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fullsunalicia · 9 months ago

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gif made by @dojaejung ! all credits to @dojaejung !

roses (m.) | jeong jaehyun

“it’s killing me to know there’s someone else out there buying you / roses, roses” OR where jung jaehyun is pathetic enough to be yearning after his beautiful ex-girlfriend, whom he reconnects with after awkwardly crashing her date with a new potential lover.

jeong jaehyun x ex-girlfriend! reader

warnings: some allusions to stalking and online harassment, some make-outage, oral (fem. receiving), some exhibitionism ig?????, some cussing, jaehyun is EXTREMELY down bad (he who yearns is he who earns amirite yall), svt as side characters for my caratzen agenda, also i’m still an awkward writer (in my opinion) so that warrants its own warning

This is why Jaehyun despises leaving his apartment.

For the first time in weeks, Doyoung and Taeyong, in their combined nerdy best friends power, have managed to make him go outside again. Although it’s the middle of the winter, each day inching closer to Christmas day, the bustling city is filled with people enjoying themselves despite the sub-zero temperatures. It makes him sick, really. Not people in general, for sure, but the sight of couples swarming about, their happy faces making sure every single person’s envious gaze is following them until they disappear around the corner.

Winter is sickening. Winter makes people too cozy, too cuddly, too loving. When spring comes, that love melts away, fleeting as it was. It dims out like the warm fire you stoke in the evening as you gather with your loved ones, in the morning long gone and forgotten with the loss of the guests. Jaehyun hates it. His friends knows he hates it.

So did you.

As Doyoung and Taeyong keep him in their middle, holding on to his arm on each sides as if they were old aunts bickering away, he reminisces about your shared hatred of the cold. You had hated snow, most of all, he remembers as he watches the thick, cold flakes swirl around in the air. It leaves a mist on the people passing by him, painting them in the lovely shades of the cold. Rosy cheeks, white smiling teeth, blue fingertips. If he closes his eyes, he can almost imagine it’s you clinging to him again, complaining loudly about the weather, scared of falling to the ground. You had always been incredibly clumsy, and unashamedly loud. Every passerby could not help but smile at your antics, but none smiled wider than the man you had wrapped around your littlest finger; Jaehyun, who had always stared at you instead of ahead. Jaehyun, who in the end always made you guys fall because he wasn’t concentrating on walking, he was concentrating on you.

You, the single star in his solar system he was orbitting around. He had felt himself collapsing, folding around you, as if he could ingrain himself in your existence in the very same manner you had immortalized yourself in his soul. How pathetic you had left him.

“Hey, earth to Jae! You’re not seriously upset we made you leave the house, right?” Taeyong’s hand forces itself into Jaehyun’s periphery as he waves it infront of Jaehyun’s face, trying to gain the man’s attention. Every finger was perfectly manicured, the tell-tale rings that signified Taeyong snapping Jaehyun out of his daydreams. Mentioned friend looks worried, but not regretful. “We were beginning to think you had fallen asleep in there, like some bear. You shouldn’t hibernate.”

“But bears got it so right. It’s so much better to sleep the winter away.” Jaehyun sounds exhausted, almost childish. He knew he was a grown man, not a teenager mooning over his first love. But it certainly felt like he had become the former. That was your effect.

“Dude.” Doyoung grasps his shoulder then, boring his gaze into Jaehyun’s face. He had been dreading that, actually; it’s hard to act like a complaining child when Doyoung makes you face yourself just like that. Almost unconsciously, Jaehyun straightens up. It’s almost like facing your mother, and he’s trying to avoid Doyoung’s fussing. “It’s been almost a year. I hate to be the one to be saying this, but you have to let it go at some point, man.”

You have to let it go at some point. Doyoung’s right, of course, but Jaehyun hasn’t yet reached that point of being reasonable. It’s not like the five stages of grief. Jaehyun is in the awkward process of trying to understand what has actually happened to him; why your relationship came to an end, why you were so kind to him despite it all, how you had finally cut him off. No one really knows why you did it, least of all Jaehyun. As you had broke it off with him after dropping him off at the airport before he flew to the first stop of his current world tour, there wasn’t exactly time to ask questions.

You had given him a letter and apologized (seriously, so not cool to explain in a letter just so you didn’t need to face him), and just as soon as the flight touched down at his destination and his phone had regained connection to his cellular data, you had changed your number, deleted your socials and disappeared from his life.

(Not like he immediately found you again when you re-debuted on social media. Johnny, as a true best friend, has forced him to limit looking at your instagram account to once a week, but how will Johnny know if he does it more? No one needs to know. Jaehyun would lose face if even anyone knew how much he misses you.)

Jaehyun lowers his eyes then, unable to keep looking at Doyoung. “Let go. Yeah.”

Doyoung and Taeyong exchange a worried gaze at that, before nudging him to a new direction. Their footsteps leave soft white traces, disappearing as quickly as they are made as fresh snow falls. “I got just the thing to cheer you up,” Taeyong quips then, and when he smiles at Jaehyun in an attempt to comfort him, Jaehyun finds the strength to smile back. Those are his friends, after all. If he weren’t so detached from his emotions, he’d find himself moved by their sincerity; his silly friends that loved and cared for him despite his habits and his weird coping methods. They didn’t judge when he sent them new song lyrics he had written in the middle of the night because the memory of you is still haunting him, scaring him off sleep because the comfort he gains from dreaming of you is as addicting as chasing liquor. They had let him ruminate in his apartment for as long as possible. It was time to face the world properly now. “Hot cocoa and waffles?”

Jaehyun snorted. “Like children?”

“Like children,” Taeyoung announces, his voice too earnest for the statement. Doyoung laughs, and then it’s difficult to not join in. Taeyong grins, happy to have drawn that reaction out of them. For the moment, Jaehyun feels normal again, and he offers to buy the waffles as Doyoung and Taeyong line up to buy the hot cocoa.

That’s the same moment where Jaehyun immediately regrets having left the house.

The sight of you physically knocks the breath of his lungs. For just a second, just seeing your face erases the feeling of all the pain that had been wrenching at his heartstrings, your beauty so all-encompassing it stuns him into silence. The cold season has kissed your face in the most pretty way - as you throw your head back in laughter, your (incredibly tempting) lips curve into his favorite smile of yours, the smile that has to be stolen out of you, so surprised by something that you laugh involuntarily. Honest. And earnest.

And beautiful.

It’s almost beautiful enough to make him not acknowledge the other man that you are gifting it to.

Jaehyun forces himself not to look, the effort incredible. He does not want to see who you have replaced him with, he really doesn’t, truly not, but then the dizzy envy makes him look so that he can bombard the man with death threats in his mind. Not that it matters. He could have been anyone, anyone at all. What did it matter if that was someone he knew or someone unknown, when the most damning thing about the situation was that it wasn’t him?

When he looks back at you to keep analyzing whether you like this man a lot, Jaehyun has come to the startled realization that you have noticed him, aswell. Your face has dropped, the shock painted over your face like an ill-fitting mask. “Jaehyun?” you say, the sweet voice carried over to him in the wind, and his knees almost buckle. (Jesus Christ, he’s a grown man.) Your partner notices, looking up to see whom you’re addressing, and Jaehyun’s nonchalant reaction to the irrelevance of the man’s identity disappears instantaneously.

Fuck you, he thinks hard at the dude, as if the sheer mental strength of his thoughts could reach him, for actually looking gorgeous. Fucking hell.

“Jeong Jaehyun?” You call again, robbing him off the opportunity to maybe pretend he hadn’t heard you. He forces himself to move forward.

“You know each other?” the guy asks then, and Jaehyun thinks to himself, No, idiot, I am the stalker that’s been breaking into her apartment and leaving her letters. But then he remembers how Johnny has admonished him for doing the social media equivalent and how often he visits your socials just for a glance at you, and the thought almost immediately sobers him up. “Jeong Jaehyun,” he introduces himself then, reaching out his hand to shake the other man’s, even though he’d rather bite it off. “We were…”

“Acquaintances,” you interrupt him almost immediately. The smile you sport now is nervous, to the untrained eye flawless. But Jaehyun knows every inch of your soul, and the look in your eyes pleads him not to acknowledge it. “Jaehyun used to be really close to my brother. You’ve met my brother, right?”

“Oh, Seokmin, right?” The stranger’s eye glint in recognition. “That means you must be cool, man. Anyone who’s in Seokmin’s good cards is good in mine. My name’s Junseo.”

“Nice to meet you, Junseo,” he makes himself speak, although the words taste like coal in his mouth, turning ashy as he pronounces them. He’s never been a good liar, always careful about choosing his words, but then, he’s never been in the situation where had to meet the lover that was going to replace him in your heart. He turns to you, your lovely face ripping into him. You stare back as if you are aware of the effort it takes him to remain friendly. You don’t look like you enjoy inflicting this havoc upon him, but ever since that day, he doesn’t truly know what you are capable of. “It was nice to see you,” he tells you, turning away as soon as the words leave his lips.

He never hears your “Jae”, the sound ripped out of you like an old instinct.

jaehyun

could you maybe at least warn me that your sister is back in town

dk 😁

i didnt even know she was

can you let her know to bring milk to mom’s house we ran out this morning

jaehyun

. . .

no dk i cannot i almost collapsed when i saw her

can you say hello to your mom tho

Jaehyun drops the phone on the couch, the interaction having soured his mood just as much as the meeting with you. Seokmin was cool, and a really good friend, although a bit clueless. He had been firm in his support for Jaehyun, not picking sides, but not abandoning their friendship either, and had been one of the friends who had dragged him out for dinner once a week ever since the break-up to make sure Jaehyun was actually eating. Jaehyun doesn’t even think this happened to your dismay. You were way too nice, and even your fucking break-up letter had been kind, even though it hadn’t been enough to wipe the blank look in his eyes as he had read it.

“Okay, so that may have went worse than we thought,” Taeyong proclaims, the hot cocoa still steaming in his hand. Even though they had technically paid for the cup as a loan, taking it back home felt like stealing. Jaehyun couldn’t find it in himself to care. He was staring at the ceiling, looking at no one. “But hey, at least we found out who the mystery guy on her instagram was!”

Johnny, who had let himself into the apartment while they were gone, perked up at that. Very aware of your instagram due to Jaehyun’s influence, he knew that there had been an odd silhouette in your instagram story the past few weeks, almost a soft-launch and almost not. There had been theories whether the mystery guy had been a new lover. Jaehyun had almost thrown up when Mark had suggested the idea. “You did? She was with a man?”

“Yeah, Junseo what’s-his-name. Didn’t give a last name, though.” Doyoung sounds concentrated, probably too focussed on not breaking Jaehyun’s new coffee machine. “Jaehyun, coffee?”

“No,” Jaehyun deadpans. “I want death.”

The entire room groans at that. “Fresh out of death, dude,” Johnny tells him, bowing over the couch to throw a blanket over where Jaehyun was laying and Mark had fallen asleep. Johnny was his best friend in the entire world, and very used to Jaehyun’s antics. Throughout it all(the acclimatization to the celebrity life, the growing into a fully formed and actualized person in the public eye, the stabbing ache of heartbreak), Johnny had become a brother to him. It was Johnny’s hand pulling him along through life, his ears that were entrusted with every joy and worry in Jaehyun’s mind, his kindness that kept Jaehyun standing sometimes. “It’s coffee or nothing,” he continues after ensuring both men on the couch were covered with the blanket. And then, as he turns back to Doyoung: “Make him some coffee. He hasn’t touched his cocoa.”

The quiet bickering of his friends fade away then, forcing him to come to terms with what has happened. Seeing your face again felt like being struck down by God, to put it in blasphemous terms. You had always been the most beautiful person to him, including both his preference that came from loving you and his attraction to people in general. Jaehyun hadn’t been the kind of man to have an exact type before meeting you, but now he looks for you in every smile, every fluttering lash, in every face he meets. Looking for the traces of where your ancestors had painted their magic, the overarching connection between several generations, the hand reaching across time. Whoever crafted you had taken his time to ensure every single detail, and the love that had flowed into the shaping of you glinted across every feature. Having been starved of seeing you, this interaction had thrown him into cold water face first. Even the memory stung.

You hadn’t looked bothered to see him. If anything, you had been as sweet as always, even though you hadn’t expected to see him. He had thought being gone from your side had hurt, but seeing that Junseo was making him sick to the stomach. It was his job to make you laugh like that. It was his duty to ensure your happiness. To think of that fool doing it in his stead made him spark up with a fury that he had long forgotten, the feeling so unfamiliar it made him reach inside those spaces inside himself that he had abandoned for so long. During the separation every emotion had come to him so dull and muted - happiness, sadness, surprise, anger. But as if they had never left him, Jaehyun recognized that he was jealous.

Awfully jealous.

So that was the next step of Jaehyun’s alternative five stages of grief process. Instead of coming to terms with the ephemeral nature of his relationship with you, he’s pining over the one woman he cannot have. He raises his hands to cover his face, his fingers shaking - it’s crazy, how you unravel him. It’s been eight months and Jaehyun is still willing to go on his knees to beg just to make sure you stop seeing anyone else.

(At that point, he was very unaware of how near in the future that was going to happen.)

“Hey, dude.” Jaehyun is snapped out of his thoughts by the raspy voice of one Mark Lee. He lowers his hands to see Mark peaking his head out of the blanket, hair completely ruined from tossing and turning in his sleep, looking just like the lion that his friends affectionately nickname him as. Their friends are still bickering in the kitchen, arguing about how to handle the coffee machine properly, with Doyoung’s voice cutting through the others. “You alright over there?”

Jaehyun clears his voice. He suddenly feels glad that Mark doesn’t know yet that he’s seen you, as he doesn’t want to burden Mark with his worries. He’s only a little younger, but he’s the closest thing to a younger sibling Jaehyun has, and he treasures him to the point where he often wants to shield him from the shit that Jaehyun has going on. “Yeah, all good. Why did you wake up? Not sleepy anymore?”

“Your phone has been going off like crazy.” Mark points at the aforementioned phone before yawning. As Jaehyun reaches for the device, he sits up and looks into the kitchen from the vantage point he has of the kitchen. The screen lights up after a few quick taps, and Mark asks: “Something important? Sounds like someone’s spamming you.”

dk 😁

not to be the bearer of bad news but mom wants to have you over for dinner on saturday

😭 maybe i shouldnt have delivered your greetings bro

i think my sister has a date on that evening tho so maybe nothing will happen?????

i mean you can say no but you know damn well my mom loves you (because you kiss up to her) so

yeah

i get if you dont want to

Jaehyun blinks. Several times. Then, he drops his face into his hands again, sighing so loudly that even Mark seems astonished.

It seems like you’re not gonna leave his mind anytime soon.

The first time Jaehyun had met you, you had still been a junior in college.

He’s always known you existed, of course - the pretty-faced little sister that was off-limits to anyone, who had the most embarrassing haircut when she was still in middle school, who liked to receive flowers for her birthday instead of gifts. Seokmin doesn’t talk about you often, but when he does, there’s a gentle smile etched on his face that seems like the most jarring contrast to the way he bickers and fights with you in person. Jaehyun couldn’t conjure an image of you, but when he thought of your name, it filled Jaehyun’s mind with a sweet dream. He had been missing you in his heart before he had even met you, the soft tug of a red string around his littlest finger.

The request had been hastily asked and innocent in nature. Pick up my sister, please? An unusual request, as Seokmin never introduced his sister to anyone for your own privacy, but it didn’t bother Jaehyun to do it, especially since DK was a very good friend. You had been incredibly drunk, and uncomfortable at a party, and called for the person you trust most in the world. DK on the other hand, drunk out of his own mind at an entirely different party in his own dorm shared with his bandmates, had called a friend he knew he could entrust with the safety of his littlest sister.

Completely hammered and wobbling on your entirely too high heels, you had gladly clung to Jaehyun’s arm after realizing he had been the savior your brother had sent you. Your introduction came out loud and clear, and you had enunciated every syllable to make sure he heard it. When he correctly repeated the name back to you to ensure he remembered it, a dazzling smile had split across your lips in the cutest way possible. It had made his heart jump in a deliciously agonizing way.

“Can you walk?” he had asked you then, pointing down at your monstrous heels. He had truth be told been incredibly impressed with the way you had managed to leave the front porch of the party house, even though every step enunciated that you were incredibly intoxicated. You had waved off his worry and beamed at him with the innocent happiness only a drunk person could exude, completely free from all wordly burdens. “Don’t worry!” you told him, your voice as melodious as it was pleasing. “I’ve walked in worse heels! And I’m not even that drunk!”

Jaehyun had no intention of questioning you, but the exclamation did make him laugh. He had been awkward about the interaction the entire time he had driven here. Would you be able to even feel comfortable with him? What if you guys didn’t speak about anything? But your behavior had loosened up the tension inside his chest, and he found himself relaxing under your hold, gently guiding you back to his car. Your grip was tight, but not painful, and you had hooked your arm around his to keep close to him in a way that wasn’t entirely unwelcome to him. He had not expected to warm up to you so quickly. “So you’re able to hold your liquor? You must not actually be related to DK then. The guy can’t hold his liquor for shit.”

The joke tugged a surprised laugh out of you. It was a nice sound, the genuineness of it making a smile form around Jaehyun’s lips. So open, so friendly, so extroverted - so incredibly different from him, and yet a simple laugh from you made Jaehyun entranced with the existence of you. He wanted to relish the sound, making him wrap his fingers around the keys in his pockets to ensure they wouldn’t rattle when he pulled them out. “I’m sure he’s got that from mom,” you had explained to him while snickering, momentarily letting go from him as he opened the door for you. After clambering in and pulling the door shut, he had walked around the car to climb in himself. The door clicked shut. “I’m my father’s daughter through and through. We used to place bets at New Year’s parties with the family how much time it would take for mom to crash out after a single bottle of champagne.”

“And?” he asks. The engine of the car sprung to life with a simple press of a button, idling quietly while Jaehyun had put on his seatbelt. “Did you win the bet?”

Your expression in the rearview mirror was smug when Jaehyun checked his surroundings in it, pulling out of the parking space he had found near the house the party was in. “I was fifty bucks richer about half an hour later.”

Jaehyun couldn’t help but laugh - at your behavior, your teasing little remarks, the way you hiccuped before laughing because you were a little liar that couldn’t hold their liquor. By the time he had reached DK’s apartment building, where you had requested to be dropped off because you wanted to sleep over at your brother’s, your drunkenness had made you drowsy. Without even thinking about it, you had climbed over the console to envelop Jaehyun in a hug, shocking him to the core. Your floral perfume had been dizzying, but the near proximity of you had almost made him drunk himself. Jaehyun was an idol under the strict gaze of both his employer and his supporters. His resulting touch-starvation had made him grasp your soft waist with both hands, and he closed his eyes to soak in the warmth of your touch. It was startingly intimate. “Thank you for bringing me home,” you had murmured against his shoulder, momentarily resting your head on it, as if it belonged there - as if you had been made to be held by him. You lined up perfectly, like puzzle pieces, and for a moment, Jaehyun had felt complete in a way that made him question himself was my heart always hollow of you?

When you pulled back with your bright smile and your hazy eyes, a pink blush had dusted across Jaehyun’s cheeks that he prayed you hadn’t noticed. “You’re super duper nice,” you proclaimed then, not fully retracting from where you were leaning on his body. Not pushing his hands away, either. “And it’s way more fun to ride in your car than in Jeonghan’s. You drive like a responsible adult.”

“Are you saying Jeonghan doesn’t drive like a responsible adult?”

“I’m not sure he knows what that is.” Giggling, you untangled yourself from him, startling Jaehyun with the immediate ache for you. Get a grip, he thought to himself. Acting like a teenage virgin. “And I should know!” you enunciated. “The idiot tried teaching me how to drive. If DK hadn’t put an end to that, I would have never gotten my driver’s license.”

Jaehyun, still reeling from the affection you had graced him with, smiled shyly at that. “Well, I’m glad to have brought you home safe, like the responsible adult I am. Can you make it up on your own?”

You “mhm”ed loudly, noisily maneuvring yourself out of the car. Jaehyun winced quietly when the heels of your shoes clacked against the pavement harshly, almost sure one had broken. But you had straightened up with a grin, waving stupidly, shouting loud “thank-you”s and “get home safe!”s as he watched you walk into the apartment complex, running into your drunk brother and almost-brothers (as his bandmates liked to title themselves as, loving you like you were one of their own).

He had sat and waited for a long time for his erratic heart to slow down again. You were a miracle he hadn’t been waiting for, like a sudden blessing after a fervent prayer. He went to sleep thinking of your name, finally being able to connect it with a face, the yearning following him into his dreams.

It was that same yearning that woke him up in the middle of the night now, reaching for the empty bedside, remembering where you were.

Remembering that you weren’t reaching for him anymore, no matter how much you had loved him.

Jaehyun cleans up nicely, when he wants to. When he checks his reflection in the camera app one last time before ringing the door, he almost doesn’t recognize himself. Johnny’s girlfriend had helped him put on a little bit of make-up to cover the black shadows under his eyes and wished him luck, although he wasn’t sure what he needed the luck for. To see you? Not to see you? The question had been eating away at him on the way here, making his hands sweat to the point that the driver’s wheel had looked kind of disgusting afterwards. He can’t shake the cold fear that accompanies the thought of you these days. The desire to be in your presence was a knife turning in his guts, so sharp that even the pain seemed more welcome than another day without you. As he closes his eyes, he imagines you opening the door, welcoming him home, kissing all the exhaustion away. But when the door opens up after knocking at it, the sweet face of your mother receives him.

Not that the sight isn’t welcome. Jaehyun sees his mother often enough to not have to miss her, but the need for a motherly presence never truly leaves you, no matter how old you are. There is a part of him that will always be a child, reaching for his parents’ hands, knowing he will be safe there. Your mother fills that space often when his own cannot. “Jaehyunnie! I’m glad you made it, sweetling,” your mother gushes, hurrying to clasp his hands. The sight of her red, marred hands makes his heart hurt - has she been overworking herself? - but the pain is soon replaced with a gentle warmth spreading inside his chest at her motherly clucking. “Hurry inside, we made your favorite! You still like spicy pork, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He removes his shoes before stepping inside, feeling nostalgic. The first time he had met your parents, the house had been newly bought and hardly acquired, with your parents having haggled for an appropriate price for months. Over the years, the building had been renovated, filled with furniture, and changed as more and more memories had been made in this place. To see it now standing proudly and lived in made him happy, but also sad, as he wasn’t fully part of that experience anymore.

“Don’t be silly, boy! You know you call me mom here!”

“Yes, mom.”

“Mom,” rings out the complaining voice of Seokmin then. He’s standing at the foot of the stairs. His voice had been petulant, but there’s a very big grin on his face as Jaehyun approaches him in greeting, and they hug each other without hesitation. DK had seen him go through enough shit to not have to shy back from physical affection. “Don’t nag with Jaehyun before he’s properly inside. How’s it going, J? I heard your new album, it was awesome!”

Your mother nods enthusiastically. “You are hard-working as always, Jaehyunnie! The songs sound beautiful!”

Jaehyun laughs, bashful. He feels awkward and happy at once, to be complimented upon for his talents while simultaneously knowing that most of those songs had been written with you in mind. “Thank you for saying that,” he answers.

“It’s only right,” your mother tuts then. As she turns to walk back in the kitchen, she opens her mouth to say something again, but there’s another knock at the door, startling them all. The three exchange glances, both Seokmin and your mother seeming surprised by the noise. “Are you expecting someone, Seokminnie?” When DK shakes his head no in answer, she walks back to the door, humming to herself in confusion. “Maybe your father? But he’s not supposed to get off work until 8.”

Before your mother even opens the door, the dread of who could possibly be standing in front of that door tells Jaehyun what to expect. And as he turns over that assumption in that mind, the door opens to reveal you, clad in a red dress that hugs your curves and exposes your mid-thigh. “Oh, sweetie!” your mother exclaims. “But what are you doing here? Aren’t you going to dinner with that Junseo-ssi?”

You don’t answer, your eyes locked onto him. He recognizes the sight of slight panic and confusion in your eyes - apparently, DK hadn’t told you that you were visiting in the hopes that you wouldn’t see each other anyways. Although barely a second passes, it feels like eternity as you take each other in.

Fuck, you’re as beautiful as the day he lost you. He doesn’t even register that your mother is still chattering away as he drinks in the sight of you, the sinful silhouette and the angel eyes that have been accentuated by a skilled hand and your favorite eyeliner pen. The blood rushes in his veins, filling his ears with the sound of waves crashing, his desire lapping higher and higher until it makes his chest hurt. “Mom,” you manage to say. “He was called into work at the last minute. It’s pretty awkward to be the only one all dolled up here, so may I go up and change please? And not have to make awkward small talk in the salon?”

“Of course, sweetling, just go up! Seokmin will help me with the last preparations for dinner.” Your mother leaves at that, and the three adults remaining are crushed by the awkward tension in the room. Even more awkward for the third wheel in the room is that neither of both you and Jaehyun have looked away from each other ever since you walked in, and DK takes the chance to quietly slip out of the room to join his mother in the kitchen, leaving Jaehyun to his doom.

(Traitor.)

Jaehyun breathes out, struggling to fill his lungs with the air he needs. “You look stunning,” he says, his voice straining to pronounce the words. It’s pathetic how much he wants to press you against that wall and devour you. Even though his inner adult yells at him that he isn’t yours anymore, the thoughts do not stop coming. Truthfully, there can’t be any scientific explanation for how fast his heart races because of you, but it keeps on beating, jumping out of his chest. Falling to your feet.

You finally step out of the doorframe, into the house itself. The door quietly falls into the lock. You reach down to unclasp your high heels, the movement mechanic. You seem as dazed as he is. He entertains the possibility whether he has the same effect on you as you do on him, but he casts the thought aside immediately. You had left him, after all. “Thank you,” you answer, your voice meek. As if you were to strangers. “Are you … doing well?”

I hope that despite the way I’m ending things, you will be well. I pray that you are healthy, that you are eating enough, that you flourish in your career as you deserve to be. You are outstanding, Jeong Jaehyun, a flaming star lighting up the sky. I pray that you find it in yourself to forgive me.

“Well?” he echoes, as if that word was a joke. And then, almost in disbelief, he asks back, “Are you?”

You lower your gaze then. “I finish my master’s degree this year, so I’m a little stressed. But aside from that, I am fine, thank you for asking.” You straighten up, intending to walk past him. But Jaehyun, as if possessed, grabs your wrist; the touch makes both of you shudder, and you look up to see the absolute yearning in his eyes staring back at you. He doesn’t really know what made him do it, and he seems as shocked as you are; he had been thinking more quickly than he had been moving, and his muscles spasmed from the lack of communication between his nerves and his brain.

It’s written across his face, it must be. The intense wish to bow his head and lean against you, cage you against the railing of the stairs. To make you reach inside his soul and connect the broken pieces there that were the remaining shards of his heart. Jaehyun doesn’t want anyone else in the world to see inside him like that. He wants you, he wants to be your boyfriend. Despite it all. The good and the bad, the beautiful and the ugly. Are you well? Jaehyun’s hand slips lower, interlocking your fingers, the physical connection there setting fire to the skin. I pray that you are. “Take care of yourself,” he tells you instead of all the words that have been left unsaid ever since you abandoned him, all the tears that he has shed. He wants to tell you how his pride for your success makes him fly higher than any of his own achievements ever would, how soft his heart feels at the fact that you are so close to reaching your goals. How much he wishes to be a part of supporting you towards that. But he doesn’t.

You don’t break free of his hold, but it seems clear that you do not reciprocate the hurricane of emotions he is feeling right now. “You shouldn’t say that,” you tell him, tone polite, but your voice sounds hesitant. He wants to kiss the hesitation out of you, eat your laughter as he tugs at your lower lip. The proximity is driving him crazy. “I mean, I don’t wanna be rude. But I am seeing Junseo. You don’t have to worry about me, Jae. Jaehyun.” You cough awkwardly, as if that can erase the affectionate nickname, as if there isn’t something inside you still calling for him. You step backwards. If hitting the railing is embarrassing to you, you don’t let it show.

He lets go of you and steps back, then silently watches you go up the stairs. Your soft shuffling as you walk back to your room. The decisive shutting of a door.

Silently dreaming of what would happen if you graced him with your attention again.

The dinner itself is uneventful. You make polite conversation, thankfully sitting diagonally away from him, wedged in between your mother and your brother, whom Jaehyun sits across. But he sees the blush never truly leaving your face, and the way you throw glances at him when you think he isn’t paying attention. It makes him delusional enough to imagine that maybe, he wasn’t the only one still thinking about their ex.

Jaehyun glances down at his cleared plate, a half smile curling at his lips. Not truly a real smile. But not truly a lie, either.

@leey/n has started following you on Instagram!

@leey/n has liked a post!

The third time your paths cross, you truly think you are about to go crazy.

This is an art gallery, for crying out loud. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Jaehyun in a museum. Not that he’s uneducated or disinterested, mind you, but Jaehyun was the kind of guy to take you to places where you could etch your own memories across the place. The arcade in Busan where you won your first ever plushie and promptly gifted it to him, for one; the trip to Jeju where you had almost fainted and scared the shit out of Jaehyun; the high-end restaurant in Gangnam where you both can never let your face be seen again after having been thrown out for laughing too loud. You had spoken about the particular art gallery here once, debating about attending an event that was held in that month, but ultimately had the decision taken out of your hands after you unexpectedly had to go the hospital due to your appendix bursting. But here he was, looking like the most ravishing man alive in that stupid suit.

It should be forbidden to look that good. Genuinely. You think your heart stops momentarily when you see him, and then again when your gaze involuntarily drops to the exposed skin of his chest, displaying the vulnerable area due to the v-cut of his suit jacket. Hell. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was doing this on purpose.

You gather up the train of your dress and hurry over before anyone can recognize either him or you. He looks startled, and then that weird flash of desperation flits across his eyes before he hastily makes himself appear composed. You don’t for the life of you know why exactly his reaction to you is like that, but you suppose the time for complaining was over, since, you know, you broke up with him. You knew it had been a bitch move to write a letter, but you couldn’t exactly tell him the true reason to his face. Hey, I know this sounds stupid, but I’m afraid of ruining your career because netizens keep shit talking our relationship and tainting your reputation, have a nice day though!

No, he’d never understand. This was for the best. He’d been so close to completing his album, so proud of what he had achieved, and the grief of almost taking that away from him made you want to throw up. So you had decided to sacrifice yourself, in an as cowardly manner as possible.

No one would ever know that Jeong Jaehyun made your soul sing in the most exquisite way possible, and that your heart had been filled with so much joy that it almost burst. No one needed to know.

“What are you doing here?” You hiss at him. You turn your head to ensure that no one is actually looking, before tugging him to the side. Almost unconsciously, you take his hand and guide him to a different spot, a quiet corner where only strangers were staring at the art being displayed. Even the music was muted.

“Is this not a public event?” he hisses back, confused by your behavior. But he lets you do as you please, even lowering his head to yours to make sure no one hears. His fingers gently tangle with yours, swiping across your knuckles as he always does - did. It’s like your love runs deeper than human behavior, deeply embedded in your body’s instincts. You see it in the way the caution you display reflects back in his eyes, as if your secrets are still holier to him than his own. Even though he has no idea why you’re being so ominous. It’s one of the qualities you love most about Jaehyun; he never once tries to tell you what to do, always acquiescing your needs, letting you take the lead when necessary. It makes a traitorous happiness bloom inside your chest that he is still the kind of person who would always have your back. “Why exactly wouldn’t I be here? If it’s because you didn’t want to see my face, don’t tell me that. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“Jeong Jaehyun,” you groan, exasperated as you are. You hastily scan the area, always dreading that Junseo is about to turn the corner to catch you both. It had already been a surprise that evening had been made possible, since Junseo was a workaholic. Your friends joked around that he loves his residency at Seoul General Hospital first, and you second. You did not want to squander this opportunity of growing closer to him, a whim based on the fact that he was a pretty face and you desperately needed to move on. You weren’t serious, and you could count the amount of dates you had been on on one hand, but it worked its magic enough. Jaehyun only needed to believe that you were moving on. And Junseo only needed to believe Jaehyun was unimportant. Not like it’s forbidden to speak with an “acquaintance”, even if he did see you both here - but Jeong Jaehyun wasn’t an acquaintance, he was your ex-boyfriend for crying out loud, and if it weren’t for the necessary masquerade to appear as if you were moving on, you wouldn’t even be entertaining Junseo’s presence, no matter how charming he was. It was a stupid plan, concocted by an even more stupid Jeonghan. “Who would’t want to see your face? That’s not what I mean.”

The compliment slips out before you can hold it back. It’s so easy, so habitual to make it, to admire Jeong Jaehyun’s existence. You had never even met a man like him. He was sin made flesh, with his well-formed, strong body, the gorgeous face, the sun-kissed hair that switched colors from comeback to comeback. Jaehyun looks surprised to hear it. The dimples in his cheeks signal the smile that stretches across his lips, sweet and genuine and startled. It makes you sad, that he doesn’t expect those compliments; he is the kindest, sincerest, most attentive man you know.

(And if you were still in a relationship, you would have torn the clothes off of him and jumped him for looking that good in a suit. Not want to see his face my ass - you could stare at Jeong Jaehyun all day.)

“I thought we weren’t supposed to say stuff like that,” he says back, his voice low. It sounds deliciously rough, the way it sometimes sounded when you woke him from his sleep to kiss him, the sleepy yawns turning into soft moans when you rode him, his hands mapping out the space of your skin. You shake your head, as if you can shake off the memory. Your adoration for him went bone-deep. “Whatever,” you say hastily, as if that can erase the obvious pining you are displaying. “I mean, I don’t want Junseo to see us. I know you don’t like to lie, and I’m sorry for introducing you as an acquaintance, but I’d like it to remain that way. For him to believe there was nothing between us, I mean.”

“And is there?” Jaehyun’s voice sounds steady. It kills you to see the hope in his eyes, even now, even after you’ve hurt him after flaunting a new relationship. You remember his beautiful face on that day at the Christmas market, where the agony in his eyes had almost made you weep. You never ever wanted to be responsible for Jaehyun’s grief, not even now. “Nothing between us?”

You falter then, forgetting what you want to say. You can’t tell him the truth, you cannot - the truth being that when you look into Jaehyun’s eyes, your knees go weak and your hands yearn to claw at him and your kisses want to devour him whole, bones and all. You want to crawl inside him and live there forever, like the insane lover you are. You want to kiss him until you forget your own name, until the mornings become routine where you wake up next to him, where the sight of his beautiful face becomes the first thing you see after waking up for the rest of your life. The wish is so fervent it catches you off-guard, and it weakens your resolve. “There’s nothing, Jaehyun,” you say. Even you can hear the uncertainty. The atmosphere is so tense that you didn’t even notice the room has cleared out; the area is curtained off, a special exhibition inside the actual exhibition, for a yet-to-be-discovered artist who gained the space to present their art through chance. The few people who had mingled here had quietly left, identifying the situation as a lover’s spat. Anyone could walk in. Anyone. The realization makes your heart skip a beat. “You understand that, don’t you?”

Your words make sense, yet your actions don’t. You unconsciously inch closer to him. You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t, you shouldn’t. “You’re confusing me,” Jaehyun responds, sounding frustrated, but when his hands find your waist, his touch is careful. Gentle. Like a collector in awe of the precious rare item he has found. “I thought you hated my guts. You know, that’s the kind of interpretation a break-up letter entails.”

“Jaehyun,” you whisper. You want to rip his hands off, leave him here to come to terms with the realization that this relationship is over. It had been such a difficult situation, and so painful; to rip the band-aid off in the manner that you did. You hadn’t even told Jeonghan about the reason you broke it off, so afraid of the consequences, yet more afraid of the repercussions of your relationship to Jaehyun’s career. You needed to tell him off now, before you do something you would regret. You do none of these things, however. You let Jeong Jaehyun cradle your face in the middle of the gallery as if nothing has changed and the two of you are eternal and you have never been apart. Something inside of you reaches for his soul, across the gaping abyss that forced mythological Orpheus and Eurydice apart. You let him bring your face close enough that he can press his cheek against yours, mimicking Gustav Klimt’s The Kiss hanging in the hall outside. A sweet irony. It had always been your favorite painting, and you know there was a copy of it hanging in Jaehyun’s living room, bought by you for an anniversary long past. His lips trace the lines of your cheekbones, feeding the selfish ache inside you that is always desperate for Jaehyun. “It doesn’t matter. I’m with a different man.”

The answer makes Jaehyun draw in a sharp breath, but his ministrations continue on; as if his love for you was an instinct he was chasing after unconsciously. His lips trail a burning path across your face, his fingers curling at your nape. Lulling you in. Entrancing you. “At the risk of sounding like an asshole - I don’t care,” he murmurs against your skin, the words reverberating in your blood. “I would give anything for being able to touch you like this. Even if this is the last time.”

You screw your eyes shut. Even if this is the last time. Almost mechanically, you raise your arms to draw him against you, your bodies lining up perfectly; you had always secretly enjoyed how well you guys fit together. A perfect match. When you had dropped him off at that airport, you had been robbed of truly saying goodbye to him. Coming home late, almost oversleeping and missing his flight, riding in separate cars because the staff had piled into the seats of which at least one should have been reserved for you. You couldn’t even kiss him goodbye - you had let go of Jaehyun with a heavy heart, a mind full of anxieties turning over all the threats you had received not only digitally, but now even physically, and with a mouth full of lies. This is the last time. You look up at the same time as Jaehyun decides to throw all caution against the wind, bowing his head to inch closer. “Let me kiss you, please,” he whispers, the desperation in his voice so heady it makes you feel drunk. “May I kiss you?”

You draw in a sharp, shuddering breath, and murmur your assent. As if this had been a decision and not a stabbing, sharp need below your chest. “Yes. Yes, Jaehyun.”

Your lips meet his halfway, although meet is the wrong words. It’s a crash and burn, two stars folding around one another and exploding in a supernova; there is nothing human about the way Jaehyun hungrily devours the surprised gasp you let out. His kiss is all fire and blood and teeth, the messy clacking of two people who had been made to love each other once and then cut apart by fate. Your hastily sucked in breaths keep getting interrupted every time Jaehyun kisses you again, and again, and again. It’s a sweet torture, and a productive one. By the time he has dragged you against a wall you are lightheaded and out of it, your skin prickling with the feeling of Jaehyun mapping out his way. “Oh sweetheart,” he sighs out against your collarbone, his teeth painting markings across your chest. You barely even register him falling to his knees. “I could die tomorrow and be a happy man.”

“What are you doing?” You ask him, dazed. Your hands find his shoulders (has he become even broader? You seriously need to have a talk with Johnny and the gym routine he forces Jaehyun through). Despite your confusion, your body remembers Jaehyun. You barely even think about following his guidance, complying almost immediately when he taps against your waist so that you raise your leg and angle it over his shoulder. The belated realization makes you blush heavily; your addled mind cannot keep up with your body’s compliance. “Jeong Jaehyun! Are you insane?”

You intended to sound fierce and reprimanding, but when you finally look down to meet his gaze, your knees almost buckle. Jaehyun looks like a man starved, his eyes heavy-lidded with desire, the irises blown wide to ensure every detail of you is burned into his recollection. He looks like a worshipper, and his hands move across the supple flesh of your thighs as if in prayer. Blasphemous and heavenly. And incredibly dangerous. You can still hear the loud chatter of the other guests behind the curtain, just across the room. The nervousness makes your veins thrum. “Baby,” he says, sounding genuinely disbelieving. “Do you honestly think I won’t use this chance to taste you one last time? I don’t know what made you tolerate me suddenly, but I am not going to be the idiot that ruins the opportunity. You’ll let me go down on you, won’t you, sweetheart?”

The term of endearment makes you all fuzzy-minded and giddy. “I … yes … But anyone could walk in…” you nervously start, and yet you angle your hips forward so that Jaehyun can tug down your black lace panties, barely noticing that he tucks them inside his suit pockets. “And we’re not supposed to … I mean, I shouldn’t …. Jesus, Jae!”

In the middle of your feeble attempt of climbing back to the moral highground, Jaehyun had positioned himself right at your core; your hands fumble to hold on to his shoulders before he kisses your vulva way too innocently for a man who’s currently going down on you in the middle of a public art gallery. You barely remember to lean back against the wall for support before Jaehyun dives in like you are the last meal he is ever permitted to have on this earth, and he is determined to make it last.

You bite back a cry when Jaehyun finally laps at you, the torturous kitten lick lighting your entire body aflame with want. Although Jaehyun immediately follows it up by generously sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves, you cast aside all pretense of decorum due to your greed and dig your fingers in his hair to direct him closer, much closer, and Jaehyun moans. The sound is so delicious it makes your veins burn with desire, the physical pain of craving him running almost hotter than your need to be pleasured. Keyword almost. You wanted to come all over his mouth just for that delicious fucking noise, but your stomach was tensing up, the quick arousal accomplished by the serious lack of sex and masturbation that the past few months had been for you. Jaehyun’s hands claw at your knees, climbing to your thighs, forcing your legs wide open to welcome his fingers where he drags them across your all-too-welcoming entrance. “So wet,” he groans against your core, and you whimper at the vibration, bucking against his lips. Even though he loves to run his mouth during sex, he gets it to work anyways. Jaehyun laps up your sweetness as it drips down, his thumb flicking at your sensitive spots until he has you keening and tearing at his hair. “God, sweetheart, look at what a mess you’re making. You’re fucking gorgeous.”

“Jaehyun,” you gasp when he finally dives his tongue into you, the muscle pumping in mock-fashion of what he would love to do to you. The compliments are doing insane things to you and your heart, your poor heart that is going to cling to this moment forever. While Jaehyun’s fingers work their magic, your own begin to spasm, pulling and tearing at him. Submitting to you and your feral hunger he finally adds a finger, his right hand busy with fingering you while his left hands continues to trace circles over your clitoris. The sudden penetration has you remembering that his own digits are way longer than yours, the memory accompanying the sensation of him reaching further and further until he finds the right spot that has you bowing over him with a loud moan. This is what you missed, what you were imagining when you were daydreaming about sex, daydreaming about the godly way Jaehyun pounded you into the mattress. He knows he’s got you now, speeding up his ministrations at every noise you make. You screw your eyes shut with a bone-deep shudder, the sweet tension inside your abdomen pulling tighter and tighter in a familiar tell-tale sign. “Jaehyun, slow down, fuck!”

He’s curling his fingers, eager for your approval, hungry for more noises - through your blurry eyes, you realize he’s watching you through it all, the gaze of a predator. Not once does he look away, continuing his sweet song of praise. “So beautiful,” he coos against your pussy, pressing close so he can speak the words into your skin, your soul. In your state, it almost sounds like Jaehyun is the only thing in your world, and hasn’t it always been? The miracle in your life that you surrendered all your worship to? You lurch forward when he sucks your clit into his mouth, seeing white for a second, the stimulation becoming too much. “Keep looking at me, please. Wanna watch you when you come.”

“I…. can’t!” you manage to babble, realizing you are edging closer to your climax. You’ve never once been this quick, not with anyone but with Jaehyun; the only man in your life that knew every inch of you, the very shape of your soul. Your body is as familiar to him as the back of your hand; more familiar to him than his own self. Jaehyun is too impatient to deal with your arguments, though. “You can,” he hisses against you, dragging his fingers more fervently. Your warm walls tighten around them, hungrily trying to keep them in, to keep going. The sudden clenching around his fingers makes it difficult. “Look at me and cum or you won’t get to cum at all, I swear it.”

That’s all it takes for you to finally let go, almost weeping with the overwhelming pleasure. Your orgasm washes over you almost too violently, forced on by Jaehyun’s overstimulation as he keeps going and going and going, and by the time you push him off your sensitive pussy there are tears falling from your eyes. But you drag him close and kiss him, kiss him so hard you think he’s going to bruise, and Jaehyun lets you; it is much sweeter and patient than the beginning of the altercation, so sweet on your tongue it has you melting against Jaehyun. This is it, that adrenaline you kept chasing; true, painful, but worth it love. You feel too sensitive and too aware and too alight, but you wrap your arms around him all the same, as if you can keep him forever. Your kisses reach inside of him, desperate for connection, heavy with the longing that had accompanied you everywhere ever since you left him. You think you were born to love Jeong Jaehyun, and you kiss him as if you are Eve reaching for the forbidden apple - knowing it’s wrong, wanting it anyway. You want and you want and you want. Your hands are on his soft cheeks, dragging against his shoulders, careless, loving. You love Jeong Jaehyun, love him so much that your very existence is exploding from the inherent triumph that accompanied witnessing him.

You think you would gladly go to hell for tasting divinity on Jaehyun’s lips. You’d rather be a sinner than apart from him for being a saint.

When you finally tear away from him, Jaehyun’s lips are swollen(your heart almost fails at the sheer pleasure that sight gives you). He lets you drag your thumb across the kiss-stained lip, wiping away the lipstick, tracing his jawline. “Such a beautiful face,” you tell him, watching as he preens from the affection. Your heart to yearns to give him more, but you finally force yourself to step away before you die from the overdosis that is Jaehyun. He watches you, completely out of it. “This is the last time,” you remind him. The lie comes so easily now, even though you are trying to memorize his gorgeous face, tattooing it across your mind palace. You will never forget this, no matter what illness or loss comes for you. Not Jeong Jaehyun. “The last time, okay, Jae?”

You place your hand over his heart, and he places his own above it. For a moment, the situation feels eternal. You were in love and you were both idiots, but it was okay because you were handling it together. Because you would face all the challenges together. Because you would work towards a future together. But the spell is broken soon, and you make the first step back, biting your lip at the sadness resurfacing in his eyes. Jaehyun, you think. The only man you’ve ever entrusted your heart with like this.

“Okay,” he finally answers, helpless. He holds on to your hand, though, making the last few steps to follow you before he is forced to let you go. You turn back at the last second before you enter the main hall, just to see if he is looking away, but there he stands, watching you.

His face is forlorn, softened by his quiet sadness, and your heart breaks again. You leave him there before you can do something else you regret.

When Jaehyun had fallen in love you, he knew he was in for some deep shit.

Picking you up had become a natural habit now. You had long since stopped calling your brother and instead resorted to texting Jaehyun first. It felt like an honor, to be entrusted with your care. That you’ve started to know him in a way that makes you rely on him. Picking you up had led to late-night-drives to sober you up, late-night-drives had turned into a shared breakfast the next morning when Jaehyun was worried about you having hangovers, and fussing over you had turn into regular meet-ups because Jaehyun could no longer deny that what he craved was not reassurance of your well-being, but you in person.

He remembered one morning where he had slept over after a particularly nasty crash-out. You had been laughing and weeping incoherently, your friend Karina aiding him with the information that you had failed your exam and drowned yourself in booze. He had texted DK a “FYI, your sister’s puking her guts out in my apartment” after deciding his home was closer than yours and you wouldn’t last long enough to throw up in your own toilet, before he had sat there with you and braided your hair back while you emptied out your entire stomach. The next morning, when he had woken up to you cuddled up to him still on the bathroom floor, he had carried you to his bed, tucked you in and walked into the kitchen to cook hangover soup, something he had mastered by this point due to the amount of times Mark had familiarized himself with that toilet just like you did last night. Having checked his phone, he read your brother’s only response: “LOL. didn’t even realize she left party”

You had wandered in shortly after, sleepy and pale like a ghost. The sound of your footsteps had startled Jaehyun, but his surprise had turned into a sudden happiness at the sight of your eyes lighting up when you saw him. The realization that his presence made you as happy as yours made him was invaluable. He loved the kind of person he was when you guys were together; existing felt like floating, a light cloud of pure contentment.

Even though there hadn’t been a lot of talking, you had both been deeply comfortable. That was the very first time he had kissed you; when you couldn’t stop singing his praises after claiming his soup was too tasty, he had simply leant over and shut you up himself. It was almost funny at how quickly you had dropped that spoon, tugging at his pyjama shirt to pull him closer, damn right pulling him over the counter. Not that he was complaining. He loved the way you made him feel, the way your touch made it feel like there were stars blooming below his skin. It made him feel like the brightest sun in the sky. “Why did you do that?” you had immediately asked when he finally pulled back. Jaehyun had cradled your face, realizing he was holding his entire world in the palm of his hand. “I just suddenly understood that I want to hold your hair back for you for the rest of my life,” he had admitted then, earning himself a slap to the shoulder. But you had laughed, that pure boisterous laugh that sparked with joy, and his heart had pounded in his chest: unable to handle the luck he was experiencing.

The mornings had blurred into days, the days into weeks, finally bleeding into the most happiest months of Jaehyun’s life. He’d never been cautious, but you had certainly made him braver. Sudden shenanigans in public, joking around entirely too loud during important events, having fun everywhere you guys were together. You had made him believe there were no honeymoon phases. Jaehyun woke and rose in the morning, and went to sleep in the dawn obsessed with you. There were rough patches, stressful and grieving periods when your private lives had been rocked particularly hard with a certain event, but he never once stopped adoring you. You were in every waking breath, every racing heartbeat.

Even now, as he wakes the day after your goodbye in the art gallery, he wakes up with the taste of hope in his mouth, of the shape of your heart on the tip of his tongue. He wakes still dreaming, always dreaming of you.

“So what you’re saying,” states Johnny, twirling a biscuit around in his coffee, “is that you had sex with your ex-girlfriend in a public museum, fully knowing she’s dating someone else.”

“Johnny,” comes the muffled response from where Jaehyun hides his face in his hands. It’s too beautiful of a day. It should be raining, to reflect Jaehyun’s mood, to encompass this entirely too awkward feeling of knowing Jaehyun was still in love with his ex. He had spent the entire morning racking his brain for ideas to get rid of the other man, feeling like Lana del Rey in her worst situationships. Jaehyun has reached a very new low, the kind of pathetic that makes him not care that he’s embarrassing himself by still being at your beck-and-call. “It wasn’t sex.”

Johnny waves the retort away. “Oral sex, then. Still sex.” The comment is too loud and earns Johnny some weirded-out looks, but the man looks completely unbothered. He had once watched Johnny talk about different sex positions completely seriously while standing in line for gelato in Little Italy, back when they had visited New York together. Johnny Suh did not know what shame was. “I never even knew you were freaky like that. Little exhibitionist freak. Maybe I underestimated you.”

“Johnny,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “Is this the time to be making jokes? Can we get to the point?”

“What point, dude? You basically went on your knees and asked her to take you back, and she didn’t. I didn’t realize you wanted me to throw salt into the wound.”

Jaehyun lowers his head to the tabletop, resting his too warm face against the metal surface. He doesn’t dare close his eyes, because the image of you is burned into his eyelids. He feels like an addict itching for a quick fix. It had been like this the entire week now. It was one thing to be ghosted by you and forced to move on by the lack of interaction, and another to be making out with you and getting his hopes up despite the fact you told him this was the last time. All it did was make him delusional enough to think he could convince you for it not to be. “She didn’t say no,” he tells Johnny, sounding pitiable even to him. “She just told me this had to be the last time.”

A few seconds pass before Jaehyun finally raises his head due to the lack of answer from his best friend. The look Johnny gives him tells him is answer enough, and Jaehyun pulls a grimace. He hadn’t expected of Johnny to be feeding into his delusions, but there had been some hope. Hope for you to call. Hope for you to come back. Hope for you to still want him.

You hadn’t unfollowed him yet; you hadn’t posted in days; and your brother has kindly snitched to him that you’ve even been blowing off Junseo. He knows you have finals coming up soon, but thinking rationally was something Jaehyun severely lacked at the moment. He had been entertaining the idea that the … meeting, for a lack of better words, in the museum had shaken you up as much as it did him. He kept replaying the memory in his head, the way your plush thighs had trapped him there on his knees, your pretty lips jutted in a pout, the tears falling from your eyes from the way he was making you feel so good … he almost felt himself get hard again, but quickly killed the boner by thinking of something else. “I just wish she’d be more clear,” he sighs out. At the sight of Johnny raising his eyebrows, he clarifies: “I mean that she’s playing hot and cold with me. I’m not stupid enough to not realize she does want to put an end to this. And yet she’s the one that followed me on Instagram, and kissed me, and made me fall all over again for her. I wasn’t doing well before I saw her again, but I was going somewhere.”

“Somewhere,” Johnny repeats, his tone mocking, but then he sets down the biscuit that had come with his coffee. This is what Jaehyun liked about him the most. He considered everything and thought about everything carefully before giving his honest opinion, and even though he sure as hell wasn’t unbiased, he still tried his best to be. “I guess,” Johnny concurs then. “I guess that’s true. I just think there must be a reason to this. I haven’t known her half as long as you do, but we were friends once, and she never once acted as irrationally as she did this past year.”

Jaehyun perked up at that. It was true, at least. In the weeks leading up to your break-up, as well as the months afterwards, you had been acting incredibly off, to the point that even your close ones had been questioning your case. He hadn’t realized how keen Johnny’s observations could be. “So you think she’s going through something that she couldn’t tell me?” he asks, his voice tentative.

Johnny shrugs. “That sounds like the most logical explanation to me. So you either hook up with her again and question her while you’re at it, or you start looking up ways to get rid of Junseo, I guess.” The suggestion makes Johnny’s face light up with excitement. “Dude, I actually always wanted to hire an assassin on the dark web. Do you think we can do that?”

“No, you idiot,” Jaehyun hisses back. But the gears in his head are already turning, chipping away at the past year, at your secret glances and your guilty letter and the sadness in your eyes when you had let him go. He had always thought that even though you had been decisive, you had at least been sad for not being able to love him in the way he deserved to be loved anymore. now he wonders how selfish he has been, and whether he should have been texting his ex all along instead of grieving what was.

Well. Jaehyun thought it couldn’t hurt to try.

Jeonghan sees him before you do.

It’s the way your best friend immediately starts cackling and turns back around to walk back into the library. You halt in your movements, looking at him imploringly. “Your ex, dude,” he tells you, visibly enjoying the way you immediately enter full-panic-mode. “You’re on your own.”

Your panicked “Hannie!” is drowned out by his snickers, and Jeonghan leaves you to your distress to pretend going to the bathroom. You met Jeonghan years ago, and even though he was older than you, you had become such fast friends that DK threatened to beat you guys up for laughing too loud whenever you were over at their dorms. He was your stupid older unnecessary brother that loved you more than anything, but he is also the most brutally honest one out of all of your friends. You do not go to Jeonghan for advice if you aren’t able to handle the truth. He cuts to the chase real quick and will call you out on your bullshit.

It’s also why he immediately told you that your plan wasn’t going to work out. “Let’s not pretend this is the most lovey-dovey you’ve ever been in your life,” Jeonghan had told you with a straight face. You wince at the memory; Jeonghan’s words are able to tear down buildings. “You love-love that man. You’re in deep, deep shit. Whatever it is you don’t want to tell me about, the thing that made you think up this idiotic plan in the first place, it won’t be able to amount to the feelings you have for him.”

Yes, you love-love him; you know just as much, and your heart sings with that knowledge. It pinches and tingles beneath your ribs, calling out a certain name. It rejoices at the sight of Jaehyun out there, in the rain, wearing not even a jacket but instead jeans and a hoodie that looks large even on him, and a bouquet in his hands. But you love him enough not to want to be selfish enough to endanger him.

The messages had blown up your instant message box for weeks then, each threat becoming more explicit. At first, you had resorted to deleting them. They were all the same at their core, anyways, the same hatred being spewed with different names. But then one persistent account had started attaching pictures to their messages, waking you up from the rose-tinted dream that was being in love with Jaehyun. Pictures of him at private events, including the other band members as well, even the youngest ones who were innocent. You hadn’t responded, but the fear had you making hasty plans; setting up everything carefully, writing the letter, while you prepared to leave Jaehyun in the most respectful way you could imagine because that is what you owed him. But then pictures of his own rented studio inside SM building had started popping up, a room you knew no one but Jaehyun and his aides should have access to, one single message with one ominous threat: Leave him or I’ll ruin the both of you. His life’s work being killed will be your fault.

Your lack of answer surely had made them furious.

You didn’t know whether to approach the managers, or even the police. Stalkers weren’t unheard of in the industry, one being caught and sued almost weekly by now, and Jaehyun had cycled through his fair share of them. No one had ever went for you in that way, though. You were certain that this wasn’t a singular threat, certain that this was someone who would pull out all stops to get rid of you. SM Entertainment was more tightly under lock and key than a literal jail. This person knew what they were doing. And so you did what you thought was right, at the cost of your own wellbeing. How much you had sacrificed and cried after distancing yourself from the man you considered your heart.

And yet here he was.

You shake the umbrella open before stepping out of the library, into the rain. In three quick strides, you’ve reached him. You try to convince yourself you’re just eager to be rid of him, but the corners of your lips quirk up way too happily for your brain to believe that. “Is this your equivalent of a boombox outside my window?” you question.

Jaehyun smiles, and it untangles the heavy knot of dread inside of you. The weather is awful, but you feel warm, spreading inside your chest like the soothing effects of medicine. “It kind of is,” he answers. He sounds like he is carefully weighing his words, but his voice is gentle. “I didn’t know which one your window was. And entering the building to go visit you in your apartment seemed creepy to even me.”

You tentatively reach out, brushing your fingers over the roses. They’re a deep red, plush and freshly bloomed. Expensive. Junseo has never even got you a three-dollar-bundle of flowers from the grocery store. “You know, I already have someone who’s giving me flowers,” you tell him, but the threat is empty. Every inch of you is bursting with happiness. Jaehyun is here, even though it’s the middle of the night and the weather is completely awful, just to give you roses.

(You never even make the connection someone must have told him you’re here. (DK was shitting himself for days in fear of you finding out he was the tattletale.)

Jaehyun hands you the bouquet, his hands covering your own as you grasp it. You watch him as he takes the opportunity to step closer to you, never once reprimanding him. His face is open and trusting, and the force of his loving gaze hits you right in the chest. “I know,” he retorts. “And the thought is killing me. It should be me. And so I will. I will keep buying you roses until you ask me to stop, sweetheart, because I don’t mind if you forget about me, but I was made to adore you. I can’t ignore my instincts.”

The confession does funny things to your heart, in a way that makes you beam at him for the first time in months. You haven’t smiled like this in so long, and your cheeks hurt from the lack of practise. Jaehyun, the damn fool; Jaehyun, the hopeless romantic; Jaehyun, the love of your life. “Killing you,” you muse, entertaining him. You are playing with fire, you realize, but you are coming to the understanding that even though you had made a decision for him in a completely unfair manner, because you felt threatened to do so, Jaehyun still chooses you. And he continues to choose you. He has respected your wishes, has kept his distance despite the grief you have caused him, and has only re-entered your life because you allowed him to do so. It was your own self-doubt about being the one for him that had forced your hand and made you not ask him for help about the threats; and despite the fact Jaehyun never understood why, he had still reassured you.

“Do you honestly mean that?” you ask him, even though you know what his answer will be. Even though your heart has always chosen him, this sweet boy who knew just what to say to cheer you up. Who listened when you talked. Who bought you gifts just because you mentioned liking some trinket in passing. Who remembers to kiss you every morning before you leave the house, even if it means dragging himself out of bed at 5am in the morning just to see you off because he knows he won’t see you the entire day. Who leaves little notes around the house for you to find when he is too busy to be with you. Jaehyun, your Jaehyun.

“I will always, always mean it,” he answers in the most earnest way possible. “I’ve been thinking about you all this time. I know how pathetic this sounds, but all this time, I kept envisioning you, and the thought of you kept me going even though I knew you weren’t a part of my life anymore. I like the person you made me become, sweetheart, and the way you have helped me shape my life into something I can be proud of. I just wish I had realized sooner that there was something bothering you - because there is, right?” His fingers gently squeeze yours in encouragement, and your little nod makes him press on. “I’m sorry,” he says, and surprises you. “I’m sorry for being so in love with your good and pure heart and failing to realize that it burdened you, despite how good and pure it was. You were going through something that you couldn’t handle, and I couldn’t see it, and I’m sorry.”

You tug at Jaehyun’s hands. His instantaneous, responding smile makes your heart skip a beat, and he lets you pull him down until you can press your lips to his soft, dimpled cheek. “You’re such a sore loser, Jeong Jaehyun,” you whisper then, but you loosen a hand from the bouquet and place it against his cheek to keep him there. To treasure him. “And such a sweet little idiot. You don’t have to apologize about a single thing to me.” He smells like home, like the only home you’ve ever known. Jaehyun hums, and nods in assent to the insults, and the agreement makes you laugh. You kiss his cheek again, and again, and again, until Jaehyun’s impatience makes him turn his head and kiss you so urgently that your head feels like it’s spinning. “Jaehyun,” you sigh into the kiss, feeling his teeth nip at your lower lip, feeling his hands close around your heart.

You have never felt so safe.

Jaehyun rests his forehead against yours, the pouring rain cascading around you both. “Does that mean I can kill your little boy toy now?” he asks, but you only smack him and smile shyly, your face radiant with adoration for him. “I am going to resolve some things first,” you tell him. “Until then, no murder.”

“And after that?”

“After that,” you say, “I am going to prove that my heart has always belonged to you, Jeong Jaehyun. Even when I made you doubt that.”

(For your information, Jeonghan has recorded that entire interaction and forwarded it to Johnny without context. Johnny had texted him back almost seconds later, asking, Who’s this and how’d you get my number? Hannie’s response, as you discover after he had confessed his betrayal, was I have my ways.)

Jaehyun,

I realize me writing another letter is cruel and ironic, but hear me out, please.

When I wrote my first letter, it was with the selfish intention of at least something of mine remaining with you. By the time you read this, I’ll hopefully have gathered enough evidence to explain my case to you and maybe have the guts to ask you to accompany me to the police, but what I first want to reiterate is: I love you. I love you the point of self-sacrifice. I love you enough that I turned my back on being selfless anyways and selfishly chose you, because you are the most important person in my heart. You will always come first.

When I wrote that letter to break up with you, I imagined a piece of myself embedding itself in the ink so that at least something could remain forever. In my mind, you were never ephemeral: no matter how many times I changed my paths and adjusted my future, it has always included you. I never once imagined building a life for myself that didn’t have you as its brilliant, shining center piece, the light of my life, my Jaehyun. I’ve always been afraid of falling in love head-first, always afraid of loving more than the other, but you have proven me wrong. And I love being proven wrong by you. I love the fact that you fiercely, sincerely, and lovingly pull me back to reality every time. Reality with you is more perfect than anything I could have ever dreamed of.

Since my first letter was supposed to be a goodbye, I want this letter to be proof that I choose to greet the future with you. I want this letter to be proof that I will never need a letter again. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and telling you about it, and I will reassure you of that always, in the same manner as you have always me reassured me. You told me that my heart was good and pure, but I genuinely believe that I am constantly reflecting back what you give me: your kindness, Jae, your sincerity, your unbelievable humanity.

You are the only man I ever want roses in my life from, and that will never change. :) So if you finish reading this, stop creeping on my Instagram waiting for me to drop the other man and come bring me another bouquet so I can prove to you there has never been another. You are the only one in my heart.

With love,

your sweetheart

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spideysbruh · 4 months ago

Text

busy woman

requested- need a Timothee social media au with sabrina carpenter fc

a/n- since the deluxe is out !!!!!!!!!

@y/n just tweeted- please.

@shortyn replied- so real

@realchalamet replied- please

@billiexyn replied to @realchalamet- WHAT DO YALL KNOW?!?!?!??

liked by tchalamet, tayrussell and 872,288 others

y/n i know i have good judgement...

view all 22,277 comments

tchalamet probably my favorite music video of yours

confidentyn WE'RE GETTING A MYSIC VIDEO TOOOO OH MY GODDD

dejavuyn LETS GOOO NEW MUSIC FINALLYYYY

lauriesvest IS THAT NOT TIMMY ?!?!?!!!!!

laylayyn the way she's flipping him off lmfaooooo

liked by y/n, tayrussell and 2,288,883 others

tchalamet toooooonighttttttt

view all 73,665

xmasyn these two never make any fucking sense istg

y/n tonighttttttt the minutes seem like hours

liked by tchalamet

tchalamet the hours go so slowlyyyy

itaintmeyn couples that don't make sense together, stay together!!!!!!!

liked by tchalamet

liked by tchalamet, billieeilish and 1,098,276 others

y/n tonight 😳😳

view all 32,117 comments

tchalamet 🥵🥵

historyyn AHHHH YALL ARE A COUPLE IN IT !?!?!!

ynsbeatbox CANT WAITTTTT

beautifulyn he's a CRIMINAL in it ?!?!!!

liked by tchalamet, florencepugh and 977,488 others

y/n can't wait to see you all and be incredibly horny every night 🫶

view all 87,288 comments

tchalamet ... i don't know if I want you on this tour anymore, babe...

liked by y/n

y/n it's too late buddy

changinyn LMFAOOO NO WAY SHE SAID THATTT

rachelynstan she's so funny bro 😭😭

noticeyn ILL SEE YOU IN CHICAGOOOOOOOO

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- writing about me?? 😳😳 busy busy...

@timmyandynupdates just tweeted- Timothée and Y/n seen in New York recently!

@starsyn replied- MY PARENTSSSSSS

@prettyyn replied- i hope he's there for the opening night of tour🥺

@ynsjuicebox replied to @prettyyn- me too he's always so entertaining at her shows😭

liked by sza, rachelzegler and 2,109,299 others

tchalamet this pretty girl's tour kicks off tonight. she works harder than anyone else i know. I'm endlessly proud of her.

comments on this post have been limited

y/n i love you.

y/n I JUST DID MY MAKEUP FUCK

liked by tchalamet

tchalamet sowwy :(

liked by tchalamet, rachelzegler, billieeilish and 1,263,488 others

y/n one week down, nine more to go 😳😳

view all 76,177 comments

coincidenceyn PLS ARREST TIMMY FOR ONE SHIWWWW

lovethechals this out of context is so funny 😭😭💀

bobdylyn FUCK I WANNA GOOOOO BUT ITS SOLD OUT 💔💔💔

tchalamet wowwwww that first picture is so pretty, that person is definitely a good photographer.

liked by y/n

tchalamet best show ive ever been to

liked by y/n

y/n just posted a story!

caption- my honey beeee 🍯

liked by tchalamet, sabrinacarpenter and 1,432,488 others

y/n two days off, I make the best of them

view all 54,387 comments

compyn is that a collage of timmy ? 😭😭

y/n he goes to my work, I go to his 🤷🏼‍♀️

tchalamet how are you the prettiest fucking girl in the whole entire universe ?

liked by y/n

rachelzegler my pretty best friend !!!

tchalamet my busy pretty girl

outlawyn his comments oh god im so lonely 💔💔💔

liked by y/n, doechii, ellefanning and 3,009,199 others

tchalamet i hit the jackpot with you

view all 81,019 comments

y/n oh stopppp 🤭

liked by tchalamet

snoozeyn GIRL THE PICTURE SHE POSTED ON HER STORYYYY FUUUUUUUCKKKKK MEEEEEEEEE

acompletetimmy may a love like theirs find me 😭🫶🫶🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

liked by tchalamet, dylanminnette and 2,188,938 others

y/n performing or whatevaaaa

view all 81,198 comments

spideyyn HOW IS SHE SO GORGEOUS

timmyxyn i bet timmy took those last two pics🥺🥺

timmysgreeneyes how tf did timmy bag suchhhh a baddie bro

tchalamet stg i could spend every single second of every single day of my life with you and never get bored

liked by y/n

y/n 🥺🥺 i love you

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- 😍😍🤩🤩🤩😍😍🤩🤩😘😘😘😘😘😘😋😋😋😋😋😋

liked by tchalamet, rachelzegler and 2,388,277 others

y/n why are we lowkey giving flynn and rapunzel

view all 71,477 comments

tchalamet you were my new dream 😔✊🏼

y/n boy stop imma cry

bobsyn the prettiest couple ever

dontthinktwiceyn can I be yalls nepo baby pleaseeeee

tchalamet just posted a story!

caption- 🫦🫦🫦😋😋😋😋

#timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet fanfiction #timothee chalamet imagine #timothée chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet au #timothee chalamet x you #timothee fanfic #timothée chalamet imagine #timothee chalamet fluff #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée x reader #timothée chalamet social media au #timothée chalamet smau #timothee chalamet smau #timothee chalamet social media au

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light-yaers · 2 months ago

Text

Take Care: Chapter Fifteen

Fic Masterpost | AO3 | Chapter List

Warnings: swearing, eventual smut, emotional themes.

A/N: OKKKKKAY I'M SORRY THIS IS 7 MONTHS LATE ALRIGHT. i got into a relationship, got promoted at work, and now have ANOTHER promotion around the bend. i am tired, i am busy, but i still got this done because i can't stop thinking about roy kent. love yall

Word count: 6k+

Chapter Fifteen

Roy was right– you had absolutely fractured the shit out of your hand. The few days after the incident, despite the pain, you found yourself not giving a fuck. You hadn’t done it for any other reason than one that was good and needed.

Your feelings about Nate had settled to an erroneous buzz. One that was constantly there, but that you’d rather not think about. Roy, Rebecca and Keeley still didn’t know, and you were determined to still keep it that way for the teams’ sake.

You were still on cloud nine, so to speak. Even the most boring and futile days at Pluto Press were made better by the constant reminder of your behaviour at Wembley. The wrist brace that Roy had forced you to wear was growing on you. You thought of it fondly.

On your way back from work one dark Thursday, Rebecca’s name popped up on your phone screen. You picked up her call with a skip in your step, only a few minutes from the tube station. “Well hello, Ms. Welton.”

“Hello, darling,” she said, but something sounded off.

You stopped walking immediately. “Are you okay?” you asked, concerned.

She sniffed on the other end of the line. “Yes. Well– no. But still yes, sort of.”

“Where are you?”

“At home, darling. I’m fine, I’m fine. I’ve just received some pretty subpar news.” You waited for her to catch her breath. “My father died.”

You shut your eyes and froze in place. “Oh, Rebecca. I’m so, so, sorry.”

“My mother’s here, she’s staying for a few days. Just until we sort out his funeral, and other bits and bobs, and whatever fucking else.”

“Okay.” You listened intently. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Rebecca breathed out. “Only you would be so quick to offer a helping hand. No, no, it’s all fine. Though, perhaps, you could tell Roy and Ted. I suspect I’m going to be quite busy the next few days.”

“Of course, of course– anything. I’ll let them know, don’t worry.”

“Okay, love.” Rebecca let out a huff. “God– it’s odd. It’s a very odd feeling.”

“I’m always here if you need to talk, or stuff our faces with garlic bread, or get ridiculously drunk on fine white wine, you know.”

Rebecca chuckled. “I know that. Thank you, darling.”

“Send your mum my love.”

“I will, I will. I best be off. I’ll see you soon, okay, darling?”

“See you soon, Rebecca.”

You walked straight to Roy’s house when you got off the tube at Richmond, unable to stop thinking about Rebecca and her mother. You’d never lost a parent, nor a sibling, but you’d lost others. You couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose someone so immediate, even despite knowing that Rebecca’s connection to her father hadn’t always been incredibly strong.

You rounded the corner and onto Roy’s lavish street, knowing the way even if you weren’t looking where you were going. A right at your front door, all the way down your terraced street, and then a hard right, past the two pillars that graced the entrance of the road to the huge fuck-off houses in the rich part of your neighbourhood.

The lights were dim inside Roy’s house, but you knew he’d be in. You knocked on his great oak door the same way you’d done a thousand times before.

Roy was barefoot when he opened the door, and his once emotionless face erupted into a surprised smile when his eyes met your own.

“Fancy seeing you here,” he said.

“Fancy seeing you here, too.”

“In my own house?” Roy perked a brow at you playfully.

“Let’s not dabble on specifics.” You smiled. “Are you gonna let me in or what?”

Roy moved out of the way enough for you to sneak past him and into his porch. You took off your shoes and dropped your bag to the floor comfortably, knowing you didn’t have to be anyone but yourself in his home.

Roy shut the door behind you. “Want a beer?”

“Please,” you breathed out.

You followed him to the kitchen, but took a left and settled at his dining table as he opened the fridge.

“Long day?” he asked, shutting the fridge before he popped the tops off two beer bottles.

You sighed deeply. “Kind of, but I’m actually playing messenger for Rebecca.”

“Oh?” Roy slid a bottle your way and took the end chair at the table, so he could sit closer to you.

You tapped the bottle sadly. “Her father passed away. She called me about an hour ago.”

Roy leaned back in his chair, a pained expression donned on his face. “Fuck.”

“Yeah— fuck.”

“Shit.”

“Shit,” you repeated.

“Piss.”

“If you’re going to reel through every profane word in the dictionary we’ll need more beers than this.”

Roy shrugged. “I just don’t know what to say,” he admitted.

“Yeah, I feel you there.” The swig of beer you took after talking felt incredibly needed. It settled in your stomach warmly. Your shoulders relaxed. You leaned back in your chair, mimicking Roy.

“She said she’ll be busy the next few days with planning his funeral. Oh— and would you mind telling Ted and the guys? She asked me to, but I don’t know the next time I’ll make it to Nelson Road.”

Roy nodded. “Of course, no problem,” he said gently, lowly.

“Thanks.” As you spoke, you leaned forward and laid your head on the table, letting out a great sigh. “I guess that’s the end of my chipper streak.”

“Still riding high after that suckerpunch to Jamie’s dad’s fuck ugly face?” Roy joked.

You lifted your braced wrist towards him, not looking at his expression. “Absolutely.”

“Here.” Roy tucked his chair in abruptly, and before you could move, his fingers gently wrapped around your hand.

You looked up at him then, as he handled you with such care. He pulled the velcro from the brace and let it fall, exposing your bare wrist. Gently, he twisted your hand so your palm faced upwards. His fingers prodded the swollen skin of your wrist delicately, and never to the point of pain.

“It looks a lot better,” he said lowly.

“You forcing me to wear that thing actually paid off, as much as that hurts me to admit.” You laughed to yourself a little, and a smile broke out on Roy’s face.

“I’ll take that as a fucking compliment.”

“You should,” you said smally. You caught his eye swiftly, your stare lingering on his own. You fell headfirst into this indulgence. “You were so quick to take care of me, you know.”

“I could tell you’d never thrown a fucking punch in your life, that’s why,” he said, fingers still on your skin. Slowly, as if tempting fate, he slid his hand into your own. “No good being a writer if you can’t hold a fucking pen.”

You chuckled lightly. “Well, I’m glad you were so proactive. If I lost my hand, then what use would I be?”

“Exactly my thoughts. I was only thinking of your future career as a novelist.”

“Of course, you were,” you agreed sarcastically.

“That was all it was about, nothing else.” Roy wrapped his fingers around your hand, so he was holding you warmly. Like two lovers on a date at the cinema, or hand in hand walking down the street—

Or sat opposite one another at a dining table, not knowing what other moves to make.

You exhaled deeply, comfortably. “Nothing else,” you repeated.

“Nothing whatsoever.” Roy squeezed your hand affectionately.

If the two of you weren’t already a walking cliché of miscommunication, stolen glances and unimaginable angst, then you mentally added this unspoken thing between you to the list. You couldn’t kid yourself though; you knew that yourself and Roy hit every trope in the fucking book.

Roy leaned closer to you across the table. Not too much, but enough to make your eyes focus on him unwaveringly. Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach and disturbed the butterflies that slept there. Like a living rainforest, your insides ignited with feeling as the butterflies rose from their slumber and wreaked havoc on your guts.

“Do you think…” Roy began, speaking in the softest tone that he possibly could. “Do you think we’ll ever talk about the ‘nothing else’ between us?”

Gently, Roy’s thumb started circling your palm. You froze in place, not knowing how to compute his words while your entire body focused on his touch.

This had been coming for a while, had it not? You and him, him and you. The relentless back and forth played in your mind in an instant. What you’d started as, what you’d almost become, what you thought you’d lost at one point, until Roy had let everything out in his Jeep after you’d trusted him with your problems.

Unwillingly, your thoughts also traversed the time that he’d been a ghost. After his retirement, when he’d refused to face the world and everyone who cared about him— you— for multiple months.

You knew he was trying to change his ways, could see how he’d started growing for the better— but was it enough for you to know that all would be well if things ever soured, if this ‘nothing else’ between you ended up as a simple friendship?

“We’re doing so well,” you let out involuntarily, hating the way your voice shook as you spoke. That wasn’t how you’d wanted to sound. You wanted to sound confident and controlled, not like an imminent mess.

“We are,” Roy burst, smiling. “We really are.”

“I don’t want this— us— to stop.”

“Me neither. Not ever.”

You squeezed Roy’s hand back, trying to communicate in the best way you could when words were failing you. You weren’t made for this; you were made for letter writing, and acts of service, and nothing that required you to dispel your feelings so openly and to someone’s face.

God, you wanted him. You really did. Your thoughts betrayed you every time you got scared of something more. But this, right here— he was literally in the palm of your hand.

So why couldn’t you just fall?

“Roy—,”

You were ripped from the present by the abrupt ringing of your mobile phone. You closed your eyes instantly and wished for the shrill ringing to stop, but Roy had already ripped his hand from yours before you could say a word.

“You should get that,” Roy said bluntly.

Quickly, disgruntled, you grabbed the phone from your pocket and read the name on the screen. Your fucking boss. Jesus fucking Christ, what awful timing.

“I— I’m sorry,” you stuttered and rose from your seat, answering the call.

Roy sat back in his chair and placed his hands in his lap. He watched as you paced his living room, only hearing your side of the conversation. Lots of yeses, and okay’s fell from your mouth. A minute in, you clamped your eyes shut and squeezed the bridge of your nose with your fingers callously. It was plain to see how much you hated it— your job, your world.

Innately, Roy desperately wanted to stand up and grab the phone from your hand. He wanted to yell at whoever was on the other line to fuck off before hanging it up on your behalf.

“Yeah, okay. Alright, bye.” You hung up the phone then, holding it in your hand with shaking fingers.

You stood in Roy’s living room with your back turned to him at the dining table, absolutely fucking fuming.

“That was work,” you said. “Apparently I forgot to finish an important lead off for tomorrow, even though I never got the email. Must have slipped through the cracks.” You placed your hands on your hips and turned back to Roy, sending him the most apologetic stare you were capable of.

Roy’s face was sour. He wasn’t practised in changing his expression for the sake of others. You knew he was pissed off.

“I don’t know why you stay,” he said lowly.

“Money. Life. Living the dream. All that jazz.” You plodded back to the table and sat down again. You picked up your beer and held it in your hands, just so you had something to fiddle with.

“Nah, that’s fucking bullshit.” He took a swig of beer, not daring to hide his opinion. “This isn’t living the dream, this isn’t your dream in the fucking slightest.”

“Yeah well, it’s all I’ve got right now,” you said shortly.

“Not if you let anyone give you a crumb of fucking help,” he snapped. “Do you know how much all of us worry about you? That job is a fucking cesspit of incels who’ve never worked a day in their lives, who give you all their fucking dirty work to do—,”

“Not all of us were blessed with finding their dream fucking career, Roy.” You sent him a red stare. “Some of us have to work for what we want.”

“Oh, and you think that’s what you want? Those fucking yaps at Pluto Press sucking you dry for all you’re worth?”

“It’s the only thing I have right now! So, what the hell do you expect me to do about it?”

“Give yourself a fucking chance!” He exploded. “Rebecca says you won’t let her get you a job.”

You slammed your beer on the table and crossed your arms defensively. “I won’t be a pity piece, Roy. I’d rather fucking move back home than let her give me a job on a silver fucking platter—,”

“You earned that right! You worked with us for a year and never let us forget you! You’re not a fucking pity piece—,”

“You’re an ex-professional footballer, Roy! You don’t fucking understand what real life is like!”

With every fired sentence, the two of you got closer to the other across the table. Fingers were being pointed. Faces were turning red. Heat was passed between the two of you, but not the kind that warmed you gently— it was the kind you never wanted to face Roy with.

“What, you think I didn’t work to get where I am?” He bit.

“Of course, I don’t think that! I know you work hard, Roy, but that coaching position was fucking waiting for you as soon as you realised you wanted it. I don’t get the fucking luxury—,”

“Bollocks to that shit! You’ve been dying to be back at the Dogtrack since you fucking left, and me, and Ted, and Rebecca have been waiting for you to accept any fucking offer we put out—!”

“But I didn’t work for that!” you screamed. “I didn’t work for that, Roy. Keeley does what I used to do, and she’s amazing at it. Rebecca will create a position purely for me to be back, but that’s not what I need or want. I don’t want favours, I want to earn it like the rest of you earned the right to be there. I want to write my book, and be around you all, and not take things for granted— so no, I won’t take favours. That’s not the kind of person I am, and I never fucking will be. I’ll pay my dues the same way you all have, and you’ll all be fucking happy for me when I finally finish things rightly.”

Roy downed the rest of his beer immediately, and almost smashed the bottle as he slammed it back on the table. “Well, I’ll be fucking happy for you as soon as you get your head out of your fucking arse and accept help from your friends.”

“God!” you yelled, then quickly mimicked Roy in downing your drink and dropping the bottle back on the table. You stood abruptly. “Well, I’ll be waiting for you guys as soon as you realise my fucking side of things!”

“Fine!” Roy stood quickly.

“Good!” you yelled, then headed for the door.

“Fucking fine!” Roy was on your tail as you made your way towards your things. You shoved on your shoes clumsily and grabbed your bag, swinging it around your shoulder swiftly.

“Fucking good!” You pulled the latch on his door and left as fast as you could.

“Give me a call when you figure out how much all of us want you to succeed in life!”

You contorted yourself as you fired back at him. “I will!”

“Good!”

“Fine!”

Roy slammed his door as you fast walked home, seething. You’d never got this angry around him, nor he at you, but you wouldn’t falter. Roy wouldn’t ever understand the position you were in.

Roy put his head in his hands as soon as he shut the door. You didn’t understand what it was like for him and every other person who cared for you to see you so tired, so runned down, so burnt out.

You spent the evening pretending the visit to Roy’s had never existed. Sure, you thought about it. You thought of the way he looked at you, and held you, and touched your bare skin. You thought of the words he’d said directly to your face, not faltering for a second. You didn’t even know what ‘nothing else’ meant anymore.

The next morning, a disgruntling newspaper was posted through your letterbox. The headline: Ted Lasso suffers panic attack at important match. You remembered that day, that game, the one before Wembley; the one where Ted had been seen trotting off the field from what everyone believed to be an upset stomach. The truth had come out in the worst of ways. You scowled as you immediately deposited the paper in the bin before you left for work.

There was no word from Roy, no texts, no calls: no apology. You pretended like nothing had ever happened the previous night as you hopped on the tube to central London.

The weekend after, you donned a black dress and matching kitten heels. You wore no make-up, not because you didn’t want to look good, because you knew it would be futile upon seeing Rebecca and her mother’s faces. The church was in Richmond. The service was in an hour. You’d assumed that Roy had held true to his word and passed on the news of her father’s passing. You knew they’d all be attending, even the team.

When you approached the church on that overcast day in June, you found yourself holding your breath. This was a new realm for you. Not the funeral itself, but being a support system for someone else in this circumstance. Rebecca needed her friends and family around her more now than ever. It made you flashback ages ago– to the night of the charity ball.

You’d turned to Rebecca in the bathroom and spoken your mind about Rupert. You weren’t even friends back then; it was odd to put the pieces together of that time. The timid lunches, the feeling of being dirt in the corner that she’d like nothing more than to feather-duster away. Things had changed drastically after the Everton game, and you had never pinpointed why.

Not that you were complaining. You relied on her, on Keeley, on…

Roy’s face flashed at the forefront of your mind. Your heart hurt for him, but your head thought of a few nasty words you wanted to call him to his face.

Rebecca had once ignited those same words in you, way back at the beginning.

Now, here she was– standing outside the church beside her mother, greeting people with the same confident and strong smile that she’d always been capable of donning in dire situations. Your good friend who had done so much for you, and continued to do so.

Your heart swelled as you approached them, joining the small queue of people who waited to say hello and express their condolences.

When an elderly couple finished and pootled inside, she finally met your eye. Her hard exterior began to crumble in an instant. Before she could say a word, you wrapped your arms around her strongly. She smelled like expensive shampoo and Chanel No.5.

“Darling,” she whispered.

“Rebecca.” You squeezed her tightly once, before pulling away. A few crystalline tears pooled in her eyes.

“Thank you for being here,” she said, then cleared her throat.

“Always.” You smiled at her strongly.

“Is this who I think it is?” Rebecca’s mother chimned in. When you looked at her, you could see the resemblance immediately. Her stance, her fashion, even the way her hair was styled. This was Rebecca Welton’s mother through and through. She was shorter than her daughter, but that was no challenge to most people; even when wearing stilettos.

“Mother, this is–”

She stuck her hand out and grabbed your own quickly, leaning towards you. “You’re the gem of the Dogtrack, aren’t you? The one that left for bigger and brighter things after stealing their hearts.”

“W-well,” you stuttered. “I don’t know about that.”

“Stop being modest, darling.” Rebecca smiled amusedly. “Those weren’t my exact words, but they sure are close to what I told my mother of you.”

“How’s your book coming along?” Her mother smiled knowingly.

“I told her a lot, though,” Rebecca added, enjoying the awkward redness of your cheeks.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you.” You finally composed yourself enough to speak full sentences. You shook her mother’s hand warmly before she eventually tugged away. “Despite the circumstances, of course.”

Rebecca’s mother smiled at you smally. “Quite. And yes, thank you for being here.”

Timidly, you glanced round the entrance of the church. There were people brimming indoors, and a few getting out of cars or walking through the gates at the front. You wondered where the team was, where Keeley was, where Ted and Beard and Nate were. In that instant, you couldn’t wait to see them all.

You hadn’t spoken to Roy since your argument.

“He’s coming,” Rebecca’s mother said suddenly, as if she’d read your damn mind. You turned back to her, at a loss for words.

“Who?” you asked as your heart pelted against your chest.

Her mother perked her eyebrows accordingly. “Your footballer.”

Abruptly, you scoffed. “He’s not mine.” You tried to shake off her words, knowing that Rebecca would have got into her head about something or other. Her eyes scraped over your face, all while you tried not to meet her gaze.

Your face softened when her eyes looked beyond you, to the front of the churchyard. “Are you sure about that?” she asked mysteriously, nodding quickly to a point behind you.

You turned around gently.

The AFC Richmond team bus came to a slow stop outside the gates of the churchyard. One by one, your boys disembarked. They were dressed in their Sunday best; you’d never seen half of them wear more than jeans and track pants.

You met Sam’s eye first, and his soft features graced you with a much needed smile. Behind him, Jamie helped Dani down from the coach steps, and beyond them Isaac donned an expensive pair of sunglasses and gorgeous suit— the kind only a professional footballer could afford for a funeral.

Your heart swelled as they approached. Behind you, you sensed that Rebecca felt the exact same as you.

They were dazzling, it had to be said. Seeing a football team congregate at any event besides a match itself was an experience, but seeing them all here to support the owner of their team was better than you could imagine.

Sam was the first to reach Rebecca, encasing her in a hug that felt intimate and genuine. The others followed, but you were distracted as they all lined up by the front of the church— Keeley had joined the team still disembarking by the coach, Beard and Nate next to her, and the fourth member of their rabble was the one that made your fingers twitch.

Roy donned a black suit. Nothing extravagant, but simple and clean. He’d trimmed his hair and beard. He looked good, and it made your insides twist.

Quickly, as Rebecca pulled away from greeting Dani, you muttered about going inside. Before Roy could even spot you, you headed inside the church to avoid the incoming awkwardness that you knew would come as soon as you said hello to him.

You’d never considered yourself an avoidant. Hell, you’d chased Roy down the street last year after months of him ignoring you. You’d always confronted him when he wasn’t kind in your first few months at Richmond. You’d always been the first to apologise, or mend your relationship, or fix what he’d unintentionally broken. This time, you thought, you didn’t want to do it. It was his turn to approach you and break the ice, address the obvious, attempt to fix what your argument had caused.

It was quiet inside. The vast church walls and arched ceiling made every whisper reverberate back into the room. An organ played a sombre tune. You stood at the back of the room and waited.

You didn’t see Roy in the service, but you knew he was there. Rebecca recited Rick Astley, and the entire church joined in. The only break in play had come from a stray Ted arriving in the middle of the service. It was uneventful, besides the constant pitter patter of your heart beneath your ribs.

Back at Rebecca’s mother’s house you stayed with the boys. Colin caught you up on all of their recent games. Isaac kept his sunglasses on inside. Sam was nowhere to be seen for half of the wake.

Everything felt strange, like you were waiting with bated breath that you didn’t even properly have. The unusualness of being reunited with the team was lost due to the occasion, but you knew that was for the best. This day wasn’t for you— it was for Rebecca and her mother.

As you got yourself a refill of wine, a gentle hand deposited itself on your shoulder. “What’s up, writer?” Ted’s Kansas accent warmed you instantly.

You hugged him immediately, settling into his arms as if you’d been tensed for a number of hours. Perhaps you had been. “Coach,” you addressed him, standing back from the embrace. “It’s good to see you.”

“You too.” He smiled, and you couldn’t help but be reminded of the headlines about him a week prior. You grimaced without meaning to. “Oh, well that’s not a good face, is it?”

“Who the fuck sold that story about you? I swear, I’ll find them and make them regret it—,”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold your damn horses.” Ted chuckled lightly, placing his hands on your shoulders. Your sudden defensive stance was dissipated by his touch.

“Seriously, Ted. That’s private, and not fair in the slightest. I’m sorry they wrote about you like that.”

Ted shrugged. “It’s not like it was a lie made up by the tabloids. It’s alright.”

You huffed, crossing your arms. “It’s still shitty.”

“Sure it is.” Ted reasoned with you. “Swings and roundabouts, writer. I don’t care what they write about me. I’m just not fond of what it does to the team as a consequence.”

Your face softened. “Colin tells me your games are going well.”

“We’re almost top of the table, baby.” His smile was dazzling. “And that’s all I care about. Not some snooty paper trying to weed us out.”

In your peripheral vision, you felt the familiar stare of someone. Nate held a beer in his hand and faced you full frontally. You didn’t pay any more attention to him to see the state of his expression— he didn’t deserve knowing that you thought about him.

It took less than a second to realise that it was him that sold the story to the Sun. Of course he fucking had. You could’ve confidently bet money on him being the snake that exposed Ted’s private information.

You refocused fully on Ted, smiling sullenly as you settled in place before him.

You made light conversation with most of the team that afternoon, simply checking in and glad that you had some time to catch up on the current standings. Winding through the corridors of the vast house, you couldn’t help but ponder if Roy would be around another corner. Every room you entered you mentally prepared yourself to face him, but you never found yourself face to face with him as the minutes turned to hours.

At one point you found yourself with no one to chat with. In the grand living room, Keeley and Jamie muttered in the corner. On the other side, Ted and Beard chatted with plates covered in single serving sausage rolls.

You exited the room and headed for the stairs. Quietly, you ascended. Perhaps you wanted to explore the house, or see Rebecca’s childhood bedroom, or get some air away from the subtle hubbub of the various downstairs rooms.

You found her room quickly, noticing the pink bedspread and posters on the walls from the nineties. What you weren’t expecting was the life size cut out of Roy Kent surveying her trinkets. You stalled quickly, enough to make the floorboards creak beneath you. Before you could leave the room, Roy turned to you. Spotted– at last.

“I didn’t realise anyone would be in here,” you said, innately cursing yourself for speaking first.

“I came up here to get away from everyone for a moment,” Roy replied.

You nodded awkwardly. “I’ll leave you to it–”

“No.” Roy stepped forward once, and that was all. “Stay.” You stayed frozen to your spot. “This room is fucking big enough for the two of us.”

He was right. As far as teenage rooms go, Rebecca had a good one. With large bay windows that sprawled out with a view of the back garden. It was light, it was airy, and you could only feel the subtle jealousy of wanting a space like this when you were ten years younger.

You surveyed the walls and took it all in. “This is a nice room.”

“A nice gaff, more like. This place is a fucking mansion.”

“Rebecca’s always been well off,” you said, stepping trepidatiously further into the space. You gravitated towards her bed, until you finally sank onto her mattress. It was soft; memory foam. “It doesn’t surprise me that this was her family home.”

Roy shoved his hands into his pockets and looked at the floor. There was tension in the air, to say the least. It was apparent that both of you felt out of place, still reeling from your argument the week before, and the lack of closure from it. This was the longest you’d gone in months without actually talking to Roy– not small talk about houses or bed-rooms or the like, but actually talking.

You stuck to your promise of not making the first move, but you opened up the conversation while you still had the nerve. “I guess you saw the paper. About Ted.”

Roy growled gently. “Yeah, I did.” He strolled forward slowly, approaching you on the bed. “I was there, y’know, when he told us coaches about his panic attacks. I don’t want to believe that it was one of us who shared his fucking secrets…”

“But?” you let out before you could stop yourself.

You caught Roy’s eyes, and they twinkled with something unspoken. Did he know about Nate? Did he know how much of a manipulator he’d been to you?

Roy only shrugged, before he finally deposited himself next to you. As much as you felt you deserved an apology still, you were thankful for his proximity to you. “Fucking but. I don’t know who spread that shit around.”

You kept your thoughts to yourself. “Ted seems okay despite it.”

Roy huffed with subtle amusement. “You know Ted and his happy-go-lucky American bullshit. If he was even torn up about it, he wouldn’t fucking tell anyone, especially not anyone from the team.”

“Hmm,” you hummed with concern. You tapped your fingers on your thigh anxiously. “Can you please keep an eye on him,” you said, finally looking into Roy’s eyes properly. “I worry about him. Just keep an eye on him for me, okay?”

Roy’s face softened. His eyes danced over your face for the first time in over a week. “Okay.” He waited for a beat. “For you, I will.”

You looked away first, trying not to blush violently, and suddenly enamored with an overloaded cork board above Rebecca’s bed. Beside you, Roy scooted closer. “Hey,” he said softly.

You kept your gaze glued on the opposite wall to him. “Hm?”

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. You sucked in a deep breath, sinking further into the memory foam. “I shouldn’t have said all that fucking shit. I was angry, and you didn’t deserve me screaming down your throat about a job that you can’t control.”

Turning towards him, a smile settled on your face before you’d even said a word. “I know you only want the best for me– all of you– and that’s… that’s…”

“It’s a hard pill to swallow sometimes, I get it.”

“I don’t like fighting with you, you know,” you said.

Roy chuffed immediately. “I’m in the same fucking boat with you there, sweetheart.” You chuckled abruptly at the return of his honesty. This was normal; this was what you and Roy had created from the moment you’d first become friends.

“I would’ve apologised sooner,” Roy started. “I just didn’t want to do it over fucking text, or a phone call. It didn’t seem like enough.”

“You’ve been busy, too.”

“Hey– so have you. With that shit job you still have.”

“Are we going to start arguing again, Roy?” you asked jokingly.

“Nah,” he said, a smile plastered on his usually stoic face. “You already know how I feel about it all.”

“I do.” You nodded.

“And you already know that I’m here if you ever sack it all off.”

“I do.” You nodded again.

“Well.” Roy reached out for your hand instantly. His fingers wrapped around you warmly. “Give me a call if that day ever fucking comes.” You huffed with a mixture of amusement and warmth. “And every day it doesn’t, as well.”

When you looked at him then, you had to fight against crumbling completely. Roy Kent really was something. And you’d spent the better half of two years trying to figure out what that something was. As much as he was reactionary, he also took accountability. As much as he’d made you feel sad sometimes, you could outweigh that with the amount he’d made you feel the complete opposite. He was part of what had kept you in Richmond for all this time, even despite Pluto Press, even despite the shit situation that had placed you there in the first place– he kept you here.

“And I’ll be there to answer.” You meant it. “Every single time.”

“Good,” Roy said softly.

You chuckled to yourself. “Good.”

As the two of you rejoined the wake downstairs. Roy grabbed you a beer without you even asking, and you couldn’t help but notice the line between your unspoken thing getting thinner and thinner.

After the wake, Keeley organised a girls night at hers. You couldn’t remember the last time she’d had you and Rebecca over to the house. Her home was lovely; a real architects dream; with floor to ceiling windows everywhere and an abundance of skylights that lit her home with natural light, even during the winter months.

You made yourself comfortable on her plush sofa, glass of wine in hand, as the three of you caught up properly for the first time in well over a month.

“It was odd, seeing my mum in that kind of environment. Especially when it was all about my dad,” Rebecca said, taking a sip of wine with a fluffy pillow snuggly on her lap.

“Funerals make me feel weird,” Keeley said. “Like, when I die, I think I want to be buried underneath a young apple tree. And that way, my decomposition will help fertilise the tree above me, and then everyone can eat the apples from my branches.”

You refrained from grimacing involuntarily. It was a nice sentiment, but the thought of biting into an apple from Keeley’s death tree made you feel a bit sick.

Rebecca laid a hand on her leg from the other end of the sofa. “That’s lovely darling.” The look on her face showed she was lying. Keeley chose to ignore her.

“Where even were you at the wake?” you asked Keeley. “I didn’t see you for practically the whole time we were there. I hung around with Ted, mostly.”

“I was with my mother, mostly. But you’re right–” Rebecca nodded at you. “I don’t recall seeing you around the house much.”

You clicked your fingers abruptly. “Oh– I did see you with Jamie at one point.”

You and Rebecca laid your gaze on Keeley. She was swiping her finger timidly around the rim of her wine glass, acting as if she wanted the plush sofa to engulf her whole. You’d never seen her so obviously wanting to disappear from a conversation.

“Keeley,” you said lowly. “What’s going on?”

Keeley shrugged smally. It reminded you of Roy.

“Darling,” Rebecca said, pushing her ever so slightly.

“Yeah, I was with Jamie. Maybe.” Keeley finally caved.

You leaned closer to her, bridging the gap in the Keeley sandwich you were in, of which you and Rebecca were the thick and soft slices of bread. When the two of you got close enough to touch her cheeks with your noses, Keeley exploded.

“Alright!” she yelled, propelling herself up with the sofa. She rounded the coffee table until she stood, almost jumping on the spot, before the telly. “You two are the worst at minding your own fucking business!”

“Oh, please– you were practically omitting radiation with how much you wanted to spill this.” You said with amusement, repositioning yourself on the sofa to sit on your feet.

“So, come on, darling. Spill it.” Rebecca copied you, hopping onto her ankles.

Keeley let out an array of noises, that could only be described as utter gibberish, before she let it all out. “At the wake, Jamie told me he’s in love with me.”

In unison, you and Rebecca jumped up from the sofa. The fluffy, cream carpet beneath your feet felt the most of the brunt, as the red wine in your glass had already jumped ship straight to the floor. Your sock was drenched in Merlot, but you didn’t give a shit.

“He said what?” Rebecca screamed.

“No fucking way!” you screeched.

“I know!” Keeley responded, running in place to dispel her relentless nervous energy. “He just said it! Like it was the easiest thing in the fucking world to tell me!”

Rebecca placed her fingers on her chin, almost freezing in place. You, however, were still riding the same wave as Keeley. You jogged on the spot the same as her, not even thinking of the bigger picture, or the reasons why. Of course, Jamie Tartt was in love with Keeley Jones. Why the fuck wouldn’t he be?

Rebecca cleared her throat. “I’ve been having a secret affair with Sam Obisanya.”

You practically performed a double take as your stare slotted towards Rebecca. Keeley stopped jogging, frozen to her spot at the telly behind you all started playing an advert for car insurance.

“Rebecca Welton!” Keeley exclaimed.

You rushed towards Rebecca before you even realised what you were doing. “It was Bantr, wasn’t it?” you asked bluntly.

“How did you know that?!” Rebecca’s shocked expression was golden.

You smiled slyly. “He tells me everything, you know?”

Instantly, Rebecca went red in the face. “I hope not everything.”

When Keeley rushed forwards, you couldn’t help but innately regale at the scene before you. All your lives were so inherently intertwined. Everyone knew each other, everyone cared for each other, no one would let the other down.

Sam had been periodically texting you updates about the woman he’d met through Bantr and the run-up to finally meeting her in person. After their dinner, he’d uncharacteristically gone silent about most of it. Bar the odd conversation when you’d begged to live vicariously through his love-life, the shift from on the app to in person was apparent.

It all made sense.

It also made sense when you pieced everything together about hardly seeing him at the wake. Evidently, Rebecca and him had been tied at the hip in private.

“I can’t believe you kept this from us!” Keeley yelled.

“I can,” you said, calming down slightly, but still feeling warm from this entire get-together. “He’s a player at AFC Richmond, the club that Rebecca owns. It sounds complicated.”

Rebecca let out a gentle breath. “It was.” She swallowed. “That’s why I broke it off with him.”

Keeley immediately calmed down. “Oh… Rebecca. I’m so sorry.”

You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I am, too. That must’ve been hard to do.”

Rebecca looked down-trodden for all of two seconds, before she inhaled deeply. As she did, her back straightened, her chin rose. She was a strong woman incarnate. “It was. But– it had to be done. Sam knew it, too.”

“I bet.” You smiled.

“That doesn’t mean I don’t adore him. I think… I think we’ll both hold onto the past few months for a long time. But!” She exclaimed, flipping the narrative. “That’s not a bad thing. It was fun, Sam and I together. It was fun while it lasted, and I don’t resent it happening.”

“Way to go, Rebecca!” Keeley said, tone full of encouragement.

Rebecca huffed with a smile on her face. As the moment ended, she finally turned to you. “So,” she said.

You took a small step back, scoffing. “So?”

“So, what about you then, darling? It’s your turn.”

“My turn for what?”

Keeley turned to you now. You were cornered. They had you at every angle.

“Your turn to spill it,” Keeley said.

Innately, your lungs collapsed. But– you didn’t have anything you were hiding. You didn’t have news, you didn’t have a confession of love sitting in your lap from anyone, you didn’t have news of an elicit affair with someone from work, nothing.

Though, when you allowed your thoughts to spiral, there was one thing that cropped up above all else.

Roy.

Stupid, stoic Roy, with his potty mouth that meant he was thousands in debt against Phoebe’s swear jar. Annoying, nagging Roy, who wouldn’t give it a rest with trying to interfere with things that you didn’t want fixed.

Gorgeous, kind Roy, who you knew would catch you if you ever were to fall.

God fucking dammit.

Without thinking, the words burst from your mouth.

“I’m in love with Roy Kent.”

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jngkz · 8 months ago

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THE MEN OF THE 12 SIGNS & THEIR RED FLAGS (PT. I)

₊ ⊹ apply these to PERSONAL plants and especially stelliums.

₊ ⊹ as for generational planets, account for them if they are in the what i like to call "the partnership houses" (1st/3rd/5th/7th houses)

aries men

₊ ⊹ short tempered ASF! one of the most irratible and easily frustrated out of all the signs. especially if things aren't going at their specific pace. their short tempter leads to arguments. not as argumentative as virgo men tho lol.

₊ ⊹ LOYAL ... until they don't want to be. similar to their fire sign sister in law sagittarius, aries men will be your ride or die but once they are even slightly bored they'll go ghost.

taurus men

₊ ⊹ SCARILY good at hiding secrets. their red flags/true character won't even show up until months into the relationship. be having you wondering if you really even knew them at all.

₊ ⊹ too nonchalant. i'm not even explaining this one cause i bet everyone reading this has had atleast ONE experience/encounter with a nonchalant taurus man, OR knows someone who has.

gemini men

₊ ⊹ flirty AND oblivious (.....except they're not oblivious at all).

₊ ⊹ they're the type to be friends with all their exes and see no harm in it. WILL claim he and his exes are one big happy family.. after borderline freaking it on with every single one of them.

₊ ⊹ ALWAYS playing devils advocate. they just be taking whatever side you're not on for the sake of a little giggle and a debate. even if that means hurting your feelings in the process.

cancer men

₊ ⊹ mommy issues on 10. but yall already knew the tea on cancer men!!!!! don't be suprised if his mom shows up w him on your dates.

₊ ⊹ manipulative. will be incredibly defensive during arguments and might even put on this sad boy facade that'll make you feel bad for him. but girl just know it's all for show.

leo men

₊ ⊹ will hit on any living breathing thing. has for sure already hit on and tried to get with every person in your friends group.

₊ ⊹ obsessed with themselves. yeah idc the leo stereotypes are true.. no matter how good of a person u think they are. it's interesting (to say the least) because they also tend to be very insecure. tbh they just love put on an arrogant front.

virgo men

₊ ⊹ YALL KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT VIRGO MEN.

₊ ⊹ EXTREMELYYYYYY argumentative. WILL start arguments and WILL always believe that only they are in the right. from what i've seen, 99.9% of women's villain origin stories began because a virgo man wronged her.

₊ ⊹ perfectionists. just very critical and particular about what they like - sometimes so excessive that they project their unrealistic expectations onto their partners.

ok that's all 4 nowwww. might post a pt.2 who knowssss

#astrology #astrology observations #astrology is real #red flags #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer #leo #virgo #astro notes #astro community #astro observations #sidereal astrology #vedic astrology #synastry #composite #ok bye bye

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flemingsfreckles · 1 year ago

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Something New (18+)

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.

Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.

WC: 2.4k

A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)

“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.

“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.

“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.

“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.

The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.

When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.

“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”

You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.

“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.

“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.

After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.

“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.

“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.

“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.

“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”

“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.

“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.

“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.

“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.

“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”

“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.

“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”

She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.

“Let’s go in.”

“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.

“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.

“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.

You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.

You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.

You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.

You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.

“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.

“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.

Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.

You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.

“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.

You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.

“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”

She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”

“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.

Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.

“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.

“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.

“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.

You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.

“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.

“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.

You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.

“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.

She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.

You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.

“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.

You nod quickly at her.

“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.

She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #jessie fleming imagine #woso imagine #woso x reader #woso smut #jessie fleming blurb #jessie fleming smut

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sunshine-daisies-library · 1 year ago

Text

staged romance | luke hemmings x actress!reader

summary: when you get the role of a lifetime, luke struggles to support you when he finds out who your scripted love interest is

word count: 10.8k

warnings: misogyny, arguments, drinking, jealousy, swearing, mentions of cheating, angst

author’s note: the title of the movie/book and the show were smth i made up on the fly so it’s not to be affiliated w other books/movies that are called that lol, it’s all a coincidence. this is also not proofread!

second author's note: the last bit was rushed in the end but let me be clear! my intent was to portray a loving realistic relationship with healthy communication of feelings and borders. of course, things like that are tough to convey in a one-shot alone. talks of jealousy and cheating is heavily mentioned throughout the text, but it is not my intent to make luke appear toxic or y/n seem unfaithful. the two are in a healthy relationship that gets plagued by jealousy, insecurities, and stupid social media! i, in no way, shape, or form, condone toxic relationships and try my best to let that show in my writing. please consult a trusted loved one if you are experiencing a toxic relationship. i love yall and hope the best!

happy reading lovelies <3

“I’m sure you boys are incredibly busy now more than ever,” the interviewer said, referring to the band’s many new surprises in store. “I can’t help but wonder what you guys are most excited about.”

Luke was nodding along to the woman, barely paying attention and silently hoping for the interview to end faster. Ashton had always teased Luke for having a blank stare during these interviews and the fans have caught on, too, but he couldn’t help being bored talking about the same things over and over again.

“So busy,” Michael agreed, taking the reins on the question. “We’ve got new music coming out, we’ve been working nonstop to release them and film music videos, too. Not to mention our tour coming up in a couple of months. But to speak for the boys, I think we’re all pretty excited to have our music featured in a movie.”

Ashton was quick to chime in. “Yeah, we’ve worked real hard on this one, we were in the studio for hours trying to perfect it and we hope we did the movie justice.”

The interviewer shifted through her binder of notes and questions. “It’s safe to say everyone is stoked to hear it in theaters,” she concluded. “But the question that’s been on everyone’s minds is, Luke, how do you feel about writing a song for a movie your girlfriend is the face of? Could you walk us through that process?”

Calum quietly nudged Luke in the side, bringing his attention to the woman sitting before them. “Oh yeah,” Luke coughed, readjusting his posture in his chair. “I’m super excited to help bring this story to life, it’s been a real journey to go through the entire process of it all. I’m especially proud of y/n for getting the lead role, it’s been a dream of hers to get this far and I’m so lucky to have her in my life and watch her grow as an actress.”

“Aw,” Ashton leaned into his mic, making the boys laugh. “So cute.”

“Very cute,” Luke retorted with a small smile. “She’s great and definitely deserves this role; she’s worked so hard on it and it really shows on the screen. As for the music, I agree with Ash when he said we worked our asses off on it. y/n definitely put in a lot of input on this one, not actually, but she was a great inspiration throughout the writing and producing process.”

Michael grinned at his friend, picking up his mic. “He’s downplaying it,” he quipped. “When the producer reached out to us to write something up for the movie, Luke was really into it. I mean reading through the tidbit that the producer sent us, rereading the book the movie was based on, all of it. Out of the four of us, Luke was really the one who took the wheel on this project and y/n was a big part of the reason why.”

Luke turned red at Michael’s explanation, but it was true. He was ecstatic to hear they wanted 5 Seconds of Summer to add to their soundtrack, and he was even more excited to hear it was for the very movie you just received the lead role for. You both found out the news on the same day and were over the moon excited.

“I got the part!” you yelled, running down the hall to Luke’s office with Petunia following close behind you. “Babe! I got the part-”

Luke swung the door open, a look of disbelief on his face. “They want us to write a song for the movie,” he announced.

Your eyes were wide at his news. In an instant, you jumped into his arms and he caught you, spinning you around as you both let out shouts of joy. Luke peppered kisses down your face and neck, anywhere he could reach, in pride.

“I’m so proud of you, baby,” he told you earnestly. “I’m so so proud of you. You earned this!”

“We earned this,” you corrected him, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling into a kiss.

“Guilty,” Luke sheepishly admitted to the interviewer. “I love my girl, what can I say?”

The woman let out a chuckle before getting back into the interview. “All the fans are happy to hear that,” she told him. “Last question and it’s for Luke again; so Michael said that you read the book for “What Lies Between Us,” and so you probably know that there are a couple explicit scenes in there, particularly between the lead and her love interest, played by Harry Styles. We all are very aware of your past with One Direction, having toured with them and gaining your fame through the tours. How do you feel about your girlfriend and friend coming together for these intimate scenes?”

The boys “oohed” immaturely as Luke blushed, shaking his head. You had already told him there would be scenes like that in the movie, not because he was jealous or would prevent you from doing them, but just to be open with him. After a discussion, the both of you were on the same page about the scenes, agreeing that it’s just work and holds no value offset.

“Yeah, n/n told me about them,” Luke chuckled, taking a sip of water. “And I don’t have anything to say about them. y/n is a great actress and so is Harry. They’re respectable workers and take their job seriously. I trust them both, not that that matters.”

“Well said,” the interviewer applauded. “So even beyond the explicit scenes, do you mind that they will be portraying lovers throughout the film?”

Luke set his water on the ground. “I mean, who doesn’t love Harry Styles, he’s handsome,” he joked playfully. Luke’s crystal blue eyes stared deeply into the camera. “No, I don’t mind at all. It’s all for the movie. Styles may have my girl in the morning and afternoons, but at night she’s mine to hold to sleep.”

–

Luke entered the bedroom, sighing loudly as he hunched over to throw off his shirt. You had been laying there waiting for his arrival home, reading over your agenda and going over your lines in your pajamas under the covers. Petunia was sleeping soundly at the foot of your bed, unbothered by his usual antics.

“You’re home late,” you mused, setting your pen down. “Everything okay, bub?”

Luke moaned and groaned while kicking off his dress pants and replacing them with his more comfortable pair of sweatpants, eventually falling face down onto the bed. You giggled at his dramatics, your hand going to play through his blond curls. He relaxed at your touch as he reached for your hand and kissed it softly.

“Do you think Harry is more handsome than me?” he asked, eyes peering up at yours.

You raised your eyebrows curiously. “Do you want the answer of a 1D fan since high school or the answer of your loving girlfriend?” you joked. You and Luke both knew how deep your love for One Direction was as a teenager. He loved to tease you about your posters and t-shirts, not to mention the Harry Styles cardboard cutout you received as a birthday present one year.

Luke let out another grumble as he rolled onto his back. You scooted forward to rest his head on your lap. “Both,” he decided.

You hummed, resuming your twirling of Luke’s hair. “Well as your girlfriend,” you began. “I think you are the most handsome man to ever walk this planet.”

“And the 1D fan?” he begrudgingly asked.

You took your finger and softly traced along the bridge of his nose, trailing down to his jawline. “I think Harry Styles is very very handsome,” you answered. Watching Luke scrunch his nose in childish jealousy, you leaned in closer. “But I think the lead vocalist of the band that opened for One Direction was way better looking, sweeter, and all around so much better,” you whispered as though you were letting him in on a secret.

Luke pushed you away, sighing loudly once again as you threw your head back in laughter. “That’s the girlfriend speaking!” he whined.

“We’re one and the same, Lu,” you scolded playfully, reaching for your boyfriend. “Just because my seventeen year old self was too obsessed with Harry doesn’t mean I don’t love you and find you all the more attractive now.”

Luke let out an unconvincing huff, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “What’s gotten into you, bub?” you asked, concern taking over your curiosity.

“The interview was all about you and the movie today,” he responded, tucking himself into bed and taking his spot beside you, nestled warmly in your chest.

You snorted, resting your hand back into his hair. Not only were his curls extremely soft at the touch and soothing to play with, you knew -while he would never admit it aloud- Luke loved when you played with his hair. “Didn’t realize I was a tough topic to talk about,” you jested.

Luke rolled over so he was practically laying half of his body on yours. “Nooo,” he said, voice muffled by your shirt. “You know I love to talk about you, baby. It’s just I got a question about you and Harry being love interests.”

You stiffened, clearly caught off guard. “Oh,” you could only muster out.

The musician nodded, burying himself into your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. “People can be so annoying sometimes,” he huffed in frustration. “Why would I care if my girlfriend is playing Harry Styles’ love interest? It’s not like it changes anything between us or between me and Harry.”

“It’s because people are misogynistic and gross,” you explained with an equally upset frown. “Just because I’m a woman in the film industry, they think I’m going to fling myself at any man I act with. It was the same for my last movie. I don’t understand why people are so quick to judge and point fingers.”

Luke lifted his chin and cupped your cheek affectionately. “I’m so sorry this is what you have to deal with everyday,” he apologized. “It’s bullshit, and I’ve made it crystal clear that you should be respected and valued for your work, not who you kiss or whatever on the screens.”

“You can always shut down the questions if they ask you,” you reminded him. “You don’t have to make yourself uncomfortable.”

Luke bit his lip in thought, a habit you found adorable and mesmerizing to watch. “But I’d rather answer these questions and stop the narrative about actresses and showmances. It’s not fair for you guys to be scrutinized about your love lives and image while male actors never get those kinds of questions.”

Your lips trembled in awe of Luke’s small rant. You had never felt so loved and appreciated by the man like you did right now. He was ever a gentleman in a world of childish boys. “You know I love you, right?” you asked him with a tearful smile.

Luke raised his thumb to the corner of your eyes to wipe away a stray tear. “It’s the bare minimum to support my girl,” he told you. “I love you, too, baby.”

Settling back down under the covers with your lover, you rested your head on top of his. “You don’t have to worry about me and Harry,” you reassured him. “It’s strictly business between us, and he’s aware of that.”

“I’m not worried,” Luke said, his eyes fluttering closed. “Get some sleep, love. You got an early morning ahead of you.”

–

The next morning, you woke up refreshed with your boyfriend still fast asleep beside you. You smiled to yourself, taking a mental image of the singer nestled beside you. His arm was snug around your waist and his nose was buried in your chest, a normal routine you’ve found the both of you falling into when he was home from tours. What you hated the most was ending said routine when you had to wake up before him for filming.

You slowly removed his arm and slid out from under the sheets, trying to not wake him. Of course, ever the heavy sleeper, Luke remained asleep, taking one of your pillows as an adequate replacement for you. You quietly began your morning routine of brewing coffee for yourself, brushing your teeth, and styling your hair. Petunia followed behind you, being the momma’s girl she was. You let her go outside as you got started on preparing breakfast. Normally, you’d make breakfast and coffee for two but you were called for an earlier shoot, barely before sunrise, so Luke would no doubt be asleep for a while.

Finished with breakfast and giving Petunia her required pets and kisses, you went back upstairs to get dressed for the day. You thought you had been relatively quiet, but nonetheless the singer woke up to you, half dressed, on the other side of the room.

“What a sight for sore eyes,” his raspy voice praised.

You turned your head around as you slipped on a pair of pants, rolling your eyes at him. “You should be asleep,” you scolded lightly.

“And you should still be in bed with me,” he reprimanded in the same tone. Luke lazily reached across the bed for you, only short by a few inches.

“I have to be in for an early shoot,” you reminded him. “You know I’d be asleep right beside you if I had the choice.”

Luke groaned, making you laugh as you ruffled his hair similar to how you’d pet Petunia. “Why can’t you call out?” he whined like a toddler.

You kissed his forehead and set for the door. “If I did, I’d be out of a job,” you told him. “Then who would Harry kiss on camera?”

“Not funny!” Luke yelled out as you grabbed the rest of your things and left your home.

“Love you!” you shouted back, closing the door behind you.

Luke rolled over back to his side, grabbing his phone and absentmindedly scrolled through Twitter. He figured that since he was already awake, he might as well look through his notifications before formally getting up.

On Twitter, he realized in the bottom of his screen that he received thousands of tagged mentions. Curious, he clicked on the icon to see multiple photos of you and Harry outside the studio. You two were snuggled under a blanket, far too close for his liking. The smile on your face was one Luke was familiar with because it was the look you always gave him. Jealousy burned in his chest before he realized it.

outofstyles: harry styles and y/n l/n is a pair we didn’t ask for but ended up needing SEVERELY

stylesupdatesdaily: styles-l/n was NOT on my bingo card this year but i am here for it!!! #styles-l/n #wlbumovie

lukehemmingslipring: why are people shipping harry and y/n when she’s been dating luke since way before the SGFG era??? and why am i fucking with it???

y/nismother: @lukehemmingslipring don’t tell me they broke up because if they did love isn’t real :(

y/nismother: @youngblood__irwin SEND THE LINK PLEASE!!!!!

Luke frowned at the back and forth in the comments, as well as additional tweets he was tagged in regarding the Hemmings vs. Styles drama, a drama he didn’t even knew had begun. Frustration and envy brewed inside him despite his strong attempts to fight the urge. He had promised you he wouldn’t get jealous. Hell, he didn’t expect himself to feel this way. He knew you, of course. And he knew Harry very well. In his right mind, he knew there was nothing behind the photos nor your staged romance. But the damn photos and tweets and people raising the question of the stability of his relationship…anger was clouding his mind and he could barely think straight.

–

By the time you got to set, you were rushed into hair and makeup. You were used to the fast paced nature of the studio and settled into your routine with ease. As your hair designers twisted and pulled your hair back to prep for your wig, you saw a familiar figure catch your eye.

“Good morning, darlin’,” Harry greeted with a chaste kiss on your cheek. You snorted at his thick Southern accent he had been practicing all year long. While he had improved significantly, you found that his drastic change from a charming British lad to a cheeky Southern man was still too bizarre to get accustomed to.

“Hello, honey,” you said back in a Chicago accent, remembering to stay still for the dressers to apply your wig. The accent you portrayed was one that your character had, a sharp-tongued divorcee. “Didn’t expect you to come in on time.”

“Love, I’m always on time,” he chuckled, sitting beside you to allow the artists to work their magic. “You’re just cooped up in your trailer doing God knows what with that husband of yours.”

You laughed, eyes shut as your dear friend and makeup artist Alisha applied eyeshadow. “Not my husband,” you corrected him.

“Well you’ve been dating him long enough for him to might as well be,” he joked. “You seriously mean to tell me Hemmings hasn’t put a ring on your finger?” You nodded as much as you could, considering Alisha was very adamant on perfecting your concealer under your eyes. “Well, he’s got to get a move on before I make a move myself.”

The two of you laughed, knowing the banter was light and all jokes. “Careful now, sweetheart,” you said, reverting back to your Chicago accent. “Mr. Hemmings might get a little jealous.”

“Can’t have that now, can we?” he drawled, back in his Southern accent. “But you make such a pretty little wife on screen, how can I resist?”

“You tease!” you exclaimed, clutching your heart and remaining in character. “Mr. McClantire, you know I’m a faithful woman.”

Finished with his makeup, Harry stood up and readjusted his suit jacket. “Mrs. Abernathy, a lady like you should be cherished,” he explained, taking your hand and brushing his lips against his lightly. “I’ll meet you on set.”

You chuckled, taking your hand back to fix your hat your stylist had expertly pinned to your head. “I’ll see you then, Mr. McClantire.”

Leaving you be, Harry left the dressing room and gently closed the door. Alisha clicked her tongue at the British singer turned actor, shaking her head. “Always a tease, isn’t he,” she hummed, applying hair spray liberally. “He better watch himself or the media will end up in a frenzy with his flirtatious attitude.”

“He’s a sweetheart, I know he means no harm,” you defended him, sipping your tea serenely. “I do believe he’s been seeing someone though so I know there’s no weight to his words. But I do admit his habits are going to make Twitter go crazy. Luke has already gotten wind of some of the news and gossip.”

Alisha rested her hand on her hip, lips pursed in thought. “Only a matter of time before he gets jealous,” she mused playfully.

“He won’t,” you said back, not expecting Alisha’s warning.

“Oh honey,” she shook her head. “You know men, they’ll get jealous.”

–

Luke looked at the TV through the mirror reflection in his dressing room as he adjusted his dress shirt’s sleeves. Nearly a while had passed since the finish of filming and it was a matter of days until the movie’s premiere. Your schedule consisted of plenty of interviews and promo events which resulted in more drama tabloids being released about you and Harry. A scowl rested on his

and Harry on the screen talking with the host of the show. You were animatedly telling a story while Harry’s arm rested behind you. Albeit casual, Luke couldn’t help but glare at the gesture.

“If looks could kill, he’d be dead,” Ashton mused from behind the blond singer.

Luke brushed off his comment, turning away from the vanity. “I just wish he’d keep his bloody hands off her,” he muttered enviously.

Calum was distractedly scrolling through his phone on the couch, no doubt bored, waiting for their cue to get on stage. “And sit fifty miles away from her?” he suggested plainly, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Mate, they’re friends, of course they’re going to sit beside each other.”

“But with his arm around her?” Luke pressed impatiently, fighting the urge to run his fingers through his hair. You reminded him constantly before arriving at the studio to not touch his hair. You’d worked so hard to style and gel it while he focused on his makeup. The blond settled for crossing his arms on his chest and tapping his foot.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed with Luke. “He should cut it off,” he joked, dodging Luke’s swat of his hand.

Ashton patted Luke’s shoulder, setting him down on the couch. “Calm down, Luke,” he instructed. “Take some deep breaths or else you’ll pop a vein. I understand how annoying publicists have been with Harry and n/n, but you shouldn’t let them get to you.”

“How can I when they talk about my girl?” Luke seethed, his composure rigid. “They talk about her like she’s a fame chaser, going after Harry for publicity even though she’s been practically an A-lister since she was a kid.” Luke shuffled in his seat, frown permanently on his face.

“Then I hardly see how Harry’s got anything to do with it,” Calum raised an eyebrow.

Luke stood up from the couch as quickly as he had sat down. “Because he’s–he’s–” Luke stumbled over his words. Finding no reasonable excuse, he angrily kicked his foot against the table only to yelp in pain, clutching his foot and jumping up and down. “That fucking pretty boy.”

Michael sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can’t really give into those gossip tablets, can you?” he genuinely asked.

Luke paused, long enough for the boys to shake their heads in disappointment. “It’s the hair!” he lamely blamed, throwing his hands in the air.

The boys’ conversation was interrupted by a set assistant, knocking on the door while opening it. “Five minutes till your performance,” the boy squeaked.

Ashton was the one to speak up for the group. “Thanks, Roberto,” he said gratefully. The moment the boy left, Ashton turned to the boys. “We’re going to discuss this more later after the show. Luke, please be civil with Harry.”

“Says the one who fucked his sis-”

“None of that now,” Ashton cut Michael off, not wanting to rehash his past. “Now let’s get on stage before they have our heads.”

The boys made their way down to the set, hiding discreetly behind the curtains. A frenzy of assistants scurried by, ensuring that the boys had their instruments and everything was perfect before they got on stage.

“Ladies and gentlemen, Five Seconds of Summer!”

The stage manager nodded at the cue, ushering the boys through the entrance. Luke was the first to walk through, waving at the audience and smiling at fans screaming in the back. They got settled on the side stage, instruments in tow as they turned to the host of the night.

“Thank you for having us, Jimmy,” Luke spoke into the mic, trying not to wince at the squealing girls in the crowd. His eyes were trained on you, who had stood up and clapped for the band as they came in. You were now seated, eyes sparkling in excitement.

Jimmy Fallon leaned back in his chair. “We’re glad to have you, Luke,” he responded. “Hope the dressing room wasn’t too snug for your guys?”

“Oh no Jimmy, we quite enjoyed it,” Ashton answered from behind his kit. “Reminds me of the good old days when we’d share Luke’s bedroom to change before filming our performances on YouTube.”

The crowd laughed at Ashton’s quip, Jimmy especially as he shook his head in laughter. “Good to hear,” he said. “And what do you guys have for us today?”

Michael was next to take the lead. “Well initially we thought we were going to perform our song for What Lies Between Us,” he began, followed by more applause and cheering. “But we thought it would be better to leave that for the premiere.”

“Correction: our publicist thought it would be better,” Calum joked, however there was no fabrication behind it; their publicist did think it would be best.

“So we decided to play a song from our album that’s yet to come out,” Michael finished. “Jimmy, this is “Bad Omens.””

The crowd loved the song as much as you did, finding that song to be one of your favorites of the album. Upon finishing the song, the boys set down their instruments for the backstage staff to collect and made their way to the couches.

You and Harry stood up to greet each of them, Harry with a handshake and you with a kiss on the cheek. Luke took your hand, kissing you brightly on the lips before sitting down beside you. Jimmy made a cheeky face, teasingly looking at you and your boyfriend. The crowd chuckled at his behavior and you did the same while Luke kept his hand possessively on your knee.

“Well this is a new development,” Jimmy mused, folding his hands on top of his desk.

You waved off his comment with an airy giggle. “Oh this?” you asked, gesturing between you and Luke. “Old as time.”

“We’ve actually been together for what, a little over ten years now?” Luke explained, glancing over at you with a proud smile. He relished the feeling of the crowd clapping and whooping at your relationship.

Jimmy whistled at Luke’s comment. “And no ring on the finger?” he pressed. “I mean, you’ve had to have thought about it before?”

You nodded reassuringly. “Oh a million times,” you responded. “But God knows that when you deal with one of these boys, you have to deal with all of them.” You jabbed your thumb at the three boys to the left of you, shoving their lanky arms against each other as they tried to get comfortable on their seats. Luke cleared his throat to get their attention, the boys flushed in the face as they quit their quarreling. “I’ve known them since they went on tour with One Direction and we finally ended up dating afterwards. But now, I’m ready to get married and settle down. I’m just waiting on Hemmings, here.”

Luke chuckled at your last comment, seemingly taking them lightly. You furrowed your eyebrows at his reaction, but decided not to act upon it. “She’s very much so anticipating that question, Jimmy,” he confessed. “It’s only a matter of time, but I’m in no hurry. This one, however…” he trailed off, grinning at you.

“A girl has dreams,” you defended yourself.

Jimmy snapped his fingers at your words, a thought coming back to him. “Yes, you certainly do!” he exclaimed, reaching under his desk for a frame as he changed the subject. Confusion and hurt brewed inside you, but you quickly pushed those feelings down. “y/n, you’re not a stranger to dreams, right?”

“Oh, definitely not,” you agreed with a dubious expression on your face.

“So I hope you don’t mind when I show a little memento from the past your mother sent over.”

“Oh God,” you groaned, turning to hide your face in Luke’s shoulder. “What did she send over now? I told you to lose her number, Jimmy.”

Jimmy raised his hands up in surrender. “She makes a great lunch partner,” he defended himself. “y/m/n, if you’re watching tonight, we’re still on for Tuesday?” You rolled your eyes as Harry threw his head back in laughter. “Joking, joking, not really, but-”

“Jimmy,” you said in a warning tone.

“Alright, alright,” he relented. “Anyways, your mother found a letter you wrote back when you were in middle school to the tooth fairy-”

Michael choked on his own saliva, jerking forward. “n/n, you still believed in the tooth fairy when you were in middle school-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Clifford,” you clipped back through your teeth as you smiled rigidly. You still had one last baby tooth in at the time, you still had your hopes out for the mythical creature.

Jimmy raised his hand to cut off the side chatter as he read from the framed letter. “And you, at age thirteen, had one dream that you wished the tooth fairy would grant you.”

“Dear Tooth Fairy,” he read aloud as you crumbled in embarrassment. “I have finally lost my last tooth, so I guess this will be the last letter I can send you.”

“Aww,” the boys gushed in unison, causing you to shoot them an icy glare.

“To end this amazing tooth filled saga, I have one last wish. You see, it’s been my dream to meet One Direction.”

“Jimmy!” you screamed, covering your face in humiliation as the memories started to flood in. Luke covered you in his arms as you folded over yourself, laughing along but equally curious about what was in the letter.

Jimmy, nonetheless, continued reading. “And I have a favorite singer in the band. If you could pull some strings and make Harry Styles my boyfriend, I swear to you I’ll write a letter to you everyday -even though I have no more teeth to give you- and will solemnly swear to be your best friend forever. Let him be my boyfriend, pleaseeeeee.” The audience let out a boisterous laughter as Jimmy emphasized your silly, childish writing. “Love, y/n.”

More clapping filled your ears as you raised your head to face Jimmy. In the corner of your eye, you saw Harry resting casually beside you, facing you as he leaned against the couch.

“I’m flattered,” Harry told you, an amused smile resting on his lips.

You pressed your lips in a straight line. “Thanks, Har,” you deadpanned.

He patted your shoulder in a friendly manner. “No, it’s real sweet,” he reassured you. “Truly, cute, even.”

“That’s not all we have,” Jimmy spoke up as he put away your framed letter. He waved off your groans and complaints. “It’s not bad, not bad. I’m sure you all remember the Golden Globes back in 2012 when y/n made her first appearance in the hit TV show, The Last Elites of Cardenia.”

The crowd cheered as a photo of you as a child appeared on the screen. It was a shot of you in the show, dressed up in your furs and pearls as per your character, Cecilia. The next photo was of you on the red carpet with your show family. Your braces were highly visible in your smile, making you wince at the rough photo.

“I loved that show,” Ashton sighed, full of nostalgia. “Cal, Michael, and I would binge that show every night after concerts.”

“You didn’t watch it, Luke?” Jimmy asked curiously.

Luke sheepishly shook his head. “No, I didn’t,” he answered honestly.

“I’m offended, babe,” you teased, your hand over your heart in mock offense.

Michael snorted. “It’s not like he didn’t like the show,” he told you. “He just could barely follow the storyline whenever you popped up on screen.”

The boys gave Luke playful punches as he blushed. “I-I couldn’t help it!” he exclaimed. “You were just so cute on screen, you were my celebrity crush for the longest time. I mean you were a right entitled bitch in the show but meeting you in real life, I just was-“

“So down bad,” Ashton finished for him. Luke was about to correct him but you were quick to cut him off.

“Baby,” you cooed, pinching his cheek.

Jimmy laughed along with the conversation, pointing towards the screen as he spoke. “Speaking of celebrity crushes,” he continued. “We have this old footage of you on the red carpet answering some questions.”

The day was bright as you appeared on the screen. A youthful innocence covered your entire self, from the way you gathered yourself to your voice. A woman was behind the camera, only her hand holding the microphone could be seen.

“And who might you be?” the woman asked you.

You smiled brightly. “I’m y/n!” you chirped. “y/n l/n but most people know me as Cecilia from The Last Elites of Cardenia.”

“Nice to meet you, y/n, I’m Mei,” the woman greeted, shaking your hand. “This is your first time here at the Golden Globes, how are you feeling?”

“Oh, I’m sooo excited, Mei,” you answered honestly and giddily. You could hardly stand still. “My mom picked my outfit today so I’m feeling very confident and pretty!”

“And who do you want to see most today?”

You cocked your head in thought. “Harry Styles!” you exclaimed. “I heard One Direction’s going to be at the after party, so I really hope to see him. He’s my biggest celebrity crush,” you gushed unabashedly.

The clip ended and everyone turned to you, where you were frozen and wide-eyed.

“Where the hell do you find this stuff, Jimmy,” you sighed, face palming annoyedly.

“Oh, the vault, you know,” Jimmy responded cheekily. “But that leaves us wondering how you feel now, starring alongside your celebrity crush in the film “What Lies Between Us?””

You tapped your chin. Harry glanced over at you. “Be honest, darling,” he reminded you in a sing-songy voice.

“Well I can definitely say that my teenage self is absolutely losing her mind,” you answered. “It’s something out of a dream, if you think about it. I mean, I never knew I’d come far enough to star in a highly anticipated movie, nevertheless star alongside Harry. It’s a blessing, surely, but now, I think that fangirl side of me has been laid to rest.”

Jimmy turned to your boyfriend. “And what do you think, Luke?”

The musician gave the host a close lipped smile. “Whatever makes n/n happy,” he settled brusquely.

Jimmy, satisfied with his response, began asking questions for the other boys about touring and their music. You whipped your head around and raised an eyebrow at Luke for his short response, but Luke didn’t make eye contact with you. Concerned, you reached for his hand on his knee but he pulled back, folding his hands together. Never had you felt more confused and isolated than you did at that moment. You used to be able to read his mind, but now it felt like he’d closed his mind in walls you couldn’t seem to get past.

–

“What was that about?” you demanded, following closely behind Luke as you walked into your shared home.

After that awkward end to the show with Jimmy Fallon, you, Harry, and the boys went out to dinner. You thought that moment with Luke was just a one-off thing, but he remained in his rigid composure for the rest of the night. The boys would talk boisterously throughout the dinner, sharing stories of the past tours with One Direction and catching up on life afterwards. But Luke was the only one who remained silent, opting to focus on his glass of red wine he never seemed to finish. You made attempts to speak to Luke, nudging him or trying to meet his eyes from across the table but he refused to look up the entire time. Frustrated, you let it be but it was clear you were upset to the rest of the table. Harry had even pulled you aside after you all paid for your meals, asking if things were alright and if he had overstepped at all. You reassured him he did nothing wrong, it was Luke who was being childish at the moment.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he brushed you off, heading upstairs to your bedroom. He removed his suit jacket and started unbuttoning his dress shirt nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t done anything wrong or pissed you off.

You entered the bedroom, heels kicked off as you crossed your arms on your chest. “Let me refresh your mind,” you spat. “You’ve been nothing but rotten towards Harry and I tonight. What’s gotten into you? I thought you said you wouldn’t get jealous-”

“And I’m not,” Luke fought back. “God, you can be so conceited sometimes, y/n.”

“So that’s what it is?” you snapped back. “I’m just being self-centered and your head isn’t stuck up your ass?”

Luke aggressively pulled his sleeves up, leaving half of his buttons undone while placing his hands on his hips. “Yes, it would appear so,” he answered shortly. “You’re overthinking what’s going on, y/n, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Do not gaslight me, Luke Hemmings,” you ordered, walking up to him to stand chest to chest. “I know your mother taught you enough for you to know that is not the way to go when arguing with me.” Luke huffed, giving in on that one statement because you were right; he did know better.

“Fine,” he muttered. “I am upset. And I have every reason to. I don’t like how close you and Harry have gotten, okay?”

Your jaw dropped in utter shock. “You mean my coworker?” you clarified sarcastically. “I’d hope I’d be close with him considering we’re playing lovers in the damn movie-”

“There you go again!” Luke’s voice boomed across the room, throwing his hands in the air. “You and Harry being lovers. Sometimes I’m led to believe it’s more than for the movie with the photos I’ve seen and the mere way you act with him.”

“Luke, I have no idea what to tell you,” you fumed. “We are acting. I have no romantic feelings for him and he has none for me. He’s seeing someone, for crying out loud! I thought you had enough trust in me to know nothing is going on between me and him.”

“I do trust you,” he argued. “But you couldn’t possibly look me dead in the eye and tell me you didn’t have romantic feelings at all during filming. You have been crushing on him for far too long for that to just go away.”

You hesitated, your face burning with frustration and humiliation. You hated to admit there was some truth to his statement. “I-I,” you stumbled over your words.

Luke’s nostrils flared as he glared at you, proving his point exactly. You threw your hands in the air. “He was a celebrity crush from when I was a teenager, Luke!” you shouted exasperatedly. “I had a little crush, that was it! And maybe it resurfaced a little at the beginning but I swear to you I don’t have those feelings anymore. It was a childish crush, Luke, you’ve got to believe me when I say that. I love you.”

Tears lined both of your eyes as you went to reach for his hand. Your thumb grazed his ring, the one you bought for him for your first anniversary. “I really don’t know,” Luke whispered, slowly pulling his hand away.

Your heart shattered at his words, falling to the ground you stood on. You had dedicated ten years of your life to this man, ten of the best years of your life to him. You grew up with him, made the best and worst mistakes of your lives, and survived all of that together. He was your person, your lover, your one being that you’d lay down your life for. Yet, the moment your relationship is tested, he falters. But you couldn’t blame him. One little crush resurfacing, and that managed to wipe out everything you ever created for yourself over the past decade.

You took a deep breath, fighting the urge to fall over and sob on the ground. Your hands opened and closed into fists as you took a step back. “Fine,” you said, shaky and uncertain. Luke almost caved at your voice, the mere way you spoke. You had always carried yourself with dignity and confidence. He was the one who stripped you of that, and you were just a shell of who you once were.

“I think I’m going to spend the night at Crys’s,” you told him, walking over to your closet and pulling out a bag. “It’s clear we both need space and time apart.”

Luke shook his head, taking your wrist. “Don’t do that,” he said. “Your premiere is in two days, you’re going to be worn out and exhausted if you don’t sleep right. I’ll head over to Cal’s and you can stay here.”

Taking back your wrist, you continued to pack your things. “It’s your house, Luke,” you reminded him. “Don’t worry, I’ll be okay spending the night with Crys and Michael.”

“Don’t bother them,” Luke insisted. “They’ve been busy building the nursery for when they plan on trying for a baby and-”

You winced at his words. He didn’t understand how much he hurt you with them, where he was only looking out for their sake and not yours. Realizing the deeper meaning behind his words, Luke tried to correct himself when you just raised your hand to stop him. He had said enough for the night, and so had you.

“I’ll find a hotel,” you finally decided. Luke was silent, heart aching and yearning for you, but too frozen to speak up and do anything about it. Finished packing, you zipped up your bag and turned back to him. “Goodnight, Lukey,” you said, kissing him on the cheek before leaving the house entirely.

Driving down the streets of L.A. you managed to find a small hotel on the side of the road that looked safe enough to spend the night. Carrying your bag, you pathetically entered the hotel in your dress from the late night show and a pair of flat shoes you slipped on before leaving. Your hair was no doubt a mess, no longer styled to perfection as Alisha once had it. Your mascara was probably running down your face, too. God, you looked like a mess in front of this poor worker.

The boy lifted his eyes to meet yours, slowly recognizing who you were but deciding to not speak on it. You looked like you had gone through enough tonight. “Room for one?” he asked you. You wordlessly nodded, rummaging through your bag to find your wallet for ID and your card. Handing them to the worker, you kept your gaze on your bag. In the process, you found your phone and checked your notifications.

Lukey <;3: please let me know when you arrive safely

You: im here now

Lukey <;3: okay, love. use the card i gave you to pay for your room

You: no, it’s fine.

You left the conversation at that, not caring if it were dry. You were exhausted and didn’t want to fight with him anymore. You had no more fight in you to give him.

The boy behind the desk handed you back your things along with your key card for the night. “Let me know if you need anything at all to improve your stay,” he told you politely.

You fought the urge to scoff at the boy. Like you could do anything to improve your stay, tonight was hell as it is. But you reminded yourself it wasn’t his fault you were arguing with the love of your life; it was yours. Thanking him quietly, you made your way to your room and tossed your bag on the foot of your bed, tucking yourself in next, still in your evening wear. You didn’t care if you’d ruin your dress or damage your face from leaving your makeup on overnight. It was too much for you to deal with right now.

Lukey <;3: goodnight, y/n

read 2:43 am

–

The next two days were utter torture for Luke. He kept contact with you through it all, ensuring that you had eaten, slept, etc. but that was all you’d tell him. Luke couldn’t decide whether or not he was grateful for your shortness with your words, if it would make him cave and go to you and forget everything or make him more upset. He was grateful he had your location still on his phone, and you had his. At least he could check on you and make sure you were alright and not in any trouble.

Luke was also guilty of checking if you had gone to Harry’s house. Guilt and upset rumbled in his stomach, as he felt like he crossed a boundary and invaded your privacy. But how could he not be curious about your whereabouts when you had confessed to him you still had some feelings toward Harry? It didn’t matter that you said those feelings came and went. What would happen if you tied the knot and you changed your mind about him?

Luke had trusted you with his life. He took your word as true most of the time, but now he was unsure. He wasn’t sure where he lied with you now. He loved you still, yes, and he’d still sacrifice his own happiness for you. Perhaps he blew things over proportion between the two of you. You swore you still loved him and no longer felt anything for Harry. But why did Luke still feel something wrong in his chest?

He still had mixed feelings about your argument on the night of your premiere. Luke was in Ashton’s living room, quietly sipping on a beer as he waited for the rest of the band and their significant others to meet them there to travel to the theater together.

Ashton slipped on his jacket, entering the room and looking over at his friend. “y/n not joining us tonight, mate?” he asked. He knew what had happened those nights ago. He was the first person Luke called the moment you left, staying on the phone with him until five in the morning. You had even called him later that day to ask for his advice. He was grateful you both thought of him as an older brother figure, and he wanted nothing more than to get you both together to talk through it.

Luke set his bottle down, not wanting to get drunk on your important night. “No,” he replied with a heaved sigh. “She texted me that she’ll get there on her own because Alisha wanted to do her hair and makeup.”

Ashton sat down beside him, patting his back. “That’s good she’s still talking to you, right?” he brought up, trying to look on the bright side.

“Only because I made her swear to keep me updated,” he grumbled. “If it weren’t for that, I think she’d block my number.”

“Now that’s not true,” Ashton told him seriously.

Luke shrugged his shoulders. “I practically told her I didn’t trust her anymore,” he said, ashamed of himself. “But it’s fair, isn’t it? I knew in my stomach that there was something going on between her and Harry.”

“But there wasn’t,” Ashton reminded him. “She said her feelings toward Harry resurfaced, but she didn’t act on them in any way.”

“But what if one day she wakes up and realizes she can do so much better than me?” Luke asked, voice cracking. He didn’t want to think about that, but that’s all his mind would conjure. “Then she’ll leave me for him and I’ll be the idiot that was strung along the whole time.”

Ashton leaned back on his sofa. “I think you owe y/n more credit than that,” he said. “She loves you, she said so herself. And if she really wanted Harry, she wouldn’t have fought for you like she did.”

“You’re right,” Luke supposed. “I just feel so guilty now.”

“You can talk to her after the premiere,” Ashton settled. “Trust me, she wants to talk to you, too.”

The two were interrupted by Ashton’s door swinging open to reveal the remaining boys and their significant others. Ready to go, Ashton and Luke joined them outside to hop into Michael’s car.

Luke got settled in the back seat, reaching for his seat belt when Crystal turned around to face him. “How are you holding up, bub?” she asked, a comforting smile on her face.

He grimaced but tilted his head in response. “Definitely could be better,” he said earnestly. “But Ash helped me through it.”

Crystal reached behind her to pat his knee soothingly. “I’m glad,” she said. “y/n’s the same. I stopped by her hotel this morning to catch up on things.”

“And she’s okay?” Luke leaned in, interested in learning anything about your whereabouts and how you’re doing.

Crystal put on the same expression as Luke. “About the same as you,” she responded. “But don’t worry, everything will work out in the end.”

Luke braved a smile. “I hope so.”

—

The carpet leading up to the theater was packed with reporters and photographers trying to get a glimpse of the actors featured in the film. The band was far behind, stuck in the traffic of people stopping them to ask a few questions.

“Boys!” a man called out. “Over here! I’m here with Vanity Fair.”

The boys shared a glance and went up to the man. “My name is Aamir and I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about tonight.”

Michael stood in the front, taking Aamir’s extra microphone. “Let’s hear them!”

“This is the first time your music is being featured in a movie as big as this,” Aamir stated. “How are you all feeling?”

Calum drew in a breath, deciding to take this question. “I mean, how can we feel?” he responded. “It’s a mix of feelings, I can tell you that. I think on behalf of the band, we’re all just really nervous but excited to put out this music for the film. It’s really different from our typical kind of music, but we hope you all love it the same.”

“I’m sure we’ll all love what you have in store for us,” Aamir said confidently. “Luke, how are you feeling tonight? It’s a big moment for your girlfriend, y/n l/n, as this is her first lead role in a highly anticipated movie. Can you give us an insight on how y/n is feeling and how you both prepared for tonight?”

Luke tried to not let his rigidity and awkwardness show on camera. There was enough dubious press about the two of you after that show with Jimmy Fallon. “I’m sure she’s over the moon about tonight,” he answered, eyes flickering to the camera. “She’s been so excited for this moment and all her hard work has come down to tonight.”

“And how have you prepared together?” Aamir repeated his second question with curiosity as to why Luke didn’t answer in the first place.

Luke bit his lip, trying to answer without showing he was completely unsure. “Well-“

Cheers erupted from the crowd as a limo approached the carpet. Luke thanked God for that distraction because everyone -including himself- turned to see what the commotion was about.

You stepped outside of the car, dressed in a long white gown that resembled a wedding dress. Luke could only describe you as ethereal as you shyly waved to the photographers and interviewers. He’d never seen you so shy in public, since you’d been in front of the cameras since you were a child. Your eyes were trained on the ground, a shaky smile on your face that didn’t quite reach your eyes.

Reporters shouted at you, desperate to get a word or two with you. Dazed by the flashing lights and loud noises, you took a step forward to where the people were blocked by a gate. In your nervous stature, you began to tremble, hands reaching out for stability but struggling to do so. Your ankle gave way, causing you to fall to the ground. People shouted and “ooh’ed” but no one ran in to help you.

Rushing forward, Luke ran over to you and wrapped his arm securely around your waist as he guided you back up. You gasped, looking up at your savior and realizing who it was. His name was on your lips but no sound could come out; you were too shocked to say anything since you hadn’t formally spoken to him in days.

Luke gave you a reassuring smile, eyes glancing down at your lips to silently ask for permission to kiss you. You nodded, allowing him to cup the side of your face to kiss you softly. The moment your lips met his, you felt yourself get regrounded. Knowing he was by your side, you felt like yourself again: more confident.

The press ate up yours and Luke’s stunt, taking photos left and right of the two of you. You pulled away, your hand on his chest and feeling his heart beat quickly. “Thank you,” you whispered. Luke gave you a small nod but remained silent as he led you to the reporters.

A young woman caught your attention, pointing her microphone in your direction. “Are you alright, y/n?” she asked you, camera pointed at you. “I’m Irina with TMZ. We’re happy to see you tonight!”

Nerves began to creep in as you drew a blank at her question. Luke’s hand squeezed your hip comfortingly, providing you with the stability and strength you needed to get through the event. Nodding to yourself, you opened your mouth to answer.

“I’m doing great, thank you,” you answered. “Just some first premiere nerves but they never killed anyone! I’m just really grateful Luke was here to save me from that little trip there.”

Irina pointed her microphone at Luke, who was taken aback but spoke nonetheless. “Anything for my girl,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders. “It’s her big night and I’m her biggest supporter. She’s my rock for concerts, I’m her rock for premieres. We have each other’s backs.”

Your eyes were stuck on Luke, mesmerized by his face and how his eyelids glistened in the light from his eyeshadow, no doubt from the palette you gifted him on his birthday last year. The corners of your lips quirked upwards, a warm and fuzzy feeling growing in your chest as you looked up at him with pride and love. You almost didn’t hear the interviewer’s final question.

“y/n, it’s been all over social media how you had a long standing crush on your co-lead, Harry Styles,” Irina stated. You felt Luke’s hand tighten around your hip without him realizing, no doubt irritated by that question. “How did it feel to kiss him and perform in intimate scenes with him?”

As you opened your mouth to respond, Luke cut in. “Respectfully,” he began. “I think y/n’s work goes far beyond who she kissed or who she did what with. She’s been in the film industry for as long as I can remember, and definitely deserves more questions that dive deeper than who she harbors romantic feelings for.”

The interviewer’s face flushed in embarrassment. “Of course,” she agreed, rushing to apologize. You simply waved her off, politely excusing both yourself and Luke out of the conversation with grace.

Luke remained by your side as you made your way through the reporters and photographers, staying silent unless asked a question. You thought he wouldn’t look at you from the way his eyes never met yours -except for when he kissed you, of course- but in fact, he had stared at you the entire time you spoke. Nothing but adoration filled his mind when he listened to you speak about the work you worked so hard to make. It made all of your past problems fade to gray, and he nearly forgot about your whole argument.

Once you entered the theater, you expected Luke to pull away to find the boys but he didn’t. You stopped in your tracks to turn to him. “You can go back to the boys now,” you whispered gently to him.

Luke was taken by surprise at your words, and hurt flashed across his face. “Do you want me to go?” he asked you.

You were quick to shake your head. “No!” you rushed. “I just thought…you know, it’s your big day, too. I figured you’d want to spend it with them.”

The blond took your hands in his and kissed them softly. “I want to be by your side through it all,” he assured you. “I haven’t seen you in days, and I don’t want a petty fight to get between us and celebrating your greatest achievement.”

Your publicity manager approached you, checking her watch every second or so anxiously. “The movie’s about to start,” she reminded you hurriedly.

You were about to tell her to give you both a few minutes, but Luke stopped you. “We can talk more later, okay?” he said. You agreed wordlessly, leaning in to give him a quick peck on the lips.

“Let’s go in together, babe,” you decided. Luke resumed his position beside you, entering the theater together proudly to watch the film the both of you dedicated so much time and effort into. And as Luke took your hand while you both sat in your seats, you knew that everything would be okay in the end.

–

Once the movie had ended, Harry invited you and the boys to his home for the afterparty but you politely declined, opting to spend the rest of the night with your beloved boyfriend.

Now, you and Luke took a walk around the finally quieted city, hand in hand. You were grateful you brought another pair of shoes with you because your heels were killing you, and you were more thankful for Luke who insisted on holding your strappy heels for you as you continued your walk.

“I really can’t thank you enough for saving my neck there on the carpet,” you said in a slightly teasing tone. “I would have actually melted into the floor if you didn’t come to my aid.”

“I meant what I said when I said I always had your back, y/n,” Luke replied, eyes trained on the sidewalk.

A pregnant silence followed as you made your way through the city, taking in the lights and cool summer air without any fear of paparazzi following close behind you. You found yourself nervously playing with the rings on Luke’s fingers as you tried to find the right words to say.

“I’m sorry for that night,” you began, avoiding his questioned gaze. “I should have been more open to you about how I felt from the beginning, but I really do promise that I don’t have any feelings for him. Not anymore, at least. It was a teenage dream come true, but…”

Luke raised an eyebrow at you. “But?” he pressed gently.

You stopped walking, turning to cup his cheek affectionately. “But that’s not my dream anymore,” you finished. “My dream is to spend the rest of my life with you by my side. Whether or not you decide to marry me, I want you in my life for all the good, the bad, and the ugly. I’m really sorry for ever making you doubt my love for you, and I’m sorry for not being receptive to your doubts and insecurities.”

“What makes you think I don’t wanna marry you?” he asked you. “Of course I do. I want to see you walk down that aisle with a dress as giant or as small as you want, as long as you become Mrs. Hemmings at the end of it. Or if you don’t want to take my last name, that’s fine, too. I don’t care if you want a big or small wedding or a wedding at all. If you want to take that oath in the townhouse and officially be mine -and I, yours- I’m perfectly okay with that, too.”

You bit your lip, trying to fight back your tears. “I was just nervous,” you confessed. “I knew you were upset by those questions about me and Harry, but I was upset, too. I just never told you how upset I was.” A stray tear trickled down your face but you stubbornly wiped it away, not wanting to cry. “We’ve been together for ten wonderful years, and all people would ask me is “when are you getting married?” “when is he going to propose?” And at first, I was fine with it. But the more people asked, the more anxious I was about the stability of our relationship.”

When Luke’s face gave away he wasn’t exactly following what you meant, you continued to explain further. “I’ve read so many tweets and articles about how undesirable I am, from the moment I turned sixteen. And the fact that you kept pushing off the idea of us getting married,” you looked away, embarrassed by your reaction to all of this. “It hurts, Lukey. And I know marriage isn’t a thing to rush into and I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want, but those drama tabloids just make me feel so insecure.”

“I didn’t know you felt that way,” Luke frowned, pity settling in, but you waved your hand to brush it off.

“It’s stupid,” you decided, wiping away the extra tears that managed to escape. “I’ve always told you not to give into the press and social media, yet here I am doing that very thing. L-let’s focus on you, Luke.”

“We can talk about my stupid jealousy another time,” Luke fought to stay on topic. “y/n, why didn’t you tell me you were feeling like this? If I had known, I would have said something-”

“But that’s not how proposals work, Lukey!” you exclaimed. “It’s not something you do out of pity. It’s a decision you make when you’re sure and you’re not! That’s okay, I don’t want you to make a decision you’ll only end up regretting just to please me in the present.”

Luke took your hand in his, forcing you to look up at him. “Why do you think I’d ever regret marrying you?” he questioned. “y/n, you’re the love of my life. You’re definitely not my first girlfriend but I intend for you to be my last. You’re it for me, n/n. I do want to marry you and I intended to propose, I just wanted to find the right time and place for it. As for my behavior the past few months,” he sighed. “It wasn’t right of me to villainize you and Harry. You’re friends and coworkers, of course you’re going to get close. And I knew that the press would twist the narrative to make it seem like you guys were more than friends. I should have felt secure enough in our relationship to trust you completely, but I was also too insecure to let that be.

“Harry’s great. He’s talented, a better singer than I’ll ever be, and kind hearted. I’ve always felt like I was in his shadow, and seeing him with you made me feel self-conscious all over again. And all those news posts about him being your celebrity crush as a child made me angrier. I know it’s not something I should have blamed you for, I was just so jealous I could barely think straight.”

Luke stepped closer to you, his breath grazing your face. “I’m sorry for being jealous and ever doubting you,” he said honestly. “I should have trusted you when you said you no longer felt anything for him.”

“I’m sorry for brushing you off and not listening,” you said in response. “I promise you, Luke, you’re it for me, too.”

Luke choked back a laugh of disbelief, grateful for this whole ordeal getting resolved as he bent down to kiss you deeply. Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer to finally taste him, smell him, feel him again.

Once you pulled back for air, you crinkled your nose as you smiled. “Does this mean we’re engaged?” you asked curiously, eyes sparkling with happiness and love. “You know, since we’re in agreement and everything.”

“I would have preferred to get down on one knee and that whole spiel,” Luke sighed dramatically. “But yes, I do suppose we are engaged.”

Grinning, you pulled him back down for another kiss. “We can get to that sappy stuff later,” you insisted. “I just want to spend the rest of my night with my husband-to-be.”

thank you so much for reading! please like and reblog if you enjoyed! <3

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