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heartbreakgrill · 4 years

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Love Song; Corbyn Besson

description: yeah just some good ol’ friends to lovers 😋

Your face clenched up as the nurse swabbed your nose. The urge to sneeze came over when she tugged it out, and you quickly pulled up your mask. After a round of watery eyes and the oddest facial expression, the sneeze subsided.

“Thank you,” you told her, a laugh dancing at the edge of you tone.

Her eyes crinkled, showing the smile beneath her mask. “You’re welcome. It’ll just be a minute.”

You stood from the chair, plopping down beside Zach on the couch. He was playing on his phone, but looked up when he noticed your presence.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” He watched your hand rub at your nose over the mask.

“Uh, yeah,” you chuckled.

Zach went back to his phone and you unlocked your own, crossing a leg over the other. Soon, his name was called and he snapped off his mask. Negative.

Daniel replaced Zach in the seat beside you. You bid him hello and he said, “Hey. How are you today?”

“Was doing fine before I had to have a stick in my nose,” you giggled.

Daniel laughed as well. “Yeah, but whatever we have to do to get to celebrate.”

“New normal,” you nodded.

“Y/N!” The other nurse called out from her clipboard.

You flashed your eyebrows at Daniel and stood from the couch. Slipping your phone into your butt pocket, you walked over to the table.

“You are negative, my dear. We’re having everyone who has already been tested to stay in the kitchen.”

You took the packet of your information from the nurse, thanked them again, and joined Zach, Corbyn, and Christian in the kitchen. You slipped the pink mask in your jean jacket pocket as you took the empty bar stool next to Christian.

“Hey, guys,” you greeted.

Corbyn perked up at the sound of your voice, peaking up from his phone. He was directly across from you, leaning his chin against the ball of his palm. You glanced around at the boys, meeting his eyes over the top of his phone.

“Hey, Y/N, when did you get here?” Christian spoke, drawing your eyes away from Corbyn.

You cleared your throat and folded your hands in your lap. They were clammy now, budding heat throughout your face. His eyes.

“Like ten minutes ago. I said I was here in the group chat,” you reminded Christian.

He shrugged, “I don’t really pay attention.”

“Rip,” you laughed.

Zach and Christian went back to their conversation about the album, the only valid topic of interest for the night ahead.

You glanced back over at Corbyn, who had shifted so he could pretend like he hadn’t blushed at your presence. You sat there for a moment, contemplating saying anything at all. Ultimately you settled on tugging out your phone again.

You leaned on the counter, scrolling through people’s Instagram stories. You swiped past Why Don’t We’s shared page and fell on Corbyn’s. It was a selfie, one he took mere moments before you sat down. You flushed red, eyes gently lifting to take in how he looked right now.

His eyes.

You forced an awkward smile at the awkward eye contact, feeling...awkward.

You looked back down at your phone. It seems everyone of the boy’s friends and family members had posted about the album. Except you. You felt slightly guilty, voicing your concerns to the boys before you. Jonah and Daniel had since joined you guys in the kitchen, talking with Christian and Zach.

“No worries, Y/N. I mean, you’re here,” Jonah shrugged it off.

Zach added, “Yeah, but if you wanna post something go ahead.

“Why don’t we just take a selfie or something?” Daniel suggested, tipping his water bottle towards the phone in your hand.

“Oh, yeah. That’s good. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really want you guys to get number 1 on the charts,” you grinned sheepishly.

Jack appeared beside you, slinging on arm around your shoulder. You noticed Corbyn shift again, gulping and eyeing Jack’s arm.

“Oh, we will, Y/N, we will,” he winked at you.

You laughed loudly at his expression. “I believe in you, Jack Avery.”

He squeezed your shoulder. Everybody moved to stand around you, Corbyn ending up too far away. You tried to see where it was he was standing, just because you felt comfortable being able to see him, seeing you. But you couldn’t.

You were attempting to hold the phone out far enough to get everyone in frame, but your arm wasn’t long enough. Everybody laughed at your struggle. Jonah took the phone from you and angled it at the group. He snapped the photo and everyone dispersed.

Jonah ended up in the seat across from you, Zach next to him where he had been. Daniel, Jack, and Christian decided to start pouring drinks, since it was nearing 11 pm. Corbyn stood there for a minute, contemplating running off the edge of the world.

He settled in the seat beside you which drew your attention from your phone. You had been captioning the Instagram post, struggling to come up with something interesting.

“Hey, Corbyn,” you weakly smiled.

He smiled. “Hey.” His voice made your knees weak.

You flashed the screen at him, pushing down the red blush willing itself to paint your face. “What do you think I should caption it?”

“I don’t know,” he let out a breathy laugh, “uh, maybe a joke. Like, track 4 was written about me.”

You shared a laugh with him, happy nothing felt stuffed of weird energy for even a mere few minutes of conversation.

“That would be really funny, but probably cause some drama. How about, like, ‘dibs on Love Song?’ Because I genuinely feel like that ones gonna be so good.”

Corbyn gulped, “I wrote that one with Daniel.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “Then, I call it.”

Red cheeks all around.

You quickly posted it. Soon, the room was engulfed with music, the 3 singles the boys had released filling the air. There was a single camera on the band, standing around the kitchen island you had once been sitting at.

You stood to the side with Anna and Kay, a glass of champagne in your hand. You had since abandoned your Jean jacket, revealing the flowery, thin strapped corset that left your midrif out in the open. You felt really hot, be it because of the outfit, your sparse interactions with Corbyn, or the alcohol beginning to take hold of your bones.

See, there was something there with Corbyn, something nobody really even knew about. In fact, you didn’t even know if Corbyn himself remembered.

You had been good friends with the entire band since they moved to LA, attending concerts when you weren’t in school and hanging out constantly. Of course, as any pathetic pining story went, you’d been in love with Corbyn since you’d met him, but his heart had always belonged to Christina.

When you discovered they broke up, you felt elated for half a second. Then, he called you in tears.

“I know we’re not expectionally close, but I need somebody. The guys, they just don’t understand.l

Since that moment, you guys had been attached at the hip. Quarantine had been boring at first, terrifying, even. But, then you’d begun to spend every waking moment with Corbyn. You were the one who suggested he dye his hair black, had helped him do it. you’d gone with him when the tattoo shops opened again and helped him pick which one looked best. You’d helped them move into their new house, helped Corbyn decorate his new space. Hell, you’d even suggested a song lyric or two when laying on Corbyn’s bed, listening to him across the room on his guitar.

And then, on your birthday a few months ago, you had gotten exceptionally drunk to drown the sorrows of lusting after your best friend. When the clock struck midnight, Corbyn had already hauled down a taxi from the bar, slung your arm around his neck, cradling your waist as he tried to get you inside.

Out of nowhere, the sky began pouring buckets of rain. You fell against his chest, laughing hysterically at the ironically cliche moment. Corbyn somehow nuzzled his nose into your neck, giggling along with your drunken haze.

You pulled back gently, the closeness emitting a fierce confidence in your gut which enabled you to lean up and kiss him. He kissed you back, but when he remembered how drunk you were, he tugged away.

“I can’t do this,” he urged, but you mistook his respect for consent as rejection.

You mumbled, “But I’m in love with you.”

You didn’t remember for a few days after, what had happened that night. All you knew was you had woken up in Corbyn’s bed, his clothes on you, a headache in your head, and your dress soaking wet over the bathtub.

Then, a few days later, when you were perched on Corbyn’s bed, watching an episode of Big Mouth, he made a joke about how, “in love you are with,” him. Your eyes widened, breath hitched, and a memory pulled itself from your brain. You suddenly stood up, his arm dropping to the comforter since it had been around your shoulders.

You made some excuse about homework, though you both knew you had finished your finals the night prior. Since then, neither of you had really spoken at all.

You clenched the champagne glass between your fingers, turning them white from frustration. You felt a hand on your shoulder, turning towards Anna.

“Everything okay?” She glanced between your eyes, noticing the tears welled up there.

You sniffled and blinked the tears away. One dribbled down your cheek. You quickly wiped it away. Anna’s bottom lip jutted out in a pitiful expression and she pulled you into a hug. You wanted to collapse into her, sobbing your way through the album’s release. But, you squeezed your face shut and grabbed the composure that was running away from you.

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom,” you tugged back and set your glass on the table beside you. You quickly strode to the bathroom, shutting it behind you.

You wiped under your eyes with a wet cloth, salvaging your eye makeup. Your eyes were still red, though, red and pupils blown up in a sad countenance.

There was a knock on the door and you tensed up. Daniel’s voice came from the other side of the door, soft and sweet.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

You already knew he had seen you crying on Anna, and probably watched you storm away as quietly as one could when they were this upset. You were taking him away from his night and that made you feel just horrible.

“Yeah,” your voice was weak.

Daniel gently opened the door. He didn’t try to hug you or tell it was going to be okay. Instead, he cradled your face in his head, pushing the hair back from your cheeks.

“I know. You don’t have to explain or try to push me away. I just know. All I can give is the fact that we wrote these songs about our lives. These songs are personal.”

You met his eyes, swimming in the undemanding answers he was laying in front of you. “What do you mean?”

He gave a warm smile, “Corbyn got really good at songwriting. Just listen.”

You hugged Daniel quickly before shutting off the light. He slung his arm around your shoulders, guiding you back to the kitchen. Everyone counted down for midnight and soon enough, the new songs were blasting through the kitchen.

You anticipated Love Song through the entirety of Be Myself, barely paying any attention to the song that you knew Daniel wrote exclusively by himself. Soon, Daniel’s voice was dancing through the speakers in an upbeat rhythm, singing the literal love song.

Right after, Corbyn’s voice came again.

“You came out of nowhere like a hurricane.”

You perked up, holding yourself together with your arms. Daniel caught your eyes and nodded firmly. Your eyes flickered across the room and met Corbyn‘s. He’d been watching you for a while, you settled. Though his band mates and friends were dancing around the kitchen, he was solemnly drinking his own champagne. His hair was damp from the bottle Jonah had cracked open at midnight.

“Pulled me in and kissed me in the rain. And I fell for you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You found his eyes again, your face bright red. An overwhelming grin came over you. Corbyn smiled in response, a dry chuckle shaking his shoulders. He shook his head, finally relieved.

You set down your glass again, tapping Anna on the shoulder. “I’ll be back, k?”

She squeezed your shoulder again, still feeling sympathetic. You looked to Corbyn and nodded towards the back door.

You slipped outside, taking a seat on one of the pool chairs. It was dark outside, only the light from the kitchen washing through the glass sliding doors.

You heard the doors open and close again, looking up from your shoes. You stood up, breathing in deeply. Corbyn stopped in front of you, fingers squeezing each other.

You nervously smiled up at him. “So...” you ached, “so, um, I guess I really did call track 4.”

Corbyn laughed, his hands coming around to your back. He pushed you into his chest, yours going up around his neck.

“Yeah,” his face drew back, “and it was about you.”

You grinned, pursing your lips to try and push it down. But, you were tired of pushing it all down, so you let your lips widen before landing themselves on Corbyn’s.

“You could be the one, girl you’re driving me crazy.”

#corbyn besson #corbyn besson x reader #corbyn besson imagine #Corbyn besson x y/n #Corbyn Besson imagines #why don’t we fluff #why don’t we x reader #why don’t we imagine #why don’t we #why don’t we x y/n

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amethyst-dreams-and-candy-canes · 3 years

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Pain

AN: My humble submission for @cockslut-padalecki A Decade Under the Influence writing challenge. Here’s to another decade enjoying our hobbies 💜🖤. My song was Pain by Three Days Grace. I interpreted the song as a toxic relationship and honestly the first person who came to mind was Ranson Drysdale 🤷🏿‍♀️. The lyrics will be italicized.

Warnings: toxic relationship, domestic abuse (emotional and physical w/ injuries), infidelity, non-con/dub-con (tagging both just in case), destruction of property, somnophilia, I’m not joking yall, heed the warnings this is TOXIC

Word Count: 1,569

I do not own the rights to the song nor the lyrics of the song

Pain without love

Pain, I can't get enough

Pain, I like it rough

'Cause I'd rather feel pain than nothing at all

Sitting on the side of the bed, you survey the damage. A hole in the wall. Shattered lamp near the nightstand. A bloody hand print on the pillow to your right. It draws your attention as you try to figure out whose blood it is. Doesn't matter, you're both bleeding. A cough to your left in the corner of the room makes you wince; he'll never admit it but this fight took a lot out of him. His breathing is labored and you wonder if you may have broken a rib. Good.

You sigh as you rack your memory to figure out how you got here. They say no relationship is perfect but yours was pretty close. In the beginning, Ransom Drysdale was a perfect gentleman; always held the door open for you, brought you flowers and even watched that TV show with you that you knew he didn’t particularly care for. The first year was a dream. But then things started to go downhill. Fights with his family would result to him coming to your apartment and taking his frustrations out on you. You allowed it then; thinking you’d be a good outlet for him. But soon his ranting and raving turned into him degrading you. When his grandfather passed, the flood gates opened and your head was on a spindle, waiting for his next mood swing. Still you stayed even if you knew it was no longer a healthy relationship. Naively you continued to stand by his side telling yourself that at least he was physical with you and that had to mean he cared for you even if he could’t expression himself in a loving manner.

Then came the cheating. Openly flaunting his conquests in your mutual circles. At first you didn't want to believe it. You trusted him and he reciprocated your trust or so you assumed. But the pitied stares and crude whispers at your expense began to chip away at you. You'd confront him and at first, he denied it. You were the only one for him he had proclaimed and like a love sick puppy, you were his again. But when videos and photos were sent to your phone, hard evidence of his betrayal, he didn't even bother to come up with a good lie. He knew you loved him and used that to his advantage. But there was only so much you could take. So much you would take.

This life is filled with hurt

When happiness doesn't work

Trust me, and take my hand

When the lights go out, you'll understand

Another cough and a groan. He was attempting to stand up. Curses left his lips as he stands on wobbly legs, no doubt as dizzy as you are. You stare straight ahead, hoping that he wouldn’t want to continue the fight and leave you alone. He mutters to himself before he spits, blood and saliva landing on the tile next to your foot. You see his foot for a split second before he moves away from you and to the bathroom door.

“Fucking bitch.” he quite literally spits. You want to retort, a scathing insult on your tongue but the throbbing in your head is too distracting to care. The door slams and you close your eyes, the exhaustion settling in your bones. And soul.

"So, what? It's over? Give me a break." He laughed incredulously at you. The smirk that you had once found so handsome now was the bane of your existence. "Like you can find someone better, sweetheart."

"I can and I will!" You rant, pacing back and forth. He's perched on your counter-top, legs swing as he regards you with a humorous expression that only pisses you off more.

"Yeah sure. Good luck with that."

You're sick of feeling numb

You're not the only one

I'll take you by the hand

And I'll show you a world that you can understand

The running water brings you back to the present and your heart breaks at the memory. He was right. No matter how many dates you went on, how many you invited into your bed. No one could compare. As much as you hated him, you loved him. Love him.

You weren't expecting to see him sitting on your bed after your date. It was lackluster at best and you honestly just wanted to lay down and forget the whole ordeal. You sat your purse on the dresser and crossed your arms waiting for his tirade but when the silence stretched longer than you were comfortable with, you moved to go to the bathroom. He was on you in seconds, left hand secured firmly around your throat. "Really? You replaced me with that tool?"

Anger and agony are better than misery

Trust me, I've got a plan

When the lights go up, you'll understand

You couldn't ignore the thrill that went through you at his anger. Serves him right. Too many nights you sat up and cried over his infidelity, his cruelty. About time he felt even an iota of the pain he put you through. Your eyes meet his as you stared him down. You knew he wanted an answer and your defiance would be the response.

"You're such a cunt, you know that? Pathetic. I fucking hate you." You strike him before you know it. The slap resounded around the room. His hand leaves your throat as he grabs his face, eyes wide in shock. You didn't mean to hit him but your body moved faster than your brain, his audacity triggering your fight or flight. He lunged at you quicker than you thought he could and gave you a hard smack in return. His hand found your throat again and he shoved you against the wall, the back of your head smacking it loudly.

"So you wanna be tough now, huh? Finally fight back?" He snarled too close to your face. You tried to shove him off but he was stronger and leaned his body in towards you. Your vision began to wane, either from the lack of oxygen or the hit against the wall you weren't sure. He was speaking, that much you were certain of but his words were lost in your determination to breathe. Grabbing at his wrist, you dropped your body weight and pulled him down with you. You both hit the floor and as soon as he released you, you crawled away from him and hit the nightstand causing the lamp to rock on the floor. He was on his feet quicker than you had expected and you grabbed the lamp and swung, the metal connecting to his side.

"I hate you too, asshole."

I know, I know, I know, I know, I know

That you're wounded

(You know, you know, you know, you know)

That I'm here to save you

(You know, you know, you know, you know)

I'm always here for you

(I know, I know, I know, I know)

That you'll thank me later

Hot air suffocated you and a heaviness settled over you so forcefully that you found it hard to draw a breath. The throbbing in your head had dulled but was present and you groaned. You tried to move away from the weight but you were pinned, unable to wiggle away. Consciousness ebbed and flowed but a sharp jolt on your lower body forced you towards awareness. A soft moan above you made you frown as another sharp thrust to your groin made you open your eyes. It was dark but you could see Ransom, lips parted and face contorted in pain or pleasure, you weren't sure. His face hovered close to yours and for a moment, a wave of panic washed over you at the thought he might kill you. Another thrust made you gasp and your fuzzy brain fought to catch up.

"Don't fight it." He whispered almost uncharacteristically gentle as his hips rolled into yours. Gritting your teeth, you attempt to move away from him but he has your arms pinned to your sides. His lips find yours and the stunning pain of the cut makes you whimper. Another thrust and your legs part on their own accord and you writhe under him, the feeling of him inside of you a cruel comfort. He takes it as your submission and speeds up as he trails kisses from your jaw to your neck where he buries his face. Your head swims as you once again try to figure out just how you got here. He moans your name and bites into your neck, the small spark triggering your orgasm unexpectedly. His pace falters at the feel of you clenching around him and it isn’t long before he comes with a broken hiss of your name.

“I love you.” his soft admission barely heard over his labored breathing. Tears sting your eyes as he nuzzles against you and wraps his arms across your torso. You don’t know who you hate more, him or yourself. As the tears fall into your hairline and his breathing evens out, you realize that the answer is yourself because you know the truth and can do nothing about it.

“I love you too.”

Rather feel pain than nothing at all

Rather feel pain...

I’m not tagging a lot of people because I don’t want to offend: @avintagekiss24 @sapphirescrolls @cockslut-padalecki

#decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #non-con #dub-con #ransom x reader #somnophilia

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mobagehelllocal · 3 years

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“lucky ending” extra notes i & iii

Hi, I said I would do it but then I released ver i so long ago that I felt I shouldn't do this unless I had another version out at least so yay! finally! ... I'll add ver ii here when I get around to writing it... *shifty eyes* So as usual, this is just my thought process and ideas while writing lol.

*please do not read if you haven’t read “lucky ending” ver i (dorm leaders) & ver iii (rook & lilia).

It was inspired by an anon ask and the button tradition from Japanese schools.

The anon ask went like this: First at all, I like do much your writing and I hope you are doing well. Second, I was wondering what would happen if the MC (Fem!s/o I guess) decided to not go back to her world, like she decide stay with her villain? Can you do make headcanons of this for the dorm leaders? Thank you very much. – from Anonymous

The button tradition, as narrated by the first years, is done when one person confesses and the other responds by giving them the button closest to their heart. In most Japanese uniforms it’s the second uniform, but in Twisted Wonderland--I looked at the ceremonial robes and the closest button should be the fifth. Maybe. I could be wrong.

The songs I listened to while writing this!

The original dorm leaders (and Rook) was written while listening to “Lucky Ending”, the ending theme of Fruits Basket. The English lyrics (translated by otenkiame!) are:

“Change is important. I want to do it well,/ but I wanna cry. It's still bad. I wanna cry”

“The word "goodbye" has disappeared completely from this world/ All that remains is me fooling around next to you/A day you don't laugh won't come anymore”

“I've understood it since being here/ These feelings of wanting to protect you aren't a misunderstanding/ If we can call what connects us bonds,/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Even if in a different world, it'll never be different/ everything changes/ everybody changes/ Don't change, ever/ Stay here, stay here”

I think it’s obvious why I chose to use this as the title of the series. It’s a story about change but it’s also a story about the things you don’t want to change... And I think it’s not wrong to want to hold onto things.

I also listened to the same playlist that I listened to while writing “wendy?” “hello peter pan”:

“Can’t help falling in love” cover by Annapantsu, “If you’re not the one” by David Beddingfield, “Who Knew” by P!nk and “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift.

For Lilia in particular, I was listening to three Beauty and the Beast songs on loop. “Evermore” by Josh Groban, “Days in the Sun” by the live action cast and, of course--”How does a moment last forever” by Celine Dion.

“How does a moment last forever?/ How can a story never die?/ It is love we must hold onto/ Never easy, but we try/ Sometimes our happiness is captured/ Somehow, our time and place stand still/ Love lives on inside our hearts and always will”

Also for Lilia, Tolerate It by Taylor Swift.

“You're so much older and wiser and I/ I wait by the door like I'm just a kid”

“I made you my temple, my mural, my sky/Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life”

Malleus was definitely the first piece finished. Closely followed by Vil’s. I believe there was a gap inbetween them before I did the others? I wrote bits and pieces of Leona, Idia, Kalim and Azul’s. I think I finished Leona, Idia, Kalim then Riddle because I distinctly remember saving Azul for last.

One of the most important things for me, is that each story stands distinct of each other. So I gave myself a really hard time trying to figure out how each one uniquely belonged to each of the characters.

For the Prologue... I think because it’s set at the graduation of certain characters, I used that to my advantage and implied the stronger bonds between the Yuu!Reader and the entirety of the cast. Because a lot of time has passed and I feel like--regardless of what other people believe, bonds will be made and relationships will have strengthened enough for it to happen.

Riddle is honestly another really difficult character for me to write. I generally do love him and I enjoy his story, but something about him is difficult and I’m not sure why.

I think a part of me is also really miffed because from Heartslabyul-Savanaclaw, you could feel that Riddle really cared for Yuu on some level but then he just straight up disappears come Octavinelle chapter. I feel like there was potential to develop their relationship even more.

He WENT UP AND TIED YOUR RIBBON I REMEMBER I WENT DOKI DOKI OVER THAT.

I feel like because I’ve established that it’s a Yuu!Reader, it’s impossible for this story to not include both Ace and Deuce. So of course they featured in really big roles for this one, being responsible for telling Riddle the story.

I have to thank my friend, Mes, for bouncing ideas with me. They were the one who suggested what I could do with Riddle’s story by having ADeuce play such a big part!

I also tried my hardest to include Trey and Cater, and I’m pretty happy with their cameo. In a way, they definitely helped Riddle figure out his own feelings for you.

My favourite lines are: “I think you earned that much. I don’t believe anyone’s ever been in your situation before so—there’s no right or wrong about what you’re doing. It’s all about what you want to do.”

I wish someone would tell this to Yuu in general though. They’re the only one who has ever been in their situation (to our knowledge at least) and like... they’re definitely allowed to be even more selfish.

Leona is someone who I used to dislike a lot. I never hid that. It’s primarily because of how disappointed I am in the story of Savanaclaw probably. But like, I was always concerned about writing him properly because I thought that it was only right that I did right by him, because there would be people reading these stories who loved him. And I felt like I had to do right by that love.

I think... it’s wrong to believe that characters... villains... cannot fall in love or “won’t fall in love.” I think it’s wrong also to think that “people don’t change for love.”

In fact, people do change. You definitely shouldn’t change yourself to be loved, but... people change all the time to be their “better” selves. So whose to say that a good person, who you love, will not make you want to improve yourself? Isn’t that what we want when we meet people? To fall in love with someone who will ultimately make you better and never worse.

Or so that’s how I try to write the Twisted characters when they fall in love... With an understanding that “morally” the person they are falling for is “kind” and “good” and how a part of them might just want to be better just for that person. (Especially Leona and Azul). They don’t necessarily have to be nice to everyone, but if they can be better for one person... We stan healthy character growth.

But yeah, Leona is driven by understanding that he’s a very selfish person. But that he’s also very unfortunate and he doesn’t want tie you with someone who, he thinks, is actually worthless. He probably, deeply, thinks you deserve more.

Though his selfishness eventually wins out and well... Won’t you forgive him for it? :) For tying you down to this worthless second prince?

I think his own self-awareness does make him try harder. Not for everyone or everything... but for you. Just for you. I think that would be Leona’s love language--spending time with you, trying for you.

He’d appreciate if you didn’t call him out on it though, that would be very embarrassing.

Looking back, I’m surprised that it was the only version where none of the other boys from his dorm showed up lol. Which means Ruggie is the sole character who has yet to appear in the “lucky ending” series, huh.

My favourite lines from his story that still leaves me breathless and patting my past self in the back: ““I’m home—” you said—even if a part of you felt that home should have been two green eyes, a cocky smirk, and a warm patch of sunlight on the grassy ground.”

Like honestly, what was I on? Who was she?

Azul is, like Leona, someone who is so keenly aware of the things he’s lacking. In fact, he’s someone who thinks he’s lacking when he’s probably perfect in some aspects. He might act proud but a part of him--I think--thinks its not enough. It’s never enough. He can certainly do better still.

In that light, it’s why he thinks he’s undeserving of a partner. Especially one who is “kind” and “understanding.” While ultimately, Azul deserves people in his life who are that and “accepting” of him--I think he still thinks he doesn’t.

And thats why he lets go of the Yuu!Reader. It’s why he doesn’t “chase” after her like Leona did.

It’s because he’s selfish, because he wants her--that he forces himself to let go.

Azul needs someone who’ll tell him that he is worth something and that he’s definitely worth the effort. So please praise him a lot until he’s crying in happiness. I’m sure it’s the one thing he’s always wanted to hear from people around him.

Also my Poly!Octavinelle Agenda has never died and I am pleased Past!Ai got away with so much Poly!Octa hints in this story lol. But honestly, regardless of wht Octavinelle says... god, you can tell they genuinely care about each other.

I recently rewatched Octavinelle’s chapter and... by god, the amount of things I missed out on first watch. Jade’s concern when he realized Azul wanted to get rid of that photo... The fact Floyd was so willing to drop the fight to return to Azul too... Anyways, Poly!Octa Agenda for life.

Favourite lines: “Azul’s pathetic whimpers turned into guttural sobs. His fingers spread to cover his eyes—and his glasses slid off his face, down to his lap and then to the ground—at his actions. His whole body shook as he cried his heart out.”

It’s not as poetic as a lot of my other favourites, but for some reason these lines always get me when I reread them. There’s something so visceral about it.

Azul’s piece is probably the least visually stimulating out of all these stories? His was so emotionally driven compared to the others and I worried a lot about that.

I think I remember I was crying so badly as I was writing this.

Kalim is really hard for me because I feel like I struggle a lot with finding conflict in his character? He’s such a genuinely nice person, I find it hard to believe that the Yuu!Reader would feel alienated from him or something. So I brought in “environment” to get in the way.

My use of celestial imagery for Kalim is because of the Scarabia trailer! I really loved how it put Kalim as the sun and Jamil as the moon. I definitely will take advantage of that when I get around to writing for Jamil.

So because I wanted to use the sun, I chose to use the idea of comets for Kalim? I think I remember something about how meteors are drawn to the gravitation pull of the sun and can “escape” it or “be destroyed” by it. Haha, hot.

Jamil is someone who ultimately cares about Kalim too and I had fun writing his banter with the Yuu!Reader. I think I wanted to decribe the shadows licking his face reminscent to the marks from his Overblot but... I felt like doing that would give Jamil too much focus so I ultimately decided against it.

It would’ve been hot though.

Oh yes, one thing I wanted to talk about is Kalim’s rushed proposal. I remember people talking about it in the tags, comments... even in asks at that time. The reason he does it is because he’s someone who didn’t realize his feelings until you spelled out your own. It was a sort of: “Oh. Right. That is the word I’d use to describe my feelings.”

My favourite lines from his story is: “How does one bid goodbye to the sun?” and “No one ever willingly bids goodbye to the sun.They spend the rest of their lives trying to find the right way back to it.”

My god, who was this genius.

Vil is probably the most visually stunning out of all these stories. I feel like my stories go from super vivid imagery and setting to just complete emotional disasters lol. (Vil being the former and Azul’s being the latter... not that it’s bad, it actually suits the characters).

Oh man, I remember thinking that Vil is such a hard character to write because we don’t know what his motivation for perfection is. All we knows is that he wants to be the best but, why?

It’s like, for example, Idia. His motivations could be otaku-related. He doesn’t want to go to class because he’d rather go play or something. That sounds in character--but Vil was so hard because he wanted perfection.

But we already see him as such a perfect character, so what else did he need to be even more perfect? In that light, Chapter 5 did a really good job on presenting Vil’s motivations.

But honestly, I think I can comfortably say that the Vil I’ve written so far is pretty accurate? To his character. I’m really grateful I read his chat lines because his comment about intelligence really got me thinking about his possible motivations. It made it really easy to understand that Vil wasn’t like majority of the real world’s influencers.

One other thing that I was really happy about with his story is the use of the flower language. It’s something I hope I can use more because it’s so beautiful.

Oh! And the roses the Yuu!Reader talks about are double delight roses. They are specifically bred to have two colors--yellow in the center and pink on the outside. I thought it fitting that the Yuu!Reader breed special roses for Vil.

They can be called... err... Vil Roses?

My favourite lines from his story is: ““My happiness will not be dictated by others—no, Vil Schoenheit is a person who will grasp happiness with his own hands.” [...] “I’m giving you this button because I’ve already found happiness by your side.””

This line was actually inspired by Zelda C.W.’s MYth series. Specifically Hera’s story, Will.

Idia ...for him, I somehow had a very hard time imagining him trying to tell the reader to stay. Like that didn’t compute for me? I felt like his version was better approached in a more comedic light somehow.

I also felt that it would be cuter if the Yuu!Reader had already chosen to stay and Idia would need to hastily retrack his confession... Unfortunately, Yuu!Reader won’t let him.

Honestly looking back on it, I wonder how much of Chapter 6 is going to make me scream and want to rewrite Idia’s part?

My favourite lines from his story is: “He was never particularly good at lying—nor was he good at keeping secrets from you. You were a person he considered a dear friend—and he was always the type of person who ended up spilling everything to you. He liked being able to talk about the things he enjoyed—he liked that he had found someone who wanted to hear him out.”

A lot of my interpretation for Idia is closely linked to personal experience as an anime, manga and gaming fan. It was just a couple of years ago where people would actually be bullied for liking these things--but nowadays its become a norm. It’s... stunning actually but it makes me happy to know that maybe nobody will be judged for loving anime.

That being said, Idia’s longing to find someone he can talk to is something I really relate too--back then, it was so difficult to find someone to talk to about my interests... So I interpreted Idia as much the same. That what he enjoys about the Yuu!Reader is their ability to simply sit and listen to him talk.

Malleus... man, recently I’ve been starting to fall in love with him all over again. He was my first oshi ever... Anyways, moving on. You think I’ve talked enough about immortal x mortal but nope, we are not done. I love this theme in general, romantic or platonic.

I will never shut up about it you can’t make me.

Sebek having a good enough friendship with Yuu!Reader is such a delicious concept. Like mutual respect and Sebek understanding that Yuu!Reader gives Malleus a different type of companionship that Sebek, Silver or Lilia couldn’t...

And also, ultimately, Sebek and Yuu!Reader do love Malleus. In different ways, but I like the thought of Sebek respecting that and respecting the Yuu!Reader.

Me realizing just now that Silver joins Ruggie in the: “has never appeared in a lucky ending fic club.”... Sorry Silver, I swear soon. Once we get more content on you.

Celestial themes for Malleus are primarily, again, because he only ever seemed to meet you at night. And I thought it would be wonderful, if you were a bright spark to him.

Favourite lines are definitely: “Oh, bright light… I would prefer to live the rest of your life by your side… rather than spend centuries contemplating what it could have felt… to hold you in my arms.”

I am, always, going to be such a big sucker for the idea of immortals constantly remembering and loving mortals. Always holding them close in their memories, because in that way--their lovers have become immortal with them.

I also like to imagine that he eventually figures out a way to connect your worlds together so you can still talk to your friends and family from that world. He is one of the most powerful magicians around, I’m sure its possible.

Rook was honestly the most difficult piece for me to write because he’s so hard(?) for me to understand. He’s a mess of contradictions honestly and I... guess I’m excited to see what he’ll do come Chapter 6.

I actually rewrote his story so much. I got about 500 words with a different idea/plot in mind before deleting that completely and restarting from scratch.

I feel like Rook is someone who talks big and talks about love without actually knowing what it truly might feel like. He’s someone who doesn’t understand it and ends up mistaking it for his fascination.

Aside from me enjoying inserting other characters from the same dorm as much as possible, I felt that Vil was the perfect person to snap some sense into Rook.

Epel’s appearance there is basically to reflect how much I really hope the first year kids get really close to one another.

Rook is also someone who I think, doesn’t try to explain himself too much. He’s someone who I think talks a lot, but if people don’t understand him then he doesn’t need to be understood? That’s my impression. Lol, when “lucky ending” became a character study.

I also really loved the idea that Rook was fine with people running from him--to him that makes it all the more thrilling. But then you start running away from him and that just ends up making dread pool in his stomach.

My favourite lines from his story: “‘When something ends, it must be sad. So, tell me then, how an ending could be so beautiful?’ [...] .‘But there was one ending that was beautiful, non?’ [...] ‘That’s right. ‘They lived happily ever after’—are those not the words that define a beautiful ending?’”

I used the dusk metaphor for Rook. My idea is that he starts seeing dusk as an ending and how he can’t fathom how any “ending” is beautiful. When a story ends, it’s not beautiful to him, humu. But when that ending is the happily ever after then... That makes all the difference.

Lilia was actually easier than Rook’s but also fairly difficult. I had written the middle of Lilia’s piece while stumped on Rook’s actually. Lilia’s was probably easier because I love the idea of immortals and mortals.

I don’t really like the idea of mortals becoming immortals. Like, yes, it’s certainly sweet and spending eternity with a one true love is definitely the best possible ending but... I think there’s so much weight in an immortal choosing to love a mortal while knowing that they will ultimately lose them.

The biggest theme for Lilia is definitely time.

Thinking about it now... There’s been a lot of things in real life that’s just... Made me think about how we have less time than we actually think we have. And I think I ended up channeling that through Lilia... Though I feel like it is ultimately things Lilia would think about though.

The most important imagery would probably be the stars.

I honestly wanted to avoid it because I used celestial imagery for both Kalim and Malleus but the words just flowed out in a way that I felt that I couldn’t replace. So I went with it.

Lilia is no stranger to loneliness. One of the reasons he feels less alone is because he has family now and he doesn’t want to rob you of that. Family is so important to him because they are people who are meant to be with you--they are people who will make you less lonely--or so thats how I think? he thinks.

My favourite lines from his story: “He would relish in the way—You made the world pause. You made a moment extend into an eternity. You made an immortal crave just a little more time.”

I’m so immensely proud of this one? I don’t really have much else to say. There’s something so raw about it that I love. Also the part where it continues on to say that “Because there is never enough time.”

Me realizing my extra notes is just half me simping over these characters, half sharing headcanons, have actually giving good advice? perspective?, half song lyrics, half character study/analysis?

“lucky ending” is about change. Whether we want them to happen or not it’s... the human condition to change. For better or worse, we change--day by day. I think we all operate under a small panic about how everyday things are changing...

But “lucky ending” is also about the things that don’t change. Won’t change. Will never change. The things worth holding onto, the thing worth fighting for... or so I’d like to think.

#aimuses #ainotes #ai lucky series #twst #twisted wonderland #its 6 AM HEEHOOO

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theotherhufflepuff · 3 years

Text

Till I Belong To You

Carry On Countdown day 6 - Reunion/Reconnect

~2K

All my stories for this year's Countdown take place in the same universe/timeline. You can find my other fics under the tag Casey writes.

This one takes place a year after my day 2 fic, On Love's Light Wings, which you can read here. You don't need to have read it for this one to make sense but it will fill in a couple of details.

I can't really give you a synopsis without spoilers, so here's the first line to tempt you instead:

Two whole weeks Baz has been gone and I’ve been completely pathetic about it the whole time.

Title is lyrics from the song mentioned in the fic.

Content warnings: no big ones this time. A fair amount of swearing and it gets mildly ~spicy~ (really though, very mild. Not even as spicy as AWTWB).

Enjoy!

Till I Belong To You

Simon

Two whole weeks Baz has been gone and I’ve been completely pathetic about it the whole time. That’s what Baz would call me, if he could see me: pathetic.

I pick up my phone and open Spotify. It’s Baz’s account; I hardly ever use it. I press play on Baz’s top songs of the year. I don’t really care much for the music; I just miss the background noise of him being in the flat.

The place feels too big and too quiet with him gone. I’ve started avoiding being here on my own. I’ve stayed late at work to help Kevin lock up. I’ve been to Penny and Shep’s for dinner and to Lady Ruth’s twice. I’ve been to the pub with Jamie and had Shepard over to play Fifa – how is a bloke who calls it soccer and doesn’t know the rules so good at Fifa? – but now it’s Friday night and everyone else has plans. So I ordered pizza and ate it on the sofa watching repeats of Brooklyn 99.

A new song starts; The Beatles’ It Won’t Be Long. I know I shouldn’t, I know it’s extra pathetic, but I don’t care; he knows how pathetic I am already. I click "share" and send the song to Baz.

He starts typing almost immediately.

“Pathetic, Snow.”

“I know” I’m not even ashamed.

“I’ve missed you, too”

I send him a heart emoji. I was so proud when he got this promotion but I didn’t realise then that he’d have to travel to America twice a year. This is his first trip and I hate it.

It’s not like we’ve never spent time apart – he stays in Oxford sometimes without me – but two weeks feels like a long time; and Chicago is not Oxford. And I’m worried about him; the last time he was in America he didn’t exactly have a good time. At least he’s in a city this time so he’ll be able to keep himself fed. And it’s December, so not much chance of sunburn. My phone buzzes again.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed? It’s almost midnight there. Don’t you have to work in the morning?”

I actually don’t have to work tomorrow; I swapped my weekend off with Kevin because I wanted to be here when Baz got home. I want to keep that a surprise, though, so I ignore it.

“I am in bed. Wanna see ;P”

Am I going to send nudes to my boyfriend while he’s on a work trip? Maybe, if he wants them. Maybe that will give him a good reason to come home.

“You know I would love to see that, Snow, but I’m meeting the others for dinner in a minute.”

I decide to send him a preview anyway, for my own amusement. Nothing too revealing, in case someone sees it; just something for him to think about over dinner. I’m not wearing a shirt so I turn on the bedside lamp and take a selfie. Just me from the waist up, lying in bed. My hair’s a mess, he’ll enjoy that.

I watch the ticks appear and then turn blue. Baz starts typing. And then stops. And then starts again.

“Snow, you gorgeous fucker, I do not have time to sext with you, much as I desperately want to. I’m going to have dinner with the team. I hope the view is still as good tomorrow.”

Did Baz just use the word "sext"? How does Baz even know the word "sext"?

“You’re definitely coming back then?” I’m mostly joking.

“I will be there when you get home from work. Go to sleep. Don’t send me any more filthy photos.” And then: “Yet.”

I laugh to myself and put my phone down next to my pillow.

I lie awake for a long time thinking about Baz in America. He could be so much more free there than he could ever be here. I’ve tried to talk to him about it before but he just gets angry at me. He could really live a life out there, though. I feel like I’m holding him back from that.

That’s not a productive line of thought, so I interrupt it.

He said he was coming back, and he keeps coming back; over and over. When we argue, when he goes home to his family, when I’m depressed and hard to live with – he always comes back. He always wants to come back. I don't know why he keeps coming back, I don’t think I give him enough reason to. But I want to. I want him to know that I will always be here for him to come back to. I want him to know that I’m sorry I left when he was in Oxford that time. I want him to know that won’t ever happen again.

How do I show him I mean it?

***

I wake up late because I didn’t get to sleep until after 2am, but I did decide how I’m going to show Baz that I want to be as reliable for him as he is for me.

I shower and make coffee and I do a bit of googling while I eat breakfast; trying to find exactly what I need.

And then I get on the next train.

Baz

I shouldn’t have driven myself to the airport when I left for Chicago. I’m jetlagged and now I have to deal with pre-Christmas traffic outside Heathrow. Mind you, being stuck in a taxi with a driver full of blood wouldn’t be much fun, either.

Chicago was bloody freezing and covered in snow. It makes England in December feel temperate in comparison. I went for a walk in a park before we left for the airport, so I could find something to drink before I had to spend nine hours on a plane. I was sat in the row behind the two colleagues I was travelling with, which at least gave me enough of an excuse not to talk to them. They’re perfectly nice people but we’ve spent the last two weeks doing everything together and I am ready to not have to see anyone for a long, long time.

Well, anyone but Simon. I worried about how he would cope while I was away; December is always hard for him. Christmas is in a few days and he gets very melancholy about it. Bunce has been texting me to keep me updated on his mental state. She said that, apart from finding as many excuses as possible to not be at home on his own, he seemed fine.

He certainly seemed fine when he sent me a half-naked photo last night.

I’m going to fuck that idiot silly when he gets home. If he’ll let me.

He asked me last night if I was definitely coming back. He was mostly joking, I think, but I know he still worries, too. As if I’ve ever abandoned him, as if I could ever abandon him. I think he’s still waiting for me to get bored of him; he’s been convinced that Bunce and I would lose interest ever since he lost his magic. It was never about the magic. I keep telling him that I’m not going to leave, but he hasn’t decided to believe it yet, not fully. I don’t know how I’m going to convince him that I’m always going to come back to him.

***

I park the car outside the flat and sit in the drivers’ seat for a minute; the fatigue and the thirst and the relief of finally being home settling on me. I decide that I will shower and take a nap first; I’ll hunt later.

I carry my suitcase up the stairs and put my key in the door, but it isn’t locked. Immediately suspicious, I push the door open quietly and peer round the frame. I can hear someone moving around in the kitchen. I can smell cinnamon and bacon and fresh bread. Why is Simon here?

I leave my suitcase by the door and go into the kitchen, “Simon?”

His face lights up when he sees me. “Baz!” he hugs me so hard he lifts me off the floor slightly. He’s actually cooking bacon and I have to concentrate on keeping my fangs retracted.

“I thought you were at work?” I say as Simon hands me a hot cup of tea.

“I swapped my weekends; I wanted to be here when you got back. I’m making bacon sarnies, do you want one?” Of course I want one; he already knows that.

I sit down at the kitchen table and spoon sugar into my tea while my jetlagged brain tries to catch up. Something isn’t right here. I drink my tea and mentally shake myself. What is happening here, Basil?

Simon is making me a bacon sandwich. He was here waiting for me when I got home. He’s being sort of odd; too busy and too bright, like a children’s TV presenter. He’s wearing a shirt. An actual button-up shirt. It’s tucked into his jeans and he’s rolled the sleeves up. (What is it about rolled shirt sleeves that instantly makes men 100 times hotter?) I think about Simon’s biceps and shoulders, hidden under that shirt; I think about his bare shoulders moving under my hands…

I clear my throat as Simon puts a bacon sandwich in front of me. “Ok babe?” he asks.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just tired.” Why is he making so much effort? Was he really that worried I wouldn’t come home?

I eat my sandwich slowly. Snow doesn’t say much; he keeps fidgeting like he’s nervous. He hasn’t made himself a sandwich. Does he think I’ve come home only to announce I’m leaving him? This is getting silly.

Finally, he breaks the silence. “I missed you while you were gone, Baz.” He says quietly.

“I know, love; I missed you, too.” I smile at him in what I hope is a reassuring way. Maybe later, when he’s calmed down a bit, I’ll sit him down and have a proper talk about this. He can’t freak out every time I go away.

I finish my tea and get up, taking my dishes to the sink. I can hear Simon fidgeting behind me. I’m washing bacon grease off of my hands when Simon says “Will you promise to always come back to me, Basil?” Basil? He never calls me that; it sounds strange coming from his lips, like he doesn't know how to pronounce it properly.

“Simon,” I sigh, I don’t have the patience for this just now. I turn towards the table to tell him he’s being stupid, but he isn’t at the table.

He’s on the floor. On one knee.

“Simon, what -” my brain knows what’s happening, but it’s refusing to believe it.

He looks really nervous now; a frankly stunning flush is creeping up his face from his neck. “Baz,” he swallows deliberately; it’s a whole show, my favourite. He takes a deep breath and looks me in the eyes; it seems to take some effort. “Will you marry me?” he’s holding a small square box made of polished wood. He opens it and inside is a gold band. In the middle of the band is a square cut sapphire, three small diamonds span the width of the band on either side of the blue stone. It’s perfect.

My mouth is dry but Snow is still on his knee on the kitchen floor, looking earnestly at me. I swallow hard. “Yes. Yes, Simon, I promise to always come back to you.”

Simon looks so relieved I think he might pass out. He gets off the floor and kisses me, fiercely. I can feel his wide smile against my own.

He steps back, still grinning like the Cheshire cat, and takes the ring out of the box. I offer my hand and he slides the ring onto my finger. Miraculously, it fits. Simon kisses me again. “I love you,” he whispers between kisses.

“I love you, too,” I whisper back.

He’s pinned me against the kitchen sink with his body, his hips against mine. He's got one arm wrapped around my waist, hand firm on the small of my back holding me against him. The other hand is on the worktop, holding him up. He's kissing along my jaw and under my ear. He’s starting to nip at me now. “Always come back, Baz,” he’s still whispering.

I’m not. “Simon,” I growl into his ear, “we are going to bed. Right now.”

He raises his eyebrows at me, grinning. “Now.” I order, pushing him backwards towards the bedroom.

Simon’s laughing. He’s so gorgeous. He takes my hand, pulls me through the bedroom doorway and down, onto the bed. I land on top of him; he’s still laughing. “God, I’ve missed you, Baz.”

#carry on countdown #coc 2021 #coc entry #Casey writes #carry on #wayward son #snowbaz #simon snow #awtwb #baz pitch #any way the wind blows #simon snow trilogy #tyrannus basilton grimm pitch #fanfic

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geordiewrites · 4 years

Note

Hey i just read exile inspired fic and it is soo good. I think you should write one based on the song tolerate it by ts? With harry plz. The drama, fight, tears.. I think you will reflect the emotion so well omg.

Tolerate It | Harry Potter

A/N: Hi lovely! First off, I adored this request so much and I really hope I’ve done it justice. Tolerate It is such a beautiful song and defo one of my favourites off of Evermore to cry to, there’s just so much detail hidden within the lyrics and I adore that. Harry too!! There’s not enough stuff for Harry, so I hope I’ve done well for you! ( Also this is super short, but I’ve been swamped with coursework xox )

Summary: Y/N is in love with The Boy Who Lived, and due to marry him in the Spring with a beautiful April wedding. Friends to lovers to that engaged couple who are just too in love to function, they share the most perfect story. But when Y/N begins to see their relationship for what it is, her entire world is thrown off key...

Warnings: angst and lots of it, loneliness, sadness, swearing.

“You’re coming home tonight, right?” Y/N asks, excitement and anticipation heavy in her tone, cherry red nails clicking against the cold metal of the answerphone.

“Of course, I’ll be back soon, love.” Harry Potter, her beloved fiancé, answered back on the other side from his workplace all the way in central London. His office is almost empty, devoid of any homely photos or colleagues: they had all gone home to their families long ago, and yet he stayed behind. He had no work to finish, no cases glaring to be solved. There was nothing to do but leave, but Harry didn’t.

“You’ve said that before.” Y/N pointed out blandly, her forced smile fading slightly. Many times had Harry said he was on his way home, only to send a letter the next morning apologising for suddenly getting swamped with unavoidable paperwork. “Please come home Harry, I’ve even made your favourite for dinner.”

“That sounds good, I promise I’ll be there soon. I’m just leaving the Ministry now.” Harry replied monotonously, not sounding nearly as happy as Y/N wished he would. Perhaps he had just had a bad day at the office, he must have done. But he had just one too many bad days now, and the reality that he might not want to see her was beginning to sink in.

Shaking off that horrible thought, Y/N inhaled a sharp breath and chewed the edge of her top lip. “Alright, if you say so. I’ll see you then.”

“Bye.” Harry said shortly before putting the phone down and staring at his office, desperately trying to find a reason to stay at work. He did love Y/N, he did. Heck, he had even asked her to marry him and kissed the edge of her lips as they set the date. And then postponed it. And then postponed it another year after that, all because of some urgent work that Harry had suddenly come across. He was just so young, forced to grow up so quickly he didn’t even have time for a scrap of a childhood. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to see Y/N, why going home to their apartment often felt like a chore.

Back at their cosy flat in the nicer part of Greenwich, Y/N put the phone down after hearing an abrupt beep on the other end that let her know he had hung up. She sighed before walking over to a tall cabinet that stood to the side of their kitchen, taking out a set of nice china plates her Grandmother had left her and crystal wine glasses. It was the lovely cutlery only used for things like Christmas and obligatory dinner parties her family forced her to hold.

After setting it out on the table, Y/N checked the time and supposed that if Harry really had left as he said, he would be back in just a minute through the wonders of apparation. Carefully so she wouldn’t somehow spill the food in her clumsiness, a quality Harry once said he loved about her, Y/N moved the food from the oven, to plates and then through to their front room where the fancy cutlery was set up. A smile made its way onto her face, a beaming, gorgeous smile of confidence that her and Harry would finally have the night she deserved. One where work or his reluctance to put effort into their relationship, even if she did pretend she knew nothing about this, didn’t get in the way.

Alas however, minutes passed and there was no sign of Harry anywhere. The food grew colder and that wonderful, rare smile of hers faded into an all too comfortable frown, the crease between her eyebrows deepening with not only disappointment, but anger. A growing resentment for Harry’s lack of care or even acknowledgement of their engagement. He didn’t seem to give two hoots that she had made a lovely meal; after all, he had only called it ‘good’. Not fabulous or decadent or even something praiseful. Just good.

They hadn’t said ‘I love you’ before they hung up the phones. Harry had only said one word. Y/N’s mind began to spiral, her breathing growing quicker and sharper as the thought that it might be time to confront Harry about the buildup of letdowns over the course of the last few months. A year even, since he had properly spent time at home. At their home, the one in which he had knelt down on one knee and told her he wanted to grow old with her by his side, failing at muggle card games on the front porch as they watched their grandchildren play.

Not knowing exactly what to do, Y/N retreated to grasping at the doorframe to keep her body from tumbling to the ground. Her mind whirred with the usual possibilities to try and chase away his lateness. Got caught at work, perhaps Ron called. But none of it compared to the looming threat that Harry was scraping any old excuse together in order to stay away. That he was lying, something she never thought she would have to think about him doing. Harry had always been such an honest person, even as a child.

Y/N remembered how nervous he was when he first asked her out during their fifth year at Hogwarts. He had been on this disastrous date with some Ravenclaw she couldn’t quite remember the name of, and come back utterly defeated. Feeling sorry for a friend she had always harboured a crush on, Y/N had stayed up all night convincing him something better was around the corner. It occurred to Harry quite quickly after that that Y/N was that somebody. She liked him, and at the time that was enough to make him think he was in love. To some degree he was, but not nearly as much as Y/N had fallen for him.

It was almost midnight when the front door to their apartment clicked with the turn of a key, and Y/N, still standing in the same sad place by the door to their living room, finally saw Harry step into their home. It had been hours since they were supposed to eat the food that Y/N had worked to hard to create. There it still sat however, with the plates and crystal glasses and unopened bottle of wine in the same place, completely untouched.

Y/N had a thousand things to say to him. Usually it would begin with her asking him where he had been galavanting off to, but not tonight. Tonight was the final tear in her elastic heart, just enough to finally make it tear into two broken, hollowed out pieces. She stood, silent and just watched as he took off his shoes and put his coat back in it’s place without saying anything. Harry wasn’t even trying anymore, and that hurt more than him being late to begin with.

“Sorry for the delay, something came up.” Harry said, standing a few metres away from her. There was no affectionate kiss to the forehead like when they were fresh out of Hogwarts with teenage dreams and ambitions. No arm comfortably slung around her waist in a protective manner. Y/N missed that especially out of all the things that had faded away. That simple gesture that showed he wanted to hold her above all else, above everyone else who had ever wanted to touch the Chosen One like she did.

“Something.” Y/N repeated, no emotion in her voice. It sounded almost like a recording being played back to him, just with any tone sucked away. “It’s always something, isn’t it?” She continued, not finding quite the right words to encompass the flummox of emotions seeping into her veins. “Work. Ron called. Hermione called. Work. Work again.”

“There really was something.” Harry pathetically added. It was a lie of course, he had spent the hours at his desk alone and staring aimlessly at a fountain pen as it leaked ink onto the black carpet of his office.

“Do you really think I don’t know you at all? Stop lying to me, Harry, just stop it. I’m done with being lied to.” Y/N says, her voice remaining as monotonous as ever as if she’s already grieving something. “I want to know what was so important that you’ve missed the dinner I made. The last thirty dinners, in fact.”

Harry just runs a hand through his messy hair as he tries desperately to think of something to say. But he can’t. There’s nothing to say that would make him any less guilty.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He manages to whisper.

“You’ve said that already.” Y/N points out without missing a single beat. She’s exhausted of pretending that she doesn’t know what Harry’s been doing, drained of all energy to put in effort anymore.

“Just tell me what the problem is and we can fix it.” He begs, but his voice is shaky and the words sound as though he’s reading them from a script.

“Fine. When did you stop being in love with me?” Y/N asks, sadness seeping into her voice. Tears began to form in her eyes but were quickly blinked away; the last thing she wanted was for Harry to see her as weak. She might be pathetic, pitiful, stupid for not realising earlier... but Y/N was not going to be weak. Not now, not ever.

“Why would you think that? Y/N, I could never stop loving you.” Harry said, trying to wrap her into a hug only for Y/N to quickly wriggle out of his cold grasp. His fingers left icy burns where they had briefly touched her arm, and Harry’s face dropped as he realised she didn’t want him anywhere near her.

“But you have, Harry. Otherwise you wouldn’t be coming home at ridiculous times, or avoiding even looking at me like you are now. You don’t love me, you tolerate me because you don’t want to be alone. I feel like I’m begging to be in the footnotes in the story of your life, not a main character anymore.” Y/N explained quietly, neither expecting her to be so frank but once the blunt words were spilling from her lips, not even she could stop them. She watched as Harry’s face crumpled, sadness twisting her gut as she fervently tried not to cry herself.

“Y/N... I don’t know what to say.” Harry trailed off. Y/N used to be so infatuated with him, so desperately in love that she was blind to his flaws, much like his ridiculous fan base. But she had grown up from the teenager with a crush to a young woman with heart and with ambitions, and Harry was no longer apart of what she wanted out of life. She had stopped being a part of his long ago, she just hadn’t realised it then.

“Is this in my head? Tell me I’ve got it wrong somehow, Harry. Because please believe me, I could do it. I could leave.”

“I can’t.” Harry finally said. “I did love you once, Y/N. I’m not even sure what happened to us if I’m being completely honest.”

“That’s the problem: you don’t really even want me to stay. But that’s the thing... you built an entire new wizarding world after you defeated You-Know-Who, and where was I? I’m sorry for being dramatic and shit but I’m taking this dagger out and finally going where I need to be.” Y/N continued, not pausing as not to give him any time to ask her to stay, not that he would. Her mind was made up, and even Harry could see that.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Harry whispered, his voice trailing off as Y/N went to get her coat from a peg just beside their front door.

“It’s alright, really. I know you don’t hate me, but both of us know this isn’t working anymore. I deserve someone who celebrates me and my love, and that isn’t you. I’m not really sure that it ever was.” Y/N said, a sad smile gracing her delicate features. She looked almost relieved. Utterly broken-hearted, but relieved all the same. “I’ll come back for my stuff tomorrow.”

“You’re leaving me?” Harry said. Even though she had told him why, it still came as a shock. Y/N nodded. “I’m so sorry I didn’t treat you how you deserve.”

“I’m sorry about that too.” Y/N replied, both warmly and coldly at the same time. “Goodbye, Harry Potter. All the best.”

“Goodbye.” It was all Harry could fathom to say as she pressed her engagement ring back into his hand, the final recognition of their relationship officially being over. It was a beautiful piece of jewellery, one she at one point she thought she would never take off her finger. There were no more words exchanged about the gesture for none were needed, all had been said already.

One simple word that locked the door on their relationship, the one that Y/N had finally gained the courage to close in the first place. It had taken her so long, so pathetically long, to realise that something wasn’t right. That Harry was meant to love her, that love shouldn’t and can’t survive while being one sided. It shouldn’t have to be tolerated, and Y/N had finally learned that through all those lonely nights of wondering where Harry was, what he was getting up to at work, if he even was there.

But as Y/N’s grandma used to tell her every Christmas, as one door closes, another always opens.

A/N: hoped you liked it anon!!!

Nancy xx

#harry potter angst #harry potter fic #harry potter x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fluff #Gryffindor #golden trio era #harry potter x yn #harry potter x you #nancy writes

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writing-red · 4 years

Text

from the dining table

draco malfoy x reader (mentions of harry potter x reader)

summary: You and Draco broke up and he is trying desperately to get in touch with you even though he knows exactly why you aren’t picking up the phone (song fic based on harry styles’ from the dining table)

request: @runninglownad hii! can i request a draco imagine based on from the dining table by harry? thanks sooo much <3

warnings: this is super angsty, breakup, toxic relationship, sad anger and drinking

a/n: I hope you enjoy!! and photo credit to @fixedunit

word count: 2.1k

Woke up alone in this hotel room

Played with myself, where were you?

It was seven when Draco finally decided to stop fighting the insomnia. Thoughts of you claiming his mind and making him entirely unable to find sleep. The white hotel sheets were curled around him, pillows on the floor, broken glass shattered around him like an unholy halo, and the room in total disarray. He laid there, staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to do with himself, unsure of what to do with himself now that he had lost you. He so desperately wished that he could squeeze his eyes shut only to open them and find you laying there next to him, wishing desperately to see that incredible beaming smile of yours, the one that would turn your cheeks rosy red.

He rose from the bed and navigated around the mess on the floor to get to the bar in the room. With a heavy hand he poured himself a scotch, as he continued to think of you; the feeling of your lips on his, the lines of witty banter you always seemed to whip out of nowhere, and the idea that he may never hear the rasp of your voice in the morning again.

Fell back to sleep, I got drunk by noon

I’ve never felt less cool

He abandoned the glass dragged the bottle back to the bed, putting on the television as a distraction. He couldn’t seem to find a program that didn’t make him think of you, he couldn’t get the sound of your sweet and joyous laugh echoing through whatever space you held.

Tears streamed down his face as he downed the scotch, he felt like an absolute child. Crying over a girl, drinking, and sleeping. The pattern was pathetic and the last thing Draco Malfoy was, was pathetic. Yet it seems you could reduce him down to a blubbering child and all he would think of is how terribly he missed you, and how badly he wanted to smell your deep ambrosial perfume. By the time he woke up again the digital clock next to the bed was flashing 12:13 as if it was mocking him, goading him to wake up and get over himself.

We haven’t spoke since you went away

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Your voicemail, the one you had recorded with him, your voice was happy, and it sounded as if you would never be sad again.

“You’ve got Y/n” joyful, happy, in love. “I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks.”

“Y/n, darling?” he muttered. “Look I know that I fucked up, and that you don’t want to talk but can we please just go get coffee, I want to see you, and I don’t want to end things on that note. Please, I know that we aren’t getting back together, I just, Y/n I need to see you.”

“You’ve got Y/n! I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks,” Draco was mocked by the shrill beep that followed the sound of your voice.

“Hey, I’m sorry about all the voicemail’s and all of the text messages, if you don’t want to see me please just tell me so. Look I just, Y/n, I am miserable and I really just want to apologize for everything face to face. Please don’t just ignore me.”

“You’ve got Y/n! I am buuuuusy and I am so very sorry I missed your call but shoot me a text or leave a voicemail after the beep and we shall speak at another time! Thanks,” Draco listened solemnly as the voicemail played wishing this wasn’t the only way he could hear your voice.

“Look, I get it if you don’t want to talk to me, just, tell me yourself don’t just ignore me. Please,” he was desperate, to see you without tears streaming down your face, tears he had caused.

I saw your friend that you know from work

He said you feel just fine

I see you gave him my old t-shirt

More of what was once mine

Weeks past and Draco didn’t hear back from you. He knew that you were forcing him to move on and he didn’t want to accept it but he knew that he had no other choice. He was back to work, back to normal, although no matter what he did he couldn’t seem to get the thought of you out his head. He was drinking, more than usual, smoking more than usual, and he had destroyed his fair share of hotel rooms. It was time for him to start living his life again.

You had always loved coffee, going to coffee shops, trying out different drinks, people watching, you had made the whole ordeal a habit for Draco and now it was a way for him to hold onto you. He thought that if he was lucky enough he’d catch you at one of them.

Today he went before work, luckily he had skipped the morning coffee shop rush and there were just a few other people inside the shop.

“I’ll have a black drip coffee, and a croissant,” he said, handing the barista money.

“Here’s your change, and it’ll all come up at that bar over there,” she said gesturing to the end of the bar.

“Thanks,” Draco said kindly as he stepped over to where the barista had gestured to wait for his order.

“Malfoy,” he heard a familiar voice.

“Potter,” Draco said, surprised to see the man you had both gone to school with, and who you now worked with.

“Nice to see you, what have you been up to recently” Harry asked him.

“Just work,” Draco observed Harry, the man he had always been so jealous of, for a moment when his eyes caught something similar. “That’s a bit of a posh shirt for you isn’t it?”

“Ah- it was in Y/n’s flat, I mean she gave it to me because it was in her flat and it’s my size and all that.”

“Got it. I think that’s mine,” he said, his eyes still on the shirt as the barista placed his coffee and pastry on the bar in front of them. “Tell Y/n I say hi?”

“Sure thing mate, she’s uh doing pretty alright,” Harry offered and Draco nodded, swiftly exiting the coffee shop refusing the urge to start crying over you again.

I see it’s written, it’s all over his face

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Potter. You had to choose Potter of all the men you knew to sleep with. It was as if you were trying to hurt him, trying to drive the knife further into his heart. That night Draco proceeded to call you all of thirteen times, four of the calls sober, and the other nine varying levels of drunk until he finally blacked out.

All he wanted was to hold you one more time, to hear you talk over a movie, shout out the lyrics to some old Bon Jovi song, watch you dance atop your kitchen table, you were always the perfect antagonist to silence and now it seemed that silence was all he could hear. People would speak to him and he couldn’t hear it, he would try and remember the sound of you, your singing, your voice, your laugh, but his memories of you were only pictures.

Maybe one day you’ll call me and tell me that you’re sorry too

But you, you never do

The ringer on his phone was always on, and when it buzzed he picked it up as quickly as a man could. Although, he was routinely disappointed to find that it was either Blaise, his boss, his mum, or a hotel calling to let him know of the damages done and the charges he would incur. But it didn’t matter, none of those calls mattered because they weren't you.

He just wanted you back, and all he could do was call and call, while picturing you lying in Harry Potter’s arms. You had chosen to be with Potter, and you had chosen to leave Draco, and Draco just couldn’t cope with your choices.

Woke up the girl who looked just like you

I almost said your name

He didn’t know this ones name, and he didn’t know the last one’s name. These girls that circled through his bed, each of them vaguely resembling you in one way or another. Today he awoke to seeing your nose, and your hair on someone else. Sleeping with these women upset him more than it comforted him, but it was at least something to do with himself.

“Y/-” he stopped himself. “Hey, I’ve got to go to work.” He said, shaking the girl awake.

“Can’t I just leave after you?” She groaned, her eyes still closed.

“No, get up,” Draco said as he got out of bed and pulled the duvet off of her. “Now,”

“Fine, I’m going,” she said, taking her time to draw herself up. “And I promise I won’t be back.”

And there she went, another person lost whether he wanted her or not. All he knew how to do was drive people away. He didn’t want to get over you, ever since your trip to New York you had been the love of his life. But now he resolved to living his life as a ghost, constantly in terrible silence without you.

Comfortable silence is so overrated

Why won’t you ever be the first one to break?

Even my phone misses your call, by the way

Taglist - @sarcasticallywitty15 @fred-love-bot

#Draco Malfoy #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco fanfiction #draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #Draco Malfoy angst #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfiction #from the dining table

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gyllenhaalstories · 4 years

Photo

SOUTHPAW, PART 2: HEART OF GLASS.

summary: rapper!jake took more time than planned to make sure his surprise pleases you. in the meantime, you got impatient and decided to fix the problem yourself, but without his permission. that was a huge mistake. he comes home and finds you on all four, pleasuring yourself shamelessly. you, eventually, figure out you’re being watched by your boyfriend, but you refuse to move, frozen by the anticipation of what is next to come. however, all you can hear is a shocked gasp that did not come from jake.

word count: 2111 words.

warnings: smut (duh), masturbation, threesome (or foursome?), degradation, use of toys, dom/sub, m/m interactions, spitroast, (sloppy) oral, d/p, creampie, anal and coarse language.

notes: miley cyrus singing heart of glass gives me hope in humanity. anyway! here’s the second part of southpaw, which mixes the angry sex headcanon and just more filth. it was supposed to be the third part but i loved it so much i couldn’t wait to share it! i hope you guys enjoy!!!! oh, have i forgotten to mention it includes singer!tom? and they said avengers infinity war was the biggest crossover in history...

“Honey, I’m home.” Jake slammed the door open, but frowned when he did not find you on the couch. The living room looked messy, with pillows thrown on the ground and the remote control lost somewhere between the cushions. Not only ten minutes ago, he had texted you and you sent him a photo, cuddling with a blanket while watch television. What on Earth could have happened within ten minutes?

A lot had happened. It started with Jake leaving you hanging quite possibly all day long. Your eyes were glued to your phone, but he took forever to reply to your text messages. He told you he was at the record label, but he would come home early to finish what you two had started this morning. The problem was, he never came home. And you never got to come either. What a shame.

You waited, patiently at first. You did all you could to keep your mind busy. You even did the dishes. You hated that. You soon understood Jake would probably stay out for the night, so you had enough. Why was his surprise so important? What could he be planning, a whole wedding? The thought made your heart skip a beat.

So there you were. Your clothes were all over the bedroom floor. Your phone was blasting Jake’s songs. The only other noise in the room was your moans, they were loud and needy. You were on your knees, looking in front of you as you bopped up and down the pink glass dildo Jake bought you a while ago. You rarely got to use it, and you regretted it. The dildo felt divine. The cold glass instead of your heat sent shivers to your entire body. It did not feel as good as your boyfriend, but since he was not here to take care of the mess he made, it was better than nothing.

This morning, he had left in a hurry. He got a phone call from a producer and he left you, legs spread wide and your orgasm only a couple of thrusts away. “Some fuckin’ important shit,” He explained. “I’ll be back soon to finish you up. Don’t you there touch yourself, don’t be a stupid bitch”.

He would never know. You’d take a shower right after. You would clean up. You had all the time in the world, or so you thought.

“Where the fuck are you?” Jake shouted from the hallways, but you could not hear him.

You were humming to the lyrics of your favourite song from his in between moans. You had dropped down on all four, rolling your hips and riding the dildo with all the energy you had. You were so close.

So close, that Jake could see it from the door frame. So close, that he got hard just by the sight. “You’re just a dumb bitch.”

You heard a gasp.

It did not come from you, nor did it come from Jake.

It came from the smaller body behind Jake’s shoulder. You slowed your movements and squinted. It could not be...

“I brought my friend Tom as a surprise for you and that’s how you thank me? By disobeying? Fuckin’ pathetic.”

His friend Tom. You lifted yourself up from the dildo, which fell on the group in a loud sound. Tom waved awkwardly. He used his other hand to palm at his crotch, where you could see his growing buldge. Tom, you remembered him. Your boyfriend brought him over a few times. You overheard they were working together. You liked him. He was talented, he had a great voice, he was cute, but he had one flaw: he was so in love with Jake that you wondered how he had not noticed already.

You stuttered an apology, as you stared quizzically at Tom. You were in big trouble and moving to cover yourself or put your clothes back on were not options. So you stayed there, kneeling and confused. “A surprise?”

Jake laughed. “Tell her why you’re here, Tom.”

Why did he speak to Tom with such softness but treated you like shit? You did not know, but you were liking it.

“Jake is sorry for making you wait all day, uh...” He had forgotten your name and his cheeks were turning cherry red. “Miss.”

You let out a long sigh. Jake smirked. You had never been called this way before.

“And he wanted to make it up to you. We wanted that.” He looked over at Jake.

Your boyfriend encouraged him with a nod as he walked closer to you, picking up the slick toy from your feet. He presented it to your lips, you opened them. He pushed the cold again glass dildo slowly in.

“We want to fuck you.” Such filthy words coming out of the mouth of the guy who sang about sunflowers and sunsets sent another wave of shivers to your core. “Double the fun.”

“Triple.” Jake corrected and pushed the dildo so deep you gagged around it. He pulled it out and laughed again. “Wanna show Tom you can be useful?”

You nodded. There was no time for questions or hesitations. If you wanted to come, you had to do whatever you were asked to do.

“Crawl.” Jake ordered.

And crawl, you did.

Tom unzipped his pants and took them off. You watched his cock, thick and red from the blood rushing through it, bop with excitement. You licked him, from the bottom all the way to the tip. He had just enough time to take his light coral hoodie off before he pressed his hand at the back of your head and forced you to take him all the way down your throat.

You gagged instantly.

Jake was stroking himself, he had taken his clothes off too, but you could not see him. “Use her.”

The way Jake was talking like you barely existed turned you on even more. Tom started to fuck your throat. It hurt, it really did, but it felt so good. The more spit that covered his throat, the louder were Tom’s moans. He was on cloud nine when you cupped his balls.

“Don’t come yet.”

And Tom pulled away. He was listening to everything Jake said, obeying like you did. Jake was delighted by the sight of your face and breasts covered with your spit while Tom’s cock kept throbbing.

“You’re gonna take all we give you, right?” Jake grabbed your neck and pulled you back, so your back was arched beautifully. “I asked you a question, bitch.”

“Yes, please, give me everything. I’ll take you so well. Please!”

Jake spit in your open mouth and he moved to the floor as well. He pushed on your neck. Your face was down, close to Tom’s feet as Jake used both of his hands to spread your ass cheeks open and expose your wet holes.

He spit again, this time on your cunt. You were still stretched from the toy, so he had very little difficulty shoving his hard cock inside of you. He bottomed out, making you gasp.

You thanked him again and again, with each thrust. You whined when he pulled out of you to work on your asshole.

He gathered some of your wetness and spread it on the hole. He rubbed on it gently and pressed one finger it. Then a second and a third. He was careful, he listened to your reactions closely.

“More! Fuck, I need more!”

Jake slapped your ass hard. “Shut this bitch up.”

Tom helped you sit up and he presented his cock to your mouth again while Jake kept working you open until he was satisfied.

Jake switched positions. He was underneath you and Tom was kneeling down.

“May I?” Tom asked, Jake nodded. “Are you ready, Miss?”

“Yes!” You cried out. “For what?”

“Such a dumb baby.”

Tom started to tease your asshole with the tip of his cock and he finally pushed it inside of you. He was slow, even slower than Jake with his fingers. He made sure you were not in pain too muchy and he spit a on you a good amount.

Jake was cupping your face, holding it lovingly while he watched your eyes roll inwards at the feeling of Tom’s dick inside of your ass. “How does she feel?”

“Amazing, sir. She feels really amazing.”

“What do we say?”

“Thank you, Miss. Oh fuck... She’s so tight.”

Jake smiled proudly and wiped the tears of pleasure from your cheeks. He talked to you the whole time you were taking Tom’s cock. He complimented you, he encouraged you, he apologized for bneing home late. A lot was happening at the same time.

But it was not enough. “I...” You panted, catch both men’s attention. “I need more. I want more cock.”

Tom pulled out of your ass, as he felt himself getting close again. Jake wa busy kissing you so he took the initiative and teased your pussy with his fat tip.

"Hold the fuck on.” Jake shouted, frowning.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I just thought...”

“It’s my pussy.” Jake barked. He reached between your bodies to place his cock near your pussy. You were dripping wet. He licked his lips. God how he wish he could taste you right now. He finally shoved his cock inside of you. He left you no time to adjust and started pounding into you.

Tom helped you meet Jake’s hip thrusts, taking him so much deeper. And just like that, you came hard around Jake who did not stop moving. He helped you ride on your pleasure and he looked at Tom again.

Tom pushed himself into your ass. You felt even tighter than earlier.

Your moans were driving them crazy, but Jake wanted to listen to the music that was still playing. It was his and Tom’s first collaboration together. Back when Tom was still innocent, too shy to even ask for a glass of water when he came over to rehearse the chorus of his song.

“Shut the fuck up.” Jake told you and grabbed the dildo, shoving it in your mouth again. He fucked your throat and your pussy in mtching thrusts while Tom moved slowly inside of you.

The song finally came to an end and you were crying, moaning, screaming. You were an incoherent mess.

“Do you love being full?” Jake asked and you nodded, mumbling inaudible words. “You’re such a cockslut, willing to take everything we present to your filthy holes. Take us. Take us three.”

And you did, as best as you could. You bopped your head against the class dildo and started to rock your hips again. The rhythym was off but it felt heavenly.

“Sir I’m... I’m gonna come!” Tom warned.

“Hold it.”

So Tom pulled out of you and watched your gaping hole closely.

Jake let go of the dildo for good and reached between your slapping skin so he could tease your clit and bring you to your second orgasm. You kept thanking him and praising him. You were so good to him no matter how roughly he was fucking you.

“I want your cum, Jake, please, give it to me! I want it so bad! I’ve needed it all day!”

“So that’s why you didn’t listen to my rules.” That was Jake said before he buried his face in your sweaty neck and shot his load inside of you. He decided to give Tom a show and pulled out, so his cum, mixed with your own juices, dripped out of your clenching pussy.

“Thank you, Daddy,” You tried to kiss Jake, but he sat up. You had nothing but your wobbly and tired legs to use as leverage.

Tom walked closer to your face and Jake stood up. He spit on his hand and went behind Tom so he could jerk him off. Tom came in long strokes on your face and some reached your chest.

Jake milked him until the last drop. He pat on his shoulder, congratulating him on fucking you so good.

You pouted and Jake giggled.

He really giggled. He brought Tom closer to you again and he let you suck them both clean. When you took both of their tips in your mouth, he wanted to take you for another round. But it was late, and Tom had to leave.

“Thank you.” Tom said shyly.

You gave him a big smile while you gathered the remaining drops of cum from your face and licked them off your fingers. “Your next collab better be the most awesome song ever to match what happened.” You sighed happily.

#jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #series: southpaw #topic: rapper!jake #topic: singer!tom

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glowonu · 4 years

Text

untitled love song by henry

woozi x reader, a little song fic based on this sweet tune~~

fluff, 1.6k words

There’s no title I just wrote this as it came Your eyes, your nose, even your lips I wanted to make it into a song My heart fluttered all night in front of the piano All day, I think of how your eyes and smile will look As you listen to this song And without knowing, a full day passes

Jihoon groans into his hands before looking up at the screen again. The lyrics that paint the document in front of him glare back at him confrontingly. He can’t believe that you’ve overwhelmed his emotions to this point. It’s as if he had blacked out, only to wake up before a page full of poetry about you.

He misses you dearly, you’re away on an interstate internship for your masters and he hasn’t seen you in so long. Pictures of you are embedded in his mind and the soft way you smiled at him in the last video call can’t help but to remind him how he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

He chuckles and closes the document before Bumzu or Soonyoung can get even the tiniest glance at it. He hums before realising that you have talked about this before, and after your internship you do only have a semester of study left, maybe it isn’t such an insane idea.

Jihoon clicks back to the song he’s actually supposed to be writing, but the poetry of you plays on repeat in the back of his mind. He hopes you’ll like it, a weird sort of adrenaline rushes through him as his eyes catch the document thumbnail on his desktop every so often.

Girl you keep driving me crazy I can’t believe I’m in love If only I could have you, oh baby

You smile at him over the phone, showing Jihoon around the park you’re currently sitting in with a promise to take him there sometime. Your internship isn’t too far away, realistically either of you could catch the five-hour train to see each other, but both of your schedules are packed to the brim, full of commitments and deadlines.

Jihoon watches you fondly and whispers out a soft “I miss you,”

Your gaze softens, and you quieten down. “I miss you too baby,”

The line quietens, and you simply gaze at each other through the phone screen. Jihoon hums a breath of thanks to the engineers who made it possible for him to still be able to see your gorgeous smile as you grin at him, your smiling eyes sparkling at him.

“I’ll be home soon love, just in time for our anniversary! You won’t miss me for too long now!”

Later that night, Mingyu laughs at him. “Man, you’ve been dating for what, 3 years now? And it’s still like you’ve got a high-school crush on her,”

Jihoon chucks a pillow at him, and Mingyu shuts up with a loud ‘Oof’.

I’m singing, In all of these notes My truth is there Only one in the world It’s a love song for you I want to touch your heart Till there are tears in your heart The only and best love song for you When you smile at me I think of a sweet melody

There’s a small blessing in the odd placement of this day off occurring in the middle of the week. While Jihoon would have appreciated a long weekend to go visit you, he secretly appreciates having the Wednesday off to hide away in his studio to work on his little surprise for you.

He uses the original lyrics he had made up earlier but tweaks them for the new purpose of the track. He wants to make sure that you know how honest, sincere, and deep his love is for you. On a normal day, with a normal project, he is already a massive perfectionist, with this project, he almost feels nauseous thinking about how you might react.

It’s late in the afternoon when you call Jihoon, his phone flashing with a photo Minghao had taken of you curled together backstage at a show. He yawns before answering the call, your smiling face taking up the window of his phone screen.

“Hey Hoonie! How’s your day off been?” You start, bright and happy, you barely let him answer as you chat away about all you’ve been up to.

“Have you been working on a song?” You ask as you finally notice Jihoon’s surroundings. Jihoon’s cheeks bloom pink as he nods.

“Just a project that will probably end up for another group,” Jihoon says, a little white lie. You merely smile, ignorant to what the project really is for.

Jihoon goes on to talk about his members, and when he imitates Chan, you can’t help but to laugh uncontrollably.

Jihoon thinks he has a new idea for a melody.

I’m in love with you Ooh I’m in love with you You know Girl you keep driving me crazy I can’t believe I’m in love If only I could have you, oh baby

It's finally only a few weeks until you get back, and Jihoon is vibrating with a mix of excitement and nerves. He’s been to too many shops in any free time he has had. And yet, nothing seems to be the right fit for you. It’s been the same with recording, he’s tweaked every note, beat, and pause, to make sure everything inside of his heart is expressed in the track.

In the end, he decides to strip it all back. He pours his heart out onto the piano, and everything starts to come together. Gone are the extra elements to the songs. He leaves it at his voice and a soft, emotional piano instrumental.

And that evening, as he shops, Jeonghan trailing along with him, he finds what he’s been looking for.

I’m singing In all of these notes My truth is there Only one in the world It’s a love song for you I want to touch your heart Till there are tears in your heart The one and only best love song for you

Finally.

Finally, you’re back together again.

You yack your head off to him in the car, on the way to a hole-in-the-wall diner from the train station. And he listens contentedly, appreciating the way your voice sounds, now not limited by how good his internet connection is, or the audio quality of your phones.

Your face lights up as you arrive at the small diner, the menu includes some of your favourite comfort foods. Looking over at Jihoon, your heart jumps into your throat at how fondly he gazes at you. You both fluster awkwardly as you enter the restaurant.

“I have a gift for you,” Jihoon announces after you finish up your meals. It’s late, and the two of you are the only ones left in the restaurant.

Your eyes widen, and you protest as you wipe some food off of the side of your mouth, but the way your hair falls on your bare face as you sit with one knee up makes the weight in his pocket seem all the more perfect.

Jihoon chuckles at your protests, and passes his earphones to you. “Listen,”

Confused and hesitant, you take the earphones, and once you put them on, he plays the track on his phone. As the notes play, you listen to Jihoon sing. You listen to him open his heart for you, you listen to him express every detail of his love and affections, you listen to the pure emotion that he holds for you and you alone.

Before you know it, the song is over, there are tears trailing down your cheeks, and you sniffle helplessly as Jihoon leans across the table to use his sleeve to wipe away your tears before holding your hand gently.

“I love you,” Jihoon says,

You sob, somewhat pathetically, as you laugh, “I love you too,”

“I,” Jihoon starts, then takes in a shaky breath, “I want to spend the rest of my life with you.” He continues, eyes trained on you as you watch him, listening intently. “You know my heart, and I think that song was an explanation enough. I don’t think I could imagine my life without you.”

You’re frozen, and as he pulls a box out of his pocket you can’t help but grip his hand a little tighter, before letting it go.

He opens the box, and a simple but elegant ring stands out against the dingy diner, and your lazy day clothes. “So if you’ll have me-”

“Yes,” You laugh wetly, as the tears run down your face, “Yes, of course,”

“Hey, I haven’t even finished asking you yet,” Jihoon laughs, and sneakily wipes away a few of his own tears before slipping the ring onto your finger.

Ooh This song’s for you I need nobody but you It’s crazy the way that I feel Oh oh oh I love you, all of you With all my heart, I’m singing this love song

It’s the early hours of the morning as you walk along the Han river, hand in hand, the ring glinting on your finger prettily. The both of you don’t want to go home yet.

You start humming along to the song Jihoon made for you, he smiles and sings along. As you walk under one of the light up bridges, he pulls you close to him, and presses a soft kiss to your lips.

My truth is there I want to touch your heart The one and only best love song for you.

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justasparkwritings · 4 years

Text

Merry & Bright: Baby, Please

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Previous: Beacon in the Night

Jungkook stares out the window of his bedroom, snow falling lightly, the only sound, his breath, slowly in and out. His phone, volume on, twirling absently between his fingers. In the distance, he can hear the other members laughing and yelling, their conversation and dinner prep echoing. The Yoongi’s space is attempting to be filled with their joy, as if laughing twice as hard would make up for his absence. Jungkook knows soon he’ll have to go out, pretend to be fine with the situation, and eat dinner. He’ll play make believe for as long as he can, but somewhere between dinner and the first movie or round of whatever game his hyungs force him to pick, Jungkook’s mind will slip.

As he slips, his five hyungs will turn to the only thing that loosens him up, making his sadness bite a little bit less… Christmas Karaoke. They’ll queue the tracks, mixing in group songs with power ballads, a few hip hop and R&B tunes to balance the candy-coated sugar coma of the season, and for an hour or two, Jungkook won’t be swallowed in despair. But then, your favorite song will play, an accident, they didn’t know, and you will be the only thing on his mind. The tears will flow, mixing with whatever alcoholic beverage he’s consuming, and Jungkook will disappear into his bedroom, try not to call you, and force himself into an empty slumber.

Instead, he’s staying on his bed, watching the snow fall in increasingly larger flakes, flurries swirling and sticking softly to the ground, building upon one another to form snowbanks.

It’s in the middle of his reverie that his phone rings, your photo popping up.

“Honey,” He says softly, doe eyes staring into yours.

“Hi,” You sigh, his voice always feels like a warm embrace. It’s familiar and kind, steadfast in its ability to sooth you.

“You look beautiful,” He smiles, eyes not crinkling at the edges.

“Thanks, you look ethereal as always,” You smile, faltering as yours refuses to reach past your cheek bones.

“Ethereal?” His expression is quizzical.

“Yeah, I feel like it typically describes Jimin, but that hazy snow filter you’ve got going is just making you look so… heavenly,” You shrug.

“You’re making me blush,” Jungkook’s smile moves closer to his wide eyes, nearly reaching as his cheeks turn a soft shade of crimson.

“What are you up to?” You ask.

“Sitting, feeling pathetic,” He says, the hint of a smile disappearing completely. You watch as his expression completely falls.

“Kook,” You say, sympathetic to his pain.

“I’m trying not to be so, sad, but it’s too hard,” He runs a hand through his hair, tussling the locks to one side, his undercut on full display.

“I’m trying too, it just fucking sucks,” You say, instinctively adjusting your ponytail.

“We had a plan, you know? We had a plan, we had arrangements, we had so much fun last year, and I was just so excited to share this Christmas with you, here,” His words are tumbling out of him, succinctly and organized.

“I was looking forward to it... I bought a new hat,” You offer.

“Oh?” He asks, happy for any sliver of joy.

“Yeah, let me get it,” You stood up quickly, showing Jungkook your mid drift and legging clad legs as you moved through your bedroom to find your new beanie.

“Aye, what are you wearing?” He asks, staring at the space your face was just in.

“What? It’s a long sleeve cropped athletic shirt thing,” You answer, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

“You look so sexy,” He says, a smirk on his lips, lust flickering in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You gasp.

“Y/N,” He says eyebrow cocking.

“Isn’t my new beanie cute?” You deflect the rising tension by placing your new cashmere beanie on your head. You bobble, showing the plush toggle on top.

“It’s very cute,” Jungkook laughs.

“I sent a few things to you,” You say, taking your hat off and sitting back down. “And by a few, I mean two boxes…”

“Two boxes? How big are these boxes?” Laughter was in his voice as he waits for your response.

“They’re standard, Jungkook,” You’re a little embarrassed by the amount of humor he’s finding in this admission of your Christmas splurge.

“Standard? Oh my god, they’re huge!” Jungkook can’t stop laughing.

“I got carried away, okay?” Your tone is defensive and chaste, a blush in your cheeks.

“What’s in them?” He asks, the crinkles in his eyes present as his bunny teeth part to laugh again.

“Goodies,” You say, trying to hide your smile by glaring at him.

“Mm, what kind of goodies?” Jungkook settles down, taking a deep breath to tuck his laughs away.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Jungkook,” You respond, faux shock laced in your words.

Jungkook rolls his eyes at your gentle scolding.

“What’s in the boxes?” He asks again.

“Well, something for your hyungs,” You tell him.

“You didn’t have to,” He’s always amazed by your generosity.

“I know, I wanted to. It’s nothing big... I don’t know if they’ll even like it. They’re all wrapped, with their names on them. And I sent a few gifts for you, one from my aunts, one from my mom, and a few from me,” You rattle off the list, which seems far longer than Jungkook thought it would be.

“You didn’t have to get me anything,” He says, a soft smile on his lips.

“Jungkook, it’s Christmas,” You remind him.

“I know, but they’re just items,” His words are delicate, he knows how you feel about the holiday.

“I put a lot of thought into them okay?” Your annoyance is clear in the way your lips punctuate okay.

“Hey, you know I’ll love them,” His eyes are trained on you, watching as you soften.

“And you know, some cookies that will probably be smashed or stale… and a few, other items,” You shrug, a flirtatious look in your eyes.

“Other items?” Jungkook raises his eyebrows, smirk on his lips. Had you sent him what he hoped for?

“Mm, oh and something for your parents and Jung-Hyun.” You nod, signally the end of your list.

“Jagi, you’re too sweet.”

“I know, my thoughtfulness is unparalleled,” You shrug at the compliment.

“As is your humility,” He chuckles.

“You love it,” You smirk.

“I sent you something too,” Jungkook says, leaning back against his headboard.

“Oh?” You’re not entirely surprised, but Jungkook has a way of getting you the perfect thing that you’d never in a million years pick for yourself. Your favorite cashmere sweater, the Chanel purse you vowed to yourself you’d buy when you made any money (which frankly, you never did), your favorite winter coat, a ring with gems from your birth months, a 14k white gold necklace with his initials, a tribute you were sure was tacky, but always made you feel closer to him… a photo album filled with your most precious memories… The year he created an entire journal full of art, poems, lyrics, that reminded him of you… You wanted for nothing, and Jungkook gave you everything.

“Yes, it should be there soon,” Jungkook’s smile begins to falter.

“Mine will be too,” You look down, picking at the piece of paper sat on your desk.

“You’re not going to surprise me and send you know, yourself?” He whispers, knowing the answer.

“No, I’m not shipping myself to you,” Your voice is hollow, eyes still downcast.

“But can you?” His voice is small, fragile, weak.

“Honey,” You sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t keep having this conversation, it hurts too much. It’s just one holiday. We spent decades without each other, can’t we make it through this?”

“It’s been months, Y/N. I’ve tried holding back the tears, I’ve tried to sing and deck the halls with everyone, but it doesn’t feel like Christmas. I miss you in my bones,” Jungkook’s free hand clutches his chest, his eyelids becoming heavy as the tears start to form.

“I feel it too… We’ve never gone this long without seeing each other,” You admit.

The isolation of being apart from your lover for nearly a year… a year of fear, of anxiety, of sleepless nights and terrors as the world became overwhelmed by a pandemic, and the states were thrust into another round of Black Lives Matter protests coupled with an election that could be deemed as one of, if not the most, important election on American soil. All you wanted was Jungkook. His presence, ever calming, his joy, always contagious, was what your soul craved. You spent hours on video calls and phone calls, which often devolved into video sex, any form of intimacy you could muster to tie you to one another. The promotional work of BE, paired with the success of Dynamite and their Bang Bang Con and ONE concerts, Jungkook had zero ability to even try and find his way to you, or to chart a course for you to find him.

It wasn’t fucking possible. He knew it, you knew it, and few things had been as devastating as realizing you were going an indefinite amount of time without each other.

“Who am I going to kiss at midnight? Jimin?” Jungkook scoffs.

“You’re performing, there’ll be so-

“No, it won’t be you. I’m not kissing anyone except for you and our children,” Jungkook’s remark is flippant, a call back to a conversation you’d had months ago, wherein he asked where you thought your lives were headed.

“Jungkook!” You say, eyes wide. You’d vowed to put talk of babies or marriage on the back burner until he had an idea of when he would do military service, before 30 or after. You hadn’t caught baby fever, but with Jungkook you knew it would hit and hit hard.

“I didn’t know I would hurt this much, if I did, fuck, I would’ve flown you out sooner or come to you-

“Jungkook you couldn’t have come to me, and there’s no way the government would’ve let me in.” Your tone is stern, moving quickly towards your limit of heartache.

“I don’t fucking care!” Jungkook’s tears are flowing freely. You wonder if it was possible for anyone to cry us much as the two of you have in the past ten months.

“I miss you every second of everyday,” Jungkook’s heartache punctuates every word.

“Write me a song,” You suggest.

“What?”

“Write me a song, or five, fuck an entire album. Put your anguish into music, sing for me,” Your eyes are bright with possibilities.

“I can do that,” He says, the idea sweeping over him like a wave in the pacific.

“I’ll be here, embroidering and puzzling my sadness away,” You offer a smile. “Might as well put it into something productive.”

“What if it doesn’t work?” He asks.

“It won’t, I know it won’t, but can’t we just pretend it will?” You assured.

“It’s hard to pretend my heart isn’t breaking over and over and over again.” Jungkook wipes his eyes, slightly alarmed at the number of tears he’d produced.

“Mine is too,” Your words were soft, almost an echo of his hurt.

“So, just, find a way to come home. Baby, please, just, come home for Christmas.”

Next: Pretend That We’re There

#jeon jungkook #Jungkook & reader #jungkook x reader #Jungkook/you #BTS drabbles #BTS fanfic #BTS fan fic #Jungkook drabbles #Jungkook fanfic #25 days of christmas #christmas writing challenge #Christmas baby please come home #merry and bright

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etoileholland · 4 years

Text

I'd gladly surrender myself to you, body and soul

Anonymous asked: I’ve always loved this idea. A lonely Tom wanders into an old jazz club where reader is a last minute substitute sultry singer. The two lock eyes and reader makes the first move by getting flirty during her song and Tom is desperate to find her after the show.

Pairing: Tom and female reader

Word count: 3.8k

Warnings: none

A/N: I loved this idea too, thank you so much for requesting it! I really hope you enjoy it and I hope I did it justice. As always, let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

Also the songs I used in order were: Crazy He Calls Me by Billie Holliday, Autumn Leaves by Nat King Cole and Why Don’t You Do Right? by Benny Goodman (all song lyrics are italicised)

Tom solemnly walked down the streets of Greenwich Village in New York, his coat collar popped to attempt to conceal his face, which also helped provide some warmth against the chilling autumn wind. It was nearly midnight, and Tom was enjoying some solace in a city that never sleeps.

He hadn’t wanted to be bothered by anyone, while at the same time wanting people to care. Since fame, he’s grown increasingly lonely as people cared less about him and more about the idea of him.

Looking up at the vast skyscrapers and massive apartment buildings that lined the streets, he wondered how many of their inhabitants felt as lonely as he, a thought he pondered for a while.

Tom took solace in knowing that many of the loneliest and most talented people have spent time and come from this city, and somehow that was a comforting thought. In the distance he heard some smooth jazz echoing in the streets, and as he walked down Seventh Avenue, the music grew louder. A few blocks down, he was standing in front of an old jazz club- its name, ‘Village Vanguard’. The name of the club was illuminated in a red neon glow that was a stark difference to the noir of the night sky.

Hesitantly, he gently pushed open the red doors and was met with an intense red lighting illuminating the club, the smell of cigar smoke lingering in the atmosphere. The club was intimate, maybe only fifty seats, and on the wall were photos of famous jazz musicians who’ve performed here. He wandered over to the bartender who was talking to an older gentleman about something pressing. He took a seat right nearby the talking strangers, slightly eavesdropping in on their conversation.

“What do you mean he’s out sick? I know that kid is lying to me.” The older gentleman stated. He was a hefty gentleman who spoke with a dangling pipe in his mouth, not caring that small particles of ash floated downwards onto the bar table. He wore a gold ring on his pinky and had a deep bellowing voice.

“Listen, all I know is he texted me and said he can’t make it, but he knows of a replacement. He called her a ‘throwback to the golden era of jazz’, with a voice as sweet and sultry as honey. He promised he wouldn’t let you down.” He poured some scotch into a glass, added ice and slid it over to Tom.

“Um how did you know-”

“I have a gift, I know what everyone’s usual is without even knowing them.” The bartender interrupted, his gaze shifting back to the older man.

“He better not be lying to me, that idiot kid. God if he weren’t my grandson I would’ve fired him immediately.” He downed his drink and looked at Tom, who instantly tensed up.

“Where are you from kid?” The gentleman puffed on his cigar, allowing the smoke to sit in his lungs a second before blowing it into the bartender’s face.

“London.”

“So what brings you here to New York, Londoner?”

Tom took a second to contemplate the man’s question, deciding whether or not he should tell the truth. “I was looking for a change of scenery, I suppose. And tonight I was wandering around for a bit and stumbled upon this place.”

“Well you stumbled into the right place, ya classy man. Ya like jazz?” He asked as he took another puff of his cigar.

“I’ve heard some songs but I’m not the most avid listener.” Tom swirled the glass in his hands, the ice clinking against the glass.

“Oh after this you will, jazz has to be listened to live, you see. You need to feel the energy coming from the percussions and brass, and bask in the aura. It’s an otherworldly experience.” He patted Tom on the back and he nearly choked.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Tom added as he downed his drink. The bartender was quick to pour Tom another drink, sliding it over to him.

“Where is this replacement, huh?” The man asked as the bartender pulled out his phone. “Should be here any minute according to him.” He stuffed it back in his pocket before resuming his work.

The front door swung open and Tom, along with everyone else, looked at the figure who sauntered into the room. You were wearing a long evening gown and heels, neck adorned with jewelry. Your hair was up in a vintage updo with little tendrils of hair framing your face. The men howled and whistled at you, and you playfully rolled your eyes. Your eyes then scanned the room as you looked for the owner of the establishment that your friend described to you. Deciding to ask the bartender, you moseyed over to him.

“Excuse me; I’m looking for a gentleman named Tony. I’m the replacement singer for tonight.” Your voice was low and sultry, matching the ‘honey’ description. Tom was mesmerized by your plump red lips, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away.

“Well you found him, I’m Tony.” He grabbed your hand, lightly caressing it before kissing the top of it. Your gaze met the bartender’s as he slid a drink over to you.

“Hmm, gin and tonic, how’d you know?” You took a long sip while the men gazed at you, the bartender raising an eyebrow. To say you were entrancing was an understatement, and they all watched your lips hug the rim around the glass. You finished the drink and set the glass on the bar table.

“You never did tell us your name.” The bartender smirked, your lips curling up slightly. “Y/N.”

A beautiful name for a beautiful girl, Tom thought. You noticed him looking at you and you smiled.

“You never did tell me your name, darling.” You looked right into Tom’s eyes and smiled, making sure to emphasize the last word.

Tom gulped, attempting to match your sultry and seductive energy. “It’s Tom.” He took a drink of his scotch and your eyes glinted in the red lighting.

“Enchanté, London boy.” You winked, playfully tilting your head to the side. Tom looked at you curiously when you guessed where he was from, and you smirked. Already loving the attention that he was feeding you, you made sure to keep his focus solely on you. Returning your gaze to Tony, you let out a breathy sigh before asking, “Well, when do I go on?”

“Right now princess, go talk to Big Louis over there on the piano and let him know you’re ready.” The men watched you walk away, making sure you were out of earshot before speaking.

“Say, if I didn’t know any better son, I would think you’ve already fallen in love with her.” Tony remarked, swirling his drink in his hand before taking a sip.

“Maybe so.” Tom stated as he leaned onto the bar table.

“I hate to break it to you but you have no chance.” Tony paused, looking over his shoulder as if he expected someone to be eavesdropping in on their conversation. “I’ve heard my grandson gush about her nonstop but they never got together. This is the first time I’ve ever met her and I now see why he chased after her pathetically.” He paused, taking a sip of his brandy.

“Apparently, at least according to my grandson, she doesn’t bother finding love. She knows that there’s no man good enough, and she’s right. Look at her and tell me there’s anyone worthy enough to love that.” He downed his third drink of the night and motioned for the bartender to pass him a glass of water.

Tom, looking down at his hands which were clutching the glass, began to ponder what the man said. He wondered if the man was right, since his grandson apparently is quite familiar with you. The way you looked at him though said otherwise, and he held onto the tiny bit of hope that maybe you were as mesmerized by him as he were you.

The men watched you saunter over to Louis on the piano, lightly placing your hand on his back as you whispered in his ear. You bent down slowly and you felt the gaze of fifty people on you. Louis got up from the stool and you sat down, adjusting your dress and checking the microphone.

“Hello cool cats, how’s the night been treating you?” You spoke in your signature low voice as the room exploded in whistles and hollers. You smirked and looked coyly at Tom, who began to blush. You composed yourself before speaking again. “I’m only here for a short time tonight but trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.” You breathed, the men in the crowd whistling loudly. “It would be wrong if I didn’t perform a song by the one and only Billie Holliday, so ladies and gentlemen, here’s ‘Crazy He Calls Me’.”

You rested your fingers over the keys and mentally prepared yourself to sing in front of an already captivated audience. Your fingers glided over the keys with ease, making it seem effortless.

“I say I’ll move the mountains, and I’ll move the mountains, if he wants them out of the way.” You sang softly. You looked over at Tom who was leaning back against the bar table, arms crossed as he watched you sing. You lightly bit your bottom lip, which drove the men wild.

“Crazy he calls me. Sure, I'm crazy, crazy in love, I say.” You began to improvise the notes slightly, embellishing it as you went along. You looked into the crowd, quickly meeting Tom’s gaze again before looking down at the keys.

Tom instantly knew he was already madly in love with you. His mind wandered to what Tony said earlier about you not deeming any man worthy enough for your affection, but Tom was determined that he would be the one who could change your mind.

He observed the way you looked at him with a glint in your eye, a smile always leaving your lips as your eyes studied his face. He was hoping and praying that you were as captivated by him as he were you.

As you wrapped up the song, you made sure to sing the last verse straight to him. There was something that drew you in about him, and you were desperate to get close to him.

“I say I'll care forever, and I mean forever, if I have to hold up the sky. Crazy he calls me, sure, I'm crazy, crazy in love am I.” You embellished the last few notes on the piano and the room erupted with hollers, whistles and even love proclamations.

As the room filled with applause, you stood up from the piano stool, bowing as you basked in the attention. Licking your lips, you looked over at Tom, who had a grin on his face. You smiled back at him, clearing your throat to prompt the audience to settle down.

“I could use a drink right now, how about a scotch on the rocks?” You said into the microphone, making sure to look over at Tom who now had a smirk on his face. That was his drink of choice, and to make sure he knew you paid attention to detail, you ordered the same thing he had. Tom winked at you which illicited a small giggle. The bartender, whom Tom discovered was named Lionel, swiftly prepared your drink, leaving his workplace to bring it to you.

“Merci, darling.” You whispered, taking a long drink from the glass and setting it gently on top of the grand piano. He swiftly made his way off stage, heading back to the bar to continue preparing drinks for the audience.

Tom watched the way your lips went around the rim of the glass, observing how you lightly smack them after every sip. He was well aware of the fact that he was making his attraction obvious to you, but in that moment he didn’t care. He only wanted you, now more than ever.

As you lightly tapped on the microphone to ensure that the attention was back on you, you spoke to the audience. “This song means a lot to me, and hopeful it’ll mean a lot to you as well. It’s autumn here in New York, and the song is fitting for reminiscing a love no longer in one of the most beautiful seasons here.” You began to play the first notes of the song; the trombone player following your rhythm.

“The falling leaves drift by the window, the autumn leaves of red and gold. I see your lips, the summer kisses, the sun-burned hands I used to hold.” The rawness and pure vulnerability in your voice when you sang the lyrics made Tom’s heart sink. He couldn’t fathom the idea that someone would love you, and then leave you. It was evident from your voice that you were missing someone, the sheer thought of it alone was heart wrenching.

“Since you went away the days grow long, and soon I'll hear old winter's song. But I miss you most of all my darling, when autumn leaves start to fall.” You slowed your playing as the violinist took over, playing their solo as the song came to an end. The audience paused a second before applauding, as a man in the front row wiped away a stray tear from his cheek.

“I’m sorry there’s not one dry eye in the room.” You joked. The man in the front row let out a little sob as others laughed lightly.

The audience watched as you made your way from the piano over to the microphone in center stage.

“I’m gonna finish off tonight with a rendition of one of my favourite Benny Goodman’s songs. Also, a large thank you to ‘Swinging Louis’s Big Band Orchestra’ for accompanying me tonight.” You clapped as you watched the ensemble stand up, bowing before taking their seats.

Looking over at the players and giving them a little nod to signify you were ready, the cellist began to play as you slowly swayed your head to the beat.

You glanced over at Tom, blowing him a kiss and stifling a laugh as his face turned beet red in a matter of milliseconds. Everyone in the crowd turned their heads to see who you were giving your attention to, looking at Tom, then shifting their focus back to you.

“Maybe I was wrong kid, you might just have a chance with her.” Tony remarked as he slapped Tom on the back.

“My heart is sad and lonely, for you I sigh, for you dear only. Why haven't you seen it? I'm all for you, body and soul.” Your gaze pierced through Tom and he smiled. He knew that you were his and he was yours, he felt it in his bones. His eyes trailed down your body, gaze stopping right where your gown’s neckline plunged. You, noticing where his gaze rested, retaliated by putting your hand on your chest and moving it slowly up to your cheek. His face turned red when he saw you wink at him.

“My life a wreck you're making, you know I'm yours for the very taking. I'd gladly surrender myself to you, body and soul.” You finished the song and the room erupted into a loud fit of applause, whooping and whistling, and even some roses being passed to you by men in the front row. You bowed, slowly making your way upstage as someone asked for your autograph.

“I’m not famous sugar.” You laughed but the man shook his head. “Trust me you will be.” He handed you a napkin and a pen. You walked over to the piano so that you would have something hard to write on, autographing it for him as you lightly kissed the paper which left a red lipstick stain below your name. Handing the napkin back to him, he blushed, grabbing your hand and placing a light kiss on the top of it. Now blushing, you spoke into the microphone one last time to wrap up the performance.

“I appreciate everyone allowing me to play tonight. Go find someone to love and have a good night.” More applause filled the room as you walked off backstage.

As the applause died down, Tom looked over to his right to ask Tony where he could find you. When he saw a vacant seat next to him, he began to panic. He didn’t even notice that Tony was no longer sat there, but then again, he was so entranced by you that he didn’t pay attention to much else.

He glanced over at Lionel who was pouring a glass for the gentleman who had asked for your autograph.

“Lionel, where would Y/N be?” He asked with a hint of urgency in his voice. Lionel pondered it for a second and pointed at the back door. Tom nodded, hopping onto the stage and going through the back door. He hesitantly made his way down the corridor, careful to not make any sounds that would draw attention to himself. His ears perked up when he heard your voice, conversing with Tony who was discussing your pay. Peeking his head around the corner from where he stood, he listened some more as he then heard Tony give you an offer he thought you couldn’t refuse.

“C’mon princess, the crowd loves you. Just think, you could play here every weekend and make a ton of money.” You scoffed and Tony rolled his eyes. “You could easily become famous, you have an amazing stage presence and you’re clearly talented. Come on Y/N, take the offer.”

“Listen Tony, tonight was fun but I only did it for one night. After a while I would inevitably lose my charm and people wouldn’t come to see me anymore, so I better quit while I’m ahead.”

“You and I both know that wouldn’t happen, you could easily be as famous as Holliday, or even Fitzgerald. You can’t try to tell me you don’t have that kind of talent in you.”

You paused for a minute, pondering the idea once over in your mind.

“I’ll think about it, but for right now I still stand behind my answer. Singing will become a chore and then I’ll be miserable.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest as Tony let out a sigh.

“Alright, there’s no reasoning with you. The offer still stands though, so one day when you change your mind you can let me know.” Tony said as he watched you walk out the back door of the club, the door slamming shut. Just then Tom turned the corner to follow after you, and he and Tony met face to face.

Tony looked at Tom sympathetically, and spoke. “Kid, I know you like her but she’s stubborn.” He paused a second, wagging his finger as a thought flashed over him. “On second thought, I can tell that you are too, so if you want to chase after her she went out that way and walked down Waverly Place. While you’re at it try to convince her to change her mind, will ya? You and I both know she’s extremely talented. Now go.” He pointed towards the door and moved out of Tom’s way.

“Thank you.” He replied quickly, bolting out of the building as he looked for you. He ran down the street and stood at the intersection of Waverly and 7th Avenue to try to find you.

A fair distance away, he saw you walk towards an apartment building, calling your name as he watched you stop in your tracks. Turning your head around to see Tom running towards you, you waved to him and waited for him to catch up.

“Y/N, you were amazing.” He breathed heavily, fatigued from nearly sprinting.

“Thank you Tom, I really appreciate that. It was nice to know you were in the crowd.” You looked him up and down, noticing his broad shoulders and his slightly tousled curls.

“Why won’t you take the offer though?” He asked, out of breath as he bent forward and rested his hands on his knees.

“Oh so you heard that?” Tom only nodded as he began to catch his breath. “Personally, I would love to perform every weekend, but I don’t want the fame. Contrary to what you might believe, and what you’re accustomed to,” she poked his chest softly, “I’m not in it for the fame. I just want to enjoy what I’m doing, and not make it a chore.”

Tom stood there slightly dumbfounded at what you had just said, and let out a small laugh. “You know, that hit close to home. That’s the whole reason I ended up in New York, for the anonymity. Being famous is exhausting and right now I’m sick of it.”

“I think it would be torturous to be famous.” You remarked, and Tom agreed. “Oh yeah, it definitely can be.” Playing with your apartment keys nervously, you stuffed them back in your coat pocket and looked up at Tom, who was looking at you.

“Where did you learn-” Tom began to ask but you interrupted him. “Self taught.”

“Wow.” He gasped. You gave him a half smile and looked down at the ground. “I would love to teach you, if you’d want.” You said which caused Tom to smile. “I’d love that.”

You both stood there in silence, unsure of what to say next. The air was brisk, and the city was quieting down. After a minute, you decided to speak.

“Hey since it’s late I should probably get going, but-.”

“Wait, would you-”, he exhaled, “want to go out with me? At least, until I inevitably have to go back home to London.” His hand reached for the nape of his neck and rubbed it, the other stuffed into his pocket as he awaited your answer.

Blushing, you bit your lip and looked at him coyly. It was evident that he was becoming flustered as you stood there, silent.

Taking a step forward, you placed your arms around his neck, lightly pressing your chest to his. He hesitated before putting one hand on your hip, the other on the small of your back.

You leaned your face closer to his and closed the gap between you two. He kissed you back; his lips were soft, still tasting vaguely like scotch. After a minute you were the first to pull away but he pulled you back in, kissing you more passionately.

“I would love to go out with you, London boy.” You whispered against his lips as he kissed you again.

——

Additional A/N: I don’t give enough credit to my best friend/beta reader @scarletxwidow for always helping me revise and edit all of my stories. She deserves the world and please go send her some love. Also to everyone who has sent in a request, thank you and know that I am working on them 💛

mes anges (taglist): @sunflowerhollands @fangirlwithasweettooth @lmaotshollandd @musicalkeys @taciturnspidey @graceluvsyouu

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland imagines #tom holland #tom holland and you #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x female reader #tom holland writing #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfics #tom holland one shot #tom holland blurbs #tom holland one shots #tom holland and reader #mine #text #tom holland x y/n

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usertoxicyaoi · 4 years

Text

Look, How Long This Love Can Hold Its Breath.

“Yet, like with most things in life, Pam follows what her gut says. First thought, best thought.”

Or,

My take on Pam, because she deserves better, as does Earn, as does every girl on this show.

Title: from Sierra DeMulder’s Your Love Finds Its Way Back. Words: 5.2K.

“You guys just can’t hide it when you see hot girls, can you?”

That statement, the resounding echo of it, sounds around the entire room, bouncing off the walls. It’s been minutes, hours, since it’d been spoken out into the universe. She shouldn’t, she knows this, yet Pam can’t help but focus in on two words in particular, as she lies under the covers in bed that night.

Hot Girls.

It was the way she, Earn, - Pam recalls her name as Sarawat introduced his bandmates to her - had said those words. She’d said it with so much conviction, a sureness, an assertiveness to her tone.

Hot Girls.

Pam shrugs off the covers and turns to her side. Suddenly, she feels a surge of heat incoming as she tries to form some meaning of what that statement could mean. Perhaps she was reading too much into it, and maybe it was just a flippant remark Earn had made, to quieten down the boys. Maybe she was just looking out for her, since they were the only two girls in a room that was otherwise populated with testosterone and Axe deodorant.

Pam sighs and grabs her phone from the bedside table. It reads 23:17 on her lockscreen. She knows, amongst all the other things, that she should get some rest and sleep. She has an early start tomorrow with enrolment to take care of, which means filling in form after form, and a grand tour of her Faculty building.

Yet, like with most things in life, Pam follows what her gut says. First thought, best thought.

She swipes across and unlocks her phone, opens Instagram, and finds the Ctrl S page. It’s like a reflex at this point, she could do this blindfolded. Ever since Sarawat had informed her of the band and sent her the link to the page, she followed it promptly and browsed through the posts, until she came upon it for the first time. Since then, it’s become a ritual for her.

She scrolls down the page until she finds it.

And it’s that one picture of Earn. And she looks mesmerising.

She’s glancing down, focusing on the chords she’s playing on the guitar to a song Pam has no idea of what it could be. Her hair is tied up into a ponytail, a little dishevelled just like it was earlier today, save for the few strands that frame both sides of her face. The lights are violet which surround her, that highlight the points of her cheekbones, and her skin glows. She looks so in her element, the pleasure she seeks from it pouring out as her passion for playing the strings, as though this was her purpose in life. She has her bottom lip bitten, chewed between her teeth. Perhaps it’s something of a habit Earn has when she’s in deep thought, Pam assumes.

Pam’s thumb absentmindedly begins to stroke across Earn’s lips through the screen. She doesn’t want to assume that it’s a habit. Rather, she’d like to know if it is.

That’s not the only thing she’d like to know, though. She’d like to know Earn’s favourite colour, her favourite time of the day, what annoys her. She’d like to know what it feels like to look directly into her eyes, the texture of her skin under her fingers, the feel of her lips-

And Pam always makes herself stop right there. She doesn’t dare let herself think any more beyond that. Pam locks her phone and places it on charge, swallowing thickly and exhaling the air from her lungs through a breath that shudders, that’s heard within the silence enveloping her room. She turns, her back to her phone and her face to the wall.

No one needed to know the real reason as to why she came here, to Bangkok, all the way from Chiang Mai. Why she transferred universities and dropped out from studying Medicine to pursuing Music instead. Logically, she knows it’s a risk, a huge one. Medicine was her forte, a sure-fire. Pam had had it all mapped out. By her mid-20s, she knew she’d be a successful graduate and would begin her practice as a novice and live a comfortable life.

And then Earn happened.

And what seemed so resolute and unshakeable didn’t seem so anymore. Her heart wasn’t into it any longer.

First thought, best thought.

Which led her here.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Pam shut her eyes, sending out a prayer to God, hoping she’d done the right thing, and let sleep take over her.

Sarawat told her he couldn’t teach her the guitar any longer. That something was the issue between him and Tine which required some time for healing and a lot of distance from her. Pam understood what that meant. She wasn’t one to intrude in spaces she was unwanted in.

But Sarawat was her best friend, and he wouldn’t leave her dry and hanging just like that. He said he knew someone that could teach her. When Pam asked him if she knew who it was, Sarawat stayed silent and looked, not at her, but through her, for the longest time. He held her gaze, composed, but Pam knew his brain was in overdrive right now.

Just the same way it would be when he was trying to calculate the weight of the consequences of his decisions, if whether going to that Scrubb concert last year was worth it or not when she, Man and Boss were pleading him to tag along.

“You’ll know them, soon,” he says, finally.

“Them?”

“Her.”

“Her?”

“Earn.”

Something changed, then. Not so much in the way that the world had tilted on its axis. But, in the way that there was a stepping stone being placed right at her feet. An alignment of sorts. A pathway being carved by God Himself.

He was listening.

The test was in a couple of weeks’ time. That’s not to say that Pam wasn’t panicking.

She was.

What little Sarawat had taught her last year in high school regarding basic chords on the guitar, she’d forgotten due to neglect.

She had her first practice session with Earn tomorrow, and she did not want to make a fool of herself. That meant latching on her phone and hinging onto every pathetic YouTube tutorial that could simply explain things, like how to hold the damn guitar properly, at a beginner’s level.

What Pam was graced with, though, was the skill of picking things up quickly. She deftly learnt at least the sufficient amount of know-how and the basics, enough to make her seem like a keen novice that wanted to learn how to play the guitar for the love of it.

Which she did, she’d remind herself constantly. It wasn’t just because of … her. Earn.

Somehow, it felt wrong to even think that. She wasn’t doing this all just to impress Earn enough into anything. She’d scrapped the entire script of her life away and rewrote a new one. Pam enjoyed music, but studying it felt like becoming intimately at one with it. It meant letting it consume you.

Pam just wanted to understand how that felt for Earn. How did she feel when she let something in, so closely, that she didn’t know where she ended or that something began? How did she feel about wilfully letting something consume you, whole and raw, bare and stripped?

How about if it wasn’t a thing, but rather, someone. A being. A girl …

“You’re persistent. I like that about you.”

Earn says that, just barely above a whisper, into Pam’s ear. Her entire body is draping over and around Pam’s. She’s holding the fingers of her left hand and pressing them against the strings on the neck of the guitar, informing her of just how much strength to apply, whilst showing her how to strum by holding her right hand.

It started off with them two sat opposite one another. Earn asked how much she knew, and Pam told her. Earn didn’t say anything in reply, just nodded whilst jutting her bottom lip out. Pam didn’t know what to make of that, didn’t know how to read her body talk.

She resorted to assuming that it was probably a form of silent appreciation. Earn hadn’t high tailed and ran out of the room yet, so, that was at least a positive.

Then she handed a guitar, her guitar, over to Pam.

It was the same guitar that was in that photo of Earn. The same guitar in the photo that Pam daily spent minutes on end, worshipping, in the stillness of the night, in her room with the curtains shut.

And all of a sudden it was in her hands, and she didn’t know what to do with them.

“Go on, I trust you with it. The only reason I’m giving it to you is because the strings are softer. I don’t want to hurt you.”

Somehow it felt like every word from Earn’s mouth was a lyric, something that belonged to a song. Something that moved you, made you want to sit and understand what that meant, what implication it held for you. Something that you didn’t want to misread or mistranslate the inference of.

‘What did she mean by that?’ was the only thing Pam could think of in that moment. It’s starting to become a habit now. Earn speaks, and Pam finds herself having to recalibrate all over again to understand the intent of her words, and to whom they’re said for.

The weight of those words linger in the air between them, until Pam sees Earn get up and walk towards her. She seats herself next to her and fixes the guitar into position within Pam’s arms.

And Pam can’t stop herself this time. There it is, this it what it feels like, to look directly into her round eyes. It feels safe, reassuring. It feels alluring, inviting. This is what it feels like, the texture of her skin. Its both rough and smooth, and she touches so softly but there’s a security in it.

“Play me what you know.”

“I don’t know how to play.”

“Mmmm.” Earn bites her bottom lip between her teeth.

‘Oh,’ … so it was a habit, then. Pam’s lips turn upwards into the smallest smile, that she keeps to herself.

“Do you want to start from the start with me, then?” asks Earn.

“Yeah. I … I’d like that.” says Pam.

Which is how they find themselves now, limbs wrapped around one another, with Earn gently whispering into Pam’s ear what chord is which and demonstrating it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a break?” asks Earn, turning her face to look at Pam.

“I’m fine, I promise. I’m not as delicate as I may seem.” Pam replies, a gentle laugh escaping her mouth. She finds it lovely that Earn worries.

“Mmmm.” Earn bites her bottom lip between her teeth, again. She looks adorable doing so, with her forehead creasing in concern. And then, “I don’t want to hurt you.”

There it is, again.

Pam swallows and looks directly back into Earn’s eyes. She needs Earn to know. “You’re not. You won’t. I trust you, just like you trusted me with your guitar.”

What Pam wasn’t expecting was for Earn to wistfully sigh, and then lean her head against Pam’s shoulder.

“Good. I don’t want to scare you away. Besides, Sarawat would kill me. He’s handed you over to me.”

There it is, again.

Perhaps it’d just be easier to let it be what it is. That is, if these words Earn speaks are for her and her only, said aloud with no one but them two alone in the practice room, then maybe Pam should let herself go. Maybe she shouldn’t chain herself and resist. Maybe she can allow herself to indulge in this, whatever this is.

First thought, best thought.

“And how are you going to handle me, then?” Pam asks, one foot in front of the next, as she bravely steps onto that stepping stone.

Earn looks up at her, and they’ve never been this close to each other, until yet.

“With absolute care,” she replies.

And that was enough for Pam.

Until it wasn’t.

Once you let yourself indulge, you become greedy, and a gluttony forms for the thing that satiates.

Of course, Pam knew that Earn’s Instagram page was tagged in that photo, but she never permitted herself to ever actually go onto her page. That felt like crossing a boundary. It felt too much, because that would mean Pam would get to see who Earn was, and the desire would only grow tenfold. So, it was better to not indulge at all.

But they’ve had several practice sessions since their first. The test is this week, on the Friday.

Every practice starts with Earn not even bothering to sit opposite Pam anymore. They immediately intertwine. Even when they don’t need to. Even when Pam had all the basic chords down and learnt.

The session they had today was spent discussing what song Pam was going to play during the test. That meant sharing headphones and scrolling through playlists, both on Pam and Earn’s phones. Earn writes down a list on potentials on paper, whilst leaning her head on Pam’s shoulder.

Pam doesn’t question it anymore; it’s just another habit Earn has.

They eventually decide on a song: Close, by Scrubb. Earn notes down the chords of the song, whilst Pam hums along and sings bits here and there.

“Your voice … it’s so beautiful.” Earn says.

Pam’s cheeks tint to a rosy pink, in response. Blood rushes there and everywhere, coursing warmth to spread right to the tips of her toes.

Earn laughs, mostly because Pam thinks that she knows that Earn knows what that did for her.

“Are you coming to the contest tomorrow?” Earn asks, taking the headphone from Pam’s ear and putting them away.

“Of course, I am. I don’t want to miss a chance to see you play.” Pam says, because she’s known it’s coming for the last week now. Everyone within the Faculty has been talking about it. There’s been such a buzz of excited nervous energy in the air as all attention has turned towards preparing for it.

But that’s not why Pam is so eager. It’s because she’ll finally get to witness Earn play. She’ll get to experience that beyond just through a photo and screen.

“Not miss a chance just to see me play? What about Sarawat? I thought he was your best friend?”

“I’ve seen him play plenty. It doesn’t excite me anymore.”

“And seeing me does?”

Pam’s head spins to look at Earn, and she’s sporting the widest smirk across her mouth. How does she do this to her, every single time?

“Maybe. Maybe not.” Pam says, a little too late, because Earn’s already biting her bottom lip again. It’s not out of concentration this time, Pam notices, but because she’s supressing something. A laugh? Another smirk?

“Go on, say it. Tease me. I know you want to.” Pam says, pouting, as she folds her arms and looks away.

“Not like this. I told you, I’ll handle you with care. I don’t want to hurt you,” but Pam can hear it in Earn’s voice. There’s sincerity, of course, but a hint of teasing too.

“Hmmm. And what about tomorrow? How are you going as?” Pam asks, tilting her face to the side to look at Earn up and down.

“What do you mean?” Earn scoffs.

“What? No makeup? Nothing a bit more special or fancy than the usual?”

“People come to watch me play the guitar, not come to watch me, per se.”

“And what if there’s someone that does?”

“Pray, tell.” Earn asks, leaning forward, ever so closely.

Pam’s gaze flits across Earn’s face. The way her hair frames it, the fullness of her lips, her nose. She’s beautiful. Breathtakingly so, this close.

First thought, best thought.

“Can I try something?” Pam asks.

“Go on.”

Pam leans forward and lifts her hand to find the tie keeping Earn’s hair up. She takes hold of it, making sure to keep her gaze locked with Earn’s for any sign of discomfort, and glides it downwards, until her hair loosens from its grip. She puts the hair tie to a side, and raises her hand again to take the some of the left section of Earn’s hair into her fingers, and place it forward. Her fingers rake slowly down her tresses, gliding so easily, not a knot to be found, and stills, just above Earn’s heart.

And there’s no lie to be found. It’s beating, hard, fast, alive.

“I’ve always wanted to see you with your hair down, but I didn’t know how to ask.” Pam says.

“You can ask me for anything, you know.”

“And you’d give it to me?”

“I’ll try, as hard as I can.”

“Then, can I dress you up tomorrow, after practice?”

“You don’t have to.”

“But I want to.”

Earn laughs, resting her head forward against Pam’s shoulder, her face nestled in the space there.

“Remember when I told you that you were persistent, and that I liked that about you? I still do. Go ahead, I won’t stop you.” Earn whispers, right into Pam’s ear, her lips grazing the skin of her neck there.

So, that’s how Pam finds herself, that night, lying in bed, finally letting herself indulge. She can still feel the ghost of Earn’s lips grazing her skin, the shiver that followed, and how Earn’s beating heart felt under her palm. These things don’t lie.

First thought, best thought.

She lets herself go onto Earn’s Instagram page.

She lets herself admire Earn, post by post.

She lets herself follow Earn.

And when Earn follows her back straight away, she lets herself laugh freely, clutching her pillow and hiding her face in it.

That night, she sleeps sending a prayer of gratitude to God, and then lets herself repeat, “I like you, Earn,” just like another form of prayer, a mantra, over and over again.

The weight of the words don’t surprise her. It’s not heaviness she feels, but instead, relief. Her feelings have words that express them.

They manage to go over the chords of Close roughly, enough so that Pam familiarises herself with them. She can feel, rather than see, that Earn’s a little on edge today, because of nerves Pam assumes she’s probably feeling due to the contest. It’s in the way Earn keeps breathing heavily every so often, getting slightly distracted and then zoning back in.

Today, Pam decided to take matter into her own hands, and call the shots.

First thought, best thought.

“Right, come on. I’m going to dress you up.”

“But we haven’t finis-“

“Yes, we have.”

“Persistent.” Earn says, with a lop-sided smile directed at Pam, tilting her head to one side. It’s the first time she’s been this relaxed within the past 2 hours.

“Mmm, but you like it.” Pam tilts her head the other way, smiling back at Earn.

“I do. Yes, I do.” Each time she affirms that, there’s more and more sureness that gathers in her voice. Something that erases any hint or speck of doubt to even exist between them. It stirs something deep with Pam.

She starts off first by taking out her small make-up pouch that she bought along with her to practice. She doesn’t want to overwhelm Earn, or completely give her a make-over. She just wants to accentuate that beauty that she already possesses.

This was Earn trusting Pam to do as she pleased with her. Pam was going to respect that.

She had told Earn to bring along with her the concealer she wore and got to work with it. Earn’s skin didn’t require much of it, just enough to cover a couple of blemish marks, and brighten her under-eye a little. She set that with some loose powder, and saw how the bristles of the brush tickled Earn enough to make her giggle. That sound in itself was a melody, and Earn was visibly relaxing more and more, to the point where she seemed as though she was enjoying this.

‘Good’, Pam thought. She’d do whatever it took to make Earn feel at ease.

Then, she went in with a touch of bronzer, to simply add some depth and shadow, before adding a very small amount of golden sparkle onto the lids of Earn’s eyes. She let Earn apply the mascara for herself, whilst Pam dug out the last 3 things: blush, highlight and gloss.

Since Earn was going to be wearing her favourite brown jacket, Pam decided to go for a more peachy tone. She applied the blush across the apples of Earn’s cheeks, and bought it across the bridge of her nose too. She then applied just enough highlight, so that it could be seen, but not to the point where it took away from the rest of the make-up.

“Gloss will go on last. Now, let’s do your hair.” Pam spoke, as she stood to move behind Earn with her hairbrush and took out the hair tie binding Earn’s hair together into her ponytail. She carefully brushed through Earn’s hair, before parting it at the centre, and taking the strands of hair that usually framed both sides of her face into her fingers, plaiting them intricately and them pinning them secure to the back of her head. She applied hairspray for added hold, and then made her way back to face Earn again.

And there was something different about this Earn. She looked … softer, today. An innocence that Pam had never seen on her.

Was she blushing?

“Aren’t you going to complete me?” Earn asks, her gaze lowered.

Pam came and sat down opposite her, lifting Earn’s chin with her fingers so that their eyes met.

Without anything else needing to be said, Pam unscrewed the gloss, twirled the stick around the bottle to coat the brush evenly with the gloss, and leaned in to apply it.

She could feel Earn’s eyes on her, as she focused on putting the gloss on her lips properly. She could feel the warm air from Earn’s exhale tickle her skin, tickle her own lips. All it’d take is just moving an inch more closer, and Pam would know what Earn’s lips felt like on her own.

And her lips? Her lips were so full. Her bottom one marked with the fresh indents after her latest attempt at biting them between her teeth out of worry, and her cupid’s bow so prominent. She had lips that deserved to be softly pecked, once, twice, a thousand times. She had lips that deserved to be deeply kissed, bitten, tugged and stretched between teeth, to be opened and her mouth to be explored. To be left red and pink and worshipped and swollen with the blood pooling in them. They deserved hours of attention, that Pam wanted to provide.

Pam looked up at Earn. They were both caught in the act. At least it was even.

“Let me get your jacket, and then you’re complete.” Pam says, going to the door and getting it from where it was left hanging, hooked onto the peg.

She made her way round to stand behind Earn, opening the jacket so that Earn could put her arms through the sleeves, and pull it up, whilst Pam smoothed out her hair, so that her tresses fell on top of the back of her jacket.

Earn spun around and twirled for Pam, and there she was, complete and ready. She looked gorgeous. Every inch of her was so relaxed by now, that she was oozing confidence, as she picked up her guitar case.

“Don’t you want to see how you look?” asks Pam.

“I trust you.”

“Still. Hold on a second.” Pam made her way to her makeup pouch and took out her pocked sized mirror. Earn deserved to see herself in a floor to ceiling one, if she was being honest, but they’d have to make do for now.

She handed the mirror over to Earn, who looked at her reflection and gasped.

“Oh … Wow.”

“Good Wow or Bad Wow?”

“I’d kiss your cheek to say thank you if I didn’t have this gloss on kind of Wow.” Earn laughs, looking back up at Pam.

“You look stunning, Earn. You’ll be so great up there.”

“You think so? Sarawat’s been hammering it down just how badly we need to win this thing.”

“I believe in you, Earn.”

And then, a silence fell. Something in Pam told her it needed to be filled. One last form of encouragement.

First thought, best thought.

“If I said there was a way through which I could pass on some of belief to you, what would you say?” Pam asks, as she steps closer to Earn.

“What does that look like?”

“Something like this.”

And Pam lets herself kiss Earn’s cheek and linger.

“I’m not wearing gloss.” Pam whispers into Earn’s ear.

And if Pam was unsure if whether Earn was blushing before, she knows with absolution now, that she indeed is.

That night, once the contest is over and Ctrl S have won, Pam scrolls through Instagram and sees the pictures of Earn.

To know that she had some part to play in making her look like that, filled Pam up with pride. Knowing that Earn trusted her to this extent, filled her up with hope.

She prayed to God for strength, because she didn’t know how much longer now she could go on, without telling Earn the intensity of what she felt for her.

The day finally came.

It was Friday, the day of the test. Pam wanted nothing more than to make Earn proud. She didn’t want Earn to feel disappointed or let down. Pam had taken a spare guitar back to her dorm room from the practice room, and stayed up until the early hours of the morning, just before the sky blushed pink and the birds came out to sing, and practised.

The strings on this guitar weren’t soft. They were brutal. They cut through Pam’s skin.

But she was persistent, like Earn said. It’s the one thing Earn liked about her.

“Have you even slept at all? Look at your fingers! I said I wasn’t going to hurt you, Pam.” Earn complains to her, as she takes both of Pam’s hands in hers and inspects them in a secluded corner away from the other students in the Music room.

“And you haven’t. And yes, I slept for, like, 3 hours. I just want to make you proud.”

“And you will. I trust you. And that’s why you’re going to be using my guitar that we’ve been practising with for your test.” Earn says, sternly this time, leaving no room for arguments.

And then, she feels Earn’s lips kiss her cheek.

Earn simply shrugs at her.

“You need the belief, this time. Don’t worry, no gloss.”

And then she winks at her, before walking away to go and stand next to Sarawat, as the test begins.

Pam passes.

“Of course you would, I told you.” Earn’s smile is so bright, she’s beaming at her.

Pam’s just relieved it went well. She’d find herself constantly looking up and back at Earn through her trial, who never once took her eyes away from her. It should have been more nerve-wracking to play in front of her, yet it wasn’t. It was soothing, like a balm, her being there, mouthing the words along. Even Sarawat was left stunned.

“Can we talk, Earn?” Pam says, suddenly. Maybe it was elation speaking, but Pam knew she wouldn’t get presented a better chance than now. “Somewhere, where it’s just … us two.”

“Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

They make their way into a spare, vacant room on the floor, Pam shutting the door close behind her.

“Is everything okay?” Earn asks, concerned.

“Yeah. Urm.”

First thought, best thought.

Pam restarts.

“You know how you always say you like my persistence?” Pam asks, stepping closer to Earn, who steps closer to Pam, as they meet each other halfway.

“I do.”

“Is that the only thing?”

“That?”

“That you like about me?”

“If I did, would I have called you Hot during the first time I ever lay my eyes on you?”

“So you do … find me Hot?” Pam can’t even say the word out loud.

“Tremendously so.” Earn replies in the small space between them, raising her hand to caress Pam’s cheek with the back of her fingers, before resting it against her jaw, holding it. “I let you dress me up, I let you kiss my cheek, I let you use my guitar. I’ve held you and touched you. I’ve even let you into my dreams behind my eyelids.”

“Earn …” Pam says, like a lifeline, closing her eyes shut.

“Look at me, please, when I say what I’m about to say next.” Earn urges.

Pam opens her eyes to look directly into Earn’s.

“It’s you. Every. Single. Time.”, she says.

“I like you too, Earn.” Pam whispers, into that small space. It was as simple and as honest as that, yet it gathered every bit of her strength to say, “There’s something else I want to ask of you.”

“You can ask me anything, baby.” Earn says, brushing her nose against Pam’s.

“And you’d give it me?”

“In a heartbeat.” Earn says, her mouth pressing soft, open kisses on Pam’s cheeks, as her hand comes to tuck the loose strand of hair behind Pam’s ear.

“I want to know how they feel.” Pam says, pulling Earn by the waist, closer to her body.

“Kiss me, then.”

And it’s everything Pam had ever thought it would have been, only intensified. Earn kisses slowly, like she has all the time to give to Pam. Pam takes Earn’s bottom lip, between her teeth, and then bites down ever so gently into it. Its that sound that follows, that spills from Earn’s mouth, that moan, and it leaves Pam unhinged. She made her do that. And so, she does it again, and Earn moans for her again.

They kiss until Pam’s struggling to breathe, and she pulls back for air but Earn chases after her mouth and they’re kissing, again. Heads tilting to find a better angle, lips drawn open and Pam doesn’t even know where she ends and where Earn begins; their limbs intertwined, just like they’ve always found their way to end up being.

‘She wants this too. She wants me too.,’ is Pam’s first thought. On another day, she’ll ask Earn what her favourite colour, her favourite time of the day and what things annoy her are. She’ll one day even tell her how she left it all behind, just for her. She’ll thank God profusely for making this work out for her, for giving her that stepping stone.

But right now, her only thought, her best thought, is to indulge in kissing and giving Earn’s mouth the attention it deserves.

#2gether #2gether the series #earn x pam #*#wow over 5k lmao this got ....... Long.#but its what pam deserves!!!!

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dreamescapeswriting · 5 years

Text

Journey Man || Namjoon X Reader [Zip Series]

A/N: Another instalment of my Zip Series I’m doing :)

Word Count: 8,157

Genre: Fluff || Cute || Romantic || Did I mention Fluff? Because Fluff || Angst??

Summary:Your best friend asks you to travel to Paris with him for a week long trip together, you jump at the chance because you hadn’t seen him much, but was being with your crush and in the most romantic place in the world a good idea?!

When your best friend of 16 years asked if you wanted to go on a holiday with him you jumped at the chance, you’d not seen him much since he debuted and you wanted to spend time with him again like the old days. He told you it was a week-long break in Paris, promising you it was going to be a nice break for you both, you could get some snapshots for Instagram and the photography hobby you were really into and he could get some inspiration for some new songs from everything around him in Paris. He had the whole week planned out and ready for you both, with secret activities for you to do.

“Trust me little one.” He chuckled as you complained about not knowing anything about what was going to happen, you hated the nickname he used for you, just because you were shorter than him and everyone else in the group, and you did trust your best friend but it was a little harder to trust him when you had no idea what clothes to pack.

“We’re going to Paris so just pack lightly, and bring your camera.” He said from your bed, he was sprawled out scrolling his phone while you tried to think of what pack lightly meant. You looked through the wardrobe door to see him smiling like a mad man on his phone again, you felt a pang of jealousy run through you at whoever was making his dimples pop out like that, you pushed the feeling aside and went back into the wardrobe, searching through the closet. You and Namjoon had been best friends since you were 10 years old, you moved in next door to him and became the best of friends, but when you turned 17 something changed for you, you started seeing him in a different light, maybe it was because he was starting to take his music seriously, he always took it seriously but then he was really getting into it, plus it was always more attractive to you when a guy had real ambitions, you used to both stay up long at night coming up with lyrics together for him to rap, and you still had a few songs you’d written stashed away in a box in your wardrobe, never to see the light of day again because they were terrible, but you kept them for memories. Along with the polaroid photos you had of you and him together, birthday cards from him and an old diary entry your diary that you ripped out, hiding it away in case Namjoon ever found out where your diary was hidden, it was an extract about a kiss you shared with Namjoon, you could still remember the night as if it was just yesterday.

“Joonie…Do you think I will ever find someone to love?” You questioned out of the blue one night, you were laid under the stars in your garden, looking up at the moon and stars because neither of you could sleep that night, he had the genius idea of camping out to look at the sky together, which lead to deep conversations out there.

“What do you mean?” He questioned, sitting up from the grass and turning to look at you, you did the same, facing him and then looking at the blades of grass you were twisting between your fingers.

“I mean, we’re 17…Everyone else has had their first love, you did, Yoongi has even though he won’t tell anyone else about it…Even Kookie.” Namjoon chuckled at you and you sighed, laying your head down on his lap and looking up at him, you took some blades of grass and ran them along his chin.

“I’m serious Joonie. I’m 17 years old and never even had my first kiss, do you have any idea how pathetic-” You couldn’t finish your sentence because his lips were suddenly on yours, he’d bent down, pulling his knees up a little so you would meet him halfway, you were shocked at first, your eyes widened at the action but you leant into it, your eyes fluttering shut as the kiss continued. You could have sworn this is what everyone wrote love songs about, the butterflies in your stomach, your head scrambling on what to do with your hands, your hands sweating because of the nerves you were experiencing and then there was everything you were feeling, it felt like your whole body was on fire, sparks coming from your body, as if there was a huge sign above you, saying you were now in love with your best friend, your best friend who had just bitten down on your bottom lip and pulled away from you.

“Now you’ve had your first kiss.” He whispered to you, helping you stand up and walking you to your back door, neither of you speaking a word to each other, he watched you go inside before going home to bed.

Neither you or Namjoon spoke about that kiss ever again, it was as if it never happened and you couldn’t be 100% sure it did, you could have dreamed it, it felt as though you’d dreamt it but it felt too perfect for it to be fake, you didn’t think you could ever imagine something so perfect, it was the moment you knew you were stuck on him for life. You snapped out of your daydream when you heard him talking down the phone to someone, you shook the thought out of your head, going back to the task at hand and trying to push the nine-year-old kiss out of your mind and pack your things, Namjoon left your room and you knew because he shut the door behind him and everything fell into a silence again, whoever he was talking to must have been important because he never left a room to just talk on the phone, you sighed again, you didn’t need to think of him like that again, sure your feelings for Namjoon were still strong, stronger than ever when you thought of that first kiss you shared but your friendship meant more to you than some silly little schoolgirl crush, or young adult crush now you were both 26 years old, but he was a big star now and didn’t need his best friend holding him back.

The plane journey was pretty simple, you slept the whole thing away since it was a 12-hour flight, Namjoon spent it in and out of sleep, writing lyrics or watching some movie that was available for you to watch, he would occasionally take a small nap with you, leaning his head on top of yours and putting a blanket around the pair of you. He knew the jetlag was going to be a real pain but he’d done this a million times before and knew how to deal with it, he was used to it by now.

You groaned as you laid on the single bed, you’d gotten a shared room with two queen-sized beds. The hotel was incredible, he’d gone all out on the hotel, The Shangri-La Hotel Paris, you’d read about it a few months ago with Hoseok, you’d been planning a dream holiday and you had no idea that Namjoon knew about it. The room was all white with a blue carpet, twin beds were laid out in front of balcony doors which looked out at the Eiffel Tower, the balcony had it’s own furniture on it too, it was like an apartment, you were pretty sure it cost more than your apartment.

“This place is unbelievable Joonie,” You whispered, getting up from the bed and going over to the balcony doors, you watched the Eiffel Tower as it twinkled, it was pitch black outside beside the odd street lights and the lights on the tower, Namjoon was in the bathroom doing something and you opened the doors on the balcony and walked out, you walked over to the metal bars and leant against them, just watching as the lights changed on the Eiffel tower, you were so lost in your world you hadn’t noticed Namjoon come out of the bathroom, he stared at you for a couple of seconds before snapping a photo of you on his phone.

“It’s beautiful.” He said, coming out to the balcony and joining you by your side, you smiled at him and then looked down at the people on the streets, they were all heading towards a market place.

“We should go and have a look, we both have jetlag anyway.” You said looking at him with your puppy dog eyes, he could never say no to you whenever you gave him them.

“Get a coat, I don’t want you complaining at me if you get sick.” He mentioned going back inside to get his coat and wallet.

“Joonie look!” You yelled him over, he’d been taking pictures of the Eiffel tower while you wandered off in front, you found a cute stall selling smaller versions of the Eiffel tower that lit up, and smaller keychains.

“We have to get some for the boys.” You said, choosing six of each one and paying for them, Namjoon watched as you thanked the man in French and then came back to his side.

“Where’s mine?” He questioned acting offended, you giggled pushing him away from you and then looking at the moon right about the tower.

“You’re here with me, you don’t get one.” You mumbled, taking out your camera and snapping some shots of the scene, you couldn’t wait to show Jungkook, Taehyung and Yoongi, you all liked to share your photography, Yoongi was teaching you some new skills with the camera you’d gotten as well, you’d dragged him camera shopping trusting his judgement to help you choose one you would like and would take good photos.

“Well, next time I go somewhere and even think of getting you something I won’t.” He grumbled playfully, taking the camera from your hands and making you stand in front of the Eiffel Tower.

“Please be careful Joonie…It’s not a joke, please.” He pretended to drop it and you stopped smiling, he was clumsy enough without pretending at the same time, he saw how serious you were and stopped, getting ready to snap a few shots of you, you were so used to being behind the camera you didn’t know what to do with yourself, you were a blushing mess when he began yelling out directions for you to follow, people all turning to watch as you posed for him, doing silly faces and then some serious shots.

“You’re too cute.” You heard him mumbled as he flicked through the photos, you tried to ignore the fact that your stomach was now doing backflips from his small comment about you being cute, he did this all the time, you reminded yourself, he always compliments his friends. You said to yourself, which he did, whenever any of the boys were being cute he would tell them, you lost count of the number of times he told them they were being cute, you pushed away from the feelings and looked around for something to eat, your stomach was growling and it sounded as though it was about ready to bite off someone’s arm.

“I’m starving Joon, let’s go get pancakes or something.” He stared at you as you packed away the camera, he loved that no matter what time of day it was, you wanted breakfast items to eat, pancakes had always been a favourite of yours and that’s why whenever it was your birthday he would come round and make them for you, but if he was away on tour he would order them at his hotel room and sit on a facetime call with you while you ate them.

“You’re always starving.” He said dramatically, linking your arms together and walking towards a restaurant close to the hotel. This was a normal, friendly interaction, you would link arms and walk together, it was just something you’d always done, you were so close it wasn’t weird. A lot of things you did together weren’t supposed to be “normal” in a boy/girl friendship but you did it anyway, you would snuggle together and watch movies, cuddle if you couldn’t fall asleep, call one another with exciting news before you told anyone else. Namjoon first told you about their debut date before he told his parents, he called you the moment he found out and you screamed down the phone with him, planning a celebration together with the rest of the boys. That was the second kiss you’d ever shared, in all of the excitement you got rushed up in, you kissed him.

“I would just like to say a few words.” You said, clearing your throat and standing in front of all the boys. You were at the dorms, throwing a small get together, really small because it was just you, and them all in the dorms having a few drinks, although Jungkook wasn’t legal yet you snuck him a few drinks here and there, ignoring the looks from Jin, and him calling you a “bad influence,” all eyes were on you as you stood on the sofa looking down at them.

“I’ve known Joonie here for a long ass time and WHEN, not If, but WHEN, you become these big idols I want it known, that…” You paused for dramatic effect and Jungkook did a drumroll with his feet, earning a playful eye-roll from Namjoon.

“Namjoon is and will always be my best friend before any of you fuckers and if he forgets about me when he’s famous I will go to the presses and sell my story about how I was long forgotten and I will expose you all.” You giggled chugging back the rest of your drink and jumping down from the sofa, stumbling a little and falling into Namjoon’s arms, all the boys were off doing their own thing, it was just you and him in the living room now, you looked up at him with a smile and he looked down at you with one, his dimples on full display, he reached down and stroked your cheek, you giggled as it tickled your skin and then you just did it, you stood up on your tiptoes and put your lips against his, the music that was blaring out of the speakers suddenly drowned out, the room was filled with silence, your hands wrapped around his neck as you dragged him down closer to you, his hands snaked around your waist and pulled your body closer to him, he wanted to pick you up and wrap you around his body but the sound of a glass breaking interrupted your kiss, you sprung away from him and he went over to the kitchen to find Jimin had knocked over one of the mugs, you said a quick and quiet goodbye to Yoongi and Jin who were now back in the living room and left. Neither of you spoke about that night again, he was probably too drunk to remember the way he held you in his arms but you weren’t, you could still feel the way his thumb ran along your cheek, and the way his stubble poked your skin when you got closer to him, and the way his hair felt in your fingertips.

“Y/n?” He questioned waving his hand in front of your face, you snapped out of your daydream and looked at him, you were sitting in a restaurant with food in front of you, specifically, pancakes were in front of you, drizzled in chocolate with mini marshmallows placed along with them.

“Hmm, what did you say? I was in my own world.” You said to him, reaching and taking the hot chocolate that was in front of you and sipping on it, he chuckled at you, you had a blush on your cheek which meant you were thinking of something you loved, your ears were a bright red colour too and he looked down at his plate of pancakes.

“I was just telling you the plan for tomorrow,” You nodded for him to continue watching as his face lit up talking about the museums you were going to be visiting on your trip, his mouth turned up at the sides whenever he mentioned the museums, and his dimples would show more because he was talking about something he loved so much, when he noticed you staring he got a little shy, though he would never admit it to you, he looked down at the table for a second, scratching his eyebrow before clearing his throat and continuing his talk.

“Tomorrow we’re going to the Louvre Museum,” he placed a piece of pancake into his mouth and you nodded, leaning across the table and wiping the chocolate away from his lip.

“Sounds like a fun-packed day.” You smiled, it was true, you were genuinely excited to go to museums with him, it’s what you used to do back home as well, you both loved going to different museums, you looked at him before going back to your food and trying not to think about how adorable he looked when he got excited about museums.

“We should try and get some sleep when we go back to the hotel, maybe an hour or two, I don’t want us to get halfway through the day and want to go back halfway through the day.” He said looking up at you, you were staring down into the mug, eyes drooping a little as the tiredness finally caught up to you, he chuckled as you fought to keep your eyes open.

“You can sleep at the hotel, I’m not carrying you back there.” He warned you, poking your cheek with his finger playfully and making you laugh,

“I’ll be fine. I’m not even that tired.”

You lied, you ended up falling asleep in the taxi back to the hotel, you were out cold on his shoulder when you reached the big black gates so he paid the driver and carried you out of the car, putting you on his back, which was a struggle since you were asleep and not cooperating with him on that, he brought you up to your room, laying you down on your bed, putting you under the covers and tucking you in, smiling as you smiled in your sleep, your head snuggled against the pillow and he moved a stray hair from out of your face, watching as whatever you were dreaming about made you stir a little in your sleep, the corners of your lip were twitching and your eyes were fluttering, and you were letting out small little whimpers and giggles in your sleep.

“Goodnight Y/N.” He whispered, going over to his side of the room and setting an alarm for you to both get up for in the morning.

You were walking through the Entrance at I.M Pei’s pyramid, it was a breathtaking view, you couldn’t believe you were standing in the entrance, gazing up in shock at the ceiling, your mouth was hanging up a little and Namjoon chuckled as you span around looking up at nothing but the ceiling, he snapped a few photos of you on his phone, showing the group chat your amazement before coming over to your side, he was dressed in some blue jeans, a tan shirt and some sunglasses, trying to keep a low profile while you were both out sightseeing, no one knew where he was except the boys and you.

“Did you know it contains around 673 glass panes…Many people thought it was 666 but it’s not.” You whispered turning your attention to Namjoon who was staring at you in awe as you spat off facts to him about the building you were currently standing in.

“Others say its 689.” He said back to you, you smiled as he said this, he didn’t find your knowledge of useless facts boring or stupid, he liked that you gave him facts, things he didn’t know before or even things he did know. He liked to have long conversations about different topics with you, it’s why you got along so well as friends.

“You should start a blog.” He mentioned as you walked further into the museum together, you looked at him questioning if he was serious or not and he was, he had a look in his eye, the look he always had when he came up with an idea.

“I don’t think anyone would want to ready about my boring life.” You said with a laugh, walking over to some paintings and reading through the plaques, he watched as you squinted a little, you’d forgotten your glasses back home so you would be doing it for most of the trip, but he found it cute. The way your nose scrunched up when you did squint to read or see something and the way your eyebrows would frown together when you struggled to read something. You looked back at him and then smiled grabbing his hand and dragging him over to another set of paintings when you realised you were missing the best one, he watched you, biting down on his lip as you tapped an elderly lady on her shoulder, she turned to smile at you and you smiled back,

“Bonjour, pourriez - vous me dire où est la Peinture de mona lisa, s'il Vous plaît.” His mouth fell open as you spoke fluently in french to the elderly lady in front of you, you were full of surprises. He knew you spoke some french but he had no idea you were that good at it, that you could walk up to someone and have a fluent conversation with them, he continued watching in Awe as you threw your head back in a giggle fit, the elderly lady said something to compliment you then turned to look at Namjoon, his mouth shut not wanting to get caught staring at you with his mouth dropped open and she whispered something to you, whatever it was she said that Namjoon couldn’t hear caused you to blush a bright red colour and giggle at her, he continued looking at you both as she walked away, you thanked her quickly and going back to Namjoon’s side.

“This way.” You said taking his wrist and pulling him towards the Mona Lisa painting, you’d been wanting to see it since you heard about it in art class, it was everyone’s favourite. Very cliche but it was Paris after all, it was full of cliches.

“What did she say to you?” He questioned looking at the back of your head as you pulled him through different crowds of people, some in school uniforms, some just scattered about, you bit down on your lip trying to follow the directions she’d given you, you always had trouble remembering which was left and right in French, but that’s when you saw it, well the crowd of people surrounding the painting.

“Isn’t she beautiful.” You whispered dropping your hand from around Namjoon and going to the back of the crowd to get a glimpse of it, he was still wondering what the woman had said to make you blush so much but once he saw how fixated you were on the painting all of the thoughts were gone from his mind, he joined your side again, listening as you told him facts he already knew about it, but he didn’t care, he wanted to listen to you talk to him.

The bookshop inside of the museum was huge, bigger than any bookshop you’d been to before, you told Namjoon you wanted to get some gifts for the boys, you wanted to buy a painting book for Taehyung specifically so you were on the hunt for it while Namjoon was on the hunt for his presents to get everyone, then he spotted a book on the Mona Lisa, and he picked it up, adding it to his basket for you, keeping it as a surprise, you’d always hated when he bought you things, it never stopped him though.

“Joonie look.” You giggled coming over and holding up a keychain, he looked at it and smiled. It was a heartshaped keychain with a photo of you and him inside, you’d taken a selfie in front of a mirror together inside of the musuem, you knew you weren’t to post it anywhere since he didn’t want everyone knowing where he was just yet, he’d made you promise to wait before posting on your social media, you loved the photo so much though and wanted to print it off, you were going to put it back in your memory box when you got home for safekeeping but Namjoon had other ideas, he took it from you and attached it to his keys.

“Joonie!” You pouted, your bottom lip sticking out as you tried to give him your best puppy dog eyes to give it back to you, he looked down at you and you kept your lip out, hoping this would work, for a second you thought he was leaning down towards you and your heart almost skipped a beat but he chuckled walking away from you and going to pay for the items he’d picked up, you stayed there for a moment. Heart racing as you thought of how he looked at you like that, the way he looked perfect under the skylight of the shop you were in, you took a deep breath and moved away, going outside to get some fresh air and calm your racing thoughts. The elderly lady’s words from earlier coming crashing back to you like waves on a beach,

“Il n'y a qu'une seule raison, un garçon comme lui amènerait une fille comme toi à Paris … jeune amour.” You thought you’d lost the ability to speak French fluently when you heard her. “There is only one reason a boy like him, brings a girl like you to Paris…Young love.” You shook your head as if trying to scramble the words out of your head like an Etch-A-Sketch. Namjoon wasn’t in love with you, you were in love with him.

“Can you not just admit we’re lost?!” You yelled at Namjoon as you walked through the same footpath you’d been on for the last two hours, it was now dark outside and no one else was around. It was the last night of your trip and he’d promised he knew what he was doing. The last six days of your break had been amazing, you’d gone to different museums in the area, gone on a balloon ride in Parc Andre Citroen, he took you everywhere. Even had a fancy meal in one of the Eiffel Tower restaurants, you were being spoilt for time with him and every day you found yourself falling more and more in love with him, which wasn’t the purpose of the trip. The purpose of the trip was to spend time together since you didn’t get to do that much anymore, you didn’t want to fall more in love with him. You wanted to stay friends, you had to. You didn’t want to risk losing him at all, he was everything to you.

“We’re not lost, I know exactly where I’m going.” He said as he turned a corner, over a small wooden bridge, you slowly followed behind him, your legs were tired and you wanted to sit down. He’s brought you on a “small” hike to go and see something, he was keeping it a surprise though, and halfway on the “small” hike he lost the map he’d been using and now you were going round in what seemed like circles.

“Namjoon, please. I just need a minute.” You panted, leaning against the wooden bridge and looking at the lake below, he came back over to you and sighed patting the top of your head as you pouted out your bottom lip.

“I’m sorry…I thought that I would be able to find it without the map.” He said with a sigh, you shook your head and looked at him.

“It’s fine, we’ll find it. I just need a minute, my legs ache.” You pouted, he snickered as you pouted out your bottom lip dramatically at him, he took no time in bending down and throwing you over his shoulder, continuing to walk.

“Put me down Joonie-Ah!” You screamed as he pretended to drop you like he had your camera on the first night there, he chuckled starting to run with you over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift and you closed your eyes holding onto him tighter as he did so, you didn’t want him to drop you on your head as he ran, he was known for being clumsy.

“I know it’s around here somewhere.” He said to you, as you turned over a new bridge, finally, you were getting somewhere you hadn’t been before and it wasn’t the same tree over and over again. Namjoon stopped for a moment and switched you onto his back so he wasn’t carrying you in a fireman’s lift anymore, you laid your head down in his neck and closed your eyes for a few seconds.

“You better know where it is, or we’re camping out under the stars for the night.” You yawned, his breath hitched as he felt you breathing against his neck, your lips close to his skin, he began walking at a faster pace when he found it.

“See, I told you I knew what I was doing.” He said nudging you, you opened your eyes to see what he was talking about and you almost fell off his back, you were wide awake now, all thoughts of being sleepy gone out of your body. There was a huge white temple with a Bouchardon statue inside, you slid down off his back and slowly walking inside of it, looking up at the patterns on the ceiling of the temple and then at the statue, it was unimaginable. You’d never thought you’d get to come here, you didn’t even know Namjoon knew you wanted to come here, you’d only ever wrote about it in a project for school before and now you were living it.

“Joonie it’s-"

"I know.” He finished, neither of you able to put into words what the place was like, it was unspeakable, you both stood under the statue looking up at it and you could feel his hand brushing against yours.

“Thank you Joonie.” You whispered to him, not knowing why but feeling the need to be quiet in this situation.

“For what?” He questioned looking at you as you took out your camera and began taking snapshots for the blog he’d convinced you to start up, you even took a few shots of him while he had his back to you,

“Bringing me here, I never thought I’d get to come to Paris.” You whispered packing up the camera and joining his side, you were both sitting on the steps of the temple looking at the lake, he lent back on his hands and cocked his head to the side.

“I heard you and Hobi talking about it, I wanted to surprise you.” You smiled at him and leant your head on his shoulder, you felt your heart rate quicken at the contact with him, it felt perfect, something that only happened in romance novels and movies. You didn’t want to move from his side.

“It’s beautiful, I love it Joonie.” He moved forward and you took your head off his shoulder, he turned to look at you with a smile and you smiled back at him, neither of you said anything, but it wasn’t an awkward silence, he leant closer to you and your heart almost stopped beating entirely, as if it had given up hope on ever beating normally again, his eyes were closed and you knew it was coming, you closed your eyes as you got within an inch of him, your faces were almost touching when he let out a shaky breath, clearing his throat and pulling away from you, his eyes opened at the same time as yours.

“That’s what friends are for, right?” He said standing up and brushing off the jeans he was wearing, it was clear to you know that he didn’t see you as anything more than a friend and you felt like a fool for, ever thinking differently over the past week.

“I’m going to head back to the hotel, I’m really tired.” you lied not wanting to look at him right now, he was standing under the statue again, he hummed at you, neither of you looking at one another.

“You’ll be okay on your own?” You questioned looking at him but he didn’t look back at you, only nodded so you left the temple, trying to find your way back out of the park.

“Joonie?” You groaned making your way over to his side of the hotel room and shaking his bed, your eyes adjusted to the limited light in the room and you realised he still wasn’t back yet, your eyes shot open with concern, you’d left the part three hours ago, you rushed to the side of the room hitting the light switch on and trying to find your phone to call him.

“Joonie where are you?” You asked into his voicemail, hanging up and trying again a few moments later but again it was going straight to voicemail.

“Namjoon you’re worrying me now, where the fuck are you?” You hung up and put the phone on loud, dropping it onto the bed and going to find some sweatpants to change into, you were dressed in one of his shirts, you came back from the park and crawled into bed in his shirt because you wanted to feel close to him even if he didn’t want that with you.

“Joonie please, this isn’t some kind of joke, call me as soon as you get all of these messages.” You checked what time it would be back home and called Hoseok first but he wasn’t picking up so you tried Jin next, hopefully, he’d called one of them to check-in or something, on the third ring you noticed that Namjoon’s suitcase was missing out of the room, and so were the gifts he’d been buying along the trip.

“Hello?” You heard Jin say from the other line but you couldn’t form words right now, your mind was running out of control, trying to find a reasonable explanation for everything but there wasn’t one, he left you.

“H-Hey Jin, have you heard from Joonie?” You questioned, trying to sound as normal as possible, you didn’t want to jump to conclusions, this could all be some kind of misunderstanding.

“Yeah, he called about two hours ago, said you were on your way home already, did you enjoy yourself? Shouldn’t he be sat next to you on the plane?” He left you alone in Paris. With no note as to where he’d gone or why he’d gone.

“Jin he left on his own, he must have caught an early flight and not told me, did he say anything else to you on the phone? Maybe why he decided to leave his best friend in a foreign country on her own?!” You were starting to hyperventilate at the thought of this, he knew you couldn’t handle planes on your own, they made you on edge and panic, Jin was speaking on the other side of the phone but you couldn’t hear a word he was saying, you were trying to focus on breathing but it was hard, you dropped to your knees on the floor and you felt the tears well up in your eyes.

“Y/N!” You heard him yell from the phone in your hand, you hummed some kind of response to him, not being able to form any words right now.

“I’m sure it’s a mistake, I’ll have Hobi call him, or I’ll call him and Hobi can talk to you okay?!” You hummed again and there was a shuffling sound before you heard Hobi’s bright and cheerful voice on the other side of the phone.

“Jin is going to find him Y/N, But right now you need to think about yourself and your breathing.” You heard him say to you, he knew you were listening and he clicked facetime to make this easier, you accepted the call and he smiled at you, that smile would normally light up the room but right now it wasn’t doing much.

“Okay name five things you can see.” You nodded and glanced around the room to try and spot something.

“Clock, mirror, pillow, candle and er, Eiffel Tower.” You answered, your breathing was still shallow and hard to control but it was getting a little easier.

“Four things you can touch.” You looked at the phone and he was smiling at you reassuringly.

“Phone, clothes, hair, and floor.” You breathing was starting to return back to normal as he continued with the grounding technique.

“Three things you can smell."

"Joonie’s aftershave, fresh air and pancakes.” He was nodding at you and you smiled at him falling back onto your bum instead of sitting on your knees, you knew they would be bruised tomorrow from kneeling down so much.

“Two things you can hear?"

"Your voice and traffic out on the roads.” He hummed this time, and you relaxed against the end of the bed, listening to the early morning/ late night traffic of France.

“One thing you can taste?” You frowned,

“Nothing I’ve just woken up, my mouth?” He chuckled and you smiled a little, finally calm enough to hold a conversation now. Jin was back in the frame and smiling at you sadly, they all knew your fear with planes.

“He’s not picking up, I’ll try again soon. But your plane is in a few hours okay? Try and get some rest…I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for everything."

You were so exhausted you didn’t feel the bed dip when Namjoon got in next to you, you just rolled over in your sleep and threw your arms over him, that’s what woke you up, the sudden contact of someone else’s skin, you jumped out of the bed hitting him with every pillow from his bed, you’d gotten into his bed after you ended the call with Hobi, they promised to call you if they heard anything from him. Namjoon was laid there shirtless with nothing but a pair of Koya pyjama bottoms on and looked pissed off that you’d thrown pillows at him for seemingly no reason.

"Where the fuck, have you been?!” You yelled picking up a pillow and going to throw it at him but he pulled you down onto the bed so you were lying down next to him, he forced you to lay your head on his chest and stroked your hair.

“I went for a walk.” He lied to you, you scoffed pushing yourself off him and sitting up in the bed, your eyes were red from crying so much,

“I called Jin, you told him you were going home. You left me here.” You frowned, your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him, he sighed sitting up in the bed, you didn’t want to listen to him lie, he took his suitcases so it clearly wasn’t just a walk.

“I just wanted to go for a walk, clear my head.” You stared at him, not accepting his answer as a real answer when he stayed silent you got off the bed and went to find some pants, the sun was starting to rise anyway.

“Where are you going?” He called out staring at you as you slipped into some leggings and nothing but his baggy shirt, normally he loved seeing you standing in his clothes but right now he didn’t, right now he hated it because you were angry with him and walking away.

“I have last-minute gift shopping to do, might as well start it now.” You said going into the bathroom and locking yourself inside, you stared at yourself in the mirror, you were a mess. Your hair was up in a big messy bun, your eyes were bloodshot, and your cheeks were stained with tears.

“I wasn’t going to leave you here.” He said on the other side of the door, you looked at the door, tempted to let him inside but you knew you couldn’t do that.

“Well, certainly felt like you were. Just ask Hobi he had to calm me down at 2 am this morning.” You spat at him, not wanting to bring up the fact that you’d had a panic attack at him but you felt the need to, he had to know why you were so upset with him.

You came out of the bathroom, your hair was now up in a presentable ponytail, your face was clean and you were still dressed in his shirt and leggings.

“You had a panic attack?” He questioned looking at his phone, you assumed Hoseok had told him what happened earlier that morning and demanded an explanation from him as well as to why he would leave you like that.

“Yeah.” You said going to your side of the room and looking for your purse, you bent down under the bed, reaching for it and then coming back up to be face to face with Namjoon, he was still shirtless you looked up at his eyes, resisting the urge to look at his beautifully sculptured body.

“I didn’t mean to-” You shook your head, stopping him from blaming himself and you looked out of the balcony doors, it was getting brighter by the minute and you had to be at the airport for 11 am.

“I don’t want to talk about it, I have gifts to buy. What’s done is done okay?” You asked him, he nodded at you in silence and you pushed past him going to the hotel room door and swinging it open, but he came over and slammed it shut in front of you, his arm above yours resting there so you couldn’t open it again and leave, his chest was against your back.

“No, not okay.” He said to you, his eyes staring down at the back of your head, you were still facing the door not having the courage to actually turn around and face him you felt nervous underneath him, he was taller than you.

“Namjoon look it’s fine, I get that you just wanted to leave early or whatever, or that I made you uncomfortable earlier in the temple, I’m sorry.” He turned you around so you were facing him, looking up at him, he was shaking his head at you, he cupped your face in his hand, the one that wasn’t resting on the door, he ran his thumb along your jawline and you stared at him, he leant down to your height, his eyes closing and you felt your breath hitch, images of the night before flashing back to you, of him pulling away from you, your eyes welled up with tears again.

“Don’t kiss me if you’re going to pretend it never happened Namjoon.” You warned him, his eyes opened to meet yours, you meant it.

“Don’t you dare kiss me if you have plans on forgetting about it.” He smirked at you, he liked that you were this outspoken with him, he took in a deep breath and his thumb ran along your bottom lip.

“I don’t believe we’ve ever shared a kiss before.” You scoffed pushing against his bare chest not wanting to play that game with him but he grabbed your hands and pinned them above your head on the door.

“Joonie I don’t think I can take you pretending we never kissed again,” You moaned out, his lips just brushed the skin on your neck, he smirked at you.

“I’ve not even touched you yet and you’re already moaning my name,” You struggled against his grip, he was being too cocky and you hated him for it, he chuckled deeply, letting go of your wrists with both of his hands and leaving just one to keep your arms pinned up against the door, pulling his free hand down to your jawline, his thumb running along the skin, he pulled your head down, making you look at him.

“I won’t pretend it never happened again.” He promised you, he brought your face closer to his, your lips brushing against one another teasingly, you couldn’t take it anymore, you slammed your lips against his and you could feel him smirking into the kiss, his hand dropped from your wrists and you snaked them around his neck, pulling him down to you, his hands went around your waisted and lifted you up from the floor, earning a squeal to escape from your lips, he carried you over to the bed, laying you down against the pillows, hovering above you, his lips moved from yours to your jawline and then finally down onto your neck, where he began leaving his mark, licking over the skin he’d sucked on and kissing his way back up to your lips once more, you were sure there were going to be bright purple marks where he’d been kissing you.

“Fuck Joonie I love you.” You admitted between the breathless kisses you were exchanging on the bed, he smiled down at you, he ran his hand through your hair, he didn’t think the smile would ever fade away after he finally heard you say those three words to him, you stared at him, a little confused as to why he’d suddenly stopped kissing you, he got off the bed and left you, going over to the door again, your heart sank to the floor as you watched him walk.

“Don’t leave me again…please.” You said, your voice cracking at the end, he looked back at you, his heartbreaking as you thought he was just going to leave you like that, he bent down to reach inside of his bag and took out a black velvet box and coming over to you.

“I promised I wasn’t going anywhere.” He sat behind you in the bed, his legs either side of you, he pulled you back to lay against his chest as he leant back against the headboard, he put the box into your hand.

“Open it.” He hummed, moving the hair from your neck and leaving sloppy kisses up and down the exposed skin, you opened the box and inside was a rose gold heart-shaped locket, something was engraved in french.

“Je t'aime ~ Joonie.” You smiled running your hand along the side of the locket, it clicked open and inside was a photo of you and Joonie on the night of your first kiss, your mum had taken the photo of you both and you felt tears rush to your eyes, all this time you thought all of those kisses meant nothing to him.

“I originally planned on giving this to you last night, but I lost my courage.” He chuckled, his head resting in the crook of your neck as you both looked down at the locket together.

“It’s stunning Joonie, I love it.” He smiled and reached around you, taking it from the box and putting it around your neck.

“I love you.” He said to you once it was done up, your hands played with the locket, a giant smile on your lips as you stared at your best friend.

“I love you too.” You turned around to face him and kissed him once again. His phone began to vibrate from beside him, you pulled away from one another and then you remembered him always on his phone, talking to someone and smiling so much, he turned the phone over to see Jin calling him and he smiled.

“Hi, Jin…No…Yes I’m back…I didn’t chicken out, I gave it to her. She loves it.” It all started to make sense now, he’d planned the week with you because he wanted to tell you he loved you, you were the reason he was smiling so much at his phone because he wanted to make it all perfect for you. He hung up the phone and you looked at the lock screen, it was a picture of you, you hadn’t seen before, it was from the first night here, you could tell because it was the clothes you arrived in, you were stood out on the balcony looking up at the Eiffel Tower.

“When did you-”

“That’s not important, kiss me.” He said wrapping his arms around you and kissing you once again.

147 notes · View notes

melodyalanaroster · 4 years

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Glimpses

Warning: This is not for the faint of heart. This blurb has scenes that might trigger the reader. This blurb is VERY IMPORTANT to Alana’s Canon and parts of what is covered in here are mentioned in other blurbs. This simply goes into more detail.

“Please no! I don’t want to go!” Alana begged. “You have to.” Lynne sighed. “But, mom! Isn’t there anyone else who could do it! I don’t want to leave my friends! I can’t leave Nathaniel!” Alana’s voice wavered. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. You’re the only one free enough to be with me during this.” Lynne sighed. “I’ll try to make your living arrangements as comfortable as possible.” Nate attempted to boost Alana’s mood. “It doesn’t matter how comfortable my living arrangements are! What matters is that mom is sick and I’m being ripped away from my friends and the one I love to go half way around the world and watch my mother’s illness!” Alana cried.

★

Alana stood in Agatha’s back yard. Her friends from Amouria sadly standing around. “Look! It’s not goodbye! We’ll all be together again one day!” Rosalaya cheered. “I don’t wanna go.” Alana sighed. “We’ll make it through this.” Nathaniel kissed her forehead. “I’ve got an idea! Let’s do presents!” Alexy attempted to smile. “Presents?” Alana asked. “Yeah. We all got stuff for you to remember us by!” Alexy replied. Alana lead them to the outdoor living space and sat down. Once everyone was seated, Rosalaya handed Alana a box. “The girls, Alexy and I have been working on this since you first told us you had to leave.” Rosalaya beamed. Alana opened the box and picked up the book that was inside. She looked through the pages and saw that it was all photos, drawings, poetry, stories and flattened items. “This is wonderful! Thank you!” Alana began to tear up as she set the book down on the table. ��I guess it’s my turn.” Armin smiled as he stood up and handed a box to Alana. She opened the parcel and smiled. Inside was an Ocarina and a book on how to play it with songs. “I know you’re not that in to Zelda... But, maybe you can learn how to play “Lugia’s Song” with it.” He explained. “I promise, I’ll learn it. Thank you!” She grinned. She sat the Ocarina box on top of the album. Castiel and Lysander stood up and handed her two boxes. “They go together.” Lysander smiled. “Hopefully this will help it seem like we’re not so far away.” Castiel looked down and attempted to force himself to look cheery. “Its okay Cass. Don’t fake it.” Alana sighed. Castiel looked away and followed Lysander back to their seats. Alana opened Castiel’s package first and looked at it. “A CD?” She asked. “It’s all original songs. We found a recording studio that let us do it.” Lysander smiled. Alana’s eyes widened. “You got a band together just so I can hear you?” She asked. “Yeah.” Castiel grinned. “Open the one I gave you.” Lysander insisted. Alana opened the other box. She picked the item up and looked at it. “The lyrics to the songs that are on the CD, as well as personal notes are in it.” Lysander smiled. The item in her hand was one of Lysander’s notebooks. “It’s gonna be weird not helping you find or remember where you put these.” She grinned. “I know. And, normally, I wouldn’t give this out... But, I hope it will bring you comfort.” Lysander cooed.

After Alana opened all of their presents and thanked everyone, Rosalaya began asking Nathaniel what he got for her. “It’s a surprise. I’m gonna be one of the ones taking her to the airport, so, I’ve got a lot more time with her.” He replied as he gave Alana a loving look.

★

“Your mother is making progress, but she’s going to be somewhat immuno-compromised for the rest of her life.” The nurse explained as she and Alana stood outside the hospital room. “So, what does that mean?” Alana asked. “It means that her immune system is permanently impaired. I suggest that you tell her manager and publicist that she will have to limit her work and touring for a while.” the nurse explained. “I’ll have to discuss things with my step-father and the rest of my family. Mom’s publicist and manager will be quite angry. And don’t get me started on how her fans will react.” Alana began to stutter. “Surely they can’t be that bad.” The nurse commented. “Never underestimate the power of fandom. They all have their toxic sides. And not all of them are the most understanding people.” Alana explained.

★

“Well, you have two options. You could spend thousands of dollars to get rid of the clot, but his leg is already dead. His quality of life would be very poor, and the only way he wouldn’t be in pain would because of all the medicine he’d be taking. Or, you could euthanize him.” The vet spoke solemnly. Alana looked at him, shocked, then at the cat. “So, it’s either spend a ton of money for him to be alive but in pain, or let him die?” She had done her best to hold back tears, but one made its way through and slid down her cheek. “To put it plainly, yes.” the vet replied. She could tell Sylvester was in a lot of pain. She ran her hand along the cat’s body and thought for a minute. She desperately wanted to keep him alive, but she knew that it would be inhumane and selfish. “I don’t want to lose him... But I don’t want him to be in pain anymore...” Her voice wavered as more tears began to slide down her cheeks. He looked at her tired. She did her best to muster up an ounce of courage. “He may be “my” cat, but I know the family loves him. None of them would want me to let him live a life of pain... So, if it’s the only way for him to be free from this agony... T-Then it’s time to let him go.”

★

Alana sat at her desk working on her college work when her phone rings.

“Hello Carol.” “Melody! What is this about your mom not being able to tour as much when she gets better?” “Look, even with the best medicine that money can buy, her immune system is going to be permanently impaired. She’ll still be able to write and do things, but she’s going to have to be extra cautious.” “But her fans are expecting her to return to normal!” “Yeah, I’m aware of that. I’ve even told the medical team that this is going to be a road block. The fact is, her fans are going to have to get over it. If they truly care about her works, then they will understand. If they’re still irate about it, they can jump off a cliff for all I care.” -Carol scoffs- “Melody! You are supposed to be Lynne’s “Sweet Daughter!” don’t talk like your sister!” -Alana clenches her fists- “You know what? The last time I checked, YOU’RE NOT MY MOTHER! And, I don’t think that mom would appreciate her manager barking orders at me the way you do! Now, I am Melody Roster. I am my mother’s daughter! And if she and Sam have right to be upset and rude at times, then so do I!” “Melody!” “No! I have just told you that the literal TEAM of doctors, nurses and experts who are making sure my mom gets better have told me that she won’t be the same after this and you continue to complain as if its something I can magically fix! I expected this from the fans! But you? That makes this thing even worse!”

Alana hung up the call, plugged her phone into her computer, got onto video chat and called two people.

Nate: “Hey kiddo!” Verity: “Hey sweetie!” Alana plays the recording of her phone call with Carol. Nate and Verity are visibly upset. Alana: “Can we PLEASE get mom a new manager?!” Nate: “This is unacceptable!” Verity: “How dare she! How could anyone think that this kind of behavior is okay?” Nate: “Verity, if you help me, it shouldn’t take long for Carol to be dealt with.” Verity: “Of course I will! We mustn’t stand for this!’ Alana: “Thank you! I love ya’ll!”

★

Alana messages her friends.

“Rosa? Are you there? I need someone to talk to.” “Rosa? It’s been a couple of weeks. I haven’t heard from you, please, talk to me.” “Rosa, have I done something wrong? Please respond.” “Rosa, I miss you.”

“Leigh? It’s Alana. Rosa isn’t responding to my messages. Can you tell her I miss her?” “I will.”

“Alexy, are you okay? How are things at home?” “Alexy, can we talk?” “Alexy, Rosalaya isn’t talking to me. I hope you answer.” “Alexy, have I upset you?” “Alexy...”

“Hey Alana! How are you doing?” “Hey Armin! I’m not doing so well....” “What’s wrong? Is your mom not doing well?” “Eh... It seems like she’s in limbo for a moment. She’s still conscious, and they’re working on getting her better. Nate, Viktor and Severina are doing everything in their power to get her the best medicine possible, so she’s not going to die.” “That’s good. I heard about Sylvester. I’m sorry you lost him.” “Thanks. With him gone, it’s been even more lonely around here.” “I bet. Are you still talking to everyone? Nathaniel said that you two are still video chatting and texting every day.” “Nath, Cass, Lysander, Priya, Viktor, Severina, the family and you are all still talking to me as much as ya’ll can... But, it seems Rosa and Alex have cut me off...” “What? I thought they were always talking to you.” “No, it’s been weeks. I’ll send you the screenshots.” “That’s wrong. I’ll see what I can do.” “Thanks.” “Anytime.”

★

“PLEASE! LET ME GO! PLEASE!” Alana cried as the men surrounded her, pinning her against a wall and grabbing at her clothes. Suddenly a figure burst onto the scene. “Harming an innocent young woman. How pathetic!” it was a woman’s voice. “GET LOST YOU BITCH! UNLESS YOU WANNA GET HURT OR JOIN THIS LITTLE SLUT!” One of the men called as they returned their attention to Alana. “HELP ME!” Alana screamed. The woman ran towards Alana’s attackers and knocked them away. “My entrance to the scene was a warning. You had time to get away from this young girl. Now, you will face my wrath.” She began kicking and punching the men with great precision. In her terror, Alana fell back against a wall. As the woman continued to fight the men, Alana couldn’t help but be reminded of the leather clad, weapon wielding, heroines of the movies that she and her mother enjoyed. As the woman pulled out a gun, a higher wave of terror washed over Alana. “She’s going to kill them!” Her mind said. The woman aimed for each man’s neck and shot. Once every man was on the ground, the woman looked at her and began walking towards her. “It’s okay. I’m not going to harm you.” She said. Alana looked at the woman, then at the men on the ground, then back at the woman. “Don’t worry. I simply tranquilized them. They will not die here.” The woman reassured. “Who are you?” Alana asked. The woman took her cloak off and wrapped it around Alana. “I am Azrael.”

★

“It has been decided that you four will become the Red Death Regimen’s newest team in the Senior Staff. You will now be known as the Crown Jewels and will work with the Executioners. You will be the hand of mercy while they are the hand of death.” The Red Death announced. Renee raised her hand. “Yes.” The Red Death called. “Then why are we receiving combat training?” She asked. “Because, the more you know about how to kill someone, the better you’ll understand about how to save the innocent and harm the guilty.” The Red Death replied.

★

The Red Death stormed into Azrael’s office. “YOU DID WHAT?!” He boomed. Azrael looked at her husband. “I just ended Melody’s relationship.” Her voice was frank. “There was a plan to bring Mr. Jacott here to keep him safe while she trains. You knew that!” The Red Death was fuming. “Melody must learn that this world isn’t fair. That life is full of shit and she must rise from the ashes.” Azrael remarked. “She already knew that. All you’ve done is rip the last shred of her happiness away from her. Helena, this will not end well for you. You’ve taken a young woman who is already depressed from her recent experiences and broken her heart.” The Red Death’s voice was solemn. Azrael scoffed. “It will be fine Henry. Once she’s completely broken, I’ll put her back together.”

★

“Drink it.” The Red Death demanded as he handed a bottle to Alana. “What is it?” She asked. “It’s a shake. It contains all your daily nutrients in it. If you’re “too depressed” to eat, then the least you can do is drink these shakes.” He explained. “What’s the point? I don’t have my friends. My family is far away. I don’t even have my love.” She whined. The Red Death sighed. “Because you’ll be running towards them eventually and you need to have your base strength.” His voice maintained its sternness. “What do you mean?” She asked. “You’ll know in due time. For now, focus on crawling out of the abyss.” He replied.

★

Alana walked through the halls of the Base, shake in hand. Suddenly, a smell made its way to her nose. She breathed the smell in, closed her eyes, and leaned against a wall. Memories of the smell flooded her mind. “Mom.” She thought. She dropped the shake and began walking in the direction of the scent. When she reached the place of the scent’s origin, she realized she was standing before the kitchen door. When she opened the door, she saw her mother standing over the oven. “M-Mom?” She muttered as she walked closer to Lynne. “It’s me, sweetie.” Lynne greeted as she looked at her. Alana looked at what Lynne was cooking. “Quesadillas.” She muttered. “Come on sweetie, sit down.” Lynne cooed. “What are you doing here?” Alana asked. “The Red Death brought me here. He said it would do you some good to have me around.” Lynne explained. “I’ve missed you Mom.” Alana whimpered as a tear rolled down her cheek. She noticed the fajita beef on the plate that her mother was working on, and took a piece. “I’ve missed you too, my love.” Lynne replied as she continued cooking.

Suddenly, the kitchen door opened and someone stepped through it. “That smells delicious!” the person said. Lynne looked up and became enraged. “Your husband told me that I wouldn’t see you during my visit, Azrael.” Her voice was low and solemn. “I know, I just couldn’t help myself! The smell was just too good!” Azrael smiled. “This food is for MY daughter. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get as far away from me as possible.” Lynne snarled. “Remember, you’re in MY base! I can do whatever I want!” Azrael’s smile began to fade. “REMEMBER, MY daughter is in your care, and you have completely disregarded her well being for your personal gain!” Lynne’s snarling became more fierce as she reached for a large knife. As she walked over to Azrael, she began to hold the knife higher. When she reached Azrael, her eyes burned in to the woman and she pointed the knife to her throat. “I have no intention of shedding blood today, but if I must do so to protect my daughter, I will. So, I will say this one last time, GET AS FAR AWAY FROM ME AS POSSIBLE!”

★

“Mom? What’s wrong?” Alana stared at the screen as her mother’s face looked grim. “Your friend Lysander.... His parents have died.” Lynne explained. “WHAT! Oh my gosh!” Alana stepped back in horror. “I reached out to him. Apparently he’s intending on taking over his family’s farm. He said he’d like you to be at the funeral.” Lynne replied. Alana looked down. “I can’t leave the base right now. We’re about to go on an important mission.” She sighed. “I’ll make sure that the Ainsworth boys get our sympathies.” Lynne sighed. “Can you make sure to either make food or have food made for them?” Alana requested. “Why can’t you just come to the funeral? Surely the Red Death and Azrael will understand.” Lynne asked. “You know why.” Alana replied. She looked at the notebook Lysander gave her, a wave of sadness overtaking her. “I wish I could go be with him. I know he needs his friends right now... But you know what that might do. I’m not in a position to be able to protect him.” She explained.

★

“SARGENT BROWN YOU ARE HEREBY DEMOTED TO PRIVATE!” General Stark barked. Evan stood in front of his mates, his face the perfect image of horror and disbelief. “Why?” He asked. “Since being sent to the R.D.R base for special training, your conduct has been extremely unprofessional. You have harassed and disrespected Lady Melody to the point that the Red Death has considered issuing the death penalty. You should be grateful that Lady Melody simply suggested demotion.” General Stark looked disappointed. “We told you to leave her alone!”, “Idiot!”, “Actually thought he stood a chance with The Patron Saint Of Lost Children!”, “She told you to you’re not worth her time and you didn’t take the hint!”, a few of the other soldiers called. “But, I’ve known Alana since she and her sister were in High School! They’re friends with my brothers! Her sister is dating my best friend!” Evan called as horror began to overcome him. “Best friend?” a voice called. The soldiers looked in the direction of the voice. “Brigadier General Roster, Major General Rogers.” General Stark greeted. “Good afternoon General.” Kentin nodded before turning back to Evan. “Let’s go for a walk.” He growled.

As the three of them realized that they had privacy, Kentin hit Evan upside the head. “Idiot. All you had to do was leave her alone. That’s it! Complete your special training and leave Alana alone! But, you couldn’t even do that!” He scolded. “But, she’s Alana. I’m allowed to be casual with her.” Evan stood there in disbelief. “No, you’re not. She made it very clear that she doesn’t care for you. Your own peers told you not to mess with her. You were warned multiple times. The Red Death was serious about bringing up the death penalty. He protects the Crown Jewels and Executioners as if they were his own children and he’s insanely protective towards Mels. You ignored your training because of your obsession with trying to get my sister to notice you. Haven’t you even thought about the fact that what she’s become has made it to where she can’t talk to Alexy and Armin? Are you so dense that you can’t be bothered to realize that her break up with Nathaniel was not because she doesn’t love him anymore? I thought we got this through to you when you visited us at Sweet Amoris, but when someone says “No.” that means “No.”.” Sam scolded. “You’ve caused issue between the two organizations and because of that, it’s dragged us through the mud. What made you think that this was okay? I get it, you recognized Alana... But you were made aware of her position instantly. Sam and I can be casual with her because we’re family, but you knew you had to respect her and you completely disregarded it.” Kentin added. “Come on! Surely this doesn’t warrant demotion and isolation!” Evan protested. “You harassed a Crown Jewel and neglected your orders! Of course it does!” Kentin hissed. “As it is, knowing The Red Death, he’s gonna do more than just have the Military demote you. Mels has told him not to have you executed, but he can, and will, probably still ban you from R.D.R premises.” Sam concurred.

★

“YOU BITCH!” Alana screamed as she ran up to Azrael and threw her out of a window. Alana used her tech to get to the ground safely. Azrael got to her feet, but before she could counterattack, Alana was already charging towards her. “YOU ENDED THE LAST GOOD THING I HAD BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME TO BE COMPLETELY BROKEN SO YOU COULD PUT ME BACK TOGETHER THE WAY YOU WANTED ME TO BE!” Alana lashed at Azrael in every way possible. “You wanted to become stronger! I did it to make you strong! You had to have nothing so you could build yourself up!” Azrael did her best to defend herself from the flaring ball of rage that Alana had become. “I WANTED TO BECOME STRONGER, I DIDN’T WANT TO BECOME YOUR WEAPON! EVEN THE RED DEATH KNEW I NEEDED AT LEAST SOMETHING!” Alana’s movements were erratic, yet focused on her target. Azrael’s eyes widened as she attempted to stop the attack. Alana noticed Azrael’s gun had fallen on the ground, so she picked it up and shot a tranquilizer into Azrael’s leg. As her teacher fell to the ground, Alana’s glasses activated, however, her pupils were red, instead of blue. The scene had drawn a crowd. “Why is no one stopping her?”, “Stop this!”, “Why have you not ordered Lady Melody’s death for committing treason!” people called.

Alana shot another dart into Azrael’s other leg. Azrael began using her arms to try to crawl away. Alana shot a dart into Azrael’s arm, threw the gun to her side, then stood over her, her foot holding the remaining arm down. Azrael looked pitiful, a broken woman covered in blood, bruises and cuts. Alana grabbed a knife from her pocket, knelt down and looked at the woman. “Go ahead. Kill me. You’ll finally get what you’ve wanted. You’ll finally be executed.” Azrael breathed. Alana stared into Azrael’s eyes, contemplating her next move. She could hear people yelling at her and begging the Red Death to stop her. “I can take the shot, sir!”, someone said. “If you shoot Melody, you will be executed.” the Red Death solemnly stated. Alana continued to stare into Azrael’s eyes. A little voice in her head began making itself known. “Yes! Do it! She deserves it! Mom is well now, if that bitch hadn’t of broken you, you’d probably be home with Nathaniel and everyone! She deserves this!”. The dots in her lenses maintained their intense, red, color. She raised the knife over Azrael’s right eye. “The entire time, I trusted you. I wanted to get stronger. I wanted to thank you for saving me in that alleyway.... But you were using me. You were turning me into the weapon you wanted! You didn’t care about me! You don’t care about any of us! Why else would you overstep your boundaries?!” She yelled. The little voice in her head continued to talk “Why are you not ending her? Come on! Why are you not getting your, much deserved, revenge?” it asked. “Don’t care about you? I gave you power. I gave you abilities that you wouldn’t have had before. You are now someone that no one will mess with.” Azrael sneered. “You’ve broken my heart, mind, and body. And, in the process of all that, you’ve attempted to destroy my soul. How is it that, even after actually killing people, and training a group of killers, that the Red Death has more heart and soul than you? You made us into monsters, but he has kept our souls intact.” Alana replied. “SHUT UP AND KILL HER!” the voice in her head screamed. She stood up, threw the knife away from them, and pressed her foot against Azrael’s throat, lightly. She then pressed a button on the bridge of her glasses, causing her lenses to clear.

“You are a demon, Azrael. While I should not allow demons to live, you are a special case. Killing you would destroy my humanity... Something I know you’d love to be the reason for. However, death is a mercy that you do not deserve and I refuse to give you the satisfaction.”

★

“I can’t believe you’re actually rewarding her for the countless acts of treason she’s committed against me!” Azrael yelled as the door shut behind her. The Red Death sighed and lit his cigarette. His jade green eyes looked exhausted. “Countless? Wife, you mean one. One act of high treason... That you know, full well, you caused.” He began. Azrael opened her mouth, but before she could talk, the Red Death put his hand up. “Helena, I told you that this would not end well for you and I was right. I began doing my damnedest to counter the damage you’ve inflicted upon Melody the day you ended things between her and Mr. Jacott. I was the one who set up her therapy sessions, who kept her from dying when she refused to eat, who brought her mother here to aid her recovery... Hell, I even got her that new cat. All you’ve done is harm her. You were much more benevolent with Renee, Veronica and Lyra. But with Melody, you started out nurturing then you became torturous.” He continued. “I nurtured her! She quickly became one of our best agents! Her grades in college never faltered, even with the rigorous training!” Azrael argued. “No, you’ve made it clear that the freedom you promised her came with one hell of a price. One, a girl in her position, shouldn’t be put through. You knew she was broken and scared and you took advantage of that.” he replied. “How does that warrant a reward? The apartment at the top of the Black Tower is meant for us!” Azrael argued. “Not anymore. I discussed things with the U.N.. They agree that it would be more appropriate for our home to be in the heart of the tower and that Melody should have the apartment at the top. So, I’m having her turn that place into Death’s Domain.” he explained. “Why did you bring the United Nations into our business?!” Azrael asked shocked. “Helena, our organization is on the brink of a civil war. There are a lot of people who want to see Melody completely overthrow you. Just as there are a lot of people who want to see you execute her. The humane thing is for her to have her own base in the Black Tower and let her become a weapon that is never used. The U.N. agrees that what you did to her was horrific and that my plan for her will be best. They want to see what she will do when she’s able to do what she wants.” The Red Death blew a plume of smoke out of his mouth and tapped the cigarette on the edge of the ash tray. “Melody wants to be executed!” Azrael yelled. Her husband sighed. “Really? If she truly wanted that, she would have done something far worse when she had the chance. No, she wants freedom. Something the U.N. and I are willing to give her. She’s earned it.”

After a couple of hours of discussion, Azrael had begun pacing around the room. “And what will happen with me? The world does not need to find out that the leader of the Crown Jewels isn’t loyal to me.” She asked. “That has already been decided. I’m going to tell Melody that she only has to answer and be respectful to you in public... To save face. The entire organization and the U.N. knows where her real loyalty lies.” he replied. “And the Roster Family?” she asked. “Lynne is already aware of the plan. She approves of it.” The Red Death leaned back in his seat. “Well, I guess it’s time to promote a Paladin.” Azrael sighed. “I’m sure Melody will choose Nora. Out of all of the Paladins, she’s the one Melody has gotten the closest to. I approve of this. The Crown Jewels will need another strategist whenever Melody isn’t around and Nora is the best strategist in her team.” he explained. “Then I don’t want to promote her!” Azrael whined. The Red Death lit another cigarette. “Too bad. At this point, you’re more of a figurehead. The U.N. won’t answer to you as they see you as too corrupt. To keep you in your position, I must jump through many flaming hoops.”

★

The Red Death stormed in to the Control Room. “WHAT HAPPENED!” he snarled. “We’ve been hacked!” Veronica called. “We’re searching for the hacker!” one of her underlings added. Alana walked into the room. “What did they do?” She asked. “From what I can tell, they simply looked around.” Veronica replied. “How long until we know precisely what they wanted to see?” Alana asked. “It shouldn’t take long. We’ve got half the team going through our systems to find out how they got in and what they were looking for, and the other half of the team is looking for who did it.” Veronica explained. The Red Death looked around the room at all the screens. “FIND THEM!”

“Sir! We’ve found out who hacked us!” Veronica called. “Was it an enemy organization?” Alana asked. “A cartel? A human trafficking ring?” Derek asked. “No, it was an individual.” Veronica replied. “Did you find out what they wanted? Did they take anything?” Alana asked. “No, they didn’t take anything. It seems like they just looked around... It’s as if this person just wanted to see if they COULD hack our systems.” Veronica explained. The Red Death thought for a minute. “Send a team to bring them here. We will deal with this individual ourselves.” He ordered.

The Red Death, Azrael, the Crown Jewels, the Executioners and the Paladins filled the circular court room. Nora brought the prisoner into the center of the room and forced them to their knees. “You have committed quite the crime. Thinking you could hack into our systems and get away with it.” The Red Death began. The prisoner tried to speak, but the only noise that came out was muffled. “SILENCE!” The Red Death ordered. The prisoner froze. “You may not have stolen anything, but the fact that you simply stayed in our systems long enough to look around at our information is a grave mistake. Nora, show me his face.” He commanded. Nora took the bag off of the prisoner’s head. Alana instantly froze with fear. “No, not him!” She thought. The Red Death rose to his feet. “THERE IS ONLY ONE PENALTY FOR SUCH A CRIME. We cannot have you walking around with our secrets in your head!” He began. Alana rose to her feet, walked towards the end of the seats, jumped down to the ground and started walking towards the prisoner. The prisoner looked at her, his eyes widened in shock. “Alana.” He gasped. Alana pushed the prisoner back and stood in front of him. “MELODY! WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!” The Red Death called. “Just another act of insubordination! How’s it feel, husband?” Azrael remarked. Alana looked at the Red Death with conviction. “You said that under the articles of Protocol 714, the list of people written under the Protection Act are immune. Armin is one of the ones listed! Yes, he hacked our systems, but, if he can do it, then so could one of our enemies. He did us a service by showing us a weakness in our security... And I will not let you kill him!” She announced. Veronica looked on her tablet for a minute. “Sir, she’s right, this guy’s name and picture are in our database for that.” She stated. “Are you going to allow her to continue her insubordination?” Azrael asked. The Red Death looked down and thought for a minute. “What do you suppose we do, Melody?” He asked. “I suggest we have him show us how he got in and then tell us how we can boost our security. As for after that, don’t we have several cyber security companies under us?” Alana asked. “Yes, we do. One of which is in a country near your home country. Just a few hour’s drive from Amouria.” Veronica replied. “We can give him a job there. It keeps him just visible enough to seem normal, but still have him work under us, thus, keeping our secrets safe.” Alana stated. The Red Death pondered for a moment, then looked at Armin. “ON YOUR FEET.” He ordered. Armin got up and stood in front of Alana. “It seems that you won’t be dying today.... The ONLY reason for that is that you’re protected by one of the Crown Jewels. For that, you owe her your life. To repay this debt, you will go along with Melody’s suggestion, and you will not speak of any of this to a single soul. Should you break privacy, I will negate the Protection Act and end you.” The Red Death announced. “Yes, Sir!” Armin, sheepishly, called back.

Everyone got up and began walking out of the court room. When Armin and Alana were alone, she grabbed his shirt and pinned him against a wall. “WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING! YOU ALMOST GOT YOURSELF KILLED!” She hissed. “A-Alana! I’m s-sorry! I d-didn’t mean to!” He stuttered. “Damn it! I thought you were over this shit!” Alana let go of him and huffed. “I just wanted to see if I could do it! I had heard that their systems are the best in the world!” He stammered. “Of course, it had to be you. It could have been someone NOT on my list.... But no, it’s you...” She sighed. “A-Alana...” He began. “Don’t call me that. It’s not who I am around here. You may call me “Melody”, “Lady Melody” or “Mels”.” She interrupted. “But...” He attempted to continue. “Look, a lot of shit has happened since I went “off the grid”, Okay? Now, your mission is to do as I tell you so you can stay alive. And, seriously, you are now, officially, sworn to secrecy, ESPECIALLY about my identity. It’s not time for the world to know what I’ve become yet.” She explained. “So, what am I going to do?” He asked. Alana looked at him, her eyebrow raised. “Exactly what you’re told to do. You’re going to boost our security, then go work for an outer lying company that we own. This will allow you to, technically, live a normal life.”

★

Alana sat at a desk, listening to music, and working on college work. “HEY MELS!” Derek burst into the room, happily. “Derek, if you interrupt me, I’m going to have to kick your ass.” She stated as she continued to type on her laptop. “But! Come on! I’ve had the perfect idea for what to watch in the Recuperation Room!” Derek announced. Alana sighed and pulled out one of her earbuds. “What?” She asked as she continued to work. “Let’s watch Hellsing Ultimate Abridged!” He suggested. “Didn’t we just watch that?” She asked. “YEAH, but the new episode is out!” He replied. She rolled her eyes. “Derek, Veronica and I are planning on continuing to watch Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron Blooded Orphans today.” She stated. “Awe! Come on! You two always cry while you watch that anime!” He whined. “It’s a really good, sad, anime. And we’re almost done with it. Let’s save Hellsing for after we finish so that Veronica and I can have something to lighten our moods.” She proposed. “Alright.” He looked disheartened. “Derek, don’t you have school work to get to?” She asked. Derek’s eyes shot up. “You forgot... Again.” She sighed. “SHIT!” He yelled as he ran out of the room. Alana put her earbud back in to her ear, continued working on her school work and sighed. “Dumbass.”

★

“Hey Mels! Listen to this!” Renee ran up to Alana, excitedly and put her headphones on Alana’s head. Alana’s eyes widened as she recognized the singer’s voice. “Isn’t it great?” Renee asked. “Y-Yeah.” Alana replied. “Castiel.” She thought. “It’s a band called Crowstorm. The lead singer is AMAZING. Apparently, they’re from your town.” Renee explained. “Cool.” Alana thought back to her CD. She remembered going to the school’s basement and hanging out with Castiel whenever Nathaniel had to do after school work and couldn’t hang out. She began to remember the conversations with Castiel, listening to him play his guitar, and, even his fights with Nathaniel. She couldn’t help but feel a wave of nostalgia wash over her. “Thanks Renee.” She grinned as she walked off.

★

Derek walked in to the Red Death’s office with a curious look on his face. “Sir, why are we not performing Purification in Amouria?” He asked. “I have my reasons.” The Red Death replied. “But, that’s basic protocol. Won’t something bad happen if we let the criminal activity continue?” Derek asked. “Are you really going to question my methods?” The Red Death asked. Derek looked down. “No, sir.” he sighed as he walked out of the office.

Henry Dearil sighed, opened his computer and looked at a file. “Because if we perform Purification now, HE will be caught in the line of fire. For Melody’s sake, we can’t have that.” He sighed. Staring back at him, on the screen, was a database of the known drug cartel members in Amouria. Next to a picture of a blonde haired, golden eyed, boy was a paragraph titled “NATHANIEL JACOTT”.

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This blurb has been needed for a long time.

There is so much that I wanted to include in this... Things like scenes of Alana training, coordinating missions, saving people, going to therapy, the rare occasion of her spending time with family, and actually working on building stuff.... However, this would have been a lot longer than it is.

It was also originally gonna be a lot more brutal and gorey. I was originally planning on having Lynne stab Azrael in the collarbone during the Kitchen Scene. I was also originally planning on having Alana tear out Azrael’s right eye during the scene where she goes berserk. My original plan was for Alana to keep Azrael’s real eye in a vault in the Black Tower and have Azrael get a high tech prosthetic. I ended up going for the less brutal options in this because, when I went to write these, my original plans sounded too horrific and cliche. It also felt that, if I had done this, no amount of therapy and hard work would allow Alana to act as “normal” as she does by the time UL starts.

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