#its still weird. like im waiting for the other shoe to drop but i think thats just me

[asummersday]

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[goldenlikedayl1ght]

born to die - m. murdock

a/n: IM NOT DEAD i am very busy with finals but this has been rattling around the old noggin for a while now. i took a lot of inspiration from @ellephlox 's fic strawberry rhubarb which i 100% reccomend bc its better than most fics including this one! hope you enjoy! as always reblogs and comments are always appreciated! <3 warnings: oh boy. torture (cutting, burning) some sexually suggestive talk (nothing happens but it's not consensual) readers dad abused her, nightmares, lots of major character death (but not permeant) ANGST!!! but with a happy ending! kidnapping, medical stuff, cursing, and if i missed anything, let me know! word count: 4.8k summary: as matt murdock's wife, your life is rather full of surprises. getting kidnapped by wilson fisk takes the cake as the worst one. pairing: matt murdock x wife!reader now playing: born to die - lana del rey "choose your last words, this is the last time/'cause you and i, we were born to die"

You would think after patching him up too many times to count, five years without him, and countless sleepless nights worrying if he was alive, you would think you’d be used to Matt Murdock and his world of surprises.

And then you get kidnapped, so maybe you’re not so immune to surprises.

It’s really such a shame too, because you’re storming out of the apartment, too angry to take notice of your surroundings.

Silly, foolish, ditzy you.

Because it isn’t like Matt hasn’t told you time and time again that you need to be careful, especially when you go out alone at night. But he’s so angry that he doesn’t even think about the potential dangers of Hell’s Kitchen at three a.m. when Daredevil has been tucked away for the night and Matt Murdock comes back out to play.

He’s been taking more and more patrols because with Fisk being out of prison he can’t help but be constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

How silly he was to think that maybe he could have it all—A successful law firm, good friends and a loving wife.

Silly, foolish, ditzy Matt.

But after a week of nonstop patrols, you’re both fed up and tired, and above all, you’re yearning for each other. Neither of you allow yourselves to be totally happy all the time. It would just make everything too easy.

So, after yelling at each other over, what? Patrols? Cases? Burnt dinners? You’re freezing on the streets, and you get about five blocks before you stop and rub your eyes.

This is dumb, you rationalize. Of course, you’re both stressed out and tired, but you’ve gotten through rougher times before, and you both made an oath. To each other, in front of his God, to love each other no matter what.

You realize you left your wedding ring on the table, the ghost of the metal around your finger haunting you. You were dumb for leaving and Matt was dumb for telling you to go. You’re made for each other.

You turn around to go back to your shared apartment, and then, someone grabs you from behind. Your first instinct is to yell for your husband, but you don’t get the chance to before you’re knocked out, by what you can only guess to be a gun or maybe a large fist.

• • •

You wake up in this dingy room, the lighting not suitable for much of anything except to make you afraid. The set up is almost comical and in a fucked up away, stereotypical for a kidnapping. You’re tied up to a chair, and the lights shine only bright enough so you can see shadows and rats scurrying along.

The air is this weird musk of salt and earth, and you realize you’re near the docks, and that’s about all you know about your current location.

Your head is still pounding from whatever it was you were hit with, but you can see another chair a few feet from you and a wooden table with various weapons laying on it. You don’t feel good about this one. Also on the table is an old school record player. You have no idea what the intention is with it.

You try to keep your cool, knowing that wherever you wander, your husband will not be very far off. That whatever is happening, he will be coming to find you no matter how upset he is for whatever it was you were fighting about earlier.

And then, out of the shadows, there he is. 

But he’s too big to be Matt, and he has a man standing next to him.

Frank, maybe?

And then you realize who this man is.

He’s Wilson Fisk, the kingpin who has done nothing but torture and kill people, shoving it in Matt’s face for years. Matt only met you after Fisk was put back in prison, and you know at some point in the five-year blip without Matt, he had escaped prison.

So, this is the first time you’ve had the pleasure of meeting Mr. Fisk. When he meets your eye, you do nothing but stare.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock. It’s a shame we must meet under these circumstances.” He tells you, taking a seat in front of you. His henchman stands behind the chair.

“It’s regretful to say the least.” You tell him, not intending to make any more of an enemy out of him than Matt already has, not right now.

“I wanted to congratulate you on your wedding. I remember my own, it was a rather special day.”

You know that was the day Matt took him down. The night that he, Karen and Foggy took him down.

“I’ve heard stories. It seemed like a lovely day.”

“You’re a much more gracious guest than your counterpart.”

“Well, I’m sure people say similar things about you and yours.”

He seems to consider this for a moment before nodding.

“You’re probably right about that, Mrs. Murdock. I wanted to tell you I’m terribly sorry these are the circumstances in which we are finally introduced. But it seems Mr. Murdock has been interested in finding out more about my endeavors. And you see, we simply cannot have that. I made a promise not to hurt Miss Page or Mr. Nelson but it seems you were not included in that deal.” Of course not, it had been a long time before you showed up. “So, you’re how we’re going to send Mr. Murdock a message.”

Huh.

So, this is how you die.

Well, you might as well go out with a bang.

“You see, Mrs. Murdock, When I was a boy—”

“I’m going to stop you, Mr. Fisk, because your sob story is rather dull. I know who you are. You were beaten by your father, just like I was. The difference is that I don’t use that as an excuse to murder my way to the top of the food chain. And you can torture me, assault me, whatever you feel you need to do. But if you think for a second that I’ll forget who’s coming to stop you, you are sorely mistaken. And if you think he’ll ever stop trying to find me, you do not know my husband very well.”

Fisk stares at you for a while, his gaze hardening into a glare.

“You’re right. You do know who I am. Because we’re rather similar.” He stands up and nods to the man nearby. “If Murdock can hear her far from here, make sure he hears her screaming.”

Then Wilson Fisk walks away, and you are left with the sickening gaze of a man who has no good intentions.

 The man goes to the record player and starts to play a song you recognize quickly as “Fly Me To The Moon” by Frank Sinatra. As he does this, he speaks,

“Hello, Mrs. Murdock. I’m John.” You stay quiet, and he just enjoys the song.

He picks up a knife from the table and goes to you, this grin on his face that makes you sick.

But you remember a trick from not only your childhood, but also from Frank who told you the key to remaining strong under torture—Distraction.

You stare straight ahead, trying not to mind as the man runs the knife over your skin. You think about Matt. You imagine him in his wedding suit, the smile he had on as you approached him down that aisle. You think about when he asked you to marry him, and—

A sharp pain slashes down your arm, cutting open the shirt you’re wearing. You yell in pain, before moving in to try and take deep breaths.

You can do this. Matt will be here soon.

You continue to breathe through the anxiety and the pain, trying not to think too hard about when John hums along to Sinatra’s voice, guiding his knife around your skin. Another cut finds itself on your shoulder.

This goes on for a while, with the classic song looping over and over again. John never seems to tire of it, no matter how badly you will for it to end. As the song ends in one particularly good loop, John hits your face hard, and your nose starts bleeding.

You try to think of Matt’s voice. You don’t listen to John’s torments, knowing it will only egg him on further. You just want him to burn at that point.

By the end of… Countless Frank Sinatra serenades, you have cuts littered around your body, dry blood on your face from your nose and tears running down your face. When he’s eventually done, two men cut you out from the chair and drag you along to a smaller, darker room. You are left in there with a small meal, and you just huddle against a corner, nearest a barred window out of your reach.

And then, you begin to speak for the first time since you saw Fisk.

“Matt,” You whisper, “I’m by the docks.” You tell him, not sure if he can even hear you. “Please, I’m sorry for everything, please just come find me..” You mumble, too tired and aching to try and do more.

• • •

The next day, or what you presume to be the next day since you have no way to tell how much time has passed, you’re woken up by a loud banging on the door of your.. cell..?

The same two men enter and drag you back to the room, where John waits for you.

“How are you feeling today, Mrs. Murdock?” He asks.

You glare.

“Fuck you.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

“What happened to the polite young woman Mr. Fisk and I met yesterday?”

You’re filled with unprecedented anger.

“I said, Fuck you!”

He wastes no time, grabbing a lighter off the table and starting the record player again. Once more, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room, and you’re pretty sure once you’re done with John, and then Fisk, you’ll bring Sinatra back from the dead just to kill him again.

You’ve never really been a violent person, but you suspect that it lives in the worst parts of you, just as it did with your own father. You’re much better at keeping it all at bay. Besides, it does you no good to be violent while you have Matt. He’s plenty angry for the both of you.

Oh, Matt..

This is how time passes for you. While John tortures you, burning you or carving into your skin, you think about how great it will be to choke the life out of the singer… And you think about Matt. When you’re in your dark little room, you talk to him. Even if he can’t hear you, you must hope that he’s looking for you.

• • •

Days pass. How long have you been here?

One night, you have the following dream:

It starts out as a memory. A memory of you and Matt. You’re lying in bed with him, and the sunlight is hitting his face just right. You love this memory, it’s one you recall often. He just has this angelic look to him.

Yeah, most people who encounter him, especially at night, meet the devil. But occasionally, you get glimpses of the angel you know he is. He’s sleeping, and you think in this state, he is the most relaxed you’ll ever see him.

Then, before your eyes, the dream shifts and you’re in this black void, on the ground.

Foggy, Karen, Frank, and Matt stand around you. You run to Matt but hit a clear shield keeping him from you. You bang on the glass, well, maybe it’s glass, you don’t know. You try to scream, but your voice never reaches your ears. You begin to look around, looking for a way out.

An eerie version of ‘Fly Me To The Moon’ plays as you glance over to Foggy and watch in horror as his body begins to turn to ash, just like Matt and Karen did when they were blipped. You scream, banging against the shield, but your screams are silent.

You glance back and see the same thing happening to Frank. No, no, no! It was never supposed to happen this way! Frank and Foggy, they lived! They got their time! They don’t die like this!

And then Karen starts too. You start sobbing, not wanting her to go. You had missed her so much, and you only just got her back. But soon enough, she’s gone too, and you’re left in front of your husband.

His hand comes up to rest on the forcefield and he frowns softly.

He says your name gently, and then adds, “You know it couldn’t last forever, right?”

And then just as quickly as before, he is gone again. You remain there in that void, sobbing and screaming though no noise reaches you. This can’t be it! You just got him back, you needed him! You couldn’t take being alone for another five years… Or more…

The dream transforms and you’re in this grand ballroom. People are dancing elegantly and you’re in this.. obnoxious ball gown. But across the room, you can see Matt. He’s dressed in an all-black suit, with a red masquerade mask covering his face. The mask has little red devil horns on it.

Now, the orchestra plays their rendition of Sinatra’s romantic classic. And you step towards Matt, attempting to make your way towards him, only to be met with a masked man, beginning to twirl you around.

You jump from man to man, until eventually, you’re dancing with a man in an all-white suit, a man you quickly recognize as Fisk. No matter how hard you try to escape his grasp, he holds on tighter. The two of you stop dancing now, amid the crowd of moving bodies.

Fisk grabs your chin and tilts it in Matt’s direction, just in time for you to see him bowing to another woman, kissing the back of her hand. Your eyes widen and you think, this can’t be real.

“When I kill you,” Fisk says, “He’ll move on. You’re easily replaceable, Mrs. Murdock.”

And then, in an instant, the woman with Matt pulls out a dagger and plunges it deeply into his abdomen. It’s then that the other dancers, besides you, Fisk, Matt, and this mystery woman, disappear. Matt turns to you and falls to his knees, clutching his stomach.

He tries to crawl to you, blood seeping onto his hands and the beautiful ballroom floor. He yells your name, and the woman stabs him again from behind, and you watch as your husband dies. You hear him screaming, hear him yelling your name. But Wilson Fisk keeps you in place. You can do nothing but watch as Matt Murdock meets his end again, unable to save him. You start to scream, thrashing against Fisk, ready to claw your way to Matt.

You wake up screaming, the nightmare haunting you. A guard bangs on your door, yelling at you to keep it down.

It was just a nightmare, you tell yourself. Maybe Matt heard your screams.

Maybe he’s already dead.

You force yourself not to listen to the voice in your head that says that.

• • •

One day, Fisk visits again, only this time, He’s covered in blood. That damn song is still playing.

You just stare. They have long since stopped tying you up, recognizing that you no longer have the energy to try and fight back.  He has this sick grin on his face.

“Good evening, Mrs. Murdock.” You say nothing. “Have you been enjoying your stay with us?”

You glare.

“I hope Matt kills you when he gets here, because it will be a lot less painful for you if he does it instead of me.”

Mr. Fisk just laughs at this and tosses something at your feet. You get down off the chair to see what it is.

Your face goes pale with realization. You pick it up and slip it on your thumb, with it being too big for your other fingers. Matt’s wedding ring. You know it’s his, it has your name engraved in braille on the inside. How did he get this?

As if reading your mind, Fisk speaks again. “I took it off his body after I killed him.”

Your head shoots up to him. What did he say?

“No.” You deny. “Fuck off, I don’t—I don’t believe you.”

“Your husband is dead, Mrs. Murdock. I killed him with my bare hands because he was stupid enough to come after you. Your friends will mourn you and Matt Murdock for a while, and the city will come to the realization that Daredevil did nothing but harm. I win, Mrs. Murdock.”

You feel tears start to fill your eyes, and you realize, no. He hasn’t won because you’re still alive.

Maybe not for long, but you are.

You gather the rest of your energy and leap up, lunging at the large man covered in the man you love’s blood. And there’s a part of you that gets it. Okay, universe, you win. Most people don’t get a second chance like the two of you did. And now he’s dead, and soon you will be too. You can at least try to kill Fisk.

But you barely get a scratch in, yelling and screaming obscenities at him, as John grabs your arms from behind pulling you away. Fisk laughs and shakes his head again.

“It’s been lovely knowing you, Mrs. Murdock. I’m sorry you’ll have to die, you had so much potential. John, when you’re done doing whatever you’d like to her, kill her.” You hear him say it, but you’re blinded by rage, by grief.

John laughs behind you and forces you back into the chair, tying you back up once more. He looks at you, enraged and grief stricken, and just shakes his head.

“You and I are going to have a lot of fun.”

He leaves for a few minutes, and you realize this is the first time you’ve been left alone in this room. You tug at the knots and realize that while John is a gifted torturer, he’s not much of a knot tier.

So you manage to wiggle out of the rope, approaching the table in front of you. You don’t have much time. Okay, maybe you won’t be able to kill Fisk, but John will do. You take a golf club off the table in front of you and turn to the record player.

You begin to smash the thing in, angrily cursing at it as Frank Sinatra’s voice fades off into nothing. When the song ends, the lights turn off. And then, red flood lights turn on in their place.

A back up generator. Lovely. You think that your smashing of the record player couldn’t possibly make the whole building’s power go off, but you don’t really care at that moment.

You’re tired. You won’t make it far, but you need to try. You grasp the club and open the door, being greeted with a man you don’t recognize. You smack him in the face with the club hard enough for him to fall to the ground.

The red lighting adds an eerie tone to the hallways as you creep around, concussing various henchmen that Fisk has working for him. You don’t mean to kill these ones, only John.

But you’re running out of stamina, peeking around corners. And that’s when you see him. John is just standing there like he knows you’re there.

“Come out to play, Mrs. Murdock?” He calls, approaching the corner where you are waiting on the other side.

You focus on his footsteps, taking a swing around the corner when you know he’s close enough. You hear a sharp crack! As he falls, and you can’t see the blood in this lighting. Good. You begin to hit his head in, sobs mixing with yelling. You hate him. You want him to die before you’re killed.

But you don’t get the pleasure, because a pair of arms are pulling you off him, and you begin yelling.

“No!” You yelp. “No, Fuck you! Let go of me! Stop!” You think it’s another one of his goons, and you just want to be able to finish the job before you die. The figure forces you to drop the club. “Please, stop, don’t hurt me—”

But he’s saying your name and turning you around to see him. You know that voice.

“Sweetheart, hey, it’s just me—” He pants, his hands going to your cheeks. “It’s me, It’s just me. I’ve got you.”

And you can’t believe your eyes.

“Matt..?” You whimper, not able to believe it. “No, you’re dead, this has to be—”

And then, Matt does something he wouldn’t do for anyone who wasn’t his wife. He pulls off his helmet so you can see his face. Oh.

“I’m right here. I’ve got you.” He says softly, his thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

That’s when you start to sob, falling against him, no energy left to carry yourself. His arms wrap around you, and you say it again.

“He told me you were dead..”

“I know.. I’m sorry, I don’t know how he got my ring but we’ve gotta get you out of here.” He tells you.

You’re so tired. You’re slumping against him as you try to walk, the warmth radiating off his body just drawing you to sleep.

The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Matt’s voice, begging you to stay awake.

• • •

You see flashes. Your parents, your dad. Nightmares of Fisk killing Karen, Foggy, Frank, and worst of all, Matt. You see John’s sickening grin on the body of spiders, and you’re chased by his cruel laughter.

But the dreams are filmier compared to what’s happening around you. You know Claire shows up at some point, and you’re thankful to her. Karen sits next to you sometimes, petting your hair, or sometimes it’s Foggy, talking your ear off.

You have fever dreams of Frank in full military gear, tormenting you.

“Not so tough now, huh, girl?” He teases. “You really thought you’d kill the big bad wolf? Solve all your boyfriend’s problems?”  

You say to him, “Husband, He’s my husband.”

• • •

Even in your dreams, where you were slashed and burned aches, and you long for the pain to end.

You wake up only once throughout these dreams, and it’s when Karen is playing music to try and calm you from your insistent nightmares.

Only one song snaps you out of it, and you hear it clear as day.

‘Fly me to the moon,” Sinatra sings, “Let me play among the stars,’

He only gets through a few more lines before you’re sitting up on the couch, screaming.

“No! Stop, please!” You cry, and in an instant, Matt’s arms are around you. “Matt, please, don’t let him hurt me, please! Please don’t die, don’t let him keep hurting me!” You beg, in a hazed, frenzied state.

“I’ve got you, No one’s going to hurt you..”

Karen turns off the music somewhere deep in the apartment.

“No..” You begin to grow tired in his arms again. “Matty, please.. You can’t die, please..” You whimper out, continuing to mumble out pleads as you fall back into your weird dream state.

• • •

You really wake up two days later. Matt’s hand is clasped over yours, and he’s just.. Sitting on the floor next to the couch, praying into your clasped hands.

Praying for what, you don’t know.

Your body aches. But something in you tells you you’re safe.

“Matt…?” You whisper gently, and his head shoots up.

“Hey..” He says softly, one hand leaving yours, coming up to brush your hair out of your face. “There she is..”

“You’re alive..”

He seems a little concerned you still had some doubts about this.

“I am. Fisk lied to you.. He never even touched me.” You nod.

“Did I kill him? The man you found me..”

“No. He’s just in a coma, I checked. He’ll be brought to justice.”

“I only wanted him dead when I thought you were too..” Because really, you would have nothing if Matt wasn’t there. Nothing to live for. When he was blipped away, you had the hardest time readjusting to life. Now you know if he died again, you’d probably go off the rails.

No love story is saved more than once. You used up all your luck. Now it will be doomed if he’s ever killed again.

“I know.” He said gently.

“How long have I been out? How long was I in there?”

“A week, and then you were out for four days here. They got you good, baby..” He says gently. “I’m sorry I didn’t find you earlier.”

You frown softly.

“You did find me though. That’s all that really matters anymore.” You know you’ll be nursing scars for a long time. Physical or not.

“Still..” He said gently, and he brings your hand up to kiss it gently. “And I’m sorry I told you to leave that night. I was just upset, but this past week and half.. I feel like I’ve been going crazy without you. No matter how mad at you I am, I never want to spend another night without holding you. Knowing that you could have been…” His voice breaks, and he just sighs, taking a moment to lean his head on your hand. “I love you, so much.” He kisses your palm again.

How are you so tired again? All you’ve done is talk to him, but it feels like you just ran a marathon.

“I love you. It’s why I married you. Because you and I, we were always meant to be with each other. No matter what.”

He smiles weakly and reaches over to the coffee table to grab something. He slips it on your finger and for the first time in over a week, your wedding ring is back where it belongs. You see Matt is wearing his. Your Matt. Your husband. The only one you were ever meant to be with.

“Did Claire patch me up? I remember her being here..” He nods softly.

“Yeah, we.. we really owe her one. She was a huge help..”

“Karen and Foggy were here… And Frank?”

“No, no, Frank’s still in Illinois, I think?” You nod softly. “You were mumbling to him, though. I heard you… you were telling him you had a husband.”

You would laugh if it didn’t hurt.

“He called you my boyfriend. I had to correct him.” You grin.

“That’s my girl.” He hums. Matt gently lifts you so you can sit up and drink some water. Then, he climbs onto the couch and brings you close. His arms wrap around your freshly wounded skin and you have a rare moment of gratefulness for his blindness.

You sit in silence for a while.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks gently.

You think about it all. The torture, the cuts, burns, the small room. Fisk’s laughter, John’s grin. But something sticks out to you.

“Fisk said I was just like him.”

“What?”

“We.. We grew up similar, Matt, I mean.. What if he’s right? What if the only thing separating him and I is one bad move?”

Your husband frowns and shakes his head.

“Sweetheart, you are the.. the most amazing person I’ve ever met. You’re the complete antithesis of Wilson Fisk. Yeah, you grew up like him, but you’re living proof that you don’t have to go down the path he did just because of his background. You and I both know that there will never be a world where you end up like him. Especially not with me.”

You find comfort with his words. Not only did you make every choice not to be like Fisk, but you must’ve also made all the right decisions if in the end, you ended up with Matt. Oh, it won’t be easy, you know that for sure. You’ll never be able to listen to Frank Sinatra, and your upcoming nights are filled with nightmares and hauntings.

But one day you’ll be okay. One day You’ll be able to sit in the silence without thinking about it. One day you’ll get the image of dead Matt out of your head. You’ve spent many nights wondering about who will go first, you or him.

And then you realize the best-case scenario is that the two of you die at the same time, never living another moment without each other.

How would there ever be a world where you and your husband weren’t with each other, even just for a moment?

[system-of-a-feather]

It is really wild how heavily my feelings towards possibly having a semi-normal semi-low stress semi-free life soon swings WILDLY between the normal and expected joy and excitement, and sheer depression and anxiety. It's part of the motions itself and it's the trauma speaking, but the idea of not having my childhood trauma placing strict psychological walls and limits of what I can and can't do just... in a weird way it seems almost miserably boring right now. Like literally 3 hours ago I was excited and relieved but now Im dreading it - and I'm pretty sure I'm still me, maybe I'm still fused with Data as well and its just me swinging between two dominant sides, I can't tell but good god the swings from relief, excitement, joy and just an existential crisis and sense that without the chronic stress and pressure and extremely rigid walls I've been living in if I would even still be me

Which is an anxiety thing, because obviously Ill still be me and obviously life will still suck and be stressful in its own ways, but man is the idea of being relatively free came out of left field and I've only had a month to really realize how close we are to it.

I'm honestly... kind of scared to be happy. I don't think I'm ready for it XD

Like straight up, I'm terrified of being happy and healing now that I'm at a huge threshold point in healing probably. Im just like

Wait wait

Wait no wait

Hold up slow down

I haven't thought about this decision genuinely beyond a theoretical haha thatd be nice but would never happen

And its at my front door

What do you mean Ill have OPTIONS in life other than survive

Im not ready for OPTIONS in life

God someone hide me I'm not ready to live and thrive jesus christ

Most graduating college students I feel have this anxiety around graduating because they have to live on their own, take on independence, and have to adult permanently on their own and that stress I'm good I love that I'm ready for that

But god damn does the freedom of not having to prepare for the next test every 3-4 weeks, the grind to do more and more, and then returning home and not having my own place - that shit, THAT shit scares the fuck out of me

Make me survive on $5 for food a day, fine I can make that work I'm used to and good at struggling and suffering. Give me a home and money that I make myself and let me live with my supportive and loving fiance and engage in my hobbies when I get the chance because I succeeded at immense cost at preparing for the work force?????????

Relaxing?! ENJOYING LIFE?! terrifying.

Like Im writing this satirically but its unironically the thing thats had me dysregulated for a fucking month. It's getting better and more manageable than before but good GOD have I never more understood the thing my therapist tried to get me to understand that "I have grown comfortable in my misery"

Like I don't want to stay in my current life style god no its not sustainable, but to get BETTER? To have a chance at something nice? Somehow right now that sounds scarier than the current life cause man, I know my misery. Even when my brain genuinely doesn't see this as a "waiting for second shoe to drop" the level of which I am so unfamiliar with existing in anything but a chronic trauma response state and the possibility that I might not be in a chronic trauma response state TERRIFIES me.

And Im really here going "Don't worry we still live in a dystopian capitalist society and life will still suck its okay" to ease my anxiety and good god

I fucking god PTSD man. Someone without PTSD aint like this man

-Riku

[glorifiedbones]

i moved now and im so worried they wont like me. so far everything is okay but i guess im just waiting for the other shoe to drop. even though everything is okay i cant help but still feel so unsettled. i lay in this bed and look at my desk and stare at the ceiling and something isnt right. im not right. theres something wrong with me. this is wrong. i just want to eat cinnamon bagel. i hate using the bathroom they can hear me pee and it makes me so self conscious and i need to do my laundry but i feel so awkward and i want to shower. honestly i want to jerk off i keep thinking about just fisting my cock and thinking about my fictional characters fucking me and holy shit am i horny but than if i think too long about it i get depressed again and than i dont even want to do anything remotely of the sort. i check my online messages and feel so overwhelmed with needing to respond to people but even just a couple months ago i had triple the amount of people texting me its so weird how i could sort of handle that than but now i cant handle this.

i feel like i traded one miles for another. i dreaded talking to miles and feeling obligated to talk to them and part of me kept talking to them in case they gave me more money. its literally the exact same with this person too i dont want to talk to them quite frankly i want to block them. i feel like an awful person because at first i was so excited to talk to them but now we dont even really talk or chill or vibe or anything. they’re such a nuisance to me i get so uncomfortable around them. and i fucking despise when people keep deleting messages in the fashion they do, how do you demand and expect a conversation from me but fucking delete everything you day before you even give me the chance to reply? like holy shit thats so annoying YOURE so annoying. i felt such immense relief when i finally cut off miles and i didn’t even block him or un-add him i just told him i didn’t want to be friends any more and although he still kept messaging now he’s stopped and i dont even think about it most days. this guy just gosh he’s annoying. some people really dont have friends for a reason its clear as day.

i feel so frustrated and i hate not having a job. like i hate working but jesus not having money to spend is god awful and i already spent money i shouldn’t have. i havent worked in ages but i already spent 101$ and i need to stop. i need to control myself. worse because only 1 of those dollars went to me. gosh i want to scream. i feel so frustrated and i miss my cat. im so worried he wont get along with the other cats.

i want to chew my bails and hide under my bed and curl into a ball and i want to rip my skin and nails and hair off and i hate the way my body and skin feels. i hate looking down and seeing my stomach and chest and legs and arms and feet and hands and i hate looking in the mirror when im naked and seeing my thighs and back and ass and i just hate the way i look. im worried when i get another haircut it wont be good as this one now and im worried that one day ill make my family so upset they want to kick me out or demand i go back home and live with my mother.

i hate hugging that man and i dont want to see or hear or look at him again and i hate his lectures and his tones and inflections and seeing his stuff around the house and i dont like him i dont want to forgive him for what he did to me and i dont think i should have too and there are some days i think im over what happened and others its all i can think about and i feel so fucking dirty and disgusting and i wish he had hone away but instead i had to go away i always have to go away and be pushed to the sidelines and im waiting for the day that someone picks me and chooses me wholly first over someone else. i want to be the first pick.

i want to fall in love but i dont want to live long enough to let it happen because i swear to god im going to have to be thirty five or forty before i find someone whos interested in me and im not even twenty five yet. i hate living. i dont want to be here anymore. theres so much pressure to do things and even though i just sit and play games most of the time the pressure is caving in all around me. i wait for the other shoe to drop because eventually it will and all i can do is hope that im prepared for the day it slams down.

i need to be ready and im not. i dont think i could hold a job down even if i wanted to. i cant hold a relationship im so annoying and undesirable and not even in a self deprecating way in a i know that am i ugly? no but im not attractive im not cute or pretty or hot or handsome i just am average and normal and i exist.

i wish i could have lost my virginity to her. reddit girl. to be so close i could touch her skin and look in her eyes and her hair and feel her warmth. i always mess everything up. shes so pretty and shes my friend and im okay with being friends. im more than willing to accept being friends. but it doesn’t mean i dont wish some things turned out a different way. part of me makes it hopeful that if someone as beautiful and perfect as her could have been interested in me for a time makes me wonder if i have a chance at all. but than im reminded that even though im average and surround myself with desirable people that doesn’t mean im desirable. i should never make that mistake. i wont.

its one thing to be confident to think you could get everyone you were interested in. its another to recognize no matter how nice i dress or how much money i offer to shell out or how desperate i am for a real connection that im picky and wont settle for less than not what i deserve but what i want. no matter these things i wont see the light at the end of the tunnel. and i dont deserve these things, i desire them immensely. i want i want i want i want i want and i feel as if i always take but somehow i take the things i dont truly want.

i miss reddit girl and i miss mcdonalds girl and i miss tumblr girl and i miss discord boy and i miss i miss i miss i miss but i cant reach out in those ways and these people never wanted me the way i want them. i want marriage and happiness and perfect ending and i remember in ST how steve mentions wanting six little nuggets and although i dont want six kids i could picture myself living on a farm with my wife and two brats who get a southern drawl or midwestern farm accent because we live in the middle of nowhere and we have two cows and a white picket fence and a wrap around porch. i picture living in a city apartment and having out first kids and our first pet and cooking together in our small kitchen flat and the neighbor to our right is so fucking loud but every-time we hear them argue we press our heads to the walls to hear what they’re saying and giggle about it later with each other. i never picture myself growing old because i dont believe ill live that long, but than again i always picture killing myself when i was eighteen.

i didn’t make plans for anything because they all consistent of my family burying my corpse, maybe pouring out a glass for me on the first year but never again after that, my mom would argue about the bills of the funeral costs and maybe she would be sad for a little while but eventually shed get over it. they’d all get over it. im a forgettable person im not significant and im not a key family member i just exist and take up resources. i wish i succeeded when i was younger. when i was fifteen and sixteen. but i still managed to bungle that one up so i swore id slice my skin open and than i was sixteen when i tried for the first time and i dont know why i didn’t again after that.

it didn’t feel particularly bad and i remember how delicious the cut felt when it rubbed against my jean clad legs. i remember that year i wore a nice suit to my homecoming. the last homecoming. the last time i danced with a pretty bird. and maybe its selfish of me but i wish i had more time i wish i enjoyed the party more i wish i still talked to those people i wish i wish i wish i wish

i dont always wish i was dead anymore per say i just wish i didn’t exist. i hate the fact that i exist and still make all these mistakes and i hate that i dont know things and i hate that my future will either be my cold corpse or be me living to work until the day and i did and it wont even be at a cool place either itll be somewhere i hate that makes me stand on my feet all day and my body will be in constant pain twenty four seven but im scraping by already so i cant call off and i wont have friends and i wont have a wife ill live in a one bedroom apartment because im too broke to own a house and ill be lucky if i get my own washer and dryer in there and my bathroom sink will be slightly broken and i wont cry myself to sleep because i wont have the energy and i wont kill myself because ill keep telling myself it’ll get better one day it’ll get better one day it’ll get better one day but it wont not really ill work up until the day i die. ill be forty two with a mountain of debt, probably a manager at walmart because the target wouldn’t hire me, and ill think back to the time i was seventeen making a grilled cheese on my eighteenth birthday watching selling sunset all by myself and itll be the same only ill be forty two turning forty three and ill be an alcoholic neck beard because i wont have friends and all i do is work sleep and play games on my computer and pay bills and think about killing myself but too chicken shit because if i fail i wont have enough money to cover the cost of the medical bills

sometimes i think about gouging my eyes out and i wish i was interesting enough for a serial killer to take notice of me and put me out of my misery. i feel pathetic because my life isn’t even that bad! i have a good life. i just only seem to waste good opportunities. im never quite going to be good enough im just always going to exist painfully and regretfully and i really wish i would just slit my wrists and jump into a random body of water because if i dont bleed out to death ill drown because i dont know how to swim

you know i seriously considered killing myself again the other month. i really did think about grabbing a knife from the block and slitting my throat in the bathtub so it would be easier to clean and the only reason i didn’t was because my aunt had already out a deposit down on my birthday present and i would feel bad because it’d be too expensive and just a waste of money. i have to keep finding little things to keep myself alive over but its so exhausting. because whats next after this birthday present? i dont have things planned and i dont have friends and i dont have a job or money or a future. the only future i have is pathetic. im pathetic.

i hate that i wont actually just do it either. she just bought groceries and all i can think about is i can starve because because shed just have wasted 368$ on groceries so i have to eat them. i just want to cut my skin and i dont even think i have an excuse to not do it anymore i just have procrastinated it. part of me wants to gorge out on everything just so i can make sure it wasn’t a waste but i already didn’t finish eating that large Wendy’s french fry and i felt so get wrenchingly awful about it. i feel pathetic all i do all day is play games and thirst over fictional people and i wish id just grab myself by the balls and go do something about making the life i want to live a reality but i dont. i never end up doing anything right.

i feel like im just being dramatic at this point there are so much bigger issues in the world than mine. my minuscule ones that pale in comparison to the tragedies of the world but it fucking sucks because this is MY world this is the life i have to live with everyday and be okay with and deal with. i wish i had the drive and passion that i see others do on social media that sure struggling through this but ultimately work hard to get what they want and they dont stop until they do. in theory that could be me! i have the capabilities to do things! and yet i dont. i just sit here in this bed thinking ‘poor me’ and whining about how ‘im depressed’ and ‘no one likes me’ it’s so fucking annoying truly. i feel like i was more depressed when i was younger so how can i be now? and i hate pitying myself because i dont deserve it and i hate when i say no one likes me because people do like me but it feels more like they’re obligated to like me and not there because they genuinely want to be which is a whole other mind fuck but still. people talk to me. i have a few online friends. my family talk to me. maybe that’s it but still. but still. but still. but still i feel the way i do anyways.

im gonna go make a cinnamon bagel now i think

[nikrangdan]

lovestruck!enhypen x reader

pairing: lovestruck!enhypen x reader

genre: FLUFF fluff Fluff

description: how enhypen would be if they became lovestruck by the reader ☹️☹️ this is such an adorable request!!!! itll vary for each member ur relationships so you’ll either be strangers or already dating etc.

a/n: idk if all of them are lovestruck exactly bc i just got carried away with the fluff for some of them and idky maknae line revolves around sleeping BUT IDC sleepy!enhypen is the best 😁

———————

HEESEUNG

u worked at a pretty popular clothing store

and well well well heeseung had shown up dressed very much your style so u were like

Wow who is this guy....

he was alone just looking around

and there were like 10 other people in the store but u wanted to talk to him so bad so u went up like

“hi, welcome! are u finding everything okay?”

he was looking through a rack of shirts and turned around when he heard u but WOW

when this man turned around he looked even better in person u couldnt believe it 😫

BUT IT SEEMS HE FELT THE SAME BC U SWEAR HE BECAME SO FLUSTERED WHEN HE TURNED AROUND

his eyes got so wide u almost laughed it was so cute ☹️

he stuttered and was like “oh um im okay”

Aw man

but u said “okay then! let me know if you need any help finding anything or if u wanna use a dressing room!” and u sent him ur nicest smile u could give

his eyes were still kinda wide open and u gave him one last look before turning around😢😢

BUT THEN HE SAID SOMETHING

“w-wait! actually.. um....uh.. do u.. do u guys have sweatpants..?”

u giggled to urself on the inside bc u knew he just made that up on the spot

“we do! here, follow me”

while u were showing him the clothes u guys had exchanged names and had some small talk

and that was the start of something very Beautiful

and since then he has been coming almost everyday to visit u at work 🤗🤗

JAY

jay swore he found new things about u to love every single day

and today wasnt an exception!!!!

u knew jay had been really tired and just worn out from work recently so u had decided to make him his favorite meal for dinner

a nice little surprise for when he got home ❤️

and also the anime he was watching ready on the tv for u two to watch together :(

u had literally been preparing all day and u even decided to go out and buy dessert too

AWESOMEST PERSON EVER U ARE!

it was 8pm already and jay should be getting home now

u set the table all neatly and put on one of his sweaters

AND WOULD U LOOK AT THAT HE GOT HOME AS SOON AS U WERE DONE

Fate 🔥🔥

romantic stuff like this wasnt really ur forte so this was out of the normal for u

but u wanted to do something for jay because he did stuff like this for u alot

the table isnt in view when u walk into the apartment so he wasnt able to see his dinner yet

“hi” you smile brightly and go up to hug him and give him a little kiss

he had his bad slung over one of his shoulders and he was taking his shoes off in the doorway after he closed it

“hey.. it smells pretty good in here” he gave you a tired smile while one of his arms was wrapped around your waist

“really? it smells normal to me” you giggled before walking to the kitchen area together

he stopped and looked at u with LITERAL HEARTS IN HIS EYES when he saw the table

jay: ❤️_❤️

“y/n..”

“surprise!!! you know im not good with words but i wanted to show you that i can cook” you laugh “and that i love you very much and im so proud of you”

jay doesnt say anything but instead drops his bag on the couch and gives u the Biggest Hug Ever

ur face is practically smushed in his chest and his hand is resting lovingly on ur hair :(((

he loves u so much im so sad

JAKE

“layla!!! layla where are you?” jake was yelling quite loudly in the massive park he was in the middle of

yeah jake lost layla.. uh oh

quite a coincidence you found the cutest dog you’d ever laid eyes on

and she seemed to love u very much

the dog had made u topple over and now she was excitedly playing with you while you were sat on the ground laughing to your hearts content

after a minute of playing you had got up because you knew she was somebodys lost dog and her owner was probably looking all over the park for her

“okay.. lets go find your owner before they have a heart attack” you giggle

just as you said that though, you heard a boys voice yell “LAYLA!!!!”

the dog next to you looked in his direction, tail wagging and tongue out, but she didnt move an inch from her spot next to you

it made me you laugh out loud

as you were watching the boy run up to you, you noticed how cute he actually was

Omg..... ur heart started beating a little faster

“hi..” the boy hunched over with his hands on his knees breathing very heavily “you have my dog”

“uh yeah” you laugh “sorry about that, she ran over to me a couple minutes ago and i was just about to go find her owner”

“its okay, thank you..” he trailed off to find out your name and finally looked up to meet your eyes

“y/n” you told him

“y/n” he repeated with a small grin on his face “im jake”

“hi jake” you lightheartedly give him your hand to shake and he chuckles before taking the offer

“and it was nice meeting you layla” you crouch down to meet her level and she licks your face making you fall on your butt

you laugh and jakes quick to help you up

“layla! thats not very nice” he jokingly scolds her and pets her head

after u got up u bid goodbye to the two before jake invited u to continue walking around the park AND HE EVEN BOUGHT U AN ICE CREAM

Is This A Date, Jake? 😫😫❤️❤️❤️❤️😳😛😛

SUNGHOON

“you should be more careful” you scold the boy sitting with you standing between his legs

sunghoon had apparently gotten elbowed in the face by his friend and scratched by his friends cat on accident????

“it wasn’t my fault! he turned around and i just happened to be in the way. and i didnt even do anything to the cat!” he whined

“i didnt say it was your fault. i said to be more careful.” you tried to sound stern

u knew ur logic was making no sense but u just thought it was so fun to mess with him

he let out a sigh and gave up, slouching over again

you were stood between his legs, wiping the blood away and applying ointment

“im just kidding, you’re so cute” one of your free hands comes up to rub his hair

a small grin pops up on his face and his arms come to rest on your waist

he looks up at you while you focus on tending to his wounds

and u guessed it WITH LITERAL HEARTS IN HIS EYES

❤️_❤️

“you know y/n” he begins

you hum in response, letting him know you’re listening

“im gonna marry you one day”

you freeze in your place

it took you a minute to collect yourself because you felt like your heart almost leaped out of your chest

“who says?” you joke

he leans up to give you a quick kiss on the lips before sitting back down

“me.”

SUNOO

you noticed sunoo had been really tired lately and u just wanted to make him feel better :((

the boys were going out and invited you two obviously but you could tell sunoo was iffy about going

“uhh..” you trail off and look over at sunoo who was laying on the couch

“you know what guys? i think me and sunoo are gonna stay home today.. you guys have fun though!” you bid goodbye to the other boys and they all understood and left

you dont even know if sunoo knew they had left already because when you walked over to him his tired eyes were glued on the tv

“hey” you leaned against the couch and looked down at him

“y/n? are we going soon?” his eyes move to the top of his head to look up at you

you start laughing and he literally goes 🤨???

“silly, they already left! so what do you wanna do?” you plop down next to him and he was in the process of sitting up

“what? when did they leave...” his mouth drops open

“like 2 minutes ago” you giggle, leaning back to rest your head

sunoo had sat still, pondering for a moment

“why did they leave us?” he turned to look at you

your eyes met his “well i figured you didnt wanna go... you didnt, right?”

he slowly shakes his head “how did you know?”

you give him a sneaky smile and jokingly push his arm “because i know you so well”

he laughs at this and leans his head on your shoulder

“wow y/n.. im impressed” he grins, snuggling into your arm

your other arm crosses over to pat him on the head, leaning your head to rest on top of his

“but thank you y/n..” his eyes slowly close to rest “im thankful for all the little things you notice about me”

u literally go 🥺

your hand goes down to squeeze his and he falls asleep peacefully on ur shoulder ☹️☹️☹️❤️

JUNGWON

“y/n..what is that” jungwons eyes can barely open as he tries to comprehend whats going on while hes waking up

you haphazardly tap around the bedside table trying to turn off the new alarm you set last night

and that new alarm was jungwon singing 🤗

“its you, dummy” your eyes were still closed but you turned to face jungwon and snuggled closer to him

“wha- where did you even get that???” he was almost fully awake now, staring down at your half asleep figure

you yawned before answering in your i-just-woke-up-and-i-should-probably-drink-some-water voice “remember when you sang me to sleep last week? yeah i was secretly recording you. no biggie” you pat his chest twice and leave your hand there, content with life at the moment Lol

“y/nnnn” he whines “change ittt i dont like it”

“you’re kidding.” you deadpan, shocked he would say such a thing!!! “jungwon you sound like an angel threw up on a field of flowers full of puppies and kittens! okay thats kinda weird maybe not that”

jungwon giggles a little and sits up so he can sit against the headboard while your head rests on his lap

“you like my singing that much?” you can hear the smile in his voice as he asks you

you finally pop one eye open to look up at him, a goofy grin in your face

“i love your singing”

his hands run through your hair and you let out a sigh at the feeling

jungwon doesnt say anything

all he does is admire you

you can feel his eyes on you so you open your eyes again (both this time🙏🏼) and meet his eyes

“i can feel you staring straight into the depths of my soul, jungwon”

he laughs at this, bring his other hand up to pinch your cheek

“i’ll sing for you whenever you want me to y/n”

NI-KI

“shut up sunghoon, hes sleeping” you whisper-scolded the boy

ni-ki was currently asleep on you

literally SPRAWLED all over your body and you were basically mummified

by nishimura riki

his legs were tangled in yours, his head shoved into your neck, and his arms were bent around you in ways you didnt know were humanly possible

“you literally have an alien taking a nap on you y/n” sunghoon deadpans before walking out the room

“when you’re asleep sunghoon i will send you into a spacecraft for the rest of your life so you can go see aliens for yourself”

“wowww im so scared y/n” the boy remarks and shuts the door

you half laugh and half scoff before turning your attention back to the ipad screen sitting on the bed infront of you

well

kind of infront of you because ni-ki’s acrobatic position was basically blocking the view

you were having a decent time watching the show playing, definitely not the most comfortable person on the planet at the moment

until you felt the body on top of you.. rumble?

you knew that feeling

ni-ki was laughing

HOW and WHY the hell was he laughing ?!!?!!?!

“what the hell?” you look down at him and his face is shoved near your shoulder but you caught a glimpse of his big smile

his laughter gets louder and you still dont have answers yet

“why are you laughing???? i thought you were sleeping?????” you try to push him off you but he was persistent in laughing in your shoulder (??)

after a couple minutes of you just letting this happen

ni-ki finally speaks!

“you’re so funny y/n” he finally pulls away from you and wipes his tears

“what are you even talking about... and how long were you awake, you sneaky kid” you poke his chest

he leans down again to hug your waist and start cuddling you again

“10 minutes”

“so you’re telling me i could’ve freed myself from that god awful demon EMBRACE you had me in 10 minutes ago???!!”

ni-ki starts laughing again and looks up at you

“thank you for threatening to send sunghoon to aliens for me y/n” he grins

you laugh, finally understanding what the boy had been going on about

“sunghoon deserved it”

[darkfinch]

Uh oh, just binge-read everything in the Darkest Timeline Eliot au and help i'm dyingggg!! And now I'm thinking about the long way down job and Eliot being on the team for the first time without any ulterior motive! Just being himself! And waiting for the other shoe to drop! And then Parker! Having feelings! Do we even get a "we do what they can't", a "that's what makes us us"? Like can he even compare himself to her or any of them? Can he comfort her? Who is he now that Moreau's gone?! !?!?

this is 800 words im so sorry but iVE RETRIEVED UR ASK FROM THE ETHER <3

OOF. oh MAN the long way down job...i feel like the long way down job is really like...uncertain, in this au. tentative. its a weird fragile little space. because the team puts moreau away (and doesn't lock eliot up with him, something eliot's vaguely shocked by) and then nate promises them all a break after san lorenzo...but eliot's pretty sure they're not going to ask him to come back, right

because the second the adrenaline from the job dies down, and they process what they've learned about him, they won't want to keep him. of course they won't! how could they! he stationed moreau's men outside of maggie and nana's houses like six months after meeting this team. how do you move forward and Build on that. the whole foundation's rotten.

SO the team splits up, and eliot's off trying to figure out what the hell he's going to do with himself now that there's no moreau AND there's no team, there's no Moreau's Eliot and there's no Their Eliot and what does that leave him with exactly. he bakes a lot of bread. he wears out his punching bag and moves out of his probably-moreau-funded apartment.

and then out of the blue nate just. really reluctantly calls eliot up again because they need him for this surprise mountain job? it's been less than 2 weeks they're on a tight deadline and he didn't have time to even THINK about getting a new hitter

and it's tense!! it's weird!! it's no one trusting eliot but still kind of, instinctively, trusting eliot and feeling like they Know him, and eliot (who doesnt even really know Himself at this point) is on his best behaviour and trying to figure out who he's supposed to Be now and who they Want him to be now

(maybe there's a brief moment of hesitation re: sending parker up a mountain alone with eliot. maybe they all kind of do the math at once like, nah, he'd literally cut his own arm off before hurting parker actually i think we're fine. he’s proven that much at least,,,but there's still the hesitation.)

......and then parker has Feelings. and tears up to eliot about it. parker (a person) has Feelings about whether or not she's a Good person, because she wants to do the right thing, wants to be Good like alec and sophie and nate, but it's a thing she has to actively try at. parker has Feelings about that in eliot (a knife in a person suit)'s general direction and asks if that makes her Bad.

like what do you say to that!!!

i don’t even know if he COULD compare himself to her in this moment, because like...in canon, eliot’s had a lot of years of dragging himself into being Better. he’s done the hard work. he’s taken stock of what he is and decided to draw some hard lines in the sand about what kinds of jobs he will and will not take, what kinds of orders he will and will not follow, etc. how he’ll treat people. how he’ll let people treat him.

after the san lorenzo job, he’s building on a solid foundation he’d laid before the show even started, and he Knows who and what he is, and he’s made Peace with it.

and this eliot doesn’t...have that? he’s not there yet! he has skills, but not hobbies yet, because he’s missing the pure enjoyment of them. this is an “i can cook, which makes me more useful” eliot, not a “food is life, this is my art” eliot. he’s a big ol blank space where a person should be. he’s coming off of a decade of damien moreau in his ear and not a lot of good before that, either.

SO i don’t think he can in good conscience compare himself to parker here,

1) because he’s not very far removed from the Moreau Atrocities he’s been committing yet,

2) because i think it’s only Through Working With The Team that he actually was forced to sit down and absorb & process what he’d been doing for moreau (and for the people before moreau) & decide how he felt about that. decide TO feel something about that at all, and

3) because lumping himself in with her just feels wrong, here, somehow. she's trying to be a good person and he's still trying to be a person, full stop

i think maybe he does still say (carefully, very carefully), hey, well, it was a good thing it was You. because nate and sophie and hardison are different, right? they’re softer, they act based on how things Should be instead of how they Are sometimes. and they’d die trying to get this guy out, because it’s Right, it’s Good, but it wouldn’t make things better for anyone etc.

and parker’s the one to be like. then it’s a good thing it was Us

[warmau]

☆ [nostalgic] summer romance!au ten another late birthday au (again) but hey ten time :3 find others here: johnny | haechan | taeil | taeyong | mark | jaemin | yangyang | yuta | sicheng | chenle | kun | yukhei | doyoung | jaehyun | jungwoo

not knowing what to say isn't a foreign feeling to you, yet when you come face to face with ten outside his apartment on this summer morning, you are almost too petrified to even string a sentence together

he's really just........leaving

ten shines a big smile and from the open door you hear kun's exasperated voice asking why in the world ten is packing up his entire existence for a program that's going to last two months

"you look nervous"

ten jokes first, running a hand through his dark hair which he's spent the colder months growing out

"im the one going to a different country and yet you look like you might turn green"

his laughter tickles you and you force yourself out of the weird, frozen feeling, for his sake

"im not nervous - it's just this is our first summer apart since what, highschool?"

ten leans against the frame of his door and lets kun scuttle past him with a scowl

yangyang and hendery bounce after him with ten's insane amount of luggage

"yeah but it's two months, not two decades. plus....you know how much ive always wanted to do this."

right. and here you are being selfish.

"of course, i mean it's literally the birthplace of ballet."

"technically that's italy, but france is a close second."

"i hate you"

ten pulls you into his arms before you register that this is your goodbye hug

"i'll miss you too."

kun drives everyone to the airport, he complains and cries the most.

sicheng gives you a knowing look when ten takes your wrist in his hand and tucks your arm between his.

you ignore the look, and focus on ten. on him. and then - when the switchboard pops up his flight info - he gives a bubbly and excited

"ive gotta go!"

and then summer starts, just as he's gone

"so when are you going to tell him you're in love with him."

sicheng brings the big gulp he stole from hendery up to his lips and you keep your eyes closed behind your sunglasses

"sorry, yukhei's not my type."

"you know im not talking about yukhei."

you dig your fingers into the sand beside your towel, the beach is already so noisy so you pretend you don't hear sicheng, but you still feel him looking.

you guess a part of it is true, you love ten. who doesn't?

is that the core of the issue then, that ten is so available and loveable and charming, that it makes him also unattainable?

or at least, unattainable to you.

you hear your phone buzz inside your bag and sicheng is being dragged into the water by the rowdy rest of your friend group

it could be a text from ten?

your mind excites, but you put out that fire

it's probably just spam.

ten does text and even video call the first two or so weeks while he's away

you get blurry photos of food at cafes and the eiffel tower, random fancy looking dogs being walked on the small, cramped streets

ten's connection is kind of bad - but he still gleams through the fuzzy facetime camera as he shows you around the room the dance academy has provided

pangs of his happiness and excitement seep into you

and then there's the first sign of worry comes knocking and twirling through his door

a group of other dancers, all beautiful and strong, asking ten - from the limited amount of french you catch - if he's done, they're waiting for him to go to a show with them

ten gives you a scattered, quick goodbye. he says he'll video call again.

all you get is an update text almost five days later that has no pictures attached just a;

im ok - by the way i totally miss eating hot chips with you at midnight. ive had like a banana smoothie and that's it.

sicheng and kun are the first to pick up on the shift, you are quietly withdrawing to yourself

nothing makes you laugh

ten doesn't reply to your question about what the paris metro looks like, actually he doesn't even read it

kun nearly tugs hendery's ear red when he shares a snap story of ten pressed cheek to cheek with his new dancer friends in front of the louvre when you're in the same room

the thing is you are not jealous of any of them.

you don't go around trying to find their facebooks, clicking on their instagram profiles, comparing you and them.

you are just sad to your bones that they will understand ten in such a way that no matter how long you two have been friends

you will never, truly know

"you're his best friend"

sicheng reasons on the phone as you stare up at the wall above your desk, littered in old pictures and clippings and your gaze catches on the ticket stub from ten's first-ever solo dance performance

it had been a talent show in highschool.

it had been the first time you saw ten perform outside the corner of his cramped bedroom or the glimpse you caught meeting up with him outside the dance academy

he's in paris, he's with people who love it so much more than i do - they love dancing like he loves dancing.

i cannot understand that.

"i think you were right sicheng."

"im always right."

i do love him. when am i going to tell him?

you hang up after sicheng has his i told you so moment and stare at your screen

a notification flashes across the screen and it's a text from ten

the trains here are blue. i miss you.

you want to reply right away, so you open the message and start typing

i miss you too. actually, i think i finally understand why people who are in love are so hurt when they're suddenly left without their other half and ten you are my o-

you delete the sentence and make a face

nice. i miss you too.

you don't send it - or at least you forget to because your fingers are shaking and you exit out of the messaging app before checking

abandoning your phone, you turn on your side and stretch your hand out to reach the edge of the bed

there's enough space between you and it for someone to fit, so you remember the countless times ten has laid there

smiling and laughing and tickling your face with his sleeping breath

you can't even recall a conversation because there have been hundreds

suddenly you feel a warmth creep up your skin

hundreds of opportunities to tell him - and each time i chose to be a coward.

"you should write him a letter."

"this isn't a movie, what - you think im going to write a letter and he'll jump on the first plane from france to come to my side?"

sicheng cocks an eyebrow as if to say it is a possibility

"no. im not writing a letter. i'll suck it up and confess when he comes back."

you somehow end up writing a letter.

maybe because you really do want to just send a long text spilling your mushy, soft, pink feelings

but you know that's just not what ten deserves

he deserves (and you do too, but you won't admit this) a face to face confession

so you start retelling the moments that flutter up in your heart whenever you think about him

how he makes the room brighter when he's in it, how he dances with every bone, joint, muscle in his body - how he approaches it with no inhibition and true devotion that paints its way across his face when he practices, how he fits perfectly into the hole that grows more massive every day you don't see him

standing there across the hall - coffee in hand, gym bag with his scuffed dance shoes

by the time you're finished - the letter is longer than you imagine. there are parts crossed and scribbled out, repetitive thoughts, and stupid little comments and metaphors that compare ten to flowers or clouds or anything else pretty in nature

you cringe at yourself, but you do feel better

it could be your outline for when the time to actually tell him comes.

you shove the papers into an envelope, write ten's name and the address of his parisian dance academy just for the irony

and then make the mistake of letting it sit on your desk

in a matter of days, it has been swallowed by a bunch of other papers and trinkets

and when you're rushing around your room trying to get ready for another adventure to the beach - sicheng clinks the lollipop against his teeth and fishes it out - curious at the stamp

"do you want me to mail this?"

he asks and you're trying to find those sunglasses you literally just bought and grumble that sure, whatever - you'll meet him out by kun's car.

halfway to the beach, you turn in horror from the passenger seat to look at sicheng in the back

your eyes like saucers and a tremor in a voice

"wait. what did you ask me back in my room?"

sicheng's big smile is red from the candy, "your letter to ten."

and there comes the second pang of dread and worry that takes the overwhelming shape of your summer

oh my god - oh my god - maybe the letter won't even make it. i mean it's a letter to france....it'll take at least a month to get there. wait - it probably didn't even have a stamp on it. oh god maybe the address was totally off and some poor stranger is about to be subjected to my very incoherent feelings.....

every day you look at your phone and there's no texts or emails or anything from ten

his social media has gone quiet too

you throw your dignity down a well and ask all your friends if they've heard from him and they all scratch their heads and say no, it's been maybe a week since they did

your stress then turns from your love letter to a possibility that ten is in trouble

he kind of thrives from attention so it is very weird that he's so off-grid

you decide finally, on the day that it's been exactly a month and one day since he was gone, to call

you hover over the facetime button - should i text him first?

with a yelp, you nearly drop and crack your screen when ten's name flashes across the screen

you settle your breathing and tell yourself he hasn't gotten the letter, there's no way - since when has snail mail been efficient?

you answer and are about to ask what's up when ten waves something into the camera

"i got your letter."

maybe you go into rigor. because ten's eyebrows knit and he asks if your connection is ok, you aren't saying anything

you don't know if it's just because you miss him so much that you're able to drag yourself back into consciousness or because you are curious, in the depths of your mind, what his reaction will be

"o-oh. right- i-"

ten frowns and you think it's coming. the rejection is coming.

"is that why you didn't answer my text? you sent the letter instead?"

"your text?"

"yeah, i said i missed you and you read it and never responded."

a peek of a smile stretches on his pretty, bare face

"i never thought you were so romantic to send a letter."

something burns on your skin but you just try to make sure your hand holding the phone doesn't shake

"im not - i just, it was dumb sicheng said i should write it because - i don't know. he's the romantic, blame him."

"you're the one that said i could make a shy tulip open its petals with my laughter."

"oh god"

that smile turns into a grin

"and that my dancing manages to cast a spell on you."

you hide your expression by turning your face

"are you going to re-read the whole thing to me?"

"should i, you're so poetic."

"don't make fun of me."

your voice is serious this time, small and huddled, because you mean it

worse than being told he doesn't feel the same is to be ridiculed for holding him in your heart like this for so long

"im not making fun of you, the letter is beautiful."

you still can't look at him, it's so ten to be kind before he's cruel

"i could never write something like that - so i thought i would just call you and say it."

you don't need to love song yourself into telling me you just see me as a friend

"i love you."

your head whips back so fast your phone drops and you curse and ten can't help but laugh

"sorry, sorry -what did you say?"

he runs a hand through his dark hair, the lighting in his room is dim and illuminates him perfectly

a large white t-shirt engulfs his slender shoulders as he sits up against the wall

"i love you. i know it's corny to confess over facetime, but im guessing it's more forgivable than text?"

a bubble bursts in your stomach and it makes you feel lightheaded and inhumanely blissful all at once

"i love you too."

"more then friends right, because your letter had this part about kissing im very interested in."

you bite back your lip and nod, both embarrassed that he'd bring that part up too but also seeing ten - your close friend, your secret love - talk about kissing you

makes some of the neurons in your body go haywire

"good, i seriously was scared you might have been pranking me with thi-"

"i would never. im not hendery."

"oh how are they, ive been super busy with the practice for a review so i haven't talked to anyone."

another thing you love about him, he keeps everyone in. he leaves none of his friends behind. he pretends like he couldn't have a care in the world, but he cares more than anyone else.

"he's ok, he almost crashed kun's car yesterday."

ten shrugs, "expected."

and like that - everything is still somehow the same. there is no awkward phase after you've talked about your feelings for each other at all.

because your love doesn't come as a one hit punch because ten is beautiful, although he is to an unfair degree

it comes from the experience of being around him. having so much of him. maybe even getting a little addicted.

you do talk more on the phone, no more long pauses even though ten's practices get more grueling and you tell him to take his time to rest

but he's sweaty on the practice room floor - texting you - telling you everything is sore but the thought of seeing you soon makes it all better

it's three days before ten is scheduled to fly back that he has his review and you are biting your fingernails waiting for him to tell you about it

when you get a youtube link at like three in the morning - you click it and someone has recorded ten's performance

somehow, he looks more graceful than you've ever seen him

a new text comes in when it's almost done

'i think i did well - can i get a reward?'

'you'll get a really good one when you're home'

he sends a winking emoji and you can't fall asleep after because you wonder what he's expecting, you'd meant a kiss - had he meant more?

you wouldn't mind that at all.

xiaojun is being pulled away from the conveyer belt by kun and hendery is asking sicheng for a sip of his starbucks as you all wait for ten's plane to land in the airport lobby

you two have not told anyone - mostly because you know there will be endless questions you won't have answers too and sicheng might literally never let you live it down

so you wait for ten to be here so you can suffer together

you see the gates from his flight open and sicheng mutters that you look like you're going to pop like a goddamn balloon

for once in your life, you don't snide back at him, folding your hands in front of you and tippy-toeing to see over the crowd

and then, like seeing him for the first time all the years ago when you first met, ten comes out

hendery and xiaojun try to go for a running jump, but the older members hold them back because everyone can sense whats coming

you dash toward him and ten doesn't stay still either - you two collide so hard it almost hurts, but you don't care at all

ten's duffel bag falls over his shoulder and your hands are wrapped around his neck before he can even say your name

it's a first kiss that couldn't be more characteristically fit for you

sweet, big smiles tasted on lips, and interrupted by none other than your group of friends gasping in a symphony of shock

except for sicheng - he knew

ten tastes like you imagine he would taste, maybe because in smaller ways you've already had doses of the sunshine that radiates off him before

he keeps his hands wrapped around your waist as he looks down into your eyes

"mon amour"

"is that really all you learned in france?"

"ummm yeah, i don't know how to say let's get out of here and back to my place even though im pretty sure someone said that to me at some point."

you pout, "don't try to make me jealous."

"never!"

ten chuckles as you press your face into his neck and hug him close

the only way you get pulled apart is because someone (kun) reminds you all you're still at the PUBLIC airport

the drive back is a frenzy and everyone wants to know everything and not about just you two - because you're "two" now - but about france and traveling and ten's dancing

like you'd sensed - nothing has really changed

just this time, your fingers are locked in tens. and the warmth you longed for in silence is suddenly all out in the open.

funnily enough, you and ten don't ever write letters to each other again.

ten just doesn't like writing - it takes too much sitting down

and you are horrified everytime he fishes your love confession out of the memory box and dangles it above your head as leverage

it's how he convinced you into adopting the first cat. now you two have three.

so when you and him are deciding the best way to let all your friends know about your upcoming event you cross out mailed invitations

"we can make an email list."

your legs are thrown over his thighs on the sofa and he's resting the laptop on you them

"let's just make an instagram post: wedding in our backyard on thursday - you're invited."

ten pinches his nose

"we are not having a backyard wedding. we could not fit everyone in my dance company into it anyway."

you play with your engagement band and sigh

"fine, fine. what about.....we just call everyone and tell them. if we call kun right now he'll let all of the world know by the end of the week."

ten agrees with a hum, but then starts typing and you lean over to see

"bulk wedding invites? you're giving in?"

he closes the laptop and tosses it to the side, easily and gently pushing you down onto your back to hover over you with a small content sound

"i am. but we don't even have to write the letters - some company will do it for us."

his lips are inches from yours and all of a sudden you're young again - waiting to kiss him for the first time at that airport

"you know we'll still have to write vows right."

he is about to kiss you, he's so close and your eyes are closing

"i'll just read your letter outl-"

"TEN NO!"

he laughs, laughs until he finally does kiss you and then laughs again when he pulls back - the overflowing amount of love that exists in that moment is potent

you tell him to get over that old thing, but he shakes his head

"never, when again in all the lives i live is someone going to say i could make a shy tulip open its petals with my laughter?"

[ssamie]

you’re all i need.

·˚ ༘⌗ reki kyan x gn!reader

·˚ ༘⌗ reki knew he was no prodigy like langa. he knew he didn't have anyone on his side, after all, they were right. he wasn't good enough nor did he stand in the same pedestal as his friends. but really, sometimes, all he needed was someone to believe in him, and someone to stay by his side.

·˚ ༘⌗ warnings: angst?, fluff, sad reki

gen masterlist.      sk8 masterlist.

reki sighed for the umpteenth time as he struggled to keep in his tears. he kicked some rocks with his feet as he walked, wanting nothing more than to be with you right now.

watching langa skate, hearing the praises from the other skaters of 'S' and their friends, and getting constantly overshadowed by langa was taking a toll on him, that's for sure.

lately, he's been craving nothing more than a few words of praise or reassurance. he's been feeling quite unmotivated lately, and has barely even been touching his skateboard.

he finally came to a halt as he arrived in front of his house. his phone was still as dry as it could be, no replies from you, not even a single call back.

"goddammit." he swore under his breath as he pocketed the phone with a frown. his lips were quivering, and the built-up stress, anger and disappointment was too overwhelming at the moment.

"im home.." he announced to no one in particular. it was late at night after all. his family was already sound asleep, leaving him alone once again.

"this seriously sucks.." he mumbled as he took off his shoes, and headband. he ruffled his hair as he entered the bathroom to wash his face.

"this sucks. this sucks. this sucks." he chanted under his breath.

tears were falling down his cheeks. all the effort he had put into holding them back ended up being futile. not that he was surprised.

"i hate this." reki sniffled as he wiped his cheeks free from the salty tears. he pulled out his phone with his shaky hands, tapping on your contact in hopes of hearing your lovely voice even for just a second. it had always succeeded in cheering him up.

"no answer.." he muttered dejectedly. he let out a pained laugh as he hung his head low.

"even y/n's tired of me huh.."

reki stared at himself in the mirror, the statement was left lingering in the air as he blinked upon painful realization.

"they're.. they're tired of me?" he muttered to himself, his eyes widening in fear. "no, no.. that can't be. right?"

he let out a nervous chuckle as he pulled his phone out once again, tapping on your contact in hopes of getting a response.

"y/n, please answer.. please answer.." reki whimpered as he bit his nails out of nervousness. it had always been a bad habit of his.

"shit!" he exclaimed as tears started brimming his eyes once again.

he ran to the front door, fully ready to run to your house just to receive some much needed reassurance. though the sight of your shoes neatly placed by the side made him freeze.

"they're here..?" he blinked in surprise. instantly he sprinted to his room, not even caring that he was being too loud and that he might wake his family with the thumping of his feet.

"y/n! i-" he abruptly stopped as his eyes landed on your figure, sleeping peacefully on his bed.

he quietly closed his bedroom door and stealthily tiptoed towards you. he kneeled by the side of his bed, resting his chin on the mattress as his eyes raked over your features.

he carefully brought his hand up to cup your cheeks, his thumb gently carressing your soft cheeks as a faint smile etched itself on his lips

"hmm, reki?" you mumbled. "did i wake you? im sorry.." reki whispered back

" 's fine." you replied. you sat up on his bed and rubbed your eyes tiredly "you're home a lot earlier than usual" you pointed out

reki nodded with a sigh "yeah.. i didnt feel like staying there any longer" he said. "why? did something happen?" you asked with a look of concern

reki didn't answer just yet, he simply studied your look of genuine concern and forced out his usual grin

"nah! i was just tired, you know?" he said with a chuckle as he sat beside you on the bed "i've been practicing some tricks so i wanted to rest a bit"

you simply nodded and sent him a closed eyed smile "oh, im glad. i thought something bad had happened to you" you said

"but if you're tired, you should go to sleep and rest" you said

reki's smile dropped as he nervously reached out to tangle his fingers with yours. "hey y/n, y-you're not gonna leave me, are you?" he asked with a whimper

your expression morphed into one of disbelief as you stared at your boyfriend with wide eyes. "what? reki, i would never do that! why would you even think about that?" you exclaimed with a frown

"it's just.. you're not gonna leave me for langa or anyone right?" he asked yet again

with furrowed brows, you cupped his cheeks in your hands and forced him to look you in the eye. "im not gonna leave you for langa or anyone else, reki. you're my boyfriend and i love you and only you." you said

"i don't know why you would assume things like these but please stop. you're only gonna hurt yourself if you don't"

reki sniffled and weakly nodded, his tears was flowing down once again, staining his cheeks and your palms with wetness.

"y-yeah.. sorry." he muttered

you frowned and pulled him into your chest, your arms were gently wrapped around him as you rub circles on his back with your hand, and use the other to gently comb through his hair.

"do you wanna talk about it?" you asked in a hushed tone. "no..not really.." reki replied as he wrapped his arms around your waist, trying to close the already nonexistent gap between the two of you.

you leaned against the bed frame, and helped him adjust in a more comfortable position, seeing as he refused to detach himself from you for even a second.

"hmm, i don't know what happened but.. i got some things that i hope could cheer you up." you said with a smile

reki looked up at you, his eyes glinting with curiosity as he reluctantly sat up and untangled his limbs from yours. "what is it?" he asked

you smiled excitedly and reached for your bag, pulling out a separate plastic bag, and presenting it to him. he looked at it in confusion and waited patiently for you to explain.

"i got you some wheels for your boards!" you exclaimed "there's a lot of them in here, so you could use them when you build your skateboards"

reki's eyes widen in surprise as you start rambling about the wheels. "there's lots of different designs and stuff to choose from. plus i even got you stickers for decoration and if you wanna customize your board!"

"i know you like building your own so i didnt buy you a deck." you said "i was hoping i could help you build your next one since i know it must take a lot of effort to make them.."

"i also cleared my schedule for this week so i can accompany you when you practice. its not much but— eh, reki?" you blink in surprise as you watch your boyfriend suddenly breakdown.

"reki, what's wrong? a-are you alright? did i say something wrong??" you asked in a frantic tone

reki shook his head as he let out a strained laugh. he wiped his tears and tackled you on the bed, encaging you in his arms as he smothers your face in kisses

"eh?? reki??" you called out in utter confusion "are you sure you're okay??"

"well, i am now!" reki exclaimed with his usual grin. a light pink blush covered his cheeks as he looked at you with lovestruck eyes.

"honestly.." you let out a sigh of relief as you playfully rolled your eyes at him. "you're so weird, reki" you said as he lightly punched him in the shoulder

"hehe, im just happy you're here." reki admitted with a chuckle "you really brought my spirits up, you know?"

"really? i just got you wheels and stickers though?" you blink cluelessly. reki smiled and placed a quick but loving kiss on your lips. "y/n you might not know it but.."

".. you're seriously all i need."

"you're so cheesy." you rolled your eyes, though a bright red hue had covered your cheeks out of flusteredness.

"onii-chan! y/n-san! keep it down, im sleeping right next to your room!" reki's sister whined out

"oops, sorry!"

[littlemisslipbalm]

“sorry to bother you”

Summary: Y/N meets Harry in a little shop in France. It was a lovely meeting between the fan and the rockstar, but when Y/N realizes she’s lost her phone, will she see Harry sooner than she had ever thought possible?

AKA Harry meets a fan and accidentally steals her phone

vibes bc they snack and she walks up to him while he’s looking at the sky lol ^

Ok so I just wanted to preface this: this was initially just going to be a short blurb about a respectful meeting between Harry and a fan because of the terrible stories I’ve been hearing lately about rude people being inconsiderate of Harry and his privacy and I wanted to showcase that you can treat Harry as a human being rather than an object when you see him irl. But then my writer brain wanted more and so it turned into more. All I have to say is if you ever meet Harry in real life, please be respectful and kind. Also there is a 0.00001 chance that this would ever actually happen as most fiction goes so please don’t expect more than a short convo and maybe a photo from him. For him to even speak with you is more than enough, he really isn’t a disneyland attraction. 

Also not proofread bc apparently its long lol, I’m not super in love with this but I think it’s good-ish the end is meh - pls lemme know what yall think :)

Word Count: 10.2k (wait im actually so confused how this got so long omfg) | Warnings: swearing, angst, fluff, idrk its long but it’s sweet?

-

She saw him long before she approached him. She was truly unsure of herself, not wanting to bother him or upset him. She had been a fan for so long and couldn’t pass up the opportunity to meet someone who meant so much to her.

In the small Bayeux shop, she hesitates as she risks another glance at the tall man. She whispered to her mom minutes ago about how Harry Styles was in the same shop as them. Her mom was texting her non stop telling her to go up to him or she would do it herself. Y/N shook her head, distrusting her mom and feeling self conscious. No one else was in the store and her interaction with him wouldn’t disrupt the rest of the store, but for some reason she felt a tinge of discomfort about going up to him.

Harry leafs over a tablecloth, not paying attention to the other patrons in the store or anything else for that matter. He was staying on the coast of France for the week and he hadn’t run into many fans, so he was feeling at ease. Mitch was somewhere else in the store, but Harry felt comfortable on his own. He feels a soft, small tap on his broad shoulder. He turns expecting the quiet Mitch, but is presented with a short, sweet looking woman.

“Excuse me. Um, hi...Sorry to bother you,” she starts, eyes wide as she works to maintain eye contact with Harry as she looks up at him.

His green eyes are widened, realizing this isn’t someone he knows.

“Hello,” he says simply.

“I-” she pauses, her hands fiddling, “I’m sorry to bother you, honestly. But, your music means so much to me and I’d kick myself for the rest of my life if I didn’t say something before you left.”

He smiles, his expression softening at how genuine she sounds. “It’s quite alright.”

“It’s not though. I’m sure you’d appreciate not being bothered for once.”

“No,” he cuts her off, “I love talking with fans.”

“Yeah, but I’m sure there’s days where you wish you could just go to a random store on the coast of France - so out of the way - and not be walked up to by a random person.”

“I mean, I guess, but you seem rather nice.”

“Thanks...I’ve been a fan long enough to know that there’s people who don’t always treat you with that kind of respect. I really wouldn’t have bothered you if it wouldn’t have changed my life.”

“Don’t feel like you’re a bother, please,” he pleads lightly as he grasps her hand out of instinct, dropping it immediately when he realizes what he’s done. “It’s the people who don’t actually come up to me and treat me like an animal that are upsetting. Or the people who are only after a photo and aren’t very nice to me. You… you’re treating me like a human being. Being overly courteous -- if I’m being honest.” He chuckles lightly at the end.

She blushes at his words and smiles up at him, mirroring the soft smile on his lips. “I’m only treating you how I would want to be treated if I were in your shoes.” She glances down at his feet and notices the Gucci boots and smiles to herself, laughing lightly.

“What?”

“We’ve got the same shoes on actually.”

“No way!” His voice is playful at first as he glances down at well and realizes she’s right. He laughs at the weird little coincidence.

“I’ve had these for years, my favorite shoes…” She mumbles, seeing the ways his eyes shift  with a flash of concern. It’s what she fears he would think of her, why she was so hesitant to approach him in the first place. It’s why she had tried to hide her laugh from him when she noticed the similarity. She just wants to interact with him in a normal way. He again softens at her words, her sincerity, realizing it really just is one of those random things.

“They’re good shoes,” he laughs again, kicking his left heel with his right foot. The way she barely touched him to get his attention and the way she stays a safe distance from him is reassuring. She’s aware of his situation, yet she’s treating him with the utmost care and respect.

“So what brings you to Bayeux?” He asks, deciding he wants to continue the conversation with her. Y/N flits her eyes behind her shoulder and sees her mother watching their interaction out of the corner of her eye. She sighs and runs a hand through her hair, leaning against the counter her and Harry are at.

“Vacation, I guess. My family and I love to travel and ever since the pandemic settled down - finally, we’ve been jetting everywhere we’ve ever been or wanted to go. Seize the day vibes.” Her voice is serious, but she falters and laughs at the end. Her words are honest and she’s happy to actually get to talk to Harry more than just hello and a picture.

“I get that. You’re from America, yeah? It was really rough there for a long time.” He says solemnly, mirroring her figure, leaning against the counter, getting comfortable with her.  

She laughs again, smiling up at him, eyes sparkling, completely in love with her idol, but desperately trying to play it cool. “The accent gives it away, huh? I’m trying to fix that, get a job out of the states and never go back.”

“Hey!” Harry interjects, throwing his hand out from his stance in her direction, like he might touch her, but this time being careful to not actually. “It’s not that bad. I like your accent...And I love LA.”

She can’t stop laughing with Harry. It feels so simple and common to just be talking with him. He doesn’t seem like he’s in a rush anywhere, but she also fears to take up too much of his time. “I’m originally from up north in California actually. Living in LA right now, though. But I don’t know, I’ve just always felt like I was meant to live somewhere else. Do you know how that is? Just feeling like you’re meant for something different?”

He watches the way she moves her hands and works through her thought process. He feels like in another world they would have been close friends. The way she talks about things is so familiar to him. It’s like she’s read his mind, even though he knows for sure she hasn’t. She’s funny and laid back, yet mature at the same time. He wonders how old she is, out of college it seems if she’s trying to get a job out of the United States. He wonders what she plans to do and who she wants to become. Her aura intrigues him to no end. He thinks he could talk to her for hours.

Realizing he hasn’t made any sort of response to her somewhat philosophical question, he nods quickly, eyes blinking rapidly, his body straightening up back to his full height. “Yeah..I mean that’s how I felt about music. Like, I always felt like I was meant for something more… Turns out I was!”

They smile together again, knowing the conversation is ending. She knows he won’t keep asking questions and she doesn’t want to keep him.

He knows he can’t completely turn himself over to this stranger, she’s obviously younger than him and even though he feels connected to her, she could surprise him still. He knows he can’t talk to her forever, the cashier glancing at the pair of them every so often since they haven’t been looking at any merchandise for a while now. He knows he shouldn’t flirt with her, ask her out for coffee or anything of the sort. He simply knows this must come to an end any moment now.

“You should definitely follow your heart,... I didn’t catch your name?” He realizes when he can’t finish his sentence by calling her name.

“Oh!” She says surprisedly, not realizing she never gave her name, “Y/N. And thank you, means a lot to hear encouragement come from someone who’s been such an inspiration to me. Honestly, thank you.”

He perks at the way she says her name, again feeling like he’s known her for much longer than these five minutes.

“It’s me who should be thanking you, Y/N. Your support is what makes my life the way it is. It means a lot to me - and you truly seem like a lovely person, genuinely.”

She throws her head back in laughter at all of the words he’s saying. The way he’s trying to convey his sincerity is earnest, but his word choice is simply funny to her. Without realizing what she’s doing, she throws out her arm and her hand lands on his bicep to steady herself while laughing - something she would do with anyone normally. He doesn’t shift from her grasp when she opens her eyes and even widens them at the sight in front of her. Her hand on Harry Styles. How is this happening? She thinks as he doesn’t disintegrate underneath her touch. He’s definitely real as she feels the coat fabric and the muscles beneath it. He smiles down at her, so sweetly that his dimples pop out. She’s in awe, but has to contain the slight sense of coolness she’d been maintaining during their conversation.

She removed her hand, gingerly, “I won’t keep you any longer, Harry.” She blushes when she says his name. “If you don’t mind, I’d love to get a picture with you, but I totally understand if you’re not okay with that. I wouldn’t post it anywhere, it’s more just for me to remember this.” She rushes the last bit, feeling nervous and shy yet again. He was so big physically, but his presence was also so strong that she felt even smaller around him.

His smile calms her immediately and this time it's his hand to touch her, his hand landing over hers that’s been resting on the counter during their conversation.

“Of course,” His lips are soft and plush as they maintain his sweet smile. “Hey Mitch!” He looks over his shoulder as he calls to Mitch who has returned from the upstairs part of the shop.

Mitch blinks at the sight of Harry with a stranger before coming over, “Yeah?”

“Do you mind taking a picture of Y/N and me?”

Y/N is still in disbelief of what is going on, completely awestruck that Harry just said her name again to Mitch Rowland. And that Mitch Rowland was even in this shop with her as well. She hadn’t realized that at first. But now she was going to be forever grateful to her father for insisting they come back to Bayeux during this trip.

Mitch nods and takes her phone once she slips it out of her pocket, fingers fidgeting to get it open quickly. Mitch smiles at her reassuringly as she lets go and moves to stand beside Harry against the counter. He pulls her into his side gently and her hand goes around his waist, feeling his warmth and substantiality for the first true time. She tries to ground herself in the moment, memorizing every detail of right now. His cologne that emanates from his neck, the way the material of his jacket feels against her bare arm, the way he puffs out a slight laugh as Mitch shifts around to get most of their bodies in the frame. Oh and the way he looks when he tilts his neck to check on her and he even risks a wink of one of his emerald eyes and she promises herself she’ll never give away any of the clothes she’s wearing right now. Her nonchalant response is to wink right back and then they both smile, turning back their attention to the phone in Mitch’s hands.

Her mom had gone up to the cashier, effectively distracting them from the photoshoot that had begun to take place. Y/N never wants Harry to let go of her, but again she knows this can’t last forever. Mitch takes a couple of photos before handing the phone back. Y/N assumes that’s it and is about to thank Harry, but he speaks over her and her words die in her throat.

“How do they look?”

“Oh?” She flips through them and Harry leans over her shoulder, respectfully. “Pretty good,” she sums up, she loves them and she’d love even more, but she’d obviously never ask Harry for that.

“Pretty good?” He echoes, unsure of her response, looking from her to the photos, “Do you want to take more?”

She thinks on his offer, already knowing the right answer, “No, no. It’s all good. Thanks.”

Then turning to face Mitch, who’s been watching the pair of them converse, “Could I actually get a photo with you, Mitch? Sorry if that’s super weird, I just think you’re really cool. I had no idea you were even here until, uh, Harry called you over.” She laughs nervously, blushing yet again.

Harry laughs under his breath at how both her and Mitch blush at her words. She’s more unsure with Mitch, which he finds interesting. She had carried their conversation easily and maintained eye contact casually, but with Mitch, it was like he was her schoolyard crush, nervous hands and fleeting glances. He wondered if she genuinely only liked Harry for his music and didn’t find him physically attractive. This nagging feeling at the back of his mind perplexed him, he twitched trying to shrug it off. Why did he care if this woman found Mitch attractive and not him?  

“Yeah, of course. It’s not weird, have had plenty of people say much weirder things to me than that…” He smiles at Y/N and she mirrors his expression, but then she bites her lip. Her expression falters slightly as she processes his words. “I’m sorry if you’ve had similar experiences as Harry with so-called fans being disrespectful and inconsiderate.”

“No need to apologize, you’ve been nothing but kind and respectful,” Harry interjects

She only fidgets at his words. She’s growing slightly more nervous, being in the presence of both Mitch and Harry was starting to wear on her calm exterior. Still, Mitch trades places with Harry and Harry plucks her phone from her hands. He takes more photos than Mitch, doing close ups and full shots, causing Mitch and Y/N to laugh as they hold onto each other. He gives them little instructions on what to do in the photos and soon Y/N is rolling her eyes at Harry like she’s been best friends with him for ages. She feels like she’s just out with a couple of her friends and they decided to stop and pose for photos randomly, rather than meeting rock legends that she had only dreamt of ever seeing in real life.

When Harry is finally satisfied and comes up to the pair of them, she moves away from Mitch first, his long hair shifting as she pulls away from his side. She turns to face him immediately and starts to gush, “You’re an amazing guitarist, by the way. I forgot to say that. When I heard ‘She’ for the first time...I was blown away. The guitar on it...Feels like you’re in another universe. And it follows up ‘To Be So Lonely’ which your guitar on it is also like crazy epic. ”

Harry and Mitch laugh, but Mitch’s smile is appreciative, like he’s about to speak, but Harry speaks first, “That’s because he was in another universe. You know the story?”

She smiles and nods. Harry nods in approval. Mitch interjects, “Thank you. Also, Y/N,” he stares intently at her face and she meets his gaze this time, “You’re truly one of the kindest people - maybe the kindest - who have come up to us. And I’m not just saying that because you complimented my guitar playing.”

“He’s right,” Harry nods solemnly. Her face beams up at them both, now she really felt like this was too good to be true. Meeting her idols and having them both say very complimentary things about her, she’d cherish it forever.

“You both are amazing people and deserve to be treated as such.” Her tone is the sincerest she’s ever been, meaning every single thing she says. Then she rushes out her next few sentences, “But thank you again, seriously, you both mean a lot to me - I’ll let you get back to it...Have a nice day!”

After they say their farewells swiftly, she turns to leave and bounces over to her mother who is grinning with pride for her daughter. Before she exits completely she risks a glance over her shoulder and throws a peace sign up, Harry returns it. Then she walks out of the shop, her mother finishing up her shopping minutes ago. Mitch and Harry stay back, talking and continuing to look around the store.

Y/N tries to keep her cool until they’re out of sight of the shop. Once they round the corner and are on the next street over, she’s jumping up and down and squealing to her mom. “Can you actually believe it? What the fuck just happened? That was real right? I wasn’t hallucinating?”

Her mom laughs and reassures her it was real, “You did that, I’m so proud of you. You handled yourself very maturely”

“Well I tried! I can’t believe Mitch was there too!” She interjects, cutting off her mom, completely ecstatic from the previous experience.

“So how did the photos come out?” Her mom asks once Y/N had stopped rambling about Harry’s outfit and their matching shoes and their conversation and basically anything that had happened in the last ten minutes. They were blocks from the shop now.

“Photos?”

“Yeah, the photos you took with them. How do they look? I was ready to come over, but then that other man popped out of nowhere.”

“He’s smooth like that,” she says wistfully, her little crush on Mitch being nowhere near her love for Harry, but still present, and pats for her phone. “Oh.” She says, stopping in her tracks.

Her mother stops with her, “What?”

“I...I left my phone in the store, I guess.”

“Y/N…” Her mom drags out her name in exasperation, in awe of her daughter’s ability to be so smooth with her own idol yet how forgetful she could still be.

“Shit!” She confirms that her phone is nowhere to be found.  

“Really?” Her mother sighs, hands sitting on her hips in the center of the French street.  

“Sorry?” She asks sheepishly. In her starstruck stupor she had been too transfixed on Harry and Mitch and must have placed it down on the counter.

“Well, let’s go back,” her mother states, tired but also not completely mad. She lost her phone plenty of times and it was usually because of less acceptable reasons. Meeting your idols warranted a spacey head.

The door chimes as Y/N reenters the store, she walks quickly to wear she had her conversation with Harry almost twenty minutes ago and her mom goes to ask the clerk if they had grabbed it. It’s not on the counter where they had been leaning. She glances around checking to see if it had fallen on the ground or if by some grand luck Harry and Mitch were still there. Due to her luck, neither of these hopes came true. Her mom joins her in the area and shakes her head, the clerk hadn’t gotten any phones turned in since they had left the first time.

“Give me your phone,” Y/N says suddenly. “Find my iphone,” she explains when her mom looks at her questioningly. Checking the phone, she sighs in exasperation, silently cursing herself for not sharing her location with her mom when her phone icon says ‘location unavailable’. She rubs a hand over her face in disappointment.

“Don’t click the sound button!” Her mom says quickly, “If someone stole it, they’ll turn it off when they hear it.”

“But how am I supposed to find it? It could be here and I just can’t see it.” Her finger hovers over the ‘play sound’ button, hesitant, but desperate. She had met and gotten photos with Harry Styles and they were already gone - oh and she’d have to replace her phone, which would be terrible, as well.  

“Maybe Harry Styles has it?”

“Mom, don’t be dumb.”

“Hey! Watch your tone. I’m serious. Did he ever hand it back to you after he took those second round of pictures?”

Y/N scratches her head nervously and hands back her mom’s phone. She places both over her face and presses her fingers harshly over her eyes trying to think. She hadn’t been paying attention to her phone at the time, too busy trying to commit everything about Harry to memory in her mind so that she’d never forget it. She was sure she’d never forget today, now, even if she ever stopped loving Harry, which she was doubtful of. Hey kids, I met a rockstar and I was so starstruck I lost my phone in France! She groaned. “Oh my fucking god!”

After a few deep breaths with her fingers pinching the bridge of her nose, she composed herself, “We need to play the sound. Either it’s here and we’ll find it. Or - worst case scenario - it sounds and Harry Styles realizes he has my phone and we go from there… Well, I guess in the worst case scenario some jerk stole it and they turn it off and sell it for parts, but I just don’t think that’s what happened.” She bites her lip and stares at her mom, who hesitantly raises her finger to press the button that sets off the alarm on the lost phone. She clicks it after an overly dramatic pause. Y/N prays to anyone who’s willing to listen, she says in her mind, please sound the phone in here. Life would be so much simpler if it worked out the way we wanted. But, in place of the annoying echoing ring of the Find My iPhone tone there is only silence. At least there’s silence in the little shop in Bayeux.

-

In a tiny taxi cab that was headed to a small chateau outside of the town of Bayeux, the phone sounds and causes Harry to furrow his brows. He was sure he had his phone on ‘do not disturb’, but he pulls it out anyway to see why it’s making this annoying sound. What he pulls out of his coat pocket is not his phone he realizes immediately.

“Shit,” he says under his breath, still loud enough for Mitch to look over from the opposite passenger seat.

“What?”

“This isn’t my phone.”

“What?”

Harry rolls his eyes at Mitch’s repeated question and opens up his purse digging out his actual phone and holds up his and the one he had apparently stolen.

“Oh, yeah, that’s not your phone. That’s not good.”

Harry huffs as he turns the unknown phone over in his hand, the screen was a scene of a city he didn’t actually recognize - San Francisco maybe - the lavender silicone case is smooth in his hand and he notices a little sticker, it’s of Y/N and two other women. His eyes widen at it and it makes a little more sense to him. He hadn’t really stolen a phone, he just forgot to give it back. It wasn’t much better, but it was how he was going to comfort himself. Dropping his own phone in his lap, he runs his hand through his hair, rings slightly tugging at his mused curls. Then he turns the sticker to show Mitch, “It’s that girl we met, it’s her phone.”

“You stole her phone,” Mitch states. Voice deadpan and eyes boring into Harry’s.

“No!” Harry defends, but quickly slumps, “I mean, technically? Yes...But-” Mitch’s laughter cuts him off. “You’re an idiot, Harry, y’know that?”

-

“I feel like I’m on punk’d right now…” Y/N grumbles as it becomes clear that the phone is not in this shop. “If this is punk’d, at least my phone’s not actually gone,” she says to no one really. Her mom is pacing the store and stops to look at her daughter, “This is most definitely not punk’d for so many reasons, dear. Mainly because the show got canceled but also because we are in Bayeux, France not Malibu.”

“Fuck…”

She walks out of the shop, barely paying a glance to the shop keeper this time, her usual kind demeanor nowhere to be found under the piles of distress and anxiety plaguing her body.

Back out on the street she looks around, again hoping that with any luck Harry is still around and will come running up to her to give her back her phone. Again, no such luck.

“What the fuck am I going to do?” She looks to her mom helplessly, her arms flapping by her sides, defeated.

-

“What the fuck am I going to do?” Harry asks as they get out of the taxi, glancing at the purple phone in his hand.

Mitch shrugs, “Hope she has her location on?”

“Then she’s going to come here...But wouldn’t she have tried to track it first instead of playing the sound?”

“Dude, I don’t know.You can try to unlock it and find her mom’s number, get in contact with them.” Mitch sighs as they walk through the front door. “Or we can go back to town, see if they’re still there? Did you get her last name? You could find her on social media maybe?”  

“I feel terrible...She was so nice.” Harry throws his bags down on the entryway couch and begins to pace, Y/N’s phone never leaving his hand. “Could go back into town tomorrow, maybe we’ll run into each other again.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Mitch sits and runs a hand through his hair, “Just calm down, right now, Harry. There’s not much else you can do.”

He’s right and Harry tries to not fixate on the phone, but he fiddles with it for the rest of the day. He doesn’t let it leave his sight and sets it beside his bed when he gets ready to go to sleep. As he shifts in the bed, unable to fall asleep he takes the phone and begins trying to unlock it, guessing random numbers and failing miserably. Eventually, he decides he should go to bed and drifts off into an uncomfortable sleep.

-

After being unsuccessful in town, Y/N and her mom went back to the little villa they were staying at on the outskirts of Bayeux. It was located next to some vineyards that the villa co-owned with the private chateau that sat on the other side of the vines. It was beautiful and she had been so excited to be staying there. But after the events of today, she was not in the mood to join the rest of her family for dinner among the grapes. She lays on her bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering how she had been so stupid to forget to ask for her phone back.

In the middle of the night, she wakes up in a cold sweat. She’s still in the clothes she had worn out and was laying on top of her covers at the end of her bed. All the windows of the room were closed and her shades weren’t drawn. Groggily, she rose from her uncomfortable position and changed. Moving to the window to let some air in she sees the lights flickering in a room of the private chateau across the way. She wondered why someone would willingly be up at this hour, even though she was unsure exactly what time it was without her phone. Her phone. That’s what had woken her up. She had dreamt that her mom had called her phone and the frog from the Frog and the Toad stories had picked it up. That was ridiculous, of course, but the idea to call her phone instead of just pinging it was solid. If Harry still had it, then he could pick up and they could figure out how to meet up. She decided she’d have to do that at a reasonable hour, however and moved on, opening her windows and closing the sheer shades, before getting under her covers to sleep.

-

Y/N wakes up early the next morning. Her sleep a restless one. Padding down the hall to her parent’s room, she knocks solemnly. She was far from a morning person and it was much to her mother’s surprise to see her standing in the hallway when she opened the door.

“Hey..” her voice catches in her throat, scratchy from lack of use in the night.

“Good morning, sunshine,” her mother laughs slightly, but Y/N only gives her an unamused look and walks into her room immediately searching for her mom’s phone.

“Need to use your phone, gonna call my phone,” she mutters, none of her thoughts being coherent sentences.

“Y/N, it’s 7 am. You’re going to call Harry Styles at 7 am? With your morning voice?”

Her eyes narrow and her lips form a straight line one her face, clearly not amused by her mother’s questions. Even if she knew her mom was right. She clears her throat and rolls her eyes at her mom, who is moving around the room beginning to get ready for the day as her daughter sits on the rumpled bed. Y/N’s father had already gone out to breakfast in the main area of the villa.

“Fine,” she slides off the bed when she realizes her mom isn’t offering her any more words of wisdom. “I’ll get ready for the day and then I will call my phone.”

Pattering back to her room, she slowly begins to dress and liven herself up for the day. Her hands instinctively reach out to her bedside table to pick up her phone to turn some music on, but of course she’s greeted with nothing. She groans loudly, “Of. Fucking. Course.” Shaking her head, she moves to take fresh clothes out of her suitcase.

Exiting her room again, this time far more awake, she walks down the hallway in a babydoll style top that read “Don’t play with my heart” with little girls playing racquetball with a red heart emblazoned over her chest and white jean floods. Her feet were covered in red high top converse today, matching the color of the small heart on her shirt. She liked the contrast of the white pants and the bright red of the shoes and she smiled to herself as she walked confidently into the breakfast area.

Her entire family was sitting around one of the tables, sipping coffee and eating pastries, it was now around 8:45 - a slightly more acceptable part of the day. They were all early risers, especially in comparison to her, and her older sister looks at her curiously. “What are you doing up so early, kid?” Y/N leans down to grab a slice of a peach from her brother’s place, which earns her a slight yelp of protest. She rolls her eyes at her sister and stalks off to the buffet, knowing she’s made her presence known enough.

“Can I borrow your phone now?” Y/N says after finishing a small danish and the lukewarm coffee that was at their table when she arrived. Her mother finally nods and hands it over. As Y/N grabs it, she’s already halfway out the doors that lead into the backyard of the villa. 

She stands on the grass that goes for a few feet before a hedge that separates the villa ground with the vineyard. Flipping through the contacts, she settles on hers and sighs, trying to calm her nerves. Her free hand ghosts over her hair and she uses one foot to step lightly on the heel of the other shoe. Please pick up, she sends out a prayer once again. Her last twenty-four hours seemed to consist of dreams, hopes, and prayers and she was starting to realize that she didn’t particularly like any of them. Biting her lip, she raises her phone up to her ear and gets her automatic voice message. Realizing she has her phone on ‘do not disturb’, she immediately rings herself again, knowing that it will go through this time.

-

Harry strolls out of his bathroom and widens his eyes when he hears a buzzing hear his bed. Seeing it’s Y/N’s phone he grabs it quickly and furrows his brow at the contact. Her mother’s name, but he doesn’t know that. To him it’s just a person’s name, it could be anyone she knew. Still, he thought about the odds of it being just one of her friends or her calling from someone else’s phone and decided to risk it.

“Hello?”

“Thank fucking God!” is all he hears and he’s pretty sure it’s Y/N’s voice.

“Y/N?” He laughs and takes a seat on his bed, staring out his window that opened to the vineyard.

“Yes! Harry? Hi!” She’s ecstatic that anyone picked up at all, bouncing up and down on the other side of the phone. She mutters to herself, once again, “Thank fucking God.”

“Who’s phone are you calling from?”

“Oh, my mom’s,” she says, calming down slightly as she begins to walk around the grass, unable to contain the renewed sense of energy she has.

“You don’t keep her in your contacts as ‘mum’? I almost didn’t pick up.” He tilts his head, trying to think of anyone else he knew who kept their mother’s contact as the actual name rather than ‘mum’ or some other variant of it.

“Well, thanks for picking up,” she laughs at his words, bringing her pacing to a stop to stare at the chateau across the way. “It’s really not that weird,” she insists, her arm going to cradle the elbow of the arm that holds the phone to her ear. “I don’t think any of my siblings have her as ‘mom’ in their contacts.”  

“I think it’s a little weird. I’m going to have to start asking people what they’ve got their mum down as in their phones. You’ve got me intrigued,” he muses, only slightly teasing. A smile curves onto his face as he hears her huff over the phone, obviously not liking his ribbing.

“So...you have my phone,” she changes the subject.

“Yes…” he scratches his head and she swears she could hear him awkwardly rubbing at his hair. “Sorry ‘bout that. Guess I forgot to give it back.”

“Not entirely your fault, I probably should have asked for it back. It was like twenty minutes before I even realized I didn’t have it and that was only really thanks to my mom.” She tries to not make him feel bad, because she honestly felt responsible for the mess up.

“Yeah, but I probably wouldn’t’ve realized till I got back to my place and pulled out one phone from my pocket and another one from my bag if you hadn’t tried the ‘find my iphone’ thing.”

“Oh my god, was it loud!? Did you have a hard time shutting it off?” She rushes as all the possible ways she might have annoyed Harry yesterday run through her mind.

“No, no, it was fine,” he reassures her, laughing lightly, standing up now and beginning to pace in front of his window. “Felt like a proper dick, though. Never in my life have I forgotten to give someone their phone back.” He sighs and stops in front of the window, deciding to open it for some fresh air.

Her gaze flits to a movement on the second floor of the chateau, someone opening up their window apparently. The long paned windows flip open and the little sheer curtains flutter in the slight morning breeze.

“So are you still in Bayeux?” Harry asks, hoping her answer is ‘yes’ as he takes in a deep breath of the air from outside.

“Yeah. Are you still here?” She asks timidly, moving her gaze down to her shoes bright red sticking out of the green grass. “Because that will make getting my phone back much easier,” she adds, clarifying that it’s not supposed to be a personal question, just simply a logistical one. Even if her heart skips a beat at the thought of seeing Harry again.

“Yes, I am. Well...just outside the town actually.”

“You don’t say? I’m staying just outside of town, too. At a little villa located next to a vineyard,” She looks around her surroundings again, walking the length of the garden once more. A movement from the same room that had opened their windows at the chateau catching her eye once again. A man, with his arm placed on the sill, leaning out slightly.

“You’re not wearing red shoes by any chance?” He smiles and she can hear the way it affects his words. Looking out of the window, he eyes the villa and the person who was pacing around its patio, seemingly on the phone.

Her brows raise and she stops in her tracks. “Did you just open your window?”

The only response from Harry that she hears is a soft chuckle. But, more importantly, the man in the chateau is waving to her. She grins and waves her free hand over her head, doing a slight jump to make sure he sees her. His laughter only grows, crackling slightly over the telephone line.

“What are the odds?” She breathes out after a moment. Her waving hand fell to her side and she looked at the figure in the window. It wasn’t exactly clear to her that it was Harry, but the way the man was hunched was enough to convince her. She vaguely sees him shake his head in agreement at the serendipitous nature of their current situation.

“Have you had a chance to dine in the vineyard yet?” Harry bites his lip after he asks the question, feeling a little more confident in his flirtation over the phone.

“I have - only once for dinner. Last night I was so stressed I couldn’t eat.”

“What do you think about lunch in the vineyard?” He’s smiling now, the charm dripping in every word he says. His accent is music to her ears and she thinks how could she ever say no to that offer.  

“I don’t know...lunch with my phone thief?” She imitates an unsure tone. Her tease is lighthearted and Harry huffs, playfully indignant.

“As an apology for keeping your phone by mistake,” he adds, emphasizing the ‘by mistake’ part.

“As long as I can get my phone back, I’m up for anything you want,”  She laughs, but then blushes at the innuendo that could be found in her words. Harry hears it and an amused look spreads across his face, the definition of anything running through his mind as well as his assured belief that Y/N did not mean what she had just implied. “I mean! Not anything, I just...Lunch in the vineyard would be lovely, Harry.” She sighs, a hand trailing down her face at her complete foolishness.

“Great. How does one o’clock sound?” He moves on from her slip, not wanting to embarrass her anymore. Especially when he was the one to cause this entire situation.

“Sounds smashing, Mr. Thief,” She breathes out, but laughs when she hears Harry groan.

“You’re something else, missy.”

“I know.” She rolls her eyes, trying to contain her giggles at their playful back and forth.

“See you at one.” He says finally.

“See you at one.” She echoes, continuing to watch him in the window. Neither of them seem to move to hang up. She’s stood in place and so is he, his head hanging out of the window now, resting himself on his arm. It’s just their breathing exchanging over the line and some gusts of wind crackling the connection every so often.

“Are you going to hang up?” She whispers, after a minute of complete silence, her voice coming out impossibly small.

“Thought you would’ve by now.”

“I don’t know why I can’t.” She admits, but she just feels weird hanging up on him even if they have plans to see each other later.

“Me neither.” His response causes her to tilt her head in confusion. Why would he have trouble hanging up on her?

“Okay.”

Then, it’s quiet again. Both of them shifting their bodies around, yet still managing to stay on the line. Y/N is the one who hangs up the phone after hearing Harry’s breath shake slightly, like he’s steeling himself to actually hang up. She realizes that while she doesn’t want to hang up on him, she’d rather do it than have him hang up on her. If that made any sense. She wasn’t sure, but the way he had invited her to lunch, it just felt like he had shifted their relationship from fan and star to something else. Something she didn’t fully grasp, but whatever it was made her stomach flip.

-

She informed her family that she wouldn’t be going out with them today and that she was getting her phone back, but not that she would be having lunch with Harry. She had no idea what they would think about it, but she didn’t want to give them the chance to inform her.

Walking through the vineyards, she watches the slight dust from the dirt gather on her shoes, the red converse. She had settled on what she had been wearing originally after changing her outfit upwards of twenty times. Best to be casual, she thought, like it was no big deal that she was about to dine with a musician whom she loved.

There was only one table on this side of the vineyard, it was the part owned by the chateau, a couple rows from where the villa had their tables. The simple cream tablecloth laid across the wooden table that had two matching wooden chairs with cream cushions placed around it. On top of the table was a picnic basket and a bottle of red wine, made from the grapes in the vineyard. And in one of the chairs sat Harry. Big square green glasses perched on his nose as he looked up at the sky. Y/N takes in his appearance, his cream shirt with stitched patterns on it, half unbuttoned to grant a full view of his swallows and butterfly as well as baggy light wash ripped jeans and dirty white vans. His shirt almost matches the tablecloth, but she’s not sure if he would take that as a compliment.

He hadn’t noticed her presence and he rubs his lips together, smoothing the lip balm he had applied before settling outside.

“Mr. thief?” She touches lightly on his shoulder, similar to how she had done yesterday. His head shoots up and he readjusts in his chair, to sit up slightly more upright. A smile curves onto his face and he moves his glasses up into his hair, pushing his curls back behind them.

“Y/N,” he drags out her name, toying with the sound of it. His eyes flit over her figure, taking in her outfit but quickly run back to her beautiful face. He motions for her to take a seat and she complies.

“The red shoes,” he smiles, glancing at her shoes. She laughs and does a little click of her heels.

“Can’t believe my phone was less than a mile away from me last night.”

“Oh! Your phone!” Harry’s eyes widened, “I forgot it in my room!”

Y/N laughs, her smile spreading on her face immediately, but her face falls when she sees Harry isn’t laughing. “You can’t be serious.” Harry says nothing, a blush creeping up his neck. “Harry…” she doesn’t know what else to say, scratching at the back of her head. “I guess stars really are just like us, complete space cadets.”

“I’m sorry! I was..distracted.”

She can’t keep herself from laughing and she places her hand over Harry’s on the table, trying to calm him down. “No worries, seriously, I was just teasing you. I’ve gone this long without my phone, an hour or so more won’t kill me.”

He smiles sheepishly, mentally kicking himself for how foolish he had made himself look. “Sorry ‘bout that. Seems like I’m really trying to keep your phone, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of...but I don’t think there’s anything in particular on there that you’d really be interested in having access to.”

He grabs the bottle of wine and takes the temporary cork off, he had previously uncorked it before Y/N had arrived. He pours the wine and then quirks a brow towards her. “I’m sure you’ve got some funny notes on there, you’re hilarious.”

She scoffs as his look is serious. Picking her glass up, she clinks it with Harry’s and takes a sip. She hums at the taste, judging the flavor and deeming it good. He watches her as she makes her silent decision and smirks at the way she smiles to herself. Coming back to the conversation she makes eye contact with Harry as she sets the glass down and leans back in her chair.

“You barely know me.” A coy smile flits across her features now. Harry’s heart skips a beat at her tone. He had been expecting some lighthearted quip, but this held something far more intense. It’s still teasing, but it’s far closer to flirting than friendly joking.

He begins to unpack the basket and place food onto the table, eyes constantly flickering between his task and Y/N. Her eyes are fixated on his hands, the way they flex and move and the way his rinks clink against the containers he’s moving around.

“Then tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything.” He finishes placing the food on the table and removes the basket from the table so there’s nothing obstructing their view of each other.

“Very specific,” she takes a sip of her wine again, refraining from rolling her eyes. It was easy to talk to Harry, like they had been friends forever.

Harry lets out one of his loud single laughs. “See! You’re hilarious.” His compliment makes her finally roll her eyes playfully. Instead of responding, she puts some food onto the plate in front of her and takes a bite of a peach slide she had grabbed.

“You’re a flirt,” she says finally, her smile spreading across her face.

“That’s a fact ‘bout me not you, love.”

She bites her lip. For being extremely forgetful, Harry was also extremely charming. “Well, I’m not a fan of flirts.”

“I thought you said you were a massive fan yesterday?” He tilts his head to the side and looks at her with an inviting look in his eye, obviously trying to goad her.

She let out a gasp at his words and began to blush. His stare felt like a second sun boring straight into her, its heat traveling directly to her core. Trying to maintain her collected appearance that she had played so well yesterday, she takes a breath and another sip of wine. The liquid ran down her throat, soothing her. Shaking her head she says, “You know what I meant.”

Biting a piece of bread, Harry nods and shoots her a wink. Her legs instinctively shift together. Finishing his chewing, he speaks up, “Okay, but seriously, tell me more about yourself.”

They settle in, getting more serious and having an actual conversation rather than flirty comments shot back and forth. By the end of the bottle of wine, Harry and Y/N are cackling about some story she’s told about her first solo trip to Amsterdam and all the trouble she got into being a twenty year old college student with easy legal access to weed.

“I remember the first time I went to Amsterdam with the band,” Harry easily segways into his own story and she perks at the words ‘the band’. After all the fun they had been having talking and getting to know each other, the idea that Harry was a famous musician had left her mind completely. For the last forty-five minutes he had just been a really nice guy who was treating her to lunch.

She looks at him expectantly. “It was crazy cool, I think I was only seventeen then? But everyone else was over 18 so they bought us a bunch of pot and we smoked it and got high off our asses. Can barely remember what we talked about, but we definitely thought it was the smartest shit ever”

“Do you ever miss that?”

He finishes off his last bit of wine, “Being young and dumb?”

“No, the, like, relationship you had with them. I don’t mean to pry, but I feel like with any close relationship, when you stop being together all the time...it’s never the same.”

Harry sighs, thinking over what you had said, now knowing it was rather serious and not just about being young. He runs a hand through his soft curls before starting his response. “Short answer is yes. But, y’know, they were my family for so long and that bond doesn’t go away, even if we go through rough patches. Like that part of my life is such an essential part of who I am, I could never throw it away or discount it. I don’t know if I miss it all of the time though. I really like who I am right now.”

She nods, finishing her wine now too. Her body is fuzzy and warm under the soft light of the afternoon. Sharing a bottle of wine was enough to make her tipsy, but she felt sober enough to carry on their serious conversation. “That’s good. It’s important to like who you are right now. It’s how you know you’re ready to be there for others.” She says thoughtfully and then adds, “I like who I am right now, too.”

Harry smiles at her, a calm expression maintaining on his face, and twists his rings on his fingers. “That’s good,” he echoes. “Do you want to go for a walk?” His voice is soft and of course she’s going to say yes.

Her response is to stand up from the table and begin putting things back into the picnic basket. Harry watches her for a moment, taking in the way she moves with so much elegance even when doing such a mundane task. He is honestly so happy that he had gotten to see her again. She had intrigued him yesterday, but he had just expected her to be one of those fleeting thoughts in his mind. Now he wasn’t so sure. He had a feeling she would live in his memory for far longer. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll come back later and grab it all.”

“You set this all up, the least I can do is clean up a little,” She looks up at him from her crouched position as she packs up the leftover food into the basket still on the ground. Her hair is slightly falling into her face and she reaches to push it behind her ear while they continue to look at one another. Harry takes his lower lip into his mouth as he continues to look at her, trying to convince himself she’s not the most beautiful woman he’s ever met.

As they walk between the grapes, they continue to talk, further investigating Y/N’s job aspirations and what Harry was planning on for his next few weeks of vacation. He leads them down a dirt path after they cross the street, moving away from both the villa and the chateau. The path has tall grass flanking its sides that pushes around in the cool summer breeze. She mentions the beautiful sound of the birds chirping and Harry agrees. They walk until they reach the small lake that’s about a ten minute walk from their respective current residences. It’s not a lake for swimming so there’s no one around, just more tall grass, some small trees, and the animals.

“It’s really so beautiful here.”

“I love it a lot, I’ve been coming down here every evening and just sitting alone for an hour or so,” Harry motions to the little wooden bench located beneath a shady tree. She looks at him questioningly, unsure if he means for them to sit. He takes her hand in response and leads them over to it. It’s right before the edge of the pond and if their legs were just a bit longer they could touch the feet into the water.

“It’s nice,” She says, turning her attention from the scenery to stare at Harry, who she finds is already looking at her. Their eyes meet and she bites her lip. He’s so close to her. Closer than they were in the shop yesterday and now their faces are on the same level. His glasses are still pushed into his curls and she decides to pluck them from his head and place them over her eyes instead. Harry protests, but she says smugly, “I’m putting them to better use than just sitting a top that head of yours. It’s quite bright out.”

Harry leans into her, extending his arm behind her and resting it on the back of the bench. She sighs peacefully, with her gaze now hidden behind the glasses. She returns her gaze out against the water and tries to shift closer to Harry casually. They stay silent, listening to the rest of the world moving around them. Soon she’s resting nestled into his side and his arm has moved from the bench to rest around her shoulders. She exhales in contentment, but neither of them have said anything for a while. They were okay with it, being held was enough. Her right hand goes up and threads with Harry’s that is hanging limply against her.

After a few more minutes of silence, Harry decides he wants to talk. “I like being around you.”

“I like being around you too, Harry. You’re different than I had expected.”

“Really?”

“Yeah..I mean there’s that sinister quote about how you should never meet your heroes. But still, you were even kinder than I expected and even though you stole my phone,” she pauses to laugh,”it kind of turned out to be a blessing in disguise because I got to see you again.”

“Thanks…” Harry sighs and she turns her face to gaze up at him. “Well, yeah, now I’m sorta glad I did take your phone. You’re really wonderful.” She smiles and he smiles just as wide.

But then her smile falters, suddenly remembering everything. It was like a self-fulfilling prophecy, she mentioned that thing about heroes and it all came crashing down around her. Yes, it was amazing to be around Harry and it was great that he had been so down to earth. But what she had just said was true too. He was her hero, he was famous and their lives didn’t connect at all. Just that one fleeting moment in the shop. If she hadn’t known him they would have never interacted. She had even been on her last legs of being in that store, she was just about to ask her mom to leave when Harry had walked through the door.

She sits up and drops her hand from his and he looks at her confused. “Did I say something wrong?” He asks, concerned. She stands up now and walks the short distance to the edge of the water, pushing his glasses on top of her head. He follows quickly, growing anxious as she stays silent. “I just..” she laughs in spite of herself, “I just feel really dumb right now.”

“What? Why?” Harry’s really confused now, she won’t meet his gaze as he faces her trying to figure out what just happened.

“I can’t believe I fooled myself into thinking for even a second this could ever be something more.” She turns to Harry finally, looking him directly in the eye, even though her eyes are prickling with tears. She’s angry with herself, not Harry. “You’re you and I’m just a fan at the end of the day. All of the flirting and touching, it can’t be anything more. At most, I’m a one night stand. And as great as that would be in the moment, I know how I feel about you and I know it would ruin me. I can’t be a fling for you, Harry. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” he grabs her arm, trying to comfort her, she shrugs him off. “You’re more than a fan to me, I thought that was obvious by now. You wouldn’t be some meaningless one night stand. When I say I like being around you, I mean I like you, Y/N.” His voice is strong yet soft. He needs to convince her that she can feel comfortable around him, but he sees the darkness in her eyes, how scared she is of being hurt.

“I don’t fit into your life, Harry.” She shakes her head, moving her hands more as she grows more anxious.

“That’s not true. You told me you want to move to England, we could see each other there and see if this was anything.”

She knows he’s right, that it was possible, but she had worked herself up so much now that she had a hard time believing it. She takes a deep breath, “Just answer me this. Would you have given me a second glance if I hadn’t come up to you in that shop yesterday? Or a second thought if there hadn’t been the phone mishap?”

Harry is taken aback. Her words had nothing to do with what he had just said. He had thought his solution was actually really great, a plan he had been meaning to tell her if the rest of the day had gone accordingly, which it didn’t seem to be doing. He pauses and if Y/N was anymore distraught that would have been her cue to leave. Thankfully, she had grounded herself enough in the situation to not let her hot head get in the way of this conversation.

“That’s a pretty unfair question, Y/N. It’s not like I’m constantly looking for someone to fancy.”

“Just answer the questions.”

“Probably not, about the first one, I hadn’t even noticed anyone in the shop before you came up to me. I was off in my own world.” She nods, taking his words into account. He continues, “But yes, about the second one, I thought about you in the car ride home before your phone even rang. Like I said, I like you.”

“Okay.” She softens.

“That’s it?”

“I mean you’re right. We could see each other in London and see if this is something. I just had to know about the other stuff, it was racing through my mind and I wouldn’t get over it unless you gave me an answer.”

“Oh, so can I kiss you?” His words broke the uncomfortable tension that had surrounded them.

“You still want to?” Her voice is small and unsure. The most nervous she had been around Harry was right now.  

“I want to do so much more than that, darling, you have no idea.” He cups her cheek and wraps an arm around her waist. She giggles in nervous anticipation. Then his lips gently push onto hers and she sighs into the kiss. At the edge of the lake, the pair of them taste each other for the first time. Tongues begin licking into each other’s mouths and the kiss becomes breathless. Her hands are at the base of his neck, tugging him closer to her while he tightens his grasp around her waist. She moans slightly when Harry nips at her lower lip and he smirks, happy with the sound she makes.

“We should probably go get my phone.” Harry whimpers at her words.

“What?” Harry is once again confused by the woman before him, who had now pulled from their kiss.

“My phone is in your room…” She trails off and then eyes widen and he giggles excitedly. Eventually realizing what she’s implying.

“Yes! Yes, we should go do that. Get your phone. In my room. Sounds like a good idea. Mhmm.” He pecks her lips between each sentence.

“You’re so weird,” she laughs and brings down his shades onto her face once again. He pulls her into his side and kisses the top of her head as they begin their walk back to the chateau.

“Do you want your phone or not?”

[miss-steelmind]

HELLO hello You Wanted that analysis? i may be completely random but this is something i myself have noticed and thought about before, so, if you will!!!!

shin’s personality during the death game isn’t that much like midori ater all. there’s a lot of differences and yet i can see why he considers it ‘becoming‘ midori

letsseeeee, the differences

- midori is... midori is just so Social, you know? shin only appears when he thinks he needs to, and otherwise hangs out with the few allyships he‘s made, or does things alone. as made obvious by gin’s little nicknames. midori is Not like that at all

- the way they act when feeling negative emotions. while they both do tend to get lost when in a big panic during the times where they get caught on their mistakes, as well as focusing on one set goal to the point they lose track of other things they couldve done and frget any mistakes, this is not something shin could’ve copied. we barely even see midori in such situations and there is no way for shin (before the death game, the timid friendly teenager, mind you) to know what midori is like when in panic. midori just wouldnt ever show him that. i dont believe it

anyway! onto the other part i wanted to explan in this. their negative feelings. midori is completely insistent on acting happy and joyful during the majority of the chapter. while i understand this may partially be the excitement it gives him, i believe he also hides his negative emotions to many lengths unless he’s caught. his fear of death is what causes him to show those bad feelings because it’s just so.... frightening. to him. i think he has had this fear of death before the chapter, even, because even when midori jokes about his own death he has also been shown to struggle with imagining himself in situations he isnt in at that moment. this may be related to his empathy - he cant put himself in others shoes so neither can he in other situations than the ones he goes through atm (not to say low empathy is bad, but midori has it and it explains his behavior). its why he goes all ‘hahaha im dead!!!!!’ when speaking to the cast about it but breaks into a panic when he’s actually about to die. sorry for the midori analysis here haha, but anyway point being here midori hides his negative feelings so much while shin puts in less effort for such

- that reminds me! the next point! the way they care about others (if they even do). midori does NOT understand caring, obviously, and deals with it unhealthily. shin cares SO MUCH sometimes, to the point he lets lose of all else to save the one he cares about so much, kanna. he also shows little aspects that shows he wants kanna to be alright (and this part is about compassion, not empathy, because midori does not want the others to be okay. shin does. shin feels compassion, midori does not).

- the way they stand in situations! by this i mean, midori‘s possessiveness. midori Really wants to control the situations he is in and will do anything to have control of the others. it’s also a part of the reason he broke into a panic. he not only had to face death, he also lost control of what was going on and couldnt do Anything about that. when he begged for sara to let him live at the end of 3b, it shows that his fear of death is greater than anything else, because he even lost his controlling little shenanigans in order to find a way to survive. shin drops all else when the ones he cares about get in danger, midori loses it when he fears this fear.

- not a very important, yet very obvious point however: midori comes off as energetic, and shin is moreso ‘calm’

this leads me to a certain conclusion! shin did Not want to copy midori’s personality. he wanted to copy his idea of him. shin knows midori is strong however a bad person, and reminds himself if he becomes the biggest asshole there can be, he can be strong, like midori. thats just the way shin thinks. he believes the strong aren’t kind, so in that he copied the fact that midori is bad, not midori as a person.

wowowaha this got long hahaahahhxz, thank you for reading <3

IM SORRY THIS IS OLD i wanted to wait until i can collect my thoughts but you worded is so perfectly i don't think i can add much more at this point :0 ty so much for this russell, it was really cool to read!!

i will just say i completely agree, especially with the last part. shin's idea of a "strong person" is faulted from the very beginning and he has a hard time understanding that you don't need to be evil to be strong because that's what he saw, what he learnt from midori. (this also explains a lot about his relationship with sara – he's convinced that only a cruel person would be able to win, therefore sara must be a bad person. i guess that's quite obvious but felt like mentioning it anyway hdkdjd)

i've always found it a bit weird how sara and some other characters say that midori is so much like shin, because honestly, i think shin did a terrible job copying him (which is, you know, understandable). i guess it makes sense, unlike the player they only saw his worst moments, still, like you've already explained in great detail there are some MAJOR differences between the two

you know, their relationship kind of reminds me of when someone tries to copy a famous person who seemingly has it all together and attempt to become that idealized version of them they created in their head. does that make sense?

anyways,, again, thank you for taking the time to write this, it was super interesting!!<3

[carla5172007]

The Kambal Oneshot

Chubby reader. Part 1

Crispin:

Y/n walking in the street in the day light . It was hot event to early in the morning. You wear a light blue shirt with a cute kitty design, light pink skirt and white rubber shoes. Your skirt were higher than one inch. You were going to buy new clothes to fit your asthetic look.

Well you are douth about clothing choices because your body. The huge hips, chubby arms the face and most importantly your belly. The belly is the body part you hate the most. Since your intire life been treadted ugly and always scolded for being fat. Even your own mother keep telling you that. You keep trying best to not bother. Today hou have a confidence to wear the cloths you like.

You weren't expecting the heat to today.

" Thank goodness i brought my umbrella" walk to the crowd and wait to street light to go. Then you heard Two men in suit and a woman who were short. The guy one is long hair and the other were short hair. They had decame face so they must been twins.

Soon more people keep coming, Suddenly some push " Hoy! tabathoy Tumabi ka nga! " ou push from behind and drop your umbrella. Then you accidentally hit some back with your head. "Ouch !" "Hello, ayos kalang ba" you look up saw a tall man, with black coath and vest. He has short hair has, handsome face but no eye???. looking you with concerned."Miss are you ok?" You sanp to reality. "Umm yes im al right." The other twim picks up the umbrella and give it t you.

"Hey miss what's your na-" The the light turn green you walk imminently. Beacause othe loud croud you didn't hear him.

Crispin pov:

"Wow pre iniwan ka sa ere." I look a Basilio irritated look while he laughs. I nudge him quite hard so wine about the pain. " Come on kuya we should be at home. You know hank is more annoying." I look at the direction she went, i wonder where she goes.

" Kuya na kikinig ka ba saakin?!" Basilio bring me back reality.

" Ano? Ahh! Oo "

".........."

".........."

" Gusto mon puntaha young babae? No? Basilio ask waith a smirk

" Uhhhhj...

" Don't Brother ill cover up for you! Basta bumili ka ng beauty products at marenda. Kailangan mo yan pag balik." Basilio gave Crispin extra money.

Your Pov:

I found my favorite store in the SM mall. I found cute design. Thres cute sweater, High jeans, cute skirts and also some cute stuff animals. Im so excited to many to choose from.

_______________Time skip_________________

I have four bags of clothes. I should really it 4:00pm huh its been two hours. Well i should buy myself some snacks. ' what should i get shawarma or sandwich' Then you accidentally bump to Someone. "Sorry mam," Wait that voice. "I-Ikaw.." Its the same guy while you bump with. " My name is Crispin. What your name? I ask you a while ago but you didn't hear me." I was embarrassed. "(Y/n), sorry i i was bit hurry."

"Do you want me to carry that for you?" He genially

"Oh nonono! Its fine!"

Are you sure it seems alot to you. I insist to carry."

"Ahh ok."

Third Pov:

He insisted carrying your shopping bags. But why though he to help me we just bump each early. You two walk out to super mall, It was very awkward silence, but then he broke the silence.

'I like your outfit it cute on you" he compliment you with a smile.

"Wha!!"

You blush those is he really playing with you

"You couldn't take compliment? Or I m just the first?" You nodd. He replied.

"Im telling the truth thought. I can see a beauty when i see one."

"Umm your not bad for yourself" You tried to flirt but it failed you.

"Hehehe"

"What did your job?" He ask you.

"Well its not really interesting but may job is ( your job name). "

"Mine like solving crime stuff like that. it Kinda stressful, sometimes i i haven't sleep for 3 day!" You felt bad for him.

"That's really awful! Is it unhealthy for you?"

"Yeah but when i have sleep its only 4 hour. But sometimes we do have day off. I manage ."

"Hey wear almost to my apartment ment just 2 more miles. We could stop by to buy ice cream if want" you ask him since your starting to crave dessert.

"No all pay for it."

"Its fine you help carrying my shopping at least repay you."

"Ok" he smiled

You two buy ice cream your is ( favorite flavor) and he but chocolate and vanilla ice cream. You two walk and continue your conversation. It was quite enjoyable and interesting and you had fun have company .Once your inside of the building in outside your apartment door. Its time to partways.

Thank you very much. "

"Your welcome. It might be weird and to fast because you just met me but is it alright to ask.... Can i have you phone number? So you can talk each other cause... I enjoy your company we can be friends. BUTIFYOU DON'T WANTTOTHATS FINE!ITSOTIBEINGACREEPIMITALKINGTOMUCH!I'LLSTOP!"

You we speechless. Someone asking phone number to talk to you. Well this is first since childhood non of tour old friend ask your number to stay contact. And you seen him as creep. He nice and gentle men. It wouldn't hurt try to make new friends. You chuckle and smiled and said.

"Sure!"

"Really?"

"Wait ill give you my phone number, ill need my pen and paper and here another paper to write your number ... "

After you write it, you gave it Crispin. Crispin wrote his number in the other paper that you gave him.

"Thank you"

"Bye Cutie see you soon."

You have a pink blush in your cheek. What a nice guy you thought to yourself. Once you open your door and brining your clothes inside. You take a shower and change to your panjamas.

-----------------Meanwhile---------------------

Crispin Pov:

ARE INSAVE YOU GAVE SOME STRANGER THE OUR HOUSE PHONE!! AND LET ME REMIND YOU DON'T HAVE PHONE CRISPIN!! Hank angry scream

I KNOW HANK I M SORRY OKAY!!

While the two arguing! Basilio eating chips ( Nova) while watching Crispin and Hank argue and Alexandra disappointed face while wearing a face mask that Crispin baught before he went home.

Basilio

You were walking home after after you visit your grandma. It was dark in the night you wear wear a light blue belt top and jeans. You had a pocket knife for self defense but you still worried. But the you hear a loud crash when you look up a hold abandon building starting to fall on you. He quickly rush to push he you away before it hit both of you. Both of you fell on the ground he land on his face to your belly.

" Oww my- he- hey are you ok ?!" You tried to wake him his ok. Then he started to move, he the look at you observing you. He wears a mask. "Pwede ko ba malaman ang pangalan mo? ". A silence both of before he respond. "Wow your cute" WHHATT!! C- Cute???? You blush your embarrassed.

They you both heard a call. "BASILIO!" A man with a sad face mask fly infront of you. "Boss wants us to go ( street name) it more important than you flirting around." You blush more. The smile mask man slowly stood up and nod his head he ald your hand. And pull up to your feet. " Hey cutie , whats your name ? ". " Umm.. (Y/n) " " heres my phone number so we can get know each other" He hands you a card with phone number in it with name Basilio. "Thank you for saving me!." the other mask man sad " BASILIO!! There people dyeing any minute!!" "IM COMING!!" They both flying away and leaving you. " Stay safe beautiful! ❤️" the look back give you a flying kiss while his mask on. The next thing gone they were gone.

"Wow what a night .. " You look back at the phone number. Who was Basilio? What doe s look like? Those he really mean those word?... Cute? Beautiful? Hehe no way. That Basilio guy is messing with her. Right? " Hmmm maybe later when i get home "

Basilio POV:

"Well done boys if you need me ill up stairs changing ok." Yes bossing

" Ugh.. im so tired !!" I wine. "Well we should be finish early of you wodn't get distracted!!" "Hey hey calm down you two" Hank hold his hand together and look me in straight in the eyes." What did you do??

" What did you mean?! I DID NO SUCH THING!"

"He gave a random girl our house phone number."

"IDIOT! WHAT DID ALEXANDERA TELL NO TO DO!!" Hank panic

"Giving our house phone number..?"

"Giving our number!! You to don't have phone Basilio!!"Hank replied.

"Maybe that person leaks our secrets!"Crispin replied

"Wow you two are Paranoid. But she's looks cute and nice. And i always want to make new friends"

"Calling a them a Cutie pie is a way to making friends?"

" LOOK ITS JUST MY EGO TAKEN OVER! Please don't tell alexandra-"

"What are you hiding from me"She came from the behind. The kambal scream ot top of there lungs

Few minutes later

I smile and think about what happened. When i landed on top her it so soltf like a pilliow that i wanted sleep and cuddle. Its the middle of the night. I still a wake couldn't sleep. I still wait to called me.

Ring ring

"Hello im (y/n ) im so sorry i called you late"

"No no its fine"

"Your name is Basilio right ? I don't want to be rude but can i see the person who save me."

"Ummm to tell you the truth this a telephone. I don't really have my own cellphone. But we could meet if you want tomorrow."

"Really! What time because my job starts at 9:00am and it will end 4:30 pm. "

"If you had time im always free" with a confidence in his tone.

"You save me from a falling building. I think your busy saveing people"

"True but if my shift ended early tomorrow or if i don't work tomorrow we could meet. Deal?"

"Deal! "

"Great! Also can i have your phone number so i can call you back? Since i forgot i didn't have my own phone."

"Sure it's"

"Wait i need to write it! Hold on"

"Hehe its 09*** **** **** "

"Thanks i call you back"

"Its a date good night."

[angelicmichael]

living after midnight

Brooke Thompson x Montana Duke

Summary: Brooke and Montana get a bit intoxicated and get a bit carried away while going night swimming. Based off this post I made a week ago hehe

Words: 3.1k+

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and also vague mentions of weed, stripping (no nudity tho LOL), lotssss of sexual tension, lots of fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, weird yearning angst for like .02 seconds lmao

A/N: Hey guys, sorry if this is random but I got random inspo for brotana so.. here this is lmao. Believe it or not I did try to make this under 1k words but.. I got carried away so I’m sorry that’s it’s long 😭. But the fic happens sometime after Brooke and Montana meet but before any camp redwood fuckery happens lmao. Anyway I hope y’all like this!! This is also probably the fastest I’ve ever written a fic so I hope it’s atleast decent haha. Anyway enjoy <3

A gentle breeze danced against Brookes exposed skin. The midnight air cold on its own regard but it seemed to blend perfectly with the extensive heat that radiated from the bonfire she sat in front of.

The night was entirely pitch black. The moon was vacant from the sky, leaving the only source of light to come from the giant fire that sat at Brookes shoes.

It was admittedly a bit unsettling being in almost the total darkness, especially with how many girls had recently gone missing in L.A as of late but the beer in her system had mostly put those thoughts to rest. Plus, being with three men and Montana was also reassuring. Even if she didn’t exactly know Xavier, Chet or Ray that well but.. she knew Montana.

It was nearly impossible to forget about how they met.. in the girls locker room in the showers and well; it’s not as if things were any less weird now. Showers or not.

It’s not as if Brooke and Montana were best friends or super close, because that definitely wasnt the case; but they weren’t acquaintances either by any means. The weird tension and ‘playfulness’ that lied between them ruled out being friends.. or that’s Brooke liked to think anyway when she had one too many things to drink. Like now.

Her legs twitched a bit restlessly; content at the ambience that surrounded her but not content with her current state of being. Like how she knew she should be enjoying herself, drunk, not caring about particularly anything at all but instead all she could do was fucking care. Her thoughts were purely infiltrated with Montana and it was embarrassing, to say the least but now that she was intoxicated there was really no harm in fighting it. No matter how annoying and taunting those thoughts truly were.

After all, Why should she not think about how nice it would be to feel Montana’s hands (which she knew had to be soft and delicate) on her waist and down her back? Why should she not think about Montana’s soft lips moving against her own, a few strands of her bleached hair (which definitely had lost it softness due to excessive over bleaching) brushing up against her face accidentally?

That was a rhetorical question; because she knew exactly why she avoided those type of thoughts on a normal day to day basis. Not because it would make things awkward between them but because it was beyond fucking painful to imagine scenarios that would never happen.. Never.

The smell of the fire and the sounds of the wood crackling, which was far too dry and poorly stacked (neither Xavier, Chet or Ray could build a proper fire to save their life), helped bring Brooke out of her thoughts and bit more into reality. So did the gentle sway of the tree branches which she could see in her peripheral vision, since they were right on the cusp of a forest that cut off to a beach. Ocean waves which slowly dragged across the sand were also soothing to listen too, albeit distant over the sound of Brookes friends screaming and laughing and being heavily intoxicated over what was more than just alcohol and weed.

Brooke reached down and swiftly grabbed the beer can which was previously lodged upright in the sand. Lifting the can up to her lips and cringing and unconsciously tensing up as she swallowed until the can was nearly weightless - wiping her mouth with the back of her hand just to see-

“Montana?!” Brooke nearly yelled. Both alcohol and temporary shock making her speak way louder than what was realistically needed.

Montana, who was previously standing several feet away with the boys was suddenly seated right next to Brooke on the log with no warning. Probably having moved over while Brooke was poorly chugging the alcohol she hated.. but she couldn’t help but to notice that their thighs (as well as basically their entire sides) were touching as she tried to wipe the alcohol that had embarrassingly dripped down her front in a frenzy.

Chet and Xavier looked back at them from a few feet away as they smoked what Brooke knew had to be a joint. Briefly laughing and giving the pair of women an amused glance before turning around and immersing themselves in whatever conversation they were previously having.

Brooke sheepishly met Montana’s gaze, feeling her cheeks grow nearly unbearably hot at the awareness that she was now being watched.. studied almost.

“Sorry,” Brooke added with a giggle.

Montana responded with a slight upturn of her lips; amused with Brookes actions not because she found it necessarily funny or pitiful, but for the sole reason that.. it was cute and endearing that Brooke couldn’t really hold her alcohol for shit.

It made her unique and different from everyone else Montana acquainted herself with. People that Montana had to basically learn to keep up with.. but Brooke on the other hand was different.. She was a breath of fresh air, and that’s why Montana assumed she was so attracted to her (besides her looks, of course).

Montana tried her best to ignore and not be bothered by the fact that Brooke was wasting perfectly good alcohol by wiping it off herself (alcohol that Montana wouldn’t necessarily mind licking off Brookes lips.. or her neck, or really anywhere else off of her). Instead focusing on how suffocated she felt here.

It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault. After all; she loved Chet, Xavier and Ray dearly but.. they were also undoubtedly preventing anything from happening between her and Brooke.. and that needed to change.

Montana huffed. Her deep brown eyes quickly flickering at the flame and then Brooke before speaking.

“Im bored,” she announced. Suddenly standing up and not letting her eyes break the gaze she suddenly held with Brooke.

Brooke responded with a simple hum. Her jaw quickly dropping once she noticed that Montana’s bright red nails quickly darted down under her own shirt. Hooking the material under her fingertips before quickly raising the shirt up and over her head. Throwing it back somewhere behind the log Brooke still sat on.. somewhere where Brooke was almost certain Montana wouldn’t be able to locate later.. which was probably done on purpose.

Brookes jaw still stayed ajar when she saw Montana’s hands automatically fly down to the small jean shorts she was wearing. She could do nothing but watch as she saw the button unhook- wait.. what exactly was happening?

“Montana, what are you doing?” Brooke asked with a laugh.

Brooke tried her best to fight the urge to look at her friend who was now well.. in her bra and underwear, out of what she was trying to convince herself was respect, but it wasn’t working. She knew for a fact her cheeks had to burnt bright fucking red; she tried to laugh off the feeling but Montana still stared.. her smile slowly growing wider until sudden laughter momentarily broke the tension again.

Brooke and Montana both looked behind them just to find the boys laughing and whooping as well at Montana’s sudden lack of clothes.

Brooke smiled back at them but it only lasted a second before she found herself overtaken with a emotion she never really felt around Montana before.. was it jealousy?

Just the sight of them staring at Montana (who obviously didn’t give a fuck, or was thriving off the attention more than anything) was enough to make Brooke stand up.

“Go swimming with me?” Brooke suddenly proposed. More than certain that her sudden impulsivity was coming from the alcohol more than anything.. it had to be, right?

Brooke looked Montana in the eyes again as she watched the other woman’s expression suddenly change at her words; looking utterly shocked and.. maybe a bit thrilled.

“You want to go swimming?” Montana nearly sneered, her tone reeked off utter disbelief, “and what are you gonna wear?”

Brooke laughed at what the other woman was implying. Her dark brown eyes slipped down to admire the rest of Montana’s body that she dared not to look at previously. Only looking for a second at the matching cherry red set that Montana wore. A bra which was most definitely too tight and cut a bit small, along with a thong with sat a bit high on her hips which only accentuated her figure even further.

She didn’t have time to think; her eyes darting back up to meet Montana’s which she knew were watching her.

“I’m not going naked-“

“You don’t have too. It’s not like their gonna see us anyway once we get away from the fire. Here.”

They both spoke in hushed whispers. Weirdly paranoid that maybe the boys would overhear and wanna join which- was something they both clearly didn’t want, although unspoken.

The distance between them was minimal enough due to alcohol (and other substances in Montana’s case) running high in their systems. Making personal space something that was now nonexistent.

Montana extended her hand out to Brooke to take. She quickly grabbed her hand, hoping desperately it wasn’t sweaty from how close they were to the fire and also.. just from the situation she was bound to find herself in. But due to Montana’s reaction (or lack thereof) she knew she had nothing to worry about.. sweaty palms or not, she knew Montana wouldn’t judge her. No matter how insane the circumstance; Brooke always felt safe around Montana. That’s why she supposed she was currently following her into the pitch black - her vision getting more and more sparse as they walked away from the fire and into some nearby trees that framed the beach..

“Are you sure they can’t see me?” Brooke asked, trying her best to look through the trees and see if any of her friends happened to be looking but - she couldn’t really make out anything besides the subtle outline of her surroundings which included Montana.

“They can’t see you. Relax,” Montana said with a giggle. “Now do I need to help you undress? Your taking forever and I’m hot- and it’s not like I haven’t seen you wearing less-“

Brooke tried her best to look offended and shocked by her reference to how they met. She knew that normally with nothing in her system she would’ve easily sidestepped Montana’s ruthless flirting but.. something felt different about tonight. After all; why should she keep trying so hard to resist something they both felt? And it wasn’t like anyone could see them anyway..

Brooke quickly turned her head to where she knew Montana was and stepped closer until they were barely a foot apart. Her feet nearly stumbled on Montana’s from the proximity; biting her lip to prevent herself from stupidly giggling once she felt hot breath on her cheek.

She grabbed Montana’s hands which first held hers back limply but briefly held hers tighter before Brooke directed her hands on her shirt.

“Take it off,” Brooke uttered. Her voice barely audible but not quite loud enough to be discerned as a whisper.

Montana didn’t hesitate as she quickly took Brookes shirt off, barely feeling the soft fabric against her fingertips before she quickly threw it behind them into the forest. Montana didn’t wait for Brooke to say anything before her fingers were quickly undoing the button and the zipper of her jean shorts which were only thrown somewhere in the forest as well (hopefully near her shirt.. Brooke could only hope).

Brooke tried her best to not look bothered by her sudden lack of clothes but she also knew that was purely idiotic since they were in the pitch black.

Nevertheless she looked down at herself, trying to discern whether her figure was actually visible or not but Montana grabbed her hand again. Making her gaze snap upward as she led her out. She knew they were going out to the water now; the sand under her feet and the fire now visible from a distance as they continued to go out. The sand becoming more grainy and nearly painful to step on as they got closer to the water.

Brooke quickly looked over her shoulder before she took the first step in - still holding onto Montana’s hand. She quickly glanced to see if any of the men they had came with were watching but surely enough they were still talking and laughing as if they didn’t even notice they had gone missing.. and they probably hadn’t given how fucked up they were.

Perfect.

She continued to hold onto Montana’s hand as she went further and further into the water; not phased by the sudden coolness she felt as the water wrapped around her legs.. submerging her further and further until they both finally stopped. The water lapping around Brookes waist, and well, nearly Montana’s chest since she was a few inches shorter than Brooke.

The water seemed to be a perfect temperature despite them being at the ocean; and the rocks had since disappeared under their feet and changed back into soft sand which also made the current situation a bit more enjoyable.

Brooke tilted her head back a bit, worried momentarily that her hair might get wet but it was worth it. It was absolutely breathtaking.

The night sky which previously looked completely black and void of any light whatsoever was now painted with what looked to be a million stars.

“Do you see this?” Brooke asked.

“What, the stars?” Montana answered, her voice holding a bit of amusement to it and almost as if she was trying to hold back a laugh.

“Yeah,” Brooke affirmed with a nod. Still keeping her gaze fixated to the night sky.

“What about them?” Montana asked.

The water rippled a bit as Montana started to a take a few steps closer towards Brooke, dissatisfied at the distance between them.

“Nothing. I just- it’s beautiful. I never do things like this,” Brooke responded, tilting her head down to make eye contact with Montana as she finished her sentence.

Montana smirked.

“Never?” She asked with a laugh. “C'mon. I’m not wet enough, let’s go deeper.”

Before Brooke could protest, Montana grabbed both of her hands and pulled her deeper in the water.

“But I didn’t bring a towel!”

“Your not gonna need one. We can warm up by the fire, remember?”

They continued to keep wading until the water almost spilled over Montana’s shoulders. The water barely touching Brookes collarbones but getting some of her hair wet regardless.

She hesitantly let go of the other woman’s hand in the water, intent on using her hand to help her gain balance since a few rocks were still on the ocean ground but - the exact opposite happened.

Brooke didn’t even have time to gasp or scream before her left foot quickly slid on a random rock that just.. of course.. had to fucking be there. Her hands quickly landed on Montana’s shoulders; the rest of her body accidentally falling into the other woman’s but she only felt Montana’s hands suddenly grab gently at her back. Holding her in place against her body.

Brookes eyes instinctively closed shut but when she slowly opened them and reluctantly lifted her head higher up (silently cursing herself for accidentally getting her hair almost entirely wet now) she noticed.. how close they were to each other.

Her nose was only centimeters away from Montana's shoulder.. which meant-

“Are you okay?” Montana asked softly, speaking unintentionally right next to her ear which made a shiver run up Brookes spine.

“Mhm,” Brooke responded.

She rose her head up further - her vision fully black now due to closing her eyes so tightly and being disoriented from slipping, but she knew from hearing Montana’s voice that she had to be close. Very close.

Moving her head a bit to the left.. almost microscopically, not wanting whatever ‘this’ was to necessarily be clumsy but she knew she didn’t necessarily have a choice in the dark.

“What are you doing?” Montana continued to whisper.

Brooke couldn’t help but to smile and let out a giggle that made her sound far more drunk than she actually was. She knew exactly where Montana’s lips were now due to her speaking. Thank god.

“You’ll see.”

Brooke leaned in slowly. Briefly bumping noses before catching Montana’s lips with her own. The feeling so heavenly and overdue - not enough but simultaneously far too much to take in all at once.

The taste of dull, gut wrenching beer started to flood her mouth. It was all that Montana basically tasted like.. that and a bit like smoke but Brooke didn’t mind. If anything it made the feelings of infatuation temporarily stronger. Brookes nails started to pierce the other woman’s back; wanting nothing more than to just have.. more. More of Montana; her taste, her hands, her touch.. the feeling was both pathetic but impossible to fight any longer.

The mere thought that this was something she was previously holding herself back from having was almost laughable but- that would be something to think about for another time.

Montana’s lips softly broke from hers.

“Eager.. aren’t you?” She teased.

Brookes eyes still refused to adjust but she knew Montana had to be grinning.

“Sorry.. I just-“

“Don’t be sorry. You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Montana said lowly.

Montana suddenly leaned in with no warning. Her hands softly grabbed Brookes shoulders; leaning in to pull her bottom lip with her teeth.

After she let go, the feeling to kiss her again was strong but.. she thought of something better. The thrill of the chase was something Brooke always enjoyed, after all.

Brooke took a few steps back suddenly before quickly heading for the shore. Not really going that fast at all due to the resistance of the water pushing up against her legs but she laughed regardless.

She could hear Montana laughing and calling her a jerk in the distance but it was all just noise at this point. Her voice, the water rushing, the fire and their friends (which grew gradually louder as she approached) all started to sound the same.

Maybe the alcohol was finally kicking in.

Even though Brooke definitely felt tipsy, she still felt nervous the closer she got from being fully submerged out of the water. Maybe it was due to the fact she wasn’t certain what was going to happen at the fire, or if their friends had even heard anything but she knew atleast now she would have Montana. Exactly how she had Montana was something to be determined later, but as she finally stepped out and away from the nearly black ocean waves and ran up to the fire to go wait for Montana - she was comforted by the thought that things would now never be the same and forever would be different between the two of them.

Which had to be a good thing; right?

Taglist: @michaellangdonstanaccount @langdonsexual @jimmason @blakescoven @dark-mei-rose @9layerdevilfoodcake @prophecy-is-inevitable @matildaofoz @beautyiswithinchaos @frenchlangdon @king-with-no-crovvn @melodylangdon @littledemondani @celestialrequiem @sojournmichael @ritualmichael @waitinvain @twilightzone24

Let me know if u would like to be added or removed to the taglist hehe

[atsumiye]

hi riya!! congrats on 300!! is your event still open? you said you’d close it tomorrow, idk your timezone, but in mine the day’s still not over! do ignore this if it’s closed tho!

anyways, my fav color is prob green and i really like the fake dating trope, the angst when they do all the cutesy stuff couples do but they think the other is just pretending so they’re dying on the inside <33 ty in advance btw!

hi!! yup you got it in just in time :-) i should have clarified the time but its not closed just yet!! thank you<33

im getting very much miya osamu.

atsumu just got a girlfriend and he wont shut up about it. no atsumu, he doesn't care that your girlfriend bought you matching shoes. no he doesn't care that your girlfriend got a new dog. and no he definitely doesn't want to go on a blind date with atsumu's girlfriends best friends cousin??? so he comes to the conclusion. osamu needs a girlfriend.

as he is walking to his favorite coffee shop around the corner he doesn't know how he will find a girl willing to pretend to date for a bit just so his brother will leave him alone. and as he gets into the coffee shop, he notices one girl behind the counter and another man blocking the path to the register. and things don't seem to be going well.

"i said i have a boyfriend, hes coming now and he wont appreciate the fact that you wont leave me alone."

"i dont see him"

DING!! osamu has an idea, granted probably not a great one but its an idea.

"hey babe, you alright?" and as you play along with osamu's charade, he finally gets the man to leave you alone. as you thank him and offer to give him a coffee on the house, osamu proposes a different idea. you both pretend to date. you get all the weird high schoolers to leave you alone and he gets his brother off his back. and you know osamu from school. he isn't a creep, so you agree.

osamu introduces you to atsumu, you guys go on a bunch of dates. he holds your hand, kisses your forehead when he drops you off and even brings you lunch to work everyday. and its so nice to have someone care for you in that way but you cant help but remind yourself that these past few months have all been fake. even more so when you realize you really like him and it breaks your heart. so you decide its time to call of the charade before you get hurt even more.

so you do. and osamu is confused. but its just fake right? its not like he cooked you lunch, walked you home at night, hung out with you on weekends out of like love or anything right??

but the next few days are miserable. those weird high schoolers came back again and constantly bother you. and osamu realizes, without you he has nothing to do anymore. what hurt the most was when he cooked you a little bento and started walking to the cafe only to remember <///3

its been a week, and tonight is the day you get off really late at night. and osamu is nervously waiting for you outside and offers to walk you home. its awkward, quiet and thats when he breaks the silence. he likes you. a lot. and you explain how you like him as well but broke it off to spare your own feelings.

he understands but asks to start over again. this time for real.

those high schoolers never bothered you again. not when osamu is around 24/7.

[bunnirs]

Scarlet Crossroads

Chapter 5: Trust

Previous/Next

Scarlet Crossroads Masterlist

For being one phase, it seemed to carry on forever. Sure, you were a patient person, but that didn’t mean you liked doing nothing for such an extended amount of time.

To be honest, you weren’t just doing ‘nothing’. You were running in the woods, your shoes covered in mud, the cold mist hitting you in the face as you took large steps. You were confident in your tracking abilities, knowing that if you somehow lagged behind, you’d find the group quickly. (Not that it would ever happen though.)

That’s why you didn’t hesitate to stick behind with your newfound companions, Leorio and Kurapika, as they trailed behind Gon and Killua.

You must say, their progress was surprising. Neither of them seemed a bit tired, nor worried. It was comforting in a way, their innocence that is. Looking at them could be compared to still water, resting in its permanent tranquility, unbothered by the unforgiveness of the other elements.

You hoped it would forever stay that way, but of course, life is cruel, and so are the people who walk with it. Breaking from your thoughts, you notice that the two pre-teens had wondered ahead, separating themselves from the group, or maybe even someone in particular.

There was no question as to who it was, which made it all the more amusing to you. The magician hadn’t even tried to hide his aura, the lust practically seeping off of him. As to why your brother affiliated with him? That answer remains unknown.

You glance at your comrades, Kurapika and Leorio matching paces, their breathing evening out with each other. As much as the two liked to argue, they sure did match pretty well. It was as if their personalities were made to clash, often butting heads about some small thing that really held no interest to you.

As you listened to the men ahead of you, you almost wanted to scoff. It seems you weren’t the only one pissed off at Hisoka’s advances. The more you glanced at them, the more they stood out to you. They were running in a formation that looked almost thought out, as if they all knew each other. Most likely a gang of some sort.

Whatever the case was, Hisoka got lucky. He’d be able to let loose some of his pent up bloodlust, meaning, he’d maybe calm down for once.

You merely scowled at the thought, knowing that it would never come true. Hisoka didn’t know the definition of calm, well atleast, your definition of it. You knew that these men wouldn’t complete this exam, much less this phase. They wouldn’t even get to go home to whatever families they had, hug their children, wives, whatever they had waiting for them.

But they chose to come here, knowing the consequences behind it. Murder upon contestants was legal, knowing that as long as the examiners were safe, they didn’t care what happened to you. How comforting.

As you watched Hisoka from afar, he seemed to be luring the group into a separate direction, and as much as you’d like to follow him, you had to stick with Leorio and Kurapika.

Minutes felt like hours, and to your dismay, the fog only grew. If it weren’t for your background, you might have fallen for the tricks used by the creatures of Swindlers Swamp.

Speaking of which, it was pathetic watching these men subject to the noises around them. They gave in to their fear, letting their feet guide them to something even greater.

You stopped as soon as Kurapika and Leorio began to slow their pace, almost like they were out of breath.

“What’s up?” You questioned, your feet digging into the mud below you. “Something wrong?”

Leorio cried out in shock, pointing ahead of him. “Of course somethings wrong?! Where’d the other contestants go?!”

Kurapika was wide eyed, watching as something began to move closer.

Your eyes widened, your arm reaching behind you to grab something from your bag when suddenly someone walked past you. They looked to be in a daze, the contestant clearly confused.

As soon as he got close enough to the object, he disappeared with a yelp, causing Kurapika to jump backwards.

It seems you hadn’t been careful enough, and led them right into a trap. Hopefully, by saving everyone’s asses, you could make it up to them.

With that in mind, you rushed forward, shoving the two men behind you just as the ground tore apart.

Large portions of earth were kicked towards you, your arms crossing as you braced for impact. Before they could touch you, you appeared in the air, landing gracefully on your feet, away from the destruction.

Before you stood a Noggin Lugging Tortoise, a monster who used food shaped spikes on their back to lure prey towards it. It was smart, but due to its size, it wouldn’t be fast enough to keep up with you.

You looked back towards Kurapika and Leorio, the other contestants running away from the large monster. How pathetic, but at least they knew they couldn’t win this fight.

You ran to join the duo, standing back to back with them, your eyes tracing the air around you. From what you could tell, three of the monsters had circled around you, all preparing to crush their jaws down on your tiny, fragile, human bodies.

Before they could do that, you rushed forward, pulling a long metal staff from out of your bag. It’s sharp edges gave off a harsh glare from whatever light was exposed, making it look all the more deadly.

It crackled with energy, the engravings turning a deep red, glowing with what seemed to be the power of its owner.

You sprung upwards, the edge of the staff making contact with the brittle skin of the beast, immediately piercing through it. It let out a shriek, trying to shake you off, but it was of no use.

The area you had punctured turned a deep purple, almost as if it was completely out of blood.

That’s when you pulled back, jumping down from your suspended position, your staff spinning in the air as it made it back to your hand.

The large monster fell to the ground, its eyes drooping to a close. It shook the ground as it made contact, almost comparable to that of an earthquake.

You whipped your head around as you heard the shouts of Leorio, who had gotten caught in the mouth of another beast, wood being his savior as it prevented the jaw from closing.

That’s when Kurapika jumped into the air, his wooden blades piercing the monster's eyes, his eyes filled with nothing but worry for his friend.

That’s when you noticed a difference between the two of you. He did it to save his friend, while you, did it to strengthen the trust they held for you. He did it out of selflessness, while you did it for your own confirmation.

You scowled, the staff shrinking in your hand as you stepped forward, catching Leorio as he dropped to the ground, his weight almost taking you off guard.

Kurapika shouted a quick “Let’s go”, before sprinting further into the fog, knowing you’d be close behind.

As you quickly followed his example, you glanced down at Leorio, who seemed to have experienced whiplash. “You alright there, tough guy?”

He blushed at the current predicament, somehow forgetting the large monster that was growling from behind him. “Y-yeah! Of course I’m fine! You can’t really expect that to stop me, can you?!” He huffed, flailing his arms, almost hitting you in the face. “And can you put me down?! A woman isn’t supposed to be holding a man like this, it’ll give someone the wrong idea!”

“Like what? I saved your ass?” You question, your eyes narrowing. “Cause it’s true.” You paused, looking behind you at where the monster used to be. “That fall would have broken a tailbone, which could interfere with the performance of the exam.”

“Well, I didn’t! So, I guess what I’m supposed to say is, thank you! But seriously, put me down!” Leorio complained, sounding almost like a child.

“Alright fine.” You rolled your eyes, dropping him on the ground, his rear making contact with the wet ground. His head shot up at you, a strong glare on his face. “What? You said to put you down.” You smiled, glancing at Kurapika, who seemed to mirror your expression.

“Not like that-“ he groaned, sitting up to wipe off his pants. “Just- whatever! I don’t care! Let’s just go before we really get behind!”

“Right, like we aren’t already.” You muttered, starting to match paces with Kurapika, your eyes trying to read his features.

Kurapika’s own eyes met your gaze, his orbs widening a bit when he noticed you were staring. He bashfully looked forward again, his teeth baring down on eachother.

“Also, are you gonna explain the weird stuff you did back there?! I kinda wanna know who I’m traveling with! You haven’t said a word about yourself, and you expect us to trust you?!” Leorio had caught up, looking at your bag, almost like he was going to rip it from straps that kept it close to your back.

“Leorio, she doesn’t have to say anything if she isn’t interested, not everyone is nosy like you.” Kurapika mumbled. “She saved you from that fall, you should be thankful and leave it at that.”

You chuckled softly, a genuine grin on your face as the boys argued over you. “It’s quite alright actually.” You spoke, your voice clear as day, almost as if water had been released from their ears. “I don’t mind sharing some things.”

“Great! Now, I’ve got a few questions.” Leorio pondered, his eyes trailing your body, a cheeky smile on his lips. “What’s your-“

Before he could finish his sentence, your hand collided with his mouth, clamming it shut.

Ahead of you stood a clearing, Hisoka and the group from before standing in front of each other, a wicked smile on the magician's face.

Shit.

TYSM FOR READING CHAPTER FIVE BABES!!! THIS IS WHERE WE STARTING GETTING INTO IT!!! IM NOT THE BEST WHEN IT COMES TO FIGHTING SCENES, SO I HOPE THIS WENT WELL?? IM HOPING SCARLET CROSSROADS WILL HELP ME GET GOOD AT ACTION SCENES HAHAH!

ANYWAY, THANK YOU ALL FOR BEING SO CONSIDERATE LAST WEEK! I was seriously going through something AND I don’t think It would’ve ended well if It weren't for the HUGE AMOUNT of support I got from you!!! I love you all so much, so please, take my love. If you ever need anything, send me a dm or an ask, I’ll answer it in a heartbeat.

[hansolmates]

jjk; angel’s trumpet [08]

summary; one second, your life is flashing before your eyes and the next, you’re transported into a world exactly like your own. but the jungkook you meet in this world isn’t a renowned singer or your former almost-lover, in fact he has no clue who you are and why you know him so well. as you work to find your way home lost and confused, you conclude that you’re either dead or in the middle of the most wicked drug trip of your life. pairing; idol!jk x reader (f), alternatively film producer!jk x reader genre/warnings; fluff, angst, supernatural, idol!au, non-idol!au, alternate universes, themes of fate, language, alcohol consumption, in this chapter–mentions of sex, a panic attack w.c; 4.5k a/n; can’t believe there’s one more chapter after this! (+the bonus chapter!) its such a bittersweet feeling to close this all up so i hope u all join me in my w2!jk sobbing party im making matcha cookies rn so i can wallow

[07] [08] [final] -> masterpost

Jungkook’s worried. 

After he left your apartment, he dove himself into his work and tried to get you out of his head. Somehow he ended up from his living room table to his bed, bleary and with a pen jabbing him in the cheek. He doesn’t know how he feels right now, and has micro analyzed every bit of your relationship in between breaks.

He fell fast, and loving you (as much as it scares himself to admit) was so easy it hurt. It’s why it’s so hard for him to accept that you would betray him like that. What could he have possibly done to deserve this? If you had just admitted your issues from day one, this crisis could have easily been averted and you would be with him right now. 

But that’s not why he’s worried. Jungkook wakes up the following day around 10AM, noting the dozens of messages and unanswered phone calls from Jimin and Taehyung. 

According to Taehyung, you’ve been missing for three days. Off-the-grid type of missing, to the point that Taehyung is debating on whether or not he should call the police. 

The first day you didn’t come home, Taehyung chalked it up as you spending the night at Jungkook’s. The second day however, he visits the library where your office hours are held only to find your usual table empty and your students upset over your lack of contact. 

“Here,” Doyeon had said, pointing to the vague email you sent. Taehyung skimmed through the barebones message, mentioning that you had to take an indefinite leave and that the students can email Professor Kim Namjoon if they still had lingering questions. 

Taehyung notes the sincere apology at the bottom, and how you tack on that “you are a wonderful group of students and I wish you the best of luck in your future endeavors.” 

Almost as if you aren’t planning to come back. 

He could hear Taehyung deflate on the line, knowing that Jungkook has no idea where you are either. 

“Did you…” Jungkook scratches his head, sitting at his kitchen table, “did you check her room for a yellow notebook?” 

“What?” Taehyung asks, “I checked her room yesterday. Y’know the weird thing is? Her room is clean, like clinically clean. There’s nothing on her desk, the sheets are washed, and her clothes are all folded and put away. Usually it’s like a whirlwind in here.” 

“Yeah,” Jungkook replies, remembering how your room is usually quite lived in, with warm sheets and a candle glowing. 

“Why aren’t you more stressed out, dude?” Taehyung says, and Jungkook instantly feels guilty. “Your girlfriend’s fucking missing, are you gonna get up and help or not?” 

“Y-yeah, I’m just a little shaken,” he manages to reply, thinking about how you tried to explain to him the other night. He pinches the bridge between his brows, regretting not letting you have your word when refusing to listen to you. Maybe if he heard it, things would have turned out differently.

Taehyung sighs, “Yeah, it’s a bit of a shock. She really isn’t like this normally, but I trust her. If you can, maybe contact Jung Hoseok? I already visited Kim Namjoon and he doesn’t know anything, but he’s the only friend I know that could have any idea.” 

Jung Hoseok. He remembers that name frequently in your notebook. Not as frequently as his, but enough to have a good idea he could be involved in your sudden departure. 

“Okay, I’ll visit him today.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

The tables that you usually occupy for study groups are painfully absent of your presence, noted by your stressed out students that are hoping you’ll show up unexpectedly. 

Thankfully, Hoseok is working today. Jungkook eyes him from the doorway of the playroom, seeing Hoseok carefully distribute plates of snacks as a movie plays on the flatscreen. He looks like a preschooler himself, decked out in a sunflower yellow bucket hat and denim suspenders. Jungkook tries to see if there’s anything strange emanating from Hoseok, like if he also has secrets to hide, but feels nothing of the sort.  

“You’re really creepy, Mister,” the door swings open to reveal a little girl, tugging impatiently at his cargos. 

Hoseok makes a face at Jungkook, rolling his eyes. “God, just come in. You’re scaring my children.” 

The little girl practically shoves him inside, forcing him to sit at the playtable on the very end. She then hands him a plate of cheddar Goldfish and strawberry fruit snacks, a toddler’s delicacy. Hoseok makes a show of telling the children to be quiet, focusing on the movie’s “historical elements” and “symbolic imagery” but they don’t understand any of that and just want Hoseok to move so they can watch Mulan. 

Jungkook feels like he’s being crushed in the too-small chair and Fisher-Price table, munching absentmindedly on his Goldfish. Hoseok is playing on his phone, not sparing him a glance as he texts someone. 

Jungkook swallows, wishing he had some milk to down the snack. “Uh, are you texting y/n?” 

“No,” Hoseok replies coolly. 

“Well, do you know where she is?” 

“I can tell you where she went,” Hoseok replies eerily, plucking a fruit snack from Jungkook’s place, “as to whether she’s still there or not, I’m not sure.” 

“I’m sorry, but are you mad at me?” he whisper-hisses, not wanting to disturb the children enamoured at the front of the room. He’s tired of the secrecy and blurry answers. 

“Yes, I am,” Hoseok snaps just as quietly, leaning in to get into his face, “I’m mad because I believed in you.” 

“Believed in me?” he gapes, “you don’t even know me!” 

“I may not, but I believed you’d trust y/n at least. She’s a victim too, y’know.” 

A victim? 

“Look,” Jungkook puts some space between them, afraid he would get too heated, “just tell me what’s going on so I can understand. I know I messed up, but I feel like I’ve been in the dark for God knows how long.”

Hoseok bites his lip, “It’s really not my story to tell. Y/n didn’t want to tell you right away because she wasn’t sure of the circumstances. She wasn’t sure even if she was supposed to tell you.” 

Jungkook watches the expressions morph on Hoseok’s face. He sees the faith in his gaze, as he holds his phone expectantly, as if he’s also waiting for a sign that you’re okay. Jungkook suppresses a sigh, looking at his own blank screen. Shaking his head, he manages to smile knowing that so many people believe in you.

So why can’t he? 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

You hate this. Three days ago you felt peachy keen, ready to transcend into your own universe and live your life to the fullest. 

Now three days later you’re sitting at the wine lady’s cottage, waiting for the past two days for her to show up. 

“How long does she need to go on this ‘spiritual retreat’?” you admonish, looking on angrily at the same waitress that has served you for the past two days. 

“I don’t know,” the waitress has grown tired of your presence, waiting all day in the little restaurant for the owner’s presence, “until she feels more spiritual, I guess?” 

It annoys you further that this waitress has the spitting image of Sehlyung. It’s weird to see her with natural pin straight black hair, always loving the pretty blond-white color and sacrificing her hair health for the bright hue. Every time she sees you still in the same spot, she makes it a point to roll her eyes and walk a little louder. This version of her is just as temperamental, unwilling to budge. 

You groan, shamelessly annoyed as you drop your head on your arm. “And are you sure there’s no angel’s wine in the bar? I’m willing to take the risk of switching lives with my third dimension-self at this rate.” 

The waitress eyes the one empty bottle of soju that decorate your side of the bar, chalking it up as a drunk episode. “No,” she says flatly, jerking her hand out. “Now, please pay and leave. We’re closing up, but I’ll give you a call if she decides to show up late. Since y’know, you’ve left your number here despite our protests.” 

“Can I stay until you’re at least done cleaning—” 

“No.” 

You narrow your eyes, snatching up your half-finished bottle of soju before tucking it in your purse and offering up your credit card in exchange. You know you’re not in the right mind, but you’re pulling at strings at this point and you don’t know what to do. 

After a couple paces of shaky walking and trying very hard not to appear tipsy in public, you plop yourself onto the beach, overlooking the shore. You place your backpack next to you, taking off your shoes and dipping your toes in the sand. 

You glare hard at the moon, despite the distance the big ball of extraterrestrial rock is bright and full. It reflects in the ocean and bathes you in it’s grace. 

Sighing at its beauty, you take a swig of your soju as your feet wade in the water. The touch of the ocean is glaringly cold, but your body feels warm and the contrast is appropriately jarring. You feel stuck between two worlds, your body in one while your heart is in the other, desperate to find the bridge to bring you home. 

What exactly was the goal in bringing you here? Did you need a break from your real life? Did fate want you to remedy your relationship with Jungkook? Were you supposed to rewrite the wrongs you committed in your other life? 

You snort, taking a long swig. It's easy to see how well that went. 

You miss your life back home. As much as you love the one your alternate self has made here, nothing compares to Sehlyung’s humor and dirty jokes. Nothing compares to the look on Beomgyu’s face after getting a sentence translation correct. Nothing compares to the way Jungkook looks for only you after a concert, desperate to give you a hug and an affirmation that he did well. 

Just as you are about to sing to the moon and beg for a reprieve, a body plops themselves next to you, snatching the bottle from your hands. 

“Y’know, normally when people run away, they leave a mysterious note.” 

You frown at Jungkook, who looks absolutely ethereal as he stares at the moon. He’s glittering in his denim jacket and black jeans, as if he’s part of an intimate moment in a slice-of-life film. You have half a mind to grab your phone and yell at Hoseok, but it’s far too late since your location has already been revealed. 

“What are you doing here?” you ask, trying not to snap when Jungkook pours the contents of your drink into the ocean. “Hey, I paid for that.” 

Ignoring you he says, “I’m here to take you home.” 

“I don’t have a home here,” you snap, and you mean it. 

Jungkook digs a hole for your bottle, letting the sea green grass sit in the sandhole. He turns to you, looking weary and worried. You try not to feel worried over the slump in his chest, or the way he looks like he ran a marathon to find you. 

“Then where is your home?” he asks gently, resting an arm over his knee and turning to face you. 

You curl up further into your body, hoping you’ll shrink if you press your legs close enough to your chest. “It’s not here,” you mumble into your knees. 

“Tell me where,” and you don’t shove him away when he puts his palm on your thigh, coaxing you out of your shell. “I’ll listen this time.” Deathly slow, you lift your head up, letting him catch your stray tears and spread your body with warmth. He scoots over to you, the rough sand making it difficult as he tries to wrap his arm around you. The both of you let out a breath, missing each other’s touch. “I’m sorry,” he says, the apologies melting into your temple, “I should’ve listened from the beginning, and been more patient. It’s my fault you’re all the way out here.” 

The oceans crash against both of your feet, the water eager to swallow you whole. 

“Two months ago I got into a fight with you, the other you,” you start, and Jungkook doesn’t budge, and you’re thankful he doesn’t attempt to bombard you with questions, “it wasn’t a stupid fight. It was something building for a long, long time. And I came home drunk. One second, I was two seconds away from being sideswept by an incoming truck, and the next second it’s daytime and it’s you that nearly runs me over.” 

He rubs small circles into your shoulder, and you almost hum at his touch. You miss Jungkook so much. 

“The Jungkook I’ve told you about isn’t dead,” you explain, “he’s—and I’m, we’re from another universe.” 

And between you, Jungkook, and the moon you profess your journey. Starting from the anxiety you felt from the first week, how you holed yourself in your apartment until Namjoon had to whisk you out, to your relief when Hoseok believed your crazy ideas. Halfway through you decide to piece your theories within the story, your last conversation with Jungkook, coupled with the angel’s wine and explaining how scary it was to see your matching tattoos and the meaning behind them. 

“But, I wasn’t trying to fall in love with you so I could go home,” you admit tearfully, feeling the weight of the night on your shoulders, “it, it just happened naturally. It made me believe that in another world, we would’ve worked out. Just like he said.”  

“I believe you,” he says firmly, exhaling. The whole explanation, understatedly, is a lot to take in. But he isn’t going to reject it, in fact as absurd as it is it makes far more sense than you planning out a Jungkook-inspired sci-fi novel or questioning your sanity. “I—I didn’t want to at first. It was easier to say you were crazy but, it doesn’t seem like the case. The way you saw me that morning we met, I could see how much you cared for me—him—us?” he scratches his head, unsure of how he should refer to himself in the situation.  

“I don’t blame you,” you shake your head, “Namjoon wanted me to see a doctor.” 

“It must’ve been hard,” he states, “seeing so much of him in me.” 

“You are him,” you retort, looking up so that your noses are touching. There’s pain in both your gazes, equally upset at the circumstances. “I’m sorry you got the short end of the stick. I wish you could’ve met me, the other me, under normal circumstances.” 

“Remember what I said before?” he asks, lifting a hand to brush your hair behind your ear. “I said that our meeting was fate. And now I believe it more than ever.” 

You laugh, leaning your head against his shoulder. “Y’know, Jungkook believes in fate too. He used to joke about hearing the bell when he found ‘the one’ like in Kimi No Na Wa.” 

Jungkook grins, “That guy of yours seems pretty cool,” he jokes, “let him know that in our case, the bell was my horn because I didn’t wanna run you over.” 

The whole situation is confusing, but you’re thankful that Jungkook seems to be at ease now that all your cards are laid out. 

“So does your Jungkook do film too?” 

“Uh,” you choke out a cough, “he’s actually a singer, dancer, producer, and films when he has the time. Mostly singer, the main one in a K-pop group. With Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Seokjin.” 

He gapes, “Kim Seokjin? The actor Seokjin? Damn he’s like, super fine—” 

“God this is so weird.” 

“So how many figures are they making a year? In the hundred-thousands, like six-figures?” 

“Er, more like eight,” you squeak, “and then some. But you put a lot of your money into donations.” 

“Damn babe, you downgraded,” Jungkook jokes, and you smack him playfully on the arm. “So that’s how you got the song, huh?” 

“Still With You? Yeah,” you say, running your hands through the soft sand, “it’s weird to live in a world without your music, byproduct of my job. It happens to be a big part of my life,” your eyes glaze over the ocean, “I missed hearing your voice.” 

“Y/n,” Jungkook threads his fingers through the sand to find your hands, “I’m really, really sorry I doubted you.” 

You disagree, “It’s a crazy situation. I don’t even know if I’m really sane at this moment,” you chuckle, “I mean, the time went by so fast. I would be paranoid because for you, it’s like being in a new relationship. I didn’t think it would be so easy to love you all over again like that.” 

“Neither did I.” Jungkook replies warmly, and he smiles when he sees you gaping. He leans over to press a kiss to your lips, a feeling long-missed. “And a little part of me knows he feels the same way, too.” 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s almost 12AM before you return to your apartment, dripping wet because neither of you anticipated the sudden spring shower. You tumble in like wet noodles, giggling like children in hushed whispers as you struggle to find the lightswitch. 

The lights blare on for you, Taehyung’s fingers hanging by the toggle. His hair is wet from the shower, and he looks like he sees a Christmas miracle when he wraps you up in his arms, despite the protest of you being dirty with sand and salt. 

“You dummy, don’t ever scare me like that ever again!” he sobs into your shoulder, and you return the embrace as you pat his head comfortingly. 

“Sorry Tae,” you say, “had to do a little soul-searching.” 

Jungkook rolls his eyes, more like world-searching if anyone were to ask his honest opinion. But Taehyung is looking past your body to mumble a teary ‘thank you’ to Jungkook, and he nods his head politely. 

“Well next time you soul search, you better call.” 

“Done and done.” 

Satisfied that you are going to stay the night and not budge, Taehyung returns to his room. He gives you a good scolding however, and he makes you promise that you’ll give him the full story over breakfast. 

After that bump, Jungkook and you can’t keep your hands off each other. You two shower the grime off your bodies, taking turns shampooing and scrubbing. Even after you’re clean and towel-dried, Jungkook’s fingers fail to untack from your skin, pushing you eagerly to your mattress as he presses kisses along your clothed body. He’s singing against your skin, waxing poetics about how beautiful you are and how much he loves you. 

“Jung—koo, Jungkook,” you say breathlessly, running your fingers through his damp locks, “Taehyung’s in the other room, we can’t be loud.” 

“Don’t,” kiss, “give,” kiss, “a fuck,” Jungkook pants, large hands trailing over your soft skin, memorizing every inch of you, He presses his length against your thigh, insistent, “if this is the last time, we’re going off with fireworks, baby.” 

And with that, you relent. It’s nothing short of electric, the way he takes great care but great power into your pleasure. He takes his time, as if it isn’t the first and last night, tracing every inch of your body because he doesn’t know what the future entails for the both of you. 

You’re equally stung like live-wire, wracking with pleasure as he seals his affirmation to you with sweet nothings, bodies pressed against each other feverently like they’ve always meant to be. Every bit of contact is purposeful, unbridled and overflowing with affection. 

When you’re done you’re both sweaty and almost painfully content, acceptant of the ambiguity of your futures. 

“Jungkook?” you ask, holding his hand tightly.

“Yes, pretty girl?” 

“Will you… fall in love with me again?” 

“Is that even a question?” he balks, leaning forward to peck your nose. He smiles at the way you scrunch your face. “Your office hours are 1-3PM, Mondays and Thursdays in the general library. If you’re not there, you’re teaching the History of Neuroscience in the ARC building on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10:20 to 12:10. I also know where you live, so.”  

You don’t care how sweaty you are, and tuck your head underneath his chin, needing to be closer. 

“I will find you,” he promises, “hopefully not under my bike the second time around, but I’ll take what I can get.” 

“You’ll have a lot of explaining to do, y’know,” you sigh into his chest, feeling it rumble as your hair dampens. Your hair has dried long ago from the shower, but you know Jungkook’s trying hard to be strong as he cries into your crown, “you should leave before I wake up, just in case.” 

“Hoseok and I will handle it,” Jungkook assures you, “we’re like the Power Rangers, defenders of space and time.” 

“Alright Red Ranger, make sure you’re at least clothed before I wake up, then.” 

He pulls away lightly, seeing your equally red-rimmed eyes and ruddy cheeks. Both of you bump arms as you try to wipe away each other’s tears. The moon continues its power over your bodies, the only source of light in the room. Despite its movement since your time at the beach, it continues to illuminate the room and make the moment glisten with the rhythm of time. 

“You really think this is the end for us, huh?” his voice cracks, his hands cradling your face. 

Stretching to reach him, you press a kiss on every available centimeter of skin on his face. His forehead, his cheeks, his chin, his lips. You take care to kiss the tears away, silently wishing nothing but the best for him. He immediately melts into your touch, and he gives you a teary smile. 

“It’s not the end,” you assure, “it’s our beginning. Thank you, for loving me.” 

Jungkook nods, pressing a long, sweet kiss to your lips. “I can’t wait to fall in love with you again.” 

The two of you sleep like that, not with a goodbye, but with a promise. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

W1. 

When you wake up, it’s loud. 

The transition is jarring, painfully so. Gone are your soft flannel comforter, replaced with dry, scratchy sheets that are a poor excuse for bedwear. Your hands are heavy, bounded by the fluids snaking into your bloodstream. Your eyes are crusty and bleary, taking in the plain white and wood room. The sharp sound of the monitor reverberates in your ears, a high-pitched reminder of your slow vitals. 

Everything is painful, confirming that in fact you did get hit by that truck. You give props to your alternate self for dealing with this for the past two months. 

Your eyes dart around the room, taking in the night sky and the full moon looming above you. The only other person in the room is your baby niece, who is just short of five years old. She has since ceased coloring at her little table, her little mouth gaping open like a pufferfish. You make eye contact with her, and she nearly spills over her 64-count Crayola pack as she throws herself off the chair, running over to reach for your hand. 

“Auntie!” she cheers, the biggest smile on her face, “you’re awake! Mama said you were hibernating like bears do, and that you would probably wake up by spring time. She was right!” 

Although it pains you to smile, you manage to squeeze her hand in return. You open your mouth, the inside feeling tacky and gross. “Ah-ah,” you grimace when no sound comes out, just rasps and ghosts of what once was your voice. 

Your niece’s face crumples, and she lets go of you. “Imma go get mama, she’ll bring help!” 

She leaves you alone to succumb to the beeps of your monitors and the pain in your bones. Your fingers grapple the paper-thin sheets, and your gaze drifts to the moon. You think of Jungkook, sleeping blissfully in bed, holding you with so much tenderness and care. In a matter of what felt like minutes since you fell asleep in his arms, disappears just like that. 

The doctors and your family find you hysterically crying, the monitors going crazy as you hyperventilate yourself into a stupor. You feel like you’re choking on air, whatever little tubes in your body restricting access to fully express how torn and conflicted you’re feeling all over again. The medical expertise does work to evacuate your family, chalking your reactions up as your trauma catching up to you and the shock of the past two months hitting you full force. 

•━━━━━━»•»💮💮💮«•«━━•••

It’s nearly 3AM when the music cuts out with no explanation, and Jungkook is annoyed. He just got that set down and he finally felt confident in adding facial expressions, but the manager killed the music and now his head is spinning. 

He’s heaving, hands on his head as he tries to get his body back to equilibrium. He watches intently as Namjoon immediately takes the call, not even bothering to leave the studio to answer it. The rest of the members watch as Namjoon’s expressions morph into happiness, combined with short “yes”es and “I understands.” 

Namjoon makes eye contact with Jungkook first and beams, “She’s awake!” 

What originally felt like a hot and stifling room, immediately dissipates into an air of relief. While not all the members may not know you personally, the thought of a fellow co-worker on the road to recovery is enough to ease their exhaustion. 

“What?” Jungkook doesn’t hide it, and collapses on the floor, thoroughly spent for today. “Is she okay?” 

“Well, she actually just passed out. But she’s conscious.” 

“What, why?” Jimin asks, rolling a water bottle over to Jungkook. 

“Doctors say she woke up in a panic, started freaking out when it sunk in that she’s been in a coma since winter.” Jungkook’s heart squeezes painfully of the thought of you scared and feeling trapped in that small hospital bed. 

“Well, can we go see her in the morning?” Jungkook says hopefully, biting his lip. 

“We can’t,” Namjoon confesses, looking down at his shoes in disappointment, “at least not right now. y/n was apparently terrified. The doctors think she’s suffering from some form of PTSD, because she can’t recall anything that happened after she got hit. Her guardians are sending her to a facility for her to process her trauma. It’s in the countryside, and she’s not allowed visitors until she’s fully recovered.” 

Just when Jungkook thinks he has you back, you’re already far from his reach. He should be happy, knowing that you are well on your way to get better. He’s thankful enough that you’re finally awake. But the small, selfish part of him wants to visit you, and comfort you. 

Whether you’ll let him or not is your choice, but this time, he decides he’s going to fight for you. 

[hopelikethemoon]

Sleepy Moments (Javier x Reader) {MTMF}

Title: Sleepy Moments Rating: PG-13 Length: 1500 Warnings: Brief allusions of sex.  Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set February 1993. This was supposed to be longer, but I got trapped in my VR world.  Summary: Javier comes home from a statekout. 

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @beccaplaying @rogrsnbarnes@thewallpapergoesorido​ @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex@ham4arrow@plexflexico​ @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501​ @fioccodineveautunnale  @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts​@synystersilenceinblacknwhite​ @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead​ @exrebelshocktrooper​@awesomefandomsunited​ @ah-callie​ @swhiskeys​ @lady-tano​ @u-wakatoshii​ @space-floozy​@cable-kenobi​ @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes​ @findhimfives​ @pedrosdoll​ @frietiemeloen​@arrowswithwifi​ @random066​ @uncomicalhumour​ @heather-lynn​ @domino-oh-damn@cyarikaaa​ @ahopelessromanticwritersworld​ @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl​  @yabby-girl​ @xqueenofthecraziesx​ @punkass-potato​@coredrive​ @pascalesque​@theduchessofkirkcaldy​ @queenquazar​ @sabinemorans​ @buckstaposition​ @holkaskrosnou​@yespolkadotkitty @fleetwoodmactshirt​ @seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie​ @jaime1110​@katlikeme​

You wandered out of your bedroom, stifling a quiet yawn as you made your way, barefoot, into the kitchen to find yourself something to eat for breakfast. 

Instead of heading for the cabinet with the cereal, you went straight for the freezer and grabbed the carton of ice cream out. 

You sat it on the counter and opened the fridge to find the orange marmalade that was stashed in the door. An odd combination, but something you’d be craving since the middle of the night. 

You grabbed a bowl out of the cabinet and a spoon out of the drawer and headed for the kitchen table. 

At least Javier wasn’t there to judge your eating habits — though you were certain he was starting to get used to your cravings. 

You popped off the lid of the vanilla ice cream, spooning some into your bowl, before dumping a heap of marmalade over it. You groaned as you took a bite; the sweet combination of milky dairy and fruit hitting the spot. 

A noise in the family room caught your attention and you jerked your head towards the sofa — brows furrowed as you waited to hear it again. It almost sounded like snoring…

“Javier!” You shouted and he jerked bolt-upright on the sofa, nearly falling off in his haste. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You questioned, holding your bowl of ice cream as you glared at him. 

“Shit.” He rubbed at his eyes, raking his fingers through his hair. “I finished the stakeout at four.” Javier explained, scratching the back of his neck as he walked into the kitchen. “Didn’t want to wake you.”

You rolled your eyes, “You gave me a fucking heart attack.”

Javier gave your bowl of ice cream a pointed look, “Yes, I can see you’re terrified.” 

“Fuck off.” You flipped him off, before taking another bite of your treat. “You have no idea what it’s like to have these cravings.”

“I’m not immune to cravings.” Javier retorted, gesturing to what you had on. “Is this what I miss out on when I’m stuck on stakeouts?”

You glanced downwards, “I was hot. Do not judge me.” You were still clinging to the clothes you’d been able to wear before you started showing. The tee you had on had ridden up to show off your rounded stomach and your underwear. It was definitely a look. 

“Not judging.” He smirked, “I’m definitely admiring.” Javier ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “What are you eating?”

“Ice cream and marmalade.” You shrugged, taking another bite. “Nothing else sounded good.” Your brows rose upwards, “As much as I miss stakeouts, I don’t miss the ones that dragged on into the next day.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and nodded, “I’m fucking wiped,” Javier said as he stepped around you and moved to make himself a cup of coffee. “Handed our info over to Search Bloc.” 

You sat down at the table, smiling when Javier grabbed the carton of ice cream and put it back in the freezer for you. “I promise I’ll let you sleep today.” 

“It’s fine,” He assured you, stifling another yawn. “I don’t need to sleep.” Javier grabbed a chair from the table and pulled it around to sit down next to you. “How’d you sleep?”

“Your daughter kept me up all night.” You said, rubbing your hand over the swell of your stomach. 

His lips drew upwards at the corners, “Sounds like we both need a nap today.”

You nodded your head, taking another bite of the ice cream. “Wanna try?” You questioned, spooning up another bit of ice cream and marmalade and holding it out for him. 

Javier bypassed the spoon, kissing you instead. “Not bad.” He smirked, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “And easier to manage than tracking down Cheetos in the middle of the night.”

You grinned as you took another bite and licked the spoon. “I’m a simple woman of simple needs.” 

He reached out and rested his hand on your stomach, brushing his fingers over the bare skin revealed to him under the hem of your shirt. “Do you need me to bring over more of my shirts?”

You scrunched up your nose, “Maybe.” You took your last bite of ice cream, licking your lips as you sat the bowl aside. “You should’ve come to bed this morning.” You told him, reaching out to fluff your fingers through his hair. 

“Didn’t want to wake you.” He told you, closing his eyes as he enjoyed you playing with his hair. 

“If I had known you were out here, you could’ve helped me with a little problem I had.” You said, dropping your voice low as you traced your fingers over his cheekbone. 

His brows rose upwards, “And what was that problem?”

You bit down on your bottom lip, feigning innocence. “Oh, just a dream about you.” You sat back in your seat, “Your coffee’s done.”

“You’ve caught my interest.” Javier told you, resting his hand on your upper thigh. “What was this dream about?”

“Well,” You started, leaning back in your seat and let your thighs part. “What have I been dreaming about?”

His brows furrowed, “Last week you dreamed you were being chased by the Rocketeer. Underwater.” He reminded you, his lashes fluttering as he blinked slowly. 

Working until four in the morning and being abruptly woken up at seven has taken a toll on him. 

“Okay, so my dreams have been weird.” You laughed, pushing your fingers through your hair. “Just forget it.” You gave his hand a squeeze with your other hand, before rising from your seat to throw your bowl in the sink and get his coffee for him. 

“Baby,” Javier drawled out as he rose from his seat and followed you towards the coffee pot. “Come on, you can tell me.”

You turned around to face him, leaning back against the counter as you met his gaze. Your cheeks were burning hot. “I had yet another sex dream.” You pointed at him. “Between being kicked in my kidneys all night and waking up from very erotic dreams when I do sleep, this pregnancy is going to kill me.” 

Javier crowded in close to you, one hand on your stomach and the other at your cheek. “I’m not against helping you, baby.”

“Javi,” You said warmly, cupping both of his cheeks. “Your bags have bags and I can tell you’re trying to keep your eyes open. I love you, but you’re going straight to bed.” 

He grumbled against yours lips as you pressed yours to his, “I just need a cup of coffee.”

“And six hours of sleep.” You patted his cheek, before taking ahold of his hand and leading him down the hall to your bedroom. “Come on.”

“Fine.” He sighed, kicking off his shoes and ridding himself of his jeans and his shirt. 

You both climbed back into bed, sinking down beneath the covers comfortably. “Maybe this afternoon we can explore my dreams and watch some telenovelas together.” You told him, playing your fingers through his hair as he rested his cheek against your shoulder. 

Javier ran his hand over your stomach, “Sounds like a plan, baby.”

You kissed his forehead, “You’re exhausted. They’ve had you out every night this week.” 

“It’s bullshit.” Javier huffed, his breathing evening out, despite his ire. “It’s been a hectic week.”

“Even the paper load has been doubled.” You pointed out, “Not that it's comparable.”

He rubbed your stomach reassuringly, “You do important work too, baby. Don’t put yourself down.”

“I miss being out in the field,” You sighed, letting your lips linger against his forehead as you spoke. “But I don’t see how I’d manage in this state.” You gestured to your stomach.

“Baby, you’re gorgeous.” Javier told you, pressing a kiss to your cheeks, his breath hot against your skin as he sighed sleepily. “I don’t think I say that nearly enough.” He murmured, his voice heavy as his hand slowed its strokes against your stomach. 

“You say it every day, Javi.” You reminded him with a soft laugh, winding your fingers through his hair. “Sleep.” 

“I am.” He murmured, growing still beside you. You could feel the way his body relaxed, slowly at first, but then more apparently as sleep took ahold of him. You weren’t that tired, but it was awfully nice just to lay there in his arms. 

You still couldn’t believe this was your life sometimes. How many nights had you spent wondering what it would be like to be with Javier? Of course, in those fantasies you weren’t heavily pregnant. You’d never really envisioned yourself pregnant before. 

The reality wasn’t terrible, just different. At least Javier was understanding. So understanding. The man would do anything you asked him to do, if it meant making your pregnancy a little bit easier. 

Of course, there were still things that he couldn’t do. He couldn’t comfort you during the day when your hormones got the best of you and everything upset you. He couldn’t be there every night — not when the DEA kept sending him on assignment every night. 

But you made it work. You lived for these moments. The ones just like this. 

Even if he slept the whole day, it would be a damned good day because you weren’t alone.