that depends on what you consider significant.”

“Torres.”

“I know, but he’s not just listening! It’s how he’s looking at you!”

“Like he’s wishing I would wrap it up?” Oh, Sam remembers Bucky’s miracle from their session with Dr. Raynor.

“Like he’s totally into you! Major heart eyes. Sir,” Torres hastily adds.

And Sam should reprimand him for this. Calling with a trivial piece of information when he must know Sam’s already being very selective about which of the hundreds of recent calls (and it’d be more if more people had this number) he chooses to pick up. Calling to speculate on how Bucky was staring at Sam that night in New York.

“I don’t need to tell you this is gonna be one of those investigations we keep between you and me,” Sam states.

“For sure. I just thought maybe you’d wanna know.”

“Uh huh. You get any real news, you pass it along.”

“I will.”

Sam ends the call and turns. He looks to his right: the sparkling river. His left: his people, all the way down to the squirt with the glasses who’s hanging off a metal arm, and the man that arm belongs to.

He’s felt it, the way that Bucky stares. It’s not like it used to be though, when it irked Dr. Raynor at the police station in Baltimore, or confused Walker and Hoskins in the back of that jeep in Germany. This new stare of Bucky’s isn’t one Sam’s ever caught him doing. Bucky hasn’t quite let him. That’s actually how Sam noticed it was happening—Bucky would immediately glance away instead of leaving that dead expression on his face when Sam met his eye. Now that he has proof of it, proof he’s certain Torres would send him footage of in an instant if he asked, he’s scared to look.

Instead, he watches Bucky look at other people. Like Sarah. Like kids from the neighbourhood. His literal hangers-on disperse as Sam observes, scattered after Bucky leans towards them to say something. Sam sees half his smile and even that much has his heart swelling up in his chest. Bucky weaves through the tables and standing groups, the dancers and the kids who’ve broken out a skipping rope. (After eating from that buffet? Kids are crazy. Gonna make themselves sick.)

Without thinking too hard about it, Sam returns to the noise and the smells, trailing Bucky with a stealthy eye on his ass in those jeans. There’s no friction here between him and everybody else Sam cares about, he can see that in every short, friendly exchange someone engages Bucky in as he walks. Things flow as smoothly as the butter oozing off the corn Sam reluctantly gave up. Clearly, they remember Bucky from when he was here helping with the boat. They respect him. They like him. They’ve gotten to that last thing faster than Sam has, which makes Sam feel a little embarrassed as well as a little overwhelmed by how much the two of them have actually been through. He’s seen Bucky as a mindless killer and it almost brings a genuine tear to his eye—here on this glorious day in front of all these folks—to see the dork who rushed out to get his hands on a copy of The Hobbit in 1937 return in his current form as the dork who’ll take a fake punch from AJ and blush over brazen old women telling him how handsome he is.

Bucky stares different? Well. Sam feels different about the staring.

Sam keeps his distance until Bucky reaches the food, then his stomach gurgles a reminder than he hasn’t eaten yet. No ass is nice enough to distract him from his meal. He sidles up beside him and Bucky seems unsurprised, not even glancing over.

“Anything important?” he asks.

“What?”

“Your phone call,” Bucky clarifies, adding a heap of glossy green beans to his plate. Damn, those are some of Sam’s favourite. Bucky better not take all of them. “They need us somewhere?”

“Oh. No.”

Bucky shoots him a suspicious look after this stilted response, but he doesn’t say anything until Sam grabs a plate of his own, hungry eyes roving the feast that’s diminishing now that people have started coming back for second helpings.

“Put that down,” Bucky instructs. He doesn’t wait; he takes the plate out of Sam’s hand and tosses it back towards the pile. Thankfully, the plates are made of paper.

“Buzz off, man,” Sam tells him, reaching for the plate again. “I’m starving.”

“I figured.”

Wait.

“That’s for me?” he guesses, gazing longingly at the plate Bucky’s preparing.

“Yep.”

When Sam doesn’t reply, Bucky pauses with the plate in one hand and a serving spoon in the other and sighs.

“I didn’t want you to miss the good stuff. This party’s for you.”

“I think it might be for both of us.”

Bucky seems too self-conscious to say anything to that. He goes back to loading up Sam’s plate while Sam quietly feels his throat close up with emotion as he watches. He clears it gruffly.

“I woulda had to eat the cake you brought,” he jokes. “Pretty sure only the really little kids have eaten any. You know, people who don’t know better.”

“I was tryin’ to be a good guest.”

“I can’t believe you brought a store-bought cake,” Sam says, laughing as he grabs a set of cutlery for the second time and continuing to shuffle along next to Bucky.

“Have you ever seen me cook?”

“…No.”

“Exactly. Trust me, what I did was kinder.”

“If you say so.”

“You know what, Sam?” Bucky demands challengingly, turning to face him. “I do say so.”

Sam’s eyes go from the plate Bucky’s holding between them up to Bucky’s face. He’s close. And he’s got this look, this dancing look in his eyes that undercuts the shit out of the hard line of his eyebrows. Trying to seem all stern. All Sam can think for several seconds is that, if he just grabbed Bucky by the chain around his neck and hauled him forward, they’d never get the food stains out of their clothes. But their laundry would smell delicious.

He clears his throat.

“Then you better stay for a while.”

The corner of Bucky’s mouth twitches up and he hands Sam the plate he’s prepared for him.

“I plan to.”

When Sam picks a table to sit at, he makes sure there’s enough room for Bucky too. When Bucky sits next to him, he sits so close that their thighs press together and claims that’s all the space there is. Bucky talks and laughs when other people at the table talk to him. He’s easily drawn into conversation now and Sam feels weirdly proud of having brought this great guy home to meet everybody, even if he’s not here like that. People tells stories about last week and last century interchangeably, one old smartass making Bucky howl with laughter when they toss out a memory of Little Sam Wilson streaking from his house to the river for a naked swim. This is the danger of welcoming Bucky into the community. Sam, suppressing a smile, doesn’t really mind.

Elbows up on the table so he can eat, talk, and gesture emphatically with his fork, Sam feels Bucky’s stare creeping up on him. Slow, like the sun slides across the landscape when the clouds blow past. Bucky didn’t make this food, but Sam can feel his satisfaction as he watches Sam accept what he provided. Feels like there are grasshoppers springing around in his stomach. He still has a roll on his plate, one side soaked in family-secret barbecue sauce, and he tears it in half. While the rest of their table are caught up in some story being boisterously told by overlapping voices, Sam turns to Bucky and wordlessly offers the bread, edges dimpled where he gripped to split it. They watch each other chew and Sam’s closed mouth is smiling.

Inevitably, somebody pulls Sam back into the conversation and he does his best to laugh and heckle, covering the fact that he wasn’t listening, that he dropped the thread. The voices rise and rise and fall like water slopping over the side of a bucket.

In the next quiet moment, Bucky inclines toward him slightly and says, “You wanna talk later?”

And Sam says, “Sure.”

The day feels long, long, long, and Sam’s face gets sore from smiling, tired from talking. He does not confess that to Bucky, who’s almost always at his side. Lights go on overhead and beers come out of coolers, leftover food packed up and redistributed among neighbours, small children with drooping eyelids toted home. At first, Sam thinks Bucky’s leaning into his side because he’s drained from so much socializing too, but when he meets his eye, he just sees an invitation.

“Where are you two goin’?” Sarah asks when they slink past her carrying a too-big Cass in her arms.

“Just walkin’,” Sam tells her.

“Gotta stretch our legs,” Bucky contributes.

She looks from Sam to Bucky and back, smiling knowingly.

“Uh huh,” Sarah says.

Sam grabs Bucky by the shoulder to turn him forcibly away from his sister’s insinuations and just… forgets to let his hand fall as they wander along the water. Bucky’s steps angle towards his until his arm’s bumping Sam’s side, Sam’s arm slung around his shoulders. Is this still the body language of a couple buddies on a warm Delacroix night? Is it now, when Sam drops his arm and brushes the back of his hand across Bucky’s?

They leave the party lights on the horizon with the lazily setting sun, scrabbling off the end of the dock and onto the riverbank. Sam reaches up to give Bucky a hand down, so he won’t step in the soft mud and sink to his ankles. Bucky clasps his hand firmly and jumps.

The sound of people drops off down here and the sound of wind in grass, frogs hiding between reeds, rises.

“Are there alligators in here?” Bucky wonders, scanning the river’s edge.

Sam laughs.

“For sure.”

“And you swam here when you were a kid?”

“Even then,” Sam boasts, puffing his chest out, “my courage was legendary.”

“Yeah, and your nudity. Is there anyone within a mile of here who hasn’t seen your bare ass?”

Their eye contact holds. Oh right. Sam breaks away with an awkward, hiccupping laugh, directing his gaze at the dirt.

“The gators haven’t gathered too close to the dock in decades,” he promises Bucky. He stares out at the undisturbed water, enjoying the sun on his face. “Got skittish of the boats. Most of ’em, anyway.”

“Consider me not entirely reassured.”

“You scared of a little Louisiana lizard, man? Didn’t you grow up with Creature from the Black Lagoon?”

“Nah, that was after my time.”

“Damn, you’re old.”

Bucky snorts a laugh, refusing to look at him.

“You wanna take a dip?” Sam goads.

“No.”

But by the time Sam’s pulling his shirt over his head, Bucky’s peeling off his socks. Sam spares him a smile and keeps going, the ground soft underfoot. It could be like the few times they’ve changed in proximity to one another before, but it’s not. He senses Bucky’s eyes on him the whole time. Face hot, he takes a quick look in Bucky’s direction as he’s unzipping his jeans. His heart feels like his new suit—wings just waiting to unfurl.

When they’re down to their underwear, they wade in.

God, it feels nice. The water’s cool and the sun’s clinging to the horizon.

“Just don’t get any water in your mouth,” Sam instructs, then dunks his face and comes up squirting water at Bucky from between the gap in his front teeth, a trick he perfected as a kid. “That arm ain’t gonna rust, right?”

“You asked for this,” Bucky warns. He points a menacing finger and plunges below the surface.

Sam twists as he treads water, trying to see what’s going on down there, searching for a ripple or bubbles of released air. His legs move in twitchy kicks because that’s where he’s expecting Bucky to grab him. But the idiot is playing some kind of psychological game first, making Sam wait a full minute. Two minutes. Three.

He’s opening his mouth to call out Bucky’s name when he breaks the surface. Sam’s ready to swap the concern he was about to form into words into a taunt instead—did Bucky get down there and decide the scariest thing he could do was let Sam’s imagination take over?—until Bucky shakes his head and slicks his hair back. Then the words get caught in Sam’s throat and he just kinda stares.

“There was a really gross fish down there,” Bucky informs him. “Do you guys have eels there? Mighta been an eel. Maybe we should get out.”

“Alrighty, scaredy-cat, let’s get you to shore.”

Bucky propels himself out in front, arms moving in powerful strokes, and Sam’s hand darts out on instinct, fingers closing around Bucky’s hard calf muscle. Bucky jerks and Sam burst into loud laughter.

“Did you think that was an eel? Did you?”

“You’re lucky I…”

I’m lucky you what? Sam wants to ask when Bucky trails off, but he just swims after him.

During their game/possible eel panic (there’s no way it was an eel), they weren’t always fighting the current, so they’ve drifted downstream some. Bucky takes sloppy, sloshing steps out of the water, underwear that might’ve been light grey now dark and plastered to his ass. Sam feels like he’s choked on river water, though his mouth is dry. He lumbers out too and they begin the march back in the direction of the dock and their clothes. The water tickles as it runs down Sam’s legs; must be bugging Bucky too because he plucks his waistband away from his skin before letting it snap back. Clenching his jaw, Sam stops himself from trying to see too much.

This end of the dock is made of old boards before it transitions to pavement farther down, wood smooth on Sam’s feet when he and Bucky haul themselves up, dropping their collected clothes and shoes into a single pile. No point getting dressed until they’re dry, so they sit on the edge of the dock, feet swinging. Feels good. Feels home. They don’t speak until the sun’s set, the sky orange, then grey, then rich, velvety blue.

“You know, don’t you?” Bucky asks softly.

“Know?”

“Yeah, you know. Whenever you don’t know something, you talk and talk—”

“Sometimes I can work through a problem better if I vocalize,” Sam explains.

“But when you do know,” Bucky goes on, ignoring Sam’s input, “you’re quiet.” He looks at Sam. “You’re quiet.”

What else is Sam? Nervous. His skin’s prickling with it, and because even the warm air feels cold when he’s just climbed out of the river. There’s a wet patch spreading around him that he can barely see with evening rapidly deepening into night. He lifts a hand from the dock and sweeps it up his neck, brushing water droplets away.

Without glancing over, he says, “You’re doing that thing you do.”

“What?”

“Staring. That new stare you do.”

“Maybe,” Bucky acknowledges. A bird starts calling, the sound drifting in and away like the sway of a hypnotist’s watch and Bucky’s silent until it’s over. “Maybe I’m staring for the same reason you’re quiet.”

Sam waits. Bucky doesn’t add anything, so Sam turns to look at his face, hung with cool shadows.

“You’re not gonna say it, are you?”

“I thought you would say it,” Bucky argues defensively.

“You’re the one who’s been staring at me like that for a week. You should go first!”

“Please, you don’t even know how I’m staring at you, I only do it when you’re not looking.”

“Do it now then and see what happens,” Sam dares him.

“Fine.”

Just like that, Bucky locks in like Sam’s attention is the only handhold on a sheer cliffside. Vital and stable, a last chance, the one thing around him that wants to help him higher instead of watching him fall. A lot of that’s familiar from his regular hard stare, but then something opens up behind his eyes. Some fragile thing (that might be Bucky’s sense of caution) breaks. Suddenly, Sam’s seeing what Joaquin saw in the news footage and amateur cell phone video. Except he’s seeing it two feet in front of him. It’s intense. It makes the air a little harder to breathe.

Bucky’s lips curve into a smile, then part as he says, “I love—”

Hopefully, he wasn’t going to end that sentence with ‘store-bought cake,’ because Sam can’t really take back his reaction. The finger slipping behind Bucky’s ear as he cradles his face, the mouth sealed to his. Especially that. Thankfully, Bucky kisses him back, just as hard, and then harder.

“Thank god,” Sam pants when they break apart.

“You interrupted me.”

“I got you to stop talking? Guess we’re in my miracle.”

“I’d complain…” Bucky shrugs. “…but your miracle is pretty nice.”

“Not bad, right?”

He sighs and looks out over the water. Bucky pushes up on his fists and sits closer, offering his hand for Sam to interlace their fingers.

“Hey,” Sam prompts when it hits him that it’s super dark outside and they aren’t gonna dry much more like this, “did you book a hotel room again?”

“You kiddin’ me? I spent all my money on that cake.”

Sam laughs.

“Right, well, I guess you need a place to stay tonight then.”

“You know anything nearby?” Bucky asks with a soft smile.

Getting to his feet and bracing to pull Bucky up after him, Sam uses his free hand to motion towards their clothing pile.

“Put your pants on,” he says, “and I’ll see what I can do.”

[anonquack]

| History |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 5047

Warnings: None! Just some curse words.

Summary: Breakups hurt. Confrontations hurt. Separation hurts. But when it feels like all is ending, you and Alex always find a way to make things work. [Angst -> Fluff]

After a loud plop of a box against the floor, you brought your hand up to wipe away the sweat that was now resting on your forehead. Yuck.

In an effort to avoid letting your thoughts take over and throw you into a spiral of regret and sadness, you had been cleaning and reorganizing your room. You took this moment to look around, eyes scouting every inch of the room in search for something you could've possibly missed.

The room looked almost spotless at this point. The box you had just plopped down onto the floor contained a lot of the stuff you planned on throwing away. Everything else had been dusted, thoroughly cleaned and placed back where it belonged. Looking at your organized, comfy, bed made you realize just how tired you felt at this very moment.

But there was no time to rest. Rest meant time to think about what had happened. Time to think about what had been lost.

You let out a small sigh as you walked over to the untouched part of your room; the closet. This part didn't necessarily have to be organized, since no one would come into the room and specifically open up the closet. But at this very moment, your brain was telling you to clean EVERYTHING in this room.

As soon as you opened the door to the closet, your eyes landed on an item you did not want to see right now. As your eyes continued to roam across all the clothes on the hangers, it started to dawn on you that this might've been a bad idea. Maybe cleaning closets really wasn't necessary.

There were multiple of Alex's hoodies on the hangers, all looking as comfy and cozy as ever, but at this moment they didn't bring that comfort and happiness they usually would. Rather, they brought back all those painful thoughts you'd been trying to avoid.

You gently bit at your lip, slightly frustrated since you'd been 'doing well', cleaning and trying your hardest not to let your thoughts roam.

Your stubbornness to not rest and keep cleaning had been your own demise.

You weren't really sure what to do. Part of you wanted to take one of the hoodies off its hanger, put it on, and crawl into bed. The rational part of you knew you should probably return these to him. You had no business having these in your room anymore.

That thought alone made your stomach twist and turn. It really was over. These past few days had felt like an absolute nightmare, but at the end of the day it was reality. You and Alex had actually broken up. It was all history now.

You reached into the closet, grabbing all the hoodies and placing them onto the chair near your bed. They were a problem for another time. The closet was going to be your distraction for now. You'd avoid facing reality for just a little longer as you organized the shirts and sweaters in your closet.

—

It sucked. Not having anything to do, having nothing to serve as a distraction from the fact that Alex would no longer be a part of your life. You were now sitting on your bed, playing with the strings on the hoodie, remembering how these looked on him.

They fit him so well, some fit loosely against his figure, others fit just right, showing off his toned figure. You vividly remembered how the material of the hoodie had felt whenever he wrapped his arms around you, whenever you would hug him and just snuggle your face close to him, looking for a source of heat.

The memories of how you acquired these hoodies also came flooding back. Some had been him noticing it was cold out and you lacking common sense to bring a sweater to keep yourself warm. Him pulling off the hoodie and handing it to you, the way his cheeks turned red as you thanked him, his eyes narrowing and telling you it wasn't that big of a deal.

Other times you'd directly ask to borrow his hoodie. One that smelled like him just in case he couldn't visit or hang out in the near future and you were in dying need of his affection.

You wondered whether these hoodies might still smell like him. As weird as it might've looked, you were now on your bed, bringing the hoodies up to your face and holding it close, snuggling your ex's damn hoodie to see if it still smelled like him. It was so fucking stupid. It was over.

You set the hoodie down as you felt your eyes water. Not because of sadness, but irritation towards yourself. You'd already spent days crying your eyes out over the breakup, and yet here you were again. There had been progress made already, and now it felt like you were back in square one just because of some fucking hoodies. Cloth.

You gently pinched the bridge of your nose as you took a moment to recollect your thoughts. You'd return the hoodies, and be done with him once and for all.

Picking up your phone and pressing onto his contact, your message history flashed onto the screen. Old messages were spilling all over, making a mess of you all over again. Not what you wanted at all. You'd wanted to delete his contact number and erase the messages, but hadn't been able to bring yourself to do it.

And now, once again, you were dealing with the consequences of being unable to let go. You tried to ignore the old conversations that were on display, instead pulling up the keyboard and typing up a civil message to send.

y/n found some of your hoodies at my place. mind if i give them back?

You felt an uncomfortable feeling settle in your stomach as you waited for the message to deliver, waited for any sign that he might've read it. Waited to see if he would even answer. Maybe he didn't want them back. Maybe part of you hoped you'd at least get to keep something of his, something that made your relationship with him feel real. Made it feel like it indeed happened and wasn't just a part of your imagination. Part of you didn't want it to officially come to an end.

Giving away the last thing of his you had meant officially putting an end to this. Whatever the fuck you had with him. You hadn't even noticed you were biting at your nails until the loud ding brought you back into present time.

alex sounds good. where would you want to meet?

It was starting to feel real. The split was at hand's length away. Meeting him to hand the hoodies over solidified the end.

y/n maybe the library? its near both of our dorms.

alex alright. see you in 20?

y/n yea.

Such simple discourse was already eating at you. This wasn't him. But that was to be expected. You weren't his anymore and he wasn't yours. Nothing would ever be how it was.

Even with that realization, you still looked at yourself in the mirror, checking to see if there was any signs that you'd been crying, or just you looking like shit overall. A few glances and strokes to the hair and you were ready to go, the small stack of hoodies resting on your arm as you walked out of your dorm room. To officially end things.

—

As you walked towards the library, you noticed it was rather quiet. Nobody was out and about at this time, it was peaceful. It gave you a moment to really reflect on all that had taken place. What had lead to you being here, on your way to officially cut all ties with Alex.

It had been a misunderstanding, really. Something that was going to happen eventually. Being college students with different majors and goals was challenging enough. But balancing the giant workloads and quality time with your partner had proven to be difficult for him, and perhaps even you too. There was effort being made in the beginning, but recently it had just not been the same. Perhaps things change, feelings change, but it didn't change the fact that it hurt.

After a few confrontations and harsh arguments, he had stated that he didn't want to be in a relationship if it meant that attention was required of him this often. He admitted it felt like a chore recently, having all his school work and also having you to deal with, especially when you got confrontational.

It had been heartbreaking hearing him say that you were the reason for his recent headaches and that he no longer was enjoying the aspect of a relationship. He wanted space, he wanted to have a moment where he could do absolutely nothing. Not have to worry about another individual's feelings. It was valid, and you had agreed that it would be best if you two just broke up. Clearly if you two weren't going to be happy, it was better to just end it.

You really couldn't blame or hate him. He was studying law, and you could only imagine how stressful and difficult it must be. And to have to worry about a relationship on top of that must've been hellish.

You couldn't shake off the memories though, all the great parts of your relationship. You struggled too. You had homework too, but he was the highlight of your college experience.

Even if you were drowning in homework, you knew you could waltz into Alex's dorm and just cuddle with him for a bit. You knew he would walk into your room any second of the day just to declare you two were going to take a break from studying to go eat at this place he'd found near the university. He was the light that shined brightly and took you out of the holes you dug yourself into when you worked too hard and barely had time to take care of yourself.

You thought you had the same effects on him, but instead you were draining him of energy. The hangouts and time spent wasn't a nice break for him, it was a chore. It was something he felt obligated to do.

You shook the thoughts away as you noticed the library getting closer and closer. Once you got there, you walked in and headed to where you knew he might be waiting, or where he'd know to go if you were the first to arrive.

Fortunately for you, he still wasn't here, so you simply took a seat and looked around the library. You could feel the guilt settling in your stomach. Perhaps this felt like a chore as well, having to come all the way out here to meet with you, just to get some hoodies you could've dropped off at his dorm. 0 interaction needed.

The small bell rang, notifying everyone inside that the front door had been opened. This was it. He was here. You held your breath as you waited to see Alex, if it even was him who had just gotten here.

Surely, it was. He was wearing these black sweatpants, a white baggy shirt, and his beanie that neatly tucked away the strands of hair that would usually hide his facial features. He looked good, to say the least.

You watched as his eyes scanned the room, looking for you. Once his eyes finally met yours, you felt your breath hitch in anticipation as his brown eyes finally met yours for the first time in about a week or two. It was so nice seeing him again, it felt right, but this was most likely your last time meeting with him.

You watched as he walked over to you, a small, polite smile on your lips as he came closer and closer. Once he was finally standing in front of you, a small, "Hi-" slipped out, which you instantly regretted. It sounded so pathetic.

"Hi." He replied calmly as he took the seat across from where you had been sitting.

He actually sat down. This meant he was planning on sticking around for a bit, right? If he wanted to leave right away, he would've stood, extended his hand out to show that he wanted you to hand him the hoodies. But here he was now, sitting in the chair across from you.

Usually when you two came to the library, he was seated beside you, arm wrapped around your waist as you two scanned a textbook of a shared electives class or both did your own studying. It was always so peaceful and actually allowed you to focus on what you were studying. His presence was so good for you, but it was recently made clear the feeling wasn't mutual.

Right.

You cleared your throat, not ready to hand over the hoodies just yet. "How have you been..?" You asked, trying to maintain a calm tone.

It might've been stupid to try and make conversation with him, but you were hanging on by a thread. You'd risk it, push your luck until the thread snapped and disintegrated in your own hands.

"I've been.. alright. You?" He hesitated to answer, and was currently avoiding eye contact, staring down at the table and then your hands that were placed on top of the hoodie stack.

"I've been okay. Big change to get used to." You admitted, a small chuckle escaping your lips. It was not a laughing matter at all, but you couldn't help it, especially since you were feeling rather nervous.

"It is a big change." He admitted as well, finally looking up to meet your gaze. The eye contact broke your heart. Usually looking into his brown eyes would heal any and every scar that may appear on your heart, patch up anything that may be breaking, but now it was these brown eyes that were killing you and breaking you apart.

It was now your turn to look away, settling your gaze on the strings of the hoodie, hands playing with them absent-mindedly.

The soft fabric against your finger tips reminded you why you were here in the first place, making you finally look up at him again. You were surprised to see that his gaze was already on you. Although your eyes widened slightly, you quickly brought them back to normal and cleared your throat, pushing the hoodies forward and towards him.

"Found these in my closet and figured you might want them back. They've been washed." You clarified towards the end as you watched him take hold of them.

And that's when it was official. They were now under his possession again, not yours. The hoodies were no longer yours, he was not yours. You could feel the lump forming in your throat at the thought, and figured it wasn't a good idea to be at this library for even a second longer.

You watched as he looked down at the hoodie stack that he was now holding. It seemed like there was something he wanted to say, yet was clearly holding back. It was a horrible sight to see. You knew you'd be thinking about this gaze, the words his eyes screamed, the words he failed to verbally say now. It would eat at you during late nights in the near future.

—

Now that the hoodies were in his hands, he realized just how real the breakup was. He hadn't been doing too well himself, beating himself up for reacting that way, for lashing out on you that way. For saying things he hadn't meant, and had only said because he was stressed out and in serious need of space. That was all it was.

And now here he was, sat in front of his ex, receiving the hoodies he had gladly gave them. He remembered when he handed each of these, what the occasion was and how cute you'd looked once you'd put it on. The pride that had filled his chest at the sight of you in his hoodie. How lovesick he'd felt whenever you came to his dorm with his hoodie on, when you wore it out in public and let everyone know that you were indeed taken. By Alex himself.

And now here he was. You couldn't even look at him for a few seconds without having to tear your eyes away. He wondered if you had cried just as much as he had, if you had blamed yourself or called yourself clingy, annoying, the worst of the worst because of the horrible things he had said to you. All things which he greatly regrets now.

When he had walked into the library, he'd spotted you almost instantly, sat at the table where you two would usually study, looking as cozy as ever. If he hadn't fucked up so badly, he would've walked over, wrapped his arms around you and left the softest kiss on your lips, maybe one on your jaw as well as he mumbled "hi baby," against your skin. The laugh that might've escaped your lips at his words and actions, the fact that he can't experience that anymore because he fucked up. It was killing him.

He knew that any second now, you'd stand up and walk out of his life permanently, and there'd be nothing for him to do about it. He'd already caused enough damage with the bullshit he had spewed just a week ago. He couldn't ask anything of you. Not a second chance, not a moment of your time so he could explain that he didn't want to lose you. That he had just been stressed and taken it out on you, tried to blame it all on one person rather than just taking a step back and thinking things through. Admit that he had fucked up. It would be extremely selfish of him to fuck up in the way that he did and then ask for you to forgive him. He just couldn't do it.

He wondered if you could tell how awful he'd been doing. Was it obvious that he hadn't slept? Too busy replaying the scene where he had broken your heart over and over again as he lay in bed, avoiding any and all responsibilities. When you'd reached out to him, he had been laying in bed, quickly getting out and trying to look as composed and not like he'd been feeling like absolute shit this whole past week.

But now he was sitting across from you and the hoodies were in his hands. The exchange had been successful and there was now no business for you to be here. Any second now, you'd stand up and leave him here. For real this time. He wouldn't get to see the way you smiled with your eyes, wouldn't be able to hear nor cause your wonderful laugh. Wouldn't be able to hold you close whenever he pleased, wouldn't be able to kiss you as many times as he wanted. Wouldn't be able to whisper secrets to you as you two lay in bed at 3 in the morning.

No. He had lost those privileges a week ago, as soon as those horrible words left his mouth.

The sound of you clearing your throat brought him back to his senses, along with the sound of the chair scraping against the floor. He quickly looked up, catching the words that were slipping past your lips.

"Well, now that you have your hoodies, I should probably head back to my dorm now." You said softly, an awkward smile on your lips. It was clear you weren't necessarily sure how to say goodbye. He wasn't either.

His thoughts were racing at a million miles per hour in his poor brain, your moves were almost in slow motion in front of him as he panicked and tried to figure out what to do for you to stay.

No matter how many times he had lied to himself and told himself that he would be fine with you finally walking out of his life, it was exactly that. A lie. He wasn't ready. He wouldn't ever be ready to lose such a wonderful person that had walked in and changed his life for the better. Not at least without explaining himself. Asking for a second chance, as selfish as that might've been.

As he stood to his feet, the loud scraping of the chair against the floor caught everyone around you two off guard, especially you as you almost bumped into his chest as he suddenly blocked the path with his body.

"Y/N." He said, almost breathless. Your eyes were wide in confusion at the new barricade that stood between you and the door.

"I-I'm sorry." He finally said. Even if it was just two words, he already felt much better. He wanted you to know, to know that he was indeed sorry for ever saying such horrible things to you.

The shock in your face was evident, your mouth opening and closing slightly, truly at a loss for words. He took this as a sign to continue.

"I'm sorry for the things I said to you that day. They really weren't true. I was just– so stressed and I needed to take that out on someone. And you questioning me and asking why I'd grown distant just pushed me over the edge and I snapped at you. But I didn't mean a single word I said. I love you so much, Y/N. I couldn't fucking live with myself this past week, it's been eating me alive, the fact that I said those horrible things to you. You that could never do harm, you that has helped me so much throughout the years I've known you, whether it be as a friend or as my lover." He paused, it was so clear he was suffering from a severe case of word vomit, and people were staring now.

Your eyes had softened slightly as you listened to his word vomit, but you were cautious, it was evident to him. Your stance said it all. You looked around for a bit before letting out a small sigh.

"Not here, Alex. This is a library. Why don't we go talk somewhere else?" You offered softly, gaze way softer now, almost as if you were being cautious of the state he was currently in, scared he'd fall apart any second now. He silently nodded, leading the way out of the library with you quietly following behind him.

—

Your heart was beating rapidly against your ribcage, unable to truly process what the hell had just happened. Was that real? Did it really happen? Or was this a cruel joke, and soon you'd wake up on your bed, clutching one of his hoodies tightly to your chest.

You were walking behind him as he lead the way out of the library. You replayed the words in your head, unable to grasp that he had actually apologized.

You had gotten up to leave, saying your final goodbyes to him, and that was what lead him to crack. He had stood up quickly to block your path, and had began to spill his apologies, explaining how he's been a mess and feels horrible about the things he had said. He hadn't meant it. You weren't a bother. The relationship wasn't a chore. He perhaps still wanted you.

You had mixed feelings about all of this, especially considering the pain he'd put you through this entire week. But you also were obviously not ready to throw away a relationship that had lasted this long, and that had been going so well up until last week, when he presumably accidentally took it all out on you.

You were brought back to reality as he stopped walking and turned to look at you. He had lead you two to a coffee shop, one that you two frequently visited. Not for the coffee, but for the pastries and other drinks they sold, all quite delicious and a perfect breakfast for when you both were running late.

You looked at him as he opened the door for you to walk in. As you walked in, you were immediately hit with the smell of the freshly baked pastries. He then asked if you could sit while he ordered.

It didn't take long before he was back, with the usual orders you both got from here. It was touching, and probably an effort from him to patch things up. You thanked him for the drink and delicious smelling pastry before taking a small sip, awkwardly seated as you waited for him to speak again, attempt to explain himself further.

When he realized you were just waiting on him now, he cleared his throat. "Y/N, I'm really sorry. I hope I didn't make a scene or anything at the library. It was just, kind of a desperate last minute attempt to fix things between us."

Us. Us. It left a savory taste on your tongue. It felt right. Yes, Alex, us. You and I. That's how it's supposed to be.

You shook your head, "Nono. It's not that. It just- caught me off guard obviously, and well, I didn't want you to get in trouble for speaking a bit loudly, at the library."

He smiled, a small chuckle leaving his lips at the slight teasing tone at the end of your sentence. God, you had missed his laugh so much over the past week. It always managed to cheer you up no matter how bad things were.

"So uh, I'm sorry once again, Y/N. I know what I did was shitty, I've been beating myself up for it this entire past week. And even if you don't accept this apology and you want nothing to do with me after this, I just need you to know that I could never ever mean the things I said. You mean so much to me, and I just- I fucked up big time. You're not a chore at all. In fact, you make my life better, but it just took me so long to realize just how much you've positively changed my life. I'm so sorry for being distant. It's school, I promise. It's not because I don't love you anymore or anything. It's impossible for me to not love you, I hope you know that–" He paused to take a moment to breathe. He had just dumped all of this information onto them again. But he was just so scared that you'd up and leave any second now. He had to let it all out before it even came down to that.

"It- it was a bit of an overload, regarding information." You said once you realized he was waiting for a response. "It might take me a while to think about this. I mean, what you said really hurt me, Alex." You confessed, watching as his expression saddened, it was obvious he regret it. Everything he had said. "Don't get me wrong, I still love you, so so so much. Words cannot explain." You said, hand shyly reaching out to grab his. He responded almost instantly, fingers interlacing with your own. His hands were warm, against your own. You'd missed his warmth so much, and finally having it, even if just for a few seconds was sending you over the moon.

His grip on your hand was tight, but not tight where it hurt. It was tight, as if he was trying to prove to himself that you were real, that you were really insinuating that you'd give him a second chance. And honestly? Of course you would. This man meant the absolute world to you. And you understood where he was coming from, why he'd done what he did. It didn't take away the fact that it hurt, but you understood him, and would forgive him, eventually.

"I love you too." He said softly, gaze meeting yours as he smiled softly. "Take as much time as you need. I really am sorry, I'll never stop being sorry for the horrible shit I said. But no matter the outcome, I'll accept it."

His words meant the world to you. Even if you knew you'd accept his apology soon, it still meant so much that he just wanted you to know he meant what he was saying, even if you decided to leave forever.

"Thank you, Alex." You said with a small smile, giving his hand a gentle squeeze, trying to tell yourself as well that this was real. You felt him squeeze your hand back gently as well, and smiled slightly bigger at the memory that he did this whenever he wanted to reassure you about something. You really did love this man.

The day had started off with attempts to forget the very man you were currently holding hands with, attempting to get rid of every trace he had in your life in attempts to heal, attempts to move on. But he had stopped it all. He had apologized, admitted to the horrible week he's had, admitted to his faults, and was willing to accept if you no longer wanted him in your life.

But how could you ever wish that in regards to Alex? The one that brought sunshine into your life, the one that made everything better just by being himself.

Things were going to get better from here on out. Alex apologizing and stopping either of you from leaving each other's lives was a clear sign of that. From now on, you wouldn't allow such atrocities to take place either. You two would work on this.

As you stared at Alex who sat across from you, you couldn't help but smile at the possibility of having him back. Having everything go back to normal. It was clear he was thinking the same, as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze and smiled at you so brightly, almost bright enough to leave you sunburnt. Alex was sticking around, and so were you.

Maybe you wouldn't have to give the hoodies back after all.

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part X. (Harry Styles)

I can’t believe the time has come, this is the lats part of VALERIE! I won’t be long here, will leave a longer message at the end, but I just want to thank you all for reading an dliking this story, it means somuch to me, because I worked a lot on it! So thank you so much for giving it your love!

word count: ~7.5k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

The days and weeks blur into one dark mess around you as you’re just going through the motions, surviving day by day. The pain you first felt after everything that happened with Harry started to turn into a numbness in your chest until you just simply stopped feeling anything at all. 

Following the encounter in the car he tried to call you several times, but you were quick to turn your phone off and delete all the messages he left. He kept on going for an entire week, trying to get you to talk to him, but you refused to even be in the same room as him, your anger was still blinding and you didn’t trust yourself with not killing him if you laid your eyes on him. 

He sent you texts, emails, even left letters in your mailbox, but you threw them away not wanting to hear his petty excuses about why he made you miserable for so long. 

There were days when you weakened and almost reached out for him. In the past few months when your relationship abruptly changed, you definitely felt yourself fall for him, but then you reminded yourself that he chose to hurt you in the past on purpose and didn’t even try to change, not even when he saw how much his behavior affected you. 

Slowly, the calls and messages got less frequent until they stopped. You haven’t heard from him in over two months and though you still find yourself lying in bed with tears in your eyes, thinking about him, you’ve made yourself believe that you are better off without him. He has probably moved on already and got back to his playboy habits. He was always good in that, picking up random chicks, using them and then throwing them away when he felt like that. 

You never told anyone what really happened. One time you just broke down in front of Rosa when he mentioned something about Harry. You couldn’t speak or breathe and she didn’t try to force you to tell her the story, but she figured it was something serious if you were so broken. She stopped bringing him up even though some days you were dying to hear just the smallest crumb of information about him. 

You could only hope that time would heal the wound on your heart, but for a very long time you thought you wouldn’t feel like yourself again ever. But somehow, as the weeks rushed by you and life has gotten busy around you, you slowly stopped thinking about him every minute of the day until you were able to push it to the back of your mind and carry on with your life. Or at least pretend like you stopped thinking about him. 

Two weeks after Harry’s confession you and Marcus broke up. You just had to face that it wouldn’t have worked no matter how hard you were trying. You hated how you could hear Harry’s words when you finally ended things, how he told you that you have to let go of him and you wouldn’t admit, but when you cried yourself to sleep that night, it wasn’t because of Marcus, but because you were missing Harry.

On his birthday you almost broke and sent him a text, even typed it in, but you deleted it not long after. You wondered how he spent it, thinking he must have had a party or something, but you were surprised when Rosa called you that evening to talk about something entirely different.

“You didn’t have plans tonight?” you carefully asked with a hint of suspicion. It was weird that if Harry was having a birthday party, Rosa and Steven weren’t invited.

“No, nothing. Why?” she asked, but she knew exactly your reason behind the question.

“Doesn’t matter.”

You found it weird, but didn’t let yourself rave about it too long or else you would have found yourself going down the same spiral you were trying to get out of for so long. 

Each passing day brought a different emotion and you had to find your way through life while fighting them. You couldn’t see further than just a few days ahead and though it scared you, how drained and dark everything felt, there was not much you could do other than… wait.

***

Sitting at the dinner table you listen to Steven talk about this new coworker he has and how clumsy the dude is, your plate is half full in front of you but you don’t feel like you’ll be able to finish it anyway. 

Rosa looks in your way, her eyes flickering down at your plate and she lets out a worried sigh.

“Y/N, have you been eating enough? You look so… skinny.”

“I’ve just been busy lately, skipping a few meals,” you tell her with an absentminded smile, trying to stop her from worrying, but she knows you better than that. Nodding at her husband they exchange a silent conversation before Steven leaves the table excusing himself, and taking Valerie with himself he walks upstairs leaving the two of you alone.

“Y/N, I’m seriously worried about you. This… can’t go on like this.”

“It’s not like I chose to be so miserable,” you mumble under your breath, but she ignores the comment. 

“Look, I’ve been very patient with you, didn’t push you to talk about what happened, but I feel like you are crossing a line that’s very dangerous and I’m not just gonna watch you lose yourself.” 

Taking a deep breath she leans back in her chair with a look in her eyes you don’t get too often, only when she is ready to go full mother mode on you.

“What Harry did was fucked up, I gotta give it to you. Acting like a dick all those years, there’s no excuse for that. But I don’t understand why you rejected him so harshly when he told you about his feelings.”

“So he told you what happened,” you roll your eyes. You definitely did not tell her anything, so it must have been Harry.

“Don’t pretend like you weren’t expecting it. He always says how much Steven gossips, but he was the one who barged in here when you two had that major fight.”

“What? He came here right after?” you ask and Rosa realizes that maybe she should have kept it to herself, but it’s too late now. 

“He did. He was a hot mess, it was… the first time I ever saw him cry.” You bite into your bottom lip. That night had the same effect on you and though deep down you were hoping he felt the same pain, it was still surprising to hear about the state he was in after you parted ways. “He told us about everything, and though I wanted to murder him for the way he treated you for that long, I could see the panic in his eyes when he said how you reacted. As if… he just saw the apocalypse or something.”

“Don’t make it more dramatic than it really was,” you sigh, but Rosa keeps a straight face.

“I’m not. Probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he was shaking, couldn’t breath evenly, I think he went through a whole panic attack, all because of you.” You keep your mouth shut as you listen to your sister talking. “He explained it in details, everything that happened at the wedding, after that and since then. Went through the whole story and when he finished, he didn’t even have to say it out loud, I knew how painfully in love he was with you all along. That doesn’t change the fact that he should have handled the situation in a better way, but at least he acknowledged his own mistakes. He asked me if I thought you’d ever forgive him.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said that I genuinely didn’t know. And I still don’t know. Because I’m looking at you being just a ghost of yourself, clearly still in pain because of him, but you still didn’t even give him the chance to talk. You’d rather destroy yourself than to face him and your own feelings for him.”

Her words sting more than you were expecting and those stupid tears are welling in your eyes again, even though you truly thought you were drained out by now. Looking down at your hands you feel your face contorting as you start crying.

“Oh, Sweetheart,” Rosa breathes out and taking your hand she pulls you to the couch in the living room. She sits right next to you, pulling you into her arms as you start sobbing. “I know it hurts, but he didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”

“It’s not even that,” you choke out, not holding it back anymore. “I miss him so much, Rosa! I don’t want to, but I miss him so much!”

“Then why are you torturing yourself?”

“Because how am I supposed to believe him after what he did? What guarantees that it’s not just another stupid game for him, how do I know that? I don’t know how to believe him anymore.”

Rosa pushes you away so she can wipe your cheeks with her thumbs, a warm smile sitting on her lips as you try to control your sobbing. 

“You can’t know that. You just… have to put yourself all out and hope for the best.”

“I was really hoping you wouldn’t say that,” you grimace, making her laugh. 

“You think it was easy when I met Steven?”

“What do you mean?” you huff sitting up straight.

“I just got out of a horrible relationship, definitely not in the mood to date anyone and I was also very scared that everything would just happen the same way as before. It took me so much time to trust him even though he didn’t do anything wrong. I had to get over these fears and just believe that it won’t be the same. Nothing can guarantee you that you won’t end up with a heartbreak.”

“This is definitely not what I wanted to hear,” you choke out through your teary eyes, but manage to turn it into a laugh as Rosa chuckles with you pulling you in for another hug.

“I know, but it’s the truth.” She fixes your hair as you lean back from her. “So tell me. If you think about Harry, what’s the first thing that comes to your mind?”

You don’t answer right away, but the answer comes to you quickly. At the mention of Harry you don’t think of all the pain and hurt he has caused you, but of the good times you spent together. When you were struggling with Valerie the first time you looked after her and he came to the rescue.

“Maybe she needs to be changed?” Harry suggests holding her up, giving her butt a sniff, but you roll your eyes at him.

“You don’t think that was one of the first things I did? She is as clean as she could be. Maybe I should just call Rosa,” you sigh in defeat reaching for your phone but Harry snaps at you.

“No! Don’t, we can figure this out. Steven has been so excited to have a night off, we can’t ruin this for them. Come on, we have to have the slightest parenting skills and solve this without them.”

Nodding you agree with him, but you’ve completely run out of ideas.

“So what do you suggest?”

You can see the gears turning in Harry’s head as he is trying to come up with a plan, but it’s not like either of you have any experience with babies. The idea of calling Rosa is starting to burn in the back of your head, fear of failing this challenge taking over your thoughts.

Then Harry looks at you with a look that screams that he has an idea. You’re just about to ask what came into his mind when all of a sudden he starts to sing.

“Well, sometimes I go out by myself and I look across the water, and I think of all the things what you’re doing and in my head I paint a picture…”

You instantly recognize Amy Whinehouse’s iconic song, the one that’s also behind Valerie’s name, you know that for sure. Rosa was obsessed with the song growing up, she would sing it on the way to school, in the shower or while making dinner. You weren’t surprised she chose this name for her first daughter.

What surprises you that Harry sings like a literal angel. He hits the notes perfectly, nailing the lines like not many can and you listen to him with parted lips, eyebrows raised. This was the last thing you expected from him, but then again, it’s not the first time Harry has surprised you through the years of knowing him.

You still can’t help but smile how the two of you, incompetent godparents had to put up a whole show to put Valerie to sleep. 

Then there was Christmas, when the two of you played never have I ever until six in the morning, having the best time you’d had in a long time.

“Never have I ever said the wrong person’s name while having sex.” A devilish smile sits on your lips as you watch him drink while you do the same. You see his eyebrows rise over the glass.

“Nasty,” he huffs. “When did that happen?”

“First year of college. I was casually seeing a guy, but I wasn’t really over my last ex from high school and accidentally called him Ethan.”

“And what was his real name?”

“I don’t even remember,” you admit with a laugh, clearly feeling the alcohol slowly kicking in. Harry’s mouth hangs open before his expressions turn into that iconic ‘not bad’ face.

“Never have I ever had a wet dream about a friend of mine,” Harry asks and you feel your cheeks heating up right away, eyes snapping down at your glass. Unwillingly, but you drink as Harry does the same. “Who was it?”

“I’m not answering this one,” you shake your head. 

“Come on! I promise it’ll stay between us. Was it Steven?” he grins at you, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “I bet it was Steven.”

“Shut up, it wasn’t!” you snap at him rolling your eyes.

“Okay, then who? I won’t sleep tonight if you don’t tell me!” he begs, but you shake your head stubbornly. “Do I know him?” Oh, all too well, you think to yourself. “Is it someone who was there at the bar last time?”

“Can we move past it?” you sigh painfully.

“No, no way. I’m not leaving you alone until you tell me!”

“It was you.”

The words slip out fast and a little quiet, but he hears them clear. His lips part, a truly stunned look pulls on his face and you just wish you didn’t say a word.

The thought of sleeping next to him that evening, or rather morning, it felt like you’ve reached a huge milestone. You didn’t admit it then, but you were already falling for him, harder than you wanted. The whole next day and the two of you sleeping together again the next night, it still holds a special place in your heart. You truly felt happy with him and it wouldn’t have been the same without him. 

And there are so many more that make you smile just by thinking about them. Even after everything that happened, he is still the one that makes you smile.

Turning to Rosa you can’t even answer, just sigh in despair, but it tells her everything she needs to know.

“Listen. I know it’s hard, and that he hurt you badly, but… at least give him a chance to talk to you.”

“What if he doesn’t even want to talk anymore?” you huff. “Maybe he already has someone--”

Rosa starts laughing, maybe louder than she should and you look at her with a surprised expression.

“Ah, there’s no way. The guy has been moping around, barely even leaving his home for weeks. I can’t even get him out to go walking with me and Val. There’s no way he picked anyone up. No woman would stand the long face he has been sporting. So don’t worry about that.”

You sit there for a little while, trying your best to clear your thoughts and it’s nice that Rosa is there with you. If it wasn’t for her and Steven, all of this would have happened so differently, or maybe it wouldn’t have even happened. 

“Who would have thought this is where we would end up?” you sigh the rhetorical question, but Rosa gifts you with an answer.

“I did,” she nods confidently.

“What?”

“Oh, I saw the way you two looked at each other at the wedding. And I’m not gonna say that our choice for the two of you to be godparents was strategic, but… we definitely had some secret intentions with it.”

“What the Hell, Rosa?!” you gasp at her. 

“Oh come on!” she rolls her eyes. “I knew there was something, I was just not sure where it’s gonna head. And I’m not a nosy old lady to poke my nose into your business, so I was just enjoying the show.”

“I hate you so much,” you chuckle, shaking your head, but you couldn’t be mad at her. You have no idea how it will end, but at the end, you are still happy for the memories you share with Harry.

***

Friday evenings used to be Harry’s favorite. There was always something happening, somewhere to go, someone to meet up with, but it hasn’t been like that for a while now. Nothing seemed interesting or fun enough to get him out of his home. Instead, his usual became to just sit at home, contemplate if he should call you, then have way too much to drink and fall asleep either on the couch or if he made it to his bed, he thought about that day a lucky one. 

Not one day went by without the paining thought of the look he saw in your eyes when you told him you didn’t want to see him. It felt like his whole world collapsed right on top of him and for weeks he felt like he wouldn’t ever see the sunlight from under the debris. 

He had no one to blame but himself, and he really put a lot of effort into punishing himself. Cutting everything out from his life that brought him even the slightest joy, he was ready to live the rest of his life in sorrow. 

Tonight is no different. He had a long day and arriving home he was quick to fix himself a drink before sinking down to the couch, not even bothering to turn the lights on. He likes the darkness, it’s comforting and fits his mood nowadays. Sipping on his drink he sinks down on the couch, letting his eyes close as he gives himself a few moments to rest his mind and body. When his glass empties out he decides to just have a shower and call it a day, not feeling like dealing with anything, but just as he is on his way to the bathroom, his doorbell rings.

You’ve been standing at his front door for about fifteen minutes now. You noticed how it was all dark in his house, but his car was on the driveway and you knew he is not one to walk anywhere, so you figured that he might just be in the bathroom or something. But the longer you stood on his doormat, the harder it was getting for you to actually ring the bell.

It’s been a few days since your talk with Rosa and you haven’t stopped thinking about everything she said, coming to the conclusion that even though you still have no idea what you wanted from Harry, you had to give him another chance to talk. 

You almost left two times, walking down the stairs before running back up to the door. The third time you actually rang the doorbell, but when you heard it, when you realized that you actually pushed the button, you almost threw up.

Now you are hearing his footsteps coming towards the door and when he opens it and you see him standing right in front of you, for a short moment you forget to breathe. Last time you saw him you were ready to throw hands at him, but now… you would rather just run up to him and hug him as tight as you can.

It’s clear he hasn’t been his usual self either, the dark circles under his eyes are proof that he hasn’t been spending too much time sleeping, his posture lacks his usual confidence and he looks a lot paler than you rememberred him. 

“Hey,” you manage to breathe out as he stares at you like you’re a ghost. And honestly? You feel like one. 

As if Harry just suddenly wakes up, he steps back holding the door open for you. “Come on in!” he urges you and you shyly smile at him walking past him. It’s completely dark inside, but he is quick to switch the lights on once the front door is closed again.

“I, uhh-- do you want something to drink? Or eat?” he offers, rubbing his palms against his thighs, but you shake your head no.

“Can we talk? Or is it a bad time for you?”

“No, I have absolutely nothing to do. Take a seat,” he gestures towards the couch and the two of you walk over, sitting down on the two sides with a considerably big space in between. 

You have absolutely no idea what to say. You should have come here prepared, or at least should have thought about how to start this, because now you’re just sitting there in the most awkward silence you’ve ever had to put up with. But before you could figure out what to say, Harry breaks the deafening silence.

“Y/N, I’m… so sorry. For everything. I know that I already told you that, but I will never stop apologizing. Because what I did was absolutely inappropriate, no matter what stood behind my actions. I swear I had the right intention at the beginning, but I had to face a situation I never had before, and I panicked. A-And when I realized what I did… I guess I thought it was too late to back out.”

You watch him scoot a little closer as he takes a deep breath and continues.

“I was a proper idiot. I hurt you because I couldn’t deal with my own feelings and I expected you to just… forget about it when I finally came clear to you, but you had every right to be mad at me. You still do. And I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to see me again, like, ever… but I want you to know, that I love you, and I will never forgive myself for what I did to you.”

You can’t push the smile down that tugs on your lips. All those fears you talked about to Rosa, how you don’t know if you’re gonna be able to believe him, they faded away the moment he said he loves you. And though you still have so much to talk about and work on, you just know you need him. No matter how mad you’ve been, how much pain he caused you, he is the one you are meant to be with and no one can change your mind about that.

Pushing yourself closer your knee bumps against his thigh and you reach out, running your fingers down the side of his face. He sucks on his breath at your touch, leaning into it immediately and you cup his face in your palm.

“You have to forgive yourself,” you tell him softly and his eyes flicker up to meet your gaze. “Because one day I will forgive you and I can’t have you stuck in the past if we are gonna give it a try.”

His eyebrows rise up at your last words, lips parting as he stares at you in awe. You surprised yourself a little with what you just said, you weren’t planning on going into such depths, but it just felt natural and you knew it had to be said. It’s not gonna be easy, build up your trust in him and a whole relationship after everything happened, but you’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t even try. 

“I’ll need you to be patient with me, and I promise I’ll try my best to move forward with you, but I know that one day it’s all gonna be alright. And if you really feel the way you told me, I think we could give it a try. Give us a try.”

A sweet and relieved chuckle shakes through his chest as he reaches forward, his arms curling around you as he pulls you into his tight embrace. You hug his neck sharing his laughter, the warmth of his body pressed against yours wiping clean all the misery you went through alone in the past weeks.

“Of course I feel that way!” he breathes out, talking against your neck. “I love you and I’m gonna prove it to you every fucking day for the rest of my life.”

Blinking your tears away you lean back so you can see his beautiful eyes and you shiver when you see them filled with tears. For a few moments the two of you are just staring at each other with growing smiles, your hands slide up his chest and stop at the back of his neck as you pull him closer, resting your forehead against his.

“I’m still mad at you,” you tell him, but you can’t stop yourself from breaking a smile. Harry chuckles lightly, nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Does this mean you won’t let me kiss you?”

“If you don’t kiss me, I’ll be fucking fuming,” you warn him, making him laugh, but he surely doesn’t want to try his luck, because a moment later he presses his lips against yours, capturing them in a sweet first, but not really first kiss. 

He kisses you over and over again, not wanting to pull away, he feels like he can’t get enough of you, and you share the feeling. The urge to touch him feel his hot skin under your fingertips is numbing and you just want to stay like this forever, locked in his arms, feeling him shower you with his love.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so fucking much,” he breathes out when you finally pull away and your heart is threatening to break out of your chest every time you hear him say those words. You cup his cheeks in your hands and make him look you in the eyes.

“I love you too, Harry,” you whisper, and as the words roll down your tongue, it feels like something inside you just clicked. Like you found exactly where you should be at this moment. Like you found your home.

“Say that again, please,” he breathes out, fingers digging into your waist.

“I love you,” you tell him with a growing smile, before you pull him in for another kiss. Then another… and another…

***

“Up! Up!” Valerie demands, her tiny hands up in the air as she reaches towards you. Chuckling you lean down and lift her up into your arms, earning a sweet giggle from her.

“Are You excited about your baby brother? He’s gonna be here very soon,” you tell her and she looks at you with her bright eyes nodding her head.

“I be big sista’!” she cheers throwing her hands into the air and you nod chuckling. 

“Yes, you will be a big sister!”

“Hopefully a patient and good big sister, right, Val?” Rosa speaks up from behind the two of you, her bump so big, it seems like she could pop any minute, but she still has two weeks until her due date. She’s been joking about carrying a mega baby for quite some time now.

Val just nods at what her mother said before she demands to be let down and the moment her feet touch the grass, she is off to conquer something new.

“Everything alright, momma?” you ask your sister and she sighs with a tired smile.

“I’m fine, could use a good night sleep without having to get up to pee every two hours.”

You just chuckle and slide a hand over her bump, just when you feel the little boy kick in there. You gasp at the feeling of a tiny foot, or maybe hand meeting your palm over Rosa’s tummy.

“He is feisty,” she chuckles, running a hand over her tummy as well. 

“Do you guys have a name already?”

“Uh, not yet. But you know me, will probably decide it when he pops out. That was kind of the case with Val too.”

The two of you turn to the side when you hear the laughter of the little girl in talk and you see Harry throwing her over his shoulder as if she was just a little doll, and Valerie is enjoying how he is tossing her around even throwing her up in the air before catching her.

You can’t hide your widening smile at the sight of your goddaughter and boyfriend being the best duo. Harry never fails to amaze you how great he is with little kids, but it’s also funny if you think back at the time he had to come over to your place because he was freaking out the first time he was babysitting Val. He has come a long way since then for sure.

“So, how is living with Harry going?” Rosa asks when she sees that you can’t take your eyes off Harry. 

The two of you moved in together just a few months ago, and though you had quite some fears about moving too fast, you can’t say any of them were relevant. The transition from living alone to living with Harry was fast and smooth, as if it was always meant to happen so fast. It was actually his idea, when your lease was nearing its end in March, he mentioned that you could always just move to him and not look for another place. It took you a few days, but you eventually made the decision to take this step in your relationship, and now you couldn’t be happier with your choice. You get to come home to him after work, share a bed and wake up next to him every day. You wouldn’t want it any other way.

“It’s pretty great. Going better than I thought,” you admit truthfully.

“I hope you know mom is already planning your wedding,” she scoffs and you just roll your eyes.

“I know. She’s been hinting it for Harry as well.”

“Has she?”

“Yeah. Like, every time she sees him, she makes sure he knows that he is expected to propose as soon as possible.”

“And how does that sit with Harry?” You just smile shrugging your shoulder.

“He dodges it every time, but I feel like he is fine with it. Maybe he is already planning it.”

“I bet he is,” Rosa grins. “The guy is head over heels in love with you, anyone could see that.”

Just as she says that, Harry’s eyes catch your stare and he grins at you putting Valerie down. You bite into your bottom lip as he fixes his shirt waving in your way.

“Oh shit, I think Val is about to throw dirt at Aunt Monica, gotta stop her,” Rosa snaps seeing her daughter grab a handful of dirt and heading in your aunt’s direction.

You just chuckle as Harry walks up to you, arms curling around your waist as he steals a quick kiss.

“Saw you staring with those pretty eyes, babe,” he teases you as you place your hands on his biceps.

“I’m not sorry. I like looking at what’s mine.” He grins shaking his head at you before kissing you once more. “I love seeing you with Val,” you admit smiling up at him.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm, you’re really good with her.”

He nods and stays silent for a little as you slide your hands up to his shoulders, tilting your head to the side.

“Just wait until you see me with our babies,” he shyly mumbles, but it surely makes your heart skip a beat. You’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about having babies with Harry, but hearing it from his mouth just hits differently.

“So you’re thinking about babies already?” you tease him smirking.

“I mean… we surely practice the baby making quite a lot,” he jokes and you smack his chest playfully for the dirty joke, but you laugh with him. “I wouldn’t mind if it was our babyshower already,” he admits with a shy smile.

“You know, there’s an order for things, and baby making is not up next,” you tell him pointing a finger at him.

“Yeah? What is then?” he grins knowingly, just wanting to make you say it. But instead, you just hold up your hand and wiggle your empty fingers. “Oh, I wouldn’t have figured, not with all the hints your mom has been dropping,” he chuckles.

“She’s just excited!” you defend her.

“Mhm, and what about you? Are you excited?”

“Is this your attempt at trying to figure out if I would say yes?”

“Maybe, I’m not confirming anything,” he cheekily smiles, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “So? Hypothetically, if I were to pop the question in the near future, what would you say?”

“Well, hypothetically, I think I would say yes,” you say, a wide smile spreading across his ridiculously handsome face. “But you know, reality would be different, so, you have to really ask the question to find out,” you add trying to look unbothered, but you start laughing as he digs his fingers into your side.

“Alright, alright. I got the hint,” he chuckles leaning down as he kisses you. “Don’t worry. I got it all under control.”

“Oh, I don’t worry. I know you too well, Harry Styles. All too well!” you tease him.

“And you love me for everything you know about me, am I right?” he grins proudly. You think about teasing him a little more, but you can never lie about how much you love him. It’s just impossible to deny it, even if it’s just a joke.

So taking a deep breath you just smile up at him nodding.

“Of course,” you tell him, pecking his lips shortly. His hand  finds yours and brings it up between the two of you, brushing his thumb over your naked fingers, a satisfied grin pulling on his lips.

Looking into your eyes he doesn’t say anything, just kisses the place where one day a ring will sit and it’s like a silent agreement that your finger won’t stay empty too long.

And oh boy, you were right! Because just three short weeks later, when the two of you are hiking at a breathtaking scenery on your weekend getaway, Harry gets down on one knee. You gasp even though he made it clear it’s gonna happen soon, but the fact that he did it exactly the way he told Aunt Monica, at a gorgeous lookout on a hill, just warms your heart. He smiles up at you, nervousness glistening in his eyes as he asks that one question, popping the lid of the small velvety box open, revealing the ring.

“Will you marry me?”

You choke out, not able to contain your feelings as you throw yourself into his arms chanting yes, yes, yes! continuously to him.

PROLOGUE

A pair of tiny feet are tapping on the white tiles, following behind the bigger ones, slaloming between the patients, the set of balloons floating behind them as they run down the hallway like crazy. An old lady looks down at the little girl with a sweet smile and she waves at her before running after her mommy, not wanting to lose her.

“Come on, it’s right there!” Rosa cheers as she grabs Valerie’s hand once they reach the right hallway. She leaps excitedly, a nervous, but happy giggle leaving her lips, eyes snapping up at the blue balloons in her mother’s hands. She is mesmerized by them, though she knows she can’t keep them. They are for someone else. Someone special. 

“Are we there?” she asks when they stop at a closed door as Rosa checks her phone to see if she remembered the number of the room correct.

“Yes, we are!” she squeals happily before turning to her daughter. “Val, remember what we talked about?”

The little girl nods proudly, bringing a finger to her lips as she thinks back to the conversation she had with Rosa earlier.

“Yes. He is very tiny and I need to be gentle with him!” she repeats her mother’s words and Rosa smiles down at her proudly.

“Yes, baby. Very good. Now come on, let’s meet baby Finn!” she cheers in excitement as the two of them walk up to the door and Rosa knocks on the door gently, not wanting to disturb if someone is sleeping in there.

Valerie is standing next to her leg, one hand holding onto the fabric of her jeans, while the other one reaches to the lock that fell into her face. She nervously curls it around her finger, fidgeting with it as she patiently waits, just like her mommy taught her.

The door opens and Harry’s wide grin welcomes the two of them, Valerie immediately mirroring his expression as she sees her godfather.

“Hey princess!” he greets her, picking her up into his arms without hesitation. “Come on in,” he invites Rosa in and she can barely hold her excitement when she sees you sitting on the hospital bed in that awfully familiar and ugly gown, a little bundle of joy in your arms, so wrapped up she can’t even see his face. 

Your tired eyes tear away from the baby in your arms and they meet Rosa’s glossy gaze. She drops the balloons next to the door, carelessly abandoning them as she feels her heart beat faster in her chest once her eyes finally lay on the face of the new addition of the family.

“Hey! How are you?!” she breathes out walking closer, pulling a chair to sit beside you. You glance down at baby Finn, still unable to truly express how you really feel about becoming a mom. 

Taking a deep breath you look up at Harry who is already staring at you, that special shine of pride still so obvious in his green eyes, you just wish you could see him so happy and joyful every day for the rest of your life. He shoots you a warm smile before turning to Valerie, who is fumbling with his necklace on his chest.

“I’m tired, but so happy, Rosa,” you breathe out and she chuckles nodding, fully understanding the feeling. If there is anyone, that’s her who knows exactly what it’s like to hold your baby in your arms for the first time. 

“He is so beautiful, those cheeks, oh my God!” she whispers leaning a little closer to see the sleeping baby boy better. He is nestled in his mom’s arms, already deep in his first big sleep on this world before he starts to explore it. “I gotta say, he looks a lot like Harry,” she admits looking over at the happy dad who tries to push down a grin while you roll your eyes at the statement.

“So unfair! Cooked him inside me for nine months, then pushed him out my cooch, and he has the audacity to look like his father!” you dramatically say, but there’s a small smile playing on your lips. 

You can’t be mad at him. If something, you really hope he’ll turn out to be just like his daddy, because that man has you whipped even after years of being together. 

“Give him a few months and he might morph into your little version,” Rosa chuckles. 

“Val, you ready to meet your cousin?” Harry asks the little girl in his arms who nods vigorously.

“Cousin!” she cheers throwing her hands into the air. 

“Remember what we talked about! Be gentle!” Rosa warns her again as Harry walks closer, sitting to the edge of your bed as you sit up straight, bringing Finn closer so she can see.

She patiently sits on Harry’s lap, hands curled together at her stomach as she peeks at the sleeping baby, her curious eyes taking in his features.

“Sleeping?” she asks glancing up at you.

“Yes, he is very tired now,” you nod smiling. 

All three of you watch her stare at the baby as if he was a magical creature, but to her, he is. If you are being honest, he is one for all of you. You still hadn’t wrapped your head around the fact that he is here.

“So? What do you think?” Harry asks, giving her a little squeeze when she’s been quiet for some time.

“Can I kiss him?” she asks, melting all three of you with the request.

“Of course you can!” you tell her and push yourself a little forward so she can reach him. Valerie leans down and places a soft, lingering kiss to Finn’s forehead that’s not covered by the little blue hat on his head. 

Your eyes snap up to Harry and you see that his eyes are tearing up again, something that’s been happening continuously since he first saw his son hours earlier. He is clearly obsessed with not just Finn, but the whole idea of being a father, you figured he has been for quite some time. The way he treated Val like she was his own never failed to melt your heart and push you a step closer to the idea of having a baby with him one day. That day finally came and you can tell he is on cloud nine.

“Want to know a secret?” you ask Valerie with a small smirk. She nods, eyes lighting up. She is such a nosy little girl! “If you weren’t born, baby Finn wouldn’t be here today.”

Rosa looks at you with tears in her eyes as she processes your words. Not that it’s anything new, but she always cracks up thinking about the fact that Valerie was the reason why you and Harry got together in the first place.

“Really? I did it?” she asks looking at her mother, probably not really knowing what it means exactly, but she gets the essence of it.

“Yes,” you chuckle. “You did it.”

“He’ll need a lot of help, Val. Do you want to be his best friend?” Harry asks looking down at the little girl.

“I am his best friend!” she confidently says and you chuckle feeling your heart just overflowing with the love you’ve been experiencing. 

“Good, he already loves you so much, Val. I know it,” Harry smiles hugging her to his chest as she cuddles to him happily. 

You look at Valerie as she mindlessly starts telling about something that happened at the playground the other day and he listens to her like she was telling him the meaning of life, giving her his full attention. The stupid smile can’t be wiped from your face as you look at the two of them, the memory of being in a hospital room with both of them still vivid in your mind. 

It still blows your mind how far you’ve come from biting each other’s head off to being married and having a baby, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. If you ended up here, you’d go through the whole chaos with him again without a second thought. He is everything to you and now you are tied together forever, thanks to all higher forces that brought you to this very point in life. 

Harry looks at you while Valerie is still talking and Rosa is busy admiring Finn. He smiles at you again before mouthing the words ‘I love you!’, making your heart flutter like it’s the first time you heard him say it though he has said those words to you every day since then, making sure you don’t forget how hopelessly in love he is with you. 

“I love you too,” you whisper back before your eyes return to the sleeping baby in your arms. “And I love you too.”

PREVIOUS PART

A/N: oh my! i really can’t believe it ended! thank you so much for sticking with me for this series, im really proud of this one and it’s probably one of my favs i’ve ever written! thank you for supporting my writing and i hope you enjoyed this series as much as i enjoyed writing it! pls feel free to share your thoughts with me about the chapter or the whole series itself, i would LOVE to read your reactions and comments! and i hope you’ll find my upcoming works just as endearing as Valerie was!!

TAGLIST

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@f-vasquezp​ @perspnhel​ @http-cherries​  @h-arrystyles​ @just-damn-bored​ @millennial-teenybopper​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ @gwenlovesharrystyles​ @perfectywrong​ @do-youseeme​ @burberryharold​  @irwindoll​ @stylesfics-xx​ @sltwins​ @mellamolayla​ @funeral-7​  @yourkidsfavbabysitter​ @nesiamenick​ @sunflower6why​ @rainbowbutterflyboy​