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zepskies · 16 days

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Lesson Learned

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: There’s only so much teasing Ben is willing to take. He has no choice but to punish you.

AN: Here we go! lol. This is the highly requested Part 2 to This One’s For You, over in the BMD-verse!

Word Count: 2.2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, edging, teasing, fluff, and feels.

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

You gasped, your nails raking through his hair. Your grip threatened to rip out a few strands as you panted into his neck.

“Ben, please…for God’s sake…”

“Please what?” he said. There was grit in his voice when he spoke into your ear, but he was all too controlled. Taunting.

Asshole.

He was relentless, dragging his fingers inside your quivering pussy, rubbing his thumb around your clit, but almost never where you wanted him. Your thighs were shaking on either side of his frame as he had you naked on your back, writhing in the middle of your shared bed. You’d sucked him off until his spine rattled and his eyes nearly crossed, swallowing up as much as you could of what he had to give.

Still, he wasn’t satisfied.

“I’m sorry!” you burst in frustration, but you also had to stifle your laughter. Your husband narrowed his eyes at you, spying the hint of your smile.

“How come I don’t fucking believe you?” said Ben. With his elbow digging into the bed beside your shoulder, his occupied fingers curled inside you, finally brushing against the sensitive ridge of your inner walls. It drew a faltering moan from your lips.

“What exactly are you sorry for?” he demanded. He bowed his head and laid a biting kiss along your throat. “Use your fucking words.”

You exhaled roughly, gripping his hair tight again. Now that he couldn’t see your face, you could allow yourself to grin in amusement.

Three Days Ago…

Ben was tired and more irritable than usual when he stepped into the Flatiron Building. The night before had been a battle of wills between him and his infant daughter, who’d been finnicky, having a hard time going back to sleep. He’d done his best to help her get back to sleep, since you had been dead to the world and unable to leave the bed (or so you’d seemed).

Now, he took the elevator up to the right floor and used his key to get into the office suite, where Butcher and the rest of your delinquent friends were already dicking around.

Some horrible French rap was playing on the Bluetooth speaker. Kimiko was flicking tiny pieces of paper across the dining table, into a “goal” made by Hughie’s hands. Frenchie wore a “Kiss the Cook” apron as he pulled a fresh batch of croissants out of the oven in the kitchenette, while M.M. swept the excess flour stains off the counter.

Annie was trying to get Butcher to smoke his cigarette out on the balcony.

“Really, you had fucking cancer. You’d think you’d try a little harder to take care of yourself,” she said. Butcher gave her a wan smile, and blew a coil of smoke upward between them.

“Nice,” she said flatly.

But all that stopped when Ben strode into the room. They stared at him, each starting to smile, no matter how much some of them tried to hide it (like Kimiko, with a hand over her mouth).

“What the fuck’re you staring at?” Ben snapped. “We got a job, right?”

Butcher cleared his throat and recovered first. He dabbed his cigarette on an ashtray on the dining table and grabbed an iPad to give to the supe.

“Yeah, got us an escapee. Our little slumlord, Sapphire,” he said.

Ben frowned. Sapphire was the supe who nearly vaporized you a couple of years ago, after they broke up her drug ring. While he read the file documenting detailing her escape and what the CIA knew of her whereabouts so far, Hughie shared a look with Kimiko and Annie before he spoke.

“So, uh, how’s Lila doing?”

Ben shot him a look through furrowed brows.

“Fine. She’s with her mother,” he replied. Hughie predictably asked about you, and again, Ben said you were fine at home with the baby.

“Lila’s almost a year old, right?” Hughie asked. “Aw man, that’s gotta be a fun age, right? I mean, fun, but challenging. All the crying, the diaper changing. Getting her to sleep through the night must be tough.”

Ben’s attention piqued at that, and not in a good way. His dark suspicion grew when his gaze flicked up to Hughie’s dumb fucking face, and then the rest of them, with their dumbass smiles. Biting her lip to stop herself from smiling, Annie pressed a button on her phone.

All of a sudden, Ben heard his own voice playing from the speaker.

“H-Hey there, Delilah, what’s it like in New York City?”

“Now ain’t that a lovely warble,” Butcher remarked. Ben shot him a warning glare, but the Brit raised his hands in amused surrender. He crossed his arms and continued to smoke as he watched the scene unfold.

Ben tossed the iPad onto the kitchen counter and strode over to Annie with menacing steps, intending to put an end to this bullshit. She grinned and tossed her phone over to Kimiko, and Ben glowered, changing directions.

“I'm a thousand miles away, but girl, tonight you look so pretty. Yes, you do. Time Square can’t shine as bright as you…I swear it’s true.”

Kimiko’s eyes widened at the angry supe heading toward her. She tossed the phone to Frenchie next. The phone bounced between his flour-stained hands as he yelped in surprise.

“Oh, shit,” he uttered, when Ben began stomping his way.

“Hey there, Delilah, don't you worry about the distance. I'm right there if you get lonely. Give this song another listen…”

“A voice like warm butter,” Frenchie praised. He quickly tried to move from side to side to evade his attacker. “You should be proud, Monsiuer Grincheux! A man soothing his baby is a beautiful thing.”

“Shut your fucking cockhole,” Ben gritted out, but he still reached out when the phone sailed under his arm—only to land in M.M.’s hands. He froze with widened eyes, not wanting to be in the game. But it was too late, for him and Ben.

“Hey there, Delilah, here’s to you,” his voice sang, more quietly, more tender, deep and baritone. “This one’s for you…”

A brief pause. And then—

“What the fuck’re you doing?”

M.M. managed to pause the video. A beat of utter silence, and then...

Everyone burst out into laughter. Hughie started it; he was damn near folded in half, leaning heavily on his girlfriend as he wiped a tear out of his eye. M.M. tossed the phone back to Frenchie, whose entire frame was shaking with restrained glee.

Ben’s jaw worked as he contemplated how exactly he was going to kill every one of these cocksucking morons.

And then you. Because how else had they gotten that video? You had to have sent it somehow before he got ahold of you last night.

“All right, enough!” he bellowed.

The entire room fell silent.

“First of all, erase that shit right now, or it’s coming out your ass,” he barked, pointing at Frenchie. The other man jolted and did as he was told.

“As for the rest of you, I better not hear another fucking word about this, or so help me Christ, I’m gonna do some barbecuing.”

About three days later, Sapphire had been caught and re-imprisoned, and Ben returned home. He found you in the living room. He was taciturn to your happy smile when you welcomed him with a hug around his waist, though your smile fell after he didn’t respond to your kiss.

He slowly lowered his gaze down to you, and you knew.

Biting your lip, you soothed a hand along his cheek. “So, how’d it go?”

“Fine,” he said, but little else.

In fact, Ben didn’t speak to you for most of the evening. You tried cooking him a good hot meal, but he barely said two words to you. The only thing he did, before he was even showered and changed, was venture into the nursery to lay a gentle hand on his daughter’s head as she slept, over her downy brown hair. He bent down to press a kiss to her forehead.

After that, he strode past you in the doorway and slammed the door shut in the bathroom.

Aw shit. Despite yourself, you couldn’t help chortling with laughter. You should’ve known he’d be a great big man child about this.

So you decided to call your mom and see if she could take Lila for the night.

You had some damage control to do.

Now…

He'd brought you to the edge of your pleasure three times before he withdrew his mouth or his hand from your body, not letting you touch yourself, not letting you come—driving you to the point of frustrated tears.

You grabbed his head with both hands and guided him to look you in the eyes.

“Baby, please. Stop torturing me,” you pleaded. You used every tool in your arsenal to make him break, giving him soft, tearful eyes. You leaned up and pressed gentle kisses to his cheek, his chin, the corner of his mouth, and finally his lips.

“I need you,” you whispered, drawing him into deeper, messier kisses. Part of him started to falter. He briefly closed his eyes and breathed into your kiss.

But then, he stubbornly broke from you with a frown.

“Nice try. You’re not getting off that easy,” he said. “Now say it. Why the fuck are you sorry?”

You huffed in aggravation, but you twined your arms around his neck and brushed slightly sweaty strands of his hair away from his forehead.

“I’m sorry for embarrassing you,” you said, even though your mouth began to curve upward. “It was a sweet thing you did, and I’m glad I captured it. But I am sorry that sharing that moment with our friends bothers you so much.”

“First of all, they’re your idiot friends,” he said. You wanted to interject on that one, but you knew he wasn’t in the mood, and you didn’t want to fight with him for real.

“Second of all,” he began…but he didn’t have any more words after that. They were caught between his irritation, and his unwillingness to even voice what it was he felt. Eventually, he found them.

“There’s some shit that needs to stay between us,” he said.

You smiled, but you mercifully drew him down for another slow kiss.

“Okay, okay. I hear you. It’s not that big a deal though. You love your family, and look! Your macho-ness is still very much intact,” you said, gesturing at his very much hard cock pressing against your thigh. “Now are you gonna fuck me like a man, or do I need to find a vibrator that will?”

At that Ben looked down at you with a raise of his brows. His lips twitched, mostly at your audacity. Shaking his head, he slid a hand behind your neck and drew you in for a kiss, fueled by passion and frustration in equal measure.

You wrapped your thighs around his hips, urging him closer. His straining length pressed against your center, the wet tip slipping against your glistening folds. He groaned at the sensation.

“Please,” you repeated, licking into his mouth for a sensuous kiss.

The once-iron grip on his restraint finally broke. Ben slid a hand between you to hold himself to your entrance. With one smooth thrust, his cock buried deep inside you. Your moan of relief echoed his own. If nothing else good came out of this situation, you two hadn’t had the time or the energy to go at it like this in a long time.

He grabbed your thigh and angled you higher, so he could sink in at an even better angle as he began to rut into you.

With all of his earlier edging and teasing, you were already so close. Your inner walls fluttered around him, welcoming him home and gripping him tight. All it took was a few well-placed swipes of his thumb over your clit to have you tumbling over the edge—a delicious cresting of pleasure that made you arch off the bed, biting your nails into his shoulders, a cry caught in your throat.

Ben fucked you through your release, all while chasing his own. His grip on your hip tightened as his thrusts grew ragged, his own breathing shallow and rough, until his balls tightened and his body locked up on him. He spent himself inside you, coating your inner walls until he had nothing left.

He just barely managed to keep himself from smothering you as his body relaxed. You still welcomed his weight on you, soothing your hands up and down his back while you both caught your breath. Your thighs slipped from his hips, your feet meeting bed and sliding out a little.

Ben brushed your sweaty hair away from your face. Looking down on you now, his face gentled from its hardened angles and furrowed brows. You smiled lazily.

“Still mad at me?” you teased.

Ben resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Instead, he let out a rough exhale through his nose.

“Something tells me you didn’t learn your lesson,” he said, somewhat incredulous, and yet, amused.

Your smile was undoubtedly cheeky, even as you leaned up to give him a sweeter kiss.

“Sure did, baby,” you said against his lips. And another kiss. “Lesson learned, I promise.”

He really did roll his eyes this time.

AN: 😂 Ben just can't win, can he?

Translation: Monsiuer Grincheux - "Mr. Grumpy" in French

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Coming up next, Ben has his Adventures in Babysitting moment in Green:

Summary: Ben spends the day alone with his daughter, to varying degrees of success. When you get home, it prompts a serious conversation.

▶️ Keep Reading: Green

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julieloves074 · 1 year

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Everything (Conrad Fisher x Y/n)

Summary: Y/n had won the battle against cancer at the age of ten but no one expected it to come back. When the truth comes to light the perfect summer crashes down around them. Especially for Conrad, Y/n is his love, his life, his everything

Warnings: Cancer, sadness, swearing, angst

Words: 7.4K

(Not my GIF :))

Summer in Cousins was the one time of year I felt truly free, nothing really mattered there. Then again, everything mattered there. Belly liked to say nothing existed outside of summer, all the other seasons were just a pass by for it, and I couldn’t argue with her.

This was exactly why I wanted one last perfect summer. Mom told me that I wasn’t being fair, that this was going to be worse for everyone but wasn’t I allowed to be selfish? For once? I knew she couldn’t see it the way I did. I wanted Belly to have her first summer of real fun without having to worry about me. I wanted to see Jeremiah and Steven act stupid all summer without feeling like they needed to slow down for me. I wanted to see Conrad to be happy for one more summer, with me.

And everything was going so well, for the most part. Just like any other summer there was drama: Belly with her new friend Cam Cameron and Jeremiah, Steven with Taylor and Shaila but it was our kid problems, nothing more than that until tonight.

“Y/n you are not allowed to go!” My mother shouted as I made my way downstairs at eight o’clock.

“Stop babying me for God’s sake! I’m telling you I feel fine, I’ll be back in a couple of hours!” I screamed back, I just wanted to go to a party with my friends, I knew I had limits now and that I had to be careful. Still, I couldn’t stay locked in forever.

“Y/n you are getting weaker, are you trying to give your father and I a heart attack?” she asked, her voice still raised but there was a falter, it made me turn right around on my heel. There she was, standing on the top step with tears in her eyes. I could feel my own gloss over. I took a deep breath and looked up in an attempt to stop any tears falling, I was only wearing waterproof mascara but still-

“You’re our little girl and we just want to protect you,” Mom said, face flooded now, lowering to sit on the top stair, she was getting more tired now too.

“Mom I’m eighteen, I don’t know if I will make it through chemo this time and I can’t let it make me live in fear. I won’t let it make me hide around my room if this is my last summer,” I said with urgency and plea.

“It’s going to be a long program Y/n, and it’s going to take lots of strength, both physical and emotional but don’t you dare say you are not going to make it. You will beat it. We just don’t want you to get overwhelmed,” Dad’s voice echoed gently as he came out of our kitchen and pulled me into a hug.

“I know-” I paused looking between both of them, my cardigan in one hand and phone in my other, “I’ve signed up for the program and I will fight this cancer again but there’s nothing I can do now but wait around until the first round of chemo begins again, and who knows what I’ll be able to do after it?” I asked, I didn’t know whether I would live, and if I did how long I’d be weak, I didn’t want to miss out on these teenage years.

I felt dad brush his hand down my arm with a sigh, he looked up to mom who shook her head and couldn’t lift her gaze.

“I know, I’m sorry honey, but you know that if anything happens you call us right away, no matt-“ she began, standing up, but I cut her off.

“No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing and there will be no questions asked,” I finished off for her, she smiled weakly and started making her way down to dad and I.

“Or you call for medical help first depending on what’s happening,” she informed me, at this point she’s said this to me so many times that I have the words tattooed inside my brain.

“I love you guys,” I said as they both squeeze me tightly just before a car horn sounds outside.

“Tell Connie we said hi and ask him to tell his mom we’ll bring that extra table for the barbeque party tomorrow when we come over for dinner,” Mom relayed to me as I slipped on my shoes.

“I will do,” I said quickly opening the door to slide out. I saw him first, Conrad Fisher, sat behind the wheel, his contagious smile and beautifully messy hair. Then I saw them, Belly, Jeremiah and Steven sat in the back all looking at Belly’s phone who sat in the middle, they were all laughing. I couldn’t believe the summer was nearly at it’s end and I got to spend it these wonderful, and slightly annoying, people.

“Omg Y/n you have to see this video Tylor filmed! This girl just found out her boyfriend was cheating on her with her best friend so both she and the best friend chucked milkshakes at him! I’m so glad Taylor filmed this!” Belly exclaimed the second I opened the car door, pushing from up from her seat and shoving the phone in my face, I didn’t even get time to look before she leaned back and sat down muttering “Damn, Harry is not gonna have fun at school this year,”.

We all broke into a laughter, I turned to Connie who had his eyes on me since the moment I got in the car, I started relaying my parent’s message about the chairs and he leant over to kiss me.

“Okay we get it, you guys are in love but we have a party to get to!” Jeremiah exclaimed grabbing on my headrest to lean his body forwards into our space. I let out a laugh pulling away from Conrad.

“I love you,” he mouthed to me, I did the same back before he turned to his focus to the car and reversing in my driveway. The journey to the house party, I didn’t even know who was hosting this one, was filled with laughter and teasing to the point that Belly had actual tears running down her face.

“I am so glad you made me invest into waterproof mascara Y/n!” Belly said running her fingers under her eyes wiping away the tears. I loved having Belly around, another girl was great to have around, her being like a little sister to me. Even though it came with both its ups and downs of siblings like all the clothes she would ‘borrow’ and never give back, but she’s a good kid.

The party is looking well underway when we arrive, there’s flashing, changing lights to be seen through the windows and the music is echoing down the street. Some new trending song is blasting as we walk through the door. Belly quickly runs off to meet some friends she made at the country club, Jere was dragged away by some good looking guy whom he looked more than friendly with leaving me, Connie and Steven to head to the drinks table.

“Are you actually gonna drink with us tonight Y/n/n?” Steven asked leaning a cup in my direction. I really wanted to, I couldn’t express to anyone how much I wanted to fully let loose, drink away my worries for the night. But I couldn’t.

“Nah I’m good,” I tried to play it off cool, but he started play arguing with me.

“Alright let it go Steven,” Con said after a minutes, I lay my hand on his arm in a silent thanks.

“Okay well I’ll leave you loser to it I’ve just spotted Shayla coming in,” he announced already walking backwards to the beautiful girl.

“Are you alright?” Con’s voice pulled me away from the vision of Steven wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he had whispered something in her ear which made her erupt into this blooming, true laugh, they made each other so happy.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” I said, pulling on a big smile, it wasn’t exactly a lie. I felt fine, more than fine standing here with him right next to me.

“It’s just you’ve not been wanting to drink, and not to pin you as an alcoholic or anything,” he defends quickly, “But you’re usually first to call shots,” he laughs pulling me closer as some guys come to the drinks table, it still swells my heart, his little tics of jealously and protection.

“I told you, it’s been really bad for my skin recently and I am not sacrificing this,” I reassured pointing to my face, “Plus it’s kind of funny being sober and watching everyone else make fools of themselves,”

“Can’t argue that,” he says, we settle into a comfortable silence, Con wasn’t drinking tonight he was nominated DD, so the two of us had to entertain ourselves sober. We weren’t standing around for too long when Getaway Car by Taylor Swift came on and I dragged him to the little makeshift dance floor in the living room.

We sang to each other as he led our little dance twirling me around every once in a while. Loads of the girls including Belly joined us screaming along to the bridge.

“God you’re perfect you know that? I think I’ll be crazy about you forever,” Con half shouted over the last chorus and I just shook him off with a gentle shove

“I love you,” I said pulling him into a massive hug. The second the song ended we noticed Jere and Steven stood in the doorway calling Con over, some kid was doing flip tricks on the trampoline and in their words ‘It was so sick! He’ll probably actually be sick if he doesn’t take a break!’

Connie was hesitant to leave me for a second, but I pushed him to the boys, they deserved his time as much as I did. I turned to the girls, and we danced to whatever song came on next, and the next and the next. By the fourth or fifth song I started to feel lightheaded.

“I’m just gonna find a bathroom real quick,” I shouted over to Belly tapping her shoulder, someone had turned the music up. She nodded and gave me a thumbs up before tipping the rest of her vodka lemonade in her mouth.

The bathroom downstairs had too long of a cue so I headed for the stairs in the entryway. Was someone turning up the music again or was it just the sound echoing in my head? I held onto the railing, but my legs were starting to feel heavier with each step. I had just managed to reach the landing, I wasn’t sure which door led to the bathroom, so I ambled to the closest door, it was a bedroom. A double bed in the center surrounded by deep blue wallpaper. It felt as though I was in the ocean somewhere, drifting away.

The bed frame was not giving me much support, I lowered myself to the ground, there was a small thud as I hid the wooden panels. I don’t think I let out a sound but before I knew it someone was rushing into the room.

“Y/n what’s going on?” the voice asked, I looked up but my sight was hazy, “Y/n?” the voice repeated, it was Steven taking a few careful steps towards me.

“It’s nothing, I’m fine just a little tired, I think I overheated a little downstairs I should have been drinking more water,” I said attempting to shoo him away with my hands, but in reality, I didn’t want him to leave, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to get up without him.

“Y/n you’ve been off all summer so cut the bullshit, since when do we lie to each other?” he asked coming closer, his honestly sounded sober.

“My,” I start and feel something bubbling within me, I cried for an hour when I was diagnosed again, then I told myself I wasn’t allowed to again until after summer, I was allowed to be happy and excited for the summer without thinking about- “My cancers back Steven, and I-”

“I’m sorry you what?” Steven asked cutting me off, as if an animated character his jaw actually dropped, he was kneeling next to me in seconds, pulling me into a hug. I shut my eyes wishing that I had left earlier or taken a night off and rested like mom had suggested, “Conrad! Get in here,” Steven shouted repeatedly brushing a hand through my hair.

“What? Y/n? What happened? Steven what happened?” Conrad asked manically flinging himself to meet his body to mine, “Are you okay?” He asked again as he got no answer to his first lot of questions. He brushed his hand down my arm.

“I’m so sorry,” I let out with a sob, shaking my head from side to side, I saw Belly run in confused with Jeremiah behind her. Others seemed to be crowding at the door but Jere quickly shut it firmly, announcing “Nothing to see here! Go grab some alcohol and make out or whatever,” before turning his attention back to me.

Now this was truly my worst nightmare, they were all looking at me, apart from Steven who had curled up and looked at the floor next to me.

“I’m sorry that I ruined our last summer together,” I said

“Y/n what are you talking about, what happened?” Belly asked brushing some hair out of my face.

“It’s back and I- I don’t think it’ll go away this time,” I whisper as if saying it out loud would mean that it was true, that I was hurting everyone around me once again.

“What’s back?” Jere asks nonchalantly at first before a realization hits him “You don’t mean-” at this Belly burst into a wail.

I looked up at Conrad, he was just staring at me, I couldn’t read his reaction at all. I brushed my hands up and down his arms, it was as if he was frozen it time. I needed him to say something, just that action was wearing me out.

“Come on let’s get you home,” Jere said, his eyes red, he was trying to be a voice of reason, be the one who doesn’t break down so he can support the rest of us. When had he become this grown up? “This isn’t a place for a conversation like this,”.

I can’t quite place what emotion was flowing through me as I was basically carried out of the house with one arm around Con the other around Steven. The whole thing seemed in slow motion to me, all the faces in the crowd of my friends and drunk strangers. How many of them realize what’s actually happening and how many of them simply thought I’d gotten hysterically drunk?

The ride back to my house was quiet other than Belly’s phone call to my mom and then Susannah and Laurel letting them know where they were all going. I was ushered into bed by mom and listened to the heartbroken whispers downstairs in the living room under my bedroom.

Mom and Belly were crying, and dad was trying to calm them down. Conrad was adamant to stay with me whilst dad offered to drive everyone else home as they’d all been drinking. When the front door shut, I heard the footsteps that shuffled upstairs.

“Connie,” I said as he walked into my room, his expression filled with sorrow and with the limited lighting of my bedside lamp I could swear he too had tears rolling from his eyes and down his beautiful face.

“You’re okay, you’re going to get better,” he said repeating in quiet whispers, whether he was trying to convince me or himself I was not sure but I let him. I pulled up my duvet and moved slightly to give him space.

He touched my hair, my face, my arms gliding his fingers as if I was made of porcelain. The first time I was diagnosed and fighting cancer I was 10 and whilst everyone was gentle with me then now it felt like a different kind of touch. A mixture of so much love and pain that I would do- give anything to make him better.

“I love you, so so much,” I whispered, pulling one of his arms around me, I wanted to feel him, all of him here in this house, our summer place. I was surprised he hadn’t run, when Con got overwhelmed he always ran, hiding was his protection. If I did anything in my life, helping Connie learn a better way to cope, or to start to was the best thing that I did.

“Don’t say it like that,” he whispered back, his eyes were closed tight shut.

“Like what?” I asked cautiously, somehow, I knew what he was going to say, I brushed my fingers through his soft hair, his pre-summer haircut was always my favorite. It wasn’t too long, not too short, just enough to outline his face and perfectly highlight his eyes.

“Like it’s one of the last times you’ll ever say it,” his voice cracked and I kept running my fingers through his locks, soothing him. It’s funny how I’m the one who this has happened to yet I’m the one who’s been reassuring everyone that everything happens for a reason. Maybe it was because I’d lived enough to know what the purest of happiness was and that I’d experienced honest love even though some never do.

“I love you. I love you. I love you,” I kept repeating as if I was counting stars up in the sky or the little sheep jumping over the fence in hopes of falling asleep. I’d said it so much my mouth had started running dry but if that was the price for having this boy, this kind, loving boy in my arms until my end I’d pay it over and over and more.

Unfortunately, the underlying sour mood was carried into the next morning, when I woke up to the glimpse of summer that danced in through the half open curtain Conrad was still asleep. He usually looked peaceful when he slept but this morning even in his most fragile states his brows were creased and his breathing was heavy and uneven. I watched him, when we get back to Boston nothing will ever be the same, and we only have a week left here in Cousins.

I untangled from his arms. I tended to have more strength in the morning but today I gripped onto the white wooden rail as I ambled downstairs and into the kitchen. Walking past the living room I noticed figures asleep on the couch. I smiled to myself when I saw Jeremiah and the Conklin siblings, they never left last night.

The clock hit seven when I walked into the kitchen, mom sat there with her kindle in hand, cup of coffee in front of her, but she stared unfocused at the device The lines under her eyes were darker than last night, she looked exhausted. Dad was at the kitchen counter prepping some eggs, bacon and sausages, the good old English Breakfast. He too looked as though he hadn’t slept.

“Morning sweetheart,” mom said looking up, her whole expression changed from worry to love, and though she tried to hide it the worry was still there, rooted deeply in her skin. I took a step towards her and she rushed out of her chair to grab me into a tight embrace.

A thousand things I wanted to say sat there pooling in my head because I simply couldn’t get them out.

“Your dad went out last night to get some more breakfast supplies, we’re feeding some unexpected- but most welcome mouths this morning,” she conveyed and I just nodded, my head resting in her neck, “I’ve called Princeton this morning and explained the situation, they said depending on how long the treatment is going to take they may move your enrollment to next year just so you don’t fall too far behind,” mom explained and I watched my dad’s feet shuffle towards us. College was the last thing on my mind, everyone here was.

“We also called the hospital and they’ve decided to start your sessions earlier,” dad said, this forced me to pull back.

“What do you mean?” I asked frantically, “We’ve had the date set for the day after we get back! How can I start my treatment earlier if we’ll still be here?” I questioned.

“We’ll be heading back to Boston tomorrow Y/n” mom conveyed, I took another step back. No! I needed this last week here with these people.

“But we agreed-” I tried to reason, to argue.

“I know sweetheart, but your health is more important to us, the doctors were already weary of letting you have the whole summer here anyway,” dad leaned against the kitchen counter with one hand and the other travelled to his forehead, an attempt to brush the physical signs of fear and worry away.

“We’re your parents Y/n, we just want what’s best,” mom reassured, and I knew they were right, they usually tended to be but that didn’t mean I had to be happy about it.

“The moms have organized a day full of fun and the celebratory barbeque dinner tonight,” Belly, who was now leaning against the doorframe between the living room and the kitchen, said.

“We’re all leaving tomorrow Y/n, we’re going to be there with you every step of the way,” Jeremiah said, his stunning ocean eyes expressing the purest admiration, his one hand was around Belly’s waist. A side of my mouth twisted up in a sly smile. I had predicted this years ago, Con owed me fifty bucks now.

“Oh my- come here the both of you right now,” I demanded, I took a few steps towards them but they did most of the work.

“I want in too!” Steven, voice all groggy and half asleep, demanded as he jogged towards us. We stood there hugging for longer than we ever have, it was nice and warm.

We all sat around the table playing a round of uno as dad started to make breakfast, mom offered to help to give us the space, she knew we got far too competitive when it came to this game.

I had two cards left, the least out of all when Jeremiah spoke up from next to me, “Connie isn’t taking it well, he went outside at around three in the morning and he just sobbed, I thought you needed to know” his eyes with sympathetic and glossed over.

“I just don’t want him to shut everyone out now,” I said knowing that the boy had a thing for bottling up his emotions until they finally explode. He stayed last night but who knew which was his mood would sway today.

“He’s going to be around, he’ll be here for you, we all will,” Jeremiah reassured.

The day went by faster than anyone wanted, Conrad came down perfectly in time for breakfast, he pulled a chair to sit next to me. Just like his usual self he wanted to be near me, touching me at all times, whether it was his shoulder brushing mine, a hand on thigh or his head on my shoulder. After breakfast we when back to Susannah’s house and sat on their private stretch of beach. Then we competed in a murder mystery game that us kids created when we were twelve. It was actually pretty intriguing even for the moms and dad.

“I can’t believe you kept stored away for six years mom,” Jere said to which Susannah replied with a knowing motherly smile and pulled another clue card.

Then we went to the pier, had ice cream and I absolutely crushed everyone at the arcade games winning most of the challenges, the great showdown occurred yet again even though Laurel banned it all those years ago. Then we headed back for dinner at the beach house, Jere and Steven operated the grill, we all sat around talking and I managed enough energy to play a quick round of water polo in the newly upgraded heated pool.

Through the whole day Conrad was never more than a few feet away from me. He managed to upkeep a smile most of the time, but when he thought I couldn’t see it faltered. I always knew he was a good one.

At around eleven mom and dad headed back home whilst the rest of us cuddled up on the couches to watch some romcom on Netflix. About halfway through Belly decided she wanted popcorn, so we took a pause and Susannah said she wanted to brush my hair. She loved doing both mine and Belly’s hair, we were her honorary daughters so of course I let her. One of the many things I love about her is that no matter the weather, or what was going on she was a ray of sunshine. I don’t mean that she was always happy, but she always held out hope and guided everyone to the other side of any storm cloud.

After the movie had finished and we got a good hour into the titanic most of us were dozing off, Susannah started shooing everyone off to bed. She too went upstairs leaving Conrad and I sat on the sofa. I looked at him as soon as the whole floor was clear. My eyes asked the quiet question, begged the questions.

“Are you sure? Do you feel like you have enough strength?” he asked, and I smiled, my brain scanned through images of this boy as we grew up, side by side and through all of it he stayed true just like his mom.

“What have we been doing for the past four hours if not sitting and laying around?” I asked lifting my brows in a giggle.

He shook his head slightly and half a smirk managed to make it onto his face, “It’s been a long busy day, that’s all I’m saying,” he defended himself.

“I know, but I’m fine I promise, let’s go!” I encouraged lifting from the couch and pulling him up by his arm. It didn’t take much convincing, when he stood, he gave me a long, slow kiss before resting his arm around my shoulder. We fit together perfectly like two pieces of a puzzle finally put together.

We walked down the sandy path towards their private part of the beach, nudging each other and giggling just like the night Conrad first kissed me, just like the night he had asked me to be his girlfriend. Most, if not all our important milestones happened here at the beach house.

“Do you know what?” He asked breaking the silence, even just the sound of his voice was enough to press my body and mind into total peace but also force my heart to beat at an ungodly speed, still after being together for two and a half years.

“What?”

“One day, the day we get married, I’ll scoop you up like this,” he pauses turning to me, I look at him confused for a second as he coddles me in his arms like a princess, I let out a giggle, “and I’ll carry you into this house,” he pointed to the summer house, “then I’ll carry you out back and all the way to the beach and kiss you until the sun goes down and the moon hangs up high in the sky like tonight and never let you go,” he whispered into my ear as we neared the beach.

“Connie,” I began but he shushed me

“I know, I know you don’t like planning that far ahead, but this is non-negotiable, you said we’re allowed one non-negotiable each. You have yours and I have mine,” he said in a manner of fact way, I just laughed and leaned up to kiss him.

“You do know, I know that was all a ruse so that I didn’t have to walk,” I said and he just smiled, “You’re amazing and I love you but please put me down,” I asked, not because I didn’t love to be treated like a princess but because I felt good and I wanted to experience this with him in the way it’s always meant to be.

When we got onto the open part of the beach it was much windier, Con took off his coat leaving him in his jumper and wrapped it around my arms. We listened to the song of the water and watched the waves.

“I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he announced into the night, he’s sat half leaning on his legs.

“Why’s that?” I asked, there were so many things both of us had to be thankful for.

“That I met you, that I have you, that you chose me and let me hold and love you, I think I’m the luckiest man on the planet,” he says, his gaze drifting to the stars above us. Not a single cloud in the sky tonight.

“Do you know what I think is lucky?” I asked laying my head on his shoulder, my eyes getting tired now.

He finally turns to me and smiles, “What?”

“That we both live in Boston,” I said and he shook his head, clearly not what he was expecting. But it was true, our grandparents met at the Cousin’s country club years ago, our grandmothers were friends which then meant our moms were friends, they went to collage together, it was both of their dreams to live in Boston so they moved out there together not expecting to both live in that city for so long but I was so thankful they did because that meant that I got the Fisher boys and Susannah all year round.

It was around the time that we could see the first shades of yellow and orange of the sun that we decided to head back, his sheets were cold but his arms around me were more than enough to keep me warm in the breezy summer night.

The next day mom and dad came round for breakfast, it was a feast ranging from cereal and toast to pancakes with fresh fruits and muffins which Jere and Belly had gone for a morning run for. Just as fast as the breakfast had disappeared, we were all packing up and getting ready to leave.

As I watched the scenery leaving Cousins, I felt guilty that everyone was cutting their trip short, no matter how much they tried to reassure me that it was okay and that they didn’t mind. Still Laurel, Belly and Steven had agreed to say in Susannah’s house in Boston for the week which meant we still got to have that time together before everything went back into motion in September.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

It was a week after the Conklin’s left that I was told I would be better off shaving off my hair now with it being earlier in the process in order to avoid more emotional highs later on which could affect the medication.

I’d agreed on the terms that Susannah would be the one to do it, together we supported and acted for a hair donation charity which turned hair into wigs for children with cancer, so that’s exactly where my hair was headed.

It was a Friday night, which is always Pizza night, whether ordered in or homemade, one week at our house one week at the Fisher’s. It was that night that I was going to shave all the hair off, the thought wasn’t as scary as I remember it being from the first time around, but I would miss it.

I sit with a towel around my shoulders looking at myself in the mirror of the master bathroom, the boys were both sat in there with my mom, Belly was facetiming us and Susannah stood behind me with the scissors, this was harder for her than for me.

Mom held my hand and dad stood in the doorway with a tight smile. Susannah had braided my hair into two braids and after a nervous laughter and whispering ‘I love you’ she cut the first one, the snip of the scissors was loud in my ears as she worked through the thick of one braid. A breath escaped my lips and quickly enough we were on the second braid. Now Conrad held onto my other hand, the corners of his eyes creasing. And then the other was gone too.

In a way it felt like a weight was lifted off me, I mean it literally had been, my head felt lighter, and I was left with uneven scraps all over my head.

“Hey I dig the short hair!” Jeremiah says hand extended to fist bump me, I felt obliged saying, “Now we know I could steal your hairstyle and still be cooler than you,” I remarked and he pulled a smirk.

“Listen up Y/n/n at least my cut isn’t so uneven,” he laughs

“Well, mine’s about to be more smooth than yours, what you gonna do?” I play intimidated as mom placed my braids into the zip lock bag ready to be posted.

“Some little girl or boy is going to be really happy when they receive that hair you know that Y/n” Susannah said squeezing my shoulders after plugging in the razor. This time I closed my eyes and squeezed Connie’s hand tighter.

When half my head was done, I felt a bit of a breeze but I didn’t want to open my eyes yet, I’ve said many times that hair wasn’t a determining factor in my life but at the end of the day it was a part of me.

“All done,” Susannah said and I could hear a fragile smile in her words, I nodded with my own smile.

Then after a second the sound of the razor when off again and my eyes shot open, before I could stop it I saw Connie’s soft, brown hair falling from his head. He has run a strip right in the middle of his hair.

I leaped out of the stool. But it was too fast, everything around me started spinning slightly and my knees had gone weak. I grabbed the counter in front of me and both mom and Jeremiah leaned forward for support.

“I’m okay,” I say after a second, I closed my eyes and steadied myself, what was actually a matter of a minute felt like hours, but then I was stood again with another reminder: slow.

“Connie what were you thinking?” I asked incredulously and he was just shaking his head smiling, a glimpse of tears in his eyes.

“I’m in this with you, I told you I would be here every step of the way and I will,” he stood right in front of me, his deep blue eyes staring right into my soul, how had I been so lucky to have been granted the love of this boy and everyone else in this room. I pulled him into a tight embrace, retaining his warmth, his touch.

Jere jerked taking the turned off razor out of his brother’s hand and worked it through his own hair. This time everyone gasped, Jeremiah loved his hair.

“Never have I ever thought I’d see that happen. Jere, you obsess over your hair, you love it!” Belly expressed through the phone, now Steven was leaning over her shoulder.

“Yo- you lot are brave!” he exclaimed with laughter; this was how he processed grief. He made jokes and laughed because otherwise it was much too bare, I didn’t blame him, in fact I found it comforting.

“I love my hair but you mean much more Y/n” Jere announced turning back to me and I couldn’t help but let the tears roll down my face now, pulling Jere to join the hug. He will be exactly the one for Belly, he’ll treat her well. I was sure of it.

Now it was my turn to sit on the edge of the tub, Susannah’s arm around me as we watched both her boys get their heads shaved by my mom.

“Well now we’re all gonna look like weirdos every time we leave the house,” I laughed looking at dad.

“And we’re gonna look like some cult parents who forced their kids to shave their heads,” he added back laughing

“I mean we could shave yours too David,” Susannah added, “Then we’ll confuse the narrative,”

“Only if your hair is next,” he challenged and I squeezed Suze’s hand, I would never let anyone come near her beautiful, golden hair.

“I think we’ve shaved enough heads for one day,” mom announces pulling the razor momentarily from Jere’s head, “Remember we have that dinner reservation in like two hours and I’d like to get changed from these sweats and t-shirt,” she goes back to Jere’s hair but before she’s able to make any progress she turns back around again, “Actually that’s a lie I could live in this outfit for the rest of my life I’m just not sure the people at the restaurant would appreciate it,” she says and every in the room laughs.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

The hospital room I’d been in for the past week and a half has become a familiar sight, considering that I’ve only left it to go to other similar looking rooms in the hospital. I look at the clock, its five in the afternoon, I must have fallen asleep again. The November chill was visible outside by the frost on the other side of the glass.

On the other side of the room behind the wall I hear mom talking to someone, dad has gone to work for the day, they’ve started switching days, so I can only guess it’s Susannah or the boys.

“It’s been getting worse,” her voice quivers and a part of me wishes I could mute her out, still be asleep. I know the truth, a part of me has known it since I found out the cancer came back those couple of weeks before we departed for Cousins that summer, I wasn’t going to get better.

“There must be something they can do,” another voice said, this time my body hauled me up a little. Conrad. I’ve been letting him visit me, he wanted to be here all the time but I asked Susannah to pace him. He was here this morning. It was meant to be one visit a day.

I know that makes me sound horrible, and it makes my own heart shatter piece by piece but it wasn’t because I didn’t love him or because I didn’t want him to be here. I knew there would be a time where he would have to move on, life would continue and he has such a bright future ahead of him, so many people to meet and experiences to be had. In my head if the distancing started now maybe it would be easier for him, even still the image of him with any other girl made me feel sick.

“Is she awake?” Is what I hear when I break out of thought.

“She wasn’t when I left to get changed and grab some food, but it’s been a couple of hours so she should be waking up soon if you want to go in,” mom said and I silently battled with the thought of pretending to still be asleep.

Before I had the time to make the choice the door was opening and then Conrad’s and my eyes met and he was coming to sit next to my bed, quickly pulling his hand into mine.

He bought a bag of games with him, we started with some card games, then snake and ladders, then four in a row and so on for a couple of hours. I was glad he came for the second time today.

“What?” He asked, I was staring at him but it wasn’t like he wasn’t staring back

“No nothing, just wondering how I managed to score such a hot boyfriend,” I say fanning myself with one hand, “And he’s a teddybear and sweetheart.” I added and watched him cringe at my words.

“I’m the one who should be asking how I managed to get a girlfriend as stunning and kindhearted as you,” he said but I just rolled my eyes. As much as we did this over the top thing as a joke we both knew we meant the words.

We talked and talked that night, he held my hand through it all. I didn’t realize how late it was but mom had come to sit in the corner of the room, she’d been having trouble sleeping recently but she’d managed to snooze off.

“I love you so much Connie, I’m thankful for you everyday, never ever change,” I whispered holding back a sob, he was half asleep on his chair next to my bed too.

“I love you too,” he said leaning up to kiss me gently. Then Connie and I whispered to each other until I too was fading away into sleep.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Conrad’s POV:

I never thought I’d be stood here, looking at all these people and her picture in front of a casket. I took that photo the day I asked her to be my girlfriend on Cousins beach, all her teeth were shining pearly white and her hair was blowing in the wind framing her face like a masterpiece statue or a goddess.

“I think you all know that Y/n meant more to me than anything and anyone in my life, alongside my family. We grew up with each other. We were there for each other in the good and bad times even before we were together romantically. She is- was- one of the most integral pieces of the puzzle of our lives. I think I can speak on behalf of our families,” I pause, tears rolling down my face, and a sob building up in my throat, “I don’t know how I will be able to go day by day without seeing her, hearing her voice and her passion. She inspired me more than anyone and I will love her until the day I die and even further into whatever comes after death, I will do everything in my power to make sure all her goals for the many charities and organizations are complete, I will build a new charity in her name, I will make sure she gets the remembrance she deserves, because- because more than anyone I know she deserved all happiness and love. She will be missed more than I could ever have the words to express” I finished and turned to the casket, “Please don’t leave me, come back to me,” I whispered.

There was more I wanted to say, I could speak about her for days and nights on end, about how wonderful and bubbly and kind she was and yet I couldn’t. These faces in the crowd, some knew her better than others but no one like our little families, Belly, Jere and Steven were all sat next to each other crying. Mom was holding her arms around Y/n’s mom and dad as they stared at me, thankful for my words.

I broke into tears too, leaning onto the stand in front of me for support. Mom rushed towards me now, holding me close and helping me down to the seats. There I sat numb, tears flowing as the pastor finished the ceremony after which we all filed out and watched her get lowered into her grave. It read ‘Y/n L/n. Daughter, friend, love. An inspiration to all’

I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I was holding her hand the night she passed. Two weeks since I’ve lost my everything.

Masterlist

#The Summer I Turned Pretty #the summer i turned pretty imagine #the summer i turned pretty x reader #TSITP #tsitp x you #tsitp fanfic #tsitp imagine #conrad fisher #conrad fisher imagine #conrad fisher x reader #conrad fisher x y/n #conrad fisher x you #Jeremiah Fisher #jeremiah fisher x reader #jeremiah fisher x y/n #jeremiah fisher x you #tsitp jeremiah

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nox140497 · 9 months

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You're Gonna Be Okay

Masterlist

Prompt List

Prompt: No

Request: No

Summery: Colby finds out he has testicular cancer. His girlfriend Y/N and his bet friend Sam are there to make sure he knows he's not alone and that he's going to be ok.

Pairings: Colby Brock Female reader.

Colby had always been a healthy and active young man. He went for regular hikes, ate well, and took care of his body for the most part. So when he noticed pain in his palvic area, he wasn't too worried. But after a few weeks of it being on and off and not really going away, he finally decided to go see a doctor.

After a few tests and scans, Colby received the devastating news that he had testicular cancer. He couldn't believe it. It felt like his whole world came crashing down at that moment. How could this be happening to him? He was only 26 years old.

Tears streamed down his face as he called his girlfriend Y/N to tell her the news. She rushed over to his house and held him as he sobbed in her arms. She promised to be there for him every step of the way. Y/N was Colby's rock, his safe haven, and he knew he couldn't get through this without her.

The next day, Colby's best friend Sam came home after being at his girlfriend's house. They had been friends since they were kids, and Sam was like a brother to him. When Colby tells Sam about his diagnosis, Sam's eyes are filled with tears, but he quickly composes himself and puts on a brave face for his friend.

'We're going to get through this, man,' Sam said, placing a reassuring hand on Colby's shoulder.

Colby was scheduled to start chemotherapy in a few days. Y/N and Sam were there with him every step of the way, from going to doctor's appointments to holding his hand during treatments. Sam even learned a very complicated skill to help Colby keep his hair.

There were days when Colby didn't want to get out of bed when the side effects of chemo were too much to handle. But Y/N and Sam were always there to lift his spirits and remind him that he was not alone in this battle.

'You are so strong, Colby,' Y/N would say, kissing his forehead. 'You can beat this.'

Sam would often crack jokes or show him funny videos to make him laugh. They were determined to keep his spirits high and make sure he never felt alone.

As the months went by, Colby's health improved. The cancer was in remission, and he was slowly getting back to his old self. Y/N and Sam continued to be there for him through the ups and downs of recovery.

One day, Colby sat with Y/N and Sam in his backyard, enjoying the warm sunshine and the company of his loved ones. He looked at his friends and felt overwhelmed with gratitude. They had been his rock through the hardest time of his life and he couldn't have asked for better people to have by his side.

'Thank you,' he said, tears welling up in his eyes. 'Thank you for everything. I couldn't have done it without you guys.'

Y/N and Sam smiled at him, their eyes shining with love and pride. They had gone through such a trying experience together and had come out stronger than ever.

'You're not alone, Colby,' Y/N said, intertwining her hand with his. 'And you never will be.'

From that moment on, Colby knew that no matter what life threw at him, he had two amazing people by his side who would support him through anything. And that gave him a sense of strength and courage he never knew he had.

#colby brock #colby brock x y/n #sam and colby #xplr #xplr club #colby brock x you #colby brock x reader #colby x reader #sam golbach

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blamebrampton · 2 months

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Books talk to each other. Mostly because practically every writer is also a voracious reader, but also because books arise out of times and places and we share a lot of our worlds these days. So it’s unsurprising that several novels I have hugely enjoyed over the past few years share the theme of the antiheroine who is past all giving of the fucks. Naomi Novik’s powerful dark sorceress kept on her own tight leash in the Scholomance books was a joy to follow; Xiran Jay Zhao’s Iron Widow slashed her way into my heart and now Sarah Rees Brennan’s Long Live Evil has added to a list of beloved antiheroines that probably started for me with Becky Sharp in Vanity Fair.

Coincidentally, when considering how to describe Long Live Evil without significant spoilers, I realised that it shared several major themes with Vanity Fair. Young woman unfairly treated by fate decides to embrace her slut era to survive a war zone – both very accurate and wildly inaccurate for both. LLE opens with main character Rae in a hospital bed, teasing her sister about a book series they both adore. Rae is taking refuge in the story they have shared over years because it is one of the few things they have left: she is losing her fight against cancer and has been losing parts of her life, family and memory as that fight has progressed.

My personal hospital experiences have all been to do with major traumas rather than illness, which I vastly prefer because if you don’t die in the first couple of days, you usually start mending and you can immediately make plans to make the best of whatever you’ve broken. Rees Brennan, however, famously wrote a very funny, very horrible, ‘Kids, you won’t believe what shenanigans your girl’s been up to now, it’s only stage four Hodgkins lymphoma!’ post on her Tumblr or LJ (someone who has been hit in the head with taxis fewer times than me will doubtless factcheck that in the notes) about seven or eight years ago and then faced the very serious business of trying to live. The hospital scenes are painfully authentic, as are the stories of people who have left Rae as she slipped further out of everyday life.

For Rees Brennan, a loving family and peer group were there to hold her as close as they could. For Rae, only her beloved little sister, Alice, and Time of Iron, their favourite fantasy series, remain. They read the books together, remember adventures cosplaying and watching the musical, they wonder about the final instalment; for Rae it’s a joy she can still share (even if she doesn’t remember as much as she should), for Alice, it’s her two greatest loves. When a strange woman offers a door into the world of the book and a possible magical cure to Rae, she wants it as much as she disbelieves it.

Stepping into Eyam, the land of Time of Iron, Rae finds herself in the body of a villain doomed to die the next day. No worries! She’s thought and fought her way out of worse scraps than this in her past as a head cheerleader, let alone while battling cancer. She can use her knowledge of the plot to change things! If only she remembered more of the books…

Portal fantasies are common enough, but not all play by the same rules. This isn’t Narnia, where the magical world is more real than our own, for Rae, the world of the book is nothing more a tool to get her hands on the cure. She doesn’t need to care about any of these people, they’re not real. Most of them speak in a formal language that relies on the conventions of fantasy literature (there is an ongoing, warm-hearted skewering of all Game of Thrones-esque texts running through both the story and the in-text ‘quotes’ from Time of Iron) and half the characters are known more by their descriptions rather than their names. So she will play the Beauty Dipped in Blood, with her questionable morals, impractical clothes and centre-of-balance-distorting boobs for the weeks that will pass until the cure is available. Whoever she has to shuffle in the plot to secure a place beside that cure, she will shuffle. While she’s not out to kill anyone, it’s not as though they were ever really alive. Not like her. If she has to be the villain to survive, she will be an impeccable one. The people will cheer evil on!

Obviously, little goes to plan. Rae’s illness has taught her cruelty, but she hasn’t forgotten what it is to be kind. Even as she manipulates her role into ongoing main character, she realises that’s not how anyone gets a happy ending. That’s not how she can live with herself. As she comes to think of the other people in the story as real, they become more so, both in how we read them and in how they impact the story. Rae remembers what it is like to make friends, which she never meant to, but, oh, the luxury after years of watching people slip away!

As in previous novel In Other Lands, Rees Brennan has a long list of fantasy tropes to embrace and undermine, and her deft touch with humour is as evident as ever here, but her publishers call this her first adult novel and there is a shift in tone from her previous works. Anger is more real and lasting. Consequences are more significant. Understanding is reached for, even if it’s bitter. One of my favourite things is that she lets her female characters rage, but never judges those who can’t, whether because they’re too powerless or just too tired, and her male characters are allowed to be people if they choose to be — which all but the most vainglorious do.

I hadn’t paid much attention beyond checking the release date for the book, so didn’t realise it was the first in a series. For me, it worked perfectly as a standalone novel, even with the unended threads, which would have perfectly balanced Rae’s unfinished life. That said, I am very happy to know we will spend more time with these characters in the future. I want more. I do want to know if there is a hope for Rae, if this is the fever dream of a fading life, if this is the story Alice has told to ease her sister from the world or something else. There are a dozen characters I hope for, at least three happy endings that would bring joy. But don’t wait for the next books: sink your teeth into this one and believe what it says about the importance of listening to stories rather than just falling in love with characters. Though if you find yourself cheering on Rae, or her servant Emer, the elusive Eric, Horrible Hortensia or almost any of the others, I am the last person who will judge you.

#Long Live Evil #Sarah Rees Brennan #new books

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asifyoudidntknow · 6 months

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All Time Favs

I began reading fanfic in my teens during the original run of the show. There were lonnng breaks from it, but coming back to the fandom in 2017 reignited my interest. I now keep a spreadsheet as well as a "to read" list. I already have almost 600 logged (not including 5 years), so I wanted to share my top favorites. Divided into my 4 favorite genres (AU, casefic, angst + romance, and smut + romance) and in no particular order...

*Alternate Universe*

I used to wonder why someone would choose to read AU. Then I read one of these and was completely blown away.

Katherine of Ireland by Jenna Tooms (gossamer)

Katherine, princess of Ireland is married to Walter, king of Angora. When Walter is killed during battle, Katherine is taken by the enemy, FitzJames. William is FitzJames right hand. When FitzJames orders her to be beaten (even after discovering her pregnancy) William devises a plan to save her, heal her and get her back to Ireland. Will William always be seen as the enemy or will Katherine come to see him for who he truly is?

By the dim and flaring lamps by @sunflowerseedsandscience (ao3)

Civil war AU’s are my jam and this was one of the first ones I read. When Mulder discovers (disguised boy) Scully bathing in a waterfall by darkness and realizes what he is dealing with will remain etched in my brain forever.

In darkness by DKSculder (ao3)

What if Scully was married to Daniel? What if Daniel was a serial killer? What if Mulder was a VCU agent still? This is an unfinished work, but the idea is unlike any other I’ve come across.

Blinded by the white light by DashaK (ao3)

Need I say more? When Mulder and Scully find each other after colonization, will they remember each other and will they act on it?

The second side of light by @scapegrace74-blog (ao3)

Oregon Trail. Mulder is leading scully and Melissa across the trail when Melissa dies. They end up getting very close to one another on the journey.

Paracelsus by profuckslove (ao3)

Another amazing civil war AU. When Mulder goes looking for his lost son and comes across a pregnant scully what will happen to them?

Hiareth by profuckslove (gossamer)

Wales 1215. Scully escapes the king by marrying Mulder, the prince of wales. Marriage leads to love and fighting off dangerous men.

Paracosm by @softnow (ao3)

This is an unfinished work. College AU. Mulder has a crush on the library girl, will she return his advances?

A companion unobtrusive by @slippinmickeys (ao3)

A college AU where scully is looking for a roommate and Mulder is looking for a room. Melissa introduces them and the rest is history.

Qui Si by Trixie (gossamer)

After accepting an offer from a gypsy to go back to a life with Samantha in it, Mulder, a child psychologist, helps Scully, a PhD, get over her past.

You he did not fail by extraordinarily_ordinary (ao3)

Scully abruptly leaves TXF after surviving cancer and moves to LA to start anew. She is dating when Mulder is assigned as a profiler to a case she is working and they have to deal with things left undealt with.

Five years and a lifetime by @monikafilefan (ao3)

Mulder is a Peds psychiatrist. Scully is a Peds neurologist. They meet at a conference and have a one night stand. What happens when they come to work together 5 years later and Scully is a single mom?

Amish country by lolabeegood (gossamer)

Mulder and Scully go undercover in Amish country trying to catch a serial rapist while navigating very traditional values and roles.

You and me by lolabeegood (gossamer)

Mulder leaves his wealthy parents to serve under Scully’s father in the military. In order for her to stay safe, fed, and clothed she needs to marry.

The mountain man by aka Jake (gossamer)

Scully is sent from nyc (where she was becoming a doctor) to Montana at her father’s wishes. He wants her to marry a lieutenant under his command and not practice medicine, but she becomes intrigued with a local mountain man.

The countess/the earl by @slippinmickeys (ao3)

When scully is to be married to an old duke in order to save her family from financial ruin, a strange, alluring earl steps in to save her.

*Case*

There is nothing quite like a casefic. It's classic x-files and I am here for it. Writers in this fandom are so talented with their abilities to create a fic that rivals/trumps actual episodes.

Perchitor by @aloysiavirgata (ao3)

A little girl goes missing in the mountains with the superstition of Jenny Greenteeth to blame. Mulder and Scully investigate while navigating a new physical relationship.

Omens by @lepus-arcticus (ao3)

I read this one as a WIP and was anxiously checking for an update every night. There were several lines in this fic that made me gasp. Cancer arc angst. Give me it alllll.

XII by fragilevixen (ao3)

A killer that romanticizes every victim. His next target? Guess who. *coughSCULLYcough*

Hearts desire by malibusunset (ao3)

While in a small town scully runs into an old BF and starts wondering why she doesn’t prioritize her dating. She decides to go for it. The author makes me like Scully’s old flame. That says something. When the MSR convo finally does come, I thought I’d die from the slow burn.

Resurgam by opheila_interrupted (ao3)

One of the most xfiles like cases I have ever read. Remains unsolved at the end and has our agents investigating ghosts near Mulder’s hometown while dealing with their own (Emily & Teena).

Universal invariants/laws of motion by @syntax6

Scully is engaged to Ethan throughout the first season while her and Mulder’s relationship is deepening and then consummated right before she is abducted. How do two guys in love handle Scully’s abduction and what happens when she is returned?

All the way home/head over heels by @syntax6

Mulder is pulled into a past unsolved VCU case of a killer with a shoe fetish while navigating a new physical relationship with scully. When scully is targeted, Mulder has to gamble with his personal feelings while working to find the killer.

Queens gambit by Suzanne Schramm (gossamer)

Under Kersh, Mulder and Scully are assigned to a VCU case Mulder worked in Utah in 89’. The killer was put to death and then revenge began. Local mines and children involved.

*angst + romance*

This is my crux. Angst in any way, shape, or form. Add in some slow burn/ust and finally the rst *chefs kiss* particularly fond of Ethan fics and cancer arc.

Contact high by penumbra (gossamer)

Still feeling the residual effects of the spores post field trip, our agents try out Mulder’s new waterbed.

Early on by @sunflowerseedsandscience (ao3)

10 vignettes set during season 1. Our baby agents are becoming close, but Ethan is still around. How does scully navigate her relationship with Ethan while working with Mulder?

Center Mass by @kateyes224 (ao3)

Another Ethan fic set in season 1. Mulder and Scully make an effort to get to know one another… in more ways than one. And when Mulder gets aroused at Scully’s marksmanship it’s all over for me.

One blue line by sarie_fairy (ao3)

IVF arc. Scully is defeated by a negative pregnancy test. When Mulder tries to comfort her, she suggests having sex. I just remember wondering if I was reading or actually doing the act myself considering how detailed it was.

Salt by anjou (gossamer)

I remember reading this and being like WTF is happening to only have it all make sense at the end leaving me speechless.

Triptych by @iconicscullyoutfits (ao3)

My favorite FTF, post bee, how the f*ck did they get out of anarctica fic.

Snowbound by malibusunset (gossamer)

After missing their flight and being snowed in their rental on the side of the road, discussions lead to their relationship. Once they’re recused they are put up in an inn with 1 room. Dun, dun, dunnnn.

The ache by @storybycorey (ao3)

1999 Mulder has a visit with 2015 Mulder to urge him to get help with his depression and not lose scully.

Love bites by living_underground (ao3)

A review of vampirism cases throughout the years. Hickeys from Ed. Love bites from Mulder.

Goshen by bonetree (ao3)

Mulder and Scully are in a car accident where their car can’t be seen. Major injuries lead to near death experiences and visions of Emily.

All that our senses can perceive by wonderland (ao3)

Mulder’s POV looking over Scully’s transformation from girl to woman and how all of his senses perceive her.

Caught in the Act I by parrotfish (gossamer)

Although the whole series is amazing, the first part is my favorite. I love when scully lays into the review panel about being sexist.

The things she carries by @edierone (ao3)

One of my favorite cancer arc fics. When Mulder confronts Scully 3 years later on the porch I literally stopped breathing.

Red valerian series by dashakay (ao3)

Scully looks to skinner for comfort during a grueling case, starting a 6 month affair. Will scully ever love him or will the buried truth prevail?

Sex and Loathing by malibusunset (ao3)

Scully takes a drunk Mulder home after Roche. He makes a move and they have terrible sex. After 2 years of poking at each other they face things head on after Mulder almost dies in PBV.

Snakebitten by @onpaperfirst (ao3)

Set throughout season 5. My favorite season. Say no more.

Five years and one night by Shalimar (gossamer)

When Scully transfers to LA and Mulder finds more babies like Emily, can they work together again to get to the bottom of this conspiracy?

The letter by Shalimar (gossamer)

Post TFWID, scully goes searching for more clues to her and Mulder’s past lives when she comes across a letter in a local Apison museum she sent to Mulder.

*smut + romance*

It's hard to have just smut when it comes to MSR, am I right? these two idiots are so in love that my smut category must also be romantic.

Undercover swing by 2momsmakearight (ao3)

What if Mulder and Scully go undercover as a married couple interested in swinging? Can they both keep their jealously in check?

Be kind, rewind by OnlyTheInevitable (ao3)

To help catch a suspect, skinner requests our agents watch porn together. While watching, conversation leads to critiques about the performance and comments about personal preferences.

Girl 77 by mojo

A stripper is found dead with Mulder’s card on her. She looks exactly like Scully. Scully notices and confronts Mulder about it.

Dropped call series by @phillippadgettwrites (ao3)

Phone sex, but make it “not them”

December 31, 1984 by @phillippadgettwrites (ao3)

When Mulder saves an unimpressed scully from some jerk on NYE, they end up at her apartment having a one night stand.

Damsels by @sisterspooky1013 (ao3)

Scully is sent undercover as a stripper to find a missing woman. Mulder is kept in the dark regarding her case, but pieces together where she is and what she’s doing and sets out to find her.

The Shirt by Audrey Roget (gossamer)

Skinner reconciles with Sharon leading to a vow renewal celebration. Skinner asks mulder and Scully to stand with him as his best agents. After slow dancing together, mulder bolts out of the celebration before scully catches the bridal bouquet and he crosses a line. When they end up in an accident while driving in a storm, things come to a head in an Elvis inspired motel suite out in the middle of nowhere PA.

#txf fanfic #msr fanfic #fic recs #fic rec list #fanfic recs #au #case fic #angst #romance #smut #msr

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

Note

AITA for saying my family shows favoritism towards my baby cousin?

(This is copied from my Reddit drafts because my partner told me tumblr would be better for this and I trust them)

Okay this is a long one so I’m just gonna throw out fake names for everyone and everyone is white middle class Americans

I, Op, 20M, I’m a trans man not accepted by my family. This is relevant

Renee, 20F, my twin sister

Bea, 16F, my younger sister

Lee, 35F, my aunt on my father’s side

Lucas, 2M, my cousin, son of Lee

Suzie, 5F, my cousin, daughter of Lee

My father, 44M, the patriarch of our whole family

My mother, 45F

Grandpa, 76M, paternal grandpa, previous patriarch

Grandma, 74F, paternal grandma

So I’m sending this in on Christmas Day of 2023. For some context, I still live at home, but it’s more of a roommate situation now that I’m an adult. Renee lives on her out-of-state college campus but visits for holidays, and Bea is still a high schooler. Lee, her children, and her husband who isn’t relevant to this (I love my uncle, we just literally never talk) live across the country. My father is losing the battle with cancer and can’t travel, so we had two separate christmases this year, one with my immediate family and one with Lee. Grandma and Grandpa went to Lee’s, which was awesome for me because that meant I got to avoid them this year!

As the character list above states, I’m (one of) the oldest of the five grandkids with my cousins being born a lot later than me and my sisters. My family is a traditional WASP family and staunchly conservative with Aunt Lee actively being a cop right now while my parents and Grandpa served in the military. Growing up undeniably queer was hilarious, I know. But the family dynamic wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, my family did a good job of trying to hide the fact that Renee was the favorite child lol, but that was more on the basis of her having the same traditional values that they do until Aunt Lee had Suzie, then she obviously became the favorite. Fine by me, she’s an adorable girl and I love spoiling her. Also, ACAB does apply for Aunt Lee for being complacent in this system, it’s not just the most relevant part of the story besides explaining how she fits into the family dynamic

But then Lee had Lucas a few years later and the focus in the family shifted to him. At first, it was baby fever making everyone dote over him (and I’m guilty of this too) but after a while, I realized that the fever hasn’t died down. If we had family reunions, everyone would flock to Lucas and I would be the one watching Suzie. For a toddler, she’s a great conversationalist, but it was still sad to see all her aunts and uncles and cousins showering her baby brother with attention and not her. And then the comments started. That my father would only refer to Lucas as “my nephew” even when talking directly to Lee (unhinged to witness in person). That Grandpa was so happy to finally have a grandson (felt great). The lady-killer comments and guessing what profession he’s gonna go into based on how chubby of a baby he is (the money’s on Linebacker, little dude is built like a truck). Stuff like that

None of these comments were ever made about Suzie when she was born, and I really don’t want to admit that it’s because Lucas is a boy, but thats the only answer I can think of when trying to understand the favoritism. Lucas is showered in gifts and love and while I know newborns need that, Suzie received nowhere near this much attention. Lee’s husband doesn’t go to family functions because he works full time, but I heard Suzie mumble at Thanksgiving last month that she wanted to go home to daddy. It broke my fucking heart, so I called him and she got to FaceTime with my uncle until my phone died

At this point, I’m not even upset that the family ignores my obvious trans-ness as I’m over a year on T (paid for by myself too) in favor of my boy cousin. I’m upset that Suzie is getting left out of the fawning while she’s still super young and she could grow up resenting Lucas because of it.

Anyways, so this morning we opened gifts as an immediate family and I got to FaceTime my significant other as they unboxed their gift from me and we were having a good time until my dad FaceTimes Grandpa. Grandpa answers and Dad immediately asks how his nephew is. Lucas is pushed in front of the phone and all I can hear is asking about how Lucas is, is Lucas talking yet, is Lucas reading yet. I manage to squeeze my head in and ask about Suzie and Lee’s voice off camera says that “oh she’s fine, just snobbish.” Snobbish? A five year old?

And here’s where I’m probably the Asshole. Honestly, I’m looking between ESH and JAH here, but would perfectly understandable if tumblr decides YTA. My response to Lee’s comment was: “well maybe she wouldn’t be if everyone didn’t pick Lucas as the family favorite.”

My dad smacked me upside the head, Renee and Bea got really pissed off, and the FaceTime went quiet until it was cut off and Grandpa called back to talk to Dad privately. Bea called me an asshole and while my Mom got onto her for her language, Mom agreed that I was.

My dad came back from the phone and did the silent point towards his bedroom, y’all with shitty parents know the one. Because I’m twenty fucking years old and pay RENT here, I shook my head, grabbed my keys, and went to go hang out with my significant partner and work friends. We had a great time and I’m currently in the car with my significant other while typing this. I’m gonna spend the night at their place and go back in the morning to see how bad the damage is. My significant other says I was justified in what I said, but two of my work friends (one who’s a Cishet guy who grew up in a similar household and another who’s a new dad with his own son) say that what I said was uncalled for and rude. They explained that I had no right to weaponize Lucas and Suzie like that and I understand that. I’m just tired of Suzie being neglected and, selfishly I know, I’m tired of how my identity is ignored as well

So, tumblr, AITA?

TL;DR, My two year old cousin is the “only” grandson in the family. The family ignores my male identity and my baby cousin’s five year old sister to fawn over the two year old. Am I The Asshole for pointing this out point blank in front of the whole family on Christmas morning?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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httpknjoon · 11 months

Text

(re)starting over again | kth; 12

plot | Your four-year relationship with Taehyung was going well and strong. Until he was involved in a car accident, resulting to him losing some memories. By some, it means everything that happened five years ago. Things he remember? His friends, his bakeshop, and his ex girlfriend from the past. With that, you tried to keep up, restarting over again.

words | 5.3k

genres | fluff, angst, amnesia au

pairing | taehyung x reader

warning/s | mentions of death, drinking, disease (cancer)

note | surpisingly, i am still alive lol i'm kidding. i apologize for the delay! the bad headaches are now gone and the fever has cooled down. and now, the update's here! to everyone who sent their messages, tysm I appreciate it 🥺 I didn't mean to ghost y'all, I'm so sorry! anw hope u enjoy reading this one :)

main masterlist | series masterlist

Ever since you were young, you liked things to go the way you planned it. When you were younger, you carried a small notebook with you. Your father gave you your first one during the holidays when you were seven. In there, you make your own little bullet journal, listing off the things you would want to do for the upcoming days. With your messy handwriting, you even wrote your far future plans.

As a child, you used to see things with your rose-colored glasses. Everything seemed real and attainable for your small hands. You thought you just had to follow the usual path of your plans and you would be fine. But things do not always go according to plan. You learned it the hard way.

You always dreamt of being a nurse. At age eight, you were a frequent visitor to the hospital. Not because you were sick yourself, but because you and your mom had to go back there from time to time with your dad who was receiving treatment for his disease. You wanted to take care of him. So you did what a little girl could do, listen to your dad’s heartbeat through your plastic toy stethoscope and kiss his pain away. He would always call you his favorite nurse and you would give him your toothy grin. After a year, when you were nine, he lost his battle with cancer.

Confused and in sorrow, you almost crossed out that dream from your list. You had a hard time understanding why you had to lose your dad at such an early age. Your friends had dads, how come you lost yours before you could even reach middle school? Then, you became angry. Your father was always in treatment in the hospital. Hospitals are meant to cure people, right? Your little kid brain thought. It felt unfair to you.

But then, you and your mom later left the small neighborhood you were living in and moved in with your aunt– her older sister. Aunty Belle is a nurse herself, a surprise for you as you didn’t know you have a relative who works in the same place you loathed at that time. But you couldn’t bring yourself to hate her, she was warm and welcoming when you arrived in her humble abode in Incheon. She doesn’t have a family of her own so she took good care of you and your mom. She became your third parent while your mom deals with the grief of losing her husband.

“It’s fun. You get to meet wonderful people every day and help them to feel better.” your aunt replied once when you asked her about her job.

Aunty Belle never got tired of your questions and curiosity about nursing. Slowly, you began rebuilding your plans. The dream of being a nurse is back, added with your other dreams: making your mom happy, and living independently (like your aunt). You studied hard, aiming for higher grades and going to the best college for your dreams.

But at age fifteen, Aunty Belle became your legal guardian when your mom passed. Through your aunt, you learned that your mother has been struggling heavier than you expected. Your aunt was extremely worried for your mom that’s why she begged her to come and live with her. You always thought your mom was getting better with how she cried less day by day and even took a job as a receptionist in a dental clinic.

Since then, you have become more understanding and emotionally sensitive to everyone. The feelings you had years ago when you lost your dad were creeping around you. This time, instead of being angry at something else, you felt like this one was on you. You blamed yourself for not seeing the signs from your mother’s eyes. How she became more reserved or how her eyes were often blank whenever she tried to smile for you. Maybe you were too focused on reaching your plans that you didn’t give any attention to her. You were angry, hurt, and in guilt. It’s too overwhelming and is heavy in your heart. It reached the point where you broke down during breakfast, in front of the toast and bacon Aunty Belle prepared for you, weeks after your mom’s funeral.

“I should’ve seen it. I should have seen that she was not okay.” you sniffed as you looked down your plate. “I was supposed to make her feel better and happy.”

Crying, you pushed your plate in front of you and just covered your face with your palms. You repeated the words over and over again like you were reminding yourself how you failed as your mom’s only child.

“Oh, sweetie…” your aunt whispered before sitting beside you and enveloping you in a hug. Her hand moved up and down your arms, making you feel warm. “It’s not your fault. You are the best daughter she could ask for. She loves you more than anything else.”

After that morning, Aunty Belle made sure to get you the best help. She guided you in everything she could and supported you with your choices. She made sure that you will still pursue your plans, never stopping you from doing what you want. Years later, you graduated from high school and were about to embark on a new journey.

“You know that you can just have this place,” she mumbled when you were packing your things. “I’m selling it anyway.”

“But Aunty, this isn’t in my plan. You know how bad I want to live in Seoul.” you smiled at her.

Because of your efforts and hard work, you got accepted into one of the best universities in another city. You later moved from Incheon to Seoul to finish your studies and become a nurse there. While Aunty Belle sold her home and followed her own plans of living with her longtime best friends under one roof.

But none of what happened in the last few years was part of your plans when you were younger. You didn’t really see yourself coming back to Incheon after living in Seoul for the longest time. You never thought you would leave your job in the hospital you dreamed of and work in a slightly different environment.

Two years ago, you left home. The house you had plans in with someone else. You were the one who broke off those plans and moved away without really telling anyone. You remembered that night like it was yesterday.

Every step you took away from him felt like a piece of you fell on the ground. Your vision was all blurry and you had to cover your lips as you sobbed. You clutched onto your gown while you remind yourself that you need to do this. For the sake of your own being. But still, there is this voice telling you to stay– to turn around and come back to him.

“YN, honey,”

Looking up, you see Julia looking at you with sympathy. She walked towards you with open arms and you immediately just broke down on her dress. Listening to your sobs, Julia eyes her date, whom you didn’t notice was there waiting too, to get in the car.

Your whispered voice muffled in the hug, “I hate this so much,”

The whole drive home, Julia and Chanyeol respected your silence in the backseat. They put on some radio music and chatted about the wedding while your teary eyes just looked outside the window. They were like your parents that night. When you guys passed by McDonald’s, it took one nudge from Julia to make Chanyeol turn the car back around for the drive-thru. She ordered your food for you in a separate bag so you could have something to eat when you reached home. When you arrived in front of your house, they helped you with your small bag.

“Thank you so much, guys. I’m sorry this is our first meeting, Chanyeol.” you tried to lighten the mood as you three stood on the porch.

He smiled, “It’s fine. Everyone has their bad day.”

You chuckled before Julia nudged her again with her elbow. Then, she turns to you.

“What time are you leaving tomorrow?”

“Probably early morning. I already have the keys to keep my apartment so I can go there now too if I want to.” your words rambled as your head felt like a mess.

“Okay, call me. I’ll pick you up–” Before you can say anything, she lifts her finger. “And no, I won’t take no for an answer. I wanna see your new place.”

They left after Julia made sure you were fine. Walking into your house for the last time, you tried to go straight to your room to change from your gown to your pajamas. Then, you cried again. And again. And again.

The last time you woke up in that house was the morning after that. You woke up before dawn. The sky was barely lit and the moon was still present above you. You promised yourself that you would leave like a ghost. Like what you have been doing the last few days. Cleaning up, your hand ran on your bedsheets to smoothen out the wrinkles. Fortunately, almost ninety percent of your clothes fit in two pieces of luggage. You just have to leave a few things that you’ll probably get when you get back.

From Julia

Will be there in five

Five minutes left, you find yourself sitting in front of your vanity mirror. Making one last check, you pulled the small drawers in the table. That’s when you saw that old pearl ring Taehyung bought you in the flea market. A heavy sigh from your chest makes its way out of your lips. Holding it between your thumb and index finger, you stare at it.

We tried, didn’t we?

Before any tears can fall, you simply close your eyes. Your chest heaves. You clutched that ring in your palm for some minute, like you were giving your one last goodbye. Then, you carefully place it next to your keys. You decided to leave your keys as you don’t want to come and go here in secret as you always have the tendency to do that especially if you want to avoid a person. Like you were doing now. You want to come back here better and hopefully, talk to Taehyung in the future.

Feel at home, this house is yours too. Paint the walls with the colors you like, buy new furniture, and fill the frames with new memories. Just please don’t sell it. I’ll try to reach out as soon as I can. For now, live the last years you missed.

You wrote on a piece of paper that you left on the same table. In the weeks you two lived together after the accident, you knew how he struggled to adjust to this house. Now that you’re going, you wish for him to feel comfortable in this house you two shared and called home. The pieces of furniture and shade of blue that took over every wall in the house were picked by both you and Taehyung when you bought it. The frame kept every memory you and Taehyung love to look back on in the span of your four-year relationship. But if it means for him to feel at home, you won’t mind if he wants to change things around the house. Even though it will probably break your heart harder than it is now.

“You…”

It was only your first morning, the second day in your new apartment in Incheon when someone came knocking on your door. You were still organizing your place and unpacking when you heard continuous heavy knocks. Almost instantly, your eyes widened when you saw who it was through your door’s peephole. The person spoke again as soon as you opened your door.

“You moved?!” Jisoo immediately pushed through your door and welcomed herself in. “You moved here?!”

Based on the tone of her voice, she was more angry than surprised. Her eyebrows were scrunched together while her nose flared. Her hands were on her hips like she was waiting for an explanation. Your lips opened for a second before it closed again. You softly scratched your cheek before opening your lips again,

“I-I thought you were on your honeymoon vacation.”

She tilts her head, “Well, I’m not. Am I?”

“Why are you here?” you mumbled, sounding scared at her.

The thing is, Jisoo rarely gets angry or annoyed. You had known her ever since you began working as a nurse and you learned she have the longest patience for everyone else. But when she runs out of it, you don’t know how she will react.

“Why are you here?” she returned your question with raised eyebrows. “You did not tell me you were moving here or resigning in the hospital! What happened?”

You closed the door and quietly walked back to your messy living room since you knew she would follow. She did and continued,

“I saw the shift schedule like two hours ago and you’re not there. I had to ask Gail and she said you resigned. You were not answering my calls or messages! I had to call Julia. Then, she told me you moved here– What the fuck happened? I was only busy for like two weeks and next thing I know, my best friend’s in another city and hospital.”

You sat on your grey couch while Jisoo still stood in front of you. You looked away as your replied,

“Well, actually I’ll be working in a school–”

Jisoo’s tone went higher, “What?!”

“I applied as a school nurse–”

“No, no, no.” she shushed you. “Tell me everything that happened. Everything.”

So you did. But first, you asked her to sit down next to you. You ordered food by app as you don’t really have any stock of food at the moment. While you were waiting for the food, you began telling her about what happened. From how you met Lily to how you happened to be where you are right now. Jisoo listened intently. As you went on, you noticed her shoulders and facial expression softened up. From her jaw being clenched tight, her lips were formed into a slight frown. You tried not to cry throughout the whole story-telling impromptu but your voice did shake and you just felt your best friend’s warm hands somewhere in the middle of your story. At the end, you find yourself leaning your head on her shoulder while she leans hers on top.

“I and Joon just decided to go on honeymoon next month. Plus, I have a toaster and an air fryer in my car.” Jisoo broke the comfortable silence you two shared with a random sentence.

You lifted your head, looking at her, “What? Why?”

“We received like a ton of it from the wedding. We had to give some stuff away rather than selling it and I just knew your place is probably still empty. So I just bought some. I have plates too.” she smiled.

“But what if I was the one who gave you that toaster?” you asked, squinting your eyes.

“You did not.” she chuckled but your expression didn’t change. She blinked and asked with a feeble voice, “You did not, right?”

Your lips broke into a smile, “Yeah, we didn’t.”

She pouted before you two laughed and hugged. Just like that, you and Jisoo are okay.

Unlike any of your past decisions, nothing was truly planned when you decided to move away. Aunty Belle, whom you visit every now and then, comforted you about it and said that life just happens like that sometimes. And that’s how your two years went. Unplanned. You just applied for the first good job you saw, which happened to be being a school nurse in a preschool. You moved to another apartment after just a few months since your initial place is farther on the subway you always take to get to the school every morning.

Working with kids, you always miss your patients back in Seoul. Particularly, Naeun, whom you are still in contact with. You visit her a couple of times when you go to Seoul.

And there were times when you thought you saw Taehyung. Not just in Seoul, but also in Incheon. The first one was just months after you left, you were on your way to preschool when you saw him in the subway. But you thought it was just a look-alike and impossible since he would not have any reason to come here. Plus, you were feeling a little down that week as it was supposedly your fifth anniversary. The next time is when you come to Seoul to visit Naeun. It was a busy Sunday and you stopped by a toy store in the mall to get a gift for your favorite patient. It was a bit crowded since it was on sale. So you lost him in the blink of an eye.

The most recent one is when you came to Seoul for Julia’s birthday. You had a few drinks with your friends and everything was already slightly blurry. But you swore you saw him when you were waiting for your Uber late at night. You were with Julia, who was waiting with you just to make sure you’d be safe. She was talking about something but your eyes caught a man walking on the other side of the road with his head down on his phone. The small light coming from his screen made you recognize him. It’s him, you’re sure.

Although you have visited the city a couple of times already, you never drop by the bakeshop or the house. You never even contacted Taehyung. There were times it crossed your mind. But you never did. You miss him. God knows, how much. But you don’t know what to say about the house, him, you, or the relationship you two had.

You and Jimin talked seldomly. The first one was a week after you and Taehyung officially went separate ways. He would ask how are you and you would do the same thing. You were surprised but happy at the same time when you learned he had a kid, who happens to be Jisoo’s nephew. You two had this unspoken rule to not talk about Taehyung because Jimin doesn’t bring him up and you are too shy to ask. But you know they are doing well, you heard they expanded the shop.

In the whole two years, Taehyung never really left your mind. It’s hard. Especially when you would still get random reminders of your relationship in unexpected ways. In what was supposed to be your fifth anniversary, you got a scheduled e-mail from his account. Every year, your phone calendar still updates you to buy him a gift a month before his birthday. And just like last month, you found an old picture in one of your bags. Something you probably slipped there long ago. It’s a picture taken years ago during your first snow in your house with a handwritten caption, TOO MORE SNOWY DAYS TOGETHER. It was in his handwriting.

“Goodbye, Nurse YN!”

A little kid waved his little hand to you while his mom politely smiled at you. You waved back and continued walking back from your small clinic. This is how your day ends in school: tiny voices saying goodbye and sometimes giving you warm hugs. You were never really busy since you worked with two other school nurses who you became friends with.

“Oh, hey, YN.”

You just sat in front of your computer screen, recording some student’s health records, when your co-nurse popped into your shared office. Martha just found her recent hobby a couple of months ago after you told her that you haven’t been dating for the last couple of years.

You exaggeratedly sighed and did not even look at her, “What do you want?”

“YN sounds so tired of you already.” Aileen, your other co-nurse, laughed while organizing her files.

“I know, she is.” Martha chuckled. She turns to you, “I know a guy…”

You paused from what you were doing, “Martha–”

It’s not like you’re not interested in dating. It took you more than a year to be open again to the idea and so far, you’ve gone into two dates from Martha’s recommendations. But both were not a match. The first one is a great guy but he seems like he cannot get over an ex since he talked about her half of the time. While the second guy is just rude. That’s all you can say about him. The date was all about him not liking how the steak was cooked and how one of the waiters was too kind to you. It was horrible.

“No, no, honey. Listen to me first.” Matha cuts you off. “I personally know this guy. He’s my cousin and… he also works in the medical field! He’s a doctor.”

An eyebrow raised. A doctor? Well, you never dated one before. But you knew doctors were better than that last guy you mentioned.

Aileen joined, “Is he the one you showed me earlier?

“Yup,” Martha replied, popping the ‘p’ sound.

“Oh, you’ve got to see him, YN. The guy is gorgeous!” she exclaimed. “If you won’t date him, I will!”

The three of you laughed. Of course, Aileen can’t. She is currently seven months pregnant with her second child and married to one of the teachers in this same preschool.

“Just don’t tell Seb,” she added, mentioning her husband.

You still haven’t said anything even though you are admittedly interested. Martha pulled her phone out.

“Wait, I’ll show you his account.”

“Oh, that dress suits you perfectly!”

Jisoo’s voice filled your room as you fixed the dress on your body. Even though you two are in different cities, she is still your go-to every time you need to dress up for something. Usually, through Facetiming. The date is fine-dining. So, you tried on different dresses for Jisoo to pick on and eventually, you two agreed on the same one.

“Don’t forget your coat! It might get cold,” she advised. “Now, turn around again!”

You giggled before doing what she said. You heard her cheer and compliments, making you smile.

“You are stunning!”

“Thank you so much for helping me, Jiji,” you said with a small smile.

“You’re welcome. Just have fun, okay? Let me know how it goes later.” she told you and you nodded. She spoke again, “Now, go! Book that Uber already.”

“Okay, okay. Bye! Call you later. Love you!” you waved.

She waved back, “Love you, take care!”

You ended the call and moved to another app to look for a ride. Your date initially asked if you wanted him to pick you up. But you just agreed to meet him at the restaurant he invited you to. He seems nice. Martha said her cousin has been single for a while now. After his last relationship, he just gave most of his time to work.

To +82 65 78** ****

Hi! I’m on my way. See you there.

You sent your date the message when you finally got in the car you booked twenty minutes ago. It did not even take a few minutes before he replied,

From +82 65 78** ****

Okay, see you there! Take care.

Pursing your lips, you look outside the window of the moving car. You hope for the best for tonight. You hope Martha’s recommendation is at least okay this time. Maybe the universe could prove to you that Taehyung is not the only guy in the world who could make the butterflies play around in your stomach. Or the only guy who would be patient enough with your tendencies. You just have to know that he is not the only guy in the world. Period.

As much as you won’t say it, dating Taehyung for four years made him your standard for everything. You already met two versions of him; one before the accident and one after the accident. They are almost the same person but the latter just brought you a lot of pain because of various circumstances. But you know and feel he shows his emotions in other ways.

“We’re here.” the female driver, whom you saw is Val, said as she stopped the car in front of the brightly lit restaurant.

You smiled before getting out of the vehicle, “Thank you.”

Starry Night lives up to its name. As you noticed before, the whole place is lit up with many lights. Carefully, you walked inside with your strappy heels. The staff smiled and greeted you, and you greeted them back.

“Good evening, madam. Welcome to Starry Night. How may I help you?”

“I have a reservation under Jung Hoseok’s name.” you politely replied.

“Oh, okay. Let me check our list. Excuse me.” the host scrolled down his iPad for a minute. “The name’s here! Please, follow me to your table. This way please.”

You followed him while looking around the place. It’s not too crowded and it has a romantic feeling because of the lights and jazz music. You know someone who would have loved to go here. Before you sit down, the host assisted you with the chair and offered to take your coat. You agreed. Pulling out your phone from your purse, you update Hoseok that you just arrived. You put your phone down and studied the whole place again with your eyes.

A woman caught your eye. She was talking and chatting with the chef in the side station. They looked like they were waiting for someone to enter the door. Your gaze were broke off when someone spoke from your side.

“Good evening, ma’am. My name is Soojin and I’ll be your waiter for tonight. Would you like to order something?” the young waiter smiled.

“Oh, I’m still waiting for my date…” you murmured. “But can I have some water please?”

“Certainly, ma’am. Excuse me.”

Soojin left as you said thank you. As she was gone from your sight, your eyes landed on the man who was entering the restaurant. Dressed in a nice black coat over a light blue shirt, you quickly recognize him. Your mouth runs dry while your heart beats like a horse’s footsteps in a race. You were frozen.

What is he doing he– Fuck.

Your eyes meet. You can see his eyes widening as his lips gaped slightly. His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down while you practically lost your hearing. All you can hear is the drum inside your chest.

Fuck, you cursed again.

What are the chances for this to happen? Is the universe playing or simply fucking with you? You asked for a great date and it gave you this. The man you’ve been holding as your standard ever since.

It burns.

His eyes. You can feel them as you take a sip from the ice-cold glass of water. After the host led him to one of the empty tables in your line, your eyes traveled everywhere except on his spot. You two were literally just an empty table apart.

Is he here for a date? Why here? In Incheon, really? Can’t he just date people from Seoul?

It has been nine minutes, you’ve been counting. Your hand rests on your knee, to stop your knees from jerking up and down, while the other rests on the table with your phone. You’ve been texting but erasing messages to Hoseok. You don’t think you can do this. With Taehyung being just a few feet away from you, it felt wrong to be with someone else. You should have been sitting right in front of him.

Slowly, you try to move your eyes in his direction. You paused when you saw that he was staring at you too, unmovable. Are you supposed to smile? Wave? Nod. just nod. You were about to do that when the same woman from the side station walked up to him, covering your view of him.

“Hi, good evening!” you heard her honey-like voice greet him. “I’m Ashley.”

You noticed Taehyung stood up. They shake hands and you don’t really hear the rest of their conversation. You began texting your date,

To +82 65 78** ****

Hi. Where are you?

You’ve been alone for a while now.

Taehyung noticed. The glass of water on your table is almost empty. The waiter already come back to you a couple of times now. He can see you chewing on your lower lip as you check your phone every minute that passes by.

Did your date just stand you up?

His hands clutched as he thought of that idea. He knew you didn’t deserve that.

“I think this is good! Not too sweet, not too spiced. It’s soft too. Just perfect.” Ashley snapped him from his thoughts.

Taehyung tried to concentrate on what he originally meant to do here, “Yeah… uhm… Jimin, my friend, really tries to balance the texture and taste. It’s his own carrot cake recipe that he worked on before we even had the shop.”

Ashley already had a taste of every cake he brought. Five open Tupperware are on their table, including the cheesecake you love. She began talking about the other cakes and dessert while Taehyung stole some glances at you again. This time, you are on call. You pursed your lips before replying to whoever it was. He can read the disappointment through your eyes as your lips form into a small frown. You sighed before saying, it’s fine, I understand. No problem.

“Okay, these are really good. I think your products will be a great addition to our menu.” Ashley spoke again.

Taehyung looked at her with surprise, “Oh, wow. That’s… great.”

Did he just get this deal?

“Yeah, I trusted my chef when he said he had the best Tiramisu in your shop and I’m glad I did. These desserts are perfect and really satisfy my sweet tooth.” She compliments.

Taehyung bowed his head, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Your desserts deserve to be everywhere. Haven’t you guys thought of opening a branch here?” she asked.

“Oh, we’re still figuring things out. We just expanded our main shop in Seoul.” he chuckled.

“Well, I might go there when I visit Seoul.”

“Please do and let us know.” he smiled.

“I will. By the way, the contract is not ready now. But we are definitely having this deal! Can you and Jimin visit here again next week or maybe me and my head chef can visit your shop in Seoul?” Ashley offers.

“I still have to discuss that with my friend.”

“Oh, sure. Sure. Here, we are okay with any decision. Just let us know. You guys have our e-mail and numbers, right?” Taehyung nods. “Okay, I guess… that’s a done deal.”

Ashley stood up and offered her hand. Taehyung stood up too and shook her hand.

“Thank you so much.” Taehyung smiled.

While Ashley replied, he stole another glance behind her. That’s when he sees you standing up and walking back to the host at the entrance of the restaurant. The host had an apologetic look on his face as you talked to him. He helped you with your coat. It seems like you’re leaving with your date being a no-show.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. But I would have to go for now..” Taehyung carefully said.

Ashley smiled, “Oh, of course. Yes. You can go. But one more thing… can you leave these cakes?”

Taehyung chuckled with that, “Of course!”

“Thank you! See you in the contract signing!”

“See you.”

Taehyung took his coat from his seat and left in a hurry. You were already gone, possibly out of the restaurant. He said thank you to the staff who opened the door for him and he immediately searched around. That’s when he sees you standing, looking down at your phone.

“This one’s just a few minutes away–”

He took a deep breath before saying, “YN?”

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RESTARTING OVER AGAIN TAGLIST [🔧🔨 ]

@iamkookiesforyou @aianloveseven @hoodalmighty @taebangtanbabe @kthsmoon @nooojaaam @hiimnothing @hiqhkey @annenakamura @taebangtanbabe @shin-ie @prlan @starlight-night0 @teddybeartaetae @http-fayeradise @tannies-luv @betysotelo18 @honsoolgloss @aurorathi @paulaaa97 @satisfied18 @telepathytae @talkyoongitome

PERMANENT TAGLIST

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @ficluvr613 @misshale21

#bts angst #bts x reader #bts series #taehyung angst #taehyung fluff #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung series #bts amnesia #taehyung amnesia #bts established relationship au #taehyung established relationship #restarting over again kth

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cameronspecial · 6 months

Text

The People We Used To Be

Pairing: Musician! Rafe Cameron x Musician! Reader

Warnings: Rafe being an asshole

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 8.5K

Summary: Music brought together Y/N and Rafe, but he pulled them apart. After seven years, a competition to win a recording deal brings them back together and they are forced to confront their past.

A/N: Inspired by @ghostofwriting's Kildare Spilt series which is absolutely amazing and you have to check it out if you haven't already. The songs in the fic are "Traitor" by Olivia Rodrigo (Altered to fit the fic) and "Right My Wrongs" by Bryson Tiller. I didn't write them.

Masterlist

Music has a way of making the world make sense for Y/N and Rafe. The Pogue and the Kook met at a Mommy and Me music class their mothers took them to as toddlers. Their mothers and each other helped foster a love for the art and it became even more of a necessity when they lost their mothers. Rafe was the first one to lose his mother. Margaret Cameron had been battling cancer for two years before her passing and it completely destroyed her eight-year-old son. Every Kook he knew tried to help him with his grief, except the one person who could actually get through to him didn’t live on Figure Eight. Instead of crying in his room in Tannyhill, he found himself riding his bike to a small bungalow on the Cut. It was in that small house where a little girl sat on the front porch with a guitar that was too big for her, trying to play “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper. Her mom’s favourite song. The sound of the chain of his bike caused her to freeze and look up from the strings. “You are getting better,” he praised, getting off his bike to walk it up the small driveway. She gave him a smile that showed him she wasn’t afraid to be happy during his time of mourning. She didn’t walk on eggshells around him and he loved it. It made him feel normal, like before his mom got sick. She beckoned him to the porch swing with her hand, “Come sing with me.” He crossed his arms over his chest and shook his head. “Nuh-uh, that’s a girl song,” he argued.

The front door opened and out came Melody Y/L/N. Her smile matched her daughter. “Now, Rafe. Have I not taught you anything about music? There is no such thing as a boy song or a girl song. Or a Pogue song or a Kook song. As long as it speaks to you, it is meant for you. Now, why don’t we all sing together?” Those words touched him and it would continue to do so well into adulthood. And it was that afternoon when Rafe started to heal from the pain of a dead mother. Playing music with the Y/L/N women and being happy made him feel closer to his mom than any condolences from other people.

———

Y/N lost her mother at twelve years old. The real kicker was that the universe decided that the day the girl would turn into a young lady was the day of her mother’s funeral. Her mother was a lively person and requested in her will that people wear their favourite colour to her funeral. So Y/N wore light blue to the burial. When she went to the bathroom after returning home, she was greeted with a massive red stain in her underwear. It felt as though the world had ended. Melody may have talked to her daughter about the logistics of dealing with a period, but Y/N couldn’t remember a word of what her mother had said and she began to panic. She locked herself in the bathroom after her dad gave her a new pair of underwear and some of her mom’s leftover pads. Other than that, he had no idea what else to do to get his daughter out. His wife was gone and his daughter was dealing with a problem he had never experienced before. He felt hopeless until he thought of the one person who could help.

Ward dropped off his son in front of the one-story yellow house, telling his son he could sleep over if Y/N needed someone. Rafe walked into the house as if he lived there and went straight to the bathroom door. “Hey, Rock Star. I heard you were feeling bad. I brought you some KitKats, dulce de leche ice cream and some Tylenol,” he announces, looking through the bag. “My mo- My mom used to say eating sweets made her feel better.” She didn’t respond; instead, she remained seated on the floor against the bathtub. Her head was on her knees to catch the tears coming from her eyes, wishing her mom could be here to help her through it. Rafe sighed, worried his friend would never leave that room again. Since food didn’t work, he only knew one other thing that might be able to get her out. If it didn’t work, then he didn’t know what would. He ran to the living room and flipped through the CD holder, looking for a specific one. He finally found it and took it out. He set it in the CD player and dragged it into the hallway. He plugged it in, skipping to the perfect song. The notes began to play and he shook his hips in synch with it. “I come home, in the morning light,” he started to sing with Cyndi. She could hear his exaggerated shrieks from inside her confides. He was definitely doing it to goad her out. “I think I’m a great singer. What do you think, Rock Star?” he screamed from the other side of the door. She sat there for a little longer, listening to his horrible singing.

Eventually, she had to save her poor ears from the torture. His singing dimmed in volume at the click of the lock. He saw her feet tapping and he knew it was only a matter of time before she joined in with him. Once she started singing with him, he switched to his real singing voice. The slant of her lips was still in a frown, but it was still an improvement from not wanting to see anyone. And once again, music helped the children grieve the loss of an important woman in their lives.

———

Her foot taps against the floor as she bites her nails. The earplugs she is wearing help dampen the sound from the stage. She can’t believe he is here. It really shouldn’t be a surprise. This competition would launch the winner’s career. Y/N hasn’t seen him in seven years and hasn’t played with him for just as long. Kiara comes from behind her and rests a palm on her shoulder. Kie has been touring with Y/N’s band for three years now. As soon as she graduated high school, she hit the road and became the Melodies’ personal assistant. They both turn to look at the lead singer of Just Wanna Have Fun as he sings while strumming his electric guitar. He turns so she can see the back of his guitar and she spots the beam note with their initial in each of the ovals of the notes. R and Y/I/N. She is surprised he hasn’t painted over it already. Each band gets to play three songs and when she hears the next song he decides to play, she can’t stand on the sideline and watch them perform anymore. She turns around and heads into the lounge area for the musicians. How dare he play that song?

He could feel her gaze on her throughout his first set. He should’ve figured she would be here. If he thought she was, he wouldn’t have played the next set. He finishes his part of the duet and he looks to the side of the stage to see her while Frank sings the verse that used to belong to Y/N. Disappointment flashes across his eyes at the empty spot where she was. This is the first time he gets to see her in seven years and of course, he has to screw it up. He gets so caught up in the past that he almost misses his verse.

———

The cool air tickled their skin as her head rested on his stomach. The new electric guitar his dad bought him for his fourteenth birthday lay beside them. “Do you ever worry about us not being friends anymore?” she thought out loud, staring up at a cloud that looked a little like a bunny. He frowns at her and lifts his head up to look at her, “No, why in the world would I think about that?”

“We are total opposites, Rafe. You are a Kook. I’m a Pogue. You are destined for a life of greatness while I’m meant to be stuck on my side of the island.”

He laughs, “That’s absolutely ridiculous because we are both meant to be in a band together and become so famous that the members of Pink Floyd will be jealous.”

He could see the seriousness of her question and sat up, taking her with him. She now sat across from him and he took her hand into his. “But seriously though, all that stuff doesn’t matter. Not when we have music. It’s like your mom used to say. Music isn’t meant for one type of person. As long as it speaks to you, it is meant for you. And that logic is the same for us. We speak to each other, so we are meant for each other,” he promised. He scooted to his backpack and got out a Sharpie. He sat back down beside her, flipping his guitar onto his lap. “What are you doing?” she questioned. She slid in closer to him. He uncapped the marker and began to draw a beam note. He looked up at her with a smile, “Proving to you that we will never stop being friends.” He put his initial in the first note and handed the marker over to her. She got the message, writing her initial in the other note. He took the marker back to cap it. “There. Now, as long as this is here, we will be friends forever.” She giggled at his remark, thinking it would eventually fade; however, what she didn’t know was that he forced his dad to get something to seal the writing that very night.

———

Y/N will never get over the feeling of being on stage. Whether she is playing for a crowd of one or a hundred, all she needs is to share what she loves with people willing to listen. She smiles at the camera Kiara flashes in her face and takes the towel Kie hands to her. The fabric removes the sweat from her forehead, staining with makeup in the process. She makes her way to the lounge to put her stuff away so she can wait out the other bands until they announce who is going to make it to the next round. Her usual routine after a gig is to take a breather outside by herself. She needs the outside air to cool her down and let her think, so her bandmates give her the space she needs as she heads out the backdoor. She breathes in the cool air, slamming against the rough brick wall. So far, she has been able to contain her emotions about seeing him again. Yet, finally being able to focus on her feelings, makes her realize that she is still hurt by what he did all those years ago. She trusted him with all of her heart and he broke that trust. How could someone she loved so much betray her so badly?

“It’s been seven years and you still haven’t changed, Rock Star.” The voice snaps her out of her thoughts. Her head swivels in his direction, rolling her eyes at him. “Neither have you because I’m guessing you are here to smoke. You know those things will kill you, right?” she retorts, looking in the opposite direction. He chuckles, “Yeah, this girl I used to know a while back told me that all the time.” She doesn’t join in his playfulness. “You know what, I’m just going to go back inside,” she decides, pushing off of the wall to head to the door. He reaches for her wrist to stop her. She stops at the contact and he flicks the cigarette bud on the floor. He stomps it out. His gaze finds her again and at the disapproving look on her face, he picks it up and throws it in the garbage. He points toward the door, “I’ll go. I recognize how much you need these moments alone. I’ll see you back inside.” He steps toward the doorway, pausing to glance at her over his shoulder. “It was nice to see you in person again.” She scoffs, “I wish I could say the same.” This digs another shallow hole in his heart and he lets the door slam shut behind him. Once he is gone, she slides down the wall, resting her head on her knees with her eyes closed. Is a record deal with one of the best recording labels really worth the regauging of old wounds?

Rafe heads to the bathroom, the inside of his cheek caught between his teeth. The decision to use the individual bathroom is easy; he doesn’t want anyone to walk in on his mental breakdown. His hand twists the cold facet and splashes the water onto his face. The shock of the temperature aids him in rearranging his thoughts. At the sight of her broken heart, it killed him that he wasn’t able to drag her into his hold and whisper how sorry he was for letting them get to this point. After all their time apart, every single detail that he remembers about her is the same. Her lavender perfume remains his favourite smell in the world. The dark fuschia lipstick is the one he picked out for her when she started wearing makeup. And she relies on the tiny taps of her feet in rhythm with the song playing in her head.

———

Rafe watches her from his spot in front of the stage. The area designated for the bands to stand in during the elimination announcement isn’t as crowded as the general admission behind him. Two bands are going to be eliminated. It isn’t a lot, yet it doesn’t guarantee Just Wanna Have Fun is going to continue in the competition. He hopes the Melodies advance, certainly because the longer they both stay, the more chances he has at making things right between them. All he wants is to get back what they had and maybe what they didn’t get the opportunity. That wish is quickly submerged by a wave from a passing jet ski.

The jet ski is probably two inches shorter than Rafe. His light brown curly hair goes passed the bottom of his ear and looks like a flat mane. The green eyes stare at Y/N with adoration that only Rafe should be allowed to direct toward her. What really destroys Rafe is when that five o’clock shadow brushes against Y/N’s skin to give her a kiss on the cheek. Garrett notices Rafe’s gaze and shoves the glarer with his shoulder. “Stop staring. You look creepy,” Garrett orders, turning back to the stage. As Rafe is about to obey the suggestion, he catches the way Y/N leans against the chest of the mystery man, causing a bubble of nausea to form in his stomach. The screech of a microphone calls the attention of everyone in the crowd. A short woman with blue hair and black lips angles the bulb toward her, “Everyone played beautifully tonight, but unfortunately, you all can’t join us next week. Just as a reminder every week, two bands will be eliminated. Now, for the moment you have all been waiting for.” She takes a pause to unfold the paper with the names of the unlucky musicians and her cheerful demeanour shifts to one of sorrow. “I’m sorry to announce that Dex the Sex and Heartaches will not be playing on this stage again next week.” The bands closest to the exiled ones express their condolences, while the ones further away can be seen celebrating the small victory. Rafe turns to hug his bandmates and can’t help but risk a glance at her. Her arms are around her supposed boyfriend’s neck and their chest are pressed against each other.

The green-eyed monster tickles his heart. His legs move in advance of his brain processing his emotions. The tips of his navy blue converses touch her black leather boots. He notices the way the man’s arm around her waist slightly tightens so that the veins in his arms are prominent and the sharp jaw clenches. Rafe eventually has the confidence to look in her eyes and her distaste for him marinates in them. His fingers go to scratch the back of his ear, “Congrats on making it to the next round. You… you played great. Was the last song new?” She leans forward in the man’s hold and some of her hatred cools down. “Thanks, it is. Something I came up with last week. We’ve been working late nights to perfect it for tonight. You sounded great tonight too,” she says barely above a whisper. The man behind her looks between the ex-bandmates and extends his hand out, “I’m Knox, Y/N’s boyfriend. It’s nice to meet you, Rafe.”

Rafe grips Knox’s hand a little too tight with a straight smile. “It’s nice to meet you too,” he placates, wondering how much trouble he would get into for punching the idiot. It would be unwarranted for sure, yet it doesn’t stop his urge to want to do it. Feeling the start of a cock fight brewing, Y/N steps in. “We didn’t eat dinner before the show, so we are going to go… do that.” She breaks away from her boyfriend’s hold and takes his hand, following her friends toward the exit. Her cold demeanour might have made someone else lose spirit. Someone who didn’t know Y/N. Rafe knows otherwise though. He was able to crack the glaze of her harshness. He isn’t letting that victory go.

———

His feet ache after a late-night practice. They had gotten the last timeslot for practice at the venue today, not that Rafe minds. He works better at night because it is when he needs a distraction the most. She was there earlier, so he didn’t get to see her. The smell of her perfume followed him wherever he went while he was there. They haven’t had any encounters since that night. It doesn’t surprise him; she is obviously avoiding him. It hurts him more than hell and he knows he deserves it because he did something a hundred times worse to her. The echo of his footsteps is the sole sound in his vast apartment. This has been his house for five years, except it doesn’t feel like home. Not when it doesn’t have that touch of her like his room at Tannyhill does.

———

“God, could your room look any more like a stereotypical teenage boy’s jerk off-centre?” she criticized, looking around the room with disgust in her eyes at the cluster of cups on his bedside table. Some of them had ring stains around the glass. He looked at her over his shoulder, “What are you talking about? All the guys I know have a room like this.” She points at the walls littered merely with car posters or bikini models. “Yeah, and that’s the problem. How can you call this place home if there is nothing that shows you are the one living here?” she argued. He gestured to the poster, “What do you think that is?”

“That shows me that any guy in my class lives here.”

“Like a Pogue could afford half of the stuff in this room.”

“Really, Rafe?”

“Right, sorry. Can you just get to the point? What do you think I should add then? What will make this place my home?”

“You need more personality in here. Pictures of people you love. Little trinkets. Plants. Music stuff. Love letters from a sweetheart.”

He chuckled, “Like you display your love letters. And why can’t my personality be cars and bikini posters.” “Because that’s every other straight cis-gendered boy's personality. You know, if you added more things, it would make a girl feel more comfortable in your room,” she attempted a different tactic. His brow arched, “Hmm, never thought about it that way. This isn’t the first time you’ve been in my room though. Why bring it up now?” “I’m tired of looking at this nasty-ass messy room. That’s why,” she admitted. He nodded, taking into consideration her opinion. He grabbed a piece of tape from his desk drawer and took out his wallet. She observes as he slides out a picture from the window slot. He tacked on the photo right above his desk. She couldn’t see what it was in, so she stepped forward. Her eyes welled up with tears at the sight. It was a picture of them. The memory of when the photo was taken comes to the forefront of her mind. They were twelve years old and he had just learnt a new chord on the guitar, so of course, he had to teach her it as well. His hands were placed over hers on the neck of the guitar, while he guided her fingers. “What’s this?” she stupidly questioned.

He grinned at her, “You told me to put up a picture of someone I loved and I did.” “And you just had that picture in your wallet this whole time?” she clarified. He shrugged, “Yep since I got it.” “That is very unexpected, Rafe,” she thought out loud. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “What do you expect, Rock Star? You’re my best friend. Of course, I love you.” The words stung her. It shouldn’t surprise her that was who he saw her as. She was a Pogue; she could never be more to him.

———

He should’ve brought that picture to New York with him. He did bring one thing over that reminded him of home. The music room in his apartment has everything he needs to write a song. It is the one place in his apartment that he doesn’t mind spending time in. There are so many ways for him to clear his mind here and it is where his bandmates like to hang out too. No matter how many times Frank (keyboardist), Garrett (bassist), Topper (drummer), and Barry (band manager) enter this room and know every inch of the room, they will never find his most precious possession. He kneels beside the drawer tower filled with various accessories for the instruments and pulls the bottom one open. He pushes down on the false bottom to reveal a stack of lined papers. They are rumpled from how many times he has read them over; he just couldn’t bring himself to send them or get rid of them. At first, he wrote them to apologize to her, but then he started to use it as a cathartic method. He allowed himself to express everything he had ever wanted to say to her in the letters and every time he needed a reminder of who they used to each other, he read them. His hope was that one day they would be the personalization their house needed to feel like home. It’s been a while since he wrote a new one; however, with her reappearance in his life, it feels time to write another.

Dear Rock Star,

Even after all this time, you still manage to find a way to have a hold on my heart. Maybe, it’s because I never sent the first letter, so we never got the closure we needed. But seeing you again made my heart feel like it was beating to the tune of its old song. Everything I felt for you came back like a tidal wave and all I wanted to do was hug the ever-loving shit out of you. And then he went to you. That wave I thought I could overcome became my undoing. It made me regret never reaching out to say I was sorry. I realized that your rejection of my apology would be a lot less painful than your moving on from me. It was bound to happen. How could it not when you are the most amazing person to have ever existed? I just dreamt that I could’ve found my way back into your life before it happened. But I didn’t and now, I have to stew in my consequences.

I sometimes wonder if you miss me as much as I miss you. I get that it is different for you. You were the one who got hurt instead of the one doing the hurting. I think you do. You may not admit it, but you responded to me. Maybe you wanted to seem professional and I can see that being your reason. Yet, your eyes told me something else. I’m not talking about when we talked. I’m talking about when I was on stage. You saw the beam note and I could see the yarning behind the hatred. You want to go back to that time just as much as I want to. I’m going to get us back to that place, I promise. We might not be able to be exactly the people we used to be; nevertheless, we can try. Because you still speak to me, Rock Star, and that means we are meant to be.

Loving you always,

Rafe

He sighs at the final stroke of the pen and caps it. He reads it over and over until it is all he can think about. The words have never felt more true to him and he makes a vow to himself to make it come true. If he can’t have back what they once had, then he will make damn sure he’ll earn the next best thing. He hears the jiggle of the front door handle and rapidly shoves everything back into the drawer. “Dude, why is it always so damn dark in here? Don’t you know how to turn on lights?” Topper teases from downstairs. “Where are you? Come out of the studio for once, will ya? We brought you food from that Turkish place.”

———

“I think maybe we should try you coming in later with the backup vocals, Debs. Why don’t we try again?” Y/N advises. At the nod from the other girls, Y/N faces the stage outward and grips the microphone with both hands. Viola counts them down, beginning the rhythm for everyone to join in. Y/N waits for her cue to sing; she has been the lead singer for the Melodies for seven years and she has yet to figure out what to do with her hands. When they started the band, they figured having two guitarists didn’t mesh well with their sound. So, she offered to drop the instrument for the band because Laila hates singing. She didn’t mind not being able to play on stage, except there were sometimes when she missed it. She’d even dare to say she missed playing with Just Wanna Hav Fun because she wanted the ability to shred some strings in a room bigger than her shoebox of an apartment. The note that signifies she comes in plays and she opens her mouth to sing. Her mind turns off, focusing entirely on hitting every note perfectly. Every time she gets to be on stage, she finds herself falling in love with music again. Especially since it helps her feel closer to her mother.

The girls get lost in the music and forget the time. The clearing of a throat causes Y/N to whip in the direction of it. Topper gives her a small smile and a wave, “I hate to stop the creative flow, but it’s eleven.” Y/N’s head bobs and helps the others get all of their stuff together. She can feel the eyes of the people she used to call friends on her. She tries not to succumb to the pressure of their gaze. As they leave the stage, both groups awkwardly look at each other. She hasn’t kept secrets from her girls, so they know everything that went down between her and the boys.

Laila, Viola, and Debra can see the emotionless expression on her face at the encounter with her past and decide not to bring it up. “Are you working a shift today?” Laila inquires whilst placing her guitar in its case. Y/N slings her bag across her chest, “Yeah, I’m doing a closing shift. If you guys want to come over to rehearse some more, come over after ten. I need a break between now and work.” “Got it, I’ll bring the pizza,” Laila informs before leaving with Debra and Viola. Kiara returns from the bathroom and approaches Y/N, looking nervously between the stage and her friend. “I don’t want to talk about it, Kie,” she laments. Kiara notices the way the singer avoids eye contact. The PA shakes her head, “You’ve been burying this within you for almost a decade. That isn’t healthy.” “I have no idea what you are talking about. It is perfectly fine to not talk about it. And for your information, I interacted with him on the first competition night. I would say that counts as acknowledging it,” she contends. Kiara’s head tilts to give Y/N a pointed look.

“I overheard that conversation. You were just being nice because the audience could see you.”

“You can’t deny that I was being nice. So I say it counts.”

“You know that isn’t what I mean, Y/N/N. You aren’t only hurting him by leaving things unsolved, but yourself. The more you avoid getting closure, the more you come up with your own explanation for his actions. Those are always going to be worse than the truth. Think about it, not for him. For you.”

Kie doesn’t wait for an answer and it leaves Y/N to think about the impact of her friend's words. She chances a glance to where the music is coming from before heading home. The world is drowned out by the music playing in her headphones, filling in the space where her thoughts should populate. Everyone believes she has to speak to him; they lecture her on the importance of learning the full story. It is rich of them to say all those things when they aren’t the ones who Rafe pained. He didn’t even have the decency to say he was sorry after she confronted him. All he had to present to her were countless excuses. So they don’t get to have an input on how she deals with her shit because she is dealing with it. Through her writing. Out of Rafe and Y/N, she has always been the one more attuned to writing. Rafe can write good songs, he just isn’t as in love with the process as she is. Once her headphones come off at home, she rushes to her bedside drawer, pulling out a beaten-up notebook. She flips through countless songs about him. Every single one was written when she couldn’t contain how she felt. She finally gets to the picture of them she uses as a bookmark. It is the same one he taped onto his wall when they were fifteen. She couldn’t bring herself to take anything else of him during her move. As soon as the pen hits the paper, everything she has been bundling up inside falls onto the page.

———

He had asked her out. Rafe asked her out and she said yes. It had been a game of cat and mouse, them going back and forth on whether or not they should risk their friendship for something more. Spoiler alter, it wasn’t going to be. She didn’t know that though. At the moment, she was focused on getting to band practice. The cold evening breeze caused her to wrap her zip-up hoodie around her body by holding it against her waist. She drops her phone right as she gets to the opening of Topper’s garage. Something she overhears while picking up her phone makes her delay her entry to the room. “I heard you are going on a date with Y/N.” It was a high-pitched voice that could only belong to Samantha. Y/N wasn’t the biggest fan of Samantha. The Kook had a permanent judgmental face in her presence and she could hear the repugnance lacing the question.

Y/N expected her best friend to hear the same tone and defend her. It never happened. “Listen, I didn’t want to do it. I got tired of her doing that pathetic mopey-eyed shit. She was begging for me to ask her out, so I did to stop her pestering. Trust me, I could never willingly date a Pogue.” Suddenly, her heart popped under the weight of the tire and he continued to smear her most vital organ across the road with every laugh he let out. What added to her decimation was that her other bandmates joined in her mocking. During their friendship, they had never made her feel different because of what side of the island she was born on. She thought they didn’t care about the number in her bank account; apparently, they did. She wondered how many lies they told her. Was everything they ever paid for for her because they pitied her? Were they truly her friend? She stepped back to leave, not having the courage to face the most important people in her life until Rafe said something that turned her agony to rage. “What about that stupid saying her mom always said that she lives by. As long as it speaks to you, it is meant for you. It is so ridiculous. One. Not everything talks. Two. Does she believe that a life outside of the cut is meant for her? Y/N is so delusional.” Samantha let out a cackle. This was the ultimate betrayal.

She stormed into the room, letting the boys’ height tower over her. The faint smell of weed permeated the air. With the number of times they smoked in here, she was surprised the fabric of the light brown couch didn’t permanently smell like the drug. Topper’s garage wasn’t what most people would imagine for a place to park a car. It made sense though because his family didn’t keep their cars in this garage. They had another small building to house their vehicles in true Kook fashion. This room was a modern finished room, perfectly equipped for whatever Topper’s new hobby was and it happened that his hobby for the past year was being in a band. Rafe could see the fury in her eyes and knew she heard everything they said. He felt horrible. In an ignorant teenage boy fashion, he said anything he could to get laughter out of his friends, creating the biggest mistake of his life. Time needed to rewind, so he could say what he should’ve. The way she looked at him buried him in regret. His desire to take her into his arms for her comfort was trumped by the knowledge that she would chew his head off. “How can you say those things about my mother? The fact that you would ridicule her after she treated you like her own son is sickening. You didn’t deserve her love and she would be disappointed in who you turned out to be. So would your own mom because the Margaret Cameron I know would be ashamed at how you just talked about her dead friend and your presumed best friend,” she fired. He could make glass out of sand with the way she scorched him. His mind zipped around with ways to apologize and make things better, yet his dumb hormonal self advised him to keep digging. She was outnumbered after all.

“Playing the mom card, how depressing. No, I think my mom would be proud of me. She never liked you anyway. How could she? All you are is a sad little poor Pogue.”

Lies. Margaret adored Y/N, loving getting to sing with the little girl. The laughs from the Kooks fueled his outer confidence, while his heart was being grated into millions of pieces. She froze; her face contorting into a pout. He spotted the wobble of her lip and the hitching of her breath. His feet shuffled forward a micro-inch, wanting to wipe away her despair. She took a deep breath. Silence seeped into the air. The tension thickened like trying to swim in a pool of peanut butter. She held her head high as she spun to leave, refusing to let them see her misery.

———

Another competition night passes with the survival of Just Wanna Have Fun and the Melodies. The venue hall is practically empty, except for a few stray people. While the rest of the girls go home, Y/N stays behind to get some downtime alone in the rehearsal room. Being in the Battle of The Bands with Rafe is proving to be harder than she thought. They haven’t had another conversation, but their proximity puts her on edge. Her footsteps echo in the hallway as she leaves the bathroom. Headphones cover her ears, distracting her from the presence behind her. A tap on her shoulder causes her to twirl around. A skinny man with a sad excuse for a beard leers at her. He is wearing The Melodies’ merch and gives her a gut-twisting smile. Suddenly, she feels uneasy because of the lack of people in the building. Time droops as his thin fingers encase her wrist. She tries to yank her arm out; his baby-like grip impedes her attempt. “You have such a beautiful voice,” he mumbles. The usual compliment doesn’t have the same effect coming from a man who looks at her in such an objectified manner.

“You need to let go,” she orders, having no obligation to acknowledge the content of his words. His hand further coils around her skin, “I said something nice about you. The least you can do is say thank you.” Fear sets in when his other hand reaches for his belt and he begins to drag her toward the bathroom. An arm hooks around the delusional man’s neck, causing him to stop and jerk her backwards. She quickly recognizes the thick bicep. “Let go of her,” Rafe growls in the assaulter’s ear. Relief flushes her at the release of weight from her wrist. “Rock Star, go get security and go back to the practice room.” Her mind goes on autopilot and follows his instructions, overlooking the manner in which he knows why she is here late.

Once security is sent to aid Rafe, she returns to the instrument-filled room. Her attention is on the blue acoustic guitar resting in its case close to the metal stool. She picks up the guitar and takes a seat. Her fingers press against the string on the neck and her other hand strumms to create the chord. The lyrics she wrote so long ago flow out of her.

“You betrayed me And I know that you'll never feel sorry For the way I hurt, yeah You said I was priceless but you really meant worthless. It took you a second To pretend I was nothing Guess I should’ve known That you were always a liar.”

Rafe's back rests against the stone, a tear slipping out of the corner of his eye and down his face. He was going to go in to check in on her but hesitates to fall through. She needs to say something to the universe and for once, Rafe isn’t going to take that away from her. He saw the way the bounce of her foot disappeared with the song. Instead, he plans to give her exactly what she needs. The guys are going to hate him for this.

———

The crowd is electric as Rafe takes a second to breathe. He looks around the venue, searching to see if she is in the section for the musicians to watch the show. His eyes connect with Y/N’s. He can carry on with his plan. He rests a hand on the microphone and adjusts the earpiece in his ear. The mic stand tilts while he brings the mic closer to his mouth, “This next one is new. It’s not on any of our albums, but it is something that is long overdue.” He flicks his head toward Topper to start playing the song they worked all week to perfect in time. Rafe’s head bobs to the beat of the drum, waiting for his queue to jump in. He starts singing at the same time he strums the first chord.

“I've gotta right my wrongs With you is where I belong You've been down from the go Recognition is what you want And it's something that I should know Something that I should know All the things that you went through I never meant to put you through it twice, no Tell me how can I right my wrongs That's something that I should know All the things that we been through I never meant to put you through it twice, oh no”

His eyes flicker to her and his heart drops at the tears running down her round cheeks. Every part inside of him wants to stop playing when he sees her go backstage. He gets through the set and the rest of the guys say goodbye to their fans. He is too distracted to give it his full attention. Once backstage, he removes his guitar and weaves through the crew and other musicians in a jog to get to the musicians’ lounge. Disappointment crosses him when he can’t find her. He spots Kie and runs over to his sister’s friend. “Where did she go?” he interrogates, eyes frantically scanning the room for her. Kiara’s eyes roll, “You seriously expect me to tell you after the stunt you just pulled.” His hands clasp together in a shake. “Please, Kie. I needed to do it. She had to know how sorry I was and music has always been our way to connect. It felt right,” he explains, trying to resist the urge to drop to his knees in front of everyone.

“It’s seven years too late, Rafe.”

“It’s only too late unless one of us is dead. I need to make sure she is okay. That she knows I mean what I wrote.”

“I don’t think you are begging enough.”

His head goes crooked and he follows her gaze to the floor. He swallows his pride and gets onto his knees, “Please, Kiara Carrera. Tell me where Y/N is.” Kie smiles in satisfaction. “I won’t tell you where she lives, but I will tell you where she works and you can keep going there until you happen to be there when she works,” Kiara grants, typing the location into his phone.

———

The clouds outside make the afternoon dark, adding to Rafe’s loss of hope of not seeing Y/N. The news said it was supposed to rain tonight, but it said that about every day this week and it was wrong. There is a small skip in his step as he reaches for the handle of the coffee shop. An elderly lady stands in the doorway he opened, so he steps back and allows her to pass him. She gives him a small smile as she does. Freshly ground coffee beans and the sound of steam coming from the machine strike his senses. Lydia at the counter recognizes him and begins making his usual before he gets to the register. TJ already has his order punched into the system when he gets there. All Rafe has to do is pay. Once that is done, he sits at a booth sitting along the right wall to wait for his drink. This allows him to see the counter and the front door at the same time. He has been to the cafe every day this week. He only leaves when they close or when he has to practice at the venue. A week isn’t long, yet it still allows him to get to know the people working there. They couldn’t disclose when Y/N is working for privacy issues and he understood why. He would be more concerned if they did tell him no matter who he claimed to be. His name is called and goes up to get it. He reseats himself, opening his laptop to keep himself occupied.

Lavender. It overpowers him in a good way. He glances toward the front door and she is there, walking further into the store with the most dazzling smile directed toward Lydia. “Look who finally showed up to work,” the barista calls out. Y/N laughs, “I haven’t been scheduled to work. You know that, Silly.” “I know. Work just goes a little slower without my work wife here to keep me company,” Lydia complains with a grin. Y/N hasn’t noticed him and a part of him wishes she never will so she never loses the joy he hasn’t gotten to see since he was sixteen. He considers ducking out before she can see him, except Lydia has other plans. “Oh, by the way, this guy has been coming in every day to see you. He’s sitting over there.” Y/N’s eyes follow Lydia’s finger to where Rafe sits.

She sighs, “My shift doesn’t start for another ten minutes. Is it okay if I…” TJ answers for the barista. “Yeah, take your time.” Y/N’s head bobs and she pulls the hood off from her head. The KCHS written across her chest causes his heart to ache. He gave her some of the money so that she could buy the hoodie. She must not have remembered that fact if she kept it. Her path turns to his table and she settles herself in the seat across from him. “The nerve you have to sing that apology like it can solve all of our problems and then stalk me at my place of work,” she grits through her teeth. He bites the corner of his lip, “Music was always how we connected. And I wanted to make sure you were okay. You ran off during my set.”

“You don’t get to pretend like we still have music after what you said about our mothers. You gave that right up a long time ago. You also aren’t allowed to pretend you care for me.”

He reaches out for her hand and she yanks it away. “The things that I said… They were my greatest mistake. I have never forgiven myself for not apologizing on the spot and I don’t expect you to do so either. I do hope that you know that I regret every single word I uttered that day, Rock Star,” he pleads. He tries to meet her eye, but she averts her gaze. “The world has been a much darker place since you left. I am so sorry that I caused you the pain that I did. I would do anything in this universe to tell my younger self to tell you the truth that day.” She can’t help herself, “And what was the truth, Rafe?” “That even though we hadn’t been on our date yet, I was madly in love with you. I love you with every fibre in my being and it scared me because I knew how much it would hurt if I lost you. Not only that, I was just a teen and stupid enough to think getting a laugh out of my friends was better than facing something new. I had never been so wrong in my entire life.” Her eyes gloss over and checks the time on her phone. She stands up without another word, breaking Rafe’s heart as she walks to the back room.

The air comes out of his nose in high pressure. He understands her message and leaves Y/N’s place of work. It is hard to process the words he said. Her younger self would’ve loved to hear his declaration of love. She would’ve been so excited. A small part of her heart flutters at the reveal, no matter how angry she is at him. The worst is she genuinely believes he is remorseful of his actions.

Their issues couldn’t be fixed with one small apology; however, she would never forgive herself if she never saw where this could go. “I’m sorry. I’m going to take my break right now,” she informs her co-workers, not waiting for answers. She takes off her apron and throws it onto the ground. She runs out the door in hopes she can still catch him. The crowd makes her question her belief until she spots the blue flannel he is wearing. She threads herself through the people and is met with resistance. “RAFE,” she yells out. He freezes, spinning around to see her. He pushes his way to her and they stand before each other as wet spatters begin to hit their heads. He chances resting his hands on her elbow, delighting when she doesn’t flinch away from him. “I think I forgive you,” she says. The patter from the rain drowns out her words, so he places his forehead against hers to hear her better. His smirk reveals he does have an inkling of what she confessed, “What did you say?” She knows the game he is playing and rolls her eyes. “Forget it, I’m just going to go back to work,” she snarks, turning away to head back to the cafe. Rafe catches her wrist and tugs her against his chest.

Their lips finally connect in the way they have been waiting for for twenty-three years. Her soft petals press hard against him like a rock. He reciprocates the pressure, running his tongue along her lips to ask for entrance. The rainwater mixes in with their saliva as she allows him in. He remembers the jet ski that once drowned him and pulled away. “What about Knox?” he questions. She stares at him with big eyes, “We were never really dating. He is Viola’s brother. He knows our history and thought it would be fun to play around with you to keep you away.”

“I see. That didn’t work out as you guys had planned, did it? I don’t think anything can keep me away from you once I realize how stupid I was.”

“No it did not… You need to know that just because I forgave you doesn’t mean everything is back to normal. We can’t go back to pretending that we are still the people we used to be. I’m not the girl I was seven years ago and you’ll have to regain my trust.”

“And I am prepared to do whatever it takes to gain back what I broke. As long as I can be by your side.”

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming

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whereforarthur · 24 days

Text

Brother’s Flatmate

Request: anything that starts angsty but ends fluffy PLS

Pairing: Arthur Hill x George’sSister!Reader

Category: Angst to Fluff

Word Count: 4.3k

*****

"Real love doesn't meet you at your best. It meets you in your mess." – J.S. Park

In the bustling heart of London, where the Thames River curved its ancient path, there was a man named Arthur Hill. He was known to many as a charismatic YouTuber with a velvety singing voice, yet to his closest friend George, he was simply Arthur, the bloke who was always there for a pint and a laugh. Arthur's flat, a cozy sanctuary tucked above a quaint bookstore, reflected his unassuming nature—a blend of vintage furniture and the faint scent of dusty pages that spoke of quiet nights spent reading and recording his latest vlogs.

The flat was often filled with the sound of George's raucous laughter as the two friends bantered over cups of tea. However, the dynamic changed whenever George's sister, Y/N, was around. She was a sharp contrast to Arthur's laid-back demeanor—ambitious, driven, and often blunt to the point of discomfort. Her visits were met with a tension so palpable it could be sliced with a knife.

Today was no exception. The moment she barged in, Arthur felt the atmosphere shift. He set aside his camera, knowing that the evening's vlog would have to wait. Y/N's eyes narrowed as she assessed the cluttered room, a clear judgment of his lifestyle.

"It's not just a bit of mess," she retorted, her voice laced with frustration. "It's a health hazard. And it's not like you don't know how to clean up after yourself, Arthur."

The unspoken hostility between them was a constant thorn in George's side. He had no idea what had caused the rift, only that it had grown wider with each passing year. Arthur and Y/N had never seen eye to eye, and it was clear that their dislike for each other was deeply rooted.

"Look, I've had a long day," Arthur said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "Could we not do this now?"

Y/N scoffed. "I'm just saying, if you want to be taken seriously as an influencer, you should start by taking your living conditions seriously."

The comment hit a nerve. Arthur's success had always been a sore spot for her, a constant reminder of her own unfulfilled aspirations. Her words stung, and he felt his temper begin to flare.

"And what would you know about that?" he shot back. "You've never had to chase your dreams because you've always had everything handed to you on a silver platter."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked, her voice dangerously low.

Arthur took a deep breath, knowing he had crossed a line. "I didn't mean it like that," he said, trying to backpedal. But the damage was done.

"You don't get it," Arthur said, his voice tight. "You never have. You think because I make videos and sing songs, I don't have a clue about hard work?"

"I didn't say that," Y/N replied, her voice equally as tense. "I said you should take better care of yourself. This place is a mess, and it's a reflection of your priorities."

The accusation stung, and Arthur felt his cheeks heat up. He had always prided himself on his authenticity, his willingness to show his true self to his followers. Yet here she was, suggesting he was a fraud.

"You think I don't know what real work is?" he spat out, his eyes flashing. "You sit in your fancy office all day, sipping lattes and bossing people around, while I'm out here, trying to make a difference in the lives of my fans."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You're not curing cancer with your videos, Arthur."

The words hung in the air, a challenge that Arthur couldn't ignore. "At least I'm not living a lie," he retorted. "Pretending to be someone I'm not just to climb the corporate ladder."

Y/N's job was a sore subject for her, a constant battle against the expectations of their family's legacy. He opened his mouth to intervene, but she was already responding, her voice icy.

"You wouldn't know the first thing about hard work, Arthur," she said, her eyes glinting. "You play dress-up and make jokes for a living. It's easy to be liked when you're not actually doing anything of substance."

The words hit Arthur like a punch to the gut. He had always felt a little guilty about his chosen career path, especially compared to Y/N's high-flying corporate job. But he also knew that his content brought joy and comfort to millions. He clenched his fists, trying to keep his cool.

"You don't know anything about what I do," he said, his voice measured. "You think it's all fun and games, but there's a lot more to it than you see."

Y/N folded her arms, unmoved by his defense. "Oh, I know all about it," she said. "You sit here, making videos that people watch to forget their own lives, and you think that's meaningful?"

"It is to them," Arthur said, his voice rising. "It's more than you do, stuck in your ivory tower."

Y/N's eyes flashed. "At least I'm not living in a fantasy world," she snapped. "At least I'm not chasing after something that's never going to be more than a hobby."

"It's not a hobby," Arthur said, his voice strained. "It's my life."

Y/N rolled her eyes. "Your life? More like your escape," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "You're afraid to face the real world, so you hide behind a screen and pretend you're important."

*****

Arthur's eyes widened, and for a moment, he just stared at her, the words cutting deep. He hated her—no, he didn't. He didn't hate her. It was something else, something more complicated. He hated the way she made him feel, the way she brought out his insecurities, the way she questioned his very existence. He hated that she could do that to him.

But he didn't hate her. She was George's sister, and George was his best mate. He couldn't hate her. Could he? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that what he felt was closer to fear. Fear that she might be right. Fear that he was just a glorified clown, dancing for the amusement of the masses.

He took a step towards her, his hands balled into fists. "You don't know anything about me," he said, his voice tight with emotion. "You think you're so much better, but you're just as lost as I am."

Y/N's expression didn't change, but something in her eyes flickered. For a moment, Arthur thought he saw a glimpse of vulnerability, a hint of doubt. But she quickly masked it with a sneer. "You're pathetic," she said. "You're wasting your life on this nonsense."

Arthur felt his heart racing, the blood pounding in his ears. He didn't hate her, not really. But her words stung because they echoed his own fears. He had always wondered if his career was just a facade, a way to avoid the responsibilities of adulthood. Yet here he was, standing up for what he believed in, for the community he had built, the fans who looked up to him.

"You're just jealous," he spat out, the anger giving him courage. "You're jealous that I found something I love, something that makes people happy."

Y/N's eyes narrowed. "You think you're so special," she said. "You're not. You're just a pretty face with a decent singing voice."

Arthur felt his anger boil over. "And you're just a cold-hearted bitch," he said, his voice shaking. "You don't know the first thing about love or passion."

Y/N's eyes went wide with shock at the venom in his words. For a moment, she looked as though she had been slapped. Then, she laughed—a bitter, harsh sound that rang through the flat. "Love and passion? Is that what you call it? A bunch of teenagers worshipping you?"

The room was a battleground, the air thick with animosity. The line between love and hate was paper-thin, and it was clear that they had both danced upon it for too long. Arthur's heart felt as though it was being squeezed in a vice, the weight of her accusations crushing him. Yet, amidst the anger, there was something else—a strange warmth that he couldn't quite explain. It was as if their shared disdain had kindled a spark of something more.

Y/N's eyes searched Arthur's, and for a fleeting moment, he saw a flicker of doubt in her gaze. The mask of superiority slipped, revealing a hint of the insecurity that lay beneath. She had always been the successful one, the one who had everything figured out, while he had stumbled into fame almost by accident. Yet here they were, both lost in their own ways.

"Shut up," Arthur murmured, the words barely audible. He didn't know if he was speaking to her or to the voice in his own head, the one that whispered doubt and fear.

Y/N took a step closer, her eyes flashing. "Make me," she challenged, her voice low and dangerous. The air between them crackled with tension.

Arthur's hand shot out, his fingertips brushing against her cheek. It was a gentle touch, a stark contrast to the harshness of their words. Y/N's eyes widened, and she took a sharp intake of breath, as though she hadn't expected the softness. For a second, they just stared at each other, the electricity between them palpable.

Then, before he could think better of it, Arthur leaned in and kissed her—harshly, desperately. He kissed her as if he was trying to prove a point, to show her that he was more than the sum of his YouTube views and singing talents. He kissed her as if he could erase the years of contempt with one fiery gesture.

Y/N's body stiffened, her eyes widening in shock, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she leaned into the kiss, her hands reaching up to tangle in his hair. It was a strange, intoxicating dance of anger and attraction that neither of them had seen coming. The heat between them grew, the air in the room thickening until it was almost suffocating.

*****

When they finally broke apart, both were breathless. Y/N's cheeks were flushed, her eyes dark with a mix of anger and something else—desire? Arthur couldn't tell. He felt as though he was drowning in confusion, his chest tight with emotion.

"I hate you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. But the way she said it, the way her breath hitched, told him she didn't mean it. Not entirely.

Arthur's chest tightened. "No, you don't," he said, his voice low and intense. "You're just scared."

Y/N's eyes searched his, a storm of emotions raging within them. "Scared of what?" she asked, her voice trembling.

"Scared of admitting that maybe, just maybe, we're not so different after all," Arthur said, his voice low and earnest. "Scared of what this could be."

Y/N stared at him, her eyes searched his, looking for a sign that he was joking, that this was all some twisted ploy. But Arthur's gaze was unwavering, his expression raw and vulnerable. The truth of his words hit her like a tidal wave, and she felt the walls she had built around her heart begin to crumble.

"We're nothing alike," she whispered, her voice shaking. But even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. They were both chasing their own versions of success, their own ways of making an impact on the world.

Arthur stepped closer, his hand still resting on her cheek. "We're more alike than you think," he said softly. "We both want to be seen, to be heard, to matter."

Y/N's breath hitched. She didn't hate him, not really. But she had spent so long pushing him away, hiding behind her sarcasm and scorn, because the alternative was too terrifying to consider. If she let him in, if she allowed herself to care, she might just get her heart broken. And she had been down that road before—she wasn't sure she could handle it again.

"I don't do feelings," she said, her voice a feeble attempt at the armor she had worn for so long. But Arthur's hand remained on her cheek, his thumb tracing gentle circles that seemed to be unraveling her very soul.

"Well, you're doing a bloody good job of hiding them," Arthur said with a sad smile. "But I can see right through you, Y/N. And I think it's about time we both faced them."

Her eyes searched his, looking for any sign of a bluff. But all she found was honesty, a stark contrast to the barbed words they had exchanged just moments ago. Slowly, she reached up and placed her hand over his, her touch tentative yet filled with a spark of hope. "What are you saying, Arthur?"

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of his words before speaking them. "I'm saying that maybe, just maybe, we should stop fighting and start understanding each other." His thumb continued to caress her cheek, his gaze never leaving hers. "We're both just trying to find our place in this world, and maybe we could help each other do that."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest, the walls she had built around herself feeling more fragile than ever. The idea of letting Arthur in, of admitting that she might need someone, was as terrifying as it was tempting. Yet, she couldn't deny the undeniable pull she felt towards him, the way his touch made her feel seen, understood.

"I don't know if I can do that," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I've spent so long pushing people away."

Arthur's eyes searched hers, filled with a gentle understanding that seemed to see right through her tough exterior. "I know," he said, his voice equally soft. "But maybe it's time to try something new."

The silence that fell between them was heavier than any of their previous barbs. Y/N felt the weight of his gaze, the warmth of his hand, and the sincerity of his words. It was a stark contrast to the chaos that usually surrounded their interactions, a gentle reminder that love could emerge from the most unlikely of places.

Her eyes searched his, looking for any hint of a lie or a hidden motive. But all she found was a mirror to her own confusion and yearning. Arthur was right—they were both lost in their own ways, but perhaps together they could navigate the tumultuous waters of life.

"Okay," she whispered, her voice shaky with uncertainty. "Okay, let's try."

Their kiss was not gentle this time, but it was not fueled by anger either. It was a kiss of understanding, of two souls colliding in the messiness of their shared existence. Arthur's arms wrapped around her, pulling her close, and she melted into him, her own arms snaking around his waist. It was as though they had been holding onto this moment for years, waiting for the perfect storm of words and emotions to bring it to the surface.

As they broke away, both panting, they stared at each other with a newfound appreciation. The hostility that had once dominated their interactions was now replaced with a strange, thrilling anticipation. They had both been hiding behind their own fears and insecurities, throwing jabs and insults to keep the other at bay. But in that one moment, they had found a common ground—the mess of their lives.

Arthur knew that real love didn't emerge from a perfect, pristine environment. It grew in the cracks of doubt and the weeds of imperfection. It was in the chaos of their shouting match that he had seen the real Y/N, the one who was just as lost and scared as he was. And in that chaos, he had found something beautiful—a spark of connection that was more real than any of the scripted moments in his videos.

They stood there, in the silence that followed the storm of their words, their hearts racing in unison. The tension between them had shifted, no longer a barrier but a bridge, a delicate yet solid connection that neither wanted to break. Y/N's eyes searched Arthur's, looking for confirmation that this was real, that she wasn't just imagining the tenderness in his gaze.

*****

"I'm sorry," Arthur murmured, his thumb still tracing circles on her cheek. "For everything."

Y/N nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Me too," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I've been a bitch."

Arthur's hand slid down to her neck, his thumb brushing against the rapid pulse in her throat. "You've had your reasons," he said, his voice gentle. "But let's leave them behind now."

Y/N nodded, a single tear slipping down her cheek. "Okay," she whispered. "Let's start again."

Arthur wiped the tear away with his thumb, his eyes never leaving hers. "We don't have to start over," he said softly. "We just have to start… differently."

Y/N took a deep breath, her chest rising and falling against his chest. "Differently," she echoed, the word feeling strange and yet incredibly right on her tongue.

Arthur's gaze searched hers, his eyes filled with a warmth she hadn't seen before. It was as though he had just discovered a hidden treasure, something precious that had been buried beneath layers of anger and misunderstanding.

"I didn't know," he whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "I didn't know it could feel like this."

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes searched his, and she could see the realization dawning in his gaze—the raw, unfiltered understanding of what love truly meant. It was as if he had just stepped into the sunlight after years of darkness.

Arthur's eyes searched hers, the weight of his realization heavy in his gaze. It was a look that spoke of a thousand unsaid words, of moments of doubt and fear that had led them to this precipice. In that instant, she knew that he saw her—the real her, not the armored version she presented to the world. He saw the vulnerability she had worked so hard to hide, the softness that lay beneath the sharp edges of her sarcasm.

"Neither did I," she murmured, her voice shaky. She felt the warmth of his breath against her skin, the steady beat of his heart under her palm. The tension between them had transformed into something new, something that made her heart flutter in a way she had long ago convinced herself she was immune to.

They stood there, in the quiet aftermath of their confrontation, the air charged with the electricity of their newfound connection. It was strange, terrifying, and yet, somehow, it felt more real than anything she had ever experienced. For the first time in what felt like forever, Y/N allowed herself to hope that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly understood her.

"We'll take it slow," Arthur said, his voice low and soothing. "We'll get to know each other without the baggage of what we've always thought we knew."

Y/N nodded, the tightness in her chest slowly easing. The idea of taking it slow was both comforting and exhilarating. She had always rushed into things, eager to prove herself, to conquer and claim. But with Arthur, she felt the need to be gentle, to tiptoe around the fragility of this newfound bond.

"Okay," she said, her voice a whisper. "We'll start tonight."

*****

They decided to order takeout, a simple meal of fish and chips from the chippy down the street. As they waited, Arthur suggested they watch one of his videos together, one that had a special meaning to him. Y/N agreed, her curiosity piqued.

The video was of Arthur singing a cover of an obscure indie song, the melody haunting and beautiful. As he watched her reaction, he explained how the lyrics had resonated with him during a particularly tough time in his life, how the words had given him the courage to keep going. Y/N listened, her eyes never leaving the screen, and for the first time, she saw the depth of his passion, the raw emotion that fueled his art.

When the video ended, she turned to him, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I had no idea," she said, her voice thick with emotion. "I never knew you felt like that."

Arthur took her hand, his thumb tracing comforting circles on her skin. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he said, his voice gentle. "And I want to show you."

The night stretched out before them, a canvas of unexplored possibilities. They talked, shared stories, and laughed—the kind of laughter that washed away the years of tension and left them feeling lighter, freer. It was a tentative start, a delicate dance of opening up to each other.

As they sat there, on the couch in Arthur's cluttered flat, surrounded by the detritus of his life, Y/N felt something within her shift. It was as though she had been holding her breath for years, and now, finally, she could exhale.

The kiss that followed was not driven by anger or spite. It was born of a newfound respect, a tentative curiosity that grew into a blaze of passion. Their lips met, and it was as though all the words they had left unsaid were finally finding their voice.

When they parted, Y/N's heart was racing, her cheeks flushed. She looked into Arthur's eyes and saw the same wonder reflected in his gaze. They had crossed a line, stepped into a place neither had dared to tread before.

"I don't know what this is," she murmured, her voice husky.

Arthur leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. "Neither do I," he said. "But I know I don't want to let it go."

And so, with the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the window, they embraced the uncertainty, the thrill of the unknown. They had found something in each other that was more than just friendship or rivalry. It was a connection that defied logic, a bond forged in the fires of their shared pain and doubt.

As they sat there, holding each other tightly, Y/N felt the first stirrings of a love that had been buried beneath layers of contempt. It was a love that had been waiting for the right moment to emerge, a love that was as real and as raw as the music that filled Arthur's soul.

The future was uncertain, fraught with the potential for either heartbreak or a love that could surpass their wildest dreams. Yet, in that moment, all that mattered was the here and now. They decided to take it one day at a time, to build their relationship on a foundation of honesty and mutual respect.

The weeks that followed were filled with tentative smiles and gentle touches, as they both learned to navigate the new waters of their blossoming relationship. Y/N began to see Arthur not just as George's friend, but as a complex individual with his own fears and aspirations. She admired his dedication to his craft and the way he connected with his fans, bringing joy to the lives of so many.

Arthur, in turn, discovered the strength and resilience behind Y/N's sharp exterior. He saw the passion she brought to her work, the way she fought for what she believed in, even when the odds were stacked against her. Her ambition was no longer a source of irritation but a quality he found himself drawn to, a reminder that there was more to life than just his own small corner of the internet.

*****

Their first date was a simple walk along the South Bank, the Thames reflecting the soft glow of the setting sun. They talked about their hopes, their fears, and the moments that had shaped them into the people they were today. The conversation flowed as easily as the river beside them, and with each step, they grew closer.

Holding hands, they stumbled upon a small jazz club, the music spilling out onto the cobbled streets. Arthur looked at Y/N, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Dance with me?" he asked, leading her inside.

The intimate venue was crowded, but they found a spot near the stage. As the music swelled around them, they swayed together, lost in the rhythm and the warmth of their bodies. Y/N felt a sense of belonging she hadn't experienced in a long time, as though she had finally found a place where she truly fit.

Their relationship grew steadily, each moment revealing a new facet of the other. They discovered shared interests, like a love for obscure British sitcoms and a passion for long, meandering conversations that stretched into the early hours of the morning. The flat that had once been a battleground of snark and sarcasm now echoed with laughter and whispered secrets.

Yet, as much as they enjoyed their time together, the specter of their past remained. George, caught in the middle, watched with a mix of bewilderment and happiness as his sister and best friend grew closer. He knew the history of their animosity, the depth of the scars that still lingered beneath the surface.

One evening, as the three of them sat around Arthur's kitchen table, the tension grew thick. Y/N reached for Arthur's hand under the table, a silent plea for support. He squeezed it gently, a reminder that they were in this together.

"Look," Arthur said, breaking the silence. "We've all said things we regret. But we're trying to move forward. Can't we just… be happy for each other?"

George studied them, his expression unreadable. Then, with a sigh, he leaned back in his chair. "I just want you two to be happy," he said. "But don't expect me to understand it."

Y/N and Arthur shared a look, a silent promise to navigate this new chapter with care. It was a step forward, a small but significant one. They knew they had a long way to go, but for now, they were content to simply enjoy the dance they had found themselves in.

*****

Taglist~

@gvf23 @xxkatxgracexx @pookietv

#fluff #angst #british youtubers #imagines #george clarkey #arthur hill #arthur hill x reader #arthur x reader

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