#we kissed on friday and now its sunday and we keep not joking about falling in love

[co-captens]

Biggest inaccuracy in OFMD is actually the relationship timeline. Have you met queer people?? Gay saps?? In close quarters?? Trauma only slows us down so much, they would have made out in 2 weeks hands down

[lightsovermonaco]

His Good Sweater: Chapter 9

Masterlist

As always thank you to my beautiful bestie @acollectionofficsandshit you can also thank her for all the Max content in this chapter. Its a long one, enjoy!

Word Count: 9.6k

Recommended song: “Hate the way” by G-Easy and blackbear

The one thing that never failed to lift your spirits was your dad's homemade blueberry chocolate chip pancakes. Whenever you were upset as a kid, whether it be your team losing a sporting event, your high-school boyfriend dumping you for the head cheerleader, or getting rejected from an ivy league college you never expected to get into in the first place, his pancakes had been there to cushion the fall. Clever as he was, he always messed them up in some insignificant way like leaving off the whipped cream and hiding the container so you were forced to talk to him in order to remedy it. Then he would crack some stupid joke or cheesy pun that would just barely have the ghost of a smile curling your lips.

Blueberry chocolate chip pancakes were no match for the heartbreak of losing your best friend.

The morning after, you only trudge to the kitchen when your stomach's demands to be fed become too loud to ignore. A steaming pile of fluffy pancakes sits at your usual spot, no syrup in sight. You don't have the energy to find your dad and ask where he's hidden it, instead picking at them. You knew the flavor should be fruity and sweet but every bite tastes like ash. One pancake is all you can manage before nausea roils, threatening to make your meager brunch resurface. 

"Some is better than none," Ben murmurs behind you and you drop your chin in the barest of nods. "We can save the rest and you can warm them up later."

"Thanks," you mumble when he takes your plate. You pull your blanket tight around your shoulders as your gaze turns to the window while your brother washes your dishes, wishing for all the world that you could make your uncooperative limbs move and help him but the mental effort it requires is too taxing. Instead you stay curled up on the chair, the noises of the house waking up around you a dull buzz in your ears. At some point your mother kisses your head and hustles out the door to work, her husband close behind. Ben is the last to leave and is reluctant to do so.

"Promise you'll text me if you need me," he says. "Mom already gave me permission to cut class after trigonometry."

"Sure." You both know it's a lie and a bad one at that. Your voice is dull and flat, completely void of emotion. 

"Mom said she's coming home early anyway,” he tries. “Something about overstaffing at the greenhouse."

"Okay."

The mechanical spooling of the garage door tells you he's finally gone. Your elbows slide forward until your head rests on the table, unable to hold it up any longer.

Every fiber of your being yearns for him, to hear the distinct r's and flowery lilt of his accent as he comforts you through the heartbreak, always knowing exactly what to say. It was second nature to call one another when either of you had had a bad day or a good day or just a normal day - you'd talked so often that last year you had convinced your parents to add international minutes to your phone plan. 

Your fingers itch to dial the number you had long since memorized, knowing it would ring no more than twice before he picked up. He never let it go to voicemail unless he absolutely couldn't avoid it and you had a hunch he was waiting for your call.

Despite knowing better, you scroll through the messages on your phone. Love was evident in each witty remark and wish goodnight, pulling at your heartstrings. Your finger hovers over the delete conversation button, and after a minute of debate, you can't bring yourself to do it. You would allow yourself one reprieve to look back on and remember the good.

It would be so much easier if he had given you a reason to hate him. If he'd cheated or intentionally led the media to your house, hating him would be easy. You wouldn't have to admit that you still loved him because his betrayal would have yanked out the newly blooming bud of love you nurtured and crushed the fragile petals. Instead, you were left knowing that it had been your choice to inflict damage in him. You had no right to seek comfort in his arms or even ask how he was doing. You deserved to be miserable for causing him to feel the same way. 

Yuki is the first to check in on you. You don’t know what he expects; you lie through your teeth when you tell him you were fine.

The press is asking me for my thoughts. No idea why. I told them not to stick their noses where they don't belong.

At least someone had the guts to stand up to those bloodsuckers. Yuki was the last person you'd suspect to do so, but the scrappy twenty-something continued to surprise you.

Thanks, you type back. How is he?

You hesitate. You didn't really want to know the answer. Pierre was devastated and just as broken as you are. You delete the last part and opt to refrain from subjecting yourself to biting off more than you could chew.

I'm here if you need me, is Yuki's reply.

Charles, Daniel, and his newly promoted girlfriend were the next ones to text you, all offering varying degrees of support. Daniel's friend was the one that offered to sucker punch anyone that came near you without your permission, and actually dragged a single huff of laughter from your aching lungs.

I'm good thanks. But if I need a bodyguard you'll be first on the list.

Just because Daniel can lift me with one arm doesn't mean I'm not punchy!

I believe you.

Spent, you set your phone down and retreat under the down comforter. The bright pink clashed with your earthy decor, but at least the old blanket didn't smell like Pierre. Your mother had taken it upon herself to erase all trace of him from your room when she had managed to coax you into a shower, and the half hour you had spent letting the scalding water run over your skin had given her plenty of time to do so. The absence of him hurts almost as much as the trace of cedar you know you're imagining when you breathe deep.

It has to be impossible for so much agony to be contained in your body. No matter how much you try, the tears won't stop flowing because Pierre's crushed expression had taken up residence at the forefront of your consciousness. 

It didn't help that so many of your recent memories were touched by his presence. Getting into university served to remind you of the ecstatic call you'd gotten after his race that Sunday, voice strained with a mix of excitement for you and the disappointment of his race ending crash on the opening lap. Even something as simple as staring at the saggy bean bag chair in the corner brought back the memory of the countless times he had lounged there, sprawled out like he owned it.

Max's text brings you briefly back to reality.

You doing okay? Dan told me what happened.

No, was all you say back. Within a minute, Max's face occupies your screen. You sigh but accept the call, laying the phone on the pillow.

"I don't feel like talking, Max."

"That bad huh?" He asks, concern lacing his usually chipper voice.

"Yeah. That bad." As if that summed up getting your heart torn to shreds.

He's uncharacteristically quiet for a beat. "Wanna hear about Vic's day? She had some crazy clients at her salon- it'll take your mind off it."

"I guess," you say, utterly nonplussed. You could care less if he kept talking or not, you wouldn't be paying attention. He prattles on for a few minutes, seemingly unaffected by your silence as his words pass through one ear and out the other.

"Told you it was crazy," he says finally, your cue to respond. You hum noncommittally and Max just sighs.

"Look, I don't know how I can help you unless you come here. I know you have a flight booked- do you still wanna come to the gala? My date's been stolen so I'm in need of one."

"Who stole your-"

The realization hits you before you can finish. Pierre. Pierre stole Max's sister and left him without a date. Something about his willingness to replace you so quickly rubs you the wrong way. It shouldn't have been so easy for him to find someone new; he should be hurting just as much as you. Fundamentally, you knew nothing would happen between Pierre and Victoria. She wouldn't go for him out of respect for both of you and you were thankful in the knowledge that it was completely platonic. Still, it was like rubbing salt in a wound. 

"You know what? I'll go." It was the most you'd said all day, your throat scratchy with disuse. Max whoops on the other line and you could almost see him punching the air in victory.

"Great! When's your flight get in? I'll bring the Acura and pick you up." 

You put him on speaker and login to the airlines website to punch in the flight number. Last night you'd debated canceling the flight that Pierre had paid for, determined to stay home and be miserable. Looking back you were glad you'd trusted your gut and left the reservation untouched. If he could find someone else to attend the gala with, so could you. "I land in Nice at noon on Friday. It'll be a short flight, I can text you when we take off."

"Sounds good. I'll set up the spare room for you. Victoria is staying here too, I'm sure she would love to help you get ready and do whatever it is girls do before fancy events."

"Hey, Max?"

"Whats up?"

You trace patterns through the condensation left by the glass on your nightstand. "Thank you. For understanding."

"That's what friends are for," he assures you. "Is there anything you wanna talk about now? Or are you planning to wait until you're here?"

"Ben's been keeping an eye on me. I'm okay for now." Better now that you had something to look forward to.

"All you have to do is call," he promises. "I'll listen, I don't have anything going on this week besides streaming."

You latch on to the small redirection and run with it. "You and the twitch quartet?"

"They've been kind enough to allow me to join them on the sim this week, yeah."

"I'll try to catch a race. No promises though." 

"See you Friday. Try to contain your excitement."

Your lips twitch upward. "Bye Max."

**********

The rest of the week was more of the same. You stayed home and your family dealt with the swarms of people that still gathered on the lawn each morning not so patiently waiting for you to tell your side of the story. You had decided that the best course of action was to keep your mouth shut and let them figure out for themselves that there was no longer a story to report thanks to the wedge they had driven in your relationship.

By the time Ben drives you to the airport Friday the buzz has died down. You hug your brother tight before checking in for the flight and texting Max. His response is immediate, letting you know he's excited to see you.

You wish you could return the sentiment. You wanted to see your friend, sure, but you were beginning to dread the upcoming gala. Max would be your crutch and you knew he was okay with that, but it still felt wrong. 

Unlike your brother, Max was waiting at the curb when you arrived in Nice. A nondescript cap was perched on his head, the oversized sunglasses he wore hiding his eyes from passersby. His gleaming orange peel of a car attracted more attention than he did for once, people stopping to ogle the Acura as they came and went.

"Hey you," Max greets, a broad grin causing his trademark dimple to appear as he wraps you in a rare hug. You cling to him, throat going tight at the intimacy of it. Max wasn't a physical person by any stretch; if he was hugging you this tightly it meant he knew how broken you were.

He waited for you to break contact first, giving you all the time you need. You sniff and wipe the single tear that had somehow escaped and laugh lightly.

"Hey," you say, voice scratchy. "Thanks for picking me up." 

He waves a hand, brushing it off. "Vic wanted to come but she changed her mind when I told her I was driving."

"Probably a smart choice," you observe, letting him pop the trunk- which was in the front of the car, since the Acura NSX was a mid-engined beast of a Japanese supercar- "and considering your choice of car, she wouldn't have fit anyway."

"This is true." He starts the engine, the roar of which makes a poor old woman a few yards away drop her purse.

The drive back is near silent, broken only by Max's occasional quips about a landmark or an observation about someone's driving. It was impossible for any driver to turn off the analytical part of their brain, their Formula 1 habits crossing into their daily lives. 

When Max parks at the curb outside his apartment, you move to open the door but he hits the lock button. You glance over your shoulder at him and quirk a brow.

"Am I your prisoner?"

"Are you gonna talk about what happened?"

Sighing, you sink back into the seat. The way the bolstering hugs your sides almost makes you believe you could fade into it if you try hard enough. "I wasn't really planning on it."

It had only been a handful of days since you had broken it off, the wound still leaking fresh blood when you poked at it. It refused to scab over or give you any kind of reprieve from the torture.

"You know you'll have to face him tomorrow at some point. He'll want to talk to you."

"That's why I'm going with you. You won't have a problem telling him to leave me alone."

Max sighs. "Yeah, I suppose. If that's what you think is best."

The trudge up the stairs and subsequent silent elevator ride allows your thoughts to wander to Victoria. It wasn't her fault that Pierre had asked her to come with him after you'd canceled, after all she was already planning on going and the late notice meant it was likely no one else could make it, but it didn't stop the pang of jealousy that rocketed through you each time you ruminate on it.

It didn't help when she wrapped you in a hug the moment she saw you and whispered an apology in your ear, like she knew she'd done something wrong. Tears spring to your eyes again and Victoria shoots Max a leave us alone look.

"Uh, I'm gonna hop on the sim. Help yourself to whatever is in the fridge if you're hungry."

"Thanks Max." Your eyes are pinned to a smudge of dirt on the wood floor, safely out of range of anything triggering. Keeping it together was more of a struggle than you'd expected.

"I hope you don't hate me," Victoria starts genuine concern lacing the words. "It was just easiest-"

"I know," you cut in. "And I don't." Your smile is tight, not quite hitting home as she returns it.

"Well then. Let's figure out how we're gonna do your hair tomorrow, shall we?"

**********

The dress was a single, simple piece of fabric, spun of sunset orange and free of any bells or whistles. The feather light chiffon hugged every supple curve through your hips until flaring out slightly at the bottom just enough to allow you range of motion. The deep vee of the neckline prominently displayed your cleavage, toeing the line between attention grabbing and scandal starting and leaving little to the imagination. The back dropped low, leaving the elegant curve of your spine free to be kissed by the salty Mediterranean breeze.

The dress is nothing special compared to the thousand dollar pieces that the other boy's dates would be wearing, but you didn't have the money- or the will- to find something new. It by no means broke the bank when you picked it up from the second hand store last year, but it looked the part. It had been a showstopper at the spring formal you'd originally worn it to and judging by Max's reaction, it still was.

He let out a low whistle when you stepped into the living room. "I'm sorry, did you pick that out with me in mind?" He laughs and despite yourself, heat rises to your cheeks. You hated being the center of attention, even among friends. "It's the perfect shade of orange to match my tie. I swear I didn't plan it that way!"

"I know you didn't." You give him a forced smile, praying he doesn't call you out on it. The dress you wore hadn't been your first choice. The one you originally planned to wear still sat in your closet at home collecting dust. It had been the perfect shade of blue to compliment Pierre's sky eyes, but it didn't match Max's deeper ocean blue. So at home it had stayed, and you had chosen the orange one because it made the necklace at your throat pop.

Your fingers engulf the stone before you can stop yourself, as they always do when your thoughts wander to him. Him, because you could scarcely think his name before your heart wretches at the reminder of what you'd lost. Flashes of bright smiles and soft kisses filter through your mind, making you lock up. You swear you can feel the ghost of plush lips to your throat and the scrape of callouses over the curve of your spine. Your eyes fall shut, desperate to get lost in the idea of him like you used to.

"You good?"

Max's quiet words startle you back into the present. No, you were in no way shape or form good, but you had no choice to fall back on the familiar mask of humor to cover up your inner turmoil.

"The real question is are you?" You smirk and look him over. The Red Bull navy suit strains over his broad shoulders, suggesting he had put on muscle since the last time he'd been forced into it. "You look stiff as a board in that tux."

"I feel so awkward." He straightens the suit coat and absentmindedly lifts a hand to tousle his hair. You grab his wrist just in time to keep him from ruining his sister's hard work and shoot him a chiding look. He grins sheepishly and lowers his hand.

"Vic would kill me if you got to the gala looking like you got run over." 

"That's a good point." He offers you his arm and you accept the lifeline he unwittingly offers you. "But I refuse to leave the windows up on this beautiful night, so we'll test how well it'll hold."

You quirk an eyebrow at him. "You're driving us there?"

"Well duh. I always drive when I'm at home."

You glance sidelong at the glaringly orange Acura parked at the curb a few floors below. Your dress would blend right in with the paint, but perhaps that was a good thing. It would provide that much more of a shock factor when you arrived and stepped out.

"Just don't crash out on the hairpin," you tease half heartedly. 

He rolls his eyes. "At least it's just the two of us so I don't have to call an uber. Vic's getting picked up by-'' Max cuts himself off and gives you an apologetic smile.

"You can say his name," you whisper, eyes trained on the tile of the hallway as you walk. "It's not like he's gone."

"Getting picked up by... Pierre," Max tries, carefully monitoring his neutral tone. God, you thought you could handle it but you can't, stumbling over your own feet with only Max's grip on your arm to catch you.

He'd dance with Vic tonight, and probably countless other women, his hands drifting over their bodies like they'd done on yours only days ago. You'd be forced to watch from the sidelines and make small talk that no one would remember come morning, utterly unable to do anything about it. At least Daniel’s girlfriend would be there to be the voice of reason, if you could peel her away from Daniel long enough to speak with her for any length of time.

Max was uncharacteristically quiet on the ride to the venue, leaving you to study the city as he drove. Few yachts were left in the harbor as the sun was swallowed by the sea, the owners undoubtedly set sail for a weekend getaway. Your gaze involuntarily searched for the slip that held Charles' Ferrari red speedboat that you'd visited countless times with Pierre. The eyesore was hard to miss when surrounded by its monotone brethren, memories flooding back in droves at the sight of it.

Sighing, you turn away to glimpse what you can of the city through the ridiculously tiny sliver of windshield. How anyone could confidently drive the Acura while having so little field of vision was beyond you. It was probably second nature to Max, who weaves through the narrow streets with practiced ease and barely lets off the gas through the corners. 

The city of Monaco rarely slept, and tonight was no different. Soft yellow fluorescent glow seeps from high rise balconies, the occupants soaking up the last dregs of sunlight before heading out to the casinos and clubs. People spilled out of cafes onto the sidewalks, their laughter lingering on the breeze as you speed past.

The list of people you trust enough to get in the car with and let them drive with such intensity is short: Max and Pierre. Not even Daniel made the final cut, not when his then not-girlfriend had recounted the tale of him losing the rear of his McLaren 570s at a track day and nearly sending them into the wall. According to her, he'd been too busy ogling her to keep his full attention on the road, but it was enough for you to question his judgement at times.

If you close your eyes, you could pretend it was someone else next to you, cutting through the gears like a hot knife through butter and coaxing every inch of performance out of the car that he could with the light traffic. You draw a surf-scented breath deep, lungs aching with the effort. 

Max joins the queue of cars waiting to park outside the venue, your attention trained on the guests stepping out of cars and climbing the wide set of marble steps leading to the sleek glass building. The modern structure is slightly out of place among the Roman-esque buildings surrounding it but the air of importance it exudes overrules any who dare say it doesn't belong.

"I can't tell you how glad I am that there's an open bar," Max remarks, hanging his head out the window to wave at someone. "It makes these events so much easier."

"You're telling me," you mumble, searching involuntarily for a familiar head of dusty blond hair in the droves of people arriving. Instead of sight, it's the unforgettable rumble of his Civic Type R's exhaust that alerts you to his arrival. Your head whips around, eyes eating up the pearl white paint of Pierre's favored car as it slides in behind you. You silently thank whatever deity is listening that his windshield is tinted, protecting you from seeing the smirk you are certain is playing on his lips.

Once upon a time, the cockpit of that car had been your favorite place in the world. You'd spent countless hours inside it eating shitty gas station cuisine and singing along to the radio at the top of your lungs as Pierre drove you to whatever adventure he had planned for the day. 

Max waves at your- his friend, you remind yourself sharply- and revs his Acura in response. He leaves the keys with the valet, picking up on the tension in your shoulders as the white car parks behind you. Max tugs your arm in attempt to turn you away, but your feet are rooted to the spot. 

“I see you found another date-” The flash of a grin on Pierre's face as he steps out is immediately dashed when he notices you on Max's arm.

If looks could kill, Max would keel over then and there. A muscle in Pierre's jaw flutters as he takes in the sight of the two of you together, your hand on the Dutchman's forearm and your matching attire looking for all the world as if it was purposefully coordinated. 

Max lifts his chin, spine going straight under Pierre's threatening glare. “Her airfare was already paid for and she already had the dress. Someone had to take her.”

Your stomach sinks; the last thing you wanted to do was become a point of contention between the two boys, but you refused to apologize for at least attempting to enjoy yourself. 

Pierre doesn't speak again, only nods to Max and pointedly avoids your stare. He tosses the keys to the smart-dressed kid serving as his valet, coming around to open Victoria's door. With his back turned to you, you take a moment to study the crisp white suit he's chosen for tonight. You had always told him black wasn't his color and he seemed to have taken it to heart. White was what you loved seeing him in, and the tight cut brought back memories of a different type of suit in an entirely different city only a few weeks ago. You'd peeled him out of that Alpha Tauri race suit the moment he made it to the trailer, eager to worship him after his podium. You'd be lying if you said it hasn't been the best sex of your life.

"Come on," Max urges, placing a chaste hand on your upper back and turning you around. He leads you up the stairs, his comforting touch never leaving your skin for a moment. The callouses were all wrong, the fingers too broad to be who you wanted it to be, and yet you couldn't help but imagine it was Pierre leading you up, stopping to smile for the few cameras scattered around.

Flashes spot your vision as you pull your face into an expression of excitement. Max murmurs something in your ear that you think is encouragement but the din of reporters is too deafening to be sure.

"How come you aren't with Pierre?"

The shouted question comes from an unknown assailant but it strikes you like a physical blow. You freeze, mouth going dry as you search for a suitable excuse. Max grants you the space of a single heartbeat to respond before he does so on your behalf.

"How about you mind your own damn business and worry about your cheating wife?"

The man who had bombarded you goes slack jawed, Max's wild guess clearly somehow hitting him just as hard as he had hit you.

"Keep walking," he urges you, leading you through the blinding sea of flashing lights. When you hear the same question directed at Pierre, his flippant laugh grates on your nerves.  

You don't have it in you to appreciate the grand architecture of the entrance hall, too busy trying to keep your breathing in check. Max steers you off to the side and places his hands on your shoulders.

"Look at me," he demands, and you drag your eyes up to his face. "Breathe. He's hurting just as bad as you, only difference is he's better at hiding it. Just enjoy the night okay? I'll grab you a drink and we can find Daniel and his friend and you two can catch up."

You nod, placing a hand on your throat. The delicate chain of the necklace is a vice around your neck, the reminder of him pulling it tight. Your pulse hammers beneath your fingers and you focus on it until it slows. "Get me whatever you're having."

Max disappears in the crowd, and you take a seat at the bench tucked in the corner. No one pays you any heed as they walk past, entranced by the elegant decor and fragrant florals. Your head falls forward to rest in your hands and you struggle to take deep, calming breaths.

Pierre was here. Inhale.

He looked happy. Exhale.

He was getting by. Inhale.

You could get by, too. Exhale.

Renewed, you glance up in time to find Max standing before you with a drink of dark liquid adorned with maraschino cherries in each hand. He extends one glass to you and you don't bother to question what it is before swallowing half in one go. "Better?"

"Much." You stand and brush out the wrinkles in your dress. "Where are we sitting?"

"Er, about that," Max starts, rubbing his neck sheepishly. "They put two teams at each table. We're at the Red Bull Alpha Tauri table."

"I see." You take another deep, steadying breath, letting the anxiety ebbing in your veins fade out with the exhale. It was times like this that you channeled Daniel a bit. It sounded silly and you would never admit it, but the slogans on his helmets worked if you focused on them hard enough. All good, all ways.

If Pierre could get through tonight, so could you.

“I can try to see if I can switch tables-”

"It's fine," you say and down the rest of the drink. “I can handle it.”

Max shifts on his feet, his discomfort something you rarely see from him. He usually excelled at keeping a straight face in uncomfortable situations but it seems that your unease rubbed off on him. “We should get going then, dinner will be served any minute.”

You once again take the arm he offers you, the liquor in your veins already granting you false courage. “We would have time to mingle if you hadn’t taken the scenic route.”

“It was nice out,” he protests, and pulls you to a halt when he spots Daniel across the hall. His girlfriend waves at you with a sad smile. She gestures between the two of you to indicate that you’ll talk later before Daniel pulls her towards the McLaren table. That boy was punctual to a fault and would be caught dead before he was late to anything.

Thankfully, the two of you arrive before Victoria and her date and are able to secure seats that ensure there’s a buffer between you. By some small miracle Christian Horner and his wife were absent and instead a few engineers and their significant others sat at the packed table. Max greets Gianpiero while you take your seat, happy to observe.

“Hey!”

You twist in time to see Yuki’s short frame emerge from the crowd and point to the empty seat to your right. “This one taken?”

You shake your head, standing to give him a quick hug. “How are you doing? Where’s your date?”

“Ah, she couldn’t make it. Had some family stuff to take care of. You look great, by the way.”

You dip your chin in thanks, unsure how else to respond. He was in a white suit that you were sure would wind up stained five minutes into dinner. “Did they mandate that you wear white?”

He shakes his head with a rueful smile. “Honestly, it’s the only one I own. I haven't been to enough events to build up my closet yet."

"Well I think it's…"

You spot Pierre before he sees you. His brow is slightly creased as he hunts for the correct table using the same focused determination as when driving his Alpha. For a split second, he meets your gaze. The cacophony of the event fades to background noise and suddenly it's just the two of you and you damn near lift your hand in a wave. You're positive he can see your heart beating out of your chest like in an old cartoon as you curl your fingers into a fist in your lap. Your restraint proves fatal, the floor falling out from beneath your feet when he drops your stare. This was your new normal, you remind yourself. Stolen glances were all you would get.

"I can move," Yuki says, starting to rise. You grip his wrist, holding him in place.

"Please don't." The only other open seats were across the table, and at least then you didn't have to worry about brushing elbows with him all night long.

Yuki nods, slowly settling back in. Max finally takes his seat after giving your shoulder a supportive squeeze.

"You don't have to say anything to him," he reminds you, barely audible over the scrape of chairs and various chatter.

You find anywhere else to look as Pierre pulls out Vic's chair for her and makes his rounds to greet everyone. Daniel and his girlfriend are seated a few tables away and you distract yourself by attempting to read their lips. You manage a few minutes of tenuous peace, catching snippets of Daniel's cheesy jokes and her disapproving, yet flirty, responses.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You squeeze your eyes shut at the sound of home. His words are honey and you lap them up like you'd never tasted anything sweeter. They weren't even directed at you and yet somehow you twist them to fit your narrative.

Pierre stands at the bottom of the stairs like a chaste high school prom date patiently waiting for your grand entrance. He checks his watch and rakes a hand through his messy hair. You stifle your laugh with a hand, amused by his unnecessary nervous energy.

Taking mercy on him, you clear your throat. His gaze snaps up to you, mouth falling open. You take your time gathering the orange fabric of your dress and descending the stairs, savoring the way he eats you up. He was resplendent in his crisp white tuxedo and you had half a mind to make him late for the gala and strip him out of it then and there and devour him.

Your heels clack on the marble floor of his entirely too fancy apartment and you pause to do a little spin for him, earning you an appreciative whistle for your trouble. A laugh bubbles out of you and you place your hands on his shoulders. His own settle on your waist to pull you flush against him, his body heat soaking through the thin fabric of your dress to warm your core.

"Damn, we clean up well, huh?"

You start when knuckles graze the back of your bare neck. The touch is there and gone but you know immediately that it's Pierre. It's slight enough to be brushed off as accidental to anyone else, but nothing was accidental with Pierre. The barely there contact conveys more than any words ever could. 

He still loved you. You looked stunning. He wishes you were still his so he could prove it to you. All this and so much more contained in a half second brush of his skin to yours.

It all comes back to you in a rush, the emotion you'd so carefully tucked away in a locked box in the back of your mind finally set free. His touch ignites any other thought in your mind that isn't him, burning it away until it's ashes on the wind. 

Despite your better judgement, you lean into him, giving him permission to unravel you. This time you sigh when his fingers ghost over your skin, electricity sparking in their wake. You didn't care who might be watching; the tiny touches were slowly repairing your shattered heart. Your traitorous mind replaces his fingers with the brush of his lips to your nape, imagining the heat as he slides the strap of your dress off your shoulder, lips moving to follow.

You bite your lip to stifle a groan when his heat is withdrawn, leaving you feeling inexplicably naked. You open your eyes to find Victoria's pitying stare paired with an apologetic smile. Max nudges you with his elbow, and you realize someone has addressed you.

"Um, what?"

"I said I like how you guys coordinated outfits," Pierre repeats and openly prods your shoulder. "Obviously Max chose the color."

His tone is playful, but his words are clipped in a way only you understand. Craning your neck, you twist to look up at him. His eyes are cloudy and his smile doesn't reach them, more for show than anything else. "It was an accident."

"Doesn't look that way."

Your retort is ready on your tongue but he doesn't give you a chance to reply before retreating to his seat. His ability to act as if nothing has changed astounds you, as your head is still reeling from the pinpricks of his skin on yours. Instead of being rendered speechless, he strikes up a conversation with Yuki about the Alpha's performance, leaving out the confidential details but giving enough away that it surprises you.

The sheer fact that he can so easily switch off whatever feelings he harbors is unfair. The sensation of his fingers on your neck still lingers and it's all you can do to keep from stepping around the table and slotting yourself between his legs like you had in that bar in London. Your nails bite into your palms, listening in if only for his voice to wash over you and calm your racing heart.

When he mentions the rake angle, you know it's just to mislead anyone who might be eavesdropping. He'd told you the exact angle in the past, and it certainly was not one degree, and it did not cause the level of understeer he was describing.

"The understeer comes from improper tire selection," you blurt. "And driver error."

All eyes turn to you and you straighten. You knew enough about the construction of a Formula 1 car to be positive your assessment was correct. You were almost as certain that he'd said it to force you into speaking to him whether you liked it or not.

"What was that?"

If Pierre could torment you with his subtle touches, you could do the same and call him out when he was wrong.

"Driver error caused the rear end to slide out around that turn in Japan, not the rake angle. That's got nothing to do with it. Your tires were blistered because of you taking an imperfect racing line and they were old. You miscalculated the level of traction they'd give you."

Why no one else had pointed it out was beyond you.

"So you're an engineer now?" Pierre challenges, crossing his arms. Something about the arrogance radiating from him rubbed you the wrong way. You let all the emotion of the past few days surface and add fuel to the fire.

"No, but I've learned enough to see through the bullshit drivers spin to mislead other teams."

Max murmurs your name in warning but your frustration is boiling over. He replaced you tonight, didn't even pause to consider going alone and instead choosing to take Victoria. Sure, it had been your fault that he was dateless, but that didn't give him the right to hurt you too. He knew it would destroy you to see him with anyone else even if it was completely platonic, but he did it anyway.

"Why don't you tell me where I should brake on turn ten since you're an expert all of a sudden?" Victoria lays a hand on his arm but he yanks it out of her grip. "What crack in the pavement? Or is it a mark on the barrier? Drive one lap in my car and then you can tell me how to drive."

It wasn't your analysis that had upset him. You'd done so plenty of times and he had always taken your criticism with an open mind, using it to tweak his driving style to improve his lap time or turn it into a teaching experience so you could learn. No, judging by the way his eyes are lined with silver that he fights to blink away, it's your betrayal that upsets him and rightfully so. You glance around the table but no one is willing to meet your eyes save for Max, who angles his head as if to say fight for it.

But you can't. It's monumentally easier to let Pierre win and sweep it under the rug than to address the deeper issue. "I was trying to help," you say lamely, picking at the salad in front of you.

"You don't get to do that anymore."

The venomous words hit like knives, knocking the breath out of you. Your mouth hangs open like a fish gasping for air but any reply you think up dies on your tongue.

As the music fades out and a man climbs up onto the stage, Pierre gets up and leaves. You track his progress as he weaves through tables, noting Daniel reaching for him as he passes. You flinch when the balcony door slams behind him, an astonished murmur rocking through the crowd.

"You should probably talk to him," Max whispers.

You shake your head, not trusting yourself to speak. You had no idea what you would say. 'Sorry' was insignificant and 'I love you' would be cruel when the barest of thought regarding how the media treated you made your stomach churn. 

Max pulls his phone out under the table and you think you see Charles' name on the screen. Good; someone had to make sure Pierre didn't do anything he would regret in the morning and if it wasn't you, Charles was the next best chaperone. A minute later, the Ferrari driver leaves his seat too, exiting the same way as Pierre. 

Focusing on what's said on stage proves fruitless. Try as you might, your attention is trained on the side door Pierre had disappeared through, praying he returns despite knowing it would mean more barbed words hurled at you. Neither he nor Charles return at any point during the presentation. His absence was quickly becoming a gaping black hole, swallowing up any semblance of sanity you had managed to gather in preparation for tonight.

"Try to have some fun," Max says, nudging you with an elbow. "As soon as this guy shuts up I’ll get us some more drinks and then we can eat and get out on the dance floor and forget about everything, yeah?"

You nod. You already feel the buzz of the first drink, and one or two more would push you thoroughly over the edge into blissful forgetfulness. "I don't wanna be sad anymore."

**********

He didn't know where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get away from you before he said something that would tear whatever hope he held of repairing what was between you to ribbons. He registers Daniel's low, "Gas, you good?" as he breezes past, but doesn't pause to answer. His sights are locked on the wide, carved oak doors that lead to fresh air.

The breath whooshes out of him when he flings open the balcony doors. They slam behind him and he winces. Chalk that up as something else for Helmut to pick him apart for on Monday.

Pierre rakes a trembling hand through his hair and rests his elbows on the railing, sucking in lungfuls of air like he'd just surfaced from a dive in the harbor. 

When you'd agreed to come to the gala with him, he had been overjoyed. You hadn't made it to the winter gala earlier this year due to a last minute exam and he had sulked the entire night. He still had the place card embossed with your name in the fishbowl by his door, the sizable container nearly overflowing with memories of you. Everything from forgotten earrings to plastic hotel key cards filled the bowl and it was a bright reminder of your adventures together. His plan had been to add another place card to the mix after tonight but after what he'd just said to you, he'd rather forget today ever happened. 

He fucking hurt. Everything just hurt, from the shirt collar scratching at his neck to the bone deep ache that had started when he laid eyes on you on those steps, arm locked with Max's. You'd stolen the words from his mouth, the jab he'd planned to toss at Max dying at the sight of you. 

He hadn't expected you to come tonight. Despite anyone's objections, he'd been fully prepared to get completely shit faced to the point that the ghost of your skin no longer haunted his fingertips and your voice no longer sang in his head. But seeing your damned face had shattered the false reality he had constructed, the one where you never broke him and left him scrambling to piece himself back together.

The universe had dealt him another low blow when he discovered Red Bull and Alpha Tauri would be at the same table and he'd be forced to endure your presence at arms length, close enough to touch but absolutely not allowed to do so. It was his own personal hell, constructed solely to punish him for whatever transgressions he'd made in his life.

And that fucking dress. 

The orange painted the aquamarine charm at the hollow of your throat in sharp relief, showing it off like he somehow still owned you. If you had arrived with him, he would have already led you back to the Civic and bunched that damned dress up past your hips to drag his favorite sounds from you with his tongue. If he could just get you alone, he's sure it wouldn't take more than a single touch to have you crashing into him and begging for more.

Seeing you with Max tonight paints an entirely different picture.

It's Max he sees tearing off the dress at the end of the night when you get back to his apartment. Max's hands slide over your hips and you laugh, walking back so you can keep your lips on his as he slams the door shut behind you. You dip your head back when he presses you to the wall, Max unfaltering as his lips and teeth trace the curve of your exposed throat and he slips the straps of the matching dress of your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Max's name breezes past your lips on a shaky exhale as you become putty beneath his fingers.

No matter how loud Pierre calls your name, you don't hear him, instead cupping the back of the Dutchman's head and pulling him in for a heated kiss. When you do finally notice him observing from afar, agony wracking his body, all you do is grin. It feels real, even though Pierre is certain it's a crazed fever dream, his mind spinning his worst fear to life: you seeking comfort in the company of someone that wasn't him.

Pierre starts when the door squeaks open, the nightmare thankfully dissolving. Charles steps out clad head to toe in blazing Ferrari red and instantly he knows who sent him. The thought alone stokes rage in his chest, the image of your lips on Max's still fresh.

"Not as easy as you expected it to be, is it?" He asks, stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"Fuck off," Pierre growls and immediately regrets it. Beyond you, Charles was his closest friend. They had known each other for ages. It wasn’t a friendship he was willing to sacrifice just because he felt like shit. Pierre sighs and throws him an apologetic glance. "No it's not."

"Why don't you talk to her?"

"She doesn't want to fucking talk, Charles. Take one look at her, she's hanging on Max like she can't get enough of him." Pierre hangs his head in his hands, emotions shifting faster than he did on race day. "I can't go back in there and watch her choose him over me."

"You don't really believe that bullshit, do you?" Charles asks, joining him at the railing.

Not entirely, but he still struggled to understand your thought process. He thought he knew you, but you being here tonight when he had been certain you wouldn't be proved he didn't. 

"I don't know what to believe anymore. I thought it would be forever, that I'd finally found someone who didn't mind my lifestyle and accepted it for what it was, who loved me unconditionally. I thought she was my forever."

"You think she's done with you just because some assholes invaded her privacy?" Charles shakes his head. "She's loved you for a long time, years even. You haven't seen the looks she gives you, but the rest of us have. You hung the moon in her sky, Pierre. That kind of thing doesn't just get swept away by the breeze."

His shoulders curl inward in an attempt to hide the frustrated tear that escapes him. "What am I supposed to do?"

Charles shrugs. "I don't think there's a right answer to that. Try giving her some space. She didn't grow up in the spotlight like we did. It's not an easy adjustment for some people, mate. And blowing up on her when she tries to make conversation doesn't help anything," he says gently. "Let her figure it out and come to you when she's ready."

The concept of letting you go even temporarily was terrifying to him. Waiting on you to make the first move was even worse because he was setting his fate in your hands. 

"I miss her," he murmurs, turning his face to his friend.

"I know." Charles throws an arm around the taller man's shoulders and follows his gaze out over the tiered streets of Monaco's city center. "My suggestion is to throw yourself into the season. Show her you know how to fight, y'know?"

Pierre nods. He could do that. It was how he normally handled his problems anyway; let the track wick away whatever was on his mind and force him to hone in on the details surrounding him in each moment. 

"You ready to head inside?" Charles asks.

"I don't think I can go back just yet."

"Want me to hang out here with you?"

"No. I'll be back eventually."

Charles' hand falls from his shoulder after a short squeeze, the sound of a tinny voice over the speakers temporarily flooding the balcony as Charles returns to the banquet. Pierre allows himself a few more moments of reprieve before slipping back inside just as the applause starts. Rather than returning to the delicately portioned meal that sat cooling before his empty chair, he orders a drink. Whiskey on the rocks, his go to in times of crisis. He takes one sip before the reminder of you ordering it for him in London makes holding the glass of caramel liquid unbearable and he downs it in a single swallow, going back to order a beer instead.

He nurses the green bottle of Heineken as he leans against the wall until the meal is finished and the chit chat starts. You stand with Max, practically pressed against him as you snatch a flute of champagne from a passing server. You search the crowd, brows drawing together when you don't locate your quarry. Pierre had made sure that he was tucked out of the low lighting, unsure if he could survive you stealing worried glances at him all night. 

Charles winds his way over to pass off a roll he snagged from dinner, practically forcing the Frenchman to eat it before returning to his date. He nibbles at it absentmindedly, entirely too focused on you to divert an ounce of focus elsewhere.

Your dress is a glowing sun in a sea of earth tone garments, drawing his eye as you pull Max out onto the wood platform serving as the dance floor before the tables are fully cleared. The flush in your cheeks tells him you're deeper in your cups than you should be; Max didn't know your limit as well as he did. Three drinks was all you could manage before you got tipsy, five if you wanted to be completely blitzed. 

The lights dim and his hiding spot is no longer quite as good as the party lights sweep over him from time to time. Max places one hand on your hip and you place one on his shoulder and grin up at him. Judging by the fit of giggles that requires you to lean into Max for support, you were teetering dangerously on the edge of being wholly drunk. You throw your head back and laugh at whatever Max says in response to your fit, Pierre straining to hear the musical sound over the band. 

"Hey," Victoria says, breaking his concentration. "You wanna get out there?"

Pierre grimaces. He had managed to completely forget about her, too stuck in his own head. "Sorry, Vic. I don't think I'd be a very good partner tonight."

"No worries," she says, a soft, understanding smile on her lips. "I can keep myself busy."

Pierre nods his thanks, his attention immediately returning to the dance floor. Daniel and his girlfriend steal the show, both laughing as he dips and twirls her across the floor. 

Being together was so fucking easy for them, effortless in a way it wasn't for you and Pierre. They never once paid any heed to the photographers that swarmed them or the headlines printed about them, they just laughed the rumors off and carried on. No one could question their love for each other because they were vocal about it- sometimes annoyingly so- and Daniel was rarely seen in public without her at his side. They were always touching, holding hands or stealing kisses or even the near scandal of his hand blatantly on her ass at the podium a few races back, and neither of them cared.

Their love was all that mattered. They didn't care who knew it.

But you and Pierre were far too private to be like that, at least not when you were still trying to figure things out yourself. The first sign of outside pressure had you cracking, and he wouldn't stand for knowing he was the source of your pain.

He tries and fails to convince himself he isn't jealous of the way Dan's hand so easily glides under the navy blue silk of her dress to caress her back without a second thought, wishing he could do the same to you. If he's being honest, he's living vicariously through Daniel for the next few songs, pretending he was someone else observing you and himself on the dance floor instead. It almost works; the way she shudders when his lips graze her ear is strikingly similar to how you'd react. The smile she flashes up at him is agonizingly close to your own wicked grin.

When her mouth finds his, Pierre gathers his wits and turns away. Their blatant public affection flipped a switch inside him, disgust rocking through him for a split second before he pushed it away.

He was happy for them. He knew what a long, rocky road it had been for them to become lovers instead of friends, had firsthand knowledge of the stress they'd gone through before they'd finally admitted their feelings to each other, put their pride aside and got together. Pierre had been the one to offer her advice on a night not much different than this one months ago, helping repair the damage Daniel's idiotic, thoughtless words had caused. 

But Pierre had since become the person who was sickened at the sight of others in love. It reminded him that part of himself was missing and he hated it.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't keep his eyes from wandering back to you. You still occasionally scan the room as Max struggles to lead you through a dance. By some stroke of bad luck your gaze snags on him just as a spotlight illuminates his face and he grimaces. A slow blink is the only surprise you let show before laying your head on Max's shoulder. Jealousy spikes through him like wildfire, igniting his blood and tinging his vision with red.

He wants to march over and rip you off Max. He wants you tucked safely against him as his thumb rubs circles on the bare skin of the small of your back. He wants, more than anything, to take you to his apartment and half carry you up the stairs, having to shush you because you're giggling loud enough to wake the dead, and lay you down in his bed. He wants to help you out of that stunning dress and into a pair of his sweats and curl up against you, letting you sleep off your hangover until noon.

He'd fucked up that chance though, hadn't he? He had slipped up and driven you straight into your friend's arms, who he trusted not to make a move on you but not enough to negate the jealousy coursing through him.

In that moment, he hates you. He hates the hold you have on him, the way a simple gesture between half-drunk friends could send him into a spiral so steep he didn't recognize himself. He hates that he can't keep his eyes off you, your gravity too strong for him to resist.

Most of all, he hates that he doesn’t know how to quit you.

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max​ @sunshinesewis​ @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval 

[watchmegetobsessed]

VALERIE - Part V. (Harry Styles)

happy sunday loves!! part 5 is here, buckle up bc we are getting down to business here!! thank you so much for the nice feedbacks, it’s always so moving and inspiring to read your thoughts, so please keep them coming! even if it’s just some gibberish rambling, those are the best haha! now let’s jump right into part 5, we are heading into the christmas mood and im so excited for yall to read this part!! enjoy!

word count: 6.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

By the time November nears its end you officially become a couple with Marcus. It happens gradually, two more dates follow your first one, and then on the third one you agree to test the waters of the possibilities between the two of you exclusively. 

Marcus is a great guy. He is funny, caring and smart, always listens to you and cares for even the smallest details about you when you’re talking. He is great company and never fails to make you feel appreciated and wanted. Exactly what you’ve been looking for in a guy, Rosa really hit the nail on the head this time. 

You easily fall into a habit with him. Fridays are for date nights, sometimes you go for little trips outside the city on Sundays and he never misses a chance to send you flowers throughout the week. He is just the type of guy that’s always there to cheer you up with something whenever the days start to weigh down on your shoulders. 

You even have dinner together with Rosa and Steven one Saturday evening, Rosa keeps giving you those ‘I told you so’ eyes whenever Marcus kisses you shortly or places his hand to your waist. You mostly just roll your eyes at her, not wanting to make a big deal out of the two of you, but Rosa knows how long you’ve been trying to find someone. 

What’s a surprising turn is that you start seeing Harry more. Intentionally. You have no idea how it happens, but it does and you’re not mad about it. Some days you grab lunch together whenever he is in the neighborhood, some days you go shopping with him when his sister doesn’t have the time. Harry is a problematic shopper, he takes a long time to decide on clothes so usually you are the one that forces him to choose and finish before all shops close. 

When he has had a rough week and you happened to call him for whatever reason, the two of you agree to meet up for drinks at his place, then end up playing UNO for hours, slowly emptying out two bottles of wine.

It’s starting to get harder to imagine what it was like when things weren’t like this with him. When you were getting anxiety from just the thought of seeing him or having to talk to him. It’s like the both of you are showing a different version of yourselves to each other and you have to admit you enjoy being friends with him. 

He keeps his habit of teasing you and making jokes about you though, but you don’t mind it. He is not doing it in a mean way with the attempt to piss you off, but to make you laugh and start a playful war where you both throw insults at each other until one of you runs out of it and just starts laughing. You feel a kind of dynamic building between you and him that has a way better effect on you than the continuous killing you were doing before.

You can tell Rosa is thankful for the change as well. Whenever she sees you interact with Harry without making a grimace or have that face that screams how badly you want to hit him, she is relieved that she has one less thing to worry about and Valerie will have two amazing godparents who even like each other.

Christmas is always a big parade in your family. Your mom and your aunts always want to celebrate together so in the past few years it has become a tradition to rent a place out that has enough space for the whole extended family and spend three days there from the 23rd to the 25th. This year your dad found a huge cabin in the woods with ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms, just the perfect size for you all. It’s gonna be your parents, Rosa and Steven with Valerie, Aunt Monica, Aunt Teresa with Uncle Andrew, your cousin Etta, her husband Joe and their two kids, your other cousin Lily with her husband Jeremy and their daughter, and lastly you and Harry.  Though your mom urged you to invite Marcus along as well, he could join you for longer than a dinner, since he was already set to fly home to his family.

“You sure he can’t stay for at least the first night?” you mom asks on the phone one evening. You’re stirring the sauce in the pan. holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder so you have both of your hands free.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s fine, he can come for dinner and then leave later.”

“I get it, but it would have been fun if he stayed,” she sighs, clearly disappointed that she couldn’t change what’s already set. If you’re being honest you don’t mind that Marcus is not staying for the night. You haven’t been dating for that long, you feel like it would be a little uncomfortable to have him there the whole time. A dinner is perfectly fine as a starter, since he hasn’t met anyone else from your family other than Rosa and Steven.

“Anyway,” she sighs moving on, “Have you figured it out how you’re gonna get there?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll tag along with someone.”

“Well, I think you should ask Harry. Everyone else is pretty packed already. Rosa and Steven won’t have any extra space with Valerie this year.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. These past years Rosa always offered you a ride for the holidays, but even when they brought her over for just one night their car was jam-packed. No way you’re gonna fit in there so you are left with Harry since Marcus can only come in the afternoon.

“Sure, I’ll ask him.”

You shoot him a text that day and he replies right away that you’re welcomed in his car, though he won’t be able to take you back since he is leaving early in the morning on the 25th since he is flying back to the UK to his family. It’s fine, you think, you’ll just probably just tag along with aunt Monica back to the city, she always gets her a car for these occasions. Though it’s not your ideal option, she is not the best partner for rides, because she is a fan of smoking in the car, but you don’t have much of a choice. 

“I’ll call you when I leave, okay?” Marcus tells you on the morning of the 23rd. It’s early, barely seven, but he is up because he needs to work a little today and you are finishing up packing since Harry will be here in an hour to pick you up.

“Sure. Drive safe,” you huff sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your suitcase that’s still not closed, clothes are sticking out on the side and you’re sure you’ll have to sit on it to pull the zipper.

“See you later,” Marcus says before you end the call. 

It’s rather comical how you try to close the suitcase but you only care about the fact that you eventually succeed. Only minutes before eight you are packed and ready so when you get Harry’s text that he is outside you can leave right away.

Seeing you with your big suitcase he hops out of the car and rushes to help you.

“How long are you planning to stay, Y/N?” he chuckles lifting the bag up and you just shrug your shoulders with a smirk. You’ve alway been a heavy packer, no need to try to cover it up.

Harry throws your stuff into the back of the car as you take the passenger seat. His phone is hooked to the car, a playlist of his own playing gently through the speakers and you’re surprised to catch on the Christmas feeling in the songs.

“Are you in the spirit?” you ask when he gets into the car.

“Like to set the mood ahead,” he chuckles starting the car and off you go. 

Ridiculous to think about it, but it’s actually the first time you sit in the same car with Harry or see him drive even. The way you two used to be was not quite ideal to have you locked up in such a small place as a car. But now you have nothing against spending the almost hour long drive with him. 

“Can you pull out the navigation when I leave the highway? I’m not sure where exactly I need to head,” he asks you, eyes fixed on the road ahead of him and nodding you open the app on your phone so his can keep on playing the music without the voice of the navigation interrupting it. 

“Excited to spend your first Christmas with us?” you ask. Though Harry was there at several family events, it’s his first Christmas since becoming Valerie’s godfather. 

“I am,” he chuckles, nodding, hands gripping the wheel gently. He is a natural driver, easily working the car, the kind you feel completely safe next to. As Baby It’s Cold Outside comes on a smile stretches across your lips as you start gently bop your head to the song. “I’ve heard crazy stuff about Christmases at your family,” he adds glancing in your way for a second.

“Like what?”

“I remember when Steven told me about his first Christmas with your family. You remember that?”

Searching in your memories you tried to remember when was the first time Rosa brought Steven along. They dated for two years before they got married so it’s been about five years since then, but as you think hard the memory of that specific year pops into your head making you laugh as you nod.

“Oh, yes. The year Aunt Monica almost burned the Airbnb down,” you sigh grinning at the memory. She brought some special kind of cigars that year that were told to be curiosities from somewhere fancy, but they ended up the literal worst quality, flaming bits were falling out them all the time when she would smoke one, almost making the rug catch on fire wherever she went. Best thing is that she was already drunk on the liquor so she didn’t even notice, there was always a person on Aunt Monica duty, following her around, making sure nothing burnt down. 

“Steven said he had a moment when he thought about bailing,” Harry tells you and you gasp, because that’s new information.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but like only for a split second after your dad walked in on him naked in the bathroom. That was kind of the last straw. Luckily Rosa could convince him to stay. Guess it all worked out at the end.” Harry smiles as he stares ahead of him.

You can’t imagine a version where Rosa and Steven don’t end up together. They met through a mutual friend not long after Rosa had a nasty breakup with her scumbag ex. Steven was there to put her back together and be her partner as she found herself again. The change and positive impact he had on her could be seen every day and you were so thankful to him for helping your sister find her way out of such a dark place in her life. It didn’t take them too long to start dating and he proposed a little more than a year later. You still remember how Rosa was screaming in the phone when she called you that evening telling you that Steven proposed. They are quite literally a match made in heaven. It’s been your goal in life to find this person in your life though you haven’t had much luck with men so far. Ironically, if you were in a room with every man you were ever involved with in any kind of way, Harry would be the only one you’d want to talk with. If you had to make this exact same choice just months ago you would have chosen to run out screaming. 

“Maybe this year it’s your turn to get horrified from us,” you laugh, sinking down a little in your seat as you adjust the seat belt. You’re still quite far away from the cabin, you might as well make yourself comfortable. 

“I think there’s not much that I haven’t witnessed yet. I was walked in on at the bathroom once too, but it was your cousin, Etta.”

“When did that happen?” you ask with a heartfelt laugh.

“I think it was last summer at one of your nieces’ birthday party. Luckily everything was already tucked away when she basically barged in.”

“She didn’t miss much,” you tease him with a smirk and your witty comment catches him by surprise.

“Are you saying my dick is not imposing enough to be worthy of peeking?” he asks with raised eyebrows and you’re happy he is driving. His intimidating look would already burn right into your skin by now, but he is forced to watch the road instead. 

“I mean, if you want to put it that way…” you continue, but a laugh escapes your lips.

“Take that back, Y/N,” he orders, sneaking a hard look at you before turning back ahead, but you can see the small smile hiding on his lips. 

“Or what?”

“Or you might find yourself in a war you don’t want to be involved in,” he warns you, but his words don’t quite have the effect on you he wanted. Because in a heartbeat you find yourself feeling… excited? Thrilled? Even curious about his means behind his words. 

“Wouldn’t want to lie, so…” Pretending like you’re sorry you shrug your shoulders as Harry gives you a look that makes your stomach churn. Now either you are gonna have some fun teasing each other or… you just threw yourself into the arms of the Devil himself. Either way, you’re certain Harry won’t leave it in that.

Turning your head to your window you can’t keep your smile contained as you think of the fact that how big of a lie it was. Harry is surely not a guy who should ever worry about any aspect of his manhood. You’re talking from experience. 

***

The cabin is absolutely gorgeous, just the perfect place for a cozy family holiday. Hidden from the busy roads with a secure gate and tall trees on both sides, the back of it is facing a majestic view of the valley and the evergreen covered hill in the distance. With an interior straight from the pages of a magazine, you need just a few moments to adjust to your surroundings upon arriving.

“I saved a nice room for you, Harry!” your mother gushes the moment she sees the two of you walk through the front door. You huff in annoyance.

“And what about me?” 

Harry chuckles giving you a smug grin. “Guess you’re just second after me.”

“It’s his first Christmas with us, he deserves the better room,” your mom shushes at you, making your eyes roll instantly. It’s still hard to believe Harry has this kind of charm over most people.

After greeting everyone who is already there, your dad, Aunt Teresa and Etta with her family, your mom walks the two of you down one of the hallways that leads to several bedrooms. She stops at the last door with an excited grin on her face as she opens it revealing the bedroom behind it. 

You instantly understand why she thought this is the best one. The view is absolutely breathtaking, the gentle noon light is flowing into the room through the floor to ceiling windows, the king sized bed facing them so when you wake up in the morning the first thing you see is the endless sea of evergreens on the side of the hill. Not to mention the room has its own bathroom, not many of the other rooms are blessed with that. There’s a spacious shower that has enough space for at least three people in there and it’s one of those fancy ones that can make you feel like you’re having a shower in the middle of a jungle, mood lights and bluetooth speakers attached to it.

“No fucking way Harry is getting this room!” you gasp as you look around, taking in the luxure your mother is willing to hand over to him.

“Jealous, much?” he smirks, throwing his sports bag to the bed already ruining the neatly made sheets. He does not deserve this.

“Mom!” you huff turning to her, but she has made her mind up already.

“Your room is nice too, don’t worry Honey. Let Harry have this one!”

“I really can’t believe you are taking his side,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms on your chest as you take one last look at the stunning view. 

“Come on, Y/N. He is a guest!”

“He is not! You said it yourself he is family now!” you retort and Harry just laughs behind you, so you shoot him a murderous look over your shoulder, that just fuels his entertainment.

“Don’t be silly. Your room is the second one on the right from here,” she smiles at you. “We are gonna take a walk around once everyone arrives, so get settled by then!” she informs you before walking out. 

“Hey,” Harry’s soft voice makes you turn around. “You can have the room if you want.”

Your eyebrows rise at the kind gesture, it’s very not like him, even now in your friendly state, so it’s quite odd that he is willing to switch rooms with you.

“No need,” you shake your head grabbing the handle of your suitcase that you abandoned at the door.

“You sure? It doesn’t matter where I’m sleeping, really.”

“I’m not gonna deal with my mother’s scolding if she finds out I took your room, so you can totally stay.” 

Harry chuckles as you head out, but stop at the door to have one last word with him. “Though I might occupy your bathroom, that shower looks nice.”

“All yours,” he grins before you walk out.

***

By 11 am everyone arrives and the once quiet cabin is now buzzing from life, children running around, Valerie’s babbling shoots through the spacious living area where Rosa set her crib up, your mother is already making preparations for dinner while most of the men are circled around the pool table having a beer since no one has to drive for the rest of the day. 

“When is Marcus arriving?” Rosa asks, eyes on Valerie who is absolutely destroying something that once were an elephant maybe, but she’s been ruthless with the poor animal, chewing and throwing it around all the time, so it’s not just a grey, fuzzy mess.

“Sometime before dinner. He has some work to finish,” you tell her pulling your legs under yourself on the comfy couch.

“And explain again, why isn’t he staying for the night?” she turns to you with a puzzled look.

“Because he is going home to his family early in the morning tomorrow.”

“Okay, but he could have just left from here, didn’t he?”

“It’s… complicated. It’s better if he just goes back home tonight and then leaves from there in the morning.”

What you leave out of the whole explanation is that you didn’t really invite him to stay the night as well. Sounds horrible and ridiculous but you didn’t think you’d have felt comfortable with him staying. You’ve been dating for only barely more than a month and though things are going well, you felt like starting with just a dinner would be a better idea. Marcus didn’t question why you didn’t offer him to stay, it seemed like he was fine with just coming and then going after dinner. 

Does this make you a bad girlfriend? Maybe, but you value your comfort and feelings more than to ruin your favorite holiday with your family. 

Just as you mom said, once everyone is settled in their rooms for the upcoming three days, the whole gang dresses up to have a walk around taking the welcoming little path that runs around the cabin and is smooth enough for Valerie’s carriage as well. Your nieces and nephew are quick to surround Harry and nag him to join them at the front, exploring the woods surrounding the path. It seems like he doesn’t mind it and gladly takes part in the adventure, also secretly looking after them so their parents can have a break and enjoy the stroll in hopes the walk tires the kids out enough that they’ll willingly go to bed in the evening instead of whining to stay up late. 

You’re walking with Etta next to you as she tells you about Hannah’s latest dance competition when you spot that Harry and Oliver, your nephew, Etta’s other kid are suspiciously whispering around pointing in your direction. At last Olly nods and runs up to you showing a quite thick piece of wood into your hand. You look down at him confused.

“Thank you?” you tell him a little unsure what it’s all about.

“I found it in a bush, I want to take it home. Harry said you’ll keep it for me because you have a good hand for thick and hard sticks.”

You almost choke on your own breath, as Olly just carelessly runs back ahead to join his sister. You immediately look over to Etta in fear that she heard what Harry told Oliver, but luckily she was talking with Joe turning back, not really paying attention to the conversation you just had with her son. If she did, Harry probably wouldn’t live by now.

Speaking of the devil, you look in his way and that annoying, smug grin is right there as he nods in your way saluting before he shows his hands into his pockets and turns back around to catch up with the kids. 

That disgusting piece of shit really went into the depth of teaching something secretly dirty to your nephew as a way of payback for your comment in the car earlier. He surely wasn't just joking when he said you’d pay for what you said. And you have a feeling he is just getting started. 

***

Aunt Monica is like a legend in your family. She is the oldest between your mom and her sisters, already in her sixties, but in the heart she still feels like she has just turned twenty. She never married, but had several men in her life, love affairs, short flings, but none of them lasted for more than a year. 

“Why would I settle when there’s so many fish in the sea?” she once told you, her iconic Chanel sunglasses sat on her nose as she sipped on her martini. 

She has worked many jobs throughout her life, she was once a dancer, she waited tables and even worked as a TV host at one point in the ‘80s. She was the true free spirit of the family, her sisters often questioned her sanity, but you think there’s nothing wrong with how she lived her life, enjoying it to the last bit. In the early ‘90s she was seeing a millionaire, probably the only man she would have given her lifestyle up for. Unfortunately, they never married, the man passed away due to his heart problems, however, since he had little to zero family he left basically everything to Aunt Monica. Money, house, cars, business, everything. Being the smart woman that she is, she handed over the business into professional hands but she is still the owner, so the money is still flowing even though she could have lived happily on the money she inherited without ever having to work a day. 

She seems a little odd in your family, but she has always been a loving aunt to you, a caring sister and she never fails to take care of her loved ones. She is the one to pay for all these Christmas getaways, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stay in places this nice.

“What’s all the money for if I don’t spend it on my family?” she always says when someone questions if she is fine with paying for everything. Your mom and Teresa have tried to convince her to let them at least pay for part of it but she wouldn’t even listen to them. 

She likes to have her own, sometimes odd ways in life. She definitely has a drinking problem, but not in a dangerous way. You have never seen her completely wasted, she just likes to keep things buzzing and always have a drink on her whenever she needs the extra fun. Because of her past she has the greatest stories about meeting famous people back in the days or how soldiers used to try to win her over when she was just a teenager.

“Oh, those things happened,” your mom told you when one day you questioned if you could believe all the crazy stories Aunt Monica tells you. “She was like… the star of the show. Used to hate living in her shadow, but I can’t blame her for enjoying life and doing the things I was too afraid to do myself.”

Now you’re sitting in the sunroom that faces the amazing view behind the cabin, the Christmas tree is standing tall in the corner, beautifully decorated in white and beige. Valerie is snuggled up to your chest as you gently rub her back and you listen to Aunt Monica tell you about how a literal captain once proposed to her after just three days of knowing each other.

“He was a gentleman, but a beast in the bed, Y/N. I’m telling you, men in uniform are just a different level of satisfaction.”

She sighs deep, taking a sip from her margarita that’s definitely not her first drink, and you just laugh nodding.

“He was begging for me to go to Italy with him.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“Who said I didn’t?” she asks with a pretentious hurt look turning to you and you just laugh. You should have known the story would go this way. “I accepted the offer, only turned down his proposal when we sailed off and then we parted as soon as I stepped onto the land of Italy. Broke his heart into pieces, but I was too busy enjoying the Italian summer.”

Harry comes in and hands you a bottle filled with juice that probably Rosa sent for Valerie.

“Thank you,” you smile at him shortly as you adjust the little girl in your arms and hand her the bottle.

“Young boy, have you ever proposed to someone?” Aunt Monica asks Harry who stops in his way as he was already about to head out, but now he walks back to the sofa where she is sitting.

“No, not yet,” he shakes his head.

“And how do you think you would if the time came?”

You watch Harry think to himself at the odd and quite random question. It’s not really something you would have ever asked him, but now that there’s the chance to hear his answer you are listening curiously. 

“Depends on the woman I’m proposing to,” he replies after a few seconds.

“How would you propose to Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you turn to your aunt with shock all over your face. You definitely didn’t want yourself dragged into this.

“Aunt Monica, that’s--”

“Shush! I’m just asking theoretically. Wanna hear his answer.”

Harry’s eyes wander over to your sitting figure on the sofa as he leans onto the back of the one in front of him. You can feel the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks under his burning look and you just know he enjoys how nervous you got from this simple question that wasn’t even asked from you. 

Licking his lips he moves his eyes from you over to Aunt Monica who is still waiting for his answer.

“Something romantic, but not too grandiose, I know she doesn’t like being in the center of the attention that much. Maybe…” Tapping on his chin you listen to his words and without even realizing you hold your breath. “Maybe on a hike with a nice view. She would be admiring the view when I get down on one knee and as she turns around I pop the lid on the box.”

What bugs you is that it’s an awfully accurate description of how you’d imagined your proposal. He was right about many aspects, like how you don’t like being in the center of attention. No idea how he nailed so easily, but he did. 

Glancing down you pretend to be busy with Valerie who is still peacefully drinking her juice, eyes wandering around the room relentlessly.

“So you really look to satisfy her deepest fantasies, careful about even the smallest details. Women appreciate it,” Aunt Monica nods, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable she just made you feel.

“Thank you, I do like to satisfy women,” Harry cheekily answers with a smirk, eyes locking with yours for a moment as Aunt Monica lets out a laugh at the dirty comment. Before you could bite your tongue a retort slips out of your mouth.

“What a shame you don’t always succeed.”

Harry’s eyes turn from playful to dark pretty quickly and you enjoy the victory over him. Your comment in the car earlier already wounded his manhood, now it’s another stab right into his… crotch. It’s the least he deserves after what he taught poor Olly.

“That I don’t believe. He seems like an absolute pleaser.” Aunt Monica winks in Harry’s way who just smiles at her shyly, but you can tell your comment is still bugging him. 

“I think Y/N knows that too herself, am I right?” He tilts his head to the side and you stand your ground with holding his gaze and not looking away.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” you simply say, just when you hear your mom calling out for you. “Would you take her please?” you innocently ask walking up to Harry, holding Valerie out for him. You can tell he is looking for a witty comeback, but he has nothing just yet, so he is stuck with keeping his mouth shut as he takes baby Valerie from you. You gift him with a sweet, but definitely spikey smile before leaving him there with Aunt Monica. 

***

Dinner is already almost ready, you’re helping your mom and Aunt Teresa in the kitchen with the finishing touches, Joe and Harry packing out the wine bottles from the rack Jeremy brought them in, the two of them examining the bottles with such professionalism you almost believe they have the slightest idea about what to look for in a good wine. 

“Should we open some red or white ones for tonight’s dinner?” Joe asks your mom who is the master chef when it comes to the dinner.

“Red would suit better,” she answers. “Are they sweet?”

“Some, yeah,” Harry nods holding up a bottle and checking the label.

“Great. Monica loves that too,” Teresa chuckles as she adds some salt to the mashed potato. 

“And Y/N too,” Harry adds, not even looking up, but he successfully attracts your mom’s attention with his comment.

“She does?” Harry looks up and sees your boiling anger plastered all over your face, so of course he chooses to take it further.

“Oh, yeah. She can drink like a gallon. Wine drunk Y/N is like a whole different person.”

“I told you so many times not to get drunk, Y/N. It’s not too ladylike. When was the last time you saw her drunk?”

“There were plenty of occasions,” Harry exaggerates and you could kill him right there. “Though last time it was the tequila that got her wildin’.”

That damned smirk of his is making your hands curl into fists and for a moment you tell yourself it’s okay to punch him in front of your mother even if she’ll probably disown you for such behavior. 

“Y/N! I have told you a million times that you need to know where your limits lie!” she huffs shaking her head at you while you clench your jaw. Back at it with the lessons about getting drunk. She’ll never get over it, not even when you’ll be forty. Why does it matter to her so much? Sometimes she is the one to get you started, but then she gives you the dirtiest looks when you have one too many. She should just get used to it now. 

“She surely likes to have fun when she has had a few drinks,” Harry continues smugly. “Remember how much fun you had at Rosa and Steven’s wedding?”

“Oh, God! I remember how drunk you were that evening, I could have killed you!” your mother growls and you roll your eyes at her.

“It wasn’t that bad. There were a lot more people who got way more wasted than me,” you try to defend yourself folding your arms on your chest. 

“That doesn’t change that you were too,” she says with a hard look. Great, now she is mad at you for something that happened literally years ago. Kudos to Harry for ruining her mood.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Harry adds and you look in his way with suspicion. “She was a delight when it was time to get her to bed.”

Your mouth almost hangs open, but it seems like you’re the only one understanding what he really meant by that. Luckily, beside you and him, Rosa and Steven are the only people who knows what happened between you and Harry that night, so it’s no surprise no one else catches on the hint.

“You were the one who took her up to her room? Sorry if she was a burden,” your mother sighs and right at that moment you wish the floor would just open up and you could disappear forever. Harry’s satisfied grin is the evidence that he just won another round of this nasty war.

Just as you open your mouth to try and move the conversation to another field you see a pair of headlights pull up to the driveway. Everyone turns to the window as Marcus’ car parks down last in the line. As you step away from the counter you see the confusion in Harry’s eyes about the new guest.

“Oh, amazing! He is here!” your mom cheers, seemingly instantly forgetting about how she was dragging you just a minute ago.

“Who’s here?” you hear Harry ask, but you’re already out of there, heading to the front door to greet Marcus.

Just as you walk out into the cold evening air you see him get out with a warm smile on his lips. You wait for him at the door, arms wrapped around yourself and as he reaches you he places a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Hey, how was the drive?” you ask him.

“It was fine. I didn’t arrive too late, right?”

“No, we were just about to set the table. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

He takes your hand in his as the two of you walk inside, all eyes immediately turning your way at the arrival of your boyfriend.

“Everyone, I want you all to meet my boyfriend, Marcus. He is staying for dinner.”

Your family members walk up to the two of you, shaking hands and introducing themselves to Marcus who smiles at everyone politely, trying his best to remember all the names and information that’s thrown at him all of a sudden. Everyone seems delighted to have him for dinner, the kids instantly make him promise he’ll play a card game with them after dinner and he happily says yes to the invitation. 

You can tell your mom is proud that finally both of her daughters are spending Christmas with a man by their side and you’re almost certain your dad took a liking to Marcus the moment he mentioned he is into fishing.

Everyone seems excited and happy for Marcus, there’s just one face that doesn’t fit in the line of joyful smiles. Harry stands quite far from the two of you and only gets closer when he shakes hands with Marcus. His cocky grin is long gone from his face as he keeps his hard look on your boyfriend who is chatting with everyone. Standing next to Marcus, your hand still holding his, your eyes lock with Harry’s and there’s an unknown, burning feeling in your gut when his hard gaze holds yours. The sudden change and cold act gets you wondering what’s really going on in his mind. He is the first one to look away and you watch him walk into the kitchen and disappear from your sight before you force a smile on your lips and turn back to Marcus.

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[shadyteacup]

could i also pls request for ur 300+ event? i’d like 4 from the angst prompts (make me suffer AHDJDHSKD) with ranpo, thank u <3

Some sweet suffering coming up, now😌 I love torturing y'all so much, that I ignore the pain writing angst causes lmao

Edogawa Ranpo + “Please just pretend to love me.”

Word count: 1429 || Warnings: angst, swearing out of frustration.

You were one of those people that ran behind fame. You loved money, respect and a place among the important individuals of society. Your life’s goal has been to become successful enough to live a luxurious life, and have people look up to you.

During your efforts to do so, you met a certain noiret, whose brilliance and emerald gaze made you week in the knees. You fell for him, hard. At least, that’s what you made him believe. You made him fall for you. You both were living the perfect life. You would make him breakfast, kiss each other when you awoke, gaze into each other’s eyes, bathing in the morning rays. You two would eat out on Thursdays, order in on Fridays, and go shopping on Sundays. It was perfect. It was beautiful. But it was shallow.

Ranpo Edogawa, obviously, knew this. He knew that you were only with him because of his fame as the best detective out there. He knew that you were only into him for the benefits, and that if he was to give up on his career, you wouldn’t bat an eyelid before dumping him. That’s part of the reason that he accepted many cases and didn’t throw a tantrum when asked to actually work at the ada. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t lose you. You were the only individual that has ever tolerated his mood swings and has stayed. Besides, you were gorgeous. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. You were so perfect. You played the part of a loving partner so well, that you almost had him, the smartest person on the bloody planet, fooled. It took him a while to realise your true intentions, and even after that, it took him a while to accept it. He loved you dearly, and he just didn’t have the guts to admit that your relationship was built on greed. He started closing himself off from others, and soon became a shell of the man that he used to be. He left the office early, didn’t talk to his peers, mostly kept to himself, didn’t joke around, and worst of all, lost interest in snacks. Yosano, his dear friend and concerned colleague, decided to confront him about this issue.

“What’s up with you? And don’t tell me that you’re fine, because you obviously aren’t.”

Ranpo had, after months of silence, openly talked to someone that day.

“I don’t think it’s true love, Yosano.”

He had shed many tears that day, knowing that his friend would keep them a secret. He trusted her.

“You think, or you know?”

She had asked. He was left stunned at her question. Was he sure of this? Was he just overanalysing, and hence overreacting? What if Y/N actually loved him?

“I- don’t know.”

He sighed, leaning into Yosano’s shoulder while she pat his back.

“Then find out. Observe. Know for sure.”

He sniffed.

“But what if I’m right?”, he shifted to look at her, his face showing just how scared he truly was.

“For once, I don’t want to be right.”

She had widened her beautiful eyes at his words. Giving him a comforting smile, she had consoled him.

“If you’re right, then its best to free yourself from this mess. Toxic relationships can really hamper one’s mental peace. Besides, you’re the smart one, you’ll figure it out. I’m sure!”

That’s why he was where he is right now. He had seated himself on the couch, waiting for you to come home from work. He had a plan in mind; a plan that would seal his fate.

He heard the keys jingling outside the door, signalling your arrival. He patiently waited for you to open the door and step inside, watching you as you discarded your coat on the rack and tossed the keys in the key holder by the door. You rolled your shoulders to release the pent-up tension and raked your fingers through your hair. You stepped in, oblivious of his gaze or presence.

“Welcome home.”

His voice stunned you for a second, and you jumped slightly.

“Oh my, Ranpo, you really scared me!”

You exclaimed, walking over to him to peck his cheek, and seating yourself opposite to him.

“What are you doing home?”

“Can’t I be at my own house?”, he cross questioned, crossing his arms.

You were taken aback by his aggressive tone and raised a brow.

“Of course, you can. What’s gotten into you?”

He sighed, looking away from your gaze. He had to stay in character.

“I just... I’m a bit worked up, that’s all.”

“What’s wrong, love?”

You shifted in your seat, leaning forward to look more concerned.

“I lost my job. They say that I’m not good enough, anymore. We’ll have to survive with our savings and your salary.”

You were baffled.

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

You scoffed, slumping back into the cushion of your seat.

“But you’re the best at what you do, they can’t just fire you like that!”

He sat silently, observing your turmoil.

“That’s impossible. They can’t just do that. What about all the work you’ve done for them? All the cases you’ve solved, all those hours that you’ve put in; they can’t do this to you!”

“They can, and they did.”

You stood up and began pacing in the hall. Your mind was filled with questions. Your main worry was, ‘Was my effort worthless? Will I have to breakup with him? If he isn’t who he was before, then is there any point in being with him? Was all that perfect play, all those stupid nights when I had to run down to the store to get him fucking ice-cream, or when I had to laugh along to his pathetic jokes, do the laundry, the dishes, treat him like a fucking child; was all that for naught?’

Your mental trauma was too much for you. You were breathing heavily, and your mind was clogged with worries. You were so out of it, that you failed to realise that you’d spoken your worries out loud.

When you heard your own voice echo back in your ears, you gasped, placing a palm on your mouth. Looking over at Ranpo, you widened your eyes at his expression.

“Fuck, Ranpo, I didn’t mean it! I was just worried about how we’re going to manage the expenses, and I-”

“Please just pretend to love me.”

He whispered. His tears threatened to spill. His emerald orbs shone with unshed tears as he clenched his teeth, glaring at you.

“I knew you were in it only for the fame and money. I fucking knew it, yet I stayed. I decided to stay because I had honestly fallen in love with you. I knew that my friends were right about you. Dazai had warned be before we became serious; he had tried to tell me to break it off with you; he had tried to forewarn me, but I didn’t listen to him, because I was so fucking lost in this puppet show, that I had started loving it. I should have listened to him and left you, you shallow hearted bitch!”

You just stood stunned at his words. He had ever even raised his voice at you before. This was so unexpected.

“I haven’t lost my job, Y/N. this was a test to see if you’re actually into this relationship, and guess what, you failed miserably.”

You just stood there, processing his words. So, he hadn’t lost his job? All is not for naught?

Laughing, you shook your head.

“You and your stupid games, Ranpo. I swear I can’t keep up with your pranks!”

“This isn’t a prank, I’m serious- ”

“Gosh, you had me scared for a moment there. This is all your friend’s doing. What’s his name again? Dazai? Yeah, he did this. And you fell right into his little trap! He made you hate me, but you don’t hate me, do you? You love me.”

“Don’t blame my friends. Honestly, how shallow can you get?!”

He chuckled bitterly.

“Get out. Right now.”

You just stared at him, dumbfounded.

“But love- ”

“Out! Now! Get out of my fucking sight!”

You nodded, understanding. He was too smart to be fooled anymore. Picking up your coat, you left the house.

Ranpo watched you leave, and slumped to the floor, on his knees. He had just lost the one person who had managed to make him feel loved. That night, he cried his heart out.

Jsksks I hope u liked it @kovzumee ! lemme know what u think, n if u didn't want this, feel free to req again♡

[izzabeean]

Chapter 7 : Bad Luck

SUMMARY

Sunday morning starts off with a surprise, and it just keeps getting better.

pairing : ushjima x f!reader / oikawa x f!reader / iwaizumi x f!reader

genre : angst + fluff

word count : 3,984

content : profanity, slightly suggested nsfw

tags :  alternate universe - college/university, post-break up, friends to lovers, pining, slow burn

a/n : this chapter was supposed to be a bit longer, but I decided to cut it shorter. I've decided to have the rest at the beginning of next chapter. I hope you enjoy!!

Post Thursday evenings PST, if not latest by Friday.

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If your life didn’t hit rock bottom before, it most definitely did now.

It’s the fact you were thrown into absolute chaos first thing Sunday morning. It’s spending hours scrambling to move furniture to a dry place. It’s swiftly securing as many of your belongings as while trying to contain the severe agony coursing through you. Although the flood was very shallow, only damaging the floor and the bottom portion of the wall, which you’re thankful for, it really solidified the kind of luck you were having: everything you touched lately, seemed to fall apart. In fact, you were just ready to disappear at this point.

Your head is spinning as you sit on the steps of the apartment complex with your face buried in your hands, refusing to cry even if you really, really wanted to.

You peer up at Oikawa whose back is to you making a phone call. Thankfully he was there to respond when your first reaction was to freak out and call your parents, who (of course) were away on vacation. The way he jumped at the chance to quickly gather your stuff out of the apartment. The way he told you to get a hold of your landlord to notify them about the flood. The way he felt like he had everything under control.

But here you were, devastated, unable to function. Just frozen.

Hanging up the call, he walks back over to you. “Iwa-chan is going to be here with his car to pick up your things,” Oikawa says, almost breathless at the sight of the distressing aura protruding off you. “Did you get a hold of your parents?”

“No,” you utter, trying to pretend you’re not on the verge of a meltdown. “But I have a key to their place, so we can stash my stuff there.”

“Great! It might take a couple trips, but it will be fine,” he assures watching you grow more and more despondent.  “At least your choice of decor is minimalist or we’d be at this all day,” he teases trying to lighten the mood.

You pause furrowing your brow, unable to even look at Oikawa. It’s a joke, obviously, but it feels backhanded. And you do what you do best, stay silent.

Oikawa sighs and sits beside you on the staircase. “Y/N, it’s alright this happens to a lot of people.”

And then you feel your eyes starting to tear up. Fuck, you can’t let him see you like this. So much has already happened and now is not the time to completely come undone before him. Taking a deep breath you turn to Oikawa.

“Yeah, you’re right,” you smile. It doesn’t feel genuine but you force it.

He knows, despite your reply, that you’re very frustrated. Looking down at your hands placed on your lap, he has this sudden urge to grab hold of them and tell you he’s here to help. He knows a lot has happened, and all he wanted to do was reassure you things were going to be okay… Eventually.

“What?” you ask.

It takes him a minute to realize that you catch him staring. When he does, he gives you a wry look, hiding the fact that he is visibly concerned about you. He turns his head just a fraction, narrowing his eyes on your cheek. “You have something on your face,” he lies.

You glower at him suspiciously, turning away from him as you wipe your cheek on your sleeve. If you had the energy to do so, you probably would have yelled at Oikawa for messing with you. But no, you couldn’t take your frustration out on him, he doesn’t deserve that shit. Of course, it’s not his fault all these different mishaps keep happening to you. He’s been everything but patient lately, the least you could do was try to tolerate his childishness more than usual.

“Y/N!”

You snap your head behind you to see an older lady standing at the top of the staircase looking down at you.

“Ito-san. Good morning,” you greet while standing up to give a little bow.

Ito-san is your neighbor from a couple of apartments down. You have an acquaintance kind of relationship, one where you help carry groceries whenever you’ve bumped into her on the way up to her apartment. The most you know about each other is just through small talk like she lives alone and is retired, spending most of her days trying to pick up new hobbies; there’s a new one each month.

She walks further down the steps meeting your gaze on ground level. “I heard about your apartment,” she says while eyeing up Oikawa. “Luckily your boyfriend was here to help out.”

“Oh, he’s not my boyfriend,” you answer.

“Don’t be modest dear. Here,” she says, holding out a car key.

“Ah, Ito-san, you don’t have--”

“Of course I do,” she replies with a smile, placing the key in your hands. “For all that you do for me, I insist.”

“Thank you,” Oikawa chirps, giving Ito a deep bow to which you follow.

“Get your things somewhere safe. Good luck!” she says with a wave walking back up the stairs.

Turning to Oikawa, your face pales, “Tōru, I can’t.”

“Huh?” Is all he replies.

You begin to shake as the stress surges through your body. Had you given quicker at a response, you might have declined the offer. “I don’t know how to drive.”

Oikawa blinks then bursts out laughing while snatching the keys out of your hand. “So you need my help, again,” he teases with a smirk.

“Yes,” you sigh full of irritation. If you knew he was going to act this way, you would’ve asked him to leave and you could figure things out on your own. But before you could, a honk echoes from the loading zone in front of the apartment complex. And it’s Iwaizumi.

Trying to push down the feeling of excitement you feel when you see him step out of the vehicle, he straightens up peering at you with a radiant expression. Your eyes suddenly brighten while the corners of your mouth curl into a smile. He shoves his hands into his pockets and walks toward you.

“How’s the wrist?” Iwaizumi asks, looking into your eyes with a warm reassuring gaze.

“It’s fine,” you reassured, rotating it in a circle proving that it’s fully functional.

“Oikawa and I will move your stuff,” he instructs. As you’re about to challenge him on his plans, he cuts you off, “Unless you’re planning on injuring your wrist more, you're not allowed to help.”

You frown slightly at his stony remark, but you’re still happy to see him, beyond belief. Biting the inside of your cheek, you watch Oikawa lead Iwaizumi to your apartment. It’s so pathetic that you always need to rely on someone to come to your rescue. How could you stoop to this level? What happened before you met Ushijima? Were you always this reliant on others?

------

“Good morning!” Ushijima greets while walking into the classroom.

“Good morning,” you respond, checking out your boyfriend dressed in his joggers and hoodie. Even though it's not the most stylish attire, you still thought he looked so good in them as you could see the outline of his strong, muscular build (plus, his casual outfits warded away unwanted attention from girls and you were fine with that). “Did you get the assignment done?”

Ushijima stares at you blankly, “What assignment?”

“I texted you last night to remind you!” you explain exasperated at his inattentive behavior.

Ushijima whips his phone out of his pocket, staring intently at it. Suddenly the sound of the device turning on rings and his face lights up.  “I got it.”

“Just now?” you shriek, gaining the attention of other students in the room.

“When is it due?” he asks nonchalantly, as the blood in your veins starts to boil.

“Today!”

“Oh,” Ushijima eyes you stoically, then kisses you on the cheek. “Thank you for reminding me.”

You clasp your cheek while looking at him and your face grows hot from the act. “N-no problem.”

“Can I copy off--”

“No!” you scold.

------

“Y/N?”

Iwaizumi’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

“Sorry, did you say something?” you ask, sitting in the passenger seat beside Iwaizumi.

The morning chaos wears on into the afternoon as you drive to your parent's place with Oikawa following in Ito-san’s car behind you. Fortunately, the drive is only thirty minutes out of the city, you didn’t want to take more time out of Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s day. You feel guilty.

“Yeah…” Iwaizumi replies. “So, uh- how do you know Oikawa?”

“Um, first year of university,” you exclaim. “It was pouring rain after classes and I was waiting for it to stop.”

“Did Oikawa use one of his shitty pickup lines?”

“More like his smug remarks,” you giggle. “It’s been like… Four years? Oh my god, how have I dealt with him for that long?”

“Four years is nothing compared to the fifteen I’ve known him,” Iwaizumi grins.

“Fifteen?” you gasp as your jaw drops. “How many years has he taken off you?”

“More than I’d want,” he laughs.

You eye him carefully when he responds. It’s the first time you’ve seen Iwaizumi laugh since you’ve met him. And truthfully, it was alluring, something you’d hope to see again soon.

“He’s a good guy though,” he adds.

But not as good as you, you think. Your heart stumbles over its own rhythm as part of your brain screams at you to continue the conversation, seeing this is the only opportunity you have ever been alone with Iwaizumi.  You try to take a look at him in your peripheral, noticing his muscular arms flexing underneath his t-shirt as his strong hands grip the wheel. The same hands that guided you away from the alley to the restaurant, were now helping you again.

Did you even thank him? You doubt you had the chance in your drunken state. To be honest, you were quite embarrassed that that was his first full impression of you. You can’t believe you had the audacity to get to that point of intoxication. It hurts your head just thinking about it.

“Oh, just a left at the next turn,” you indicate. “It’s not much further from here.”

Upon arriving at your parent's place, you instruct Iwaizumi to park in front of the double car garage to which Oikawa pulls up beside. Unbuckling your seatbelt, you slide out of the car.

“Wow Y/N,” Oikawa breathes looking up at the bigger than the average house. “You never told me your parents are rich?”

“Let me unlock it,” you instruct, ignoring Oikawa. “We will unload everything into the garage.”

As you rush off, Oikawa whistles observing the two-story house taking up two lots worth of houses. “This is where she grew up?” he assumes. “Wow.”

Iwaizumi gazes at the contemporary styled home. He recalls when he heard you moved from the suburbs closer to the city and now he understood as to why.

The sound of the garage door opening startles them both as they quickly gain composure to start unloading the furniture. You let out a deep sigh, not quite ecstatic both men are at your childhood home. Not because you’re embarrassed, but because of all the questions that are followed up like what do your parents do for a living or why didn’t you tell me you had such a big house?

Oikawa and Iwaizumi diligently manage to fill the garage with your stuff. You wanted to help but only received scolding from Iwaizumi when you even lifted a finger. But in no time, the task was complete.

“Is that it?” you ask as Iwaizumi nods in compliance. “Okay, wait outside and I’ll lock up.”

But before you even get a reply, you notice Oikawa is missing and the door leading into the house from the garage is open.

“What the fuck Tōru!” you yell walking into the main part of the house in search of the annoying troublemaker. Iwaizumi follows behind, looking at the high-ceiling living space that leads into a kitchen. He’s never seen anything remotely like this before.

Oikawa pokes out from a room on the side, “Y/N, why have you never invited me over?”

“Oikawa let's go!” you snap.

“Oooh, using my last name, somebody’s pissed,” he taunts, sending you a shit-eating smile. “I’m going to look for Y/N-chans room!”

“No! Don’t!” you screech, and he laughs while running up the stairs. That stupid laugh. It can get on your nerves but you don’t have the strength to run after him. “Fine, he can do what he wants.”

You turn back to the living room and let your eyes roam around. It’s a lot different than you last remembered with a more modern take on traditional Japanese houses. There’s neutral furniture with a very minimalistic feel, almost a cold feeling.

“They’ve changed it a lot since I’ve been last here,” you whisper.

Iwaizumi looks at a picture of you and your parents mounted on the wall; your graduation photo from high school. You look good.

“So, uh, how's your wrist?" he asks.

"It's alright," you smile. "A little swollen."

"Want me to wrap it up for you when we get back?"

"Uh, sure," you reply. “Actually, I’m sure there’s some first aid supplies around here.”

He follows you down a hall into a small bathroom. He lingers in the doorway watching you open the cabinets in search of something he can use to wrap up your wrist. By some luck, you take out an elastic bandage and present it to him. “Does this work?”

He nods, taking the bandage, and holds out his hand, “Let’s see it.”

You pause before rolling up your sleeve to show the damage which is now a tinge of dark purple and red. He doesn't react though, he keeps a straight face while maintaining calm upon analyzing the bruised area. Taking your hand into his, your face grows hot, his hands are warm, the perfect temperature, making your entire body tingle. Slowly you trace your eyes back up to his face, his eyes narrow as he tucks the bandage up and around the wrist then pulls to tighten it. The gesture makes you shutter causing him to stop.

“Is it too tight?” he asks, scanning for any pain in your face

“A bit,” you squeak.

Iwaizumi loosens the bandage a bit to rewrap it again. This time he’s gentler, drawing the bandage around the wrist then wrapping across your hand and palm with a soft tug; still firm, but not quite tight.

“That should help decrease bruising,” he says, cutting the bandage and securing it with a pin.

“Thanks,” you mutter, holding your hand out to inspect it. “How do you know this stuff?”

“I’m majoring in sports sciences,” he answers.

“Woah, that’s so cool!” you smile while putting the bandages away as he continues to linger in the bathroom. “How many years do you have left?

“This is my last semester--”

“Y/N-chan! Your room is boring,” Oikawa interrupts pouting. “I couldn’t find anything embarrassing.”

“Why are you looking for that kind of stuff, Shitty-kawa!” you groan.

Iwaizumi laughs at the nickname and you have to stop yourself from smiling too hard from the sound.

“Okay, the tour is over. Let’s go!” you exclaim, pushing them towards the front door.

------

Stepping into the Oikawa’s apartment, you didn’t think you’d ever get back so soon; from driving back into the city, to dropping off Ito-san’s car and keys to finding out more information from your landlord of what’s going on. You were exhausted. Absolutely over today.

“Why do you have so much stuff,” Oikawa whines while setting your bags down in the foyer.

Maybe you should have stayed with your parents, then you wouldn’t have to deal with seeing Oikawa 24/7, but by public transit, their place was too far away and you really didn’t want to say no to Oikawa after he insisted that you bunk at his place. Plus you couldn’t agree more if Iwaizumi was going to be there.

“Stop complaining!” Iwaizumi scolds who has two of your bags in his hands. Again, he refused to let you carry anything to avoid putting any more strain on your wrist. But you didn’t mind because the sight of him carrying your bags for you makes you swoon.

“That’s not nice Iwa-chan,” Oikawa cries while closing the door then turns to you. “You can take my room until you move back in.”

“What? No, I can’t--” you begin.

“It’s either that or we share a bed,” Oikawa smirks.

“Uh, no.”

He snickers at your reply as you shuffle off to his room to put your stuff away. You blinked in surprise, almost startled by the fact how surprisingly tidy his room is. Reality sinks in as you walk up to the window looking outside to the new view of a courtyard between two apartment buildings. You’d be staying here for who knows how long and it sort of worries you. You’ve never had roommates before, the last thing you wanted was to annoy the shit out of your only friend and his hot friend.

“You good?” Oikawa’s voice scares you, to which you jump and gasp for air.

“Don’t do that!”

“Ok, well, it is my room, I just came in here to grab my things to take a shower,” he adds. To his credit, he doesn’t even look tired after such a long day. “Want to go to the library after?”

“Sure I have some assignments I need to get started on.”

“Cool!” Oikawa smiled, turning to head to the bathroom. “Also, no peeking!”

You send him a growl as he scurries away.

You exhale a deep sigh while collapsing on Oikawa’s bed feeling subtle hints of the hangover but trying to repress it with a huff. Whilst contemplating what the hell you’re going to do for a week at Oikawa’s, you feel yourself drift off...

You take a peek into the crowded classroom. A bunch of students are grouped in their cliques, chatting and laughing. You sigh, not able to recognize anyone you know. Your hands start to sweat as you hold your laptop tighter to your chest.

"It's alright. Just take it easy, everything will be fine," you mutter in an attempt to hype yourself up.

You walk into the massive lecture hall hugging the wall closest to the door to make your way up the stairs. About midway through, you glance down the row of desks and spy a seat available off to the center.

As you approach your seat, you notice someone's coat laying on the floor.

"Oh, you dropped your coat," you note, picking it up off the floor and carefully draping it back over their chair.

You glance down at the person. A young man about your age stares at you with wide stunning eyes. His hair swept to the side, slightly spiked with a tawny hue and his complexion was glowing appearing fresh and radiant.

Initially, his aura exudes kind and pure, until the mood in his eyes shifts, painting a mysterious narrative, bubbling with a playful and coy kind of hunger.

“Thanks,” he purrs.

You awkwardly smile at him and go to sit a couple of seats down from him. Just as you take your spot, the professor enters the room addressing the start of class. You look back at the brunette who looks oddly familiar, almost like Oikawa.

And it is, but he's sitting next to you with heavy lustful eyes.

Suddenly you aren't in your lecture hall anymore but in the campus library.

You're sitting at a desk, merely inches away from each other. You feel his leg lightly brush against yours. A tingling sensation jolts through your body as his touch lingers. The heat of his body warms up your exposed skin.

Oikawa leans in. "I notice you've been staring," he whispers.

His words make your insides melt at the firmness of his tone. And your heart pumps faster as he gently touches your leg with his hand. You can feel his breath on the shell of your ear as he places his hand behind your head, tangling his fingers in your hair.

You start to tense up as he pulls away, with a smirk tugging at the side of his mouth.

"Do you want me?" His voice dropped to a low growl, sliding his hand up your leg.

You wake up startled, gasping for air.

What was that, you think, trying to process what has just happened. You feel a pit in your stomach grow by the second as this disoriented sensation swirls in your head. Then there’s a beat. You hold your head as the temples start to throb and the headache you’ve been waiting for rushes in so fast you couldn’t even feel it approaching.

Taking a look around, you were still in Oikawa’s room.

What the fuck.

Honestly, in all your years of friendship, you’ve never counted on having that sort of dream starring Oikawa. In theory, you had plenty of opportunities to, but why now? Something about it was strangely arousing, but you couldn’t believe you had admitted that to yourself… Oikawa is your friend.

You notice through the half-opened blinds the daylight fading low as the glow between evening and day paints the room orange. You wonder how long you’d be asleep and quickly get up realizing the day is nearly done.

Walking out, you are face to face with Iwaizumi who’s about to walk down the hallway. You let out a little yelp and clasp your chest catching your breath. The sudden excitement surprises him and he nervously laughs in response while rubbing the back of his neck.

“H-how long was I asleep?” you stumble on your words trying to process what to say.

“Not long…”

The air is filled with silence and awkwardness. Somewhere between comfortable and uncomfortable, you stand in each other's presence waiting for someone to speak first. Your eyes are groggy still from your nap and you’ve accepted your mind will be hazy but didn’t feel the need to go back and rest. The dream already spooked you enough and preferred to avoid a sequel.

“Do you know where Oikawa went?” you ask, the only appropriate topic that comes to mind.

“I think he went to the library,” he answers, walking down the hall to his room.

“Oh…”

You wanted to say something more, you felt in debt to him, even Oikawa. But mostly Iwaizumi. For saving you from the creep last night, helping you with your apartment, and even wrapping your wrist today. You wish you could do anything to repay him but didn’t quite know how…

Unless.

“Hey, so,” you call Iwaizumi who stops to look at you. His gaze is soft and you feel like your heart is going to stop. “Where’s the nearest grocery store?”

“Oh, it’s not far from here. Why? Did you need something?”

“Kind of,” you look down at your feet, unable to look at how handsome he is. “I was just thinking of making you guys something… As thanks, you know. For everything.”

Iwaizumi blinks at your response. Your cheeks felt like they were heating up as you feel his prolonged stare.

“I’ll get my coat,” he says, walking past you.

“Oh, you don’t have to come with,” you plead, following behind him to the foyer.

“Well, who else is going to protect you if a creep shows up again?” he teases.

You give him a smug smile at his words. Are we joking about this now? Well, it doesn’t matter because you would quite enjoy his company anyway. Besides, you were happy to spend more time with him.

[buckyownsmylife]

between us - final chapter

The one where Aaron hurts you, but he knows just how to heal you.

When Hotch comes home one day and takes out his frustrations on you, you’re sent spiraling into a depressive state that you were all too familiarized with. But as your boss and closest friend, he’s the only one who knows how to take care of you during a relapse. His efforts to fix the situation end up awakening a different side of him, a side that might just be precisely what you’ve been missing in a time like that.

for general warnings and author’s notes, please go to the fic’s masterlist. PLEASE CHECK THEM.

A/N for this chapter: we’ve reached the end, you guys! I don’t know if I’m ever writing for Hotch again, since I don’t really think anyone even read this series, but sharing it with the world was very important to me, since the whole story was so personal. If you do end up reading it and reaching the final chapter, I hope it resonated with you somehow. Thanks for reading!

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Three months passed in the blink of an eye and the well I had hid in for so long was nowhere to be found. Between Penelope’s ever-present banter, Rossi’s pasta nights and overall, the support of my friends - that made the BAU seem more like a family than a job - I was feeling better than I had felt in years.

But of course, most of my progress was to be thanked to a certain SSA Aaron Hotchner - and Jack had a big part in it, too. Both had welcomed me not only into their home, but into their lives, to a point where it was hard to remember what Friday nights used to look like away from them, without pizzas and Disney movies. I never went back to living in my apartment. Aaron never mentioned it, and apart from the two visits we had made right after I moved in with them, to gather more of my clothing I’d left behind, I hadn’t even been there in a while.

In fact, I had been gathering the courage to talk about it with my boyfriend for the last week or so. I knew we’d need to have this conversation eventually, and when the opportunity arose via us wrapping up a case that was supposed to last all weekend, leaving Jack with his aunt while we could have the house to ourselves, I knew it was now or never.

“I still can’t believe we were able to solve this before Sunday,” Aaron said, that cute tiny smile on his lips as he opened the door to his house.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “It still feels weird not going to pick Jack up, though.” My boyfriend nodded, turning around to face him after he’d dropped his briefcase over the sofa.

“I know. But it’s already too late to wake him and Jessica up just to bring him home. We’ll get him in the morning.” I nodded, mostly because this was perfect for my intentions for the evening, but still, I missed the little guy.

“Aaron,” I started when he opened the fridge in search of something we could eat. He hummed to let me know he was listening, but despite the fact that I wanted to start talking while he was otherwise occupied with other stuff, just so I wouldn’t have to deal with the added weight of his impenetrable eyes on my figure, the words didn’t leave my mouth fast enough. Obviously, he took notice, which only made him immediately turn around to look at me, where I was sitting by the breakfast table, trying not to look incredibly guilty as I met his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” It was hard not to giggle at how quickly he went into dad mode at the prospect of any trouble. It helped to clear the air and release some of the tension I had accumulated in my body.

“Nothing’s wrong, silly. I just have something I need to talk to you about.” He nodded, opting to reheat some leftover pasta I had made a few nights before we left over trying to create something from scratch this late in the evening.

“Tell me.” He was stirring the pot where the pasta had been deposited as he waited for me to begin, but I knew his concentration was completely focused on me. I had to recognize how incredible he was, not only as a boyfriend, but also as a profiler. It was clear that he was aware of how much easier it would be for me to open up if he had the premise of another task in his mind, keeping his eyes away from me.

“My landlord called me this week.” And there it went. All pretense was suddenly dropped as his head immediately whipped up to stare at me with a frown on his handsome face, clenching the pot with much more strength than it was really necessary.. “My lease is about to end, I have to sign the renewal soon. I figured it’s the perfect time to talk about me returning to my apartment.” 

At first, he didn’t say anything, simply stared back at me with unreadable eyes. And then we smelled something funny. “Oh my God, Aaron, stir the pot and lower the heat!” I directed after finally realising what was going on. I jumped out of the chair to help him, but by the time I had made my way around the counter and inside the kitchen, the situation had been diffused and the pasta was done. “Is it still edible?” I joked, peering up from his side to check if there was still some salvaged part of the food, but it looked mostly alright. Maybe only the bottom part was burnt. 

He didn’t answer me, not even offering a chuckle to lighten up the mood. But he did plate up the now warm pasta, picking up both dishes and walking to the table without a single glance at me. It was clear he was deep in his thoughts, so I figured it’d be best to allow him time to get to any conclusions he might reach by himself, opting to simply follow him and take my place where he laid my plate, silently starting to eat while keeping an eye on him. 

It was only after my second bite of food that he said something, and it wasn’t what I was expecting to hear.

“Aren’t you happy here?” The question caught me so by surprise that I dropped my fork against the plate, immediately flinching from the loud sound that echoed around the empty living room in the middle of the night.

“Of course I am, Aaron.” I didn’t understand how he could for even a minute doubt that. Didn’t he see how much better I was? How he had managed to help me get back to normal? 

“Then why do you want to leave?” If the other question took me by surprise, this one completely astounded me. I couldn’t even offer an immediate answer, because I was in no way prepared for it. 

Finally, I settled for, “I never said I wanted to leave, honey. It’s just that I figured it’s a natural evolution for our situation. I’m better now, and I have my own apartment. Why should I stay here?” It was like he had barely heard me, by the way he immediately countered my question with one of his own.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“Well, do you want to?” She looked lost, her mouth opening a few times before she settled on what she wanted to say. 

“Want to what?” She looked so confused, fidgeting with the edge of her skirt while she bit her lip. I had to lean down and deposit a quick kiss on her mouth, not only because I always wanted to kiss her, but also because I knew it helped her relax. When I saw her shoulders relax, I covered her hands with mine, pulling them up on the table so I could keep holding them more comfortably.

“Do you want to stay here?” I finally clarified, watching attentively for her reactions. At first, she looked surprised, her mouth falling open and her eyes widening at my question, but in seconds she gathered her thoughts and bit her lips, avoiding my eyes before nodding, a sheepish smile on her lips.

A huge grin immediately appeared on my face, as I watched her come to senses with what I had just asked. When she finally found enough courage in herself to look up at me again, I threw myself at her, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been this happy. Watching Y/N come back to her natural state was already relieving, as it was to have her around all the time, especially when it came to help me take care of Jack, but to know that she wanted to be here indefinitely, that she had agreed to live with us? I was over the moon.

When we separated to catch our breaths, she was flushed again, and it was clear she was trying very hard to keep her eyes on mine.

“What?” I asked, certain I had a goofy smile on my face. She bit her lip once more, making me groan. “Stop that, pretty girl,” I teased, pulling her bottom lip from its confine. She rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. “Now tell, me, what is it that you want?”

The atmosphere of the room had changed, it was clear now. Whereas it had felt cold only a few minutes ago, when I thought she wanted to leave me, it felt absurdly hot out of nowhere, and I had half a mind to rip her dress off of her. So when she answered me with a soft, “You,” I knew exactly what she meant.

I immediately stood up from my chair, reaching out to help her leave hers too, but instead of walking hand in hand towards our room - it was our room, now, I reminded myself with a smile - I couldn’t deal with the prospect of spending another second separated from her skin, so I took her in my embrace, kissing her in celebration of the next steps in our relationship we were taking together, tonight.

We made out like two teenagers right there, in the middle of my living room, and when the fire that was growing inside of me rose up to my head, I found myself pulling on her dress and taking it off her body, not caring to notice where it ended up. The second her skin became available to me, I lost the last of the control I was still trying to keep, and pulled her by her ass to wrap her legs around me so I could at least take her to our bedroom before I had my way with her, like I’d been dreaming to do for so long.

 Y/N’s P.O.V.

As soon as Aaron carefully laid me down on his bed I was already sitting up, reaching for his shirt. I’d been dreaming about this for so long, long before he ever showed any interest in me. Of course, back then it made me embarrassed - I never thought I’d be the girl with a crush on her boss - but after we came clear about our feelings, the only reason why I didn’t immediately jump his bones was because he wanted to wait for me to get better. And which person wouldn’t melt with that?

Only now that waiting time was over, I couldn’t get him undressed fast enough. It was nice to see him with a teasing smile, looking down at me with that mischievous glint in his eye as he realized just how much I wanted him, when in our day-to-day life outside this house he was always so serious.

“Someone’s eager,” he jested, and I stuck my tongue out at him.

“I expected you to be too, or should I be worried about you not being attracted to me?” The question was made in all good humour, but Aaron clearly did not appreciate it. His smile immediately dropped, and before I could say anything to make it better, he was crawling up on the bed, making himself at home between my legs.

“Don’t even joke about this,” he whispered, dark eyes studying mine just like he did whenever we were alone before he captured my lips in a deep kiss that was equal parts possession and affection. “Do you feel this?” He pressed himself against me, and I could feel exactly what he was referring to. “I’m always so hard around you, sweetheart. You have no idea how difficult it has been to live with you and not be able to touch you like I’ve been dreaming of.”

His words made me whine, clutching his back so he’d lay more of his weight on me. For someone who was as quiet as Aaron usually was, I wasn’t expecting him to be so comfortable in sharing his desires with me, but it only made me appreciate it even more.

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? And you’re not doing a good job of taking advantage of this opportunity at all.” He smirked teasingly at me, getting out of the bed to take off his clothes until all he had on was his boxers. Then he was back between my legs, pressing his hardness against me with even more fervor as he devoured my lips once more.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

“I’ll show you how well I can take advantage of you, little girl.” She whined once more, making me chuckle as I slowly left her lips to continue pressing kisses on her jaw, until I was sucking on her pulse point, marking her as mine. I’d never been one for leaving bruises before, too worried about the consequences came the morning time, but in that moment I’d damn all the consequences just to have her, own her, make sure she’d never forget how it felt to be together like this for the first time. 

I didn’t want to have to learn how to be without her again. She was a part of me now, a part of my life and I liked it better with her around. I liked me better with her around. So I made sure to make the most out of this opportunity, when I finally had her exactly where I wanted, to imprint her taste in my mouth, memorize the smell of her skin. 

As I kissed every inch of skin my lips could meet, she danced underneath me, desperately trying to create some friction between us, in that wet heat I could hardly wait to encounter again. So I granted it to her, rubbing my clothed cock on her pussy as hard as I could while ripping off her bra, exposing her beautiful breasts to me for the first time. 

My mouth watered at the sight, and I immediately enclosed one pebbled nipple with my lips, circling it with my tongue before sucking on it lightly. At her pleased gasp, accompanied by one of her hands, which she tangled in my hair, I doubled my efforts, sucking a bit harder, until I heard her moaning sweetly above me.

The sound went straight to my crotch, and I lifted myself off one breast to stare up at her, take in the beauty that was seeing her like this, slightly out of breath, her lips bruised from my nibbling. 

“You’re perfect,” I let her know, and when she smiled I leaned down to give the other breast the same treatment. God, she tasted sweet. If her skin was this delicious, I could only imagine how delightful it would be to bury my face in between her thighs, drinking in her essence.

But I wouldn’t have to imagine it much longer. Slowly, determined to kiss each inch of skin along the way, I created a pathway of kisses and bruises down her stomach, appreciating the shiver that went up her spine at the feeling of my nose caressing her lower belly. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” I insisted in reminding her, knowing how hard it was for her to believe me - or anyone else - when it came to her qualities, but she needed to learn about her own beauty. I’d teach her to recognize it.

“Aaron, please…” Now, I’d heard a lot of sexy things in my life - most of them from her own lips, ever since we’d started dating - but nothing had ever come near the sound of her begging me to give her some release. It made me lose my infamous control, it turned me into that same man I’d become when I had her over my lap, writhing with the need to feel my touch on her skin.

“That’s not how you call me, is it, sweetheart?” I asked, looking up at her from my spot between her thighs, while I sensuously kissed the soft skin there. Her eyes sparkled with understanding, and while she tried to control the instinctual need to raise her hips to try and get me to touch her where she really needed, she finally said the words I’d been dying to hear again.

“Please, daddy, I need you.” That was all I needed to plunge into her waiting heat. Just like I’d anticipated, she tasted heavenly. Syrupy sweet and incredibly addicting. I wanted to bathe in her essence, drown in it. 

It didn’t help my animalistic instincts that every swipe of my tongue over her little clit elicited the most musical moans from her perfect lips, which only served to further incentive me to bury my tongue as far as it could go inside of her weeping hole. My nose was the one massaging her nub while I struggled to get every drop of wetness I could collect, further aided by my head’s movements as I enthusiastically moved around, eating her out hungrily.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Aaron was so starved for my cunt that all of a sudden, his hands came up to grab the cheeks of my ass, helping him better angle my body to how he desired to be able to fully appreciate his meal. It was dirty and sinful, but it was exactly what I needed after so many nights dreaming about his touch on me.

I was so wet I could feel it dripping from my lower lips, smearing my thighs and tarnishing the duvet underneath me. It didn’t seem like he minded, though. It was more for him to lap, and I had to grab the covers to try to keep my mind from going insane.

“Daddy…” I moaned, desperate for release as my whole body trembled underneath him. Aaron didn’t even look up, still too busy with my pussy, and I had to say it out loud so I could get his permission. “Wanna cum.”

That made him look up at me, but only his gaze went up to meet mine, his face remaining buried against me, never stopping his incessant licking. “Come on, love. Come for me.” As always, I followed his order without any amount of hesitation.

It wasn’t like I could control it, anyway. My body didn’t belong to me anymore, it was his, his to take, to care for, to love and to deal with, when necessary. And I trusted him to take good care of it.

So far, so good. He finally came up for air as my muscles relaxed, making me fall slack against the sweat-drenched mattress. Kissing his way up my body, he kissed me on the lips with fervor when our lips finally met, his long fingers immediately finding their way inside of my still sensitive cunt. 

“Daddy…” I whined, feeling too raw yet to be able to deal with any part of him inside of me, but he was having none of it. Although he immediately retreated the finger, it was only to slap my pussy so I’d stop trying to close my legs around him, conceding all the access to my body once again. 

As soon as my legs fell open, he was pushing it inside of me again, only this time there were two of them. Despite how wet I was, the thickness was already far more than I was used to, but the stretch felt wonderful, making me feel full like I couldn’t remember ever feeling before.

Over me, I heard Aaron curse, prompting me to open my eyes again (when had I even closed them?) only to find him focused where his fingers were carefully exploring. “You’re so tight, sweetheart. How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

The question made me giggle, knowing he didn’t really need an answer. But the truth was, it’d been over a year. I couldn’t even remember the last time I had sex with my ex, and since it had been a while before we broke up, I knew Aaron would really need the time to prep me up to take him.

Just the memory of how his cock felt underneath me, straining in his trousers when he had me over his lap, had a new wave of wetness flooring from within me. My boyfriend sucked in a breath, clearly hypnotized by the way the added lubricant helped him ease his digits in.

Aaron’s P.O.V.

I was transfixed, completely in love with the way her pussy gripped my fingers every time I pulled them back only to push in again. Although it didn’t help my growing need to repeat the action with my cock, it did fill me with some kind of satisfaction by itself. I was the one doing this to her, I was the one giving her this pleasure. She was creaming around my fingers.

So I kept on my shallow thrusts until I could see it wasn’t enough for her. I saw it in the way she pushed back to meet my digits. I saw it in the whines she was emitting, which only served to make me even harder for her. Finally, she was the one who broke me out of my reverie, downright begging me, “Please, Aaron, please. I wanna cum around your cock. Please.”

Who could possibly deny such a request? I recognized that I was known for my control, but I still had needs, like any person. And right then, all I needed was her. So I pulled away, just enough so that I was able to pull my boxers down and wrap my hand around my member, trying to relieve some of the tension.

The vision before me more than helped. It was better than porn, certainly better than anything my mind could create, seeing Y/N like that, completely naked, heaving and wet because of me.

I knew birth control wasn’t a concern, so I just leaned over her again, rubbing the head of my cock on her clit and appreciating the desperate moan that resonated around the room before I dragged it down and pushed in.

Immediately, the feeling of tightness and warmth made me gasp, and I almost lost my balance and fell on top of her body, but her own hands flew up to hold me by my hips, freezing me in place. She didn’t say anything, but from her whimper, it was clear that she was in pain, so as much as I was trembling with the urge to push all the way inside of her, I breathed deeply and rested my forehead on hers.

“It’s okay, sweetheart. You’re okay. I know it hurts, I’m going slowly, okay? Give you time to get used to it.” She nodded, eyes squeezed shut while I delivered quick kisses all over her face. I tried to pull back slightly and push in only a little bit further, and she seemed to adjust to that, her hands coming around my torso to hug me to her.

“Slowly,” she repeated in a whisper, still not opening her eyes.

“Slowly,” I agreed, kissing her temple and keeping up with the ritual of sliding back and pushing in again, until I was able to bottom out. “Fuck, daddy!” The whiny tone of her voice only added to my arousal, and I exchanged my kisses for little bites all over her neck.

“Does it feel good, baby? Can I move?” I asked, fascinated by the taste of her sweat on my tongue. I wanted to lap it up, just like I had done to her wetness minutes before, but the ache in my groin reminded me there were more pressing urges to be fulfilled now.

“Yes, Yes! Please, move!” That was all I was waiting for to start thrusting in and out of her. It was an incredible feeling. It’d been so long since I’d felt this connected to someone. It felt amazing. She felt amazing. Such a strong feeling of belonging, of true love coursed through my body that all I wanted to do was to kiss the breathing air out of her lungs.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

I held on Aaron’s body like it was my lifeboat, and in many ways, I supposed he was precisely that. He’d been patient when I needed, firm when I desired it and now he was filling me in ways I’d never felt before.

It was such an overwhelming feeling, to be this connected to someone. The thought prompted me to finally open my eyes, only to find his already fixed on mine. “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered, and I felt my heart grow twice its size before I pulled him to meet my lips again.

“So are you,” I mumbled against his mouth, and he chuckled breathlessly, still fucking me deeply against the mattress, prompting me to run my nails over his back, making him curse. Believe me, there was nothing hotter than hearing Aaron Hotcher curse while being balls deep into you.

“I don’t ever want to leave you,” he confessed, and I knew he was referring to the act we were currently partaking in, but I couldn’t help but to run my fingers through his hair, softly responding, “Then don’t.”

The mood suddenly changed, and so did his thrusts. They became slower, but more meaningful, somehow. His forehead fell to mine, his lips but an inch from mine when he answered, “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t.”

I knew we’d still have so much to overcome, so much to fight for, but the fact was that we’d be doing it together. I knew that now, as I felt him move inside of me, bringing me to new heights of pleasure, his hands finding mine and holding them by my side, in bed. This, right here, wouldn’t solve everything, but it brought me a sense of belonging I’d never been able to experience before.

And at the end of the day, I knew that all I wanted was to belong to Aaron for the rest of my life.

[jmnjmnjmn]

Valentine’s Day Special | JK x Reader

Pairing: RomanticBf!Jungkook x CynicalGf!Reader

Keywords: valentine’s day, established relationship, fluff

Warnings: the reader is not Korean but speaks Korean, fluff af, swearing

Word count: around 3,500

This one was kind of rushed since I didn’t have much time to write it 😥 I hope it still is up to the usual standard and you guys enjoy it though!! I definitely did 💝 I really liked the request since much like the OC I’m not a big Valentine’s Day person. Let me know what ou think in the comments and ask tag!!

Request

Masterlist

Gliding across the uneven surface of the ice skating rink Jungkook tried to pinpoint the weird warm feeling brewing deep inside his chest. His neck hurt from twisting it every other second to stare at the girl in a long puffer coat skating hand in hand with two of her friends. He felt his heart skip a beat as he managed to steal a glance at her goddess-like face while she was readjusting her white face mask.

“If I met her during summer would I feel any different?” he wondered, trying to seem subtle in checking out the nameless beauty as she passed him by on the ice. “No, I would be charmed just as hard by her with sweat running down her forehead and a hot breeze blowing through her hair like I am now seeing her in that ridiculously big scarf wrapped around her head,” he chuckled in his head as he scanned the knitted scarf she had on. “She’s just so undeniably beautiful.”

“Fuck-” he gasped as he skated right into the plastic wall surrounding the rink.

Within seconds Jimin was at Jungkook’s side helping him up as he laughed at his friend’s clumsiness. The younger boy waved off his teasing too preoccupied with looking whether his newest crush took notice of his embarrassing fall but to his disappointment, he discovered she was nowhere to be found. Assuming she must have already left he continued to skate with his friend letting the memory of this perfect girl take the backseat in his mind.

-

Answering a text from one of his friends Jungkook kept his eyes glued to the screen of his phone as he walked to the exit door of the skating rink. Holding the device in one hand he ran the other one through his dark locks right before he collided with someone’s back.

A high pitched yelp escaped the girl’s lips as the boy’s tall frame made contact with the back of her puffer coat. The paper cup she was holding tilted in her mitten covered hands spilling all its contents onto the ground.

“Sorry,” Jungkook whined sadly in Korean but quickly corrected himself and repeated the same word in English as he noticed who he just ran into.

“It’s okay,” the unnamed beauty from earlier answered in his native language.

Overwhelmed with the sudden proximity to his mysterious crush he found himself in and the sweet tone of her voice he let the words that came to his mind spew out of his mouth without much thought.

“You speak Korean?” he blurted out.

“Yes,” she groaned, glancing at the puddle of coffee beneath her feet. “And you spilt my drink.”

The boy’s widened eyes travelled down to the remains of the beverage and he immediately felt his cheeks burn as well as his breathing becoming more shallow.

“I’m so sorry,” he muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly as she looked up and into his eyes.

Her vibrant irises shined beautifully in the artificial lighting in the area surrounding the rink. Both having half of their faces hidden under their contrasting in colour face masks they couldn’t see each other’s expressions for which Jungkook was deeply thankful as his jaw dropped lower with every second he spent looking at the girl.

“Let me buy you another one,” he said, gesturing towards the stand Yn got her now gone drink from.

“That’s not what I- you don’t have to,” she stuttered out slightly taken aback by his offer.

“I insist.”

His charming smile spread from his lips to his eyes. Noticing the glimmer of hope and kindness in them Yn decided to take him up on the offer and followed him to the hot beverages stand. After Jungkook put in the order for the coffee refill he couldn’t help himself and started chatting the girl up asking all about her past, present and future, desperate to not only find out anything more about her other than the fact she was breathtakingly beautiful but also get her to give him her number.

-

“What do you want to do on Sunday?”

Jungkook shifted on the bed with his eyes glued to the screen of his phone. Next to him, his girlfriend was frozen in a similar position. Her head was hanging low as she scrolled through her Instagram feed.

The relation between the two was rather new, they’ve only been dating for a little over two months. However, as the mid of February was coming up Jungkook couldn’t stop his mind from coming up with different scenarios on how they’ll spend their first Valentine’s Day together.

Traditionally in Korea, the love focused holidays are gender-specific. February fourteenth was for celebrating boys and the same day of March was for girls. Nevertheless, Jungkook didn’t want to wait another thirty days for a perfect excuse to have an extra romantic and cheesy date with Yn.

“I don’t know,” she murmured playing with one of the strings of her hoodie. “What do you want to do on Sunday?”

The boy smirked, taking her intonation of the words as a prompt. He set his phone down and rested his chin on her shoulder bringing his lips close to her cheek.

“Take you out somewhere fancy and spoil you all day long,” he purred before laying a quick peck on her warm skin.

“I like the sound of that,” Yn chuckled reaching her hand to intertwine with his. “Why Sunday though? Can’t we go out on Friday or something?”

“What- but Sunday is Valentine’s Day,” Jungkook stuttered surprised.

“It’s- oh, I totally forgot about that,” Yn murmured far from sounding anything close to interested.

“You forgot about Valentine’s Day?” the boy scoffed with a soft chuckle as his eyes travelled up and down his girlfriend’s profile. “How?”

“It never held much weight in my mind,” she explained. “I always thought that love should be celebrated every day and not just on some special occasion.”

Amused by the girl’s disinterest in the whole ordeal Jungkook felt a smirk grow across his face. His relationship with Yn was still new and fresh there were still so many things for them to learn about each other and he loved getting to know her.

“Hm,” he hummed.

“What?” she asked, glancing at him briefly.

“Nothing,” he answered her quickly knowing it’ll get a rise out of her.

“What?” she repeated, discarding her phone and turning to face him as they laid on the bed together.

“Nothing,” he said fumbling with her fingers in his hand. “I just think it’s stupid,” he smiled hearing her inhale sharply at his bluntness. “Of course, love should be celebrated every day but Valentine’s is a great excuse to celebrate it extra hard.”

“You must have hit yourself ‘extra hard’ on the head if you think so,” Yn laughed, knocking her index finger on his forehead.

Instead of pushing her hand away like he would if it was one of his Hyungs doing the teasing gesture he grabbed her wrist pulling it up. With one more swift movement of his hips, he was laying on top of the girl. He held her hands above her head as he towered over her with a teasing grin.

“Wait and see. I’ll prepare something so extra hard you’ll start wishing it was Valentine’s Day every day.”

“Is that a threat?” she giggled and he lowered his face to hers making their lips meet in a passionate kiss.

“You’ll have to wait and find out,” he said smiling after their mouths parted.

“I’ll wait but don’t get your hopes up.”

-

“Stay over,” Jungkook purred into his girlfriend’s neck as he hugged her from behind.

Yn stopped in her tracks, her hand already on the doorknob, letting herself enjoy the warmth of his chest against her back. The boy’s hands travelled down the sides of her body before resting right over her stomach.

“I don’t like sleeping with all of your Hyung’s in the apartment,” she giggled as her fingers grazed over the skin on his forearms lazily. “I feel that they don’t approve of it,” she added half-joking.

“They’re fine with it,” he pressed hoping to change her mind. “They just don’t like when we’re being loud,” the girl turned in his arms with the speed of light.

“You said no one heard us!” she whisper-yelled referring to one especially steamy night they spent in the boy’s bedroom a couple of weeks back.

“Namjoon might have heard something,” Jungkook chuckled seeing how startled he managed to make her feel.

“Jungkook!” she hissed trying to push him away but that only made him tighten the clasp of his hands behind her back.

“It’s no big deal,” he said smirking with amusement while Yn rested her forehead against his chest in resignation and utter embarrassment.

“For you, it isn’t,” she murmured, keeping her head hanging low. “I’m never coming over again.”

“I guess we’ll have to hang out at yours then,” the boy proposed before letting go of her to gather the things he might need for the night. “I’m tired and I will not fall asleep without cuddles tonight.”

Yn crossed her arms over her chest. A teasing grin made it’s way onto her pretty face while she watched her boyfriend stuff a pair of sweatpants into his backpack.

“You’re tired and you’re going to take the forty-minute subway ride to mine at” -she checked the time on her phone- “eleven at night?” Jungkook straightened up raising his brow at her.

“Don’t be silly,” he said, wrapping her hand in his and giving her forehead a quick peck. “I’m driving us.”

-

Yn batted her eyelashes lazily as she opened her eyes hearing the sound of a picture being taken. With sleep still fogging up her vision she slowly made out her boyfriend's frame. Jungkook lied on his side facing her with his phone in his hands. He smiled at the smaller version of his girlfriend visible on the screen before him.

“You look so pretty in the morning,” his voice was still a little raspy from just waking up. “I wish you stayed over more often so we could wake up together,” he whined sweetly, pulling on the hem of one of his t-shirts she wore to bed the night before.

“Sorry, babe,” she murmured letting her eyelids fall again. “I’m not going to show my face at the dorms ever again,” Jungkook scoffed out a weak chuckle at the sound of her dramatic statement.

“But your apartment is so far away from the studio,” he complained jokingly, scooting close enough to her so their legs intertwined.

Yn opened her eyes slightly to steal a glance at the boy. His lips were a little chapped, his hair a total mess splattered all over the pillow yet she found him nothing short of breathtakingly handsome. She reached her hand from under the covers and brushed some of the dark locks of his hair back from his face before leaning in and placing a quick peck on his lips.

“Get used to the drive. I refuse to be in the same apartment as Namjoon. It’s too embarrassing,” she said, hoping the slight chuckle in her voice masked the fact she really did feel ashamed that someone heard her and Jungkook going at it.

“Ah, you’re being silly,” her boyfriend sighed, finding her discomfort very amusing. “If anything he’s lucky he heard us-”

“Stop it!” she squealed, punching his shoulder jokingly.

Jungkook broke out in a mixture of laughter and fake cries of pain. He wrapped his arms around the girl pulling her onto his chest as he turned to lay on his back. Forced to face him Yn smiled cheekily before laying a peck on the tip of his nose.

“What do you want for breakfast?” she frowned hearing his question.

“This is my house. I’ll be the one cooking,” Jungkook rolled his eyes with the cutest bunny-like smile plastered across his face.

“But I want to be nice to you,” he groaned.

“Be nice and tell me what you want to eat,” the girl giggled while pushing herself up to straddle his waist.

As she sat up with her hands resting against the boy’s chest she could feel his racing heartbeat. She opened her mouth to joke about it but the words never came out. Her smiling expression was replaced by a slightly surprised one when an alarming smell made its way to her nostrils.

“Is something burning? Jungkook’s eyes widened and he abruptly pushed her off his lap.

Yn yelped falling onto the mattress as her boyfriend cursed loudly already in the other room. She stood up from the bed and when reaching for a hoodie to throw on to cover herself from the cold she noticed a bouquet of white roses set on her vanity in a clear vase. Without much time to investigate the matter, she left the flowers behind and rushed after the boy.

Right as she stepped outside the bedroom she was practically in the kitchen. What agents liked to describe as a cosy open concept apartment Yn prefered to call by its real name - a tiny flat with a closed-off nook for a bedroom and everything else but the bathroom piled onto each other in the only actual room in the place. She cracked open one of the windows to get rid of the smoke that came out in large clouds from the strange-looking device Jungkook was fanning off with both his hands on the kitchen counter.

“What is this?” Yn coughed, waving her hand in front of her face to get rid of the smoke.

The boy shot her an apologetic stare before going back to trying to pry open the toaster-like device. Yn looked around the area confused but her next questions got caught in her throat as she noticed the transformation that her apartment went through when she was still sound asleep.

The low coffee table was set for two. Cut up fruit, whipped cream and other goodies were put out next to the neatly arranged plates. Next to the small TV burned her favourite scented candles and the screen was lit up with the Netflix logo on black background.

“Jungkook? the girl asked, turning back to him. “Jungkook?” she repeated, watching him pick at a burnt waffle with a fork.

“I’m sorry,” he sighed, dropping the utensil into the sink. “I tried. I really did,” he whined tiredly, running one of his hands through his messy hair. “I got you this- this waffle maker,” he chuckled nervously, gesturing to the device on the counter.

As their stares met Jungkook noticed how soft Yn’s eyes seemed. The overwhelming warmth radiating from her loving expression made him relax his tensed up shoulders. He exhaled loudly when she walked up to him, putting his hands in hers and jumped straight into explaining the whole situation.

“It started with our first date,” he said and started recalling the events of that night.

After exchanging numbers in the ice skating rink Jungkook didn’t waste time and texted Yn the same night, asking her out on a date. Pleasantly surprised by his forwardness the girl agreed to see him the following week. The two ended up taking a long walk through the city and doing a cafe marathon, sharing multiple desserts from ice cream, cupcakes and coffee, to waffles. The last ones Yn raved about for a good twenty minutes after eating, praising the taste and the choosing of toppings.

“You said you’d love to have your own waffle maker and eat Nutella waffles at home,” the boy murmured, looking at their intertwined fingers. “So I got you one and wanted to surprise you with a cute ass breakfast but I got distracted and- well, you see what happened,” Jungkook whined dropping his forehead to her shoulder.

He felt defeated and embarrassed but somehow the feeling of her fingers grazing over his knuckles slowly made him feel better. Yn reached one of her hands up running it through the hair on the back of his head. Looking over the boy’s shoulder she noticed the waffle he tried to save earlier.

“Heart-shaped waffle maker?” she whispered with a grin as she eyed the burned dough on the counter.

In response, Jungkook simply groaned and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer. The girl giggled running her hands up and down his back.

“Heart-shaped waffles for breakfast and a bouquet of white roses,” she said shaking her head lightly. “What did I do to deserve this?” 

She felt the boy smiling into her neck before he straightened up to look into her eyes. With his hands resting on her hips and his eyebrow raised teasingly he stared at her for a couple of seconds, waiting for her to put two and two together.

“You know what day it is?” he finally asked, trying to push her thoughts in the right direction.

“Sunday,” she answered with suspicion lining her voice.

“Hypothetically,” -a knowing grin spread across his face gradually- “if I didn’t fail poorly with the breakfast and we were about to sit down to eat perfect heart-shaped waffles and you got a beautiful bouquet of roses from me to start the day and I put on your favourite movie-”

“Didn’t you say that you would rather bite your foot off than watch-”

“Don’t interrupt me,” he shushed her, pursing his lips. “In that hypothetical scenario would your hypothetical self change her mind about the significance of Valentine’s Day?” Yn’s lips parted as if she was about to say something but she couldn’t find the words.

“You sneaky little- you- you didn’t even mention it-” she finally stuttered, smiling at her boyfriend with nothing but endless appreciation in her eyes.

“Would she change her mind?” Jungkook repeated, showing off his teeth in a bright smile.

“I don’t know,” Yn whined teasingly.

“Oh, come on. My hypothetical self tried so hard,” he fired right back.

“If I agree does it mean I’ll have to give you a romantic surprise for White Day?”

“We’re so backwards,” he laughed at her logic.

Fourteenth of March, more commonly called White Day, is a holiday when people give reciprocal gifts to those who gave them gifts received on Valentine's Day. In Korea, the tradition has it that it is first girls gifting chocolates to boys in February and next month it’s the guys’ turn to return the favour.

Yn wrapped her arms around Jungkook’s neck bringing his face to hers. Among the overwhelming smell of burnt waffles, she could also smell vanilla extract that she now tasted on his lips. She smiled realising he must have tasted some of the raw dough while cooking.

“You know that after this I will torment you into making every date so special?” she purred against his lips.

“You won’t have to do a thing, baby,” he answered right back, making her heart flutter.

“Ah, how are you so perfect?”

“I was just born this way,” she rolled her eyes at his comment.

“And you ruined it,” she pushed him away lightly before starting to run away to jump over onto the couch.

“Hey, I was kidding,” he called after her. “Come back and kiss me or at least say my plan worked.”

Yn giggled as Jungkook caught up to her. He snaked his arms around her from behind pulling her in and started peppering her neck with sloppy giggle-filled kisses. The girl twisted in his embrace and pulling on the hem of his t-shirt she placed a brisk kiss on his lips.

“I still think that love should be celebrated every given day but I do like Valentine’s a little better now,” she admitted with a smile.

Seeing the jokingly unsatisfied grin on Jungkook’s face she rolled her eyes again, knowing she’ll have to praise him harder to earn a real smile.

“It worked, alright?” she chuckled, pushing his hair up from his forehead and he leaned into the touch. “It holds a special place in my heart thanks to you.”

The boy ran his gaze across her face feeling just as stunned by her beauty as he did the first day he saw her. His lips curved into a small smile as he tried not to focus on how overwhelmingly lucky he felt thinking about the fact she chose to be with him and him only.

“You know what?” he asked and Yn hummed, raising her brow at him. “Screw Valentine’s. You hold the most special place in my heart.”

[theawkwardterrier]

When in the Depth of Winter

Summary: Peggy notices how the cold troubles Steve and tries to fix it. 

The first part of my Steggy Secret Santa outtakes posting. This one was rejected because it refused to stay as light as I wanted, so take that as you will.

Read on AO3

Something happens to Steve as the temperature begins to drop below freezing. Peggy doesn’t think that anyone else has noticed - when asked if he seems different to her, Angie declares, “Nah, swell - and gorgeous! - as always,” and Bucky points out that just because the current war is a cold one, doesn’t mean that Steve feels he’s through with his responsibilities - but it’s terribly obvious to her. Or perhaps it’s only that no one else is around to see him walk through the house in his warmest socks or take an extra quilt from the linen closet to add to their bed. No one else thinks to notice how odd it is for him to bundle in gloves and a scarf and a hat, even though his core temperature stays consistently high regardless. She seems to be the only one who sees him turn from cheery window displays and tuck himself even quieter and farther inside at the parties they’re invited to.

She asks him about it, of course she does. They’ve been married for a year and had been seeing each other nearly daily for months before then, ever since he’d been recovered from the Valkyrie. There’s no one she trusts as much as she does Steve and she doesn’t think it flattery but mere fact that she holds similar esteem to him. Still, he only frowns and shrugs in response to her questions, says he’s feeling the same as usual, kissing her gently on the temple or crown or mouth and thanking her for worrying about him. And she doesn’t think he’s intentionally lying; sometimes, however, your feelings are buried so deeply that you don’t even recognize them. That doesn’t mean that they aren’t there. That doesn’t mean that there isn’t anything to be done.

Somehow, as if knowing that Peggy has other things to think about and can’t stay in the office until all hours or pop in for emergency sessions on weekends (or perhaps because she isn’t the only one whose family has her focus just now), her agents are closing cases at a top clip and the criminal underworld seems to have settled into some sort of hibernation.

And so Peggy is able to stop at the delicatessen on a Friday and still be home by suppertime.

“It’s the absolute perfect evening,” she says as soon as she comes through the door. “Come for a walk with me.” There’s an excitement to the declaration rather than any martial strictness; after an assessing look at her - this isn’t precisely normal for the two of them - he stands and dons his coat to join her outside.

They live away from the main street and most of their neighbors are already tucked away inside their homes. When they do encounter someone, they exchange nods, but for the most part there is only the soft sound of their boots atop the leftover snow, their exhalations of breath which fog in the air.

Through the larger front windows they can see families eating and couples reading side by side, silhouettes of Christmas trees, and once, a couple sharing a kiss in a dim sitting room. One or the other of them will point out some particularly pretty decorations. It is not late but the winter darkness is so complete that when they step through a streetlight the reality of the brightness is nearly a surprise, a brief dawning which reminds them of how lovely the velvet night can be too.

Pressed close as they are, she feels him shiver as a breeze blows past them. Leaning up, she touches her chilled cheek to his warmer one, both their eyes closed. And without speaking, they turn around and start for home.

Their fireplace has never been used before now, but they light it tonight, sit in front of its bathing warmth to eat the chicken soup that she had brought home, reheated piping hot. They don’t speak much but it is enough, unhurried and peaceful. She can feel him watching her, trying to figure through her intentions, but in the end he seems simply to accept it, leaning back and allowing himself to be thawed.

“What do you think of ice skating?” she asks him as they finish washing the breakfast dishes one Saturday morning.

He gives her an odd glance. “Walking but on ice and with knives strapped to your feet?” he tries.

“Well, I’m sure there’s nothing we have to do today which can’t keep until tomorrow, and I’ve bought you a pair of skates which should fit.”

Steve is her husband, and before that he was her friend, and he is above all her partner. She doesn’t often use with him the tone of voice she does for stubborn politicians or agency heads who disagree with her, the one which is simultaneously so firm as not to brook complaint and a bit blithe, as though whatever is being discussed has already been decided in Peggy’s favor and aren’t they silly for having forgotten. By the way his eyebrows furrow even deeper, she knows he recognizes it and he even opens his mouth to say so, but in the end he instead goes to get his coat.

Their house is a ten minute walk from the skating pond - not even that if you’re Steve - but they’re usually too busy to even contemplate availing themselves of it. It’s already midmorning by the time they arrive and the day is perfect, sunny but frigid, so no one has to worry about softening ice. They are far enough into the season, however, that the novelty has worn off and only a few other groups are taking advantage.

Steve has, through mutual effort, become a passable dancer beyond back and forth swaying and turning in circles (not that the style doesn’t have its own charms). That skill doesn’t seem to translate to the ice, however, and he spends their first turns around the pond clutching her hands with the trembling ankles of a newborn deer taking its first steps. But he picks it up more quickly than she had expected, his serum-induced athleticism activating as he continues to practice, and soon his hand in hers has nothing to do with balance or security anymore.

They get competitive, they can’t help it, laughing as they race, taking care to swerve around the others with whom they are sharing the ice. Steve tries a couple of jumps - daring and occasionally reckless as he might be, he’s smart enough not to attempt flips just yet - and even when he falls, he just laughs and shakes himself off as he stands again.

It doesn’t escape Peggy’s eyes as they switch back over into their street shoes that Steve has stuffed his gloves into his pocket, that he drapes his coat over his arm deference to the sweat they’ve worked up. But she doesn’t mention anything, merely takes his hand once again for the walk home.

They go to watch Angie playing Martha Cratchit in A Christmas Carol the next week, and treat her to supper and hot apple cider afterward. (Steve crinkles his nose but keeps taking baffled sips from his mug, as if a preference for it might sneak up on him if he only keeps trying.) The week after that, it snows again and they spend Sunday in Prospect Park with Bucky so Peggy can experience the site of their youthful sledding exploits.

“Well, we didn’t exactly have a sled then,” Steve points out as they climb Lookout Hill. “But there’s plenty you can do with a garbage can lid or the old instrument trays that the hospital was getting rid of.” It’s the sort of statement which would have Peggy’s mother making faces like she had just sniffed sour milk, but Peggy herself actually smiles at the picture of her husband small enough to curl himself up for a trip down the hill and brash enough to try it.

“Can’t believe you’re forgetting my masterpiece,” Bucky jokes. “Weeks of collecting scrap wood and old nails, borrowing my dad’s hammer to put it all together, and you don’t even mention it.”

Steve shakes his head. “My mother was certain I’d get tetanus just from being near that thing when she saw what you’d made.”

“I think my ears are still ringing from her shouting - and don’t think I’ve forgotten that it was mostly at me.”

“You were the one stupid enough to build it!”

“You’re the one who was stupid enough to ride it.” With a grin, Bucky adds, “I didn’t think anyone could shout louder than my ma, so I guess I learned a lesson in more than woodworking that day.”

“Now I’m even more disappointed that I was never given a chance to meet her,” Peggy says as they reach the top before Bucky can play any further with the word woodworking. He had been discovered in Russia by a SHIELD spy and extracted a year before they found Steve; he is quiet about the professional help he has been getting to manage the pain of the things that happened to him during the war and after, but it’s clearly making a difference: his terrible sense of humor is returning in fuller force even than she knew it could. Steve’s hip nudges against hers, and she knows that it is not by accident. She looks up at him and catches his smile.

After a morning of racing down the hill until the crowds arrive, after they’d handed over their sleds to a group of kids without their own and, picking up food on the way, gone back to Bucky’s apartment to eat and talk and laugh together, Peggy and Steve take the train back home. His cheeks are still somewhat rosy when she looks at him, and the remnants of laughter still dance about his mouth. Halfway there, a pair of seats opens up and they sit side by side, leaning into each other a bit, watching absently through the steamed window as the city passes them by.

“I can tell what you’re doing, you know,” Steve says as they climb the porch stairs, returning from helping out at the Red Cross rummage sale. Steve has plenty of volunteer projects he’s associated with around the neighborhood - the soup kitchen, the community center - but she had been the one to suggest this; she remembers how welcome that bright symbol had been on the battlefield, in the same way as Steve’s shield.

“Unlocking the door?” she asks as she plucks her keys from her bag.

He is so near to her that she can feel his heat and practically his narrowed eyes as well as he says, “Not—Well, sure, but what I meant was that I know that you don’t just suddenly find winter outings appealing.”

She lets them through the door, unbuttoning her coat with her other hand. “Perhaps I’m only just becoming comfortable enough with you to share my love for them.” Until he comes out with what he is thinking, she isn’t going to simply believe the jig to be up.

“Peggy,” he says, and to anyone else listening it would just be her name, but she hears the real sharpness to the word. She turns to him, coat still draped around her shoulders. He’s shut the door with his foot and they haven’t had a chance to switch on the lights; his face is shadowed, difficult to make out in the muted light of the late afternoon.

“When you asked,” he says, and then makes himself take in more air. “When you asked if something was wrong, I didn’t know that there was. But it’s just that—” He ducks his head, then lifts it again, making himself look toward her. “I keep thinking of all those winters of never being quite warm enough, never having a good coat or shoes to keep out the damp, the way I knew that I was getting sick by the way my breath would catch when I laughed or when there was a certain taste in the back of my throat. I can’t forget the smell of trench foot from guys who’d been walking in wet boots for days, or the times I had to be the one to keep digging the graves because the ground was so frozen no one else could get through it. There are nights I close my eyes and see Buck falling, that jacket of his all dark against the snow, even though he survived, he’s back now and safe. And sometimes, when the wind is really bad, I feel like I remember—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head, though his shoulders shake as well, broad as they are.

They have talked about their time apart, as they call it, but he has always wanted to keep the focus on her end, on the things she had done and the way she had felt and all that had happened to her, pushing off talk of his end of things with reminders that there wasn’t anything to tell about what was essentially a prolonged sleep. They both know that he shouldn’t be able to recall any of it - he swears he was knocked out by the impact of the crash and he only woke up again long after he had been removed from the shell of the Valkyrie and completely warmed - but even the thought that he might remember a moment of his time frozen beneath the ice stabs at her.

“I could see that this time of year was difficult for you,” she says, and she doesn’t look away from him even as she folds herself inward. Typically her bulling forward has worked in her favor; the idea that it might have backfired and hurt the person she least wants to is intolerable. “I thought we might try to cloud some of the associations for you, to give you some new memories for the season. But perhaps it was a bit too much to overcome.”

He ducks his head and steps toward her; he is very near in the darkened front hall. “You weren’t wrong to try. The thing is that you did give me good new memories: helping people get through the worst of the cold, spending time with our friends, all those new moments with you. Those memories have to fit inside my head along with the old ones; you just made sure that sometimes when it’s cold what I’ll remember instead is kissing you with snowflakes on your eyelashes. I’m just never sure which is going to be the one my brain’ll bring up.”

“I know as well as you do that it’s impossible to erase the other memories,” she says. “But it’s terribly important to me to make sure that you have an entire lifetime’s worth of happy ones too.”

“You’ve given me a million wonderful ones, even when you weren’t trying,” he says staunchly. Captain America isn’t just a persona or a symbol, it’s who he is, the bolsterer, strong and entirely reliable, she’s always known that. But it is so clearly Steve Rogers who, after a pausing moment, asks, low and a bit worried, “But what about—I don’t want you to feel guilty if sometimes the good memories aren’t always enough. It’s only that the bad ones are still in there too.”

She closes her eyes; how particularly privileged she feels for him to allow himself to say such a thing when he spends so much time considering himself last, trying to make sure no one thinks of having to extend a hand on his behalf.

“Well,” she says, stepping forward and tucking herself beneath his coat with him, wrapping arms around his back to hold him tightly to herself. “In those moments, we just stand together and wait for spring.”

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Island folk

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 6 | Part 7 Island folk | Part 8 >

Disclaimer: mention of late motherhood worries

Author’s note: This story is just so much fun to write. I set a scene and *BOOM* it just kind of writes itself. Now, I don’t know how long this writing craze will continue, but so far you can expect an update every day. You read that right; every day! 

Word count: 1.525

(Link to my Masterlist)

--

[ Alice.in.writing.land ]

Dear readers,

Dark are the abysses of my heart sometimes, and I know that keeping those thoughts under lock and key only make things worse. And so, for the first time on this blog, I’d like to share something really, truly personal with you. A little snippet of my thoughts for a tender of your time, I’d like to come clean about my most recent Google search which I did late last night, after hours of laying awake.  

Late motherhood.

Why? You may wonder. Well, with my relationships continuously failing and the years - and candles - slowly adding up to my birthday cakes, I feel the increasing unease in my heart whenever I come to think of having a family of my own. Will it happen? And if so, am I not too late already? All my friends and family members had their first children in their late 20s, yet here I am, the oddball, single Pringling through life at 37.

It was about 3 AM late last night when I found myself quelling my nerves by looking at pictures of older female celebrities having kids at the “ripe old age of 35”, which in my book is still super young, but of course we are looking at Hollywood standards here. And, to be quite frank, I’m not sure if it helped me, but at least it did offer me the slightest sliver of hope as I found that I’ll probably just need a little luck, good preparation..and perhaps a donor, to make my wishes come true.

Research is required.

But, let’s not get carried away just yet. I know what I want, now all I need to give myself is time. Time to listen to my heart and learn if this is truly it, time to investigate my options a little more and time to sleep. Because honestly, Google is one hell of a click-through trap when you can’t sleep - I may or may not have ended up falling asleep to videos of laughing foxes, which are truly..the cutest. In case you want to look it up and dare to delve into the time consuming trap that is watching random Youtube videos, then search for: “Finnegan fox”.

Hi-la-ri-ous.  

Also; apparently chocolate cakes have internet access. So, aherm, hello and welcome to my little writing den, oh mysterious chocolate cake of mine!

A very sleepy, but glad to have this off her chest,

Ali

The waves broke softly onto the shoreline as the wind tugged gently on my hair, my pen scribbling away on the paper notebook on my lap. For some odd reason I found it much more comfortable to write by hand, and so whenever the mood struck and I found the time, I snuck out to my little beach hide-out and started to write. This time it was for work, but sometimes I also worked on smaller fictional stories, the very act of writing calming my nerves considerably.

I looked up when I heard the sound of slushing feet through the fine sand, the distinct vibrations telling me someone was approaching me with slow, dragging feet. And.. it appeared to be not just anyone.

Henry.

So very suddenly I felt terrible about posting that blog this morning. Had he read it? Would he start a conversation about it? I wasn’t quite sure if I wanted to have that conversation with him right now. We were at best just dating, our newly rekindled friendship slash relationship only a few days young.

He stifled a yawn as he plopped down beside me on the picnic blanket, his eyes sporting large dark circles beneath them, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked me over. I sniffled, shaking my head at the fact that we both had barely slept - obviously.

‘Mornin’.’ He grumbled, a gentle smile reaching his lips, his body leaning forward, but halting mid-morning kiss. Almost automatically I closed the distance, my hand moving aside my notebook so I could lean in, lips brushing over his, which apparently was just what he needed, his lips curling up in a full smile. ‘Hi.’ I whispered into his lips, then leaned back, tucking some rogue curl behind his ear before studying him better. Once more he wore a blue shirt - he had a gazillion of those, didn’t he? - and some dark jeans, his hair fresh and messy straight out of bed.

’So…no sleep then?’ I inquired, watching him as he slowly moved his gaze towards the rolling waves before us. ‘Nope.’ ‘How come?’ ‘Hmm..’ He thought aloud. ‘..I suppose it is difficult to just stop my life right dead in its tracks.’ He sighed.

‘What’s up Hen?’ I scooted closer to him, fingering a hand through his curls, his eyes closing as he revelled into the simpleness of my touch.

‘I have to fly back to London for the weekend. There’s this event that my manager can’t seem to cancel without serious repercussions and..’ He sighed again. ‘You don’t want to go.’ ‘Not really no. But I will have to. The fox videos helped by the way.’

My heart summersaulted at his words - not only because he apparently read my blog, which wasn’t entirely surprising, but also because he was showing so much vulnerability. This large bear of a man was being honest about the things that frustrated him, something I had never experienced with previous partners. They’d always just burst out in flames all of a sudden, without giving me any fair warning before hand.

‘Hmm..’ I hummed, thinking. His eyes were still staring out to the sea, soft waves cascading in similar shades to his cerulean irises. He truly seemed to be a bit done with it all. 

‘I’ve got some swimming pig videos at the ready too.’ I added, laying my head onto his shoulder and wrapping both my arms around his large chest, wishing to comfort him a little. ‘Hehe..swimming pigs.’ He chuckled, his chest vibrating with near silent mirth. ’Yea..can you imagine? Those tiny, tiny legs kicking through aquamarine water, their noses sticking out the water like living, breathing, skin coloured electricity points. Oink oink!’

Henry’s chuckle turned into rumbling laughter, his shoulders shaking until he finally looked back at me, my head still resting on his shoulder. ‘Ali..I ..eh..know this is maybe a bit weird, but, would you perhaps like to join me? To London? Leaving Friday night, back Sunday morning?’

I sat up, my brown eyes staring into his deep blues. Tender, hopeful blues. ‘Hmm.’ I hummed, blinking for a moment as I mulled over his words.

‘I know it’s all going fast and I don’t want to pressure you.’ He added.

‘No, it’s okay. It’s ehm..okay. Yea, sure, I’ll come. I haven’t been to London in ages and don’t have weekend plans anyways.’

‘Ages?’ ‘Naa..okay..maybe not ages. More like months.’ I snorted. We both laughed until finally my eyebrow quirked up. ‘So..what kind of event are you ..or we..going to?’ Henry smiled, leaning in to kiss me, the sound of my fluttering heart drowning out all else around us.

The answer to my question didn’t matter, I was simply very happy that I could join him and finally get a sneak peek of his usual life. Henry’s life.

—

‘I’m still amazed at the fact that you managed to pack all your things in that one backpack.’ Henry grinned, pushing my backpack in the overhead storage locker in First Class. I grinned in turn, shrugging my shoulders as I sat back in my seat. ‘Oh you know. I don’t mock about. No need to bring the unnecessary.’

‘You’d make for a fine traveller.’ He admitted, plopping down in his seat, right next to me, his hand quite instantaneously interlacing with mine - he didn’t even seem to think about it -, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips as he watched two business men enter, taking their seats a few rows ahead, leaving us plenty of privacy.

Slowly, he cast me a curious glance. ‘What is it, dear?’ He asked, noticing my studious look, his smile growing and his blue eyes sparkling.

‘Mmm..just wondering. You probably thought about this far better than I have thus far. But if you’d start a family..how would that..go? Like..-‘ ‘The travelling and stuff?’ ‘Yea.’

Henry leaned into the headrest, his head tilting up slightly as he licked his lips. ‘It’s going to take some back-and-forthing with my partner. And it won’t be easy. It will not only be my children that will give you broken nights, you see.’ He grinned and my heart fluttered at his words - children! -, yet my mouth remained sealed, waiting for him to continue. He sighed. ‘I..would definitely slow down my career. For the longest time I didn’t even think of that as a possibility. But like you wrote quite perfectly; all my friends and family members had their children young and here I am..the oddball. I know I should not press my luck by demanding my partner to give up everything for me. That is just not fair.’

‘Give and take.’ I added.

‘Yes, give and take.’ He smiled at me, his large warm hand squeezing mine gently. It felt nice. ‘Okay..so another question. You live in London right?’ ‘Mostly, yes.’ He nodded, making me grin. ‘Yea yea..Superman has several mansions and a jet setting career that makes you quiver right back into your 2-bedroom flat.’ I rolled my eyes. ‘But all joking aside..why did you chose to stay with your parents, now you requested a “time-out”?’

Henry shifted in his seat, his smiling face turning to one holding a more serious expression. ‘I’m from the island baby. And I will always, ALWAYS return to the island. It is my one true home after all.’  

--

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[jjuzoir]

Could I get some first kiss headcanons with Summer troupe? They're my faves and I absolutely adore each of them!

Request:

A/N: i get you anon,, they’re so cute;; summer group filled with softies

——🌻——

Summer Troupe First Kiss HC!

Tenma:

- You two were hanging out at the park near the dorms!

- It was a sunny summer day, summer break had just started and the sun seemed brighter than ever in the clear blue sky.

- Tenma had bought you two some ice cream and now you laid on the soft, watered grass protected from the sun under a big tree.

- “Can’t believe you didn’t want vanilla, [Name]- you can’t go wrong with vanilla,” Tenma rolled his eyes at you while shoving a big scoop of ice cream into his mouth.

- “And I can't believe you chose vanilla when they had like, I don’t know, a thousand different flavors?!” You snorted, “Vanilla is for the basic bitches, Sumeragi.”

- “H-Hey! It might be basic but it tastes good.”

- “Oh, really? Then let me taste it,” you prop yourself up in one arm and look up at him.

- He smirked slightly before picking his plastic spoon- one fittingly orange- and scooping out a big chunk of vanilla before nodding along with your plans.

- “Fine but give me your spoon,” he rolls his eyes as he shoves another spoonful into his mouth but a small drip had fallen from the corner of his lips to his chin.

- Then, you attack; you go kiss him smack straight in the lips aiming at the melted sweet.

- You pull away before nodding in agreement; the vanilla ice cream really was as good as he said.

- The kiss tasted of cold, ice cream and sweet vanilla plus the hint of lip balm added a sweeter feeling of lemons to the mix.

- And that’s how you had your first kiss with Tenma, who in the end, turned so red everyone around you two though he had a heat stroke.

——🌻——

Yuki:

- You were helping him with the costumes for the newest Winter troupe costumes late at night.

- Sakyo and Izumi were making rounds at his room to make sure you didn’t do anything stupid but it was already 11PM on a Sunday night and you both had school early tomorrow so que whining from you and scolding from Yuki.

- “Can’t we put it on hold, Yuki? We’ve got school tomorrow, we can’t skip or-“

- “Stop complaining and sew those buttons,” Yuki rolled his eyes at you before redirecting his focus on the sewing machine in front of him.

- “B-But it’s so late! You have to be kidding me,” you rub your eyes tiredly, “W-What about that skin-shit you’re always complaining about?!”

- “We need to have these done by Tuesday, [Name], we can’t stop now.”

- “Yes we can, instead of working now and possibly screwing up why don’t we just finish it up in the morning!”

- “Because.”

- “You can’t just say because!”

- “Less complaining, more sewing.”

- You huff annoyed before continuing sewing the buttons on Hisoka’s blazer, fucking Yuki and his need to get things done fast!

- “What if,” you mutter under your breath, “I give you something in return for my sleep?”

- “Gah, stop-“ Yuki blinks slowly as your words settle in, “What could you possibly give me that would make me wanna stop now?”

- You stand up, leaving the materials- especially the needles- in place before skipping behind Yuki’s chair and hugging him from behind.

- “A hug-?!” He goes to mock your choice before being cut off by your lips giving him a quick peck.

- “No, a kiss!”

- “A KISS?!”

- Congratulations! You’ve managed to corrupt Yuki to the point of shortwiring, he’s now malfunctioning :(

- His lips were soft, he tasted of coffee- probably from the 3 cups he had drowned that evening….

- You felt him attempt to kiss you back but before anything could happen you pulled away smirking.

- He’s now red in the face, a red as bright as the fabric he was using as he tried not to squeal in shock.

- “So, can we please bring Muku in and go to sleep?”

- “... Fine but you tell anyone about it- Ack!”

- You shut him up with another kiss on the lips, but this time- you could feel him kiss you back properly.

——🌻——

Muku:

- It was during one of your anime marathons!

- One of just favorite series had finally gotten its long awaited anime adaptation, and through a rough month of no-spoilers you two had finally gotten together to binge watch it all.

- It was another romance anime, one of the millions that Muku had read throughout his short life- but you had to admit that even if it was kind of cheesy it still somehow made your heart race.

- By the end of the penultimate episode it was already 2 in the morning on a Friday night and sleep was crawling unforgivably into your brain.

- “Muku… how many episodes… left?”

- He yawned before looking at the list, “I think… one?”

- “Already?!” You gasp shocked before sitting up, okay- you can do it! 25 minutes, no ads- you could do it, right! Right?... Oh no… you’re falling asleep!

- You pinch yourself awake, come on!!! It was getting good!! The protagonists were finally kissing after being apart for years!!!

- Muku was your struggle against sleep and laughed to himself before covering his mouth in fear of hurting your feelings.

- Just then, he remembered a scene you two had previously watched… episode 17, where the boy kissed the girl awake after she had fallen asleep in the library… could he do so too?

- A pink rivaling that of his hair crept into his cheeks- what if you hated it though? What if he smelled bad? Or if he was a bad kisser??

- He was too caught up in his mental-torture session he didn’t realize you sneaking up on him and kissing his lips.

- He felt your lips touch his and his eyes opened wide, you had done it!! Did this mean you liked him- wait, did you like it?? He liked it but that doesn’t mean you did too-

- “A-Ah! [Name],” he shrieked as the blush deepened, he touched his lips- he could still feel yours in them.

- At least now he didn’t have to worry about messing up, “Thank you, hehe.”

——🌻——

Misumi:

- You were helping him on one of his triangle hunts when you two had your first kiss.

- He had insisted you two go to the park nearby since, and I quote, “Had heard the crows talk about triangular treasure!”

- So, 2 hours into the hunt and you were exhausted from attempting to keep up with Misumi and his treasure hunt.

- “Oh my… it’s too hot for this, Misumi,” you rest your body on the ground.

- “Nope! We’re not leaving until we find the Super Rare Ultra Triangle Treasure!”

- You sigh tiredly and close your eyes before waving the blue haired boy off , “Give me 5 minutes.”

- “Okay but I am not gonna share the treasure with you,” he jokes before practically disappearing from the air.

- You turn around in the soft grass, it felt so nice against your skin- you wondered if you could find some water or something cold.

- You opened your eyes only to find a small cart stationed near the edge of the park; a shaved ice cart!

- You practically jump in line and count your money, you’d order two and bribe Misumi into coming home by asking it to be triangle shaped!

- And by the time Misumi came to drag you back to the hunt you had two shaved ice cream in your boyfriend’s favorite shape!

- “You found the treasure!!”

- He jumps you with a hug and takes the cone into his hands and takes the biggest bite ever.

- “And what’s my reward, Misumi-kun?”

- “Reward… reward, what could [Name] want for finding the ultra rare super triangle?”

- You smile at his scrunched up face, he looked so cute concentrating like that you could help yourself from kissing him.

- He’s shocked at first, he quickly smiles into your lips before kissing you back.

- “I’m fine with that.”

- “Hahaha, me too~”

——🌻——

Kazunari:

- You two were shopping for supplies to help Kazu for his next assignment, some weird yarn or whatever art students needed, when you found a photobooth.

- “Yah, let’s get some dope pics!”

- “I’m not feeling too well, Kazunari,” you shyly deny him but he doesn’t listen- or maybe he just doesn’t care- because he’s soon shoving you into the seat before you can hear his reply.

- “It’s just for you and me, ain’t no one gonna see ‘em,” he smirked before inserting some coins, “Let’s see, how should we pose for the first one, eh?”

- “Maybe a heart? I-I don’t know, I’m not good with- Ah!”

- Before you can finish your thought when you hear the countdown starting, you quickly rest your arms next to Kazunari forming a big heart; an eye-smile follows and boom! First picture done!

- “Kay, next! Maybe some peace signs?”

- “Oh- uh, sure? It’s starting,” you quickly pose and you feel Kazunari’s arms circle your waist and boom!

- “Second pic’s done,” Kazunari smiles, “But I can't think of what to do for the last two- oh, it’s starting, any ideas-!!”

- You panic and simply kiss him on the lips, that’s a good picture… right?

- By the time you hear the camera click Kazu pulls away blushing a deep red, how the turned tables have oh.

- Before any of you two can think of another pose a photo is taken where your boyfriend’s blushing red and you’re smirking up at him in victory.

- “Guess I came up with the best picture idea, ha!”

[stayforya]

I DON’T KNOW IF WE CAN BE FRIENDS | PT. 1

member: hwang hyunjin

genre: college!au

words: 5.4k

summary: there were no doubts you and hyunjin would be friends for life, nothing would be able to tear you apart. except one of you.

a/n: another au based on a song, this time it’s by hollyn. i’m thinking about a part 2, this story may need one. if you think so too, please tell me <3

link to part 2

“I love you, y/n. everything about you”

you remember those words like an echo in your head

if you’re in silence, they come back

you end up thinking about it over and over again

you remember the kiss hyunjin gave you after saying that

you were lying your head on his shoulder

and his gaze, you swear, could make you fall in love a thousand times

his lips tasted like cherry and love was almost touchable when they reached yours

you and hyunjin met years ago

he was in a big part of your life

all your high school memories had him because your friendship was too strong

it’s like never wanting to be far from each other ‘cause you were never tired of each other

morning, afternoon, even some evenings you spent together

talking about anything

hanging with some friends

crying over the tests you had to do in order to find a university

the days when the sunshine was too strong and weather too hot so he bought you ice cream even if you didn’t ask

the days when the rain was pouring and the weather too cold so he’d put his jacket over your head

he’d hug you when you were at the peak of stress

he knew it calmed you down

it was the ‘once in a lifetime’ kind of thing

you didn’t believe in only one true love during life, but you knew what you had with hyunjin was definitely special

life has its own path, though

you two finally kissed, but none talked about becoming more than friends

you were enjoying each other in a new level, which everyone already suspected but for a long time it was truly only friendship

by the way you two were involving into the relationship, it would end up happening

you kissed and said things you already said to each other before

like ‘I love you’

but it sounded different

it wasn’t just a friendly ‘I love you’

it felt like dating, but you didn’t want to discuss or label the relationship

you wanted to live it

hyunjin never had any problem in giving you hugs, even when your friends kept making some jokes about you two

he never stopped touching you because of what people said

but when you two confessed

and kissed

you kinda felt like he felt more free

he touched your hair, kissed your cheeks, looked at you closer, locked his fingers in yours

whenever he had an opportunity he’d come to you, put his right hand on your neck so naturally

and kiss you

say funny or beautiful things next to your ear

laugh when you tied his hair and played with it while he worked on some math exercises

all memories

it was hard to swallow that truth

one day, exactly one week after you got your acceptance letter

hyunjin got his

but he didn’t look so happy

even though it was his dream university

you didn’t understand

“this is amazing!”, you said, giving him a hug

he hugged you back but his smile wasn’t the same

“it’s your dream uni, right?”

“yeah yeah”, he answered, “do you want to eat ice cream?”

why did he suddenly change the subject

you agreed anyways

you tried to talk about it again, but he didn’t seem like he wanted to keep the conversation

days went by, the last days of high school

everything between you two was normal

specially during the last week

he took you to the cinema

took you to an amusement park

brought you flowers

spent a lot of time with you

and in every event he created to enjoy

you thought he was about to ask to be your boyfriend

but no, you were wrong

and the last date, on Friday

he took you home, kissed your forehead

and said “I love you, y/n. everything about you”

he held the entire galaxy in his eyes

caressing your hair and looking at you

saving that moment in his memory

right there, the sunset behind you two

you kissed like it was the first and last time

the beginning and the end of something, you didn’t know how to explain

but it kinda felt like a farewell

you loved him, too

you always did, and you didn’t plan to stop

during the same night, before going to sleep

you were so immersed in feelings and thoughts

you sent him a message

saying how you felt

how good it was to be with him and how much you wanted to spend a lot of time with him

his presence was enough cause he was enough

after that, you just went to sleep

in the morning, he hadn’t replied yet

day went by, and still, he didn’t reply

on sunday he still didn’t give you any sign

on monday, when the whole class gathered at school to prepare for graduation day

hyunjin wasn’t there

everyone was asking you

and with a broken smile you answered “he couldn’t come today”

after school you finally decided to knock on his door

no one was home, not even his dog

did he suddenly turn into dust and disappear? did he go to space or something like this?

you sat in front of his house, putting your backpack aside

since his house’s wifi connected automatically on your phone, you just stayed there scrolling through your phone

waiting

30min later, a car parked

he and his mom came out of it and you stood up

as soon as he saw you, you could notice the worrying expression on his face

his mom saw you there and came immediately

“oh, hi, y/n! did you spend a lot of time waiting?”

“hi, hm no, I just got here”, you lied and gave her a smile

“do you want to come in?”

“thank you, I have to go home because it’s getting dark”

hyunjin was doing things slowly as if he wanted to avoid talking to you

when he finally closed the car’s door, coming on your direction

your heart started beating faster

you were a mix of mad, relieved and disappointed

how could you start that conversation?

“hey”, hyunjin said and it was almost a whisper

“I don’t understand what’s happening”

“I couldn’t go to school today”

“you didn’t say anything after friday night. what am I supposed to think?”

he looked at the ground, running one hand on the neck

“I’m sorry, y/n”

“hyunjin… did you… regret? if so, just tell me”

“no, I regret nothing, y/n”, in that moment he looked at you and you could see the sincerity in his eyes, “but there are so many things happening”

“so tell me! I’m your friend, remember?”

he took a deep breath

“I’m moving. the university I’m attending isn’t here so my family decided to move.”

why didn’t you think about it before?

of course after high school things change

“when?”

“we went there today to see a new place, by the end of this week I’m probably moving already”

“so that’s why?”

he didn’t understand your question

“that’s why you did it all last friday? was it your way of treating me the best you could to say goodbye afterwards?”, the words came out quickly

“y/n…”

“is that it, hyunjin?”, you were very serious

he took a while to finally say something

and you wish he didn’t

you wish he said something else

because it hurted

“yes. we won’t be able to date in this situation, I’ll be in another place and it wouldn’t be fair to you”

“did you ever ask what I think about it? I mean-”

“it wouldn’t work, y/n. it’s also a new step in our lives. maybe it’s for the best”

“would you tell me if I didn’t come all the way here, waited for you and asked? would you go there to break up with me or would you simply ignore me and move on?”

your voice didn’t show all the madness because you weren’t only mad

you were also sad and disappointed so you just kept talking fast, but not angry

he always looked in your eyes

and the fact that he wasn’t at that moment

seriously…

why was he acting so cold?

you never saw hyunjin like that before, not with you

but you knew his bodytalk well enough to know what he was feeling

he just didn’t want to show

“I’m really sorry, y/n…”, he touched your right arm

for the first time it felt different

you held his arm before he could go

“did that mean something to you?”

you both knew what ‘that’ meant

the kiss

the ‘I love you’

the moments you shared, not only as friends, but as two people who had feelings for each other

“hyunjin?”, his mom’s voice came out of nowhere

he didn’t get in so she wanted to make sure if he was still there

“I have to go”, he said

your hand let go of his arm as if it was toxic

you turned your back at him and kept walking

and walking

and walking

your steps were so firm and you felt so mad

but at the moment you got home, after a long walk

your body fell on your bed and the tears came down

silently

you’d never

ever

be friends with him again

what happened crushed it all

your friendship, your relationship

any trace of feelings should be gone

you had a lot of pictures of you two on your phone

good memories

your finger was almost deleting everything, but you’d regret

saving those moments in pictures would make you look back and feel good

in the future, maybe, not now

there was a video

of you filming the sunset and suddenly he comes running

getting closer and filling the screen with his smiley face

your voice saying “noooo” and laughing right away

dang

it hurt

you thought it would be hard to see him the next day at school because you didn’t know how to treat him

talk? ignore?

but turns out he didn’t even go

probably too busy with his ‘moving’ things

who cares 

finally the other day he was there

you arrived and he was already sitting on the place you used to sit together

since those were the last days, your class just had to finish some graduation details

so you didn’t need to talk to him

mainly because he didn’t seem to care at all

you could feel his glances

but he was the one who broke up, wasn’t he?

so it wasn’t up to you run back to him

of course it hit you hard

not because of the love relationship

but the long term friendship you guys had

if you ever knew it would be ruined like this…

after graduation, all the news you had from him were by watching his instagram stories and seeing his posts

he was already living well in his new place, making some friends and taking pics of everything like he used to

you didn’t talk again

you didn’t go to say goodbye when he left, but you almost sent a message

and deleted it all before having the courage to send it

you just had to go on with your life

also, uni wouldn’t take so long to start

the next couple months were, firstly, chill and, then, busy

you needed to get ready for this new chapter of your life and you were pretty excited

you found a nice roommate

the university was huge, so different from high school

so many things happening at once

you were still trying to absorb everything

the first weeks were quite hard

you had a lot to catch up on

new subjects, new people, new life

in the end of the day you were always tired, so you just took a shower and went to sleep

just after the first three months you’d say you were 100% adjusted

finally getting to enjoy the weekends a bit lol

“are you going to the festival this weekend?”, one of your friends asked

you made a funny face

“is there a festival happening and no one is talking about it?”

“no, you’re just out of the world”, she laughed

“there’s this band coming, two of the boys are from here”, another friend said, eating one of your fries

“are they famous or something?”

“well, people really like them here but I never saw them live, so…”

“I wonder how they find time to rehearse”

“a friend of mine said they just play for fun, so they don’t rehearse a lot but they’re very good”

“they must be talented, then. are you guys going?”

“of course, some other artists will come too”

“then I’ll think about it”, you said, drinking the last sip of juice

“you know who plays too?”

“tell me”, you faked an interest to make fun of them, cause they were already making fun of you with that question

“lee minho”

your eyebrows raised in real interest

but you tried to pretend you didn’t care

too late, they noticed

“you can’t even hide it!”, they burst into laugh

“I said nothing”

“no need to say, your face showed it all”

“alright, alright”

now you had a motivation

lee minho was a handsome and smart guy from technology department

he was your senior and you met him through some TA classes he gave

everyone knew how fun he was, yet dedicated

knowing he played in a band was unexpected but it did spark more interest

that week was full for you and the only moment you had to breathe was while walking from one class to another

but on friday morning you’d finish everything and enjoy the festival with your friends at night

that’s how it went

you just put a comfortable nice clothing on and went to the field where the concerts would happen

you met your friends there, they saved a place for you

but after a while no one would be sitting anymore

everyone was gathering

when you got up to get something to eat, you met minho on the way

“oh hey”, he smiled at you

“hey”, you sure smiled brighter

he was quite shy but cool at the same time

you didn’t know how, but minho could do both pretty well

“so aren’t you playing today?”, you asked

“ah yeah yeah…”, cutie minho jumped out, “we already set everything up”

“can’t wait”

“oops, careful”, he told someone and put his hand next to your arm as if he was shielding it

you didn’t even understand what happened but by the way the guy said ‘sorry’ he was probably about to bump into you and minho noticed before

“thanks”

“where were you heading to?”

“just to find something to eat”

“can I follow you?”, his eyes. no words to describe. cool minho popped up.

“of course”

you and him were talking about some stupid stuff and laughing together while you waited in a long line to get some hot dog

when you finally got it and was about to go back to your seat, some guys stopped you two

you and minho turned around to greet them

there were two of them

one you already knew, he was also from your uni

the other guy was from another one but minho introduced him too

and when you thought there were only those who played in the band with him

you remembered there was one missing, probably

he came running

tall and handsome

nice clothes on, but a friendly smile

wait

that shirt, you knew it

you knew those sneakers too

that necklace swinging while he ran

your smile was fading

“oh, here he is”, minho said, “this is hyunjin”

never

ever

you imagined

you’d meet

him

again

like this

out of all the possibilities, why like this? how in the world was he there, at your university, friends with minho, playing in a band

you hadn’t seen him since that day

and after a while you just didn’t pay attention to his instagram updates anymore because

one: you didn’t have a lot of time

two: you were getting over

you already did, right?

but seeing him in front of you

the sunset behind him

a pinkish orange sky

the wind blowing on his face

no matter how many days, months, years

he’d still hit right in your feelings when you met him again

and the day was there

he smiled slightly, greeting you

“we know each other”

the other boys were surprised

“we studied together”, you completed

was that awkward? maybe the way you guys looked at each other

it felt like the time stopped, no joke

but you guys made it work out well

“did you come for the concert?”, the other boy asked

“yeah, can’t wait”, you opened a weird smile now that hyunjin was, like, in front of you

even when you weren’t looking at him you could feel his stare

minho made way for you and kept talking until he had to go up and you had to find your seat again

you wished them luck, not directly looking at hyunjin for more than one second

coming back to your seat, you were just wishing so hard that he didn’t notice how nervous you got

“are you okay?”, your friend asked

“for someone who was wandering around with lee minho, you should look happier”

you made fun of her

“of course I’m okay, he introduced me to his bandmates”

“oh shoot, I should have gone with you”, she said in a funny tone

the concert started some minutes later

and that festival feeling

you were really needing that

so many things to do and finally you had time to just have some fun

minho was so amazing playing and singing

your eyes should be stuck only on him

that’s what you wanted

but hyunjin was next to him, you couldn’t help but frame them both and keep staring

it felt like some kind of dream

it couldn’t be real, he couldn’t be there

there was something different about him

still, you could see the same guy you shared so many moments

the song they were playing, the sunset, everything

it made you feel some kind of feeling you couldn’t really explain into words

they sang five songs and after them there were other artists

after they got out of the stage, you saw minho far from where you were

you were trying to communicate

but hyunjin appeared right behind him and started looking at where minho was looking at

which was you

you couldn’t really concentrate on minho with hyunjin there but you focused a lot to talk to him

he said he was going to eat

and asked if you wanted to meet next to the food truck later

you consented, it was just hard because there were so many people around you

he nodded and smiled, but hyunjin…

he did the same

he knew you weren’t talking to him, still he smiled at you after you and minho smiled at each other

stupid guy

since you were having fun with your friends, you and them watched that concert and only went eat when it finished

another artist was starting a concert

but you guys went to the food place to eat something

you found minho and waved at him

“sorry we’re late”

“no problem”

hyunjin wasn’t there anymore

minho was there with just one of them

“the other boys went home already”, he said as if he could read your mind

“uh I love this song”, your friend said

the atmosphere was very romantic to be honest

even the vocalist told the crowd to find a partner and dance

you weren’t close to the stage but the song was loud, you could hear it and feel the romantic thing in the air

“do you want…?”, minho asked in a cool way, slightly pointing to the stage with his head, just to make sure you knew what he was talking about

“yes”

he was asking you to dance

you held his hand and, slowly, let yourself come closer

because that song needed a slow dance

your arms around his neck were the first step

but after a while, your head was already close to his

and he smelled so good

he danced so well

he did everything well, right?

minho was one of a kind

you guys didn’t kiss, but for a moment you almost did

because you two were just so close, enjoying the song

and right when you had the chance

the concert was over

everyone was standing to applaud

that was the last day you saw hyunjin

he posted a pic of the concert on his instagram and you looked at it for a good amount of time

until you just stopped the thoughts on your mind and kept going

there was a lot to do

months went by

what you had with minho wasn’t a relationship

but it wasn’t a friendship also

he was in a very busy moment of his undergraduate life and you understood that

since you were trying to study the most you could while you had the energy for that, on the first years of undergraduate degree

you met each other every week because of the classes you had at the same building

people were already suspicious that you guys had something

and yes, you did

you just didn’t know how to name that ‘something’

you know what

it felt just like what you had with hyunjin

it had been one year since you and hyunjin broke up

you laughed by yourself

‘break up’

“I love you, y/n. everything about you”

what a joke

minho sent you a message at the same time you were thinking about this

he wrote that the class was about to end and he’d like to see you if you had some time

you two set an hour to meet and you were already excited to see him

maybe because the thoughts of hyunjin haunting you

minho always made you feel light and happy

you took a shower and got ready to meet him

by the amount of perfume, your roommate knew you had a date

crossing the campus to meet minho at the café wasn’t even tiring, you just put some music on your earphones and walked there

maybe because you needed some glasses you couldn’t see pretty well the person walking towards you

oh one was a colleague of yours with whom you had classes together once

the other one you never saw

it was the moment of the year new people were arriving, so that’s why there were some fresh faces

then, as if it was a movie scene, one walking towards the other

it was him

his black shirt, his necklace, his bracelets, rings

so different but still the same

again, after such a long time

right when you were forgetting everything

hyunjin

you couldn’t avoid

or turn around and pretend you didn’t see him

he was right in front of you, kinda lost

you felt your feet stopping before your mind could think about why

everyone was passing by, but you two were stuck right there

what should you say?

what should he say?

did you both have anything to say?

“y/n”

your name sounded prettier coming out of his lips

“you, here?”, you heard your voice as if it wasn’t coming from you

“I’m transferring”

“you what?”, again, you said before thinking

“it’s for a year, initially. if it works, who knows…”

“sorry. hm. how are you?”

this conversation was such a mess

“fine”, he smirked, “you?”

“when did you…”

“I just arrived”

you nodded, looking around

“I didn’t know”, you said

of course you didn’t! was he supposed to tell you after not talking to each other for more than one year?

“yeah… not a lot of people know”

“this sounds… unreal”, you smiled at yourself. not a happiness smile, just a ‘can’t believe it’ smile

“my university offered this, some people from here are going to study there too, so”

“nice, yeah, nice”, you didn’t know what to say

he was biting his lips almost unnoticed, because he was a bit nervous

you didn’t know a lot of new things about of him, if anything, you knew his body language very well

“it’s good to see you again”, hyunjin said

“it’s been a long time”

“that day at the festival, sorry I couldn’t talk to you”

you nodded but changed the subject

“you play well”

“thanks”

the conversation was getting weirder

“do you know where minho is? he said he’d show me around”

“minho? do you guys still play?”

“just when we have time to meet”, he smiled running his hand through his hair

and you noticed everything

but, come on, he did too

he looked at every single movement you made

paying attention to you in a way he didn’t in a very long time

as if he didn’t want to miss the moment

he had gentle eyes

you missed that

you missed him, you just tried to forget

you didn’t solve things; you guys didn’t talk after what happened

he broke up and you had nothing to say

just let him go

“I’m about to meet him, though”

“oh”, he wanted to sound surprised but you could see how half of him knew what was going on. who didn’t notice on the festival day?

“do you want to come?”, you asked

“can I?”

you just gave him the look you always did

and kept walking, knowing he was following you

hands inside the pockets and a little smile on his face

minho was there at the café

he didn’t notice until you got through the door

his face went from happy to surprised

because he saw hyunjin

he talked to you first, giving a hug and caressing your hair

it wasn’t cringy, he knew the limits to affection in public

but hyunjin, after noticing the hug, started looking around

until minho greeted him too

“how did you find me?”, he asked

“y/n”, hyunjin answered

“sit with us, please”

you looked at minho trying to make him send hyunjin away

lol he could do that because he had his savageness

but since hyunjin just arrived, he’d be the nice friend

“what would you like to eat?”, minho asked you

since he wasn’t looking at any of you, both answered

“hm, I-”, you started

“anything is okay”, hyunjin said

you looked at him

he looked at you

minho looked at both

and giggled

“it’s on me, choose whatever you want”

you rolled eyes because of hyunjin

during the whole time, he was talking to minho

why didn’t he already leave?

you wanted some time alone

the date would be so nice if he hadn’t stepped in

here and there you said something, but you weren’t even in the mood

they talked about the band

talked about the university

and the only moment you really paid attention was when hyunjin started talking about his reasons to study there

“I felt bad because my family moved there so I could go to university”, he said

“and now, where are them?”, minho asked

“they’re planning to come live nearby now”

“so everything’s good, bro”

“yeah, they’re very good to me”

“oh, I just remembered. you two know each other, right?”

oh no minho

you didn’t have to…

“yes”, hyunjin answered

“we do”, you said

“but how? tell me”, he was interested and you had to be careful with all the words

why not let hyunjin explain

“we studied together for a long time”, he said, “but, because of university, we didn’t keep in touch”

ha ha ha he’s the funniest

you lifted one eyebrow paying attention to his narrative

“yeah, it’s been a long time”

“so maybe you could help him tomorrow, y/n?”

“help?”

“yes, he needs to find some places and I won’t be able to help him because of my exams”

ok but what about the other guys he knew? I mean, why you?

“me?”, you tried not to sound too bad

“his building is right next to yours”

oh great, amazing, splendid

“ok, I will”, you smiled to minho

since the three of you had finished eating and talking

and your date was successfully ruined by hyunjin’s presence

maybe now you could have time alone with minho

but you were wrong

“I’m sorry, guys, gotta go. I have an extra class now…”

your disappointed expression was noticed by him

he gave you another hug

“see you tomorrow?”

you nodded

hyunjin was pretending to search for something on his phone

“see you, call me anytime!”, minho said to him during the handshake

“thanks, bro, I will”

you watched him run to his appointment

wishing you had some time

it was crazy

cause hyunjin was there by your side too

and when you focused on the fact he was there, your mind became a mess

so you kept walking

and he followed you

you stopped

he stopped too

you turned around

“are you following me?”

“yes, so I can find things easily”

“if you need help, just ask”

“I need help”, he said

“ok, what”

“I have a question”

“I’m waiting”

“what’s going on between you and minho?”

after hearing that, you started walking again

and he was already by your side

“excuse me?”

“I was wondering…”

“we’re friends. very close friends.”

you knew hyunjin, he already knew what was going on, he just wanted to make sure by hearing it from you

“like we were?”

that topic was a bit hard

“no. like I am with him. it’s different”

silence for a while

“I missed you”

you couldn’t help but laugh a little

“you did?”

“I do”

“it was harsh when you ended up things, okay? you were childish”

he was listening carefully

you knew your words were supposed to hurt

“I am sorry. your friendship was… is very important to me, and I didn’t want to lose it”

“we couldn’t help but like each other in another level”

“I know but I was scared. it didn’t happen in a good moment because I’d have to leave anyway”

“before anything, we were friends. you should have told me.”

“I know. and I don’t regret anything we lived together. as friends and… as lovers”

lovers

for the first time, a name to what you guys had

so ‘lovers’ was what you and hyunjin were

for a brief moment

“I also don’t regret anything I told you. how I- I loved you”

“why are you telling me this now?”, you questioned, moved by his words

“better late than never. y/n, you are one of the reasons I am here. you changed my life in so many ways and, yes, I was childish by not knowing how to deal with my feelings”

you already have walked a lot and now you were close to the dorms

you looked at him

“I didn’t have to be one of your reasons”

“it’s not up to you to decide... you are one of them.”

his sweet face staring at you

being sincere with everything he felt

but you didn’t know if it was right to just let go of it all and start again

not as lovers, but as friends

at least friends…

even though you missed him in each and every way

his voice sounded soft and low

“I still love you. you are part of me and I can’t let go so easily. I wanted to tell you this for a long time, I wanted to say sorry and maybe try again.”

he reached out for you

“I don’t want to be a stranger to you like we have been for a very long time, hyunjin…”

“me neither. let the past be past. I want to be a friend again”

friend or lover, you wanted him

he was a part of you hard to let go, too

it could be easier

just say yes and become friends again

but the process isn’t easy like this

to start over would be complicated

it would mean you’d have to restore each other’s confidence

and take the risk of falling in love again

this risk… it was too much

he would always mess with your feelings, as a friend or a lover

and because it was hard

because you weren’t sure

because he suddenly came back and messed it up again

you had to say

“I don’t know if we can be friends”

his hopeful eyes became a bit sad

you tightened your grip on his hand before letting go

and walked back to your dorm

link to part 2

[elisaphoenix13]

Antlord Drabble 21

Drabble prompt: “Actually, I think this is the wrong way…”

By: @funkylittlebidiot (posted with permission).

(Also part 2 to the previous drabble)

They’d decided to meet up on Saturday, because the weekends were easiest for Scott. He usually took an early shift on Friday so he could get to bed before midnight, normalise his sleep schedule, and spend the entirety of Saturday and Sunday with his daughter.

Cassie had been excited to hear about his date. It hadn’t been information given freely, but his peanut had a way of dragging things out of him.

He hadn’t wanted to tell her because a part of him knew it was only going to be one date, and he didn’t want to deal with questions the next day if it were to go terrible.

He actually liked Quill, which was a strange thing as they’d barely talked. Ever since meeting on Wednesday night - more like Thursday morning - Quill had shown up for his shifts, though it hadn’t been much more than making out during Scott’s breaks and trying to have fleeting slivers of conversation.

He hadn’t learned a lot about him, as he’d often been distracted servings customers, but he’d found that he liked the way he felt when around him. Not just what he said, or how he’d made him laugh easily during the few seconds they could spare talking, but the way his chest lit up with his eyes on him, with the way Quill looked at him so appreciatively - like he was a work of art in the Louvre.

So, yes, he wanted this date to go well. Deep down he knew that he would love it, but he was most worried that Quill would realise what a bore Scott was.

His life was the bar and Cassie, … and oh God he didn’t yet know he had a daughter.

That realisation had him almost panicking, until he recognised that there were more pressing reasons Quill would want to give up on him after their date. Like how Quill could definitely do a lot better than him, how Scott was an ex-criminal and how he often told stupid jokes when nervous.

So it was going to be one date, Quill would recognise Scott was wrong for him, and they’d leave it at that. It didn’t matter that Scott had a child.

And so he hadn’t wanted to tell Cassie. But it had been hard dodging the questions that came every time Scott couldn’t help reading Quill’s texts as quickly as possible, or how he smiled like a fool when replying.

Their texts had been sparse. Mainly because Scott was too afraid to fuck up before their date had even started, and also because he felt bad being distracted from Cassie Time.

Quill never seemed to mind, which was strange to him but he appreciated it, nonetheless; another reason he was falling so quickly.

Ultimately, it was Saturday evening, and he had to say goodbye to Cassie to leave on his date. She wasn’t even mad about missing their usual movie night, which went to show how excited she really was for him. It was a little bit embarrassing, and it felt weird worrying about his appearance as he stepped out the door, but also exciting at the same time.

An entire evening - for better or worse - that he’d get to spend with Quill.

They met up in the city centre, using Jefferson Square park as meeting point. Scott was nervous waiting near the corner, looking around him for a man who honestly shouldn’t be so hard to spot. Tugging at his sleeve, he worried that Quill would stand him up, though he tried his best to dispel that thought.

Quill didn’t seem like the type. He was kind and respectful, and always seemed just as eager to spend time with or talk to Scott.

And if he was stood up….well then he probably dodged a bullet. What was he even thinking coming on this date anyway? He’d just end up hurt by the end of the night and get horribly de-

“Hi!” Scott jumped as he turned to face Quill, hoping his surprise at seeing him wasn’t too obvious.

“Hey,” he smiled hesitantly in turn. It was easy to relax with Quill standing next to him, looking down with that glint in his eyes that he always had.

“You look wonderful,” Quill smiled at him. Scott hadn’t been sure what look to go for, but he guessed anything was a step up from the t-shirts he wore to his shifts. He’d learned long ago that it wasn’t rare to get drinks spilled on you, and he generally didn’t have money to waste on shirts that would get ruined with alcohol stains the moment he stepped into the bar. The clothes he wore now had been left over from before he’d been sent to prison; the shirt was a little too loose now, and the sweater a little less soft than he’d remembered.

“Thanks. As do you,” he replied truthfully. He was glad to see Quill wasn’t wearing anything fancier than him, though he had still obviously put effort in his appearance. The thought made him smile, thinking of Quill wanting this date to go as well as he did. That maybe there was hope after all.

“So, where to?”

“Follow me,” Quill smirked, motioning towards the street to their left as he lead the way. Scott followed, glad to see the good mood he was in, happy to just hear the way his voice was filled with warmth.

They walked in silence for a while, which was kind of weird. He was not used to things being quiet around Quill. There had always been loud music, and when that had been dimmed by the walls outside, they had been touching, kissing and moaning.

Not that the silence was uncomfortable either, especially as Scott got to focus on the way their arms brushed together slightly with each step.

“So what do you do when you’re not stalking scrawny bartenders?”

“Well, I’m a bounty hunter.” Quill replied easily, looking ahead as he took a left turn.

Scott stared at him, barely able to not falter as he continued following him. “Oh…”

“Yeah,” Quill shrugged, “I’m in between cases right now, though.”

Scott didn’t know why it was such a relief to him. He knew there was no way there were bounty hunters after him, but it’s like that feeling you get when someone ‘needs to talk with you’. That anxiety you feel when going through airport security. Like all of a sudden a gun has found its way in between your boxers.

It was only a second later the worry flared up again. If he wasn’t worrying about how Quill would react to him being an ex-con before, he was sure now would be the perfect time to start.

“How about you?” Quill asked, glancing over at him with a twinkle in his eyes, “What do you do when you’re not serving alcohol to people who can’t stop looking at your ass?”

Unable to not blush, Scott looked away, chuckling slightly before answering. “Well, I usually just spend time with my daughter.”

“Sorry, that sounds lame,” Scott shook his head, not understanding why he’d even said that. He’d told himself not to talk about her, but so much of his life was tied to her, there wasn’t much left to say without it.

“It’s not lame at all!” Quill protested much to Scott’s surprise. He glanced back over at him, catching his eyes as he did. There was sincerity in his eyes, along with that usual warmth and appreciation. “Tell me more about her.”

Scott smiled gratefully at him, trying to focus on his eyes instead of the swirling butterflies in his stomach as he did as instructed. They talked about Cassie, about how she was caring and compassionate, loved animals - even bugs and spiders - and was always looking for adventure.

How he adored her, and how everything he was today was because of her. They got so caught up in talking that when their conversation finally died down, Scott looked around him curiously to find they had reached a more residential area, leaving the centre of the city behind them. “Are we almost there?”

Quill stopped, clearly startled by his question as he looked around too. Scott smiled as he noticed the frown form over his face before he blushed slightly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Actually… I think this is the wrong way… “

“Oh really?” Scott smirked, unable to keep himself from smiling. It was nice to know that Quill wasn’t as composed as he looked, good to know that Scott wasn’t the only one messing up. With every second he spend with Quill he started feeling less intimidated, Quill’s presence growing more and more familiar.

It was something he wasn’t used to, but it felt nice, calm, exciting.

“Yeah, sorry,” Quill grimaced through his apology, “I just recently moved here.”

“Oh? Where are you taking me? Maybe I can help.”

“I wanted that to be a surprise…”

Scott knew he was smiling too much around him, but he couldn’t help himself. It became too natural, like there was nothing else to do.

But though he recognised how adorable Quill was being, Quill quickly noticed the look Scott was sending him.

“Well alright I guess that’s not going to work.” He sighed regretfully, before shrugging. “I was going to take you to a place called ‘Brenda’s’. I heard it was good.”

Scott hummed, recognising the restaurant as he looked back the way they’d come. “Well, Brenda’s is way back. Might take us another twenty minutes. Or I know a pretty good taco place just around that corner?”

“Taking charge?” Quill grinned, making Scott blush slightly as he winked. “I like it. And I also like tacos. Let’s go.”

[noxxy-boxxy]

Hetabang time!

So, it’s finally te time to upload this! I’ve been waiting for this moment lmao

I wrote this and my amazing partner did a drawing of the last scene, but they haven’t posted it yet so imma wait till they do and tag them! 

Edit: Here is the artwork! 

https://aph-florida-shitposts.tumblr.com/post/616694960857710592/they-my-peice-for-the-hetabang-art-thing It’s made by @aph-florida-shitposts The artis amazing and everyone should go and check it out, period.

The meeting ended sooner that day. Thank God. 

Gilbert grabbed his laptop and his briefcase, stretching his neck until it popped. It was Friday, finally, and that meant a lot of things. It meant beer, a nice dinner, some of that leftover cake, and the best part:

"Gilbert! Buongiorno!" 

He could invite him for dinner. He could finally invite Italy for dinner and ask him that thing. 

"Hey, little Italy! Guten morgen!" He smiled, his heart almost doing a cartwheel when Feliciano kissed his cheeks. "What are you doing here? You're going to miss your flight." Even after saying that, Feliciano sat on the table, and Gilbert did the same, not interested If he missed his own. 

"I was looking for you." Said the Italian, and God, if he didn't die at that moment, he really had to be a tough one. His pale face took a very slight shade of pink, invisible to Italy. 

"Oh, so you were searching for me?" Gilbert said, his speech still perfect, his tone normal, but his face warming. Slow but steady. 

"Yes, I wanted to ask you something." Gilbert arched an eyebrow, blinking once or twice. 

«Keep it cool.» He thought, panicking internally. "Oh, yeah, whatever you want, little Italy. I'm all ears." And, to be honest, he didn't expect that much, but surely he didn't see that one coming.

"Can you help me with my paperwork?" 

Oh God, Italy was lucky he liked him. He wouldn't waste his weekend explaining paperwork to anybody, but him. He was the only exception. 

But now, he surely was going to be talking about boring numbers, when they could be having a delicious dinner and a delicious dessert. Amazing. 

Unless. 

"Come with me. We can stay together at my house and I can explain to you how I do my paperwork." He smiled, petting the Italian's head. "Then, we can have dinner together. I'll make some homemade pasta for you and we can have cake at the end." And that was the exact way to convince Italy. Gilbert smiled softly, seeing Italy jump from one place to another while he sang some song. "Okay, okay. Chill, Kleine. Don't hurt yourself." Italy stopped and grabbed his hand, tangling his fingers with his own. 

"I would love that, Gilbert!" He smiled widely, so beautifully. "Oh, Gil, you're red. Is something wrong?" 

"Uh, nothing..."

They were kneading the dough, and Gilbert was amazed at the way Italy did it. His movements were perfectly fluent, his voice hummed a soft song, his eyes half-open. He stopped for a second, pinching the dough slightly. 

"It's ready to stretch and cut." Prussia nodded, and then, they began to stretch the dough, making it thinner. Over, and over, and over again, until Feliciano felt like it was perfect. Then, they passed it through the cutter, making perfect spaghetti. 

"Perfect." Said Prussia, bringing a tray with flour. "It's ready to cook." Italy nodded, looking incredibly happy. They both went to the kitchen, where the water in the pot was already boiling. Italy added some salt, and then, the pasta. 

"It should be ready in two or three minutes. Could you check the sauce?" Gilbert nodded, and went to another pot, opening it and grabbing some sauce with a spoon. He tasted it, the flavor lingering in his mouth. It was absolutely... 

"Delicious." He said, smiling widely. "It's delicious." Feliciano smiled, looking at him, small little face so adorable. He wanted to take a picture, no jokes. Gilbert covered the pot, seeing how his hand trembled, feeling his throat tightening. «Everything is going to be okay.» He had to say to himself. 

And he really hoped it would be. 

"Well, I think it's ready to drain." He nodded, getting closer. Italy was holding a fork, where one string of pasta sat. "Could you taste it, Gil?" And he extended his hand, offering him not the fork, but the food. He had to stop a second, trying to gain control of his face, to avoid that God damned red. He got even closer, eating the spaghetti from his hand. 

"It's ready." He said, tasting it. It had the right amount of salt, and it wasn't incredibly soft, but a little bit chewy. It was perfect.

Italy drained it and put it in the same pot with the sauce. he moved it around with a pair of tweezers, and then, it was perfectly ready to eat. 

"Let's go. I'm hungry." Italy smiled, grabbing a bottle of wine and a bottle of beer. Prussia nodded, grabbing the pot. 

"So, did you understand that thing about your paperwork?" Italy nodded, smiling and grabbing his glass of wine. 

"Yes, thanks." He smiled, taking a sip of wine. "You're a very good teacher, Gil." 

"Oh, ask West or America, they'll probably have something else to say." He laughed. "I am a good teacher, indeed," he started, grabbing his bottle. "but I am not going soft on anyone. You're just a special case. Usually, I would be more strict and rude with any other. Only for you." And Gilbert smiled softly, booping the Italian's nose, making him laugh.

"I like you a lot, Gil!" He smiled, and Gilbert definitely felt something jump in his chest. 

"Ah, yea, ja." He mumbled, looking away. "Actually, little Italy... Feliciano" He whispered, taking a big breath. "I like you too. I like you a lot." And Italy didn't even flinch. 

"Yeah! Me too, Gil! You're an amazing friend!" Oh, no. 

"No, dearest. I mean, uh, I like you, like, more than a friend. I like you a lot more." 

"Like a best friend, then! You're my best friend!" And Gilbert rolled his eyes, but Italy kept talking before he could explain himself. "I wouldn't change you as my best friend for anything in the world! You'll always be the best friend I could ever have, and I hope nothing ruins our friendship!" For God's sake, Gilbert thought, almost speaking again. 

Unless... 

"You... Wouldn't want me to be anything more than... Your best friend? Only... That?" He said, his voice normal, but something was cracking. "Not even-"

"Always friends!" Italy interrupted him. 

Then, he understood. Italy was understanding what he really wanted to say, but he surely didn't want to reject him. He just wanted him to... Catch the cue. He only wanted him as a friend. 

He only wanted him as a friend. 

"O-oh, yeah. Always... F-friends." He whispered, forcing that painful sensation at the back of his throat. Not yet. "I should take you to the airport so you can go back, Italy. You're going to miss your flight." He said, getting up and grabbing his keys and his helmet. He went to the garage, putting the key at the contact on his motorcycle. "Move, Italy! We don't have all the time in the world!" His words sounded a lot ruder and mean, like if he was tired or angry. Obviously, Italy got scared, and just followed the orders. The garage door opened with the controller, and they went out. Suddenly, Italy had to hold himself again Gilbert, because hell, they were going 100 kph, and it was just rising. They arrived at the airport in 3 minutes, when usually it would take 15. 

"Let’s go." And as soon as they were on the ground they were running. Or well, he was almost running. Gilbert was just walking. Incredibly quickly. Gilbert had to buy the tickets for him because obviously, the people spoke German.

"Here. Have this." Italy grabbed the tickets with one hand, while he grabbed his document and passport from his briefcase with the other. 

"Is everything alright, Gil?" He literally had to take a step back when Prussia looked at him. His eyes were glowing. 

"I don't allow my own brother to call me by my name, Italy. You don't have that privilege either." He deadpanned. 

But... Italy wasn't dumb. At least, not when it came to feelings. Even if Prussia was "angry", he saw sadness. In his face, those eyes were not glowing, they were shining.

"Gilbert..." He whispered, trying to put a hand on his shoulder, but at that second, his flight was announced. Prussia didn't even say goodbye, he just left. 

His eyes were shining, yes. And he swore, he saw a tear leaving his left eye. 

«Is he sad?"

Gilbert went back to his house calmly. He entered and started washing the dishes. The leftover spaghetti was poured in a container and stored in the fridge, with the forgotten cake. Then, he went to the table, grabbing his bottle of beer. It was half full, but in a second, he drank the rest. The wine was stored in the fridge, and the glass... He literally spent half an hour looking at it, trying to go back in time, when he bought that glassware, the moment when he grabbed it from the counter, just some hours ago. That moment, when they were still friends. 

His knuckles turned white, and in a quick movement, he threw the glass against the floor, turning it to just useless shards. Panting, he kneeled at its side, slowly picking up the pieces, just hissing when one of them cut his finger. 

Wine stung, but the tears falling were even more painful. 

The meeting was in Berlin that day. Ironically.

"He didn't come today..." Whispered Italy, looking at the German's seat, unoccupied. In his place, Germany entered, even when he was, technically, on vacation. Apparently, though, he was not there for the meeting, because he wore just civilian clothes. 

"Italy." He said, looking at him. "Can we talk? Please?" Italy nodded, concerned. He looked slightly sad but he looked mad too. Something surely had to be going around the Germanic countries. "What happened last Sunday, Italy? When I came back, Prussia was devastated. And I mean, really, sad."

"I knew he was sad. We were just talking, and in a second he was suddenly really mad but really sad. I swear I saw him crying."

"What were you two talking about? Do you remember what you said or what he said the moment when he changed?" 

"We were talking about our friendship! I told him I liked him, and he told me he liked me too, but, like, more than a friend! Then I thought, well he wants to be my best friend, and then it went down really quick and he was like that in a second." 

Germany observed him for a second, and then he arched an eyebrow. 

I mean. He thought he was the clueless one, but even he would have understood that. 

"So. Let's set things clear. You said something like 'I like you', then he said 'I like you too.' Then you started talking about friends, but he said 'I like you more than a friend.' Then you started talking about best friends. Then, he was suddenly angry. Is that what happened?”

"¡Si Capitano!" Said Italy, smiling widely. And oh God, he thought he was the clueless one. 

"Italy, my dear friend." He started, taking a deep breath. He needed France. "Let's say, a man and a woman are together. And he says 'I like you more than a friend.' What would you think he's meaning?"

"He loves her!" Italy said, smiling. And he smiled and smiled until he didn't. "He... He loves... Her." Slowly, he whispered. 

"And what if he does things for her he wouldn't do in normal situations? Like, cooking for her, or allowing her to call him by his name, or taking the time to explain to her something slowly, when everyone would say he's a devil when he's teaching. Or calling her with endearments, when he doesn't do that. What would you think? Does he want to be her friend?" And Italy slowly came into realization. 

"Oh my God, I messed it up. I ruined everything. I wasted his time. I fell really low. I-" And Germany had to touch his arm, to prevent him from missing the line. "I have to go and talk to him." And he almost ran away, just in the for Ludwig to grab him and bring him back. 

"Do you have any idea of what you’re going to say, at least?" Italy arched his eyebrow, opening his mouth, but Ludwig spoke first. "He liked you even when we were dating, but he never said anything. He liked you since the beginning. And I can't risk you going there and messing it up even more because I haven't seen him this sad since 1945. He doesn't deserve so much pain, and I won't let you go there unless you know exactly what to say." He took a deep breath. "Do you like him? Not like a friend. Not like a best friend." And Italy, slowly, nodded, making him smile. "Give me a pen. I have to give you the address. He's not in Berlin, so you'll have to go now unless you want to miss the train that goes to Hamburg." Italy grabbed a pen, and Germany didn't even waste time on paper, writing it directly onto his skin. "Do you understand it?" Italy nodded, and flew, running to the train station, buying a ticket to Hamburg, and getting on the train in record time. He just hoped that there was still time for him.

He made it to Hamburg, and then, he started going around, trying to remember each street. He reached a big building of apartments and looked at the key in his hand. The door opened, incredibly, and then he started walking, trying to reach the apartment number 19. The door made a little sound when unlocked, and then he went in. 

«It has to be Ludwig's private department.» He thought to himself. Some books were easy to recognize for him because he saw them in his library. A jacket was on the sofa, he recognized it as Gilbert's. And there was a bed for a dog on the floor. 

He walked to the bedroom, and entered, finding him sleeping peacefully. 

«He's here...» He thought, slowly getting closer to him. He sat down on the bed, and at that moment, he woke up.

"What the fuck, Italy?" He almost screamed, going back. "What are you doing here? Get out!" Now he was screaming. 

"No!" Italy responded, but Gilbert didn't listen. He grabbed his arm, dragging him to the door, without paying attention to anything he would say. And when they were almost out, he stopped for a second. 

"What did you said?" 

"I'm sorry," Italy whispered, squirming in his place. "Prussia, my hand hurts..." And he left him to go. He dragged some tears left In his eyes, saying that again. "I'm sorry. I didn't know, I didn't understand at that moment. Please, forgive me." And his face was suddenly red, his eyes shiny again. 

"It's not fair, I try to get out, and you drag me back, you probably don't even mean what I think you're meaning. And I thought West was bad when it came to feelings." Italy grabbed his hand, pressing it. 

"I like you too." He said, feeling Prussia's hand tremble. "I like you. Not like a friend. Not like a best friend. I like you a lot. I just thought you weren't meaning it like that, or I was just a little tipsy and I wasn't thinking, but I'm sorry. For making you cry and for hurting you." And when he looked at his face, he was crying. "I'm sorry..." He whispered one last time, slowly touching his nose, and kissing him. 

It was something slow. Almost as if he was afraid of scaring him. He was suddenly so weak, so small. For a second he was a child again.

His hands just hung at his sides at the beginning, but then he slid them, right to his shoulders. They separated, looking at each other for a second. Then, Gilbert spoke. 

"I like you, Feliciano." 

"Me too, Prussia." Italy smiled. 

"Call me by my name. Please." But Italy didn't, because, of course, he had to kiss him again.

[smileyjaeminies]

The flirt with the biggest heart

Synopsis: You weren’t feeling so well, but gladly Nana was always there to comfort you. You leave yourself exposed to him, simply laying your heart at his feet. With your upcoming competition, how will everything turn out?

Word Count: 4,6k

Genre: slow burn, angst, fluff

Warnings: none

Member: 00z, ft. Yangyang

A/N: I’m so sorry these have been taking forever to come out :( I hope you like this, make sure you keep an eye out for the finale!

~Series Masterlist~

  School would be your demise. After spring had finally showed the face you liked, the carefree and shining side you always longed for, your dance competitions stopped you from truly enjoying her gift.

  Your competitions lasted for three weeks in total, which meant daily practices for everyone. This year, your number was intense with flips and jumps, difficult formations and sharp moves. You loved it though, you thrived within the hard beat and the long hours.

  Elena was always there to pull you out from your slump, helping you with homework and assignments and basically carrying your weight for almost a month. But she would never say a word, and you loved her for it.

  The first two weeks of your competitions had already passed, with the previous Sunday being victorious for you and your team as you got second place. You celebrated grandly at a pizza place downtown when the worst thing that could happen did.

  You got your period.

  Okay, maybe you were exaggerating a little bit, but this was no time for your body to be making its own battle against you. You needed every cell you had under your control and that was vital.

  After a quick word with your dance instructor, you both decided that it would be for the best that you stayed inside on Monday, to rest and gather your strength for a good practice on Tuesday. And then… Well, you’d have to see.

  Which brought you right to this moment, early Monday afternoon, all alone in your house, watching whatever popped up in your recommended on Youtube. You mindlessly watched video after video, just lying down and trying not to think about the searing pain that tortured your abdomen.

  The stillness of your room helped the stillness of your mind which for once decided to stop its racing; the numbness was welcome, an old friend you greeted at the door and bid to come in. You wrapped yourself in her arms, allowing her to lead you back and rest.

  Uncalled for, the ringtone of your phone disturbed the delicate balance. You debated answering for a few seconds but as you saw Jaemin’s name you knew that he wouldn’t stop calling until you picked up. You took him out of his misery, answering with a simple, “Hi Nana”

  “Y/N!!” he shouted.

  “I need to teach you kids to talk more quietly” you mumbled under your breath.

  “Y/N!!!” Jaemin repeated. “Today is Monday!!!”

  “I’m aware of that Jaemin” you replied.

  “You missed the club meeting” He said and you could distinguish the pout in his voice.

  “I know, I am supposed to stay at home and rest today.” You explained.

  “Are you sick? I heard you won yesterday, congratulations!” he said.

  “No, I’m just tired. And, yes we got second place, exciting stuff!” you answered.

  “Well, if you’re not sick, then I’m coming over! Movies and coffee afternoon, just the two of us!”

  “No coffee allowed, Jaemin” you informed him.

  “Why not?” he said, sounding hurt.

  “Jaemin, I’m having one of those days” you tried to explain.

  “Why? Are you feeling sad? Did Donghyuck say something to you?” He asked question after question as you chuckled.

  “Jaemin, listen to me, I’m having those days of the month…” you cut him off, explaining again.

  You heard him take a deep breath as realization hit him. He stayed quiet for a few seconds, and then:

  “Wait! No magic bean juice, like at all? No wonder girls are so grumpy when they’re on their periods!”

  “Nana!” you reprimanded him slightly.

  “Okay, okay. No magic bean juice… Snacks then?” he asked.

  You wanted to say no. You knew your dad would be furious when he came home and found a boy in his house. But it had been weeks since you had hang out with Jaemin and you missed him a lot. Just one movie wouldn’t hurt.

  “Alright. But bring me a lot of chocolate.” You requested.

  “Yes ma’am!” Jaemin answered, hanging up the phone.

  You managed to peel yourself off your bed and went to the bathroom to freshen up a little. You were looking pretty rough if you were being honest, but oh well, this was just Jaemin. You went back into your room and tidied it up, folding all your clothes and making your bed. The bell rang, announcing Jaemin’s arrival and you rushed to greet him.

  “Is this enough?” Jaemin asked, holding up a huge grocery bag.

  “It will do I guess” you answered him, grinning.

  After one tight hug and another round of congratulations on second place, you both made your way inside, getting comfortable under the covers. You tried (and failed) to convince Jaemin to watch a new movie that you were sure would get an Oscar nomination. But he wouldn’t budge.

  “Disney movies are like a painkiller! It will help with your cramps!” he insisted.

  “Oh please, we’ll shut it off before 30 minutes are up. Besides, I don’t even like Disney that much.” You countered.

  “Ha! Sure you don’t. Who are you kidding Y/N? You’ve picked up on every single reference I’ve made!” he scoffed.

  You blushed and chuckled at his words. Disney and Pixar movies were indeed some of your favourites. You could recite whole movies by heart, you knew every lyric and song. But you wouldn’t admit it to Jaemin.

  “Fine, fine! You win! Play the movie.” You told him.

  Jaemin bent down to press a kiss to your cheek, before grabbing your computer and finding the movie he wanted. You watched him, eyes filled with concentration as he went on about how he hadn’t watched the movie in ages.

  Soon enough, you found yourself wrapped up on Jaemin’s side, your favourite chocolate in your hands and the Disney movie filling the silence in the room. However, that didn’t last long.

  The movie Jaemin suggested turned out to be a total bore, so you shut it off only 20 minutes in. You had made a brand new playlist, its soft music now drifting through your laptop's speakers and dancing through the room. You had laid back onto Jaemin, and he was now playing with your hair. The gesture should've been intimate, but it was more comfortable than anything.

  Your thoughts drifted of course, to the boy next to you. Nana was playful flirting and rosy cheeks. Jaemin was constantly pushing the boundaries and a fluttering heart. Jaemin was the buzz of morning coffee, the heat seeping from it onto your palm warming up your hand and your heart.

  Jaemin was everything but routine. He was the unpredictable, racing through the night and screaming the lyrics to your favourite songs. He was sneaking into his parent’s liquor cabinet for alcohol, letting your insides burn with its fumes.

  Jaemin was the easiest person to love. He poured and poured his love onto anything his life touched and never held back. Jaemin was thinking about the consequences after the action.

  That's why, when your tears started to fall, you did nothing to conceal them. You didn't have to. Not with Nana.

  “You want to tell me what’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low.

  And so you did. You poured and poured your heart out to him. You left nothing out, from your breakup, to Renjun, then Jeno and Yangyang. You went over that dreadful afternoon with Kyle, how Donghyuck found you later. You talked to him about how scared you still were, how anxious and heartbroken and confused.

  He sat next to you and then continued to sit on your bed as you got up and started pacing around the room. He never said a word, he allowed you to talk for as long as you needed, to give him all the facts and details before he said anything.

  It took a while for you to sit back down at the foot of your bed, only to drop your face in your hands.

  “I’m such a mess” you admitted.

  “You want to know what I think? These are my friends after all” Jaemin offered. You only nodded slightly at his words turning to look at him.

  “I think if someone had caught feelings, you’d have known by now. The kisses were spontaneous and that’s why no one mentioned them after. And because you asked. You know us Y/N, all of us. Do you think we’d ever go against your wishes? Especially on something like this? No. None of us would, not even Hyuck.”

  “About the Kyle… situation. I wish you’d let me beat up his face. I may have tiny fists, but I’m sure if I took him by surprise… Whatever. You should’ve reported it. I understand why you didn’t, I do. But that was dumb baby, I’m sorry. The good thing is, he has drawn himself back into the fiery pit he likes to call home.” Jaemin finished.

  “His house is actually very pretty” you joked.

  Jaemin’s face lit up at your silly joke.

  “She jokes! Ladies and gentlemen, after an hour of crying, she jokes!” he teased you.

  He moved over on the bed, making his way next to you. He wrapped you in his arms in a weird embrace filled with arms and limbs and bodies. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

  “Nana?” you asked after a few minutes dragged on.

  “Yes?” he responded.

  “Can you come to my last competition on Friday? For moral support?” you asked.

  “I’ll be at the first row.” Jaemin agreed, running his hands through your hair.

  Your peaceful moment was interrupted by keys at your front door and your mother’s excited voice.

  “Shit. Mom’s home.” You mumbled under your breath.

  “Is that bad?” Jaemin asked.

  “Not that bad, unless Dad’s with her” you answered and paused to listen carefully for your father’s voice.

  Luck was on your side however as your Dad hadn’t returned just yet. Your mother called your name, announcing she’s back and you pulled Jaemin to his feet as quickly as possible.

  “Best behavior. Do not try to charm my mom or I will kill you. You say hello you DECLINE dinner and you’re out the door. Deal??” you turned to him.

  “Damn baby, are you embarrassed of me?” he asked, slightly hurt.

  “Not you…” you whisper under your breath, already pushing him out of the door.

  “Hi Mommy! Did you have a good day at work?” you greet your Mom in the kitchen, putting back some groceries.

  “It was okay. You know, work is work.” She answered as she hugged you.

  “Mommy, this is Jaemin. He came to keep me some company.” You introduced your friend.

  “Jaemin, it’s really nice to meet you! Y/N talks about you all the time!” your Mom said and you couldn’t help but glare at her.

  Jaemin however only shot you a funny look and proceeded to greet your mother kindly. He declined dinner like you asked him, but he couldn’t help charming his way into your mother’s heart. After he left, your mother wouldn’t stop talking about him, asking about him and going on about what a kind young man he was already.

  You didn’t really mind, on the contrary, you were glad your Mom had liked Nana. But the untold promise was that you wouldn’t talk about any of this in front of your Dad. Your father was… Old fashioned let’s say, so this was a strictly only girls topic.

  After helping your mom with the groceries, you excused yourself back to your room. Once you got there, you opened your phone, your hand hovering over the familiar username, before you took the next step and dialed his number.

  He picked up on the third ring.

  “Hello?” he asked.

  “Hi” you answered.

  “What’s up, Y/N? I missed you today… In fact, it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.” He scolded you.

  “I know, I know… That’s why I called… I have a favour to ask you.” You said.

  “Oh? Let’s hear it then!” he responded.

  “I need a good luck charm…” you trailed off.

  “The tables have turned then?” Jeno teased you.

  “They have… You think you could help a friend in a tight place?” you asked.

  “I’ll be in the front row” Jeno said, not hesitating.

  How ironic, you thought, that both of them had said the exact same thing. Or maybe it wasn’t ironic at all…  

  “You want me to bring everyone?” Jeno asked.

  “I already asked Jaemin and Yangyang is going to be there since we’re competing against each other. I doubt Donghyuck will be willing to come, so that just leaves Renjun. You should ask him though, maybe he’ll need a ride or something.” You finished.

  “I think you don’t give Donghyuck enough credit. I’m sure he’ll want to support you and Yangyang. Anyway, I’m going to ask.” Jeno said.

  “I think you forget that Donghyuck hates my guts but oh well! Ask away! Maybe he’ll come for Yangyang.” You replied.

  Jeno mumbled something under his breath that sounded a lot like “Typical”. He brushed it off right after however, hanging up the phone.

  After talking to both Jaemin and Jeno, you felt significantly better. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders, first by Jaemin’s wise words and comforting hugs. Second, the weight was shared with the knowledge that Jeno would be there at your last competition, knowing exactly what you were feeling and helping you through it.

---------------------------------------------------------

  The day of the competition arrived sooner than you thought. Elena drove with you in your Dad’s car, holding your hand throughout the ride and sharing her earphones with you. Calm, comforting music rushed through them into your ears, but your mind was replaying the beat you would be dancing to in a few hours, going over every move.

  Once you stepped foot at the venue, you were met with the familiar rumble of the competition. You signed some forms and you headed straight backstage to meet your instructor and the rest of your team. You were carried away for a warm up as you had to rehearse on stage soon enough.

  Rehearsals were a blur, your mind failing to concentrate at more than one thing at a time. Your instructor scolded you slightly but stayed reassured that you’d keep your head in the game for the actual erformance.

  Backstage, Elena scooped you up in her arms, reassuring you that you did great and that you hadn’t shown anything yet. You calmed down after a bit, still sharing Elena’s earphones and keeping your hands together in a tight hold.

  Before long, Elena led you to a make-up stand and got to work. As an artist, Elena had her way with make-up, producing looks that you couldn’t even dream of. She even helped you tie your hair back in a tight ponytail to match everyone. When she finished, she didn’t allow you to look at the result, but helped you get into costume first.

  Once your whole outfit was complete, you walked in front of a full length mirror. The result was outstanding. Your outfit fitted you well, the black and red contradicting each other. Your eye look matched the outfit, red eye-shadow dancing over your eyelids with a fierce cat eye completing the look.

  You hugged Elena and thanked her a thousand times for her help. You had begun to really calm down, a tranquility taking over you. You decided to look for Yangyang and soon enough you found his group’s dressing room and made a beeline to his arms.

  “Are you sure you’re Y/N? You look amazing!” Yangyang complemented you, twirling you around.

  “Elena does work wonders, what can I say!” you said.

  “Well Elena clearly needs to do my make-up as well! You think I could steal her for a while?” he asked, turning to Elena.

  “You want your make-up done? Really?” Elena asked.

  “I don’t have the words toxic masculinity on my vocabulary, ma’am. I’d be honored.” Yangyang replied, and you had never felt more proud.

  Elena fumbled for words for a few seconds before ushering Yangyang to a seat. You talked with both of them and Cat, Yangyang’s official girlfriend now, for a while before Elena turned to you.

  “You know, it’s getting late, if you want to see the boys, you better get out now” she said.

  “You’re probably right. Yangyang, don’t you dare move before I check the final result. I’ll be back in a second.” You announced, taking your leave.

  You walked out of the dressing room and headed to the stage. Taking out your phone, you saw a message from Renjun.

    Junnie

Hey Y/N! Traffic is being a bitch so we’ll be there in like, 10 minutes. Wait for us!! We want to give you good luck hugs!

  You

I’ll be waiting! Tell Jeno to be careful, you have time!

    After replying to Renjun’s message, you decided to step out anyway, to get some air and talk with some of your friends. You were introduced to some people from opposing teams and you were currently discussing the judges when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

  You were surprised to find Donghyuck smiling at you once you turned around. Quickly composing yourself, you tried to hide your nervousness as you greeted him. You almost screamed when he bent down to give you a hug and wish you good luck.

  “So, what do you think about today? An easy win?” Donghyuck asked.

  You were still perplexed by his hug and his overall nice demeanor before you answered.

  “Winning is never easy. All the teams put in a lot of work, or else they wouldn’t be here.”

  “Here, here tiger, no need to get defensive. Besides, I’m supporting two teams today, aren’t I?” he asked.

  “You don’t mean to make me believe that you’re here to support me, are you?” you asked him in return.

  Donghyuck’s face flashed with emotion.

  “Why not? Aren’t you my friend?” he asked and you could hear the hurt in his voice.

  “I don’t know Donghyuck… Are we? I mean, you always have some snarky remark to make about me day in, day out. You don’t even allow me to call you by your nickname while everyone and their mothers do… I’m not sure that’s friendship.” You replied.

  His face flashed with emotion once again. He took a few seconds to gather his thoughts before saying:

  “You know Y/N, that’s…” but you wouldn’t find out what it was.

  A huge burden was pushed on top of you as two strong hands lifted you up and twirled you around. Laughter erupted from you as you heard Jaemin praising you. All of the boys gave you their ‘good luck hugs’ and you spiraled into conversation with them.

  Donghyuck wasn’t excluded from this, but your moment was clearly over. Renjun was talking about your make-up and Elena’s skills and the others were asking you how long it would take you to perform. They almost made you dizzy, all talking at the same time but you didn’t mind; not at the moment.

  You kept stealing glances at Donghyuck and you would always find him staring right back at you. It made you nervous and it made you blush, but you couldn’t even pretend that it was a bad thing.

  Not long after, your teammates had to separate you from your friends. You hugged them again and you even got a kiss in the cheek from each of them for good luck. You promised to convey the same message to Yangyang and you were off.

  Backstage, it seemed like everyone was moving to every direction. People were talking loudly, making last minute checks and changes. You headed straight to Yangyang’s dressing room, to grab Elena and reunite with your team.

  “So, what do you think?” Yangyang asked, facing you.

  You were shocked. He was all angles, high contour on his cheeks and bright orange eye shadow around his eyes.

  “Yangyang you look…” you trailed off.

  “Show stopping? Spectacular? Like the man of your dreams?” he offered.

  “Beautiful” you said.

  “I know right? It’s hardly fair, my own boyfriend is more beautiful than me” Cat teased, smiling at Yangyang.

  “I could never” Yangyang answered.

  “Yeah, yeah, you’re in love okay OKAY. Don’t you need to go?” Elena said, turning to you.

  You nodded and hugged both Yangyang and Cat, exchanging good lucks. You finally stepped back in your team’s dressing room. Your instructor reprimanded you for being late, but you hardly listened. The blood in your veins had already begun to boil, the familiar buzz of the upcoming performance taking over you already.

  There were only about 10 teams competing, your team taking the number 8 spot. Not too early, not too late. You were restless, pacing up and down the small room and annoying your teammates. Elena managed to pull you down on your chair as yet another group took the stage.

  Your eyes were glued to the screen. They were good, too good. They moved as one, never missing a beat. The strong choreography worked amazing, their formations tight and moving around all the time. As they finished, you all took looks amongst yourselves. These people were the real stars of the night and the crowd went crazy over them.

  Next was Yangyang’s group. You found Yangyang and refused to take your eyes off of him. He did well, really well. He was nervous though and you could tell by the way he would keep looking at his teammates to make sure his position was correct. You could feel he was extra nervous in the couples’ part. But his hard work paid off. He didn’t make any mistakes you could see and overall their performance was very well structured and interesting.

  Before you even had time to process the performances, it was already time for you to standby. Elena pestered you with hugs and whispered soothing things in your ear, but you were buzzing. It was hard for you to stay still once again, and you felt your hands shaking uncontrollably. Your teammates moved around you and it was already time for you to step on the stage.

  The bright lights blinded you, but your mind was finally still. The music flowed through you, your body moving on its own accord. You were focused and not at the same time, moving right on the beat but without fully understanding what you were doing. And just like that, it was over.

  The cheers were deafening and with a simple glimpse at the crowd, you failed to see your friends. Your teammates pulled you backstage and a river of hugs and praise came over you. Elena jumped in your arms and praised how focused you were. If only she knew…

  Slowly but surely, the high of the stage left your system. You remained in your seat as the two teams left performed. Then, it was time for a short break for the judges to decide on the three best teams.

  Nervousness seeped through you once again. Elena had a tight grip on your hand and you felt dizzy, getting hotter and hotter, your back sweating. Before long it was time to go back on stage for the results to be announced.

  “I’m scared” you whispered.

  “It’s okay. You’re going to be fine” Elena tried to console you.

  Your friend Alex dragged you back on stage. You were standing amongst the rest of the teams and you were on the edge of your toes.  You tried to look for the boys to no avail; they were either too far away, or you needed contacts.

  The judges took the stage and seconds seemed to drag into hours. Third place was announced. It was Yangyang’s team. You let out a small scream and you couldn’t hold back the huge smile that took over your face. He did it. The idiot did it. As they raised their trophy, your eyes filled with tears. It felt like your own win.

  It was time to announce first place. You took a deep breath. It wouldn’t be you. You had settled within your heart that this wasn’t a winning day and it was okay.

  The envelope was opened and the name was called. Your group’s name. Your groups name. You’d won. You were pushed in a sweaty and smelly group hug, as tears left your eyes. You were full on sobbing as you saw the trophy being pushed from hand to hand until you were holding it.

  First place. It felt like a dream. Your mind was hazy as the team that ranked second, the “stars” like you had named them, gave their speech. And it was over.

  The crowd flowed on stage, loved ones finding loved ones and hugs being exchanged everyone. You stood frozen in the back of the stage. First place.

  Your name was called from somewhere. Your mind registered it, but your body failed to move at the sound.

  “Y/N!” You heard again, and finally your head moved towards the sound.

  Jaemin ran over you, arms extended. He lifted you up screaming in your ear.

  “FIRST PLACE! Y/N OH MY GOD, I CAN’T BELIEVE IT, YOU DID IT”

  His loud voice quieted down to a whisper as you sobbed silently into his shirt. Low words of praise filled your ears as several pairs of arms rubbed your back, trying to calm you down. You grabbed fistfuls of Jaemin’s shirt in an attempt to ground yourself, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

  After a while, you were finally able to move away from him and into the rest of the boys’ arms.

  “Oh, your little cry baby” Renjun said, hugging you tightly.

  “Good luck charm worked” Jeno said, giving you his signature eye smile and keeping you close.

  “You were amazing up there” Donghyuck said and hugged you tightly. You felt dizzy again. Your mind finally decided to start working, only to note that he smelled like the sea.

  “Y/N! There you are!” Yangyang shouted, running up to you, Cat and Elena not far behind him.

  You jumped onto him without second thought, screaming.

  “YANGYANG! YOU DID THAT! I, I’M, OH MY GOD, I’M SO PROUD OF YOU” you screamed, squeezing him tight.

  “ME? FORGET ABOUT ME YOU IDIOT, YOU GOT FIRST PLACE! I CAN’T BELIEVE IT!!! Y/N YOU GOT F I R S T” Yangyang screamed back.

  You went over each of your steps, each praising the other.

  “Although I love the spirit” Renjun interrupted, “Wouldn’t you want to celebrate somewhere more private?”

  “Re- group for burgers downtown?” Jeno offered.

  Everyone quickly agreed and you went backstage to change. Your dad picked you and Elena up, driving you back home for a quick shower and change of clothes. You headed downtown and met the boys in front of your favourite burger place.

  The night was easy going, a celebration with the people that mattered the most to you. Squeezed in the booth between Donghyuck and Yangyang, you laughed and enjoyed your food. All your senses were heightened to Donghyuck moving and laughing next to you. You tried to take your mind away from him, but your gaze would always go to your right, where Donghyuck was usually looking right back at you.

  That night, you hardly got any sleep despite being tucked inside your warm covers. Your mind was replaying the events of the day in an endless loop, the high of being on stage, the thrill of coming first, being in Donghyuck’s arms, the way the area around his eyes creased when he laughed.

  You were going crazy. There was no other word for it. You were going crazy over a boy that only recently stopped hating your existence. Great. You were screwed.

[vexedtonightmares]

La Fin Des Temps Chapter 19 (Elu Hogwarts AU)

Mardi 17:21 - “The chosen one”

Eliott had practically been living in Lucas’ dormitory since Friday night, and Lucas was glad for it. Thankfully, none of his roommates had complained about it, and it's not like they weren't already used to living with four other people and their pets anyway. What was one more?

Eliott also hadn’t been back to class yet, but he’d talked with the headmistress about the plans that had been made without his consent to send him to St. Mungo’s. She’d reluctantly agreed to let him stay at school and gave him a week long grace period to get back into the swing of things, not fully understanding how difficult that might be. At least it was something, Eliott had told Lucas before burying his head in Lucas’ chest the night before.

Lucas had been cautiously optimistic all weekend. He and Eliott had basically spent the entire day in bed on Saturday, not talking much, kissing every once and awhile, mostly just cuddling and falling asleep in each others arms. Eliott didn’t smile easily and Lucas knew not to take it personally, that this was something Eliott would have to go through, but at least he knew now that he wasn’t alone.

Sunday Eliott had felt good enough to move down to the common room, spending most of the day with his legs draped over Lucas or playing with Ouba while Lucas worked on his homework. The smiles were still few and far between, but when they came they lit up the entire room. Lucas did everything he could to make sure Eliott knew that he didn’t have to pretend at all, that he could let him know if things were too overwhelming or if he just wanted time to himself. Things had been so good on Sunday that Lucas had been unprepared for Monday.

He’d planned to skip his classes to stay with Eliott, but when they woke up in the morning, Eliott had snapped at Lucas and shut him out completely, leaving Lucas conflicted. On one hand, he wanted to be there for Eliott, but on the other, he didn’t want to smother him with unwanted attention. He’d eventually decided to go to class, leaving a note for Eliott and trying his best to get on with his day.

The boys had noticed his uneasy demeanor, and had encouraged him to take some time for himself. Yes, Eliott’s health and wellbeing was important, but so was Lucas’. He couldn’t put his entire life on hold to take care of Eliott who, from his earlier comments, hadn’t wanted to be taken care of all the time anyway. Basile had shared some more experiences about his life with his mother, and it had allowed Lucas to exhale and gain some insight into how he should approach their situation. The last thing he wanted to do was act like a parent to Eliott, but he still wasn’t certain how to strike a balance between caring too much and too little.

That night when he’d returned to his dormitory, Eliott had been absent, leaving a note that he was sleeping in his own room. Lucas’ heart had sunk upon reading it, but maybe it was a good thing. Maybe Eliott needed alone time to feel a bit more like himself. Fuck, Lucas really had no idea what he was doing. But that’s ok, he’d told himself. He didn’t have to know how to handle everything in his life perfectly all the time, as much as he wished he could.

By Tuesday morning, Lucas had still been a mess, but had accepted the fact that he may very well feel like that for quite some time. Maybe that made him less of a mess than he thought.

When he got back to his dormitory after classes he sent Eliott a simple message telling him that he hoped he was doing well and to let him know if he needed anything, hoping it would suffice. Arthur had said he’d been sleeping in the Ravenclaw dormitory all day, so Lucas wasn’t expecting a response, at least not a quick one.

He flopped back onto his bed and pressed his hands over his eyes, sighing deeply. Pulling out his phone, he scrolled mindlessly through his Instagram feed to distract himself.

He sat up in his bed as he looked at the last picture, posted from the account he and Eliott had made for Brian as a joke. The timestamp said that it had been posted minutes ago, which meant that Eliott was probably awake and, from the looks of it, on his phone. As if the thought had prompted a response, Lucas’ phone vibrated with a new message. He took a moment before looking at it, not wanting to appear like he had been staring at his phone waiting for a response.

srodulv: i’m doing ok. can we talk?

Lucas bit the inside of his cheek, mulling over a proper response in his head. He knew that the words can we talk shouldn’t strike such a chord of fear inside him, but wasn’t that what people always said when they were going to break up? The past weekend had its ups and downs, sure, but he’d thought that they were at least on the same page, relationship wise. Maybe he was just overthinking.

lucallemant: Of course, do you want me to come to your dormitory?

srodulv: actually, could you meet me under the stadium?

lucallemant: In the place I took you to?

srodulv: yes.

srodulv: i hope that’s ok…

lucallemant: Of course it is, meet you there in 5?

srodulv: meet you in 5

A part of Lucas was deeply satisfied that Eliott had felt a similar connection to his refuge, while the other part remained worried, especially given Eliott’s cryptic and somber responses. He stood up, looking around for his favorite hoodie to throw on before he went outside, brows furrowing when he couldn’t find it. Maybe Yann had taken it or something. Instead, he found one of Eliott’s hoodies lying on the edge of his trunk, basically asking for him to wear it. If he was lucky, Eliott wouldn’t recognize it and he could keep it for as long as he wanted, relishing in the scent.

He became more and more anxious as he made his way to the stadium, conflicting emotions running through his head. By the time he arrived he nearly felt like he was going to piss himself, which probably wasn’t a good thing but he couldn’t help it.

“Eliott?” he whispered, lighting his wand. It was still light out, but the area under the stands was always a bit dim, even when the sun was high in the sky.

“I’m here,” Eliott responded, stepping into Lucas’ view. Oh, so that was where his hoodie had gone. Lucas knew that wasn’t the reason Eliott had asked him here, but he couldn’t help but be dumbfounded for a moment by how good the hoodie looked on Eliott. He could find a different favorite hoodie if Eliott agreed to wear this one forever.

“Hi,” Lucas said, stepping closer. His gaze flickered down to Eliott’s lips, then back up to his eyes. Eliott’s gaze was resting on a point just above Lucas’ head, something Lucas noticed that he tended to do when he was uncomfortable.

Eliott finally brought his eyes down to rest on Lucas’ face and his whole expression softened a small amount. “Hi.”

“So what’s up?” Lucas asked, trying to sound casual. The last actual words they had exchanged hadn’t been entirely civil, at least on Eliott’s part, and while it had taken Lucas a total of ten minutes to forgive him, he wasn’t sure Eliott knew that.

As if he’d read Lucas’ mind, Eliott sighed, “I’m sorry, for yesterday. You didn’t deserve that.”

Lucas shook his head immediately. “It’s fine, Eliott, I get it.”

“No, you don’t.” Eliott’s voice was soft, but firm, a bit like he was frustrated and dejected at the same time. “And it’s not fine. No one should treat you like that, and you shouldn’t just accept it.”

“Eliott, I promise, it’s ok,” Lucas emphasized, “This is all just a bit new to me, which is ok. New doesn’t mean bad, it just takes getting used to.”

Eliott scoffed ruefully. “You say that now. I won’t always be nice to you, or anyone, like I was yesterday. It hurts me inside after the fact, but in the moment I don’t care as much. It’s a big part of why Lucille and I aren’t as close as we once were. I mean, we’re still pretty close, but the relationship will never be what it was. Somewhere along the way she became my mother or my nurse, not my best friend. I can’t let the same thing happen to us. “It won’t,” Lucas promised.

Eliott blinked up at the ceiling. “And how do you know that? Will you say the same when I lie to you about taking my meds? Because that will happen. It’s why all this happened in the first place. I tend to do it when I feel good, and I feel good with you.”

Lucas reached up to cup Eliott’s face with his hands. “I feel good with you too.”

Eliott shrugged out of Lucas’ grip, walking around him to lean against one of the stadium’s support beams. “Maybe, but it will change. I know it will. And it will be my fault. I--” he broke off, tears filling his eyes. He coughed, continuing in an unsteady voice, “I don’t want that. It’s the last thing I would ever want.”

“You don’t know that,” Lucas cut in, adapting Eliott’s earlier statement.

“Lucas--” Eliott tried, but Lucas wasn’t done.

“You don’t know that. Some dark wizard might come and invade the school tomorrow, then none if this will matter at all. Sure, that seems pretty unlikely, but it doesn’t mean it could never happen. And on the other side, just because something seems likely to happen in your mind, that doesn’t mean it’s set in stone. I’ll fuck up too, I’ll yell at you, I’ll get angry and ignore you, and I’m not even bipolar.” Lucas looked into Eliott’s eyes pleadingly.

Eliott just shook his head. “Lucas, you don’t understand.”

“Yes I do, Eliott. So what, you’re bipolar? So what, you experience some emotions a bit more than everybody else? Maybe that means you get angry with me more often than I get angry with you, but if that’s true then that means you also probably show me more love than I could ever even try to show you. And it’s not because I’m not trying, either, you just experience life and love a little bit differently than I do, and that’s ok. It’s ok. We are who we are, and we just have to accept people as they are. Understand them instead of trying to change them. I’ll fuck it up sometimes, and so will you, but all that matters is that we’re trying.” Lucas took a step towards Eliott, a tear forming in the corner of his own eye.

Eliott was silent, but didn’t argue as Lucas lifted his arms and wrapped them around Eliott’s neck, pulling their faces close together. “I’d rather have you annoy me or make me angry than not have you at all,” he said softly, with a feeling that he couldn’t totally identify.

The corners of Eliott’s mouth turned up into a hesitant smile and he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead further into Lucas’. Lucas’ heart pumped steadily against his ribcage, threatening to burst its way through as a wave of love surged through him at the sight of even such a small smile. It was the most genuine one he’d given in weeks, since before their night in Paris. The first time they’d said I love you.

Lucas brushed his thumbs on Eliott’s cheekbones, and Eliott opened his eyes. “From now on, we’ll just take things day by day, ok?” Lucas suggested. Eliott didn’t look totally convinced, so Lucas shook his head, amending his statement. “No, we’ll take it minute by minute. Minute par minute, if you prefer,” he added, smiling.

“Minute par minute,” Eliott repeated.

“Minute par minute.”

They look at each other for a moment, neither one saying a word. Lucas loved moments like this, where the two of them just existed together. It was these moments that Lucas could convince himself that they were the only two people left on Earth, soulmates from the beginning of time to the end. “La fin des temps,” he said finally, and Eliott’s expression closed off somewhat.

“It doesn’t have to be a bad thing,” he decided, and Eliott’s face went from shameful to a bit curious. “La fin des temps means the end of time, sure, but it can also mean that’s how long I’ll love you. Until the end of time. It’s you and me, me and you, from now until la fin des temps, if you’ll have me.”

Eliott’s eyes shone as he gazed deeply into Lucas’ eyes, and, by extension, his soul. “I’ll have you. Of course I will.”

“Until la fin des temps?”

“Until la fin des temps.”

Eliott’s first kiss was soft, a bit unexpected, and it warmed Lucas from head to toe. There was a hesitancy to it, and that was part of what made it so special. There was no reason for either of them to be hesitant with one another, but they both respected the other enough to try, knowing that their relationship had a lot of room to grow from where it was now. Now was good, though, now was exactly what it was meant to be.

Lucas put his hand in Eliott’s hair on the second kiss, letting Eliott know that yes, this is good, I love this, I love you. Eliott’s hands cupped Lucas’ face on the third kiss, confirming that he knew what Lucas was feeling and that he felt the same. On the fourth kiss Lucas forgot that his lips were meant for anything other than kissing Eliott. On the fifth, Eliott thought the same thing. They broke apart after the sixth, gazing into one another’s eyes before Eliott wrapped his arms around Lucas’ head, and pulled him into the crook of his neck, laughing softly. It was the most glorious sound Lucas had ever heard.

“You’re beautiful when you laugh,” Lucas murmured into Eliott’s skin, not even knowing if Eliott had heard him or not.

A few smiles and a lot of kisses later, they emerged hand in hand, finally ready to take on the world and to take it on together. The Slytherin team was emerging from the changing rooms as Lucas and Eliott made their way across the field, earning them confused looks.

“All good?” Charles asked Lucas as he walked by, and Lucas nodded.

“Don’t worry about it,” he reassured him, and Charles nodded once, narrowing his eyes, before turning back to his team and letting Lucas and Eliott walk the rest of the way across the field without interruption.

“Want to go back to my common room?” Lucas asked as they made their way back into the school. Eliott squeezed his hand, though Lucas didn’t know if it was meant to be a response or not.

“Aren’t your roommates sick of me?” Eliott asked.

Lucas scoffed. “Please. As if anyone could ever be sick of you. Also, they all like you better than me anyway, so there’s that.”

Now it was Eliott’s turn to scoff. “Please,” he imitated, “What’s not to love about a grumpy hedgehog?”

“That’s what I’m always saying…” Lucas joked, smiling as Eliott laughed though his nose, squeezing his hand more intentionally this time.

Lucas was surprised to find most of their friends lounging in the common room as they entered, all of them looking up and grinning when they saw the two of them together.

“Did I miss an invitation of some sort?” Lucas asked, making his way over to where the boys and girls were gathered and talking. Daphné perked up and widened her eyes at him. “No, but it’s good that you’re here. We could use your insight,” she said excitedly.

Eliott sat in the single empty chair in front of the fireplace scooting over enough that Lucas could sit with him. Lucas merely raised his eyebrows before sitting on Eliott’s lap, legs stretched out over the armrest. Eliott chuckled and wrapped his arms around Lucas, placing a small kiss in his hair before tuning in to the conversation.

“We’re planning something special for the inter-house unity club this Friday. The weather is supposed to be nice, so we were thinking of doing something outside, but we don’t know what,” Daphné explained.

“I voted party,” Alexia chimed in.

“We all did,” Emma added, laughing.

Daphné huffed at both of them. “Parties are not what this club is about.”

“There is no better way to unify the houses than a party,” Lucas pointed out, and Arthur quickly picked up his train of thought.

“Whenever there are parties, they’re always house specific, you know? Quidditch parties, house cup parties, whatever. They’re always in the common rooms, and they’re always limited to one house. Why not have a party for everyone?” Arthur suggested.

Daphné considered the idea carefully. “That’s a good point…”

Manon glanced at Lucas while Daphné weighed the idea, nudging her head up at Eliott, who wasn’t really paying much attention anymore, focused on playing with Lucas’ hair. Lucas smiled softly at her and glanced back up at Eliott. She grinned back, shooting him a covert thumbs up that he rolled his eyes at, but was appreciative of all the same.

There was a sudden absence of Eliott’s hands in his hair and Lucas looked up at Eliott again out of curiosity, but Eliott was just fiddling with his phone, typing something before setting it aside. Lucas wondered if he’d maybe reached back out to Idriss and Sofiane, but then he felt a buzz in his pocket. An Instagram notification from Eliott, who avoided Lucas’ gaze innocently as Lucas opened it.

It was a photo from their night in Paris, one that Lucas hadn’t entirely understood why Eliott had wanted to take it so badly. The caption explained it all, though. Sens de la vie, meaning of life, minute par minute, and la fin des temps. Without saying anything, Lucas pulled Eliott into a chaste kiss, letting him know that the message he’d chosen to write in his caption was exactly how Lucas felt as well.

“Get a room, please,” Imane said from across from them. Lucas flipped her off before pulling Eliott into another kiss out of spite.

“Forget house unity, our party should be a celebrating Elu party,” Alexia suggested, earning quite a few confused glances. She rolled her eyes and explained, “Oh come on. Elu? Eliott and Lucas? It’s their couple name.”

Lucas laughed quietly into Eliott’s chest and Alexia grimaced at him. “It’s not my fault you guys stole the ‘best couple’ position from Manon and Charles.”

“Hey!” Manon exclaimed, hitting Alexia playfully.

“Elu,” Eliott mumbled softly so only Lucas could hear, “The chosen one.”

“Hmm?” Lucas asked.

“In French. Elu can be translated to the chosen one in English.” Eliott’s face was radiant and soft at the same time, and Lucas fell in love for the millionth time that minute. “Because I choose you,” Eliott continued, “I’ll always choose you.”

Lucas’ heart was going to burst, and he wasn’t even a little mad about it. “I choose you, too.”

It was the easiest decision he’d ever made, even though it was a decision he’d actually made weeks and weeks ago. Because Eliott also gave his life meaning, because they’d both decided to take things minute by minute, and because all of those moments, all of those minutes would take them to the end of time.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16

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[kaibacorpintern]

@emblematik requested “yuugi + datebook” and i was like “hm interesting” and then a few minutes later i was like “oh shit... IDEA.” 

no joke: i wrote 90% of this on my phone. i just checked the word count and it’s 2000 words. lol. casual rivalshipping, but it’s not about that. post-DM. enjoy the feels x

MONDAY, 8:26 AM

Yuugi sat cross-legged in the soft, shallow cradle of his bed, half-asleep, phone in his hands. Anzu was on the other end of the video call, wandering through the New York apartment she shared with four other girls.

“ -- so they come bursting out of the egg, and that's just how the show starts. It gets loonier from there. But it means every week, she has to make another big-ass papier-mâché egg for her guest performer, and this week, that’s me. Hey Tiff, love the space buns,” Anzu said, turning to someone out-of-sight, and Yuugi heard a voice call back, in a cheerful sing-song, thaaank youuu!

“So you're helping her make the egg?” Yuugi said.

“Yeah, she calls it 'laying the egg.’ Performance artists are so weird,” she said, as Yuugi grinned with delight. “Anyway, gotta run. Can you do next Sunday?”

“Let me see,” Yuugi said, leaning over to swipe his weathered datebook off his night stand, the pages dogeared with almost a year's worth of use. A blank datebook he'd filled out from June to June with every notable hour of his life, using a pen he kept tucked in the binding. He'd spilled water on it a few months ago and the pages had crinkled as they dried. Now it refused to sit flat, with gaps that rippled between the pages.

He held the phone in one hand and flipped clumsily through the datebook with the other, spreading it open on his thigh. After that Sunday, there was one blank week left in the datebook. “Nope, I'm booked. Let's just do Monday again.”

“Works for me,” Anzu said. “Love ya! Bye!”

“Love you too, have fun laying your egg,” Yuugi said, and she flashed him an exasperated grin. The screen went black, and a dreamy silence descended on Yuugi’s bedroom once more. Yuugi flopped back down into bed with a contented sigh, tossing the phone onto the nightstand. He held the datebook over his head, his week carefully penned in. Class, his shifts at the game shop, and on Tuesday, he was seeing…

TUESDAY, 6:37 PM

“Fuck,” Jounouchi said, staring in bafflement at the cards lying face up on the playmat between them. They sat at a long, wooden table on the airy patio of a cafe, with vines flowing thick along the walls, the cards illuminated in the soft, inviting light of the lanterns strung across the space. “How did you win? When did you win?”

“A few turns ago,” Yuugi confessed, idly churning the ice of his Italian soda with his straw. “But you had me on the ropes for a while there. If you played your Time Wizard combo a turn earlier, I would've lost.”

“Damnit! I knew it,” Jounouchi said, thumping his fist firmly on the table. “I keep forcing myself to wait. I just don't wanna blow it again, like Nationals.”

“I think your nerves are making you doubt yourself,” Yuugi said. “Your instincts are strong. Just listen to them, and you'll do fine.”

Jounouchi, gathering up his cards from the playmat, glanced up at him, the lantern light giving his faint blush a rosy glow.

“See, how the heck am I supposed to attack you when you say things like that?” he said. “Maybe I should get a practice duel with someone who actually pisses me off. Hey, ask your pal if he'll duel me.”

“My pal? Is that what he is?” Yuugi said, lifting an eyebrow as he reached for his phone; then he changed course, tucking his hand into the messenger bag at his feet and ferreting out his datebook. He checked the date. “I'm seeing him tomorrow, actually. I'll just ask.”

“Perfect. How's your Sunday looking? Honda said he’ll have my Duel Disk fixed by then.”

“I have plans already,” Yuugi said, dropping the datebook back into his bag and leaning back in his chair.

“Oh, okay, Mr. Popular. Don't forget I leave for the tournament Friday after next. That's in your book, right?” Jou said, and Yuugi hummed in reply. Mm-hmm. Then Jou leaned forward, resting both elbows on the table and his chin atop his hands, fixing Yuugi with a roguish look. “Who is Kaiba, if not your pal?”

Now Yuugi couldn't help but blush, his skin warmer than the summer air. “Uh, he's…”

WEDNESDAY, 9:57 PM

Sitting next to Yuugi on the couch, one bent leg tucked underneath him and one arm slung over the back. Studying the screen of Yuugi's laptop as Yuugi scrolled through the lines of code he'd abandoned, several days earlier, at dawn, surrendering to the frustration of a long and fruitless all-nighter. Lucky for him, Kaiba liked nothing so much as telling people they were wrong, why they were wrong, and how to stop being wrong.

Kaiba leaned closer, frowning intently, his force of presence buffeting Yuugi like a wave. A good wave, dense and heady, fragrant with his cologne. He had many, many things to say about object-oriented programming, all of which Yuugi had listened to very carefully, and none of which he'd actually heard.

“I found your problem,” Kaiba declared.

“Thank God, this assignment is driving me nuts,” Yuugi said, sighing with relief. “What is it?”

In response, Kaiba reached out and shut the laptop with a firm whap. “You’re distracted.”

“I am not,” Yuugi said.

“Tell me what I just said about using global variables.”

Yuugi bit his lip, scrambling through the last five, ten, fifteen minutes for whatever Kaiba had said about global variables, and found… nothing, except a keen awareness of the way Kaiba was staring at him now, leaning his cheek against his loosely curled hand, a wry smile tugging on his lips. 

“Uh,” Yuugi said after a moment, realizing he’d fallen neatly into the usual trap. “Don't?”

Kaiba snorted. “When is this due?”

Yuugi leaned forward, momentarily escaping the weightless swell of feeling in his chest, and plucked his datebook off the coffee table from where it lay beside his textbooks. “In a week.”

“Alright. I have a few hours on Sunday or Tuesday. When would you like to waste my time next?” Kaiba said, with a sort of laid-back disdain.

“I think I’ll squander your Tuesday,” Yuugi said, tugging the pen free, scribbling a note. He set both laptop and datebook on the coffee table and settled back, deeply, breathlessly aware of Kaiba's gaze on him, tracing lines of fire up and down his body.

“So,” Kaiba said, a low, teasing growl, his mouth inches from Yuugi's ear. “What is so distracting to you?”

“Nothing,” Yuugi said, smiling, about to vibrate out of himself with impatience. “You have my full attention.”

“Good,” Kaiba said, and the next thing Yuugi knew he was swept up in a dark rush of warmth, Kaiba pressing a kiss like a hot, wet star to the curve of his neck. He fumbled blindly with one arm, catching Kaiba by the back of his head, pulling him down as he twisted and fell backwards along the couch.

He huffed, a wordless plea for mercy, as Kaiba mouthed along the shell of his ear, making scandalous suggestions with his tongue, clearly enjoying himself.

“Problem solved,” he said smugly, and Yuugi groaned, laughing.

FRIDAY, 4:13 PM

A gentle chime broke through the cool, quiet air of the game shop. Yuugi, wandering the shelves with his scanner, conducting inventory, pulled his phone out of his back pocket.

RYOU: finished writing my new campaign!! want in?

YUUGI: duh

what days are u thinking?

RYOU: sundays? that's when everyone else is free

YUUGI: i can do sundays, but not this sunday

RYOU: not a problem. we can start next week. any plans?

The question turned over in his chest like a stone, a tremendous weight, heavy and slow and dull. Yuugi stood motionless, staring down at his phone, the scanner dangling in his limp hand and the silence of the store falling over him like a shroud.

But he shook it off. Ryou had given him the idea.

YUUGI: I’m going to the park with my datebook, you know the one

RYOU: oh

please send him my best

YUUGI: i will!

is this the space campaign you were telling me about?

Pulling out of the subject like pulling a boot out of the mud, with staggering release. Yuugi resumed his task of taking inventory, stopping every so often to answer Ryou's excited texts about Eldritch horrors and homebrew campaigns.

That night, he lay in bed and discovered the stone was still there, cradled in his straining ribs. So he opened the skylight in his bedroom, inviting the summer night to flow in. It sprawled open above him, hot and dark and flecked with stars, vibrating with the hum of cicadas hidden in the trees. The summer spinning its promise into a refrain. Every new day, each blank page of his datebook, beckoning him forward.

SUNDAY, 11:00 AM

Yuugi awoke to a bright, beautiful June morning, sliding his feet into the secret pockets of cool still tucked away between the sheets. The skylight in his room revealed a clear, hot sky.

He flew through the rest of the morning, as light and taut as a kite, unburdened by exhaustion or idleness. On a whim, he opened his laptop, giving a quick eye to his assignment; Kaiba wouldn't bring up global variables for no reason… and the solution presented itself, like a closed fist turning over to reveal the prize in its palm.

He didn’t cancel on Kaiba. They’d waste time some other way.

Buoyant, he left the house, with his datebook and a lighter in his bag. There were two stops to make before the park: first, a cafe, for an iced coffee, and second, the neighborhood bookstore, where he bought a brand-new blank datebook.

Then he began the long, pleasant walk down to the park, his phone on silent. The whole of Domino was cast in a drowsy summer light so smooth and liquid he wanted to cup it in his hands and drink it, to feel it run sweet and pure through his veins. Neither his mind nor his route wandered from their destination: the plank bridge in the park.

It sat in an isolated corner of the park, a leafy, overgrown grotto dappled with sunlight. The long pond slowed to a mirrored stillness here, cooled by the shade of the trees. Insects hummed in the foliage. As Yuugi stepped onto the plank bridge, the hollow thunk of his foot sent some small, shy creature plunging for safety into the water, leaving only ripples behind.

He knelt on the plank bridge and opened the old datebook, taking a moment to transfer the last remains of his schedule into the first week of the new datebook. His class schedule, his work schedule, his weekly call with Anzu, Joe's tournament dates, the new campaign. All of it carefully penned in.

Then he leaned over the edge of the plank bridge, seeing his reflection on the surface of the water. It was harder with mirrors: they were too crisp, too defined. They showed him nothing but his own face. But if he unfocused his eyes a bit, if he took a deep breath and snapped the last piece into place and made a wish, the face on the water wavered. Just enough to believe.

“I miss you,” he said, to the water. “I miss you every day. I still feel you… gone, here.”

He made a fist, motioning to the center of his chest. An absence with weight; a nothing and a something all at the same time. The kind of puzzle Atem would love.

There was nothing else to add. He’d said most of it already, last year and the year before. They would see each other again, some day, and he had long since understood that he was not meant to wait and he was not meant to run. He was meant to stay right here, in the heart of his own life, and feel it beating.

Yuugi readjusted, sitting cross-legged on the bridge. He flipped through the datebook, going backwards to the beginning. The memories burst open inside him, as raw and fresh as a ripe fruit, swollen with color and feeling. Deadlines for that art history class. Flying out for Anzu’s solo show in December. His first date with Kaiba, sometime in March, although neither of them realized it was a date until the morning after. CHAMPIONSHIP!!, on a weekend in September, when Jou had swept the Pan-Pacific. The pages were as crisp and dry as autumn leaves; they'd burn well.

He turned to the first page.

“Here’s what you missed,” Yuugi said, and began to read.