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writtenwhalien · 6 months ago
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jump then fall (into you) | part 2
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banner by the talented @jimilter​ 💖
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pairing ↠ jungkook x reader
genre ↠ cruise AU, fake dating AU, best friends to lovers AU | fluff, angst, smut
word count ↠ 52k (pt 2. 14k)
18+ | warnings ↠ swearing, drinking, sexual content: foreplay, oral m. and f., protected sex etc.
summary ↠ bringing Jungkook along as your date to your ex’s lavish cruise wedding seemed like a perfect idea at first — all of your family and close friends together, nothing can go wrong… then Jungkook’s ex shows up and all of a sudden you’re in a years long relationship with him. You don’t mind though, really, how hard can sharing a cabin and pretending to be deeply in love with your best friend really be?
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note. i hope you're enjoying! ☺️ don't forget to interact please + here's a few songs that inspired me and this story (more at the end too!): photograph — ed sheeran i think i fell in love today — kelsea bellerini where are you now — lost frequencies & calum scott 3:15 (breathe) — russ words — alesso & zara larsson jump then fall — taylor swift
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part 2
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🍉 note. while I have your attention, I would like to divert it to those in palestine as israel commits war crimes against them. Innocent men, women and children are being tortured, degraded, displaced and murdered endlessly — it is a genocide and we are all complicit if we do nothing.
as a minimum, please donate to legitimate organisations + boycott the big 3 — starbucks, disney and mcdonald’s — as well as others. feel free to message me for more information and/or donation links, thank you <3 🇵🇸
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You know what he wants you to say, but as you feel his fingers around yo, all you can think of is how wrong they feel — they’re not as long as the ones you’re most familiar with, not as calloused on the palms  or soft from the back. Every moment with Jungkook from the past few weeks buzzes through your mind and it all starts to make sense – you’ve always known Jungkook makes you happy but you never thought about why…
Looking up at Lawrence, you nod slowly. “Yes,” you say, softening the words in the hopes it softens the blow.
It’s a quiet confession, not only because you’re pretending to date Jungkook, but because now you’re no longer sure if your heart is open to anyone else besides him.
Lawrence smiles, releasing a small breath he’d been holding. “I had to ask,” he chuckles.
You’re sure his cheeks are turning pink but with the dim lighting, you can’t be sure. 
Lips pursing, you nod.
There’s another moment of hesitation from him, then he kisses your cheek once before stepping back. 
“I’m glad I asked though, I’d probably regret it forever if I didn’t,” he adds, eyes gleaming as they look over your face. 
You manage to smile despite feeling bad and a little awkward now — it’s not every day someone confesses to your face like this. “It’s okay, I get it.” 
Just while your mind races to find an excuse to leave now, Lawrence’s gaze shifts to behind your shoulder and his eyes suddenly widen, face going somewhat pale. You turn around, eyes following his line of sight and when you see who’s standing there, you’re sure your expression mirrors Lawrence’s. 
Jungkook and Alias stand more than a few feet away by the staircase towards the upper decks, but it’s not hard to see their expressions from here. 
Alias purses his lips and looks at Jungkook before he shifts his weight awkwardly. But it’s Jungkook you’re focused on. His expression is blank and he just stares at Lawrence and you.
How long has he been standing there? Why isn’t he doing anything? And why do you only now realise how close you and Lawrence are still standing while holding hands too? 
You let go, stepping back abruptly too but you know it doesn’t make a difference. 
Jungkook's lips curl into a curt yet polite smile before he turns and disappears around the corner. 
What the hell is happening? 
Jungkook and you aren’t even dating for real for this to be a problem so why on earth does it feel like you’ve actually done something so wrong?
The guilty feeling in your chest grows as you stand still, still looking upon where he was.
“I’m so sorry,” Lawrence apologises immediately. “I can go talk to him, it was all my fault.”
“No it’s fine,” you shake your head, managing a smile. “I should talk to him, don’t worry.” 
He nods and you walk away before he can say anything else.
“Walk with me?” you say as you approach Alias. 
He nods, falling into stride beside you. “What was that about?” he asks, nodding back in the direction of Lawrence.
“Um, he told me he likes me, or at least did,” you wince. 
“Ah, that explains it.”
You shoot him a look. “That explains what?”
Alias hesitates. “Well, he looked like he was about to kiss you.”
Oh gosh. “But he wasn’t!” you exclaim in a hushed whisper. “I wouldn’t do that!” 
“I know!” Alias exclaims too, “But it still didn’t look good. I’m assuming that’s why Jungkook just left.”
“You think he’s upset by it?”
“Well what else could it be?”
Sighing, you slow down. 
Alias looks at you confused. “What’s wrong?”
“What am I doing?” you ask rhetorically, thinking out loud.
Raising his brows, Alias points down the corridor. “Finding your boyfriend to explain what’s happening?” he says almost sarcastically. 
“But that’s just it, he’s not actually my boyfriend so why did he walk off? And why do I feel bad about it?” You feel like you sound a bit helpless but at this moment you don’t actually care, at least not with Alias. 
It’s confusing — first you find yourself having all these weird moments with Jungkook, then Lawrence tells you he likes you only for you to realise that maybe you actually do like Jungkook, and now Jungkook walking off like this…
Could he actually be upset by this?
Alias’s expression softens and he places his hands on your shoulders, squeezing gently. “I think you know why.”
You frown, lips pouting. “What are you trying to say?”
He chuckles, pulling you in for a hug. “I’m not saying anything. You’re figuring this out on your own.” He pulls back and takes your arm in his as he walks slowly down the corridor again. “Now, what are you going to say to Jungkook?”
His question is met with silence, but he doesn’t push any further as you take the time to think. 
You’re well aware of what Alias is trying to say to you but there’s a part of you that doesn’t want to acknowledge it — more like you don’t know how to acknowledge it. 
Maybe you do like him? Or maybe you’re just confused? It could definitely just be lust, or even just loneliness as it has been a long time since you’ve last been with anyone. Or maybe all the pretending has gotten to your head? — that’s definitely a plausible reason for the way you’re feeling. 
Although, it really doesn’t feel like it. There’s a reason pretending to date Jungkook comes so easily to you. Being with him is natural to you because you’ve always felt like you belong together; now you realise you’ve been feeling that romantically not just platonically. Having been so close to him for so many years has created a safety blanket around you, one that you can’t imagine living without and most definitely can’t ever replace. Even the thought of coming on this trip without him felt so wrong. There must be a reason why it doesn’t feel surprising to you that at some point, your feelings crossed the line from friends to something more.
“I don’t know,” you groan quietly. “This is so weird, what does someone say in this situation?”
Alias actually takes a moment to consider this. “Actually,” he starts, pulling on your arm to stop walking. “You need to be sure of how you feel before you say anything.”
He’s right.
“Take some time,” Alias says. “Maybe just address what happened with Lawrence for now?”
You nod. “Okay, I’ll just tell him what happened.”
“Yeah, do that,” Alias nods too. He looks down the corridor but makes no move to walk any further with you. 
Your cabin is only a few doors away so you hug him goodbye, and after he wishes you good luck, you make your way towards it.
Clearing your mind, you focus on the simple goal for now. Just let Jungkook know that there’s nothing between Lawrence and you — what he saw isn’t what it looked like. 
Tapping into your room, you feel your heart race a little faster as your nerves rise. Jungkook isn’t anywhere in the cabin but you can hear water running in the bathroom. 
Taking a deep breath, you mentally scold yourself to get it together. Some of your clothes from earlier in the day are still scattered on the bed so you decide to at least clear these away while you wait. 
It isn’t long until you hear the lock clicking and Jungkook walks out of the bathroom. 
You look up to see him patting his face dry with a towel. He’s already dressed for bed and you note that he’s wearing a top this time. 
When he sees you, his face shows no surprise or even much emotion at all. He simply nods and averts his gaze almost immediately. “Hey,” he says, tossing the towel into the laundry basket. 
“Hey,” you respond quietly while keeping your eyes on him. 
He walks over to the bed and starts picking up some of his own mess. If the situation were any different, you wouldn’t really think anything was wrong by the way Jungkook is acting. But you know Jungkook. 
For starters, he never folds his clothes neatly before putting them away. He usually just roughly puts them together and hides them away somewhere, yet here he is, laying out a shirt and folding the sleeves with much focus.
“Um, Jungkook…?”
He looks up immediately. “Yeah?” There’s no irritation or anger or anything else in his expression. Just the usual concern you’re used to seeing on his face whenever you call him. 
“Are you okay?” you ask, feeling stupid as soon as you ask it. 
“Yeah, of course,” he answers, shrugging as he resumes folding his clothes. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” 
“Good.”
Turning away to put your clothes in the drawer, you frown to yourself. You know he knows why you’re asking — him walking off like that wasn’t normal and now him acting like nothing’s happened…
“So,” he says, clearing his throat. “You and Lawrence…”
There it is. You turn to face him again. He’s still looking down as he folds his clothes but you don’t need to see his face to know he’s not looking forward to the answer. 
“You like each other?” His voice is steady but you can hear the quiet reservations that come with it. 
“No,” you answer immediately. 
He pauses for a second and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. He only nods and carries on putting his clothes away. 
You tell him everything. “We bumped into each other during the game because I was kind of confused about where to go after me and you split up. We just started talking and it came up that I used to have a crush on him way back in high school, and as we spoke…” you watch Jungkook carefully, still unable to see his face as he stays looking down, “… he just ended up telling me how he used to have a crush on me when we were growing up and it apparently never really went away.” 
It’s now that Jungkook finally looks up. He has a small smile on his face — not a smirk, not anything to show you it’s anything other than a genuine smile despite it not being his usual smile that meets his eyes.
“So Lawrence likes you then.” He says it more surely, as though he’s just reaffirming a fact rather than asking a question. 
You hesitate. “Well, yes, he does but he knows I don’t like him.”
As his smile fades a little, Jungkook raises a brow. “Are you sure?”
“Positive,” you say, feeling something heavy begin to weigh down your chest. 
Jungkook considers this. His gaze is steady as he looks at you from across the room, looking for any clue that might suggest otherwise to him. 
The longer he stares, the more you feel the weight on your chest. You don’t like this — you don’t like that Jungkook could even think for a minute that you like anyone else. Since high school, you haven’t had any real feelings for anyone and as Lawrence made you realise, it’s all because of Jungkook.
“Jungkook?” your voice comes out coarse and quiet. 
He looks away, jaw shifting as he now chooses to roughly fold his clothes together. Then — 
“I think we should stop the whole dating thing, it was my fault so I’ll tell whoever I need to tomorrow.” He says it clearly and decisively. “I don’t wanna hold you back, you should give Lawrence a chance.”
With a scoff, your brows knit together and you frown at him. “I just told you, I don’t like him.” 
“He was your high school crush for years, you’ve always wanted this.”
He says it so nonchalantly now and it makes you angry because you know just moments ago he was upset because of this. Sure, he didn’t say anything, but Jungkook is your best friend and you know him more than anyone else. 
“Well not anymore!” you blurt. “Why don’t you believe me?”
Jungkook looks at you and immediately you can recognise the small signs of him feeling hurt but he does well to disguise it as best as he can. “I saw how you looked at him that night, Y/N. It was pretty clear how smitten you were, anyone could see it.”
Immediately, you’re confused. “What are you talking about?” 
“Cartagena,” he responds, almost despondent. “You came out of the venue together and it was clear from your face that you were over the moon to have him there.”
Now you remember… and devastatingly enough, you realise Jungkook isn’t wrong. You remember how you felt when you initially bumped into him — it was a childish kind of excitement when seeing your crush but that’s all it was. Seeing him just brought back memories and that small part of you came out because it had been so long but since then you know there’s been nothing. 
Jungkook, however, wouldn’t know that. You realise that you must’ve looked how he’s describing and gosh, you can’t even imagine how you’d feel if the roles were reversed. 
Before you can ever try to find the words to explain how you feel, a knock sounds at the door. 
Jungkook is the one who answers it since you’re still too caught up in your thoughts. 
You even remember how you’d stupidly been flirting with him right in front of Jungkook, you pretty much called him ‘tall, handsome and mysterious’ when you were supposed to be “dating” Jungkook– 
“Lawrence.”
You turn immediately at the sound of Jungkook’s voice. Sure enough, Lawrence is standing there in the doorway looking exactly as he was when you left him. 
“Uh, hey,” he says, nodding awkwardly as he glances between Jungkook and you. 
You just stare at him blankly. This really doesn’t help you right now. 
“Hey,” Jungkook says with a smile, resorting to his usual politeness. “What’s up?”
Lawrence hesitates, still glancing between you both. “Sorry, I was thinking about whether or not I should come but I figured the sooner the better… uh…” he looks down, clearly feeling bad. “I just had to apologise, I told Y/N about how I felt and that was inappropriate and stupid of me when she’s with y—“
“We’re not together.”
Lawrence looks up and at the same time, your eyes snap to Jungkook. 
If you thought him saying that was harsh, the blank way in which he says it hurts even more. 
“We never were,” Jungkook says. “Y/N just agreed to help me out by pretending to be my girlfriend because my ex is on this trip.” 
Lawrence’s face changes from confusion to surprise to realisation within a few seconds. But you’re not looking at him. 
Your focus is solely on Jungkook. You can’t clearly describe what emotions you’re feeling. There’s a bit of everything — it hurts, that’s for sure, but you’re also angry at him for so rashly telling Lawrence and you can’t help but feel betrayed. 
Pretending to date Jungkook has been nothing but easy for you and these past few days have taught you it’s because there’s probably a huge part of you that wants this. For Jungkook to just end it so suddenly makes you feel like he doesn’t want you the same way you want him. 
You wonder if it’s naive to think he wants you back, but you do. Alex has told you countless times, heck all the Cirillo siblings have made a remark or something about Jungkook and you at least once every time you’ve met. Even Lawrence has seen it apparently. Though, none of this necessarily means it’s true. 
With the silence in the room, Jungkook looks at you. He holds little emotion in his face but the way his lips are pursed tightly tells you he’s holding back something. 
“Uh,” Lawrence glances between you both, “I’m gonna go. Sorry again for everything,” he adds in a mutter. He closes the door as he leaves and you’re left alone with Jungkook. 
“Why would you do that?” you ask as soon as the door clicks. 
“Because he likes you. I’m not gonna stand in the way of that.”
Your expression falters. Fuck, it’s been a long time since you last wanted to cry but you’ll be damned if you let him see you. Steeling yourself, your jaw clenches.
Despite your best efforts, of course, Jungkook still notices. His own steely expression softens and he almost says something but then stops. For a second, you think he might apologise and even tell you something you want to hear. But he doesn’t. 
“What am I supposed to do?” Jungkook asks softly.
There’s a hundred other things he could do but he chose this — even after you’ve told him how you feel about Lawrence. 
“Fine,” you flare. “Tell everyone.” Without another glance at him, you walk past him to the bathroom and slam the door shut. 
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It’s only after a quick shower and some much needed TLC, that you come out of the bathroom. 
Truthfully, you didn’t expect Jungkook to still be in the cabin, but it doesn’t make the feeling in your chest go away when you see he’s not there. 
There’s so many questions going round and round in your head that it hurts. You trudge across the room, slipping into the bed and finding solace with the comfort of your silk sheets that still smell of Jungkook. 
Everything Alex said to you at the start of this trip keeps replaying in your mind — you want it to be true, and sure most of the time it feels true too. But with the way this past hour has gone, you can’t help but doubt it. 
If Jungkook really liked you, he wouldn’t have told Lawrence the truth, would he? It doesn’t make sense, why would he? He should’ve wanted to have kept it up the same way you do. Pretending to date Jungkook is as close as you’re getting to the real thing and that’s something that you’re sure that you want. 
Now though, you don’t even have that. 
It’s not exactly something you can blame Jungkook for. There was no reason for him to keep it up, especially if you haven’t told him why you want to. 
Maybe you should tell him now though?
No. That’s too scary. Sure, you want him to know, but the idea of him not feeling the same way is way worse than anything else. Plus, what if he starts to feel uncomfortable around you, you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if he felt that way. 
Releasing a heavy sigh, you sink further into the bed and close your eyes. 
You shouldn’t say or do anything else until things go back to normal. That’s the best thing to do. 
With your mind made up, you try to fall asleep but it proves to be more difficult than normal. With every minute that passes, you wonder where Jungkook is and what he’s doing. It’s only been 15 minutes but you’re already deciding whether or not you should message him. 
It’s always been like this with Jungkook — your arguments never usually last longer than a day and most times you settle them straight away. 
This feels different. 
The sound of the door clicking open simultaneously relaxes you and raises your heart rate. 
As Jungkook makes his way across the room, your heart decides to do all kinds of acrobatics. Inwardly, you curse at yourself for not realising your feelings sooner. 
You can hear the sound of his shirt being pulled off as he changes into his pyjamas. A moment later, he’s carefully moving the covers back on his side of the bed as he gets in slowly so as not to wake you. 
Moments pass in silence and you wonder if he’s fallen asleep, but then…
“Y/N?” His voice is barely above a whisper and just like that, your heart jumps again. 
Instead of responding, you turn around to lie on your back. As you lower your hands to your side, you accidentally brush his hand. Reflexively, you move your hand to rest on your stomach instead. 
Noticing this, Jungkook turns to look at you. You’re sure he can’t see you very well in the dark but with the white of the ship’s exterior safety lights coming in from the gaps in the shutters, it’s still easy to see fairly well. 
For a brief moment, he doesn’t say anything and you don’t turn to look at him. Then, he looks back up at the ceiling too. 
“I’m sorry,” he says, sounding deflated.
It hurts you to know he’s feeling bad about something that isn’t even his fault. If it wasn’t for the way you’re feeling, you wouldn’t care about him telling Lawrence and you wouldn’t have argued with him for him to be apologising now.
“It’s okay,” you respond quietly, finding it too hard to find the words to say anything else.
“No, it’s not,” Jungkook sighs. “I shouldn’t have done that without asking you, especially since I made you do it in the first place. This whole thing was stupid, I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
“You didn’t make me do anything,” you mumble as his last words play over in your head – this whole thing was stupid. “It was Alex.” Does he really think it was stupid? It never felt stupid to you, it just felt right. 
“Yeah, but it’s because of me it happened and I could've stopped it.”
“I didn’t mind…” 
You feel lame saying it because the real reason you didn’t mind is because it was the closest you’d get to dating Jungkook, but you say it because you don’t want him to feel bad about any of it.
“I know,” he says softly in understanding. “I think it’s just best to tell everyone it wasn’t real.”
You haven’t experienced anything like this before – there’s a heavy feeling in your chest trying to fight its way out. It’s causing the lump in your throat and you can’t tell if you want to cry or just tell him the truth right here, right now. 
But you don’t. “Okay,” is all you say.
He must hear something in your voice – he’s attuned to every frequency of yours and the emotion that comes with it, just as you are with him. You know how sad you sounded just then and undoubtedly he’s picked up on it.
He looks at you, trying to analyse your features in the dark. Then, his hand moves and you feel his palm closing around yours, pulling your hand between your bodies to rest on the bed with your fingers intertwined. “Again, I’m sorry.”
You’re looking at him too now. Have his hands always felt this warm? Have they always fit into your own so perfectly? 
“I know, it’s okay,” you answer, still fighting that feeling in your chest.
His brows knit together. “You promise?”
“I promise.”
Gently, he squeezes your hand and his features relax.
That feeling in your throat pushes harder and you realise you want to tell him. Maybe it’s because it’s dark right now it seems easier to let the truth out, almost as though it’ll stay a secret in the dark. 
“Also,” he says, voice suddenly softer, “for what it’s worth, I think Lawrence is an amazing guy.”
All other thoughts come to a halt in your mind and you swallow hard. “Why are you saying that?” 
Jungkook looks back up at the ceiling and when he talks, it’s a little quieter than before. “Just, I know how you used to feel about him and if he feels this way about you now, well, it could be good for you,” he adds with a shrug. 
You’re unable to mask the frustration in your voice.  “I already told you,” you say, “I’m not  interested in him.”
Jungkook looks at you again with his brows furrowed in concern. “I know…” he hesitates with a sigh, “I just…” 
“Forget it,” you mutter, pulling your hand free from his. “I’m going to sleep.” 
Jungkook says nothing as you roll over with your back to him, and you say nothing else either. 
The feeling in your chest has subsided but it’s been replaced with another feeling, more like an ache which you’re determined to sleep away. 
It feels almost impossible as your thoughts stream endlessly through your mind, each and every one about Jungkook and the words that you’ve left unsaid. But somehow, at some point, the thoughts slip away as the weariness of the day takes over and you finally fall asleep. 
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It’s hot. 
Jungkook pushes you hard against the wall, his thigh parting your legs as he grabs your waist tight. His breaths are heavy as his nose skims your neck, teasing you before he settles in the sweet spot behind your ear. 
You’re just about managing to hold yourself up though if it weren’t for his grip on you, you’re sure your knees would give way. 
There’s barely any material separating you from his thigh and you’re desperate for some friction down there. With your arms around his neck, you rock yourself against him to find some much needed relief. 
You’re moaning and Jungkook chuckles, a sweet deep sound that makes you want more, and he gives it to you as his hand slips between your legs.
Gosh it’s hot.
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It is hot. 
That’s the first thing that your barely conscious mind picks up on. 
It’s the middle of summer–you don’t know why you can feel the weight of the blanket on you. You dimly remember getting under it when you got into bed but normally you always stick a leg out or something before going to sleep. 
You try to move your leg now to push it past the covers and out into the cool air, but it doesn’t budge. 
Something is in the way. 
Still half asleep, you try again as you think it’s just the covers tucked under your leg — only now you realise that’s not the cover, it’s another leg and it’s not yours…
You didn’t realise something was missing when you were falling asleep a few hours ago. Why would you? You were completely preoccupied with other things to have remembered it. 
It’s now that you come to your senses and realise what’s happened — you forgot the pillow. 
You forgot the pillow as a physical boundary between Jungkook and you, and now the exact thing you wanted to avoid is happening. 
Jungkook’s warmth surrounds you from everywhere. His breath is gentle and quiet by your neck, his chest close to your back and his legs are somehow tangled with yours. His arm is draped over your frame, hand resting comfortably by your stomach. 
What’s most obvious to you though, is your ass tucked comfortably against him, no doubt right against his crotch. 
Fuck. This is simultaneously a dream and a nightmare. It feels so good to be this close but you know it’s so wrong, especially after the actual dream you just had which given your situation now, explains why you’re still feeling so needy down south. 
You try to shift slightly again but it doesn’t work — Jungkook sighs softly in his sleep, leg moving to rest on top of yours. 
Great. Now you’re actually stuck like this. 
Eyes closing, you try to think of what to do but as you run it through your mind, you come to the conclusion to stay exactly as you are. 
How bad can it be? With the sun shining through the cracks in the blind, you can tell it’s probably 10 am so all you have to do is pretend to fall asleep again, Jungkook will wake up very soon, he’ll realise and then he’ll just move away. Then it’ll be as though nothing ever happened. 
Besides, it really does feel so good to have him holding you like this. Sure, Jungkook hugs you a lot and in general is pretty affectionate with you but this. Having him softly breathing down your neck as he sleeps comfortably with you in his arms — it’s a feeling that satisfies something you never knew you needed. 
The only problem is it’s more than a little difficult to fall asleep when you can feel the hard outline of his little friend down there. Fuck, life is really testing you right now and it really doesn’t help that your pyjama bottoms are silk so you can feel a lot more of him than expected. 
Groaning internally, you try to scoot away once more but it doesn’t work. Not only that, you actually didn’t just groan internally but out loud. You almost clap your hand over your mouth when you feel Jungkook shift behind you once before going still again. 
Except this time, you can’t feel his warm breath on you for a second… then it comes back, but this time it’s different. You’ve spent enough of your lifetime with Jungkook to know that he breathes heavily when he sleeps and right now, he’s no longer asleep. 
You’re not quite sure what comes over you, maybe it’s the heat getting to your head, or maybe you’re emboldened by the fact that Jungkook is awake and he hasn’t moved away from you… ever so slightly, you push your hips back against Jungkook’s crotch. 
A sharp intake of breath from behind you confirms exactly what you wanted to know. 
You do it again and this time, Jungkook reciprocates in kind. You can feel him even better now and the hard outline of his dick pushing against you makes you let out the softest whine, barely audible but with Jungkook so close to you, there’s no doubt he heard you. 
Fuck. You feel almost dizzy and you’re certain that you’re not thinking clearly right now – this is Jungkook, your best friend… you try to remind yourself of that as you wait for him to do something more, but the only thing that repeats in your head is this is Jungkook. Jungkook, the man you love and adore so much and right now you can only think enough to know that whatever is happening right now, you want it. 
With bated breath, you wait for what feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds, then Jungkook’s hand slides from across your stomach to hold your hip.
“Y/N?” 
His sleepy voice so close sends a swirl of excitement through you. 
“Yes?” you answer in a breathy murmur.
“I…,” he whispers, barely audible. His hand slides up your side, stopping below your breast. 
You can tell he’s hesitating to move further so without hesitation, you roll your hips against him which elicits small moans of pleasure from both of you and in response, Jungkook’s hand begins to move again and you’re anticipating the feeling of his strong hands grabbing on to you where you want them so bad–
Knock knock knock knock knock. “Sleepy heads, what time do you call this?!”
– Only to be interrupted by the one and only Alias. 
Immediately, Jungkook withdraws and moves faster than you can even process. He’s out of bed and throwing on the closest hoodie just as you turn around, still catching on from whatever the hell just happened. Despite the dark lighting in the room, you can tell he’s flustered from the look on his face but goddamn he looks so cute with his messed hair and you could not be more annoyed about being interrupted right now. 
He pauses, turning towards you and just as your eyes meet, there’s the loud knocking again followed by Alias yelling whatever it is he’s saying. 
You’re more focused on how Jungkook is looking at you to comprehend anything else. In this split second, he looks like he has a thousand things to say but not a single thing comes out of his mouth except…
“I’m sorry.” He says it so fast that in the seconds it takes you to realise what he just said, he’s already at the door letting Alias in. 
“You’re not even dressed,” Alias says the second the door opens and he sees Jungkook. “And you’re not even up,” he says as he sees you. Shaking his head, he walks over to the blinds, completely unaware of the tension that is still heavy in the room between Jungkook and you. 
You glance at Jungkook again to see him looking at the floor but it’s as though he can sense your eyes on him because he looks up and your eyes meet for the second time. You’re sure your expression must mirror his – flustered, somewhat guilty, but mostly just confused. 
You know why you’re confused – in the last few days you’ve come to the realisation that your feelings for your best friend are more than just platonic and this happening makes you wonder what the hell Jungkook is thinking… is he feeling the same way as you? God, you can only hope… Or is he repulsed by what he’s just done and is completely regretting it now?
“Honestly, Y/N, I’m actually surprised that I’m up before you,” Alias continues as he rolls up the blinds. “You’re usually the responsible one. And Jungkook, you know we were supposed to meet at nine, it’s almost 11 now and we’ll be arriving tomorrow morning and we were supposed to meet with Alex this morning to go through the plans for the weekend, did you forget—?“ Alias pauses mid sentence, turning to look at you with a frown. 
For a second, you think he’s caught on to everything, but thankfully, it’s not that. 
“Why do I sound like my parents?” He shudders, looking at Jungkook too. “I must be getting old.”
Both Jungkook and you laugh, albeit awkwardly. This, however, doesn’t go unnoticed by Alias. His frown changes to something more curious as he looks between you. 
You expect him to say something about it but he doesn’t. 
“Well, Jungkook, he’s still waiting to speak with you, he’s already briefed the other guys.”
“Right,” Jungkook nods, now avoiding your gaze as he grabs his clothes. “I’ll just get ready, I won’t be long.”
“Cool,” Alias says, taking a seat in the armchair by the window. “I’ll wait for you then.”
As soon as Jungkook has disappeared into the bathroom, Alias turns to you. “Did you tell him?” he asks immediately.
Still slightly befuddled, you frown. “Huh?”
“Last night, you said you weren’t gonna say anything about how you feel but why are you both acting so different?”
“Oh.” All of last night comes back to you in an instant. Lawrence confessing, your conversation with Alias and everything else that happened with Jungkook after. “No, I didn’t,” you pause, brows knitting even further together before you look at Alias. “But I think he might know anyway.”
Alias’s brows shoot upwards. “What makes you think that?”
Because he was just feeling me up in bed and if you hadn’t walked in it seemed like it would have gone further. Well, you absolutely can’t say that. 
“I don’t know.” 
Frowning, Alias moves to sit at the end of the bed. “Are you okay?” He reaches forward and puts a hand on your knee.
“Yeah,” you nood, smiling as you take his hand to reassure him. You’re sure you must look like a bit of a mess, not only have you just gotten up but your mind and pulse is racing from what just happened with Jungkook – whatever it was. “Could you just give us a minute though?” 
“Sure,” Alias answers, getting up right away. “Just text me if you need anything,” he says. “I’ll be waiting on the deck for you guys.” He stops by the door, turning around. “But Alex is still waiting for Jungkook too.”
“We won’t be long,” you reassure him with a smile.
He nods once more before leaving the room. 
You’re left with only the noise of your thoughts and the shower running in the bathroom. You can feel your pulse racing as you push the covers back and get out of bed. It still feels so hot in here so you find the AC controller and blast the cool air to help calm yourself down as you try to process what just happened.
What did just happen? Were you and Jungkook really about to do something? Just thinking of it sends butterflies swirling down south but they’re quickly sent off track when you ask yourself what on earth it means?
You know why you were okay with it all happening… if you didn’t have feelings for him, you would never have let it happen, but you do, so you didn’t stop it. Is it the same for Jungkook? The idea of Jungkook liking you is far from foreign – Alex has always been trying to tell you but you just never believed it… this, however, has you in two minds. 
Or, there’s also the other more plausible reason. Jungkook woke up and realised his hard dick was enjoying the fact that there was another warm female body in such close vicinity to him so naturally, he made his move and you didn’t object so he went along with it. You’ve had your own small share of experiences with friends who you ended up doing more with without any feelings involved and so has Jungkook, maybe he just thought that’s what this was…  God, even just the thought of that hurts. 
The bathroom door clicks open and your head snaps up.
Jungkook walks out still scruffing his hair dry with a towel. He’s dressed casually for the day but he still looks as good as ever to you. He pauses after a few steps when he sees Alias has gone and slowly, he lowers the towel and looks at you. 
You feel small because you’re so unsure of where you stand with him right now. Pressing your palms with your fingers, you try to relax and think clearly but it’s hard when your heart is pounding in your chest and wants nothing more than for him to confess he has the same feelings as you do.
Still, as you look at Jungkook, it seems like he feels small too. His fingers are squeezing the towel as he switches it between his hands and he hesitates, starting to say something before he stops. 
You so badly want to say something, anything, but you have no idea what. How do you start? Can we talk about what just happened? Did you like it? Do you like me? Because I like you, a lot. Gosh, if only it was that damn easy. 
“Um,” Jungkook starts but looks away from you. “I’m sorry about what happened…” He loosely points to the bed.
Startled, you just stand there for a moment. He’s sorry?… “You’re sorry?” you repeat.
“Yeah, I, uh, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 
“So, you weren’t thinking about what you were doing…?” you echo, starting to feel like a stupid parrot. He regrets it, of course he does.
Jungkook blinks, somewhat confused but you don’t blame him. You’re asking for clarification for selfish reasons – you need to know if he thinks what just happened was a mistake because it was far from a mistake for you. 
“No…” Jungkook hesitates, his face rounding as he looks at you. You’re sure he can tell you’re upset by what he’s saying. “Were you?” he asks.
“No.” It’s not a lie – you really weren’t thinking about what was happening, just that you enjoyed it. 
As soon as you say it, you’re sure you see Jungkook deflate. Did he want me to say yes? No, that doesn’t make sense, he said no first. 
“Right, yeah.” He clears his throat as he fiddles with the towel again. “I’m sorry it happened, I wouldn’t ever want to make you feel uncomfortable.” He says it with such sincerity that your chest tightens.
“I didn’t feel uncomfortable.” The words come out before you can even stop them but you want him to know that, you’d hate for him to feel bad about something like this when it’s far from his fault that you let it happen just because you like him and wanted it to be something more.
Jungkook’s expression is the same as before, eyes rounding and there’s that barely-there pout to his lips as he asks, “You didn’t?” 
“No, I didn’t.” Shit, what are you saying, Y/N? You can hear the blood rushing through your ears and you start to feel sick. “But… it wasn’t supposed to happen?” You mean for it to come out as a question but you have no clue if it did.
“I, no,” Jungkook clears his throat again and he nods. “It was just a mistake then, it won’t happen again.” Now he looks away from you completely as he goes and puts the towel into the laundry basket.
Suddenly, you feel yourself on the verge of breaking. How can he be so composed right now when you feel like you simultaneously want to shout at him to tell him how much he means to you, and cry endlessly because–does he really not feel anything for you?
“Alias is waiting for you upstairs,” you say, walking past him to go into the bathroom. “I’ll meet you later.”
You leave no time for him to respond but just before you close the door, you catch a glimpse of his confused doe eyes and just like that, your heart sinks again.
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“Could it really be?” your dad pretends to rub his eyes, blinking a few times as his face morphs into a grin. “Our daughter is here to grace us with her presence, I don’t believe it.”
Your mom laughs, gently patting your hand as you sit down between them. 
“Ha-ha, very funny dad,” you deadpan, throwing him a grumpy look.
“I’m only kidding, honey. I’m just glad you’ve decided to join us for lunch.”
“Of course,” you shrug. “I’ll even make your plates, what do you want?”
Your dad throws your mom a look. “Our princess is spoiling us today.”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you head over to the buffet table to prepare two plates for your parents with everything you know they like. Just as you turn back to return to your table, you catch Jungkook watching you from across the balcony.
He’s on a table with Alex, Sophia and a few others. Meeting your gaze, he gives a small smile before looking away. Gosh you never knew a smile could hurt so much. 
Ignoring the pang in your chest, you return to your parents and slump into the seat.
“Where’s yours?” your dad asks, already reaching for a sandwich. 
“I’m not that hungry,” you mumble, taking a strawberry and biting into it. 
Not so slyly, your parents exchange glances. They choose to say nothing for the moment, making small talk as they enjoy their lunch. 
Once your dad is on his second cup of coffee, your mum takes your hand and squeezes gently. Looking up, you take comfort in the smile you see on her face. You know that both your parents are aware that there’s something on your mind – it’s why you’ve chosen to sit silently in their company while they have their own light hearted conversation. You also know that their advice is usually unparalleled to anyone else’s and right now, you could really do with some of their wise words.
“Is there anything you want to eat, honey?” your mom asks.
“The fruit is fine,” you answer quietly.
In response, your dad piles all the fruit into the plate in front of you while your mother gently continues probing.
“You’ve lost your appetite then… that usually happens for a reason, hm?”
You don’t say anything and she continues. 
“Would it have anything to do with Jungkook?”
The rounded eyes you give your mom must give it away immediately as she lets out a small sigh.
“How could you tell?” you ask. 
“He came down ten minutes before you,” your dad answers, “he normally always waits for you. Not to mention the funny look you gave each other just a little while ago.”
Sighing, you slump further into your seat. “We got into an argument last night,” you admit, feeling like a five year old again. 
It seems so stupid to say out loud, especially because you don’t think you can bring yourself to reveal the real reason the argument feels as bad as it does – the reason being your feelings for him – but you don’t really care about feeling like a kid when it’s your parents. They’re the only people you can be this vulnerable with and at times like this, you want their comfort and company the most. You would love to tell them the whole story but there’s no way you’re telling them what just happened this morning so you go with everything else.
“It wouldn’t be the first,” your mom says, still holding your hand as she takes it into her lap.
“No, but this felt different…”
Your mom hums, gently playing with the bracelet on your wrist. Neither she nor your dad say anything, waiting for you to continue on your own.
Closing your eyes, you let out part of the truth. “Lawrence told me he likes me.”
Your mom’s fingers pause briefly before she continues twisting the charms between her fingers. Looking up, you catch your parents exchanging glances, most definitely surprised but they’re subtle about it. 
“He told me last night and I made it clear it wouldn’t work… but I think it looked different to Jungkook and he just kept telling me I should give Lawrence a chance even though I told him I don’t want to.”
“That’s what you argued about?” your dad asks. 
“Mhm.” 
“Lawrence telling you that…” your dad pauses momentarily before continuing, “how did it make you feel?” 
“It was weird,” you admit. “I used to have a big crush on him.” 
“Oh, we know,” your mom says with a smile. 
Despite it being in the past, it still feels so embarrassing — you were such a wide eyed 16 year old with a fat school crush that even your parents noticed. 
“But I don’t now,” you mumble, cheeks warming as you keep your head lowered. “I told him that and I guess I felt kinda bad too. It’s been a while since we left school.”
Your father hums in agreement. “That’s a long time to like someone,” he says, head cocking as he looks at you knowingly. 
“I know.” 
Squeezing your hand, your mom takes over. “And what about Jungkook?”
“Well, when I told him, he was insisting I should give it a try.”
“That doesn’t seem like such a bad thing to suggest,” your dad shrugs. “I’d say the same thing, after all, you said it yourself that you liked him before and Lawrence is a good guy.”
“Yeah but I don’t now,” you reiterate. “I thought Jungkook would know that.”
“You’ve been single since you left college, Y/N, there’s absolutely no reason for him to think your heart is elsewhere…” he pauses, patting your leg, “unless you tell him.”
“Huh?” You look at your dad but he’s already looked away, a smirk on his face as he takes a sip of his coffee. 
“I, what would I…?” you sputter, looking at your mom and seeing the smile on her face, you fall quiet. 
So much for trying to keep this a secret — if your parents know then you wonder if anyone else knows. Although, of course no one else knows you as much as your parents and here they are telling you to tell Jungkook how you really feel but it’s still so nerve wracking to you. 
There’s so many times you can think of that would make you think he likes you as much as you like him, but then there‘s also that voice of reason in your head that tells you you’re reading into it too much. Jungkook doesn’t like you romantically as much as you wish he would. 
Chin lifting, you get up. “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say, “but thanks for the chat,” you smile, giving a quick kiss on the cheek to both of them. 
“Darling, you’ll regret it if you don’t,” your dad says as you’re walking off. 
“No idea what you mean,” you call out with an airy wave of your hand. 
Walking across the length of the deck, you steal a glance in the direction of Jungkook only to see he’s no longer there. Looking around, you can’t see him anywhere. Resigned, you find an empty table that’s out of sight from everyone you know and slump into the chair to be alone with your thoughts. 
No one knows you better than your parents, not even Jungkook and if they’re telling you to tell him then you can’t argue that there’s a big part of you that agrees and even wants to tell him.  How would it feel to have Jungkook as yours? Sure, you have him more than anyone else right now — you share everything together, the good stuff, the bad stuff, and all the days in between… 
It’s something you’ll forever be grateful for because if you can’t have all of Jungkook then you’ll take the little things whenever you can. Still though, you know it’s not the same when all you are to him is a best friend; his response to what happened this morning completely confirmed that to you. In some ways, it hurts more than anything else knowing that as his best friend, you’ll be there when he eventually does find someone to call his own and fuck, even just the thought of that hurts like a bitch. 
Who knows if you’d even still be friends when that happens? It’s only natural that he and whoever he chooses would become closer than ever and you’ll just be that childhood friend considered to be like a sister…
“You’re moping.”
Turning around, you see Alex standing with his hands on his hips. 
“And you’re interrupting,” you grumble, slumping back into the seat.
“Nope, come on, I’m not having this,” he says, coming right behind you and holding your head to look up at him. “The wedding is in three days and you are not going to spend it like this.”
“I’ll be fine for the wedding, I promise.”
Narrowing his eyes, Alex lets go and sits down next to you. “What about tomorrow?”
Tomorrow night is Thalia’s hen night and Alex’s stag night. The cruise will arrive at Porto Cheli around dawn tomorrow and most guests will be escorted to various villas rented out by the Cirillo’s. Meanwhile, you and a few close others, including Jungkook, will be arriving at the Cirillo family home. A grand estate which given its enormous size, will accommodate the tradition of keeping the bride and groom parties separate until the wedding on Saturday afternoon.
Thalia has never been much of a party-goer so she’s choosing to keep things simple with a fine dining evening although you’re sure Sophia has planned for strippers and booze to appear at some point during the night. 
“I’ll be fine,” you repeat, plastering on a smile.
“I know you can fake it for everyone else but I actually want you to have a good time, Y/N,” he says, putting his arm around you.
Your smile turns into a genuine one. “I will, of course I will, it’s your wedding weekend and I’m so happy for you.”
Alex grins. “Thanks, I know you are.” He lets go and turns his chair to face you. “But I also know that you’re not talking to Jungkook right now, which means both of you will be moping until you make up.”
Of course he knows, you think. Well, he doesn’t know about this morning and you don’t know if you can bring yourself to tell him, it feels rather embarrassing for you. “Alias told you?”
“He told Sophia, she told Thalia and Thalia told me,” Alex shrugs.
It’s not like you expected it to stay a secret between your friends. Whenever Jungkook and you aren’t talking, it’s usually pretty obvious to everyone around you, especially your friends. 
“Wanna talk about it?” Alex offers.
“Not really.” Talking to your parents was enough and you already know what Alex is going to say. “You probably think I should just be completely honest about how I feel, right?”
Alex shrugs again. “Yeah, although he should’ve been upfront about it first.”
Surprised, you look up at him and he continues.
“I know I've been telling you for ages that he’s whipped for you, but this kind of proves it, don’t you think?” Alex glances at you, eyes creasing in the corners as he hides a smug smirk. “There’s only one reason he reacted to Lawrence the way he did.”
It makes sense, but it also doesn’t – Jungkook purely could’ve been pushing you to be with Lawrence as a friend who just wants to see you happy. You’d hate to think it’s for the former reason, only to realise you’ve terribly misinterpreted the situation and end up stupidly admitting your feelings to Jungkook when he cares for you only as a friend. “It doesn’t really,” you say, trying harder to convince yourself than Alex. “I mean, he probably just didn’t want me to waste the opportunity.”
“Ha!” Alex scoffs. “Waste the opportunity.” He gives you a look. “Come on, Y/N, why are you fighting every reason that you have to try?”
“It’s not a reason,” you counter. “We’ve gotten into one argument and I don’t think me saying I have feelings for him will change anything–”
“So you do.”
“What?” 
You look back at Alex and see his eyes wide and he’s not even hiding his smile anymore. 
“You do like him,” he repeats.
“I, what…?” Suddenly, you realise you just said it out loud. Opening your mouth, you’re about to try to cover it up somehow but it’s too late.
“I knew it,” Alex laughs, seeming way too ecstatic considering how shit you feel. “This is gold, Y/N, this is it, I’ve always known Jungkook liked you but you liking him too, it’s perfect!”
“Shh,” you hush him suddenly, grabbing his hands as you look around in a panic. “Alex shut up, someone’s gonna hear you.”
“The whole world should know, Y/N,” he laughs happily again. Looking at you, he cups your face in his hands. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long, you need to tell him, Y/N, please!”
The thought of telling Jungkook is terrifying to you, even more so now that Alex is saying it out loud and someone could possibly hear. 
With your expression split between worry and confusion, Alex’s smile fades a little but not completely. “Y/N, this is good, what’s wrong?”
For the first time, you let yourself say the truth out loud. “What if he doesn’t feel the same way?”
Alex sighs, his smile softening. “There’s only one way you’ll find out.
Now it’s you who scoffs, pulling away from him. “Yeah, right.”
“I am right,” he insists.
Sighing, you look at him. It’s so hard to hear Alex tell you that Jungkook likes you when youc an only think otherwise after this morning… “Something happened,” you start, watching Alex carefully.
For a second he still smiles but when he sees the worry lining your face, his expression mirrors yours as his smile fades. “Okay… you wanna talk about it?”
You quickly glance around to make sure no one can hear. “You promise you won’t tell anyone,” you say, “not even Alias or Sophia or Tha–” you cut yourself off. Asking Alex not to tell his soon to be wife is like asking him to cut off his hand, you already know that since he couldn’t even keep Sophia’s birthday present to her secret. “Fine, only Thalia.”
“Appreciate it,” Alex nods.
“Mhm, well…” You tell him briefly what happened this morning, sparing him the details but telling him every word of what was spoken after and he listens carefully, not interrupting you once. 
You chose to tell Alex because he’s the one who has always been so sure of Jungkook’s feelings for you, not Alias, nor Sophia, or even Thalia. Sure, the others have hinted at it but only Alex has ever paid attention to everything between Jungkook and you so if anyone knows the whole story and can give you the best advice, it’s him. So, it feels a little alarming to you when once you’re done, he still doesn’t say anything for a moment.
Then, he purses his lips, grimacing before he finally speaks. “Honestly, that’s a bit confusing. If there ever was a way to confess, this was the perfect window to do it.”
For what feels like the umpteenth time today, your heart sinks. “That’s what I thought.”
“But,” Alex says very surely, taking your hand, “it doesn’t change every single other thing he’s ever done to show he likes you, and let’s be real, he’s probably just worried that you won’t feel the same.”
It’s what you want to hear but it’s still so hard to accept it because what if it’s not true and you make a fool of yourself in front of Jungkook.
“I wish that were true,” you mumble. “But I don’t think I can keep holding onto hope when it hurts like this.”
Alex squeezes your hand. “Y/N, we know Jungkook, he doesn’t exactly play with anyone’s feelings and I absolutely don’t think he would start something physical with you unless he was feeling it emotionally too.”
“I know, but what if it’s just because he was horny.” You’re still mumbling, cheeks going warm as you say it. 
“Look, I think there’s a lot of guys who would sleep with their best friends if they had the chance,” Alex says, “but Jungkook isn’t one of them, he never has been.”
Thinking about it, you realise he’s right. Jungkook wouldn’t. There’s been way more chances in the past for him to have done things with you and you’re pretty sure there’s even been times where you drunkenly made a few moves on him but he never did anything himself.
“Still, I don’t know.”
“Oh, come on, Y/N,” Alex says encouragingly, “how long have I been telling you he likes you? I haven’t been saying it for no reason.”
“But you have no concrete proof either.”
“Just take a chance, be brave and then you’ll see I was right,” Alex says, raising a brow.
Glancing at him, you chuckle. “This is coming from the guy who had to get drunk to say I love you to the love of his life for the first time.”
Alex smiles and leans back in his seat as he gestures around him. “It worked didn’t it? Look at me now.”
Well, he got you there. Plus, you can’t deny the big part of you that believes it. Jungkook and your friendship does feel more than friends sometimes and you know it’s not all in your head. This morning seemed to confirm that too.
Narrowing your eyes at Alex, you turn away to face the horizon. “Don’t say anything to anyone, but I’ll think about it.”
“Yes,” Alex laughs, hugging you. “I’ll keep my mouth shut,” he says, sounding so excited. “You won’t regret this.”
Laughing, you pull him into your side. “You could start now, half the deck can hear you.”
“Sorry,” he grins, squeezing you. 
Maybe he’s right, maybe you won’t regret it. 
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Jungkook comes to a stop at the end of the balcony to watch the sun set behind the sea. It’s been a long day with Alex asking his groomsmen to assist him in all things wedding related and then Alias needed help sorting out the entertainment for tomorrow.
Jungkook hasn’t seen you since lunch. He went back to the cabin while you had lunch with your parents since he didn’t want to make it awkward for you when you eventually came up to finish packing and since then he hasn’t seen you as you’ve been with the girls all day. 
Truthfully, after this morning, he doesn’t think he can bear to see you just yet. He feels like a coward. Not only has he probably ruined his friendship with you, but he also can’t help but feel like he’s hurt you. You looked so timid as you stood across the cabin from him and a part of him felt like you wanted him to say something other than what he said. If only he was 100% sure it’s what you wanted, Jungkoook would shout it for the whole world to hear, but what if it’s not and he really does ruin everything between you. Besides, you called it a mistake. That’s all Jungkook can remind himself of as it takes everything in him not to tell you he wishes that there was something more between you.
“Why the long face, Kookie?”
The voice comes from behind him but Jungkook doesn’t have to be looking to know who it is. 
Valentina appears beside him and leans on the balcony too. She doesn’t even look at him but just watches the horizon ahead as Jungkook was. “Trouble in paradise, huh?”
Jungkook frowns. Of course that’s the first thing she would think of. “Not really,” he mutters. 
As much as he wishes it was paradise between you and him, it wasn’t, none of it was real
and what he finds worse is that he couldn’t even keep up a fake relationship with you – he completely blew it.
“So what then? They didn’t have your favourite bagel for breakfast this morning?” She laughs lightly. 
However, Jungkook internally scowls. It’s annoying that she actually knows him rather well despite the finer details of their ‘relationship’. “No offence, Val, but I really just wanna be alone right now.” 
There’s harsher things he could’ve said, particularly naming her as the least desirable companion right now, but even without that, Valentina seems to get the message from his tone alone. 
The humour in her expression disappears leaving only a small poignant smile. 
Not expecting such a quick retreat from her, Jungkook immediately regrets his harsh tone but at the same time, he really is not in the mood for Valentina and her usual antics today. 
She doesn’t move an inch though. With a small sigh she turns and faces the horizon just as Jungkook was. 
Jungkook does the same; although he’d rather be left alone, he’s definitely not about to make it known again, especially since he now feels a bit bad.
“It’s always been her, hasn’t it?”
For a moment, Jungkook is completely thrown. Multiple thoughts run through his head – What? Valentina knows? How long has she known? Was it from when he was with her? Was he really always in love with you even while he was seeing other people? That must make him a complete dick, right? Has he always made it so painfully obvious that he’s in love with you?
His hesitation seems to give Valentina the answer she was looking for.
She glances at him and smiles before looking away again. “I’m not surprised really, I knew it from when I first met you, I guess it’s my fault for putting us both through everything we went through, it was damned from the start.”
“That’s not your fault,” Jungkook says, the guilt festering.
Valentina just shrugs. “It’s over now, no reason to care.” She says it meaninglessly but Jungkook can only hope she means it.
“So why the long face then?” she repeats, looking at him. “She’s yours, go be with her.”
“It’s not that simple.” 
Valentina laughs, bumping her shoulder into him. “Yeah, you’re right. Pretending to date someone you’re secretly in love with is never simple.”
For the second time, Jungkook looks at her stunned. “How did you…?”
She shrugs, still sporting an amused smile. “I know you think I’m stupid, Jungkook, just a head in the clouds rich bitch like everyone else does, but I’ve gotten this far, haven’t I?”
“That’s not true,” Jungkook corrects her immediately. Sure, Valentina has her unbearable moments and more often than not, she plays dumb and innocent, but Jungkook knows that she’s more than that. “I wouldn’t have dated you if I thought that.”
“Don’t worry, Kookie, you don’t have to try to make me feel better, I really couldn’t care less about it. Now, back to the main issue here, you need to grow a pair and tell Y/N how you feel about her,” she says bluntly.
She’s not wrong, Jungkook thinks. “It’s just not that simple,” he sighs, turning away from her. It feels odd to be having this conversation with Valentina and despite her honesty just now, he doesn’t really feel like opening up to her.
“What’s complicated about it? You like her and she likes you.”
“We don’t know that.”
“You honestly think she doesn’t like you?” she asks, sounding surprised.
Hesitating, Jungkook eventually shrugs. “Sometimes I think so…” It’s true, sometimes Jungkook really feels so sure that you feel the same way, but then something always happens that changes things. He thinks of Lawrence – you liked him for so long and although Jungkook doesn’t know the extent of it, you always had this schoolgirl crush on him, even whilst you were with Alex. “But I don’t think she does.”
Valentina looks at Jungkook like he’s stupid and he’s vaguely reminded of why they never worked out. “Well, you can keep thinking that but it’s kind of obvious she does.”
Saying nothing, Jungkook looks out at the horizon again, leaning his forearms into the balcony. The sun is almost fully set marking the last day of the cruise. They’ll soon be arriving at Porto Cheli and it’ll be even harder to spend time with you once the bride and groom parties are separated. He wants to talk to you and to make things okay between you again, but he knows that he’s upset you and although it’s confusing him, he wants to give you space. 
Valentina sighs, nudging him. “Just talk to her, you don’t want to regret it later on,” she says, straightening up as her usual flamboyance returns. “You know if it doesn’t work out, I’ll always be here for you Kookie pie,” she almost coos, making Jungkook laugh and cringe at the same time. As ditzy as she may act sometimes, Valentina is more smart than Jungkook ever gave her credit for.
She grins, winking at him before she waltzes off like the conversation never happened.
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The cabin is dark when you finally return to your room. It’s well past midnight and you expect Jungkook to be here but as your eyes quickly adjust, you can see the room is empty. As you walk in further, you see his suitcase standing packed and ready in the corner of the room. 
Deflating, you trudge over to your own open suitcase on one side of the room. You’re only half packed and you’d hoped Jungkook would still have his to do too so you’d have a chance to maybe talk to him, but it seems he’s already done it while you were busy with the girls. You wonder if he avoided you on purpose.
Pushing this thought quickly out of your head, you press shuffle on your ‘summer ‘23’ playlist in an attempt to cheer yourself up while you finish packing. It doesn’t really work but you at least keep your mind free from running rampant, instead singing along to some of your favourite tunes with no regards for your cabin neighbours, one of whom is Valentina and you’re more than certain she’s not in her cabin because you last saw her walking out of the premium lounge with a tall, handsome stranger whose face you couldn’t see and they went into an elevator going to the cabins on the other side of the ship, barely waiting to let the door close before locking lips.
Must be nice, you think sourly before shaking your head. Not cute, Y/N, you scold yourself. Although you don’t blame yourself for having negative thoughts since you are on the short end of an unrequited love story with your best friend, you’d still rather not be bitter.
Almost three hours later, you’ve packed everything, showered and are already dressed ready for the arrival at Porto Cheli soon. You’ve chosen a simple outfit, a sky blue linen co-ord with jewellery to match. Slipping into the comfiest sandals you own, you move your suitcase next to the door and grab your phone before heading out of the room. It’s almost 5am so there’s around an hour left until the ship docks at the port, marking the end of the cruise and the start of the busy wedding weekend. Most of you took a nap during the day, so deciding you wouldn’t sleep tonight, they all agreed to meet one last time on the cruise.
Despite everything that’s happened with Jungkook and the dampener it’s put on your mood, you’re still excited to celebrate Alex’s wedding. Not only is he dear to you, but you’re celebrating his marriage with so many of the people you love the most, making this whole trip special. It would be perfect if you could end it by fixing what���s happened with Jungkook but you feel like you’ve already made yourself so vulnerable to him and nothing came out of it.
It’s quiet and dark in the hallways as you make your way out to the pool on the top deck. It reminds you of the nights you were sneaking out with Jungkook to meet the other guys for whatever stupid stuff you were getting up to. It makes you miss him now and you subconsciously walk a little faster in anticipation of seeing him now as you all gather for the last time.
You can hear your friends before you see them and you smile at the sound of Alias’ laughter as you climb the steps to the deck. You’re certain any patrolling staff would have heard and they’re either being nice enough to let you all off, or Alias tipped them enough to keep quiet. 
There’s a bunch of familiar faces hanging around all together, all friends of either Alex, Thalia, Sophia or Alias. You smile at a few as you make your way over to Sophia, Thalia and a few others. 
The girls greet you warmly as you approach and Sophia hands you a drink as soon as you arrive. You take it and immediately take a sip. You weren’t planning on having anything to drink but one won’t hurt. There’s an excited buzz in the air, the same you felt on the first day of cruise but this feels special. The sun is rising on the horizon and you’re here with almost all of your best friends. Almost all of your best friends. Jungkook still isn’t here but you try not to focus on it and just have a good time with your friends. 
It works, so much so that you’re mid laughter when a familiar face joins the deck and makes their way over to you, but you don’t quite realise until he pats your shoulder as the conversation progresses. 
Turning around, your smile falters but doesn’t disappear. “Oh, hey.”
“Hey.” Lawrence looks nervous, an emotion you’re not used to seeing on him.
You also weren’t actually expecting to see him but you’re glad he’s here. Throughout everything, he’s still a friend and you’d hate to lose that relationship with him.
“How are you?” You ask, smile widening. You haven’t seen him since that night and you’d hate to think he’s been avoiding you when it’s the last thing you’d want.
“Good, thanks,” he nods. He seems to suddenly relax at your warm response. He glances at the group behind you and you turn too. No one is paying either of you any attention but Lawrence still asks for privacy. “Do you think we could talk?” he asks tentatively. “I’ll make it quick, I promise.”
“Of course,” you nod, following him as he turns right away and walks to the furthest side of the deck where it’s quietest. 
You stop when he does, taking a seat on the bench beside him. It’s easy to see he’s nervous as he glances around quickly before looking down at the drink in his hand. You want to say something to make him feel better but you don’t want to interrupt whatever it is he wants to say.
“How have you, uh, how have you been?” He looks up, holding eye contact for barely a second before looking away again.
“Good,” you answer. It’s not the truth but he doesn’t need to know that.
He nods and takes a sip of his drink. You do the same and you’ve just swallowed when he speaks again.
“I‘m sorry for pulling you away from your friends, I just wanted to talk to you tonight before all the wedding stuff starts and I didn’t know if I’d get a chance.”
“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” You lean in a little so he looks at you and smile. “You’re my friend too though,” you say, feeling the need to remind him.
His smile mirrors yours and he nods. “I kinda messed it up though…”
You know this is of course what he wanted to talk to you about and although you don’t think it needs to change anything between you, you know yourself how easily feelings can change a friendship. Not only that, but he deserves an explanation from you too since you did have feelings for him for a good chunk of your teen years and later, plus your conversation ended before it was supposed to that night when Alias and Jungkook appeared.
“Not really,” you shrug. “I think it’s just how we deal with it now, no?” 
“Yeah, if you’re okay with that,” he agrees. “I’d like to.”
“Of course I am. And I’m sorry too by the way.” 
Lawrence looks confused and you don’t wait for him to say anything before continuing.
“I think it must have been confusing for you to be on the receiving end of my feelings for you while we were in college and maybe I even subconsciously made it seem like it after too.”
“Ah,” Lawrence purses his lips. “Well I didn’t really know.”
“I know, you said that before but I still feel like I need to say it. There may have been a few times I was coming off as more than friendly and that was wrong of me.”
Lawrence’s silence serves as an answer.
“So yeah, I’m sorry too. I hope we can go back to how things were,” you say hesitantly.
“It might be hard,” Lawrence responds honestly. 
“I know…” your voice feels small. You know all too well how feelings can change a friendship. “But we’ll try?” You look at him and smile hopefully.
He nods. “Of course.” 
You’re content with that. Of course you don’t know the extent of his feelings for you so you hope it won’t be hard for him to move on – after all, the two of you mostly ever met up at family functions and dinners of the same sort. It’s rare for Lawrence to have joined any of the outings with your friends. It was never his fault since his parents have always pushed for him to do more for their company, especially since he was an only child. It’s something that’s always made you more grateful for your own parents and their completely laid back and caring approach to your career, even all throughout school. The only thing they ever pushed for was your grades but they kept up that same effort in all areas of your life, even your extracurriculars. Sure, sometimes when you were growing up you felt the pressure but you always felt supported by them no matter what the final result was.
Lawrence has experienced the opposite of you to say it simply, and you’re sure that given time, he’ll find the right person for him as he prioritises himself.
“Thanks for talking to me though,” you say, “I’m glad you did.”
“Me too,” Lawrence says, taking another sip. “At least now I don’t have to avoid you all weekend long.”
You laugh, agreeing with him and soon enough, the conversation continues although it doesn’t last longer than ten minutes with Lawrence excusing himself.
You stay seated at the bench as he leaves. You didn’t realise you were concerned about your relationship with Lawrence but the relief and content you’re feeling now tells you as much. You’re glad you’ve cleared everything up with him, now if only you could get yourself to do the same with Jungkook.
Glancing around, you realise that he still hasn’t appeared. He definitely would have known about it so you wonder why he hasn’t turned up. Finishing your drink, you get up and head over to where Alias is sitting with his friends Kelce and Dillon.
“Hey, Y/N,” they all say in unison when you come and sit beside them at the pool. They’re definitely a little tipsy and you don’t need to see the cans beside them to know that. Their goofy smiles say it all.
“Hey guys,” you chuckle, patting Kelce’s shoulder. “Um, have you guys seen Jungkook anywhere?” 
Alias immediately frowns but it’s Dillon who answers. “We were with him a while ago at the lounge.” He looks at the other guys. “When was that? A couple of hours ago?”
Kelce looks at his phone. “Yeah, it was around one.”
You went past the lounge at the same time, that’s when you saw Valentina leaving with that guy… for a split second, your mind goes there – could it have been him? – No. Absolutely no. The idea is absurd. You feel stupid for even thinking that.
“You haven’t seen him since then, Y/N?” Alias asks.
“No.” You ignore the seed of concern that settles in your stomach. You’re certain he’s not with Valentina, but where is he? 
“We were gonna leave the lounge together but he stayed for another drink,” Alias tells you, seeming to share the same concern as you. “He seemed like he wanted to be alone so we left him.”
“Oh.” It’s not like Jungkook to drink alone – if he does, he’s usually upset about something. “Well, thanks for telling me,” you mutter, getting up and leaving the group.
Alias, however, gets up with you. “Hey,” he says, taking your arm. “You want me to find him?” He looks you over and you’re sure the concern in his expression isn’t solely for Jungkook.
“Um…” you hesitate. You don’t want to seem like a clingy best friend, especially not after what happened between you, but if Jungkook is drinking alone then he’s not feeling okay and you would normally be there for him. This time you feel like you can’t be, but Alias can. However, you don’t want to ask Alias to spend his night away from his friends and family.
Looking at him, you smile. “No, it’s okay. I’m sure he’s around somewhere.”
Alias doesn’t seem convinced. “But then he would be here.”
He’s right. “Or maybe he was tired and went back to the cabin?”
“You just said you haven’t seen him since we did.”
Chewing on the inside of your lip, you shake your head. “I haven’t.”
Sighing, Alias pulls out his phone. “I’ll try calling him but if he doesn’t get back to me in ten minutes we’ll go look for him.”
“Okay,” you nod. “Let me know if he replies,” you say, thanking him too before going back to some of the girls. 
You’re not listening much to their conversation although you try to get involved to take your mind off of Jungkook. 
It isn’t until you receive a text from Alias with a screenshot that your nerves are put to rest. 
[3:01] Me: hey man where r u?
[3:13] JK: hey sorry bro, I knocked out on the balcony.
[3:13] Me: oh okay, it’s all good just wanted to know where u were. Join us now? We’re at the top pool deck. 
[3.15] JK: I’m just gonna check all my luggage is packed first. Will join later.
[3:15] Me: cool see u. 
So he’s fine, he just fell asleep. You still want to see him but you know that’s not going to happen unless you go down to the cabin room and you don’t want to seem clingy so you don’t. Instead, you turn your attention back to the conversation the girls are having and feel the excitement for the weekend to come.
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Jungkook doesn’t get drunk often and he had no plans of doing so the last night of the cruise either, and he most definitely did not expect to get drunk with your father of all people…
“You coming Jungkook?”
Looking up from his drink, Jungkook shook his head. “Nah, I’m just gonna hang here for a bit,” he said with a smile so as not to raise suspicions from the already watchful eye of Alias. 
Still, Alias frowned. “You sure?” 
“Yeah, I still got a headache.”
“Alright, well text me if you need anything,” Alias said as he, Kelce and Dillon got up. 
“Get well soon,” Kelce said as they took their leave.
“Join us later, yeah?” Dillon added.  
“Yeah,” Jungkook nodded. “I’ll catch you guys later.”
He watched as they walked out, trying to find the same excitement in him for the wedding as they’re feeling but his head was full of other thoughts. 
Sighing, he looked down at this drink again. It’s true that he had a headache. He even chose not to have anything alcoholic, opting for a mocktail from the extensive drinks menu available at the lounge. He’s not sure where it came from but he thought it’s most likely just because he couldn’t stop his brain from thinking and the lack of sleep didn’t help either. 
Truthfully, he knew he was just moping. He knew what he had to do and he knew it before his conversation with Valentina. Although, the fact that she said it too just made Jungkook more aware of the truth. 
The line between friendship and something more had always been blurry for Jungkook and the past few days only made him more sure of it — he’s in love with you and he always has been for as long as he can remember. 
Every time the thought crossed Jungkook’s mind, it triggered the questions that come with it. How do I tell her? Does she feel the same way? She’ll hate me. What if she hates me? I shouldn’t do that to her? What’s worse, is that now  it had come to the point that being with you was almost painful – not knowing if he could have more with you when all he had to do was confront his feelings, swallow his pride and be honest with you. Even if you didn’t feel the same, it was the point at which he realised he would rather you hate him for admitting his feelings and ruining your friendship, than stay quiet and never know if he can have what he’s always wanted with you.
That said, it still felt so hard to do – he had a lot to lose.
Head lowered, Jungkook tried to figure out the best way to do this when he heard a familiar laugh somewhere behind him. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw Valentina walking with a tall, handsome man beside her. Jungkook had seen him around a few times but he wasn’t sure if he was a part of the wedding party. Whoever he was, he sure knew how to make Valentina laugh; she was laughing as he put his arm around her and she raised her hand to hold his fingers loosely when she looked towards the bar. Making eye contact with Jungkook, she stopped and tilted her head.
Jungkook just smiled awkwardly and turned back around. He didn’t want to seem like he was staring even though that was what he was doing but for no bad reason – he liked to see Valentina happy. Despite her shortcomings, deep down she always had good intentions for the most part and making her happy was something Jungkook couldn’t do. However, he would’ve been lying if he said seeing her like that didn’t hurt – not because he was jealous of her, but because everyone around him seemed to be having such good luck in their love lives (whether there’s feelings attached or not) and here he was, unable to find the words to tell his best friend he loves her. It sucked.
“And what are you doing here, may I ask?”
Hearing Valentina’s voice so close to him all of a sudden startled Jungkook. He looked up, eyes wide. She stood with one hand on the bar and the other on her hip. 
“Uh, just getting a drink.”
Valentina rolled her eyes. “I spoke to you less than 12 hours ago, Jungkook, do you not remember anything?”
“I do,” he replied, glancing across at her date who seemed super unbothered as he waited for her a short distance away.
“Then why are you here?”
“I just needed to think some things over.”
“Like what?”
“Just things,” Jungkook said, feeling somewhat intimidated by how serious she was right now.
“You know you’re just wasting time,” she said matter-of-factly.
“She’s with everyone else right now, I don’t want to ruin her evening,” Jungkook says defensively.
“I really don’t think anything you say or do could ruin her evening.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Well, yeah but you’re not doing anything about it so how is that any better?”
She wasn’t wrong but Jungkook was convinced he needed to give you time. “I’m just not ready yet,” he sighed.
Valentina sighed too. “Fine,” she shrugged and turned back towards her date. “But you don’t need to think, Jungkook, you just need to do what needs to be done,” she added with a wave of her hand.
He knew she was right but why did it feel so hard?! 
Getting the attention of the bartender, he ordered a much needed drink, downing it all almost as soon as it came before ordering a second. At least he wasn’t a light weight. He knew this wouldn’t help his headache but it wasn’t like he was helping himself at all by sitting here and thinking endlessly. Endless thoughts of what could go right and wrong trailed through his mind, leaving him conflicted as he accepted that he wouldn’t disturb your night with this.
Halfway through his drink, someone came and took a seat at the stool beside him despite there  being space elsewhere. Looking across, he was more than surprised to see the last person he would’ve expected to see here.
Lawrence only acknowledged Jungkook with a nod before ordering his own drink. 
A multitude of emotions went through Jungkook at this particular moment starting with wanting to punch Lawrence in his perfect face, to feeling sorry for himself for being forced into this situation, then feeling sorry for Lawrence because he knew that he got the short end of the stick – at least Jungkook still has a strong friendship with you —  and oddly, gratefulness because Jungkook knows what he needs to do now and without Lawrence, he wouldn’t have been forced into it and who knows how long he would’ve gone without telling you the truth (though he had yet to do it). 
Saying nothing himself, Jungkook took another sip of his drink.
Lawrence, however, started a conversation. “You not joining the others?”
“Nah,” Jungkook answered quietly. He gave no reason but he didn’t need to. 
Lawrence nodded in understanding but said nothing else. His drink arrived and he stayed seated, sipping quietly beside Jungkook. 
Jungkook really didn’t care for conversation. He came to the bar for some peace and quiet so initiating a conversation is the last thing he wanted to do.
With all that said, Jungkook’s curiosity got the better of him. 
“What about you?” He asked without even turning his head. “You’re not gonna head up there?” 
Lawrence shook his head. “I’ll head up a bit later”
Jungkook nodded, wondering if Lawrence would see you while he was there. He could ask him but that would open the doors to another conversation which he didn’t really want to have.  
Lawrence didn’t owe him any apology since you’re not really his girlfriend. He did seem to cross a line considering he didn’t know that at the time, but there was no reason for him to say it now. 
Just when Jungkook took another sip of his drink, Lawrence put his glass down and looked toward Jungkook, sincerely. 
“Hey, man, I’m really sorry for what I did.”
Although he harboured some slight resentment towards Lawrence for what happened, it immediately seemed to melt away in that moment. Their friendship extended well beyond the past few days and Jungkook has never been the type to hold a grudge, especially not when the other person is genuine. 
“It’s cool,” he responded. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“I did.”
Jungkook only had to glance at Lawrence to see he looked guilty and felt bad about it. “I was selfish and I wanted to tell Y/N how I felt. I guess there was a part of me that wished she wasn’t with you and that was completely fucked up.” 
“She’s not with me though.” 
It came out slightly harsher than intended, carrying the weight of Jungkook’s own feelings. Lawrence went quiet and Jungkook continued, resigned.
“Honestly I’d say you’ve got a pretty good shot with her, I’d go for it if I were you.”
“Why don’t you?” Lawnrence asked simply, without any curiosity or even peaked interest. His voice held more of a genuine want to help. 
“What?”
“Why don’t you just go for it?”
Jungkook shook his head. “We’re just friends.”
“I don’t think it’s that simple.”
“No offence Lawrence, but how would you know?”… Now that did come out slightly harsher than intended. “The last time you even saw us was probably at Sophia’s graduation and even then you were gonna way before the night ended.”
Completely understanding, Lawrence backed up. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
“No, it’s fine.” Jungkook cooled off. “I’m sorry too.  That came out wrong.”
“It’s alright.” Lawrence sat back in his chair, swirled his drink before taking three long sips to empty the glass. 
“It doesn’t change anything though,” he said, getting up from his stool. “There’s a point at which you can pass friendship and I don’t think there’s anything wrong with treading beyond that line.” He put a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder. “Just do it carefully.”
Jungkook stared at Lawrence but Lawrence didn’t linger. 
“Anyway, like I said, I’m sorry for everything.”
Jungkook watched as he walked away, the words swimming in his befuddled mind.
Lawrence was right. There was a line and Jungkook knew he was straddling that fine line and perhaps now it was too late to step back. Instead, he should be brave and put everything out on that line. It was easy enough to think with liquid courage flowing through him, that and the fact that you weren’t here right now. But maybe he should have taken advantage of the fact that he was feeling more confident now, he should find you, he found himself thinking. He should tell you he’s in love with you and then whatever happens next will happen. He can’t control that and right now there’s already a strain on the relationship that can only be fixed by the truth. 
He should do it, he thought. The thought built up more and more, ushering Jungkook as he pushed himself off the bar stool—
“Where you going, son? I just got here.”
A firm band on Jungkook’s shoulder pushed him back down, contrasting the loving tone with which he was spoken to. 
Your dad took the seat which was previously occupied by Lawrence and Jungkook could only stare for a moment as he called the bartender and ordered two drinks. If it was anyone else, Jungkook would’ve apologised and excused himself to carry out his plan of finding you, but with your dad it was simply not the case. 
“You like a gin and tonic right?” He asked, after ordering. 
Jungkook wasn’t particularly fond of it but he nodded. “Yeah, thanks. “
“How come you’re not with the others?”
Jungkook shrugged, hoping that your dad wouldn’t be able to tell he’d already had a couple to drink. “I just wasn’t feeling it.”
“And Y/N?”
Despite being the only thing on his mind for a while, the mention of you still threw him. “Huh?”
“Is she with the others?” Your dad asked coolly, reaching for some peanuts from the bowl in front of them.
“Yeah, I think so,” Jungkook answered as nonchalantly as he could. 
The bartender arrived with their drinks and your dad took his and sipped slowly in silence. 
Jungkoon was not uncomfortable around your dad, not in the slightest. In fact, he seemed to have grown rather close to him over the years and appreciated the almost father-son bond they shared. Having spent much time with your family, there wasn’t much he had yet to experience when it came to your dad, but this was something different. He’d never been sat at a bar, just the two of them making small talk over drinks. 
Jungkook knew your dad well enough to know that that wasn’t the purpose of this. Your dad is just breaking the ice to another conversation… but what? Surely it had to be about you and that was the only reason Jungkook found his palms unusually sweaty.
After what must’ve been at least twenty more minutes of small talk about the weather and football, Jungkook had emptied his second glass. 
Your dad laughed. “I forgot you can take your liquor, huh?” 
Before Jungkook could even respond, another drink had been ordered for him and Jungkook willed himself to drink this one slower, wary that he was already more than a few drinks in now though he was grateful that your dad was good at keeping up 
“So, what’s the real reason you’re not with the others?” Your dad asked, his own drink replaced with another as well. 
Jungkook shrugged and answered honestly. “Just not in the mood to socialise. I think I’d be a bit of a Debby downer so I’d rather sit this one out.”
“That’s selfless of you.”
“Not really, kind of selfish actually.”
Your dad nodded. “A bit of both then.”
Much to Jungkook’s surprise, your dad emptied his glass faster than Jungkook had and didn’t hesitate to order another. 
“Anything else for you?” he asked Jungkook. 
“Uh, sure.” Jungkook wasn’t sure why he said yes but he did, ordering a whiskey instead.
Your dad pulled his phone out and sighed, muttering an apology about a work issue and Jungkook nodded, not minding in the slightest. But the issue must have been resolved quickly because he put the phone away only moments later. 
“It almost feels wrong to be drinking with you,” your dad said. 
“Why?” Jungkook asked, taking the smallest sip from his glass. “Because I’m younger than you?”
“Partly. I’ve known you since you were so young, it’s hard to believe how much you’ve grown up.” Your dad smiled. “Y/N too.”
Jungkook smiled. “It has been a long time.” He thought back to the first day he first met your dad and you. He was a shy kid, hiding behind his mom and at the time, you were pretty shy at the time too. It was your mom who encouraged you to ask Jungkook if he wanted to read a book with you. He looked at his own mom for reassurance before shyly agreeing and following you to the reading corner in your playroom.  By the end of the night your affinity for him had grown and that was the simple start to your long friendship with more ups and downs than Jungkook could count.
“But at the same time it feels like nothing.”
Your dad raised his glass. “Exactly,” he said, with an agreeing nod of his head. “A lifetime and nothing, both at once. I sometimes wish I could go back.”
“To when we were young?”
“Further back if I could,” he smiled. “Maybe a few years before Y/N was born. Just before I got married.”
“Why then? Jungkook asked, curious. He’d known your dad for so many years and they’d had plenty of conversations about serious stuff and more light hearted stuff, but this was different. He’d not spoken much about his relationship witn your mother, especially not when partially intoxicated. And while Jungkook had seen plenty of the love they shared, he’d not heard much about it except from you.
“When I first met Y/N’s mother—gosh,” he sighed contentedly as though reliving the moment. “She was like no one else I’d ever met. She still is,” he added with a gentle chuckle. “There’s no one else I’d rather spend my days with. I’d give everything I have to be with her. Every minute of every hour, always.”
The smile on your dads face grew, as did Jungkook’s. 
“We were young when we got married, you know?”
Jungkook nodded. “I know. 24 right?”
He nodded, the corners of his lips turning up further into a proud smile. “I didn’t want to waste another day without the promise of having her by my side. My friends said I was mad, too young.”
Jungkook shakes his head, knowing how it felt to not want to be apart from someone he loved so dearly. “I don’t think you were mad at all. You were in love.” 
Your dad turned, now masking the smile that was on his face as he looked at Jungkook with a mischievous glint in his eye that Jungkook hadn’t seen before. “You know it when you feel it. There’s no mistaking it.”
Jungkook knew that now. He felt it more than ever with you now. But more pressingly, Jungkook realised – your dad knew. 
If it weren’t for the drinks he’d had, Jungkook might have felt embarrassed.
In quiet admittance, Jungkook sighed. “I know.”
Your dad smiled. “You shouldn’t let this time get away from you, Jungkook. You’re young with a life to live. Do it with love and without regrets. 
Jungkook nodded, feeling a tumultuous swirl of emotions inside. “I will,” he said, feeling more certain now than he had before, but he knew his head wasn’t in the right place to do this. First he ought to sober up… 
There was a gentle pat on his back from your dad. “Good.” He flagged the bartender down for what felt like too many times to Jungkook. “But first another drink with me.”
“Sure.” Jungkook felt his words slur slightly. Then the cogs in his brain which were turning a little slower raised a question in his mind. his eyes narrowed and he turned to your dad. “Wait, is this a test?”
Your dad laughed. “I’ve always liked you Jungkook.”
“Me too.” Jungkook smiled though he still looked wary. 
“Good.” Your dad returned the smile with even more fondness. “And no, it’s not a test. Let’s drink.”
So Jungkook stayed.
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note. how are you finding it? :) let me know xoxoxo link for part 3 here
more song recs: lose control — meduza & becky hill & goodboys tenerife sea — ed sheeran i'm a mess — ed sheeran so good (stripped) — halsey crazy what love can do — david guetta & becky hill & ella henderson
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cod-fishing · 4 months ago
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TF141 as minor war gods
God of Perseverance Ghost. God of resiliency, of choosing to keep going, despite all of the odds. When Ghost becomes a god, he is genuinely surprised. It takes him time to step into the role, feel like it truly is his calling. But over and over, people call on him in their darkest hour, needing a reason to continue - and he finds that he understands them. He can’t offer them a reason, not really. Lord knows there were many times he didn’t have any reason to keep going, except sheer stubbornness. But he finds it - a well in his soul, overflowing - so when moral is low, when the soldiers are beat down, Ghost touches them, and gives them the strength to keep going.
God of Accuracy Soap. Need an op to go perfectly? Need absolute precision? Soap is your god. When the stakes are high and cleanliness close to godliness is needed, Johnny MacTavish shows up on the battlefield, tilting each sniper shot just so, willing blows hard and fast, keeping everyone’s mind sharp. When he becomes a god, he takes to it like fish to water. He doesn’t question why him, just lives in the moment. It’s like he was born for this, to show the way, the perfect way. He loves being called upon, loves being able to help.
God of the Ends Justifying the Means Price. He doesn’t particularly like how often he is called upon. Hates it, in fact, absolutely despises how terrorists and dictators call upon him just as often as those trying to do a little good in the world. He often can’t decide if it’s a gift or a punishment for the way he lived his life…but he does what he can. Tips the odds in favor of the good, even if he has to make a deal with a few evil bastards along the way.
God of Bravery Gaz. He often works side-by-side with the others, making sure they’re never too lonely. As Ghost grants the will to keep going, Gaz doses out bravery alongside it, turning bitter defeat into rays of hope. With Gaz by his side, Soap’s gift of precision has even steadier hands. As Price counsels those who need to make a hard decision, Gaz helps them make the right call, no matter how difficult. He was unbelievably shy when he first became a god. But true to his calling, the first time he was needed he suited up and showed up, and was shocked at how much of a difference he could make. He is the trumpet song, the heart of every soldier, beating in time. Intertwined with the rest of the former 141, he keeps them linked and as effective as ever.
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haru-dipthong · 2 months ago
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My Utena Fansub Ep 2 (and Ep 1 rerelease)
Here's episode 2! A huge thank you to @dontbe-lasanya for their incredible efforts at editing my translation!
Also, episode 1 has been revised. I'll update the link on my original posts, but if you're looking at a reblog it will still have the old link. From now on, I'll be posting a link to a folder with all the episodes after each release, so you can easily find old episodes. You can find the new ep 1 and all other episodes as they release here:
Translation Discussion
Utena uses boku. There’s no way to convey this aspect of self-identified masculinity in english, so the translation needs to make up for it in other ways. One way I did this was the “Master” translation of 様 (sama), but this isn’t self-identified (in fact, Utena dislikes the use of 様). I saw a good opportunity to do this here:
まあ、一人部屋らしいから、クールな僕の趣味には合ってるよ。
I think I’ve got a room to myself. Kinda perfect for my bachelor lifestyle. (my translation)
I'm gonna have to be on the lookout in the future for other opportunities for Utena to gender themself masc!
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世界の殻を破壊せ... 世界を革命するために!
Destroy the shell... and revolutionise the world!
Other translations often translate this as "For the revolution of the world!" or "For the sake of revolutionizing the world!". I believe these translations are trying too hard to make explicit the function of ために to express purpose/aim. I think it's unnecessary - a simple "and" will do, because the fact that "revolutionising the world" is the point of "destroying the shell" is wholly self-evident through context.
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I didn’t have space to talk about the A-ko/B-ko translation or Zettai Unmei Mokushiroku in the first post, but there were some interesting decisions to be made!
かしらかしら、ご存じかしら?
My oh my, haven’t you heard? (my translation)
This was in important translation because it gets used so many more times in the show, and it needs to make sense in many different contexts. The shadow girls tend to echo their opening lines in their closing lines:
でも、勇者様、わざと負ける難しさをご存じかしら? かしらかしら、ご存じかしら?
but, sir knight, haven’t you heard how hard it is to lose a fight on purpose? My oh my, haven’t you heard? (my translation)
The opening line needs to be able to be recontextualised from a relatively innocent phrase that signifies the shadow girls are gossiping, to a more sinister taunting of “the knight” for being naive (or, in the first episode, not knowing what they’re getting into).
I went with “my, oh my” for かしらかしら because it sounds a bit old fashioned and feminine, just like the Japanese. I originally had “have you heard?” but it didn’t sound nearly taunting enough when repeated in he closing lines.
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絶対運命黙示録
Certain destiny: the Revelation! (my translation)
Most existing translations have this as “Absolute Destiny: Apocalypse” or “Absolute Destiny: Revelation”.
黙示録 is the word for the Book of Revelation, from the Bible. It’s not just describing any apocalypse, but the Biblical, Christian Revelation. I think “apocalypse” has become more generic in modern English, whereas “Revelation” is decidedly Biblical. This also influenced some of the decisions to jazz up the rest of the song to emphasise the Biblical references.
The word 絶対 can means “absolute” as in “without question”, but “absolute” has other meanings besides this in modern English (e.g. “extreme”). I decided to go with “certain” because I believe the original Japanese is trying to get across the unquestionable destiny of the Revelation: “It’s absolutely going to happen”. Also, maybe I’m too online but I think “absolute” just sounds silly here. Online vernacular has made “absolute” an almost jokey word (e.g. “absolute unit”).
However, I did include the classic name of the song as the lyric at the end of the song before it goes into the syllable switching chant:
絶対運命黙示闇
Absolute destiny: Apocalypse!
Note the slight difference here in the japanese. 闇 means darkness, and 黙示闇 isn't a real word, it's just a combination of "Revelation" and "darkness". The last kanji in the more common 黙示録 means "record" as in "the records of the Revelation", the Book of Revelation. While the meaning doesn't change much with the substitution of 闇, it makes the line feel a bit darker, a bit edgier, which made it feel appropriate to include the edgier classic name of the song here.
出生登録、洗礼名簿、死亡登録
Records of childbirth, records of baptism, records of death. (my translation)
Other translations have this as “birth records” and “baptismal registry”, which I think sound awkward. “Birth records” has too few syllables for the line of the song, and doesn’t sound poetical enough, while “baptismal registry” reeks of someone looking up the word in a dictionary and plopping it in without thinking about how it would sound in a haunting apocalyptic song.
もくし くしも しもく くもし もしく しくも
Revelation, Apocalypse Apocalypse, Revelation
The syllable switching chant is impossible to translate - doing such a thing in English just makes it sound silly. Since this line comes directly after the switch up with the original song name, I decided to use the synonyms Revelation and Apocalypse in an alternating sequence to give the same impression of a haunting, cult-like chant. I think this alone makes the decision to use the original song name worth it! Really happy with how the song has turned out.
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harmonictechnicality · 2 years ago
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Memory Log: Day 52
part 1 here | part 2 here | part 3 here | part 5 here | part 6 here (ao3 link here)
After seeing his ink-smeared biography all over Eddie Munson’s arm, Steve becomes extremely motivated. Obsessed, even.
He assembles a makeshift army. Eddie’s Memory Soldiers, he calls it. Okay - he doesn’t call it that out loud, only to himself (because even Steve is self-aware enough to know how deranged this all sounds).
Steve compiles a ragtag group of Eddie’s friends to nudge his brain along faster. Band mates, theater dweebs, potheads that can carry a tune. All of them bring mixtapes on their visits. After two weekends, there’s already a fuckload of thrashy melodies for Eddie to choose from.
He lets them take the reins on this music-healing plan because there’s no fucking way Steve will be helpful in that department. It means less visits that include his presence, which sort of sucks, but it’s worth it. Worth it to get Eddie back to where he used to be.
Before Steve heads out for one of his morning visits, Robin interrogates him. Asks him the question he’s been ignoring for weeks.
“Steve… not to sound harsh, but why do you care so much?” 
Yeah. Why does he care so much? 
She quickly follows it up with, “I just didn’t know you two were friends now. So I’m just curious, I guess.”
They’re not friends. They’re lukewarm tolerators - tethered together by monster hunting and Dustin Henderson.
They’ve flirted, sure. But who doesn’t? Steve would flirt with half of the leggy cartoon characters that appear on Saturday Mornings if he could. So that’s a weak argument to assume they’re more than just friends. Tolerators. Whatever.
So he lies. To Robin. To himself. Lies so much that it sits in his stomach like motion sickness.
He answers the exact same way he’s been answering since day one:
“I’m just doing this for the kids, Robs.”
He’s pretty sure neither of them are buying that statement. He tries again. Stamps the words onto his confused brain. Considers writing them on his arm just like Eddie might do.
“I’m doing it for them.”
Eddie is always on his Walkman (Steve’s Walkman) now that he has skyscraper of cassettes on his desk. Pretty much every time Steve returns, Eddie is head banging. Won’t stop until the nurses scold him.
Or Steve. He’ll stop if Steve scolds him too.
“You can’t keep jostling up your brain, Munson.” Steve whips the headphones off of Eddie’s ears. “Gonna undo all of our hard work.”
“Our hard work?” Eddie attempts to grab the headphones back. Gives up as soon as their hands make contact. “And who might be included in this our that you speak of?”
“You know…” Me. “The doctors and nurses and your friends.”
“Right.”
This is how things have been going lately. Eddie teases him mercilessly and Steve bats it all away. Doesn’t encourage it for a second.
Which blows so hard because he wants to flirt back. Steve wants to know what Eddie feels like beyond tubes and bandages and hospital gowns. He wants way too much after watching Eddie fall asleep smiling that night. After finding out that Eddie scams his own mind into remembering Steve in technicolor details every day.
But it feels wrong. Deep down, there’s this part of Steve that worries that Eddie only likes the scribbled notes, the good qualities of himself. The non-prickster qualities.
He doesn’t scribble the bad qualities on his arm. Eddie lets himself forget about those every night. 
So it seems wrong. Unfair to let Eddie only remember the good parts of him and take advantage of his weak mind.
Life was a fucking breeze before Steve cared about not taking advantage of people. Shit, he used the world’s biggest advantage-taker before all of this evil wizard nonsense.
“Quiz me, Harrington.” Eddie insists.
So Steve does. Steve goes down the list of questions. Things that Eddie’s memory typically hesitates to recognize. 
Music helps Eddie remember his childhood memories the best.
That’s the biggest discovery they’ve made over the last fourteen days. Tapes that include songs from the early to mid 70’s have the biggest mental impact on his memory skills. Every day, he recalls more moments from his past.
Winter birthday parties. Recess and tire swings. Nineteen chickenpox. A pet hamster named Sterling.
“Can’t believe Wayne trusted you with a living creature.” Steve sneers.
“Never said he did.”
He always gets fuzzy with stuff from the late 70s though. And the early 80s is just a jumbled-up shit show. That’s when Eddie really starts failing his quiz.
“What year did you get the tattoo on your chest?”
“You mean this one?” Eddie pulls down the wrinkly hospital gown, exposing way too much of his collarbone. “Or this one?” He pulls the fabric down even further.
They must’ve finally turned the heat on in this place. Or maybe Steve’s sweater is just extra itchy, scratching his skin all splotchy red. He rubs furiously at the collar, spreads the flush all over by accident. 
His eyes dart up to the fluorescent lights. Away from Eddie’s chest. “Um… the… creepy guy.”
“You’ll sprain your neck looking up like that.”
“Good thing I’m in a hospital then.”
“Okay - seriously, what’s up with you?”
“Nothing.”
“Sure.” Eddie snorts. His heart monitor beeps faster. Steve hates that laughing must be a bit painful for him. “And he’s not some creepy guy. He’s a creepy demon. Please respect the body art and get your facts right.”
“Fine.”
Not flirting back makes Steve feel like he could break out into hives. He has a fucking stockpile of pickup lines. He hoards provocative catchphrases like a horny pack rat. Talking is becoming increasingly difficult when he can’t banter back the way he wants to.
“Don’t remember what year I got it.” Eddie admits. “Sorry.”
Steve pulls his focus away from the ceiling and scribbles that down:
Eddie still can’t remember when he got his tattoos.
“Gee mister,” Eddie imitates a very masculine Shirley Temple voice. “Am I failing the pop quiz already?”
Eddie remembers who Shirley Temple is (weird, but okay).
Eddie does a really shitty impression of Shirley Temple.
Steve just keeps writing. Not even writing words anymore, just moving the pen to stay focused. Stay distracted from flirting.
The energy starts to feel swampy and stiff as he continues to give short responses with lifeless enthusiasm. Steve can tell that Eddie is picking up on the weirdness too. 
He’s so fidgety. Drumming his fingers, twisting the one ring he’s allowed to wear on one of his less busted fingers. Bobbing his knees and kicking off his blankets. 
Eventually, Eddie puts his (Steve’s) headphones back on and closes his eyes. A nonverbal surrender. A borrowed Walkman instead of a white flag. Why does it feel so shitty to see that he is just as defeated as Steve?
Once Eddie is asleep, Steve peaks over at his arms.
The notes are still there. Fading, but there.
It shouldn’t jab him in the heart the way that it does every time he checks, but christ. It’s so fucked up.
Slowly but surely, Eddie is gaining pieces of his past, but never his present. Why the fuck is that? Steve is so selfishly pissed about that because he’s a main role in Eddie’s present life. 
He’s the one that’s here most days. He’s the one that listens to Eddie’s rants and incessant complaints. He’s the one that calls the nurses when Eddie is too prideful to admit when he’s in pain.
Steve should be remembered without smudgey reminders and foggy recollections.
Steve should be un-fucking-forgettable.
After an unhealthy amount of moping, he comes up with an idea. Well, Dustin comes up with an idea, actually. Steve bribed him with nougat and R-rated movie rentals to construct a gameplan.
“And you need Eddie to remember your favorite sweater…why?” Dustin’s mouth is full of chewy candy as he asks.
Steve chucks a raisinette at his dumb hat. “I thought we agreed this was a no questions asked request.”
“You suggested that.” Dustin points at Steve. “I never agreed to it though.”
This is the part Steve despises. If he admits it to others, he has to admit it to himself. And while he’s come a long way since that first day with Eddie, he’s not there yet. His pride can only take so much vulnerability before it fractures completely. “Just… I’m testing a theory I have on his newest memories.”
“Right. And what theory would that be?”
That he thinks about me in kissable ways. “That he remembers more than he gives himself credit for.”
Dustin chugs back his soda and scrunches the can in his grasp. “Okay. Well, the mixtape theory is working decently well with older memories, right?
“Yeah. Definitely.”
“So maybe it can work with newer memories too.”
Steve is lost already. “Meaning?”
“Find songs that relate to you.” Dustin shrugs like duh. He must sense Steve’s hesitation, so he sputters back into his brainy explanation. “Think about it: you’re there all the time -”
“Not all the time, but -”
“Shut the hell up. You’re there all the time, so he must remember the essence of Steve Harrington.”
Steve fake gags. “Don’t say essence, that’s fucking gross.”
“Will you stop interrupting? Jesus christ.” Dustin yells, scrunching the soda can even more with his irritation. “Just make a mixtape with stuff that relates to you. Get his current memories to stick with lyrics and shit.”
Steve twists his mouth to one side. Then the other. “That’s…”
“Genius?”
“I was gonna say worth a shot, but sure.” Steve agrees. “We’ll go with your conceited analysis.”
Dustin finally picks up the raisinette from earlier. Throws it back at Steve. “You should be nicer to me. I possibly just solved your dilemma.”
“I should be nicer to you?” Steve tosses the raisinette into his mouth, despite its questionable duration on the floor. “Dude, you’re never nice to me.”
“Yeah, but it’s affectionate hostility.”
“And that makes it better?”
“Basically, yeah.”
“Fine.” Steve rolls eyes, offers a hand to Dustin. “Thank you for the hostile affection.”
Dustin accepts the handshake. He’s overly smug about it too. “You’re very welcome.”
Memory Log: Day 53
Right away, Steve determines it’s a Kathy Day. Eddie is a verbal nightmare already, whining about the dead batteries in his tv remote.
“I’ll get Sam to grab some batteries when her shift starts.” Steve reassures the bitchy entity possessing Eddie Munson’s body at the moment.
“Why don’t you just get the damn batteries?” Eddie bites back. “You have legs, don’t you?”
“You have eyes, don’t you? Of course, I have fucking legs.” Steve can play it this game. Doesn’t want to but he can be just as obnoxious if Eddie keeps going with his attitude. “Please don’t pull this Kathy shit today.”
That simultaneously shuts them both up for a while. Steve begins flipping through one of the outdated magazines on Eddie’s desk, avoiding the escalated atmosphere. At this rate, there’s no fucking way Steve is going to bring up his mixtape. Kathy/Eddie will probably smash it. Roll over it with the wheels on his imprisoning hospital bed.
Eddie clears his throat, speaking softer than he did at Steve’s arrival. “You know… you were sort of a Kathy yourself yesterday.”
Eddie remembers Steve’s weird mood from the day before (needs to check Eddie’s arm notes to make sure he didn’t write that down).
“Yeah well… I’m allowed to be the pissy one sometimes.” Steve doesn’t look up. He just keeps pretending to read the fossilized magazine in his hand.
“Whatever you say, Harrington.” There’s another pause. Just as awkward as the last one. Their dynamics today are clashing harder than their music styles. Eddie breaks through the awkwardness once again. “So… what’s on the brain agenda today?”
Eddie remembers their pop quizzes.
Right. The quiz. The quiz that Steve has no intention of administering today because he’s supposed to give Eddie this stupid mixtape. 
And look, Steve is pretty good at avoiding shit - homework and phone calls and extended family members. He’s good at dodging shit too, like the relentless one-night stands that can never seem to take a goddamn hint.
But this situation is different because Steve would clearly like to avoid the potential weirdness of giving Eddie Munson a gift. However, he’s innately aware that this particular gift could be helpful. Maybe more to himself than to Eddie, but who knows? If Eddie gets his memory tank back on track and Steve gets someone that reciprocates his affections? 
The payoff might be worth the weirdness.
“I actually wanted to contribute to your…” Steve gestures apathetically at the stack of tapes.
Eddie looks over at them and then back to Steve. “Oh you mean, Munsonopolis?”
“Boooo.” Steve heckles him immediately for that.
“You think of something better then.”
Steve thinks about this way too hard. “The Ed-pire State Building.”
“Boooo.” Eddie imitates Steve’s heckling.
“Better than yours.”
“Says who?”
“Says anyone with a sense of humor.”
“Brave of you to call that a sense of humor.”
“What can I say?” Steve clicks his mouth twice and does the most douchey finger-gun bit, blowing out the nonexistent smoke from each index finger. “I’m something else.”
Eddie bites down over his lip, hard enough that it goes white for a second. Doesn’t take his eyes off of Steve while he bares down.
“You sure are, Steve.”
Oh shit - did they just mindlessly segue onto Flirtation Boulevard without even trying? Is it really that natural with Eddie? Damnit, Steve needs to get his mind on the task at hand.
“Here.” He walks over, lays the tape on Eddie’s lap.
“Is this another one from Gareth?” Eddie flips the tape over, studies the back. “Cause I already assured him that I remember the concert we went to back in ‘84.”
Eddie remembers one of his closest friends.
“No, this one is actually…” Just fucking own up, Steve. “Well, I made it.”
Eddie’s eyes do that sequin thing again. Almost turn into disco balls. “You made me a mixtape?”
Ugh. “Don’t get too flattered, Munson.” 
“Too late.”
Steve was afraid that might be the case. So he does his damndest to channel Dustin Henderson. Provide a scientific explanation to his crush-driven theory. “It’s just an extension of our little music experiment. Some stuff that will help you remember me.”
“And why exactly do you want me to remember you?” Eddie does the same lip biting thing from before. He bites harder, and the color stays white even longer this time.
Steve involuntarily glances down at Eddie’s arm, giving himself away.
“Oh.” Eddie stops biting his lip, swiftly lifts the blankets over his arms. Hiding what Steve already knows is there. “Look… that’s just -”
“You don’t have to explain yourself, really.”
Eddie looks down, nodding in agreement. “Right. But it’s not-”
“Eddie.” Steve places a firm hand on Eddie’s shoulder because he can’t. He can’t listen to whatever Eddie is about to confirm or deny. “It’s okay. I mean it.”
He’s not ready for it, for whatever barricade that’s between them to come crashing down. Steve didn’t bring the proper tools to shield himself from raw emotions or desperate declarations of true feelings. And from the way Eddie goes breathless and tense under Steve’s shoulder-grip, he doesn’t think Eddie has the proper tools for that either.
“So you uh…” Eddie peers down at Steve’s hand. Catches a glimpse then abruptly looks away again. “Do you want me to listen now or…”
God no. Steve releases his grip at that thought. “Wait till I leave.” 
“Got it.”
The rest of the visit goes both fairly smoothly. There are only a few lingering particles of awkward tension left behind. It doesn’t bother Steve, not necessarily. The whole day has been kind of all over the place, just like Eddie’s Literary Behavioral Scale. So this uneasy atmosphere is to be expected.
They talk about movies while Steve packs up his things to leave. Eddie asks about all the new movies that have come out since he’s been in the hospital. Steve tells him to make a list of the ones he’s interested in seeing. Tells him that they’ll have a marathon at his place once they’re released to vhs. Eddie says he knows a guy that sells bootlegs before the vhs release date, but Steve shoots that idea down so fucking fast.
It’s not their usual banter, but that’s okay. At least they're talking. Getting along. Tolerating one another at a lukewarm temperature again.
“Steve?”
“Yeah?” Steve is met with the most anxiety-ridden face. Eddie’s whole forehead is covered in wrinkles, like that one fancy dog breed that his next-door neighbor used to have. There’s no shimmer in Eddie’s eyes, no disco balls. It’s all just dull. Fearful.
“Sorry if the arm thing made you...” Eddie trips over his words. He pinches the skin between his eyes, makes his even more forehead wrinkles. “I don’t know what’s the word I’m looking for.. Uncomfortable, I guess.”
“Don’t worry. It didn’t.” It made Steve a lot of other things: gutted, determined, confused, sulky, smitten. But no. Worried did not make Steve’s grocery list of Feelings.
“Don’t forget to tell Sam about the batteries on your way out.”
Eddie remembers bitching about the batteries.
Yeah, Steve’s memory isn’t the faulty one here. Even so, Steve reassures him:
“I won’t forget, Eds.”
Day 56:
Wayne had a couple days off from work and took over Steve’s Wednesday and Thursday shifts in the hospital. It’s probably for the best - especially since Steve decided to do the most high school shit ever, and gift Eddie a fucking bouquet in the form of radio hits and plastic.
He’s breaking out from the stress, just marinating on what Eddie’s thoughts might be of the mixtape. It can’t be good. None of the songs are his typical riffs of eternal damnation or whatever. But it certainly sounds like Steve Harrington in a Speaker. So it better help him picture Steve dressed in the tackiest, most burnable sweaters imaginable, goddamnit.
But like, why is he breaking out from thinking about Eddie Munson? Absurd. All of it. The feelings and the acne. His weird little crush is making him regress into adolescent woes and it’s pissing him off.
After popping the zit and crossing his fingers that it’s not outrageously noticeable, Steve sucks in a deep breath, and heads into Eddie’s hospital room.
“There’s my favorite Material Girl.” Eddie lowers the headphones, smiles bonus-level wide.
Steve’s gulps. His face feels like a fucking toaster. “I take it you listened to the tape?”
“I didn’t just listen to the tape.” Eddie picks up the Walkman and smacks it against the side of his head. “I practically absorbed that bubblegum bullshit. Think some of it is still stuck in my teeth.”
Steve plays along, hoping that his face will return to its usual complexion. “You should see a dentist about that.”
“With what insurance?”
“That’s fair.” Steve slides his hands into his jean pockets. He’s so rigid. “So?”
“So?”
“Final conclusion?”
“Oh, I hated it.” Eddie says bluntly. “In a very stick-that-syringe-in-my-neck kind of way.”
“Shocker.” Steve actually expected a meaner response than that.
“Why did you put so many songs on there that use Girl in the title?”
“Hey - it’s not my fault that all of the rich poster child songs are about women.” Steve gets defensive about that one. Honestly, it’s true. There needs to be more music about wealthy guys with genetically flawless hair. Somebody needs to get on that shit so Steve can have more songs that apply to him.
“Whatever you say, man.” 
“So did it…” Steve is still standing. Hovering a bit. “Did it help?”
Eddie sticks out both of his arms, flipping to reveal his forearms to Steve.
They’re blank, besides the usual tattoos and contusions. They’re as blank as Eddie’s arms can be at the moment. No more Steve Cheat Sheet to be found.
Steve exhales all of his relief. “And you remember me?”
“Remembering you was never the problem, Steve.”
“It wasn’t?”
Eddie shakes his head. “But if I ever allowed myself to forget, I…” He taps rapidly over the Walkman. Steve’s Walkman. “I just didn’t wanna risk starting over.”
“Oh.”
“With you.”
The metaphorical arrow, the one Steve has alway seen on department store Valentines Day cards, goes straight through his chest. Eddie aims the words with you directly for Steve’s heart. Punctures that wall he built up after Nancy Wheeler.
The monitor connected to Eddie is beeping faster again. It’s not like that day Eddie was writhing in pain. No, it’s a different tempo.
It sounds like his nerves are conducting the pattern. He’s nervous. Steve is making him nervous.
Or Steve’s lack of response is making him nervous.
But how does Steve respond? Is this Eddie giving him permission to flirt back again? To keep driving down the detour of attraction, take the scenic route?
Eddie’s heart monitor is screaming, ‘say something, Steve.’
But Steve’s archive of failed relationships is screaming, back, ‘don’t fuck this up, dickhead.’
Steve tries to meet the two in the middle. Say something inviting yet keep it simple.
“So… do you wanna make fun of the shitty soap operas together?” 
Steve puts a little emphasis on the together part, hoping it’ll tame the monitor. Make the tones evenly paced. He lets his hand tap once against Eddie’s arm. Right over his newly blank wrist. So clean. No more scribbles.
“I don’t know, I’ll have to check my schedule.” Eddie teases with his words, sure. But his hand lifts up. Tapping Steve back. Twice. “I’m a very busy man, you see.”
Steve shoves him away, laughing as he does it. “You’re ridiculous.”
“You’re not wrong.”
His monitor is ballad again.
One of Eddie’s (many) doctors walks into the room during their third hour of mocking the Home Shopping Network. Eddie has developed an elaborate backstory that they’re all cyborgs who are taking civilian money to grow their army of killer robots. Steve is surprisingly on board with this theory after the second hour. Some red headed lady twitches her eyes way too much to be human.
The doctor runs a few tests, looks over Eddie’s chart, the typical procedure. However, at the end of the visit, he decides to put Eddie on a new medication for his headaches. 
Headaches…
Steve flips back to that first day he started visiting Eddie. Finds the note he passive-aggressively took back then:
Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).
He fans through the other pages as well. At least two-thirds of them mention Eddie complaining about headaches. How did Steve miss this? How could he be so stupid? He was too busy fantasizing about Eddie’s chest tattoos and making shitty mixtapes, that he glossed over something so significant.
Dustin wouldn’t have missed this. Robin wouldn’t have missed this. Nancy definitely wouldn’t have missed this - hell, she would’ve already cracked the Case of the Missing Memories by now. 
Steve is the wrong man for this job. Not enough brainpower to fix a broken brain.
“Uh oh.” Eddie says. “Where you’d go, Harrington?”
Steve glances up to see Eddie pointing his finger at Steve’s head. “Just.. thinking.”
“Share with the class, please.”
Steve struggles to make his voice sound causal about this. “I should’ve known about the headaches. Paid better attention.”
“Are you joking?” Eddie asks. “Because if you are, we need to work on your delivery.”
“Not joking, no.”
Eddie’s tone is mildly annoyed, still gentle though. “Stevie… that guy gets paid a shitload of money to figure out my problems. Truly - the reason there’s no pot of gold at the end of the rainbow is because it’s going straight into that guy’s pocket.”
Steve snorts. It’s even funnier to visualize because the doctor is kind of short.
“What I’m saying is, it’s his job to have a big brain.” Eddie’s eye contact is sharp. Broken bottle to his neck sharp. “And your job is to be my eye candy. Sit there and look cute while I try to not hack up my dinner.”
Steve’s hearing went crackly at all of the compliments. “Eye candy, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
Steve no longer has an excuse not to flirt back. Eddie has his mixtape; his arms are bare. He’s obviously encouraging it, even with the knowledge that Steve is a spoiled brat. He likes Steve, not just the good stuff. Eddie is still willing to pursue this even with Steve’s bad qualities.
So fuck it. Steve is gonna delve into his stockpile of pickup lines. He’s gonna rummage around his hoard of provocative catchprashes. Be the horny pack rat that he was born to be.
“Is the sitting part of my job description mandatory?” Steve leans forward, elbows resting on his knees.
“Oh, I’m very lenient on that detail.” Eddie’s voice drops lower. “The cute part… not so much.”
“So you’re only keeping me around for what? My great hair? My symmetrical bone structure? My biceps, maybe?”
“Definitely not your humility, that’s for damn sure.”
They share a smile as Steve gets up, inches closer to Eddie’s bed. He reaches out and pinches the sleeve of Eddie’s hospital gown between his fingers. He cautiously rubs it over a few times, waiting to see Eddie’s reaction to this droplet of affection.
Eddie catches Steve’s wrist with his other hand. Mirrors the rubbing motion Steve set in place with the material.
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Steve nudges Eddie lightly. “Is this okay?”
And before he can even get a response back, Eddie’s face starts turning grayish-green. 
This happens. Eddie throws up biweekly, so it’s not a big deal at all. It’s just that Steve is usually not laying on the moves when Eddie is about to blow chunks. Honestly, it knocks Steve’s astronomical ego down a few notches.
He probably deserves it.
Eddie is really sick. He pukes three more times, and he starts running a fever after the second time. He’s all clammy and curled into a pillow, clutching it with shaky fingers.
It’s all side effects from the new medication apparently. Yeah, Eddie’s head is no longer splitting open, but his body is rejecting all of the cardboard hospital food.
Steve keeps an eye on him, not that he can do much about it. He gets a styrofoam cup of ice chips so Eddie can chew on it whenever his temperature spikes. He wipes the sweat off Eddie’s temples because one - it’s a nice gesture, and two - it gives him an excuse to be nearby.
The shivering is driving Steve crazy though. He’s so on edge just watching Eddie like this. Eddie keeps making jokes like ‘at least I’ll remember your stupid worried face in the morning’ or ‘damn, my past better be worth all of this.’ And Steve will chuckle halfheartedly each time.
The heart monitor is all jumpy now. Even, uneven, even, uneven. If Steve focuses on it for too long, it starts to sound like he’s driving by a highway collision. A pileup of beeps and tones.
He gets another cup of cafeteria coffee. Hopes the bitterness and chalky creamer will be enough to muffle his hearing. Steer his mind to an empty exit lane.
“What? No coffee for me?” Eddie is under an extra blanket now.
Steve scoots his chair even closer to Eddie’s bedside. “What’s the point? You’d just puke it all up.” He’s pretty lousy at supportive words, isn’t he?
“Aren’t visiting hours almost over?”
“You trying to get rid of me, Munson?”
“Never. Just figured you needed to catch the bus or whatever.”
Eddie remembers Steve taking the bus.
“Robin finally gave me my car back.” Steve conveniently leaves out how he demanded  for it to be returned to him. “So, I’ll stay until they kick me out… if that’s cool with you.”
He places his non-coffee holding hand over top of Eddie’s open palm. It’s sort of instinctual. Doesn’t give his mind a moment to wonder if this is crossing a line. 
Holding hands in a hospital doesn’t mean romance. It never has. People do it all time, no one bats an eye at them either. It’s just a gesture of helpless support. It’s what people do to signify, ‘I can’t heal you with medicine, but I can warm your under-circulated skin just a little.’
But when Eddie’s fingers curl around his own, Steve’s stomach swells like its romance. It swells with hot air, helium maybe. It swells and stays swollen. Stays thermal and full.
“Looks like I’m gonna have to pay my eye candy overtime.” Eddie’s face rushes all pinkish-red. Almost as if he’s trying to combat his blush with humor, but it’s not working. He’s all the colors now. And with or without them, he’s attractive.
“You don’t pay me at all.”
“You got me there.” Eddie shakes a frizzy curl in front of his cheek. A poor effort to hide his flushed face. “I’m a terrible employer.”
Steve traces the grooves of Eddie’s palm lines. Pretends that they form a railroad track. “The worst.”
Once his fever finally breaks, Eddie falls asleep. His body unfolds, his fingers uncurl. It’s a heavy sleep, one that makes him all languid and soft. Any traces of bones are questionable now.
And even though Steve is about to pass out from exhaustion, he doesn’t move his hand from Eddie’s. He’d rather give up his whole arm than move it.
Sam peaks in just before Steve nods off. She lets in the bright hallway light, not too much though. Not enough to wake Eddie. Honestly, not a lot of things wake Eddie up these days.
“Sorry.” Steve yawns. “I overstayed my welcome.”
She shrugs, checks the fluids in one of Eddie’s IV bags. “You know, you can stay the night, if you’d like.”
“Really?”
“It’s pretty late… you shouldn’t be driving on the highway at this time of night.”
“Won’t I…” Steve reworks the phrase. Tries to be less selfish about it. “Won’t you get in trouble for letting me stay?”
“Oh no.” She winks. “Because I never saw you here.”
Steve smirks. “Got it.”
“But if I did see you here,” She gestures her head to the door on her right. “I would tell you there’s extra pillows in the linen closet over there.”
Sam deserves a fucking raise. Steve would become a goddamn patron of this hospital just to give her more money. Let the godsend of a woman retire early for christ’s sake.
“Thanks, Sam.” Steve whispers.
“Thank you for keeping him company.” She whispers back. “He’s lucky to have someone like you.”
Steve doesn’t know if that’s true, if Eddie is lucky to have him, but he nods anyway. Gives a gentle wave as Sam heads back out of the room.
He sets the pillow next to Eddie’s leg, keeping their hands connected as he dozes off. Steve falls asleep the same way he used to fall asleep in class. All bent over in his chair, one cheek flattened out on the desk. It’s very reminiscent of that.
Only better because he’s with the guy that makes his chest swell, even when he’s being sarcastic or melodramatic. Even when he’s cobwebbed himself into a maze of cords. Even when he’s bitching about batteries and Steve’s vomit-inducing fashion sense.
Steve thinks maybe he likes the undesirable traits of Eddie Munson just as much as the desirable ones.
And once he’s knocked out entirely, the rhythm of his heart matches the beeping monitor hooked up to Eddie’s chest.
Day 57:
It’s been a long time since Steve has had a decent dream. And this dream he’s in right now? It’s fucking luxurious.
He’s at the hair salon, because of course he is - it’s his home away from home. 
His head is reclining back in that giant sink thing. The one that’s like a soup bowl for hair or whatever. The stylist is shampooing his scalp, scrubbing all of those foamy products into his roots. This is Steve’s favorite part of getting his hair done, he always feels blissed out of his mind afterward.
They keep washing it for the whole dream, digging their nails into his head, dunking water over his hair every so often. It’s downright perfection. A dream he could stay stuck in forever. 
The scenery of the dream flickers out, but the sensations linger as he gains consciousness. His squints both of his eyes open, immediately greeted by too much brightness, too much sunlight. Steve shuts them again, soaking up the remnants of his dream. The hair scratching that’s ongoing even though he’s awake.
Awake.
Steve is awake and can still feel all of that salon paradise. His brain finally wakes up enough to realize it isn’t a dream. It’s Eddie’s hands in his hair, combing it thoroughly.
Fuck, it feels so good too. Steve wonders if Eddie is aware of what he’s doing or if he’s also in that suspended place between awake and asleep.
It doesn’t matter, not really. It all feels way too incredible to care about the logistics. Steve nuzzles deeper into the pillow to hide the happy little hums that keep escaping through his mouth. 
Eddie doesn’t stop. He keeps moving his hand around. Twirling strands and releasing them. Ruffling strands and smoothing them. Massaging the pads of his fingers in all the right places. Every bit of it is dreamy. Better than the dream Steve initially believed to be unbeatable.
Being Eddie’s own personal petting zoo is way better. Miles, light years better. Is there any form of measurement longer than lightyears? Because it’s bigger and better than that too.
Eddie tugs a little harder, just once, but once is all it takes to make Steve melt. He open-mouth sighs into the pillow, hoping the fabric mutes the neediness of it. There’s drool on the pillow and it’s unclear if it’s from when he was asleep or if it occurred just from that one hair tug. 
“Steve?” Eddie’s voice still sounds coated in sleep. “Is this weird?”
Steve shakes his head no, still unable to lift his face from the pillow.
“Should I stop?”
Steve shakes his head much faster. Absolutely not. Stopping should be banished from Eddie’s vocabulary. The word ‘stop’ should be homeless as far as Steve is concerned.
Eddie tugs again, more firmly this time. The tug goes straight to Steve’s dick, which yikes. Humiliating. Yeah, it’s morning and this shit happens, but not this kind of boner. Not one brought on by hair salon fantasies and a metalhead with magical fingertips. This can’t be the reality of Steve’s life right now but somehow, it is.
“I think I combed through all of that cake-up hairspray.” Eddie talks as his hand continues to roam around Steve’s scalp. “Feels like cashmere now, so you’re welcome.”
Steve sighs again, pretty sure it’s much more audible this time because Eddie laughs.
“Embarrassing.” Steve mumbles. That’s all he can muster out without becoming a puddle of humiliation.
“The sounds you’re making?”
Steve nods.
“Oh that is not the adjective I would’ve gone with.” Eddie claws his fingers all the way down to Steve’s neck. “Not even close.”
Steve is all hormones now, all slurred speech and thoughtless words. “So good, Eddie.”
“Oh my god.” Eddie whines, sounds breathier than Steve. “You cannot say my name like that when I’m in a tissue-thin gown.”
Steve wants to sneak a peek, see if what Eddie is suggesting holds any truth. He resists, only because he’s trying to sort out his own tent-pitching problems at the moment.
He gradually lifts his head off of the pillow, back cracking as he straightens his spine out after hours of being shaped like fucking tetris piece. It’s the last thing he wants to do because it means Eddie has to take his hand out of Steve’s hair. But as Eddie pulls away, his knuckles brush against Steve’s ear, awakening this newfound urgency to not let this moment fizzle out.
Steve hops up onto the bed, sitting side-saddle next to Eddie. He looks through Eddie’s eyes, the ones that remind him of shimmery dresses and the backseat of his car on prom night. He looks through to find a reason to stop his actions. Stop his need to touch Eddie’s jawline or thumb over his lips. He’s searching for a reason to stop and finding none whatsoever.
“Do you remember me?”
“You’re Steve Harrington.” Eddie kind of stutters as he says it. “Hometown Slut extraordinaire.”
The nerdy bastard is never going to let that one go.
Steve gives a quiet laugh, leaning in to his impulses. He slides his thumb over Eddie’s bottom lip, curving around, mapping invisible outlines. A blueprint for his imagination when they’re apart later. “Am I reading this wrong?”
Eddie’s gaze is glued to Steve’s lips as he shakes his head no.
“Good.”
Steve uses his free hand to lift himself up, get closer. Breathing in the same stale oxygen, sucking up the same early morning courage, existing in the same dizzying climate.
He can feel Eddie exhale softly over his skin when there’s a knock at the door.
Steve has never stood up so fast in his damn life. Gets a head rush that’s so overwhelming that his vision speckles out momentarily. 
It’s Sam. Thank god it’s only Sam. But also, screw god for interrupting what almost happened just now. Not cool, sky man.
“Just a heads up,” she starts, shutting the door behind her. “You have another visitor that just arrived.”
Right. It's the weekend.
Steve and Eddie say it in unison. “Dustin.”
Sam hums in reply. “I can stall him for a couple minutes. Give you time to sneak out the stairs that are tucked in the back hallway.”
“You’re the best.” Steve says. “I’ll be quick.”
She leaves, cracking the door on her way out.
Both of them just look at each other for a moment. There’s no time to even discuss the events that just took place. No time to recover the kiss that is already sneaking out the back hallway stairs.
Steve nervously whistles. “So…”
“I’ll see you Monday?”
“Monday.” 48 hours apart seems insane. “Yeah.”
Steve hurriedly makes his way to the door - refusing his horny impulses the opportunity to kick back in and ruin everything. “See you later, Eds.”
Eddie licks over his bottom lip - the one Steve mapped out with his thumbprint. “Later, sailor.”
Um. What?
Steve’s eyes go large. “What did you just call me?”
“Go.” Eddie flashes the wickedest grin. “We’ll talk all about your ocean of flavor on Monday.”
This can’t be happening. “Ocean of -”
“Get out of here already!”
Steve flings himself out of the room, sprinting down the hall. Does Eddie actually recall Steve working at Starcourt? How can that be possible? Steve doesn’t remember seeing Eddie outside of school ever. 
Plus, they’ve never even talked about his job at Scoops Ahoy. Family Video? Sure, that’s more recent. But Scoops? Steve tries to forget just about everything from his time at that seaside shithole.
Goddamnit, this is confusing. The hair foreplay. The almost-kiss. The nautical nickname. Confusing is an understatement. Steve needs to go back to high school and learn a better word for what this is. Confusing isn’t cutting it anymore.
If Steve can make it till Monday without spiraling into a bucket of nerves, he deserves a fucking trophy.
And a kiss on the lips.
Mostly the second option (although a trophy would be nice too). 
957 notes · View notes
fourmoony · 10 months ago
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Friends or What?
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James Potter x F!Reader
A coming of age story in which Potter's Corner Shop has a funny way of bringing people together. Falling in love is daunting when everyone is watching.
Ao3 Link (chapters will be uploaded here the day before Tumblr).
CW: For Chapter One, the content warnings include: Use of the word 'fag', but in context to a cigarette (UK slang) Foul language A minor using the word 'shagging' Smoking/Drinking alcohol A comment about hoping someone chokes Threat of caving someone's head in with a baseball bat (it's lighthearted, I swear) Implied internalised homophobia Mentions of fighting
Please be aware that this fic will contain multiple hard to read scenes, and I completely understand, if because of this, you choose not to read :) it's a coming of age fic, while there'll be lots of fluff and happy moments, there'll also be lots of hard, uncomfortable moments, too. Please, please, do not make yourself uncomfortable.
CHAPTER ONE (7k) -
Sirius is stocking the fag drawers, behind the counter, when you come in through the shop door. The little bell above the wooden frame dings to announce your arrival. Sirius doesn’t turn upon hearing the bell, nor does he acknowledge there’s even anyone in the shop. You follow his lead, heading up the sweetie aisle, wiggling your fingers as you go, lips puckered in anticipation as you search of the cherry lollies you know were delivered this morning. Whether or not Sirius has bothered to unload the pallet yet is a strong factor in whether you’ll find them sitting where they’re supposed to be. Your eyes scan the shelves, there are no cherry lollies to be found. No worries, you think, picking up a fashion magazine as you pass the stand.
You walk the loop of the shop, hear the bell ding in the distance signal someone else has come in. It smells like newspapers and the inside of the fridges that line the back wall of the shop; the radio crackles through tinny speakers, playing the UK Top 40 and you just know Sirius is hating every minute of it. When you approach the till, Sirius still has his head in the fag drawer, whistling along to his own song, radio be damned.
“You didn’t put the cherry lollies out, lazy arse,” you say.
Sirius jumps, turns as though you might be standing there with a balaclava and machete, ready to demand he open and empty the till. He rolls his eyes when his brain catches up with the situation, head bobbing to the left where the storeroom door sits, a pale blue, creaky thing that drives everyone insane on stock days with its constant whine every time it opens and closes, “Help yourself.”
The storeroom is cold and dark, but spacious, with piles of overflow stock lined up against the walls, organised into specific sections. It’s almost scary how neat it is. There’s a pallet in the middle of it all, wrapped in black plastic that’s been ripped at the top; likely Sirius taking the fags out. You scan the pile with a frown, knowing it’ll be an annoying game of Jenga trying to find the lollies without pulling everything else down with them. It takes a while, and a bit of rearranging, but you find the tub and return to Sirius with a triumphant smile. The customer that followed you in is filing out the door, so you allow Sirius to scan your items and give him the money.
“You should be about halfway through that pallet by now, it’s gone one in the afternoon, you know.” You chastise Sirius playfully.
He scowls when you sit on the counter beside the till one leg curled up and tucked underneath you, the other swinging back and forth, kicking and wobbling the specials display underneath the till. He knows he’s not getting rid of you any time soon when you flip open your magazine, unwrap your lolly, and stick it in your mouth.
“It showed up late. Problem with a road closure, or something.” Sirius replies, turning back to the drawer.
He rips open a packet of Sterling Duals and starts stuffing them into the drawer. You hum, amused, “That what you’re going to tell Effie?”
Sirius scoffs, an air of arrogance to him when he looks over his shoulder, long, black hair flicking with the movement, “It’s the truth. Plus, Effie never shouts at me. You know this.”
“Perks of being the boss’s son.”
Sirius seems to preen at your jab over his nepotism. He’s always very happy to be known as Euphemia and Fleamont Potter’s son. You don’t know much about his situation, just that the Potter’s took Sirius in when he was sixteen and none of them ever looked back. He’s happy and he’s cared for, and he seems to love being their son. So, you don’t ask. It’s none of your business, anyway.
The bell dings again and you and Sirius both look over out of habit. You have to lean past the roll stand to your left to fully see who’s came in, but when you catch sight of James, your grin grows wider. James Potter is Euphemia and Fleamont’s son. Biological son. Granted, that doesn’t matter with the way Effie fawns over Sirius like he was the biological one. She claims to love them the same. You secretly think Sirius is the favourite, though you have no idea why. He’s an insufferable shit, most of the time. James is nice. He’s bright and always happy, a proper ray of sunshine which, on the bad days, can be a little annoying.
It’s rather hard to be angry at the world when James Potter is standing there with his stupidly pretty grin and his big brown eyes, spouting such optimism into the world that things just start to feel better because he says they will.
“Delivery came late, mate. Just got it half an hour ago.” Sirius doesn’t even greet his best friend with a ‘Hello’, just moves straight onto damage control over the fact he’s still restocking the fag counter at one o’clock in the afternoon.
“Don’t listen to him, Jamie,” You say, popping the cherry lolly out of your mouth to talk properly, “He’s a dirty liar. Lazy arse, too.”
James laughs, approaches where you’re perched on the counter and stands so close you can smell his aftershave. It’s a bit of a cliché, honestly; fancying your boss’s son. Well, really, he’s your friend before he’s Effie and Monty’s son. You’ve always been friends. Since before you started working at the shop. Since school, really. But still. The cliché sits a little clunky in your chest sometimes. Especially when he looks as handsome as he does, today. He’s wearing his rugby jumper and a pair of joggies. Really, it’s nothing special. But he looks so soft. So cosy. His hair is all mussed up from the wind and his glasses are a little squint.
You reach out a manicured finger to push them further up his nose and he smiles down at you. Yeah, you think, pathetic.
“Are you here to work or cause trouble?” James asks with a teasing smile whilst Sirius sputters at your accusations.
“I can multitask, you know,” is your reply, words sweet as honey, “But to answer your question, no, sadly I am not here to work.”
“And yet you’re still here, annoying me with your presence.” Sirius mumbles.
You roll your eyes, turn to James with pouted lips, “See the way he talks to me?”
In James’s defence, he plays the game. See how far you can push each other before the other gets flustered and has to walk away. Last week he gave you a taste of your own medicine so bad that you had to stand in the stock room like an idiot for five minutes counting tins of beans until your face returned to its normal colour. You’re good at putting up a front, acting like whatever the two of you are doing doesn’t effect you, that you’re cool, calm, and collected about the whole thing. But the tins of beans in the stock room would tell a different story, could they talk. You’re glad they can’t, as silly as that thought is.
James, bless him, humours you – much to Sirius’ dismay – and coos, brows furrowed in mock-sympathy, “Poor soul.”
“Okay, fine, if this was your plan to get me to do the pallet, I’ll go.” Sirius finally breaks, hands held up in surrender.
It wasn’t your plan, but you watch him leave with an amused smile.
“The road into the village was shut, I know the delivery was actually late.” James laughs to himself.
“Hm,” You hum, ditching your magazine to the side and swinging your legs over the counter until you’re standing behind it, “Me too.”
“Thought you weren’t working today.”
You shrug, picking up where Sirius left off with the fags, your back turned to James, “I’ll do these and then I’ll be off.”
“Thanks.” James rounds the counter the normal way, punching his clock in card on the machine beside the till.
You look up, find him leaning against the counter by his hip, a small smile on his face. He’s so charming, you think.
“Don’t thank me,” You warn, the ghost of a mischievous smirk dancing across your face, “I’m putting them all in backwards, so he has to redo them all.”
“You know how he gets about the fag drawers,” James groans, because he knows he has to spend the rest of the day listening to Sirius gripe about whatever it is you’re about to do. “They’re his… area.”
“Yeah, well,” You shrug, “He didn’t put the cherry lollies out.”
James doesn’t have an answer for that. He just huffs a laugh and reaches for a packet to open and starts to pass you them.
-----
‘The Saturday Girls’, or so they’re nicknamed, are nice. They’re so coined because they only work Saturdays to help with unloading the bulk of the delivery that comes that morning. It’s a weekend job, perfect for them because they’re still in school, and it offers them a bit of pocket money. It would’ve been a dream job for you at fifteen, but Shauna and Lisa sometimes seem like having to work a shift in Potter’s Corner Shop is the bane of their entire teenage existence. Like now, Shauna stands leaning up against the end of the third aisle, passing Lisa packages of toilet rolls off the trolley with a sardonic look on her face.
You can hear them talking about a girl in their form class, how she’s after Shauna’s boyfriend and it brings unwanted flash backs of being that age, that naïve, when the idea of someone stealing your boyfriend felt like the end of the world. Really, they should have a trolley each, working on separate aisles. But you don’t get paid enough to boss them around; and if Shauna’s insults to whatever girl is trying to steal her man are anything to go by, you don’t actually want to be on her bad side.
Sirius has taken a falling out with the fag drawers since your ruin of them, yesterday, and so you’ve spent the better part of the morning facing them all the correct way. There’s a box of clipper lighters on the floor at your feet to be unloaded, too.
“I’m too scared to tell them that putting toilet roll on the shelves isn’t a two-woman job,” James appears behind you following the nerve grating squeak from the storeroom door, leaning on the counter with a lopsided smile.
He’s placed the clipboard with all of today’s stock details on the counter, pen tucked neatly under the clip of it. You know he’s here for your signature, cutting the job in half for you by doing the inventory himself. He likes numbers, you hate them, he’s happy to do it so long as he doesn’t have to fix the mess you created in the fag drawers. Besides Sirius, you’re the only person to be trusted in Sirius’ sacred area. Ironically enough. You pick the pen up with a hum, scribbling your name to state you were here when the delivery arrived this morning, “Some poor girl in their form is getting it tight, today. Shauna thinks she’s after her man.”
James laughs airily, “So I shouldn’t go over there and intervene?”
“Best not. I’ll come up with something I need help with in five, ask her to help me. Just need to finish these, first.” You say, waving a packet of JPS Red around so James knows what you’re talking about.
“Thanks,” Is James’ reply, “For the signature and for saving me from getting called a daft bint, or something, behind my back.”
Your laugh is bubbly and comes out of your mouth so fast you don’t have time to be embarrassed about it. It makes James laugh, too, low, and throaty as he taps the pen against the clipboard. He shakes his head and makes his retreat to the office at the back of the storeroom, likely to file the inventory sheet for Monty to look over on Monday. It only takes you a few more minutes to fix the rest of the fags, all in their correct places, all facing the correct way. The clippers are unloaded haphazardly into the tub in the bottom drawer, and then you’re off, on the hunt for Shauna.
She and Lisa have made it to the baby wipes when you come down the aisle that they’re in. Shauna is leaning against the trolley now that she doesn’t have the wall at the end of the aisle to lean on, and she’s passing Lisa the packets one by one. Lisa has her head ducked into the shelf to reach all the way to the back, but Shauna straightens up when she sees you round the corner.
“Hey, you okay to help me build some stuff up in the storeroom to get it off the pallet?” You ask.
There’s an empty box on the trolley that you reach for, pulling it apart until it’s flat and you can stick it inside the bag on the back of the trolley. Shauna gives a longing glance to Lisa, as though being parted from her will bring her physical pain. It’s quite comical, really. A small part of you misses being so young and carefree. Shauna nods, following you to the storeroom.
James is holding the door open on your way past, “I’ll keep an eye on the till.”
You thank him and Shauna follows you through. There’s not much to be unloaded, really. You and James got the majority done this morning when it arrived, and so its overstock that’s left. Shauna follows your lead, knowing by now where everything goes. There’s cereal and biscuits, teabags and coffee jars, there’s alcohol and fizzy juice. Shauna doesn’t talk much while you work, which isn’t surprising. She’s rather quiet and subdued with the rest of the staff, most of the time. Without Lisa to bounce off of, Shauna doesn’t usually say much.
“How long have you and James been together?” Shauna asks out of nowhere.
It’s less surprising to hear her starting conversation than the question she’s actually asked, which is saying something. The box of ready salted crisps in your hands go toppling backwards from where you’d been reaching to put them on top of the pile as you twist to face her, eyebrows somewhere near your hairline. The girl looks nonplussed, lifting a crate of Red Stripe and placing it with the other alcohol against the wall closest to the door.
“Sorry?”
You can’t quite find the words, brain reeling at a mile a minute because have other people noticed whatever game you and James are playing and assumed you’re together? That’s incredibly embarrassing and unprofessional. Shauna doesn’t seem to notice your confusion as she barrels on, seemingly in her own world, “It’s just cause, me and this boy from school have been going out for, like, a month, yeah?”
She doesn’t actually wait for your response as she picks up another crate of beer and sticks it on top of the pile she’s created, “And this girl from my form keeps trying to text him. He’s told me he’s ignoring her, but I dunno if I believe him.”
“Right.” You say, a bit dazed, trying to keep up with what she’s saying whilst trying to put together what this would have to do with you and James.
“I guess I’m just wondering what you’d do if it was another girl trying to get with James. Like, would you go barmy?” Shauna asks, and you can tell there’s a hint of insecurity in there somewhere.
Picking up the crisps you’d dropped rather ungracefully, you tell her, “Well, James and I aren’t together. Like, at all. But if it was someone I really liked, I’d be a bit upset, I suppose. If he says he isn’t replying, I’d believe him until he gives you a reason not to.”
Shauna seems pleased with that answer, but feels the need to add, “Anyone would think you and James are together. Or, at the very least, shagging.”
There’s really nothing you can say to that, is there? It knocks the wind out of you, flusters you, and concerns you all at once. What do fifteen-year-olds know about shagging? Well, you suppose it’s all your friends wanted to talk about at fifteen, too. But. Well. No. Just, no.
“Right,” Shauna breaks your flustered silence by dusting her hands on the side of her trousers, “That it, then?”
Right enough, the pallet is empty. You open your mouth to talk but find nothing will come out, so you close it and nod. She files out of the storeroom after shooting you a weird glance but doesn’t feel the need to add anything more. You count tins of beans until your brain decides it can function again.
“The Saturday Girls have got to go.” You tell James when you slip behind the till ten minutes later.
He breaks his focus from the screen the security camera’s run on, eyebrows narrowed in concern, “She said something?”
You wave your hand, 'nothing too bad', it signals, “Asked how long we’ve been shagging.”
James promptly chokes on air, pounds his chest a few times with wide eyes. You wonder if you should be offended, or if he’s just genuinely surprised Shauna was so brass necked about the whole ordeal. You settle on a nod and a placating look, exactly, you think.
“She’s like, twelve.”
Huffing a laugh, you correct him, “Fifteen, actually. But still, I dropped a box of crisps, nearly toppled the whole tower I was so gobsmacked.”
“What,” James laughs after, “at the suggestion of shagging me, or her boldness?”
If there’s one thing James Potter knows how to do, it’s get under your skin. He’s wearing that signature knowing smirk, the one he wears when he’s thinking something mischievous, or he knows exactly what you’re thinking, feeling, like he can see right into your soul. He’s a prick, you decide. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
The thing is: this game is slowly spiralling into more than you can handle. It’d started as an easy way to irritate Sirius, then an even easier way to make the boring shifts go in quicker, then it was just fun. Watching the way his tongue pokes the side of his cheek when he’s considering a rebuttal, or trying to hide a smile, the way his jaw clenches when you come in on your days off wearing tight clothes, only to perch yourself on the edge of the counter and promptly tease him all day. It’s fun. But now it’s too much. James is too much. Because at the start, he’d get shy and flustered, brush you off in a polite manner. But now. Well, now he’s an evil shit who likes to make you weak and hot and bothered and all of the in-betweens every chance he gets.
“Jamie,” You smile, sweet as honey, eyes doe-like and offering him the challenge, “You couldn’t handle me.”
The minute James shakes his head, hair flopping to the side, tongue pushed into his cheek, you know you’ve won this round. He slinks off to find another job for Shauna to do, who you can see on the security cameras has gone back to passing Lisa things off of the trolley.
Twenty-six tins of beans. There are twenty-six tins of beans in the storeroom.
-----
The rota goes like this: Monday: Monty, open. You and James, close. Tuesday: Sirius and James, open. Remus, close. Wednesday: Effie, open. Monty, close. Thursday: Remus and James, open. You and Sirius, close. Friday: Sirius, open. Effie, close. Occasionally James, close. Saturday: You and James, open. Effie and Monty, close. Sunday: Monty, open. You and Remus, close.
The open shift runs from seven o’clock in the morning, until two in the afternoon, and the close shift runs from two o’clock in the afternoon, until ten o’clock at night. Potter’s is the only shop in the village open until ten, and it’s a busy shop because of this. Probably, also, because the Potters are well known, well liked, and well respected.
But the main thing to note about the rota is that Sirius Black and Remus Lupin are never scheduled to work a shift together. Ever. The simple reason is because they don’t get on. Like, despise each other for a reason that is unbeknownst to you, and even James, who is Sirius’ best friend in the entire world, his brother. Personally, you think their beef is pointless. But the delivery driver who dropped off the Saturday pallet five months ago and ended up having to break up a petty argument between the two would likely disagree. Apparently, some harsh words had been said between the two, and after the Potter’s decided Sirius was just as much an instigator as Remus was easy to snap, and that both of them were irreplaceable as workers, the new rota was made, stapled to the office wall, never to be changed, and with their names never beside each other.
It’s strange, to you, because Sirius and Remus are both lovely. You enjoy working with both of them. Separately, of course. They seem to know that in the situation of their hatred of each other, you and James are both Switzerland. You’ll listen to them rant about each other, sympathise with their feelings, but ultimately add nothing of note to the conversation. Sometimes you think that bothers them more. Unfortunately, there’s no avoiding their hatred of each other every Saturday in the pub, but they’ve become increasingly better at tolerating each other’s presence. It no longer ends in one or the other storming out of the pub or offering to meet each other outside for a scrap. Small wins. You’ve no idea where they get the energy to put so much effort into their animosity towards each other. A small part of you actually thinks they enjoy getting each other riled up to the point of snapping, the same way you and James do, just with more insults and less innuendos. Each to their own, you suppose.
Remus has his foot kicked up against the wall with a fag in his hand when you near the shop door. He’s staring across the road at the small play park, looking rather lost. There’s a group of kids on the swings, laughing and chatting away. They’re young looking. Ten, maybe eleven. When he notices you, Remus seems to snap out of whatever daydream he’s in, eyes softening and his lips turning upward into a smile. It pulls at the scar slicing across his cupids bow, taught, but paling out at the stretch. There’s a number of scars that litter Remus’ skin, the product of a nasty car crash he was in as a child. You don’t notice them as much, now, as when he first started working at Potter’s. They’re just part of who he is, and they make him no less handsome.
“Here even on your day off,” Remus tsks, passes you the cigarette.
You have a draw, blowing out the smoke with the ghost of a teasing smile on your lips, “Someone’s got to mind the till on your eighteen fag breaks.”
Remus laughs, accepting of the jab, “Monty’s in today. Shops not totally unmanned.”
“Ah,” You hum, passing him the fag back, “Unusual for him. He usually runs off the minute his shift finishes.”
He nods, sandy hair flopping in a mess of curls on top of his head. “Something about having to find a new supplier, the drivers for Zonko’s are complaining about having to drive into the village.” Remus speaks through an exhale, the wind carrying the smoke along the street.
He flicks the fag to the ground and follows you inside, finding his place behind the till whilst you meander down the aisles, still content in having the conversation, “That’s ridiculous. It’s only fifteen minutes off the motor way.”
Remus makes a noise of agreement but doesn’t say anything else until you return to the till with a cherry lolly and a magazine. He looks at your purchases with an enhanced non-surprised glance, eyes flicking up to ask with a simple look if you could be any more predictable. You shrug, hand him a fiver, and he passes you your change.
“Think they’re just annoyed because the only road into the bloody place is always closed because that daft Mr. Filch keeps forgetting to shut his gate and the cows always escape.” Remus comments, closing the till.
You take up your usual space, to the left of the till, leg tucked under you, subconsciously kicking the specials stand with your free foot. The customers are never surprised to find you sitting here. Most of them often comment that you’re like the store’s very own cat. Always lurking, happy to sit, and watch the people go about their days. Really, you just like to annoy whoever is working. Unless it’s Effie or Monty. They usually put you to work if you hang around for too long.
“They should really just bolt that bloody fence shut. He’s always losing his cows.”
“He does it on purpose. I don’t know why, yet, but he does.” Remus theorises, his brows furrowed as though it’s some great mystery as to why old Argus Filch is always letting his cows run free, as though he has some ulterior motive.
Perhaps he does. You’ve never given it much thought.
“They should switch to Ollivander’s, anyway. I’ve been telling them for months that they’re better priced. Plus, they’re closer, the delivery charge wouldn’t be as much.” You say, eyes scanning the pages of your magazine.
The cherry lollypop rattles off your back teeth, something you know drives Remus insane. You don’t stop.
“They don’t stock Pettigrew’s butcher meat, though.” Remus counters.
Pettigrew’s Butchers is the most sought-after Butcher meat in the village, and Potter’s is the only place that stock it. It’s what drives in most of the customers, you’d argue. It’s good meat. You’ll give them that. It’s why Effie and Monty have been hesitant to drop Zonko’s as their distributor because they’ll lose their access to Pettigrew’s. Truly a conundrum in the eyes of the village. You flick to the next page, shrugging, “It’s only a forty-minute drive out of the village. Wouldn’t Pettigrew deliver it himself?”
“What, every morning?”
You sigh, long and suffering. This conversation is, truly, boring. You love Remus. You do. Really. But you miss Sirius. Or James. Remus seems off, today. He’s less humorous, less sarcastic. You won’t push. You know he doesn’t like that. But you shouldn’t have to suffer the world’s most boring conversation because of it. Perhaps that’s selfish of you.
“Zonko’s doesn’t even deliver to us, every morning. Just have Pettigrew's tie in with the days we get from Ollivander’s.” You suggest, though, you know there’s nothing Remus can do about it.
It’s a conversation best had with Monty or Effie. Even James. But they’re smart. They’ll likely figure it out on their own. You hop off the counter, pulling the lolly from your mouth as you go, “Either way, it’s going to be a shit few weeks if we don’t have a distributor. I need to go, meeting Sirius for a cuppa at the Leaky.”
You wince as soon as the words come out of your mouth, watching as Remus’ expression falls.
“Hope he chokes on his cuppa.” Remus mutters, though a saccharine smile comes across his lips.
You roll your eyes, pointer finger already aimed at him, “Behave!”
He holds his hands up in mock surrender, though you know behaving is the last thing Remus Lupin will ever do when it comes to Sirius Black. It’s ridiculous.
“Give Monty my love.” You say in ways of a goodbye and Remus waves you off.
You pretend not to hear when he tells you to give Sirius the middle finger for him.
-----
“You’re a genius, you know.” Sirius says, sitting your drink down in front of you.
The pub is, strangely, quite quiet. There’s a family of four in the far corner, eating a meal in stoic silence – awkward – and a group of older women by the bar, a bottle of champagne in an ice cooler on the table and bubbling glasses in each of their hands. Of course, you and Sirius were the last to arrive, meeting the rest of your friends at the only large table the Three Broomstick’s own, which lead to him shooing you off to get a seat and buying your drink for you. You won’t complain. Your regular table is already a mess of empty pint glasses from James, Remus, and Frank, and two empty wine bottles from Lily, Mary, and Marlene. Alice is on nightshift at the police station, a lucky feat for everyone because it means there’ll be no tequila shots tonight. Fine by you.
It’s a long table that you all occupy, with two benches running along either side, and no matter how busy the pub is, people always seem to know not to sit there. None of you would mind if they did, really. But it’s just something people don’t do. Your group has been coming to the Three Broomsticks since you were seventeen (not that Rosmerta, the owner, knows that), minus Remus, who moved to town seven months ago, wandered in for a pint one night, and unfortunately for him, got stuck with you lot.
“Mm,” You hum, cheeks puffing out in your pleased smile, “I know. Do feel free to tell me why, though.”
Sirius guffaws, rolling his eyes at your theatrics – as though he isn’t the carbon copy of you, just in male form – “For the Ollivander’s idea. Well, tying it in with Pettigrew’s, at least.”
“What?”
You hadn’t told anyone about that idea. Anyone other than Remus, at least, who looks incredibly sheepish when your eyes flick to him further along the table, conveniently out of arms reach of Sirius. James, who swallows a gulp of his pint before he speaks, looks incredibly cheerful when he says, “Yeah! Dad loved that idea. He didn’t even consider asking Pettigrew’s for a private contract. He didn’t think they’d be up for driving into the village, but turns out the son, Peter, delivers to the next town over twice a week, anyway.”
“Right.” You nod, taking a sip of your drink to wash the awkward feeling that’s settled over you away.
Really, you hadn’t meant to form some type of master plan.
“Sorry.” Remus winces.
“Why’s he sorry?” Sirius is quick to question, ever the one to start an argument, “What’s he done now?”
Remus scoffs, “Funny you think I’ve done something.”
“Well, you were the one apologising.”
“He’s not done anything, Sirius. Give it a rest, both of you.”
That shuts them up.
“I told Monty about her idea after she left on Tuesday.” Remus admits, looking rather sheepish.
Sirius seems placated enough with his answer, so he shrugs and enters into a conversation with Frank and James, who lost interest the minute Remus and Sirius started bickering. You assure Remus that it’s okay, waving him off before nudging your head further down the table, inviting him into the conversation with Lily, Mary, and Marlene.
Lily is complaining about her job in the council office. She’s pretty high up, though, you couldn’t for the life of you tell someone what it is she actually does, had they asked. Something to do with the local MP. There’s a shit tonne of paperwork and multiple people who Lily thinks are, in her words, so far up their own arse, they forget they’re civil servants and not, in fact, the be all and end all of the world. Her job is highly stressful, as is obvious by the empty bottle of wine in front of her, even though it’s not long gone five o’clock. Lily Evans worked incredibly hard to be where she is, though, the fireball of a human that she is, and she’ll be damned to ever give up, now. You admire her, really. She grew up in the village, like all of you except Remus, noticing the prejudice it held, the unfair situations people lived in, the real issues the place held, rather than what every other member of the council saw as ‘issues’, and she went to University, got her degree, came right back, and got to fucking work. She hasn’t solved world hunger yet, but you’re sure she’s well on her way to it. If there’s anyone who can do it, it’ll be Lily Evans.
Mary and Marlene are listening intently, especially Mary, who’s been begging the council to fund the one primary school the village has, Hogwarts, more substantially than it has in previous years. She’s a teacher there, and she loves it with every bit of her being, but the school is incredibly underfunded, so she and Lily have been working on a campaign to bring it to the Council’s attention. They’re making progress. But not as quick as Mary would like. That much is obvious in the way she rants about Lucius Malfoy and his pretentious, pompous, personality. He is a bit of a prick, honestly. He’s the head of the school board committee for the village, and he’s the main reason the school hasn’t received the funding it’s needed in almost ten years. He’s a toad.
Marlene, even though she couldn’t give less of a shit if she tried, is listening, anyway. She’s a good friend, Marlene, but past her friends, her family, and music, there isn’t much Marlene McKinnon really gives a toss about. You commend her for it really, her no-fucks-given attitude towards the world, the way she’s so carefree, and lives her life how she wants, no matter what. She’s laid back and honestly, doing better than the rest of your friends in adulthood. She’s the only one out of the lot of you who hasn’t had a full-scale meltdown, so far, this year. Or ever actually. You don’t remember the last time you saw Marlene truly upset about something.
“Honestly, Mary, you’d think he’d give more of a shit about funding things like the school’s library, considering his wife’s due any day now and his kid will likely attend Hogwarts.” Lily seems truly frustrated, her shoulder slumped, her index finger circling the rim of her wine glass.
“He’ll probably send his little demon spawn to some posh boarding school, knowing him. More money than bloody sense.” Comes Mary’s equally frustrated response.
She necks the rest of her glass in one gulp, shivers, and then sends Marlene off to procure another bottle. She goes without complaint, so you assume it’s her round.
“Surely it’s not legal to withhold funding from a school in such dire need of it.” Remus comments, ever the pessimist.
He thinks the worst of everyone. Especially Mr. Filch and his disappearing cows. He thinks he has an ulterior motive and he’ll die on that hill.
“Apparently there is no funding. And he won’t even push for any, either. It’s like he doesn’t give a shit that the school under his jurisdiction is struggling, majorly.” Lily replies, rolling her bright green eyes at the mere idea of Lucius Malfoy.
“There’s something not right about that.” You add, frowning.
Surely, he’d want his school to thrive. Apparently not.
“You’re telling me.” Mary pipes up.
“Anyway, enough work talk,” Lily says around a gulp of wine, waving her hand like it’ll banish all of the negative vibes Lucius has caused by simply existing, “How’d your date go with the handsome paper boy, Rem?”
Remus grimaces, “Don’t call him a paper boy, it makes him sound twelve years old.”
The story goes: Remus thought that someone was trying to break into his house, last month. Upon inspecting the situation with a baseball bat that everyone knows for a fact Remus does not know how to use, he met a rather startled, rather handsome paper boy named Christopher. Of course, Remus only learned this after he tried to cave the poor bloke’s head in with said baseball bat, only to find out that it was Christopher’s first day on the job and he had delivered the paper to the wrong house. After copious amounts of apologies, Remus had claimed he was fine with never seeing Christopher again. Until he realised that the paper’s he was delivering came directly from Potter’s. A travesty, really. Sirius howled with laughter, much to Remus’ dismay, and Effie had slipped an extra fiver into Christopher’s wages in ways of an apology. Turns out, no apology was needed, because Christopher, for whatever reason, took a liking to Remus and asked him out for coffee.
“Okay, your date with Christopher, then.” Lily corrects with a smirk.
“Wasn’t a date,” Remus singsongs, because he’s insecure and adamant that no one could ever fancy him. Even though you’ve already promised him that if he wasn’t painfully gay, you’d shag him. Lily had then felt the need to add in that if she wasn’t painfully gay, as well, she’d shag him, too. Still, he lives in denial. Idiot.
“Was too.” Marlene says, rather bluntly, returning with the wine which she passes to Mary.
She’s brought a glass for you, too, bless her. You finish the dregs of the drink Sirius bought you and accept the glass of wine Mary passes you with a ‘thank you’.
“You don’t even know what we’re talking about.” Remus argues.
“Christopher. The hot paper boy whose skull you nearly caved in with a bat. Keep up, Remus.” Marlene winks at Remus, who simply huffs in defeat, taking a long swig of his pint.
“So?” Mary follows up, never one to let Remus catch a break. She’s almost as bad as Sirius, except she does it in a much more loving, much less spiteful way.
“It went well. We chatted about books.” Remus bobs his head, swallowing thickly.
Sirius is eyeing him from the other end of the table, lips twisted into a mean looking frown. It doesn’t last long before Frank is asking him something to do with motorbikes, and Remus is long forgotten. No one else catches it, so you ignore it.
“Books?” Marlene asks in disgust.
“You spoke about books.” Lily repeats, clearly trying to find some hidden meaning she’s not going to find. You know Remus well enough to know he likely did spend the entire date-that-wasn’t-a-date nattering on about books. He’s a bookworm at his core.
“Yes,” Remus confirms, slightly agitated, “We spoke about books.”
“Right,” Marlene sounds a little deflated, always one for the seedy stories, “Lovely.”
“It was, actually.”
“I’ll bet.”
Remus huffs a laugh and excuses himself under the premise of a cigarette. No one bats an eye, and you watch him leave. It takes Sirius approximately two minutes to excuse himself from his conversation with James and Frank and follow Remus straight out the door to the smoking area. James and Frank continue on, too engrossed to realise the shit show that’s likely to unfold any minute. Lily, Mary, and Marlene fall into a conversation about whatever show the three of them are watching and you stand up, walking around the table until you’re sitting next to James.
He smiles warmly when you sit down, shuffling a little so he can face both you, and Frank who’s across the table.
“Alright,” Frank greets, head tipping forwards.
“Hiya, Frank. How’s Alice?”
Alice is Frank’s wife. They grew up together but didn’t ever get together until they both attended Tulliallan when training to become police officers. They’re sickly in love, it’s actually kind of nauseating at times, but sweet, nonetheless. They’d been daft for each other since they were thirteen.
“She’s good. On nightshift, tonight.”
You hum, sympathising with her. Nightshift is no joke, especially in a village as quiet as yours.
“Uhm,” You turn to James, “Sirius and Remus are in the smoking area. Together. Alone.”
James sighs, takes a swig of his pint, and is up like a shot to stop whatever fight is likely happening in the Three Broomsticks beer garden. He squeezes your shoulder in thanks before he goes, offering you a smile he only ever seems to give you. You can’t read it. But it’s soft. Not the teasing smile he has when you’re flirting merciless with him, or him, you. It’s just. A nice smile. For you. You watch him go; head turned, the ghost of a smile on your own lips. He pushes open the wooden door and it swings shut behind him.
“How longs that been going on then?” Frank asks, nodding his head towards the door James just went through.
“Pretty much since they met, I suppose.”
Frank laughs, which causes you to frown, and then he shakes his head.
“No. You and Potter.”
“There’s nothing going on.” You say, though your face heats up all the same.
“I can keep a secret, you know.”
“Why does everyone think I’m shagging James?” You ask, rather loud for how empty the pub is.
Your face is flames when Lily, Mary, and Marlene fall silent and look over at you, biting back laughs and whatever comments it is that are sparkling behind their eyes. You groan, embarrassed, and turn to follow James out of the door. For a moment, you think he’s allowing a full-on fight between Sirius and Remus occur. He’s standing not far from the door, sheltered by the wooden terrace that leads out to the concrete of the smoking area. It’s dimly lit in comparison to the rest of the beer garden. You frown on approach, confused as to why he’s just standing there.
It takes all of two seconds for you to see what he’s seeing. Remus has Sirius crowded against the wall, caged in like some sort of animal, and he’s kissing him so violently, so aggressively, that they actually could be fighting. In some sick, twisted way.
“Holy shit.”
James’ eyes snap to yours, moving into action to pull you back inside before Sirius and Remus realise they’ve been foiled. His hand burns like fire against your arm, his eyes steely and sharp as he looks down at you, “You cannot tell anyone what you just saw.”
“You knew?”
James shakes his head, tongue darting out to lick his lips. He has you pushed up against the wall, much like Remus did Sirius, and your cheeks heat at the thought. Jesus, they’re more messed up than you thought.
“I suspected.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” You ask, tilting your head to the side.
“It’s not my place. Look, Sirius is – he’s complicated, okay? I don’t know if he even knows he’s – just don’t say anything, okay?” James is flustered, panicked.
You get it. Sirius has never mentioned being gay, so it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that perhaps, being gay isn’t something that was on Sirius’ radar until Remus popped up out of nowhere and sent his perception of himself tumbling. Okay. Fine. You get that. You can relate. Not entirely. The situation is different. James Potter is a boy you never paid any interest to, growing up. Not romantically, at least. Until he went away to Rugby camp one summer and came back looking like sin incarnate. Well, then you’d noticed, and everything you thought you knew about him came tumbling down. So, not exactly the same, but you get it.
“I won’t, James. I won’t say anything.”
“Not even to Sirius. Or Remus.” James looks panicked, like one wrong move in handling this situation will blow it up royally.
“Promise.”
James nods, seems to realise that he’s still got an iron grip on your arm, and drops it like you’d been the one scalding him. The door opens, washing you both with cool air, and Sirius storms back inside, halting when he sees the way James has you pushed up against the wall.
“You two shagging then?” He asks, a hint of annoyance in his tone you can only assume was brought about by whatever the fuck just happened between him and Remus.
“Jamie wishes,” You plaster a sickly-sweet smile on your face, “He couldn’t handle me.”
With that, you leave them to it, returning to the table and finishing your entire wine in one gulp. The girls are kind enough not to say anything, but Lily gives you a sympathetic glance and refills the glass for you. Frank laughs to himself, you flip him off.
Remus returns a moment later, dodging Sirius and James who are still huddled where you and James just were. He takes a seat, finishes his pint, and calls it a night without another word.
You don’t miss the way James has to grab onto Sirius’ wrist to stop him from following.
--
Ahhhh! The first chapter is out!
I sincerely hope ya'll enjoyed :) Let me know your thoughts.
107 notes · View notes
samandcolbyownme · 6 months ago
Note
more zach justice smut pleaseeee
As you WISH! I’m excited to write this one!
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Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language/swearing, sneaking around, Bridgerton setting/themed, unprotected sex, kissing, biting, hair pulling, secret sex, almost getting caught, lots of proper language/actions, and lots of fluff and nasty filth
This is inspired by Bridgerton. There will be no spoilers for part 1 of season 3! But, if you have seen the show, you know they’re all british.. so.. read this as if everyone has an accent.
Word Count: 3.5k | not edited
I genuinely thought this song was bridgerton coded for this specifically?? (also, I added this at the end, so instead of daddy it will be mother - when you read, it’ll make sense, hopefully, k love you all bye!)
◦❥•◦❥•◦
You’ve been tossing and turning for hours into the late night.
Your mind bouncing back and forth between Duke Zachary, or as he likes only you to call him, Zach, and the Queen’s ball.
You loved Zach, you’ve come to love him with your full being, you just didn’t know if he knew that, but you didn’t think he was that foolish.
You were named, what the gossip letter in your town - Lady Felicity calls, the Diamond of the season. Mainly because you gained a lot more looks than any of the other girls who are also looking for a suitor along side yourself.
You wanted a husband, of course, but you want Zach to be the one to take your hand in marriage. He’s never said about if he wanted to or not, but you just wanted him so bad you didn’t care what you had to do or say.
You were wrapped around his finger, but he couldn’t deny it no matter how hard he tried - He was wrapped around yours, too.
You rolled over, staring up at the ceiling as you remember the first time you saw him.
- Your mother reaches over, tapping your knee gently, “Y/n, sweetheart.” You remove your stare from the window and place it onto her with a soft smile, “Yes Mother?”
“You look beautiful tonight, darling.” She smiles, placing the edge of her fan to her lips as her eyes grow watery, “oh.” She shakes her head, “I just knew you would be this seasons diamond.”
You shake your head as you look down, “I don’t recall you ever taking a liking to Lady Felicity, now Mother, I-..” The carriage jolts forward and you laugh slightly, “I will find a husband on my own terms. Lady Felicty can speak about whatever they must.”
The door opens and your mother steps out first, followed by your brother and sister, and then you. You look around, nodding your head at the man who helped you step down.
“Alright.” Your mother says as she links her arm with yours, “Come along, my dear. I hear there’s a Duke looking for a lady to wed.” You raise your eyebrows, “A Duke you say? Is he handsome?” You laugh slightly, eyes glancing around at the beautifully decorated ballroom.
“From what I’ve come to know, he is the most beloved suitor by all the young ladies.” Your mother nudges your side, “But just remember, you need to keep your options open.”
You walk up to Queen Darcie and the person closest to her, Lady Caswel. You both do a small curtsy as you bow your heads. “Your Majesty.” Your mother smiles, looking over to Lady Caswel, “Lady Caswel.”
They both nod and then their eyes turn to you. You give them both a smile, “You both look magnificent tonight.”
“Mm.” Queen Darcie nods, “I must say, agreeing with town gossip is not my strongest moment, but you my dear, are the diamond of the season, if I do say so myself.” She points to you and you manage to keep your composure, “Oh my, thank you, your majesty.”
You curtsy to her again and your mother thanks her quickly before walking away with you. You look up at her and you both can’t help but giggle happily as you walk further away. As you rounded the corner, you were bumped into, kind of roughly, by some man walking by.
“Excuse yourself, mister.” You say as you turn, giving him a glaring look, which quickly broke as soon as his eyes met yours, “Please, accept my apologies, um..”
You instantly finish his sentence, “Y/n y/l/n.”
“Please.” He repeats as he moves closer, his hand, his grip just hovering over the skin on your bicep, “My apologies, Miss Y/n.”
His hand moves down to take your hand in his. His lips press against your glove covered knuckles, and even thought his isn’t touching your skin, his touch still sets you on fire.
Giving you a feeling you have never felt for someone before, “Duke Zachary.” —
You let out a sigh before finally giving in to just being awake.
A yawn slips out as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed, reaching forward to grab your satin robe off of the arm of the chair by your bedside stand.
You slip your feet into your matching slippers before standing up. The back of the robe falling to cover the back of your legs as you tie it closed in the front.
You pause, your fingers coming up to cover your lips as your eyes meet the man you shouldn’t be seeing, like this at least.
You glance over your shoulder before you move to unlock your window and push it open. You lean forward, shaking your head as you fight back laughter as you watch the man scale the walls of your home to get to you.
He’s finally face to face with you and you can’t help but smile and lunge in to kiss him.
He wraps an arm around your waist, pushing you backwards as he climbs in and closes the window, “Have you missed me, sweetheart?” He whispers against your lips as his hands move to undo the bow resting on your torso.
“More than you can ever imagine.” You smile as you pull him back to your bed, “We have to be qu-“
He kisses you mid sentence, mumbling a quiet, “I know” before pushing you back to lay on the bed, his body moving up over yours, kissing the skin that isn’t being covered by your robe or nightgown.
“Please.” You beg as you lace your fingers through his hair, “Touch me. It has been far..” His hand drags your nightgown up your thigh.
“Too..” you breathe out as you feel his hand dip between your, now parting thighs, “Long, my darling.”
You lay your hand on his neck, biting down on your lip as your feel his lips press against your skin, his fingers moving to lay on your clit and he looks up at you with a smirk, “Mm, no panties, sweetheart?”
You bite your lip, giving him a shrug, “Couldn’t sleep.”
He licks his lips, parting them as he watches your face twist with pleasure as he starts to slowly rub circles on your clit.
Your nails dig into his neck and you let out a semi loud moan. Zach kisses your parted lips, your panting breathes brushing against his, “Shh.”
He slides two fingers down and pushes them into your soaked cunt, “Did you succeed with pleasuring yourself?”
You whimper as Zach’s question makes a rose colored tint appear a top your cheeks, “N-no.” He tilts his head, “No? Did you do it like I showed you, darling?”
You nod, rolling your hips as you desperately chase your release that’s building up rather quickly, “I-I tried, Zachary.”
He groans at his full first name coming from your lips, “We shall work on it another time, my love.” He leans in, moving his lips with yours and your hands pull him closer to you, whimpering against his lips as his fingers are dragging you over the edge.
He pushes his bicep under your head and curls his arm around to lay his hand over your mouth.
Your walls squeeze his fingers as they work you through your high, his other hand keeping your moans from getting the two of you caught.
That would be a nightmare, people knowing that you have been, as they say, defiled before marriage.
“I have missed this.” Zach whispers, “I have missed you.” He plants a few kisses to your cheek as he withdrawals his fingers from you.
He brings them up to rest upon your bottom lip and they part like they already knew what to do.
He gasps as he watches your lips wrap around them, humming as your tongue works up and down, licking off the taste of yourself, “If anyone knew.. just how devious you truly are..”
He pulls his bottom lip between his teeth as his eyes scan over your face and you smirk, bringing your finger up drag along his jawline, “And just what would they say?”
You hum lowly as your eyes meet his, “Do tell me, my darling.”
He rolls over, pinning your hands down by your head, “I think they would go on a ravenous tangent about how I defiled your pureness and ruined such a beautiful..” he kisses your chest, “young woman.”
He groans into your neck as his tongue drags up your skin, “But they wouldn’t be saying those things if they knew just how radiant you look beneath the touch of my own hand.”
You moan out at his words and his kiss cuts it short. While your lips move in a heated passion, his hand moves down to drag your nightgown up your legs and hold it at your waist while he grinds against you.
Your hand that isn’t still pinned down, moves down to undo the button on his trousers. Zach smirks and shakes his head, “Getting so much quicker at that.”
You smile and slip your hand in, both of you gasping quietly when your hand slides against his cock.
Zach reaches down, laying a hand over yours, “I need to be inside of you.”
You move to take off your panties as quick as you can, all while he’s pushing his trousers down his thighs, “so beautiful.” He leans forward, eyes locked onto yours as your legs fall over your waist.
You feel the tip of his cock rub against your opening and you feel your heart beating faster, “P-please.” You whisper, hips practically moving on their own, begging for the feeling of his cock inside of you.
Zach’s head falls, resting against your forehead as your moans from him sliding into you, mix together, “Oh, my god.” He sighs, shaking his head slightly, “It always feels like I’m taking you for the very first time again.”
You whimper as he crashes his lips onto yours, his hand sliding up to gently wrap around your neck, “I love you.”
You part your lips, adoring those words like you haven’t heard them over and over again.
You’d marry Zach now, but your mother thinks it’s best to give it a little while, make sure you truly feel happy with him, and not just because of his title.
Your mother would turn into an absolute lunatic if she knew just how often you see Duke Zachary and also, what you do with him when no one is watching.
“I love you.” You whisper, nodding up at him as you lay a hand on his cheek, “I love you.”
He pulls you close to him, rolling over onto his back. He grips your hips, getting you to keep moving. He moves the nightgown that fell down to block his view, “You take me so incredibly well, darling.”
You look down at him, biting into your lip to muffle your moans as your hands push his crumpled dress shirt up.
He reaches up, pulling down the low cut neckline so it’s under your breasts. His eyes focus on his hands moving to knead and squeeze, earning whimpers from you.
You gasp loudly and Zach pulls you down onto his chest, his arms wrap around your back before he begins to thrust upward.
You bury your face into his chest, gasping and clawing at his chest as you feel suddenly feel nothing but pleasure radiate all through your body.
It wasn’t long after, Zach’s hips come to a slow stop, his arms loosen around your body and his chest heaves you up and down with each quick breath he takes.
It’s silent, nothing but the faint pants coming from your bodies, which lay motionless together on your bed.
“The Queen’s Ball is tonight.” You say as your eyes glance over at the clock on your nightstand that reads 04:26 AM, “I’m going with Mother in a few hours to fetch my dress from the Modiste.”
You sit up, fixing your nightgown before standing, “Mother thinks I should explore more options.”
Zach furrows his brows, sitting up as soon as the words leave your lips, “Hang on, that doesn’t make any sense, I thought she loved me?”
You laugh slightly, “She does, darling. She does. And I do, too.” You lean down to kiss his lips, “I think the Queen wants to watch the men fall for this seasons diamond.”
“Mm.” Zach nods, pursing his lips, “I’m going to have to put up a harder fight out there, huh?”
You cover your mouth as you giggle, crawling back into his lap, “I think it’s quite..” you scrunch your nose and smirk, “Sexy.”
He straights his posture and smiles, “Well, thank you m’lady.” You laugh and press kisses to his neck. He pulls his neck away and turns his face into hours, “I don’t believe we have time to go again, my love.”
You sigh, still attempting to kiss him, “Are you certain?”
He chuckles quietly and lifts his hand and grabs you by the neck. You gasp at the sudden move and he pushes you back, biting his lip at how much control he has over you, what you and Duke Zachary have is once in a lifetime.
“My mind isn’t going to be able to focus on the Queen’s Ball tonight.” He shakes his head, eyes moving from his hand to your eyes, “Not when I have the imagine of my hand wrapped around this beautiful little throat in there, as well.”
Your breath hitches at his words and he can’t help but smirk, “I’ll see you tonight.” He pulls you in, pecking your lips before moving to fix himself as he walks over to your window.
“Be safe.” You stand up, watching as he climbs out the open window. He looks up at you and gives you a wink, “Always.”
And with that, he’s gone, but you knew you were definitely seeing him way before the Queen’s Ball.
◦❥•◦❥•◦
Your secret romance with Duke Zachary has been going on since the night he ran into you, even after the nights you spent dancing and flirting with other men, mainly just to make your other and the Queen happy.
You and Zach both knew that it didn’t mean anything. You saved everything for him, especially when you got him alone afterwards.
You were certain, as soon as you laid eyes on him, that he was the one, and just like you told Zach, you were the diamond of the season.
You had more suitors coming to your home to try and swoon you in a day than you really thought was unnecessary.
Zach, of course. Showed up everyday and stayed until they all left. He intimidated them, which you couldn’t help but snicker secretly at when you seen the look on the losing suitors face.
You can never bring yourself to ask Zach about it, you just convince yourself that it’ll happen, but it’s almost the end of the season and you haven’t had a ring slipped on your finger yet.
You took a deep breath, smoothing your hands over the fabric of the beautiful dress beneath your bare hands, “Anastasia did a marvelous job.”
You look over at your mother in the mirror, “Don’t you think, mother?”
Your mother looks up, “Oh yes. Yes. I believe she did do a very-“
“What is it?” You cut her off, turning to face her. The housemaid glances up at you and you sigh slightly, trying to compose yourself, “Sorry.”
You look up at your mother and she tilts her head, “The Queen wants you engaged by tonight.”
“Tonight? Why so soon? What has changed, mother?”
She tilts her head, “You are drawing.. too much attention away from the other girls. The Queen thinks it is best you accept one of the engagements you already have extended out to you.
You feel a dull ache in your chest.
The engagements.
You were actually dreading this, but you can only blame yourself in this situation. You were too caught up with sneaking around and lying to everyone around you that you’re forced to pick one of the options given and the one you one isn’t there.
“Talia. Please give my mother and I a moment.” You glance down at your housemaid and she instantly leaves the room.
“I love Duke Zachary, mother.” You shift towards her, moving the loose skirt of your gown with your hands, “He loves me. I know he’ll propose, I just..”
“He’s..” she steps close, leaning in, “Your brother told me that he’s what they call.. a rake.. I believe.”
You shake your head, “If Duke Zachary spent his time at that underground drunken gambling ring, he would know about the three engagement offers.”
Your mother raises her brows, “And you know this how, sweetheart?”
“He would have spoken to me about it, of course.” You swallow, “On our afternoon walks, he would have asked me what I was going to do because he is still an eligible suitor to me, mother.”
She nods, “Very well then.” She takes a deep breathe, “If Duke Zachary does not propose before midnight tonight. You will accept another suitors proposal. Right.”
“No.” You shake your head, “I won’t, mother. You cannot make me marry someone I do not love and I promise you I will not love anyone like I love Zachary.”
You step down off of the platform, “I will marry him. I will have him children.”
Your mother’s eyes grow wide and she lays a hand on her chest, “Have yo-
You bite down on your lip, “I’m not, but you should see your face.” You raise your brows, laughing at the fact that Zach has rubbed off on you in more ways that. One.
Your mother scoffs, “Y/n. You will not disgrace the name of this family by not obeying the queens order. You will be engaged by to-“
“I’ll tell you something right now, mother. I would rather burn my whole life down than to do something that will not bring me joy for the rest of my life.”
She stares at you for a few moments, “Is there a reason he hasn’t proposed yet, darling? Has that thought crossed your thoughts at all?”
You shake your head, “Have you not heard the rumors? What lady Felicity has said about Duke Zachary and I?” You walk over, ”He is poetry, and I am his poet.. Please, mother. Give him time.”
She shakes her head, “We must do what the Queen has asked of us.”
You take a few steps back, bunching up your dress as you shake your head, “No.” You run towards the door, dress unbuttoned and ruffling behind you as you run down the hall.
Your mother running out the door after you, “No! Y/n, come back here!”
“Mother no.” Your eldest brother grabs her and holds her back.
You make your way out the front doors, a small crowd following you, unsure of what’s happening, they’re just trying to ensure your safety.
“Y/n!”
You freeze, tear soaked face looking up at Zach, “Zach?” You whisper, barely audible, “What.. what are-“
You stop walking when Zach drops down to one knee, “Y/n..” he starts, reaching out for your hands, “My love.”
You walk up to him immediately, placing your hands into his, not even bothering to wipe away your tears.
“I love you. The other day you asked me why I love you and I told you the truth. You feel like home to me. You have bewitched me. Your mind, your body. Your soul. You complex me in the best ways and I just have this fire within me that only your kiss can put out.” He pulls you down to his level and you sit on your knees, hands moving to cup his cheeks as his do the same to you.
“The most beautiful part about all of this, is that I wasn’t even looking when I found you. If you hadn’t snapped at me for bumping into you, I would have kept moving right along.”
You laugh slightly and sniffle. Zach wipes away your tears and looks into your eyes, “Will you choose me to be the one to spend the rest of your life with?”
“You know about the other engagements?” You squint your eyes and Zach nods, “Well, when you’re running down the street trying to get to you while listening to your sister scream that you need to be engaged by tonight, I got the rest myself.”
“My sis-“ you look over at your sister and she smiles, giving you a small wave. You laugh, “Unbelievable.” You look at Zach, “So what are you asking Duke Zachary?”
He smiles, “I believe, I’m asking if you will do me the honor in marrying me, Miss Y/n.”
He pulls out a ring from his suit pocket and you gasp, “Oh my gosh.” You look up at him, nodding, “Yes, over and over. Yes.”
You pull him in for a kiss and everyone around you cheers as he brings you to your feet, slipping the ring in before he lifts you up, lips on yours as he spins you around, “I love you.”
“I love you.”
◦❥•◦❥•◦
Let me know what you thought of this! As always, I love you all and thank you for reading!! 🖤🖤
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wandussyfantasy · 1 year ago
Text
First Date
Summary: You ask Wanda on a real date this time. A part 2 of Movie Night. And 1/3 requests from @lesbianpizza!! Thank you again for the requests!!
Request: Wanda and Y/n go on a date to a restaurant but they’re so insatiable (and at this point I think it’s confirmed that Wanda is that girl) that R starts fingering her under the table and she’s rubbing them through their pants. They end up having to leave in the middle of their meal to get their hands on each other properly
Pairings: Wanda x NB!AMAB!Reader
Word Count: 4,290
WARNINGS:
18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT READ & DO NOT INTERACT!!!
smut, gn!reader amab, powerbottom!wanda, fingering, dirty talk, fluff, masturbation, public touching, fantasies, teasing, and creampie.
𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓. 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Hey, uh,” you clear your throat nervously, “hey, Wanda.” You call her attention. You are hosting your friends over for an impromptu pool party since your parents went out of town for the weekend. You haven’t been alone with Wanda in the past couple of weeks since you took her virginity. She told you the morning after that you have to make the next move. As an overthinker, you weren’t sure what that next move should be. Plus it didn't help that this is the first time you’ve been available in two weeks. There was an important project at work and your father was over working everyone to get it done in time for the expo this weekend. 
The only contact you had with Wanda was a text here and there and whatever memes and funny videos she would send you the links to. Beyond that, you haven’t had a chance to make a move or talk about what you see in the near future for your relationship. You thought about inviting only her over and then asking her out in person. Only problem was that every time you typed out the message you thought of a reason not to send it. Then you thought about going over to her house with flowers and chocolates and asking her out that way. But that didn’t feel right either. 
While you were working yourself up to text her, you got a new notification of another link from her. It was one of those trends of friends jumping into a pool to a song and you laughed and asked if she wanted to come over for a swim. Not realizing it was the group chat and everyone was more than happy to come over. You didn’t know how to tell them not to, so you let it be and figured this would be the best way to ask her. 
Unfortunately that left zero time for the two of you to be alone. Any chance you got to talk to her was ruined by a number of friends. Especially her twin brother, Pietro. The two of you have been friends a little longer than you and Wanda but not as close. He is protective of her and he’s aware of her crush on you. He’s also aware of your rocky dating history and he’d rather not have his sister on that long list of ex lovers. So when he catches the two of you standing a little too close for his liking, he takes the opportunity to intervene. 
You find it weird that he makes his way into every conversation you fail to start but you don't think much about it. You're just grateful to be given more time to find the words to ask Wanda out. You hate how hard this task has been so far. You and Wanda used to hang out and talk about anything and everything without any awkwardness. But this added pressure to treat her as special as she deserves to be and not really knowing how to do that has become draining. 
Then the perfect opportunity arises when the two of you are putting together lunch for everyone. This time the group of friends are distracted with an intense game of pool volleyball. Wanda hums in acknowledgement as she chops vegetables.“Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?” You finally ask. 
“Sure,” she answers simply as she keeps her focus on the vegetables, “there's this movie I've been dying to show you while you've been busy. I know, I know, it kind of goes against the whole-” 
“Wanda,” you interrupt her. “That's not what I meant. I um,” you bite your lip as you consider your next words carefully. You move from the kitchen island where you were preparing the meat for the burgers and make your way over to the counter where she is. “I meant like you and me, we get dressed up and go to a nice restaurant and share a meal…” you stop in front of her and lean on the counter. “I pick you up instead of us meeting there. We talk, we flirt, maybe I even get to kiss you at the end of the night.” You describe what you want to do with her instead of simply stating the simple word of what it is. 
Wanda drops the knife as she tries to contain her excitement. She wants to jump up and down and scream her answer over and over but the intense look you are giving her reminds her of the night the two of you slept together and she knows now is not the time for that. “Ah so you're asking me out on a date?” She asks to clarify as butterflies flutter around in her stomach. 
“Yes, I'm asking you on a proper date,” you confirm as you play with a strand of her wet hair.
“Okay,” she says in a sweet tone. “My answer is still yes. But um, Y/n, we've already slept together. You can do more than end the night with a kiss,” she leans against your body and whispers in your ear. “I have been craving your cock for two weeks.” 
You gulp as you clench your hand into a fist and imagine the worst thing you can so you don't get an erection. “Well then um,” you clear your throat and step back as you get flustered. There are too many people here waiting for food. “I will um… we'll see where the night takes us.” You feel the twitching in your dick as it remembers being inside of Wanda without any barriers and it gets excited at the idea of it happening again. “I um, I need to use the restroom. Uh have Peter start the grill will you? Thanks.” 
Wanda laughs to herself with a shake of her head as you slip out of the kitchen. You make your way to the restroom in your bedroom as your boner stands at attention. “Shit!” As much as you try, your thoughts aren't enough to get rid of it. So you grab the old pornographic magazine you kept hidden in the bathroom and lube up your hand with the sensation lube you keep to make yourself sensitive. Times like these didn't matter how long you lasted, you just needed to get rid of the thing.
You start stroking your cock to the naked image of some random woman but it does nothing for you. So you slam the magazine shut and toss it in the trash bin. This was no use to you now. You've been with the girl or your dreams and it was better than anything you could have ever imagined. You shut your eyes as you recall that night. The surprise hand job and the surprise blow job that followed. Oh how good her mouth felt on your cock. You pump your hand harder as you remember kissing her for the first time and having your tongue inside of her. Oh the way she tastes. You're craving it now. You remember trying to keep her quiet and there was an element of the secrecy that brought you closer to the edge. 
You remember how tight she felt as you entered her for the first time and you squeeze your cock just enough to mimic the feeling but there was no fooling your body. This is your hand and not Wanda's pussy. Then a new image pops in your hand. A fantasy that you wish to see happen. 
Wanda knocks on the bathroom door to startle you before she walks in. She giggles as you hold your chest with your cock hanging out of your swim shorts. “You look like you need a hand with that.” She says as she gets on her knees. She replaced your hand with her soft delicate hands. That alone brings you closer. She strokes your cock for a moment before she takes you in her mouth. Your eyes roll to the back of your head at the feeling of her lips sucking on your cock. 
“Wanda, I'm close,” you gasp out as she continues to suck on you. 
Wanda pulls off and looks at you with her big green eyes that have darkened with desire. “Good, I want to taste your cum.” She says and puts her mouth on you again. 
As you cum in the fantasy, you cum inside of your toilet in real life. “Oh fuck,” you say as you catch your breath. “I am in trouble,” you mutter to yourself as you clean up. You return to your friends and stay away from Wanda as much as possible. She made it impossible to stay soft in her light orange two piece bathing suit.
Later that evening, you're in a nice suite and tie. Your hair is still a little damp from your shower. A very cold shower at that. Not that your dick minded. On the bright side, after cumming three times already today, you're hoping you'll last longer for Wanda. That is, if things go that far tonight. As you get out of the car to make your way up to the front steps, Wanda comes running out of her house in an oversized sweatshirt, that you're pretty sure is yours, and sweatpants with an overnight bag. “Oh, I was just coming up to-”
“No need, my parents think you're giving me a ride to Carol’s slumber party,” Wanda pushes you back into your car and climbs in, throwing her stuff in the back seat. “Drive carefully, I couldn't leave the house with makeup on.” Wanda pulls her makeup bag out of her middle pocket. 
“You wear makeup?” You ask as you pull out of the driveway.
“Shut up, it’s a special occasion,” she says while she applies the makeup. As you drive to the restaurant, you warn her when there's a bump or when you're about to make a turn. 
As you get closer to the destination you ask, “Do you need me to pull over anywhere so that you can change? I mean you look hot as you are but I don't think the restaurant will let you in.” 
Wanda sits back in her seat with a satisfied smile at the work she did. “Don’t worry, I have my dress on underneath.” 
“No way, you're wearing a dress too?” You ask with wide eyes. “Wow, you really like me.” 
Wanda rolls her eyes, but when you park the car and look at her she softens and smiles. “Yeah, I do,” she leans over the console and kisses your cheek. Leaving a stamp from her big red lips. She giggles as she grabs one of her makeup wipes to clean it off. “But don't get used to all of this getting dressed up business. Especially not when all I want is for you to take it all off anyway.”
You are a little intimidated by how direct Wanda is. The shy girl you once knew is no longer in the body of this confident woman. You're impressed by her change but a little embarrassed that you didn't notice it sooner. You knew Wanda to be the one who takes it slow. She and Vision dated for years and yet you're the one who took her virginity. Not him. 
She was someone who loves romcoms and expects the roses and chocolates and the grand gestures and the romantic dates. At least, you thought she was. With how she was acting tonight, you wonder how she stayed a virgin so long. 
“Let’s get inside before I can't control myself,” you say. “Wouldn’t want to put your hard work to waste.” You get out of the car before she can say something to convince you otherwise. You go to open her door and while you walk, she is taking off the lounge wear so that when she steps out she can surprise you. 
Wanda steps out slowly, teasing you with the sight of her bare leg first. You're speechless when she reveals her entire look for the evening. Her hair falls nicely with her dark loose waves with red lips and light makeup that leaves her still looking natural. The dress is red and stops just below her knees with a small slit at her thigh, it's not a tight dress but it still clings to the right places giving her body a great shape. And to complete the look she is wearing black heels. “Close your mouth, you'll catch flies,” she pats you on the cheek and you shut your mouth, unaware of when it dropped open in the first place. 
“You always look good, but wow,” you compliment as you follow her through the parking lot. Wanda is strutting her way to the building and you're looking like a drooling puppy dog behind her. 
As the two of you are looking through the menu to order, things heat up as the two of you sit close together in the dimly lit booth. “I think I might order something light. I'm not sure I want to stuff myself with food tonight,” she says conversationally as she drops the menu on the table. Wanda places her hand on your thigh, “It's always best to save room for dessert.”
You swallow as your entire body reacts to her touch. “Yeah, I'm not in the mood for a lot of food either.” You lean in close and whisper, “I’ve got a craving for something off the menu.” You slip your fingers under her dress to caress her bare thigh. Wanda has been very clear about what she is okay with this evening and it relieves you from feeling like you have to try so hard. 
By the time the waiter leaves with your orders, your cock is swelling up with arousal from Wanda rubbing you through your pants and your fingers are teasing her through her underwear. “I've been practicing what you showed me last time and,” she gasps as you move her panties to the side.“Ooh, the only thing that gets me off is the thought of being with you again.”
You hum as you move to kiss her neck but don't put your lips on her. Instead you whisper, “Oh yeah? Do you have any fantasies that you want to share with me?” 
Wanda smiles, “It’s been weeks,” she bites her lip as you dip your fingers in her, “I have many.” She tries to pull your zipper down but you stop her by removing your fingers. 
“Uh-uh uh. Not here,” you tell her. “Through the pants is just fine. And a lot less illegal,” you joke. You kiss her cute pouting lips and she breaks into a smile. It's so natural between the two of you. 
An attractive waitress stops by to deliver the drinks the two of you ordered. You grin as you thank her and Wanda clenches her jaws to hide her jealousy until you slip your fingers back inside of her pussy. Your way of letting her know that she holds your full attention. You continue to pump your fingers in her at a steady pace. Her slippery walls constrict around your fingers every so often. The two of you try to present as normal and have a casual conversation when your meals arrive. 
“Can I ask you something?” You press on her clitoris causing her to gasp out a yes for an answer. “Why are you lying to your parents about where you are tonight? They know me, they know we're friends.”
Wanda wiggles on your fingers as you continue to fuck her. “I don't want the pressure on us. Whatever we're doing. They'll ruin it. My dad approves of you and my mom has been… oooh… she's been telling me to ask you out before I even realized how I f-feel about you… oh that's good.” She stumbles on her words as you continue to pleasure her with your fingers. 
“Ah, so I'm guessing you haven't told the girls about what happened last time either?”
Wanda shakes her head, “No, no, I want it to be just us until… oh my god… until we're ready. They think you… ugh… turned me down and said we're better off friends.” 
You nod as you understand her reasoning. Romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours. “Okay, I can agree to that. Especially since I don't want your brother to kill me and-” 
Wanda squeezes your bicep, “Baby, please can we not talk about my family when you're… ohh.. doing that to me.” 
“Right, and giving me a handjob in front of my family is acceptable,” you retort as you rub her clitoris again. 
“Oh please, you thought it was hot,” she shoots back as she squeezes your cock, you almost let out a groan. 
“Fair enough,” you take a few big bites of your food and nudge Wanda to start eating. She asks you what's up and you pull your fingers out of her. “I’m trying to at least buy you a meal before we go back to my house. So please, eat something or else I'll feel bad for keeping you up all night.”
Wanda perks up at the mention, “All night huh? You could barely last a few minutes the first time.” 
You smirk as you lean in close and whisper, “I already came three times today thinking about you.” You lean back and speak in a normal tone. “I hadn't done that in a while before you surprised me. Plus I'd never done that without protection, the moment you decided to do that it was over for me.”
Wanda tilts her head, “At least I was your first at something.” 
You hum and point to her plate with your fork. “Eat.”
“Okay, okay, I'm eating,” Wanda takes a few bites but the food isn't appetizing. No. She is craving something only you can give her. She watches you as you eat. Something that a few years ago disturbed her because you used to chew with your mouth open to annoy her. This time, you're clean with no desire to annoy her, only the desire to get out of this restaurant and fill her with something other than food. 
“I’m not hungry anymore,” you say as you drop your utensil and look at her. Wanda smiles and says that she isn't either. You flag down the waiter to pay for the check and leave. Back in the car, Wanda is quick to grab your bulge and try to pull your zipper down. “Can I drive us back to my house first?” You ask in a light laugh.
“Alright,” she sighs, removing her hand from your pants. When you get to the house, the two of you waste no time running to your bedroom. Thankfully you can be as loud as you want with your parents away. You shut and lock the bedroom door and bring Wanda into a passionate kiss. Staining your lips with her red lipstick. You don't mind one bit. “Finally,” she breathes out as she starts to pull on your clothes. 
“I’m sorry I took so long,” you go in for another kiss and she catches your face with her hands, holding you close. You grab her by the waist and guide her to the bed. You sit on the side of it with her still standing. “I was trying to be everything you wished for,” you say as you continue to kiss her red lips. 
Wanda puts her hands on your chest to stop you  and breaks the kiss. “Y/n,” her light laugh causes your heart to flutter along with the bright way she says your name. “You don't have to try, just be you. That's enough for me.” She gives you a light kiss on your nose and you smile up at her. Your heart tightens at her words. You had no idea that you needed to hear them but it means the world that she said them. 
“I… gosh I don't know what to say to that,” you admit as you're at a loss for words. 
“Don’t say anything, just,” Wanda climbs on your lap to straddle you. “Show me how you feel.” 
“Okay,” you nod and start to kiss her again. You start with her lips then you move to her neck, down to her collar bone, finally you arrive at her chest. Instead of reaching behind her to unzip the dress, you lower the strap on her shoulder and place a few kisses there. You raise your eyebrows when you notice that she doesn't have a bra on and you pull her breast over the dress and put your mouth over her nipple. You lick circles around her nipple and suck on her breast then you bring the other one out of the dress and give that breast the same attention. 
Wanda has her hands in your hair as she learns about this new sensation. Her pussy starts squeezing and making her hips move involuntarily and she knows that her body is craving so much more. She rubs herself on your bulge in hopes that will give you the hint to move this along. She has weeks of pent up sexual tension that was controlling her actions right now. Forget weeks. It was years worth. She's impressed with how well you've contained yourself all evening. 
“I need you,” she whispers as she massages your scalp. You remove your mouth from her chest and look up into her eyes of desire. “Please,” she begs, “I’ve been patient all night.” 
This makes you chuckle as you shake your head, “No you haven't.” 
She breaks into a sweet smile, “Okay, maybe not tonight but I have been waiting weeks for you to make the next move.”
“Okay, that's fair,” you gently bring her face down to yours for a kiss that she is eager to return. She moves her hips on your crotch again, making your dick as impatient as Wanda is. “Let me lay you down,” you say against her lips as her hands travel down your body and try to pull on your zipper. 
“No, I’m okay right here,” she pulls your hard cock out and strokes you underneath her. 
“At,” you struggle with breathing between the kissing and the hand job, “At least let me grab a condom.”
Wanda giggles as she pulls her underwear aside and teases the tip of your penis with her dripping entrance. “I already told you not to worry about that,” she reminds you as she slowly sinks down onto you. 
Your groans fill the room as you enjoy every sensation being sent through you from her tight warm walls. Nothing in the world felt better than this right now. “You are so awesome,” you compliment awkwardly. 
Wanda giggles, “Shut up,” she kisses you in order to keep your mouth busy. She has a tight grip on your shoulders as she rides you. As she picks up a faster pace, she stops kissing you and tips her head to the ceiling. Her breasts bounce in your face as she does. You can hardly handle the view. You don't know how you got so lucky. To show how much you appreciate her, you start kissing her exposed body. Letting her know the things you don't know how to put into words yet. Your hands claw at her dress to pull it further down her torso.
The next position Wanda wants to try is with her on all fours and you thrusting into her from behind. The two of you take your clothes off as you move around the bed to get in the position. This one has you doing all of the work now. You don't mind it at all. You reach underneath her to rub her clitoris and it causes her to release a noise you hadn't heard from her before. It encourages you to do more. 
You start thrusting into Wanda a little harder than before and she lets you know that she likes it. You hold her beautiful ass with your hands as you start to pound into her aching pussy. “Fuck!” you say as her walls tighten around your cock as she experiences an orgasm. Neither of you knew that she was so close. It was a surprise to her as much as it was to you. It causes Wanda's arms to go weak and she collapses her face into the pillow underneath her. You pull out of her to check on her. “Are you okay?” You nudge her shoulder softly. 
Wanda turns on her side and smiles at you. “Yeah, I um, didn't expect that but, oh it was so good.” She lays on her back and reaches for you to come closer to her. When you do, she whispers in your ear, “I want you to fill me with your cum again.” You nod and your dick twitches with excitement as you slip back inside of her slippery walls. You continue to fuck her in the missionary position, kissing her on the lips every so often until you feel it happening. Cum shoots out of your cock, filling the girl of your dreams up. 
When it's over, the two of you hold each other for a moment. Taking the time to appreciate the fact that this hasn't complicated your relationship the ways you've always feared. “I love you, Wanda,” you admit softly. 
She sits up and gazes into your eyes, she wasn't ready to return those words but she did appreciate hearing them. So, instead of a verbal response, she kisses you and that is enough for you, for now. 
The End.
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e-dubbc11 · 6 months ago
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Goodnight Sweet Prince
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Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.
Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader
Warnings: Death, description of injuries, vomiting, crying, grief
Word Count: 2.8K-ish
Summary: After a night out, on your way home, there’s a horrific accident
A/N: Ok I’m just going to say I’m sorry right off the bat, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Based off of a conversation between my lovely lovely friend @ittybxttykxttytxtty if you’d like to read the conversation, check it out HERE There is a surprise at the end so I will do another author’s note at the end. This was very hard to write at times, I had to walk away from it and come back to it a few times. I know, I’m rambling again. I’m just gonna say I’m sorry again and forgive me but I hope you like it anyway. Oh and the song I listened to on repeat to put me in the right mindset was Storm by Lifehouse. I’ll link it at the end. ♥️
As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕
There wasn’t anything that could be done for the outcome to be different. You were living a real life nightmare over and over again, always starting and ending in the same place, never finding out what happened after the accident or how you were supposed to figure out how to break the time loop you were stuck in.
The scorched heart that beat inside your chest burned every time you had to watch that truck hit the patch of black ice. His strong hands had pushed you out of the way and you fell across the faded white lines of the crosswalk, toward the sidewalk, just as it hit him.
Choking on the icy winter air, you tried to get to him as people started to gather around. All other sounds had been blocked out, you couldn’t hear the pedestrians that were trying to ask you if you were ok. You could read their lips but there was no sound.
With your palms pressed firmly in place, you could feel the vibrations of the traffic along the cold cracked city streets before crawling on all fours through a sea of legs looking for him. You could finally hear the faded sounds of approaching sirens and see the blinking red emergency lights against the somber night sky.
Your heart sank into your feet when you finally saw him. The attempt to control his pain and shock was futile. He didn’t have to say anything because it was all over his face. He was scared, calling out your name over and over again through shuttering, halting breaths.
Bright red blood slowly dripped from the scrapes on his knuckles and trailed out of his mouth. His legs twisted to impossible angles; you knew they were broken.
The dialogue was always the same.
As you hovered above him, you tried to stifle your sobs as you gently scraped his scalp with your nails.
“BILLY!” You cried out.
He struggled to get his words out. Between labored breaths he managed to ask, “A-are y-you o-ok? T-tell me you’re ok!”
Cupping his cheek, you replied, “I’m ok, baby…I’m ok. They’re coming, Billy! Just hold on! Why did you do that?!!”
Billy tried to smile.
“I-I couldn’t l-let any…thing h-happen to m-my s-sweet girl.” He choked out before his eyes closed.
“Billy! Billy, open your eyes for me please! Don’t you dare leave me, Billy Russo!” You yelled, gripping and shaking his shoulders.
Just as his eyes slowly started to open, you were surrounded by a swarm of paramedics who whisked you away toward the ambulance. And as you struggled to get away from them and back to Billy, a warm white light would appear and take you to a happy memory of him like the day you met, the night of your first date, and the first time he told you he loved you.
These memories felt like dreams. You observed them from the outside, like you were a spectator watching your own life as it played out in front of you.
“She left me…she didn’t want me…she never did.” He had said softly.
You remembered that night vividly. That quiet night with nothing but the sound of the fire crackling and hissing in between the words the two of you exchanged. A mother had left her own child on the doorstep of a fire station with nothing but the clothes on his back, not bothering to look back as she walked away from him. She made a choice and she didn’t deserve any forgiveness for it you thought to yourself because you couldn’t get any words out.
You struggled to swallow as tears silently fell from your eyes and in a way, you felt sorry for her because she would never know that her son grew up to be probably the strongest person you had ever met.
Billy had pulled himself out of that gutter she had left him in. He defended his country as a marine, became a successful CEO of a company he started without help from anyone, and he was so much more than anyone ever got to see.
You were the only person he ever showed that side of himself to.
Even the warmth from the fire couldn’t keep you from shivering as you listened to his story. The words kept pouring out like blood from an open wound and his words left you stunned and unable to move.
There wasn’t anything you could say to take that pain away, to make the nightmares disappear, help him forget about the Ray of Hope group home, the bodies left behind in Afghanistan, or the pain he suffered from feeling unwanted and unloved for so long. But you could listen and be there for him whenever he needed you to and he loved you for that.
Your story wasn’t like Billy’s but it was still a painful one. The memories you had from when you were really young made you happy but as you got older into your pre-teen and teenage years, everything unraveled.
Your parents divorced, you had to leave the house you grew up in, and your mother even gave away your dog. She treated you like she didn’t want you, not going as far as Billy’s mother did but you felt just as he did…unwanted and unloved.
“What did she do to you?” Billy had asked.
Gazing at you fondly, his eyes were the color of freshly turned soil after the rain. His long fingers softly brushed across your knuckles as the heat from the fire warmed one side of his handsome face.
You swallowed hard before answering him, it was nothing like what he had been through, and it just sounded so marginal but you answered him anyway.
“She ignored me.” You replied with your voice cracking.
You didn’t want to cry but tears fell from your eyes anyway as you tried to look away from him, realizing how stupid it all sounded but he wouldn’t let you look away or down. Billy wanted your eyes on him.
The look in his eyes was understanding; they silently told you he would never do that to you and he would always be there to listen to you because, in a way, you were alike. The two of you had managed to find one another and he never wanted to let that go…and neither did you.
The broken fragments of your lives that you carried around never quite fit back into place, no matter how hard you tried to put them back. Those scars are forever; they never completely go away but you didn’t need those pieces anymore. The healing you did together helped to patch the holes inside that you thought might never be filled with love again.
Patiently, you had waited for someone to love you as Billy did, to love you for who you were and he had only wanted the same. Not for his money or his good looks but for someone to love him, to be patient with him, but also to put him in his place when he was wrong. He wasn’t used to that but he did whatever it took because, with your help, he liked the man he was becoming.
He felt…content.
And in an instant, everything changed. The cycle would start all over again. Truck…screeching tires…hitting the pavement…sirens and lights…blood…broken bones…hearing your name…flashes of light…a fond memory.
You couldn’t keep watching him get hit by that truck over and over again. It felt like moments of your life were being taken from you each time it happened but still you loved watching the wonderful memories and moments between you and Billy again like it was the first time it was happening.
Every emotion you had experienced in those memories, you felt again watching them unfold in front of your eyes. The butterflies in your stomach fluttered again watching him kiss you for the first time. And goosebumps peppered your skin every time his lips touched that spot on your neck you loved so much…you felt them all.
But no matter how hard you tried to prevent him from being hit, you couldn’t do it. The universe wouldn’t let you. The cruelty of it all, watching the worst moment of your life play over and over again like a broken record. The flashes of light would always happen before learning Billy’s fate but you needed to break the loop.
How were you going to do that?
Maybe? No, no that can’t be the answer. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t just let him die. “There has to be another way!” You thought.
The scent of tires and pavement mixed together burned into your sense of smell and left you sick with nausea as you tried to comfort him or ease his pain in any way you could. But it didn’t do any good. You could feel him slipping away as the obliterating pain you felt in your chest increased when the paramedics tore you away from his side.
The light came for you, ready to take you away to another memory but you didn’t let it. That’s when you realized that there was no other way to break the loop. Your body went numb, admitting to yourself that you had to let him go.
You had exhausted every option, tried everything, but the time loop kept going. The memories shown to you were all you were going to have left of him which was excruciating to think about.
You broke free from the paramedic’s strong grip and hurried back to him just as the other EMT’s were putting him on the stretcher.
You weren’t going to let him be alone.
No other words were exchanged inside the ambulance. With the oxygen mask over his face, his long fingers had laced with yours, he squeezed your hand periodically as the ambulance raced toward the hospital until his heart stopped beating and you heard the unmistakable sound of a flat line. His fingers went limp, his hand dropped away from yours as the EMT’s tried to revive him but he wasn’t coming back.
The tears came thick and fast as all noises dissipated like a heavy fog burning off over the ocean. A piece of you was gone, it had died along with him and that space in your heart that had been filled in with his love was empty once again.
The air inside suddenly became heavy and you struggled to breathe. As soon as the ambulance doors opened, you vomited onto the pavement in the parking lot and collapsed into the arms of one of the paramedics.
Before you blacked out, you heard him call out to you, “Miss! Can you hear me?!”
**********
Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, the bright lights above you stung as you waited for your vision to adjust to them. The voice you heard next to you was a familiar one.
“Hey sweetheart.” He said.
The voice was deep and gruff but soft. It could only be one person…Frank.
Frank Castle was Billy’s best friend. They served together and when Billy started Anvil, he had Frank come and work for him.
A hazy sense of sadness filled the room and after a moment of cold silence, you burst into tears, clawed at the sheets and tried to get out of bed.
“Y/n…no, no! What are ya doing, ya have to stay here. He’s gone, sweetheart.” Frank embraced you tightly and choked on his words. “He’s gone.”
Still trying to pull the cold sheets off your body, you cried, “He was all I had, Frank! He was all I…had!”
Frank squeezed you as hard as he could, held you in his arms as you cried while he tried not to and stroked your hair to try and soothe you but it didn’t do any good. You were heartbroken and numb as you sobbed against Frank’s shirt before passing out from shock once again.
The only person in the world who understood you, who you went to when you were having a bad day, or when you just needed someone to hug you in silence was stolen from you and he wasn’t coming back.
The only thing you felt was helplessness, lying in your hospital bed desperately trying to think of how you were going to move on with your life without him. You didn’t have anyone else, so what were you supposed to do now?
The weeks following Billy’s death all ran together in a blur. Frank and his wife, Maria, insisted you stay with them, but you couldn’t eat, or sleep, and when you did sleep, you were awakened by constant nightmares. Billy came to you in your dreams, they felt so real, his hands cupping your cheeks, lips colliding with yours, and his fingers tracing along the curves and hollows of your body.
Suddenly, his face was covered in cuts and blood and his life force grew fainter. You reached out but you couldn’t touch him. He slipped right through your fingers as he was just a vision, a figment of your imagination and then he disappeared.
Cold sweats and waves of nausea resulted in you vomiting up whatever food you had managed to eat. Maria became concerned when it would happen every time you tried to eat something so even though you told her you were fine, she brought you to the doctor anyway.
Sitting in the exam room, you said to her, “I told you, I’m fine. You don’t have to worry.”
“But I am worried.” She said. “You can’t keep anything down. That’s not good, y/n.”
It felt like they had kept you waiting in that room for days, so she just sat with you, talked, and comforted you. She knew how hard all of this had been on you.
Maria had become a really good friend to you after starting your relationship with Billy. She was so happy that he finally found someone that understood him, was patient with him, and had taught him how to be in a relationship. Some days were harder than others but she did her best to try and ease your pain.
“I know it hasn’t been that long y/n, but Frank and I, even the kids, would do anything to see you smile again.” Said Maria, as she laced her fingers with yours.
You tried to give her a slight smile but immediately your eyes welled up with tears and streaked down your cheeks.
“I see him everywhere I go, every time I close my eyes, he’s there but I can’t touch him. My hand just floats through him! It’s so hard without him, Maria!” You sobbed.
She held you tightly against her as she bit back her tears.
“I know it is…ssshh, ssshhh, I know it is. I know you miss him, we all do, but we are always here for you.” She said, choking on her words.
You remembered when your grandfather passed away. The nurses told you that hearing was the last sense to leave the body so he could still hear you even if you didn’t think he could. And you remembered that in the ambulance on your way to the hospital with Billy.
Before he squeezed your hand for the last time, you whispered in his ear how much you loved him and told him he was the best thing to ever happen to you.
Then he was gone and you knew he wasn’t coming back. He died knowing he was loved which is all he ever wanted but you didn’t know if you would ever be able to process your grief. Everything was difficult. Getting out of bed, eating, taking care of yourself. It was all so painful.
Maria was still holding onto you when the doctor knocked and walked through the door. She had a kind smile and was very aware of the ordeal you had been through so her tone of voice was very gentle.
“Hi there, y/n. I’d ask you how you’re doing but I know the answer to that but I think I know why you haven’t been able to keep any food down lately.” She said.
You and Maria looked at her, very interested in what she was about to say.
“Your bloodwork came back and, well…you’re pregnant y/n.” She said with a warm smile.
As those words echoed inside your head, you suddenly became lightheaded and you were thankful that Maria was holding onto you because you could feel yourself starting to lean off of the exam table.
“I’m…pregnant?” You questioned. “A-are y-you sure? How can that be? I was on birth control.”
She shrugged. “Well you know it’s not always 100% effective. We should schedule you for an ultrasound so we know how far along you are.”
Maria cracked a smile as her tears went from sad to happy.
“Oh my god…” She said, stunned.
“Oh my god…” You replied, in return.
Billy didn’t leave you all alone after all but how were you going to do it without him?
A/N #2: I’d love to continue this, explore her grief a little more, past times with Billy, maybe the birth of the baby? What do you think?
Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @rafaelakelley @idaoftheburningmind @snowkestrel @fakehappy27 @music-indie-tv @fictional-hooman @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @celestialend @k-marzolf @nutmeg17 @rosaleenablack @vaguekayla @qu1etwolf @danzer8705 @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf
Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @ittybxttykxttytxtty @russosafehaven @mrsbillyrusso
If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.
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klaineccfanficlibrary · 7 months ago
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Hello! Could someone help me find this fic please?
Kurt and Blaine broke up and years later they see each other in the street (in New York) I kind of remember the story went from past (mostly Blaine and his ex’s and how he never was fully happy with them) and present, and how they go from talking, to having sex and finally getting back together.
I think Blaine is with his boyfriend when he runs into Kurt and they break up shortly after because the boyfriend realizes Blaine’s not over Kurt. But I’m not too sure about that part.
Thank you!
I'm not sure of the exact fic, but did look through our reunion tag. These are reunion fics that you might consider, unless someone can identify the one you ask? ~Jen
Someone Like You by @iconicklaine
Kurt and Blaine keep up their very own version of “When Harry Met Sally” for years, a friendship fraught with sexual tension and longing, until the agendas of Adele (yes, THE Adele), a bored NY socialite and a super-sweet hetero couple bring our boys together. The only problem is… they’re both in committed relationships.
~~~~~
The One That Got Away by Catcat85
AU after the breakup scene in Season 6 Episode 1. Heartbroken and devastated after Kurt ended their relationship, Blaine changed his life completely. He quit NYADA. Enrolled at NYU and became a Pediatric Surgeon. He married Sebastian Smythe and they later have a beautiful daughter named Elena. Kurt realized he made a huge mistake by letting Blaine go. But the realization came too late. Blaine had already moved on and wanted nothing to do with Kurt. Kurt did his best to move on with his life. He graduated from NYADA and started getting cast in off Broadway productions, which led to having his big break when he was cast to be Link Larkin in Hairspray on Broadway. Since then, his career had taken off and he became a successful actor, but he couldn’t find a man he loves enough to marry. Desperate to have a family of his own, he found an egg donor and surrogate to have a baby, a boy which he named Chris. This is a story about a lost love between Kurt and Blaine, as well as a love story between Chris and Elena. No matter how hard their parents try to keep them apart, Chris and Elena find each other. Even after 25 years, the strength of their love might just be the thing to bring Kurt and Blaine back together.
~~~~~
Foundations by gentlereader
After breaking up Kurt and Blaine went their separate ways.
Blaine’s now a successful LA musician while Kurt is a high school counselor.
The creation of the Pavarotti Music Foundation was their dream… and now its a reality.
~~~~~
A Song For Cordelia by @melissamotown [PDF]  [EPUB]
Kurt never called Blaine after the break up, despite Isabelle’s advice. It was not out of spite, or because he didn’t believe she was right, but because his heart didn’t know how to forgive. Five years later, when their paths cross once more, Kurt and Blaine decides to be friends again - just friends. But where the heart goes, the man follows…
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crescentcampbell · 5 months ago
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Wouldn't You Like to Know, Ch. 15
AO3 LINK HERE| WATTPAD LINK HERE
Fifteen
There were times where Penelope still felt like a seventeen-year-old girl. Her last years of high school had been particularly rough. First, because of her father stealing money, and then because of Eloise finding out about the Whistledown Blast account. Her senior year was also the same time Colin started acting, going on auditions, and met Marina.
She still remembered when he got his first movie with her. The two of them had gone out to a club to celebrate. Penelope wasn’t really a clubbing kind of girl, but they were teenagers in New York and it was the practically a staple of their social life at the time. “I don’t dance,” she remembered telling him for the millionth time in the back of an Uber.
“Oh, come on, Pen! You’re my oldest friend. I just got offered a part in a big, fucking movie. You’ve got to celebrate with me.”
Penelope winced. “People are going to stare.”
“Of course they’re going to stare,” he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making her blush, “we’re hot.”
She laughed nervously. What was it about Colin Bridgerton that made her feel so unraveled? He was handsome and had the kind of smile that made you want to smile too, and had perfect hair. If she had been smart, she would have hated him. But the Bridgerton’s had that special shine of wealth and celebrity that made people want to be around them and want them to like them.
Penelope’s family had money, but not Bridgerton money. That didn’t even include Violet Bridgerton’s YouTube empire. The homemaker had become the modern Martha Stewart that everyone wanted to know every detail about the lives of the eight siblings and always had.
Daphne dating a prince had only escalated things this past year, and now, Colin was going to be in the movies. He had the whole future for.
They got into the club without even waiting, and when they were inside, Benedict Bridgerton was waiting for them in the VIP area with Eloise. “There you two are!” Eloise said. “Honestly, what took you so long?”
“Colin insisted on getting food,” said Penelope.
Colin grinned at his sister. “I can’t very well consume alcohol on an empty stomach, can I?”
Penelope rolled her eyes. “You just like watching girls lick their fingers after they eat.”
He smirked. “I’m a man with very particular tastes.”
Benedict snorted. “Brother, you are hardly a man. Although, you are going to be a movie star from what I’ve heard. You got the part?”
Colin nodded. “I’ll start filming this summer, but my agent says there’s some promotional stuff that they want me to do.”
“What, like fake dating your co-star?” Eloise joked.
Colin laughed. “Not a chance. I’m not that desperate for fame. I’m going to do this the honest way.”
“Through nepotism and Mommy’s fame?” his sister said.
Penelope laughed. “Come on. He has talent.”
Eloise rolled her eyes. “You always say that about him, because he’s your favorite Bridgerton. Even compared to me.”
Benedict shot a look over his shoulder at Penelope. “Oh Pen, I’m hurt. I thought I was your favorite.”
The redhead blushed, and Colin took her hand in his.
“Benedict, she likes me better. Always has, always will,” he said, “come on Pen, let’s go dance.”
He dragged her out onto the floor and Penelope was aware of how short the dress she’d put on was. It kept riding up as she moved. They got to the center of the dance floor where a fast song was playing. Colin came up behind her and placed his hands on either side of her hips. “I don’t know what I’m doing!” she shouted over the music.
Colin laughed. “I do!” he shouted back.
He gripped her hips and moved her from side to side against him. Penelope found herself getting more into it, swaying along side of him. She felt something hard, pressing against her backside, and she realized that it was Colin’s cock. Penelope kept on swaying, trying hard not to think about it. But then one of Colin’s hands was on her left breast, and the other was inching its way up the skirt of her dress.
One finger went inside of her, stroking her, and Penelope found herself holding onto Colin around his neck as she was unable to focus. She was lost in the feeling of him touching her in the most intimate of places, something she had never expected to have Colin Bridgerton of all people, do.
Colin Bridgerton was finger fucking her in the middle of a night club, and his cock was hard against her ass. Colin Bridgerton was desperate for her. “Penelope,” he murmured, his face close to her ear so she could hear him.
His fingers hit at exactly the right spot and he covered her mouth to keep anyone from hearing the little noises that she was making. When he pulled his hand out, he turned her around and looked at her, his gaze darkening.
Penelope’s heart pounded against her chest.
“Come on,” he said, “let’s go.”
They snuck out of the club, and neither one of them told Benedict or Eloise they had left.
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foreos · 1 year ago
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The Muppets Present: The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals
based on @the-muppets-present. saw their rule list and felt inspired. might do the other hatchetfield shows later if i feel so inclined :)
i just felt like the story of “average office worker who hates musicals gets trapped in a musical” was just begging to be muppetified.
so, without further ado,
ted- guys i went through so many options for ted. it was immediately hard. eventually i decided on rizzo, because i feel like similarly to ted, he’s kind of an asshole that causes problems for himself and everyone around him. plus, the “kick my head!” scene is even funnier if ted is like. one foot tall.
bill- kermit. i think kermit can and should be a sad dad. bill is like the most earnest man in hatchetfield and the idea of kermit being deeply disappointed that his friend won’t help him reconnect with his estranged daughter because he hates musicals so much is so funny to me.
professor hidgens- gonzo. duh. camilla is alexa. gonzo is the most eccentric bitch in the cast and would 100% kill people to get his musical produced. imagine gonzo shouting “come on you bastard!” at the apocalypse. gonzo would get struck by lightning and climb out of a pile of his friends’ bodies. he just would.
charlotte- miss piggy. stay with me here. from a meta standpoint, i always find it funny when piggy plays the secondary female role in a muppet movie and gets annoyed about it in interviews. from a character standpoint, post-infection charlotte’s high energy would be great to see if it was performed by the one and only piggy. imagine miss piggy singing join us and die. imagine the beginning part. she just beats the shit out of rizzo. gonzo shoots her.
mr. davidson- fozzie. idk i just got a mental image of him putting the newspaper down like jeff blim does at the beginning of the song and then fucking. waggling his ears.
sam- this one was hard because i had to think of you tied up my heart and show me your hands. i eventually picked link hogthrob. sam’s a pig, link’s a pig, etc.
alice- janice. hear me out. it’s not just because she’s “the other girl muppet.” imagine if alice just looked at bill and went “whatever, man” and walked away. truthfully thinking more about watcher world than tgwdlm for this one.
paul- jon matteson. paul stays the same, babeyyy. i think it just adds another fucking layer to his panic because not only is everyone randomly singing around him, they’re fucking muppets. just imagine la dee dah dah day if he was surrounded by muppets. he’s just some guy in a weird situation, and just some guy he shall stay.*
emma- lauren lopez. so i am breaking the number one rule of muppetfication to keep emma the same, but there’s a method to my goddamn madness. the only person paul can relate to in hatchetfield is the one other human being. plus, again, imagine the end of inevitable with emma screaming and crying while surrounded by fucking muppets.
*so i lied. just some guy he shall not stay. when inevitable starts, you first hear paul’s voice. he’s singing, just like he does in the show. emma very quietly goes “paul?” the same way, too. but what’s different is you can’t see paul. the camera pans over.
paul is a muppet.
he’s one of the lookalike ones, like from the first two episodes of the show and the jason segel one from the 2011 muppet movie.
“paul, you’re scaring me” indeed.
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cloudyyoimiya · 2 years ago
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HEAR ME OUT.. SCENARIO ABOUT PM!DAZAI,CHUUYA AND GN!READER WITH THE SONG ANIMAL IMPULSES BY IAMX or if it's too much you can do PM!dazai,chuuya and gn!reader Where reader is like the harbinger of death and has the personality of arlecchino from genshin (if u can do polyamorous)
i love this oh my word. i looked up the meaning to the song, and i feel like it’s very fitting for arlecchino and this scenario. for the arlecchino bit i also referenced the one show from the itallian theater since not a lot is known about arlecchino from genshin. also, i hope you don’t mind that i threw in some headcanons! thank you for requesting <3
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With a S/o Like Arlecchino from Genshin; PM!Osamu Dazai and Chuuya Nakahara
Format: Headcanons and Scenario
Potential Warnings: Mentions of blood, violence
Here’s a link to the song mentioned.
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First things first, you’d be the backbone of your relationship. You’d make sure that the two of them stay in line, and you’d make sure that they don’t try to kill each other over the littlest things.
The two of them would obviously know about your distain towards the Port Mafia. You have made it very clear that you would betray the mafia in a heartbeat if it was beneficial to you.
Now, since Arlecchino is a harbinger, let’s say that you’re an executive for the Port Mafia. You’d be known for leading a squad that specialized in vigilante-like work. This is what originally what drew Dazai in because he’s never seen someone try to do some good while being in the mafia.
You attracted Chuuya by being stern with your underlings, and how strong you seemed on the battlefield. One day he was assigned to work with you, and he was pleasantly surprised by your physical strength.
How all of you got in a relationship was quite tricky. Originally it was Dazai that confessed to you first, but Chuuya ended up overhearing and decided to interrupt the conversation by confessing his feelings as well.
You had to calm the two down, then lectured them about getting all worked up over something as idiotic as this. Eventually you made the two apologize to each other and made them make an agreement.
The relationship wouldn’t be as bad as it may seem. Dazai and Chuuya both put in effort to not fight while they’re in your presence. Every now and then you’d find them arguing over you in private, but once you gave them a cold glare they’d immediately stop talking.
Scenario…
“But (Name)..!” Dazai whined. “You already spent a lot of time with Chuuya! Do you love him more than me?”
You let out a prolonged sigh. You then pinched the bridge of your nose. “Osamu, I already told you. We were sent on a mission together. He didn’t take me on a date or anything of the sort. Do you understand me?”
On this particular day Mori had sent you and Chuuya out on a search and eliminate mission. Chuuya’s ability allowed him to cause a lot of collateral damage, so it was perfect for this particular mission. You only sat down somewhere behind him and watched as he tore through the enemies defenses.
The mission went well, and the two of you returned home without any injuries. As of now Chuuya was in the shower cleaning off some blood while you sat in the living room with Dazai holding onto your shoulders like it’s his lifeline. You almost felt as if he was going to crush your bones from how hard he was holding onto you.
“It’s not fair! You’re always sent on missions with Chuuya instead of me!” He continued to whine.
You put your hand on Dazais face and pushed him away from me. “It’s the bosses orders. There is nothing I can do about it.”
Dazai sighed as he flopped down onto the couch. He started to pout as you picked up your phone. You then started to scroll through some books that you wanted to purchase.
The man let out another sigh, this time louder than the last. You directed your gaze back at him, glaring daggers.
“If you’re so unhappy about the arrangements that Mori have made, then I highly suggest talking to him about it. I absolutely hate it when you act like this,” you said with an unamused expression.
Eventually Chuuya emerged from the bathroom, wearing comfortable pajamas. You glanced up at him then looked back down at your phone. He didn’t seem happy in the slightest.
“I could hear you whining from across the god damn house!” Chuuya raised his voice as he pointed at Dazai. “Do you know how fucking annoying you are?! I was just trying to take a nice and relaxing shower, but you just had to ruin it!”
You glanced up at Chuuya once more. He immediately stopped his yelling.
“Are you done? I dislike it when you engage in fights while I’m around; you know that,” you stated. You then looked at Dazai. “And you need to stop whining whenever something doesn’t go your way. It annoys the both of us. Are we done here? Good!”
You stood up and then grabbed Dazai and Chuuya. You immediately gave them a soft hug.
“You two will be the death of me,” you said contently.
Chuuya hummed as he wrapped his arms around the two of you. Dazai followed suit, squeezing the both of you rather harshly.
“You’re gonna break my bones!” Chuuya exclaimed.
“No I won’t!”
You only sighed. Tonight was going to be a long night of meaningless bickering.
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requests are open <3
also i do apologize if this is short. writing more than 2 characters dialogue is something i just mildly struggle with BDBDB
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peepslibrary · 8 months ago
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Introducing~ Lay Bankz
This is probably one of the funniest things I've ever written. I guess this qualifies as a song fic? If you've been on tiktok a couple months ago, you'd probably recognize this song.
Synopsis: What would happen if the LU boys heard the song Ick?
Warnings: Explicit lyrics, mentions of sex
Y'all can thank @trippygalaxy for this.
... Why is there a portal right outside the camp?
Why is there
a
PORTAL-
You're fairly confident the whole town heard your sigh and the chain's groans as y'all packed everything up and linked hands to go through the stupid portal. The other side of the portal was - in fact - NOT another Hyrule. It was a stadium. A stadium filled to the brim with people, a gigantic stage, and multicolored lights moving all around. Ok wait- the portal might've been the least of your problems.
The group looks around with emotions varying from confused to overstimulated. Honestly, if you squint you could see their braincells work together. You turn around, doing a quick headcount. “Wait, where’s Wind?” You count again and… nope still 9 including you. Fuck
I don't mean to judge off a first impression. Or his part-time job at 7/11. But he's a broke-ass peasant ask-
You feel your eyebrows furrow. Where do you know this song??
(ick) and he's got bad credit (ick) and he got a foot fetish (ick) DNR, but he tryin' paramedic
Shit... that's where you recognize this from. Tiktok
You're quick to move and cover Sky’s ears, making a silent prayer to whatever poor soul is listening. You need to get everyone out. You guys need to find Wind and you're fairly confident that everyone present will get red in the face when they register the lyrics.
"Time." Thankfully he managed to hear you despite the current situation. You see him angle his head up for a milisecond. Just subtle enough for you to reply with a tilt of your head towards an emergency exit. He doesn't hesitate to nod, moving to Wars and Twilight to help move everyone along. It's not a stretch to think that he's overstimulated with the environment. Has any of them ever heard this much noise so close?? You wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy.
Actually... Dink can kiss your ass. He's literally the one that pulled you into this craziness in your pjs. Like... dude coulda waited until you were decent t-
“Hey, what’s going on?” You curse and look up at the question-er. His eyes stuck looking at the ground, his ears lowered under your hands while his playing with the fabric of his sailcloth. “Sky I’m trying to get you guys out of-“
(Ew) Lady boner gone (Oh no), He dry humpin' me and huffin' like a dog (Hah, hah), And he whispered in my ear did I get off?
You didn’t think it was possible to cringe laugh *this* hard. But oh boy, the collective faces made shouldn’t have been that funny. Red in the face and trying to move everyone faster - incredibly hard considering they’re all standing like statues - are Time, Wars, Legend, and Twilight. Sky, Wild, Four, and Hyrule have moved to cover their own ears, with some crouched against the floor.
Somehow everyone is able to leave the stadium with only their innocence (or lack of thereof) injured, only to find Wind standing with a security guard eating a string cheese and a can of soda next to him.
“There you guys- what happened?” Wind makes his way to y’all and you use that chance to check for visible injuries, making sure no one injured him.
“Although it’s likely they would be the one injured.” Your brain supplied helpfully.
“Uhh…” you look at the group’s states, “let’s just say they weren’t expecting what was inside the stadium.” Wind nods in understanding, “Yeah, Sam wouldn’t let me in because it was ‘for adults.’” You spare a glance towards the guard, who gives a humored nod and sends you guys on your way.
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neptunedivine · 2 years ago
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midheaven observations pt. 1
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hi everyone! I hope you’re doing well. I wanted to talk about some midheaven observations I’ve made mentally. I know these aren’t all of them, but these were on my mind at the time. I hope you enjoy the read! :)
aries midheaven ✧ People with this angle either want to be/are the first to do something in their profession or the best at their profession (actually I feel like this could be said for all prominent Aries placements, but I digress). As someone with the placement, I feel like it’s very important for natives to be passionate about their career. Unless they will not want to pursue it.
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ex: Celine Dion ✧ Celine Dion has this midheaven and she’s regarded as one of the greatest vocalists of all time. Also, have you heard her sing other songs other than My Heart Will Go On? There’s nothing wrong with that song, it’s a classic for a reason. But I don’t think it displays how fiery her voice is when she sings. Listen to Treat Her Like a Lady, she sounds incredible.
taurus midheaven ✧ Those with Taurus ruling their midheaven will most likely find careers in beauty/beautifying, the arts, and finance. Sidereally, people who have Taurus placements are commonly Aries placements in sidereal astrology (as someone who has her moon in Taurus tropically, but her moon in Aries sidereally). I think the passion and “all or nothing” attitude Aries midheavens have toward their career comes through for Taurus midheavens, but instead of translating as impatience, I see it as stubbornness. Like they won’t get up and storm off if they don’t like what they’re doing careerwise, instead they might do it but they’ll complain the whole time. They also won’t put as much effort into their profession as if they cared about their work.
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ex: Tyler the Creator ✧ Have you seen the Jimmy Kimmel interview where Tyler talks about his two jobs before fully committing to music? (I’ll link it below). Not only is it hilarious, but Tyler also explains that he wasn’t happy at either of his jobs. At most he did the minimum to make an income, but he didn’t really care for it. Comparing this to how he talks about his music career, there’s a wild difference. He looks so happy and not only that but excited for the work and projects he gets to do not only in the music industry (which in itself expands past making albums and singles as he scored for a fashion show and for The Grinch film in 2018) but for his brand Golf le Fleur that expands into beauty with fragrances and fashion with the apparel and shoewear he creates (he also has some collaborations with Converse I believe). And, he’s very invested in his collections. I think I saw him geeking over this very rare Gucci or Cartier watch that’s really hard to get but he was gifted it. He’s very proud of his collections and he cares about them a lot (makes sense with Taurus not only being the traditional ruler of the 2H which rules over personal wealth, finances, self-worth, possessions, etc but is opposite Scorpio in the natal chart which in my opinion, I view as very possessive and those traits can be seen in its sister sign). It warms my heart tbh.
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scorpio ascendant + leo midheaven ✧ How much do you guys like the spotlight? Like actually? (no, I’m not talking to the Sagittarius risings with a Leo midheaven, I know you guys want that limelight 😂). I feel like it’s not too much, though you always end up getting the attention. I wonder if this is more of an emphasis on the Scorpio Pluto generation than the Sagittarius Pluto generation. I’m not saying this still won’t apply, but I question if it’s to a lesser extent since the Scorpio Pluto generation would have Pluto in their first house rather than their second house. That air of mystery and isolation could be stronger. I feel like I only see you guys when you’re pursuing your profession, almost to get it over with? Like “dang I got to walk this red carpet it’s a part of my job”, you could mask it well but I don’t think you guys really want to be there. As much as you guys may not like it, you’re very talented at what you do.
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ex: Frank Ocean ✧ This man casually dropped diamonds (not gems, DIAMONDS) and then he dipped. I feel like his “prime” (I don't like using that term because I have hope he’ll release something again) is regarded so highly. All of his very limited performances, releases, and interview(s?) are put on pedestals and watched over and over again. It almost doesn’t feel right to say he’s one of the greatest in the music industry, in my opinion, because his career lives in its own domain. I haven’t seen a songwriter really compare to him since, other than SZA (i love them both so much it’s insane).
aries ascendant + capricorn midheaven v. capricorn ascendant + libra midheaven ✧ I think all cardinal midheavens have the advantage of having their placement because it allows them to stick to their plans and achieve their goals (the same can be said for fixed midheavens too). But to what extent, depends on what sign is ruling.
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ex: Ariana Grande ✧ If we were to look at Ariana Grande, for example, she has a Libra midheaven and a Capricorn ascendant. So she’s set up well for career success and achieving her goals (which is true, she doesn’t have that many fame indicators in her chart, but she does believe in manifestation and has put in the hard work to achieve a lot of her success in the music industry and the perfume industry. Yes, I know she has well-off parents, but do you know how many nepotism babies have the money and still sit on their a**? Yeah…). But, I don’t know if being a businesswoman is as strong of a desire for her as presenting a beautiful aesthetic (which there’s nothing wrong with that!). This can be seen recently with how people feel about R.E.M beauty. Yes, it’s pretty, I’m a sucker for the space aesthetic. But I’ve seen on many occasions where people are not satisfied with the quality of her products.
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ex: Rihanna ✧ Now if we look at Rihanna, she's also a very successful woman in the music industry. (I looked them both up on Spotify and Ariana sits at 4th in the world for the number of monthly listeners she has and Rihanna sits at 10th, that’s amazing omg). I think other than Fenty Beauty, she had one perfume launch and a clothing brand that she abandoned…anyway. Fenty Beauty is the most commercially successful celebrity makeup brand, with revenues grossing $570 million. I think with Aries in combination with Capricorn here, paired with the business mindset and goals, there’s again the need to be the first and/or best at what you do. Rihanna shows this with Fenty Beauty and the Fenty brand not only with its massive success but with its inclusivity, from the models she chooses and the shade inclusivity of her makeup products.
✧ I think the difference in these ascendant and midheaven combinations is that with Aries and Capricorn, if the first goal doesn’t work, they’re quick to realize that, ditch it, and move on to the next plan for their success. I feel like that’s what Rihanna did with her fashion brand. With the Libra and Capricorn combination, there’s still a high rate for success, but I don’t think the need for success and winning especially is as strong. I feel as long as everything looks pretty and is going well to their standards, these placements are content.
that’s all for now. if you want to send me a placement that you’d like my observation on, you can leave your requests in my ask box! Please only send three placements per ask, but you can send multiple asks. It just makes it less overwhelming for me. see you later! 💕
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shou-jpeg · 1 year ago
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-Back on the Beat-
Part 3. 03
November 2nd, 10:30pm
Kim has been trying.
He's been trying really hard, but maybe he’s been approaching this wrong after all.
It doesn't seem like Porchay is all that impressed with him, because he keeps sending Kim songs about broken relationships no matter how many songs Kim sends him about how much he misses him.
Kim looks out at the city.
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Maybe he's hoping for too much. Porchay didn't directly respond to the song Kim recorded for him, so why would things be different with these songs that aren't even personal? 
Or maybe he's been telling Kim this whole time that he still hasn't forgiven him, even now that they’re… friends?
Maybe Kim needs to be more direct.  
Kim wouldn’t admit it out loud if you threatened him, but the idea of approaching Porchay and being direct terrifies him. 
He doesn’t even know what he would say to him.
He did try, when they hung out last week after dinner, but the words kept getting stuck in his throat. Then Porchay would say something funny and Kim would let himself get distracted. 
After that night, Kim had thought that maybe Porchay didn’t want to talk about it anyway. Things started to feel like they used to between them, back before Kim fucked it all up. Maybe this tentative friendship they’ve built was enough to heal that wound without addressing it directly. 
Though… 
Porchay does keep sending Kim pretty pointed songs. 
So maybe not then. 
They have become friends, but Kim supposes that doesn’t mean that Porchay wants to date him again. 
Kim looks down at his phone and opens Spotify. 
He can admit it to himself now, but he spent a lot of their time together in the past terrified that Porchay would learn about the darker parts of his life and decide he didn't want anything to do with Kim after all.
Kim's family is dangerous. So fucking dangerous. And Kim is dangerous, ruthless and cruel. Kim didn't want Porchay anywhere near that.
And Kim supposes he probably panicked a little, when Porchay confronted him that day.
He just… he had been trying to distance himself from Porchay, but he kept finding himself drawn back in.
They were almost…
There was… is… something about Porchay that is magnetic. Kim wants to be around him all the time. With Porchay, it feels like all the shit in his life is less overwhelming. Like he can breathe for a moment and gather the energy to fight it all again the next day. 
He misses that feeling. He misses Porchay. He has barely stopped thinking about him since they met at the studio the first time. Kim doesn’t think he will ever stop thinking about him. 
He didn't want to leave that night after dinner. Kim was having so much fun, and he wanted to stay longer and talk to Porchay more about whatever the conversation led them to. He wants to help Porchay make stupid memes again, he wants to write music with him, and cook dinner for him and talk with him.
And other things too.
Porchay is in this life now, no matter how Kim personally feels about it. There's no point trying to keep him from it anymore. Porchay won't leave Porsche, and Porsche is now far too tangled up with the mafia to even be able to leave, even if he wanted to.
And as much as Kim would love Porchay to be far away from this life, Kim is also selfish.
He looks down at his phone, navigating through Spotify to bring one of the many songs that he’s been associating with Porchay and the way he feels about him. He sends him the link.
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He’s going to keep trying.
If Porchay doesn’t want to date him, then Kim will respect that. But until Porchay refuses him outright, Kim is going to keep trying.
If these songs aren’t working, perhaps he should try a different angle. Porchay has been replying with break up songs, not refusal songs. That has to count for something, right?
He just needs to figure out what Porchay might accept from him.
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emistoast · 1 month ago
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linking taylor swift songs to book characters because i am unwell (part 1: marauders obvs)
The Prophecy - LILY DURING THE WAR
“please, i’m on my knees, change the prophecy. don’t want money, just want someone who wants my company. let it once be me. who do i have to speak to about if they can redo the prophecy?” I CAN PICTURE HER FINDING OUT ABOUT THE PROPHECY AND JUST WISHING FOR A NORMAL, HAPPY LIFE FOR HER FAMILY 😭
“a greater woman has faith, but even statues crumble if they’re made to wait. i’m so afraid i sealed my fate” i’m done. this is it.
“hand on the throttle, thought i caught lightning in a bottle” NO CAUSE HOLD ON I HAVE THINGS TO SAY!! lily spent her whole life feeling different. her sister thought she was a freak and even at school she was treated differently for being muggleborn. but now, with a husband and a kid she feels like she finally found something good. something safe and wonderful. she thought she caught lightning in a bottle. BUT THEN HALLOWEEN HAPPENS and obvs ⚡️and she realizes that catching lightning in a bottle is impossible, and she was never destined to have a happy family
— — —
right where you left me - i hate to say it but mary mcdonald
“did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion? break ups happen everyday you don’t have to lose it, she’s still 23 inside her fantasy” you can take this two ways,
1: she never moved on from the war because she obliviated herself and never got closure, pretending her life was fine when she always felt something missing, or
2: she only got rid of the bad memories, thus being stuck in a “perfect fantasy”
— — —
this is me trying - regulus black coded
“they told me all of my cages were mental, so I got wasted like all my potential. and my words shoot to kill when I'm mad. i have a lot of regrets about that” BRO NEVER LEARNED HOW TO COMMUNICATE PROPERLY, HIS WORDS *DO* SHOOT TO KILL
“it's hard to be anywhere these days when all I want is you. you're a flashback in a film reel on the one screen in my town” JEGULUS
very choices coded song
— — —
Now That We Don’t Talk - BLACK BROTHERS
“you grew your hair long, you got new icons, and from the outside it looks like you’re tryin’ lives on. i miss the old ways, you didn’t have to change. but i guess i don’t have a say, now that we don’t talk” i feel like it’s self explanatory but i will explain anyways !!
regulus pov after sirius leaves grimmauld place and stays with james. he’s finally free to express himself (growing his hair long) but regulus feels stuck in the past and just wants his brother back (even though he’d never admit it). he feels as if sirius has forgotten him and is an unrecognizable person (tryin’ lives on), but he knows he doesn’t have the right to say anything to sirius about it
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