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fubureaders · 7 months ago

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just checked this again as I've been seeing it in my notifications for a bit... y'all this has 125 likes??? first, thank you???? seriously, thank you, i love you all dearly and hope you're having a fantabulous day, i'm so grateful you woke up today

on another note... why do y'all like this fic so much???? I didn't even finish it???!?!!???? I literally just wrote out bullet points at the end because I didn't want to write full sentences anymore... but okay, go off I guess... thank you again 💋💋💋💋

he was a nerd, she did ballet, what more can i say? | joshua bassett au imagine

summary: it's a university AU in nyc, cuz what better place is there for a rom-com moment? lucky for you there's a really cute guy standing up at the podium in the latest student government meeting... who seems to like learning more about pirouettes and lifts. or maybe he just likes the way you look in pink. 🩰🩰🩰

wc: 1.7k

note: happy belated golden (22nd) birthday joshua!!

masterlist

it's your second year of university, and your dance classes are getting more intense than what you've ever done before... and you're loving every minute, even if your feet are killing you. but you're studying your passion in the most beautiful city in the world. even if new york was recently named the most expensive in the world... your grandma's got a rent controlled apartment in harlem that has in unit laundry, a dishwasher, and rooms for both you and your childhood friend to sleep in. plus central air. there's no way in hell you're ever passing it up, regardless of whether or not your downstairs neighbors hate it when you stay up late practicing.

for their luck though, your friend and now roommate is looking to work in diplomacy and international relations, after having seen that queen amelia mignonette thermopolis renaldi of genovia went to the woodrow wilson school in princess diaries 2: royal engagement. she said, and these were her exact words, "it's either i become mia thermopolis and marry a chris pine type, or become an elle woods type and marry a luke-wilson-as-emmett-forest type." she's a sweetheart though, and you both have a love for pink. so when she has these movie-based ambitions, you go with it because this girl will probably end up taking over the political world while you're taking over the dance world.

so anyway, because this girl's plotting pink-filled world domination, she's been getting her start in the university student government, and she's doing a great job. she lost the election for sophomore class president, but she says the guy who won is really nice and working with him as sophomore vice president hasn't made her sick yet, which is high praise from her so you're not entirely annoyed at the idea of attending the next meeting with her. besides, you've been meaning to branch out more and make friends who aren't in the dance program, because let's be real... most of the girls taking ballet are thin, white, wealthy and it can be difficult to have a variety of discussions with them, no matter how much you love talking about the professors with them. hopefully there are a couple more people of color (besides you and your friend) that you can talk to, and befriend.

after a long train ride down to campus and grabbing some food at one of the trucks outside from your favorite vendor who always serves you extra for the same price, you and your friend head inside and rush to catch the elevator. thankfully, a (really cute) guy holds the elevator open for you both, and as the doors close your friend seems to recognize him and so she begins talking to him about some school issue being brought up in tonight's event. while you're looking at your email to check if any professors are suddenly assigning work due at 11:59, you feel the guy's curious and intrigued eyes glancing towards you. in such a short elevator ride, you've never felt so flattered.

so when the cute elevator guy asks for your name, you can't help but feel sad when the elevator doors choose that exact moment to open up. of course the cute elevator continues to be a gentleman and once more holds the doors open for you and your friend, so you tell him your name in a quiet tone as you walk past. not accounting for the chatter going on, you don't realize that he couldn't hear your reply.

the room begins to quiet down as your friend makes her way to the front of the room, so you quickly find a seat near the wall and set your bag to rest on your chair. and as you look up to focus on the meeting that your friend was so excited about, you're happy to see some members of the black student union, and make a mental note to talk to some of them after the meeting. but then your eyes focus on the podium at the front of the room, and are surprised to see "cute elevator guy" standing there, talking about starting off the student government meeting as sophomore class president. so this is the guy who won. does it make you a bad friend to say you would've voted for him too, based on that smile alone? wow, you could get used to these meetings -- and now you feel put on the spot, because all of a sudden he's making eye contact with you.

he's making eye contact with those glittering brown eyes of his (how in the hell are they glittering, bro? that's some magic right there)... and he's talking all pretty and passionate about mental health initiatives he wants to propose for students. and wouldn't you know it, not only is the guy cute but he seems to know what he's talking about. he's got a whole slideshow talking about mental health issues that students are facing, unprecedented issues that this university and many others have never faced before, and how he plans to aid students through his term. he's talking animatedly with his hands, talking about some of his own experiences, and even talking about how he knows that he can't speak on how it impacts each individual because he recognizes his privilege. you're finally understanding why vulnerability and honesty can be so damn attractive in a man.

he then brings up a group of students with whom he's been working on a plan to present to the university, and this group is comprised of majority students of color and those with disabilities. it's a necessary meeting, and you even see some people from the school paper writing down their responses, giving these students a platform to discuss what mental health means to them at a PWI. it's beautiful, and you feel grateful that your friend pushed you to come out tonight.

so when the meeting ends, you're a little sad because the discussion was getting good. only reason why it ended was because "cute elevator guy," or as you've now found out it's joshua, ordered pizzas for everybody. the man is considerate, kind, intellectual, and has money to buy all that pizza for a bunch of broke & hungry college kids? yeah, he's definitely got your vote in more ways than one.

you and your friend regroup, and are talking with some of the students from before about classes and fun things around the city, when you get that same feeling from the elevator that the class president is still checking you out. you feel your cheeks warm, and you start to play with your jewellery, getting your friend's attention as they know it's a telltale sign of you being nervous.

"what's up? you've been weird since the elevator... with josh... ooooh, you finally have a crush!" they exclaim, and you give them your best 'i will cut you if you raise your voice by one more decibel' stare. they grin mischievously as they glance over to joshua, who was looking at you until getting caught by your friend, causing him to blush and go on his phone as a distraction from you. as your friend turns back, you begin to explain to them, "listen, i would totally approach him because, i mean... look at him," you say as they nod along in understanding, "but i'm just so tired of always having to approach guys. especially at this school, not one of them has ever approached me first, i'm always starting the conversation. so if mr. president wants to talk to me, he can talk and i will gladly listen."

you had hoped that was the last of it, and for a minute there it truly seemed like your friend had just let the whole thing go, left it in the past and moved on. until they so innocently said they were throwing away trash, took your plate along with theirs, and quickly walked over to joshua. the other students you've been talking with see this go down and try not to laugh, otherwise they'd give it all away. but you turn around anyway, to find yourself being pointed at by your friend, who's looking all too happy while talking with the lanky student advocate... who's now holding eye contact with you once again. you try to play it off cool, hoping you weren't outwardly drooling and praying your melanin is enough to hide your blushing.

then, a hand gently touches your arm. that same hand that was waving around animatedly while the cute elevator guy was talking at the podium, with the amateur black-polished manicure and a couple rings in addition. your friend reappears on your other side, still wearing that mischievous grin and watching you over the brim of their cup. you turn, and lo and behold, there's mr president now, smiling at you again like he wants you to have a crush on him.

author's note: finishing this off with bullet points, will probably come back to this and rewrite the whole thing so it's fully fleshed out

you guys talk, and people are trying to talk to him about more campus issues, but he's asking you about your favorite restaurants and ballet-related memories

you mention your favorite pizza shop to him, and your friend just so happens to have an exam early tomorrow morning (you're so buying them coffee as a thank you for saying that)

so you take him to your favorite place, while you talk about seeing performances of the dance theatre of harlem and the american ballet theatre growing up, and being too scared to audition for the production with solange's music attached being put on recently

he talks about wanting to go into advocacy for the queer community and in general those who deal with mental health issues (maybe you mentally think "great another broken white boy" like black panther... maybe you even say it, and he actually gets the joke/reference?? either way it's a funny thought and a fun time)

anyway at some point, your friend texts you asking how your "date with mr president" is going, but you don't even notice your phone buzz, because you're just talking about everything with each other. after a little while he sees how few people are left in the restaurant, and you guys see how much time passed. so he pays and walks you home, giving you guys the chance to talk more, and you're loving every minute of it

you get to the doorway of your apartment, and tell him that next time he can show you his favorite music shops around the city that he'd mentioned, and you'll even let him talk your ear off more about advocacy. he laughs, and ends up successfully getting your number

the next day, you wake up and see that he sent a message telling you how much he had last night. you guys end up talking as you make your way to class, but you're not paying too much attention to your professor. only because as you were walking into the room, he sent you a text asking you out for a real date

bonus: real date where he takes you to see the solange ballet, and once you guys get outside by the lincoln center fountain, he tries to recreate some of the moves with you. then you guys go back to the pizza place and talk some more

okay so i don't know how to end these but i hope you like it, and that it makes sense. sorry i couldn't fully finish it out, it's currently 4 am (merry christmas eve by the way, and happy holidays otherwise). but i really liked this idea, and i hope you do too. happy belated birthday joshua (if he ever sees this i want him to say in an interview what his thoughts are on solange)

ok love you bye, happy holidays, drink some water, get some rest (very hypocritical i know)

#fubu readers #fubu recs #fubu fandom #joshua bassett x black fem reader #joshua bassett x black!fem!reader #joshua taylor bassett #joshua bassett x black!reader #joshua bassett x black reader #joshua bassett au #joshua bassett x reader #joshua bassett imagine #joshua bassett

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writingsfromhome · 10 months ago

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The Golden Years

A/N: really liked this song the first time I heard it and decided to write something based off of it!!

——————————————

5 years ago:

The halls were noisy with the rush of the bell; the day had ended and everyone was eager to get home on the spring Friday. I sit in the music room with my guitar, strumming softly trying to get the tune out of my head.

The music room had the familiar woody smell, I never really knew if that was from the furnishing or all the instruments but I never got tired of it.

The only other people here are Thomas who’s napping after skipping his last class and the music teacher who’s setting up the class for next week’s lesson. He liked me and by extension allowed me to linger in his class after school. And sometimes let my mates stay hidden from hall monitors.

I wave goodbye to him as he finishes up, wishing him a good weekend. He just misses y/n walking in.

Y/n y/l/n. She moved down the road from me a couple years ago and she was always fascinating to me. She’d made friends her first few months here and stuck with them—those same friends hated my friends for various reasons but they always gave me an excuse to interact with her albeit in an annoying way.

Y/n was known to win out the lead for any play our school has put on. She had an infectious energy and I’d spent every moment she caught my eye gazing at her—not that I’d admit it if anyone ever asked.

She spots me and smiles, I remember to smile back at the last minute, shocked that she was acknowledging me with one. We hadn’t been nice to each other in a while; the circles we ran in loved to hate each other.

“Hey Harry,” she walks up to a nearby desk and perches there. “Whatcha working on today?”

I try to compose myself, “hey. Y/n. Uh I’m just trying something out. Something new.”

“Can I hear it?” She asks, her eyes alight with a genuine interest. It catches me off guard again.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I asked didn’t I?!”

“It’s really rough.”

“That’s okay,” she shrugs. She makes herself more comfortable.

“Really rough I-“

“Please?”

With a bat of her eyes I’m putty. I take in a deep breath—here goes nothing. Or if anything this would just be one more thing her friends could make fun of me for. Maybe that’s why she was here.

I strum her what I’d been working on for the last hour and hum along. She listens intently, her expression shifting and opening up as the chords change. Being me and nervous, I end it on the wrong note and nearly poke my eye out with the neck, making an awkward save as I set it down on my lap.

She sits quietly after the production, back straight and gazing out the window with a relaxed smile.

“I know you said that’s rough but that was amazing.” She says to me. “You’re actually bloody talented Harry.”

“Aw uhm well thanks,” I mumble. My cheeks feel on fire. I rarely played for people like this. If they were around while I worked on pieces that was alright but I’ve never had an audience of one.

“No really! You have a gift how long you working on?”

“The day.”

“The day!” She shouts and her enthusiasm makes me laugh. I don’t know why she was being so nice to me but it fills me with a buzzing joy. “You have such a way with your music like each strum is a new part of a story. It’s good! I can imagine it in a movie.”

I blush harder, “Thanks I um…I really enjoy it. Sometimes it’s easier to express myself with this than with…with like a conversation?”

She nods in understanding, “Y’know you should share your music. Start a channel or something online and post stuff! Like covers—people love covers-“

“I don’t really like to sing.”

“But I bet you’re good at it too?”

“Uhm nah I’m-“

“Don’t get shy on me now!” She nudges me and I swear I feel it linger even after she moves her hand away. “You’re such a tough jerk in the halls when you’re picking on my friends don’t go soft now.”

I laugh until I’m doubled over, part overjoyed and part embarassed because it was true. I don’t know why I was suddenly being shy.

“I’ve got to warm up my vocal cords,” I touch my throat once I’m done laughing. She grins. “I can’t sing right now.”

“I’ll hear it one day. I’m holding you to it.” She points a finger at me. “You should be performing this stuff.”

The idea of performing outside the walls of the music room felt both exciting and daunting. But the earnestness in y/n’s eyes give me a sense of courage.

"Maybe," I shrug. "I've never really thought about it.”

"Well, maybe it's time you did," she suggests gently. "Don't let your talents stay hidden."

“Yeah,” I smile. “Makes sense coming from you.”

“What’s that mean?” She raises a brow.

“Our year wouldn’t be blessed with all your productions, you’ve got natural talent too.”

“Yeah well,” now it’s her time to blush. “I really enjoy it.”

“I know.” I say. She catches my eye and a tender fondness passes between us.

“Anyway, I promised Clara I would braid her hair before her football match so I’ve got to go. But…it was nice talking Harry.”

I watch her go and I can’t wipe the dopey smile off my face the rest of the weekend.

5 years later:

I didn’t think I would see her here. After all, she lived across the pond these days and had rsvp’d as a maybe.

But there she stands with the same group of friends that surrounded her even back then. They’re all a little older, grown into people their secondary selves could only imagine becoming. But even now, they’re faceless next to her; she commands all my attention.

She looks stunning in a simple blue bridesmaid dress and her hair grown down in waves. The wind lifts her hair and she looks as majestic as the first day my eyes landed on her. As radiant as every day I’d been with her afterwards. She was golden sunshine and every minute I got to spend with her had been golden too.

Four years since I last saw her. Those four years had gone by in the blink of an eye; it had been fun ‘til it hurt.

I feel a surge of emotions—longing, regret, and the tiniest speck of hope. They compete for dominance as I indulge studying her for a moment longer and just as I look away her head lifts, catching my gaze for the briefest second.

My heart races.

I turn and wander to where my mates pass a football around. Just like we used to. Some things never changed.

Some things did.

“You see her yet?” Thomas asks.

“D’you not see the look in his eye?” Abe, his twin brother, asks.

“Yeah I saw her,” I interrupt before they wheedle me for how I looked. I could imagine it, the regret and sorrow etched into my face. “It’s been four years I’ve already told you lot I’m over it.”

My friends glance at each other.

“I am.” I insist.

“The lady doth protest—ow!” Ramo rubs his chest where I’d tossed the football.

“Where’d this even come from?” I nod to the football.

They shrug, “Some kid had it. We stole it from him.”

I sigh and look around the space. One of our best mates from secondary was getting married to Hailey, one of Y/N’s mates. That’s why half of our class was here a short walk from where we all went to school.

The reception should have started a half hour ago but the couple were stuck in traffic. Apparently. So all the guests have been entertaining ourselves and that meant stealing footballs from children.

“What happened to that lady you were supposed to bring along?” Abe asks.

“Lady?” I ask.

“Yeah wasn’t she a few years older than you?”

I repress the urge to sigh, the same as when we were school boys these friends never stopped teasing each other. Of course I also did my fair share but the trick was to never let them know it cut too deep.

“We ended things a while ago,” I say as if it doesn’t poke at an old wound to say.

A while ago was two weeks ago when she found out my ex would be at the wedding and I had sent a text to the best man clarifying if she would be there. She had seen the message and gone batshit, talking about trust and about being emotionally closed off. It was hours of arguing into the night before she’d left home. We’d broken up the next day.

The old wound was feeling like I was never going to find love like I did with her. With Y/N. Every relationship I’d had since crashed and burned worse than a Nascar vehicle with faulty mechanics.

If I would've known those were the golden years, I would have done things so differently.

But for the last two weeks instead of pathetically staring at pictures with my ex and wondering if I should call her to make up, I was pathetically looking at the polaroids of Y/N and I that I kept in an old box. I wondered what happened to the ones she had, if they had gone up in flames or if they lived in a shoebox under her bed.

My attention’s snagged by the boys elbowing each other and glancing at me and then behind me. I turn just in time for y/n and a couple of her friends to walk up to us.

I try to play it cool but I don’t know how I look; probably like a deer in headlights, and y/n is the bright stark headlights.

But her eyes slide off of me and onto the group and it feels like I’ve become the deer after the headlights have blinked out of sight.

“If it isn’t the poor four,” one of y/n’s friend uses our nickname from school. “And who’s this?”

“Dinis,” Dinis puts the football down and extends his hand to Clara. We watch them flirt.

“Didn’t you know Dinis in college?” Abe asks.

“Clara moved away in college,” y/n says smiling at the interaction happening in front of us. “Obviously she hasn’t felt the Dinis-effect yet.”

Her friend and her laugh.

“Oi Y/N haven’t seen you in a minute how’s the Angel City?” Ramo asks.

“You mean the city of angels?” Y/n raises a brow and the group laughs again. I’m too mesmerized watching her talk, seeing her alive and in person in front of me to catch the joke in time so I smile along with the group. “It’s cool, always something to do. But I don’t actually live there anymore I moved out of the city last year. Get some breathing room.”

My heart skips a beat. “I heard the city’s as rammed as ours.”

I anticipate her attention, us locking eyes, something passing between. When our eyes do meet I feel a rush of familiarity and uncertainty.

And she simply glances like I’m just another bloke to her, nods, and the looks back at the group. “Yeah sometimes even worse if you can believe.”

Someone else asks another question but my head is filled with a loud buzz. Reality feels like it crushes me down as easy as an aluminum can; I was spared a glance. She spared me a glance. That’s all I was to her?

“Where d’you think the newlyweds are?” Clara asks.

“Traffic,” Abe rolls his eyes.

“Think fast,” Thomas suddenly shouts and the football is whizzing past me towards Clara. We watch in horror as it hits her with a thwack in the chest.

“What the fuck Thomas!” Clara holds her hands out as she stares at the dirt staining her blue dress. “What the-“

“That’ll come off,” Clara’s friends assure her. “It’s not mud don’t-“

“Here,” suddenly Denis is beside her and holding out his hand. “I’ll help you clean it off.”

“What the hell mate?” I look at Thomas. He’s flushed and looking scared. I’m too busy looking at him to notice Clara’s pitched the ball back at him and it hits him in the side of the head, knocking some sense back into him.

“Nice one.” Someone mutters.

“I’m sorry!” He finally finds his voice as Clara walks away with Dinis.

“You’ve got shite all over your hair,” Abe points out to his brother.

“I’m outta here before I’m next,” y/n’s other friends starts to back away to the group they were in previously.

“Where?!” Thomas starts rubbing it off which only spreads it further into gelled hair.

“Let’s go,” Abe hauls his brother away with an arm locked around his neck, tussling the dirt in his hair as they go.

“So…” Ramo looks between y/n and me, scratching the back of his head. “That was crazy. I should return this ball to…”

He trails off, walking away from the two of us. Which wouldn’t have been as awkward except he just left a cloud of awkward in his stead.

“Y/N,” I say softly like I was approaching a feral pup.

“Harry,” she replies, her tone polite yet distant, a subtle barrier between us.

“I don’t think they’ve changed much,” I act like I wasn’t aware of everything unspoken.

She smiles politely. “Nope. Just as boyish as the day we all met.”

“That wasn’t our proudest moment-“

“Yeah you boys thought you could beat us girls at British bulldog.”

“Little did we know,” I shake my head. We’d been badly beaten and battered by the girls’ team. We didn’t take to losing very well back then.

“If only we knew then what we know now.”

I look over at y/n; it felt like she was saying one thing but meant something else. Something that sounded close to reminiscing about us.

But with how she was acting it made me feel like I’d made us up. Was it never that serious for her?

“Wouldn’t have fucked up so much?” I ask.

“Yeah something like that,” her lips tip into a half smile. She still hasn’t looked me in the eye for more than a second. I missed those eyes. I missed the way they used to look at me.

“How’s the acting?” I ask. I wait for her to look at me, acknowledge me more than she did. Wait to see if alone together there would be more meaning in the looks we exchange but she stays facing forward.

“It’s slow right now. I haven’t been booking much this season which is why I was able to make it to this.”

“Sorry to hear that,” look at me I want to say instead.

She shrugs. “It happens. Slow seasons then you find yourself booked back to back and burnt out. Nature of the biz as they say.”

“Very LA.”

We go quiet and I feel my heart explode at the distance she was keeping; I can sense her guardedness.

"I've missed you," I confess quietly, unable to hold back the truth any longer. "I think about you often."

Her gaze softens, a fleeting vulnerability crossing her features before it hardens into something stonier.

"It’s been four years," she notes in an even voice. “Surely you’ve moved on Harry. Don’t try to flatter me now.”

I don’t think I had moved on, I think with a sinking heart. I hoped tonight would be a night of reconnecting and exploring if there was anything left of us in the future. But it seemed that y/n had made up her mind about what her future was going to be long before this.

“Oh look Clara’s back,” she spots her friend walking back towards us. Dinis is nowhere in sight but she’s splotchy and windswept.

“I’m going to literally kill that prick. I’ve got a wet spot on my front like I’m still bloody breastfeeding or something.”

“It’ll dry up,” y/n pats her friend’s dress. “It’s sunny out don’t worry.”

“It better by the time we do photos.”

It’s like I’m not even there. They continue talking and slowly turn to walk back to their other friends.

“Nice talk,” I call out.

Clara’s still too busy ranting but y/n glances at me. Her smile is a reflex as she waves, unengaged and apathetic.

I feel a jab in my chest, I don’t know what to think. The last four years I’ve been so afraid I’d let go of the best thing. That I’d never find a love like hers. Meanwhile she’s moved on so much that I wasn’t even an ex any longer. I was just someone she knew in grade school. That hurts. It feels like lava dripping over my chest.

“Y’alright?” Ramo reappears at my side. He looks genuinely concerned.

“Yeah!” I put on a smile I don’t even feel. “Just wondering when this party’s getting bloody started.”

I feel Ramo’s eyes on me as I walk towards another drink but he doesn’t say anything more.

***

I sit with my arm around Y/n and her head rests on my shoulder. Sometimes the quiet moments we existed in beat out the others. They fed my heart and heightened every sense of mine.

“I wrote something,” I whisper into her hair. She turns her head to look up at me and I gently pull away. “A song…for you.”

“For me?” Y/n’s eyes are alight with shock and something else. “You wrote a song for me?”

My heart pounds as I confirm with a nod. “I’m halfway done but I wanted you to hear it.”

“Well go on,” she sits up and angles herself towards me. “I want to hear it!”

I pull my guitar case closer to me and open the familiar snaps, pulling the instrument out and close to me with shaky hands. Y/N watches with an excited attentiveness.

I began the melody that started as a few chords in my head the first time Y/N and I kissed under this tree and has continued to build for the 4 weeks since. This tree felt like it witnessed so much of the 5 weeks we’ve officially been together and I wanted to write an ode to it as much as y/n.

I couldn’t believe it was only 5 weeks but after a summer and a whole semester of flirting and hanging out I’d finally asked her out at the end of January. It was now March and Y/n had gotten her acceptance letter from across the ocean. She had told me last week with nervous hands and I wanted her to know we would always have this thing between us no matter what decision she made.

Y/n smiles as I begin but her eyes grow misty as I finish my final lines I had so far.

"And under the cherry tree, where love and laughter will always be," I sing softly, my voice cracking with emotion. "I'll cherish all these memories, even when you're not beside me."

“Oh Har,” she tips forward and I catch her against my chest, her head buried in my neck. “I can’t imagine living so far from you. Leaving you and everyone behind.”

“It’s the adventure you’ve been waiting for,” I reassure her. “You’re gonna make it big.”

“I don’t know if it’s worth it,” she whispers.

I pry her away gentle so she can look me in the face. I want to selfishly tell her to stay and never leave me. But even more than that I want her to do what she has always been passionate about, what she loves to do.

Love.

I love her, I realize with a clarity that cut so deep it tumbles out of my mouth.

“I love you,” I say. She freezes in my arms and I fumble to continue. “And I want you to live the life you always imagined. You’re destined for amazing things y/n I know it. I’ll always be here.”

“Will you?”

“Of course,” I kiss her on her temple and ignore that she didn’t say it back. That I said it too soon damnit we’d only been dating a month. What was wrong with me?

“I think you need to share your talent with the world,” she reminds me.

“That’s why I joined the talent show with you.” It was y/n’s idea, a final hurrah before we graduate and to prove to myself that I could get over my performance anxiety.

“We’re gonna crush it.”

I nod, the lump in my throat grows too big for words. She seems to sense it like she always does and pulls me into her this time.

It would take her a week to whisper the three words back to me, in the darkened corner of a house party right before she leads me home. It was a long week but so worth it.

***

The next time I catch y/n alone is when I’m talking to Hailey who’s thanking me for the few words I gave for her now husband Michael. The husband in question was doing the Macarena and Hailey was the sort to never be caught dead doing that sort of thing.

That’s why the couple never made sense to either group of friends. Yet they were the ones with a ring on their finger this many years later.

“Hailey oh-“ y/n is tipsy, I can tell with the sheen to her eye and the permanent half-smile etched into her lips. “Sorry didn’t realize-“

“That’s alright!” Hailey wraps her arm around y/n. “This girl is the best. She literally hopped on a last minute flight to be here! Can you believe that? I was crushed when she said maybe but ugh she always swoops in last minute saves the day. That’s always been her, back in the day during one of our school dances right, I got caught with…”

Y/n and I lock eyes as the bride babbles on and there. Finally there. The passing look of two people who know what the other is thinking without a single word.

She seems to catch herself and after an intense few seconds and a small smile she composes her face into an unengaged one and jostles Hailey.

“Hailey Harry doesn’t care! I just wanted to get a photo with you and Mik-“

“He’s too bloody busy doing cringe dances-“

“He’s actually having a drink looking for you now but look at this.”

“What?” Hailey’s head swivels around the room as y/n presents her phone with the groom doing a very serious macarena.

“And they say gen z get all the cringe dances,” I comment. Y/n snorts and then covers her mouth, her laugh falling away into a composed expression.

“You know you don’t have to do that,” I say before I can think. A part of me was getting desperate and a little irritated and another felt heartbroken all over again.

“Do what?” She asks as Hailey prances away from us when she spots Michael.

“Be all serious and composed around me. If I’m funny just laugh. My ego could use a lift.”

She stares with a tight lip and cautious eyes.

“You used to laugh the most at my jokes,” I say a bit softer. “Made me feel like the funniest bloke in the room.”

Her eyes lose a bit of their edge but her mouth is still hard-set and a wrinkle forms between her brows. That was new.

“I-I’ve gotta go.” She says. “Gotta get the picture.”

“Right,” I shove my hands in my pockets and watch her go back to the married couple. Right before she reaches them she turns slightly. When she finds me still watching, she jerks back around.

Hope siphons into my chest.

***

“This is the best song!” Abe shouts in my ear as he and the remaining wedding guests belt out Sweet Caroline.

It was late into the wedding party. Much of the older invitees had gone home and kids with their footballs were probably tucked into bed. What remained were Hailey and Michael’s school friends and a few stragglers that were too drunk to want to go home.

“Final song,” the DJ announces. “Time of my Life.”

All night I had been stealing glances at y/n waiting to see if she would come to me. Reciprocate even an ounce of anything I felt. But she hadn’t. She’d gone out of her way to avoid me even when we’d bumped into each other outside the toilets. She’d simply brushed past with a mumble of something I couldn’t make out.

I think what I said to her made her angrier. The anger, and the cold shoulder was new. It makes me feel small.

But I’d had enough drinks by now to feel confident. Enough to walk to where she dances with some friends.

“Y/n.”

She startles and plays it off with a laugh. “What d’you want?”

I motion my head to the side. To talk.

Hesitation makes her eyes weary but she follows after a moment.

Everyone around us sings along to the song. The irony isn’t lost on me.

“What?” She asks.

I stare at her openly, she allows me as she searches my face herself. I grasp at something to start this off with but I’ve had a few drinks myself.

“I used to think you were completely out of my league,” what comes out is a random thought in the speech I’d built up in my head throughout the night.

Her nose wrinkles, “what are you on about Harry?”

“Don’t do that,” I clutch my shirt. “Don’t act like we’re strangers, like we didn’t have something together.”

Her smile falls away, “we had something…like four five years ago. That’s…that’s ages ago Harry. Tell me you’re not still hung up on it?”

Her voice cuts right through me but it’s her gaze that doesn’t quite look at me that gives her away.

“Look me in the eye and tell me I mean nothing to you now,” I cut through the bullshit. It might have been the realization that I’d stayed hung up on this woman for years, sabotaged my love life on the idea I’d find nothing like what we had. And she stood here in front of me now undermining what we had. Making me feel crazy.

She looks me in the eyes, the eyes that haunted me in my dreams.

“I…it was a long time ago Harry.”

“Then why’ve you been avoiding me all night?”

“I haven’t. We’re talking now?”

“So I’m nothing to you?” I ask, hearing the hurt and wishing I didn’t sound so desperate.

“Look. We were young and free and what we had back then doesn’t actually translate to much when you look back as adults.”

“Is that what you tell yourself? So you can freeze away your feelings for what we had?”

She gapes, then turns away with her arms wrapped around herself like the freezing caught up.

“I don’t know what you want.” She finally says.

“I just…” what did I want? “I want to know if you ever think about us. If you have any regrets…if…”

She sighs, “Of course you cross my mind from time to time. But I wouldn’t have regrets. I can see why someone would have regrets, however, after they just let someone they called the love of their life go. Especially when she needed him the most.”

There it was. Her hot anger.

“When you needed…”

“Yeah!” She barely glances at me. “I was scared of leaving and losing you and being alone and all the unknown things. And you left me. You just…said goodbye to us.”

Woah.

Her eyes prick with tears and she turns back to the dancing crowd. The song was winding down and the venue being cleared. I feel the opportunity pass through my fingers.

If I would have known, I would have held her longer. I would never have left her alone. Especially when she needed me the most.

“Y/n,” in a desperate move I grab for her arm and turn her back around. Her lashes are lined with tears, her mouth open in an “o” as she looks up at me. My eyes can’t help themselves as they flicker down to them. This was the closest I came to holding her like before. Her eyes do the same and I feel my heart racing in my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I croak. “For what it’s worth.”

“It’s not worth much,” she says through a watery smile. Trying not to cry; trying to stay composed.

“I’m still in l-“

“Stop,” she puts her hand on top of mind and gently nudges it off her arm. She shakes her head and her hair falls gently to cover her face. “I can’t do this right now Harry. I travelled all this way to celebrate our best friends. But the distance between us was for a reason.”

“It’s been years-“

“Doesn’t change how you left me after I gave you my whole heart. Or the fact that that we ended.”

“I truly an sorry,” I say to her retreating figure.

The shame I feel courses through my body; I couldn’t have known better back then. I was young and stupid and I didn’t realize these types of decisions weren’t to be made lightly. That their repercussions would echo for the rest of my life.

I left her under the cherry tree in the courtyard of the school we’d graduated from. It was late June and it haunted my memories since.

—

Under the skyward branches of the blushing cherry tree, a solemn silence hung in the air. It was the last day of our final year, and emotions swirled between us like the spring breeze.

Y/N stood with her back against the tree trunk, her yearbook clasped tightly to her chest, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. I stood before her, my hands nervously clenched in my pockets, heart heavy with the weight of impending decision.

"I can't believe it's over," y/n murmured, her voice cracking with emotion as she meets my eyes. "Four years went by so fast."

I nod, unable to maintain eye contact. It wasn’t school ending that was making us this sad but what would come of us as I would attend school in the country and y/n out.

This decision weighed heavily on my mind ever since I learned y/n was attending ucla across the ocean—a decision she had made long before we acknowledged our feelings for each other. Now facing the idea of long-distance, I couldn’t shake the fear that everything was changing and things would be different in an unknowable way.

"Yeah," I manage to reply. My voice comes out hoarse, my throat tight with tears I was pushing down. “I'm going to miss this... miss us I…”

Her lower lip trembles, emotions ripple across her features. “Harry god I’m gonna miss us, you…just getting to be together everyday!”

I scrub at my eyes, not wanting to cry right now. She notices and wipes them for me. “You've been my rock through everything this last year."

I take a step towards her, closer. She was the sun and I wanted to bask in her glow, always. Except today wasn’t a bright day, my heart breaks at the sight of the tears streaking her cheeks. “Y/N I…” I try to find the right words but they fail me again. In the meantime a hundred chords play through my mind, deepening the grief I felt.

Suddenly a surge of panic grips me, my blood turns cold like it usually did when I thought about her leaving me. When I consider the depth of what this meant.

Deep down I couldn’t bear the thought of losing y/n but at the same time the unknown was playing at my fears, my anxiety. Imagine a future where she’s thousands of miles away. Everyone I know who talks about long-distance always gets their heart broken…distance never makes relationships stronger.

What if, I think, what if I just rip the bandaid off.

Wouldn’t that be the merciful thing to do? Instead of continuing to a point of no return. I mean what if we try long-distance, y/n creates a life in America, and realizes I was holding her back? What if we end up hating each other?

My brow feels slick and my heart pounds away. I clear my throat.

“I love you y/n.” I tuck her hair behind her ear.

“I love you too,” she whispers.

“After this summer, after you leave-“

“We don’t have to talk about this right now let’s just enjoy now and-“

“How can we?” I finally break. “How can we enjoy now when we know there’s an expiry date to all this!”

“Harry,” y/n grabs my hands. Attempts to soothe my anxiety but I’d passed the point of no return. The words continue to tumble out.

“What if…maybe it’s for the best if we…if we let go now.”

“What?” Shock colours y/n’s face and her eyes fill with tears. “What are you saying Har?”

“I don't want us to... to hurt each other trying to make this work.”

Her mouth hangs open and I can see her heart breaking in front of me. It kills me inside.

“But Har,” her voice grows desperate. “We talked about…we could…we’ll make it work-“

“Y/n,” now my own grows desperate. I wanted to stop talking about this, now that I’d made the decision to let go I wanted to just cut this loose and run away. “We’ll only hurt more.”

Her lower lip trembles and tears coat her bottom lash as she looks up at me through her top lashes. She whispers, “This isn’t fair.”

“I know,” I hang my head. “I’m sorry.”

And I was. I didn’t want to be the one to break us up but what choice did I have? I was doing it as the best case scenario.

Tears spill down y/n’s face and her voice is barely audible over the rustling of the cherry tree, “b-but I love you.”

I close my eyes for a brief moment, the sway of the leaves now roaring in my ears. Or maybe that was just the blood rushing to my face. I feel my heart turn to dust and my entire body aches as the weight of the decision coats me. “I love you too y/n. I love you now and always.”

I clasp her hand and squeeze it. She squeezes back, a sob pulled forth by the contact.

“Y/n…maybe this is how we say goodbye. On our own terms. With space to…to heal.”

Y/n cries harder and I pull her in, tucking her into me because she fit so perfectly in my contours. A part of me couldn’t believe I was doing this, I always imagined our goodbye at a Heathrow terminal under bright lights and linoleum floors.

We both cry into each other but I pull away first, I had to be the stronger one.

“I wish you nothing but the best,” I cup her face. “I…”

I didn’t know how to translate the dust of my heart. I kiss her one last time and then again on her forehead.

With that, I turn away unable to stand in the heartbreak. Every step away from her and the cherry tree feels impossible but I walk away from the girl who was my everything, feeling torn between the love I had for her and the fear of what the future would bring.

—

All I’d been thinking about was myself. About how I’d had friends who tried long distance and how their ending was more brutal than ripping the bandaid off from the get go.

That summer we avoided each other at parties, at our local haunts, and on the day she left I watched her car pull away from my bedroom window and leave forever with a leaden feeling in my heart. That I’d made a big mistake, too big to ever fix.

Tonight was the night I was supposed to set thing right. But things were just getting worse.

***

“After party!” Abe wraps his drunken arm around my shoulder. By then I’d sobered up with a quiet moment off to the side, smoking even though I’d tried to quit ten times in the last month. “I thought you quit that you cheeky bugger!”

“I’m going to,” I squish the cigarette against the wall. “You said after party?”

“After party!!” Ramo hollers coming up from behind. I take in the scene before me, the string lights were having their power cut, most of the tables were wiped clear of cutlery and tablecloths. Just like that the magical night Hailey and Micheal had been planning for months was over. Now they had their whole lives in front of them.

“Har?” Someone snaps a finger in front of my face.

“Huh?”

“Where’d you go?” A group had gathered in front of me, a mix of groomsmen and bridesmaid. Y/n isn’t one of them.

“What?” I ask again. “What’s this about an after party?”

“The party isn’t done,” someone replies.

“Please?!” I hear someone else say off to the side. Now that the music had also turned off it had gotten quieter in the venue.

I turn to the other conversation and see Hailey tugging y/n’s arms, trying to convince her of something. And just like that y/n’s eyes meet mine and something like resignation passes through them.

“-you in?” Michael claps my back and I’m jolted back to the crowd in front of me.

“Yeah,” I assumed they asked me about this after party. “Let’s keep the party going!”

Whooping ensures and everyone trickles out into the parking lot.

“Where is this again?” I ask whoever was closest to me.

“Schoolyard?” Clara answers. “If we don’t get kicked out for loitering that is.”

“We’ll just have to be quiet.”

Clara side eyes me and realizes I’m joking. She huffs a laugh. “It’s like hoping for your 1 year old to go to bed without a tantrum.”

“That’s right,” I suddenly remember. “You had a baby last year. Congrats on that Clara.”

She laughs again, “You’re sweet Harry. Thanks. It’s been a hell of a year but I’m a glutton for punishment because all I can think of is skipping the after party to bury my face in my daughter’s. She’s probably asleep though. I’d wake her up.”

I imagine Clara with her daughter, she was always mothering her friends when I’d hang out with y/n in school. “I can see you being a wonderful mum. Your daughter probably adores you.”

“Not as much as I adore her,” Clara sighs. I chuckle and another laugh comes from the other side of me. I startle to see y/n walking beside me.

How long had she been there? Our eyes meet and the smile she sends me is sweet and innocent. Like that day in school long ago when she walked in on me tinkering away on my guitar and asked me to play something for her.

It throws me off just like it did then. I turn away.

“We’re just gonna walk there!” Someone ahead of us shouts back to the group.

“In these heels?” Someone complains.

“The girls can take a car?” Hailey suggests. So some of the bridesmaids pile into one but Clara and y/n stay with Hailey.

“I’m sensible now,” Clara stretches her heel-less foot out. “Y/n you sure you don’t want the ride?”

“I’ve been dancing without these for the last two hours.” Y/n shrugs. “My feet can handle the walk.”

“Are we betting how long it takes to get kicked out?” I ask the remainder of the crew.

Bets start flying, I bet 40 minutes.

“D’you think the cherry tree is still there? That was probably the loveliest bit of our school every spring.” Clara asks. “I haven’t been back in ages.”

“Yeah!” Hailey pipes in. “We did some of our photos there when we did save the dates. We ended up using the ones at the garden though.”

I glance at y/n, I can’t help it. She has the same idea because she looks at me too. I didn’t understand what was happening tonight. I’d nearly given up on reconciling but here she was suddenly giving me softened looks, her hard edges dulling down enough for me to bump into her shoulder and try joking.

“Don’t get any ideas.”

“What?” She balks. “Ideas?!”

“Hey Har,” Hailey turns to me. “D’you still play? That guitar remembers guys? He was always playing that thing.”

I avoid y/n’s gaze now.

“Not really.”

“Harry’s a tight-ass finance bloke now,” Ramo says for me. “That creative spirit died after he and a little somebody-“

“I’m not,” I cut Ramo off knowing he was going to say something that would make all of us awkward. I continue to avoid y/n’s attention. “A tight-ass finance bloke. I like to think I’m a fine-ass finance bloke. And it’s because I just don’t get the time these days.”

“You were so good,” comes y/n’s thoughtful commentary.

“He was wasn’t he?!” Hailey continues. “Thought I’d see you on TV or something. That show with the contestants? I always thought if anyone from school went on there it’d be Harry.”

“Thanks Hailey,” I’m uncomfortable under everyone’s scrutiny. And the way Abe keeps wriggling his eyebrows at me and tilting his head to y/n.

By now we’ve reached the school grounds and watch as the rest of the girls scramble out of the car. I spot the cherry tree on the far side, no longer in bloom and smaller than I remember.

There’s a buzz about the group, like being together all these years later in the schoolyard brings with it some life-changing magic. Like time’s worn thin tonight and we can almost reach out and touch our school selves.

“Hailey and Michael!!” Ramo shouts incredibly loud. My 40 minute bet shrinks to 20. “Official Mr. And Mrs!! Let’s fucking go!!!”

They all take off down the field, open bottles dangling from their hands, jackets and gowns flying in the wind as they go.

I take off after them, laughing as a bubble of relief flows up from my lungs. It was just like before, running across the school field with my mates, laughing and shouting random shite into the world.

I glance to my side and y/n’s pumping her legs but falling behind the group. I hold out my hand without thinking but she comes to a full stop. So do I.

“These fucking heels.” She peels them off and sighs in relief, tossing them to the side and taking a swig of her wine bottle.

“You might need those later.”

“Fuck those heels!” She shouts louder.

I laugh and hold out my hand, “We’re falling behind. C’mon!”

She grabs it and we run to catch up, and I’m grinning so hard I feel like my cheeks are going to split. This might be an illusion of a moment I could only dream of but I didn’t care. Despite the night sky and nippy air, everything was sunny and golden.

The finish line was the cherry tree at the end of the yard and our friends pile around it, out of breath.

“Jesus I’ve got stitches,” Clara complains. “I’m never doing that again.”

Hailey giggles and wraps her arms around her husband. “I love all of you so much. Thanks for making this day so special.”

We all pour our love back to the couple. Alcohol and conversation begins to flow around the group and eventually I find y/n sitting beside me tugging at the grass.

“So you really don’t play anymore?” She asks softly after a while.

Her eyes are round and inquisitive as she asks, and I could drown in them. I think of everything I could tell her about not playing—how it made me think of her, how it hurt too much to play after a while, how that part of me was dead and I didn’t like to dredge it up anymore.

Instead I shake my head and leave it hanging, staring down into my lap.

“Why?” She whispers, edging closer to me so that our knees nearly touch. I wonder if she notices or if it even matters.

Again I think of all the reasons and my eyes fill with tears as I do. I’d shut away so much of myself because I had too much love for y/n that couldn’t go anywhere. I’d shut the love away and myself as well.

She taps my knee and I look up, her eyebrows scrunch together when she notices the tears.

“You were supposed to do big things with that guitar of yours,” she whispers to me. And it sounds exactly like something she would have said to me all those years ago. It’s too much. I take the bottle of wine sitting beside her and take a swig. She watches me with concern.

“Music,” I clear my throat when my voice comes out hoarse. “Music didn’t really hold the same magic afterwards. After we…I stopped…speaking in it.”

“Well fuck. That makes me really sad.”

“It’s alright—numbers became my new language.”

“How depressing!”

I laugh and cut myself short when it nearly turns into a sob.

I was sitting with y/n after all these years, under the cherry tree, and she was farther away than ever.

“I’m sorry,” I say again. “For being a chicken. Leaving before you left me. Then I just watched you go.”

Y/n opens her mouth and closes it after a second. Voices from the group drift over to us, Michael discussing honeymoon plans, Clara showing Dinis photos of her daughter, someone talking about a teacher we all hated.

“That was really sweet what you said to Clara earlier,” y/n says. It’s so random it takes me a second to recall.

“Oh yeah. Well she was always fussing over your friends like a mum. At least whenever I hung out with all of you.”

“She did. Makes sense she’s the first of us to be a mum. Although it wasn’t really planned—I’m really glad it turned out like this for her in the end.”

I nod, unsure where this was going.

“Har I-“ y/n’s voice sticks and she quiets again. It kills me to wait instead of telling her to spit it out.

“Y/n,” I say gently when she presses her lips together and doesn’t speak. I nudge her knee this time. “What?”

Our eyes meet and a galaxy of things rush between us. Memories, like distant stars, flicker with joy and pain. We’re caught between them—caught in the gravitational pull of the past and the very solid present of each other.

“I…I was hurting so bad after. After you said-after we broke up. I forgot you were probably hurting too. That the hurt could have always lingered too.” Y/n admits.

I forget to breathe as a constellation of emotions pools in our eyes, an ache from the unspoken admission that maybe we had missed each other all of this time.

“We were so young,” y/n continues. She picks at the grass. I imagine it helps feel in controls amidst the emotional storm happening between us.

“We were.”

“So free,” she laughs a little.

“Yeah. Too free. I don’t think I realized what I wanted until it was too late.”

“You had the whole summer,” the soft accusation cuts deep. I feel the gravity of how much it affected her.

“I was so scared of the hurt I…”

“Yet we hurt anyway.”

Those four words suck the oxygen out of my lungs, I couldn’t respond even if I wanted to.

We sit in another silence, I think about the version of us that didn’t leave the cherry tree separately. The version that kept holding on.

Maybe there could be a version of us that comes back to the cherry tree and leaves together this time. That thought spurs me into action.

I stand and brush the grass off my pants. Y/n watches me with a confused expression.

I hold my hand out to her for the second time that evening.

“Dance with me under the cherry tree?”

She flushes as our friends quiet down. But she grips my hand and I pull her up towards me.

“Really?” She whispers.

“Where’s the music?” One of our friends asks and as we begin our slow dance a phone breaks out in a slow number. It makes y/n giggle.

“This is incredibly cheesy.”

“Just embrace it.” I tell her. “The last time we were here-“

“We don’t have to keep talking about it,” she looks up at me. “It was so long ago. We can’t change the past. We really were young and we just have to-“

“Y/n,” I cut her off. “We were young but our love was real.”

This leaves her speechless. She simply furrows her brows and blinks away whatever emotion it pulls forth. And with her arms locked tightly behind me and my arms on her waist, we continue to sway. A quiet yearning defying time and distance fills the space between us; even as I pull her flush against me and she buries her face in my neck.

“That’s more like it,” I can hear Abe say in the back with a whistle before everyone laughs and goes back to chattering.

“So,” y/n says softly after a while. “When I blew you off at the wedding you were going to say something.”

I hardly remember. I was going to say a lot and I was probably a few drinks in.

“I lied.” She continues. “I tried to forget about you. I held onto the anger so I wouldn’t hurt when I thought about you. Then I looked you up every once in a while expecting some musical thing attached to your name but I never did see anything—now I know why.”

“Yeah,” I chuckle.

“So you really stopped after we broke up?”

“Yes,” I say again. “I tried that summer but everything sounded like…like a donkey trying to sing. I gave up on it ever sounding good again.”

“That’s a shame Harry,” she says and I know she means it but I don’t want to focus on me.

“So you looked me up did you?”

“Don’t start on that,” she flushes. I drop it but not the smile on my face. She notices and buries her face into my shoulder.

We continue swaying to whatever song was queued on our friends’ phone. It feels like we’re all 17 again and staying up later than our parents would like. It felt like we were all young and free, not 20-somethings sitting around our married friends.

“I can’t believe we’re all back here again.” I comment.

“I know. Feels fake. Especially being back here, with you.”

“I hope this is alright?” I pause but y/n tightens her grip.

“It is. Y’know no matter how many people filled the space after you.” Y/n says. “It was never you.”

My breath catches. Was she saying-

“Incoming!” Someone shouts and before I can ask where the group erupts in chaos. People run every way I’m surprised nobody bumps heads.

“What!?” I say just as a flashlight beam cuts across my face. The police. “Oh fuck! Let’s go!”

I grab y/n’s hand and we run away from whatever authority was stalking towards us with flashlights.

It’s just like the old days.

“Harry!” I hear Thomas yell up ahead and I veer to the right towards it.

“Ow! Shit!” I hear y/n shout behind me before she releases my hand.

“What? What are you doing?!” I rush back to her.

She’s picking a rock out of her foot, behind her the lights grow closer.

“Those fucking heels!” I shout.

“Bad decision!” She tosses another pebble off her foot.

“No time! Get on!”

“What?” She freezes but I turn around and crouch, tugging her arms around me so she can get the hint. She loops her legs around my waist and even though I’m slowed down we somehow make it, laughing and stumbling, towards Thomas and Abe. They wave at us from just beyond the school ground and once we make it in the clear we head back to the venue and our parked cars.

“That was insane,” they gush.

“Felt like the golden years,” I grin.

“The fucking golden years,” they laugh.

“Okay designated drivers,” Michael says when he catches sight of us. “We have to get out of here.”

There’s a final round of bidding the newlyweds adieu and waving them off. I look for y/n once they blink out of sight.

“I came with Jamie,” she wraps her arms around herself.

I take my jacket off and drape it around her. I’m transported to doing the exact same thing after house parties because y/n would complain that a jacket would ruin her outfit and then walk home shivering.

“What if you go home with someone else?” I ask.

“You’ve got a car?”

“No,” I regret not driving myself now. “I came with one of the boys.”

“Shite.”

“Yeah…”

“Where are you staying?” She asks.

“Uhm…I came from my flat. Near Shoreditch.”

“Oh right.” She looks away. “You live in the city…right. I’m staying at my mum’s.”

“That’s not too far. My parents still live down the road from yours.”

“I know,” she smiles. “What if you dropped me home? And I invite you in?”

“Y/n,” I tug her closer. “What’s this you’re suggesting?”

“Staying?”

The sight of her, the feel of her, her scent and her perfect hand on my chest envelop me. I couldn’t say no; I was under her spell.

“That would turn this amazing evening into an amazing weekend.”

“And who knows what comes next,” she whispers as I lean the rest of the way. I want to kiss her.

“I want to kiss you.”

She doesn’t respond. She simply stretches up and presses her lips to mine. My heart collects itself and explodes in an explosion of slime.

She feels the exact same, tastes the same, but the confidence is new. It makes me dizzy. I want her even more.

“Get a fucking room!” Thomas says from behind. “Are you two gonna need a ride or planning on shagging in the bushes over there?”

I flip him off and finish the perfect kiss, using every bit of my willpower as y/n’s hand trails down my neck and back to my chest.

“Go on,” I say without even looking at my friends. “We’ve got an after after party.”

“Gross,” someone grumbles behind us.

“G’night!” Y/n shouts and with our chests heaving we break apart, grab hold of each other’s hands, and begin the walk to her house.

We walk in silence—our hands swinging between us tells you everything you need to know about how we were feeling.

At her front door y/n smiles up at me. It feels like deja vu, standing in her doorway with her looking at me like that. Knowing we were going to her bedroom just to get in bed. Time folds in on itself as I press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m so glad I couldn’t stay angry tonight,” she strokes my face. “I would’ve missed all this.”

“Me too,” I whisper. “I’m glad my mug’s so handsome it wore you down.”

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. “It wasn’t the mug. Although it is even more handsome than the last time I saw it.”

I kiss her, “Mmm then what was it that wore you down?”

“I dunno,” she sighs. “You? Us?”

Us.

“Whatever it was, I’ll make sure to write it a thank you note. Now why don’t you open that door because my hands are not going to stay PG for very long. And I’m pretty sure your mum’s got one of those camera doorbells.”

“Oh god,” she whips around and laughs before slapping a hand to her mouth. “Sorry mum!”

We stifle our laugh and step inside. Deja vu comes rushing at me again at the familiarity of her home.

As we sneak up to her room I think about what y/n said. It was true, even though she couldn’t pinpoint it. Despite how we felt at the beginning of the night it was always going to end this way. Something about us was always meant to come back to each other.

You. Us. Her.

It was always her.

#writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #fic #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #the golden years #joshua bassett #harry styles one shot #harry stylesxreader #second chance romance #lyrics #this was a fun one

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fiapartridge · 2 years ago

Text

different | kent johnson

"maybe this time it'll be different..."

kent johnson x hughes!sister

summary: when kent arrives to the lake house two years after breaking up with y/n hughes, he has so much more planned than wakeboarding with the boys-- he's going to get her back.

warning(s): cursing

a/n: i remembered someone requesting a kj fic so here we are!! it's my first one! so! try not to hate it too much! LOL

Kent hadn’t anticipated coming to the lake house like this: sopping wet from the rain that only seemed to pour when Kent arrived since all the days leading up to this were sunny skies with a chance of nothing– absolutely zero rain, except for the day he showed up. Great.

And to make matters even worse, he hadn’t even been invited to the lake house, turning up unannounced. Luke and the rest of the Hughes’ cut contact with Kent after his and Y/N’s breakup. I mean, he didn’t expect them to take his side or feel some sort of sympathy for him, but he also didn’t know he was gonna lose everyone because of it.

Luke Hughes had invited Kent to the lake house every summer since meeting him, claiming him as the “cool older brother he never had.” (Jack and Quinn had of course taken offense from that, but he was right. Kent was cool.) But when Kent broke up with Y/N after the 2021 draft, making up the excuse of not wanting to “drag her along” while he was busy in the NHL, Luke couldn’t help but be there for his sister. At first, he hadn’t taken sides. Luke wasn’t a part of the relationship, so obviously their friendship would be fine— but once he heard how hurt and worthless she felt, he couldn’t be friends with him. He would never be friends with a person that could make his sister feel that bad about herself.

For months, she wondered what she could’ve possibly done to make him walk out like that, especially on a day that was supposed to be so special. Maybe… maybe she was just a thing to pass the time with until his life really began. She wasn’t meant to be in his life, not the life he planned at least, she was just something that happened— and apparently he wasn’t one for spontaneity.

Until now. As he stands at the door of the Hughes family’s summer home, the memories of spending warm July nights huddled around the small table that sat on the front porch, littered with beer bottles and red solo cups, flooding back to him. Y/N sitting comfortably on his lap, her brothers making gagging noises every time they kissed, his UMich teammates picking her up and running through the house to the backyard, throwing Y/N into the pool and pushing Kent in with her.

They don’t even text him anymore. And he thought that losing them would’ve been the worst part, but they weren’t the people that he told everything to; what he was feeling; how anxious he felt about the future; how excited he was after scoring his first goal at Yost. his frustration over his terrible gameplay the month before the draft, fearing that none of the teams would draft him if they saw how he was playing then. That was all Y/N— and he blew it.

He wasn’t even thinking, he didn’t know what to say, his actions spoke before him as he knocked on the door, hearing the loud chatter on the other side come to a halt. And before he knew it, he was face-to-face with his old teammate, Luke.

Stepping onto the porch and closing the door behind him, Luke’s face couldn’t be mistaken for anything but anger.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Luke spat.

Kent wasn’t expecting a warm welcome, but he also wasn’t expecting a full on war the minute he knocked on the door. He really should’ve thought out his words on the way here.

“I know that everyone in that house hates me,” Luke scoffed, muttering something under his breath as Kent cautiously continued. “But I need to talk to Y/N. I fucked up, I know, and it’s too late, but please. I just need to see her.”

“Even if I told her you were here, I don’t think she’d even want to talk to you.”

Ouch.

“I know you’ll never forgive me for what I did to your sister, and I have no excuse for that, but just— give me one last chance with her. I just want to talk.”

Luke stood there, processing it all. He hated Kent for what he had done. None of the other boys were there to hold Y/N when she would fall asleep with tears in her eyes, they weren’t there when she would stumble into his bed late at night because she didn’t trust herself to be alone in her room, they weren’t there to hear her beat up herself for what had happened, thinking that this whole thing was her fault, that she could’ve prevented this from happening if she was just… better.

But he also remembered how happy Kent made her feel when they were together.

So he gave him a chance. One singular chance.

“Y/N,” Kent froze upon seeing her. She looked so different, yet so the same. She wore her hair down now instead of in messy buns or high ponies, she was taller, and her baby face was gone, her cheeks growing a bit slimmer. She still had that rosy pink complexion that she always carried around with her and she still wore the silver charm bracelet she had when they were together. She was still so beautiful, if not more than when he last saw her.

Her arms were crossed over her chest, closing herself off to him. She looked hesitant, apprehensive. She had spent the first year after their breakup hoping that he would come back and tell her that it was all a big mistake, that he didn’t mean to break up with her, that he was just overwhelmed, that he wanted her back. The second year, she accepted it; that he wasn’t coming back. So why was she feeling like nothing had changed, that all her progress meant nothing, that she would crumble and go back to the way it was that first year, hoping he’d make his way back to her, in her arms, on her lips, in her heart.

For him, she was a mess. That she never grew out of— as much as she wished she would.

“Why are you here, Kent?”

Hearing his full name come out of her mouth was like a dagger to his chest. But he did that. He ruined everything. Did he really have the right to feel bad for himself?

He licked his lips, trying to find his words. Any words, really. “I still care about you, Y/N/N. I never stopped.”

“So why did you throw it all away?” she asked, poking her finger at his chest. “And don’t give me the bullshit excuse of ‘dragging me along’ because you were three fucking hours away! That wouldn’t have changed anything!”

“I was stupid, okay!” he shouted back, his voice cracking. “I was overwhelmed, and I was lost, and I knew I wouldn’t be enough for you, that I couldn’t be there, and be the person that you deserved.”

She scoffed, shaking her head. This is not how she thought seeing him again would go. “Did you think you couldn’t have told me? That I wouldn’t understand? We could’ve worked through it! We could’ve been together through it all! We could’ve seen if it really was gonna work or not! But you didn’t even want to give us a chance.”

Backing away, her hand fell from his chest, slipping to the door knob behind her. It’s like he was losing her all over again. He couldn’t let that happen, not again.

Holding onto her wrist, he felt her stop in her tracks. Maybe she was just waiting for the right words, and while he didn’t know what the right words were, he decided to jump off the deep end nonetheless.

“My biggest regret was walking away from you, Y/N. And I know this means nothing, that I put you through so much that you didn’t deserve, and you can hate me all you want, tell me to leave and I’ll go, but please— please just hear me out.”

Her forehead rested against the door. “Five minutes,” she mumbled before spinning around. “You have five minutes to talk.”

Kent didn’t waste a single second. “I’m still in love with you. I’ve been trying to convince myself that I’m not, but you mean the world to me, Y/N, and I shouldn’t have let that go, let us go, let you go. And if you give me another chance,” she pulled her wrist away from him, his chest speeding up. Please don’t go. “I won’t make the same mistake again. And I know that you’re scared, that we might end up doing this whole shit storm all over again, and I can’t promise that we won’t, but if you just give me a chance, just one chance, maybe this time it’ll be different.”

Kent’s words hung in the air as Y/N stood there, listening to his earnest plea. The rush of memories and emotions hit her like a tidal wave. The wounds of their breakup were still there, scars etched into her skin, a reminder of him every time she went to Yost and he wasn’t there, or when she would stalk his Instagram, swearing to her friends that she would block him this time, yet she always failed.

She had spent so much time convincing herself that she was better off without him, that she could thrive on her own, but as he stood there, telling her the one thing she wished she heard from him years ago, that he still loved her, she wasn’t so sure anymore.

Her brows narrowed, her bottom lip stuck between her teeth. “Why should I believe you?”

“You can’t. But, Y/N, I have spent the past two years regretting everything, and wishing you were beside me. After my first game, I looked into the stands and when you weren’t there, I… I knew I fucked up, that you were the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that I’ve never been as happy as I was with you. And you can choose to not believe me when I say that I won’t walk out on us again, but please just think about it. Please.”

Y/N’s head was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. She was torn between the fear of getting hurt again and the desire to give him another chance. Kent’s sincerity was real and honest, but could she really trust him not to run away when things got tough?

“No more running away. No more not talking about things. If we want this to work, I need to trust you again.”

“I’m not leaving. It’s you, you’re all I need,” he said, laying his forehead against hers. “I’ll do my best to show you I’ve changed, just make me yours again.”

In that moment, with their hearts racing and their emotions raw, Y/N’s gaze locked onto Kent’s nervous eyes. There was a certain vulnerability in his expression that echoed her own, and her mind battled between caution and the undeniable pull she still felt towards him. She’d felt that pull the second she saw him on the porch. It wasn’t something that could just go away, and in that moment, she was grateful for that.

As Kent’s fingers gently brushed against her cheek, Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine. His touch was gentle, hesitant, as if he feared shattering the fragile bridge they were building between them.

Y/N’s breath caught as Kent’s lips descended upon hers, a soft press that held a world of unspoken promises. It was a tentative kiss, a meeting of lips that carried the weight of the aching past, the hope that they could fix what was broken, and the need for his lips since the moment they broke up.

The kiss deepened, a slow progression that was both hesitant and passionate. Kent’s arms encircled Y/N, pulling her closer as her fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt, her heart racing as she surrendered to the kiss, allowing herself to be enveloped by the flood of emotions that came with it.

Their lips moved against each other with a tender intensity, as if they were trying to convey all the unspoken words and emotions that had accumulated during their time apart. In that moment, the world around them seemed to fade, the rain stopped, the muffled voices on the other side of the door were gone— it was just them.

When they finally pulled away, their breaths were mingled, their foreheads resting against each other. Y/N’s eyes met Kent’s once again, and she could see the genuine regret and love he still had for her. She knew he hadn’t seen anyone for the past two years, Blanks liked to remind her of that everytime he tried to get them back together.

“I’m not leaving,” Kent whispered, his voice laced with sincerity. “I meant what I said, Y/N. You’re all I need, and I’m here to prove it. This time, it’ll be different.”

#kent johnson #columbus blue jackets #umich imagine #kent johnson x hughes!sister #kent johnson imagine #kent johnson imagines #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fic #different joshua bassett #joshua bassett

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perfectlywrongformend3s · 11 months ago

Text

Shark Week-Joshua Bassett

(not my gif)

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting, I would love to write this one for you. I will be more then happy to write about Joshua cause I love him so much.

Taglist: @justagirl22

-Samantha

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV

I was in the kitchen making cookies when I got this sharp pain in my stomach. I steadied myself with the counter. When I felt good to move I walked right to the bathroom to see if my monthly visiter came and I was right. I looked around to find a my things for it, when I found them I noticed I was low on pads. I sighed but quickly finished in the bathroom and walked back to the kitchen to try and finish baking.

I kept feeling sharp pains which were bothering me, but I kept pushing through it.

Joshua's POV

I was in the studio today recording for my new album. I was taking a small break at the moment and couldn't help, but think of Y/n/n.

" Josh 10 more minutes than back to work." the producer said

I nodded and went through my socials until then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was officially done recording for the day, which means I was able to go home to Y/n. I got to my car and started it and drove.

Your POV

I finished baking half the cookie dough when I got more intense cramps making me stop all together. I moved to the couch and curled up to help my stomach pain. All I could think about was Josh and wishing he was here with me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I finally heard the door open after an hour of silence. I then heard his calming voice.

" I'm home...did you make something?" he questioned

I just hummed in response. I had my eyes squeezed shut feeling another strike of pain hit me. I heard his footsteps coming over to the living room.

" You okay..." he asked with concern

I opened my eyes. " Just cramps." I whispered

He nodded walking closer to me. He sat next to me and said, " Need anything, baby." Pulling Me into his side while rubbing my arm. "I'm running low on pads, maybe some chocolate." I whispered

He let out a small chuckle. " Anything for you, love. But before I run to the store, why don't I run you a warm bath."

I looked up at him. " Really, you would do that." I said softly

" Of course, anything to make my girl happy." He said kissing the side of my head before standing up to set up my bath.

Joshua's POV I walked into the bathroom getting out some relaxing things to put in her bath. I made sure the water was warm enough for her. I light some candles, put her water bottle and one of her books on the tray lying a crossed the tub. I then walked back to the living room to grab her.

" Are you ready?" I questioned

She smiled and nodded reaching for my out stretched hand. I helped her off the couch and led her into the bathroom.

" Josh..." She whispered when she saw it

I was gonna say something, but she interrupted me. " You didn't have to do all this." I could hear her voice crack. " Baby, don't cry...I just wanted you to be comfortable." I said pulling her into me

I rubbed her back and let her to get her emotions out. She pulled away after a couple seconds to look back at the scene.

" It's all for you..." I said gently taking her phone from her pocket to play her music on low. She turned to face me, " Thank you..." She whispered giving me a soft smile.

" You're welcome, before I head to the store, do you need anything else?" I questioned her

She fiddled with her fingers before asking. " Maybe some of the cookies that are ready." I smiled, " Anything for you angel."

I walked out of the room to grab her some cookies.

Your POV

I watched him leave before I then stripped and got into the bath carefully. I let out a soft sigh of relief. I heard a chuckle, and turned my head to find Josh walking back in. " I see you are already feeling better." He said placing my plate of cookies down. " Well it feels good on my muscles." I said

He smiled and kneeled down. " I bet, okay I'll be back." He said giving me a kiss

I smiled and nodded, kissing back. I watched him leave a second time before sinking more into the water to relax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joshua's POV

It took me an hour to get back to the house due to LA traffic. I walked up to our door and opened it. When I walked in it was eerie quiet again.

" Babe..." I said walking to set the bags down on the kitchen counter. I headed to the bathroom forty only to find it empty making me nervous. I walked into our bedroom next to find her curled up to her chest. I let out a soft sigh of relief walking over to her. I rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. She stirred some before her eyes fluttered open.

" Josh..." She whispered

I moved to sit against the headboard. " It's me Y/n/n." I softly said

She smiled and rolled over to rest her head on my chest making me smile. " Does you stomach still hurt?" I questioned with a little bit of concern

She snuggled into me a little more making me pull her closer. " A little bit." She whispered

I nodded and moved my hand over to her stomach and started making little circles hoping to ease the pain some. I heard her let out a sigh of relief. " Does that feel good?" I questioned

She hummed in agreement making me continue to do the small motion so she could keep the happy smile. I also pecked her head a couple times just to see her cuddle into me more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I really hope you like this one. I actually really love how this one turned out. I just didn't know how to end it so I hope the ending was okay. Thank you for the lovely request again.

-Samantha

#joshua basset x reader #mine #fluff #joshua basset imagine #joshua basset #Joshua Bassett x #Joshua Bassett x you #Joshua Bassett x y/n #requested #Joshua Bassett fic #Joshua Bassett fanfic #Joshua Bassett one shot

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alisonwritesimagines · 9 months ago

Text

Different ~Simon Riley Imagine~

Summary: You and Simon stay connected for the sake of your son. But events eventually lead you two back together in a way you both didn't expect.

Author’s Note: I've had this in my drafts and I was debating if I should release it or not. So I decided to free it from the drafts.

Based on the song Different by Joshua Bassett

Part One

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: character deaths, spoilers for Modern Warfare 3

Do not repost this anywhere!

Simon wishes he could hate Mitch. In a messed up way he desperately wants to hate him. But he can’t.

He’s a perfect step father to his son and an amazing father to your daughters, he’s the perfect husband, and he’s able to be home with you without making you worry if he was going to come back dead or alive. Mitch is what Simon wishes he was for you.

Ever since Simon found out about his son, he wanted to get to know him. He didn’t never wanted to be like his father. He wanted to be better. So whenever he had the chance, Simon would go see his son.

“Did you see that soccer game the other day?” Mitch asked Simon.

“You mean football?”

“Right right. I forget you Brits call it football.”

“Makes more sense doesn’t it?” Simon asked.

“I guess in a sense.”

It was Levi’s birthday and Simon and Johnny came over to America to visit and celebrate. Levi was officially 8 years old and was now an older brother to two sisters.

“When do you guys plan on coming to visit again?” Simon asked.

“We’re thinking the summer. Might take the kids to Disneyland Paris this time too,” Mitch tells him.

“They’ll enjoy that.”

“How are you and Johnny?” Mitch asked him. The best thing about Mitch, he was never the one to judge. Sure he was upset at Simon for cheating on you but you had told Mitch that you had forgiven Simon and Mitch trusts your judgement.

“Good. Good.”

“Okay boys. I am in need to help now,” you say as you carried your youngest.

“I got her babe,” Mitch said before putting his drink down and taking his youngest daughter in his arms. “You can hang out with me and Uncle Simon.”

“Thank you darling,” you say before giving him a quick kiss.

It always stung in Simon’s heart when you kissed Mitch. It’s selfish of him to think this way but there was always a part of him that wanted you back even after all this time. It was wrong to think this way but he knew he would always love you. Even if he did love Johnny.

After the party, Simon and Johnny helped you and Mitch clean up.

“You know you guys don’t have to stay behind to help clean right?” You asked.

“You did more than enough for today and with planning all this. Go relax,” Simon tells you.

“But-“

“We got this Bonnie. It’s the least we can do for you,” Johnny tells you. You let out a sigh in defeat before walking over to your daughters.

“Okay girls! Bath time,” you say. You picked up your two girls before walking upstairs to get them cleaned. Simon watched with a sad smile as you kissed the top of your daughters’ heads.

—

Simon came straight to you after the worst mission he had ever been on.

You gave Simon a hug the moment he told you the news. Johnny was gone. Killed in action. The last time you saw him heartbroken was when you found out about him and Johnny and you had called him Ghost.

“Anything we can do for you?” You asked him.

“I just need something to distract myself,” Simon tells you.

“Levi has a soccer game tomorrow if you want to join us,” you tell him.

“Yes please.”

“How long have you been grieving?”

“I think long enough.”

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head.

“What-“

“You loved him Simon. It’s okay to be in grief for a long time,” you tell him. Simon hugged you again, not wanting to let you go.

“Thank you.”

“I’m here for you.”

—

Soon, it was Simon’s turn to comfort you. You had lost Mitch in a car accident when he was coming back from work one night. Simon made sure the kids were fed and taken care of while trying to help keep you fed and alive.

“I’m here for you love. I always will be,” Simon tells you. You cried into his chest, passing out from exhaustion on the couch in his arms only an hour later.

Simon was no longer in SAS but he did help with training new recruits after capturing and killing Makrov. Not as dangerous as before but he still had a steady job and was able to take care of you and the kids.

“What if we go out tomorrow night?” Simon asked you one night. It had been five months since he had been helping you with your kids.

“What do you mean?” You asked as you were cleaning up your kitchen.

“Just you and me. We can go see a movie or grab dinner together?” Simon suggested.

“Would this be a date?” You asked him with a look.

“No. More of a hang out,” Simon tells you.

“Okay,” you say unconvinced.

“I don’t want to force you into anything. I’m letting things go slow,” Simon tells you. You nodded before beginning to do the dishes.

Levi had reached the age where he was finally old enough to know that Simon was his biological father. You and Simon had sat Levi at the table before telling him the news.

“Do you have any questions for us?” You asked Levi as you sat across from him.

“Why did you leave him?” Levi asked you as he glared at Simon.

“Because he fell in love with someone else.”

“And why are you with him now? Aren’t you afraid he’ll hurt you again? This is bullshit,” Levi said angrily.

“Language,” you warn.

“So you hurt her, let her marry someone else, and once he’s gone you just think you can come back into her life like that?” Levi yelled at Simon who had been silent since the conversation started. He knew that Levi would be mad at him. He knew Levi would be angry. And he didn’t mine because he knew that this would be upsetting.

“Levi, I know I hurt her. I should have never hurt her but I did. We’re going through couples therapy together and it’s been helping us. Your mother has forgiven me enough for me to be back into her life,” Simon explains to him.

“What do I even call you now? My dad is dead and my whole life I’ve only seen you as Uncle Simon. Do you expect me to call you dad now?” Levi asked, still angry at the news.

“You can call me whatever makes you comfortable right now. I don’t expect you or your sisters to accept me now but I am here for you three and your mother,” Simon tells him.

Levi shook his head before getting up and heading towards his room. You looked at Simon with a sad look.

“Do you think we did the right thing?” You asked.

“Yes. He’s old enough now and he just needs to get use to it. It’s better to tell him now than later,” Simon tells you. You nodded before looking at a picture of the wall with you and Mitch.

“I wonder what it would’ve been like if Mitch was still around.”

“Could be the same reaction,” Simon tells you before placing his hand on yours.

—

The girls loved Simon on the other hand. They loved it whenever he caved into their games and how he would let them put makeup or nail polish on him. Mitch took care of Levi and now, Simon was returning the favor in protecting and caring for Mitch’s daughters.

“Uncle Simon?” Your youngest asked Simon one day.

“Yes?”

“How come I can’t see my daddy anymore?” Macy asked him.

“You’ll be able to see him again. Just not now. He’s somewhere where we can’t touch or see but one day in the long future, you’ll see him again,” Simon told her.

He loved the girls. He would protect them no matter what and was always weak whenever they would give him puppy eyes when you say no to them. Simon knew they weren't his daughters, but he can be the best father figure they needed as they grew up.

“Will you ever leave us?” Macy asked him.

“No. Not unless you tell me to leave you,” Simon tells her.

“I don’t want you to leave us,” Macy said as she hugged him.

“Then I won’t leave,” Simon said, hugging her back.

—

Simon had waited this for a long time. To see you in a white dress, walking to him, and saying your vows together. Even if it was in a courtroom with just your kids, your parents, Price, Laswell, and Gaz to witness you two. It was perfect for him.

So here you two are, having dinner with everyone at your favorite restaurant with close friends and family who you wanted at the reception. Neither you or Simon cared for a big fancy wedding. You had already gotten your dream wedding with Mitch and Simon wanted to keep things lowkey. So you both agreed for a courthouse wedding then dinner at your favorite place.

“Proud of you,” Price told Simon as he patted his back. The two were drinking a beer as you talked to Laswell and Gaz.

“Thanks.”

“I know Johnny would’ve been happy for you too.”

“He would’ve enjoyed this,” Simon added.

“She’s a good woman, Simon. Make sure you keep her this time.”

“I will.”

“Hey. Um dad?” Levi asked Simon awkwardly. Levi still had conflicted feelings in called Simon dad after calling him Uncle Simon for so long. But he eventually accepted the fact that Simon was his biological father.

“Yeah kid?”

“Mom wants to know if you wanna do the cake now,” Levi asked.

“Tell her yes. We can do the cake,” Simon told his son. Levi nodded before going back to you.

Simon walked over to you before wrapping his arms around your waist. Your mom brought out the cake for you two before she took a couple pictures of you both and then with you two and the kids.

"To Mr. and Mrs. Riley. We wish you two nothing but happiness," John said as he raised his drink.

"Thank you all for being here with us," you say before you and Simon cut the cake for everyone.

After your reception, your parents took the kids to watch them over the weekend while you and Simon got to enjoy the honeymoon. Simon and you slow danced in the hotel's garden. The staff didn't want to interrupt you both as you both had a moment alone together.

"Thank you for giving me a second chance," Simon says to you.

"I'm surprised you waited for me."

"You're the only person I'd ever wait for."

"Do you think they're happy for us?" You asked Simon.

"Knowing them, I'm sure Mitch and Johnny would've wanted us happy and safe. No matter what," Simon tells you. You smiled softly up at him before giving him a gentle kiss.

You rested your head on him as you both continued to dance to the music from your phone.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #call of duty #call of duty imagine #call of duty modern warfare #alisonwritesimagines

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kathlare · 11 days ago

Text

that should be me

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: Lando faces the quiet ache of jealousy and the bittersweet realization that feelings he’s tried to keep buried might be more obvious than he thinks.

Wordcount: 3.0 k

Warnings: none

full masterlist // request over here!

June 29th, 2020 - London, United Kingdom

liked by alexleclercfan, ameliedayman.fits, and others

gossipcentral:☕️👀 Spotted: Amelie Dayman and Joshua Bassett seen grabbing lunch together in Maui today — beachy vibes, sunglasses, and a lot of smiles. Are things heating up between the pop princess and the High School Musical heartthrob? Or just a casual island hang? 🌴😎

View all 36,018 comments

ameliedayman.fits: i just KNOW lando is pacing his hotel room rn → maxyboyf1: @ameliedayman.fits bro is halfway to writing driver era: the musical

isthatlando: imagine being joshua bassett and having to sit across from her in that top and not combust → gridgirlie69: @isthatlando better men have tried and failed. cough. norris. cough.

gridgirlies: what does joshua have that lando doesn’t besides heartbreak lore and a piano 😐 → mclarenwife: @gridgirlies trauma bonding is crazy

daymangravity: idk joshua is cute but like... lando was THERE during her breakdown era → tifositerror: @daymangravity he earned the final rose fr → monacogf: @daymangravity not this turning into The Bachelor: Paddock Edition

ameliesglow: if she’s happy i’m happy (but also pls go home to lando immediately) → f1barbiedoll: @ameliesglow she’s just doing hot girl tourism leave her alone → quadrantwife: @ameliesglow until she posts a soft launch, i’m pretending this didn’t happen

lanfan44: joshua basset i fear you are simply the prelude to a lando-shaped heartbreak → alexleclercfan: @lanfan44 NOT THE PRELUDE 😭😭

daymanfan999: she’s just doing what any of us would do if joshua bassett AND lando norris were in love with us → quadgirlie: @daymanfan999 i wouldn’t survive a day in her shoes. she’s living fanfiction

amelie4president: they’re cute but my delulu heart only beats for lanmelie

lanmelieupdates: joshua bassett is cute or whatever but lando norris exists. be serious. → alexmakesmemelt: @lanmelieupdates we need to bring back arranged marriages and we’ll be arranging hers with lando.

swiftiesinthepits: olivia rodrigo somewhere throwing darts at a photo collage rn → daymansangel: @swiftiesinthepits the crossover episode we didn’t ask for

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

Lando had barely taken a bite of his pasta when he pulled out his phone to mindlessly scroll through Instagram. His lunch break at the MTC had been quiet — too quiet, considering how chaotic his mornings usually were. The McLaren gym was empty, the cafeteria only had a few engineers and mechanics scattered about, all masked up and socially distant. The soft hum of the TV above him played muted Sky Sports replays of classic races, but none of it really held his attention.

Until that post appeared on his feed.

@gossipcentral: ☕️👀 Spotted: Amelie Dayman and Joshua Bassett seen grabbing lunch together in Maui today — beachy vibes, sunglasses, and a lot of smiles. Are things heating up between the pop princess and the High School Musical heartthrob? Or just a casual island hang? 🌴😎

Lando froze.

No.

No fucking way.

His thumb hovered over the screen, and he blinked twice, as if that would somehow make the image disappear.

There they were — Amelie and Joshua. Sitting side by side at some open-air café, Joshua, grinning like a fucking idiot, leaning in way too close. Way too familiar. Her smile didn’t look forced. If anything, it looked... easy. Relaxed. Like she was having a great time.

Lando's jaw clenched, and his fork dropped onto his plate with a quiet clang.

He scrolled back up and stared at the picture again.

What the fuck is he still doing there?

When he and Charles visited Amelie a couple weeks ago — which had been a chaotic blur of surf lessons, inside jokes, and Lando pretending not to trip over his own heartbeat every time she wore a bikini — they’d met Joshua. Briefly. And by briefly, Lando meant just long enough to know he couldn’t fucking stand the guy. The way Joshua had shaken his hand with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. The way he’d looked at Amelie like he knew something Lando didn’t. The way Amelie had laughed at some dumb joke of his and touched his arm without thinking.

Lando had assumed — hoped — that Joshua was flying out the same day they were.

Apparently not.

Lando locked his phone and shoved it face down on the table, running a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots a little harder than necessary.

—What’s up with you?— came Carlos’ voice, cutting through the air like a knife. Lando hadn’t even noticed him sit down.

Carlos plopped his tray next to Lando’s, peeled his mask down under his chin, and raised an eyebrow. —You look like someone just told you you’re starting from the back row in Spa again.—

Lando didn’t answer. He just picked at his pasta like it had personally offended him.

Carlos tilted his head, suspicious. —What? You lose a bet? Miss a sim session? Someone steal your driver room snacks again?—

Lando gave him a withering look. —No.—

Carlos leaned over, eyeing Lando’s face for a moment before his gaze flicked to the phone. He snatched it up with zero shame.

—Hey...—

—Relax.— He unlocked it with ease, Lando hadn’t even bothered to close Instagram, and Carlos’ face lit up like it was Christmas. —Oh this,— he said with a grin. —Of course. Of course.—

Lando groaned. —Give it back.—

Carlos ignored him. —Joshua Bassett, huh? Isn’t that the guy from that singing show? The one who kept talking about playing guitar on set or some shit?—

Lando gave him a look. —He’s from High School Musical: The Musical: The Series.—

Carlos blinked. —That’s not a real title.—

—It unfortunately is,— Lando muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Carlos let out a bark of laughter, leaning back in his chair like this was the best entertainment he'd had all week. —God, this is beautiful. You’re actually jealous.—

—No, I’m not,— Lando snapped, too fast. Too defensive.

Carlos grinned like he’d just caught Lando in 4K. —You totally are. Look at you. Face all grumpy, stabbing your pasta like it’s Joshua’s kneecap. Come on, mate. Just admit it.—

—I’m not stabbing anything.—

—Right, right.— Carlos twirled his fork dramatically. —You’re just casually committing pasta-based violence while glaring at an Instagram post. Normal Monday behavior.—

Lando exhaled sharply and finally reached for his water. His fingers tapped the plastic cup. —I just... didn’t think he’d still be there. That’s all.—

Carlos quirked an eyebrow. —Why? Thought he had better things to do than hang around Maui with your girl?—

—She’s not my girl.— Lando’s voice dipped lower.

Carlos raised both hands. —Whatever you say, Romeo.—

Lando rolled his eyes. —We’re friends. That’s it. She’s... she’s had a rough year. She deserves to have fun. I'm happy for her.—

—You sound thrilled. Really selling the whole “cool and unbothered” thing here.— Carlos nudged his arm. —Come on, man. You’ve been into her since, what, 2018? Back when she didn’t even know you?— He laughed, like it still amused him to this day. —All of us knew. The moment she followed you back on Instagram, you acted like you’d won a championship.—

—That was a big day,— Lando muttered under his breath, earning another laugh from Carlos.

—Exactly. And now you’re watching her grab lunch with Malibu Ken and you’re ready to throw hands over a tuna poke bowl.—

Lando rubbed his temples. —You didn’t see the way he looked at her. Like... smug. Like he knew she’d pick him.—

Carlos gave him a long look. —And did she?—

Lando stayed silent.

Carlos shrugged. —Then what are you so afraid of?—

Lando didn’t know how to answer that. Because maybe it wasn’t just about Joshua. Maybe it was the fact that Amelie looked happy. And yeah, she deserved that. She deserved to smile again, to laugh without a shadow behind it. After Cam, after Italy, after everything... Lando didn’t want to be selfish.

But damn, it still stung.

Carlos leaned in again, more serious this time. —Look, you don’t have to tell her how you feel if you’re not ready. But don’t sit here acting like you’re fine watching someone else swoop in and get everything you’ve been dreaming about for two years.—

—I’m not dreaming about her,— Lando said weakly.

Carlos just looked at him. —Mate. You rearranged a flight to stay one more day in Maui just because she said she liked the way the light hit the waves at sunset.—

—That was for the vibes.—

Carlos snorted. —Sure. Vibes and a girl in a sundress who doesn’t know you’ve got her initials saved in your phone with a heart next to them.—

Lando glared at him. —You’re insufferable.—

—I know.— Carlos grinned, unbothered. —But I’m not wrong.—

Lando sighed, dragging a hand down his face. —It’s just... it’s hard, man. She’s still figuring things out. And I don’t want to be another complication. Especially not after everything with Cam. I feel like she’s finally breathing again, you know?—

Carlos tilted his head. —Yeah. But don’t forget, sometimes the people who help us breathe are the ones who show up and stay. You’re not a complication, Lando. You’re a constant.—

And fuck, if that didn’t hit Lando square in the chest.

He picked up his phone again, looked at the photo one last time, and then finally swiped past it. Out of sight. Sort of out of mind.

Carlos bumped his shoulder. —C’mon. Let’s finish lunch before you spiral so hard you start journaling in a McLaren notebook.—

Lando chuckled despite himself. —You’re such an ass.—

—But a wise one,— Carlos said, shoving a forkful of rice into his mouth. —And hey, if you ever need a wingman, I’ve got years of material on how embarrassing you’ve been about her since day one.—

—Don’t you dare.—

Carlos grinned. —Too late. Already making a PowerPoint.—

Lando groaned. But even as he picked at his food, the edge of his frustration dulled a little. Because yeah, maybe he was still jealous. Maybe he hated Joshua’s smug face and his dumb guitar and his too-white teeth.

But Carlos was right.

He wasn’t just anyone in Amelie’s life.

He was her constant.

And maybe, just maybe, that still meant something.

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

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ameliedayman: isla bonita

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stelladayman: tell hawaii it can keep the trees, we’re stealing the flower 🌼 → ameliedayman: @stelladayman only if you come visit 😌

landonorris: did the palm trees approve this thirst trap or were they just held hostage → ameliedayman: @landonorris they were honored

mcclarensimp: brown bikini supremacy. lando is WEEPING somewhere

elysiadayman: you really posted the bikini one huh. → ameliedayman: it's art

jadenhossler: this is what peace looks like and it’s offensive → ameliedayman: @jadenhossler come visit and ruin it then

f1.sluttycorner: i’m not saying this is a girlfriend post but this is a girlfriend post

lanmeliedelulu: the flower. the tan. the vibes. she’s the reason hawaii exists actually → softie4lando: @lanmeliedelulu imagine being the guy she put behind the camera…… i’d evaporate

joshuabassett: flower girl energy 🌸 → lanmelieupdates: @joshuabassett NOOOOOOOO 🚨🚨🚨 → f1dumbassery: @joshuabassett someone check on lando he’s in danger

lanmelieedits: THE FLOWER IN HER HAIR. SHE’S IN LOVE. IT’S OVER FOR US

gigihadid: top tier vacation aesthetic. obsessed. → lanmeliefanpage69: @gigihadid GIGI SHIPS IT CONFIRMED.

lanmelieupdates: LANDO. STAY CALM. BREATHE. → norrissinner: @lanmelieupdates he’s already liked it 0.2 seconds after it was posted we LOST

georgerussell63: so when do alex and i get to see you irl and not just through thirst traps → alex_albon: @georgerussell63 she’s gatekeeping the entire pacific ocean from us → ameliedayman: @georgerussell63 maybe if you stop bullying me in groupchat 🤨

madisonbeer: unreal. literally not real. → ameliedayman: @madisonbeer i learned from the best 😇

billieeilish: u make this look illegal → ameliedayman: @billieeilish only crime is slaying tbh

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

Lando was in his room, hoodie half-on, curls damp from a post-training shower, headset already snug over his ears. The soft blue glow of his setup lit up his face as OBS counted him in. He glanced at chat — the Twitch crowd was already rowdy.

—Alright, alright, calm down,— he grinned. —Yes, George is late as usual. What else is new?—

—Oi!— George’s voice burst into the stream as he finally joined the Discord call. —I’m fashionably delayed, thank you very much.—

Alex chuckled, already clicking into the Valorant lobby. —More like tragically uncoordinated.—

—You’re just mad I outscored you last match.—

—By one kill!—

—Boys,— Amelie’s voice cut through the bickering like honey and static, teasing and warm. —Behave. You're embarrassing yourselves in front of the entire internet.—

Lando leaned back in his chair, lips twitching. —And we care about that... why exactly?—

—Because I’m here. Duh,— she said, and he could hear her smirk.

The chat lit up like fireworks.

Chapter: Constant Interference

—Alright, alright, calm down,— he grinned. Yes, George is late as usual. What else is new?

—Oi!— George’s voice burst into the stream as he finally joined the Discord call. I’m fashionably delayed, thank you very much.

—More like tragically uncoordinated,— Alex snorted, already clicking into the Valorant lobby.

—You’re just mad I outscored you last match.—

—By one kill!—

—Boys,— Amelie’s voice cut through the bickering like honey and static, teasing and warm. Behave. You're embarrassing yourselves in front of the entire internet.

Lando leaned back in his chair, lips twitching. And we care about that... why exactly?

—Because I’m here. Duh,— she replied, smug and flirty.

The chat lit up like fireworks.

Lando's smile >>>> GEORGE STFU LET LAN AND AMES FLIRT ALEX AND CHARLES LOOKING LIKE THIRD WHEELS JOSHUA WHO????

Charles finally joined with a dramatic sigh. —Bonsoir, losers.—

—Charles, it’s not even 6 PM,— Amelie said through a giggle.

—I was setting the mood. You ruined it.—

—Mood for what? Missing all your shots?— Lando chimed in.

—Wow,— Charles gasped. —Your British hostility is showing.—

The game kicked off, voices layering over each other in perfect, chaotic harmony. George kept accusing Alex of stealing his kills. Charles was being overly French for comedic effect. Amelie was too good at clutching rounds, which only fed into the dramatics. Lando, meanwhile, kept making little jokes just for her — lowkey, but unmistakably fond.

—Nice shot, Ames,— he murmured after she wiped a squad on her own.

—What can I say? I’m multitalented,— she replied sweetly.

But then… there was a knock.

It was faint, but everyone heard it.

—Hold on,— Amelie said quickly, pulling her headset slightly off. —Someone’s at my door.—

Lando sat up slightly, already uneasy.

Her stream cam — dimly lit and mostly focused on her face and shoulders — showed her rushing out of frame. The boys kept playing, but Lando’s attention drifted.

Seconds later, she returned with a small breathless laugh and slid her headset back on. —I’m back, sorry.—

But not alone.

In the blurred background of her cam, a figure flopped onto the edge of her bed. Hoodie, tousled hair, long legs stretched out.

Joshua.

Lando’s jaw tightened.

He knew that silhouette. That irritating, over-relaxed posture. Like he belonged there.

Amelie, bless her, tried to act normal. —Alright, where were we?— she asked, fingers moving across her keyboard again.

But Lando could barely focus on the match. His eyes kept flicking to her cam — to where Joshua was clearly watching her screen, clearly bored. His lips moved, like he was whispering something to her, and she smiled without meaning to.

Chat noticed too.

IS THAT WHO I THINK IT IS who is the guy in ames' room 👀 tell him to GET OUT 😭 lando bout to lose it i swear his face rn... bro's not okay

Amelie kept playing, still tossing out callouts, but she was more distracted now. Laughing quietly at things Joshua said off-mic. Her focus split.

—You alright, Ames?— Lando asked, voice deceptively casual.

She blinked. —Yeah! Just— multitasking.—

Lando let out a dry chuckle. —Right. Didn’t realize we had guests tonight.—

Her eyes flicked to her camera. —Oh, that’s just Josh. He’s bored. He’ll chill.—

But he didn’t.

Within a few minutes, Joshua was nudging her shoulder. Saying something about "just finishing later" and "come watch a movie."

And then she hesitated. Said, "One sec, guys," and muted herself.

Lando leaned back in his chair, jaw clenched tight.

Muted or not, they could still see her talk to Joshua. Could still see her nod, roll her eyes fondly, and finally — finally — sigh like she was giving in.

She unmuted a moment later, her voice soft and apologetic. —Hey, I think I’m gonna head out. But thanks for the game, boys. I’ll catch you soon, yeah?—

George immediately booed.

—What?! You’re ditching us?—

—Mid-match, even? Disgraceful,— Charles added, hand over his heart in mock betrayal.

Alex laughed. —Tell Josh he owes us a rematch.—

Amelie smiled sheepishly. —You’re all so dramatic. Love you. Bye!—

And just like that, she disconnected.

Silence hit the call for a beat.

Lando exhaled, long and sharp. Then leaned forward to reload, trying — and failing — to hide the roll of his eyes.

—So that’s what we’re doing now,— he muttered under his breath, not quite low enough.

Charles caught it. —Oh? Lando? Something to share with the class?—

—Nothing,— Lando said quickly, his voice tight. —Just… must be nice. Being that convincing.— He clicked into the next round, jaw flexing. —Guess all it takes is a pretty face and a guitar, huh?—

George snorted. —Jealousy. Straight up leaking out your mic, bro.—

—I’m fine,— Lando said, too clipped. —Just saying, if I left a stream every time someone wanted to watch a movie with me, I’d never finish a match.— He leaned back with a forced laugh. —But hey, priorities, right?—

No one responded immediately.

The tension crackled quietly over the comms, and the next round started.

Lando’s kill count doubled in two minutes.

Passive aggression made for deadly aim.

And even though he didn’t say another word about it, the tight set of his jaw, the deadpan sarcasm, the refusal to look at chat — it all screamed what he was thinking.

Joshua was still in Maui.

Still around her.

Still taking time that Lando desperately wished belonged to him.

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