#in the club sobbing quietly about a fake couple

[thirstyvampyr]

Ian & Mickey being cute as shit 2/?

[softlystarstruck]

a kiss on the point of a blade

so this was meant to be for the @drarrymicrofic prompt “dangerous” but I got a bit carried away with the word count (oops) but i’m still posting it because proud of it!

tw: panic attacks, off-screen violence

Harry Potter testifies for Draco in front of the entire Wizengamot. They declare him guilty. 

Life sentence, Draco hears, the whispers rippling across the chamber heavy with awe and relief. He chokes on his own breath. The Aurors dig their fingers into his arm as they return him to his cell and he goes quietly, because what else is he meant to do?

His mother’s trial is directly after his. She never even took the Mark, but hope is a luxury now, so he forces his mind blank until the lock of his cell clicks open. “Wha-” he starts, but a hand covers his mouth and he feels the familiar tug that accompanies Apparition. 

“Who– get off me– how did you break through those anti-Apparition wards?” Draco chokes out as soon as they land on unfamiliar tile. He yanks his arm away from the person’s grasp and stumbles, catching his hip painfully on a solid wood table. He finds himself staring into familiar green eyes for only a split second before Potter’s in motion, whipping open cabinets. Draco realizes they’re in a kitchen, Potter’s, presumably, by the way he’s rummaging through it. “Potter? What the hell are you doing?”

“You’re not going back to Azkaban.” Potter yanks a large knapsack out of a lower cabinet and doesn’t look at Draco. 

“Potter, you can’t do this, you have to take me back,” Draco says, and he wants it to sound sharp and authoritative except he can’t breathe all of the sudden and he’s frantic. “You can’t- if you do this you’ll be aiding a convicted criminal, they won’t stop looking for us, I can’t have you on my conscience too, please, you have to take me back.”

Potter snaps his eyes up to Draco’s face, green eyes fierce with something Draco can’t name. “I know exactly what I’m doing.” 

“Potter, I can’t...” Draco hits the floor, bruising his knees and the heel of his hands, trying to drag air into his panicking lungs as the room tilts. Suddenly Potter’s there, lifting Draco into his arms as though he weighs nothing. 

“Come on,” he says, so much gentler than expected, and the familiar darkness of Apparition swirls in yet again. 

They land in a dingy hotel room, and as he stands unsteadily on his feet Draco vaguely wonders how Potter knows about this place. But then– “Your mother,” Potter says, and Draco stares uncomprehending at the sorrowful twist of his mouth. “They gave her the same verdict.”

“No.” Draco sinks down towards the filthy carpet. “She didn’t even– she wasn’t– she can’t survive Azkaban, Harry,” and the last word rips out of him as a sob and then Harry’s arms are around him, holding him together as he cries for his mother. 

~

They Apparate often, never staying in one place more than a night, crashing in seedy hotels that Harry provides cash and fake names for. Each time, Harry weaves wards shimmering with magic so strong it takes Draco’s breath away. Draco marvels at being alive in the underbelly of Paris, under neon club signs in Madrid, next to laughing couples weaving the streets of Warsaw. They stick to large cities so their magic won’t be immediately recognisable. Harry’s smile at strangers is a knife point, paired with tense shoulders and darting eyes that seem to take in everything. His fingers curl around Draco’s bicep tight enough to bruise each time they Apparate. Draco wonders when this happened, when Harry went from a boy easily thrown by Draco’s stupid taunts to a man who couldn’t be mistaken for anything but a carefully honed weapon. 

Harry goes out while Draco sits in the hotel room, sick with anxiety and the cold hollowness that lingers from weeks spent in Azkaban before the trials. When Harry comes back he holds a grim look on his face and things in his pockets that he doesn’t show Draco, but he also presses Muggle chocolate and cheap paperback mysteries into Draco’s trembling hands, and sometimes Harry flashes him a smile bright enough to melt away their reality for just a moment.

It takes a week to realize that the sharpness of Harry is for Draco, who currently couldn’t fend off a particularly violent child without having a panic attack. The only times Harry goes soft is when he’s looking at Draco, with a fierce and warm and overwhelming something in his gaze. Draco places tiny squares of chocolate on his tongue and realizes Harry is protecting him, and the thought lights up like a tiny fire in his chest and doesn’t fade.

~

Draco chokes on apologies and guilt, and Harry smooths his hand over Draco’s cheek, so slowly Draco can’t do anything but freeze in place. “I understand,” he says softly, and Draco believes him. “You deserve a chance to make things better. I’m gonna to give that to you, yeah?”

Harry gives pieces of himself freely, talking in low tones about the year he spent on the run, how he couldn’t stand to be in the same room as Ginny after the war, the way the loss of Remus Lupin cuts through his heart in a way no other does. 

“Why are you telling me this?” Draco’s voice is a whisper. He can’t make himself ask louder. Harry scrunches up his nose as though confused. 

“If you were gonna leave, you already would’ve.”

“What? I don’t understand–”

“I trust you, Draco.”

~

Draco wakes with a gasp and the lingering impression of a Dementor’s chill, and he stumbles across the dark room to slide under warmer sheets. Harry barely stirs, but a sturdy arm wraps around Draco’s stomach as he drifts off, keeping him safe. They don’t go back to sleeping in separate beds, and they don’t talk about it.

~

In Berlin, a man forcefully grabs Draco’s wrist and he whimpers, terror freezing him in place until he feels the heat of Harry at his side, catches a silver flash of something too small to see. The violent smell of blood clings to the back of Draco’s throat as they Apparate away. 

“What have you done? What did you do?” Draco’s frantic, stumbling against the bed, but then Harry’s hands are on his shoulders and he sinks into the warmth. 

“Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe now, you’re safe.” 

“But what did you do?” Draco’s knees hit the floor, a regular occurrence these days, and he’s shivering in the oncoming wake of a panic attack. “Why did he... I don’t want people to want to hurt me anymore.” Harry sinks to the floor next to him and wraps his arms around Draco’s chest, rocking him slowly and humming something tuneless next to his ear. 

That night, in a different city, Draco lies awake listening to Harry’s deep breaths, and he realizes two things: Harry would not hesitate to kill for him, and it’s never occurred to Draco to be afraid of the man Harry has become.

~

In a rickety bed nearly too small to be a twin, Harry lays a breath away from Draco and tells him about dying. Draco shivers and shivers until he fists his hand into Harry’s dark curls, pulling too hard, kissing him with teeth. Harry kisses him back just as wildly and it’s familiar territory, taunts across school halls and punches thrown, until the moment they melt into each other and it transforms into something painfully fragile and brand new. Harry rolls to cover Draco’s body with his own, tucking his fingers under the hem of Draco’s shirt and tugging upwards. “Let me,” he murmurs, trailing his mouth over Draco’s jaw, his neck, his chest. Draco’s scars glow silver in the moonlight, and Harry kisses down every one. “Let me.”

~

Harry finally tells Draco his plans, and fear is a knifepoint pressed against Draco’s back. “You can’t,” he whispers fiercely, hyper aware of the thin walls of their room despite the wards. “It’s the Ministry. It’s suicide.”

“Draco, don’t you get it? I have to.” Harry’s voice is just as low, just as fierce, angry that Draco doesn’t seem to understand. “I have to. And I won’t be alone, you’ve seen the letters, this is bigger than me.”

“Harry, I just can’t... “ Draco places his hand on Harry’s cheek and closes his eyes. “I’m with you, to the end. Just please... don’t leave me.” Harry turns to kiss Draco’s palm, then presses honey-sweet kisses up his arm, tracing the delicate veins under Draco’s skin. Draco keeps his eyes closed and pushes down the flare of hope that burns in his chest.

~

In the chill of a Stockholm evening and under layers of glamor, Harry kisses him in the middle of a blocked-off street. There’s snow clinging to his dark lashes, and Draco realizes he’d follow this man to the ends of the earth. He lets himself smile, a rare and small thing, and Harry’s whole face lights up. 

“Happy Christmas, love.” Harry’s eyes are bright, and even with people bustling around them Draco has the sense that they’re the only people in the world. 

“I didn’t realize, I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“I have you, that’s enough.” That crooked smile remains on Harry’s face and Draco’s pulse is in his throat. Harry laces their gloved fingers together as they continue walking, and Draco can almost imagine a different life, one where they go home to a warm flat with a fireplace and tall bookcases and matching mugs of hot cocoa. 

~

“Harry, we don’t have to go back.” It’s Draco’s last resort and a lie. He knows they can’t live their entire lives like the past few months, tumbling hunted through crowds and hotel rooms. He knows he wants to give Harry a place to be soft, to peel back those hard layers, to go out for coffee together and have it be easy.

“I want to build a home with you,” Harry says simply. “A home where we’re not afraid. Where you have a chance to be more.”

Draco’s swallows around the knot in his throat. “Alright.” He watches as Harry methodically packs his knapsack with vials holding incandescent potions, long sticks of industrial grade dragonfire dynamite, short muggle knives. He doesn’t say, I’m not afraid of anything so long as I’m with you. Instead, he stares at the confident lines of Harry’s body. “You never seem afraid.” 

Harry pauses, glancing up at Draco with a lopsided smile, and Draco is struck breathless by the fact that they’re still just kids, in the grand scheme of things. “I am afraid, Draco. I’m afraid of the Ministry fucking over the lives of so many people who deserve better, and I’m afraid of… I’m afraid of losing you, love. Of you leaving,” he adds, and then swallows hard. Draco is across the room before he can think about, cupping Harry’s cheeks in his hands and dropping kisses across Harry’s forehead, his cheeks, his nose. Harry trembles underneath his palms, and Draco is stricken as he realizes that Harry is always the one who gives tender and affectionate kisses out of nowhere, who touches Draco like he was made for it. Draco’s been afraid, too afraid to touch and hold and kiss Harry like he deserves. Too afraid to let Harry know how mad Draco is for him. 

He presses his mouth to Harry’s, soft and tender, trying to convey the terrifying depth of his emotions. “I’m not going to leave, darling,” he whispers, managing to pull himself a breath away from Harry’s mouth. His own voice sounds foreign and shattered. “I’m not going to leave, I’m not going to leave. Build a home for us, Harry. I promise I’ll stay. Take me home.”

Read on AO3

[vv3nti]

liar — t. oikawa & h. iwaizumi

synopsis—a love triangle of unrequited love

warnings—angst , unrequited love , break-up , some aspects based off american high school , there may be a little ooc i'm still learning to writing the hq boys sorry :/

a/n—this is a one-shot i wrote i'm hoping to make into a series- i've started part two so that's promised if not a series, send an ask or wtv to be tagged for that <3

“I’m tired of hiding, Tooru. I’m tired of being kept a secret.” You said softly, twirling the necklace around your neck between two fingers. The weight of this relationship finally lifting off your shoulders, but that didn’t stop the inevitable thump growing in your throat. You love Oikawa, you really do, but you can’t keep going like this. Your heart won’t allow it. You want someone proud to show you off and cherish you with all they have. Maybe, your expectations were too high from the beginning; if you had set the bar lower, this all could have been avoided. Or if Oikawa truly cared for you, loved you as he said he did. Whatever the reason, the dull ache was too much to bear. “I can’t do this anymore; it hurts too much.”

Oikawa had not expected those words to leave your plush lips. No, he thought you’d complain again, he’d kiss it better, and you would forget about it, like usual. But this—this was the last thing he wanted to hear. You were happy; he was sure of it. What the hell provoked you to feel like this? “What do you mean? We agreed we would wait.”

“Yeah, months ago.” You wave your hand through the air. You had no intention of allowing the boy to dismiss your concerns, not again. “And every time I mention it, you disregard my feelings like they don’t matter.”

His eyebrows furrowed, a clear frown set on his face. “Of course, your feelings matter to me.”

“If that were true, we wouldn’t be in this situation.” Anxiety started creeping up your spine, a deep shiver demersing. You couldn’t help but feel off-put; if you didn’t end the conversation fast, you knew you’d slip back in his clutches. “Please, don’t make this any harder than it has to be. No one even knew we were together; that means things can go back to normal.”

“Normal?” He mumbled, eyes downcast to the floor. “What does that even mean? Nevermind that—is this about my fangirls? Because I can tell them to back off. Or Mei? Did she say something to you.” Oikawa’s calm demeanor began to wear off, and panic soon set it. The perfect picture he had planted in his head was decaying within the second, and he couldn’t manage the thought. He couldn’t even see the harsh reality behind his imagination; nothing about your relationship was ideal. Oikawa pushed you too far off the deep end, and as he tried to meet his own needs, he neglected yours.

His hands reached out to you, afraid you’d disappear if he didn’t get ahold of you soon.

The mention of his ex stung a little more than it should. But what are you supposed to feel? Tooru was publicly dating her for a lot longer than you've been together and you felt inferior to her in so many ways. They didn't break up on bad terms and you can't help but wonder if he still has feelings for her—it would justify his need to keep you a secret. “No! I’m done, I’m done with this, Tooru. This how couples are supposed to act; I don’t want to act like this. I’m sorry, but I can’t keep doing this. I need time, a break, anything but this.”

That night you both went home with a gaping hole in your chest and beds a little colder than before. Uncertainty crept in; was this a temporary break or a breakup. Neither of you had the answer.

You spent the first day of the long weekend cooped in your room, fresh tear streaks following the tracks on the old. On Sunday, you had to head to the school to decorate lockers for senior night or week in Sejohs case; the volleyball team had games on Tuesday and Friday this week. Luckily your appointed third year was Iwaizumi, so you didn’t have to trouble over an awkward encounter with Oikawa. Monday consisted of endless baking; it was safe to say you went slightly overboard. Assortments of brownies, cupcakes, mini cheesecakes, and peach cobbler aligned the countertops. One might say you’re a stress baker.

On the contrary, Oikawa spent his weekend hounding down on his team with tiring drills and repetitive rotations. His temper was short, and his attitude anything but playful. None of the club members wanted to be the one to confront their captain, leaving him alone in his thoughts—thoughts about you. At night he got little to no sleep, spending his sleepless nights replaying all his wrongs as if the answer will all of a sudden appear. But how is Oikawa supposed to fix a problem he didn’t even know what there.

Tuesday rolled around faster than anyone could have expected. You sat restlessly in the clubroom, waiting for Iwaizumi to meet you there. You requested him to join you in the room, considering you didn’t walk to school with him and Oikawa as you usually would. Regardless of where you interacted, you knew Iwa had many questions, and you’d preferably be interrogated in private than in front of the entire student body.

Iwa rushed into the room, school bag around his shoulder and one of his jerseys flailing in his hand. “Hey,” He spoke, his usually irritated tone nowhere to be heard. Upon seeing him, scorching anxiety rose in your chest. Deep breaths, Y/N, deep breaths. “I brought this.”

“Iwa, hi,” You chirped, hopping on the tabletop and embracing your friend—holding on a little tighter than usual. Despite your constant mantra of ‘I’m fine,’ you did long for some form of comfort. “Yes, right, thank you. Just set in on my bag. I want to show you what I made.” You dragged the boy by his hand to the table occupying your tasty treats. You figured he could share the desserts with the rest of the team once they won tonight. The hopeful look on your face slightly dropped. Iwa didn’t look as excited as you hoped for. Instead, he looked deep in thought, like something was bothering him.

“What’s going on?” He questioned quietly, finally meeting your puzzled eyes. “Come on, Y/N, you cook when you’re upset. Anyone who’s known you for more than a year knows that.”

Mouth ajar and eyes wide, you searched for an excuse to preach to Iwaizumi—although you know your attempts will be futile. Since you were in elementary school, you’ve grown up the boy and had no doubt he would read you like an open book. And if not you, then most definitely Oikawa. “Nothings going on; I just wanted you to have an array of options. Is that so bad? You could be a little more thankful, you know.”

“Of course, I’m thankful for all of this. But I’m going to find it a little concerning when Shittykawa is as quiet as a mouse, and you’ve got bags under your eyes from what? The hours you spent baking through the night?.” Iwa uttered, raising his voice a bit.

Unfortunately, that only further pushed you to the defensive stature. You wished he’d just leave it, shove it under a rug as you did this weekend. “Not everything I do involves Oikawa! If he’s acting weird, then you can ask him about that instead of undermining what I did for you!” You frantically grabbed your bag off the ground, planning to leave the room. “If you didn’t like it, you could have said thanks and thrown it away—”

“Hey, Hey,” A tight grip encloses around your bicep, halting your departure. “I’m sorry, I really like everything you did for me, you know cheesecake is my favorite. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I’m sorry.” Iwaizumi’s grip doesn’t falter, even as your teary eyes meet his own.

The lump grew in your throat as you fought back the waterworks. “We broke up, or I broke up with him, I guess. Can you even break up with someone who didn’t want you in the first place?” You said, through a broken sob. Iwa doesn’t say anything. He just stares at you with the same pitiful look you’ve seen a thousand times. His free hand moved to the side of your face, patting your hair a few times before he pushed your head into his chest. Words wouldn’t provide you with the support you needed, so Iwa simply let you cry in his embrace—secretly plotting all the ways he wanted to beat Oikawa’s ass.

He didn’t need to ask. He knew all the reasons why this happened. Hell, Hajime had seen the foreseeable future unravel when Oikawa presented your relationship.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be such a downer on game day.” You lifted your head, lightly brushing your palms along his uniform, waiting for your tears to dry. The door to the clubroom snapped open, hitting the opposing wall, prompting you and Iwa to rush apart. The look on the face read shocked, more towards the fact you didn’t need the club questioning why you were crying this early in the morning. But the brunette boy in front of you idly took a long, deep breath encouraging you to do the same.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?”

“Just Iwa and his not-girlfriend, what’s new?” Mattsun and Makki seemed to be having a good morning, and not even Iawizumi could shake them out of the teasing moods. Despite their playful banter, you couldn’t help but focus on the silent set of eyes following your movements, and something about his silence was off-putting.

You turned to the two, a sly smile planted on your lips. “I’m not even indulging,” Fake it til’ you make it. “But I did make a small arsenal of desserts, so help yourself-”

“If I decide to share with these idiots.”

“Help yourself-if Iwa chooses to so graciously gift you the pleasure.” You said sweetly, playfully bowing as Mattsun and Makki rolled their eyes. “I have to go to class, so enjoy, and good luck.”

“Here I got it.” Iwa offered, plucking your bag from the floor with a small smile. The kind gesture made your heart flutter, your mood beginning to lift simultaneously. Ever since you were little, Iwaizumi always seemed to know what you needed to feel better, almost like an institution. Maybe that’s why his tone was short and sharp when he told Oikawa to move away from the door as you tried to leave, you’re used to his cold demeanor, but it was unsettling. You didn’t want him to be this angry with his best friend because of you, although it was a little awarding.

Oikawa’s lips laid ajar, fumbling his thoughts to form a reasonable enough sentence. He wanted to say something astounding to you, something that gave you no choice but to come back to him. He planned it all day yesterday, but now as you hide behind Iwa, he drew a blank.

“I’m serious, Oikawa. Move.”

Oikawa hung his head in shame, shuffling to the side, allowing you and Iwa to exit the room. The overwhelming feeling of patheticness climbing his veins. He didn’t mind his best friend’s anger towards him, but this wasn’t rage. Iwaizumi was disappointed, and Tooru couldn’t shake his glare.

Practice was usually a time the boys could assert their worries into energy, but the thick tension left everyone unsettled. Today’s warmup was eerily different.

Tooru watched you bounce in and out of the gym with the rest of the cheer squad; Iwa’s jersey adorned your figure. His expression held that of a kicked puppy, and it was pissing off the rest of the team. They needed their captain in his best frame of mind if they wanted to win.

Hajime’s humorless laugh broke the silence. “I warned you, you know.” Oikawa shifted his attention. “I told you you’d only hurt her, and you continued reassuring me you wouldn't, time after fucking time. And...there was a time I believed you, but you’re a liar, and Y/N sees it too.”

Oikawa’s sadness morphed into anger, eyes twitching as he bit the inside of his cheek. “If I’m a liar, that makes you one too.” He sneered, eyes still downcast on the court. His emotions were on overdrive, plucking and pinching in his mind. Oikawa knew he should resort to this method of release, but he was losing all control.

The ace sucked in a sharp breath, eye blazing. “Yea, well, I can live with that. Can you?”

Coach cut the conversation short, asking why the boys weren’t warming up before the game. The captain and ace have begotten many altercations through the years, but they always found a way to convert their anger into power. Coach Irihata only hopes that proves true with tonight’s game.

You, on the other hand, had a million tasks to complete before you could settle down in the gym, so you ultimately missed the scuffle in the gym. Just that didn’t make you ignorant to the rising tension, and you couldn’t help but feel it was your fault.

[moldisgoodforyou]

the exes

lmfao guys i finally checked my taglist form and i've been missing a lot of you sorry :///

warnings: men that might remind you of your ex, brief mentions of sexual content

wordcount: 2.4k we're back to shorter fics unless you guys want to start waiting a month in between them

_______

“I love you, Sophie,” he’d said, and then looked at her expectantly.

She was surprised when she heard herself echoing her first boyfriend, Peter, with an “I love you too,” even though she wasn’t sure she meant it. Her parents always said they fell in love after only two weeks, so Peter waiting two whole months to tell her was a logical next step.

Right?

Peter went to the Columbus College of Art and Design, and they’d met through a dating app after Sophie figured she didn’t want to have to meet another boy that was halfway drunk and put his hands on her waist when he shuffled past her in the dirty college bar. So she settled for the first nice boy she met, that looked halfway decent and kissed halfway decent too. He was two years older, twenty while she was eighteen, and always bragged to his friends about how mature she was, how smart she was for her age.

Her father hated him, but Sophie just figured it was because he was her first real boyfriend. Carter especially hated him, making a clear effort to ignore him and turn a cold shoulder when he’d pick Sophie up from the dorms and take her out to dinner, or on the few mornings he had to pick her up from Peter’s house when Peter would complain he was too hungover to drive the eleven minutes to campus to bring her home.

She quickly learned that I love you wasn’t necessarily love, it was more like an obligation. When she really was too busy with architecture homework, or she had a sorority meeting, he’d ask her to come over with a pleading “c’mon, but I love you,” and she’d huff to herself but pack up her things and go to his apartment for a couple hours. She’d hang out with him just long enough to placate him, then trudge back to her house, work on homework until three am, wake up exhausted, repeat.

She went out with him to the bars, more often than she liked, and he’d get way drunker than her every time. Sophie would sigh and drag him home, then make sure he was well enough to attend church the next day. She went once and was reminded of how her childhood was spent in church, every Sunday in youth group, and hated that feeling. One of the girls in his youth group led a sermon about saving yourself for marriage, sending several pointed glances at Sophie, and she realized he’d probably confessed to them about how she let him touch her. (He didn’t know that she faked an orgasm so he’d quit rubbing what was basically her inner thigh.)

He was never mean, just...boring. Something she had to deal with. She found herself wanting more, playing with the idea of what it would be like to ask out the cute boy in her sociology class, but then she’d shake her head and remind herself she wasn’t a cheater. Besides, he wasn’t that terrible. He’d dote on her and call her princess (which she hated, but figured as far as pet names went, it could be worse).

When he posted photos with other girls on his Instagram story - at a party, in class, out to lunch - Sophie found herself not caring a little too much. She kept waiting for a hint of jealousy, and thought that sometimes he was waiting for it too, but it never came. Julia and Allie would see and question those stories, ask Sophie who those girls were, but she’d just get defensive and shrug it off. (He’s allowed to have other girl friends, she’d say. Even when the photo showed the girl’s head on his chest and arms around his waist and his arm around hers, his hand on her hip.)

When he called her in tears, after five months of dating, she knew what was coming.

“I kissed someone else.”

“Oh.” She paused, gathered her thoughts, then realized she had none. Felt completely neutral. “Okay.”

Peter sounded like he was at his breaking point. She didn’t care. “It’s been going on for a while.”

“Is it Andie?” Sophie asked, growing annoyed. Did they really need to drag the phone call out?

“Yeah.” He let out some ungodly sob and she found herself feeling disgusted, wanting to tell him to pull it together. Andie was cool, a girl she’d met a couple times at the few college parties she’d been to with Peter, where everyone sat around and smoked cigarettes and drank IPAs, and fit the stereotype of art students so damn well it wasn’t even funny. Andie wore Doc Martens and had a buzzcut and gave zero fucks - and clearly didn’t give any about the tentative friendship Sophie thought they had.

She wrinkled her nose. “Did you do more than just kiss?”

Peter had never pressured her - ever - Sophie would tell him sorry with shaky hands, that she just wasn’t ready to go further, then felt gross every time she apologized. But if they went a little too far and she made them stop, he never stayed the night, only napped with her until she was asleep and slipped out just after.

“I’m so sorry, princess -”

She recoiled at the pet name. She’d never liked it but didn’t hate it enough to argue against it. “No, no, answer the question, Peter. Did you do more?”

“...Yeah. We did. I just - I had to find it somewhere, you know -”

“Oh.” She mumbled, her insecurities confirmed.

“Sophie, princess, I’m so sorry. Why don’t you come over and we can just -”

“I don’t think I want to see you again. For a while.” She added, chewing anxiously on her lip as she told him.

Silence came over the phone for a few moments until he finally replied. “Oh.”

A few more moments. “You’re sure? We can talk it out.”

“Um...no. And yes, I’m pretty sure. Okay. Um. Talk to you later, I guess.” She hung up, feeling more disappointed in herself for not catching it than anything else.

(They did not talk later, or ever again. Sophie figured that was best.)

_______

Shortly after Peter, Sophie met Luke. He was sweet, a little boring too, but most importantly, he was easy. Easy to talk to, easy to hang out with, and she didn’t have this lingering fear in the back of her mind that he was going to go hook up with someone else. After a few months, Luke became a little less than easy - he was clingy and would walk her home from every class, he would ask her to come hang out when he studied in the chemistry lab, he would complain if she didn’t spend the night with him. She found herself lying to him that the architecture studio didn’t allow visitors, just so she could get a breath of fresh air.

One night, when Sophie sighed upon seeing Luke’s contact pop up on her phone and went to grab her overnight bag without even reading the text, Allie frowned. “Sophie.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to do this, you know. Just because he says he misses you. You can be your own person.”

Sophie paused, considering. “I am my own person, just with him. Right?”

Allie hesitated before answering, wanting to phrase things carefully so Sophie didn’t get upset. “I feel like maybe you’re a little different with him. When I met you, you were confident and bold and...I don’t know. I think he’s holding you back.”

(You’re a shell of yourself,” is what she really wanted to say, but she wasn’t sure Sophie could handle that.)

“Oh.” Sophie uttered, quiet. Allie had just confirmed what Sophie had been thinking for months, but she didn’t think anyone else had picked up on it. “You think I should break up with him?”

“I think you need to decide that on your own.”

“Allie.”

She just gave her a look, shaking her head. “Go over there, and say what you need to say.”

Sophie was clearly debating, stuck, until Allie pried her bag out of her hand and grabbed her keys from her desk. “Al -”

“Come on. I’ll drive you.” Allie guided her out the door, her arm slung around Sophie’s shoulders. She drove her to Luke’s house, waited outside while Sophie went in, and texted Julia to get ice cream from the store when Sophie walked back out only twenty minutes later with teary eyes.

Sophie slid back in the passenger seat, drawing her knees to her chest. “I did it.”

“I’m proud of you, Soph.” Allie reached over and hugged her. “You’re better than him. I promise.”

When they both returned to their room, Julia wrapped Sophie in a big hug. She held her tight as Sophie sniffled, quietly, then promptly handed her a spoon for the ice cream as soon as she let go. After a few moments of quiet, Julia broke the silence. “So when are you getting back out there?”

“Oh my god, Jules, give her a break.” Allie rolled her eyes as Sophie giggled through her tears.

“I’m just asking! Maybe it’s time for you to go through your hoe phase, babe.” She reached over and snagged a bite of the ice cream, twirling the spoon around thoughtfully. “Or do you have any guys in mind - oh, remember that cute Delt that’s from your hometown -”

Sophie fixed her with a glare. “If I’m doing a hoe phase, it’s sure as hell not gonna be with Rafe Cameron.”

“Rafe! That’s what it was. Okay, so he’s out. What about the bartender at Varsity Club, he always gives you the extra shots in your drink for free?”

“Can you give the girl at least a day to get over her breakup?” Allie asked skeptically.

“Can I just say something?” Julia asked.

Sophie sighed, nodding. “I know you’re gonna say it anyways, so go ahead.”

Julia gave her a sheepish grin, patting Sophie’s knee. “I never liked him. He made you kinda like a doormat, y’know, and that’s not you. You’re better than that. Plus, he was so needy. I mean, he had to have been good in bed for you to stick around -”

“Jesus Christ, Jules -”

“He wasn’t.” Sophie interrupted them both. “We didn’t do that much, anyways.”

“Oh.” Julia paused, thinking. “Well. I’m glad you broke up with him, anyways. Takes a lot of courage.”

———

The first time Luke called when he was drunk, it was only a week after their breakup. Sophie felt bad and picked him up from the bar to drive him home, and let him kiss her in his room before she pulled away and urged him into bed.

The second time, it was the next weekend, and she did the same thing, but kissed him a little more. She ignored Julia’s knowing look when she slinked back into their room, head down, with her lipstick a little smeared and hair a little astray.

He kept drunk calling and she kept going to rescue him, to pick him up from the bars or a pregame or wherever else he was. She convinced herself it was only because she felt bad about breaking up with him, that he wasn’t all that bad in the relationship. The fifth time he called, a month and a half after the breakup, the girls were all drunk at the bars, and Luke was drinking at a party. When he called, Allie snatched the phone out of Sophie’s hand and tucked herself into the corner of the bar to hear him.

“Luke?”

“Soph - no, wait, Allie?”

“Yes. It’s Allie. Stop fucking calling her.”

“I just - I thought she could take me home -” He started, confused.

Allie huffed but forced a smile and gave Sophie a thumbs up from across the bar. “No. She can’t. And you can’t call her anymore, she’s not your girlfriend. Go find a friend or something.” With that she promptly hung up and blocked his number, satisfied. She’d regret it a little in the morning, but didn’t tell Sophie what she’d done.

____

It took Sophie about two weeks after Luke’s last phone call to follow Julia’s advice to ‘get back out there.’ The first time, she convinced herself it was way too easy - flirted with a frat boy at the bar with a few subtle touches, twirled her hair around her finger, and went back to his room after only an hour of knowing him. It was rushed, awkward, and she was pretty sure the guy came in his pants after a few heated kisses and a couple rolls of her hips.

The second time, she tried a little harder, going after a guy that approached her first with a smooth pickup line and a broad smile. They traded buying rounds for each other all night, until he kissed her around midnight and shyly asked if she’d want to go back to his place. When he escorted her into what she recognized as an off-campus Sigma Chi senior house, she didn’t dare inform him that actually, she was just a sophomore with a really good fake ID. She surprised herself when she took off her clothes first, then kissed him with a newfound confidence she’d pulled out of nowhere.

“I lost it.” Sophie announced with a slight frown when she came back into their room at two am.

Allie woke up from her spot on the futon where she and Julia were watching TV, rubbing her eyes. “What’d you lose?”

“Your...” Julia trailed off.

Sophie nodded, wrapped her arms around herself. “It’s not like everyone says. And I thought it would take a little longer. It wasn’t bad, though.”

Allie frowned, getting up to hug her. “Are you alright?”

Sophie accepted the hug, resting her chin on Allie’s shoulder. “Yeah. Just...I don’t know. I kind of hoped it would be a little more special.”

“He didn’t kick you out, did he?” Julia rose too, wrapping her arms around both the girls.

“No. I left.” She paused, sounding both deflated and a tiny bit hopeful. “They can’t all be like this, right? I mean, this is my fourth guy I’ve had...something with, and I’m starting to think there’s a trend.”

“No, no, you’ll find the right person. I promise.” Julia assured her. “Maybe you need to just wait, you know? Take some time for yourself.”

Allie hummed in agreement. “You’re more than just some dumb relationship.”

“I just…” Sophie sighed, quietly. “How am I supposed to know when he’s the right one?”

taglist: @drewstarkey @lemur46 @jjmaybanksbaby @edgeofgr8 @quxxnxfhxll @obxtess @hoodpankow @vtgirl802 @outerbankies @messagesinthesky @nicolecarsley @svechnikolan @ilovejjmaybank @obxtess @abbyj1822 @oopsiedoopsie23 @g4bster @jjmaybankzz @freddymaybank @dontjinx-it @illbesafeforyou @moniamaybank @tovvaa @jailcalledlife @sunshineitsfine44 @randomficsandshit @outerbankspreferences @outerbanksbro @karsinner @kkmaybank @whoeveniskendall

[godofplumsandthunder]

Twisted Fate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Cancer, both Bucky and reader have cancer, Major Character death, brief hospital terms mainly reffering to cancer treatment. References to amputation.

A/N: This was written for the lovely @eurynome827​ 2k celebration. I got a lovely quote of lyrics from Hadestown, which I wanted to do something that was based off of the musical, but I couldn’t figure anything out. Then I had a big anniversary come up and this was came out instead. It’s very angsty, I cried a lot, and well I hope you like it.

The low, steady hum of the fan fills the awkward silence. The psychiatrist, newly assigned to the case, still doesn’t feel comfortable. “Case number 32557038” was widely known in the health care center. The whispers and rumors floated their way down the hall, past the copy machine, filling the office with this chilling tale. Some regarded it as a terrible series of bad luck, others thought it was an act of some benevolent God, pouring his rage on this poor couple. Dr. Breynord, after reading the notes on the file, Breynord knew that this case was perhaps the worst case of bad luck she ever saw in her career, and, maybe it was her stubbornness or naive belief in medicine, but Dr. Breynord was going to help this poor man get the peace he so desperately needs.

“James,” Dr. Breynord’s voice breaks the silence of the office, “I’ve read what my colleagues had to say about your case, but, I’d like you to tell me what has happened if you feel comfortable.”

Shifting in his seat, James sighs, with a small nod of the head, he starts at the beginning.

Bucky Barnes was used to change. Granted, it was other people’s change, but it was still change nonetheless. The poor folks that sat next to him each clinic visit changed, his caretakers changed, it seemed as if the whole world changed around him, while he was stuck in some perpetual hell. Every day dragged out in the same dull, and nauseating feeling, and at times, Bucky felt he was in an endless loop, forsaken by some deity he didn’t believe in. But, for however long Bucky has left in this fallen and cruel world, he’ll remember when you walked in, shattering the miserable purgatory he was banished to, he’ll always remember the day you changed his life.

It happened during his first transfusion session after his surgery. His arm, still wrapped in bandage, IV tubing leading straight to his heart, pumped his body full of liquids, as he waited for the toxic poison to enter his body. He always found it ironic, the “medicine” that was supposed to save his life, that was too dangerous for the nurses to touch with their bare hands, was willingly flushed into his body. Hair loss, mouth sores, and muscle aches were the better side effects. He can’t help but think about what is coming, especially as he sees his nurse, Thor, come over with the freshly made batch of poison [STRIKE THROUGH], chemotherapy as his doctor would want him to call it. Hanging the bag on his IV pole, Thor looks over at Bucky, giving him the “I’m going to go on a rant about something you should care about” look. 

“Now James, we’re getting a new patient today. It’s their first transfusion. They’re going to be sitting in the pod next to you. I swear to the gods, I best not hear another complaint about your attitude.”

“Me? An attitude? No, I think you got me confused with someone else. I’m the brightest little ball of sunshine here!” Bucky can’t help but chuckle. It’s not his fault he wasn’t a “warrior”, blasting “Fight Song” 24/7, as he sips on a kale smoothie with coffee suppositories shoved up his ass. T

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, Barnes,” Thor shakes his head as he cleans up his station, “don’t think I won’t throw your bald ass out of here. That cancer sob story, won’t work on me.” 

Bucky goes back to his phone, already feeling the effects of the chemo. No matter how many anti-nausea meds they fed him, Cisplatin always makes him sick. So, he had the right to act like a grumpy old grandpa. While he scrolls through his social media feed, seeing all the accomplishments, brags, and just shit of his friends, Bucky hears your sniffles, as you make your way down to the end of the Oncology clinic, taking a seat next to Bucky. Even if Thor hadn’t given him the heads up, he would have known you were fresh meat. One infusion, his mom asked him how he could tell. It was easy for Bucky, it all had to do with the eyes. A cancer diagnosis shatters you. It kills all hope, light, and goodness that’s in you. You turn completely numb to the world, to the point where your own wailing and sobs feel muted. Bucky saw all of that in your eyes. Behind the puffy, redness, saw the shards of hope, the fear of the unknown. Before you could reach your seat, you stumble, spilling your possessions that you carried all over the floor. Bucky watches quietly as you quickly pick up your items, collapsing into the chair next to him. 

“Sorry I couldn’t give you a hand, only have the one,” he wiggles his stump, and he's met with silence. Talk about a rough crowd, he thinks, his nephews love his stumpy jokes. “So,” Bucky continues, “what are you in for? I’m a sarcoma, in the arm.” You sniffle as you turn your body to look at this new man.

“Leukemia,” you confess, voice barely above a whisper. It takes a real effort to say it out loud because then it makes all of this real.

“That’s good then,” the “sarcoma” man says to you, and Bucky can see the confusion, and pain on your face.

“How is that good? How is cancer good?”

Using his arm, Bucky points around the room, giving you a tour of the room.

“See him, that’s Riley, he has an inoperable brain tumor. That young kid, with the Switch? His name is Peter, his body is chemo resistant. So yeah, leukemia is good. If you haven’t learned it yet, not all cancers are made equal.”

“Oh,” you barely make out. What were you supposed to say to that? 

=====

Much to Bucky’s surprise, he actually enjoyed having your company. Your treatments lined up and so you both got to know each other well. Bucky enjoyed having someone close to his age that understood his problems. And it also didn’t hurt that you had such a great personality, you got Bucky’s dark humor (and it went without saying that you understood it was his way of coping), and you looked great. Not many people can rock a bald head. And Bucky has seen his fair share, and he can say with confidence, you rocked it. Not covering it up with caps, scarves, or wigs. Because why should you hide away? For the first time since his diagnosis, Bucky had a purpose. So, while his immune system allowed him to leave the house, he picked up a bouquet of fake flowers (neutropenia life, am I right?) and a box of chocolates to take with him to the next transfusion. When he got to the clinic, Bucky was a bit worried to see that you weren’t next to him. Instead, there sat Barb, 75 years old with breast cancer. 

“Oh sweetie, are those for me?” Barb looks at the flowers in Bucky’s hand. 

“No!” He snaps, as closes the curtain that surrounds his chair. He hears some huffs and complaints from Barb, but frankly, he doesn’t give a damn. Bucky only has one thing on his mind: you. 

“Are you alright? You’re not here at Club Med” Bucky texts as quickly as his one hand would let him. Dropping his phone, Bucky stares at it all while the nurses prep him. And because of damn, HIPAA, none of the nurses can tell him where you’re at. Minutes turn into hours, and by the time Bucky’s infusion ends, you still haven’t responded to him or shown up at the clinic. 

“Hope you’re okay. Call or text me. I'm worried” Bucky sighs, realizing how much you made his chemo treatments more bearable. How your laugh could make him forget of the poison he had to take, or how the light in your eyes could make him forget, even just for a bit, how much his arm stump was hurting. You were a drug, more potent than any he’s had before, and Bucky was becoming addicted. He’s picking at the hamburger he got for dinner, not having much of an appetite when his phone goes off. Seeing it’s from you, he rushes to answer. 

“Y/N! I… Where were you? I missed you today. I had to sit by Barb and…” The sounds of your cries cut Bucky off. 

“Are you okay?”

“No, Buck. I… Got some bad news today.” 

“Where are you?” He asks. He knows you’re alone, and speaking from experience, you never want to be alone when you get bad news. He knows from experience.

“Buck…” you sigh, “It’s fine. Really.” 

“Please, Y/N, I know what it’s like to be alone after getting this kind of news. Please, let me be there for you.” Breaking further down into tears, you cry at Bucky’s actions, actions of love. 

“I’ll send you my address,” Bucky gathers the flowers and chocolates as he rushes to your apartment, breaking a few traffic laws to get there faster. When he gets there, the image of you, opening the door, eyes swollen from crying breaks his heart. 

“Oh, Y/N,” Bucky sweeps you into his arm, as he closes the door behind, “tell me what’s going on hun.” 

You both sit on the couch, the bag with the flowers and chocolate lay at your feet, as you stay in Bucky’s embrace. 

“I’m… I’m dying Buck!” You manage to say in-between odds. “Dr. Fair... gave me three months to live. There’s nothing else they can do.” You break down in his arms, that last straw finally breaking, as you tell your newfound best friend, the person you were supposed to beat cancer with. Bucky tries his best to remain strong, to be the rock, the foundation you need, but you’re not the only one that is losing a friend. You sit in each other's embrace, as you mourn. You cry for all the missed opportunities, laughs, and memories that won’t be made. 

“What am I going to do,” you whisper, your voice hoarse from crying. 

Kissing your head, Bucky pulls you in closer, “we, are going to make these three months, the best three months you’ve ever had.”

Bucky lives up to his promise, spending every hour he isn’t in the hospital with you. The time you spent together changed your relationship. Neither had to officially say the words to make your relationship official. It was just you, and Bucky. Holding each other close, as the tempest waged on, trying to beat you into submission. You go on walks in the park, picnics, and one night when you both had the energy, went skinny dipping. Your logic being, what are the cops going to do? Arrest two cancer patients, with one of them being terminal? You threw caution to the wind and simply lived. Lived, breathed, and loved. Things seemed to be perfect until reality hit.

Your body wasn’t keeping up. Your cancer was spreading faster than they predicted. The doctors couldn’t give you an explanation as to why the cancer was spreading so fast. It shouldn’t have been. Soon, home hospice came, to try to make you more comfortable. And like the good partner he was, Bucky spent every minute by your side. That’s why, when you felt the inevitable coming, you felt your body give in to the tiredness of fighting, you grab Bucky’s hand. 

“I love you, James Bucky Barnes,” you weakly say, giving him one last affirmation, as you went to sleep, for one last time. 

As Bucky wakes up from his nap, feeling your cold body, he tries to ruse you back awake. Once he realizes what has happened, the last bit of humanity inside of Bucky snapped. He lets out a blood-curdling scream, as tears stream down his face. He strikes your face, pleas escape his mouth. Pleas to you, to a God he has long stopped believing in. His body shakes, his tears wetting your hair, as he holds you for one last time. 

=====

“Oh James,” Dr. Breynord grabs herself a tissue before handing Bucky the box of tissues. “I truly am so sorry to hear that. I want you to know that I am here to help you get happy again, and to heal.”

Bucky sighs and turns away from the doctor as he wipes his eyes. “You’re just like the rest of them. You didn’t listen to me.” 

Breynord was surprised that this was Bucky’s complaint. The other doctors had warned her that Bucky could be sarcastic, standoff-ish, and even flat-out rude to them. Breynord thought she did a good job listening to his story, what did she miss.

“I… I don’t think I understand what you mean, James.”

Bucky lets out a heartless, empty laugh, “you want me to be happy again. I’m never going to be. Not only do I have to live with the guilt of surviving, when she died, in my arms, but I’ll also never find another soul like hers. We had a connection, you know. It felt like we met before. When I held her in my arm, and her arms would wrap around me, it felt like I had the whole world in my arms. I didn’t need anything else when I had Y/N.” 

“So tell me doc, what’s the point of carrying on?”

[caitlesshea]

passed down like folk songs

4 times Nile hears Joe and Nicky tell a fake story of how they met + 1 time she hears them tell the real story.

1.

“We met at university.”

Nile pauses from where she’s sucking down her milkshake through a straw even in New York City winter because Chicago, when she smiles at whatever flowery love story Joe and Nicky are currently telling a bakery owner. 

“How lovely.” The owner says and then smiles at Joe’s humorous turn of events. 

Nile’s glad she made them take her to Max Brenner, even in this weather, because even though they aren’t tourists, she is. And neither one complained when she saw them greedily lap up the hot chocolate. 

She also saw Nicky eyeing a Hug Mug and she grabbed it before he noticed. Even though no one else celebrates Christmas, she does, so they’re all getting gifts.

“He was my English tutor.” Nicky says and Nile snorts, recalling both of their animated stories of their distaste for learning English when they did, hundreds of years ago.

“He was my best student.” 

And, Nile’s back to gagging. 

She loves them, she does. But there’s only so much poetic love she can hear them wax about each other before she tunes it out. 

She should’ve dragged Andy along with her, but her and Quynh opted to stay in their town home they’ve owned since the Industrial Revolution or something, and lord knows where Booker’s fucked off to. 

So, she’s walking around New York in November, so Joe and Nicky can go to their favorite bakery on the other side of the city from where their place is. 

“He really didn’t need any help with English.” Joe teases and Nicky smiles like this is a story they’ve told before. 

“Nope. We’ve been married for eight years now.” Nicky says to the owner, who squeals loudly. 

They end up leaving the bakery with more pastries than they paid for, much to Joe’s delight. 

“Eight years, huh?”

“It has been eight years since our last wedding.” Nicky says and Nile’s eyes bug out of her head.

“Wait, you’re actually married?”

They both stare at her like she’s lost her mind and she doesn’t know why she thought they weren’t.

“We’ve been married for a long time. Different places, different names, different countries.” Joe shrugs and grabs Nicky’s hand as they continue their walk. 

Nile pulls another bit of milkshake through her straw and follows after them. 

2.

“Your friend is very hot.” The woman, Anya, smirks at Nile as she gestures over her shoulder.

“Who?” Nile asks incredulously because for one quick moment she wants to answer with I don’t have friends but she knows that’s not exactly true so she just gapes at Anya with her mouth open. 

Anya, the daughter of their mark, who Nile is supposed to be getting to know, just points rudely towards Joe.

“Are you lovely ladies talking about me?” Joe slides up to Nile and puts an arm over her shoulders.

“No.” Nile says at the exact same time Anya says yes.

Anya smacks Nile’s arm playfully and smirks at Joe.

“I was just telling Nile how attractive you are.” 

Nile stares at Anya wondering when she got so bold and then looks at Joe who’s smiling and blushing, which she didn’t think was possible.

“Why thank you. But I am happily taken.” 

As if summoned by Joe mentioning he’s taken, Nicky comes over and places a hand on the small of Joe’s back as he separates from Nile.

Anya is pouting but Nicky just smiles.

“Were you talking about me, love?”

“I was just about to tell Anya how we met skiing in the Alps on vacation.” Joe turns to look at Anya and continues. “My Nico is not the most coordinated and he got his skis tangled and once we realized he was okay I asked him to join me in the lodge and we had hot coco in front of the fire. He still makes fun of my love for mini marshmallows.” 

Nile smirks at the story, knowing that some of it is probably true and when she turns back to Anya she notices what only can be described as heart eyes.

“That is the sweetest story.” Anya gushes and just as she’s about to go on, her father, their mark, walks up and smiles at her.

“Darling. Who are you friends?” 

As Anya introduces them Nicky turns to her and winks.

Yeah. They’ve definitely told that story before.

3.

“Do you wanna dance?”

Nile turns at the question and comes face to face with the most attractive woman she’s ever seen. 

“I’m Nile.” Nile blurts out unintelligently and the beautiful woman laughs and Nile’s fucked.

“I’m Frankie.” The woman, Frankie, smiles and leans closer to Nile. “Dance with me?”

Nile nods as she finishes her drink and turns in time to catch Joe’s smirk. She rolls her eyes and lets Frankie pull her out to the dance floor.

They’re in London, because Booker needed to be here for something he couldn’t say, but right now Nile doesn’t care. She convinced Joe and Nicky that they needed a night off and they let her drag them to a club. 

She’s forever grateful they agreed. 

She lets Frankie grab her hips and pull them flush together and after a couple of songs Nile feels want like she hasn’t since she died in the desert. 

“Your friends are staring at us.” Frankie whispers in her ear and it pulls Nile out of the moment.

“Huh?”

“Your friends. They’re protective?”

“Oh.” Nile tugs on the belt loops of Frankie’s jeans. “Yeah.”

“Introduce me to them.”

“What?”

“I want to meet your friends.” Nile looks at Frankie incredulously because really? 

“Kiss me.” Nile says instead. 

So Frankie kisses her and Nile ends up dragging her to meet Joe and Nicky. 

“Joe. Nicky. This is Frankie.” Nile introduces them as she steals Nicky’s drink right out of his hand. He scoffs and smiles so she knows he’s not mad.

“How do you know Nile?” Frankie asks them like they didn’t all meet tonight. Nile would find this weird but she’s immortal so what even is her life?

“Nile and I met at work.” Joe answers. “But I brought my husband to a work party and I’m pretty sure he stole my best friend.” 

Nile’s breath catches in her throat. She knows Joe’s telling a story and she knows they’re friends but something about the way he says best friend makes her heart clench. 

“And how did you meet your husband?” Frankie asks as she slides closer to Nile.

Nile assumes she’s being nice, trying to get to know them, but the cynical part of her that has only grown more and more since she became immortal wonders why Frankie is asking all of these questions.

“Oh, it wasn’t much different than this.” Joe gestures to the club and even though Nile knows it’s a lie her eyes still bug out of her head. 

“Really?” Nile squeaks and Joe smiles.

“Yes, although I think it was called a speakeasy. The one we met at had a dress code and everything. Fedoras, suspenders, the whole nine. Nico was very dashing.” 

Nicky smiles at Joe as he kisses him quickly, once, and then turns back to them. 

“He bought me a drink and the rest as they say is history.” 

Nile chuckles and Frankie seems enraptured by them and Nile gets it, she does, but she tugs Frankie back onto the dance floor. 

Later Frankie puts her number in Nile’s burner phone and Nile throws it on the ground and crushes it with her boot.

4.

“Did Dr. Jones tell you I introduced him to his husband?” Luca, the curator at the museum they’re canvassing asks.

“No, I don’t think so.” Nile smirks and Joe rolls his eyes.

“He didn’t introduce us so much as we met when I was helping curate one of the museum exhibits. Nico, as you know, is a photographer and he was hired to take photos before the opening.” Joe smiles like he’s replaying a pleasant memory. 

“Love at first sight?” Nile teases and Joe and Luca laugh.

“Seemed like they couldn’t stand each other at first.” Luca smirks and Nile raises an eyebrow at Joe who just shrugs.

“We figured it out eventually.” Joe turns to her and Nile knows the moment Nicky walks into the room because Joe’s gaze has left Nile and is now focused over her head. 

“Practice makes perfect.” Nile mumbles and Luca smiles at her as Joe leaves them to go stand next to Nicky.

+1

“Hurry up!” Joe calls after them as Nile, Andy, and Quynh cross the street to catch up to them.

Nile pulls her scarf tighter around her neck to keep the chill away. It’s New Years Eve and they’re back in London, because Booker, and they’re trying to beat the crowds out of the city to get back to Copley’s. 

They’re about to jump onto the sidewalk when Nile hears it; tires skidding, a sickening crunch, and Booker’s ear piercing scream. 

“James!” 

That’s new. 

Before Nile can even process what’s happened, the car is speeding away and Joe is trying to grab Booker by the shoulders while Andy and Quynh land on the pavement next to a woman, unconscious on the ground, body twisted in an unnatural way.

“Nile.” Nicky takes her by the shoulders and steers her away from Copley, lying on the ground, blood pooling around him, and the woman, who it looks like he was trying to save. 

Booker is inconsolable and suddenly London makes a lot more sense. 

“Booker.” Nile goes to say as she steps around Nicky and stops in her tracks when she sees the woman.

“Frankie.” Nile falls onto the pavement unconcerned with her jeans getting soaked as she gently touches Frankie’s face. 

She wants to scream, she wants to cry, she wants to blame this universe for all that is unfair. 

Booker’s hiccupping sobs cut through most of her inner turmoil as she turns to Andy and Quynh.

“We need…” Nile clears her throat. “We have to call the police.” 

“Nile.” Nicky’s voice is soft and she turns sharp eyes on him. 

She’s about to argue with him when there’s a loud gasp as Copley shoots awake right into Booker’s arms. 

“Sébastien.” Copley whispers as Booker starts crying in earnest now, mumbling in French, as Joe holds both of them. 

“We have to get off the street.” Nicky says quietly.

“We can’t leave her.” Nile grabs Frankie’s hand, the woman she spent a half a night with, and knows she can’t leave her alone.

“Nile.” Andy tries to placate her.

“No.” Nile stares Andy down. “No.” 

“Frankie.” Copley crawls over to her and Nile’s eyes widen and she’s about to ask how he knows her when Frankie gasps awake and turns to cough up blood.

“Shit.” Frankie says as she grabs her head and watches in abject fascination as her legs heal. 

Nile has just a moment to catch Frankie before she passes out and hits her head on the pavement.

“Now can we get out of here?” Andy asks exasperated and everyone nods as Nile picks Frankie up.

Back at Copley’s, hours later, Frankie listens as Joe and Nicky explain everything to her. 

Nile wants to comfort her, wants to know if this is why she felt drawn to her before, months ago. 

She has so many questions but they can wait until Frankie asks all of hers. Luckily Copley doesn’t have many, and he and Booker are cuddled on the couch together.

“Nicky and I met in the Crusades.” Joe says cheerfully, and Nile’s thrown back to the church almost a year ago when she heard the same story. 

In retrospect, it probably shouldn’t have taken her almost a year to figure it out. 

“We killed each other.” Joe jokes as he winks at Nicky.

“Many times.” Nicky smiles at Joe but Nile can see what she now knows isn’t just an underlying sadness of hurting his love, but the battle he wages within himself, nearly a millennium later, thinking he’s still not worthy, that he’ll never be able to repent for those sins he made outside of Jerusalem. 

“They never get to tell the real story.” Nile says quietly to Andy. 

“Real story?”

“Of how they met. I mean before tonight they maybe told it three times? You and Quynh, Booker, me.”

“Ah. Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“That must be really hard.” 

“They have fun with it.” Andy shrugs as she looks over at Quynh.

“I’ve heard some of the stories.”

“They’re not just stories.” At Nile’s questioning glance Andy continues. “I mean most of the things have happened, they just leave out the part where they already know each other.”

“Huh.” Nile thinks back to all the stories she’s heard them tell of how they met or how they got together and her heart aches that they’ve only been able to share the real version a handful of times.

“You’ll be able to have your own stories someday.” Andy nudges her and she looks over at Frankie.

“We met at a club.” Nile smiles at the memory. 

“Yeah, but tonight is when you really met. And someday they’ll be another to share it with.” 

That makes sense and Nile smiles at the possibilities. 

“So, Copley, are you gonna tell us why you were meeting up with a CIA analyst?” Joe asks Copley and Nile watches both Copley and Booker look at Frankie and then Copley gets up and goes toward his office.

“I was gonna tell everyone tomorrow.” Copley says as he leans against Booker, who pulls him closer to his side. 

Copley drops a file down on the table and Joe and Nicky open it. 

Nicky quickly loses all the color in his cheeks and stares at Frankie with something akin to awe.

“Is this real?” Joe asks and Copley nods.

“She’s a descendant of Nicky’s. We worked together before I left the agency and since I can never let anything go…” Copley trails off. “I got in touch and she said she was interested in her ancestry. I was gonna tell you what I found before I brought her in but well…”

Frankie looks around at everyone and then she makes her way over to Nile. 

“Hi.” Frankie says quietly to Nile as everyone else in the room starts talking over each other.

“Hi.” Nile says as they sway closer together.

“Is this why you never texted me?”

“Yes.” Nile breathes and Frankie smiles. 

“I forgive you.” 

“Oh you do?” Nile teases her and Frankie smirks before turning back to the rest of the room. 

Nicky has a strange look on his face and Frankie turns her questioning gaze to Nile. 

“He’s trying to figure out which one of us to give the shovel talk to.” Nile smirks and Joe laughs with his whole body as Nicky winks. 

“Is he?” Frankie smirks and tugs Nile impossibly closer. 

“Yeah.” Nile breathes against Frankie’s mouth before she closes the distance and kisses her.

“Let’s give him something to talk about.” 

This is a story Nile can’t wait to share.

[definitelyseven]

it was always you

summary: in a twisted turn of events, you find yourself naked in the bed of your best friend, Mark Tuan

one (m) | two | three (m) | four | five (m) | six | seven (m) | eight (m) | nine | ten - final | epilogue - one (m) | epilogue - two |

Sana had asked to go home with you to pick up some stuff she had in Mark’s room. You were now sitting awkwardly in the front seat with JB, who was still playing the role of your sweet boyfriend.

“When did you guys start dating?” You kept your head down, not really knowing how to respond.

“Not long, just a couple of weeks,” JB said grabbing your hand in your lap.

“I wish you told me earlier! We could’ve made you best man and maid of honor. It would’ve been so cute,” Sana squealed happily.

“That’s not necessary,” you said turning to look at her in the back. “We’re happy as groomsmen and bridesmaid,” you tell her, giving her a fake smile.

Sana and you stood awkwardly in the elevator; watching each floor past. It’s not that you didn’t want to welcome Sana inside, you didn’t want her to see how messy the house was. Take out containers, unwashed dishes, and opened snacks left all over the house. This was all the aftermath of Mark’s text. You opened the door to your share apartment and tried to bolt straight to your bedroom. 

“Y/N” Sana calls. You quietly groaned to yourself, not really wanting to entertain her. “The house is a mess!” Sana says as she begins to gather the dirty dishes towards the sink.

“You don’t have to do that,” you tell her grabbing the dishes away from her. “I’m tired. Can you lock the door on your way out?”

“There’s something I want to talk to you about.” 

You watched Sana make her way to the couch, sitting down.

“What is it?” you asked her nervous. Sana patted the seat next to her, motioning you to sit down. You obliged and sat down.

“I don’t know how to say it so I’m just going to say it,” Sana said grabbing your hand. “I know about you and Mark.” 

You heart felt like it sank to the bottom of your stomach. Your vision blurred and it felt like the walls were caving in beside you - it felt like it was about to crumble and suffocate you.

“Y/N,” she calls out, slightly shaking you. “Y/N, breathe!” You turn to look at her, eyes already clouding with tears. You let a loud sigh as if you were reminding yourself to breathe. Your whole body shaking.

“Sana, I-,” you wanted to speak but no words came out. No matter how you explained it, you were wrong. No words can make it better - it wasn’t an accident, it wasn’t only once, you wanted it to happen. You betrayed her. 

“It’s okay,” Sana says giving your hand a small squeeze. You let out a frustrated sigh.

“No, no it’s not Sana!” you said flicking her hand away from yours and getting up. “It’s not okay! You should be mad, you should hate me,” you said angrily as tears flowed down your cheeks.

“Y/N, listen to me!” she said pulling you back down to sit next to her. “Is it silly for me to say, I always knew he would choose you.” 

You hated the fact that she was still so understanding. You wanted her to hate you so that you could feel better, but her being so nice just made you feel even more guilty.

You buried your face in your hands, ashamed to look at her. “How did you know?” 

“Remember your birthday?” you looked up at her. “Since I couldn’t make it, I was going to stop by to give you your present.”

“You were here that night?” Sana nods. “Why didn’t you stop us?” you began to sob.

“I was so mad I stormed out,” Sana paused, her eyes softening. “But I thought about it, maybe I was the one intruding in your relationship.”

“Sana, stop being nice to me! I’m the slut that slept with your boyfriend!” Sana laughs. “Why are you laughing?”

“What you did was wrong, and yes it hurt. But what you have done for me, bringing Mark and I together, you gave me years of happiness that I never imagined myself getting. At the end of the day, he wants me to be his wife.” Sana reminded you. “How can I be mad?” 

“Does he know?” 

“No, and I don’t want him to know that I know. I don’t want us walking on eggshells if he’s going to be my husband” How can someone possibly be so understanding? “You have JB now, right? It all worked out.” 

If only she knew, it was all a lie.

“Promise me something?” Sana asked. 

“Anything”

“Promise me you’ll still be my bridesmaid. Promise me you and Mark are over. Promise me you’ll never sleep with him again - for me, for our baby.” Sana said rubbing her belly.

God she was right. The baby can’t be born into a broken family.

“Sana, I’m so sorry. I promise,” you looked down at your hands, afraid to ask her what’s on your mind.

“I forgive you,” Sana said pulling you in for a hug. “And by no means does it mean you can’t remain friends with Mark, just don’t sleep with him.”

“I don’t deserve you,” you said hugging her back. 

“Be good to JB.”

--

It’s been weeks since Sana broke the news to you about Mark’s affair. You and Mark decided it was best if you kept your distance till after the wedding. This was for everyone’s good, especially Sana. The only time you actually saw Mark was when you were doing bridesmaids duties and that was about to end. The wedding was in a couple of days and tonight was Mark’s bachelor party.

You admit you wouldn’t have been doing such a good job about keeping your distance if it wasn’t for JB. Every moment you had to share with Mark and Sana, he was there by your side, comforting you, cheering you. Tonight was no different.

“You don’t have to be here. I’ll be fine,” you tell JB as he took a seat on a chair by the kitchen island. 

“You don’t want me to be here?”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s Mark’s bachelor party, you should be there.” 

“Ahh, we were never close so I can show up late. He only made me a groomsmen because of Sana. To be honest, I never liked him anyways,” you rolled your eyes.

You had to be honest, having JB by your side made everything better, made everything bearable.

“Why are you doing all this?” you asked taking a seat next to him. “Being all nice to the slut that slept with your cousin’s fiancé.”

“It’s not obvious?” you shook your head slowly, taking a sip of water. “I like you,” he said blatantly making you choke on water. “Oh come on, don’t act so surprise.”

“But...”

“You didn’t notice me until that night at the club, but I always knew who you were.” JB turned his chair to face you. He moved you to face him too. “I was one quarter short at the vending machine in university and you handed me one. The moment I laid eyes on you, I knew I liked you,” he chuckles to himself.

“I-I don’t remember that.”

“Of course you don’t. It was always him.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you tell him.

“I was hoping something like I like you too,” you chuckled nervously. 

“It’s not that I don’t like you...” you said looking at him directly. “It’s just not the right timing,” you explained, getting up. JB grabs your hand, pulling you back to sit down.

“Give me a chance.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to you. I’d be lying if I said I was over him,” you whispered.

“I don’t care.”

“You should. It’s not fair to you, don’t you get it? You saved me when I needed someone the most. It was like I was drowning and you became my life buoy. But what happens when I learn how to swim and I no longer need a buoy. What if that happened?”

“If it means that I could be with you, even just until you learn how to swim, I’m happy with that.”

God, what is with this family? They’re overflowing with kindness and optimistism. 

JB cups your cheeks in his hands. “Please give me a chance,” he said as he leans in, his lips close to yours. “Please,” he whispered against your lips as you nodded kissing him back.

You knew it was wrong to kiss him back when you were still thinking about Mark, but you can’t help it. It was nice to have someone give you all their attention. It wasn’t like you didn’t like JB, you did. He was a great friend and all relationships begin with friendship.

You could feel JB smile in between the kiss as he pulled you closer. You had to admit you missed being held by a man. You pulled away from him blushing and led him to the couch. He sat down and pulled you onto his lap. JB pulls you in for another kiss. This time much more passionate and hungry than the first. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself closer to his body, His hands roamed up and down your thighs. You could feel your panties sticking to your core. You combed your hand through his thick hair and tugged on it lightly, earning a small nibble on your bottom lip. You moaned in pleasure. JB moves down to your neck, leaving a trial of red marks. He grazes his teeth on your collar bone, giving it one last suck before moving his hand to your skirt, inching closer and closer to your core. He was so close to your wet pussy, but he purposely avoids it - teasing you. He strokes his thumbs over your panties, just above the area you wanted to be touched the most. 

“Touch me...” you begged, giving his bottom lip a small suck before pulling away.

“Now what’s the fun in that?” JB smirks, pulling your panties upward making your panties rub against your own clit. You let out a loud moan. “What was that baby?” he asks again, pulling your panties further up. This was the only friction JB allowed and it was driving crazy. You started to moving your hips up and down against nothing. “Tsk...tsk...look at you so desperate to be touch.”

“Y-yes...please touch me JB.”

“Who?” JB asked grazing his thumb up and down the wet patch on your panties. 

“D-daddy,” you muttered, desperate.

“That’s my girl,” JB said ripping your panties apart. You squealed not expecting him to tear it. “Look at you dripping wet, did I do this?” JB asked running his finger up and down the center of your pussy, gathering the juices and sticking it in his mouth. “Come on baby, you know what to do,” JB says tapping his thigh. JB’s dominant personality turned you on even more. You shifted to straddle his thick thighs. The rough pattern on his jeans made you move even quicker. You held onto his shoulder as you grind your hips on his thigh. JB was busy working on your breast - massaging and sucking on it. 

“I’m close,” you whispered. JB lifts you off his lap, making you stand in front of him still fully clothed. You watched JB remove his jeans, tossing it across the room. You could see his hard cock poke against his boxers. You licked your lips. 

“Be good for daddy and take your clothes off,” he commanded and you did what was told. You slowly removed your top, tossing it across the room. You turned away from him and slowly removed your skirt, showing him your ass. 

God, it felt good to be touched again. 

You turned back around to face him and watched him stroke his dick. It was your turn now. You knelt down in front of him, your face aligned directly across from his cock. You licked your lips. “Tell me what you want me to do.”

“Suck daddy’s cock,” he said pulling his boxers down, exposing his hard cock. You pointed one finger on his cock, right on the slit and dragged his pre-cum down his cock to his balls.

“Have you ever touched yourself thinking about me?” JB nodded running his finger through your hair. “Have I ever made you cum?” He nods again. You moaned lightly thinking about him cumming. You wrapped your hands around his hard cock, pumping it up and down. His grip on your hair tightened as he thrusted upwards. You lick your lips once more before taking him whole in your mouth. You laid his cock on top of your tongue, licked it up and down before giving it a big suck. You released it, making a loud pop sound as if you were sucking a lollipop - your eyes never leave his gaze.

“Y/N...” JB moans gripping your hair tighter. You opened your mouth wider, shoving his cock all the way in, hitting the back of your throat; you gagged which JB seemed to like. He picks up the pace himself and begins thrusting into your mouth, motioning you to move up and down his cock faster. You continue to gag on his cock as saliva escaped your mouth. He finally pulls away. You smirked looking up at him with saliva still dripping down your chin. “Look at the mess,” JB said wiping your chin. You got up and pushed him back on the couch, straddling him. 

“Daddy,” you called out rubbing your drenched pussy on his now swollen cock. “Can you feel how wet I am?” you whispered in his ear, moving your pussy up and down his cock. Your juices mixing together. 

“Go ahead, take daddy’s cock.” 

You smiled and sank down on his cock, taking him whole at one time. The both of you let out a moan. His hands instinctively grabs your ass. You spread your legs further apart, closing the space between your pussy and his pelvis. Your clit rubbed against his pelvis making you moan. JB grasps your hips roughly, helping you move with him. 

“Fuck me harder,” you begged. JB lifts you up off his lap and lays you on the couch. He moves your legs above your head, exposing your lower body.

“Your wish is my command,” he said before thrusting hard into you. You let out a loud moan as you held onto the side of the couch, trying to keep yourself from falling off the couch. Each thrust made your body numb with pleasure. He knew all the right places to hit. “You always this tight?” JB moaned, rubbing your pussy. 

“It’s a gift,” you smirked, clenching around him to tease. He moans again. 

“Keep doing that and I’ll make sure you can’t walk tomorrow,” he threatens which brings out the brat in you. You clenched again, this time holding it even longer making the both of you moan. JB pulls out of you and flips you on your stomach. You get on all fours, sticking your ass out for him. “That’s my girl, let daddy see your wet pussy.” JB traces his finger up and down your pussy, teasing you by briefly sticking his finger in you and then quickly taking it out. You moaned. He spread your put cheeks apart, examining your ass and pussy. You gasped as you felt his lips on your core, nibbling and sucking on your clit. You moaned arching your back in pleasure. JB runs his hand down your arched back and back down your ass. You felt your core throb and you instinctively reached for your own clit, trying to get more pleasure. JB grabs onto your hand, refraining you from moving. “Be a good girl,” he whispered before he thrust roughly into you. You threw your head back, moaning. JB’s pace becomes sloppy as he abused your pussy repeatedly. You knew you were going to be sore tomorrow, but you liked how rough he was being.

You could feel yourself close and he was too. His hand reaches for your clit, rubbing it vigorously. You moaned once again from the overstimulation. You began to tremble with pleasure. JB feels you clenched around him and pushes his cock further into you. He slaps your pussy; a mix of pain and pleasure overwhelms you. “Do that again,” you begged. JB slaps your pussy again and again until its burning hot, aching in pain. His last slap pushed you over the edge and the both of you came together - feeling his hot seed fill you up. You continued to clench your pussy, trying to make the orgasm last as long as it could. The both of you still moaning and breathing heavily. You body continued to pulsate even after cumming. Still inside you, JB holds you close to his body. He pulls you down for a kiss. The both of you let out a sigh of satisfaction. 

He slowly pulls out of you and whispers, “Be a good girl and hold all that in for me.” You nodded as he walked away to the bathroom. He came back with a towel and helped you clean up. You and JB put your clothes back on and rested on the couch; he held you close to him.

“JB, I...” you called out.

“You don’t have to explain. It’s okay.”

“No, I do.” you said sitting up.

“Just because we had sex, it doesn’t mean you’re obligated to like me anymore than you did before. I get it. You need time,” he pulls you back into his arms. “I have time.”

“Thank you,” you said wrapping your arms around him. 

“Listen, I should probably head out to the bachelor party. If you’re still awake when it’s over, I can stop by.”

“I’d like that.” JB smiled, leaning down to kiss you before leaving. Maybe moving on wasn’t so bad after all.

After a couple of hours, you were starting to doze off on the couch. It was already 2am. You turned off the TV and was about to head to bed when the doorbell rang. 

You were surprised to see who was on the other side, “Mark?”

a note from jennie: many of you responded on how you saw this ending in the last episode. how about now? 

a lot of readers left me messages about requests, it is always open, and i will always do my best to get to it, but i can’t guarantee it will be right away or the next day you submit a request. a fair warning that i am only writing about got7 at the moment and i only feel comfortable writing smut for the hyung line as they are older than me.

check out my masterlist and my other series, liability

[buggiesbuzzing]

AMARANTH [ c. cullen ]

TITLE :: Amaranth

CHAPTER ZERO :: The Beginning of the End

PAIRING :: Carlisle Cullen x reader, various x reader

GENRE :: Drama

SUMMARY :: Once leading a life of what she seen as relative normality, a sudden change sends poor y/n into a disastrous spiral.

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MASTERLIST

Y/n had a normal life, as normal as she could possibly have, and she was happy with the mediocrity. She was rather successful; she was getting married soon, she was working as the personal assistant to a regional manager for some big corporate business and made good money — hell, she even made an effort to reconnect with her parents, before they passed away, that is — she even planned on going to college after getting married so she could pursue a career as a pediatrician. But, of course, life hardly ever goes as planned.

Her life came crashing down towards the beginning of January, during her bachelorette party with a few of her close friends. At first, she hated the idea of having a bachelorette party, but after endless pestering, her friends convinced her to go to a club with them. However, Y/n happened to more introverted and somehow came up with an excuse to hang out in the empty alley behind the club for a breather, and sneaking a secret smoke. She lit the tobacco and inhaled the chemicals, her lungs stinging since she'd abstained from cigarettes for a while. She knew they were toxic to her health, but in overly stressful situations, she would break out the ol' cancer sticks for a bit of relief.

The cool night breeze sent shivers down her spine. She was not wearing the most comfortable winter outfit. Quite frankly, she was freezing her tits off at the chill. The outfit she was in was a pretty small dress with a pair of black boots, revealing a lot of skin, which was borrowed from one of her friends’ closet.

Her cigarette had almost completely burned out when she heard some gravel being kicked around while feet quietly shuffled around on the ground. She became slightly paranoid at the thought of someone being in close proximity to her. She dropped the cigarette butt and stomped out the faltering flame, picking it back up once it was out and tossing it in an outdoor trash bin. When she turned back to see if an animal was causing the little noises, but she was met with a man who had stunningly pale skin and blond hair held up in a ponytail. She was terrified, and her eyes scanned him, looking for any sign of familiarity. Alas, she found none. He was wearing a pair of jeans, but no shirt, which she found strange, especially because it was January and there were flurries of snow falling to the ground.

Y/n had no idea what was going on, but couldn't help the small, scared whimper that she let out when he clamped his cold hand around her mouth with fast, bruising force, ensuring that she couldn't scream out for help. Tears streamed down her cheeks as he sunk his rather sharp teeth into her clavicle. She was terrified, she could only see a glint of red in his eye, before a rush of intense pain coursed through her veins. The blond pulled away from her neck, a bit of red liquid dripping from the corner of his mouth. She choked out a sob and fell to the ground once his hand left her jaw, bare knees hitting the rough, loose gravel.

The doors of the club opened, to reveal a couple of Y/n's girlfriends, worriedly chattering; the stranger darted off, not wanting to be caught. She struggled to stay conscious, her vision becoming worse by the second, black dots spotting her surroundings. She squeaked out a small "help" before collapsing on the ground entirely, the ache still running through her body.

The girls panicked, seeing their dear friend fall unconscious in their peripherals, turning and running toward her. At first, they thought she was a goner, but one of them thought to pull out a small mirror from their purse and stuck it below her nose. Although it was minor, her breathing caused a slight fog on the mirror, letting them know she wasn't dead yet. They let out sighs of relief and did their best to pick up their friend, but the heels they chose to wear were no help to them. Instead of attempting to lug her out and flag down a cab, they focused on trying to find out exactly what happened and who they had to kill for causing this.

One of the girls, Stephanie, looked her up and down, seeing if she had any injuries, and came across a large, bleeding wound on her neck that looked like a bite if you squinted. Stephanie pointed out the spot to the other girl, Lisa, while she fished a makeup wipe out of her purse. She used a wipe to clean up the injury, but Y/n hissed in pain as the wipe made contact with an open part of the wound.

Y/n's eyes opened, and she took a moment to regain herself, pressing her back against the wall of the building. "I. . . I'm gonna go home." She grumbled, bending down to pick up her clutch.

"Are you kidding, Y/n? You need to go to the hospital! That thing on your neck is disgusting!" Stephanie was shocked, she was clearly concerned about the wound, but Y/n didn't seem to care as much.

Lisa chimed in, "It could get infected if you don't get it treated, Y/n, you should have it checked out."

The corner of Y/n's mouth twitched upwards, a weak smile appearing. "Steph, Lis, I can take care of this, it's nothing," It was definitely not nothing. She could feel an ache all throughout her veins and her head felt like it was about to explode. Y/n didn't want them to worry, she knew them all too well and she knew that if the weirdo who bit her gave her some disease they wouldn't stop blaming themselves. "I'll go home, get some bandages and antibiotic ointment, then I'll be good as new. Don't worry."

The girls, very reluctantly, let her go — trusting her instead of arguing with their stubborn friend. "Do you want me to come with? I can help, it's kind of an awkward spot to be fixing up on your own." Stephanie offered.

Y/n shook her head and politely murmured, "No thanks, Steph." They respected her wishes and headed back inside while she caught a cab driving by.

It took only about fifteen minutes for the cab to get her home, opposed to the usual twenty — the driver had seen the dried blood that had stained her skin and decided that it would be best to get there as fast as he could. She thanked the man and paid her fare, plus a hefty tip, before stumbling into her home. It was around midnight when she decided to stop waiting on her fiancé, Tyler, to get home since he was working late, yet again. She dressed her wound in bandages and took some pain killers along with a shot of whiskey to dull the ache, then retired to bed.

The next morning, she felt nothing but the raging pain of her blood coursing through her veins like poison. She swallowed it down with a few shots of hard liquor and her daily medicine. The entire day she was on edge, always looking over her shoulder. She took the day off from work, but her husband hadn't; something about extra paperwork to file before dinner. His parents were coming over to celebrate their engagement over dinner, and although Y/n wasn't feeling good, she wasn't going to up and cancel.

Instead of making a meal, Y/n called a nearby Japanese catering company, ordering a few plates of assorted sushi rolls to be delivered by four o'clock. She didn't worry over the cost, but rather plopped down on the couch, trying to rest before she'd have to deal with her to-be in-laws.

She must've lost track of time because before she knew it, there was a knock at the door, and she was mindlessly getting up to open it. There stood an awkward-looking teen with a few insulated cases in hand. "Ms. L/n?" In response, she nodded and he gestured to a receipt sitting on top of the boxes. "Sign on the dotted line," The delivery boy pulled a blue pen out of his pocket and handed it to her, which she took with hesitation. She signed for the food and took the boxes. "Have a nice day!" He spoke quickly as she shut the door.

"Why can I still smell him? He smells like Frito's dipped in guac," Y/n grimaced, however, the stench made her hungry. "Whatever, I can dig in once they're here." She sighed.

Only moments passed before the door opened, revealing her soon-to-be husband, Tyler, and his parents. Tyler took it upon himself to set the table and help his parents settle in for their stay. Y/n stood in the bathroom, observing her neck and shoulder — whatever used to be there was now but a faint ring mark. Unfortunately, that didn't mean her pain stopped. Thankfully, she had a higher tolerance than most, and a bit of liquor helped.

They were part-way through dinner, and Y/n was picking at her second California roll. She could just barely stand the scents her nose was taking in — and the sushi wasn't the cause. She could separate the smells too; one of them smelt like rotting pears, another was a variation of sour wine, and the final one was by far the one that made her hunger plunge deeper — it was floral, and yet bitter. The sushi was no longer of any interest to Y/n; those smells, though, they were mouthwatering.

"Oh, dear, Y/n," Tyler's mother, Jill, started. "I just don't understand why you couldn't have made the food yourself; then again, you've always been quite a lazy lady." The last part was more of a reminder to herself but still, hurt Y/n nonetheless.

Y/n smiled, but everyone could tell it was fake, and there was nothing but pure rage behind it. "Oh, Jillian, you always critique my cooking skills anyways, so I thought why not save you the trouble and just get food elsewhere." Bitterness seeped from every word she spoke as she glared daggers at Tyler's monster of a mum.

"How thoughtful." The father, Wayne, added, shoving a spicy tuna roll down his gullet.

Jill obviously wasn't happy with the retort and turned to her beloved son. "I can't see why you didn't try to get with that Jessy girl at your office, she was an absolute sweetie; but I guess you like the sour bunch."

Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, if I were in your situation, I'd take the bait," He paused, taking a bite of another sushi roll before speaking up again. "Put in some extra hours, if you know what I mean." He spat, a piece of rice shooting out on his mouth and onto Y/n's nearby plate. Tyler let out a nervous laugh, looking towards his fianceé.

As she got angrier, the smells got more intense and the sound of rhythmic beating and rushing liquid filled her ears. She snapped her eyes shut so she could try to focus, but she just couldn't. Tyler attempted to bring her out of her pained expression with aggressive shoulder tapping, he was met with a push with massive force behind it. Said push sent him hurtling backward into a wall, causing his body to leave a hole in its place before he fell to the ground. Wayne stood up in shock, confused at what had just happened, and something had completely taken Y/n over.

No longer could she ignore her hunger, or the pent up fury within her. She leapt at Wayne, smacking his head against the wall harshly, before looking at Jill, who was going through her purse desperately looking for her Blackberry.

"No phones at the table, Jill." Y/n hissed before, kicking the leg of her chair, snapping the wooden block off, and making Jill fall to the floor.

To Jill, all hope was lost. Within seconds, Y/n fell to the floor and grabbed Jill's arm, biting it. The latter cried out, but Y/n quickly grabbed as much sushi as she could handle and shoved it into her mouth, muffling the screams.

Sharp and strong teeth replaced Y/n's former ones and she mercilessly sucked the blood from Jill's arm. Y/n's eyes had gone dark, and that was all Jill saw before she'd lost a large amount of blood and lost consciousness.

Y/n physically had to rip herself away from her would-be mother-in-law to prevent herself from draining the body completely. Once she had seen what was done, tears streamed down her face. Panic set in, and Y/n stood up and looked around at the mess she made.

Something felt off. Her hands wandered to her mouth, poking at her mouth to realize that her teeth felt much stronger than before and there was a thick layer of blood on her bottom lip. "Holy shit. . ." She gasped, scared of what idea came to mind. "Am I a fucking vampire?"

It sounded even more ridiculous out loud.

Her mind circled back to the blood dribbling down her chin and onto her blouse. What a shame. It was one of her favorites. How was she ever going to rid herself of this mess? This was her house, people in the neighborhood knew her, she would obviously be suspect number one and she had zero idea how to drop off the face of the earth.

Y/n's eyes shifted around the room, looking for some sort of sudden solution to her problems. Sushi, blood, candles, broken wood. . . Candles. . . Fire. She could burn the evidence. Her mind wandered back to the gas canister for her lawnmower; Tyler always kept it full so it would be there when he needed it. She rushed out to the garage, surprised at her speed, and retrieved the red can.

She poured gasoline on the floor, making sure the bodies were doused in the extremely flammable liquid. Let's be honest, if the bodies burnt enough, the police of this town probably wouldn't care enough to look too far into it — they'd most likely mark her off as deceased as well.

She had changed into a pair of thick spandex, a pair of comfortable sneakers, and a hoodie two sizes too large; and at the ripe, late time of '1:27 AM', Y/n snatched one of her lighters and her pack of cigarettes and went outside. She lit a cigarette and took a couple of moments to reminisce. She adored her house, but it could no longer be her home. She wouldn't be safe there, and she couldn't come back. She needed to be far, far away. She couldn't spend a second more there, so she took one last hit and flicked her lit cigarette through the door of the house and took off as flames spread through the house.

Hour, upon hour — they simply passed like minutes. It felt exhilarating to not be tired. She ran all night and the sun was starting to peek over the horizon, soft rays of light filtered through the crowds of trees. She was in a forest of some kind, and she had absolutely no idea where she was. After a couple of minutes of nothing but trees for miles, she stopped.

Somehow she felt absolutely no exhaustion from the obscene amount of physical work she'd just went through. She must've been at least a couple of states away, she should be safe.

tags :: @whattheheckisevengoingon​

[mork-lee-bee]

Broken Lovers III

Summary: Y/n is a hopeless romantic in love with someone who will never love her back and Jaehyun is helplessly in love with someone who only continues to hurt him over and over again, sounds like a match made in heaven right?

Pairings: CollegeStudent!Jaehyun X CollegeStudent!Y/N X CollegeStudent!Jaemin

Warnings: toxic relationships, toxic behavior, gas lighting, making you question your perception and memory, cursing but not excessively 

Genre: angst/fluff/smut

Word count: 1.8k

Masterlist

Previous

Next

It wasn’t a frigidly cold day for once which meant the walk across campus wasn’t horrible in fact it was almost nice except for the fact that it was six-forty five in the morning and Jaehyun was tired. His schedule only allowed for him to take this class as a seven in the morning one otherwise he would never have done it but sadly here he was up bright and early the sky had barely started to shift from the darkness into the light blue of the new day.

Jaehyun rubbed at his eyes before entering his class for today’s lecture and it was like clockwork as soon as he stepped into the class his phone started to buzz in his pocket. He paused causing the girl walking in behind him to let out an annoyed ‘HEY’.

“Sorry…” Jaehyun Mumbled stepping to the side to let the girl in while he slipped the phone out of his pocket to see the contact labeled Don’t answer that was the work of Yuta, of course, who insisted on blocking Heejin’s number but because of Jaehyun’s stubbornness opted to just change the contact name that used to say Beautiful Heejin.

The phone continued to buzz in his hand as he pushed his other hand through his hair trying to contemplate whether to answer or not. She hadn’t even attempted to call him in weeks she cut him off so coldly without any explanation.

“Shit,” He sighed before exiting out of the class and into the hall where most of the students awake walked like Zombies but Jaehyun suddenly felt so awake, his heart hammering out of his chest as he clicked the Answer button.

“J-Jae,” The voice on the other end of the phone, Heejin’s, broke up evidently crying. Jaehyun’s heart broke all over again at the sound of her voice.

“What do you want?” Jaehyun keeps his cool answering coldly trying not to attract the attention of people walking.

“I want to talk… what you heard wasn’t true- I would never hurt you…” She pleads almost sobbing into the phone as Jaehyun lets out a sigh.

“I can’t do this anymore Heejin, you’ve done nothing but hurt me,” Jaehyun raises his voice ever so slightly to let her know he’s not playing into her trap.

“Jaehyun y-you can’t be serious? We’ve been together for the past three years and you want to throw away all those happy memories because of one mistake-” her tone is ever so slightly shifting towards a more aggressive one as she becomes increasingly defensive over her actions.

“It wasn’t just once, this is the third time you’ve cheated on me, I’ve been trying to make it work with you for years and just when I think we’re in a good place you-” Jaehyun is quickly interrupted.

“So you’re just going to believe Yuta? You know he hates me and he has no evidence that I cheated, you know why? Because I didn’t. You know I would never do that to you, I honestly can’t believe you would just assume I cheated when you know I love you,” Heejin defends as Jaehyun pinches the bridge of his nose letting out a sigh.

“I can’t do this with you, I believe Yuta because he’s never shown any reason for me to not trust him,” Jaehyun is about to hang up the phone so he can get to his lecture but can’t seem to go through with ending the call.

“Please meet up with me,” Her tone takes a 180 from defensive to weak and fragile.

“I have class and I need time,” Jaehyun explains huffing out a sigh unable to make up his mind.

“Okay… I just want you to know that I would run back to you in a heartbeat I just hoped you’d do the same thing after everything we’ve been through…” and with that Jaehyun clicks the red button hanging up pushing his hair back out of his face with his free hand unsure of the conversation he had. He shouldn’t have answered in the first place but then again he wanted answers… But was it worth it? These are the thoughts going through his head as he enters his lecture distracted.

---

The professor’s voice becomes background noise after sitting down for about half an hour your mind finds interest elsewhere while you continue to take mindless notes you’d have to go over later. You regret signing up for a seven am class when so many people told you not to do it but you, of course, didn’t listen thinking it would be fine. 

The teacher wasn’t very expressive which you observed early on as he kept his hands by his side for the most part mainly speaking out, you got more expression from your dog at home than from your teacher but you couldn’t do anything. Your mind drifts off to thoughts that don’t revolve around the class, they go from fun childhood memories of you and Miyoung when you played out in front of your apartment complex laughing and screaming about how you were the queens of the world, then your mind drifts all the way to the first time you saw Jaemin. His relaxed posture and a breathtaking smile as he talked with his friend Jeno, that smile was enough to make your heart start doing somersaults and your brain to shut off for a moment. His hair was brown at that time and now was a stunning blue color that brought him a lot of attention.

“Hey, ____?” The girl next to you taps your shoulder as your thoughts become more focused and you give her a smile, Jennie is a sweet girl but is commonly intimidating to people who don’t know her.

“Yes?” You whisper back to her smiling as you continue to take notes she bites her lip a little hesitant but speaks anyways.

“I was just wondering how you know Jaehyun, I saw the two of you talking at the Neo house party,” She harmlessly asks and you shrug taking in a sigh.

“Oh… Ummm I mean I don’t really know him that well,” You admit not wanting to tell her ‘oh you know I don’t know him at all and it was a one night stand’.

“Really? You guys looked close so I assumed you knew each other,” She observed and you just silently think.

“Yeah, we’re just acquaintances,” You confirm turning back to your notes completely as the teacher continues on monotonously.

“Well, I’m glad he’s moving on,” The comment made you raise an eyebrow but not delve into it as it wasn’t any of your concern but you would be lying if you said you weren’t curious. You quickly refocused on the class though and put the conversation out of mind.

---

“Na Jaemin,” The barista working at Jaemin’s favorite small coffee shop, Neo Cafe, announces signaling his order is finished. Jaemin took his time though he was looking around the familiar coffee shop that smelled of fresh coffee and vanilla. There were fake vines hanging on the wall on one side of the shop away from the wide windows that people would occasionally glance through and allowed for some natural light to fill the small cafe. A couple sat in front of the windows smiling and talking quietly it wasn’t a busy afternoon which was nice.

“Thanks,” Jaemin smiles as he reaches out to grab his coffee from the girl working, she simply nods keeping her eyes trained on the counter looking downwards. So when Jaemin barely has a grip on the cup and she lets go it crashes onto the counter spilling. It gets all over Jaemin’s hoodie and the barista’s apron. The couple stops talking to look at what just happened a moment ago.

“I’m so sorry!” The girl’s eyes widen as she quickly runs and grabs a towel from the back to wipe up the mess, it’s starting to drip onto the floor on Jaemin’s side. The brown puddle kept growing so Jaemin made an attempt to help by grabbing some paper towels that were on the side and bending down to help.

“You don’t have to do that, it’s my fault the drink is ruined,” The girl tells Jaemin as she furrows her eyebrows angry with herself clearly.

“It’s okay…” Jaemin looks towards the girl’s name tag that hanging on her shirt, it’s a bit askew and also covered in coffee but he can make it out.

“____,” Jaemin smiles as he throws the paper towels into a nearby trashcan while ____ cleans up the counter.

“I’ll make you a new one free of charge,” The barista tells him, and before he can say anything she’s already getting started making his drink.

“You’re sweet,” Jaemin comments which causes the barista pause for a moment before continuing to make his drink.

“Thanks, you know, for not being mad I ruined your drink,” The barista, ____, touches the back of her neck before bringing over his drink this time with two hands.

“You must really enjoy a strong coffee,” The girl points out because he ordered a coffee with a bunch of espressos shots.

“This is only my first, you should see me after my sixth,” He smiles and the girl’s eyes go wide again in shock, he thought it was cute that she had a doe in the headlights sort of look as he looks over her face.

“How are you living?” The girl jokes leaning over the counter while they talk as there were no new customers to attend to.

“I don’t know,” Jaemin smiles taking a sip of his coffee while they continue to talk, Jaemin not even bothering to help his coffee-stained hoodie. 

“So what were we talking about?” ____ asks after she finishes with a customer and gives them their coffee pushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

“Photography,” Jaemin smiles as he pulls up his very aesthetic photography Instagram profile to show her, there’s a lot of scenery pictures but also people ones scattered here and there.

“Wow, you’re really talented,” she gapes in awe scrolling through the countless photos.

“It’s al about technique angles and lighting, hey you should come to the photography club one of these days, I’m the president,” Jaemin smiles proudly.

“Sure, but you’ll have to show me because I literally know nothing about photography,” She points out handing the phone back to him.

“Yeah definitely, let me get your number,” Jaemin smiles handing the phone back over again but she gives him a wink.

“I already put my number in,” Jaemin’s turn to be surprised this time as he raises his eyebrows before tilting his head and scrolling through his contacts and sure enough her number was right there under ____ <3.

“You’re a step ahead of me,” Jaemin shakes his head before taking his drink and leaving, a big grin plastered on his face. The same grin that made your heart burst.

A/N: it’s posted later than usual but it’s up and I hope you enjoy it :3 I was late because I was working on my graduation cap today and got distracted and then I got gorilla glue on my hand and in other words I was a M E S S. Anyways if you want to be added to the tag list just leave a note so you’re easily alerted when I post the next chapter which will be on 7/4. Anyways have a wonderful day don’t be shy my messages and asks are always open and I love to look at them and answer them :)

P.S I’m a S L U T for coffee shop Au’s so if you have any like you could always send them my way because Y E S

Tag list ❤️ @yourchasingsunsetslove ❤️ @justineasian ❤️ @captainsjoongs ❤️ @theworld-accordingtocasey ❤️

[artificialqueens]

The Birthday Party (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

fic summary: Ellie spends the night of her birthday crying over a girl that doesn’t like her back. Lawrence will consider the evening a success if she can comfort her without her own heart shattering in the process.

a/n: this one goes out to the anon on my blog that asked me “after rereading freshers au about 3 million times I must ask… are we getting a chapter about Ellie’s 18th birthday party? I’m just thinking about the unrequited crushing/diamond Chaney potential”. apparently i am unable to say no to any anon that comes to me asking for more diamond chaney content, nor am i able to name any of these fics after anything other than 1975 song titles. hope u all enjoy!

***

It’s an image that could hang in the Louvre but it’s one that breaks her heart.

Ellie is sitting on a red brick wall with her legs dangling off it, pale and bare except from a couple of bruises where she’s banged them off the flat’s furniture. The grass on the raised ground behind her is wet and cold, shining under the streetlamps in the damp of that hazy timezone between midnight and morning. She’s right in the middle of the yellow spotlight from above, and Lawrence thinks it’s weird how a colour that’s the same as the sun can all at once seem so cold. The mist, though light, hangs suffocating and stagnant in the air. It casts its moisture over the cars parked on the road opposite, and there’s an urge Lawrence has to push down to draw a little heart on a car bonnet, then zig-zag a line down the middle to break it.

Lawrence thinks she looks like some sort of Disney Channel character come to life; pink and white checked gingham skirt, white, long-sleeved crop top. The pink Filas with the hearts that she’d spent way too much of her student loan on and the matching pink bow that sits squint in her curly, rain-frizzy hair. There’s a crumpled, sad ball of a tissue clutched tight in her white-knuckled hands, and her pink acrylics are outlined with black smudges. Her head hangs towards her lap and as she tilts it to the sky Lawrence can see her face; her makeup, still completely perfect, but with two long, unbroken tear tracks of black mascara and eyeliner that stream down her cheeks like some sort of poison.

Lawrence feels like crying herself, almost had done when Ellie had broken down to them all in the club toilets. When she’d sobbed and her chest had risen and fallen so rapidly, illustrating the pieces of her heart that were shattering inside her ribcage as if Tia was blowing them up with dynamite. When A’whora had shushed her comfortingly and rubbed her back and Bimini had fed her tissue after tissue from the loo roll dispenser. When Ellie had whispered with all the hope and life gone out of her voice,

“I like her so much, and she doesn’t even know, and she’ll never see me like that.”

And Lawrence couldn’t say a word because she couldn’t trust herself to. Because she didn’t even know what to say. Really what could she say when Ellie had said it all already?  

She recalls the way the bass from the songs that were playing out in the main room of the club had seemed so much like a sinister heartbeat; the soundtrack to the dread that Lawrence was feeling, that feeling of something slipping away.

Well, not something. Ellie.

Tayce hadn’t had much time for the whole situation. Lawrence knew she cared, of course, it would be harsh to say she didn’t, but she had been drunk and not particularly tactful. She’d hoisted Ellie to her feet, smudged away her tears from beneath her lashes with her thumbs and cupped her face as she gave a speech about how Ellie didn’t need anyone to make her feel happy, and how if Tia wasn’t going to notice her then there were a million other girls and guys out there that would, and how Ellie couldn’t let anyone spoil her night and Tayce wasn’t going to let that happen either. The song’s transition into Be Faithful had prompted Tayce to take charge, gripping Ellie’s hand and leading them all out of the toilets and onto the dancefloor with a battle cry about how this was her song, and how there was no way in hell she was missing the opportunity to get to dance to it with her best bitches.

Lawrence had known that Ellie hadn’t really felt better, though. The smile on her face was fake and she’d disappeared when the others were all too distracted bickering about whose round it was next. Lawrence had seen her disappear through the main doors and towards the exit- really the idea of Ellie being able to sneak off anywhere was laughable given her height- and so she’d dashed off without thinking, following her while a sinking feeling rose in her gut.

And now she’s here, a little way along the street outside the club, looking at Ellie and her broken heart and trying to figure out how to clean up the mess without a dustpan and brush.

So she awkwardly approaches her, forcing a smile as Ellie lifts her head to look at her through sapphires filled with tears. She decides to go with what’s always served her well though life and injects some fake cheer into her voice as she opens the joke.

“Did I ever tell you about the time the police chapped my door an’ told me my dogs were chasin’ people on bikes?” she opens limply, the joke already the verbal equivalent of a racehorse about to be made into glue. “My dogs didny even have bikes.”

Ellie gives an empty shell of a laugh in return. Lawrence supposes it’s the joke equivalent of “ask a stupid question, recieve a stupid answer”- tell a shite joke, recieve a shite laugh in reply. She’s rendered silent again, left to awkwardly scuff her foot over the glistening, frosty ground until Ellie gives a shuddery breath in.

“Y'should be back inside with the others,” she starts quietly, paws at her sniffly nose with the back of her hand, the tissue being long since rendered useless. “Having fun and getting drunk instead of listening to my shit.”

“I’m already drunk,” Lawrence shrugs at her. It’s half true. She feels too exposed as she follows it up with, “And it’s not fun if I know you’re upset.”

The tiny smile that appears on Ellie’s face and the way her eyes gain just a tiny bit of life makes coming out here in the freezing cold worth it.

“Ellie,” Lawrence gives a small sigh of sympathy, moves to stand in front of her and lets the crumpled tissue fall into Ellie’s lap before she takes her friend’s hands. She’s thrown before she can say anything. “Fucking Christ, your hands are baltic.”

“It’s December in Scotland. Everything’s baltic,” Ellie gives the tiniest roll of her eyes, but her expression is mostly one of affection, the gesture clearly appreciated. The way Lawrence’s heart is sparked by it is way too embarrassing and ridiculous, and she feels like a total idiot for being in this deep.

She covers it up with a sarcastic barb, a raised eyebrow used as a capital letter. “Do you want a pep talk or don’t you?”

“Please,” Ellie replies flatly.

Lawrence has about a second to collect her thoughts, try to arrange them into something coherent and supportive like a child making a model out of junk and PVA glue. She knows it’s going to come at the expense of her own heart but really, when has she ever put her own feelings first when Ellie’s been involved? She wishes they both had the same aspect to their friendship as A’whora and Tayce: that undercurrent of flirting and tension, the fact that A’whora’s huge crush on Tayce is the equivalent of a present wrapped in cellophane, and if they’ve not already done something about that whole aspect of their relationship then they surely will soon. But with Ellie it’s different. Lawrence is bound by the ties of the purely platonic nature of their friendship and, while she’d love nothing more than to break them, there’s still that part of her that’s content to stay in the chains they created together because even though they’re tight, they’re comfortable. They’re safe.

Ellie is Lawrence’s friend, so Lawrence puts her own feelings to one side and acts like it.

“I know it hurts,” Lawrence says, unable to meet her friend’s eyes as she strokes her thumb over her knuckles. “I know it feels like the worst heartache in the world, and it’s terrible. You feel like the pain’s not going to go away or…like your heart’s been smashed. It’s that way where…you’re too far gone as friends now, and it’s that feeling of not being able to change that path you’ve both gone down and…it’s too late, and you’re sat torturing yourself with the what-ifs and wondering if…y’know, maybe if you’d done something differently, maybe this, maybe that…”

Lawrence trails off to allow herself to gain back some composure, because all she’s succeeded in doing is making her own heart hurt with the truth. It’s the fact she’s telling Ellie everything: every feeling she goes through when it’s just the two of them bickering affectionately together, or the pair of them spooning when they’re hungover and emotional, or bonding over the Scottish Twitter references that the rest of their flatmates don’t get. It’s the way that with every moment they grow closer it only feels as if Ellie grows more and more distant.

“But you can’t hurt yourself like that, you know?” Lawrence says firmly, snapping her gaze up bravely to look Ellie in the eyes. “You can’t go through every day wondering why you’re not good enough, because the truth is that…you are. You fucking…are good enough, Ellie, you don’t need to change anything about yourself. Just keep being you, because…there’s someone out there who’ll appreciate it. And love you for it.”

Ellie’s gaze turns warm and soft, and she blinks a few tears away before looking into her lap, squeezing Lawrence’s hands. “Thank you, babe. That’s really nice.”

Lawrence can’t bask in the appreciation for long though because Ellie then narrows her eyes at her and gives her an inquisitive look.

“You know. You know what it feels like. How come you know?”

It would be so easy just to let something slip out; a confession, an admission, the secret she’s been holding in for two years now. The way she could bat it all away and cover it up with the amount of Jaeger she’s consumed over the past two hour period if it didn’t go down well on Ellie’s end. The thing is, though, that a drunk mind speaks sober thoughts, and it’s so cold in the street that she’s starting to sober up anyway. There wouldn’t really be anything to hide behind.

So she gives a snort of self-derision. “I know I might just seem like a joke book in a flesh suit, but I actually have a heart underneath it all.”

“Yeah,” Ellie agrees softly, her smile growing a little bigger. “You do.”

Lawrence’s heart soars into the sky like a bubble or a ridiculous novelty helium balloon. Ellie’s being sincere; she’s not layering Lawrence’s joke with another joke, a playing card on top of another. She’s just being honest. She sees Lawrence’s heart underneath all the sarcasm and the comedy and the way she can’t ever lay a single one of her feelings bare. Sometimes Lawrence dares to hope, dares to dream. Maybe everything she feels is reciprocated even a little bit. This- with Ellie’s gentle smile and the way the streetlamp is giving her a halo and the mist that’s wrapping around the two of them- is one of those moments.

Ellie sighs heavily, cuts through her thoughts. “It’s not even like Veronica’s someone I can justifiably hate, y’know? She has to be fucking…nice, and sweet, and pretty and lovely and Little Miss Perfect. Of course Tia’s mad for her.”

Pop.

“Well, you’re nice as well,” Lawrence frowns insistently. She finds herself rambling a little, clearly not as sober as she supposes the cold is rendering her. “And sweet and pretty and lovely. And perfect. Actually, not quite. C’mere.”

Lawrence beckons for Ellie to lean down, and as she does she fleetingly thinks about how easy it would be to kiss her. Too easy but too overwhelmingly difficult all at once.

Instead, Lawrence reaches her hands up to do what she’d intended, and fixes Ellie’s bow as if she’s adjusting a crown for a princess.

“There. Perfect now.”

Ellie smiles sadly at her as she straightens up, whispers a soft, resigned “thank you”. She sighs, looks plaintively up at the sky, the yellow of the streetlamp and the inky black of the vast space hanging above their heads. She pouts, deflated and defeated.

“What do I do now?”

Lawrence looks down the street, back in the direction of the flat. She could tell Ellie to give up and get over Tia. She could tell Ellie there’s someone that she knows- that they both know- that actually has a huge crush on her, she just needs to open her bloody eyes because all that fucking eyeliner’s clearly making her blind. She could tell Ellie that even the blind man’s fucking guide dog can see that Tia is hopelessly infatuated with the tiny blonde children’s storybook character she’s been making heart-eyes at for the past three months.

But Ellie’s already heartbroken enough and Lawrence is trying to make her feel better, and the antidote of heartbreak is hope. So she gives Ellie two options.

“Well. You could just carry on pinning your hopes on a girl who you’re not sure’s ever going to like you back, if you think you’ve got enough hope and optimism left in you. Or you could move on. Find the someone else out there who’ll love you for everything you are, because there is one. I know there is,” Lawrence says, omitting the fact that said person is her best friend, standing right in front of her. She smiles tightly before adding, “Your choice.”

When Lawrence realises she’s holding her breath waiting on her friend’s decision she feels even more of an idiot than she already does.

Ellie’s smile turns a little more genuine and she doesn’t even have to say anything to tell Lawrence what she’s chosen. “Well I’ve never been one to go down without a fight, you know? So…let’s just say Veronica better watch out. I’m gonna come up behind her and knock her kneecaps in to win my girl over. No matter how lovely she is.”

Lawrence shares Ellie’s giggle with a heart made of lead. She’ll keep pining, then. Keep on keeping on, keep on sharing moments with Ellie that make her day and ruin it all at once, the cause and the cure of all her mixed-up emotions. She’d rather keep her friendship with Ellie and have her heart crack just a little tiny bit every day than not have the girl in her life at all.

“Right, c’mon you. I’m freezing my not inconsiderable tits off out here,” Lawrence says decisively, if a little quietly. She wants nothing more than to drag herself back into the club and fill herself with artificial happiness, drink and listen to dance tracks about breakups with a too-fast BPM for the subject matter.

As Ellie takes her hand the split-second before she turns around, though, Lawrence’s priorities change. Her friend’s face is pleading and a little shy as she meets her eyes for a second and then snaps them to the ground.

“Can we just stay out here for a couple more minutes? Sorry,” Ellie explains. Lawrence can tell she feels silly. “I’m starting to feel better just being out here with you, so…I don’t want to go back in just yet.”

Like a complete fool, Lawrence just smiles and nods. “Of course we can.”

There’s a small silence in which Lawrence hugs herself tightly and rubs both her arms, because, well. She is freezing. She’s freezing and she wishes she had a cigarette. Ellie clearly isn’t as wrapped up in her own thoughts as she had been before because she notices her friend’s discomfort, gives a roll of her eyes which is affectionate rather than exasperated and pats the wall beside her.

“Hop up and I’ll warm you up,” she says. The jolt her words give Lawrence’s heart is what can only be described as pathetic, jump leads to a dying car.

Lawrence tries to join her on the wall, placing her palms on the bricks and making to hoist herself up. Her short stature, though, is rendering this difficult, and with each new unsuccessful attempt Ellie starts to laugh more and more until she’s doubled over, unable to breathe at Lawrence’s various attempts to sit beside her.

(Lawrence always loves making Ellie laugh whether she’s intended to or not, because it’s a way of guaranteeing that her attention is on her. The more she can make her laugh, the more of her attention she gets, so sometimes Lawrence will act up as if she’s on an episode of Live at the Apollo with an audience of one, in the world’s first romantically driven stand-up set.)

Ellie continues to laugh, finally holding a hand out for Lawrence to grab with a humoured “c’mere” to accompany it. As Lawrence grasps her hand and feels sparks fly through her bloodstream, she also clearly underestimates Ellie’s strength as she’s tugged suddenly forwards and they’re both flying onto the grass behind the wall. All at once the pair of them are reduced to bundles of giggles; legs scraping against the bricks and bodies flush against the wet grass, both of them breathless with their hands still entwined.

As their laughter dies down, there’s nothing left but their faces close together and the rise and fall of their chests and the small, dippy smile that’s still there on Ellie’s lips as she looks at her. The black of the sky and the green of the grass and the blue of her eyes, colour in absolutes. Simple, like Lawrence’s feelings are anything but.

It’s ethereal and it’s sad and Ellie will never know what it all means to her.

“I love you,” Lawrence says quietly. It’s too real and too painful and too raw to leave it like that, a plaster ripped off a cut too early. She elects to follow it up with, “Ya big bow-legged freak.”

Ellie giggles again, drunk and appeased. This is good. This is what Lawrence had wanted; to cheer her up and put that starry smile on her face on a night that’s meant to be all about her, meant to be special and magical and not the bad dream it had turned into. Lawrence has filled her head with drunk platitudes and compliments that’ve hurt too much to give. Lawrence has done the duties of a friend. She is her friend. And Ellie is happy. Lawrence can’t be sad when she’s happy.

Ellie lets go of her hand, pulls her in and hugs her. In an instant, the dewey grass seems instantly warmer. The moment is nicotine and Lawrence fills her lungs.

“I love you too, babe.”

She pretends she means it like she wants her to, and the bittersweet feeling it gives her fills her heart like tar.

[aquadrazi]

Find Someone to Carry You

Chapter 41

“I heard all the cultivators are gathering at Cloud Recesses.”

“Is it another Discussion Converence?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I heard that Zewu-Jun is finally flexing his muscles.”

“So it is mandatory attendance?”

“I wonder what’s going on.”

“Maybe he’s marrying the Jin Bastard.”

“Or maybe they’re doing the coronation there?”

“Since he’s officially taking over the Jin Sect.”

………Cloud Recesses………

The Juniors flew in early, with the members of the special dead people club.  The name had kind of stuck.  Lan Qiren was waiting for them when they landed on the lawn outside the main hall, in the dead of night.

“This way.” He whispered quietly after a quick exchange of bows.  Wei Ying made sure to stay hidden surrounded by a clump of Juniors.  He definitely did NOT want to have a confrontation with Master Lan at the moment.

They were led to the back mountain, where a new pavilion had been built.  Wei Ying felt the tingling of arrays all around as they drew closer.  This place was heavily protected.  When they reached the main gate, Lan Qiren stopped and pulled out a handful of jade tokens.

“We have changed out our tokens, due to security compromises in the past.  These tokens will let you in and out of all areas of Cloud Recesses, including this pavilion.  ONLY these tokens will allow access to the pavilion.  You will be safe here.”  He explained as he passed the tokens to a Junior to pass out.  “The only people with these tokens are people who know you are alive.”  He said looking directly at Wei Ying.

Yanli squeezed his hand, reminding him that he wasn’t alone.  Lan Zhan had stayed behind to make a show of arriving with Nie Huaisang.

“It’s good to see all of you again.”  Lan Qiren said after the tokens had been passed out.  “Now, if you’ll please.” He ushered the group into the pavilion.

The idea was simple enough, but Wei Ying was finding it more difficult by the minute to hold his panic at bay.  They had snuck him into the receiving line, next to Lan Zhan, with an invisibility talisman.  He held onto Lan Zhan’s wrist that was planted behind his back, and every time he recognized an aroma, he would squeeze Lan Zhan’s wrist.  Lan Zhan would then look over to Nie Huaisang and the name of the cultivator would be written down.

He felt like he was about to collapse when he felt a hand grab his other wrist and started sending him calming waves of spiritual energy.  He looked up and remembered that Sect Leader Lan was next to him.  He had hidden what he was doing behind his own back, but he smiled gently, letting Wei Ying know he was safe.

I am okay

I am safe

I can do this

They don’t know I’m here

It had been Sect Leader Lan’s idea to combine the confrontation with Jin Guangyao with helping to root out everyone who had violated Wei Ying in Koi Tower.  The receiving line was the perfect opportunity to parade the entirety of the cultivation world in front of Wei Ying.  Of course, not everyone would show up, but they could be tracked down and checked later.

“Ah Hanguang-Jun.  It’s nice to see you back and attending events!”  Sect Leader Yao greeted, sounding more judgmental than pleasant.

Wei Ying’s head started to spin and he gripped so hard on Lan Zhan’s wrist that he was worried he might break it.  The Sect Leader’s distinct smell was triggering a whole bunch of bad memories.

Lan Zhan bowed to the sect leader, but did not reply. He broke his wrist free of Wei Ying’s grasp and took his hand in his instead.  He squeezed back, and sent him waves of spiritual energy.  Even with both Lan brother’s feeding him calming spiritual energy, Wei Ying was having a hard time staying in the present and holding off his panic.

“I trust that your Sect Leader has properly re-educated you, now that the rabid dog is no longer around to lead you astray.”

He knew.

He called me that.

I can’t do this.

Tears were streaming down his face and he knelt down, his legs no longer willing to hold him.  The Lan brothers kept hold of his hand and wrist, managing to gracefully continue to hide it behind their backs by closing ranks in front of Wei Ying.

“Sect Leader Yao, you will find that we have set up a reception area with refreshments for our guests.” Sect Leader Lan diplomatically gestured with is free hand to move Sect Leader Yao along.

Luckily, the Yao delegation was the last one to arrive that day, so Lan Qiren gracefully slid over to help shield Lan Zhan as he turned and picked up Wei Ying and carried him inside the main hall.  Lan Zhan removed the talisman that was making Wei Ying invisible, and cradled him to his chest as Wei Ying sobbed.

“He-he…called me that…”  Wei Ying managed to choke out.

“In Koi Tower?” Lan Zhan asked gently.

Wei Ying nodded and clung tighter to Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan placed a kiss on Wei Ying’s forehead.  “He will be punished.”

Wei Ying was only aware that they were not alone with Lan Xichen began playing is xiao for him.

“Wei Ying did so well.  Wei Ying is strong.  Wei Ying is brave.”  Lan Zhan continued to whisper a litany of affirmations into the top of Wei Ying’s head as he rocked him.

In the past, Wei Ying had refused to allow anyone to see any side of him other than happy and confident.  He had only broken down when he was alone, or with his Shijie.  He felt like his emotions weren’t important, and could be delt with later.  He needed to make sure everyone else was safe, protected, and happy.  It felt nice to be taken care of.  To be able to be safe and protected as he broke down.  He knew that this would all be over soon.  He just needed to get through the next couple of days, then he could go hide in a pile of bunnies for as long as he wanted.

Nie Huaisang watched Lan Zhan’s face like a hawk.  Every time he made eye contact, he would flick them down to a cultivator, then Nie Huasiang knew to write that person’s name down.  He knew something was wrong when he saw the slight look of distress on Lan Zhan’s face when Sect Leader Yao was in front of him.  Nie  Huaisang put a star next to the Sect Leader’s name after he wrote it down.  That one would probably deserve some, special, attention.

He saw the Twin Jades of Lan step closer together, and the Lan Sect Leader motion to get rid of Sect Leader Yao.  When Lan Qiren swooped in he knew that Wei Ying must be in some serious distress.  He motioned for one of his spies.  “Follow Sect Leader Yao.  Make sure he doesn’t…disappear…”

Lan Xichen took a deep breath before entering the Hanshi.  Jin Guangyao was inside, unaware of what was going on behind the scenes.  No matter how many times his heart tried to tell him that he should just ASK, that there might be a perfectly reasonable explanation, his brain told him that no, Jin Guangyao had LIED to him, to his face, multiple times.  It had already been proven, just by Wei Ying’s existence alone.  Then it had been backed up by the existence of Wen Ning, and the testimony of his sworn brother.

He opened the door and put one of his own carefully practiced smiles on his face.  Two could play at this game.

“Er-ge!” Jin Guangyao smiled back at him.  Xichen wondered if it was genuine, or fake.  Does he love me?  Or was it all part of the plan.

“The guests have finished arriving for the day.”  Xichen said, as he sat down for tea.

“Have I thanked you yet, Er-ge?  For having the coronation here?  It means so much more to have it recognized by the Lan Sect.”  Jin Guangyao cooed, this time it made Xichen’s skin crawl.  He could do this.  He just had to endure for a couple more days.  A small price to pay considering all he had unknowingly been a party to.

Jiang Cheng arrived late and without fanfare.  He didn’t want to be there in the first place.  He’d just lost the last of the people who ever mattered to him in the world and he’d rather not be there to watch Jin Guangyao take Jin Ling’s spot as Sect Leader, officially.

He was heading to the guest quarters, he knew where they were, when he was stopped by Lan Wangji’s kid, Lan Sizhui.

“Sect Leader Jiang.” The boy bowed respectfully.  “Please, follow me.  We’ve prepared rooms for you elsewhere.  I’m sure you’ll find it more comfortable, as it is away from the other guests.”

“I wasn’t planning on causing trouble.” Jiang Cheng mumbled as he followed the Lan Junior.

“I apologize Sect Leader Jiang, my intentions were not clear.  Baba thought that since you have suffered a terrible loss recently, you would find comfort in the new pavilion that we’ve built, on the back mountain.”  The Lan Junior handed him a jade token.  “This will grant you entry to the pavilion.  Only those with tokens may enter.”

“Is Lan Wangji worried I’m about to have a Qi Deviation?  So he’s putting me in seclusion?”

“The possibility has crossed his mind, but we are trying to be as gentle as possible to avoid that.”

“What?!”

Before Jiang Cheng could press the Junior further, he had found himself at the gate of the new pavilion.

“I would suggest taking a few deep breaths Sect Leader, before I open the gates.”  The Junior advised.  When it was clear that Jiang Cheng was going to do no such thing, the Junior opened the gates anyway with a sigh.

Jiang Cheng’s legs gave out from underneath him and he had to be caught by Lan Sizhui.  He was staring at his Shijie, her husband, and their son.

When did I die?

I don’t remember it.

Was it in my sleep?

“A-Cheng!”

“Uncle!”

They ran to him to help him up and into the pavilion.  He stared at them dumbly as they dragged him into the courtyard and set him on the grass.

“Oh A-Cheng.  I’m so sorry we had to keep this from you.”  Yanli cried as she pulled him into a hug.  His brain was having trouble processing anything.  Over her shoulder, the peacock was smiling at him with a gentle knowing look.

“Take your time.  It’s a lot to take in.”  The peacock told him.

“But you’re NOT DEAD, just to be clear.  I thought so too when I first found out.”  Jin Ling pulled Jiang Cheng’s attention away from the peacock.

Nie Huaisang walked over and held his hand out.  “Will you allow me to hold Zidian while they explain it to you?  We don’t want anyone getting accidentally hurt.”

[kbridges]

21st birthday (pt.II)

8th member of GOT7: Ela (Song Dain)

July 17th 2019

"Him.", Joy said just as he came back from the bar with a bottle of whiskey and coke. "What about me.", Dohwan asked with a smile. "Dain asked where are you, so I said you went to get us drinks.", Joy explained. "That's not true, I just sat here looked around and she said you went there.", Dain said quickly. Dohwan just smiled and gave Dain a glass. "It's okay. What do you want to drink birthday girl?”

"Hmmm... just give me a half a glass of whiskey 3 cubes of ice and some coke.", Dain said politely, "unnie what will you drink?", she asked Joy. "Oh I'll have the same but with more coke less whiskey.",Joy answered. There was this weirdly awkward atmosphere in the air between the three. It was because Joy knows that Dain likes Dohwan but the question is does he likes her too. He's really sweet too her. But at the same time, it's confusing. What if he just thinks of her as a younger sister. She likes being friends with him but would be sad if he didn't like her. If her stupid crush on him would ruin their friendship, it's not worth it. That's why Dain has been trying to forget her feelings. 

"Dain, will you confess?", Joy asked her quietly so Dohwan didn't hear.  

"No, I think I won't.", Dain replied mumbling. 

Not wanting to be rude they started to talk to Dohwan. In the middle of a conversation about how he just got cast in a new drama and a realization that it's the same drama where Dain got the offer to play his characters love interest.

 "Oh my god, you could be playing a couple. That's so cute.", Joy said excitedly. At that moment Minjae and Taehyung came to their table. 

"Oh, come on Joy you're talking as if you didn't smooch his face in a drama a year ago.", Minjae commented making a kiss sound. Everyone laughed except Joy who pushed Minjae away as he wanted to sit next to her. 

"Oppa, come here, Tae oppa you too.”, she made a place for both of them next to her. Minjae sat next to her and complained about how Joy bullies him all the time. Dain just laughed and pinched his cheek. "Ow!", Minjae exclaimed. 

"Oh come on it wasn't even that bad.", Dain replied smiling. Then she gave him a kiss on a cheek. "Better?", she asked him. He just smiled and nodded his head. 

"You two would be cute together.", Taehyung commented. "Yeah, I know right?", Dohwan agreed. The shock on Joy's and Dain's face was noticeable, while Minjae just shook it off and replied "She's like a sister to me, actually no she's me. I can't date myself”.

 Dain nodded her head in agreement. Before anyone could say anything more Joy said she needs to go to the restroom because she could see the sadness in Dain's eyes. She asked Dain to come with her and she did. 

"Are you okay?", Joy asked her trying to look her in the eyes as they arrived in the restroom. 

"No? I don't know, I'm just glad he doesn't know I like him.", Dain said as she tried not to cry. 

At the same moment, Sunmi and Seulgi came in the restroom. "Dain-ah!", Sunmi exclaimed happily, but then she saw her eyes. 

"Oh sweetie what's wrong?", Sunmi asked as she went to hug her. 

"Unnie!", Dain said now sobbing in Sunmi's shoulder. Seulgi and Joy talked on the side while Sunmi was comforting Dain. 

"Come on tell us what happened?" Sunmi asked still hugging her. Joy and Dain explained that Dain liked someone but didn't say his name, and explained the situation. "Are you talking about Dohwan?", Seulgi questioned. "Yes.", Dain replied emotionless as she sat on the floor leaning on a wall. 

"Oh, forget him you'll find someone even better than him. I know handsome polite boys are your weakness but believe me it's just not meant to be, look you'll meet someone that'll never make you cry like he just did. Okay?", Sunmi said encouraging her. 

"And you are a beautiful girl Dain, so many guys and girls want you. Believe me, you'll find someone but now just go out there and enjoy your birthday. Cope with it however you want, get drunk, kiss someone, even hook up with someone, just don't cry. Okay?", Seulgi said giving her a hand to stand up. "Okay", Dain replied taking her hand. 

"Okay now first let's go pee then back to the party.", Joy said laughing. 

After they came back to the club and returned to the table there was Yeri, Eunwoo and Jungkook sitting with them. Dain sat next to Eunwoo and started to drink. Taehyung went to get two more bottles of whiskey and Dain was not stopping. On her 7th glass of whiskey with ice Eunwoo stopped her. 

"Wait a minute princess.", he said taking her glass. "Leave me alone, I want to drink, it's my birthday.", Dain said whiningly. 

"No, Dain what are you doing? Did something happen?", Eunwoo asked her. "No, I just feel like drinking", Dain replied as she tried to take her glass back from him. 

When she succeeded she got up and decided to go to the bar and get herself a cuba libre cocktail. After she took her glass she went to the first squad she saw, there where Changkyun, Joshua, Mark and Aron, talking in english. "Thank god, I found you guys because my brain has switched to english.", Dain said as she stood between Mark and Changkyun. 

"Darling, what are you doing?", Joshua asked her with a worried tone because he saw in what state she's in. 

"I'm drinking because I'm getting old. It's my birthday!", she replied now almost completely drunk. 

"What's the time?", Mark knew he had to be the big brother again and take care of her. "2:35", Aron replied. 

"See I still have time to sober up. I'm not leaving until 4 am. Remember that", Dain said to Mark," also this is my last drink today". Mark just sighed. 

Dain, on the other hand, was on tour to talk to everyone. Again. As she was walking, a girl tapped her shoulder. 

"Sorry, are you Dain?", the girl asked. Dain scanned the girl, she was pretty, probably a model, but why was she here, she knows some of the idols partners came to the party but she knew them already. 

"I'm looking for Dohwan, I'm his girlfriend Seo Hyeri, nice to meet you", she said smiling. 

"Oh... nice to meet you too", Dain said with a fake smile," he's down there at the second to last table". 

Dain was drunk but in a moment she felt like someone hit her in the face with a bucket of ice water. 

"Thank you", Hyeri replied and went to Dohwan. 

Dain knew she needs to get out of there as soon as possible. She went to her members who were having an Uno tournament with Seventeen and Monsta X at the biggest table in the club. She asked the whole bunch if there's anyone who wants to go home. Her members are too competitive to just go home so she got a no from them. Sunmi then came by to say goodbye because she was preparing for a comeback. Sunmi lives on the other side of the city so she can't go with her. After Sunmi left Dain asked the boys will anyone help her go home because she's scared to go alone. In the end, Jackson agreed to go with her. She said by to everyone and went home. They took a taxi to her house. 

Jackson was a bit drunk too but he was in a much better state then Dain who got her heart broken twice in one night. When they came to her apartment, he took off her shoes and they went to sit on the couch. As they started to talk about something irrelevant Dain did something stupid. She kissed him. As they were both drunk he kissed her back. It was not a kiss of love, it was a kiss full of a desire to be loved because they're heartbroken. They just went for it, neither of them pulling away, the complete opposite happened she found her way onto his lap, he grabbed her face as she put her fingers in his hair. But soon Jackson pulled away. 

"We can't be doing this Ela.", he said catching his breath and looking down. 

"I just don't want to do something that would make our friendship awkward and weird. I'm sorry.", Jackson explained. 

"Nah, I agree I don't even know what got into me, sorry.", Dain said as she got off his lap. 

"Also did something happened at the party?", Jackson asked because she was acting strange. Dain then explained everything to him. When she was done both of them were tired and went to sleep. They slept in the same bed just because Jackson knew she needed someone to hold her this night.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Set it all free; Queen x reader

*Author’s note*

Hey guys, well after reading several Bohemian Rhapsody fanfics on some tumblr pages, I thought I might try to have my luck at it. Now please bear in mind this is my first time ever writing a fic about a Band. I don’t normally write about musicians (private message me about my reasons why) but after seeing the movie Bohemian Rhapsody last month, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Anyways I also got inspired after listening to Scar Jo’s song she did in the movie “Sing” to also help with this fic. So I hope you all enjoy this and any Queen fans out there, hope I didn’t make the boys to OOC or make this story suck.

Warnings: Swearing, cheating, bit of angst, fluff over all.

_________________________________________________________

It was a typical day at the studio.  Being a college student doing an internship is a luck of the draw, getting that one in a million chance of interning under the biggest band in the world like Queen. That’s practically almost damned near impossible. But yet here I am.

Jim Beach or as Freddie likes to call him “Miami” hired me to help assist with the band during recording sessions as well as 3 weeks of touring with them.  While being their intern, I got pretty close with the guys, I looked up to them as not only my mentors for music and songwriting (since I play and sing a little bit but never really had the confidence to perform in front of a live audience) but they became like 4 big brothers to me.

Sadly however tomorrow would be last day of the internship before the next world tour of Queen, which meant I wouldn’t see the guys until 6 months until then.  So I tried to make do with the time I had with the guys left.  

I was currently lying on the couch watching Deaky do his solo bass recording for their current next smash hit.  Once he was done he asked.

“How was that?”

“Let us turn to our younger audience for approval,” Brian said into the mic so that Deaky could hear it.  The boys then turned toward me.  Of course me being a college student, they always wanted a “younger” persons perspective just to see if young people like me would bang their heads, or drum on their attiring wheels while the song played on the radio.

“What do you say darling? Will your people love it?” asked Freddie.

“Oh um please hold,” I played along and made my hands into a phone and then said in my best snotty business voice, “Queen it’s the Grammy’s you’ve just won the awards for Best Producers, Best Vocal performance in a duo/group and Best song of the year.”

“Oh darling you are too kind!” Freddie praised.

“In all seriousness it was great guys, you don’t have to always rely on me to be the barrier you need. Your breakout for Bohemian Rhapsody already proved your musical talents. Much better than ‘I’m in love with my car’.”

“Watch it squirt, I was just starting to like you” Roger threatened.  I stuck my tongue at him playfully giggling.

For the rest of the day, it continued on watching the guys record again and again until it was up to Freddie’s image.  Once the recording was done, the guys were now just lounging around drinking some beers while I was packing up to head back to my apartment.

“Okay guys, I’m about to take off.” I said.

“Oh come now (y/n) darling, stay for a while and have a couple of drinks with us” suggested Freddie.

“I can’t Fred, I’ve got an early class tomorrow and a shit ton of homework, if I miss this bus right now I’m officially gonna be late for classes tomorrow.”

“But love tomorrow’s your last day with us, and after that we won’t see you for years.” I went to argue when Brian interjected.

“It’ll only be six months Fred. Go on love, you’re free to go. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Thanks Bri,” I then hugged and kissed the boys goodbye and said my farewells and they did the same for me.

I then raced out of the studio and headed towards the bus stop that was a few blocks away and thank God I made it just in time as the bus was coming.  I paid my fee and took a seat and took out my journal and started writing my internship for the day, logging in how many hours I did and retailing the hours in total I now had so that they would count towards my Internship credit at the University.

By around 7pm I finally arrived at my neighborhood and did the remaining 5 block walk to mine and my boyfriend’s apartment.  Oh yeah the one detail I left out, I live with my boyfriend Adam.  We met at University, me being a music major as well as him so we hit it off pretty well.

He’s cute and pretty good looking, but sometimes his attitude can really be a real pain in the ass. Like when I first signed up for the internship, he at first didn’t want me to take it because that would mean I was always would be away from him.  We had a fight about it till finally he just dropped it.

So things lately between us have been strained, so we’ve been trying to avoid each other, even though we live under the same roof which sometimes makes even going home awkward.

When I finally arrived at the door, I unlocked it and set my bags down with a groan and said.

“Baby I’m back.” But there was absolute silence.  I thought it was a bit odd because he’s usually still here after dark, very rarely does he ever go out this late.  “Adam? Adam you here?” I called out again.  I looked around the usual placed of the flat where he would usually be but he wasn’t in the kitchen, the living room, not even his game room.  So I decided maybe he was sleeping in our bedroom.

I walked down the hallway towards our shared bedroom and when I opened the door, my heart sunk.

Adam was asleep in bed alright, but he had another woman in his arms cuddled into his chest. I turned on the lights and screamed out.

“WHAT THE FUCK!?” Adam and the bimbo woke up and I saw that she looked like she belonged at a strip club with long blonde hair and possibly fake boobs.

“Hi, I’m Becky” the girl introduced herself in a bubble voice.

“Becky!?” I snarled.

Next thing I knew, I was tossing my now ex-boyfriend and his slut out of my flat.  Adam was struggling to put his clothes back on as was Becky when Adam proclaimed.

“You were never around! What else was I supposed to do?”

“I did it for us Adam! You couldn’t have had the balls to breakup with me? No! Instead you bring this, this this—bimbo into our flat. And you sleep with her in our bed!” I then threw his prized guitar case at his chest which knocked him down to the ground.

“Oh sweetie I’m sorry. I think I left my hat in there could I maybe—” before Becky could even walk another step into the flat, I slammed the door in her face and pressed my back against the door.

‘Come on Becky, let’s get out of here!’ I heard Adam say.

I was in hysterics as I slid down onto my butt and tears filled my eyes.  I couldn’t even be in this flat anymore.  Without even thinking, I just bail out and took off running.

I didn’t care if people walking past me saw my crying, all I cared about was just getting as far away from my flat as I could.  And I don’t know whether it was by some miracle nor do I know how I managed it, but I soon ended up back at the studio.  And judging by the lack of the limos and other cars, I knew no one would be home.

Using my extra set of keys, I entered the studio and turned on a couple of lights so that I could see better.  I first went into the loo and I finally saw how god awful I looked.

Blood shot red eyes, tearstains glistening on my cheeks, as well as mascara that made me look like a wasted raccoon.  I turned on the tap and splashed some water on my face hoping to clean myself up before taking a towel and dapping my face lightly with it until I look slightly presentable.

I then walked into the recording booth and spotted the couch.  I plopped down on it and grabbed the blanket that was over the top of it and covered my entire body with it, head and all.

Hoping and wishing that this couch would just eat me alive.

*3rd Person POV*

Around 8am sharp, the members of Queen well three of them anyways Brian, Roger and John arrived at the studio for another days of recording when they first took notice that the studio had been unlocked.

Worried that the place might’ve been ransacked, they rushed in but saw everything still in the right order.  They noticed a couple lights were on so they walked towards the recording booth in the back of the studio and that’s when John noticed someone sleeping on the couch.

He quietly walked up towards the couch and removed the blanket just enough to reveal the head and that’s when he saw (y/n).

“It’s (y/n) guys.” He said quietly.

“What the bloody hell is she doing here this early?” Roger asked.

“I dunno” stated Brian.

“Should we wake her?” asked John.

“Good idea, you do it Deaky.” Roger said.

“Me? Why me why don’t you do it?”

“The last time I got on that girl’s bad side waking her up, I nearly had all my hair chopped off!”

“Hush you two! If you children keep arguing she will wake up.” Brian hissed quietly.  He then shoved the other two out of the way and knelt down beside the couch and gently stroked her shoulder and whispered, “(Y/n), wake up love.” With that, (y/n) began to stir.

*My POV*

I grumbled as I felt myself waking up and the first thing I saw was Brian kneeling down in front of me.  I looked up to also see Rog and Deaky standing a couple feet away from me.  All three men looking at me with the same look.

Concerned.

“Hey” I stated tiredly with a hint of sadness.

“Morning (y/n). How long have you been here?” asked Brian.

“Don’t remember the time I got here, but it was pretty late. Ran all the way here from my flat.”

“Wait, wait hold on. You ran all the way from your flat to here? (Y/n) that’s like 3 bloody miles! Why did you come here?” Roger interrogated.

That’s when everything came back to me.  Adam and her. Tears once again filled my eyes as I let out a couple of sobs.

“Way to go Roger you made her cry!” Deaky snarled.

“I didn’t mean to! (Y/n) love you know I—”

“It’s not you Rog. It’s not any of you.” I choked out.

“Then what is it? Come on love tell us,” Brian encouraged me as he had me sit up so he could sit beside me.  Roger sat on the chair while Deaky came back with a box of tissues and sat on the other lounge chair beside Roger.

“When I got h-home last night. I—I found…..Adam. He was….He—he slept…..with another girl in our room!” I took a tissue and pressed it against my right eye as I let out a sob.

Now I have told the guys about my relationship.  Around my 2nd week of my internship with the guys, we were all just hanging out and they were talking about their relationships/marriages and that’s when the boys started to interrogate me on if I had a special man in my life (mainly from Freddie) and of course when I said I did.

They wanted to know everything.  It was like my four brothers became my four dads as they wanted his name, what he did for a living, how we met, how long the relationship had been going on for, and whether he was treating me right.  

When I told them about the starting strain of the relationship, Roger almost wanted to go to my flat and beat the living shit out of Adam but I told him we were trying to work it out to avoid Roger Taylor being front page news of beating a young college boy.  But of course he said, ‘so long as the headline say; ‘Roger Taylor defends girl’s honor’.’

“Where is he?!” Roger growled.

“Rog not now” Brian tried to keep the peace but Roger cried out.

“No! I made a promise that if he broke her heart I’d beat his bloody arse into a pulp! Now tell me (y/n) where is he?”

“I don’t know, and frankly I could give a shit. I should’ve just ended things when they got bad. This is my fault, maybe I deserved it.”

“Don’t say that love! You didn’t deserve anything. If anything he didn’t even deserve you.” Brian assured me as he rubbed my shoulder comfortingly.

“Adam was a dick to do that to you (y/n). And I agree with Brian he’s not worth it, not even your tears” Deaky said as he took another tissue and reached over and wiped away the tears from under my eyes.  I looked between the three of them and just before I could say anything, the doors opened the Freddie came strutting in.

“Alright lads let’s get straight to—(y/n) why the long face darling?” he asked.

“Her boyfriend was shagging another girl last night in their flat.” Roger said clearly still wanting to kill Adam.

“Oh no, come here dear,” he came right over to me and took my hands and stood me up so that he could embrace me tightly in his arms. “Deaky, why don’t you and Rog go and make her a cup of tea, Bri see if we still got any leftover sweets.” The three of them left the booth leaving Freddie and I alone.  “Did you stay here all night?”

“Yeah I just—I just couldn’t stay in that flat I…..”

“Shhh, there, there darling. Not another word about it, he was a wanker. All little boys are.” I managed out a smile. “There’s that smile I love so much darling,” he gently brushed his thumb against my cheek and lifted my chin to look up at him as he continued, “You can stay here and take it easy. You don’t have to worry about doing any work, and if anyone questions your lack of work for your final day, I’ll out in a good word for you.” He winked down at me just as Brian came back with the bowl of sweets Deaky bought a couple weeks ago, and both Rog and Deaky came back with a cup of warm tea.

The boys then guided me to a private room located next to the recording booth that felt more like a lounge room that the guys would use to just sit around if they ever needed a private moment to focus on songwriting or whatever.

Freddie set me down at the small love seat, Roger had taken the blanket that I had used last night and placed the blanket over my shoulder, Brian placed the bowl of sweets at my lap, and Deaky finally handed me my cup of tea.  Judging by the smell of it, it was my favorite brand; Jasmine.

“You just take all the time you need to get settled, and if you need us, we’ll gladly drop everything and help you out.” Said Brian.

“You guys don’t have to do all that—”

“Nonsense darling. You’re hurting and we can’t allow you to be sad. It’s a crime in itself. We won’t take no for an answer. Whatever you need, no matter how big or small, you just let us know. No matter how busy we are” Freddie interjected.

I looked between the four of them and just couldn’t believe my luck.  The biggest rock band in all the world, were my angels sent from above to help me through my heartbreak.

“I swear you should change the band from Queen to Angels.”

“Darling the only angel among us is you” said Freddie as he gently stroked down my hair and planted a kiss at the top of my head before leaving the lounge room.  Brian gave me a sideways comforting hug before kissing my temple, Deaky came up and kissed my cheek then Roger came up and kissed my other cheek before ruffling my hair messing it up to which I playfully shoved him making him chuckle.

Once the guys left me alone to begin their work, I sat there drinking my tea and snacking on as many sweets as I could.  About 10-15minutes into just sitting around, I just knew I had to play a song, but not just any song.  I was getting inspired to make my next song that I had in mind.  So finding some paper and a pen and noticing one of Brian’s guitars still in the lunge room, probably from the last time he must’ve been in here to just do some strumming or whatever.

I knew he wouldn’t mind cause he offered that if anytime I wanted to play, I was allowed to use his guitars so long as I didn’t break them cause otherwise he’d curse me for eternity.  I sat down on the floor and just did some strumming while I hummed trying to find the melody of my song first.

I tried about three different tunes until I finally found the right rhythm of the song.  Then came the lyrics.  Now as mentioned before I have written songs in the past but like with any song it’s not always easy but thanks to some of the tips that the boys have given me, I simply wrote what I was feeling down on the page.

The first and second verse came pretty easy to me but the chorus was where I started struggling with the most.  I quietly strummed the rhythm to myself as I sang what I was thinking.

“I can finally see it’s not just your name. When you set it all fr—free. No, no that’s not it,” I scribbled out the first few lines of the chorus and tried it again.  I then turned Brian’s guitar and played the tune again as I muttered the new lyrics this time, “When you set it all free, all free, all free. You set it all free”.

“(Y/n)?” I looked up to see Freddie standing by the door way.  His eyes widened almost in shock as he just stared right at me.  “Have you—been writing that song this whole time?”

“Well, not the whole time. I’ve only been just finished the first half of it in what—” I looked up at the clock to see that two hours have gone by since I started. “Two hours, wow that long? Is it bad?”

“‘Is it bad?’ Darling, it’s amazing! You have to sing it for us!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa Fred slow down. You know how I feel about singing, I can barely sing in front of you guys without almost having a breakdown.”

“No worries darling, we’ll work on that. Just show us what you’ve got so far, please I would really like to hear it.” He looked at me with those puppy dog eyes of his and I knew I couldn’t refuse.

“Alright” I groaned before he cheered and took my hand and dragged me back to the booth.

“My darlings, our little rock angel has been working on a song of her very own and I say we give it a listen to it.” The boys turned toward me and Deaky said.

“Is it true (y/n)?”

“Yeah I’ve uhh—it’s just something I thought would help me out with—you know.” At that moment, the boys dropped their things and sat in front of me anticipatingly like little children ready for a story from their teacher.  I knew then I had no other choice.

I sat down at the couch in the correct posture and tuned Bri’s guitar to the right key and strummed a couple of times.  I then began to sing as much of the song as I had ready singing the first two verses and then the chorus.  Once I was done, I looked to the guys and they all now looked like profession record producers as they muttered and whispered to one another.

“It’s not complete yet and I know it still needs work but I just—”

“Quiet for a second darling, the adults are talking.” Freddie said as he held up his finger gesturing me to be quiet.  They continued talking before nodding and standing up.

“Well (y/n), you were right there is a lot of work to be done with the song” Roger started off, “First of all it needs more than just a guitar, the first few lyrics should be introduced by drums, not strums of a guitar.”

“Secondly you’ll need a base to pick up rhythm of your melody on the guitar” John said.

“And of course the lyrics need more, plus some rewriting just a couple of the words.” Stated Brian.

“But this song will truly be a smash hit.” Finished Freddie.  I smiled at them and we all then got to work.

For months I met up with the guys to work on the song, improve on the lyrics and hear the accompaniment they’ve come up with on how the song will sound all together.  I then got gutsy and whenever I would record my guitar solo I had in mind for the song after one day in class, I played it for the guys and they all sat there in shock, even Brian, “The Guitar playing God” of Queen was blown away with what I had done.

Finally Queen was ready for their second tour.  This time worldwide.  We were about to tour everywhere from coast to coast of Europe, across America, to Rio, Japan, China and even Australia.  Then one day just before our show in New York City, the Big Apple itself.  I was backstage helping some of the crew set up for the show when Roger called for me to their dressing room.

I followed behind him and when I entered I saw the guys all sitting around looked dead at me. I was confused and asked them.

“What’s going on?”

“(Y/n), we’ve been talking and it’s time.” Brian said.

“Time for what?”

“In the middle of our set, we are going to introduce you and have you sing the song that we’ve helped you with.” Said Freddie.

Shock doesn’t even compare to what I was feeling.

“No I—I can’t this is…..I can’t sing out there. This is a Queen concert not a Queen featuring an unknown college girl who thinks she’s a singer. I can’t I won’t sorry wrong number I refuse!”

“But you can’t darling, you’ve got to finally show that wanker Adam that he hasn’t won in breaking your heart. Show him up on that stage that he didn’t break you down, that he didn’t get to you. Own that stage just as I do.” Freddie said as he placed his hands on my shoulders looking me right in the eye.

“Freddie I—what if I screw up? You know how I feel about big crowds and this—this show is sold out. I know I’ll choke. Why can’t you sing it?”

“Because this is your song darling, and I won’t take credit for a song that isn’t mine. Especially one that is personal to you”.

“And you won’t be alone up there love, you’ll have us backing you up.” Brian said as he came up to me.  I looked at all four of them and they all looked like they really wanted me to do this. I sighed deeply and said.

“How long do I’ve got to get ready till showtime?” The boys all cheered and they all guided me towards the makeup room.  The boys each had an idea of how I should look on stage and what my wardrobe should look like, for they didn’t want me to be a frilly princess cause they all knew I hated that, but they didn’t want me making a slut of myself.

So in the end, I was in long black jeans that flapped out at the ankles, a wore a dark grey patterned black shirt with a black leather jacket.  My makeup was a basic base with a dash of sparkling blue eyeshadow and to add to my eye makeup, my eyes were given wings to make them really pop out. And to top it all off, Freddie had actually asked Mary to go by apartment and I was given Becky’s light grey flat cap.

I looked at myself in the mirror and almost couldn’t believe that this was really me.  I twirled a bit of my long hair and said.

“This is so—scary.”

“Honey you never looked better,” Freddie said as he came up behind me and looked at me in the mirror. “Our little angel is ready to fly, and she is going to give those two arseholes a reason to fear her.”  A knock was soon heard and the stage manager called out.

“Five minutes till curtain gentlemen.”

“Stay lose to the stage, we’ll give a proper introduction dear,” Fred kissed my cheek and the boys all filed out giving me either a nod or a gentle pat telling me all would be well.

The right at 8pm on the dot, the introduction of Bohemian Rhapsody began to play on stage and the crowd went nuts.

The boys gave the audience a well earned Queen show, singing all the favorites like “Bohemian Rhapsody”, “Somebody to Love”, “Killer Queen”, “We Will Rock you” followed by “We Are the Champions”, and “Crazy Little thing called love” and “Another one bites the dust”.

It was then Freddie gave the crowd as well earned “Ay oh” which they all echoed back.  He kept the audience on their feet with how quick he would sing the note or have them screaming when he would hold a note.  At the end he proclaimed.

“Alright!” The crowd all cheered loudly. “Now ladies and gentlemen, this next song is gonna be something different. It’s written by a wonderful friend of ours, heck she’s an angel to us. But tonight, she will finally break out and we shall witness first hand of a future Rock Angel being born. So New York we’d like you to give a warm, Queen welcome to (y/n) (l/n)!” The crowd all cheered and I was practically frozen backstage.

I almost didn’t want to move but I took a deep breath and slowly walked out onto the stage adjusting Becky’s hat on my head with my head held high and the guitar in my hands.

The audience cheered louder as I came up on stage and Freddie turned to me and embraced me and I somehow heard him say through the screaming crowd.

“Own the stage darling, we’re right behind you.” I then walked up center stage up to the mic that Fred had adjusted to my size.  Even though I couldn’t see the audience, I knew what the stage’s size was and had seen all the seats before showtime and I already had pictured in my mind that all of them were filled and they were all looking right up at me.

I turned to Freddie and he mouthed to me.

‘Breathe.’ I took a big shaky breath in and exhaled out as I closed my eyes before opening them once more.  I turned towards Brian, Rog and John and they all nodded to me.

I adjusted the guitar in my hands and had everything plugged in thanks to the team and I took my right foot and slammed it down on the stage.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Like a heartbeat.

Roger then accompanied me with the drums and I turned to see Brian, Fred and John clapping their hands in the air to get the audience to clap along.  Soon thousands of people were clapping in unison as I began my song.

*Me (Queen)*

I followed my heart into the fire Got burned, got broken down by desire I tried, I tried but the smoke in my eyes Left me blurry, blurry and blind

John and I soon picked up the accompaniment with the guitar and base. I turned towards Fred who stood at the piano and he gave me a confident nod before allowing me to take the stage for a while. I then turned the volume up on my guitar and once the chorus hit I just let go.

I picked all the pieces up off the ground I've burned all my fingers but that's gone now Got the glue in my hands

I'm stickin' to the plan Stickin' to the plan that says

"I can do anything at all” I can do anything at all

This is my kiss goodbye You can stand alone and watch me fly 'Cause nothing's keeping me down gonna let it all up Come on and say right now, right now, right now This is my big hello 'Cause I'm giving, never letting go I can finally see, it's not just a dream When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free (Oh oh oh) (Oh oh oh) (Oh oh oh)

Feeling more confident, I then took off Becky’s hat and tossed it into the audience and I continued the song.  My boys backed me up on the vocals but for the main singing, they left it all to me.

I was a girl caught under your thumb But my star's gonna shine brighter than your sun And I will reach so high (so high), Shoot so far (shoot so far) (She’s) Gonna hit, gonna hit, hit every target

Make it count this time I will make it count this time

This is my kiss goodbye You can stand alone and watch me fly 'Cause nothing's keeping me down I'm gonna let it all out Come on and say right now, right now, right now This is my big hello 'Cause I'm here and never letting go I can finally see, It's not just a dream When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh)

It was then Brian and I doubled out on our guitar duets.  But when the moment came for me to explode on the guitar solo I had in mind, Brian allowed me the chance to shine so that he wouldn’t upstage me (like I mentioned, even he feared me at this solo).

I then sang in acapella for a brief moment letting my sorrow take over for a brief second but refused to shed anymore tears as Roger came back up with the drums and the rest of the boys followed behind me as we finished the song.

This is my kiss goodbye You can stand alone and watch me fly 'Cause nothing's keeping me down I'm gonna let it all out Come on and say right now, right now, right now This is my big "hello" 'Cause I'm here and never letting go I can finally see, It's not just a dream When you set it all free, all free, all free

You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free (oh oh oh) You set it all free

I slid across the stage on my knees as I just allowed my final solo to take over and then die down. I was so overcome with the adrenaline the entire stage was almost silent to me.  But when I began to recover, I could hear stadium cheers of a real Queen audience, only they weren’t cheering for Queen.

The roar of applause was for me.

I couldn’t even get up as I was overcome with emotion lowering my head and sobbing tears of happiness.  I was soon lifted by Brian and engulfed into a group hug by my four boys.

“Didn’t I tell you all? We just witnessed the birth of a true Rock Angel! Give it up one more time for (y/n) everybody!” Freddie proclaimed into the microphone.  I waved to the audience and raced backstage.

After the second half of the concert was done and our trip to New York was over, the boys came piling into the dressing room where I was recuperating after my performance and I was once again tackled into a group hug of them all piling up on the couch and hugged the hell out of me.

“Oh darling you were amazing out there!”

“You were fantastic!”

“You are a Rockstar now love, welcome to the club!”

All their praises made me feel so good in side and made me forget all about my heartbreak.

“I say this calls for a celebration!” Proclaimed Freddie.  He then took out the champagne and poured into five glasses and we each took a glass and Freddie toasted, “To our lovely and sweet angel (y/n). Who proved today that heartbreak is never the end. You prevail through it and become one beautiful, shining star in the heavens. To (y/n)!”

“To (y/n)!” The boys praised as they toasted to me.  I lightly clanged my glasses to them and I added.

“But none of this would’ve been possible without you guys giving me the confidence to get on that stage.”

“No love, that was all you. We didn’t do a damn thing.” I smiled at them and we continued the celebration long into the night.

*Extended ending*

It was another several months after and Roger and I spent the day together.  He was actually helping me move into a nearby flat that was right around the corner of where he and his wife were currently living that was up for sale.

After helping me move in, we had lunch together and that’s when someone tapped my shoulder so I lowered my sunglasses and saw Adam standing over me.

“Hey (y/n).” he said quietly.

“Adam.” At his name Roger went to sit up but I took his wrist and held him back.

“Listen, I’ve been doing some thinking and I was a real wanker for bringing Becky into our flat and sleeping with her. I want you back baby, you’re my best girl the love of my life and I can’t live without you. Please will you take me back.”

Oh I knew exactly what kind of game he was playing.  For you see shortly after my first concert with the band in New York, record companies left and right were trying to have a piece of me but I stuck close with my boys and had Miami be my record executive.  

Currently now I am in the works of my first album and on a few songs I do have my boys featured with me.  I was being paid big money while Adam here probably got dumped by Becky by the look of his unclean state and needed to be supported now, so he thinks he can crawl back to me and hope that I’ll forgive him for breaking my heart just so he can live off my well-earned money.

I put my shades back over my eyes and I said to him right in his face.

“You were. The way you turned your back on me after three years of a relationship that meant nothing to you but everything to me. You are worse than Paul if not up to his speed Adam. Which is why I am going to do to you what I should’ve done the very first day I met you in the University cafeteria.”

I then took my ice cold water that had just been refilled, took him by the loop of his pants and dumped the water down his pants.  He cried out at the freezing cold on his balls while I took my pasta and dumped it all over his head and then topped him off with Roger’s pie to his face.

I didn’t even care if I had an audience watching me, he deserved to be humiliated just like he humiliated me.

“Tell Becky I said hi.” I sneered happily as I grabbed my jacket and walked away.  I felt Roger’s arm go around my shoulder and he said.

“Couldn’t have done it better myself love, I’m so proud of you.”

“Really cause I can still feel my hands shaking.” We both laughed and he brought me close in a one armed hug as he kissed the top of my head and we headed back to my new flat.

[thetrueghostqueen]

A Fake Not So Fake Marriage- Chapter 21

Masterlist cover chapter one  chapter two ??? chapter four  chapter five chapter six chapter seven chapter eight chapter nine chapter ten chapter eleven chapter twelve 5 chapter fourteen chapter 15 chapter 16 chapter 17 chapter 18 Chapter 19 chapter 20

A/N- I decided to revamp this chapter for dramatic purposes.

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

It's been almost nine months since Bangtan last saw Ji-ya. Two weeks after she disappeared the guys returned home to Seoul. The trip that started out with nervousness and joy ended with sorrow and heart break. All of the men were at a loss. They couldn't handle their own sadness let alone help each other through it. For the first time since they got back together after losing her the first time, the seven men parted their separate ways. It would take eight months for them to reunite and even then it wasn't willingly.  

Each of them received a summons to be at Min manor on a specified date and time. Although none of them were surprised that the others were there, they weren't exactly jovial in greeting. Emotions were high and the tension was thick.

  Yoongi and Hoseok looked upon each other with longing and sadness. Neither of them would have ever entertained the thought that anything could have separated them. Their love for each other was strong and could overcome anything. Maybe they were naive in their belief since all it took was a little princess named Ji-ya and everything came crashing down around them.  Now looking at each other after so long both thought the same thing. Could they ever reconnect? Was it over?

Namjoon and Seokjin believed the same way that the other pair did. Nothing could break them apart.  The difference between the two couples was massive. Even though they parted ways for a time, neither of them believed that their relationship was over. They both understood that they needed space to grieve and accept. Seokjin knew that Namjoon would be spending almost all of his time trying to fix the shattered pieces of his little brother's heart and he was okay with giving the space to do that.  

Seokjin slowly gravitated towards Namjoon. There were no words of "I missed you," "I love you." Without speaking at all the two embraced as if it was only hours ago that they'd seen each other.  Seokjin didn't ask how he fared and Namjoon didn't either. They just shared all the love that they felt for one another with a hug.  

The three maknae's were the last to show.  The older four looked at them. A plethora of emotions swirling in their eyes.  The eight months didn't look as if it helped the three youngest at all. They looked as if they barely survived a horror movie. Jimin looked pale and unkempt. Heavy bags under his eyes, hair in all directions and greasy. His body seemed to go through a horrible transformation. He was thin almost deathly thin. As pale as he looked there was also an indescribable tinge to his skin.  Jeongguk didn't look as pale, but he did look as if the eight months transformed him from the Jeongguk they knew and loved to a complete stranger. The male before them now had piercings and tattoo's. He didn't seem to fit into they scene that they were all a part of. He looked as if he'd be more at home in a smoky bar or club than outside a mansion. Taehyung looked a mess. He was a heartbreaking sight to see. He was pale and visibly broken. His arms were wrapped around himself so tightly it seemed as if that was the only thing holding him in place. If the grip loosened in any way he would shatter.  

Yoongi was the first to make a move. With quick and determined steps he made his way to Taehyung. Without saying a word, Yoongi gathered the broken male in his arms and held on for dear life. For a moment the others looked on. They didn't know what to do or how to help. It wasn't until sobs sounded in the tense silence that their feet carried them to the pair.  For the first time in eight months the Bangtan Boys were together. For the first time in eight months they hugged.  

The reunion was cut short by a nasaly voice calling their names. With puffy eyes and swollen cheeks from crying the seven men broke apart and turned towards the sound that interrupted them. A short stout man was the culprit that interrupted them.  

"Bangtan? Are you Bangtan?" The man yelled as they stared at him.  

They watched as his shoulders sagged in relief as Namjoon nodded his head at the man's question. The man began to gesture them over, his too tight suit slightly bulging at the seams with his frantic movements.  As a unit they made their way to where the man was standing at the bottom of the steps.

The man smiled a toothy grin as they stopped in front of him. "Welcome, welcome. So glad that you all could make it.  If you all-"

"What's this about?" Jeongguk questioned with an annoyed sigh cutting the man off.

The man paused momentarily and looked at them all in confusion. Shouldn't they know what this was all about? He thought to himself. He shifted his body to stand a little taller and regain his momentary lapse in composure before speaking again. He looked to Jeongguk to answer his question. "This is about your new home, sir. Didn't Ms. Kim inform you?"

"Ms. Kim?" Hoseok balked.

The man standing before them now had a look of bewilderment on his face. A sudden feeling that there was a whole lot more to this situation started running rampant through his mind. He believed that this was supposed to be an easy transaction. Ms. Kim hired him to oversee the renovations of Min manor. Giving instructions that once all renovations were complete, the keys were to be handed over to Bangtan. The way he'd heard it was that all parties knew what was going on. Staring at the men in front of him now, he couldn't help but think that, that wasn't the case. His shoulders slumped in distress. What does he do now? "I guess it is correct of me to assume that you all have no idea what is going on? Are you Bangtan? Do you know Ms. Kim? Is it possible that I sent letters to the wrong gentlemen? -"

Yoongi cut his rambling diatribe of questions off. "One question at a time, sir. Yes, we are Bangtan. No, we do not know what is going on."

"And Ms. Kim? Do you know her?"

Yoongi looked warily at the man. "Did she only interact with you as Ms. Kim? Or did she give you a first name?" Yoongi had a very, very good idea of whom the man was speaking. After all the eight of them were standing outside of Min manor. He just couldn't figure out why the woman who fled from them so drastically, the woman who left them, the woman who had another person's parents drop off divorce papers would use a married surname.  

The man stared back at Yoongi. From the looks of him this man has to be the brother. The woman shares too many similarities not to be the sibling. He just had to remember the name. Yonmi? No. Yunki? No. Youngjie? No, that didn't sound right either. Yoongi? Yoongi? Yes, yes that sounds right. " You are Yoongi, correct?" He smiled again as the man nodded yes in response. Not realizing that the news he was about to deliver would not be taken graciously he began to explain. "Well, your sister Ms. Ji-ya Kim has been working diligently these past months on all the affairs to this estate in order and have it renovated for your use. If you gentlemen would like to follow me inside, I will give you a tour of the house and walk you through all the renovations that were made."

The man turned to walk up the stairs as he finished his explanation. He didn't see the looks on the faces of the men behind him. He didn't see how their bodies stiffened at the mention of Ji-ya. He walked happily and stridently up the steps not glancing back once to see if the men were following. He opened the grand double doors wide and turned around with a huge smile. “Welcome home!”

Bangtan made their way through the doors. The interior was unrecognizable. Gone was the stark white interior that filled every room of the manor. Now the place was filled with black and pops of color everywhere.  

Yoongi stepped away from the group to inspect the changes more thoroughly. As he walked around the main level slowly, memories of years ago played through his head. He ran his hands along the back of the new couch as he made his way around. His body shuddered as he remembered the coldness that was once a part of his daily life. The only things that made his childhood bearable being the men in the room with him and the little sister that he adored more than anything else. He jerked his head towards the door as the sound of it closing echoed throughout the room. Images of a young Ji-ya racing down the stairs grinning clouded his mind.  

As images and memories swirled through his head, his hand grasped the lamp that was sitting perched on an end table beside the couch. His body jolting back into the present as the lamp shattered against the wall. All the pent-up anguish and anger deciding that now was the time to surface. As if his body was on auto-pilot, Yoongi began grabbing everything that he could and trashed the place.  

The seven other men watched with wide eyes as Yoongi broke down. No one knew what to do or say. They remained motionless as he destroyed everything that he could. It wasn’t until he collapsed on his knees and began screaming that any of them moved. Hoseok was the first to Yoongi’s side. He cradled the love of his life in his arms. Silent tears trailing down his own face as he held onto Yoongi through his breakdown.  

The man that summoned Bangtan stood quietly by the front door observing the men around him. He didn’t understand what was going on and to be honest at this point he just wanted to hand them the keys and disappear back to his own life. Seven men in all different forms of severe disfunction was not a part of his job description. He was a lawyer not a psychiatrist. These men seemed as if they needed a good shrink not a house. Not wanting to interfere but at the same time wanting to finish the tour and leave as fast as possible he sighed. “Gentlemen, I am sorry to interrupt whatever it is that is going on but can we please finish the tour?”

Hoseok glared at the man by the door. Who gives a crap about a tour? They don’t need a freaking tour, but they do need this man to leave. The stranger had already seen more than enough of their issues. “The tour is finished.” He stated, his voice sounded almost in a growl.

“Sir, with all due respect-”

“With all due respect the man told you the tour was over. Hand over the keys and leave.” Jeongguk snarled rudely at the lawyer. He glared at the lawyer as the man huffed from his position by the door. The man opened and closed his mouth several times like a fish before finally deciding to do just as told.

Placing the keys on a table by the door, the man opened the door and stormed out of the house. His annoyance could be heard as he made his way down the steps towards his car. Seokjin moved and closed the door behind the angry lawyer.  

The seven of them were now together again after months of no contact. Together in a house that had both some of the best memories of their life as well as dark all-consuming nightmares of loss and heart break. What the future held none of them knew. Hell, none of them knew what the next hour would hold. The only thing that seemed crystal clear to any of them was that the last eight months apart did none of them any good.

[madelainesvixens]

Choni: 62&17

This one is a bit shorter than what I usually write, I hope you still like it, xx

Please continue to sent requests from this list of prompt!

17. “I wish I could go back in time but I can’t…”

62. “You should’ve been there.”

.

To celebrate the big eighteen, Cheryl went all out. It was Riverdale’s version of MTV’s My Sweet Sixteen. The entirety of Thornhill had been decorated with party lights, fancy flower arrangements, balloons and even a lightning dancefloor had been installed in the living room, creating a club-like ambiance. Let’s not forget the photo-booth too!

With a birthday party like this, Cheryl was going to be the talk of the town for a couple weeks - months even.

She even convinced Josie and her Pussycats to go on stage for a special performance. The three girls hadn’t gone on stage since Josie’s departure from the band and won’t be anytime soon given they all will be separating for college in a couple months. They will sing an array of old covers and new compositions from Josie herself. It’s gonna be a hit.

Talking about Josie, here she was, hair pulled back into a low ponytail, looking as gorgeous as always.

“Happy birthday, Cher!” she said, pulling her best friend into a hug the second she found her by the victorian stairs, sipping some champagne off a flute.

“Thanks, Josie,” Cheryl replied. “You look fab in this dress.”

The singer born did a small twirl, the glittery skirt of her dress flowing as she moved. “Have you seen yourself though? I bet Toni can’t take her eyes off you.”

Cheryl sighed sadly, wondering where her absent girlfriend was. “If only she was here…”

Josie furrowed her eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

The redhead froze, realizing she had voiced her thoughts out loud. “I…”

Just in cue, Veronica appeared at her side, mimicking Josie’s actions and wishing the redhead a happy birthday. They chatted for a moment and took some selfies for Instagram and, when Beyoncé’s latest hit resonated through the house and both girls dragged Cheryl to the dancefloor, moving their hips to the beat.

For a few minutes, Cheryl was able to forget about her absent girlfriend but, it didn’t last long because every time her eyes would land on the door, her heart would pick up, wishing Toni would walk in.  

She didn’t.

Cheryl put on a happy face and repeated herself the same mentra: she’ll come, she said she would.

It got harder as the night went on, seeing all the couples kissing, dancing and being glued onto each other. Josie was getting ready with the Pussycats for their performance, needing a moment to sober up before going on stage - she shouldn’t have drank all that champagne. Veronica had joined Reggie’s side, Betty and Kevin doing the same with their respective lovers, leaving Cheryl alone with her thoughts.

Was this karma for being a bitch to everyone all of her life? Was this life’s revenge on her?

Or, was she being delusional about she and Toni’s relationship? Maybe this time it was more than just a rough patch- No. She shook her head, chasing away that negative thought. They’ll be okay, she repeated herself.

Straightening her back, Cheryl walked around the house, making small talk and spent time with party guests that weren’t behaving like rabbits during mating season. She tried to put on a face and have fun but it was hard for her to concentrate on the present moment and enjoy her night because she was so wrapped up in her thoughts of her.

Cheryl watched as Toni gathered her things and put them in her backpack. She was supposed to spend the another night at Cheryl’s but, after finding out her Cheryl went through her emails and sneakily deleted Toni’s email from the photography school she applied to, she was furious and needed to leave.

Like a lot of couples, college caused friction in Cheryl and Toni’s relationship. Toni wanted to study photography in New York while Cheryl wanted to go to UCLA to pursue her actin dream. Being colleges on both extremities of the country, Cheryl was not happy about it. Sha had planned to have an apartment off campus with Toni and live together - just the two of them - for the first time. She wanted Toni to come to her mini movie screenings and be the Serpent’s muse for her portfolio. She had it all planned out.

Until she saw that email.

“You don’t get to make choices for me, Cheryl. I get that we’re dating and you don’t like the idea of me going to college across the country - I don’t like that either - but, this is my dream school. If you get to follow your dreams, I should too.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, looking down. “I can go to New York if you want-”

Toni shook her head, sitting on the bed and grabbing her girlfriend’s hands. “No, Babe. I don’t want you to give up your dreams for me.”

“There’s acting schools in New York too.”

“I know…but you hate New York.”

“I don’t want us to be so far away, TT.”

Truth was, Cheryl was afraid Toni would find a prettier girl in New York, someone who had better hair than her, wasn’t as cligny and was a better chief…and break up. So, Cheryl vowed herself to do everything in her power to keep Toni by her side even if it meant betraying her lover’s trust and deleting an email from New York’s Visual Art Institute.

Love makes you do crazy thing, as they say.

Toni released Cheryl’s hands and stood up, finishing packing her things. “I need to take my distance for a moment..to think.”

“Are you still going to come tomorrow?” Cheryl asked, referring to her birthday party.

Toni looked up, a faint smile on her plump lips. “I said I would, didn’t I?”

It was almost midnight and there was still no sign of Toni Topaz. Her hopes lessened and her broke more as the hours passed.

A hand on her arm pulled Cheryl out of her head. “It’s time for the cake,” Veronica said, pulling the birthday girl to the table where the three story red velvet cake was presented, a big candle with the number 18 on top.

As all of her friends sung ‘happy birthday’ to her, she had to force a smile and swallow her tears, trying to not fall apart while her guests were there. Cheryl blew her candles and everyone clapped and cheered. Flashes of cameras attacked her, going blind for a few seconds from the bright light. She put on a fake smile for the photos, knowing they will be on social media when all she wanted to do was curl up in her bed and cry.

She didn’t come.  

All night she made up scenarios in her head. She imagined Toni bursting through the doors and kissing her, them dancing together to old Madonna hits and, later on, sharing a piece of her birthday cake. But, none of that happened.

While Betty was on cake duty and everyone’s attention was off her, Cheryl eclipsed herself to the bathroom. She couldn’t hold it in anymore.

She climbed the stairs, hurrying to her quarters, heels clicking on the floor. Cheryl tried closing the door but someone slipped in behind her.

Josie.

The raven haired girl had followed her to the bathroom, having noticed the sadness in her eyes as she blew off her candles.

“She said she’d be here.”

As soon as the words left her lips, tears overflowed and streamed down her porcelaine face. Without saying anything, Josie pulled the redhead into a hug as her body shook with sobs.

For once in her lifetime, Cheryl didn’t want anything elaborate or expensive gifts for her birthday, she just wanted Toni’s presence in her life. She would’ve been so happy but, alas, that was the one thing the pink haired Serpent couldn’t give her.

“What do you do when the one who means the most to you is the one who didn’t show?” she asked quietly, her words breaking Josie’s heart.

Josie held her best friend tighter, not knowing what to say.

.

After everyone left, Cheryl removed her party dress and red lipstick, changing into silk sleepwear. She slipped under her covers and, just as she was about to call it a night, she got a call from Toni.

“Happy birthday, Babe.”

All night, Cheryl had imagined made up scenarios of Toni bursting through the door and kissing her, them dancing together to old Madonna hits and, later during the night, sharing a piece of cake.

But, none of that happened. Because Toni didn’t show up.

It’s crazy how something so simple could do so much hurt.

“You’re an hour late,” Cheryl pointed in her true fashion. “You should’ve been there. You said you would.”

Toni sighed on the other side:  she was right. “I know. I long hesitated to come or not but, when I made my decision, it was already too late,” she explained. “I’m sorry, I didn’t make it. I wish I could go back in time but I can’t.”

“I’m sorry too.”

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

You Don’t Love Me - Gerard Way x Reader

Request: Hi! Could you write sth about Gerard x reader? They are dating, and reader for some reason (anxiety, hate mail, etc... you choose) thinks that she isn't good enough for him. He finds out and comforts her? Thank you!

Warnings: drug and alcohol abuse, mention of planned suicide

Word count: 1 931

Reader: female

You had first met Gerard during the hardest time of his life. You had been friends with Frank for ages and he had asked you to join My Chemical Romance on tour to help with putting up the stages. You had said yes immediately. You loved the music they were making and you had arrived at a point in your life where you were uncertain how you wanted to continue, so spending some time touring through America at the side of a good friend seemed a pretty genius idea.

It had not taken you long to realize that Gerard was addicted to drugs and alcohol. He was a sweet guy when he was sober, but the alcohol turned him into a person you pitied, not someone you wanted to befriend. Gerard had liked you from the beginning. You were the only girl on the tour bus and you were always patient and listened to the things he said. He often came to talk to you. Mostly during the few hours when the alcohol had worn off and he had a clear mind. Those were the times when he realized how screwed up his life was, and he needed someone to talk to. You always listened. Not only because you pitied him. You wanted to help him and you liked him. Sometimes you wondered if that was even possible because his whole personality was distorted due to his addiction, but you had a feeling he was an okay guy.

Then came the night he almost tried to kill himself. You had been sound asleep, not knowing about Gerard’s thoughts until the manager called you. He told you Gerard had wanted to kill himself but he had talked him out of it. The manager asked you to keep an eye on Gerard until he fell asleep. Of course you got out of bed immediately. You threw on some presentable clothes and found Gerard sitting in front of the trailer, staring into the early morning sky. You were not sure how to approach him, so you simply asked him, if he wanted breakfast. At first he denied, but when you told him you had seen a diner just a few streets down that was serving freshly baked waffles, he agreed to join you. Over waffles with cream and strawberries and a chocolate milkshake Gerard told you what had happened. He ended the breakfast with the promise never to touch drugs or alcohol ever again.

The next few weeks were hard, but Gerard was strong and stuck to his promise. You liked sober and clean Gerard a lot more than the drunken version. You even found yourself swooning over the singer when you were alone.

Half a year after Gerard had decided to abandon drugs, he asked you out. You had been a couple since.

~*~

It had been two years since Gerard and you were dating and some time ago the band had published their latest album ‘The Black Parade’. You were still working as a roadie for the band, helping with the stage and the merchandise. You loved touring the country with your friends and boyfriend and for years there had been no problems. Until two months ago Gerard had made your relationship public.

It felt like a switch had been turned. You suddenly felt insecure about everything you said and did. You felt insecure about the way you looked, about the clothes you wore and the sound of your voice. You felt insecure about how to touch and kiss Gerard and about the way he felt about you. Especially about that. You loved him, there was no doubt. And Gerard always said that he loved you too, but did he actually mean it?

These thoughts polluted your mind. You only held him back. You were not beautiful enough to be looked at by him. He was weary of you. He hated the way you kissed him. He hated the way you talked and he hated the way you called his name. He hated everything about you. He was only together with you because he pitied you.

It was all too easy for you to believe these dark thoughts, even though you had no clue where they came from. Everything had been fine, until Gerard had opened up about the relationship in an interview. But now you did not only have to deal with your own thoughts, you also had to deal with thousands of jealous teenage girls, who saw you every evening building up the stage.

“Whore”, “fat cow” and “bitch” were along the more harmless things that were thrown at you. What really hurt was the “He doesn’t really love you”. It was so easy to believe them.

You had been suffering through these thoughts for almost two months, when you decided that it was enough. By now you had convinced yourself successfully that Gerard had never loved you and that it would be for the best if you broke up with him.

Originally you had hoped it would be a quiet evening where everyone could relax after the concert so you could take Gerard outside and quickly break up with him. But instead the band went to a club to celebrate. You were not sure what exactly they were celebrating, but Gerard and Frank had dragged you along none the less.

The music was loud and made your heart vibrate. Colorful lights danced over the crowd of people who moved to the rhythm of the music. Things had started out calmly. Everyone had sat at the bar. Frank and Ray were drinking beer, Mikey had lemonade, and Gerard and you shared a coke. When the glass was empty Gerard had pulled you to your feet. His newly black dyed hair fell into his eyes and he smiled widely as he led you to the center of the dancefloor. He pulled you close to his body, pressing himself against you and wrapping his arms around your waist. You swayed to the music and after some time he started kissing along your jawline. You closed your eyes and let him. This would be the last time he would do that. You heart shattered at the thought that you would lose Gerard forever, but it was no use if he did not love you. And because you loved him so much, you had to set him free. You ran your fingers through his hair and inhaled his scent. He smelled of sweat and cigarettes but you had always liked that special smell on him. This would probably be the last time you would smell it.

Suddenly Gerard pulled away. His eyes were staring into yours as if to read your thoughts.

“What’s the matter, sugar,” he asked over the blaring music.

“I’m breaking up with you.” You did not even really think about it anymore. These words, which you had to say to set him free, had burned themselves into your mind over the last weeks and it seemed so natural to say them.

Gerard stared at you, his eyes widened in shook. Slowly he shook his head, grabbed your wrist and pulled you through the crowd of people outside.

The fresh breeze felt good on your sweaty skin and the air was cool and full of oxygen, unlike inside. Gerard dragged you a few meters away from the exit where no people were listening, and turned you around to face him.

“Say that again,” he demanded.

“I’m breaking up with you,” you repeated. You felt your heart break at the thought that this was it. Two years together with the man you loved ended here, in front of a shitty club. At least there were lots of beautiful girls who he could have for himself after he had gotten rid of you.

Gerard still stared at you. You tried not to look at him, but when you did, you saw tears swimming in his eyes.

“Why?” His voice was quiet and shaking.

“I don’t deserve you,” you began to explain. “You deserve someone who is beautiful and funny and clever. You deserve someone you love.”

“But, but…” Gerard helplessly stuttered. He was scared, terrified even. The girl of his dreams, the person he had been in love with since he saw her for the first time, was breaking up with him, because she thought he did not love her.

“It’s okay,” you whispered. “I understand. I wouldn’t want to be with myself either.”

“Stop!” Gerard’s voice was louder than he had thought. “Stop this bullshit! Stop talking like you’re meaning it!” Tears had started rolling down his cheeks. His beautiful hazel eyes were full of sadness and he tightly clung to your hand.

“But I do,” you tried to tell him, finally starting to cry as well.

“No you don’t. You can’t. Because you are so fucking beautiful and so fucking funny, and clever and I love you so fucking much!” Gerard did not care anymore who could hear him. Hell, if he had to climb every skyscraper in NYC and scream it from the rooftops that he loved you, he would do that, if it only meant that you would believe him. “I love you more than I love my own life!”

“Don’t say that, Gee, please don’t,” you pleaded. “You don’t have to pity me for loving you.”

“I don’t, I don’t!” he assured you. “I love you and I would die for you, but really I just want to stay with you forever,” he sobbed, pressing your cool hand against his warm, tearstained cheeks. “Please, (y/n), I love you, I love you so much and if you leave me, I could as well die. Please believe me.”

You stared at the man in front of you. His hair was greasy from the sweat of the performance and the fake fog in the club. His face was hot in your hand and his tears dropped off your fingers. But you did not try to pull back. You would have tried to tell yourself that he was acting, but why should he? And how could he react so realistically, so fast? Did he really mean it? Did he really love you? Were you really breaking his heart? Suddenly he looked up at you.

“I’m just never gonna let you go,” he declared, tightening his grip around your hand. “You’ll have to stay with me forever. Until you don’t love me anymore… you do love me, do you?”

Quietly you nodded.

“Then I’m not letting go,” he told you. “Is that okay?”

Again you nodded and a smile spread over his face.

“Do you believe me, that I love you, and that I won’t let you leave me like that?”

“Yap,” you murmured; your voice quiet and wet from your own tears.

“Great,” Gerard stepped close to you, still tightly holding onto your hand. “If you ever have doubts like that again, you’ll let me know, promise?”

“Promise,” you answered, finally looking up at him.

His eyes were brighter than usual, from crying. His cheeks were wet from the tears and his lips were red and swollen.

“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he announced, his eyes softly locked with yours.

“Okay,” you agreed.

He leant over to you until his lips were almost touching yours. “Hey,” he whispered. “One more thing. I love you so fucking much, I can’t even put it into words, okay?”

You wanted to tell him you loved him too, but he had already captured you lips in a soft kiss that said more than a thousand words.