Tumgik
#i love beach okay it's part of my good sides of childhood
bluelolblue · 5 months
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Beach and forest headcanon for Santino and John
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When Santino prefers chilling and walking on the beach and John maybe has a slight preference for the forest walks.
Santino would complain about all the bugs in the forest, tho. If he sees a spider, he's turning around and leaving without John, but John leaded the way, and Santino wasn't paying attention, so he doesn't know how to return, he needs John for that. "If you pick up that spider, you're never touching me again. Ever." I'm having way too much fun with Santino being scared of spiders. He'd describe them as "disgusting creatures with too many legs."
The mosquitoes. Santino's cursing in Italian and English at them. He hates mosquitoes. John is literally so patient with him and kills mosquitoes he sees that are near him. And he's overall patient with his complaints because "he will calm down eventually." It's the way Santino is, and John accepted him like that. In fact, he finds it cute.
A way to distract Santino is to point out a deer or any other animal. Since it's not every day they go to the forest, it's nice to see a deer, squirrel, fox... like it actually makes Santino happy. He's taking photos of them, too. He loves animals but no bugs.
Meanwhile on the beach, Santino is calm and chilling. John can finally relax and not have to worry about a spider getting near Santino. The wasps, tho. But Santino is mostly quiet, inhaling that sea smell of salt and it's a nice fresh air. They both enjoy this a lot. Going swimming together, walking on the beach, just chilling on the towel as they snack, drink and talk. Getting ice cream together and making sexy jokes when the ice cream gets on their sides of their mouths or anywhere. And Santino always makes that joke first because it's him.
I almost forgot! Santino helps him put on the sun cream since John kinda burns easily while Santino gets a nice tan. Ofc he's Italian, it's no problem to him. Getting that vitamin D (and another vitamin D 🌚). No, I'm keeping this wholesome.
Anyways, I thought of this few days ago but now I got really inspired to write it down. So have this silly headcanon :3
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onlyangel4 · 2 months
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healing a heart i didn't break. LH44. MV1. SMAU. part one.
cheater! lewis hamilton x reader. max verstappen x reader.
when your boyfriend of three years fumbles, his rival is there to put the pieces of your heart back together bit by bit.
warnings: 14 year age gap with lewis. cursing. cheating. mentions of the anniversary of a family member's death.
author's note: in this reader is 25 years old. lewis is a jerk but just for the plot. this first chapter is just the cheating. max will show up in the next chapters.
part two
faceclaim: camilla morrone
y/ninsta
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lewishamilton, y/bffinsta and 678,901 others
tagged lewishamilton and y/bffinsta
y/ninsta: the best summer break with my favourite people
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alexandrasaintmleux: looking forward to seeing you all in the netherlands
y/ninsta: i can't wait to see you alex !
lewishamilton: i think this was the best summer break out of them all
y/ninsta: we keep bettering ourselves every single year
y/bffinsta: thank you for letting me tag along
y/ninsta: wdym he was obviously third wheeling us
user 12: i love the friendship between lewis, y/n and y/bff it is so wholesome
lewishamilton posted a story tagging y/ninsta
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written: last beach day with y/n before back to work
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: back at it
y/ninsta
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liked by lewishamilton, carmenmundt, y/bffinsta and 560,982 others
written: forever the proudest girlfriend. last slide is me and y/bff hardly working while my boyfriend secures p2.
tagged lewishamilton and y/bffinsta
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lewishamilton: the luckiest of lucky charms
y/ninsta: that was all skill baby
y/bffinsta: we do our best
y/ninsta: that we do
carmenmundt: gonna miss you in the merc garage next week honey
user19: i'm new to the y/n fandom. how come she won't be there next week.
y/nfan: her father died on the 31st of august five years ago. she has a family tradition to go home and let go of balloons, so she is never at the race that week.
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y/bffinsta posted a story
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y/ninsta replied to your story: i didn't know you were going
y/bffinsta: yeah lew had a paddock ticket reserved and as you are busy he gave to me
y/ninsta: oh. have a good time, wish him good luck from me
y/ninsta
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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, carmenmundt, max verstappen and 320,982 others
y/ninsta: oh dad, i have a love hate relationship with day. i love it because i get to sit down with everyone and talk about my favourite memories of you. but i hate it because it reminds me that you are really gone. i hope you are proud of me and the woman that i have become. i know you are looking down on us.
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carmenmundt: thinking of you darling
y/ninsta: thank you carmen
mercedesamgf1: we love you y/n
y/ninsta: i love you admin
alexandrasaintmleux: forever in my thoughts
user32: guys wtf is going on. every year y/n posts a similar thing and lewis and y/bff are always the first people to like and comment on it. this has been up all day and all the other wags have liked it and even max fucking verstappen has but not a peep from y/bff or lewis. something is going on.
user12: shit open twitter
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f1updates
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liked by user23, f1fan12, user22 and 120,987 others
f1updates: the internet is in shambles after pictures of lewis hamilton and y/bff were posted by papparazzi. y/bff is best friends with lewis' long term girlfriend y/n. y/n was not in italy this weekend as she was at home honoring her late father. admin doesn't tend to like to take sides but this is awful behaviour from lewis and y/bff and we hope that y/n is okay.
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user23: this is awful. y/n is grieving her father and her two favourite people betray her.
f1fan12: lewis hamilton i am in your walls
user22: there is no innocent explanation to this. this is cheating.
y/ninsta posted a close friends story
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written: and they both blocked me with no explanation. like i'm in the wrong
alexandrasaintmleux replied to your story: where are you
y/ninsta: my childhood home
alexandrasaintmleux: i'm coming
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cameronspecial · 11 months
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Before The Last Petal Falls (Part 1)
Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: Talks about sex and drugs.
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 2.4K
Summary: Coming home is supposed to be a happy occasion, but it's hard to be happy with your ex-boyfriend lurking around the corner.
A/N: This is a sequel series to Thorn In My Side, Rose in My Hand series.
Masterlist
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Going back home is the last thing Y/N wants to do right now. The Outer Banks is full of memories from a heartbreak she does not want to remember. However, she is no match for the force known as Cassie and Marvin, and that is how she finds herself on a plane back to North Carolina. For the past five years, Y/N has done everything in her power to not step foot on the island again and now, it is all for nothing. “Please fasten your seat belts, we are preparing for landing,” the pilot’s voice stirs Y/N from her slumber. She can’t believe this is actually happening right now. The elderly lady beside her smiles at her, “First time going to North Carolina?” “Uh, no. I actually grew up there, in the Outer Banks, but I haven’t been back since I left. It feels a little weird,” she answers honestly. 
“Ahh, so you were running from something.” 
“Yeah, I was. But it looks like I can’t anymore. I just hope that something isn’t there anymore.”
The plane lands and Y/N gets her bags from the carousel. She waits for Mason in the pick-up area, running towards him when she spots his car. Mason crushes Y/N in a hug, “It’s so good to see you back on American soil. This is long overdue.” Y/N pats his back while returning the hug. “Yeah, yeah. It’s good to be home. Did Lace get Sparky here okay?” Mason picks her suitcase up and packs it into his trunk, “Yep, he’s probably being a little energy ball in our living room as we speak.” They both laugh at the joke and then hop into the car. “So how’s your internship at the architectural firm? Is it different from the one in Toronto?” she asks her brother, bringing her hand to the locket around her neck. Heading back to the Outer Bank is causing her to be anxious and playing with the locket calms her down. It doesn’t go unnoticed by Mason that she still wears the necklace and is playing with it. 
“It’s going well. Most buildings that people look into getting built here are a different style than in Toronto. OBX wants beach boxes, while Toronto has a wide range of styles. It’s really fascinating watching how my boss’ designs still match to look different from one another.”
“That’s cool. I like the name beach box. It sounds fun. Like a giant sandbox. And are you enjoying it?”
“Yeah, I really am. Although, I do want to see if I can get an internship in an Asian country afterwards. They have a different style that’s interesting. How is the bookstore coming along?”
“A little stressful right now to be honest. Juggling my book edits and what I need to change or add so that the building is up to code and now being here. It’s all just a little too much. At least, I have a name Bookkeeper. It’s gonna confuse people who actually know what that career is but I think it’s funny.”
“It is a good name. It’s very punny.”
“Ugh, that was so bad.”
———
One of the worst places to be is her childhood bedroom. The countless days they spent cuddling on the bed haunts her. The love they expressed physically all over the room is practically engrained in her brain. She had never been able to feel that way again. She unpacks her clothes into her closet and goes to check on Sparky downstairs. He was left down there because she didn’t want him sitting on her suitcase like he did when she was packing her bags in London. He has gotten bigger and he has a little bit of an attachment issue. He doesn’t like being very far from his Mommy for very long. Y/N’s heart drops to the pit of her stomach when she sees the open front door and bolts out of it in hopes of catching her dog before he gets too far. 
She follows his barks like a trail of breadcrumbs to the sidewalk. If her heart wasn’t already giving her problems, it certainly is now. The sight before her is one she never thought she would see again. Rafe Cameron is kneeling down and petting Sparky. Beside him is a beautiful woman in a sundress. Her long black hair cascades down her shoulders and her brown almond-shaped eyes show such warmth behind them. Her makeup is done to absolute perfection. Y/N slowly approaches the trio without hesitation. She doesn’t want to go near Rafe, but seeing as it doesn’t look like Sparky is nowhere near going home, she had to go get him.
 “Hey Sparky, long time no see. It’s good to see you again, Bubba. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for ya. You’ve gotten so big,” she hears him greet. As she approaches, she accidentally steps on a stick and the crack alerts the others to her presence. “Hey,” she awkwardly begins. “I’m just here for my dog.” Rafe nods and stands up, moving to wrap his hand around the woman’s waist. “Uh, yeah. I remember a time when he used to be my dog too.” Sensing the tension, his companion introduces herself, “Hi, I’m Blythe Katsumi. I’m Rafe’s fiancée.” Blythe sticks her hand out for Y/N to shake, which she does. “I’m Y/N Y/L/N. Rafe’s- uh…this is Sparky.”
“It’s okay. I know you were his high school girlfriend. He told me about you.”
“Right. And he didn’t tell me about you.”
Rafe rolls his eyes and huffs, “Yeah, well it’s not like we were doing a lot of talking in the last five years. What are you doing here, Y/L/N?” 
“You mean besides looking for my dog, in front of my house? The better question is what are you doing here Rafe?”
“I have every right to be here because unlike you, I’ve been coming back home.”
Before Y/N can retort, Blythe stops the conversation from going any further. “Well, it was lovely meeting you, but we need to go. We have to get some stuff ready for the engagement party.” Blythe waves goodbye and takes Rafe’s hand to walk away. This draws Y/N attention to Blythe's left hand with the giant diamond engagement ring. This causes a stabbing feeling to shoot through Y/N’s heart. Her hand shoots up to her locket and she begins to rub it for some comfort. This action doesn’t go unnoticed by Rafe as he catches it from the corner of his eye.
———
Everyone has their own vices. Cheating. Gambling. Alcohol. Lying. Rafe’s is drugs. There was a period of time in his life when weed was not the outlet he turned to when in need of getting out of his own head. That one blissful year he had with her was his escape instead. But after the breakup, weed was the only thing that made him forget about her. Eventually, he became numb to the weed and he needed something stronger, so Barry introduced him to cocaine. Mason didn’t know that Rafe had stepped it up in the drug department because if Mason knew, he would’ve found some way to get Rafe to stop. And Rafe didn’t want to, he needed to escape the feeling of being consumed by her. 
Before today, Rafe had managed to go a month without thinking about her at all. It was his highest record in the past five years they had been apart. There was no bookstore he walked by with a girl quite similar to her standing at the window. No hard kombucha in Mason’s fridge to indicate that she had been there. No caramel ice cream at the parlour that she would beg him to buy. It was like the universe was giving him a break from being haunted by Y/N. It seems the universe is done with giving him that gift because as he drives to Barry’s house, he is drowning in thoughts of her. He loved seeing Sparky, of course, but why did she have to come back? He couldn’t get the smell of her hibiscus body wash out of his mind. The sweet but gentle tropical scent she wore contradicted the foggy and rainy place she had moved to. Her hair is held back in a claw clip he used to play with whenever she would leave them around. 
And the thing that had really caused him to spiral is her hand still holding the locket he had given her for their first Christmas as a couple. Has she been wearing it for the past five years? Had she worn it while she let other men make her feel good, but nowhere near as good as he can make her feel? Would she wear it when she told them she loved them? But most importantly, how dare she come back to what is now only his island and wear it as if she cared for him? She hasn’t been back in years or talked to him; she doesn’t get to pretend like she’s thought about him. It is driving him crazy and he needed something to stop him from going too deep down this rabbit hole. 
Barry hears Rafe’s motorbike and is waiting outside for him. “Well, well, well, look who came back from the dead. Thought you went sober on me for a second there, country club. What can I get you for you?”
“However much you got. I got a feeling that I’m gonna be needing it more often.”
He knew he would need whatever he got his hands on to help him forget about her because if he didn’t then he would remember. And it would probably kill him to remember just how his heart almost leapt out of his chest when he saw Y/N Y/L/N right before his eyes.
———
When they broke up, Mason told both of them that he would not be used as a source to find out more about the other. He said it was for his own sanity in not wanting to be caught in the middle of his sister and best friend, but it was also in hopes that it would cause discourse between the two that would lead to their reunification. So it made sense that Mason would keep an engagement from her. But she still needed more information that she would give Mason no other choice but to give her. “How long have they been together, Mace?” Mason closes his eyes in a silent prayer that he isn’t about to have this painful conversation with his sister. He lifts his head from his laptop and turns towards her, “A year and a month. They’ve known each other for a year and a half.” 
“How long have they been engaged?”
“Four months.”
“Did you help him propose?”
“He didn’t ask.”
“How come you didn’t tell me?”
At this, Mason can hear the sadness in his sister’s voice. He knew no matter how much she says she is over Rafe, it isn’t true. It’s why she still wears his locket after all. He knew she needed to know though. 
“You know I don’t want to get in between you two. Also, I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want to tell you something that would hurt you so much. I love you and I want to protect you from that pain.” 
“Yeah, I get that. It just would’ve hurt less if it came from you,” she whispers, not knowing what else to ask or add to the conversation. She turns around and goes to her room, where she finds Sparky waiting for her. He gives her a pouty look, asking how come he couldn’t go with his Daddy. She sits down on her bed beside him and places his head on her lap, “I’m sorry, Bubba. But I did what I had to do. Breaking up with him was necessary. I mean I set him free and look at him now, he is getting married.” It hurt. It hurt that he was okay with marrying Blythe before he turned twenty-five. He wanted to speed up his life plan two years earlier just for Blythe. How come he was willing to do that for Blythe but not for Y/N? Was Blythe really that much better than her?
Doing what any other girl would do, Y/N resolves to some internet sleuthing. It wasn’t that hard to find Blythe’s Instagram. She has a public account and Mason is following her. She has an impressive 500K followers; probably because she is the heiress to a popular Japanese hotel chain. All her posts have her makeup done to perfection and her clothes are all designer. One of her saved reels is of her and Rafe partying on New Year's Eve. At least Blythe can keep up with Rafe on that level. Y/N moves her search to Google and finds Blythe’s Wikipedia page. She was born in New York and raised there. She attended UNC for fashion. From multiple tabloid pictures, she can tell that the party scene is one Blythe frequent but she is also a sweet girl. In one picture, she is giving her jacket to a homeless person along with some money when she is returning home from a party. She helps out at soup kitchens and takes children out on shopping sprees. Y/N supposes that Blythe could just be doing it for the media attention, but the look in Blythe’s eyes tells her it isn’t true. 
After finding out possibly everything she could find out about Blythe, Y/N turns all of her electronic devices off to stop her from spiralling on social media anymore. She heads over to her bookshelf in need of a bookish escape. Her eyes glance over the different titles until her eyes find one particular book she had not thought about it in a while. She pulls the book off the shelf and opens it up to the title page with the inscription on it. The copy of The Lightning Thief that Rafe had annotated sits before her. She had left it here when she went to university because it felt too hard to bring with her. It held too much meaning. As she sits down on her window sill, she begins to read the book with a special focus on the inscriptions. She reads for hours, allowing herself to feel every bit of emotion that passes through her. God, it hurts to be back home.
Taglist: @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @gillybear17 @f4ll-for-you
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fruvittea · 7 months
Note
hi can u write an angsty love triangle with jake and jay from enhypen pls <3
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whispers in the rain ✧˚ · . part one
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— ✺ pairing: jay x reader x jake
— ✺ genre: slice of life, angst, suggestive, fluff, childhood best friend, love triangle, college au, slow burn
— ✺ synopsis: jay is your childhood best friend. that’s all he will ever be. a summer with jay and his friends changes how you feel for him when jake comes into your life. and jay begins to think that was a mistake.
— ✺ warnings: for this part none so far
— ✺ word count: 1.6k
— ✺ authors note! hi thank you so much for reading, this is my first fic with multiple parts that i will be writing hope you guys like it :)
part 1 | …
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Ever since you bumped heads with Jay in the 3rd grade you two have been inseparable since. Both your mothers had thought you two would end up getting married. That is not the case. Friends are what you are and what you will remain to be. Jay has never shown any romantic feelings for you. As cold as he may seem to be, you never felt the possibility of him feeling more for you. After all, he dated girls left and right. And none of them were the one in his eyes.. So what made you think that you were? Having a long time crush on a friend can be exhausting and at some point it becomes embarrassing. So by the time you and Jay graduated that was when the feelings were stored deep away. Never to be seen again.
“You know you really should get out there…get to know some people.” Is what your friends would say. Telling you to not mope about Jay if you weren’t going to do anything about it.
They were right. But you were stubborn. Of course you weren’t going to do anything about your crush. But you didn’t want to let go of your feelings for him. There was just a sliver of hope left in you.
“Okay fine I’ll explore other options.” You lied.
That was two years ago. Now, you're in your 2nd year of college going into your 3rd. No significant other. Just pointless dates that never went anywhere. Jay on the other hand was thriving hundreds of miles away from you. You hated the fact that he occupied your mind every now and then. Every so often the two of you would talk on the phone, just to catch up. Nothing further. You two hadn’t seen each other since summer. And you did miss your best friend.
It was towards the end of finals. You were studying for the last one. Last one and then you were free. Eyes glued to the computer you focused on the endless number of lessons you missed.
ring ring ring
Turning towards your phone charging on the bed side table you noticed that Jay’s name was on the screen. Studying can wait. You picked up the phone bringing it to your ear.
“Hello?”
“Y/n, what are you doing for summer?”
“Nothing yet…why?”
“Come with me to the East Coast. You remember the beach house my parents own? I’m inviting a few friends to stay. I think you’ll like them. It’ll be for half the summer, maybe longer if we feel like it.”
Your eyes widened. “This is so sudden. I don’t know if I can. I mea-”
“My mom talked to yours’, she said you were free.”
You blinked. Of course she did. “Okay, well, then consider me there.”
“Perfect, see you then.” He hung up
You stretched your hands before continuing to type away. But the sudden invite did cause you to stray away from focusing on your studies. Who were the few other friends? When were you leaving? Where were you staying? This took over your mind. What a great way to distract you from studying.
next day
“So he just asked you to stay with him in the East Coast during the summer?”
“Yeah.”
“Just you two?”
“No.”
“Oh. Bummer.” You were telling your one (and only really) friend Amara. You two decided to go to the same college after graduation and have been close since.
“You’re still so hung up on him. Like why don’t you just confess. It’ll be good to get the rejection out of the way.” She said doing her school work.
You lifted your head from the desk. “Well it’s not that easy. And also rejection is the whole point. I don’t want to be even though I know I will be.”
“You needa figure this out. It’s been years. And when I say years I mean YEARS.”
You roll your eyes at your friend burning holes into your body as she stares you down. “Yeah.” You sigh. She’s right.
“Well, I’m leaving next week once I get back home.” You say continuing your work.
“Really? That sudden?”
“Yup, he texted me last night letting me know the extra details. He’s mentioned before that his family has a beach house and I’ve never been invited until today. It’s in Delaware, of all places.”
“Ohhh his daddy’s got money I see.”
You chuckle at her statement. “I am excited though.”
“Who knows things may change between you two. And for the better.”
“Mmm I highly doubt it, but a girl can only hope.”
“You gotta stop being so hard on yourself y/n, really.”
time skip
You wiped the hair out of your face as you got the last of your things together. Two carry ons and one large backpack. It didn’t seem like enough. But it was going to have to do. Besides, some shopping out there wouldn’t hurt. The screen of your phone lit up.
I’m here. The text was from Jay. He wanted to pick you up for your guy's flight.
As you were getting ready to haul everything to the car you heard the footsteps of your mom getting closer and closer. “Honey, you ready?”
“Yes, I am just about to load everything into the car.”
“You know I won’t be mad if something happens between you and Jay.”
“Mom, enough. It’s not like that.”
“You might say so, but I see how that boy looks at you.”
“Well you’re wrong. Can you please help me?” A second pair of footsteps came closer.
knock knock
“Hi Mrs. L/n. Hi y/n.” It was Jay. Did he hear the whole conversation between you and your mom? You cursed yourself silently as he came up to you engulfing you in a hug. His scent reaching your nose, intoxicating you.
“Wow, you smell good.” He said pulling away. His tone was almost nervous.
You try not to blush. “Thank you, I guess. I didn’t even put anything on yet. I was actually about to say the same for you.”
“There’s no need to for you.” The two of you stood there for a second, his eyes to the ground yours on him, before your mom cleared her throat. Indicating for you two to get moving.
“Oh right, I’ll take these, we’re going to be late.” He picked up the two carry ons, one in each hand, in a rushed manner.
“Have fun you two!” Your mom shouted from the driveway before Jay sped off in his car.
It was quiet. Eerily quiet. Something was on his mind you could tell. Glancing over to the man you noticed his knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel so tight.
“So,” he broke the silence, “how have you been?”
“Oh, uh, I’ve been good, just tired from studying for finals.” You sigh.
“Tell me about it. But don’t worry our trip will take the weight off your shoulders. There are some people I’d like you to meet. I think you guys will click pretty well.”
You kept silent. Hopefully. You noticed from the corner of your eye him turning his head toward you a couple times.
“Hey, are you good, you’re pretty quiet.”
“Yeah, I’m good just tired, I woke up early to pack.”
He smiled. “Of course you did. Always been the same since high school.”
You lightly laughed before closing your eyes while he drove to the airport. Jay noticed your body slump. He gave you one last look before continuing to focus on the road.
“Y/n…Y/N. It’s time to wake up, I’ve already parked.” His voice so delicate as if he was trying to put you back to sleep. You opened your eyes, Jay’s face was inches from your trying to make sure you were going to wake up.
“Come on sleeping beauty, we gotta go.” You finally process where you are while getting out of the car. You both grab your stuff and head to the terminal. All of your belongings stacked up nicely into the cart, both tickets in your hand while Jay pushed the cart. The two of you made your way to the terminal after security.
“The gate is this way.” Jay walks ahead of you towards a group of young guys. You cautiously walk behind your friend. Meeting people has always been difficult, now meeting a group of guys? This was going to be a long trip. Jay turns around motioning for you to walk faster. Finally reaching the group of guys you made eye contact with the lot of them. They were all cute for lack of better words.
“These are my friends from college. Jungwon, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Niki, Heesung, and Jake.”
They all gave you a wave or smile, kindly introducing themselves to you. You took in the presence of the group fixating on- what was his name? Jake? He was pretty.
“So you’re y/n? Jay always talks about you, it’s nice to finally meet you. I’m Jake.” The tall man makes his way to you reaching out his hand for you to shake it. His eyes meeting yours, there was a sort of sparkle to them. He seemed interesting.
“It’s nice to meet you too --all of you.” You smile trying to hide your nervousness. Suddenly the announcement for the flight surrounded the terminal.
“Okay shall we get on the plane?” Jay gave a smile before having everyone walk over.
“Jay switch with me, I wanna get to know Y/n more.” You heard Jake whisper to Jay. You could see Jay’s smirk from the corner of your eye.
“Okay, here ya go,” he exchanges the ticket with Jake.
You walk up past them a bit, acting oblivious to the conversation.
“Hey, y/n. Looks like we’re sitting next to each other.” He flashed his ticket to you with a smile on his face.
“Oh nice, we can get to know each other.” You smile back. You were hoping to sit with Jay but his pretty friend will do.
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monsoon-of-art · 5 months
Text
Donut Hole - Chapter 20
Silhouette
The fire I began is burning me alive But I know better than to leave and let it die
I'm a silhouette asking every now and then "Is it over yet? Will I ever feel again?" I'm a silhouette chasing rainbows on my own But the more I try to move on, the more I feel alone So I watch the summer stars to lead me home - Silhouette, Owl City
[(deep breath) been a while huh :') A ton of stuff has happened in my life that really hindered my writing; being moved to full time, my dad having a stroke (he's recovering with no permanent damage) and my PC breaking. But here's a new chapter!! Where Dawn gets involved, and Barry learns of some very crucial things…] [ao3 link]
Dawn chose to hide away in her home, not wanting to leave Jubilife but unable to stand hearing the curious whispers of the townfolk. She tried to keep herself busy; cleaning her space, organizing her things, checking in on her pokemon…
But nothing could keep her mind away from her friend in the medical wing for long.
She lay in bed, her pokemon lounging around the home, reflecting their trainer’s sullen demeanor. 
Her Samurott, Riptide, lay by her side and allowed her to nervously pet and pull on her whiskers.
“I wonder…what they did with his Pokemon.” She wondered aloud.
The woman who helped run the pastures was nice enough, but Dawn doubted she could care for Barry’s team. No, they were most likely with Laventon.
Barry was a good trainer. He treated his pokemon back home with love and care, verging into ‘spoiling’ territory, Dawn might dare say. Honey for his heracross, sugar cubes for his rapidash, mangoes and fruits for his Torterra.
His new team…they were strange. Scruffy, dirty, thin looking. Barry wouldn’t willingly let his team look like that. What had they been subjected to in the wilds of Hisui? With no Galaxy Team, no Laventon to find him on a beach-
Her thoughts drifted to Barry himself.
Scruffy. Dirty. Thin. Deeply upsetting. Like a childhood toy nearly torn to shreds, hanging on by bits of thread and stuffing.
Riptide let out an unhappy chitter, Dawn realizing she had been tugging on her whiskers a bit too hard for her liking. “Sorry.”
Her mind wandered elsewhere. Somewhere less sad. Somewhere angry.
Why hadn’t anyone come to her when Barry arrived? Surely someone had to have made the connection; a strange boy her age with outlandish clothes and a gift for training pokemon?
Why did they let him suffer in the cold and the damp and the dark?
If a single person had told her - not even her, if someone had told anyone in Jubilife - then Barry wouldn’t be in the medical wing. He wouldn’t be so thin and dirty and hurt.
She replayed Adaman’s words in her mind. “Because we weren’t totally sure. And I didn’t want to raise your hopes in case it wasn’t.”
And the worst part is…Adaman was right. If they had come to her with a description of Barry, and it wasn’t Barry? She’d be crushed.
Luckily for her mental state, she didn’t have to think about this for long. There was a knock at the door, followed by Rei’s voice, “Dawn? Are you in there?”
Dawn stood to get the door. She had learned not to let her pokemon answer the door anymore, not since her Kadabra answered the door for her once, and then rumors swirled around town about how she had turned into a Kadabra.
She hoped she didn’t look too disheveled when answering the door. It had been a very long day.
Either it wasn’t too obvious, or Rei decided not to comment on it.
“Uhm, the leaders left not too long ago…” he started to say, rocking back and forth on his heels. “I dunno what they said to Kamado, but it was loud. On both ends. But it seemed to have worked, I don't think the commander plans on practicing his fighting moves tonight…”
“Okay.” Replied Dawn, unable to really muster any excitement in her voice. Sure, it was nice that Kamado wasn't going to start suplexing people, but that certainly wasn't on her mind.
“Well, now that things have calmed down, uh, Miss Pesselle says you can come visit your friend. He's not doing so well right now, but she thinks he'll be alright-”
“REALLY?!” She struggled keeping her voice low. “Why didn't you start with that?! Let's go!”
--
Consciousness was proving to be rather fickle and fleeting. Barry felt himself drift in and out, like the waves on a beach. Awake, not awake. Awake, not awake. Drifting at sea, below the waves.
And being awake sucked. 
Every part of his body ached. Even parts that he didn't know could ache. He couldn't even scrounge up the willpower to open his eyes. Sounds were muffled, distant, unfamiliar.
So he would just lay there…aching. 
It wasn't all bad. He could sense the presence of someone nearby tending to him, and even if it hurt when they had to change bandages, he knew it was probably a good thing. Cups and bowls were gently pressed to his lips, and even though it tasted distinctly medicinal, he really didn’t care.
And sometimes, when the ache and the pain grew too much, he could feel a warm hand slip into his own and squeeze.
It was comforting. He wasn’t alone. Someone was there with him through it all, here to hold his hand when it hurt.
And Barry would try to smile and squeeze back before drifting, drifting, drifting…
He wasn’t sure how long he spent drifting. Hours, maybe. Days, weeks. 
Until one day, he finally opened his eyes.
Barry was in a bed he didn't recognize and a room he didn't know. Things were kinda blurry, and fuzzy, and his head hurt, but it was something.
Breaching the surface of the water for the first time in a while, it seemed.
He hesitantly squeezed the hand holding his own and glanced over to his side.
“... Barry?”
Dawn looked tired. He wondered, numbly, if she had left his side at all.
But she was here. Alive and well and not just a terrible gap in his memory. She had the same eyes, the same face, the same tired smile that she'd give him when he'd do something stupid-
“D-Dawnie.” He croaked, dry lips cracking into a beaming smile. “I did something stupid again.”
“That's OK, dummy. We can talk more about that later.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “How are you feeling?”
He groaned, trying to think of an accurate description. “Numb. Aching. Like a piece of gum left to dry on the boardwalk in Sunyshore.”
Dawn giggled, a beautiful sound that he had grown to miss so, so much. Barry couldn't help but weakly chuckle alongside her.
“Pesselle said it's a miracle you're alive. She said you had a foot in the grave, and a shovel in your hands.” She looked at him, tears welling in her eyes. “I-I was…I was so scared…w-wh…what if you didn't wake up?”
She let go of his hand, trying to wipe away the tears as she began to weep.
“Hey, hey-” he sat up slightly, ignoring the aches and pain, “It's alright! I-I’m fine now! I'm not going anywhere.” A serious look crossed his face. “No one's gonna try and stop me.”
“Th-there was drapion venom in your blood. Pesselle said i-it was a miracle you kept your leg.” She continued to whisper. “You won't be able to walk for…I dunno how long.”
“I've been walking on it for a while! It'll be fine!”
“I think that's part of the problem.”
Dawn gestured for him to lay back down, to which Barry ignored. “I couldn't stop and rest, I was on the run! It's crazy, just listen to-”
He paused. A strange look came across his face, and he grabbed Dawn's hands and held them tight. “I need you to tell me something. Something that only you would know.”
“Barry-?”
“Please. Please. Something only you would know. Please.”
Sadness overtook her features, not directed at him, thankfully, but she clearly felt bad for him, and wanted to soothe his worries.
“When you were little, you wanted to have a big birthday party with a big cake. And you invited the entire class. Your dad asked Elite 4 member Lucian, to borrow his Mr Mime for entertainment. And…uhm. When Mr Mime walked out with your birthday cake, you were so scared that you started crying, and you even-”
“NO! DAWN THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT?!”
“What did you mean then??”
“I dunno! Something deeply personal and special to us??”
“Well you didn't specify! What about the time you got your Halloween costume based on heracross and you asked me to hit you with a branch to ‘prove how strong' you were?”
“No, that's not what I meant either! I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose! Do you need me to fine you?!”
Dawn couldn't help but laugh. When was the last time she had been threatened with fines? She couldn't remember. It felt good, familiar.
For a moment, the medical room walls melted away. They were back home, camping, just teasing each other after a long day of training.
“Do you remember the time you poured yourself a glass of vinegar at a buffet because you thought it was soda, and you nearly barfed-”
“You are! You are doing this on purpose!!” Barry shouted back. “Two can play that game, missy! Don't think I've forgotten about the time our class started singing happy birthday and you were so surprised you started crying!”
“Hey!” She squealed in fake offense. “I did not!”
“Did too!”
“OK, OK, let's stop with the yelling.” Dawn said, pressing him back against the pillows of his bed. “Not sure we want Pesselle to come yell at us-”
“No no, wait, wait, hold on-” a frightened, almost desperate tone crept into his voice. “I know it's you. There's no way. I can trust you.”
“Of course you can trust me?”
“This place is crawling with Team Galactic!” He hissed, “Absolutely swarming! They tried to stop me from finding you, I think they're the reason you're here! They kidnapped you!”
Dawn opened her mouth, but no words came out. She just let Barry continue.
“I haven't seen Cyrus yet, but I've seen Mars and new commanders and Galactic Generals, and they're hellbent on capturing me! This is a universe where Cyrus won, don't you see? There's no civilization, people and pokemon don't trust each other-!” A moment of panic overtook his features, and he frantically looked around. “My pokemon, where are my-”
Dawn grabbed his shoulders. “Barry. Barry.”
“Huh? What, what?”
She took a deep breath. “That's…not right. That's not what's going on.”
Barry also took a breath. “OK. I'm listening. Tell me what's going on, I'll believe you.”
Dawn hesitated. “It's a bit crazy…”
“The last few months have been nothing but crazy for me. Whatever you say, I promise.”
“I think…we're in the past.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “...when I said I'd believe you-”
“Barry!”
“It's just a little hard to believe!”
“Oh, but your theory of being kidnapped by an alternate dimension Cyrus is more plausible?”
Barry tried to think of a retort, but couldn't. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Touche. What's your evidence?”
“Do you remember the history class we took about the late edo period?”
“Yeah, I failed that one.”
Dawn reached into her bag currently on the floor and pulled out a pokeball. “See how it looks rough? These are carved by hand, using apricorns. Surely you remember the pokeball lesson.”
That clicked in his mind. Before the modern manufacturing of Pokeballs was established, people would carve out their own using apricorns. Some could even make special ones with unique traits, but the skill and craft was a dying art.
“I thought…I thought they were poorly made…” he said slowly, softly. Barry shook his head, “That doesn't entirely prove it. If this was a world where Cyrus won, obviously Silph Co wouldn't exist.”
Dawn then gestured to the room around them, which Barry finally began taking note of.
There were no medical devices, not really. Mostly beds, blankets, pillows, panels to give some semblance of privacy, and a sleeping croagunk in the corner.
It did look a little old fashioned, like visiting the Old Chateau, or the homes in Celestic town. The way the wood was carved, the way the paint looked…
“Look at the clothes they gave me!” She continued, taking off a red scarf to show him. “Not fake fabric at all, this is real!”
All of the little inconsistencies, all of the assumptions based on a worst-case scenario. The pain he went through. The pain he caused. It was all starting to climb up his throat.
“Dawn. I don't feel so good.”
“What? Why? Should I go get the doctor? Her name is Pesselle, she's really nice-”
He grabbed her arm as she stood to leave. “I think…I did a lot more stupid stuff than I realized…”
Dawn had an inkling that his time in Hisui was less than pleasant. But the sheepish anxiety in his voice worried her.
“What…did you do?”
The door behind them creaked open. Dawn turned, relieved to see Pesselle carrying fresh bandages. “Ah, good! The two of you are awake. The captain wanted to see him.”
The relief quickly faded when Pesselle stepped to the side and Captain Cyllene entered the room.
And Barry started to scream.
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lnfours · 1 year
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summer loving (nine) ⎸t.h
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⌙ summary: your mom and tom’s mom grew up together, swearing that their kids would be life long friends. and it was true, the holland boys were a special part of your life. but on the annual trip to their beach house this summer, everything feels different. and that’s because it is.
⌙ au: based on the book and tv show ‘the summer i turned pretty’ by jenny han. childhood friends to lovers
⌙ wc: 1.8k
⌙ warnings: fluff, language, a little bit of smut?? idrk. and he who shall not be named is back 
⌙ pairing: tom holland x fem!reader
masterlist ⎸ chapter eight  ⎸ chapter ten ⎸ listen
                                 ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
to say that the airport was crowded would be an understatement. there were people walking in all directions, trying to get to the baggage claim to see their families. you had somehow found yourself in the middle of the airport in london 3 days before christmas. wasn’t the smartest move on your part, but you missed tom. you didn’t want to wait the couple more months until he’s in the states for filming. 
plus, harry had mentioned that all tom was talking about was how much he missed you. so the two of you had planned the surprise visit, and now here you were. in a city you’d never been to before, standing in the middle of the airport, feeling so out of place. 
your phone rang from your pocket. you stepped to the side, pulling it out to see harry’s contact pop up. you slid over the answer button before pressing the phone to your ear.
“hello?”
“hey, we’re here,” he said, hearing haz and tuwaine make commotion in the background, “are you outside yet?”
“no, not yet,” you sighed, “it’s packed in here.”
he chuckled, “yeah, something about christmas coming up, maybe? dunno.”
you rolled your eyes at his sarcasm, chuckling softly, “you’re at terminal b, right?”
“yeah, we’re right by the doors. tuwaine almost pushed an old lady out of the way to get this spot, but we managed.”
“she was just standing there like a div!”
you laughed, reading the sign above your head as you made a right down the hallway towards baggage claim, “okay, i’ll see you guys in a few.”
“sounds good.”
you hung up and shoved your phone back in your pocket. you weaved your way through the crowds and after a little bit of pushing, you managed to find the boys. you smiled and sighed out of relief when you hugged harry.
“this is a fucking nightmare, please get me out of here.”
he laughed, “sure thing.” 
you loaded your things into the car and hopped in the backseat next to tuwaine who pulled you into his side.
“my favorite girl is here!” you laughed as you hugged him back.
“it’s been so long,” you said, “it’s a bummer the two of you didn’t get a chance to come to the beach house this summer.”
after a little more catching up, the three of you finally pulled up to tom’s house. you unloaded your things from the car as haz went into the house to make sure tom was ready to be surprised. you followed tuwaine and harry into the house, hearing tom’s laugh.
“what the hell is going on?”
“tom just put on the blindfold.”
“i’m not sure i want to.”
“oh, you want to.”
the boys nodded towards you, letting you know you could enter the room. tom was sitting on the couch, blindfold on as he asked a million questions. 
he hated surprises.
you smiled as he complained again, “what the hell is going on?”
you stood in front of tom where he was sitting and smiled to harry, nodding at him to tell tom to take the blindfold off. 
“alright, you can take the blindfold off, tom.”
he tugged at the material until it was off his head, throwing it beside him. he adjusted his eyes before they landed on you standing in front of him. you watched as his eyes shifted from you to all the guys in the room. 
“shut the fuck up. is this real life?”
you laughed, “god, i hope so after that 7 hour flight.”
he sprung up from his seat and hugged you tight. you laughed as he lifted you off the ground, smiling as your arms tightened around his neck. he buried his face into your hair, taking in the smell of your shampoo and perfume. 
“you’re really here.”
“i am.”
he placed you back on your feet, smiling as he looked around at his friends and back at you, “you fuckers pulled this off, didn’t you?”
haz and tuwaine threw their hands up in fake surrender, “it was all harry and y/n’s idea.”
he smiled at his brother and back at you, pulling you back into a hug. you giggled, the smell of his cologne filling your nostrils for the first time after 4 months of not being able to see him. 
after the reunion, he grabbed your things and led you throughout the house, giving you a little tour so you’d feel more at home during your week long stay. he led you up the stairs, showing you to his room. 
“wanna do something later? go out into the town? i’ll take you to my favorite pub, pretty sure there’s a trivia tonight.”
you smiled, nodding as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “sounds perfect.”
he smiled back down at you, your fingers tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck. the feeling of being with him, the feeling of at home, washing over you. 
“i missed you.” he said, his voice softer due to the proximity.
“i know.”
he fake scoffed, “no ‘i missed you too’?”
you giggled, leaning up so your lips brushed over his, “i was thinking i could show you just how much i missed you.”
his lips turned into a smirk as he pulled your body closer, leaving no gaps in between. 
“yeah?”
you nodded, “mhm.”
he leaned in closer, his lips closing the space as he kissed you sweetly. you kissed him back, his hands falling to your waist as he gripped tightly, walking the two of you over to his bed. his knees hit the edge of the bed and he pulled you on top of him as he sat down on the mattress. your legs straddling his hips as he cupped your cheek into his hand, deepening the kiss.
your hands found the hem of his t-shirt, your fingers dancing along the skin of his abdomen before he pulled away to tug the material over his head, tossing it somewhere on the floor. you didn’t hesitate to do the same thing, pulling the hoodie over your head. he adjusted his body so he was fully on the bed now, his head resting on the pillows as you climbed on top of him again. he smiled, moving your hair out of your face as you leaned down and peppered his jaw with kisses.
“i love you.”
you smiled down at him, “i love you, too.”
you leaned down to kiss him again, however you were interrupted by the knock at his bedroom door, harry’s voice following af†er. 
“we’re leaving for the pub at five!”
you looked down at tom as he looked at his watch, rolling his eyes softly, “okay.”
“what time is it?” you asked, harry’s footsteps fading away as he walked down the hallway, the sound of his door closing echoing off the walls.
he smiled softly at you before switching your positions so now he was on top of you and you were the one with your head on the pillows, “three.”
you smiled softly, hooking your arms around his neck as he leaned back down towards your lips, “better make it quick, holland. i need time to get ready so i can impress all your friends.”
he chuckled softly, “darling, you could show up in sweatpants and a t-shirt and still impress everyone.”
you smiled softly, “damn, i guess that red dress you like so much will just stay in my suitcase.”
his eyes widened softly as you maintained the smile you were sending back up at him, “that’s what i thought.”
                                ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
you walked into the pub with the boys, tom’s arm draped loosely around your waist. you watched as tom greeted his friends, smiling as he stepped back to introduce you. 
“this is y/n, my girlfriend.” 
“oh, so you’re the girl from the summer house? he doesn’t shut up about you.” the one with black, fluffy hair had said as you slid in next to tom in the booth, chuckling as tom playfully smacked the boy’s arm.
“yeah, that would be me.”
“your mom is nikki’s best friend, right?” the blonde girl had asked. you nodded, fiddling with your fingers under the table. tom was quick to notice your nervous fidgeting, placing his hand on yours to reassure you that everything was okay. 
pretty soon, the trivia had begun and you helped the table answer the questions. after your fourth time getting something right, they had claimed that they should kick tom out and put you in instead. 
and because of your contributions, you helped them win the trivia night for this week. everyone celebrated by going up to the bar and getting drinks, but you and tom hung back at the booth. 
you smiled, watching haz talk to the blonde girl from before, “he likes her, doesn’t he?”
tom nodded, putting his beer down on the table, “yeah, has since we were in primary.”
you looked over at the brunette, “what’s stopping him from asking her out?”
he shrugged, “beats me. we’ve all been telling him to do it for years. i think whenever theres a chance, their either in relationships with other people, or there’s just not enough time.”
you nodded, looking back at haz and the blonde girl as she laughed at him, placing her hand on his as he stood with her at the bar, “kinda like us. we were either with other people or we were too scared to tell the other how we actually felt.”
“yeah, but i eventually pulled my head out of my arse.”
you laughed softly, “indeed you did. it was about time.”
he rolled his eyes playfully, “yeah, yeah, whatever.”
you both laughed, leaning your head on his shoulder. you loved everything about this moment, loved everything about london and the atmosphere. you felt like you were at home even though it was a city you weren’t too familiar with. 
you felt at home because tom was here.
your thought process was interrupted when your phone started ringing on the table, kat’s contact picture lighting up your phone. you grabbed your phone and answered.
“hello?”
“did you see it?” she asked, her voice frantic.
your eyebrows pulled together, “see what?”
“you seriously haven’t seen it?”
you sat up now, noticing kat’s serious tone, “see what, kat?”
she sighed, the echo of her nails tapping on her phone screen filling your ears. you felt your phone buzz in your hand, pulling it away and clicking on the messages notification from her. you clicked on the screenshot, your eyes widening quickly. 
“kat, what the fuck is this?”
shawnmendes added to their instagram story.
you were staring blankly at the screenshot. a picture of you on the beach with a smile on your face, a picture you knew shawn had taken during one of your beach dates. 
missing summer with you! <3 @/y/ny/l/n
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rain-dom · 4 months
Text
[FtM Transformation] Proving A Point To Your Best Friend.
I’ve been on so many dates with guys but I just can’t find the right one!” Karla exclaimed.
“Maybe let them know you’re a witch? That way, when you go down on them, you could-“
“Oh, shut up, Michelle! Ugh, why does your mind have to be so dirty?”
“Sorry, I was just trying to lighten up the mood.”
“No, you’re fine it’s just, sigh, so frustrating sometimes with the dating apps and the one night stands. I want to be with someone, not just have mediocre sex with men who can’t even find the clit.”
Karla put her hands on her face. “And it doesn’t help that being a witch on the side isn’t going anywhere - I’m trying to learn how to do transformations, and I’ve been getting better, but I feel so lame compared to the other witches! I’m taking such a long time to learn how to be a witch that the other new witches are probably looking down on me right now. I’m terrible at dating, I’m terrible at being a witch. Hell, even my grades at uni are in the dumps! God, I feel like the stupidest 21-year-old ever!”
“Hey! Don’t compare yourself to them, alright? Sure, you might take a little longer to fly on a broom, okay, fine. But what about the progress you’ve made so far? It was only a few months ago that you couldn’t even cast a spell. But now look at you! You’re doing whole transformations!”
Karla smiled at Michelle. “Yeah, you’re right it’s just…so easy for me to get into my head sometimes. But, thanks.”
The two best friends hugged. As they parted, Michelle looked at Karla. She’d known her since childhood, and had been there for her through everything - her crushes, her break-ups, her parents’ divorce, and graduations. Despite this, however, Karla always knew how to push forward and try again, something Michelle admired about her. Not to mention her work ethic, her compassion, and her loyalty towards her friends and family (or, what was left of it). Not to mention her smile, her beach blonde hair, her tanned skin, and her sense of fashion that would take Michelle’s breath away. She didn’t like her that way, of course. She just thought she was a really, really good friend…right?
Karla, on the other hand, thought highly of her best friend. She loved hanging out with her, her weird jokes (even though they were so stupid and juvenile), and that she always had her back no matter what.
Then, Michelle had an idea.
“Say, Karla. What if you could practice your transformation magic on by turning me into a guy?”
“Oh no, Michelle- are you high on something right now?”
“I’m being 100% serious! You’ll use your magic to turn me into a your type - a tall, muscular man, then you can show that off your witch friends and say ‘see, I *can* do transformations’”
“…you do know that witch meetings are for witches only, right?”
“Well, you know what I mean. I just want to prove to you that you *are* a good witch. You just need some extra practice. C’mon, just for one night?”
Karla thought pensively for a moment.
“Oh, *alright*. But this doesn’t mean anything, we’re still just friends, okay? And you’re gonna have to lose your clothes first, so they don’t rip.”
Michelle blushed. She agreed immediately, and Karla made Michelle’s clothes - a white tank top and ripped jeans - disappear, along with her bra and underwear with a hand wave. She covered up her chest and private parts.
Michelle then asked if Karla could tie her hands and legs up, and put a blindfold on.
“…okay, weirdo. Besides, why are you blushing so much? We’ve seen each other naked before. Now, get on the bed.”
After Michelle practically ran to the bed, Karla tied her hands above her head and her feet together with her purple magic, and gave her a blue sleeping blindfold.
Karla pointed at Michelle’s naked body, which immediately made a purple aura around Michelle’s body. “Agh! Shit! I-I feel hot-” Michelle’s shoulders started to grow in width, and her body started to grow taller by a few inches. As that happened, she felt her neck get a little thicker and her height increased by a few inches. Her boobs - once a C-cup, had now receded into B cups. Her bones and muscles tensed and reformed, which, although uncomfortable, also felt pleasurable. It was like being massaged, but instead of just the skin, her bones and internal organs were being massaged as well. “Huff, huff- oh god, my shoulders! They feel so weird!” Michelle exclaimed.
“O-oh god! Michelle, are you okay?? Do you want me to change you back?”
“No, this actually feels…pretty good? Weird, but good.” Michelle said through heavy breaths. She noticed Karla still needed a little boost of confidence, so she tried her best weapon yet - teasing.
“See? That was...impressive. B-but! I bet you can’t change…oh, my hips! I bet you can’t make me lose my curves,” Michelle teased.
Karla was taken aback. “What?? But you just said I could do magic! You know what? Fine! I’ll show you!”, said Karla as her best friend’s waist and hips began to even out.
“Ngh Ah! Karla, this is-hah!” Michelle moaned, nearly breathless due to the changes. Her hips cracked as they decreased in width, and her curves began to even out until they were almost gone. Her thighs lost some of its thickness as well.
“Hah, hah Karla…” Michelle was starting to sweat at this point, getting turned on at how good her best friend was making her feel.
Karla herself started to blush at the sound of her best friend’s voice slowing getting deeper, but she shook her head and ignored that those feelings...for now.
“You know what? To prove to you what good of a witch I am, I’m gonna take away your boobs!”
“Mmph Ahh! Yes! That feels- oh!!Michelle’s breasts began to deflate, pulling themselves into her body. It was as if they were being massaged and molded to Karla’s will, like a sculptor making a fine sculpture out of a full rock.
At this point, Karla was starting to break into a sweat.
“You’re turning out really well, Michelle. I think I’m actually doing some nice work here!”
“Sure, but, what about my head? B-bet you don’t have enough mana to change that!”
“We’ll see about that!” said Karla, as Michelle’s face became longer and its edges more defined, her brown neck-length hair receding into a short haircut.
“Hrrrrk! Errrgk!” Grunted Michelle as the changes took place. Meanwhile, her throat thickened even more and deposited a big, noticeable Adam’s apple as her voice became more and more baritone.”
“Ah? Oh! Ahh…”bMichelle loved the sound of her new voice. “My-my voice! It’s so deep! She was actually thoroughly enjoying the masculinization process. To her surprise, she liked how her body was turning out.
Meanwhile, Karla was blushing, her face in a deep red hue. She was starting to get really turned on by how deep Michelle's voice was getting. She really was definitely becoming her type.
“You know, I bet you don’t think I could do this!” Karla said as she pressed her hands on her best friends now-flat chest, and moving the apart from each other, causing huge pecs to push out, forming on Michelle’s broadening chest.
“Ah! Oh, yes! Please, keep going Karla!- Ah!”
The muscle growth spread around her body, first through her arms and hands, and down to her abs, which Karla helped to create and mold with her hands. Michelle’s thighs and legs began to thicken with muscle as well. Little bits of hair grew on her chest, legs, and under her arms.
”Hah…hah… Karla, this is incredible!” Michelle said, feeling her best friend’s hands caressing her now tanned, chiseled body, her vagina wet from the new feelings.
“Hah, hah Mmm~ yes, you’re turning out so well!” Said Kalra, almost drooling over her best friends new body. Then she noticed something about her best friend’s vagina - it was surrounded by plenty of clear, sticky fluid. She gasped. “Wait as sec, are you…are you wet?”-
“Ah! Ugh! Oh! mngh Oh, god! Something’s nngh coming out of me! Is…is that my cock?!” As Michelle’s moans indicated, her body was changing on its own now, her clit now starting to grow bigger and bigger, pulsating and throbbing, looking more and more like a penis with every push. Karla wasn’t even going to help her best friend grow her dick just yet, it just started growing. She stopped it from growing any further by pushing down on it with both palms.
“Oh, oh my god! I lost control of your body! Your dick just started growing on its *own!* I’m pushing down on it with my hands to stop it from growing any more-“
“No! Please! Pull it! Help me get it out of there! Help me set it “free!” Michelle begged, not even caring it if grew on its own. It was sending waves of pleasure all over her body. She wanted - no, *needed* it. Michelle’s dick at this point was only partially out, with Karla barely being able to keep it down.
“Ah- o-okay! If that’s what you want then, I’ll do it! I’ll help you! You push, I’ll pull!”
Michelle moaned in response.
“Ah! AH!!! Yes! Yes! Karla! Pl-please keep-OH!! Fuck, yes!”
As Karla pulled and Michele pushed, the dick grew and grew, until it was its full erection length of 9 inches, with pre-cum leaking out and down her new dick. It almost consumed most of Michelle’s vagina, along with the balls that were coming in. There was still plenty of cum coming out of her vagina, too. With one last pull/push, the dick reached its full size, and Michelle’s dick finally came.
“Oh god- hah, hah “it’s gonna mmph it’s g-going to- I’M about to- oh GODD!!!”
Cum shot everywhere, but mostly at Karla. She turned her face away and attempted to shield her face from the onslaught of her best friend’s cum. She thought it tasted salty.
And with that, Michelle’s vagina was no more, now replaced with two large, hairy balls and a huge, hard, throbbing, veiny cock.
“See?” Michelle said through heavy breaths, “I told you - you can use magic, haha.”
Karla wiped the cum from her face with her right hand, then looked at it.
“I…I can’t believe I just did that.” She said, satisfied, yet shocked at what she had done to her best friend.
”Hah…hah…oh my god!”
Karla looked at both the cum in her hand and on the sheets, and the warm feelings she had in between her legs.
“O-oh my god. You’re a- and I was…I was so into it that- what-“
“I-I can’t believe we just…did all that stuff. I don’t know what came over me.” Michelle said, embarrassed and surprised as well at the outcome.
“W-well…do you like your new look?”
“Oh my god, yes! I love it! I-I actually think I like this body more. Like, I feel more like *myself.*
“Michelle…that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you.” Kalra said with tears in her eyes. “Would you like me to call you by a different name?”
“You know, I do feel more like a Mitchell than a Michelle.”
Karla lays down next to Mitchell, and the duo lie there for the next few minutes.
Michelle, now Mitchell, turned to his friend.
“I think I’ve just realized- I love you. As in, uh, more than just a friend.”
“Michelle…”
“Your big heart, your determination, your loyalty to the people you love. Your smile. Fuck…I just, really wanna be with you forever.
Karla took a step back.
“Oh- oh my. I uh, need to dry off my hands.”
Michelle’s mind wandered. Did she go about that the wrong way? Was she too forward? Was her best friend going to hate her forever?
After washing her hands to get Karla’s cum off her hands, she taking a minute or two to think. Karla came back to her best friend, her face full of blush.
She told her she was willing to try being more than friends.
“So…what does this mean for us?” Asked Mitch.
“I guess that just means I know how to do more than one type of magic~” teased Karla.
The “best friends” - now romantic partners - looked into each others eyes, and kissed.
11 notes · View notes
myenemystolvrs · 2 years
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March 2021
completed fics that i read this month.
~read the tags~ 
▶ more than 1 chapter
Sasunaru 
1. When the House Falls Down by sowell [M, 14K, 14ch]
“When the house falls down, all that's left is to rebuild.”
2. Looking for us by fangirlandiknowit [M, 28K, 4ch]
“Being in love with your best friend is never easy, but there might be light on the horizon for Naruto... If only Sasuke wasn't so oblivious!“
3. Healing the Broken by KizuKatana [E, 132K, 23ch]
“The war is over, and Sasuke is brought back to the village after his defeat by Naruto. But he is struggling to re-assimilate into the village. As his mental stability continues to erode, Tsunade and Kakashi ask Naruto to try a different treatment method.”
4. The Worst Shift by CapturedByNoodles, KizuKatana [E, 124K, 24ch]
“A decorated officer of the court with a police record as immaculate as his badge, Naruto Uzumaki was certain he could take on anything. Even if that meant wearing a skirt, procuring a street corner, and going undercover as a prostitute... with his old high school rival as his first client.”
5. Opposite Sides of the Tracks by KizuKatana [E, 77K, 10ch]
“Naruto and Sasuke come from opposite ends of the social strata. Sasuke is heir to the Uchiha business empire. Naruto is just trying to survive childhood. But they are more alike than they realize. When both their lives get ripped apart, the bonds of friendship they forged as children explode into something else entirely.”
6. Rebuilding by KinomiAkai [E, 25K, 7ch]
“Sasuke has spent every day since the war's end trying to rebuild. It's a good thing Naruto has been doing the same, isn't it?”
7. Something Good by KinomiAkai [E, 93K, 29ch]
“Some people are assholes. Some people are kind. It's when those are the same person that things get real confusing.”
8. Something To Remember Me By by heimai [E, 82K, 9ch]
“Every summer, Naruto visits the sleepy beach town of Oceanview. Easily the best part of the trip is the carnival, set up for three days at the end of August. As summers pass, Naruto finds himself coming back again and again to see the boy at the end of the boardwalk. First, he wants to win the game the boy runs, but it turns into wanting to win Sasuke's heart instead. For some reason, Naruto just can't get him out of his head.”
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▶ one shots
1. Can't live without you by fangirlandiknowit [M, 2K]
“Time skip ninja-verse, Naruto and Sasuke admitting/coming to terms with their feelings.“
2. Waiting for the Stars by KinomiAkai [T, 6K]
“Sasuke and Naruto lay under the stars. (There's a meteor shower tonight.)”
3. I Wanna Be Yours by shcrlockholmcs [E, 7K]
“It had been exactly one year, eight months, four days, and six hours since Sasuke had left. Not that Naruto was counting or anything.
Or
Naruto attempts to build a life while Sasuke is away, only for it to all come crashing down when he returns unexpectedly.”
4. safe in your arms. by ambiguousreality [T, 2K]
“Sasuke comes to terms with the cold, hard facts of life.
He actually likes cuddling with Naruto.”
5. there was a reason (i collided into you) by RecklessWriter  [T, 7K]
“Accidental kissing is an actual thing that happens. Sometimes repeatedly. Just ask Naruto and Sasuke.”
6. Flesh and Bone by dawnstruck [M, 14K]
“Like an ouroboros, a snake devouring its own tail, this, too, means eternity.
Alternative summary: "He says we are engaged to each other, you moron.”
7. Because I'm Here Now by SasuNarufan13  [M, 2K]
“Sasuke's body keeps moving on its own - even after all these years.”
8. Waiting for an Answer by KinomiAkai [T, 8K]
“After eight years of struggling, Naruto finally caves and confesses to Sasuke. But it's okay; nothing is going to change between them. Everything will be the same.
...The moment Sasuke stops bringing it up every twenty seconds, it'll be the same.”
9. thirty-five by writedeku [G, 5K]
“You,” Sasuke starts, then falters. “You still have my bedsheets on the bed in the other room. They’re not dusty. Did you know I was comi—“
Ack. “God, no,” Naruto deflects from the redness in his cheeks with the harshness of his words but he knows Sasuke will see right through him. Curse the two of them. “I just. I keep it clean. For you. In case you came home.”
Sasuke is quiet, but he knows what he’s thinking.
Ten years. You did that for ten years?”
10. stay at home dad by chai_lattes [G, 1K]
"You've got a pretty bounty on your head, Uchiha Sasuke."
"It's Uzumaki now." Sasuke said, flipping his hair out of his face. "And I'm retired."
19 notes · View notes
survey--s · 10 months
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678.
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What is your favorite breakfast food? Pancakes! I actually had them this morning for the first time in months and they tasted SO GOOD. Blueberry pancakes with honey and cream.
Who do you (romantically) love? My husband.
Have you ever considered yourself dirty? No.
What do you do to relax? Mess about online, take baths, cuddle with an assortment of our pets, watch Disney movies, take surveys, watch TikTok.
Do you enjoy kissing? It's okay. I'm not a very sexual person, generally speaking.
What about making out? Same as above.
Where are you most ticklish? The soles of my feet. I can't STAND people touching them. I honestly have no idea how people can tolerate foot massages or pedicures - it's quite literally my idea of hell lol.
Have you ever been to an arena concert? Nope. That would be way too much for me.
Where was the last place you kissed someone? In the kitchen.
Do you know anyone who is expecting? Yeah, one of my clients is due in May.
What does your third text message say in your inbox? The third person I received a text from is Suzanne. I don't know what it said though and I CBA to look, lol.
Do you use speed dial? It doesn't even exist anymore.
If so who is number 5? .
Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Yes.
Where do you want to get married? I got married in the registry office in between our house and my parents house. My in-laws live near us so we just picked somewhere in the middle of everyone.
Do you plan on having both your parents at your wedding? They both were there.
If you could visit one person right now, who would it be? Nobody.
Do you like school? I liked the academic side but not the social side.
What is your all time favorite subject that you have ever taken in school? History.
Do you have a current teacher who you wish taught all of your classes? I used to love the history teacher I had in Year 9 or the English teacher I had in year 8. I'd pick them if I could.
What has been your favorite part of this calendar year so far? Beach gallops, getting Simba, my business doing as well as it had.
Are you going on vacation any time soon? I have two weeks off work over Christmas but we're not going anywhere.
Do you catch yourself staring at inappropriate times? Yeah, when I'm daydreaming.
How many times have you been fall-down drunk? 2-3 times.
Has a friend ever really hurt you and you never told them? Yes.
Where would your most romantic getaway spot be? A cozy cottage in Vermont. <--- not gonna lie, that sounds amazing.
Have you ever stayed on a ride at a theme park to ride it again? Yeah, a few times. Our local theme park when I was a kid was never very busy and you used to be able to do that all the time.
Have you ever used your sexuality to get you something you wanted? Yes.
What do you count as too spoiled? I don't think it's about what you give your child, it's about their attitude. I grew up surrounded by money and only a couple of people actually came across as "spoilt".
When you don’t feel good, where do you want to be? At home in bed.
Have you ever set an alarm on your phone to remind you to do something? Sure.
Where do you want to raise your children? I don’t want children.
What is your favorite Crayola scented crayon? I don't think I ever used any scented crayons. I used to like the blueberry gel pens though!
What is your favorite childhood TV show? Arthur.
Do you ever look at yourself and not believe it’s you? Nope.
What’s your favorite hideaway place? Home, or this little oasis I found in the sand dunes last week. It's just tucked away and so pretty.
Do you have a secret you have kept from your family? Sure. Personally I think it's weird to tell your family everything.
Have you ever slow danced to a song you didn’t know? Probably.
Where do you study? I don't.
Do you study at all? No.
What do you want to be when you grow up? I'm a dog walker/pet sitter.
Has someone ever dedicated a song to you? Yes.
How many people have you kissed this month? One.
Do you like do have your hair pulled? Nope.
Are you close with your parents? Yeah, with my mum at least. I don't really speak to my dad.
How much do you wish/ hope for something before you give up? I mean, I don't wish or hope for things, really. If I really want something I go and make it happen.
Have you ever hung out with a complete stranger? Not just us, but in a group of other people, yeah.
Do you work any holidays? Nope. One of the main advantages of being self-employed. I really do NOT miss it. At all.
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takecareluv · 3 years
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‎‧₊˚ ꒰ vinnie masterlist ꒱ؘ ࿐ ࿔*:・゚
sweet dreams - y/n has a hard time sleeping & vinnie is there to comfort her !
happy meal - a typical date night with vinnie & the reader !
home - vinnie & the reader take a trip to seattle !
seattle mornings - vinnie takes y/n with him on a walk around his hometown to visit his favorite spots !
7:03 p.m. - y/n watches the sunset with her favorite boy !
self care night - y/n treats vinnie to a night of self care after he has a rough day !
laguna beach - a beach day with vinnie & the reader while on a trip to laguna with their friends !
good morning, sun - a slow morning with vinnie & the reader !
baby fever - y/n gets baby fever after seeing vinnie play with his younger cousins !
strawberry smoothie - vinnie & the reader workout together (after some bribing) !
the city of love - a day in paris with vinnie & y/n !
buttercup - in which vinnie & reader go on a date to paint pottery !
cramps & cuddles - vinnie takes care of an emotional reader on her period !
ignore the comments - reader gets insecure after receiving a lot of hate from fans but vinnie being the good boyfriend he is, is there to comfort her !
you big baby - vinnie begs reader to watch a horror movie and ends up being more scared !
i got you baby - vinnie being his usual clingy and protective self at a party with an introverted reader !
second chances - vinnie misses an important date (and lots of others) with the reader and eventually has to make it up to her !
a night in barcelona - vinnie and reader share a romantic moment in the streets of spain until they bump into some fans !
take care, love - a headcanon about vinnie always making sure the reader is okay, even when he’s the one feeling anxious !
to infinity - where vinnie buys you a necklace for your one year anniversary together !
it’s you & me - (part two to second chances) vinnie and the reader take a trip to lake como, italy and enjoy a day very much like their wedding day !
all in a days work - vinnie meets the new barista at his favorite cafe & falls in love at first sight !
rosy cheeks - reader never fails to turn vinnie into a blushing mess !
sorry but he’s mine - after receiving a bunch of hate, y/n let’s the internet know who vinnie truly belongs to !
surprise! - a pregnant y/n bakes a cake and surprises vinnie with the good news of her pregnancy !
beach cuddles - vinnie and the reader take a nap on the beach & the internet freaks out over the photos of you cuddling !
childhood sweethearts - you and vinnie were best friends since birth, and as you got older that blossomed into something more !
birthday getaway - vinnie and the reader go to hawai’i to celebrate both of their birthdays !
a quiet love - y/n prefers a much more quiet love than the big, crazy type that society adores, and she finds exactly that with vinnie !
bad haircut - y/n is upset over a bad haircut and vinnie is there to comfort her !
forgiveness & face masks - vinnie is stressed & lashing out at reader when she wants to spend quality time with him and has to make it up to her !
birthday kiss - you & vinnie have been best friends (and in love) since you were kids, and reader flys to l.a. to surprise him on his 20th birthday !
vin’s special day - you celebrate vinnie’s birthday just you and him !
late night drive (taylor’s version) - you and vinnie take a drive when you can’t sleep & end up jamming out to taylor swift !
disney day - you and vinnie spend a magical day at disneyland !
the sesame scare - reader has a bit of a health scare & vinnie is by her side through it all, taking care of his girl !
forever - a look into the day of reader & vinnie’s wedding !
crushin’ - you meet vinnie through liza and develop a little not so little crush !
malibu sunset - vinnie takes you to his hidden spot in malibu where you share a romantic moment !
my mommy - you’re a single mom with a little boy who is extremely protective of you & it take some time for him to warm up to vinnie !
sick day - vinnie takes care of reader when she’s not feeling good !
family style - you finally take vinnie home with you to visit your big family & they all love him !
partner in crime - vinnie breaks the news to his sister that he is moving to la & she doesn’t take it too well !
taste test - reader is a picky eater and vinnie helps her try new foods !
stood up - reader gets stood up on a date to which vinnie ends up picking her up from, despite reader thinking he hates her !
skateboard lesson - vinnie teaches reader how to ride a skateboard and the reader gets hurt !
sweetheart - vinnie is protective over reader who is too sweet for her own good !
a picture is worth a thousand words - your grandkids find an old photo of you and vinnie and ask for the story behind it !
wallflower - reader is a social butterfly who loves going out while vinnie is a.. you guessed it… wallflower !
bestie breakup - vinnie is there for you when you feel sad over ending a long time friendship !
cuddle day - reader takes care of vinnie when he’s having a bad day !
soft melodies - vinnie plays your favorite song on the guitar after a rough day !
ink baby - you get your first tattoo with vinnie by your side !
she’s the one - vinnie introduces you to his friends & they love you !
581 notes · View notes
luvdsc · 4 years
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august.
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Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him.
pairing :: liu yangyang x reader genre :: fluff, angst ⋮ best friend + college au word count :: 10,500 words warnings :: none. playlist :: time lapse (taeyeon) ⋆ 2 kids (taemin) ⋆ daydreams (exes) ⋆ sharing you (lany) ⋆ august (taylor swift) ⋆ too close to love (will hyde) ⋆ sad stripped (lany) ⋆ strangers (taemin) ⋆ the 1 (taylor swift) author’s note :: can you believe that i literally wrote this entire 10k fic in one day aka today ??? whew this gave me the same rush that i got when i wrote my research paper in the class it was due for the day of, printed it out during break, and handed it in at the end of class :’) ↳ part of the almost collaboration series.
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Liu Yangyang is jumping fences to escape late night parties, shared laughter over childhood favorite cartoons on February mornings, midnight dancing in the refrigerator light, and November kisses stolen in between the shelves of the nearby 7-Eleven. He is obscure doodles in the margins of your physics notes, good intentions laced in December’s mistakes, strawberry lemonade and broken truths wrapped in summer bliss, and September endings with honest lies.
He is your August, he is your everything, but he isn’t yours.
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AUGUST 2018.
August has barely begun to fade away.
You’re eighteen years old, and you’re drunk off of your first taste of freedom, one toe already dipping into the shiny pleasures of adulthood. Your new roommate, Karina, has excitedly told you about the famous beach night themed frat party that kick starts every school year at your university. Everybody who’s anybody would be there, and your heart already races at the thought of going to your very first college party.
“Coral or blue?” Karina holds up a solid colored neon blue bikini and a striped, bright pink one for you to choose between.
“Blue.” You nod towards the first option, and she discards the other one back into the open drawer. You pull out a marigold yellow one and a black one lined with white strings, wordlessly gesturing towards them, and she immediately points to the latter.
“That one is gonna look so cute on you. Well, both would, but I love that one.”
You grin at her, silently thanking whoever decided to pair the two of you together for the random dorming. “Perfect, thanks. Do you know any of the guys hosting the party?”
“Yeah, Dejun? He’s really sweet and a year above us. I met him in the music elective I’m taking.” She turns to take off her shirt and tosses it to the side, pulling on her bikini and wriggling into a pair of ripped jean shorts. “You?”
“Kind of? Jaemin is in my project group in Intro to Engineering. He’s rushing for that frat.” You quickly change out of your outfit and into your chosen swim top and daisy dukes. You make sure to grab a pair of black flip flops from your closet. The bundle of nerves in your stomach grows as you step out of your dorm with your new friend, a bit anxious but also excited to attend your very first party.
Thank goodness for summer weather. It’s still a nice, warm 75 degrees Fahrenheit according to your weather app when you and Karina finally make your way to the frat house. The sun barely begins to set, but the party slash dayger had started earlier and is in full swing. There’s a DJ set up out front, blasting some sort of EDM music, and the lawn is absolutely covered in foam. You see the source of it shakily set up on the roof of the patio along with a couple of boys sitting up there, Hawaiian shirts barely covering their figures. You catch the eye of Jaemin, who happily waves at you from his vantage point, and you wave back at him.
“Oh my god, I love college,” Karina says, grabbing your arm excitedly as the two of you step into the foam. You reach down to pick up some of it before flicking it towards your roommate, who squeals before scooping some up and throwing it in your direction as well.
“Ready for our first shitty college drink?” You pull her through the mass of other students and towards the horribly decorated tiki bar stationed in the corner of the patio.
“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”
The two of you stumble over, still throwing handfuls of foam at each other amidst giggles before making a full stop in front of the bar. The older boy behind the makeshift counter lazily grins at you both, a shell necklace hanging loosely around his neck, and his unbuttoned orange Hawaiian shirt gives you a nice flash of his toned abs.
“Hey, I’m Johnny. What can I get for you two?”
“Two vodka shots, please.”
“Alright, ID?”
You freeze, and Karina’s grip on your arm tightens, and then Johnny laughs, eyes crinkling in the corners. “Relax, I’m just messing with you, freshie. Two vodka shots coming right up.”
He pulls out two small plastic cups and pours out the drinks for you. “How many do you want?”
“This is good for now, thanks.” You and Karina pick up the drinks, smiling a little nervously at him. He flashes another amused smile at you. “Alright, come back anytime if you want another.”
You move away from the patio, and Karina follows close behind. The two of you throw back the drinks and dispose of the empty cups quickly. The burning sensation in your throat disappears after a few seconds, and you turn to your roommate. “Should we find our friends?”
“I think I see Dejun back there! Let’s go say hi, I can introduce you to him.” Karina drags you through the rising foam, the bubbles clinging to your skin, and when you go past the DJ stand, you feel the pounding bass reverberating in your chest harder than ever. You trek past the gate and into the backyard where the foam has risen to your waist, thanks to the enclosed fences. She taps on the shoulder of a boy with the prettiest almond eyes you have ever seen, and you shyly smile at him when he greets you.
“Hey, I’m Dejun.”
Oh my god, even his voice sounds pretty. Older college boys are definitely better and hotter than high school boys. Heck, they’re better than freshman boys. Nobody wants to date a freshman dude, not even the freshman girls.
“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You extend your hand, but then realize how stupid that must be. You hastily start to retract your hand, but he laughs and warmly grasps your hand. Smiling at you, he shakes it firmly, squeezing your hand gently before letting go.
“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N.”
The butterflies in your stomach grow in volume as the conversation goes on, and you’re positively enamored by the end of the night. Karina had given you a look earlier before walking off with Dejun’s friend and joining the dancing crowd. With the addition of his phone number in your pocket and a promise to show you a new song he’s working on with his guitar next Friday, you’re walking on cloud nine.
“Do you want something to drink? I need a refill, and I can go grab you one,” he asks, and you’re about to offer to go with him, but then you remember the teasing upperclassman and simply agree, asking for another shot of vodka.
After he disappears, you look around, eyeing the crowd and wondering if you can spot your roommate anywhere. You bump into someone lightly and turn around to apologize. Your eyes meet a pair of curiously bright ones.
“Sorry about that, I’m looking for my roomie.”
The boy gives you a Cheshire Cat grin. He’s wearing one of those dumb Hawaiian shirts, too, and it’s unbuttoned, but he has a white T-shirt layered underneath it. “No biggie, it’s a massive party and it’s crowded. Who are you looking for?”
“Ah, I don’t know if you know her, but Karina? She went off with this dude, Kunhang, I think?”
His eyes light up at that name. “Oh, I know him! I saw him earlier by the keg stands inside. Your friend might be there, too. I can—”
“THE COPS ARE COMING!” A loud voice bellows, and you freeze up. Suddenly, the music is shut off as everyone starts running away. You start to panic, the terror rising in your chest, and the boy in front of you grabs your hand and pulls you with him. “What are you doing?! Don’t just stand there! We gotta go!”
“Wait, but Kar—” You start to object, but cut yourself off when you bump into his back as he abruptly stops. He scans the backyard, quickly assessing the situation before turning to you.
“There’s way too many people trapped in here, we’re not gonna make it to the gate. We need to climb over the fence. I’ll hoist you up, and you can help me up from there.”
“I don’t even know you,” you protest, and he throws you a look.
“Hi, I’m Yangyang, nice to meet you, I don’t want to get my ass hauled out by the police and continue the icebreakers in jail, so let’s move now. We good?”
“Yeah, okay, we’re good,” you say faintly, mind still whirling around as you try to grasp the situation. “I’m Y/N.”
“Great, now up you go.”
He immediately picks you up without any warning, and you almost fall backwards, arms flailing before you grasp the top of the fence and pull yourself up. Balancing precariously on top of it, you grab his arm, tugging him up until he’s sitting right next to you, too. The both of you swing your legs over the fence and jump down to the other side. You let out a sigh of relief, squatting down as you clutch your heart.
“Oh my god, we made it. I didn’t get arrested at my first party.”
“What an amazing accomplishment.” Yangyang brushes off the back of his shorts. “We aren’t going to jail. Freshman year is gonna be a breeze if your bar is set this low.”
“Hey!” You frown at him, standing up and crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know I’m a freshman?”
“It’s written all over your face.” You give him a look, and he relents. “Only a freshman would be this scared of getting caught.”
“So are you an upperclassman?”
“Nah, this is my first party, too. I’m rushing for Nu Chi. Hold on, wait here.” He sneaks around the edge of the fence, peering around for a few seconds before jogging back towards you. “Okay, the police are over there. I’m gonna have to wait a while before going back in.”
“You have to go back?”
“Part of tonight’s rush process,” he sighs before turning to you. “Do you live on campus?”
“Yeah, I’m gonna walk back now,” you answer, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “It’s late, and I’m not in a partying mood anymore.”
“I can walk you back,” he offers, and you shoot him a grateful smile.
“That’d be great, thanks.”
The two of you start the trek back, an awkward lull in the conversation making itself known. You wrap your arms around yourself, shivering slightly when a soft breeze picks up. There’s a light rustling noise, and you pay no mind to it until a soft cloth is draped over your shoulders. Eyes widening, you notice the colorful, palm tree-printed button down shirt wrapped around you and the boy next to you, looking straight ahead with his hands shoved into his pockets. Smiling to yourself, you slip on the shirt, loosely buttoning the front of it.
“So, Yangyang,” you casually begin, testing his name on your tongue for the first time. You decide you like it. It’s cute. He turns to you, raising an eyebrow, and you continue, “Since our lives are no longer in jeopardy, we can continue the icebreakers, right?”
His lips curve into a smile. “Alright, shoot. What’s your first question?”
“Captain America or Iron Man?”
���Oh, Iron Man, hands down. He’s so…”
You meet him in August.
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FEBRUARY 2019.
“Hey, where’s your cereal? The Reese’s one?”
February marks six months of your relationship with Dejun. It also marks six months of your friendship with Yangyang. It is time for your weekly Sunday rituals of watching old cartoons and eating breakfast, and you could’ve sworn that box was still half full last week. You rummage through the top drawer Yangyang had designated for snacks and other foods in his dorm as he takes out the milk from his mini fridge and carries it over to his desk.
“I ran out a few days ago. There’s Cinnamon Toast Crunch somewhere in there though.”
With a victorious cry, you manage to pull out the slightly crushed box of the aforementioned cereal from underneath the packages of flamin’ hot Cheetos and spicy nacho Doritos and triumphantly bring it over to your best friend. He already pulls out two bowls (which were stolen from the dining hall) and hands over the plastic spoons in his grasp (which was also taken from the dining hall).
“Thanks.” After dropping a spoon into each bowl, you shake out the sugary cereal squares before pouring the milk because you’re not an absolute heathen who puts milk in first, like Sicheng. Yangyang clambers up to his top bunk bed, and you carefully pass over the two bowls of cereal, milk sloshing precariously near the edges. You climb up afterwards, and he gives you your bowl once you settle down.
“So, Scooby Doo or Pokémon?”
“Mm, we watched Pokémon last Sunday already, so let’s do Scooby Doo this time.” He nods in agreement, pulling up the cartoon from the queue in Netflix, and the two of you lean back against the ginormous mound of pillows and stuffed animals of his that occupy nearly half of his bed.
You’re shoveling a spoonful of cereal into your mouth when he casually asks, “So how’re you and Dejun doing?”
Choking slightly, you quickly swallow. “We’re doing good. I think he booked a table at the Italian restaurant down the street for Valentine’s Day. Are you doing anything for Valentine’s?”
“I’m forcing Renjun to come watch that “‘Happy Death Day’ movie with me.” The faint sounds of the Scooby Doo theme song plays in the background as you hum in acknowledgement, mouth twisting into a mischievous smirk.
“That’s so sweet. So who confessed to who? Not gonna lie, I thought you had a crush on Hyuck, not Jun.”
“... I would shove you right now, but I just did my laundry, and rewashing my comforter is expensive and I’m out of quarters.”
You stick your tongue out at him, and he rolls his eyes before lifting his bowl up to sip the best part of having Cinnamon Toast Crunch: the milk infused with all the cinnamony, sugary goodness. You let your spoon fall back into your bowl with a soft clink, a sudden worrying thought popping into your head.
“I bought him some customized guitar picks and a pretty composition book. Do you think he’ll like it?”
“That’s a pretty basic gift, isn’t it? It feels like something Kun would get him,” he teases, but his heart falls when he notices you chewing on your bottom lip, spoon held limply in your hand.
“Hey, I’m just joking, of course he would like it. He’s completely whipped. He’ll love anything from you.” Yangyang’s voice grows softer, and he fiddles with a stray thread on his comforter, avoiding eye contact with you. “I know I would.”
He looks up slightly and sees you smiling gratefully at him, eyes shining bright. He quickly ducks his head, turning away slightly to hide the hues of pink blooming on his cheeks. He feels you leaning over to rest your head on his shoulder with a quiet sigh, and his breath hitches in his throat.
“Thanks, Yang.”
Replaying the sight of your smile in his mind makes his stomach flip flop, and he resists the overwhelming urge to tell you you’re pretty, pushing it back into the farthest crevice of his mind.  Your head on his shoulder makes him feel like he’s carrying the entire world, and he doesn’t know what to do. He paints on a tight smile of his own, silently hoping you can’t hear the way his heart nearly pounds out of his chest.
Yangyang knows that having feelings for his best friend, specifically one of his good friends’ girlfriends, is something he absolutely should not be doing, but he can’t help it. His stupid heart refuses to listen to his brain. For now, all he can do is desperately hope that this dumb crush of his goes away soon because while 99% of his friends are oblivious (including you), Ten and Donghyuck are not. They’ll be able to spot his feelings from a mile away, like how Kun always knows when there’s a good sale going on at the Asian supermarket downtown (This week, it was the 50% off bean sprouts and chili paste).
Letting out an inaudible sigh, Yangyang carefully rests his head on top of yours. Clutching the empty bowl with one hand, he shoves his other one under his thigh to stop himself from reaching over and tangling his fingers with yours. He stares at the screen, watching until the bright colors blur together.
“Anytime.”
He likes you in February.
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AUGUST 2019.
The earth spins around the sun for another time, and August makes its presence known once again. It’s Thursday night, and you’re sitting on the countertop in Nu Chi Theta’s kitchen, swinging your legs back and forth as Yangyang struggles to make some scrambled eggs because the half filled carton of eggs the two of you managed to find is the only thing that isn’t expired (besides Jeno’s protein shakes, but neither of you are gonna touch that cardboard tasting monstrosity).
“Maybe I should make it.” You peer over at the frying pan, wincing when you see the full damage of your future meal. “Did you use oil?”
“Of course I did!” he exclaims indignantly before pitifully pushing around the nearly charred mess of yolk and whites around with his spatula. “I’m not Mark.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” you mutter, waving your hand around to dissipate the acrid burning smell, and Yangyang throws you a dirty look. He grabs a fork and stabs a small chunk of the eggs. Picking it up, he brings it closer to his mouth before hesitating. His eyes dart to you, and you raise your eyebrows at him, a silent challenge in your gaze. The sad piece of egg hovers in the air for a few more seconds before he defeatedly drops it back into the pan.
“Okay, what if we just Uber Eats some McDonald’s?” Turning off the stove, he then tosses the remnants of his cooking into the trash and drops the pan into the sink.
“Stellar plan. Best idea you’ve had all night.” You hop off the counter to stand next to him, propping your chin on his shoulder to see him pull up the app. He immediately puts in your usual order along with his before holding it up for you to see it better.
“Looks good?”
“Looks perfect.”
He clicks the confirmation button, and the delivery is set to come in 30 minutes. You’re suddenly hyper aware of how close you are with your chest pressed against his back and hastily move away, warmth spreading across your cheeks.
Glancing over at your best friend, you don't miss the way Yangyang smiles down at something on his phone before his fingers fly across the screen. When he looks up, you immediately turn away, focusing your eyes on anything but him.
“Hey, you’re going to the Alpha Sig formal, right?” Yangyang calls out, and you throw on a teasing grin.
“You mean Alpha Sigma Psi, also known as the sorority I’m in?”
“Ah, right, yeah.” He flushes, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. “But you’re going, right?”
You nod, the sudden realization creeping up on you. “Oh yeah, I am, thanks for reminding me. I completely forgot to ask, but do you want t—”
“Ningning just asked me to go with her,” Yangyang blurts out, and you freeze, failing to hide your shock for a split second before you regain your composure.
“Oh wow, that’s great, Yang! I’ll see you there then.” You try to give him a convincing smile. He wrings his hands, biting his bottom lip. Something is on his mind. You can tell. He’s not someone to hold back with his words, but this time, he is.
“I… I don’t know if I’m gonna go,” he says at last. Your heart picks up a little at that. Does that mean he doesn’t want to go to the dance at all? Or does he not want to go with Ningning? If you asked him now, would it make a difference?
“I’ve never slow danced,” he confesses, leaning against the opposite counter, and your heart drops. So that was it. Of course, he wouldn’t reject Ningning. She’s an absolute goddess, heck, you wouldn’t say no if she asked you either. You stamp out that last flicker of hope.
“What if I suck at it?” he continues, absentmindedly carding his fingers through his hair. “Oh god, I bet Yukhei and Kunhang are never gonna let me live it down. I can do choreographed dances, but I’m gonna mess up over a stupid slow dance. But where am I supposed to put my hands?! Like on her shoulders? Her waist? Do I hold her hand?”
Your eyes follow the way his hair ruffles slightly, and you wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. You swallow hard before saying quietly, “I can teach you?”
His hand pauses mid-movement, and your eyes fly down to meet his. His eyes widen, and he contemplates your offer for a split second before nodding excitedly. “Yeah, that’d be great! Can you teach me right now? While we wait for our food to come!”
“S-sure,” you stammer, flustered at the sudden acceptance and his eagerness. “Um, here? In the kitchen?”
“Yeah, why not?” He shrugs before straightening up. “The lights should be dimmed, right? We can kind of mimic that here to set the mood or whatever.”
He goes over and fiddles with the light switch, flicking it on and off, and you laugh, walking over and placing your hand over his. “What are you doing? Some kind of Kevin Nguyen mating call to look for a rave bae?”
“First off, I’m offended that you think I’d be one of them,” Yangyang narrows his eyes at you. “Secondly, I’m trying to make this feel more formal dance-y. Oh, wait!”
He turns off the lights for the last time and reaches over to pull open the refrigerator doors, the artificial fluorescent light pouring out and mixing with the faint beams coming in through the window from the street lamps outside. He grins at you, satisfied. “Romantic, huh?”
You roll your eyes, but the amused smile on your face gives away your true feelings. “Wow, Romeo, you swept me off my feet. The food is gonna go bad, and Kun is gonna kill you for the high electricity bill.”
“What food? Jeno’s protein shakes probably never expire.” He snorts before standing closer to you, his hands resting on either side of you on the counter. You can see the pretty gold flecks in his irises, and your breath gets caught in your throat. “And I guess this means you gotta teach me fast before we waste more electricity, right?”
You place your hands on his chest and lightly push him away, and he laughs, stepping back. You let out a shaky breath, remembering that your lungs need oxygen in order to, you know, continue living.
“Okay,” you clear your throat before pulling out your phone and putting on a slow song. “Ready?”
“You chose Ed Sheeran? Thinking Out Loud? Really?”
You raise your hands up defensively. “Hey, he’s the king of sappy slow songs that all girls want to be played at their weddings for their first dance.”
When your legs don't work like they used to before,
And I can't sweep you off of your feet,
Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?
Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?
“Is this the song you want played at your wedding?” He raises an eyebrow at you, and your face grows warm. You ignore the question, and this time, you’re the one taking a bold step forward, a few centimeters now separating you and your best friend. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps lightly before meeting your eyes.
And darling, I will be loving you 'til we're seventy,
And baby, my heart could still fall as hard at twenty-three,
And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways.
“So, your hands go here.” You take his hands and place them on either side of your waist. His arms freeze up. “Relax, Yang. Precious cargo here.”
He lets out a chuckle, loosening his grip as he starts to relax. You reach up and slide your arms around his neck, interlocking your fingers. You gaze back at him, saying softly, “Now pull me closer.”
He does so.
Maybe just the touch of a hand,
Oh me I fall in love with you every single day,
And I just wanna tell you I am.
“And now follow my lead. We’re going to take one step. And then another. We’re just slowly turning in a circle.”
After a few spins and steps, you stop leading and let yourself be led. Yangyang continues to hold onto you carefully, and you can hear him muttering a 1, 2, 3, 4 count under his breath until he finally gets the hang of it. He grows a little braver, pulling you even closer.
So honey now,
Take me into your loving arms,
Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars.
“Are you going with Dejun?” he asks quietly, and you stiffen at the mention at him before shaking your head.
“No, we broke up in July.”
Yangyang falters in his step before recovering. “Oh. You never told me.”
“Yeah.” You struggle to keep your voice level. “I just… he’s your friend, and I didn’t want to make it weird.”
“You’re my best friend though,” he says firmly, looking you directly in the eyes. His grip on your waist tightens. “It’s his loss. That dumbass just lost the best person who’ll ever come into his life.”
You give him a tired half smile, one that doesn’t quite meet your eyes. He hugs you closer to him, wrapping his arms around your waist and securing you against his chest. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and hope that he doesn’t feel how quickly your heart beats in your chest.
Place your head on my beating heart,
I'm thinking out loud,
Maybe we found love right where we are.
“Thanks, Yang,” you whisper, your breath tickling his skin. He envelops you tightly, and the two of you continue to spin in slow circles, quietly dancing in the refrigerator light as the remaining verses of the song warble in the background.
You think you finally understand what Dejun meant when he said he’s breaking up with you because your heart was already occupied by someone else.
You fall in love with him in August.
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NOVEMBER 2019.
[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: hey you up?
[ 12:54 a.m. ] yang 🐏🤪: 7/11 in ten mins?
Tiredly rubbing your eyes, you stumble out of your dorm building, one of Jeno’s sweaters draped over your figure. November nights are cold, but this one seems chillier than usual. Yangyang stands near the front steps, and he stiffens up when he notices whose hoodie you’re wearing. He makes no mention of it though when you join him.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” He glances over to you as the two of you walk side by side to the small convenience store just on the edge of campus. You shake your head, shoving your hands into the front pocket of your sweater.
“I was up cramming for midterms. I could use a break anyway,” you shrug. A wisp of your hair falls in your face, and Yangyang starts to reach out to fix it, but forces himself to keep his hand by his side. You reach out to carelessly brush it away, tucking it behind your ear.
“What about you?” You look over at him, noting the bags under his eyes. “Rough night?”
He smiles tiredly at you, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kicks a stray pebble along the sidewalk. “More like rough week. Two more midterms left, and they’re for electromagnetic theory and linear systems.”
“Oh god, good luck. I took linear systems today, and it was absolutely brutal.” You wince, brightening up when you see the familiar neon orange, red, and green lights up ahead.
“Maybe I should just withdraw and take it again next quarter,” your best friend grumbles, kicking the stone as far as he possibly can.
“You really want another quarter with Hwang?”
“You’re right,” he sighs, “I just need to get a C+ to maintain my GPA. C if I’m pushing it.”
The two of you hurry over to the 7-Eleven, quickening your pace, until you reach the store doors, and you pull them open. Entering quickly, you push the door open slightly wider, and Yangyang slips in behind you. The cashier doesn’t even look up, texting away on his phone. You make a beeline towards the chips aisle, grabbing a bag of flamin’ hot Cheetos and a pack of sour gummy worms.
“What are you getting, Yang?” You call out over your shoulder, eyes zeroing in on the Red Bull stand at the end of the aisle. When you hear no response, you halt in your steps, turning around. Yangyang stands in the middle of the aisle, looking dazed under the fluorescent lights.
Putting your items back on the shelf, you approach him, reaching out and touching his arm gently. “Yangyang, what’s wrong?”
He jerks back before silently holding up his phone for you to see. There’s a slew of text messages from Ningning a few hours ago, and a quick scan tells you all you need to know. Your heart weighs heavily in your chest when you look back at him, a forlorn expression on his face.
“She dumped me,” he says quietly, shoving the phone back into his pocket. “She said our relationship was like a friendship. She didn’t feel anything. She said we could still be friends if I wanted to be though.”
He jabs a large bag of Lays potato chips angrily as his voice raises slightly higher. “But I don’t get it. Do friends take each other on dates? Do friends spend the night? Do friends hug each other and hold hands walking to class? Do friends spend three hundred dollars to do a surprise weekend trip for their birthday?”
He whirls around to face you, and he’s so close that you can see those pretty golden sparkles in his eyes again. Suddenly, his hands are cupping your face, and the next thing you know, he’s kissing you. Your eyes widen for a fraction of a second before they flutter shut, and you press your lips against his. The 90s pop station music playing overhead seems to fade away, and all you can focus on is that your best friend tastes like spearmint gum and grape soju. He pulls away abruptly, the realization of what he’s done finally hitting him as his chest heaves up and down.
“Do friends kiss like this?”
His voice is barely a whisper, but it cuts through the silence. You feel like you’re spinning out of control, a split second from careening and crashing.
“No, we—they don’t,” you mumble, and Yangyang sees the starstruck look in your eyes, and he wants to apologize: to say sorry for kissing you. But he doesn’t. Because for some reason, he doesn’t feel sorry. He closes his eyes, curling his hands into fists before exhaling slowly. He sees you looking back at him this time, and he wonders if you feel as equally lost as he does.
Because you’re right. Friends don’t kiss each other like that. Friends don’t feel like this about each other.
He kisses you in November.
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AUGUST 2020.
The sun still shines bright late into the day, and August greets you like an old friend. You’re absentmindedly doodling in the margins of your notebook designated for Quantum Mechanics. Yangyang sits next to you in the lecture hall, making a bunch of origami cranes before tossing them at Renjun’s head right in front of him. When the bird reaches its target for the sixth time in a row, the annoyed boy whirls around in his seat, glaring at your best friend.
“Stop that,” he hisses, and Yangyang innocently raises his hands in the air. Renjun angrily frowns at him before turning back around in his seat. After a few minutes, Yangyang flicks another crane towards his friend. If this was a cartoon, you would see steam blowing out of your friend’s ears. You silently watch as he wordlessly picks up his phone, seething as he presses on a particular number.
Suddenly, Travis Scott’s SICKO MODE starts blasting, amplified by the large auditorium-like room. The professor goes silent, and everyone turns to see Yangyang scrambling to pick up his phone. He fumbles around for a few seconds with it before finally shutting it off and putting it on vibrate mode. Cheeks burning red, he meekly puts his phone back in his bag and squeaks out a “sorry” before sinking down in his chair (You can see the culprit grinning like the cat ate the canary right in front of him. Karma’s a bitch who also goes by the name of Renjun).
You pat his arm consolingly as he sulks next to you for a few minutes, mouth jutting out into a pout. You decide to take pity on him and lean closer to him, whispering quietly, “Would it make you feel better if I bought you boba after class?”
Immediately, he brightens up. “One oolong milk tea, half sugar with white pearls and coconut jelly?”
“Yes, I’ll pay for your overpriced drink,” you huff, thinking about how his one seven dollar drink could buy you a whole rotisserie chicken that’ll last you a week. At least the fluffy dog at Cloudy with a Chance of Boba is cute and fun to play with. “I’ll even get the honey waffle fries.”
“Heck yeah!” he whisper-yells, fist pumping quietly before he suddenly deflates. “Wait, I can’t. I promised Lia I’d get lunch with her.”
Ah, right, there’s Lia now. Yangyang’s new girlfriend: the only other student who went to Düsseldorf, Germany to study abroad over the summer, and inevitably, the two of them became close. All you really know about her is that she’s pretty, she’s in Iota Theta Zeta, and she followed you on Instagram a few weeks ago (of course, you followed her back because of the unspoken best friend and girlfriend policy).
Her page looks carefully curated, and there’s a common pink tinted theme going on throughout her feed. She has over a thousand followers, and it seems like Yangyang fits perfectly in her magazine curated life, judging by how he occupies nearly every picture taken in the summer with her or how he’s tagged as the photographer. You can’t deny that they look good together, pointedly shoving the green eyed monster back under the bed.
You take a peek at your messy Instagram page where you only post pictures when you’re half drunk, so there’s no semblance of uniformity anywhere. You shrug at him, pocketing your phone.
“No biggie. I’ll see if Karina is up for some boba. She’s been holed up in the dance studio already, and it’s only week two of classes, can you believe it?”
“I remember Ten was the same way,” Yangyang hums, eyes fixated on his phone and fingers tapping away. He laughs quietly, lips curling into a pretty smile, and you glance over curiously.
“What’s so funny?”
“Hmm?” Yangyang finally tears his eyes away from his screen for a split second to look at you before another buzz takes his attention away. He’s distracted, lovestruck, and you wistfully smile before turning back to your notes.
“Sorry, what’d you say earlier?” he loudly whispers a few minutes later, and you barely glance up from the large bulbasaur doodle you’re in the progress of completing right next to the chart marking the wave functions for a bouncing ball that you had copied down from the blackboard.
“Oh, I just asked what was so funny,” you murmur, coloring in the flowers you drew around the Pokémon with your blue ballpoint pen.
He looks confused for a moment before lighting up. “Oh! It was just a German joke. It’s not really funny if I translate it though.”
“Got it, no worries.” You notice the professor starting a new example problem, and you abandon your drawing, focusing on the formulas rapidly filling up the chalkboards in front of you. A quiet chuckle echoes in your ears, and you pause in your note taking to look over and see your best friend still typing on his phone. You make a mental reminder to create a copy of your notes for him later on when you pass the library on the way to the dining hall.
“Hey, Y/N.” Yangyang nudges you gently. “Rain check on the boba?”
You offer him a soft smile. “Of course. Anytime.”
He gives you a quick grin in return before his attention returns to the device in his hand—or rather, the pretty girl behind those texts. Your best friend is sitting right next to you, but you’ve never felt so far away. You know distance makes the heart grow fonder, but you don’t think it’s possible to be even fonder of him than you are now. Bad habits are hard to break, and you’ve made a terrible one of loving him. No wonder it’s beginning to hurt so much.
You lose him in August.
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DECEMBER 2020.
December is the coldest month of the year, yet it is also simultaneously the warmest with all the holiday festivities it brings. If Yangyang were to choose a month to describe you, it’d be this one. You are a walking paradox, a conundrum he might never solve, an oxymoron come to life. He doesn’t understand how you can be his best friend, yet feel like a stranger; a friend who he wants as a lover; someone who has created such an impact in his life, but disappears seamlessly here and there.
He wonders when you’ve gotten so distant. He wonders why he never noticed the way you seemed to slip away through the cracks until it’s now nearing the end of the year, and the last time he’s seen you in person was before the November autumn break.
But you’re here.
You’re standing right next to the punch bowl filled with spiked eggnog, wearing a garish knitted button down jumper with brightly colored Christmas lights decorating it. It’s perfectly in theme with the Ugly Christmas Sweater party Nu Chi is holding, and Yangyang is beyond ecstatic to know that you’re attending. He had texted you an invite two weeks ago, and you merely reacted with a thumbs up.
Yangyang swears he was going to follow up with you on that, but he got so caught up with midterms, then meeting Lia’s family for Thanksgiving, then studying for finals, and then finally, preparing for this party. Buying enough beer for twenty-three keg stands is a lot more difficult than it seems (Donghyuck’s car broke down halfway during one trip, and they all had to carry back the packs of beers to the house in 40 degree weather in their Sperry boat shoes and Patagonia long sleeves that definitely weren’t cut out for this kind of weather).
His girlfriend is somewhere in the room, wearing the other half of the reindeer sweater she forced him to put on, but all he can focus on is you. He hurriedly makes his way over, skidding to a stop in front of you, and you’re startled before a smile spreads across your face.
“Hey, you, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You grin at him, reaching out to poke the reindeer tail sticking out from the front of his itchy sweater (Lia got to wear the head half of the reindeer, while he was stuck with the behind).
“Yeah, how have you been?” He reaches around you to pick up a cup and pour himself some eggnog. He offers you one, but you decline with a small shake of your head.
“I’ve been doing good, a bit tired with finals coming up, but what’s new?” You joke, grabbing one of the sugar cookies from the table. You’re secretly surprised that they actually have real food (No, Hyuck, Jell-O shots do not count as real food). You suspect Jaemin has something to do with it. He always contributes to the annual Greek row bake sale.
“Are you here with someone? Did Karina come?” he asks, curiosity coating every word. He looks around for your roommate, but she’s nowhere to be found.
You shake your head. “No, I actually came with—”
“Me!”
Yukhei bounds over, slipping an arm over your shoulder. He hands you a new cup of apple cider, which you accept gratefully. He grins happily at Yangyang, who freezes up at the sight of his tall friend. “I asked her to be my date for the party, and she agreed. She also made our sweaters! Aren’t they so cool? There’s even lights that spell my name and play Christmas songs. She did a bunch of cool programming tricks to make them work.”
Yangyang realizes with a start that the two of you are indeed wearing matching sweaters, and that leaves a rather sour taste in his mouth (and it definitely wasn’t because of expired eggnog). The corners of his lips tilt downward as he presses his lips together tightly.
“So… you two are together?” He gestures between you and Yukhei with a forced laugh. Jealousy never did look good on anybody, and unfortunately, he’s not an exception.
“We’re just seeing each other and seeing how it goes for now,” you answer quietly, noting the way your best friend reacts. You have always been good at reading him, and you tread carefully now, not wanting to make a scene. Drunk Yangyang never holds anything back, and he’s had quite a few pre-game shots already (It definitely doesn’t help that he’s a lightweight, too).
“I see. How did you guys meet? Or I guess, start talking?” He attempts to look intimidating, staring down at Yukhei, but it’s a difficult feat to accomplish, especially when he’s trying to stare down a six foot guy who’s more like an overgrown puppy and his friend.
“Oh, she came by for one of your boba runs, but you were still out with Lia. So I asked if I could go with her.” Yukhei flashes his pearly whites at you, and you chuckle, leaning your head against his shoulder.
“I said yes, and we hit it off, I guess.”
“You guess? And you took him on our boba runs?”
“You were out with Lia,” you say defensively, and he blanches when he hears his girlfriend’s name come out of your mouth.
“You could’ve waited,” he mutters, but you still hear it, and you give him a scathing look, finally too tired of this push and pull game that’s been going on behind the scenes for nearly three years now.
“I did. I waited over an hour here for you, but you didn’t show up or even text me that you were gonna be late. Yukhei was nice enough to offer to go with me.”
He stays silent, and you gnaw on your bottom lip, unsure of what to say next. Yukhei looks at you in concern, but you reach up and squeeze his hand reassuringly, which your best friend doesn’t fail to notice, his lips pressing into an even thinner line.
“I don’t understand what the deal is,” you finally burst out, startling both boys. “What’s the big deal about me and Yukhei going out?”
Something inside of him finally snaps. “The big deal is that you’re basically sleeping through my list of friends and then breaking up with them! First Dejun, then Jeno, now Yukhei? Who’s next? Should I give Renjun a heads up? Pencil you into his planner? Or Sicheng?  Sungchan? You have a class with him, so you’re bound to flirt with him, too, right? When are you gonna stop fucking around with my frien—”
He gasps, stopping mid-outburst as he stares at you in disbelief. Apple cider slides down from his hair, dripping onto his face and soaking into his sweater, the sticky juice clinging to his skin uncomfortably. You’re absolutely seething, the empty cup crackling in your clenched fist. Shocked, Yukhei carefully tugs the plastic away from you and places it on the table before replacing it with his own hand, his thumb caressing circles on the back of your hand soothingly. Yangyang doesn’t dare to meet his furious gaze, lifting his chin to look at you instead. The entire room has hushed down by now, all eyes staring directly at the three of you in a mixture of surprise and slight terror.
“Screw you, Yangyang,” you say lowly, voice shaking with anger. Tears form on the edge of your waterline, but you blink them away before hastily brushing a stray droplet from your cheek. “They asked me out. I said yes. We went out. It didn’t work out. We move on. Just like how you’ve gone out with my  friends. And they didn’t work out, so you moved on. So what’s so wrong about that? What’s so wrong about trying again to find love?”
He can’t answer you, curling his hands into fists until his fingernails indent miniature crescents in his palms—until the pain overtakes the feelings that are threatening to spill from his heart. Yangyang may not be yours, but he doesn’t like the fact that he can’t call you his either.
Love. That’s what you want, that’s what you crave, but not if it’s from him. So what is he supposed to do with love that’s unwanted? It’s bursting at the seams, and he has nowhere to hide it anymore.
He loves you in December.
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AUGUST 2021.
August sneaks up on you this time around, and you find yourself in Kunhang’s apartment. All of your close friends are here, starting the last year of youth with one final first day party. You think back to that day three years ago: when your eyes met a pair of equally bright ones for the first time.
Curled up next to Yukhei on the couch, you look across the room and meet those very same eyes, although they seem hazier this time around. Lia is wrapped around his arm, and you think it’s quite ironic how both your and his relationships remain the same after all this time. Perhaps you both were bad luck for each other, leading to the other’s demise with short lived relationships. He looks away from you.
The rules of truth or dare are simple. You cannot ask the same person again until three other people have been asked first, and no one can be asked more than three times in each round. And, for reasons you can’t understand, everyone seems to take the code of truth seriously.
“I’ll start,” Kunhang announces, leaning back in one of the several beanbags he has in his place. “Goeun, truth or dare?”
Goeun sighs, leaning back on the palms of her hands. “Dare.”
“You and Mark, seven minutes in heaven.” Hendery points towards the coat closet, and the immediate reaction of hoots and wolf whistles has the girl rolling her eyes. With an exasperated huff, she stands up and pulls a red faced Mark along with her.
“Wait, you gotta pick the next person!” Donghyuck calls out, and she stops in her tracks, throwing open the closet door and shrugging. “You can choose for me.”
With that, she and Mark disappear behind the door, and Donghyuck turns toward the rest of the group, eyes glimmering mischievously. You pay no attention to him, absentmindedly playing with Yukhei’s fingers. You tug one of his rings off his finger, and he smiles, plucking it from your grasp carefully before holding your hand. He carefully slides it onto your right ring finger, but it falls off. Grinning, he pretends to try it on every single one of your fingers until finally settling on your thumb. The ring fits snugly there, and you admire it, wriggling your thumb around.
“Well, look at that. It fits you. I think that means we’re meant to be,” Yukhei says, smiling broadly, and you laugh, interlocking your fingers with his again before glancing down at the silver engraved band resting on your finger. The weight of the metal feels heavy resting against your knuckle.
“Yangyang, truth or dare.”
Donghyuck’s voice cuts through your thoughts, and you instinctively perk up in your seat at the sound of his name before freezing up in your spot. Yukhei squeezes your hand softly, and you tighten your grip around his fingers.
“Truth.”
“You’re no fun,” Donghyuck sighs, slouching back against the armrest. Yukhei leans over and whispers something in his ear before settling back next to you, shifting slightly to wrap his arm around you. Donghyuck lifts an eyebrow at your boyfriend before shrugging. “Okay, here’s an easy one. Are you in love…”
“Yes.”  is his immediate response, and you notice how Lia absolutely preens next to him.
“… with Y/N?”
Your breath hitches in your throat, and you immediately turn your head to look at Yukhei, your eyes growing wide in horror. He looks apologetic, shoulders drooping. “I’m sorry, but just the way he looks at you, it’s so obvious, and I had to know.”
You whip around to face the boy in question. With bated breath, you look at him, but Yangyang stares at the center of the floor, struggling internally. Everyone is quiet, and it reminds you of the calm before a storm. At last, he looks up, gazing right at you, and you can almost swear that you see those pretty little gold flecks in his irises from here.
“Yes,” Yangyang confesses quietly.
There’s almost a collective gasp rippling through the room, and Yukhei lets out an inaudible swear under his breath. Your grip on his hand grows slack as you fumble to get a grasp on the entire situation.
He loves you. He loves you. He loves you.
The words echo in your mind like a mantra until it grows so loud that you can’t hear any of your own thoughts anymore. Lia is in absolute hysterics, demanding an explanation from him, but he merely shrugs her off. Standing up, he quickly moves to leave the room, glancing at you one more time before disappearing out the front door.
It’s like your body is on auto-pilot after this. You drop Yukhei’s hand, immediately standing up and rushing after your best friend, paying no mind to the hushed whispers that only seem to increase in volume once you leave. You step out onto the porch, and there he is, sitting on the steps.
You quietly stand behind him, contemplating what to say and carefully choosing your next words. But there’s only one question on your mind.
“Why did you say that?”
He stays silent for a moment, staring out at the moon shining brightly ahead. “Because I meant it.”
Your heart wrenches in your chest. “You shouldn’t.”
He finally turns to look at you, an indescribable look in his eyes. It reminds you of heartbreak. “But I do. And I tried not to for the past three fucking years, but I can’t anymore.”
“Since freshman year?” You feel the tears well up in your eyes, and this time, you let them go. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Yangyang grips onto the edge of the stairs tightly, frustration ringing with every word that falls from his mouth. “Because I was scared. And I thought you never felt the same way. You’re my best friend, and I didn’t want to lose you.”
“Yang…” You whisper, hand reaching out as you let it hover over his shoulder for a few seconds. Then, you pull back, curling your fingers into fists, pressing crescent indentations into the palms of your hands.
He stands up, whirling around to look at you, desperate. “Tell me I’m not too late. Please, Y/N.”
Something inside of you breaks. You open your mouth and start to say something when the door opens behind you. Turning around, you see Yukhei. His eyes widen when he sees the two of you standing there.
You know this is it. This is the moment. This is where you have to decide.
“I, I was just looking for you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.” Yukhei awkwardly rubs the back of his neck, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I’m gonna go back in and—”
“No, wait, it’s okay,” you gently interrupt him. You reach out and slip your hand into his, and he relaxes, giving you a relieved smile. You smile softly back at your boyfriend before turning to face him, eyes apologetic.
“I’m sorry, Yangyang.”
He and you are asymptotes: two lines curving towards each other, but never touching; two hands reaching towards each other, but never interlocking; two people tangling their red strings of fate, but never tying.
You give him one last glance before going back inside with Yukhei.
You break his heart in August.
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SEPTEMBER 2021.
September is supposed to be a new beginning: the transition from summer to autumn. Yangyang doesn’t think he can let go of you as easily as the trees shed their green for gold and red. Wherever he goes, wherever he looks, little reminders of you bloom in every crevice. You’re absolutely everywhere and nowhere, and it drives him crazy.
He thinks he’s gone completely insane when he hears your laugh while he’s walking to the laundromat one day. He shoves his airpods in and continues on his way until he sees you. Walking across the street, there you are. You’re on the phone with someone, and he contemplates going over to say hello. But suddenly, you’re hanging up the phone and waving eagerly at someone. When he turns his head to look, his heart drops and gets buried six feet under. He hurriedly ducks into a nearby bookstore and watches as you run up to Yukhei, slipping your hand into his like it’s second nature to you now. The two of you walk off together, and Yangyang is left standing at the window of the store until the shop owner politely asks if there’s anything he needs.
He doubts a time machine is something they have in stock, so he silently shakes his head and steps out onto the street once again. It is now silent and empty.
He loses you in September.
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AUGUST 2022.
A lot can change in eleven months.
You’re twenty two years old, but you feel like you’re eighteen again. You know you’re going to see him for the first time since September at Kun’s housewarming. You had repeatedly assured Yukhei that you’d be fine. After all, life goes on; the world doesn’t stop just because you had a falling out with your best friend, even if it may have been a little more than that. Nevertheless, a year has nearly passed. Time is known to be the best healer, and perhaps your heart has shed its old skin and habits.
Your hand is safely enveloped in Yukhei’s, and the two of you walk towards your older friend’s new apartment. He playfully swings your interlocked hands back and forth, and you giggle, tightening your grip around his fingers. You stop in front of the door, the muffled sounds of a party slipping through the cracks. You suck in a breath, shoulders tensed. He’s in there.
“Are you okay?”
Yukhei squeezes your hand gently, voice laced with concern. You remember to breathe, exhaling slowly and relaxing before nodding. You smile up at him. “I’m okay.”
“If you want, we can go back home now, have another NCIS marathon, and drink this by ourselves.” Yukhei waves around the nice bottle of wine the two of you had brought for Kun. “We can even stop by the convenience store and get some ramen.”
You laugh quietly, the corners of your lips upturning with mirth. “It’s okay, I’m fine, Yukhei, I promise. Plus, I have you, right?”
He brightens up at that, practically beaming at you, and your heart skips a beat. “Right!”
You reach out and knock on the door. Kun greets the two of you, and you enter his apartment. Yukhei still doesn’t let go of your hand, and you follow behind him as you weave your way through the living room, greeting some of your friends. You hear Kunhang calling out to your boyfriend from the kitchen and feel him hesitate next to you. You squeeze his hand gently before letting go and nudging him in the direction of his friend. Yukhei gives you one last look, but you wave him off, smiling goodnaturedly and silently assuring that you’re okay. He swoops down and leaves behind a soft kiss for you before going.
You walk over to the alcohol table, pouring yourself something to drink. Leaning against the wall, you take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting over the rim of your cup and slowly scanning the room. It feels like forever, like everything is moving in slow motion, like the world is submerged underwater, but it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds.
You find him easily. After all, it’s hard to forget someone whose features you’ve memorized over the past four years. Your eyes map the delicate outline of his face once more, and for a moment, you wonder if red is still his favorite color, or who he shares a carton of Ben and Jerry’s with nowadays. You wonder if he thinks of you sometimes, too.
But then, you wonder where Yukhei is. You search around until you see your boyfriend still standing in the kitchen, laughing at something your mutual friend said. Your eyes soften when you see him grab your favorite snack. You turn back around, your heart swelling in your chest tenfold, and your lips curl upwards, an endeared expression on your face.
That’s when you notice that he’s looking at you.
You brace yourself, waiting for the tidal wave of emotions to wash over you and the quickening of your heart rate to greet you like an old friend. Because that’s what always happens when you’re around him. After all, he is the biggest what-if in your life. He is someone you almost loved forever, someone you almost stayed for.
And yet, nothing happens. You wait a little longer. The world still goes round, and you’re still breathing. There’s no shortness of breath, no erratic heart palpitations, no sweaty palms, absolutely nothing. Liu Yangyang is a stranger in a familiar body, and your heart remains still.
You give Yangyang a faint smile, nodding towards him, and it feels like a sudden jolt in his heart. Time stops, and all he can see is you. You look beautiful. You have always been beautiful. This is his chance. Whatever higher entity out there has taken pity on him and given him a second try to make it right. He finally takes a step towards you, and the tender, encouraging expression in your eyes gives him the strength to take another one. After all, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Clutching his drink in hand, he pushes his way through the crowd. He’s only eight, seven, six, five steps away from you now. A smile grows on his face as relief curls around his heart like a bandage. You’re standing there, waiting for him, smiling at him.
And suddenly, you’re no longer looking at him.
You stopped looking at him.
Yukhei makes his presence known next to you, excitedly chattering about something and gesturing towards the kitchen as he hands you something to eat. It’s a snickerdoodle cookie. Your favorite. Your eyes are fixated on the tall boy, positively sparkling as you beam at him.
Yangyang feels like he can’t breathe. The bandage is ripped off, and all he can feel is excruciating pain like a thousand pinpricks into his heart before the numbness hits. He freezes, rooting himself in that spot on the scratched hardwood floor as his colleagues and friends continue to jostle around him. As his world crumbles around him, he can’t tear his eyes away from you. They stay on you, the barest traces of nostalgia lingering in the dimmed golden flecks of his irises that you had still admired all those months ago. It’s like he’s trapped in a silent film, stuck in a fish bowl and swimming in circles, and he watches in horror as you outstretch your hand and intertwine your fingers around Yukhei’s, leaning up to press your lips against his tenderly. Your boyfriend looks at you like you hung the stars in the night sky yourself (He would believe it if you said you did).
You don’t look at him like that anymore.
Yangyang remembers when you used to. When you used to love him. When you were almost his. He feels something inside of him break for a second time.
The world continues to spin, and yet, he’s still not moving. He’s stuck in quicksand, sinking deeper and deeper as everyone around him moves on—as you move on. He desperately tries to keep you in his view, and his feet finally pick up as he lurches forward. He’s not fast enough. You’re slipping away, walking away from him, hand in hand with Yukhei, disappearing around the corner of the hallway, and he can’t do anything about it. It’s too late. He’s too late. The sticky remnants of cheap beer run down his wrist, and it finally registers in his mind that he had crushed the flimsy plastic cup in his hand sometime in between now and then. In a crowded room full of people, he’s left standing there, alone and lonely.
Almost is the worst way to love someone, Yangyang bitterly realizes. It hurts to lose someone you almost love. No, it was never an ‘almost’. He most certainly loved—loves—you. And it should be impossible to lose someone who was never his to begin with, yet he has. All this time, he thought he had you, but it had always been the other way around.
He was your August, he was your everything, and he is yours.
But you will never be his.
You let go of him in August.
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Text
a kiss from the moon | jjk
pairing(s): jungkook x reader
summary: All these years, all these summers, Jeon Jungkook has loved you. His problem? You have no idea. Mostly because he has always said it far too platonically and thrown up in your lap after saying it. Drunk. Fuck. Oh, yeah, and you're also Park Jimin's best friend since preschool. Shit.
warnings: language; alcohol consumption; pining; JK gets distracted by (your) tits during his quest, typical; non-idol!BTS - purple-haired!Jungkook x sleepy af, noona!reader, ft Park Jimin and Kim Taehyung radiating big soulmate energy; childhood friends-to-lovers
yes, it's JK from the 'Butter' beach photos
--
“I love you!”
You lifted your head out of the mountain of pillows, groggy and hazy, squinting at the moonlight filtering through the floating curtains. The night breeze was warm, drifting in softly with the low hum of cicadas. But what was that other sound? That other sound was familiar, wasn’t it?
You heard your name being shouted, followed by, “Wake up!”
You made a face and stumbled out of the bed, sticking your head out of your bedroom window, your own hair flying back and smacking you in the face.
“Yah! Jeon Jungkook, are you trying to wake up the whole damn neighborhood?!”
“Get down here!”
You put on your best disgruntled expression and peered down at the form on your front lawn, shoving your own hair aside.
“What are you going on about?” you muttered, seeing Jeon Jungkook looking up at you, puffing his cheeks, long wet purple hair fading to gray because of the chlorine from swimming all night at that party Park Jimin had invited you to earlier today, to which you had responded, no thanks, I’m going to sleep all day, I worked three double shifts in a row and I have zero desire to be flung into your family’s swimming pool at this time, but I will acknowledge that your offer is very generous, and then promptly passing out for a good – you glanced at your phone with the pink bunny case Jungkook had given you two summers ago – ten hours and it was still not enough for you to comprehend why your best friend’s best friend was standing on your front lawn yelling at your parents’ house that you were watching for a month while they were in Italy getting drunk on far too expensive wine and eating cheese they probably couldn’t pronounce.
Jungkook was shirtless, clad only in orange swim shorts and sandals like a fucking hooligan. He was clutching a plastic red Solo cup and he threw it at the house, yelling your name again.
“Oh my fucking God, don’t litter, you idiot!” you bellowed back, throwing yourself away from the windowsill and crawling on the floor to your bedroom door like the evolution of mankind, making it from all fours to two legs by the time you got to the stairs – good thing too, you might have broken your neck if you were still disoriented – and you dragged yourself downstairs, yanking your white slip dress straight. Not your choice of pajamas. Your mom’s, who told you to be more ladylike, whatever the fuck that meant, and who also informed you in the same breath that it was your only choice of pajamas since they donated all your clothes from high school.
Awesome.
You go to university and your parents yeet all evidence that they had a child and go vacationing.
Good for them.
You wrenched your front door open and shoved your feet into your dad’s giant brown sandals and clapped your way over to the pink-faced, mildly drunk, shirtless man in swimming trunks on your front lawn.
“It’s two in the morning. Why are you standing here drunk and professing your love like some kind of deranged Romeo?” you sighed, rubbing your eyes. “Why aren’t you at Jimin’s?” You spied the red Solo cup and picked it up, whipping your head back to Jeon Jungkook.
He was staring at you with his mouth open.
Charming.
He didn’t say anything for a good ten seconds.
“Alright, fine, let me call my loser of a best friend and tell him to pick up his loser of a best friend, so I can go back to sleep,” you muttered, about to turn around.
Jungkook seemed to sputter back to life. “Wait, um, noona–”
“He speaks! He’s not dead.”
“A… Ah… Um…”
You squinted at him and reached up to knock the side of his head. “Hello? Anyone in there?”
Jungkook blurted out, “I love you.”
His breath smelled a lot like alcohol.
“Yeah, I got that. You also said that when I got you through your Chemistry and World History exams. Both times. You also say that to like, what, six of your guy friends? Don’t get me started on the amount of times you’ve said it and thrown up in my lap right after. Don’t do that this time,” you added sternly, prodding at his chest. “I’ve got one set of pajamas because my mom forgets that human beings change clothes, so throw up on the grass.”
“Uh… that’s pajamas…?”
“Lady pajamas,” you grumbled sarcastically, lifting the lid and chucking the crumpled Solo cup into your parents’ trash can. “Since I’m not lady enough apparently according to my mom, even though I’m ninety-nine percent sure giant band t-shirts are completely unisex but, whatever, it’s just a dress, not a big deal.”
“Um.”
You looked at Jungkook, who looked back at you, who put your hands up and gestured him to say something, who in response rose his hands and flapped them in confusion, giving you absolutely zero helpful communication. The movement reminded you he had gotten his right arm and hand tattooed in the last couple years, the black ink standing out against tan skin. You hadn’t seen him too many times during your university years, too busy completing research papers and staying late nights in laboratories, only to now end up working on hospital software and sitting on your ass all day. Life, eh? These past three days were spent on working through bugs for the next software update and you had maybe lost all social skills as you attempted to unravel lines of code that you stared at for forty-eight out of the past seventy-two hours.
Fun!
“Do you need a cookie? A shower? The Bible?” you offered, waving your hands. “Maybe tell me why you’re here, yes?”
He was staring and you realized you were slightly bent over in your gesture, your breasts firmly pressed into the cups of the slip dress. You straightened and Jungkook’s wide dark brown eyes went back to your face.
“I… I didn’t realize you had come back, noona.”
You raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about? I told Jimin last week. He said he was hanging out with you and Taehyung. I figured he’d just tell you guys then.”
Jungkook shook his head quickly, gray-purple hair flying about. He pointed to the left, where Jimin’s house was several blocks over. “He only mentioned it just now, when he was throwing up in the bathroom from doing eight shots in a row because Taehyungie dared him.”
“…. Maybe he needs the Bible…” you muttered, shaking your head.
Then the realization hit you.
“Did you walk here from Jimin’s and straight up abandon the party?”
Jungkook tilted his head and thought about it. “Yeah.”
You looked around to find the camera and see if you were being pranked, but there was no camera because this life wasn’t purely for entertainment, right? Nah, this wasn’t The Matrix.
Mhm.
“Hah, well, what’s wrong? Are you upset I didn’t go to the party or something? I had three double-shifts this week, I wasn’t going to be any fun passed out before actually drinking–”
“Yoongi-hyung was passed out before drinking.”
“In some ways, I swear that guy and I are the same person,” you laughed, shaking your head. “Anyway, I’m sorry I didn’t go and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I really banked on Jimin not being an airhead, but once again he is, so maybe I should reconsider him as my best friend…”
“Noona, I…”
You looked up from your mental consideration of Park Jimin’s pros and cons, the first pro being he punched that ex of yours that cheated on you with some Tinder hookup and that was already enough to stop contemplating, so you blinked at Jungkook curiously, looking into wide brown eyes, long strands of ash-purple floating around his handsome face from the night breeze, brushing against his parted lips, highlighting the mole underneath them, placed perfectly in the center like a kiss from the moon itself.
“Can I take a shower and sleep it off here?”
You tilted your head. “Yeah, sure. You can borrow my dad’s clothes. You should call Jimin though. You don’t want him to panic that he lost you.”
“Y… Yeah, okay…”
-
Jeon Jungkook really thought he could say it this time.
Collected all his courage and ran, ran as fast as he could, couldn’t believe Jimin had neglected to say she was coming home over the summer for more than a day, days without her reminding Jungkook that he was a coward for not saying it when he could have, having lost his most important person in the world because he was too afraid of telling Park Jimin that he was in love with his best friend.
He remembered that smile wearing nothing but a large t-shirt, sitting on Jimin’s bedroom floor, crushing all of them at UNO and cackling as Jimin blew up for ending up in last place for the third time in a row, yelling that the game was rigged, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her tonight.
And he didn’t.
He remembered her saying to Taehyung that she just wasn’t into girly things. They were having this argument over pizza and Taehyung was waving his around saying she should at least try a dress on every once in a while, never know, might actually like it, and her rolling her eyes as she shot back that she didn’t have to do anything just because it was stereotypical for her gender. Taehyung told her to stop using big words and waved his hands, accidentally flinging his pizza slice into her lap, and Jungkook remembered thinking, I should tell her after we clean up.
And he didn’t.
He remembered seeing her prepare to leave for university once again, holding a small package from the internet and handing it to her, a small but practical belated birthday gift, both of them surprised when she opened it, not the matte black phone case he had ordered, but somehow mixed up with a pink bunny phone case that had no business being owned by someone who didn’t like girly things.
“Oh, shit, I’m so sorry, I didn’t order this–”
And she laughed, shaking her head. “That’s okay, I gotta go, thanks anyway, Jungkook!”
The years went by and every year Jungkook told himself, this is the one, and every year he just couldn’t say it.
He thought he could say it now, drunk and furious at Jimin for not preparing him for this moment, but on his way here Jungkook figured that perhaps this was preferred, that maybe it was better that he couldn’t sit around nervously overthinking what to say.
But, of course, the problem was…
He had already said it in a platonic way.
Shit.
He really fucked himself throughout the years.
Jungkook sighed, now wearing borrowed clothes, holding the note of her handwriting as he rubbed his hair with the towel.
I washed your shorts and they’re hang-drying now. You can sleep in the guest room. I left a glass of water and some hangover meds. If you need anything, I’ll be asleep but you can attempt to wake the dead if you want.
He walked down the hall, towel around his shoulders. Her bedroom door was open. He stood outside the entrance, sighing, seeing her sleeping form and her bedside table, her phone sitting on the charger.
His breath caught in his throat as he recognized that pink bunny phone case.
-
“Where’s Jungkook?”
“Probably at her parents’ place, confessing his love,” Kim Taehyung snickered, picking up the beer bottles left behind next to the pool.
“Hah, of course he would leave without cleaning up,” Park Jimin grumbled, pushing the recycling bin along as Taehyung tossed each bottle inside.
“You think he’s gonna tell her?”
“He didn’t even tell me,” Jimin muttered, shoving used napkins into the bag hanging off the side of the recycling bin that he was going to toss into the trash later. “I had to find out from you. I think he’s hopeless. Why does he like her anyway? She’s fun to be around, yeah, she’s good at school, yeah, knows a lot of random facts, yeah, if you get into philosophy with her like Namjoon-hyung does, you begin to question humanity and reality, yeah, but other than that…”
“You hitting on your best friend, dude?”
“I mean, she’s kinda hot, she wouldn’t say no to me.”
Taehyung snorted.
Jimin smacked him in the ass with the recycling bin.
“Anyway, he’s probably just standing in her bedroom creepily watching her sleeping.”
-
Jungkook stared down at her sleeping form.
He looked up, looking out the window into the late, late night. He was tired, and yet he couldn’t sleep, too busy wondering.
I don’t deserve her if I’m not brave enough to say it.
“Jungkook?”
-
You squinted at the large form in your bedroom.
“Why are you just staring moodily out the window?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Is something wrong? Are you hungry? I can make you a snack…”
“Noona, do you know what the worst feeling in the world is?” he asked softly, still looking out into the warm night.
You grunted and scrunched up your face. “Stepping on a Lego?”
You heard Jungkook laugh and you smiled a little despite your groggy state, hearing a little bit of his old self, the younger Jungkook hanging out with you, Jimin, and, later, Taehyung, the four of you getting up to no good. Somehow, in the past few years, he had gotten quieter and quieter, at least around you, but then again you only came home to visit for a day or two before going back to university.
“Have you ever been in love, noona?”
“Yeah, with the red bean popsicles they used to sell at the ice cream trucks, but then they stopped, those assholes, I’ve never been so heartbroken in my life,” you grumbled, remembering the day where the ice cream man told you they were sold out and your young teenage heart shattering.
“I love you, you know.”
Was this a fever dream? Why did he keep repeating himself? You looked over to his back, still looking outside onto the street, the street where you all used to run and laugh every summer, pretending you were surviving in the wild and not in the middle of a suburban neighborhood, sitting around sipping lemonade and complaining about the heat even though you all could have gone inside, lighting sparklers at night and seeing whose would last the longest even though such a thing was only based on chance anyway.
“Is that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?” he added quietly.
“The worst thing I’ve ever heard was accidentally hearing Jimin jacking off. Twice.”
Jungkook finally turned around, giving you a disgusted look. “What?”
You placed a hand on your face and sighed heavily, trying not to remember. “For some reason he thinks the bathroom isn’t echoey or something, like, at least do it in the shower, so the water masks the sound…” You chuckled, shaking your head. “Anyway, I would much rather hear you say you have love for me than listening to Jimin getting off.”
“I don’t have love for you.”
You raised your hand from your face and shifted your gaze to him, half-smile lingering on your lips from remembering Jimin’s carelessness. You made eye contact the second the words left his mouth, those brown eyes shrouded in shadows, but still so clear, a little helpless, a little sad.
“I’m in love with you,” Jungkook whispered softly.
Your eyes widened.
A soft breeze swept through the window, lifting the purple-gray strands from Jungkook’s face, revealing his lost, desolate expression.
The cicadas hummed.
A car alarm honked loudly, screeching through the night.
Both you and Jungkook jerked to face the window. You bolted out of bed and you both threw your hands onto the edge of the window, yanking it shut, wincing at the loud noise.
“Ah, jeez… what the hell…?” you groaned, slumping to the ground.
“What’s with people…?” Jungkook muttered, falling to the floor beside you, yanking the towel off his shoulders.
-
“Fuck, I pressed the wrong button!”
“Taehyung, what the hell, turn it off!”
“I was just trying to put the tangerines your parents gave me in my car!”
“I don’t care what you were doing, turn it off!”
-
“Anyway, sorry, you were saying something important and you got interrupted by some dumbass,” you sighed, nudging Jungkook with your shoulder.
“Uh… well, that was it…”
You blinked at him, tilting your head. “What, that you’re in love with me?”
“Y… Yeah?”
You blinked some more.
“Not the, want to go to the arcade and see who can get the highest score in PAC-MAN or go watch shitty action movies and rate the unrealistic plot lines or dare each other to eat whatever expired delicacy is in Taehyung’s fridge, kind of love?”
Jungkook made a repulsed face. “I regret eating that tofu. Don’t think I can ever look at uncooked tofu without gagging a little now…”
You leaned over and caught his eye.
“Do you mean the… want to date and get married and make babies, kind of love?”
His lips parted and the moonlight lit the small mole placed perfectly underneath his lower lip.
A delicate kiss from the moon itself.
Then you realized he was staring at your tits.
You yanked the neckline up a little and Jungkook started, looking back up at you with wide eyes.
“Sorry, I’m just not used to you in a dress, sorry, I’m being really rude–”
“It assures me that you’re at least interested in the making babies part,” you chuckled.
His ears turned red and he reached up to cover them, trying not to look down. “S… Sorry…”
“So…?”
He chewed on his lip, messing with his earrings with his fingertips. “Um… yeah, that kind of love. The latter kind.”
You lowered your hand. “You’re not messing with me, right? I swear, if this is one of Taehyung’s elaborate ideas to mess with me, I’m going to ki–”
Jungkook shook his head quickly, purple hair flying about. “I’m not joking around. I wanted to tell you for a long, long time, but…” His eyes darted about, panicking a little, before looking back to you helplessly. “You’re Jimin’s best friend, besides Taehyung, and what if… what if you thought I was gross or something and then I don’t think I could hang out with you guys anymore, but then you went to that prestigious university far away and I thought, I’m so stupid, I should have said something, anything, but every time I could even think about it, I didn’t know what to say, nothing seemed right…”
He let out a big sigh and tapped his head against the windowsill, closing his eyes.
“Also, I said it before and threw up in your lap right after, so that kinda fucked me up.”
“Can’t say I was really feeling the romance, yeah.”
He groaned and covered his face with his hands.
“I’d date you though. For real.”
Jungkook removed his hands and blinked at you. “What?”
You chuckled. “Why are you acting so surprised? I’m not going to date Jimin, blergh, I’ve known that guy since I was in preschool. I’m not dating Taehyung, I’m pretty sure he’s on a different brainwave than other human beings.”
You smiled at him and turned around to pick up your phone, holding it up.
“I don’t like girly things or cute things very much, but I kept your gift because it was from you and, funnily enough, I think it made me realize that I was rejecting femininity because society puts such a negative connotation on things young women like and because my friends growing up were primarily male, thus I wanted to seem cool or relatable so I rejected stereotypically feminine concepts…”
“… What?”
Now it was a confused what.
“Uh, never mind,” you laughed awkwardly, putting your phone back on your nightstand. “Anyway, Jungkook, you made me realize things about myself, and I love being around you, but I thought a handsome guy like you would want to date a pretty girl, and I’m not really that.”
Jungkook furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? You’re the prettiest girl in the world. No one could ever be prettier than you.”
You felt your neck heat. “Yo, don’t inflate my ego when it’s not the truth,” you chuckled sheepishly, waving a hand. “You’ve been drinking anyway. Alcohol makes everyone prettier.”
“It’s the truth.”
Was he drunk or were you drunk? Why was Jeon Jungkook getting closer?
“Would you really date me?”
You stared into those chocolate eyes and smiled.
“Yes, I would.”
And you leaned forward and kissed him.
His eyes widened, staring at you and you closed your eyes, pressing your lips to his, inhaling his scent, memories of hot summers and mirthful laughter filling your head, standing beside Jungkook and kicking Jimin and Taehyung’s ass at table tennis even though Jungkook was doing most of the work, finishing a movie together after Jimin and Taehyung had passed out on the couch on top of each other and talking excitedly about it until you both fall asleep, getting lamb skewers after Jimin and Taehyung went off to eat ramen in a huff, unable to agree on the same meal as a foursome, but it was fine, no, better than fine, perfect even.
Because you were with Jungkook.
You broke the kiss and opened your eyes, smiling at him.
He blinked slowly, looking down at you.
“Noona…”
His hand raised, fingers spreading out longingly. You quickly reached up and pushed it back down.
“Jungkook, I swear, I do want to touch you in a less than holy way, but maybe not when you’re wearing my dad’s clothes, including his underwear, because that’s really fucking weird.”
Jungkook looked down at the brown t-shirt and beige shorts. “Oh. Yeah. Right.”
“You know, come to think of it, I feel like Taehyung has slowly stolen Jimin from me over the years, so maybe this was fated…” you mumbled, remembering at the moments you had shared with Jungkook were because your other two friends had abandoned you.
“I feel you, sometimes I feel like a third wheel…”
-
“I’m so sleepy.”
“I’ll tuck you in first, but I’m going to get us some water so we don’t die tomorrow morning.”
“Ugh, Jimin, bring another pillow please.”
“Hah, fine, but you’re buying breakfast tomorrow…”
--
masterpost
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cherrybracelets · 3 years
Text
I’ll Take You On
bucky barnes x f. reader
18+ / drinking mentions, heavy smut (unprotected s*x, oral s*x (m receiving) )
inspired by: ill take you on by brockhampton 
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For your whole childhood, as long as you could remember, you wanted to be a veterinarian. You had loved animals, and couldn’t imagine a better way to spend your days than caring for them. But, as you grew up and the harsh realities of adulthood and capitalism dawned upon you, your dream was becoming less likely. 
Vet school was way over you and your mom’s budget. It was just the two of you, and she wasn’t exactly bringing in buckets of cash at her teaching job. So, you had to get a bit more realistic. 
After graduation college with a business degree, you set forth into the world hoping for a lifetime of amazing opportunities. But, a job didn’t come as easy as you’d hoped, and you were getting desperate. So desperate, in fact, that you called your estranged father begging for a job. 
Your father left your mom when you were nine. You didn’t care much, as he wasn’t around a lot anyways. He was some big shot lawyer in Miami, and he was always traveling for work. It was honestly easier on you and your mom once he left. He didn’t make much an effort to connect with you after that, only calling every few months and sending wads of cash on Holidays, hoping to make up for his absence. 
So, as you pushed aside your pride to call and ask for his help, it was really the least he could do. And lucky for you, his firm’s office manager had just quit. It didn’t sound like an incredibly difficult job and the pay was beyond what you wanted. Your father was most likely overcompensating with the salary. But he could afford it. 
He also promised you a place to live, rent free. He owned multiple properties around the city, most of which he never used. It was kind of the perfect situation. A little suspiciously perfect. 
But there were no other options. You needed a job and he desperately needed to feel like he wasn’t the worst father in the world. It was a win-win for both of you. 
And obviously, Miami wasn’t the worst place you could be. You didn’t know anyone besides your father, but you didn’t care. The idea of relaxing on a beach alone soothed you way more than a group of screaming drunk girls. 
After a week of settling into your apartment and the city, it was finally time to start your new job. You had met up with your father multiple times already, getting prepared for the job and visiting a few of his favorite spots around the city. He was actually really kind, but it was slightly uncomfortable talking to him.
You walked into his office on your first day, shaking in nerves as you prepared to meet your new coworkers. Would they treat you kindly, or did they catch up on the obvious nepotism that was lingering through this entire situation? 
But your fears were quickly buried over as his staff welcomed you with open arms, talking highly of you and about how “proud” your father was to have you working here. You rolled your eyes at his obvious attempt to show a warmer side to his staff, but you let it slide. You had a job and place to live because of him, so it was the least you could do. 
You spent the morning learning the phone and computer system, battling intrusive questions from everyone in the office and trying to learn how to work the damn coffee machine. But all in all, it wasn’t a bad job. 
You never really knew what kind of law your father practiced, and maybe that was something you should’ve asked before, so you were a little less shocked. His clients were mega rich and famous. And your father was just mega rich. It kind of pissed you off, seeing how well he lived and how you and your mom never saw a penny of it. Part of you wanted to scream at him, break all the expensive glasses in his office and storm out. But what was the point? Caring about him was more energy than it was worth. 
Your father met with his clients throughout the day, and part of your job was welcoming them to the office, getting them something to drink, and telling your father when they arrive. And today, at 2:12 PM, twelve minutes late for his appointment, he walked in. 
“James Barnes. I’m here to see Henry,” he commanded, not bothering to look up from his cell phone and pay you an ounce of attention. 
“Of course. Can I get you anything to drink?” You asked kindly, trying to keep your voice from quivering. He stood towering over you, his large frame blocking the light above, casting a shadow over your desk. He was one of the most beautiful and intimidating people you’d ever seen. You felt like you were going to choke if he looked directly at you. 
But he didn’t. He walked cooly over to the sofa in the waiting area and sat down, mumbling “Scotch…”. 
You stood up and walked away quickly, desperately trying to catch your breath. You slipped quietly into your father's office, smiling as you closed the door behind you. 
“James Barnes is here. And he mentioned something about scotch, which I’m not sure if I’m authorized to give…” 
Your father chuckled and stood up, walking over to a small bar cart in his office and pouring two drinks. 
“Everyone calls him Bucky. He’s a good friend. Come on, i’ll introduce you.” 
You followed behind your father in a daze, not ready to face him, not ready for his eyes to meet yours. Your skin felt hot and the room was spinning as your head, his loud voice greeting your father in excitement. 
“Bucky! It’s been too long!” Your father yelled, handing him a drink and smiling sheepishly. 
“Yeah, I had to be in New York a bit longer than I thought,” he trailed off, taking a sip of his drink. You were hiding behind your father, hoping he would forget about you and you could sneak away without a word. But of course you wouldn’t get away that easily. 
“Bucky, I have to introduce you to my daughter. Today is her first day working here! (Y/N), come introduce yourself,” he instructed, turning towards you and ushering you in closer to Bucky. 
“(Y/N)...” he whispered, the sound of your name in his mouth making your whole body light up. You had never heard it sound so beautiful before. He reached his hand out towards you, and you grabbed it lightly. His hands were soft and cold, shocking your skin as he touched you. As you shook hands, he leaned towards you, the smell of mint and tobacco pouring from his skin. 
“Why don’t we head to your office, Henry,” he frowned, dropping your hand and turning towards your father. You brought your hand back to your side, confused and dizzy as you found your seat. 
“Can… can I get you anything, Henry?” You stuttered, realizing awkwardly that this was the first time you’d addressed him, and you didn’t say dad. There was an uncomfortable silence between the two of you, and you cleared your throat awkwardly. 
“Sorry, thought that would be more professional. Totally awkward, right?” You laughed, trying to ease the tension. You didn’t think your father would care if you called him Henry, but maybe he wanted you to play into the sweet daughter character at work. 
“No, sweetheart, this is actually a private meeting. I don’t want any interruptions, unless someone’s dead. Okay?” He said in a serious tone, pushing aside any awkwardness. He hadn’t said this with any other clients he’s seen today, so it gave you an uncomfortable feeling in your stomach. 
You turned towards Bucky, looking for some sign of a joke with him. But his face was carved of stone, his eyes locked on your father as if he expected Henry’s devout secrecy for any conversation they had. 
The two walked quietly into his office and shut the door, leaving the image of him to only exist in your mind. You were curious who exactly this beautiful  mystery was, so you did what you always did. Googled him. 
You searched for a while, under both of the names he went by. But nothing. You couldn’t find him anywhere. Nothing on Facebook, Linkedin was empty, Twitter and Instagram were farfetched. It was like he didn’t exist. You even unblocked your father on facebook to stalk his friends and see if he existed there, but nothing. He was a ghost. 
You got frustrated after a while, sitting back angrily in your chair, realizing you had three voicemails. Yikes, you were not very good at this job. 
You finished all your work quickly, hoping it would distract you from him.
 They spent the next two hours locked away in your fathers office, leaving you to wilt away in boredom. It only took about 30 minutes to catch up on calls and emails, and then all you could do was scroll aimlessly on your phone hoping someone would bother you. 
But everyone seemed very quiet here. Beyond the initial excitement of meeting you in the morning, everyone stayed at their desks all day, focused intently on their own work. It was one of the quietest offices you’d ever been in. Maybe they were just trying to show off on your first day, or trying not to bother you… but it was odd. 
At 4:15, your father loudly exited his office, Bucky following behind. He was smiling, something you hadn’t seen before. It was almost god-like, his perfect smile, radiating warmth and happiness. You wanted to be close to him again, missing the sweet smell of his lips…
“(Y/N), I have a request…” your father interrupted your daydreaming, making you jump as you stood up to help him. 
“What’s up?” You asked casually, refusing to take your eyes off Bucky. 
“Bucky and I are grabbing dinner tonight, and we’d love for you to join us,” he said quickly, Bucky finally turning towards you and meeting your glance. 
“You… want me to come?” You asked quietly, Bucky still staring at you. He smirked slightly as you spoke, but refused to break your gaze. 
“Well, Bucky would really love to get to know my daughter. You know how… proud I am of you. The light of my life!” He said, smiling intensely at you. You finally looked away from Bucky and towards your father as he spoke. 
It was disgusting, the way your father was obviously using a fake relationship with you to get in good with his clients and employees. But you would’ve done anything to see Bucky again. So you agreed reluctantly, wondering why a man like Bucky would care about his lawyer's daughter… 
“We’re going to a nice place so… dress up,” your father instructed, eyeing your clothes. You had noticed you were the least dressed up at the office. 
“Um… I don’t really have a nice dress…” you whispered quietly, wondering how “nice” you needed to dress…
Your father pulled out his wallet, handing you a thick black AmEx card. 
“I’ll have my driver take you downtown to some shops. Get whatever you want,” he instructed, pushing the card in your hand. 
You didn’t refuse, why would you? Free shopping spree and dinner with some hot mystery man sounded like your perfect day. 
You spent the next few hours in and out of shops, spending more money than your father most likely anticipated. But you needed a new wardrobe anyways, most of your old clothes were too warm to wear here. 
You picked out a gorgeous light blue silk dress and some strappy white heels to match. You were maybe a little ‘under’ dressed for dinner with your father, but all you could focus on was Bucky. You felt high whenever he crossed your mind, your body unable to focus on anything except the feel of his cool skin touching yours.
By the time you were done shopping, it was almost time to meet them at dinner. The driver promised to bring the rest of your bags home and drop you right off at the restaurant. It was all the way across town, and you’d most likely still be late even if you left now. So you hopped in the car quickly, your new outfit looking perfect. 
The drive to the restaurant took just as long as the driver said it would- maybe even longer. You were getting impatient as the time went by, wondering if he was thinking about you the way you were thinking of him. 
It was unlikely. You still weren’t sure who exactly he was, but you knew he didn’t spend his time with ordinary girls. 
But why did he want you to come to dinner? It was odd of him to take such an interest in you. None of your fathers other clients seemed to look twice in your direction. But then again, Bucky was the only one that required privacy. 
As you got lost in your thoughts, your mind tumbling through expectations and excitement, your driver pulled swiftly up to the front entrance of Paterro’s. 
Upon walking through the doors, you were taken aback by the overwhelming fanciness of this restaurant. Your father definitely undersold how nice it was. You felt slightly underdressed, but no one seemed to look twice at you. You were used to not turning heads, being able to walk through a crowd without notice. 
That changed when you got to your table. Your father wasn’t there, most likely in the bathroom or at the bar. It was just him, looking just as beautiful as you pictured he would. 
He wore a navy blue suit that hugged his skin tightly and left very little of his body up for imagination. As you walked towards him, his head lifted from the table and his eyes lingered towards your body. He gave you a soft smile, but he was obviously distracted by how much of you he was seeing. 
“Your… Henry ran to grab a few cigars for later…” he mumbled, standing up awkwardly and pulling out a chair for you. 
“Thank you…” you whispered, sitting shakily down in the chair as he pushed you in towards the table. 
You were in between Bucky and your father’s seat, but much closer to Bucky. Your father came back less than 30 seconds later, which was ideal, since you couldn’t think of a single word to say to Bucky. 
Your father greeted you kindly, a wide smile that read as ‘You better be good tonight.’ It clearly wasn’t normal for him to have guests attend his business dinners. He seemed just as put off as you did, but the two of you kept your thoughts to yourselves and made small talk. 
“This is one of my favorite restaurants, (Y/N),” your father smiled, handing you a menu to you. 
“I’m excited to be here. Thank you for having me,” you responded kindly. 
Bucky and your father started talking about business, leaving you to your own thoughts as you scoured the menu. The prices were insane, but obviously you weren’t footing the bill. You had half a mind to order the most expensive thing on the menu, for the hell of it, but you settled on a nice glass of red wine and pasta. 
You weren’t included in much of the conversation, wondering why exactly you were invited in the first place. It seemed that the two of them barely even knew you were there. You sipped at your wine angrily, wondering how you could get Bucky’s attention. 
It was then when you decided to make one of the riskiest decisions of your entire life. But, high risk, high reward, right? 
Bucky cracked a joke with your father, and you laughed loudly and girlishly, forcing him to draw his eyes towards you. You then gently placed your hand on his knee, dragging your fingertips on his thigh lightly as you smiled at him. For a second, you forgot your father was even there, lost in the delight of finally having your hands on Bucky. 
But you quickly drew your hand back, afraid of how far you’d go if you didn’t stop. Luckily your father didn’t seem to notice, or care. But Bucky did. 
In fact, he was glaring at you. His fists were clenched on the table, his breath shaky and his stared. His face started to relax and he looked away, a slight smirk on his face as he grabbed his drink and gulped it. 
“I have to run and make a quick phone call,” Bucky said abruptly, not waiting for a response before leaving the table. 
You turned awkwardly to your father, not sure what to say to him at this moment. Thankful for you, he clearly felt the same, and buried himself in his phone. That was the nice thing about your father, he never forced you to talk. 
Bucky was back quicker than you’d expected, looking relieved as he sat down. 
“Sorry about that,” he smiled, clearing his throat. “Where were we?” 
The three of you started chatting again, a feat that only lasted about five minutes, before another interruption. Your father’s phone started ringing loudly, much to your embarrassment. 
“One sec,” he whispered, jumping out of his chair and answering in a rush. 
Your heart dropped as you realized you were alone with him for the first time. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him after you nearly groped him under the table. You felt a lump in your throat as you stared intently at your fathers empty chair. 
“Do you wanna talk about what the hell you’re doing?” Bucky growled at you, making you finally turn your head and face him head on. 
“I don’t know what you mean…” you whispered innocently. 
“Oh, shut the hell up. I’m not gonna fall for your sweet girl act. Your father might, but I see right through it…” He snickered, taking a large sip from his third drink of the evening. 
“I’m sorry if I’ve done something to upset you, James.” You could see him cringe at the sound of that name. You couldn’t help but to get under his skin. Something about him so angry made it hotter. 
“Listen, if you wanna fuck me, just say it. I’m not here for all these little games.” 
“You truly think every girl in the entire universe wants to have sex with you? Seems like somebody has a little ego problem,” you retorted, rolling your eyes and looking away. 
“Oh, baby,” he laughed, touching your cheek lightly with his thumb. “You’re telling me you wouldn’t get under this table and suck my cock if you could?” 
The thought of your mouth around him made you quiver, which was very evident to Bucky. He laughed coyly, before tightly gripping your chin. He brushed his thumb lightly over your lips, your body aching at his touch. 
He dropped his hand quickly as your father approached the table, looking distraught. 
“I’m so sorry guys... My client just called, major emergency. I’m gonna have to run… Bucky, can you make sure (Y/N) get’s home safe? I’m gonna have to take my car…” 
Bucky chuckled quietly and nodded at your father, enjoying the obvious win. 
“I’ll take good care of her, man.”
Your father thanked Bucky, throwing his credit card to you for dinner and running off in a hurry. You felt sick to your stomach, all the red wine dancing around in your body. You felt Bucky’s hand on your thigh, rubbing circles on your skin. 
“You ready to go?” He winked, tilting his head for an answer. You could only nod, unable to think of any words to say. 
Bucky tossed three one-hundred dollar bills down on the table, taking them from a large wad of cash hidden in his jacket. You felt dizzy at the sight of all the money, wondering where it could possibly be coming from. 
The valet pulled Bucky’s car around, which was obviously something beautiful and fancy and nauseatingly expensive. He opened the passenger door for you, helping you up into the seat. He leaned towards you after you were sitting, pulling your face to his. He kissed you intensely, not giving you a second to think, or breathe. You melted into him, allowing his body to do whatever he wanted. 
But he quickly broke away, closing the door and getting in the driver seat. He didn’t speak to you the rest of the ride, just casually glancing in your direction every few minutes. You wondered if you should tell him where you lived, or if he already knew. But you quickly realized you weren’t going home.
You pulled up to a large white house on the beach. The gates opened promptly as you arrived. They closed quickly behind you, making you finally realize the intensity of the situation. You were here now, locked inside, with a complete stranger. A very, very hot stranger. 
Bucky opened the door for you, clearly picking up your awe at the size of the house. 
“I’m just renting it. I don’t usually stay in one place too long…” he explained, a hint of sadness in his voice. 
“What exactly do you do?” You asked, instantly regretting it as you noticed the distaste in his voice. 
“You don’t need to know that, yet,” he snapped, emphasizing the word ‘yet’. What the hell did that mean? 
He ushered you through the front door, offering you a glass of wine as you entered. You accepted happily, staring at his wide wine collection that was much nicer than the box sitting in your fridge. 
You sat down on his couch, sinking into the soft cushions, realizing just then how tipsy you were. As he walked back towards you with your drinks, you felt a wave of excitement and spontaneity wash over you. Fuck wine, man. The worst and horniest decisions you ever made were because of wine. 
Bucky set your drinks done and you didn’t waste any time. You jumped up towards him, pushing your lips onto his and dragging your hands down his body. He didn’t fight you, unbuckling his pants quickly. He began kissing your neck, pulling down the straps of your dress. You hadn’t worn a bra, giving his lips easy access to your breasts. He sucked your nipples lightly, grazing his teeth. 
You pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly sculpted body that at this point, you had expected. You brought your hand down to his dick, already hard and poking out through his boxers. You pushed him off of you as you got down to your knees, removing his boxers and taking his length into your mouth. 
You flicked your tongue across his tip, making him shake under you. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself deeper into you, hitting the back of your throat. He moved in and out of your mouth, his hand holding your hair out of the way. 
Finally he pulled out of your mouth, beckoning you to stand up. You did as you were told, getting off your knees and following him to the catch. He sat down and dragged you onto his lap, feeling his cock under you. He kissed you for a while, but you never got bored. You could’ve kissed him forever. 
But you felt him twitching beneath you, begging to be inside. You positioned him to your opening and slid down gently, adjusting to his size. He moaned slightly, throwing his head back as he went in. 
“Don’t move for a second…” he commanded, sitting up and taking your face. He was inside of you, not moving, just holding you. 
“You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen,” he whispered, the scotch spilling from his breath. He didn’t give you time to respond before he grabbed your hips and began to rock you on him.
You let him move you for a few minutes before you started moving yourself. You felt the overwhelming rush of pleasure take over as you got close to cumming, speeding up your motions. 
“Shit…” you squealed, riding out your high as he kissed your neck. 
“Keep going… I wanna cum inside you…” He whispered into your ear, his lips tickling your jaw. 
You kept grinding your hips, moving faster as he got closer. He gripped onto your hips, digging his nails into your skin as you felt him twitch. You felt him fill you up with warmth, claiming you as his in that moment. The ultimate trophy of male dominance. 
You felt sick to your stomach after you got off, feeling him drip down your thighs as you rolled to the other side of the couch. The fun of the wine had worn off into an annoying headache, and you were dreadfully thirsty.
For some reason, you wondered if you had dreamed the whole thing, before you looked over and saw a naked Bucky, staring blissfully at you. 
“Can I get you anything?” He asked, kindly. 
“Water.” 
He smiled graciously, standing up and putting his boxers on. He walked down a hallway, presumably to the kitchen, and your fight or flight kicked in. You quickly grabbed your shoes and bag, bolting out the front door, unable to face him. 
You were greeted by the fresh air, happy to be back in the realm of normalcy. And then you remembered. The gate. 
“Fuck…” you exclaimed, dropping your shoes on the pavement. 
“I’ll take you home.” You heard, seeing an uncomfortable Bucky standing in the doorway. 
You got back in his car, staying uncomfortably silent as he started the engine and opened the gate. 
“Do you regret it?” He asked. His voice snapped through the quiet like a whip. It made you jump. 
“No. I don’t.” You answered. It was the truth. 
“Good. We’ll talk soon, then.” 
He dropped you off without another word, and you realized you never actually gave him your address. 
Who the hell was James Barnes? 
186 notes · View notes
thesmokingguns · 3 years
Text
Wedding Season
Tommy
-Welcome to the Wedding Date expert
-Getting ready together and he matches his bow tie to your dress
-“Can you help me?” Helping him tie his bow tie and he uses the moment where you’re so close that he can kiss you
-Well you’re finishing getting ready he makes sure the car is out front.
-“Wow, babe, you’re going to make the bride jealous”
-Double checking to make sure that you have the gift and adding more money to the card
- Hes so excited to go to this wedding together and have a good time celebrating people
-Hes going to talk about all his favorite parts of the ceremony and things that he enjoys or would want in the future
“I love love”
-He is a wedding guest expert. He seems to know all the wedding coordinators and people working the event
-“Hey Sherry, another beautiful event!”
-He brings you a glass of champagne during cocktail hour and wants to talk about the vows
-“I don’t want to get married in a church. Maybe a cool Japanese garden or on the beach. I’d write my vows too. None of that obey shit. What do you think, babe?”
-He tips the band at cocktail hour and drags you out, making you laugh as you dance
-Introduces you to all his friends
-“I can’t wait to see you in a white dress”
-He is slamming his silverware against the glass to have the couple kiss all night
-Tommy will wander off to talk to someone so he’s not by your side all night but he waves at you and sends smiles your way
-He comes up with a plan so you catch the bouquet and he gets the garter
-“Throw some elbows of you have to”
-He breaks a chair jumping off it to catch the garter and almost lands on some guys.
-He offers to pick you up and give you extra height so you catch the bouquet
-“THATS MY FUCKING GIRL!” he’s amped that you caught the bouquet
-He thinks he’s going to something so sexy putting the garter on you but as he gets a view at what would be your underwear he sees you’re not wearing any.
-“Babe!”
-Laughing because you knew exactly what was going to happen as he slides the garter on you in front of his family. He’s blushing and it’s both cute and hysterical how flustered he is
-Tommy putting his jacket over your shoulders as you head up to the hotel room after
-“We should get married this summer”
-You’ve been dating for two months and it’s March
Vince
-Imagine that you’ve just spent two hours getting yourself fully ready and you’re about to leave for a wedding and down the stairs comes your man child boyfriend fully dressed in a three piece tuxedo complete with a top hat alll in white
-“What do you think?”
-He does a spin, pulls the lapels of his jacket and is smiling proud of his outfit.
-Dragging him to his room to change into a new suit
-Pouty Princess in the passenger seat of the car as you drive to the wedding
-Trying to reassures him that when it’s his wedding he can wear a white suit
-“You’ll let me wear white to our wedding?”
-He’s so sincere when he says it’s so he is holding your hand you agree even though it’s been over four years and he hasn’t really showed any interest in settling down
-Vince will talk shit about everything that he doesn’t like
-He keeps referring to “our” wedding
-he takes full advantage of the open bar and he just is getting hammered
-“I think I want pink and white roses. Like a whole fucking garden of them.”
-Having to tell him to stop talking about a fake wedding at a real wedding
-Pouty Princess gets really mad and goes to pout at the bar
-He gets up on stage and starts singing because he hates the live band
-Coaxing him off stage promising that you’ll dance with him
-“I want to go home. This club sucks.”
-Just reminding him that you’re at a wedding for your close friends
-Vince goes outside and you spend twenty minutes looking for him. You follow the sound of someone puking and find him wiping his mouth
-“they gave me the cheap stuff, honey. it’s not my fault.”
-He won’t be dragged out of the garden easily and you’re fucking horrified when he gets down on one knee at a wedding
-“Honey, I love you so much. I’ve been trying all week to figure out the best place to do this-“
-he suddenly is patting his suit and realizes that he changed before they left
-“We need to go home.” He’s standing up and you want to die of embarrassment as he’s dragging you through the wedding where a few of these people just saw him on one knee
-Anxious leg bouncing in the car, window down because he might puke again
-He’s falling up the stairs when he gets home ripping apart his white suit.
-Running down the stairs he finds you and gets down on one knee again
-“I have the ring this time.”
-Hes kind of a huge idiot but you like that he has a plan. Also you’re worried because you’re going to marry bridezilla
Mick
-If it wasn’t one of his bandmates weddings he wouldn’t be going
-If he wasn’t in the wedding party there is no way that he would wear a suit
-When he is waiting with one of the bridesmaids he’s paired with hands him her flask
-“I’m trying to stay sober to keep everyone in check”
-She scoffs and he turns to see her chugging it down before giving him another chance go to take it., which he does downing the rest of it.
-Trying to make sure all the guys are doing the right thing and keep everyone alive
-Taking pictures he finds out that the mystery bridesmaid is the brides best friend from childhood
-“I’m going to the bar.”
-He decides he needs to just have sex with someone at the wedding as a reward for actually coming here
-Looking at the wedding guests and wondering if he’s going to be alone forever
-Thinking about what a waste weddings are and how they should have saved their money
-Knows that bride shouldn’t be in pure white
-The flowers make him sneeze
-The bridesmaid is at the end of the bar and he is suddenly handed a drink she has bought him. He watches as she cheers the airs downing the three fingers of white alcohol in one sip before walking away.
-“Oh no you fucking don’t.”
-He is trying to find this girl who keeps showing up with alcohol
-Mick keeps loosing his clothes. His jacket is lost, his vest is unbuttoned and the bow tie is untied
-“Fucking Women”
- he spots her headed into the elevator and frowns when it closes. When it reopens he sees red lipstick kisses around 7
-“If she put her mouth on that...”
-He’s slamming the lucky number 7 as fast as he can
-When the door open he sees a shoe and a few paces away another one.
-As he’s walking and sees her dress and her underwear is hanging on the doorknob
-“Women like this is why I’m never getting married”
-He opens the door and he’s glad he made it go the wedding
Nikki
-“Angel, you’re going to make us late!”
-He is indiffernt about going to weddings. One part of him likes socializing and seeing people and the other part of him hated leaving the house
-Checking his watch and getting ready to go through you over his shoulder so they could leave
-When he sees her coming down the stairs he doesn’t want to go to the wedding anymore and he lets her know
-Nikki kind of is a huge show off so we plans on pulling up in this Porsche
-He wants to spend the entire time with his lady
-Even as they sit through the vows he’s reaching out running his hand over your hands
-Leaning over to whisper, “This reminds us of our wedding.”
-kissing your knuckles
-Always touching you and seeming almost anxious whenever of you steps away
-Hand on your back when you’re talking to other people, holding your hands when you’re walking and just a weakling his arms around to kiss as much as possible
-“I’m so happy you’ll always be my wedding date, Angel.”
-Checking in throughout the night to make sure that you’re okay and having a good time
-“excuse me, I’m going to steal her for this song”
-Has requested your wedding song and is slow dancing telling you all the reasons that he loves you
-Nikki loves holding you when you dance even if he hates dancing
-Taking you out to cool down and walk along the beach together
-He throws down his jacket sitting on it and pulling you into his lap
-He had literally scoped out a place where you two could make out or go further
-“you looked so beautiful, Angel. I couldn’t wait until we got home”
-Going back to everyone at the party and he’s just giving you this look the whole time like he can’t get you out of his mind
-Nikki talks to the groom about what makes marriage so great
-“You wake up to the most beautiful view every morning no matter where in the world you are”
-Being at the wedding just reminds him how happy he is to be married
-Watching his wife dancing with the girls and smiling at how she always has fun
-When Nikki’s at the bar with the guys he sees you bent down talking to the flower girl and starts thinking of you as a mother
-Nikki knows it will be a few years away because he can’t share you yet
-Smiling when you slide into his lap, holding you to him and knowing you’re going to leave soon
-“I love you.”
-Wedding season is the best for this sentimental gummy bear
122 notes · View notes
nostalgiabones · 4 years
Text
The Story of Us // C.H
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It feels like SO LONG since I last posted any writing! Here is the second instalment of the Song Series for my last follow milestone (which I announced and then just didn’t write for 2 months😳). I had a moment at 2am where everything fell into place with this fic and I was screaming about it to @calumrose lmao. It’s taken a long time but I’m so happy with how this has turned out and I LOVE the concept of this song so much. I’d love to know what you think!
Song: The Story of Us — Taylor Swift
Word count: 5.1k
Tapping your fingernails on the counter, your eyes search around the busy kitchen for a familiar face – one to ease the anxiety of the first party you’ve attended for longer than you can remember. The kitchen gives you more space to breathe than the garden you fought your way through to get to the house, greeting smiles and quick ‘hellos’ to friends you haven’t seen for a while. There’s one friend in particular you’re expecting to see, yet a part of you doesn’t want to.
“Hey, you made it!”
The voice of a close friend fills your ears over the pounding of the bass from the speaker in the lounge, pumping the whole house (and possibly, the whole street) with music. You can tell Ashton has already taken over the playlist, old classic rock songs being the common theme so far. The counter is already sticky with alcohol. It was one of these parties where you first met Calum – in his true drunk state, he had spilt a drink over your shoes, and spent the remainder of the night trying to make it up to you. He apologised any chance he got, no matter how much you reassured him it was okay and insisted on giving you his number so he could ‘apologise again when he was sober.’ He had done, too, and that’s where it began.
Most Friday nights you’d get a text from him asking you to tag along to whoever’s party was going on, telling you that they weren’t the same without you there. “I need you there as my wingman,” he’d insist, although he had no intention of going home with anyone else. His turn to host rolled around, and that’s when things had changed – the night had ended with you crashing on his spare bed. Everyone else had left and he didn’t see you go, and it wasn’t until Duke had his attention that he had found you – curled up on the bed in his spare room. He thought about waking you up, but decided that he couldn’t bring himself to do it once his gaze fell upon your sleeping face. All he did was remove your shoes, to make you more comfortable, and tuck you in so you didn’t get cold. He had murmured a “good night,” pushing your hair away from your face with a kiss to your forehead.
The next morning, he had found you in his kitchen; Duke keeping you company, curled up in your lap as you wait for Calum to wake up. Waking up in his spare bedroom had been a surprise, yet you didn’t feel entirely uncomfortable. You could’ve left straight away, just leaving a note, but you didn’t. You stayed for breakfast, testing Calum’s cooking skills, and both of you (silently) felt as though you wish it could happen more often.
After that, the texts weren’t just invitations to parties.
They were invitations to get coffee, to take Duke on a hike, to listen to a song he was working on. Any reason he could think of to see you, he would take it, yet he wouldn’t admit to himself why he wanted to see you so often. Your friends knew it; at every party you’d arrive together, dance together, his fingertips would linger on your hips, always touching you somehow. It looked so easy, fun, and free from the outside.
You’re the lucky ones.
Four words both you and Calum had heard time and time again from your friends. They’d see the smiles that grace both yours and his lips at parties when you were together, losing yourselves in the music and each other. Friends would ask where you both stood; what you are, or what you were. Some had called it friends with benefits, most thought you were dating, but whenever you were asked, all you could reply was “I don’t know.” It seemed as though your friends never believed you, but it was the truth — Calum doesn’t like labels.
Calum would take you on unofficial dates; never labelled as such, but something as casual as going to dinner didn’t quite feel the same when he refused to let you pay and you ended up in his bed. Most nights you’d just stay up talking, watching the evening bleed into night as the sun sets and the moon rises. You’d talk about anything from his eclectic taste in music to what the purpose of life is, yet somehow, you never talked about your relationship. Anything but yourselves. The first time he kissed you, it almost felt accidental; his face was just that bit too close to yours for you to not kiss him, his chapped lips brushing yours for a brief moment. His eyes had quickly assessed the expression on your face, wondering whether you were thinking the same thing of what just happened. He had waited a moment before asking “Is it okay if I kiss you again?” and of course… you said yes. You felt something, so did he, but the feelings never translated to words; you never found out what was going on inside his head. And that was the problem.
“I brought you a drink!” You’re snapped out of your thoughts by her voice as she hands you the red cup, filled with whatever had been thrown together in the ice bucket at the other side of the kitchen. You had watched her do the rounds around the room, catching up with everyone else hanging around, and had finally made her way to you. “You know Calum is here, right? Why are you over here all by yourself?”
You hope she didn’t ask him the same question. It’s clear your facial expression gives more away than you intended, and you’re met with a furrowed brow before she continues.
“Did something happen?” She questions, an inquisitive expression on her face as she glances over your shoulder. It’s in that moment you realise he’s there, at the other side of the room, and suddenly it feels like the walls are closing in. She knows Calum well too, but they really are just friends — she can tell something is off with him, too. You allow your eyes to glance to where he’s stood, talking to someone you recognise but whose name you can’t recall. Calum’s eyebrows are furrowed, he looks deep in thought although he’s definitely not paying attention to the conversation that he’s stuck in. “Never mind, don’t answer that. New question, what happened?”
You sigh, taking a sip of the drink she handed you before trying to think of an answer. What did happen? Things have become distant. As much as you enjoy being around Calum, sometimes the uncertainty is too much. He’s a closed book; very difficult to talk to about how he feels, and it leads to you overthinking way too much. Sometimes you just want to sit him down and tell him everything; how even though your relationship is nothing serious, sometimes you wish it could be. You try not to get attached in case he doesn’t think anything of you in the way you wish, sometimes. It’s difficult when he treats you better than any man has before.
“I just haven’t seen him for a while,” You tell her, and it’s not a lie. You haven’t seen him. It doesn’t add up though, not to any of your friends — the two of you would be the life of the party normally. It doesn’t feel the same when you’re at opposite ends of the room.
“Then why aren’t you over there catching up?” She asks, and you know you can’t hide it anymore. She can see it in your eyes. It’s rare that you’re not joined at the hip in any social situation; your friends didn’t know too much about you and Calum in private, yet you know she won’t be the only one to notice the distance between the two of you. They don’t know about the ‘dates’ or about the times where you’ve called him crying after a bad day. They don’t know about the kisses, how he holds you in the dark of the night, or how you know more about him than anyone you’ve ever met. They don’t know about you and Calum.
You pause for a minute before answering her.
“Nothing happened between us,” You sigh, your nails anxiously tapping against the plastic cup in your hand. “That’s the problem.”
You watch as Calum laughs at a joke a friend has made. It’s not his true laugh though – where his eyes crinkle and his nose twitches, where he looks as though his cheeks could burst from how hard he’s smiling. That’s a laugh reserved for you, when you tell him a silly childhood story at 3:00am. There are many parts of Calum which only you get to see. You notice his hair has grown out compared to when you saw him last. The blonde is hardly there now, just specs throughout the ends of the dark curls. Your heart thuds in your chest as you look at him – he’s right there, yet he feels a million miles away, like there’s a wall in the middle of the room preventing you from getting any closer. It’s even further to reach his heart.
Calum is a closed book, but the pages you have read, you remember.
You know his feelings on a lot of things. You know he loves his family more than anything in the world, that he eventually wants to grow old in Australia near the beach, and that his purpose in this lifetime is to make music for people to fall in love with. He cares deeply about those around him, he shows his love through affection, he calls Duke his soulmate. He loves to cook for those close to him and has a list of recipes in his phone of meals he wants to make for his mum. He once spent a whole night telling you how his sister is one of his biggest inspirations. Playing shows and meeting those who support him makes him feel alive. You know a lot about Calum... except for how he feels about you.
“You should talk to him,” She suggests, a gentle touch on your arm to get your attention. It sounds like such a simple thing to do – just talk to him! Just tell him how you feel!However, Calum is so guarded, that the thought of the feeling not being reciprocated looms over you too much to think about doing it. You wouldn’t even know where to begin, months’ worth of emotions and frustrations to work through. It would only work if Calum were willing to talk to. And you’re not sure he is. “You’re not going to have fun until you do, and neither will he. It’s not like you to be so quiet.”
You cross your arms and bite the inside of your lip – two signs that Calum would recognise as anxiety if he looked in your direction.
“Calum doesn’t know how to talk about us.” You retort, a defeated tone to your voice before you even think about talking to him. Although, you have to admit, it wouldn’t be fair to blame to Calum alone. How could a situation be so simple yet so complex at the same time? No-one had ever made you feel as free as he does; so comfortable with the space to be yourself no matter what. He never judged you. Night by night he broke your walls down; learning more each time about your family, about what lead to you to Los Angeles, about your deepest ambitions. Although whenever you went longer than usual without seeing each other, it made you want to be guarded again, unable to shake the anxiety that comes along with sharing your deepest secrets with someone. All of it in turn had led to weeks, nearly a month of no communicating, and you’d be lying if you said there’s nothing you want more than to fall asleep in his arms once more.
“You should try.” She tells you once more, and you know she’s right. “Trust me.”
She excuses herself to go catch up with someone else, and your eyes can’t help but land on Calum at the other side of the room. He looks more comfortable now, but you notice Luke to his right, and realise that’s probably why. There are so many people around, yet you’ve never felt so alone, like an alien in the group. Calum made you feel everything but alone, especially at a party, he’d never leave your side. You never had the chance to feel lonely. Yet in this moment, it’s all you can think about. You wonder if he feels as alone as you do.
Your fingertips fall to the corner of your jacket, nervously fumbling with the material, needing something to ground you whilst trying to think of something other than Calum. You don’t get very long to do so before your phone offers a distraction; a text lighting up the screen, the contact name of ‘Cal’ making your stomach drop.
Meet me upstairs in 5? Spare room at the back.
You can’t help but sigh at the words, your eyes locked on the screen; too scared to look up in case he’s watching your reaction. It feels so impersonal. Why didn’t he just come and talk to you?
Downing the rest of your drink, you head to grab another one, knowing you’ll need it if you’re going to talk to him. What does he want to talk about? What are you meant to say? The questions are a constant dialogue in your mind, occupying the space, leaving room for little else. Glancing around the room, you note that Calum is no longer there, and that he must’ve gone upstairs to wait for you. It feels like you’re floating as you head up the stairs. Not in a happy way, more due to nerves – the adrenaline and anxiety flooding your veins as your fingers grasp the handrail leading to the upper floor of the house. There’s three bedrooms that you can see; one to each side, and one straight ahead at the back of the house. The door is ajar, and you just know Calum is sat on the bed waiting for you.
Your knuckles gently tap the wooden door and you hear Calum clear his throat; your heart races, and when you push the door open, it’s hard to look at him. Having him there, right in front of you, is almost too much to process and it suddenly feels like there’s no air in the room.
Calum’s eyes follow you as you join him at the end of the bed, not too close to him, yet close enough that he could reach out and touch you if he wanted to. No words are said – you stare at your boots, clearing your throat and waiting for Calum to speak first. You’re both too stubborn.
“Why are you so nervous?” Calum breaks the silence – his voice is deeper than you remember. It’s quiet, yet loud enough that you can hear him over the sound of the music and people talking and singing downstairs. His hands rest on either side of him, fingertips pressed into the duvet as he turns to look at you. It makes his heart ache a little that you’re avoiding his gaze, and he knows you’re uncomfortable. “It’s just me.”
Just him.
“You know you make me nervous,” You retort, a sarcastic yet innocent twinge to your voice as you reply. You know he knows that. It’s something the two of you joked about from the beginning – saying it’s the reason you never spoke to him before the shoe incident. He’s a mysterious person, intriguing; a tough person to get through to, especially when you don’t know him. “Especially when we haven’t talked in a while.”
He nods, a smirk on his lips, but there’s nothing about the situation he finds funny. He’s missed you a lot, and now you’re in the same room together, with no choice but to talk – he realises how much distance there is between you both. Silence has never been so loud before. He doesn’t know where to start, or how to tell you how much he’s missed you. He’s not one to be openly expressive with his emotions, he usually does it through gestures or shows of affection – yet he hasn’t had the chance to show that side of him with you.
“What have you been up to?” He asks, trying to make you feel less uneasy around him before he asks anything more cutting. That was one thing you always admired about Calum – his warmth, his ability to put people at ease by holding conversation. He’s a social butterfly, he loves getting to meet people when he’s out. He has his quiet moments at home when he has time to think. He shifts uncomfortably on the bed as he murmurs a quieter, “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
The last few words catch you off guard and now it’s your turn to look at him, his eyes cast towards the ground and his jaw clenched. His eyebrows are furrowed, and you know there’s a million thoughts swirling around his head. Is that Calum admitting some feelings towards you?
“I’ve just been working, really. I went home for a little while, like I told you about,” You reply, remembering back to the last night you spent with Calum, just after you booked your tickets home. Although what you don’t tell him is that most of the time, you couldn’t stop thinking about him being there with you. “How was Europe?”
You had plans to go home, Calum had the rest of his year planned out for him – he had been with the band in Europe and the UK for a little while, and you kept up with his travels on Instagram. Calum had been thinking about you too. He knows how badly you want to travel; that being one of the ambitions you had admitted to him, and he wants to fulfil it. With every cold hotel bed that he slept him, he wanted you to keep him warm. Exploring a city wasn’t quite the same on his own.
“It was different,” He answers, and you’re not sure what he means by that. You wait for him to expand on what ‘different’ entails, yet he doesn’t. Different means unsettled; it means that he didn’t get chance to say goodbye to you before he left, and it didn’t sit right with him. He saw you viewing his Instagram stories, he started to post them just to see if you’d keep watching. You did.
And the room is silent all over again. It is for several moments, until you speak up again.
“Why did you ask me to come up here?” You prod, wanting to cut the small talk. As nice as it is to catch up, there’s a weight on your chest – one that won’t be relieved until something gives with Calum. You don’t want to fight, but there’s things that need to be said. “I didn’t have you down as a ‘texting from the same room’ kinda guy. You could’ve just come and talked to me.”
Calum huffs a laugh, a hand lifting to run through the thick curls upon his head. A tell-tale sign of his own anxiety. He doesn’t say anything, though.
“Now who’s the nervous one?” You continue, raising your eyebrows, knowing you have the upper hand. “What, is the thought of talking about your feelings making you uncomfortable? What else is new?”
He sighs, sitting for a moment, thinking of what to respond. Now you’re more comfortable, he knows there’s no holding back. It’s not going to be an easy conversation.
“First of all, I couldn’t just come up and talk to you. There were too many eyes on us, my friends already noticed we weren’t talking. I know yours did too,” He tells you, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. He has so many walls up and trying to break them down is exhausting.
“I miss you holding me as tightly as you’re holding your pride right now,” You murmur, picking at your nails, avoiding his gaze as you speak the words. Now Calum is the one caught off guard. “I want to know how you’re feeling, Calum. I need to know whether this is killing you as much as it’s killing me.”
For a moment Calum thinks he hears your voice catching in his throat and it goes straight to his heart like a dagger, his head snapping up to look at you. He never wanted any of this to happen – he didn’t mean to hurt you. The lack of communication between you both is astounding to him, now that he thinks about it; the lack of boundaries – the line between friendship and more somewhat blurred. The whole thing seems blurry now, and he’s not sure how to provide the clarity he knows you’re looking for.
“I don’t know what to say.” He admits, truly at a loss for words. There’s so much to say, yet so little. Where does he begin? He hears your sharp intake of breath and he knows you’re frustrated – barely getting more than one sentence out of him at a time.
“Calum, I’m so tired of having to pretend like I don’t care about whatever this is. Right now, it feels like we’re competing to see who cares less. I want to know how you feel about me, about us.” It’s like something is awoken in you. If this is the last conversation you have with him, you want to know it all; whether the nights of sleeping next to him meant as much to him as they did to you. “No more holding back.”
Calum clicks his tongue before he nods, inhaling through his nose, placing one hand on the bed so he can put his weight on it to look right at you. “Alright.”
“Tell me,” Your tone is slightly softer now that he’s agreed. As frustrating as it can be at times, you know it’s not an easy thing for Calum. You know he cares. He just needs to show it. “I’m listening.”
“You want to know what I think about when I look at you?” Calum starts, looking right at you – you’re drawn in by his stare. It’s a lot. Taking a deep breath, you prepare for whatever he’s going to say, and nod in a gesture for him to continue. “I think about the night of my party when I found you on the spare bed. How, for some reason, you were comfortable enough to fall asleep at my house, when we weren’t even that close then. How when I tucked you into bed, you just looked so peaceful. You worry too much when you’re awake.”
You felt free around Calum, yet you didn’t at the same time. You could be yourself, he wanted to know everything about you – yet without the labels of a relationship, you held back from showing too much. There were times Calum wanted to kiss you, and when you wanted to kiss him, but you didn’t. Friends don’t just do that. The more he got to know you, the more he wanted to know, but the more he felt like holding back. He realises a lot of things could be solved if you had just talked a little earlier.
“And then I remember the morning after, when I woke up and Duke wasn’t in my bed, so I knew something was different. How I found you sat in my kitchen with him – that you didn’t leave before I woke up. It just felt so normal, I couldn’t shake it off all day, after you left...” He continues, like he’s letting his mind get away with him. He’s barely said anything, yet it’s the most you’ve heard about how he feels about you. “I didn’t want you to leave. I didn’t realise that until you had gone.”
Calum notices the little things. There are countless moments in his mind that he wishes he could live all over again – a lot of the firsts with you. He wishes he would’ve appreciated them more in the moment.
“And then I think about the first time we kissed. I didn’t think it was going to happen then, I don’t think either of us meant for it to. We have a lot of firsts... the first time I saw you cry, after that fight with your parents, when you called me before anyone else. I like that you rely on me, sometimes, it says a lot about how you feel.” He explains, and it’s so much to take in. “I guess I looked for your feelings in your actions, rather than just asking you. Things would probably be different now if we had just communicated with each other.”
You nod, and know it’s not just Calum to blame. Your communication was just as lack lustre as his. Calum read into your body language and actions a lot – he’d notice when you’d hug him tighter just for a moment longer, or when you’d bring him his usual coffee order, after stopping off to get one for yourself. Calum notices the little things, and they mean a lot.
“What about you?” He asks, and you should’ve expected it. “Tell me how you feel.”
Every moment that passes feels like a lifetime; you’re both taking the time to think.
“I liked it better when you were on my side,” You murmur with a small smile, allowing yourself to think of when things were how they used to be. Nothing has really felt the same since. You decide it’s time to lay everything out, to say everything you’ve wanted him to know for the past few months – at least then, if anything, you don’t leave with any regrets. Calum nods at the words, knowing he’d rather go back to the good times too. “I miss sleeping in your bed. I don’t feel like I’ve talked to anyone in so long. I didn’t realise how much we shared with each other until I didn’t speak to you for a while. Now that we’re here talking… it kinda feels like I can breathe again.”
As wonderful as things could be with Calum, it wasn’t always easy. As soon as you left his house, you’d be thinking the time you spent together over and over, questioning the little things; whether he meant to rest his hand on your thigh whilst you watched a movie, or whether he knows exactly how you like your drinks. It consumed you sometimes, leaving your head spinning and heart aching. It hurt him too, sometimes, when he’d drive you home with Duke in the backseat and wait until he saw you make it safely inside. Duke would jump up at the window, as if to wonder where you had gone, and he’d murmur a “I know how you feel, buddy.”
You’re both caught up in your thoughts, and Calum doesn’t have time to say anything else before you set the record straight.
“I don’t want to hold back anymore, Cal. Not if you want it too. I’m either all in, or all out. I don’t want to be stuck in the middle where I don’t know where I stand. I can’t do it again.” Your voice cracks as you speak, and Calum almost breaks on the spot; he doesn’t want to be the cause of your tears. Not ever. He scoots across the bed a little and reaches out; warm, calloused fingers gently picking your own hand up and fitting it in his own. His fingers link with yours and he gently squeezes, trying to get you to look at him.
“Please don’t cry, love,” He murmurs, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. He doesn’t know why you’re emotional, whether it’s because you’re still unsure of where he stands, the relief of talking everything through, or something else.
Commitment isn’t something that comes natural to Calum. He’s passionate about a lot of things; when he cares about something, he gives it his all, but his heart is guarded. It terrifies him to have to be vulnerable, but he knows that if he doesn’t let you in, he’ll regret it forever. In reality, he’s already let you in… He just has to admit to himself.
“I’m all in. You have my word, and my heart. No more going back and forth, okay? I want it all. You’ve got me.” He reassures you, his free hand resting on top of your joint ones, thumb stroking back and forth over the top of your palm. You nod and swallow the lump in your throat, relief coursing through your veins at the reassurance from his words. It feels like everything is lifted from your shoulders, like you can breathe once more.
“You have me, too. I want to be with you, I want you, but we have to learn how to talk to each other,” You tell him, knowing communication is going to be the crucial difference between before and now. It’s not going to work without. “I know it’s not easy, but we have to try.”
Calum moves closer and almost pulls you into his lap, one arm going around your shoulders to pull you close to him. You’re flooded with warmth and the familiar scent of a combination of his washing powder and his cologne, one that still lingers on your bedsheets months after he last slept there, one that you’ve missed. One that is just simply Calum. You bury your face against his neck and his free hand lands on your thigh, a comforting gesture; he just wants to be as close as possible.
His hand moves from your thigh and his fingertips gently take your chin, tilting your face so you’re looking right at him. His pointer finger traces your cheekbone, down your cheek, under your bottom lip as he breathes you in.
“No more holding back,” He murmurs, his chapped lips brushing yours, a feeling of relief crashing over the two of you and your mouths get acquainted once more. It’s been too long, Calum decides, as he pulls back for a moment and his lips are right back on yours again. It’s mere seconds before he’s slipping his tongue into your mouth and it’s a sensation you’ve missed; he tastes of alcohol as he kisses you and you commit the feeling to memory. The tips of your noses nudge together as the kiss goes on and you never want it to end; it’s the start of a new era, a new beginning to your relationship now that you can call it that. The kiss is urgent and desperate, and it says everything unspoken – there’s a long way to go, but it feels like a good start. “Can I take you home?”
“Please.”
Next chapter.
***
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lena-in-a-red-dress · 3 years
Note
Loved your tags on the Brenda Strong reblog! We need it as the new supercorp au!
Well, sOMEONE gave me an idea of OG!Lillian losing her memory and staying with Eliza for a while, and all day during work I was daydreaming of amnesia!Lillian slowly being told her life and being eager and excited to meet her daughter, only to find herself facing off against each member of the superfriends first as they try to suss out whether the memory loss is legit and/or whether she deserves to be in Lena’s presence. But finally she passes the final test (Kara) and when Lena still resists meeting her, Lillian overhears her trying to explain why it’s a bad idea. “None of you get it: she is a master manipulator. Lex didn’t exist in a vacuum-- he had to learn it from somewhere, and he learned it from our father and from her.”
But Kara ultimately talks her into it, and Lillian finally finds herself face to face with the woman who is her daughter. Her beautiful, beautiful daughter. Except her daughter doesn’t do anything except sit there-- no eye contact, no attempts at conversation. Lillian finally breaks the silence. “It’s so good to finally see you...”
She reaches over to take Lena’s hand, but Lena pulls away before she can make contact. Lillian instead lets her hand rest on the table between them. A peace offering. 
“I’ve heard a lot about you. About your work in National City.”
Lena doesn’t respond.
“They say you’re a such a force for good--”
“Just-- stop,” Lena says finally. “You might have fooled them, but I’m not.”
“What they’ve told you is true-- I don’t remember--”
“And even if that were true, I’ll let you in on a little secret.” Finally, Lena meets her eye, but her gaze is cold. Cruel. “You are not a good person.”
Lillian’s heart falls, and only now does she realize how bad an idea this had been.
“I spent half of my life trying to earn your love and the other half trying to get away from you. Don’t think for a moment that I’m going to let you weasel your way into my life after I’ve finally gotten you out of it.”
So... it doesn’t go well. Ostensibly, Lena and Kara are in Midvale to visit Eliza over the fourth of July weekend. Kara planned to spend the night in her childhood home, but Lena refuses. 
“I won’t be under the same roof as her--”
“I’ll leave,” Lillian says. 
Eliza looks at her in sympathy, but doesn’t protest. “Perhaps it would be for the best. We can put you up in the local bed and breakfast for the weekend, and then after...”
After. After doesn’t matter to Lillian. Not when her only free and living child wants nothing to do with her. She lets Eliza make the plans, and collects her meager belongings into a borrowed suitcase. In a bout of stubborn refusal to quit, when Eliza invites her to the community cookout and fireworks display, Lillian accepts. If only to be in the vicinity of Lena, to observe her daughter and feel a part of her in even so distant a way, if only for the opportunity to show Lena that she is different than whoever she might have been.
But when she arrives the following afternoon, she learns that Lena remained behind alone. “To watch the house,” Eliza says, though the excuse is clear to everyone who hears it. Lillian also notices that her daughter’s partner Kara is also missing. 
“Called back to work in National City,” is the official party line, but Lillian isn’t sure she believes it any more than she believes Lena’s excuse. She tries to enjoy herself, but her thoughts are blocks away, with the woman who refuses to be her daughter.
The evening deepens to night, and as the fireworks display commences, Lillian tries to lose herself in the explosions that rock the very air. Soon though, the feeling of wrongness that’s been following Lillian all night catches up to her with a foggy sky and the scent of not sulphur, but woodsmoke.
“Fire!” a voice cries. “Fire! Fire!”
All heads snap towards the distant voice, and widen when they spot the glow of a building fire in the direction of Eliza’s cul-de-sac. The crowd on the beach move as one towards the scene, Lillian at the lead. Heart pounding against her ribs, she hears the wail of sirens approaching: too distant, too slow.
“Lena!” she screams as the burning house comes into view. “Lena!”
Lena isn’t on the street-- she isn’t anywhere to be seen. Realization hits like a bolt of lightning, and someone tries to hook an arm around her as she makes for the front door. Lillian wrenches herself free. “My daughter is in there!” 
 They aren’t strong enough or quick enough to stop her before she barrels through the front door. Lillian’s brain works rapidly to piece together that if the fire started on the ground floor, then the only reason Lena wouldn’t have made it out is if she were asleep on the top floor, where she would likely be unconscious from smoke inhalation. She thunders up the stairs, coughing as the smoke grows dense. Staying low, she sweeps through each room until she finds Lena in the attic room, unconscious on Kara’s bed. 
Lillian gathers her daughter up as best she can and drags her back downstairs, through the front door and out onto the grass of the front lawn, coughing all the way. Eliza and her daughter Alex look at her as though they’ve seen a ghost, but all Lillian can think of is that her daughter isn’t coughing.
“She isn’t breathing!” she cries, desperately. Tears spill down her cheeks, and not just from the smoke. Without hesitating, she lays Lena flat and begins to administer rescue breathing. Counting and breathing and crying, her world narrows to her task alone, until the hands of paramedics crowd her vision, moving her aside even as they reach for Lena.
“It’s all right ma’am,” one says gently. “We’ve got her from here.”
Lillian follows them to the hospital, and waits as her daughter is treated for smoke inhalation. Soon, she’s informed that Lena is comatose, and on a respirator. 
“I’d like to sit with her, please.”
No one thinks to tell her no. And so Lillian waits, for hours, over a day for her daughter to wake. Doctors come in and apprise her of Lena’s condition, but nothing prepares her for the fear that creeps into Lena’s eyes when they finally open, and she realizes there’s a tube down her throat. Nothing prepares Lillian for the way that fear amplifies the moment Lena lays eyes on her.
“Sweetheart, please,” she begs, “it’s okay, you’re okay. Please, calm down--”
But when Lillian reaches for her daughter’s hand Lena recoils again, and begins to thrash against the restraints that have kept her from pulling out her tube. Choked, muttering sobs emerge around the tube, and sickening gurgles chill Lillian to the core even as a new body inserts itself between them.
“Lena!” Kara says, taking Lena’s face between her hands. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe. I promise you’re safe. Please, calm down... come on, breathe with me. In... out... don’t fight the tube, Lena, okay? Breathe with it... in... out...”
Slowly the monitors cease their shrill screaming, and only then does Lillian realize that doctors have converged as well, only to hold back until Lena was calm again.
“It’s okay, Lena. She’s leaving. She’s leaving...”
And Lillian does. She leaves the room, and doesn’t look back.
---
She can’t leave the hospital. Lillian makes it as far as the emergency room doors before the pull of Lena draws her back. This time, she sits with the others, waiting with bated breath for Kara to come back with news. 
When she does, Kara sits next Lillian directly. 
“They’ve extubated her,” the girl says softly. Woman, really. Kara is young, comparatively, yet old beyond her years with a weight Lillian can’t quite place. She offers Lillian a tired smile. “She’ll be okay.”
“She was afraid of me.”
Kara nods, not bothering to deny the truth. “She thought.... well, it doesn’t matter what she thought.” She runs a hand across her eyes. “You saved her life.”
“She’s my daughter.” The words come soft, almost plaintive, as though Lillian herself can’t quite believe them. 
“Thank you,” is all Kara returns.
---
Lena’s released a few days later. Kara takes her home to National City, and Lillian believes it to be the end of anything she might have had with her daughter. She tries to banish it from her mind, and focuses instead on Eliza, who now has the unfortunate burden of having had her home burn to the ground. They, at least, are friends, and Eliza seems to appreciate her support, however meager it is. 
Two days later, Lillian gets a call she isn’t expecting. 
“She wants to see you,” Kara says.
Lillian leaves Midvale that very minute with Eliza’s blessing. She makes the drive in record time, and soon finds herself in an apartment that’s both lavish and cozy, full of a warm life she thus far hasn’t been privy to. 
In the bedroom, Lena sits propped up with pillows, a box of tissues on one side and a waste bin on the other. “Sorry for the mess,” Lena croaks, cracking open one eye as the door creaks shut behind Lillian. “What I’m coughing up hasn’t exactly been pretty.”
Lillian sits on the furthest end of the bed. She itches to reach for Lena, to care and to mother her, but folds her hands in her lap instead in deference to the undercurrent of wariness that still runs through her daughter’s voice. 
“You saved my life,” is all Lena says after a moment. “Usually you don’t do that unless you have an ulterior motive. Like murder.”
Lillian flinches, but then freezes when she catches the slight hint of a smile playing at Lena’s lips. 
“Joking,” comes the rasping assurance. “Old-you would’ve gotten it.”
Instead of jumping in on the joke, Lillian finds herself fighting tears. “I really haven’t been much of a mother to you, have I?”
“No, you haven’t.” But this time it comes without malice, without judgement. 
Lillian wipes her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Lena. I wish-- I wish I had been better to you. You-- you deserve--- every happiness.”
“I do,” Lena agrees again. “But the good news is, I finally have people who let me believe that.”
“Good,” Lillian says breathlessly. “That’s... good.”
A long moment of silence passes between them. 
“I believe you,” Lena admits finally. Her shoulders lift in a shrug. “I don’t know what that means for anything between us, but--- I believe that you’re not... yourself.”
Lillian nods carefully. “It’s hard to hear the things I did. It feels like some other person entirely. I know it’s not,” she says quickly, “not really. But... I want to be better than her. Than who I was.”
Lena looks at her carefully. This time, Lillian looks back, holding her daughter’s gaze. 
“Will you help me?”
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