#I started this like a month ago and it sat in my drafts forever

[planetformer-central]

Human lives are short.

And that is a harsh reality for young Sirius.

[cher-rei]

love love loved your recent trent fic!! could you please do another trent fic where him and reader have been besties for years but trent finally got out of the (best)friend zone, they’re on their first date and he’s super nervous? and reader is like ‘bro it’s me? why are u being so weird??’ but she doesn’t get just how long he’s waited for this. it’s a cute fluffy giggly first date where they navigate the new dimension to their relationship as they go from friends to lovers. thank you!! 🫶

one at a time [ T.A.A ]

I remember when I first noticed that you liked me back [k- cigarettes after sex]

pairing: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: you thought that it'd be easy leaping into a relationship with your best friend of five years, but your first official date with trent didn't go quite as planned which calls for a moment of anxious driven honesty

genre(s): new relationship, fluff with some angst

[wc: 2.05k] masterlist

notes: I had this marinating in my drafts forever, I'm so sorry anon😭😭 but I hope that you like it because I'm actually in tears help

trent knew that you weren't really a fan of restaurants, and to make you leave the house at 7 in the evening, only for it to start raining out of nowhere was an entirely different story. so why were you doing this exactly?

the two of you had just sat down at the table that trent had reserved at some fancy restaurant with a name that you didn't even want to attempt to pronounce. there was quite a bit of space between you and the other guests, seeing as it was quite reserved and you couldn't help but be grateful for the fact that your date wasn't going to be interrupted by someone asking him for a picture.

trent sat across from you in silence, the only other noise being the silent chatter from the other tables. it was unlike him to be this quiet but you were too caught up in the menu, joking about the dishes and their prices despite the simplicity of it.

you stifled a laugh at a memory, immediately wanting to tell trent but he was completely out of it. it looked as if he was holding his breath, lips pursed so tightly that they'd nearly vanished.

"dude are you okay?" you put the menu down and leant forward to get a better look at him. "you haven't said anything in like ten minutes."

he was speechless, every word lodged in his throat and he was sure that there were beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. you looked gorgeous. he couldn't even form a single coherent thought because he was absolutely memorised.

you were wearing the prettiest thin-strapped, black silk slip-on dress he'd ever seen, your bare shoulders (as crazy as it sounds) had him spiralling. it reminded him of the day he saw you in a spaghetti strap top, the comment of "you have a really nice collar bone. your shoulders too." slipping from his tongue without much thought.

that was 4 years ago, and here he was in a similar situation in a daze. as you sat across from him with such ease, your eyebrows furrowed in slight worry he couldn't help but wonder why it took him three years to accept the fact that he liked you, while it took another year to actually tell you.

what he didn't expect however was a pit of anxiety to form one month into your relationship. this was your first date as a couple and he was already blowing it— 30 minutes in and he hasn't said anything.

you on the other hand were growing more frustrated as the minutes passed. a heavy sigh left your lips, "you're not even listening are you?"

trent didn't know what to say. "I'm sorry." he swallowed hard, the realization slipping in that he was making this awkward. "I don't know what's going on with me right now."

you watched as he eased back into his chair with a hard swallow. this wasn't going to go anywhere and you could tell. you tried to blame his behaviour on work-related stress and came to the only logical conclusion at this given moment.

"this isn't going to work." trent eyes shot open in shock, afraid that you were referring to the relationship but you caught on. "I mean the date. today isn't a good day, so let's just go home okay?"

he fucked up. he could see it in the glint of anger and hurt in your eyes, a pang of guilt hit him like a truck when you stormed out before him. and the idiot that he was, only took off after you at least a minute later, only to find you angrily standing in front of the car in the rain because he had the keys.

when you both got into the car, no one said anything. the tension was thick and you felt as if you were suffocating just by being close to him and you couldn't help but want to cry. you were so uncertain about your relationship after this, especially since you liked him to the point of insanity.

your five-year friendship was something that you cherished so deeply, something that made you feel so safe and loved— yet here you were feeling like giving into your feelings was a mistake. when you first met him through a mutual friend you didn't expect the boy to become such a crucial part of your life.

the friendship started slow, but from the moment you got locked in an elevator together you found yourselves spending every waking moment of the day together. it was easy, so effortless and he was so caring and sweet that you couldn't not take a liking to him.

and when he confessed first it took you a minute to realise that he was serious your— eyes widening with an "Oh..." before he kissed you so gently that you went home that evening with the moment replaying about a thousand times.

but after a few days, something shifted. and this date only proved your suspicion right.

trent looked at you in the passenger seat, your back facing him as you stared out the window, your hair still damp. it was a risk but instead of going home like you wanted, he pulled over which raised some alarm for you.

"I'm sorry about tonight." was all trent could manage, a lump of guilt forming in his throat as he continued to watch the rain fall onto the windshield. and when you didn't answer him he felt like the earth had just swallowed him whole.

a pang of hurt washed over you at the sincerity in his tone, enough to make you sigh and turn to look at him— your lips pursed and your hand reaching out for his.

in truth, you weren't upset with him. you were just confused and so damn uncertain about everything. you were upset with the fact that he wouldn't tell you if something was bothering him, if he was uncomfortable or wanted to call it off. even if it was going to shatter your heart to pieces, he was still your best friend and mattered more than anything.

you urged him to look at you, he was hesitant at first but the look in his eyes made you melt. "talk to me." you ran your thumb over his hand, reassuring him that you weren't mad at him. "I need to know what's happening so that I don't end up storming out of this car in the rain."

it took him a moment to let out a deep breath and he shut his eyes tightly. "you."

your heart dropped to your stomach, and a hallow feeling entered your chest. "me? am I bothering you?"

when he didn't reply you gently let go of his hand but he was quick to pull it back, his eyes widened in realisation of what he said. "shit no, I don't mean that you're bothering me--" he fumbled over his words, "--I mean you are but not in the way that you think."

by now, your eyebrows were furrowed in utter confusion. you genuinely didn't know what he was trying to say, and his nervousness wasn't making you feel any better. "trent if you're going to break up with me in your car in the middle of the rain I swear to god I'm going to--"

"--I'm not breaking up with you!"

you threw your hands into the air, confused beyond recognition and slightly hurt. "then what are you doing?"

your raised tone made him groan in frustration. why couldn't he just say what he wanted to? "I don't know okay?"

your shoulders tensed up. "you don't know? are we just some big grey area now? you need to talk to me."

trent slightly shook his head, "its not that easy."

"it's not that easy?" your voice raised slightly as you repeated the question, dumbfounded. "dude it's just me. that should make it easy."

five years of friendship and now he choking up unable to talk? it's not that easy. those words rang like a funeral bell in your mind, echoing as if it were signifying your impending doom. was this it? two weeks was all it took for him to get sick of you? to make him feel uncomfortable?

trent scoffed and ran his hands over his face. and you were visibly not happy by his "amusement" to any of this. "do you find all of this funny?" you asked in genuine hurt.

he shook his head again and mumbled something under his breath. "you just called me dude."

"so? i always call you dude but that's not the issue right now."

"that's my point. this is all so casual for you, so normal and for me it's just--" just as he thought his thoughts were finally able to make any sort of sense, it got caught in his throat again.

you watched in utter shock as he groaned and tried to collect himself. this was the first time you'd seen him battle with his thoughts like this, nothing but uncertainty and frustration floating in the air but you waited for him to finish instead of interrupting.

this was new. you've had arguments before, but none of actual importance. but this— your opinions and demeanours clashing so easily made you realise that this was a completely different territory. it wasn't just petty arguments anymore and making up in five minutes, it was the need to communicate and understand each other.

your relationship held a much greater weight now and it was only the beginning.

"I've wanted this for such a long time," he spoke finally and caught your attention. his softened gaze settling on you, his best friend. "I've wanted you for such a long time and now that we're actually together it makes me nervous."

your lips parted in shock.

trent stifled an embarrassed laugh. "you make me fucking nervous. I can't believe I was able to be around you for three years while feeling like this and not mess our friendship up. I look at you and my palms begin to sweat, you laugh and my heart melts, you say my name and I feel myself blushing like a stupid kid."

oh this was not what you were expecting.

"when I look at you, I don't just see some idiot who looked at me like I was some alien when we first met— when I look at you, I see the girl who comes to all of my matches in my jersey, I see the girl who makes me want to shower her in every single bit of my love, I see the girl who makes me feel at home and loved."

by now you were crying, holding back the sobs and instead just letting the tears fall from your cheeks that trent was trying to wipe away, a smile on his face as he looked at you adoringly. like he didn't just make you think that he was going to break up with you.

oh, this was the boy you fell hopelessly in love with for sure. every single bit of him and his stupidity.

"when I look at you, I see my entire world."

you sniffled. a lot. absolutely out of control, nothing but incoherent mutters coming from your lips as trent pulled you closer to him for a hug. the tears fell helplessly into the crook of his neck where your flushed face was buried.

a teasing smile danced across his face. "why do you have to cry for everything?"

you pulled away from the hug and wiped the last of your tears and took a deep breath. you were so overwhelmed by everything that he said that you could barely think straight. "shut up, that was practically a proposal speech."

his smile only grew and he couldn't help but lean in for a small kiss, and left another one on your flushed cheeks. "we're nearly there anyway, might as well."

you hit his arm at the comment. "I hate you so much."

he caught your lips with his, a soft and meaningful kiss that left you both with an entire swarm of butterflies pounding their way out of their confinement. "well that's too bad, because I love you."

[n7punk]

I accidentally drafted this instead of scheduling it for the start of October BUT I wanna talk about the scrapbusting aspect of Sapphic September for me now it's done because it was really successful for me.

Oh to start, let me actually explain scrapbusting: it's going through your scraps/fabric pile and finally sewing the pieces you've stocked up there. Usually it's more of a quilters thing since they can much more easily use small scraps, but the term has spread through the entire sewing community now and I've also seen it used for finally completing projects you may have cut out but never sewn and such.

So a lot of my SS ideas came out of nowhere (what is Ritual. Like actually) but this event was also so good for convincing myself to finally do things I'd been holding on to forever and I wanna go over those! I'm also gonna include a little of AU-ctober/Sheratober in here at the end

highlights / fault lines (OotW) [teeth]: i have had the highlights document sitting in my WIPs folder for 2 years (Oct 2022), starting with the first paragraph in the second scene for the final fic, and then just a little blurb of what the fic would be about (adora struggling to adjust/with her depression after joining the rebellion to explore how unhealthy she managed to be in secret). when I started writing the teeth prompt, i wrote that first scene and went, wait, this could actually tie into that old idea, so i pasted it into that old doc and just went from there. I'm so glad to have finally gotten that idea out there and it was basically accidental lol.

Sickfic (the Greys) [UFO]: another file I've had sitting around for two years (Nov 2022), I wrote the first paragraph and then immediately switched over to what the first chapter of Recycled Stardust ended up being, the museum gallery opening. I was writing it for a friend who was sick, so "sickfic" made sense, but then I had the other idea and asked them which idea they'd prefer, and they chose the art gallery, so that other idea just sat there in my WIPs folder titled simply "sickfic.docx" for two years. When I saw UFO on the list I IMMEDIATELY went oh my god I'm going to finally finish this thing.

the bones of what you believe (OotW) [bones]: This is a partial hit. I came up with the idea for the broken bones thing just for this prompt, but as I started writing it, it naturally morphed into a reality break, and I had the following stub in my OotW ideas folder (titled 'delirium'): "Cognitive dissonance, catra adjusting to bright moon but its so pastel, and soft, and breezy, and smells like open air and flowers, it feels like a halucination, it’s difficult to tell what’s real". I ended up incorporating those aspects into this reality break, which I think works better than trying to turn that into its own fic separately, so another idea down!

Backseat Beast (Trade Today for Tomorrow) [moonlight]: I've had the catcrumbs drawing that inspired this sitting in my drafts, with those tags attached (minus Sapphic September lol), since the 4th of July... 2023. Yeah. I told you this was scrapbusting lol. I knew I wanted to do something with Catra, being far too aware for a kid her age, using it to listen in and be a bit of a little shit, but I never came up with more for it and had the idea it had to be multiple vignettes to make a new installment but like... it doesn't. It can just be one, lol, so as soon as I saw 'moonlight' I thought of TTfT since it's tied into immortality in that verse and I ended up using this idea even though there isn't actually any moonlight directly tied into this idea. I was going to try to write another scene that actually had the moonlight glow, but what I learned this month was that I need to give myself permission to write smaller things more.

mirrorworld (a left turn somewhere around etheria) (OotW) [surreal]: okay obviously I made that original tumblr post four years ago, but I had no intention of actually writing it. I happened to rediscover it two years later though (not really sure when) and decided I should actually write it. Well I wrote one paragraph and then never picked it back up. When I saw both the surreal and mirror prompts I knew I had to actually do this fucking idea now or just delete the damn file lmao.

Starlight (somewhere between the sand & stardust) [the divine/awakening]: This was intended to be my next project after Slipstream before Sapphic September grasped my attention with that fucking ghost prompt. Anyway just a glance at the prompt list told me I could fit in the Lightbeam sequel with these themes somewhere so hey, problem solved! I was a little burnt out on kidfic right after Slipsteam so the break to write all the stupid stuff gave me the room I needed to actually write Starlight.

A Prophecy from an Angry God [prophecy]: Oh boy this one. I don't normally like crossover fic because most of the time the themes of the two things just don't mesh, nevermind the plot, but I do sometimes like AUs just using another universe's rules (thus letting you make your own themes & plot) so that's what I wanted to do with this. The avatar fic came to me as a fever dream in the later house or early morning, I don't remember which, and I made the file in my Scrivener ideas folder on March 24th in 2023, but I wasn't sure I was actually ever going to write it. I remembered it when thinking about prophecy/fate in regards to the Avatar's role, though, and I was like. I'm not deleting this file ever, so I either need to write it now or look at it forever. So I finally wrote it LOL.

In AU-ctober, I've been seeing on the idea for Somewhere Beautiful, We Can Finally Meet for 7 months. I started working on it here and there, but AU-ctober planning started back in early September and I thought this would be a good way to close it out, even if it ended up being much longer than the five days that made up that week.

Rain or Shine I've been sitting on for AGES and the Sheratober prompts helped push me on ideas to finally get it out.

The Green Line idea is only a month old, but it was just "subway AU" and the Sleep prompt came along as a great way to spur interaction by falling asleep on public transit.

[dees-writing-corner]

forever and more - chapter 1

word count: 2344

pairing: ateez x fem!reader

if anyone wants to join the taglist just message <3

masterlist

previous

"Are you sure we've got the right place?"   

San leaned forward a bit from where he sat in the driver's seat.   

Poking my head between the front seats, I held out the address in my right hand.   

"For the umpteenth time, San, yes, I'm sure this is the right place."   

Mingi plucked the piece of paper from my hand.   

"I mean, maybe we've got the wrong place, there could be another 13th Header Lane somewhere else? To be honest, this place looks kinda abandoned."   

San nodded along, "Yeah, I'm gonna have to agree with Mingi on that one. For someone who only just passed away less than a month ago, this place doesn't look very well kept."   

We'd been sitting in front of the gates for the past 15 minutes debating whether or not we were at the right place. And I say debate, but it was more of San and Mingi not believing that it was the right place.  

The iron gate that encased the manor and grounds was slightly rusty looking. The ground surrounding the manor was overgrown with weeds and an odd fallen branch here and there. The manor itself had definitely seen better days. The old stone building was covered by ivy vines, the original black roof was now a faded dark grey, the stairs leading up to the door were covered in leaves, and the wooden door itself looked like it might collapse with just a knock.   

Rolling my eyes at their antics, I pointed to something above the gate, "Yes, and if you two looked a bit higher, then you would notice the words 'Rora Manor'."   

Ducking my head down so I could have a better look at the gate, "Now, do I have to get out of the car to open the gates or something, because I don't think they're auto-"   

Before I could finish my sentence, the gates started to slowly swing open, an awful squeak emitting from the hinges as it did so.   

Mingi swallowed nervously before glancing back at me, "Why don't we just turn back. I mean, £500,000 is nothing to you."   

Shaking my head, I urged San, "It was probably just the breeze that blew it open, nothing to be scared about. Come on, San, let's drive in." 

Slowly coming up to the main house, I let out a small breath, "This place is bigger than I thought."   

Stepping out of the car, I stood between San and Mingi, "Let's check the place out before we bring the things in."   

Carefully making our way up the stairs, we made it to the front door. 

"Should we knock?"   

I looked at the two men beside me, only to be met with a questioning gaze from San.   

"Knock? You own the place now, and you want to knock? What do you expect to be in there? Ghosts?"   

"Oh, shut up. Okay, fine, let's just open it then." 

Turning the handle, I slowly pushed the door open. The inside of the house wasn't as bad as I thought it was. There was no dust or anything, and everything seemed to be in order.  

Closing the door behind us, we stood in the middle of the entry taking everything in. Most of the furniture seemed to be made of mahogany.  

As my eyes travelled over the portraits lining the wall up the stairs, I felt a cold draft when my eyes landed on the portrait in the middle. It was of a handsome young man, probably in his early twenties. He had blond hair that was slicked back, his eyes hard as he stared ahead. And for some reason, I felt as if he was actually staring at me like he was there. Like he was aware that someone was staring at him. 

"Can I help you?" 

Startled by the voice and the screams from San and Mingi, I jumped slightly before placing a hand over my heart as if that would stop it from trying to burst out of my chest.  

Eyes wide, I quickly turned around to see who the stranger was. Though not before hitting San and Mingi on the arm.  

"What is wrong with you two?"  

San sheepishly scratched the back of his neck, "Sorry, he startled us."

Turning back to the man, I took him in. He was probably in his early twenties with his dark hair slicked back, a sharp gaze and a black suit that, if I had to guess, was mandatory to anyone who worked for my Aunt Jenna because it was very similar to the one her solicitor wore the day that I met him. There was something about him that seemed familiar, though I can't quite point out what.  

"Hi, sorry, I'm Y/N. I inherited this property from my Aunt Jenna. I didn't really expect anyone to still be here."  

The man slowly nodded, "Yes, we have been expecting you, Ms L/N. I am Seonghwa. I usually tend to the grounds; however, I have not been able to do so since your aunt's passing as I had matters to handle. That is why it is in its current state. Though I can guarantee that I will have it back to its former glory very soon." 

Nodding, "Okay, umm, you can just call me Y/N, and these are San and Mingi, they'll be staying with me." Said boys gave him a small nod. "And you said 'we'? Are there still more people on the grounds?" 

"There are technically 5 more members of staff here. Yeosang, who is the butler of the house, is currently in town getting some necessities for you. We weren't quite expecting you to arrive this soon. Jongho, who guards the grounds, is also in town with Yeosang. Then we have Wooyoung. He is the chef of the house, though don't be surprised if he pops up somewhere suddenly because he is also quite mischievous. Wooyoung is," Seonghwa frowned slightly, "I actually don't know where he is right now. The last two are Yunho and Hongjoong. They help out around the house, though you probably won't see them that often, especially Hongjoong. He tends to a lot of the things outside the manor." 

Just as I was about to say something, I was cut off by a disembodied voice. 

"I'm home~" 

Although Seonghwa's face remained neutral, I could see the exasperation behind his eyes, "That would be Wooyoung." 

Footsteps could be heard behind us, though before I could turn to see who it was, an arm was slung across my shoulder.  

Blinking, I slowly turned my head to the side.  

"Hi?"  

He brushed some of his hair back and grinned at me.  

"Hi boss, I'm Wooyoung, I'll be in charge of your meals and be your daily dose of serotonin. And if you want to have some fun, you can find me in the kitchen."  

Wooyoung sent a wink my way before going over to Seonghwa.  

"Have you got those herbs from the garden I asked for? I kinda need them."  

Seonghwa pinched the bridge of his nose, "They are on the kitchen table."  

And with a nod, Wooyoung made his way back into the kitchen.  

"I'll show you three to your rooms. Follow me."  

Following him up the stairs, my gaze landed on the portrait of the young man. As we went past it, my eyes stopped on the copper plate underneath it. Kim Hongjoong.  

Before I could think deeper about the name, Mingi put a hand on the small of my back, urging me to move forward.  

"Keep going. If you stop for too long, we're gonna get lost here." 

Walking down a corridor, Seonghwa halted to a stop and turned to face us. 

"I assume you'd like to stay on the same floor, yes?" 

Seeing us nod, Seonghwa then turned back around and pointed to the end of the corridor. 

"Y/N, your room will be the one furthest down the corridor. That's the master bedroom. Your friends can stay in the rooms next to it. I'll leave you three to yourselves to settle in. If you need help with your luggage, just call for me. Or, if you are willing to take a risk, Wooyoung." 

By the time we brought everything in and tidied everything up a bit, it was already 5 in the afternoon.  

The three of us were currently sitting in my bedroom, talking.  

"So, Y/N," San turned from where he sat at the foot of the bed, "What do you think?"  

"Of what?"  

"The people working here, what do you think?"  

Chuckling, I rolled over so that I was facing him, "I think they are very good-looking."  

"Very good -" Mingi smacked my calf, "That's not what he meant. What vibes are you getting from them?"  

"Vibes? Guys, I just have 'inklings', it's not like they're reliable."  

"Well, I can tell you what San and I think. There's something off with them."  

Shrugging, I crossed my fingers over my stomach as I turned onto my back.  

"I mean, sure, they're a bit weird, but I'm not getting any bad vibes from them. Dark, maybe. But not bad. Also, when have you two been so superstitious?"  

San sat up from his position, "We're not, but your 'inklings' are more reliable than you think. Now come on, I smell food."  

Laughing, Mingi and I got up and made our way down to the kitchen with San.  

The moment I stepped into the kitchen, I stopped in my tracks.  

Oh, that is a lot of food.  

Snapping out of my thoughts, I made my way to the kitchen island.  

"You need help with anything, Wooyoung?"  

Wooyoung shook the spatula in his hand, "Oh, no, you, Mademoiselle, are going to sit down and relax. I have everything handled. Dinner will be served in 5 minutes."  

Nodding, I was just about to leave when Wooyoung stopped me.  

"Y/N? Are you alright eating with just your friends or would you like us to join you?"  

"You guys can come join us! The dining room is far too big for just three people."  

Smiling, I made my way into the dining room where I noticed Seonghwa and a couple of unfamiliar faces.  

"Good evening!"  

"Ah, Ms L/N."  

Grimacing slightly at the name, I nodded slightly as I made my way to them.  

"Sorry, I mean Y/N."  

"That's better."  

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you Ms L/N."  

A pale hand came into view, and as my eyes trailed up the arm and to the face, I was met with a remarkably handsome man. His blond hair was pushed back with a couple of strands falling onto his forehead, a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and the birthmark at the corner of his eye only seemed to add to his charm.  

"My name is Yeosang and I am your butler."  

Placing my hand in his, I smiled, "Pleasure's all mine, and please, call me Y/N."  

Letting go, I turned my attention to the muscular, dark-haired man beside Seonghwa, "I’m going to assume that you are Jongho?"  

Earning a small nod from him, I smiled because of course the guy that guards the place is the cold and gruff one.  

-later that night- 

Curling into the corner of the sofa, I looked at the open book in my hands. It's about 11.30 right now and everyone was in bed while I decided to sit in the living room for a bit longer.   

Now that I could finally have some peace and quiet, I couldn't help but think over some of the weird things that happened.  

One that interests me the most is Kim Hongjoong. I remember Seonghwa mentioning something about Hongjoong helping out in the house, but the plate underneath the picture had two dates on it. If this Hongjoong guy -  

Startled, I turned my head to the left, towards the corridor where I heard the footsteps.  

Pausing for a moment, I shook my head before looking back down at the book. It was probably just some floorboards or something. Though before I could carry on with my thoughts, I heard the footsteps again, only this time, they were closer.  

Closing the book, I slowly got up from the sofa and walked towards the corridor. As I was about to look into it, a tall figure came out of the dark, causing me to stumble over the carpet and crash to the floor.  

Placing a hand on my chest, I tried to calm my racing heart as I eyed the man in front of me.  

"You must be Y/N!"  

Nodding slowly, "Yes, and may I know the name of the guy who almost gave me a heart attack."  

"Oh, right! Sorry about that, I thought everyone was in bed. I'm Yunho, I, well, I help out with bits of everything here."  

Yunho smiled brightly as he helped me up from the floor.  

"Nice to meet you. Hopefully the next time I see you, I won't be sent tumbling to the floor."  

Yawning slightly, I reached a hand up to massage my neck.  

"Come on, I'll walk you up to your room."  

As we walked up the stairs, my eyes, once again, landed on Kim Hongjoong. I don't know what it was about that portrait, but it was just weird.  

"We're here, I'll see you in the morning."  

As I watched Yunho's figure leave, the light from the moon caught his sleeve, making me notice something.  

"Hey, Yunho?"  

He turned around, slightly confused.  

"You've got a brown stain on your sleeve."  

Yunho held his arm up, "Oh, must've spilt my coffee this morning. I'll wash it out later.  Goodnight, Y/N."  

"Goodnight."  

Lying in bed that night, I could feel my eyes starting to shut, and as I drifted off, I had one last thought.  

I could've sworn that stain was more maroon than brown.  

That night, a figure appeared at the side of the bed, watching.  

Placing one of its hands on my head, it whispered, "Soon, we shall all be reunited." 

next

taglist: @layzfeelit

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

Dawn

Pairings: Professor!Matt x Student!Reader

Word Count: 934 words

A/N: A few months ago I was searching for different prompts and came across this: *The last words of your story are, “As night became day, he started to understand the truth.” Now, go write the rest*. I thought it was very interesting and different so I’d like to give it a shot along with the theme: Forbidden Love. So this is the end result. (This also has been saved in my drafts forever so I thought I should post it idk 🤷‍♀️)

Tags: @theworldofotps , @writtingrose , @letsgivethisonemoreshot , @aerynscrichton , @daddyhausen , @damnnhausen , @unoficialy-married-to-ace-austin , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @sultryfandoms , @new-zealand-chic , @crowleysqueenofhell , @thealliasylum , @legit9thlunaticwarrior , @baysexuality , @josiewrites , @seeingstarks , @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch , @whenimakeitshine1234 , @blaquekittycat , @tahiri-veyla, @moxkindagirl

Behind the big tree hills, they hid. The sun shone fearless and bright upon the San Bernardino National Forest's clear blue sky, and near the lake Matt sat, staring at her as she danced barefoot on the grass near the lakefront. He couldn’t have picked a better day to bring her here, the summer break dragged all the locals and students straight to the beaches, leaving the forests almost inhabited and free from curious eyes.

Her white crepe sundress flowed around her thighs as she spun around, before laughing when the dizziness made her fall on the grass. The sky spun like a wheel before her eyes, making the fluffy white clouds quickly change shapes from a dog to a man, and then they turned into him.

“Are you ok?” Matt chuckled. His face shielded her from the harsh sunbeams and his dark soft hair fell like a curtain around her face. He always let his hair down whenever he was with her, knowing how much she loved the long, dark mane.

“Why wouldn’t I?” She asked back with a giggle, her own fingers twirled around the fluffy locks as she admired the gleam of devotion on his warm chocolate eyes.

The wind blew softly between the branches before it slowly caressed the water on the lake, crashing oh so gently against the calm water as it brought up the familiar song to their ears.

…Pars avant l'aube

Quand la lumière veut nous voir

Quelque part dans le monde…

“I don’t want you to go back to the dorm. Come home with me tonight, please” Matt whispered against her lips, his warm breath caressed her skin like a safety blanket, making all of her worries suddenly disappear. “As a matter of fact, why don’t you spend the summer break with me? You’ll save the dorm rent money and we can be together” His lips covered hers in a sweet kiss as if to make it impossible for her to bargain against his request.

“That’d definitely be a money saver” She chuckled, and her arms circled around his waist, pushing him closer to her body. “But I never pictured you as the playing house type though” Her eyebrow raised in surprise when he smiled back “I’d love to play house if you’re gonna be the one playing with me. Plus, why postpone the inevitable? We already know that the minute you graduate we’ll be finally free to get married”

“Oh is that so?!” She chuckled and smirked with a tease. “And what makes you sure that I’ll want to marry you, huh? Maybe my destiny is to marry the handsome but dumb quarterback, not the sexy anthropology professor. Have you ever thought about that?”

“No, and I won’t!” Matt laughed before blowing a raspberry on her neck. Her loud laugh echoed through the deserted forest. “Because you’re mine, dovey. And I’m the one you’ll get married to, I’m the one you have the hots for and most importantly: I’m the one you love”

“So full of yourself, aren’t you?”

“Did I lie though?” He smirked

“No, but you definitely love to overexaggerate things”

Matt let out a fake shocked gasp “How dare you?! I’m the equivalent of humbleness!”

“That amongst other things” She giggled before her fingers pulled his white tank top up so she could softly scratch his tanned back.

Matt hummed in pleasure as goosebumps rose on his skin despite the burning summer sun “And what other things could I be?” He smirked against her lips, his hands traveling down her body, stopping at her warm exposed thigh and curling his fingers around the soft meat to pull it up his hip.

“I can show you what those are back at your place” She whispered

“What if I want a sample now?” Matt teased while letting his fingers trace the outline of her cotton panties.

“We’ll have to make it quick though”

“You know I love it quick, dove”...

The large multicolored roses bouquet decorated his bedroom nightstand, that’s where she chose to place it after he bought it for her on his way back from the grocery store. “I want it to be the first and last thing I look at” Was her response to the generous bouquet.

Her bags flopped around the bedroom floor, none of them wanted to waste any time unpacking her things the night before. The loud silence of the early hours of the morning was enough to get him to think.

The military green mug fumed with the freshly poured coffee as he sat beside her on the bed. She was still asleep, sprawled on the mattress like a starfish, her hair fell like an untamed mane around her features and her lips pouted as her cheek pressed against the fluffy pillow.

Matt watched her sleep for what felt like hours, mesmerized by her natural beauty that got occasionally blocked by the sight of the green mug whenever he took a sip of the hot, black liquid. She mumbled something in her sleep, which made him instantly hear the same song they heard at the lake again.

…Toi et moi, dans la nuit on trouvera

Quelque part où déposer les fleurs qu'on a cueillies…

She shifted in her sleep before her eyes opened to stare at him. Matt felt a wide smile taking over his lips as he pushed her hair away from her face to get a better look at her features. That familiar feeling surrounded his heart, and the same thoughts roamed his mind. And as night became day, he started to understand the truth.

[theunseenpoet]

A FW Fanfic idea

This is actually an idea I came up with while writing Fire Breather so I'm not sure how I feel about it but I just need to make a few points before you read the draft:

I don't plan for Xaden to be the main love interest (it's just too difficult for me because the books revolve around him and Vi)

But I'm planning to write some tension between my OC and Xaden. Kind of like a love triangle but only for him while she's focused on her love interest (who I still have yet to figure out so lmk who you would want her with)

Also, I don't think I've ever written an OC who is a young mother. Ik a lot of people aren't a fan of that trope, but I personally love it...plus, who wouldn't want to see the shadow wielder as a dad??

And I'll also be introducing two signets that we haven't heard yet in the books.

Let me know what you guys think of this rough draft of chapter 1 before I continue writing.

Also a shout out to LeonieStarLee on wp who helped me start this chapter. Sadly, she's stopped writing but we've been helping each other for a few months now with editing, and she wanted to help write the first chapter with me since I was a little stuck x

---

The sun seeped into my room through the curtains like golden spears as I lazily opened my eyes to start the day. Stretching my arms above my head, I smiled in satisfaction at the release felt in my joints before I rolled onto my side, only to be stopped by a small body snuggled up against me, dirty-blond curls covering the tawny brown skin of his forehead.

"Good morning, bub," I whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

The little boy beside me wiggled around for a few minutes before cracking those dark brown eyes open, looking right up at me—the eyes of his father. "Mama," he mumbled, his lips pulling into a bright smile. "Is today the day?"

Wrapping my arms around him, I pulled him against my chest with a heavy heart that I refused for him to ever see in my eyes. "It is, which means your uncles and aunty should be here soon."

"Uncle Li?" His eyes lit up seconds before he was scrambling off me and went face-first into the pillows, making me snort. But like his father, he got right back up and jumped off our bed, then stumbled a step toward his stuffed red dragon on the hardwood floor.

It was rare for my twin to visit after Levi, my son, was born four years ago, considering we didn't want anyone to know about his existence—especially if anyone found out who his father was. 

Keeping Levi's existence a secret was something I had been ready to die with since the day he was born. Only Liam, my adopted older brother Heze, his father, and my best friend Cecilia, knew that Levi was alive and my son.

Not even my son's father knew.

But that wasn't my fault. In fact, I waited on my porch every morning and night for a year straight after Levi was born, hoping his father would one day show up.

Yet, not once did the man who said he loved me, show up.

Not. Once.

And so, I gave up on waiting. I didn't have time to wait anymore. I had a son who would forever and always be my first priority. I had a son who deserved his mom's undivided attention. I had a son who needed a loving and caring mother.

So for my son, I gave up on loving anyone who wasn't him or my immediate family.

I gave up on being so angry and resentful toward his father because I never wanted my boy to see that side of the world at such a young age.

And I gave up on hoping that Xaden Riorson truly loved me and would one day return with his arms wide open, wanting to take us in as his family—or just Levi, at least.

I sat up on the edge of our bed, pushing my blond hair over my shoulder. "Do you want me to pick out your clothes today or will you try to do it yourself like yesterday?"

"I've got it, mommy!" A cheesy smile covered his face as he gave me a thumbs up, walking toward our armory. "I'm a big boy."

I stood up, sending him a proud smile. "You very much are a big boy," I hummed, picking up my cream coat from the floor before pushing my arms through it. "Remember, you'll need something warm."

"And blue!" Because that had been his favorite color since the day he could say the word.

"What color should mommy wear?" I asked him, starting to pick up our clothes from the floor.

"Well, Uncle Heze always brings home yellow flowers because he says it's your favorite color," he rambled, throwing random items of his clothes on the ground near his feet. For a four-year-old, he was very observant. "I think you should wear yellow today."

"Yellow it is." I sent him a warm smile just when the door cracked open and Kevin, my adopted father, stepped into the room, his hazel eyes scanning the two of us before he smiled. "Morning, Kev."

"Morning, darl," he greeted me, pressing a kiss to the top of my head as he passed to reach Levi who picked up a grey shirt, then scrunched his face up and threw it over his shoulder. "Having trouble making a decision there, little man?"

"I have too many blues to pick from!" Levi grumbled, plopping himself down before crossing his arms over his chest with a pout. "This is too hard."

I silently watched, leaning against the doorframe with my arms full of clothes as Kevin chuckled, crouching down beside him. "Life is full of hard decisions and choices, Levi," he gently said, picking up a random navy blue shirt. "But that's why family is around. We're always here to help you whenever you ask for help, that is." He handed Levi the shirt before looking over his shoulder at me, nodding his head. "You go do what you need to do, Dosie. I'll make sure the little man doesn't have a tantrum."

"Thank you," I quietly said. "I'll start on breakfast," I further added, flashing them a smile before walking out of the room. Their laughter echoed with each step as I walked down the hallway, the walls full of sketches Heze had created over the years, including a few of Levi's drawings and plants I had pressed between the pages of books.

I dumped the clothes in a basket in the bathing room, where a tub sat under a window, facing the mountains outside. Even in the morning light, the sun's rays glowed against the morning fog outside.

"I picked your dress, mama!" Levi yelled, his voice bouncing off the walls.

I walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind me. "Make sure to leave it on my bed and I'll change into it the second I'm done with cooking," I promised him, walking into the sitting room that opened up to the small kitchen and dining room. With only the three of us—once four before Heze joined the Rider's Quadrant—we lived in a small house, which I didn't mind.

The only people we had over were the usuals and the only people that I trusted to know of Levi's existence. 

Heze joined us whenever he could get away from Basgiath on his Red Clubtail—Daenth—and he always brought flowers, knowing I enjoyed drying them out. 

Cecilia Hansley was my best friend since childhood and a 'marked one' just like me, the two of us inked with a relic of swirls and slashes on our left arms. That girl was always over considering her adopted family was only a five-minute walk away and she constantly spoiled Levi with treats she baked herself. 

Then there was Liam, my twin older—by three minutes—brother who I only saw once every six months. 

Considering tomorrow I would be crossing the Parapet to the Riders Quadrant—much to my dismay—with my brother and Cecilia, Liam lied to his adopted father about staying with a different, unmarked, family tonight. Truth was, he wanted to be here tonight, and Kevin agreed without a second thought. We just had to make sure no one saw three marked ones together today outside my home.

"Levi's just getting dressed," Kevin informed me, snapping me out of my thoughts as he strolled into the room.

I took in a deep breath, grabbing the basket full of eggs off the counter. "Did he like the outfit you chose or argued again?"

He chuckled, grabbing the announcements off the counter. "A bit of both but we came to an agreement. That boy has your attitude, that's for sure."

I raised a brow at him, cracking two eggs onto the hot pan in front of me. "Half that damn attitude is your son's fault," I mused, shaking my head. "The last time they were together, I caught Heze teaching him swear words in Tyrrish."

"And who did your brother learn those words from?" he countered, sending me a knowing look while sitting in his green armchair as I cracked another four eggs.

"Hey, I was younger then!" I grumbled, pushing the eggs around with a fork while waiting for them to cook.

After a few minutes of the eggs sizzling to fill the comfortable silence, I leaned against the counter and the lock on the front door clicked, then pushed open, revealing my tall, broad adopted brother, his jet-black hair buzzed to his scalp and the silver scar on his jawline crinkling on his dark brown skin when he smiled at the sight of me.

"How's my favorite family this morning?" Hezekiah said in a way of greeting.

"Leave your weapons on the shelf!" Kevin called out, not looking up from the announcements once.

I snorted, scooping the eggs out evenly on four plates while Heze rolled his eyes, closing the door behind him and listening to his father. "Glad to see you made the journey in one piece," I hummed, glancing at the battle ax he placed on a high shelf out of Levi's reach. "Levi should be out here soon. He's just getting dressed," I informed him, putting the dirty pan in the sink.

"And what about you? How are you, Theodosia?" he pushed, always asking that whenever I'd answer about Levi and not myself.

"Tired but once I have a coffee and a bath, I'll be ready for the day," I truthfully answered him, knowing that he always knew when I was lying. And I wasn't lying today—I was exhausted after being up most of the night to pack my rucksack and create folders to help Kevin with Levi since I'd be gone until who knew when.

"You're not telling me—"

"Don't start hounding your sister, boy," Kevin lectured, folding up the announcements. "She's been up all night packing. At least wait until after breakfast before you start interrogating her."

I laughed at Heze's offended look, passing our father a plate and fork that he took with a small thank you before I walked toward the table where Heze leaned behind a chair. "You two need to start eating your breakfast before someone snaps at the other."

Heze rolled his eyes, sitting down as I placed a plate before him. "He's always in a grumpy mood," he whispered.

"I heard that!" 

The two of us shared a wide-eyed look before quietly laughing and I headed back into the kitchen as Levi walked into the room wearing the navy blue shirt Kevin picked out and white trousers, smiling up at me. "You look very handsome, bub. Oh, and Uncle Heze is here."

"Heze!" he chirped, waving excitedly at Heze who returned the wave, then his eyes darted to the cooked eggs on the counter. "Can I have some?"

"Of course," I said to him, picking up a plate. "You need to eat up because Uncle Li will want to do something fun with you today."

His eyes lit up, making my heart warm in my chest as he followed me to the table. I placed down the plate of eggs beside Heze, leaving the two to eat and talk about something to do with dragons as I walked back to the kitchen. 

Before I could eat my food, I tied my short hair into a bun and splashed some water on my face, resetting my morning nerves to a calm ring. Then I placed my plate down across from Levi and left it there, fetching his hairbrush and hair cream from the bathing room to brush his curls.

As I walked back into the dining room, the front door opened again, and I smiled when Cecilia's yellowish-green eyes locked with mine, her dark brown hair in its usual slicked-back bun, and in her hand was a brown paper bag, meaning she baked something again.

"Good morning, Mairi-Whitlock family!" she cheered, her usual energetic energy making Heze groan, Kev laugh, and Levi cheer just as loud as her, sending bits of egg flying from his fork. She closed the door behind her, walked to the head of the table, and put the brown paper bag down. "I made strawberry tarts for the little man."

"Yay!" Levi cheekily smiled, dropping his fork on the table before snatching the bag. "These ones my favorite!"

"That's exactly why I made them." Lia ruffled up his curls, walking behind his chair.

I pointed the hairbrush at her, raising my brows. "You do that every time before I brush his hair. It's like you enjoy watching me struggle."

"Hey, someone's got to challenge you." She put her hands up in mock surrender while Heze snorted.

"You say that as if I wasn't a mom at sixteen," I deadpanned, starting to softly brush through Levi's curls before I could style them. "But," I drawled, smiling down at my boy who stuffed his face with tarts, "that was my best choice in life."

"Damn right it was," Heze said around a mouth full of eggs.

"I swear you're always talking with food in your mouth." Lia sent him a disgusted look, sitting at the head of the table. "Learn to swallow."

"Clearly Dosie didn't," he muttered under his breath.

But I heard him loud and clear, slapping him on the back of his thick head with the hairbrush. "Watch yourself," I warned him, narrowing my eyes to a glare when he groaned, rubbing his head and Lia cracked up laughing. Little Levi was too caught up in his sweets to even know what was happening. "I might not be able to fight well, but she can, and she'll happily kick your butt."

Lia smirked, waving her fingers at him. "Yeah, I will."

"Why Dad loves you two so much is beyond me," he grumbled, flipping us off when I finished brushing through Levi's hair, starting to run the cream through his curls. "You two are my biggest pains in the ass."

"Language!" Levi lectured him, making his eyes grow wide while I started laughing with Lia. "You can't say bad words, Uncle Heze."

"Oh, he's certainly a Mairi with that tone."

I whipped my head toward the door, my eyes widening with happiness at the sight of my twin brother walking through the door, a rucksack on his back and a different bag in hand. "Liam!" I wiped the cream off my hands and onto the back of a swearing Heze before running around the table and throwing my arms around Liam. "You're finally here!"

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," he admitted, dropping the bag at our feet before wrapping his arms around me and almost squeezing the air from my lungs. But I couldn't care. My brother was here. "Sorry it's taken me ten months to visit again. Shit's been weird at the manor."

"You're here now and that is all I care about." I hugged him tighter before pulling away, unable to stop smiling. "From tomorrow on, we won't be separated again."

While growing up, Liam and I were attached to the hip. We even shared a room together until we were twelve and then when we had our own rooms, we had a connecting door. Most of the time, one of us slept on the other's floor because we were so co-dependent on each other.

And then there was our little sister, Sloane. We always dragged her to join us in everything, but she liked her own personal space. But then again, most nights she would build a fort in one of our rooms and the three of us used to sleep in them together.

Then the Tyrrish 'Rebellion' happened and the three of us were separated, shoved into new families without contact with each other.

Except after a year of separation, the duke allowed Liam to reach out to me and Sloane. Obviously, I answered my brother, and we were allowed to visit but Sloane's adoptive family refused for her to contact us and we couldn't even find out where she was—even after Kevin fought for three years to find out.

Our little sister was just gone, forced to not contact us until she could enter the Riders Quadrant, which wouldn't be until next year, after we would.

"We need to cross the parapet first," he gently reminded me, then sent a small wave to the others. "Everyone's here then?"

"Obviously." Lia sent him a knowing look.

As if Levi only just noticed Liam's arrival, he let out a cheer, nearly falling off the chair before Heze caught him with one hand and helped him to the ground. Then the little boy was running straight to Liam who crouched, opening his arms wide.

When they two embraced each other, I smiled, feeling my heart beating at a steady rhythm for the first time in ten months.

"Look at my nephew." Liam stood up again, turning Levi in his arms to hang upside down. "You're growing taller every time, little man."

"I'll be taller than you one day," Levi challenged, crossing his arms over his chest. "And way stronger!"

Liam laughed, turning back up right before placing him on his feet. "And there's that ego you inherited from your fath—rainbows." My twin cringed, avoiding my annoyed look while Heze widened his eyes, staring at his cleared plate, Lia whistled lowly, shaking her head, and Kev muttered under his breath, walking into the kitchen.

Due to my history with Xaden and how heartbroken he left me; everyone here knew to not bring him up around me. Well, except Liam who always asked him about him whenever he visited.

To be honest, talking about Xaden wasn't such a big issue to me as it used to be. But I didn't appreciate the 'father' word being dropped around Levi, especially when talking to or about him in the same sentence.

Of course, Levi knew he had a father, but he didn't understand why he wasn't around. And for his own protection, he didn't know his father's real name. Could you blame me for keeping that from him? He was four years old and young children say a lot of things that shouldn't or had heard from others. The last thing I ever wanted for his own safety was for him to tell the wrong people who his father was.

So, to Levi Mairi, his father's name was Zane. Not much of a difference from Xaden, but it worked and kept him safe.

Thankfully, he didn't inherit his father's dark locks, making it easier to not make a connection...but it was his eyes that worried me. They shared the same eyes and I'd been reminded many times by my small family that if Levi was ever in the same room as Xaden, then everyone would make the connection between them.

'Never have Levi and Xaden in the same room,' was the first mental rule I made for myself after what they told me.

"Rainbows?" Levi tilted his head at his uncle. "How does that happen?"

"I'll explain it all to you," Kevin interjected, walking toward us with his hands out to take Levi. "Mama needs to eat her breakfast and talk to your aunty and uncles, little man. Let's get some shoes on your feet and I'll explain everything about rainbows."

Levi clapped his hands together, eagerly nodding his head as Kevin took him from Liam.

When the two left the room, I finally sat down, taking my plate and filling my fork with eggs. "I would've made you some, Li, but I thought you were arriving around lunch."

He shrugged, his blond spiky hair glowing in the morning sun from the open windows. "I had something to eat on the way here," he informed me, and I nodded, chewing my food. "You okay, Dosie? You look stressed."

Heze nodded, leaning back into his chair. "I noticed that too. Have you been sleeping and eating?"

"We know taking care of Levi can get tiring for you," Lia softly said. "If you and Kev need a break for a few hours, then you know the three of us are happy to watch him."

I placed down my fork, sending them a small smile. "I'm eating and getting enough sleep. Plus, Levi is getting better at stopping himself from throwing a tantrum now." By looking at their faces, I knew they weren't convinced one bit. I sighed, dropping my head back against the chair. "I'll see Xaden tomorrow."

"How the fuck did I forget that?" Lia breathed, slapping a hand to her forehead. "We should've faked our deaths like you suggested."

"Faked your—when the fuck was this suggested?" Liam stumbled over his words, looking at us with wide eyes.

Heze waved him off, focusing on only me. "Are you okay?" he genuinely asked me, not a note of amusement on his face like there usually was.

Under his intense gaze, I straightened. Gods, sometimes I swore he could see right through me. "What do you think?" I deadpanned and the three of them shared a quick glance. "The last time I saw Riorson, he promised nothing could keep up apart, and yet, he hasn't visited once since he bonded with a dragon and started rising the ranks in that damn college. Oh, and there's also the little fact that he has a son he doesn't even know about!"

Lia cringed. "I'm sensing some passive-aggressive energy in your tone."

I slowly turned my head toward her and she shrunk in her chair. "No shit, Lia."

"Will you tell him?" Liam questioned, sitting down beside me as I faced back to him, furrowing my brows. "Riorson," he clarified. "Will you tell him about Levi?"

Shit. I hadn't really thought about that part yet.

Obviously, Xaden deserved to know he had a son—hell, he deserved to know four years ago but it wasn't like I could just send him a letter with that news. He was Fen Riorson's son. Without a doubt, his letters would've been opened and read before he even knew of them.

And Heze could've told him, but the two of them had already beaten the shit out of each other on Heze's first day in the quadrant and I didn't want to risk that again...or risk Xaden getting himself killed to try and get here before he even had a dragon. Or being followed to Levi. Or being spied on because it was a known fact that we marked ones were always being kept an eye on. 

There were just too many risks on the line when it came to telling Xaden and at the end of the day, he left. Yes, he didn't and still didn't know about Levi...but if he could ghost me and Liam, then who was to say he wouldn't do the same to Levi who deserved the world? 

I could never put my boy through the pain of a father leaving.

I refused it.

"We'll see," I finally answered, shrugging my shoulders. "I'm not about to bring Xaden into my son's life just to leave at the knowledge he even exists. Levi doesn't deserve that, ever. If Riorson isn't actually this heartless dick, as Heze has described many times, then I'll tell him of his son. But if he's someone who doesn't deserve to even know my son, then he won't."

[sweet-seishu]

i told you not to come back

baji keisuke x reader (past), seishu inui x reader (present)

warnings: angst, fluff if u squint, i kinda made baji an ass, bad writing and editing.

a/n: when i tell you that this has been in my drafts for MONTHS, time for me to clean them out. this is honestly really bad but oh well

Five years.

Five years since Baji Keisuke left you crying at your door.

You stood at your door, staring wide eyed at Baji. "What did you just say?"

"I think we need to break up." He said, looking into your eyes.

"Wha- why?" You asked. The promise ring he had given you felt like it was starting to burn.

"I have an opportunity for a job, and I want to take it." He told you. "Long distance won't work for us."

"Can't I come with you? We've been together for 6 years Baji, don't you think it's time we-"

"I think this will be a good opportunity for us to branch out, maybe meet new people." He completely cut you off, anger starting to flood your body.

"Meet new people-" You asked. "Baji what the fuck."

"We've been together since we were 15, only ever knowing how to be with eachother y/n. Don't you wanna try new things?" He asked.

"Why the fuck would I want that when I have you!? What was this stupid ring for then?!" You yelled, flashing the promise ring he gave you in his face.

"Y/n, just try to understand what I'm trying to say. I do lo-"

"Oh fuck you." You scoffed taking the ring off. "Don't worry I get it. So here, take this meaningless piece of shit metal, and go."

"I love you, you know that." Baji pleaded, the ring weighing down his hand. "I don't want it to end like this."

"You did this Baji!" You yelled. "You're throwing away 6 years, you, not me. So go. You obviously didn’t love me as much as I thought you did."

Baji looked down to his feet, wanting to say something, but instead he started walking away as you went to shut your front door.

"Baji." You said, making him pause. He looked back to you, with hope in his eyes. Hope that you wouldn't hate him forever. "Do me a favor."

"Anything." He said quickly.

"Don't come back." You spat before letting the door click shut. You slid down, the tears you were holding back finally falling from your eyes.

You could hardly believe that was five years ago. Hell you could barely believe you were even thinking about it.

You were now 26 nearing 27, you were engaged, working as a veterinarian. You had done good for yourself, you were actually happy.

What you weren't happy about in this momennt however was the fact that you were getting ready for a little get together at Mikey’s. Apparently everyone was back in town, and he made it mandatory for you all to be there.

It was casual, nothing fancy, just some drinks with good friends. But you still dreaded it.

Since you knew he was going to be there. You had heard from Hina that Baji was back in town, and you did all you could to not see him.

But no god was on your side for this.

"Babe, you almost ready?" You heard your fiance call. His footsteps were making his way toward you as you sat on the bed, questioning whether or not you really need to go.

"Do we have to go?" You looked up, your fiance dressed in jeans and a black shirt and his blonde hair was left down, covering some of the scar that covered his left eye.

"Come on it won't be that bad." He told you as he walked up to you, cradling your face in his hands. "You know Mikey would be upset if we didn't show."

You wrapped your arms around him, letting your face rest on his stomach while he moved to run his fingers through your hair.

"But he's going to be there." You groaned. "I don't want to see him seishu...."

"Hey, it will be okay. You have me, and of course everyone else will be there, you won't even need to talk to him." Inui assured you. "It's been a long time since you guys broke it off, it's nothing to worry about I promise."

You looked up at him with a pout making him chuckle. He looked at you softly before attaching his lips to yours in a sweet kiss.

"Can't we just stay here? Have our own fun..." You said softly, going to play with the hem of his jeans.

Inui chuckled, gently moving your hand away. "Nice try love, but no."

You groaned again, getting off the bed, your hand in Inui's as you made your way out of your apartment.

You could do this, it would be fine.

•••••

As you walked into Mikey's place you couldn't help but smile. It was actually nice to see everyone together.

And you didn't see Baji, which was a plus.

"Well if it isn't y/n!" You heard Mikey yell. "Finally showing up to a gathering!"

"Shut it!" You laughed, making your way over to the kitchen.

Inui grabbed you both a beer before you both went to sit, finding a spot beside Chifuyu and Kazutora. You let Inui sit first before you sat on his lap, his arm going around you to hold you closer.

Mikey and Takemitchi came over to where you both sat. Mikey gave you a pat on the head before starting a conversation with Inui and Takemitchi.

"Well we haven't seen you in forever." Chifuyu smiled.

"No kidding, where have you been?" Kazutora asked. "We miss you yenno."

Your heart sunk a little. Chifuyu and Kazutora were some of your closest friends, and you hadn't seen or talked to them in a really long time.

But that was only because you didn't want to hear about Baji.

"I'm sorry guys, finishing school, wedding planning, helping Inui with the shop from time to time.. I just got busy." You told them, a sad smile on your face.

"Hey it's okay!" Chifuyu smiled. "We're not mad."

"Just stop being a stranger." Kazutora chuckled.

"Okay." You told them, clinking your beer bottle against theirs. "Now tell me what's been going on with you guys."

They were telling you about their petshop they owned together, telling you about it's success, which had you smiling brightly. You were happy to hear that that were doing so well.

You were so engrossed in the conversation you didn't even notice the door open, but the minute you heard his voice you stiffened, Inui tightening his hold on you.

"You okay y/n?" Kazutora asked.

"I'm okay." You smiled. "Baby, I'm going to the kitchen for another drink, you need one?"

"Im okay right now, but do you want me to go with you?"

You smiled at your fiance, leaning down to peck his lips. "I'm okay, he walked in the other direction to go talk to pah." You whispered.

Inui nodded, pecking your lips one more time before you stood up, informing all the boys you would be right back.

You walked to the kitchen, saying hi to everyone on the way. As you walked to the fridge you kept an eye out, hoping Baji wouldn't see you.

But again, no god seemed to be on your side.

When you closed the fridge and turned around, he was right there, staring down at you.

He cut his hair shorter, and his facial features were more defined. He even looked more muscular.

You had to admit, he did look good, but it change the fact that you didn't want to see him.

"Y/n, hey." He said after a bit. You only scoffed, walking away.

You needed to get out of there. You needed air as you felt your heart race and body get warm.

You made your way to Inui, who had moved to talk with Draken. He looked at you when he felt your hand on his arm, and he could immediately tell that something was wrong, feeling your hand shake slightly while you held his wrist.

"You okay?" He asked softly, nothing but concern for you in his eyes.

"I'm just going to go outside for a minute." You told him. "I'll be right back okay?"

He only nodded, kissing your forehead softly before he let you go. His fists clenched at his sides when he saw Baji follow you out, but he knew you could handle it.

You heard his footsteps behind you, you knew this would happen.

That's why you didn't want to come in the first place.

"Y/n can we please just talk?" Baji asked, placing his hand on your shoulder making you jerk away from him.

"I have nothing to say to you Baji." You told him.

"Then can you at least listen?"

"Why should I?" You asked. "I really don't want to hear anything you have to say." You began to make your way back into the house, not wanting to be around him before his words stopped you.

"I left because I was scared okay?"

"Excuse me?" You asked.

"I was scared, scared of the future, scared of moving forward with you."

You just stood there, staring at him. "What the hell are you on about Baji?"

"I didn't-" Baji took a breath. "I didn't think I was ready, we were 21, you were still in school, part of me felt like we were still 15 year old kids who just confessed. Getting that job offer, I wanted you to come with me, I really did, but fuck I just couldn't do it."

"So, instead of talking to me about it, you just broke up with me?" You asked. "Just decided to fuck off and leave?"

"I was an idiot. I know I hurt yo-"

"Hurt me?" You scoffed. "Baji you completely shattered me."

Baji didn't know what to say, so you continued.

"Do you know how many nights I spent crying over you? Baji I could barely leave my own apartment cause I was so depressed. I felt like nothing mattered, I felt so worthless, like I didn't matter to anyone. I couldn't even really talk to anyone because I knew they would talk about you."

"I- y/n I'm so sorry I didn't-"

"It took me a long time to heal, and then you come back, and all this anxiety just completely resurfaces." You told him. "Why did you come back?"

"I came back for you. I know it's been a long time, and I know I don't deserve it, but if you would just let me show you-"

"I'm getting married in 2 months Baji." You said, making his heart sink. "Inui and I, we're happy."

"Inui?" He asked in disbelief.

He knew you two were always close friends, but he never knew it would come to this.

"Yes Inui. The only person I actually would talk to, the one who held me every night while I cried over you, the one who never left my side even though I kept telling him to. He's the one who pieced back together the heart that you shattered."

You nearly smiled to yourself, thinking about how you and inui got to where you were now. The nights he spent with you, letting you cry into his shirt as he softly rubbed up and down your back. The way he refused to leave you alone until he knew you would be okay, and the way you both looked into eachothers eyes one day, just knowing your relationship was so much more than just friendship.

Baji didn't have any words. You were engaged, to Inui.

This was news to him, and he couldn't help but wonder why no one told him.

Is this how you felt when he hurt you? Did your heart feel this heavy when he left? He felt like he couldn't breathe.

"Baji remember when I told you not to come back?" You asked.

He could only nod.

"I wish you would have listened."

And with that you walked back into the house, straight to Inui who immediately took you into his embrace. You felt all your anxiety melt away, letting his warmth bring you comfort.

Baji could only watch with a broken heart, the regret weighing down on him as he watched you smile at Inui.

He realized he would never make you smile like that again, never feel your arms around him again.

He realized that he lost you.

And he wouldn't get you back.

[scully-xo]

Quantum Files part 5 of 7

Fictober, part 5 / My version of fictober: No beta readers. Quick drafts. Incomplete, though outlined. Next chapter to follow in a few days. Tagging @today-in-fic @xffictober2022

AO3 Link

X-Files/Quantum Leap crossover, rated T, words 929/7934, Canon Divergence, Pining, Slow Burn (kind of)

Chapter: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4

***

Chapter 5

Another few weeks of leaping, though the excitement gave way under another pressure. The need for answers in his own life. Samantha. Had he given up too quickly? Had his parents? What did they know, that they didn’t tell him?

The dreams morphed. Dreams, not nightmares. Every time he woke, it felt like experiencing memories instead of random firing of neurons, making up a story in his head.

Samantha called to him for help. He was frozen, but it felt like it came from outside. Like someone was making him unable to help. A craggy-faced man who smoked cigarettes talked with his mother. His father said something about a decision and closed the door in his face. They had to be memories.

Was Samantha abducted by aliens?

And Scully… Scully was quieter. Rarely smiled. The shadows under her eyes deepened. Sometimes when she visited she just slept. Laid beside him, arm folded under her head, closed her eyes. She couldn’t lean on him, but he pretended she could. He sat just so, the light from her projection next to his. Wavelength and cell. He’d have to ask her about it one day, how it all worked.

“I got accepted to medical school,” she said suddenly.

“That’s… that’s great.” She wasn’t looking at him. Her voice was flat. Was it just exhaustion or was there something else underpinning her words? “Is that what you want?”

“Yeah. Ever since I was little.”

“Why physics, then, instead of biology?”

She turned, then, to look at him. He imagined her hand brushed against his leg, instead of moving through it. “I think… I didn’t want to understand just how the human body worked. I wanted to understand why.”

He nodded. The future. She’d be a doctor. A surgeon maybe, operating on people’s brains. Or exchanging hearts. Connecting the very things that made us who we are. And what did his future hold?

“You’ll be a great doctor, Scully.”

She smiled, but it faded. Shadows clouding her eyes. “Why?”

He tilted his head at her. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t even bring you back, Mulder, I–”

“What does that have to do with being a doctor?”

“If I can’t do this right, how can I hope to do the rest?”

He laid beside her, their faces inches apart. Yet miles and years, too. It would have to be enough, for now.

“You didn’t have all the details, Scully. I can’t imagine how complicated–”

“I don’t care that I didn’t know everything before this started. I’ve had weeks, months to sort it out. I should have solved it by now.”

“Hey.” He wanted to take her in his arms. Fold around her. But he remained where he was, refusing to break the illusion that she wasn’t really there. “Take it easy on yourself. Not even Singh or Gallagher knew this was going to happen.”

“You don’t understand. I have to do it. Everyone else—” Her eyes squeezed shut, face contorting into a grimace. “Mulder, I…” Sighing, she opened her eyes, blinking away her tears. “They’re shutting down the study.” She choked out the words, like it hurt to say them.

His heart dropped. Wasn’t it just a few weeks ago he thought he could do this forever? Now that it was a possibility, he couldn’t stand waiting another second. Ignoring his instinct to yell and scream, to shout to the sky at how unfair all of this was, he clenched his jaw and sat up.

“It’s just Mario and I now, Mulder.”

“They’re just giving up? After keeping all of this from you?”

“They’re-they’re getting heat from the administration. The experiment uses a lot of power and they want results. They’ve held them back so far, but… The others have left, as requested. We’ve been doing our best…”

“Scully.”

“We’ve only got time for a few more leaps, Mulder. I’m sorry.”

He bowed his head, tracing the pattern of the rug underneath him. Swirling orange circles in a field of blue. It reminded him of her hair. Her eyes. And, though her projection was exactly as he remembered, it was merely a good copy. A perfect one. But it wasn’t the real thing. 

He laid back down, moving as close as he could without breaking the illusion. “You’ll manage. You’ll get me back. I believe in you, even if you don’t.” He reached his hand out, splaying his fingers wide. She mimicked the gesture, the gap between their hands distorting the closer they got to each other. 

“I don’t want to leave,” she said. Her eyes shone, then they closed. A tear escaped, running sideways down her face. Though it fell, it would never reach the floor of the apartment that was his current home. 

He willed himself to stay calm, at least for her sake. “Stay a bit longer. You need to rest. Then we’ll think of something.”

She was wrestling with something, but eventually she gave in and nodded and closed her eyes. 

Did she struggle with the same thing as he did? The need for her to be close. To talk to her. They didn’t have much time left. Even though he pretended to hope for her sake, it would be fitting, for him, to lose the one person he felt he finally had a connection with. His person. Did it count as murder, if he leaped into someone and stayed there?

She slept for an hour. Then she was gone, once again. It was unfair, but it couldn’t be any other way.

She couldn’t save him while she was here.

[lottiethroughthelookingglass]

15x20 Coda

Can’t believe it’s the year of our Lord 2020 and I’m writing Supernatural fix it fics at 3am.... This truly is the bad place. Anyway here’s what happened immediately after the credits rolled on whatever that was...

“Sam and Dean stood, arms around each other looking out towards the vista. Heaven. Their heaven. United again, after everythi-“

“-Is he for real?”

“That’s what was saved on my computer. Supernatural – Final Draft.”

“This is bullshit.”

Becky shrugged, taking her laptop back from Sam as his face twitched uncomfortably. 

“Who did I even marry? Like, it wasn’t even Eileen?”

“I don’t know man but you named your kid after me. I’m holding you to that one.”

“I don’t even want kids. Our lives are crazy. Why would I do that to a kid?”

“Well I’m just glad Chuck didn’t get to go ahead with that one.” Becky said, sitting back down with her laptop, “I mean all of his drafts were honestly terrible but that one… I mean it didn’t even make sense considering your character arcs. Dean literally died like he thought he would at the beginning of the series and Sam, grows old with a random woman and doesn’t do anything with his life and not even mentioning Cas even though he was right there in heaven-“

Becky looked up to find Sam and Dean staring at her.

“I’m sorry, not that you guys are just characters or anything. But just, when I came back and I found that I was really worried you’d actually died in barn because you fell on a nail.”

“Yeah well I will be avoiding all barns from now on.”

Thunk. The three of them looked up to where Cas had knocked over a Funko Pop Sam.

“Sorry,” Cas readjusted Funko Sam so he could go back to back to fighting Funko Crowley.

There was an awkward moment of silence as the group processed the revelation of Chuck’s ending. Becky sipped her tea as Cas sat back down next to Dean. Dean looked over to him, their eyes met briefly and they shared a small smile.

“Did I never even ask about Cas?” Sam shook his head breaking the silence. “Like, you come back from fighting Billie and say he’s dead and I just… never question it?”

“Well, none of you seemed very upset about my death in that story.” He turned back to Dean, “You were far more concerned with the pie and the dog.”

“To be fair that was probably the only thing that felt right there – pie is more important.”

Cas rolled his eyes and picked up another biscuit from the tray Becky had brought them. Ever since becoming human again he’d picked up a real sweet tooth. Dean was silently waiting for when Sam would start having a go at him too about healthy diets.

Like hell I’m going because of a rusty nail in a barn, Dean thought, I’m getting killed by a heart attack and Cas’s gonna die of diabetes. Sammy’ll still get to outlive us both though.

“It’d be nice to think Jack is doing that with heaven though.” Sam said, “You know, rebuilding things, making it actually good.”

“I guess we’ll have to see when we get there. Which will not be soon, we fought for a bit of peace and I’m intending to actually enjoy mine.”

“We can just ask him next time he’s home.” Cas added.

Dean shook his head stifling a laugh with his hand, “Can you imagine if we’d made him God I mean- He’s three for crying out loud. He made me buy him a Marvellous Marvin the Talking Teddy three months ago.”

“You bought him that?”

“Wait so Jack didn’t become God?”

“God no, no he’s not God.” Dean plucked the biscuit Cas had just picked up out of his hand and started to eat it, “I mean he is up in heaven, but he’s just helping Michael get things running again with all the angels back from the Empty.”

“I’m confused, so you didn’t kill Chuck?”

“Noash fukind matr-“

“Chuck’s gone, but he’s not dead.” Sam interrupted the garbled explanation Dean was trying to make through a mouthful of cookie. “We found a way to umm- bind him I guess? In his own mind so he didn’t even know it was happening. Rowena and I did the spell and Dean set the trap.”

“I was still as useless as in Chuck’s version.” Cas clarified taking another biscuit to make up for his stolen one.

“Hey, if you hadn’t saved me from Billie we’d all have been toast. You were key.”

“Wait so Chuck’s not human and he’s not dead?”

“No- God I can’t believe he made himself human. I can’t believe we made him human and then said that was a punishment – sorry, no he’s kind of in a uhhh…”

“Alternate universe.” Sam added, “but one just for him. It’s more like an alternative plane of reality inside his own mind where he can write whatever stories he wants and think they’re real but they’re not. They can’t hurt anyone.”

“But he’s God so…. They might be real? He could be making them real.”

Sam twisted his mouth thinking, it was something he’d considered but didn’t want to dwell on.

“Well it’s not us.” Dean declared, “And honestly, if he makes another world with other Sams and Deans and Cas’s and Jacks then they’ll defeat him some other way. Like Inception, but with God!” He grinned at his reference even as the rest of the room ignored him.

Becky leant back in her armchair letting out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you guys are ok. You too Cas, he was really adamant about killing you off.”

“Dean was very adamant about bringing me back.” Cas looked over to Dean, a soft smile and look of adoration of his face.

Dean blushed, trying to cover it up with a cough. “Yeah well, I had some stuff to say.”

Becky grinned, taking a sip of her tea as Sam suddenly started to find the wallpaper very interesting.

“So, what are you guys going to do know?” Becky asked after the moment had become sufficiently awkward. “I mean no Chuck, no apocalypse, no world to save. Are you going to keep hunting, or…?”

Sam, Dean and Cas looked at each other.

“I don’t know,” Sam said. 

“Honestly, I’m thinking Chuck had it right with the pie festival.”

Becky and Sam laughed at that.

Cas took another biscuit

***

Dean closed the boot of the Impala with a soft thud. Becky had given each of them one of her dioramas she sold on Etsy. It was always a bit weird being reminded that their life was a story that some people liked to collect stuff from for fun but he had to admit the miniature scale replica of Baby she’d given him was awesome.

Sam stood at the door giving Becky a hug and thanking her for the lunch. She hadn’t quite explained to the rest of the family who these three strange large men were that were randomly joining them for lunch beyond “They’re just some Supernatural fans I know from the internet.” Her husband had spent the entire time struggling to believe that lie even moreso after Cas had slightly traumatised one of the kids with an in-depth description of the dangers of invasive wasps to honey bee colonies.

Dean wandered over to where Cas stood beside Sam and Becky.

“Thanks again for checking on us Becky.” Dean said, accepting the hug she gave him.

“Of course, I always knew you’d beat him but it’s good to know for sure.”

“Sure is.” Dean took a step back, “Well I guess we’ll be seeing you?”

“Next Supernatural convention?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Even if there’s a ghost?”

“You do know we’re not the only hunters in America.” 

Becky bit her lip.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she paused, “it’s just, this is exactly how I would have written it.”

Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, Dean brows knitted as Cas tilted his head.

“I don’t- not that you had to go through all that. Just that now you can actually take a break. Be normal, do your laundry-“

“-Sam and Dean have always done their laundry. That’s how they clean their clothes.” Cas piped up in confusion.

“-Be happy. Get to actually enjoy living in the world you saved. Have free will and be at peace.”

Dean chuckled, “I mean I’m personally good with never doing my laundry. But you’re right, it’s weird but good.”

“We’ll stay in touch Becky.” Sam said.

“I’ll hold you to that.”

They waved their goodbyes and walked back over to the Impala. Dean got in behind the wheel, Sam in shotgun and Cas in the back.

Turning the key the Impala revved to life. The radio began to sing, the opening chords to Kansas’s Carry on Wayward Song filling the car. 

Dean slammed the radio off.

“God, I think Chuck has forever ruined that song for me.”

Sam laughed, in the back Cas even let out a chuckle as he leant his head against the window ready for the long drive home.

It wasn’t their heaven. Not yet anyway. And that made it so much more.

[dlwritings]

Good | Bucky Barnes

masterlist found here

pairing - Bucky x reader word count - 2,751 warnings - language, very brief mentions of m/f sex and v fingering A/N - this has sat in my drafts for ages and I don’t know why I never posted it but as I was editing it I changed the ending it used to be happy and then I realized it worked better if it wasn’t so here’s a new way to break your heart if you want it | inspired by a post I saw on Tumblr so fucking long ago I don’t have the link anymore so the parts that aren’t mine are bolded and italicized

summary - (Y/N) and Bucky broke up, and Bucky battles with the memories of what was.

That’s how he’ll remember her.

Bucky was a hard man to get a read on, but (Y/N) loved trying to figure him out. She felt like that was what drew her to him. She liked puzzles and mysteries. It wasn’t that she had this desire to fix him. In her eyes, he wasn’t really broken. He was just a book that always kept her on her toes, turning each page to find out what comes next.

But books end. You reach the last page, the last word, and it’s all over. And you can read it again, but it’s not the same. The things that were said have been said, each adventure has been done, and going back to page one and starting all over again would just be living in the past. And if Bucky was anything, he was a man who could not live in the past.

Neither of them could really point out the straw that broke the camel’s back nor who was the camel and who placed the straw. There was screaming -so much screaming- from both parties, causing a crowd of two to form outside of Bucky’s bedroom. So there was screaming on one side of Bucky’s door, and ears pressed up to the other. Sam and Steve could only catch snippets of what was being said, because the couple was so often screaming over each other.

“-don’t understand you.”

“You try and fix every-”

“I’m sorry I’m not-”

“-thought it would be different.”

“You think you know-”

“Maybe we’re just-”

“-giving up.”

Steve and Sam sensed the end coming and retreated before they could get caught. Yes, they felt a little guilty for eavesdropping. Only a little.

(Steve always said it was Sam’s idea to listen in the first place.)

Her foot in his doorway, her fingers twisting in his sweater, frustration laced into every line of her face. How she left or, rather, how she refused to leave.

Bucky’s door flew open, but (Y/N) planted her feet in his room. He was holding back, not wanting to put his hands on her but wanting more than anything for her to leave. It wasn’t going to work. They weren’t going to work, and it was something she needed to accept.

If he still couldn’t fully open up to her after nine months, he knew he was a lost cause. Knew his heart wasn’t meant to be given to anybody. Knew he’d never be capable of normal love. Knew she deserved normal love.

(Y/N) grabbed the front of Bucky’s sweater, trying to push him backward and force the pair back into his bedroom. He was stronger and stood his ground. “James Buchanan Barnes!” she shouted. “Let me in!”

“I’m done talking about this!” Bucky said, his voice raising as well. “We’re done talking about this. Quit making this so goddamn difficult! God, you make everything so fucking difficult!”

How much of a fighter she was, how stubborn, how much she hated saying goodbye.

(Y/N)’s hard head was one of the things that attracted Bucky to her. He respected her unwillingness to give up or back down. Who would’ve thought it would apply still during their relationship’s demise?

And he knew she hated saying goodbye- to things, to people, to places. He should’ve known it would apply to them too.

Before missions he went on without her, she wouldn’t leave his side for an entire day. She didn’t want to let him go. Didn’t want to say goodbye for now in case it was really goodbye forever.

This goodbye was hard because it was goodbye, but I’ll be seeing you. Because they lived together and worked together and ate together and breathed the same goddamn air. Having the same superhero job and living in the same place meant being together ‘til death do them part, whether they wanted it or not. How could a goodbye that didn’t really feel like goodbye hurt more than every other time they spoke the word?

Bucky pushed (Y/N) away, closed the door in her face, and forced himself to stick to his gut. Not to back down on his decision. He made the choice for a reason, and he was stubborn too. He would not cave to the angry tears in her eyes and the crack of her voice when she yelled. He would not cave.

The pointless arguments and getting worked up over nothing, of making up just to let things fall apart again.

They fought a lot. All the time. Over dumb things. Over (Y/N) not giving Bucky enough space. Over Bucky backing away from physical touch. Over her always wanting dates. Over him never wanting to go out. Over her sparring with Sam. Over him getting stupidly jealous. Over her inability to see her greatness. Over his inability to see his.

But they always made up. And when they made up, it was good. It was so good. They would hide away in his bedroom (or hers- usually his) for the night, lips separating from each other’s only so he could leave kisses across her body while she let out the prettiest moans he’d ever heard. Their make-up sex wasn’t angry or rough. Bucky liked to be gentle though hell would freeze over before he told anyone that. He liked worshiping her and her body, making her feel good to make up for the times he made her feel bad. He would hover over her, his hips snapping against hers with every smooth thrust. He’d let her hold his metal hand (He found it reassuring that she wasn’t disgusted by it.) while his other would brush hair from her face or grip her hip or pinch her nipple or rub slow circles on her clit until she came undone under him, squeezing his cock so good that he’d follow right after.

But that wasn’t what he wanted to think about, because that was a good thing. So he thought about how each make-up was just a precursor to another fight. Because there was always another fight. It was like standing in the eye of a hurricane. For a moment, it would all be calm and okay and they’d be able to breathe, but the storm would come again and the cycle would continue.

This is not what they were. This is what he wants to remember because he wants to convince himself that he made the right decisions.

About two months passed, and Bucky saw that (Y/N) was happy. He always knew he was bad for her, but he hated to see her reap the benefits of their breakup while he, however, felt miserable. In his head, he was always thinking of the bad parts of their relationship, just to remind himself that breaking up with her was the right choice. He would look at her and see her smile like it was proof he had done the right thing. She was better and happier and safer and-

This is how he should remember her.

Dwelling on all the terrible thoughts made Bucky so sad all the time. But he didn’t want to grant himself the luxury of remembering the good things, because with that luxury came a different kind of pain: regret.

He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Think about the bad things? Assure himself that he made the right choice but sulk in negativity.

Think about the good things? Realize he made a terrible mistake but smile at the good times. The good times were so good.

Her foot on the gas, hair dancing in the wind, the sun drawing patterns on her face.

On nice, warm, summer days, (Y/N) and Bucky liked to go for drives. To nowhere in particular, just down country roads for a few hours. She’d wear her hair down and open the windows all the way. The breeze would blow through her locks, and the sun would cast shadows across her face. And she would laugh. God she would laugh. At everything. At the way her hair got tangled in the bridge of her sunglasses. At the way Bucky’s nose would crinkle when a song he didn’t like played on her phone. At the way a squirrel would hurry across the street before they came by. At the way Bucky would playfully scold her as she took both hands off the steering wheel. At everything. Because she was so happy on those days. And so was he. And they were so in love.

Her face turned away from him so she wouldn’t catch his eye and surrender to fits of laughter.

Sometimes, they just couldn’t take Steve seriously. They’d have team meetings, and Steve would be in one of those moods where it was all business. But (Y/N) and Bucky were not all business. In fact, 99% of the time they were no business because, god Steve could just be so ridiculous and wasn’t it funny? When Steve was in those moods, Bucky and (Y/N) were not supposed to laugh. No one was supposed to laugh. Hell, some people didn’t even smile. Serious Steve could be seriously intimidating. To some people. Not to (Y/N) and Bucky. With all the stories Bucky told (Y/N) of his best friend, how could she ever take him seriously? Try as he might to be a tough hard-ass, he’d always be that scrawny kid from Brooklyn. And (Y/N) could not take him seriously, especially when he was trying so hard. And (Y/N) knew if she looked at Bucky, she’d lose it. It was like she could feel the grin on his face. Because of course he was grinning, because there was Steve playing all tough and there was (Y/N) looking absolutely adorable as she bit her lip so she wouldn’t laugh. And he was trying not to laugh too. At Steve and at (Y/N). And they were so in love.

With red wine stained lips, with chocolate on her nose, with fingers in his hair.

Sometimes their dates were especially romantic. They’d go to hotels across the world just to get away from New York. He loved Italy, she Paris, but they were both content anywhere as long as they were together. No matter where they were, their nights would end the same: wrapped up in bed in their underwear, drinking room service ordered wine and eating cheap chocolate. They both loved red wine, and between them would drink almost two bottles. Bucky couldn’t get drunk, but she was tipsy after a glass and a half. And Bucky just thought she was so pretty, with her flushed cheeks and glossy eyes and red lips and how carelessly she would eat when she was intoxicated.

Chocolate would hide in the corners of her smile and would somehow end up on her nose. He’d lick wipe it away, and she’d press her lips to his. She’d straddle his hips, bold from the wine, and thread her fingers in his hair. If he had it in a bun or ponytail, she would tug it out of its band and pull her fingers through it. Bucky loved when she pulled his hair though hell would freeze over before he told anyone that. She would grind slowly against him, her breaths already coming out as little pants. He’d push her panties to the side and run two fingers across her slit -most of the time she’d already be soaking, so easily aroused when she was tipsy- and slide two fingers into her. She’d moan against his lips and ride his hand, coming undone too quickly for her taste. Not that it mattered. They’d spend the rest of the night making love to each other until she couldn’t take anymore. Bucky had endless stamina. And they were so in love.

That was how he should remember them: how they were because there’s no shame in it.

(Y/N) could see the misery behind Bucky’s eyes. She saw it anytime she looked at him, and the team could see it too. It made everyone’s spirits drop. It was Steve and Wanda’s idea to do something. Ever the best friends. Per Wanda’s suggestion, Steve called for a mission that would include everyone but Bucky and (Y/N).

(This “mission” was to go get pizza and spend the night at Tony’s house to get away for a while, but Bucky and (Y/N) didn’t need to know that.)

Steve hoped it would force Bucky to tell (Y/N) how he felt. Wanda hoped it would give them a chance to patch things up, even if only a little. They were both aching for their best friends to be as happy as they were when they were together. Because despite the fighting, everyone knew they were happier together than apart, even if it only meant as friends. Anything had to be better than the awkward tension they were currently living through. (Y/N) challenged Bucky. Not a lot of people did that. Bucky kept (Y/N) on her toes. She thrived off that.

So it was the night the team was gone. (Y/N) stayed in her room all day. Bucky stayed in his. But then he got hungry at the same time that she wanted tea, so they were in the kitchen. Together. Alone. Her throat was burning with words she didn’t know how to say, and his hands were itching at his side to reach out for her- to hold her. They spoke at the same time.

“How have you-” said Bucky.

“How’ve things-” said (Y/N).

They both stopped, eyes fixed on the other. (Y/N) laughed softly, and Bucky cracked a smile. “How are you?” (Y/N) asked, bringing her mug of tea to her lips.

“Fine,” Bucky said.

Open up, his heart screamed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and forced himself to look at her. “Not fine.” (Y/N)’s interest was peaked.

“No?”

How was he supposed to say this?

“I’m sorry.”

That was a good start, he supposed.

(Y/N) stared at him, her hands gripping her mug tighter while keeping it close to her face. He took her silence as a chance to continue.

“I think we can both see that you’re-” He paused, trying to give her a sincere smile. “You’re really happy.”

“Bucky-”

“You don’t have to lie,” he said gently. “I know you’ve gone on a couple dates with that guy from IT.” Her expression dropped and she averted her eyes in embarrassment. “It’s okay,” he said. “Honestly, it, it feels pretty good to know I was right for once.” She managed a soft smile, though it didn’t meet her eyes. “I was holding you back,” he said. “I wasn’t who you needed, and that’s okay.” He paused and let out a sigh. “But I do miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she said, feeling tears pooling in her eyes. Hearing him speak so honestly and so vulnerably was a foreign experience.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry too,” she whispered back. “I wish-” She cleared her throat when her voice cracked. “You know I wished it was you and me in the end, don’t you? I wanted that so badly.”

“I know,” he said. “So did I. But I guess-” He shrugged and took a shaky breath. “I guess some people just aren’t meant to be forever.”

She shrugged back. “I guess not.”

“That doesn’t mean we weren’t good sometimes,” he said.

“No,” she agreed.

“Because we were so good,” he said. She could hear the ache in his voice, and it made a tear roll down her cheek.

“So good,” she repeated. He reached forward and wiped her tear away with his metal hand. She closed her eyes at his touch, and he pulled away before it could become too intimate. “Are you okay?” she asked him.

He gave a pained smile. “No,” he said, “but I will be.”

And there was nothing she could say to make that better.

So without another word, she stood on her tip-toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, lingering for probably a moment too long. When she pulled away, she gave him a soft smile, grabbed her tea, and retreated back to her room.

And he wasn’t okay, but he felt like he was getting there.

There’s nothing wrong with keeping something that used to be good close to his heart.

----- ----- ----- -----

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[junova]

.˚✦ ๋࣭ˑ ִֶָ 𓂃 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐬. 𝐫𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

my universe

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

notes: this one has been in my drafts....forever. never really liked it too much but fuck it. maybe i can redeem it in a part 2??? this is more of a prologue if anything. idk we'll see. happy reading!

pairing: modern!steve rogers x reader, former!bucky barnes x reader, bucky barnes x natasha romanoff

concept: bucky was all you'd ever cared about, wanting him more than anyone. until he comes along, showing what it actually means to love someone. welcome to heaven in hiding.

warnings: 18+, sexual content, jealous!reader, bucky being a dick, soft!steve, heavy angst, steve is a funny lil shit at the end

wc: 3.9k

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt unbearable to be here. Watching how fondly she still looked at him, after all this time, not missing a beat. It was suffocating, surrounding you by a sea of water and having no other option than to drown. Greedily, his love swallowing you up in your entirety.

He did really try to dodge her looks of longing but still, even now he felt the pull to her. It didn’t really matter how long they were absent from each others’ lives.

As you sat next to him, you could feel him slipping from your grasp. Far beyond your control, way out of your depth, he was falling. Deep down, you couldn’t really blame him. The pictures you’d seen of her did no justice, she was truly a vision. Much brighter than you would ever glow and it made you wonder if what he spoke just a few hours ago still held meaning.

Not to mention, she seemed to be as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside. Making you grow even more envious of her.

Sure, she had broken his heart but it wasn’t beyond forgiveness. She had simply put herself before the relationship and if you had been in her shoes you could imagine yourself doing the same. All she wanted was a better future for herself, at least it’s what he had told you.

Now sitting here you couldn’t stop thinking about how she looked at him with admiration and love laced in her eyes. Truly, if she still wanted him in her arms there was nothing stopping her.

Surely, not you. You two seemed to live on two different planes of beauty and hers was the kind you dream of having but only have a very little probability of obtaining. With her ruby hair and glossy lips, tempting nearly everyone around her to the way she carried herself and spoke to you like you were the only person she was invested in.

It wasn’t difficult to see why he spoke of her so much. You would, too.

You tried to enjoy the wonderfully prepared meal Pepper and Tony had made, well mainly Pepper. It was delicious, but your senses had gone bitter and it had nothing to do with the food.

You weren’t sure when you started to drift off, maybe it was when Bucky began looking at Natasha like she hung each and every constellation in the sky. Or maybe it’s when you heard her melodic laugh when Bucky delivered the punchline.

It was like Steve, Wanda, and Thor didn’t exist. The lovely couple in their own little bubble, speaking in a language only the two of them understood. Utterly and completely unaware of any and all of their surroundings.

“You okay?” Steve questioned, placing his hand on top of your hand, giving it a small squeeze. Discreetly and under the table away from prying eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I just need some air.” You weren’t sure what could remove the nothingness inside of you, but maybe some space would provide some comfort.

You felt like your heart had been ripped out right in front of you, again. He said he wouldn’t do it again, that he wanted to be with you, but all she had to do was come to town and he’d been chasing her just like he always did.

Excusing yourself you dipped out until you were out on the back patio. Alone to just think and mull over any little thing that should have tipped you off, but didn’t. You let it slide on, blinded by how much you thought you loved him.

You weren’t left in the peaceful night long, until Steve was joining you with two wine glasses in one hand and a bottle of red in the other.

“You looked like you could use a glass or two.” Steve gibed carefully. “I’m just using your sour mood as an excuse to escape from the party.” You were about to object when a full glass of wine was shoved into your grasp.

“I’m not in a sour mood. I’m just swell.” You spoke before taking a big swing of the drink, nearly emptying it’s contents, sending it barreling down your throat.

“Sure, honey. Just like the green monster isn’t oozing out of you.” You found yourself intentionally growling at him, just a little agitated of the truth he spoke.

The absolute audacity on this man seemed to never end. Whether it helped you or caused more misery than he intended.

“It certainly doesn’t help that she's so goddamn perfect. Was she fucking made in a lab? Jesus Christ.” You were jealous and if Steve already knew there was really no point in hiding it. It was written all over you, the longing look you were giving Bucky all night, desperately wanting to be the one he wanted.

“She’s not perfect, nobody is. Just better at hiding her faults than everybody else.” He said it like it was some known fact. Something you should’ve already known, but insecurities tended to eat you alive. Truthfully, it didn’t help that Bucky acted like Natasha walked on water in his hopeful, gleaming eyes. Stinging you like a bee piercing your soft, plush skin for the first time.

He really loved her. It didn’t matter how many times she messed up, what he felt was all the same — she was the one.

“Really? I don’t buy it. Name one.” Steve perched himself on his knees in front of you, his hands on the armrest of the chair you made yourself comfortable in. “Okay.”

“How about the fact that she loves Bucky just about more than anyone else but she’s too selfish to let him go? Then, for months she leads him on and promises she’ll come home but always leaves him heartbroken.” Steve let it flow all in one breath, as his body rested between your legs.

“Sounds gruesome.” You confessed because it hit a little close to home. “Yeah, it is and he has no right to do the same thing to an angel like you.”

You hated how he was right, truly hated it, but anyone with eyes could see how much Bucky dragged you through the mud. He had a good heart, but it just hadn’t been good to you.

Bucky’s intentions weren’t malicious and it didn’t seem like he was either but it didn’t take away from how much he continued to hurt you. All of the unintended consequences only affected you as he went on with his day.

Over and over, he continued to cause you pain and he didn’t even know it. Or he did and just neglected to acknowledge it. If he did, he’d actually have to deal with just how much he was actually hurting you.

It wasn’t like either one was particularly gunning for the latter, but Steve was. It wasn’t the first time Bucky had left you high and dry whenever the red head, beauty stepped foot into town. Although it was the first time you had a front row seat to the attention she commanded from him.

You both sat there in silence for the moment, taking in the starry night as he rested his cheek against your leg. He began running fingertips up and down your exposed calf, letting him soothe you.

“I’ll keep thinking I’ll be alright. That’ll get over him, but he just keeps pulling me back and jerking me around for his ride and I let him.” If anyone saw you besides Steve, you didn’t think you could handle it but you’re comfortable around him.

He’s continuously been there for you everytime Bucky pushed to the side for her. Always so sweet, so tender, comforting you in his warmth. Never once judging you, always taking the time time to just sit and listen to you.

“I don’t think it’s even about him anymore. I’m just chasing this unattainable moment, just so I fill this void in me. Maybe if he loves me I can love me, too.” Mumbling under your breath, hoping he didn’t hear you.

“Bubba.” You smiled for a second, as his voice dripped in concern. “You don’t need him or what little he can offer. Not when you can love yourself better than anyone else can.” He pulled himself up to his feet, picking you up from the chair until you were surrounded by just him.

“We love you. I love you, so stop listening to those nasty little thoughts, bubs. They’re far from the truth. You are truly amazing, incredibly beautiful, and deserve the absolute world.” With slight pressure from his index, he tilted your chin up, letting your eyes drown in his.

“Don’t expect anything less.” Steve breathed out, before testing the waters. He just held you there, caressing your back as you just sunk in his arms, allowing his warmth to ease your hurt. Just like he’d done so many times before.

Somehow, Steve seemed to know exactly what you need to hear. You didn’t know how he managed to be so wonderful all the time. Maybe you could just stay there forever with him shielding you from every single evil in the world out to get you.

“Can you take me somewhere? This is the last place I want to be.” Steve simply nodded before lacing your hand in his, before making your way back inside.

The moment the two of you stepped foot into the house, it was silent. Everyone looked at the two of you. Steve took notice of the Bucky’s bugged eyes at the joined hands of his two best friends, but knew better than to verbally acknowledge it.

It wasn’t something Steve and you hadn’t done, but never in the prying eyes of Bucky. Thor and Wanda had taken note of it a few times, but never spoke a word about it. Secretly, Wanda hoped it meant something for you, because she could see just how much Steve adored you.

He never spoke a word, so you remained clueless to a feeling he never felt like he had a right to speak on. No matter how strongly he felt, he knew if he confessed, it would do more damage than good.

You had become one of his closest friends in the past few years he’d known you and he wouldn’t jeopardize it for anything. Selfishly, he left you under Bucky’s radar because being your friend was far safer than risking the rejection he was sure would be sent his way.

He knew you were close to cutting Bucky off from your life completely, he just had to wait it out. Natasha being here tonight was the icing on the cake for Steve, because all he had to do was be here for in a way Bucky never could. Not when he was slicing through your heart every time his attention diverted from you to her.

Just because he was stuck in a past love instead of the future and Steve would fully take advantage of it — being there for you in any way you needed.

Regardless of everything, he wanted to — needed to. He couldn’t live with himself if he let you go through the hurt and heartache alone. Not when so many times you had seeked the comfort of him to lean on. Steve would never be one to say no to you.

“Are you leaving, doll?” The endearment Bucky intended to be sweet but left a sour taste in your mouth. More than that, you didn’t miss the way Natasha’s eyes widened slightly at the use of his pet name for you. The one she thought was only reserved for her.

Maybe if he held affection for you like he did earlier today, your heart would be filled to the brim, but he didn't. So, you weren’t. “Yeah, Steve’s going to take me home. I have an early morning tomorrow and I’ve already had a bit too much wine.” Bucky didn’t argue, nodding with a tight lipped smile.

Perhaps his indifference is what made you hurt even more. He didn’t care about anything, not even you with you so closely tangled with Steve. It didn’t have an effect on him because the woman sitting by his side, draped over him held more value than you ever could.

“You sure? I can make sure you get home safely.” Bucky pleaded, but before you could respond Steve did.

“I got it, Buck. I’ll make sure she gets home.” He looked like he wanted to say more but he decided to stay silent as he watched you walk out the door with Steve, hand and hand.

The drive home in the Uber was silent, Steve didn’t say a word, just the weight of his arm holding you close. He took note of how you refused to look at anything but the luminescence of the New York’s city lights captivating your vision.

Even if it hurt Bucky only chose you whenever Natasha wasn’t around you couldn’t help but focus on how hot and heated your body felt with Steve so close to you. Holding you so tightly like he was afraid you would let go.

Perhaps it was a bit shady of you to drape yourself over his childhood best friend whenever he rejected you, but now you were finding yourself finding solace in Steve in everything, like you used to with Bucky. He had become this safe place for you, where you wouldn’t be shamed for how you felt or what you were going through.

Even if he knew how much you were hurting from your own obliviousness to Bucky’s behavior, he always let you find solace in his strong, comforting arms. Always sturdy enough to hold the weight of your hurt and what he was carrying too. Just like tonight.

“He’s never going to love me the way I want him to — like the way he loves her.” It wasn’t a question any longer, it was a stone cold fact. Something you’d tried to ignore over the past year, especially.

Not wanting anything in this moment but him, you laid your head on his chest, his steady heartbeat giving you a sense of peace in the aftermath of your heartbreak. The crisp material of the white button up he was wearing shifted from the weight of you, he didn’t really mind.

“I think it’s time for me to let go of this image I have of him, one he can never live up to and accept him for who he is and where he’s at right now.” Steve nodded, still not saying a word, slipping farther and farther away from you as he let his thoughts consume him entirely.

It’d been happening a lot more lately. This. The close, excruciating intimacy between Steve and the woman he was in love with.

Over the past few months, anytime you were upset about something, you would show up at his doorsteps crashing into him as you wept. Always wanting to be close to him, snuggled up to his side, bleeding your heart out to him, something you hadn’t done with anyone.

Not even Bucky.

Then there was the one kiss on New Years’ Eve a few weeks ago which stayed imprinted on the forefront of his mind. He remembered when he woke up the following morning, he was holding you to his chest, the both of you bodies laced with one another.

He got up before you were there to consciously witness it, but it was all he thought about weeks after. Being that close awoke the need to be near you. It was already there, but now he knew how it felt to hold you in the comfort of his own bed.

It nearly killed him when you woke up, making your way down the stairs from his bedroom, wearing nothing but his boxers and the shirt he wore last night. Steve wasn’t drunk enough to completely forget the whole night, nothing had happened in his room last night. Seeing you, in here, in his apartment, made him think what his life could possibly be like with you here.

If he was ever to be so lucky.

As of yesterday, when you told him Bucky finally wanted to move forward with you, it broke him. Even if he kept his true feelings hidden, he felt you crush his heart with one fatale squeeze. Any particular hope he once had, was diminished into a fantasy far from reality.

The both of you were Steve’s best friends — he had to be happy for you.

Then, Natasha came to town. Storming through Bucky’s heart just like she’s always done. When Steve invited you to the dinner his best friend was trying to keep you from, he knew it could possibly be the last fatale blow to whatever string your relationship with Buck was. Maybe his, too.

Steve knew going after you could mean losing his really good friend, but he simply couldn’t stop himself. Not when you were a pure goddess ascending from above in all of your glory, capturing his heart in every single glance you threw his way. At this point, he didn’t care what it’d cost him.

As long as he had you, it would be worth it.

When the car pulled up to your street, you let your hand glide down his chest, resting on his lower abdomen. Not missing the way his body trembled under your touch, the thin material of his shirt doing nothing to protect him from you — not that he wanted to be anywhere but here.

As soon as those sinful words left your mouth, he knew he was done for.

Perhaps, if the both of you hadn’t been tipsy of the bottle of wine you shared, you wouldn’t feel the urge to invite him up, but he smelled too good and acted too perfect for any other consideration.

“Do you want to come inside, Stevie?” You purred watching the gears switch in his mind. Contemplating if he really should go through with it. Now that it was within his reach, he was becoming hesitant to grab it. You were drunk, he was drunk. Hence the uber and the both of your cars left behind in Tony and Pepper’s driveway.

“I don’t think it’s the best idea for me to go up there, bubs.” Instantly, you pouted. A deep frown etched on your beautiful face. “Why not? I think it would be a wonderful thing. Don’t you?” With one swift movement, you were cupping his crotch, making your intentions more than clear.

The grunt leaving Steve’s mouth was animalistic as he tried to exercise the very little restraint he was holding onto. It seemed to become increasingly difficult as you refused to move your hand away.

“I need you to take care of me and I’ll take care of you.” Finally releasing your grip on him, you exited out of the car and you didn’t have to look back to know he was falling you into the lobby of your apartment building.

After a silent elevator ride, with you tucked into his side you made the walk down the narrow hallway into your home, fidgeting to open the door with Steve’s hands caressing your sides. Carefully watching as you kicked off the painful heels, the bottom of your feet thankful, pulling you deeper into the apartment.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” You retreated, afraid someone else might turn you down, too. If Steve did, you wouldn’t be able to handle it. He’s been your person you can count on and now you couldn’t imagine your life without him.

Stopping your movement once you reached your bedroom, you were still waiting for his response. Meticulously, he reached for hand before twirling you around your back pressed against his front. Sighing, when his hand dragged up your spine, while the other hung on your waist with his hand pressed against your stomach.

Pushing the thin strap of your velvet dress, letting it fall off your shoulder. Soft, firm lips touching your soft skin, you couldn’t help but lean back into him. Tilting your head back, offering yourself up to him on a silver platter.

His touch felt like heaven and you didn’t think you’d ever want him to leave. Not when you always felt safe wrapped up in his large muscular arms. Never making you question if you felt wanted.

“Right now, my body wants you as badly as it ever has.” Steve confessed while his lips migrated towards your neck, giving you some much needed attention.

“Does it?” You questioned him, losing any other train of thought as let his other hand push the other strap off your shoulder, the slinky dress falling to floor pooling at your feet.

“It does, sweetheart, but it’ll have to wait.” Already pouting like the brat you were, ready to seduce him right into filling you up, just like you brought him here tonight for.

Dropping down to your level, Steve whispers in your ear, “Because when I fuck you just the way your pussy is aching for it won’t be when you’re drunk, princess.” Throwing gasoline on the fire he created, sharply he bit your earlobe, making you moan.

“I’ve thought about this so much, princess. At first, I thought I would take you from behind, but then I wouldn’t see those begging, doe-eyes itching for a release.” You were trembling for him. His filthy words flooding straight to your slick, crying for him already.

“Maybe you’d want to ride me, huh? Do you want to fuck yourself on my fat cock?” At this point, if it was anyone else, you’d be embarrassed if he found out just how wet you were. Your panties are completely ruined because of him.

“I want to ride you so bad, Stevie.” Maliciously, he laughed before giving your clothed pussy a rough slap, causing you to gasp out. Your nails digging themselves into his bicep as you reached for it.

“Well, if you had been a good girl, maybe I’d let you cum on my cock.” You turned around face to face, ready to bruise your knees for him in a heartbeat. In this space and time, you’ve never wanted anyone more.

Harshly, he gripped your chin as his thumb smoothed over your bottom lip, dragging it down so it plumped right back up. “Bucky will be here tomorrow morning, if not tonight. I took his precious little play thing home and he’s not gonna like that one bit.”

“He wants to have his cake and eat it, too. If you want to let him, by all means go right ahead. And if you don’t? You know where I live, princess.” Very much in contrast to the last few minutes, he sweetly kissed your cheek and headed out right back the door without so much as a second glance.

Leaving you with a hell of a lot to process.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

tagging: @tonystankschild | @andromedasstarship | @tinylumpiaa | @brattycherubwrites | @bval-1 | @kayteewritessteve |

[scvrllet]

Eternity

“What crueler punishment is there than love?”

PAIRING: Regulus Black x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Falling in-love was always scary, but falling in-love knowing there is an inevitable end is terrifying

WORD COUNT: 2.1k

WARNING(S): Mentions of death + brief mentions of grief, Immortal!Reader

AUTHORS NOTE: This has been sitting in my drafts for months ( back when i was an active hp writer and was primarily in said fandom) and finally decided to post it

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Immortality may seem like a blessing to those who desire it but forget the burden those cursed with it must carry.

How long have you been alive to watch the world around you evolve? Watch as one Dark Wizard rose and fell only for another to take their place? Watch as those you loved died, leaving you to grieve for all of eternity but yet some dare say that it’s a gift? The answer; far too long.

If anything, it’s more of a curse than a gift. A cruel way of punishing others but not just them but their family as well.

Old magic was dangerous and masters of those forces were not to be messed with. Your family had learnt that the hard way many years ago. An old witch, who one of your past ancestors had wrongly messed with, put a curse on your family. Any and every daughter born into the (Y/L/N) family would be cursed with immortality, paying their ancestors debt for all of eternity. Perhaps this is where the term ‘old soul’ had come from. You thought to yourself once. It humored you at the time but barely anymore. All you wanted was for your soul to be at rest but due to that witch’s magic, that would never happen.

When your parents welcomed you into the world you would be cursed to live in forever, a part of them had hoped that the curse would have somehow skipped a generation but when they noticed your lack of physical aging as you grew up, the only thing they could do was spend as much time with you as possible, your father especially. His time was running out but not yours. It never would.

You’ve lived through many decades and met several people, most of whom were starting to leave your mind, being replaced by the new people you were always meeting. Friends in your opinion, were easily replaceable. Whether it be betrayal or death that causes a rift in the friendship, there was always another willing to fill that spot. This being said, it didn’t mean you never loved them because you did. You spilled all your secrets and thoughts into them and held them as death took them away from you. Oh how their souls were fortunate enough to be able to rest.

You remember listening to your aunts and grandmother talking about their past lovers as a little girl. When one had finally passed, they’d give themselves some time to grieve before hopping into a new relationship, allowing the cycle to repeat itself. They would’ve expected for you to follow in their footsteps given the curse and all but were quite surprised when decades, maybe even centuries had passed, and you were still in-love with that boy from 1976.

You smiled as you recalled the day. It was the day you realized you were falling in-love for the first and possibly the only time in your life. For a moment, that moment specifically, you forgot about your curse and what would result from it.

It was the third of December. Snow fell onto the white ground as a cool breeze turned your faces red. You were both supposed to be in Herbology class at the time, not by the Black Lake throwing snowballs at each other but

With a bit of help from your magic, you had sent at least ten snowballs in his direction. You laughed as it hit him in the face and the moment of you letting your guard down allowed for him to throw one right back at you.

Your face was cold and wet as you wiped the snow off your face. Narrowing your eyes at him, you noticed a sparkle in his grey eyes before another snowball hit you in the face.

“Reg I swear to God I will murder you.” You threatened as you wiped the snow off your face. Anybody else would’ve been scared and immediately apologized but he knew you like the back of his hand.

“Is that so love?” He teased knowing that nickname was always able to crack your façade. Glaring daggers at him, you hoped he wouldn’t notice how your face got warmer but he saw the corners of your lip twitch upwards a bit and that was all he needed to continue teasing you.

Waving your wand, a pile of snowballs appeared beside you and before Regulus could even say anything, they were all sent flying in his direction one by one. He sighed in relief when the last of the snowballs had been fired at him before using his wand to dry himself off.

When he was finally dry, he looked up at you and smirked before grabbing your hand and pulling you towards the Black Lake. It was frozen but you were absolutely terrified of the ice cracking and falling into the cold water. Just thinking about it sent shivers down your spine as he walked closer to the frozen lake.

“Do you trust me?” He turned around to ask you, standing at the edge of the frozen lake. Had this been someone else, you would’ve broken free of their grasp and run back to your dorm but he was different. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt safe around him. It was an odd feeling.

Simply nodding, he smiled before carefully stepping onto the ice. He laughed as he felt your grip on his arm tightened as the two of you walked further on the ice.

“Regulus what are we doing?” You questioned as he continued to lead you away from the shore.

“Ice-skating, I think. I’ve overheard my brother talk about doing it with his friends and figured I’d give it a try.” He replied with a shrug.

You abruptly stopped in your steps and arched a brow at him as you asked: “You’re telling me that we’re currently ice-skating?”

Regulus cocked his head to the side slightly. “Are we doing it wrong?”

“Ice-skating Reg, it’s in the name. We need skates.” You replied and a look of realization dawned on him. He knew that it felt odd for muggles to do this sport with normal footwear but he just hadn’t realized what he was missing.

“I was wondering why we weren’t going as graceful.” He said under his breath, causing you to chuckle. “Well, right or wrong, I think we’ve had enough ice-skating for today. Come on you must be freezing.”

He grabbed your arm again and started walking back towards the shore. A mistake in this action though was that he didn’t give you enough time to react before he was pulling your arm. This resulted in you losing your balance and slipping on the ice but thankfully, his fast reflexes had you balanced on both feet as Regulus held you by the waist.

“Are you alright?” The playful teasing expression had now been replaced by a wide eyed look of concern as he moved his hands to rest on your shoulders as if to further steady you. He searched your eyes for any sign telling him that you weren’t okay. Thankfully, there were none and he sighed in relief and pulled you into his chest.

Far too intoxicated in his scent, you hadn’t realized that you were shivering until he pointed it out and began to cautiously head back inside. Lightly tugging on your jacket, the two of you got off the ice and back onto the solid ground. As you walked back you couldn’t help but question that feeling you felt whenever you were with him.

It was the feeling you felt when you were having a snowball fight with him. The feeling you felt when he laughed and his eyes would light up. It was the feeling you felt when you were around him and what you felt when he caught you on the ice and looked at you. The moment that happened just a few seconds ago replayed in your mind and you doubt that it’d ever stop. It made you feel warm and safe, mortal even.

You didn’t even realize you were back inside until you heard a voice call out from down the hallway in front of you.

“Mr Black and Ms (Y/L/N) aren’t you supposed to be in Herbology?” It was McGonagall. Shit.

Turning the opposite way, the two of you ran down the hall and turned the corner towards the Dungeons. Teacher or not, you both doubted she would enter the Slytherin’s Common Room.

“Blimey Black, if I wanted to warm up I would’ve rather set myself on fire.” You huffed as you tried to catch your breath. “And how are you not out of breath? I feel like I’m dying.” You had just run nearly halfway across the castle and Regulus wasn’t gasping for air like you who was hunched over the couch, quite dramatically as well you might add.

The boy in front of you rolled his eyes at your exaggeration before sitting down on one of the couches and patting the seat beside him, gesturing for you to sit down beside him. With a flick of his wand, a fire was lit in the fireplace allowing both light and warmth to fill the dark Common Room the Slytherin’s had. You always wondered why Salazar decided to place the Common Room in the Dungeons out of all places. A tower would’ve been much nicer, warmer even, but it seems as his blueprint for Common Rooms was different compared to the other founders.

As you sat down beside him, he pulled you closer towards him so that you were resting on his chest as his arms were wrapped protectively around you. “Better?” He asked and smiled and you hummed in response.

His fingers were tangled in your hair as he hummed a song. That combined with the sound of the fire crackling in front of you were enough to pull you to sleep. When you woke up the next morning you were still in the Slytherin Common Room but the fire was now out and there was a blanket on top of you. You were also laying on something that was most definitely not the couch since you could feel arms loosely wrapped around your stomach.

Sitting up you noticed that the sun was just starting to rise but that wasn’t what shocked you. It was the fact that you had fallen asleep on top of Regulus and that he stayed there until he too fell asleep. He could’ve just left you on the couch to go to sleep or ask one of your friends to take you to your dorm so why did he stay?

“(Y/N)?” You heard him mumble groggily. Whipping your head around you saw Regulus still very much asleep, or at least he looked like he was. His eyes were still closed and his black curly locks were a mess, something he wouldn’t have accepted if he was awake. He was always thought to look presentable at all times.

Shrugging off your previous thoughts you smiled down at him and intertwined your fingers with his. “I’m here Reg.”

He stirred a bit and his grip on your hand became firmer before light snores were heard from him.

“What are you doing to me?” You mumbled as you pushed a few strands of hair off his face. It was that same feeling. That warm feeling that just made you yearn to be with him, it was back. This time much stronger but back nonetheless.

It took you awhile but you did realize what he was doing to you: he was making you fall for him. You didn’t know if it was intentionally or not but what you did know was that it was working.

You were falling in love and it was absolutely terrifying.

Despite your curse and the known outcome, Regulus treasured every single second he was able to share with you. The relationship lasted two years, ending a few months after you both graduated from Hogwarts due to his discovery upon Voldemort. Aside from Kreacher, you were the only person who knew the truth about Regulus Black and what happened to him. Not even his brother or parents knew what had happened to him but that’s how it would stay. The world wouldn’t know about the boy who died trying to right his wrongs.

After his passing though, you couldn’t bring yourself to move on. It didn’t feel right and with all the pain that came with it you doubted you’d ever allow yourself to fall in-love again.

So as years went by and the world continued to move on, you were stuck on that boy from 1976.

[kreidewaltz]

skyblue + thorns + tsukishima <3 congrats sm on 200 luv ily

COTTAGECORE DREAM | T.K.

about. he knows you're exhausted from all the work you're doing. he decided to bring you to a flower field and he thought he might fall in love all over again.

word count. 1.6k

genre & warnings. fluff, timeskip, comedy, established relationship, mentions of overworking, teeny tiny suggestive.

author's note. i was abt to make this angst but changed the last minute >< sorry for getting to this vv late pls enjoy this bc he's done w all the angst we're giving him he says <3 not prfr as usual okay

“be careful, dumbass.” he expected you to frown at his choice of words, instead you give him a wide smile before doing dances in the middle of the flower field. he pushes his glasses up to his nose to distract himself since he hears the wild beating of his heart. a gasp leaves your lips when your hand touches the different kinds of flowers and you get enchanted when you look at them closely. the azaleas are your favorite because of the bright color it brings to the field and it blends in beautifully. when your boyfriend mentions you’re going here, the hitachi seaside park, it felt like the worries and problems stacking up in your life disappeared for a moment.

you grabbed your blue instax camera and took pictures of the flowers dancing with the wind and took a picture of your boyfriend under the bright sun. you move the polaroid for a few minutes before hiding it in your tote bag before running through the field and imagine as if you were on a music video. he shoved his hands in his pockets, watching you get exhilarated with a smile dancing on his lips. he trails behind you and glance at the tulips few meters from him. he thinks of picking it but he didn't want to cause worry in the field that's suppose to distract you from work. he recalls the trouble he's forced to go through with you since you became a little reckless but he has no regrets, he's done those things with you after all.

"kei! come here!" you wave your hands while he chuckles to himself before taking large strides towards you. you loop your arms together, walking around the field which looks amazing when you're in it. we should come here again, you noted. 

a part of you is relieved that he thought of going here with you to unwind from everything. you recall the time he carried you in bridal style and covered you with blankets, with that you learned that you have no one to blame but yourself. his preposition began when you keep doing that one thing he tells you not to—overworking then excuse it as a way to be productive.

-

he wasn’t supposed to find you like this.

he wasn’t supposed to see papers and pens scattered around your desk, the cup of coffee in your coaster that he never saw empty in the time he checked up on you. “kei, ten minutes!” you pleaded with a pout on your lips and look at him, your voice laced with desperation because you really needed to finish this email tonight or as your friend quotes, you’re damned. you rub your hands together and shut your eyes, hoping that he wouldn’t protest or flick you in the forehead. your boyfriend sighs in defeat before going back to your shared bedroom, a joyful aura surrounding your face when he didn’t react violently. 

your co-worker messaged you earlier asking about the client’s response about the presentation he did a few days prior. he spams you with messages asking why it is taking so long to hear about the response and while you’re typing, you remembered your conversation with him last friday. you were supposed to email the client and provide him basic information about the presentation and add the link so he can thoroughly look at it. for once, oikawa wasn’t the irresponsible one between the two of you and you swear he’s not going to let you forget about this. damn oikawa, you curse in your head before stretching your arms.

you shoot him a text saying i’ll send it tonight and add emoticons even though it contradicts on what you’re feeling right now. you went through your emails and drafted what you wanted to say, the link, and double checked if there are grammatical mistakes and whatnot. when you’re sending an email to a client without checking the message and the information, it lacks decency and poor time management, that’s what you tell yourself. 

luckily when you overwork you don’t do it for weeks but you force your work and deadlines on a day. when he heard you saying this, you hear his caring boyfriend scolding as you call it and flicks your forehead with a frown on his face but you got a glimpse of his lips twitching afterwards. while you’re mentally panicking on how to finish the email that reaches your standards, tsukishima is laying down, staring at the ceiling with his hand running on the (your) empty side of the bed, looking for your warmth. he misses your gentle touch when you draw miscellaneous shapes on his back.

he hopes you get yourself together and actually takes care of you but he doubts you’ll do that, you’re stubborn and prioritize work over yourself. he slowly sits up and grabs a pillow to put in between his legs before opening his phone, thinking of what to say that’ll get you out of your desk. he tries to remember an activity or a place that you’ve mentioned because he misses seeing you being happy without worrying about deadlines or your co-workers. after looking around the room he sees the tulips he gave a month ago, looking bright and healthy since you insisted on not letting the flowers die. ah i’ve got it she’ll like this, he thought of a place he knows you’ll enjoy and begins to search on his phone, knowing he’s got you wrapped around his finger.

-

“hey, c’mere for a second.” your boyfriend rests his hands around your shoulders while you hum, your eyes going back and forth to your laptop and the papers around your desk. he knows you wouldn’t budge so he propped his chin on your shoulder, wrapping his long arms around you. “don’t be a brat.” he whispers too close to your ear which makes you pause on typing and look away because now you’re only thinking about how close he is and the way his voice gets low. 

“consider this as your break, you dork.” he lightly flick your forehead before leading you to the room and the way his face turned to a serious one after locking the door raised suspicions in your head. he grabs the wooden stool and sat there while you’re on the edge of the bed, wanting to know his intentions for locking the two of you. “i’m thinking of going out tomorrow,” he started off gently, and right now he waits for your—

“what about my work?” 

“ah ah, stop talking about work, idiot.” he effectively shuts you up when he rests his finger above your lips and when your shoulders slump and let out a sigh, he knows he’s got your full attention. he pushes his glasses up to his nose to focus himself and clears his throat to continue. he’s getting distracted with the way you look adorable with lounge wear.

“we’ll go to the hitachi seaside park, to get your mind off work and stuff…” you couldn’t hide your enthusiasm and squeal repeatedly while moving your feet around the air. the fondness you have for him never decreases but it grew more and more, but you don’t mind at all. your first reaction was to jump at him and wrap your arms around him but seeing the stool he’s sitting on, you didn’t want to risk having injuries. he remembered, you thought while he looks to the side and act nonchalant about it, but the faint redness to his ears going to his neck failed his cover. you opted to grab the dinosaur plush sitting quietly on the bed and lightly hit him with it, convincing him to let loose. the two of you made eye contact and mouthed thanks and your eyes full of sincerity is more than enough for him. he holds your hand and gives it two squeezes, his way of saying no problem, i got you. 

-

and we ended up here. 

“babe, i know i’m great and i’m flattered but,” you couldn’t continue to talk as laughter bubbles up your chest and clutch your stomach to laugh out loud. he looks like a long stick a few meters away and you walk back to him, twirling so your dress can spin gracefully. he quickly looks at you when he realized what he did, one is stare at you for too long, and two he got caught. you bat your eyelashes to tease him while he curses under his breath. 

you take a quick glance at your bag to see if the polaroid showed the picture already and your mouth parted seeing the result. the picture looks ethereal, the left side too bright because of the sun, the colors of nature and your boyfriend tying everything together. after hiding it in your bag, you offer your hand. 

“let’s go! don’t leave me there.” a pout coming to your lips before intertwining your fingers together and walking around the field in silence. this is what he needed after the games he had, a day to indulge in whatever he wanted, what you wanted. earlier, you're on your favorite restaurant and got a box of desserts to enjoy when you got home. you’re pulling him where the narcissuses flowers are gathered. 

“mhm, hey give me your camera.” you hum to his question, completely focused on the narcissuses. he presses the button beside the camera and tries to find the angle he’s looking for, he also wears the strap to prevent it from falling. it’s his gift to you in the first place. he takes a few steps to the side and angles the camera to his chest and when he takes a look at it, he wants that scene imprinted on his memory forever. your hands almost cupping the white petals, and pretend to blow it and giggles slip from your lips, thinking you look hilarious. the sky behind you creates a happy yet calming atmosphere to the picture, and there’s one thing left to do—

click. 

[essaysbyciara]

It’s Been A Long Time | Nebraska Williams x Black!PlusSize Reader [Part 1/?]

Warnings: language, smut thoughts (my ministry!)

So this has been in my drafts for a *HOT MINUTE* but that photo of Trevante in high school triggered a release. If people dig where it could be going, I will add it to my list of stuff to finish and open up a taglist. I’ll try my best to do so, I promise! lol

“God, I played this album out…” Lil’ Wayne’s seminal album, The Carter, didn’t age at all. Back in 2004, Wayne was a secret about to bubble over to superstardom, just years shy of lollipops and Static Major (rest in peace). Wayne represented the teenage angst of your time, even though you toiled in the suburbs while he wrestled with the streets. But as “On My Own” damn near explodes your factory speakers, a high pitch ping from your phone pauses your trip down memory lane. 

Message from Sheena: Let’s catch up before the babies wake up. 

You hit the call button on your dash once you stop at a red light. 

“Girl, hey. You on your way to work?”

“Ain’t I always, Shi Shi? Damn near almost overslept. Thought I missed my flight.” 

Sheena, or Shi Shi, is the epitome of a best-friend-forever. You two met in Ms. Grayson’s civics class, 11th grade. On the first day of school, you rolled into third period wearing a Scream Tour II t-shirt and if you were to describe Sheena in that moment, jealous wasn’t even the word.  She stanned hard for Lil’ Bow Wow but her mom wouldn’t let her go to the concert because she got caught with a boy in her room. That boy is now the husband half-way responsible for the twin girls she’s hoping will give her some grace by sleeping a little bit longer. 

“Damn. You wanna gift some of that sleep to these twins, God mommy?”

“Only if you gift me some of those post-pregnancy boobs, Mommy Dearest,”

“Can’t do that. Jarell been having too much fun with those!” 

“Girl, eww. I don’t need to know all that.”

You kinda did. Sheena’s stories were always live, wild and uncut. And the only fireworks you’ve been adjacent to in months since you broke up with that lame stockbroker, Keith. You curve around the airport parking lot as Sheena starts digging deep into her latest soft-core episode with her husband since the six weeks ain’t up yet. In between interjections of how nasty Jarrell could be and watching planes taxi in the distance, you cruise through Instagram to take inventory of what your day might be like. 

Managing social media for the biggest sports publication in the country was not the fulfillment of a dream after high school because, shit,  social media didn’t exist when you were in high school. But it’s what has you just hours away from a flight to the NFL Combine in Indianapolis, sitting in a parking lot, listening to your BFF’s slow burn sexcapades. You break up the audio immersion experience once your timeline displays something else to ruminate over.

“Sheena! Shi -- shut up! I can’t believe - you remember Lisa from high school? She got married ...and it ain’t to Brasco.” 

“Whaaaa… you can finally stop making u-turns in the hallway and snag your man!”

You didn’t appreciate the lowly dig from your friend about Nebraska “Brasco” Williams, star running back, track champion and boy so fine he made both Omarion and J-Boog look like ogres. Your high school crush had you shook to your pubescent core; pretty teeth, deep skin tone and two tattoos before the age of eighteen. You’d see him in the student parking lot with the rest of the football team and you’d rush to your car as if it would go home without you. He was too hot to handle. You were beyond envious that Lisa could. 

“Lisa ain’t do too bad. Her man is crazy fine. I mean, not Brasco fine but still…” 

“Man,  he had high school going crazy. I wonder what happened to him after that fight? I should stalk him on Facebook while I pump.” You laugh so hard, the couple walking past your car stops their argument to stare at you. 

Your laughs break once you realize you might actually miss that flight. You relegate Shi Shi to kiss the twins for you and to send his Facebook profile if she can actually find it. You tried years ago and failed. 

“Aight, fave. I will.  Love you. Text me when you touch down in Indy.” 

As you weave through the terminal, your mind thinks back to the days at New Birth High School. While it brought you joy in a forever friend and the launching point for your forever career in sports journalism, it did bring you one of the most hurtful days of your life that took years to shake. 

It was the summer going into your senior year. Lisa’s sweet sixteen pool party. No way in Hell you thought you’d be there but your Mom and Lisa’s stepmom sat on the same deacon board at church and somehow thought you two were friends; Lisa paid you dust in those hallways. You fretted over every part of your outfit, especially the swim shoes you didn’t want but your Dad picked up at Sports Authority. But you were fretting the most over your swimsuit, a red one-piece with a deep open back. It was sexy for a 16-year-old, to be honest, but you secretly tried it on at the mall and fell in love with it -- especially how it made you feel. 

You fell in deep love with your body that day. The way the swimsuit clenched your waist, giving your almost-pear shape some definition you’d never seen before. Your hips sat wide, your breast placed taunt, just peeking through the sides, showing off a crescent shaped birthmark right below your collarbone. It was Jet Beauty of the Week-esque and it made you feel on top of the world. Something that society kept telling you a plus-size teenage girl was not to feel. You used the last of your paper route money to buy it and hid your secret weapon in the back of your closet until the day arrived. You were hoping to get some boy’s attention -- especially Brasco. But you’d take anybody’s glare if you could get it. 

You were in the clear once your Mom dropped you and Sheena both off at Lisa’s back gate. As you walked into the party, the sounds of the local hip-hop and R&B radio station blasted throughout her huge backyard. So much fun was had -- so much splash and dash -- that the faint sounds of “Knuck If You Buck” failed to erupt a party full of teenagers it was made for. The pool seemed tempting in 90-plus heat but most of the temptation came from the jacuzzi next to it. There inside sat Brasco, his lanky on-field wide receiver sidekick Kenny and Jarell, Sheena’s partner-in-bedroom-bust crime looking delicious in their highlighter-color swim trunks. You were still figuring out your body and the reactions conjured up from the sight of water droplets chasing down their backs confused you even more. But the heat of the sun -- and the heat from your body -- got too much to bear. That pool called your name. 

You stripped off your t-shirt and denim shorts, leaving your swim shoes back by the picnic table. They clashed. Your nerves splashed together like the water you couldn’t wait to feel, battering against your heart. Were you ready for all this attention? Amongst the rest of the classmates, you disappeared. You weren’t popular. People knew of you but didn’t know you, only associating you with Sheena by proxy of Jarell. “My Goodies” came on the radio, providing you a soundtrack and a sign from God. Before you could answer the call, Sheena jumped into the pool. You tossed your glasses on top of your clothes and did the same. 

The water felt golden. Sheena smacked your face with sheets of chlorinated goodness. Too much fun was had by all, even Lisa joined in the fun. Suddenly the entire football team did too except Brasco and Jarell, languishing on the edge of the jacuzzi because like most boys from their side of town, they didn’t know how to swim. Lisa saw her boo in isolation and tapped Sheena on the shoulder. 

“Hey, Shi Shi. Let’s get in the jacuzzi.” Sheena grabbed your hand to guide you out of the pool. You weren’t expecting to see your Mom at the other end. Sheena didn’t grab you to join her in the warm bubbles, she got you out at the angry-faced-behest of your mother. You both were going home. The party silenced and stares followed as everyone watched your walk-of-shame to grab your clothes. You got what you wanted in the worst way possible. 

Your unholy exodus commenced when Lisa’s mom called yours to report what she saw: this red bathing suit too revealing for a little girl to wear. It wasn’t the green ruffled mess-of-a-bathing-suit from last year. She claimed to witness stares and whispers and “boobs hanging out, butt all out.” Your mom got over there quicker than a church shout. She waited to scold you after she dropped off Sheena. 

It was a Sunday School scolding like no other. Tears pooled deep like the one you were just having fun in. You tossed the bathing suit into the trash bin. You were never going to see it again. 

The announcement of your flight breaks you out of your day nightmare. Grabbing the handle on your suitcase, you see a text with an attachment from Sheena. 

Girllllllllllll. I found Brasco and babyyyyyyyyyyy… 

You gasp. Time did a wonder on him in all the right ways. He packed on even more muscle, chiseling out the navy thermal dressing his upper body. Teeth still bright, Moonlight-bright. His Omarion-Pandemonium-era braids were gone, now donning a clean fade with perfect waves. His stance meant business, a lot of it risky. You bite your lower lip to mask the “damn!” urging a release from you, staring at his picture so intensely that you damn near walk into the stewardess checking your boarding pass. 

You couldn’t wait to get to your first-class seat. You needed a safe space to drown in your own splash waterfalls. You beg Sheena to send you his profile, looking to make some more of that mess and she obliges. Scrolling through his Facebook, you see nothing. You needed him to match your uncleanliness. Another text from Sheena breaks you out of your spell. 

Ain’t shit on here though. I can’t find an Instagram or anything. That’s where the dirt is at lol 

You put your social media skills to work. Ain’t an Instagram profile that you can’t find. Nebraska Williams brings up nothing. Such a unique name and nothing to show for it. 

Maybe Jarell can follow him, Shi. 

Jarell ain’t on this thing. He hates all this stuff. You want me to follow him? 

Girl, yes! I need more pictures! I’m trying to find his ‘gram and no diceeeeeee. Ughhhh. 

Damn the “no cell phone until after lift off” announcement. You then try “Brasco”, too many names -- rappers, really--  and a dog company to boot. “Brasco Williams” yields no results. You couldn’t wait what could be hours, days,  weeks, maybe never, for a response from Brasco to Sheena’s friend request. 

You pull up Google as a last ditch effort. The results bring up what only seems to be archives from your now-defunct city newspaper covering one of Nebraska’s record-setting games from 2005. You know to quit while you’re ahead until you see a Youtube video: “Nebraska Williams (RB) New Birth High School (MD). uploaded by Donyell Williams. You remember Donyell as this boy who played too damn much in Geometry class but right now, he’s Brasco’s cousin who's Instagram profile came up on the first search. Thank God his profile wasn’t private. You scroll back far enough to hit the jackpot. 

I found it! @donniebrascowill is his Instagram. 

Sheena was right about the dirt. His posts were bare but his stories carried enough. Enough shirtless, weightlifting, fresh-out-the-barbershop-got-to-show-you-the-fade dirt. You hit the follow button before the stewardess asked for your drink selection. 

End of Part I

[joheunsaram]

To Make A Power Couple - 02 (knj)

Chapter 2 - Pizza and Life Chats

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

previous | masterlist | next

Summary- Namjoon and Y/N go on their first date, and Namjoon is whipped.

word count- 5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- pg13 for now

genre- series, fluff, eventual smut, strangers2lovers

warnings- mentions of hangovers and panic attacks, tooth-rottingly fluffy

a.n- okay here’s the second part! I wrote this up fairly quickly (don’t expect this to be the norm!). This part I wanted to kind of address the stress of overworking as a young adult (GUILTY 🙋🏻‍♀️) so sorry if it gets a little serious at parts. I also wanted to switch it up so it’s from Namjoon’s perspective. I hope you enjoy it. SOFT JOON BEING A BIG OLD SOFTY.

Feedback much appreciated! 💕

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​, @sassyuniversitytacopeanut

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Namjoon woke up startled as his phone alarm rang. He was groggy and his splitting headache made him nauseous. “I’m never going to drink again”, he mumbled. He groaned as he got off the couch he had crashed on the night before, trying not to trip over Taehyung who seemed to be dozing happily on the floor as he made his way to his room. He hadn’t stayed at the dorms in a while, preferring the quiet solitary of his own apartment nowadays, and with his hangover in full swing he felt like he was walking through a stranger’s house.

Last month was hell. He had procrastinated on his songs and none of the vocal guides were even halfway done before the due date. Every time he tried to finish a song a new one would pop up in his head and he would start on that, leading to a hard drive full of files labelled “finish soon” and “draft”, and a notebook full of scratched out scribbles. It was like his brain had decided to abandon him, deciding it had had enough of his perpetual melancholy. He had felt drained and burnt out, a husk with no creative juices left. Luckily, Yoongi and a few of the producers had taken pity on his stressed out state and lent a hand so he had been able to finish the bare minimum three days ago - before the label pressured him further. He was never more grateful for a small break.

In all honesty, he needed a way to jumpstart his brain, and get out of the routine of home, practice, meetings, studio, home. Sometimes, he almost wished he didn’t have the success he had so he could go out and let loose a little - a club, a party, anything. But the last time he went somewhere like that he got swarmed and the police had to be involved. He couldn’t risk that, not after the trouble Big Hit went to threaten media outlets a year and a half ago, when he was caught with what they called a hickey, but was actually a stress rash.

As he brushed his teeth today, however, he smiled at the mirror. Last month may have been terrible, but last night was one of the best he’d had in the past year.

When he had heard Bang PD’s team talk about how they were attending the charity gala as he met them for notes on his songs, he was intrigued. He had read about this non-profit in the paper before. They seemed to be helping bridge the gap between people through communication and that spoke to him. So much so that he had scrolled through their website multiple times, reading testimonials and almost memorizing the mission statement. They wanted to help kids learn English for free so they could communicate globally. He really liked the idea. It was hard for him to learn the language as a kid and he knew that the only reason he became as fluent as he is from the tutors his parents paid for and his obsession with American television and music. Although he didn’t need the tutoring anymore, he did enjoy talking to the in-house tutor at the company, John, from time to time and improving his skills. The fact that this company wanted to add a John to every school in Korea starting from the rural areas, made Namjoon want to meet the man behind the movement. Little did he know, he’d be meeting the girl who’d shift his idea of the ideal.

He had never been more glad to have convinced his company to let him and the boys attend an event. He had initially suggested it as a way to break the mundane before their comeback practices started and network while supporting a cause he liked. Two days ago, he wouldn’t have guessed it would have been an actual fun night leading to him nursing a headache.

He spent the next hour reliving last night as he showered and caught up on the news. He also read the messages he sent last night over a hundred times and had butterflies each time. Wasn’t he too old for butterflies? He wanted to message you again but every time he tried, he ended up overthinking it. Everything sounded forced or cheesy, and it was worse than any writer’s block. He threw his phone on the bed in frustration watching it bounce and land on the floor, before he grabbed it and pocketed it. Hopping around to get rid of his nerves, he decided to take a break from rereading the thread he already had memorized and check in with everyone. If his hangover was this bad he couldn’t imagine theirs.

Making his way back to the living room he found Taehyung now sitting on the floor, sleep still very evident on his features as he yawned and groaned. On the couch next to him sat Yoongi, holding an iced americano and staring into space. The rest were missing but he could hear a blender annoyingly whizzing in the kitchen.

“How’re you guys feeling this morning?” He asked as he sat across from Yoongi.

“This is why I don’t drink. Why did no one stop me?” Taehyung whined as he rose from the floor to leave, massaging his head.

“We tried. You were very excited to try all the disgustingly sweet drinks the hot bartender was making for you.” Yoongi replied with a sigh. “How was your date, Namjoon? You glad I forced you to go to the bar to talk to her?” he snickered, sipping his coffee before exhaling loudly in contentment.

“Honestly, I owe you big time. She was… amazing. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone that comfortably in a while” Namjoon sighed wistfully.

“I’ll add cupid to my resume,” he deadpanned. “Is she tolerating you for another date?”

“Yeah. We’re getting dinner on Tuesday, but I want to message her now. Argh!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration. “What do I even say? ‘Hi I’m the guy who was too scared to kiss you all night so you had to do it for him, what’s your favourite colour?’” Namjoon was annoyed at himself. It’s bad enough that he was having writer’s block in his music, did he have to have it for something as simple as texting too? This was ridiculous!

“Or you could just ask her how’s her hangover today. Jeez! Do I have to draft each of your messages? Stop being a dumbass and text the person you like.” Yoongi scoffed, clearly over Namjoon’s sudden and uncharacteristic insecurities.

Namjoon gave a resigned sigh as he reached for his phone and wrote out exactly what Yoongi suggested. Hey, he was his hyung for a reason - he had a full 6 months of life experience on him.

Namjoon: Hey! Hope your hangover is not too bad today.

As soon as the message was sent, he started getting nervous. Tapping his foot incessantly while he stared at his phone, willing it to buzz, annoying Yoongi enough to leave him alone on the couch in the process.

Y/N: Hi to you too! I actually don’t get hangovers so I’m doing great lol. What about you?

Namjoon: What do you mean you don’t get hangovers?

Y/N: I don’t know. Can’t get dehydrated if you’re always dehydrated!

Namjoon: That… makes no sense. Do I need to start reminding you to drink water?

Y/N: Only if you’re better than this app on my phone…

Namjoon: I can guarantee you I’m better than any app on this planet.

Y/N: Wow. Big claims! We’ll have to put it to the test I suppose.

Y/N: You never told me how you’re feeling. Oh and how’s Taehyung? Is he okay?

Namjoon: He’s doing fine. Made a pact to never drink again and if i’m being honest, I’m going to join him. I am shocked that your head is not exploding as well.

The messages continued easily after that, filled with updates of each other’s activities, playful flirting and even photos of dinner. By the time Monday rolled around, you had been messaging each other constantly, with no end to the conversation in sight and the only long pauses being when you were both asleep or working. It seemed like you would never run out things to talk about. Namjoon hadn’t messaged someone this frequently since he got out of his last relationship. It felt nice to relay his mundane day to day events to someone and he found himself excited to hear about your mundane, like how you decided to mix two different types of bad coffee blends to make a shockingly worse one. He was surprised again at how fast he felt comfortable around you. It was even starting to scare him a little - he only knew you for three days and it felt like he had known you forever! What was this weird spell you had on him?

The conversation Monday, however, was fairly sparse, and Namjoon was eager to set up plans for the next day, so that night he decided to call you.

After the first three rings, he was overthinking his decision. Maybe it was too soon to call? Maybe you didn’t like talking on the phone? What if it went to voicemail? Would he have to leave a message? What would he say? His inner monologue was quickly halted at the sound of your voice.

“Hello, this is Y/N” you sounded distant, almost too formal. He felt nervous.

“Hi… uh… this is Namjoon. Is this a bad time?”

“Oh Namjoon! Sorry I didn’t check who called when I picked up!” Relief washed over him at the change of your tone. “Sorry one sec can you hold on.” he heard you say as your voice got mumbled. He waited while he heard you talk to someone about proposals and deadlines. Were you still at work? He checked his watch - it was 10 pm. He didn’t know whether to be impressed by your work ethic or worried that you were overworking.

“Hi sorry about that! How are you?” He relaxed at your airy tone and smiled.

“I’m good. Are you still at work?”

“Yeah it’s only like 7 so it’s no big deal. I usually leave around 8” Were you serious?

“Y/N… It’s 10:04…” He was shocked at how nonchalant you sounded, and suddenly he had his answer - he was worried, not impressed. He had known you for three days and already you were setting his caretaker alarm off. He wanted to scold you for being careless and overworking, like he’s used to doing for the boys, but he knew it was too soon. He doesn’t even know why he’s feeling that way all of a sudden and tried to suppress his protective instincts.

“No it’s not! It’s…” He could hear your voice going further away as he imagined you moving the phone in front of you to check the time. “Oh shit you’re right. What the hell? Okay sorry I’m gonna put you on hold again.” Before he could say anything he heard your voice again, distant again but loud. “Oh my god. Guys, it’s 10pm. Go home! Why did nobody tell me? No it doesn’t matter we can do that tomorrow. Please go home. Pack up now! You too Siwon, don’t worry I’ll go home after I get off the phone. See you!” He smiled at the sternness of your tone - it reminded him of a teacher dismissing class.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t realize I overworked my team. Had to send the troops home” you laughed and Namjoon felt his heart flutter.

“I don’t wanna keep you from going home. I can call you back once you get there,” he offered. He felt bad that you were staying in an empty office on his account.

“Oh don’t worry about it. It was a lie to get Siwon off my back. I’m probably gonna be here till like 1 or something. I still have to get this done” you said matter-of-factly, like it was the most normal thing in the world. He knew that tone fairly well, having used it multiple times himself when he locked himself in his studio, running on nothing but coffee and energy bars.

“Okay I know we’ve only just met and we have our first date tomorrow, but do you want some company?” He asked before he could stop himself. The line was silent for a bit, and he felt self conscious, scared that he had overstepped and driven you away. Before he could check his phone to see if you had hung up you spoke.

“It’d be pretty boring for you to watch me just type away. Are you sure? It’s pretty late.” He was sure his cheeks would hurt from how wide he smiled.

“It’s not a problem at all. I was going to work tonight too.” He wasn’t. “We can just work together. I’ll bring food. Did you eat yet?” his words tumbled over each other.

“How very college of you.” He could hear you giggling on the line. “Now that I think about it - I’m starving.”

“Okay text me the address, I’ll be there soon.”

He had never been this excited to pretend to work.

He spotted you as he walked through the doors of the 13th floor, pepperoni pizza in hand. You were sitting at a long desk near the middle of the room. He was surprised as he expected you in an office, but he found you typing away at your desktop. Your hair was tied up in a bun and you were dressed in an oversized beige t-shirt, eyebrows furrowed head bopping to the hip hop track playing through the speakers. You seemed to be in your own little world. He felt like he was spying on you as he leaned against the door watching but he also liked seeing how you acted when you thought no one was watching. He was about to announce his presence when the track changed to a Childish Gambino one and you whooped and started to rap along.

You were now fully head banging and rapping the verse at the top of your lungs. He would be impressed by your fairly good amateur skills if he didn’t find the entire scene so endearing. His heart was doing somersaults as he watched you now fully engrossed in the song, typing forgotten as you got up and started to pretend you were on stage, an imaginary mic in your hand asking haters if they “eatin’ though”. You looked so adorable that he couldn’t help but squeal a little “cute!”

That’s when you saw him, eyes wide. He felt a little bad when he saw how embarrassed you looked, immediately stopping and slapping a hand to your mouth before bursting out in nervous laughter. He could write a whole album with that laugh. Oh he was so whipped, he thought to himself as he made his way to you.

“You know you’re not half bad!” He exclaimed as he set the pizza on the table, pulling a chair next to yours and settling down.

“Do you think your fake compliments will save you from the fact that you were spying on me?” you asked, crossing your hands across your chest, pretending to scowl but failing to do so.

“First, real compliment. Second, would pizza save me?” He opened the box and proudly smiled, loving the way your eyes lit up as you reached for a slice.

“Yes it will!” you exclaimed as you took your first bite, lightly moaning at the taste. “But erase that memory from your brain please.”

“Nope. Never. It was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I’m going to save it forever” he said as he also started on his slice. You pouted up at him, cheeks puffed and it took all the self-control he had to not kiss it off your face. He hadn’t felt this way in so long, it was like you were his first crush. Trying to control his pulse, he asked “What are you working on so late?”

“Oh I have a proposal due for a meeting tomorrow at noon and I’m only halfway through it,” you frowned wistfully at the screen as if willing it to type on its own.

“Can I help?” He asked, knowing fully well that he couldn’t. He just had an overwhelming urge to make that frown disappear.

“You being here is help enough,” you smiled sincerely as you looked at him and he felt his heart explode, a blush creeping on his cheeks as he smiled bashfully. “What are you working on?”

“I have a few songs I have to finish the lyrics for. Been procrastinating” he rubbed the back of his neck as he pulled out the notebook from his back pocket.

“Can I help?” you echoed his question to which he echoed your response grinning. He wasn’t lying though. Even though he had planned to not really work, as the night progressed he found the change from his usual writing spot inspiring. Sitting next to you, the sound of the keyboard clicking was soothing leading to words pouring out of him. He filled pages as he stole glances at you concentrating on your proposal, tongue peeking from between your lips, still bobbing to the music which was now playing from your airpods instead of the speakers. He smiled at the sight, before focusing on his notebook.

After about an hour or so of hard work, he finished three songs that he had allotted himself the whole week to do. This was the most productive hour he had all month. Antsy for a break, he looked over at you and found you staring at him, a hand under your chin. As he met your gaze you smiled.

“You’re really hot when you concentrate. Has anyone ever told you that?” you commented. He was taken aback by your remark, heart fluttering at your smirking face. Not missing his chance and spurred on by the comment, he scooted closer in one sweep till your knees touched and you were face to face.

“You’re one to talk. I couldn’t stop looking at you this past hour.” Gazing into your eyes, he was amused to see your smirk disappear as it was now your turn to be shocked. He reached out and tucked a stray hair behind your ear letting his hand linger, enjoying the way you sighed as he did. “Can I make good on my promise now?” He whispered, his face centimeters away, looking at your lips. The way you bit your lower lip made him want to take you there and then. The desk looked big enough. Hell, even if it wasn’t he could make it work.

“Promise?” you whispered as he watched your eyes flutter to his lips.

“To kiss you first…” Too impatient to wait for your answer, he brought his lips to yours, relishing how soft they felt under his own. He was thrilled at you returning the kiss, deepening it as you grabbed the collar of his shirt to bring him closer just like you did after the party. He was beginning to think this was your signature move, and he’d be lying if he said it didn’t immensely turn him on. He moved his hand cupping your face to rest on your neck and he could feel your heartbeat mimicking his. He put his other hand around your waist pulling you closer, wanting to be as close to you as he could get. He traced his tongue over your lips, his head cloudy with endorphins as you opened your mouth inviting him in. He had never tasted something so euphoric, his tongue exploring yours in a rush.

He could feel you pushing forward as he leaned back and allowed you to straddle his lap, your legs on either side of the chair. As soon as you were on his lap, he pulled you closer, both arms around on your hips, your chest flushed with his. He kissed the side of your mouth as he made his way down your jaw to your neck. You smelt like vanilla mixed with a fresh flower garden, and he was sure this smell was better than any drug in the world. He could hear your breathy moans as he sucked where your neck met your collarbone, licking to soothe it before moving further. He wanted to taste all of you. Your hands were in his hair and each tug made him groan into you, making him harder. He could kiss you like this forever. He wanted to save this moment so he could come back to it and relive it. He traced his hands up and down your sides, moving under your shirt but remaining on your waist, enjoying the feel of your soft skin.

“Namjoon… Namjoon… slow down” he heard you say breathlessly as he felt a slight push. He looked up at you, your eyes half lidded and lusty as you grabbed his face and brought it to yours. You were sending him mixed signals, but he didn’t care as long as he could keep kissing you.

“We have to slow down or I’m going to want to fuck you right here.” You whined as you both came back up for air, but you kissed him again nevertheless. Hearing you say that made him want to do anything in his power to make that happen.

“I don’t mind, baby,” he said against your lips, kissing you with urgency, biting your lower lip and pulling it gently to elicit another moan from you. To his disappointment, you seemed to have better self-control than him as you pushed him back, both of you panting as you struggled to catch your breath. He moved his hand back to your hips tracing little circles, feeling comforted by you smoothing his hair you had pulled earlier.

“There are cameras here. I’d rather not make a sex tape on our first date.” You giggled as you pointed to the black sphere in the corner of the room. He had never hated the obsession buildings had for security more, but the crudeness of your comment made him laugh. He had almost forgotten this was your first date, it felt like he had kissed you a thousand times before. You tasted like the relief of an awning in the middle of a summer downpour.

“I think we need to cool down,” you say as you climb off of his lap. “Let’s go.”

He followed you as you led him to the little kitchenette near the end of the room, unable to resist the urge to wrap his hands around your waist in a back hug. He knew he was being too clingy for a first date, but the way you giggled and put your hands over his gave him assurance.

“Lemonade, coke, or water,” you asked as you peered into the fridge.

“You.” He smirked kissing your neck, feeling bold off of the high from your makeout session.

“Joon!” you pretended to sound scandalized as you turned in his arms, smiling warmly. The nickname made his heart swell. It added a familiarity that he didn’t know he missed from you.

“You haven’t called me Joon before. I like it” he smiled as he pecked your lips.

“Hey! We are cooling down! No kissing! Now pick” you chided and Namjoon couldn’t help but wonder if you were this assertive in bed too, a million scenarios playing in his head. Okay, you were right, he needed to cool down.

“I’ll just have water, thanks,” he said as he grabbed the bottle you passed him, opening and gulping half of it. He hadn’t realized how thirsty he was for something other than you. You both made your way to the tables, sitting across from each other.

“So did you finish your proposal?” He asked trying to cool himself but failing as he noticed you running the cold water bottle against your neck, the beads of condensation dripping on your shirt. He cleared his throat as he tried to focus his attention on your eyes, a mantra of stay focused playing in his head.

“Yes! Finally! It’s perfect.” you smiled proudly and somehow he felt a wave of pride too. “What about you? Made any progress?”

“Actually yes. I kind of finished my entire week’s writing in that one hour” he was still amazed by his own progress.

“Okay, Mr Overachiever” you joked and he chuckled.

“To be honest, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything, but I don’t know your presence is kind of soothing. It helped me focus.” Watching your smile grow wide, he continued, “I’ve been having pretty severe burnout this past month and it has just been hard to put down my thoughts, even non-lyrical ones.” He fidgeted with the water bottle as he looked at it, avoiding eye contact.

He didn’t know why he was telling you this. He recalled when he told you about his struggles as a leader during your first conversation. Somehow being around you led him to vomit out his feelings. It was… unlike him. Namjoon was usually not this honest on dates, or relationships, as much as he would hate to admit it. That’s the reason he broke off his last one. He felt bad lying to her about a busy schedule when he just wanted to be alone. She would have understood, she was kind and thoughtful, but it just felt easier to lie and not put the effort in to explain his thoughts. Even when they broke up, he lied and told her that it was because he couldn’t handle being in a relationship at the moment, when in reality things had cooled off a while ago and he felt guilty as his feelings faded.

He felt your hand reach out and grab one of his, intertwining your fingers. He felt comforted by the gesture as you rubbed your thumb across him before you spoke two words that warmed his heart. “I understand.”

“You know it’s hard to work at full speed all the time. It’s okay to not be at a hundred all the time. The valleys feed the peaks” you continued. It was a simple remark, but it sounded surprisingly poetic to him. He hadn’t felt this understood outside of the boys for a long time. It was refreshing. It was terrifying. He resisted his natural urge to run and hide.

“Are you speaking from experience?” he asked, needing to divert the attention away from his own vulnerabilities.

“Yeah. I had it pretty tough a couple of years ago. Too much pressure from myself, too many expectations. Led to too many vices and panic attacks” you shrugged as you continued and he squeezed your hand to comfort you. “It creeps up from time to time but my therapist and I have it handled” He looked at you in awe. You hadn’t given him a throwaway answer or switched the limelight back at him. You wasted no time in being as vulnerable as him, if not more. He knew at that moment that regardless of where this thing went, he wanted you to know you better.

“Thank you for being honest.” He brought your hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was an intimate gesture but he wanted you to know how much he appreciated your words - how much he appreciated you - in that moment. You both sat in comfortable silence for a little while, playing with each other’s hands that were still intertwined, till one of you yawned loudly causing the other to giggle. With the weight of the conversation lifting, you both fell back into playful banter as you decided to pack up and call it a night.

“Do you want me to walk you to your car?” Namjoon asked, wanting to drag the night on longer despite it already being almost 2 am.

“Don’t judge me but I actually don’t know how to drive. I was just going to cab back.” he saw you giggle bashfully as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders.

“Oh, no judgment here! Me neither” he laughed. Why does everyone think it is such a big deal to not drive? It’s better for the environment! “Do you want to take one together? I don’t really want you to ride alone this late.” He rubbed the back of his neck, hoping he didn’t come off as if he was trying to dictate what you did.

“I’d really like that,” you said as you walked towards the elevators. He held your hand as you both got on, liking the way you moved closer to him at that.

In the cab you both sat closer than necessary, his arm wrapped around you as you both made plans for your scheduled date later that day, trying not to doze off. When the cab stopped all too soon at your apartment, he kissed you gently as he told you how much he enjoyed your company.

That night laying in bed, his heart felt full as he read your goodnight message. He was sure of it now. He really wanted you in his life.

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[poppysmc]

I Don't Know How You Do It But I'm Forever Ruined

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for so so long, unfinished with a different song and Im just obsessed with this song right now so I thought I'd go ahead and post it.. sorry for the mistakes I don't have a beta so they're all mine. I'm just slowly getting back to writing again, please be patient with me. ❤️

Song: Off my face - Justin Bieber

(One shot)

Last and certainly not the least…. Ms. Morgan Hughes, she’ll be gracing us with her angelic voice, singing… uhh… Off my face? Thomas reads the cue cards, slightly puzzled, he thought Morgan would be doing stand-up, he and Morgan’s posse endured long nights of practicing her stand-up routine and now she’s just gonna sing, it’s not even vetted on.

He glances to the side, silently confirming if it was right. Morgan nods and smiles nervously. He in turn smiles back, giving an encouraging thumbs up and a whisper of ‘good luck’ as she takes to the stage.

Some of the audience chuckled at the name choice, adding to the ever growing lump lodged in her throat. This is definitely not her best idea and before she could go ranting about the title, some of her friends clapped and cheered, giving her a slight boost of confidence.

She wrote thet a few months ago, absently plucking at the guitar strings. She’s got the same few chords stuck in her head for week. Only god knows how she pulled the lyrics out of her muddled brain.

How does one go about sharing her feelings for someone who has no idea? Said someone sitting front and center with a scowl, sitting next to her parents. She has no idea she wrote it for her, she sighs in relief.

For a split second she could see Poppy’s attention snap up to her, smirking and raising her eyebrow in question. Morgan rolls her eyes at her and settled into her chair and just like Poppy’s face never moved, her scowl was back in place, listening to Chloe rant about her talent to her right.

She starts plucking out the intro, it’s now or never.

One touch and you got me stoned

Higher than I’ve ever known

You call the shots and I’ll follow

Sunrise but the night’s still young

No words but we’re speaking tongues

If you let me I might say too much

Sometimes people just enter your life and burrow themselves so deep into it that for the life of you, you couldn't remember when it all started. This case was different, Morgan could vividly remember a day it all changed, how it became harder for her to even look Poppy in the eye for more than a few seconds. How her warm touch roughly pulling her back to the argument now seemed to burn through her sleeves, pressure slightly softer. She used to meet her hot gaze, faces only inches apart spitting out vicious insults without thinking much, now she didn’t have the same fire in her veins she seemed to have arguing with Poppy.

The need to antagonize her fizzled into something else, a warmth that threatens to overtake her made itself a home in her chest.

---------------

Morgan wanted to stay home, as much as she enjoyed parties, it wasn’t something she wanted to do regularly. Sometimes it gets a little too much to handle, the music felt too loud, the people got too close, the eyes on her felt stifling. She wanted to be free just this one night out of expectant looks but Zoey is too convincing, her puppy dog eyes are too powerful for a mere mortal like herself. She made a condition to just be at the party no over the top expensive clothes, just herself.

“I’ll come but just to be your glorified chauffer.” She dresses herself in something simple, a pair of black pants and flannel. “I just want to be invisible this one night, Zo.”

“Fine by me, but if your fashion choices end up splashed all over The T tomorrow don’t come crying to me.” Zoey shakes her head, the slight dig on her wardrobe is softened by a thankful grin.

“You get dragged on The T once, and no one lets you live it down.”

“Because I’m pretty certain I said don’t go out in that, it’s suicide. So yeah I would never let it go, you wore socks with your flip-flops and had the audacity to show yourself in public.”

“It’s not even my fault, sunny ran out the door. I had no time to check what I was wearing."

“You’ll never learn. Whatever will you do without me?” Zoey smirks and shakes her head affectionately. "Stop stalling and let’s go. My carriage awaits dear chauffer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Please allow me to escort you down, boss.” Morgan bumps her shoulders with Zoey as she passes by to grab her jacket. She opens the door and offers her arm, Zoey laughs and loops her arms around hers.

The party was already in full swing once they arrived. The music was blaring; the bass makes Morgan’s chest thump along erratically with every beat. “Text me, okay? I’ll make myself scarce.”

“Sure. Thanks for driving.” Zoey winks and beelines for the bar. In a few seconds she loses sight of her.

Morgan trudges through the house, the crowd gradually thins as she makes her way farther to the back. She exhales in relief finally free of the maze of drunk students with no boundaries, nobody seemed to pay attention to her, thank god for the dim lighting. The backdoor swings open, she breathes in the crisp night air. The door shuts and party fades into muffled thumps. She sat on the porch steps, her side leaning against the banister, oblivious to the pair of eyes quietly observing her.

After a minute of silence, Morgan sucked air through her clenched teeth, surprised at hearing someone pointedly clearing their throat behind her. The rate in which her head whipped back almost made her dizzy. When she recognizes who the person was, she could already feel the headache coming through, she almost swallows her tongue in disbelief. Of all the people she didn’t want to see her tonight was Poppy, yet here she was, alone with her.

“What are you doing back here?” Poppy asked, voice devoid of any venom just genuinely curious.

“Do I need permission to be? Who made you queen?” Morgan scoffs, the slight bite in her voice comes through and makes Poppy smirk.

“Belvoire.” Poppy cheekily answers, earning an undignified snort from Morgan. The slight tension momentarily forgotten.

“Should have seen that coming.”

“The party’s raging inside and little miss newbie sits here. What are you doing, really?” Poppy asks not unkindly, voice tinged with concern and curiosity.

“I could ask the same to you.”

“I asked first.” Poppy frowns impatiently.

Morgan sighs, opting to just answer just to avoid trouble. She didn’t have the energy to make up excuses nor to argue. “I don’t feel like partying today. I’m just waiting for Zoey to get flat out drunk and drive her home. My turn.”

“It’s-  It’s overwhelming inside. I just want to be alone for a while.” The honesty in Poppy’s answer momentarily throws her off.

“Do you want me to go?” Morgan asks, feeling like she’s intruding. This must be the longest record they ever had being civil to one another, actually speaking without the sarcastic comments and the insults. It makes her feel out of place and awkward.

“You could do whatever you want. I’m not the queen of anything right now.” Right, cause technically it's Chloe. There’s something in her tone that makes Morgan’s heart clench, yet she shrugs it off as the bass from the party. To Morgan’s never ending surprise, the blonde pats the spot next to her on the bench. “The floor is filthy.” Poppy clarifies when she makes no move to stand. A disarming smile crosses her face, Morgan guessed her hesitation must have been showing.

Morgan stands and dusts herself off. “Who are you and what have you done to Poppy?” She asks with a grateful smile, sitting down the furthest she could from the other girl.

“I have half the mind to kick you off this bench.” Poppy grumbles.

“There she is.”

Poppy huffs out a half laugh and after that there’s just silence. After a while she could see the slight tremble in Poppy’s hand in her periphery. She wordlessly shrugs off the coat she’s wearing and offers it to the other girl.

“What?” Poppy blinks, eying her coat suspiciously, making Morgan chuckle in disbelief.

“You’re cold. Take it or go inside.”

“Fine.” Poppy slips on the offered garment, appreciating the warmth it gave to her cold limbs. She wasn’t thinking while she burrowed herself further, letting Morgan’s scent envelope her. She stared at Morgan, feeling guilty for a moment. She moves closer, Morgan shivers when their shoulders touched. "Thanks." Poppy whispers, if it wasn't for their proximity, Morgan might have missed it. She hoped the shadows hid the small smile spreading to her lips.

“I’m sorry for taking your coat. I just couldn’t go back inside. I-” Poppy trails off, breaking her gaze away and staring farther up the yard.

“It’s okay, I offered. You don’t have to explain anything.” Morgan understood, after today everything changed, she lost her spot to one of her friends. Morgan was somewhat surprised that instead of Poppy's explosive anger, she opted to just sit here and mope.

She jumps a little when her phone vibrates in her pocket, she could see Poppy smirk in the corner of her eye.

"Jumpy."

She reads the text and taps a reply, frowning. She turns to Poppy. She doesn't even know why she's explaining but it felt wrong to just go without saying anything. A part of her wanted to make this moment stretch a little longer, so she hesitates.

“Apparently Zoey doesn’t need me to drive her back. So... I guess I'll head back home." Morgan stands not having an excuse to stay longer and makes her way to the door, hands hovering over the door knob to open it but not before doing something stupid like asking her so called enemy if she wanted to drive around for a while.

“So… Do you still want company? We could drive around for a while?” Morgan mentally chastises herself for the suggestion. Of course Poppy would say no it’s not like she-

Morgan looks back at Poppy, she sees her worrying her bottom lip between her teeth in thought. Morgan’s gaze flickers down to her lips, wondering if they’re as soft as they looked. The moment passed and she breaks her gaze away just as Poppy decided.

“Sure but let me just get my stuff.” Poppy stands and makes her way to the door, Morgan standing motionless, hand over the handle. She reaches for it, her fingertips grazing Morgan’s, the slight static made her pull her hand away abruptly.

“Sorry.” Morgan breaks through her short circuited brain and moves to hold the door open for Poppy.  “I’ll wait for you out front.” Morgan makes her way back through the crowd, her mind reeling at what happened back there and what mess she got herself into.

---------------

She continued singing, her eyes accidentally meeting Poppy’s gaze again, her scowl was replaced by an unreadable expression, attention now focused solely on her and Morgan almost faltered. She breaks eye contact and stares at the back wall, ignoring the burning gaze upon her from those familiar eyes.

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

-----------------------

The sound of the door opening breaks Morgan out of her deep thoughts. She could see Poppy walking towards her with a sour expression, she's still wearing Morgan's coat.

“What happened to you?” Morgan’s warm hands reaching out to her, settling comfortably on her shoulder. Poppy stares at her hands, she pulls it away like she’s been burned.

“Just drive.” Poppy mumbles, trying hard to be composed but failing.

“Where to?” Morgan pretends not to notice Poppy's agitation, barely glancing at her so she won't feel uncomfortable. She unlocks her car slipping inside while Poppy stares at the abomination in front of her.

“I don’t want to sound ungrateful but your truck is… I don’t know how to say it without offending you? But maybe it could use a good wash? Like you drove through mud to get here. I don’t know, maybe we could go to a carwash, my treat.”

"That’s about the rudest thing anyone’s ever said to me, and you said a lot of insulting things before." Morgan rolls her eyes. “She doesn’t mean that Betty, you just got a little mud on you.” She murmurs quietly.

“You named your car… Betty?”

“What? No I didn’t.” Morgan could see Poppy’s amused smirk even in her periphery.

“You’re such a dork.” Poppy can’t help but laugh at her mortified expression.

Morgan distracts herself from the rapidly rising heat on her neck by fiddling with the radio before driving off. The sweet sound of the guitar filtered through the car and she smiles triumphantly, previous embarrassment pushed to the back of her mind. She doesn't notice Poppy's expression soften.

Morgan drives her car through the carwash. They watched the water and the soap assault her car, the material of the brushes made a repetitive sound along with one of her favourite songs. Poppy had her seat leaned back, watching the machine rid the car of dust and mud. There was something mildly intimate about it, Morgan could move her right hand then they would be grazing Poppy’s, she could do it, she wanted to do it. But all she could manage was a slight twitch in her pinky, her hand doesn't move any closer.

“Do you ever feel like there’s a hundred people around you in a room, yet you feel alone?” Poppy breaks the silence, tilting her head slightly to the left to look at Morgan.

“Sometimes, yeah. Sometimes people may be looking at you yet feel as if their staring right through you, like your nothing. Oh! Like a ghost.” This makes Poppy chuckle.

“Yeah like that. It would have been easier if we were ghosts at least then you know why.”

“Did you feel like that back at the party?” Morgan wanted to say how that would have been impossible that no one could have seen her, she’s seeing her now. She wondered how could anyone ever take their eyes of her, she always seemed to be the brightest thing in any room she entered and now even in this dingy carwash she looked so radiant. How sometimes she thinks that she picks fights with her just for a chance to be bathed in her light. Thoughts she doesn't think would ever cross her mind trickled slowly and became a raging river. Now that she found herself here with her, without anything familiar to fall back on, anything just to distract herself out of her dangerous thoughts.

“Yeah, I don’t know. It was easier to be alone than surrounded but feeling alone. Do you get it? At least I know, I chose to be alone.”

“I get it.” If she had the ability to say more she would have but these few pathetic words are all she could manage. This time her hand reaches to squeeze Poppy’s. A quiet comfort to reinforce her words, she understood.

“Thank you.”

Whatever atmosphere they created in that moment fell apart when Morgan had to move her car forward and exited the wash.

“Where to now?”

“Your turn to choose.” Poppy mumbles, still staring blankly outside.

“Okay, I know a place. You're gonna love it."

“I’m not going to let you pick anymore.” Poppy complains, standing in front a fluorescent lit diner. It almost glowed but in a weird way, like a bat signal for the weary.

“Hey! They make the best food.” Morgan steps forward and drags her companion along when she hesitated.

Warmth and the ambient sound of cutlery grazing the plates makes Morgan smile. She always came here when she’s feeling lonely, missing her parents, their farm or when she’s stressed from school, for trying to fit in like a robot.

“Come. Don’t just stand there.” Morgan looks back at Poppy, her breath caught in her throat. Poppy looked ethereal against the most basic place there ever is. If you said diners were some kind of portal to somewhere else she’d accept it and move on, for she looked like she existed out of place, alien, untouchable as she was beautiful. For the second time this day her gaze flickers to Poppy’s lips, she realizes that she’s saying something and Morgan’s mortified of being caught staring like a fool.

“What? Is something on my face?” Poppy is thankfully oblivious.

“No, it’s perfect.” Morgan quietly whispers while Poppy checks herself in the diner’s window, her words falling into deaf ears.

Morgan balls up pieces of her straw paper places it over some torn up tissues, stacked together. She’s fidgeting under Poppy’s presence; she doesn’t know what to do with her hands.

She's startled when Poppy lightly grasps her hands stopping it from tearing up another piece of paper. It’s been minutes of watching Morgan tear up even rectangles of several tissues, a girl could only take so much.

“You’re making a mess.” Poppy chastises her like a child. She would have laughed but Poppy still hasn’t let go of her hand, it’s making her blush like an idiot.

“Sorry. It’s just that the food is taking a while huh?” Morgan stealthily tries to take her hand back but Poppy only holds it tighter. When they're not arguing, Morgan found that she doesn't know how else to act around her.

“Stop tearing paper like confetti.”

“Sorry.” Morgan sheepishly apologizes and Poppy lets go of her hand, hiding hers under the table, flexing it, she could still feel the warmth of her hand in hers.

The food arrives and Morgan smiles widely. Poppy stares, pretending she's interested in what food Morgan ordered. She admits to herself that for all the times she stared at her she never noticed how beautiful Morgan’s smile was. Arguing doesn't leave one space to insert a smile. It made her heart skip, imagining how it would be like if it was directed at her.

She almost misses Morgan stealing a fry off her plate. “Hey! If you wanted some you should have bought your own or at least politely asked.” Poppy mock glares at her companion, taking one of the crumpled balls and flicking it, hitting Morgan right between the eyes. They watched as the paper landed right into Morgan’s half empty milkshake glass.

"Your face!" Poppy laughs, wishing she could have captured it on camera.

Morgan found that she liked Poppy's laugh when it was genuine. “You better buy me another. You ruined mine.”

“What? It’s almost all gone anyway. All the needless calories you’re consuming will bite you in the ass someday.”

“I’ll take my chances.”

“Just have the rest of mine.” Poppy slides over her milkshake, Morgan grins and takes a sip right into Poppy’s straw. Poppy noticed first, eyes widening. Did She just… A revolting question crossed her mind, how would ‘Morgan’s lips feel like pressed to mine.’ Shes never felt jealous of a piece of plastic before in her life.

Morgan freezes when she realized what she’s done. She just had an indirect kiss with Poppy through the straw. “Sorry. I got excited.”

Poppy opens a new straw for her water, blowing the other end right into Morgans face, another bulls eye, she’s killing it. “Don’t overthink it.” She dismisses the act but her brain does summersaults inside her skull.

They finished eating, the last few of Poppy’s fries stolen right under her nose. She pretends she doesn’t see her sneaking a few of the fries away, she just lets her. Mind preoccupied with important things like Morgan’s lips.

------------------

Can’t sleep ‘cause I’m way too buzzed

Too late now you’re in my blood

I don’t hate the way you keep me up

Your touch blurred my vision

It’s your world and I’m just in it

Even sober I’m not thinking straight

Even if she doesn't look or at least tries her hardest not to, she could feel Poppy's gaze on her, burning, willing her eyes to look back. There's something wildly intimate about singing a song to someone and in the sea of strangers you know it's just for them. No matter how many people sang it, to another, to themselves or just for the heck of it, the song only belongs to the person you made it for. Just for her. They could never feel the way she felt when she wrote it, how her feelings were entwined with every word.

In her periphery she could see Poppy stand and make excuses to her parents. She left, she didn't see where she went, she doesn't dare look anywhere near where she was, she's a coward like that. All she could feel is disappointment. It takes everything in her not to show it on her face. Was it too late to change her talent to stand up?

----------------------------------

"Come on Poppy, pick a place already. I've been driving around for hours! People will think we're stalking someone around here." Morgan whines in the driver seat taking yet another turn around the block.

"It's been exactly 20 minutes. You're such a baby." Poppy looks at her phone for any places that might still be open around this time. "Turn right, that's not right. Right! Not left."

"Great, now were going in circles. Pull over."  Poppy grumbles.

"What?" Morgan looks confused for a moment but does what she’s told anyway, parking along the street.

"Get out."  Poppy moves to exit the car.

"What are you..?"

"I'm not gonna hijack your car, just let me drive. You suck at following directions."

"...."

They switch seats, Morgan slumps and mopes in hers. Poppy fights back a smile.

“Would you look at that it only took 2 minutes.” Poppy smiles smugly.

“I did all the navigating you only had to turn once.” Morgan complains, getting out of the car and looking around the parking lot. “What the hell Poppy, a 711? You could have told me, I could have turned anywhere and found one.”

“Like hell you could. You don’t even know your left from your right.” Poppy laughs at Morgan’s offended expression. They walked in, shoulders brushing together and Morgan shivers, insisting to herself that it’s because it’s cold.

Poppy smiles, victoriously pulling out what they came here for out of the fridge.

“A freaking capri sun? We drove all the way here for that?” Morgan complains, ready to throttle Poppy. Though there’s something endearing in her expression, that proud smile for finding something she was looking for.

“Just go find something you want.” Poppy shoos her away, grabbing a few more pouches of juice. She shakes her head and walks off in search of snacks.

Morgan comes back with an armful of sweets and chips.

“We just ate. What are you doing? Take these back, I won't buy you all these.”

“You said something I like. I like them all. Come on aren't you rich?” Morgan dumps her haul in the counter, the cashier looking back and forth from them, looking for a sign that it’s okay to scan the items.

“Are you just an overgrown kid or what?”

“Pop, you just bought a juice in a pouch, you have no right to judge me.”

“Fine.”

Morgan carries three bags worth of snacks back to the car, Poppy not attempting to lift a finger just because she paid.

“Your turn. Pick a place.”

Minutes later they're on a cliff overlooking the city. Fading notes from a song playing in Morgan’s car filtered to the back.

“I'm surprised you didn't get lost.”

“I don't suck at directions. You're the one that sucked at giving them.” Morgan says in self-defence. She unlatches the back so they could sit on it, holding Poppy’s waist, helping her up. If Poppy noticed her hands shake, she didn’t say anything. They sat closer together, leaning against the side. She could feel the cold seeping into her shirt, making her shiver. Poppy notices and moves to take Morgan's coat off.

“No. Keep it on.” Morgan stops her, cold hands over equally cold ones.

“But you're cold.”

“I'm not.” Morgan attempts to refute it but her hands are freezing.

“I can see your teeth chattering.”

“I like it on you.” She smiles softly.

“What?”

“I don't want you to be cold. Just take it, don’t be stubborn.”

“If you speak of this to anyone, I would personally kill you in your sleep.”

“Why would you do- oh.” Morgan stared in confusion, then realization.

Poppy moved to sit in the space between her legs, leaning her back into Morgan, taking her hands and wrapping them to her waist. Her hands rubbing over Morgan's freezing ones. To say that she was now warm was an understatement, she was burning from the blush that overtook her body.

“If you wanted to be near me so bad you could've just asked.” Morgan grins, chin propped on Poppy's shoulder.

Poppy huffs and attempts to get up. Morgan's arms stop her, wrapping tighter, keeping her in place. “Don't move, I might freeze to death.”

“That's what I thought.”

They had a toast with the Capri sun pouches, laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. They sat there talking for hours, the company was too enjoyable to give in to exhaustion or cold.

From the time they were talking Poppy shifted her position, now sitting on Morgan's lap, staring up at her while she told a story about their farm animals, making her scrunch her nose in disgust at one of her retellings.

They stared at the sky surprised to see the day chasing the night away. How long have they been talking? Morgan looks at her phone and even more surprised that it's nearly 6am. Time went by so fast.

“I always wanted to see the sunrise from here. Thanks for the company.” Morgan smiles softly, running her fingers through her hair to distract herself from Poppy.

No one mentioned how one of their hands are still interlaced together or how Morgan's thumb drew circles on the back. Especially not Poppy's lips softly grazing the underside of her jaw.

They watched in silence, both aware that as the night was done, so will this new moment they found together.

“I'll take you to back to your dorm.” Morgan reluctantly says, unwilling to move. It was Poppy who moved off her first.

Morgan slides off the back of her truck smirking at Poppy. “Want a piggy back ride?”

Poppy scoffs. But positions herself anyway, her arms wrapped on Morgan's shoulders, Morgan's hands holding her legs securely as she closes the small distance to the front of her car.

They drove back in silence, neither speaking of the moment, afraid it will be over soon.

Morgan stops her car in front of Poppy’s sorority house, tapping her fingers anxiously against the steering wheel.  No one talked nor moved for a minute or two, they just stared at each other feeling the change in whatever relationship they previously held. Poppy’s alarm goes off, effectively ruining their moment.

“I guess... I'll see you later. Good Morning, Poppy.” Morgan smiles softly, hands gripping the steering wheel too tightly, knuckles going white, stopping herself from reaching out.

“I’ll… see you later. Thank you for driving me around.” They both know they will see each other but not in the same capacity as tonight, they will be back to being rivals, enemies, whatever the school made them out to be. She could see Poppy fighting a losing battle against herself before she reached out and kissed the corner of Morgan's mouth. She turns away like nothing happened and exits the car without looking back.

-------------------

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Cause I’m off my face in love with you

I’m out my head so into you

And I don’t know how you do it

But I’m forever ruined by you

Morgan stands and bows to the applause, yet she felt empty. It all felt useless somehow, she wasn't even there to hear the rest of it. She makes her way backstage, turning the corner as the next talent comes up. She felt like running but before she could turn and walk away, Poppy pushes herself off the wall and approached her. She gulped, unsure of what to do.

“Your voice is very beautiful.” Poppy tells her, voice almost as soft as a whisper. She's searching Morgan’s terrified eyes for something. “The song, did you write it?” She asks all the while moving closer, hands fiddling with the lapel of Morgan’s suit.

All she could do is nod, not trusting her voice at the moment. She takes a step back and another and another until her back is against the wall but Poppy follows her every step. Thank god they seemed alone or she would have burst into flames in embarrassment. Poppy steps closer until their bodies are almost touching.

“Who did you write that song for?”

“I...”

“Tell me.” Poppy looks up almost pleading, wanting to hear what she hoped to.

“It’s for you.” Morgan presses herself even more to the wall, wishing it would just swallow her up. She closes her eyes but it flies open when she heard Poppy gasp. “Are you surprised or?” Morgan trails off, observing Poppy’s expression going from astonished, to happy and outright tearing up.

“I can’t believe you wrote that song for me, I thought that there was someone else.” Poppy breathes in relief, Morgan’s hands wrap around her waist, supporting her weight.

“Just you.” Morgan says breathlessly. Watching her break into a smile made all the nerves she had vanish. She pulls her into a tight hug, smiling when she feels Poppy sink into the embrace. Her head leans on her shoulder and she rests her cheek on her hair. Poppy pulls back and smiles before leanig up and kissing Morgan.