#because the Barbie brushes weren’t going to cut it | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Note

💖💘my heart’s dizzy and I my dose of serotonin whenever I read your prose🤟🏽😩 was wondering if you could do reader with an erratic future-vision!quirk so when they first meet yandere!Hawks they’re suddenly plagued by erotic, sensual, 365days-level of disturbing visions of them, so reader actively avoids them (it’s like those Tik Tok future-seeing videos playing to “Play Date”)

Prelude - Hawks isn’t a famous pro-hero in this, but he still has his quirk. It’s not really mentioned a bunch tho lol. This is rlly long, but I decided not to put it into two parts because the smut is so slight lol. Hope this meets your expectations anon, thank you for reading!

Pairing - Keigo Takami X Reader

Warnings - NSFW mentions, dubcon, noncon. No out-and-out explicit smut, just a really long story. Hawks is manipulative and gets what he wants

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5ukAQcKEIJuzIbP55xp07x?si=iz6I-RoDSdCNYhT2Du8etg

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

He was a friend of a friend, someone you had only met once or twice.

Your friend kept bringing him to hangouts, he kept showing up on her instagram feed, getting mentioned in her twitterbio, and eventually it came out that they had started dating. It didn’t catch anyone by surprise.

What did catch you by surprise, was how infatuated with him your friend was.

“He’s just sooooo hot, isn’t he?” She squealed, shoving her phone in your face to show off a shirtless pic he had just sent her.

You nodded in agreement, quickly appraising the pic before turning your head. Yeah, her boyfriend was attractive, but you weren’t one to ruin relationships. Plus, you and Keigo had never really talked past the brief “Hey” and “Wassup?” said in greeting when introduced the first time.

“Can he come to the mall with us on Friday? I promise there will be no third wheeling.” Your friend begged, clasping her hands together. You thought about it for a second - this had been a fun shopping trip the two of you had planned a few weeks ago, meant as a girls date on a day the mall wouldn’t be crowded. But would it really hurt anything if her boyfriend came along? Probably not.

“Yeah, I don’t mind.” You shrugged, watching your friends face erupt into a wide grin. “But don’t ditch me to go makeout in a bathroom or something, got it?”

“Sir yes sir!” Your friend faux saluted, before patting you on the shoulder. “Thanks girlie!”

You jerked back, head suddenly swarming with visions, your quirk activating. Your quirk was helpful in some ways, but you mainly tried not to use it - headaches resulted, and you hated getting glimpses of the future. Sometimes they’d be good, but they were often bad - you had gotten a screenshot glimpse of your brothers death, his face marred and bleeding out onto the pavement.

It still made you sick to think about it.

Touch wasn’t something you could always avoid, but you tried, seeing as how it activated your quirk, giving you visions of your future with whomever you touched, or whoever touched you.

You saw your friends face, eyes puffy with tears, shouting something. Then another scene flashed, your friend on TV, talking to a reporter.

Thankfully, the visions ended, this episode relatively quick due to how short of a time she touched you.

“Oh shit, I forgot, I’m so sorry.” She rushed to apologize, holding her hands up and backing away from you.

“It’s-it’s fine.” You wheezed, waving your hand in the air to signal that it wasn’t a big deal. The vision just probably meant the two of you would get into a fight soon, which wasn’t uncommon. It was fine, you were fine.

——

The mall wasn’t too crowded, which made the day pleasant. Your friend was talking to her boyfriend, hand tangled with his as the three of you walked in.

“So (Y/N), what do you think about that new Victoria’s Secret launch?” Your friend bumped you with her hip, drawing your attention as she pulled you into the conversation between her and her boyfriend.

“Oh, um… what?” To be fair, you had zoned out when the couple started being gross and mushy, which was like, the second your friend met Keigo at the door.

The blonde man laughed. “Victoria’s Secret just launched a new line of lingerie, have any thoughts about it?”

Turning red, you smiled sheepishly. “Ah, well…. From what I’ve seen of their stuff it’s… nice? So I’m sure it’s good.”

Your friend mock-gasped, almost slapping you on the arm before quickly remembering your quirk, drawing her hand back. You gave a quick nod of thanks.

“(Y/N)! Don’t tell me you didn’t even know about it?! I practically live, eat, and sleep Victoria’s Secret, it’s impossible to miss their product drops when you’re one of my friends.”

Unsure how to respond, you floundered, opening and closing your mouth like a lost fish.

“Babe, leave her be, she’s probably just shy.” Keigo stepped in, giving his girlfriend a chuckle as he steered you both towards a shop.

“Fineeee.” Your friend whined, turning to focus on the task ahead. “They have a VS shop here though, you’re not getting out of here without going in with me!”

----

The VS store was huge, smelling sweetly of flowers, bright colors assaulting your vision, soft pop music filling your ears.

It was hard not to cringe at all the fancy lingerie, you were honestly a bit embarrassed to be strolling through the store with your friend, let alone her boyfriend by her side.

“Does-does Keigo mind?” You quietly asked your friend, out of earshot of her boyfriend, who was looking at perfumes, last time you checked.

“Not at all birdie, I’m used to clothes, any form, any shape.”

You whirled around, squeaking in surprise at Keigo, who had apparently finished with browsing the perfume. He was flashing you a 1000 watt grin, continuing with what he was saying. “I’m a model, practically every girl I’ve ever met I’ve seen in less than full underwear, it’s no big deal.”

“Oh…. Cool.” You offered, cheeks turning red again. You felt like such a blushing schoolgirl, turning red when faced with looking at bras and panties, flushing when a man got too close.

It was the nature of the store, you told yourself, that was making you so embarrassed.

“Oo! What do you think of this one?” Your friend was holding up a babydoll, pink, with light fabric and zero coverage.

Keigo wolf whistled. “Man, that’d be a good look for you. Lets buy it.” The couple moved on, pointing at different clothes, your friend occasionally picking one from the rack to hold up against her body, looking for Keigo’s opinion.

They were cute together, laughing over the cheesy names on the tags of the lingerie, holding hands as the browsed, your friend occasionally stopping to plant a kiss on her boyfriend’s cheek.

“I think that’s everything that I like…. (Y/N), your turn!” Pulled out of your casual observance, you back pedaled. “Me? No, I’m not really the type to wear this kind of stuff - I don’t even think most of it would fit, I have weird proportions.“

“Nonsense!” Keigo looked around for a moment, going to the nearest rack to quickly sift through bras, before pulling one out. “This one would make all the boys drool over you honey.”

He held it out towards you, shaking it slightly when you hesitated to take it. Was your friend okay with him talking to you like that, pushing underwear at you to buy? A quick glance sideways showed she was more than okay with it, clasping her hands excitedly as she watched you.

The bra was sheer, soft lavender fabric forming the cups, an intricate embroidered detail of flowers dotted haphazardly over the bra. It was pretty, but you weren’t exactly partial to it. When would you wear it? Who would you wear it for? You weren’t sure it was your style. Plus, it probably wasn’t even your size.

“My arm’s gettin’ real tired.” Keigo joked, before you finally took the garment from him. Checking the size, you paused for a second, blinking towards the man.

“How did you-?”

“You spend enough time in the fashion industry, you learn to tell a girl’s size just by looking at her.” He seemed to puff up, as if he was proud of his bra-sizing skills.

“Let me help her pick out some things too!” Your friend cried, rushing past you to head over to the next rack, ushering you to follow with a wave of her hand.

You ended up with an armful of lingerie - bras, panties, an odd bustier or two, and some other flowy items, like a sheer robe and a lacy chemise. The choices weren’t exactly made by you, more so made by a combination of your friend and Keigo together. They had alternated holding up items towards your body, comparing color and garment cuts, lost in their own mushy-gushy world, and it was almost like you didn’t exist for a few moments, nothing more than a barbie doll to dress up.

But now the three of you stood in line to checkout, and you felt included again, your friend cracking jokes that were making you snort, Keigo watching the two of you interact.

Until your friend accidentally brushed against your arm as she shifted forward in line.

Again, you saw her tearful face, heard her sobbing, before the other scene flashed, of her on TV, talking to the reporter. She still looked upset, eyes rimmed red, nose running, hair a mess.

With a gasp, your vision returned to the present, and you were wobbling on your feet, almost falling.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry (Y/N), I’m so so sorry. Here, let me take that, go sit down by the entrance.” She fussed over you, face concerned as she carefully took the stack of clothes from your arms, making sure to not make contact.

“Oh fuck, is she alright?” You heard Keigo ask, your friend stepping in front of you as he moved forward to check on you.

“Yeah, she’s just feeling a little dizzy. Can you make sure she doesn’t fall and crack her head open? Just wait by the entrance please.”

“Okay. Oh, here-“ You were a bit dazed, but you saw Keigo fish his wallet out of his pocket, thrusting the entire thing into his girlfriends hands before patting her on the shoulder “Whichever card is fine.”

And then you were stumbling towards the entrance, towards the bench right outside.

You hated seeing the future. Why was your friend crying? What had happened to elicit such a reaction? The unknowns killed you, kept you up at night as you tried to puzzle out the events that could lead up to the scenes from your visions.

Not looking where you were going, you tripped on air, unable to catch yourself as you plummeted towards the ground.

But then you were seeing Keigo.

He was above you, face flushed and sweaty, hair tousled, his chest bare. The room was dark, barely lit, and he was so close. The man leaned down to kiss you, then the scene changed.

You were bent over a table, only able to see the solid wood your face was smushed against. There was a heat in your belly, a tingling between your thighs, and pressure. Someone was talking - Keigo, muttering behind you angrily. You head was pulled up, a hand fisted in your hair, and then one of your knees was pushed up onto the table, and the pressure inside exploded into pure pleasure.

You felt yourself screaming, bucking your hips as you suffered through whatever the feeling was.

The scene changed again.

Hands tied above your head, you were pressed against a wall, sitting on some kind of…. Saddle? Your legs couldn’t touch the ground, and you squirmed, before gasping loudly.

There was a nub in the seat, ribbed and textured, slick with some kind of liquid… From you? Then you saw Keigo, standing in front of you, smirking at you with hardened eyes.

He had something in his hand, arms crossed over his chest while he fiddled with the object, muscles flexing. He was shirtless again, and-and his cock was hanging out of his sweatpants, pressed against his belly, smearing precum over his skin.

You tried to say something, anything - the visions never lasted this long, it was too intense, there was so much sensation. But your mouth wouldn’t move, choked up.

Keigo’s hand was on his length, rubbing slowly, saying something that didn’t reach your ears.

The scene changed.

Something was shoved down your throat, warm and twitching. You were sobbing, choking, clawing at whatever was in front of you. A dark laugh filled your ears, and you opened your eyes, met with the clenching abs of a strong stomach.

Keigo was brushing your tears, no, smudging them over your face. Were you wearing makeup? His cock was sitting in your throat, his hips moving in tiny jerks, stabbing your esophagus, making you gag.

Then you were back in the present.

A hand was holding your arm, keeping you from falling and making contact with the hard floor.

“-N)? (Y/N)? Are you okay? Talk to me birdie”

You made a panicked noise, pulling yourself out of Keigo’s grip so fast that you fell flat on the floor, scrambling backwards away from the man.

He almost looked scared, confused as he followed after you, holding out his hands. “(Y/N), you gotta calm down, you’re gonna make yourself sick.”

The man reached for your arm again and you pressed yourself against the floor, screeching out a loud “No!!” before he could touch you. Keigo paused, looking at his hand, then at you. “Hey, hey, I’m not gonna touch you. It’s okay little birdie, you’re alright.” He cooed, sinking to his knees in front of you.

You were hyperventilating, wide eyes trained on Keigo. Your thoughts were swirling in your head, you couldn’t focus, the sensations of the future still echoing through your body.

Keigo crouched there while you steadied your breathing, talking to you the entire time, trying to help you relax and calm down. You weren’t sure what he was saying, something about the weather? Or a dog? But you could feel your breathing evening out, head clearing.

“Hey, she fall?” You friend was carrying two bags, crouching down beside Keigo, cocking her head at you.

Her boyfriend nodded, turning to her and taking one of the bags. “I caught her, but then she freaked out and fell for real.”

Your friend nodded. “I should’ve told you earlier, she has a touch-based quirk. Every time someone touches her, she sees snippets of her future with that person.”

Keigo cocked his own head, gazing at you curiously. “I guess her future with me isn’t too positive then?”

Your friend shrugged. “Eh, she just hates seeing parts of the future. She doesn’t want to know what’s going to happen, makes her worry or something like that. Don’t take it too personally, she’s like that with everyone.”

“It-it-“ you rasped out, causing both sets of eyes to swivel towards you. “-I hate it... because-‘cause I can’t ever cha-change it.” You shivered.

Keigo nodded in understanding, before rising to his feet. “Think you can walk to my car? I’ll drive you two home, I think you’d benefit from some rest.”

He dropped you off at your apartment, and you wearily waved at the couple as they drove off, before heading inside.

----

A week passed, then two.

The visions you had concerning Keigo were plaguing your mind, filling your body with anxiety. There had been a distinctive feel of fear during each one, and despite all the other various sensations felt, the most overwhelming had been distress.

Whatever was going to happen, you weren’t going to like it.

You were holing up in your apartment, ignoring your roommates when they knocked on your door, only leaving your room to eat or grab water. You couldn’t sleep, too scared you’d have dreams, or more accurately, nightmares of what you had seen.

Curse your quirk.

Trying to pass time, desperate to keep your mind off of the future, you threw yourself into any activity you could find.

First you tried coloring - it was supposed to be relaxing, but it gave you too much time to think.

Then you tried gaming, spending hours in front of your computer mashing the keys. That worked for a bit, but your eyes and head soon protested.

You listened to music at full volume, tried several workout videos, even resorted to cleaning your space with fervent energy.

None of it took your mind off the inevitable.

“(Y/N), someone’s at the door asking for you.” You jerked awake, slumped over uncomfortably on the floor, the half finished card tower in front of you promptly knocked over at your erratic movements.

“(Y/N)?” Your roommate called again.

“Yeah! Coming, sorry.” You mumbled, scrubbing sleep from your eyes. You guess your body would give out sometime and force you to fall asleep, but as you moved to stand, you sorely wished your body had chosen a more comfortable place to pass out.

Opening the front door, you immediately took a cautious step back, sleepy demeanor vanishing.

Keigo smiled at you, one hand in the pocket of his jeans, the other holding a bouquet of flowers.

Flowers?

“Hey birdie, mind if I come in?”

You stared at him for a second, immediately on guard. Why did he have flowers? Why did he want to come in? Wasn’t he dating your friend? She didn’t live here, what was he doing here?

The man cleared his throat, raising an eyebrow at you. You moved to the side, holding open the door for Keigo to come inside.

Your roommates were home. If anything happened, they would be within earshot.

Keigo shot you a smile and a thanks, before immediately moving into the small living room, taking a seat on the couch. When he saw you still hovering by the open door, he patted the cushion beside him.

“Come sit, I promise I don’t bite.” He thought for a moment, before grinning. “Well, not unless you want me to.”

Hesitantly, you shut the front door, going to sit in a ratty armchair further away from the winged man. If this bothered him, the man didn’t let it show other than a short pause before he spoke.

“So, I know it probably seems like, super weird for me to show up at your apartment, but hear me out.”

Flowers were shoved in your lap, Keigo taking great care to avoid touching you. “I felt bad about the other day, and my girl and I decided that we should get you some flowers. She picked ‘em out, it even says so on the note.” The man laughed, running a hand through his hair.

“She’s so uptight about this kinda stuff. Anyways, just wanted to say that I’m sorry for grabbing you like that. If I had known, I would’ve let you fall flat on your ass. But I know now, so I’ll be better, cool with you?”

Finishing his little speech, Keigo held out his hands, wings stretching behind him to mimic the gesture.

Looking at the flowers in your lap, you felt your hands shaking. Picking up the little note attached to the bouquet, you found that your friend had indeed picked out the flowers, which made sense. They were your favorites, and in a nice color too. Keigo had left a messy, scrawled “Sorry!” in one corner, before signing by his girlfriends name.

“Um, thank you Keigo, you didn’t have to apologize.” You murmured, rubbing one of the flower petals between your fingers. You were so glad your quirk extended solely to humans - if you were shown glimpses of the future of everything you touched, you would most likely go mad.

“Nah, I wanted to. Also wanted to swing by, check how you’re doing. You been taking care of yourself?” He relaxed on the couch, legs spread, arms resting behind his head. This wasn’t his home, yet you totally could believe that it was by the ease with which he owned the space with his presence.

“Oh, well… I’m still here, so��” You shrugged.

Keigo frowned. “That’s not a fun answer. How much sleep you been gettin’ each night? Eight hours?”

You shook your head, huffing out a breath in place of a laugh.

Keigo clicked his tongue. “No sleep? That’s bad for you y’know. Have you at least been drinking water? Eatin’?”

You nodded quickly, looking up to meet the man’s gaze. “I’m not a kid. I appreciate your concern, but it’s not necessary.”

At this point, you think the best thing for your health would be for the man to leave.

The blonde man stared at you for a moment, before sighing. “Alright, I get it. But I don’t want to hear that you’ve passed out or something, got it? Your friend would kill me.”

He rose to his feet, and so did you, walking him to the door. “Thanks Keigo, and thank you again for the flowers. That was very sweet of you both.”

Keigo beamed, giving a two fingered salute. “You deserve it birdie. Well, have a good rest of your day, yeah? Eat something.”

You smiled, at Keigo as he turned away, beginning to whistle as he strolled down the hall.

Once the door was shut, you found a vase for the flowers, filling it with water and setting it on the table. Your roommates would think it was pretty, and it was, a nice little centerpiece.

That really was nice of your friend and Keigo to offer you flowers.

——

“Welcome to Gold Nile Jewelers, how can I-“ You blinked at the man entering the shop. “-Keigo.”

“Birdie? You work here?” He looked just as confused as you felt, cocking his head to the side as he approached the counter.

You looked around the small display room, nodding your head. “Yep… You looking for anything specific today?”

“Ah, right!” He clasped his hands together, bending over to lean on the display counter as he looked up at you. “So professional (Y/N), it’s just me.” The man chuckled.

“Actually, I thought I’d get my girl a cute little bracelet or something like that, you think she’d like that?”

Knowing your friend, she’d be ecstactic. “Oh, absolutely. Any particular occasion, or just an “I love you gift”?” You asked, already running through the list of bracelets in stock.

“It’s our two month anniversary in another week, thought I’d get her a little sumn’ sumn’, y’know?”

Gold Nile Jewelers was an expensive store. You patted yourself on the back for not dropping your jaw when he said “two month anniversary”. People came here for wedding rings and special occasion jewelry, not monthly anniversaries like some high schoolers.

Well, unless they were rich.

You showed Keigo the selection of bracelets currently available, the man listening quietly to your product descriptions and recommendations, asking questions about the fit and feel, and if you think your friend would like a particular one.

“Honestly Keigo, I could choose one I think she’d like, but it’d be more special if you chose for her.” You finally told him. He wasn’t annoying you, but you felt frustrated with his apparent lack of knowledge about his girlfriend. How did he not know what her favorite color was? “I’d suggest coming back in a few days. Go home, see what kind of jewelry she wears, pay attention to the colors she gravitates towards, if she’s allergic to any metals.”

Keigo tapped his chin. “Hmm, you have a good point. I guess I should pay more attention to those kinds of things.”

You nodded as you began to pack the expensive bracelets back into their display cases. “Gifts for a significant other can be hard. Honestly, it means a lot if they pick it out themselves and surprise you with it. Makes it special.”

“Oh, you have a partner?” Keigo asked, bright eyes watching your hands work.

A frown almost crossed your features, but you stopped it before it could show. “Ah, sorry, that’s not really a work-appropriate question.”

“Awh, c’mon! It’s just me, we’re friends, can’t you tell me?” Keigo pouted, batting his eyelashes at you in an exaggerated, dramatic fashion. The display made you laugh, so you indulged him. After all, he was a friend. No harm in telling him something he was bond to know sooner or later.

“I’m actually single right now. But as a jeweler sale associate, I know how much it means to a person when their partner picks out a gift for them, especially if it’s a surprise.”

Keigo nodded his head solemnly. “That makes sense. I better follow your advice then eh? Find out what she likes-“ he mused “-I can do that.”

“Good luck Keigo!” You called after him as he strolled through the door, waving when he smiled at you, giving that same, goofy two fingered salute that he always did when saying goodbye.

The man unnerved you, the visions you had experienced concerning him making you worry. But as long as he was dating your friend, you felt that you’d be fine.

-----

Keigo showed up again two days later.

“Back so soon?”

“You know me-“ He shook out his umbrella, placing it in the drip-bin by the door, wiping his shoes on the mat. “I always try to be speedy with my work.”

It was grey outside, drizzling slightly. You loved these kinds of days, where you could sit near a window and watch it rain while sipping tea. It was so peaceful and calm, and always soothed your stress.

“Find out anything useful?” Whatever he could tell you would make it easier to refine the jewelry selection for his particular needs.

“So, she doesn’t have any bracelets, and I asked her about why and she said they annoy her. She likes necklaces.” He clarified,. You could tell by the way he puffed up that he felt proud of his detective skills. “I even made a note of the lengths - she likes ones that dip low, which-“ He wolf whistled, and your stomach turned. But it was fine, just awkward.

“Alright, I think we have quite a few like that. Let me collect them for you and lay them out.”

Keigo strolled around the display room while you bustled about, looking in each case at the shiny metals and stones

You laid out the necklaces, calling Keigo over. The man smiled brightly at you as you showed him the selection, noticing he was gravitating towards the more simply, elegant choices.

“I’m sure she would be thrilled with any of these.” You offered, Keigo silent as he tried to decide between two necklaces.

Still, the man shook his head, quirking his lips. “I just…. I need to see them on, y’know?” Then he brightened, as if he had just thought of something. “Hey, can you try them on? Model one for me? Just to see what it’d look like.”

You laughed nervously. “Sorry Keigo, but I’m not allowed to do that, it’s against company policy. Only customers get to try on the jewelry, and that’s if they’re supervised.”

“Awh, c’mon! No one else is here, and I won’t tell.” The man leaned forward, shooting you a quick wink before he snatched up one of the necklaces, holding it out towards you. “Please? I just need to see it. I promise I’ll buy it.”

He was so insistent, and no matter how loud the alarm bells were wringing in your head, you felt cowed by his confidence.

“Um, still… I don’t think it’s allowed-“

“Fuck what’s allowed-“ He cut you off, snorting. “-I want to see what it looks like. It’s just me (Y/N), I’m not gonna snitch.”

A heavy sigh, and you finally agreed, taking the necklace from his nimble fingers. You slung it around your neck, not fastening the back as you held it in place. Hopefully that would be enough to sate Keigo’s curiosity.

His eyes immediately followed the curve of the necklace, how it dipped low towards your cleavage (curse you for wearing a lower-cut shirt today). You tried to ignore the leering.

“Here, let me help you fasten it, doesn’t look right otherwise.”

Before you could protest, he was sliding behind you, deft hands reaching for the necklace your had in your grasp.

“Keigo no-!”

But it was too late.

You were pressed up against a wall, face-first, your hands gathered into the small of your back and held there with a vice-like grip. There was pressure between your legs, something hammering into you, in and out, in and out, in and out.

Keigo was talking to you, you could tell it was the man by his voice. What was he saying? You were too overwhelmed with the sensation between your legs to focus on the words falling from his lips.

Sweat dripped from your temples, Keigo’s chest pressed up against your back was slick with perspiration, his nipples hard and pressing into your skin. It was an uncomfortable situation-

And then it changed.

You were tied up now, tight enough that you couldn’t move no matter how you thrashed. Knees bound in such a way so your ass was up in the air, arms stretched out in front of you, anchored to the headboard of the bed.

Keigo was behind you again - nothing to indicate that the tongue running through your core was his, but somehow, you knew.

You were begging and pleading, withing in your restraints against his tongue, but he wouldn’t let up, he wouldn’t let you crest the mountain that had built up inside. He kept chuckling, the vibrations running through you and making you buck your hips. You felt disgusting.

Then the bed was gone, and Keigo was in front of you. He was sitting in an office chair, your legs straddling his lap. Hands on your hips were dragging you back and forth, grinding you on the hard member protruding from Keigo’s lap. He was flushed, letting out little moans as he kept eye contact with you, smiling and praising you.

Then you were back.

Gasping, you shot away from Keigo, the expensive necklace clattering to the ground as it fell from your hands.

The man froze, confusion etched across his features as he watched you bend over, trying to catch your breath, to calm down, to ignore the lingering sensations from the futuristic visions.

“(Y/N)…”

“I think-I think you should leave.” You heaved, tears building. That had been awful, everything had felt good but you hadn’t. You felt uncomfortable and disrespected and stupid. That couldn’t be your future with Keigo, you wouldn’t be able to handle that. He was your friend’s boyfriend, for goodness sake!

Keigo opened his mouth to say something, but you snapped at him “Leave.”, making the man click his jaw shut.

He walked out the door, shooting you concerned glances the entire way.

You felt better as soon as he was gone, the door clicking shut after him. Thankfully, you were the only employee out front at the moment, and no other customers were present, so no one but you and Keigo had experienced your outburst.

Bending down to pick up the necklace, you inspected it carefully, horrified that you had dropped such an expensive item. It was alright though, so you brought it back to the others, shakily beginning to gather them up to put away.

You didn’t want to see Keigo again.

——-

“I just don’t understand!”

Your friend sobbed, surrounded by tissues on your bed, eyes red and blotchy. You wished you could rub her back, our give her a hug, but you knew what would happen. So you stayed on the floor, passing up tissues and offering wordless sympathy.

“Why would he break up with me? Why?”

You shrugged, looking for words. “I don’t know… I’m sorry that this happened, but if he can’t see how awesome you are, then he’s an idiot.”

She sniffed, blowing her nose. You could tell she wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t say anything further, instead choosing to wipe her eyes.

She had called an hour or so ago, tearful, asking if she could come over. Refused to tell you what was wrong, but the second you let her in, she had burst into tears, explaining everything.

Keigo had broken up with her via text, that asshole.

“I just…. I thought we were good. Did I do something wrong? I just don’t get it.”

“Neither do I. You said he just texted you out of the blue?”

She nodded her head, going to blow her nose again. “We were supposed to go out for dinner tomorrow, it’s our two month anniversary.”

You cringed. Did your encounter with Keigo in the jewelry store have something to do with this? Had you driven your friend’s boyfriend away? Had you weirded him out? Oh god, what if this was all your fault?

Your friend broke down into a sob again, slumping onto your bed. You passed her another tissue. “It’ll be okay. I think he’s a stupid fucker that just wanted to play with your heart. He isn’t worth shit. You deserve so much better than him.”

She nodded, blotchy eyes seeking out your own. In the back of your mind, you cringed, seeing the exact same scene from your vision. Well, at least the two of you hadn’t gotten in a fight.

——-

A few weeks later, Keigo was at your door.

“You need to leave. Now.”

“Aw, c’mon (Y/N), at least hear me out?”

You huffed, crossing your arms. Maybe he had a dumb explanation for why he had dumped your friend. You were wary of him accidentally touching you again though. “Fine, but make it quick.”

“No promises.” He grinned, breezing past you and into your apartment. He beelined for the chair you had sat in last time he was here, leaving you to take a seat on the couch.

“Alright-“ He settled in, fixing you with a gleeful eye. “How do you feel about your quirk?”

Caught off guard, you blinked. Wasn’t he going to explain why he had broken your friend’s heart? “Um, what?”

“Your quirk, y’know, the one that makes you see the future?” He leaned forward, rubbing his hands together with a smile. He seemed far too pleased, and it made you nervous.

“I hate it. If I could get rid of it, I would.” You stated, ready to move onto a different topic. But just as you were about to ask him about your friend, he rose to his feet, fishing in his pockets.

He drew out a bracelet, black and red, thin. “Well then, lookie what I have.” The man walked over, sitting down quickly on the couch next to you, causing you to immediately scoot to the end. You didn’t want him touching you.

“Oh, sorry.” He apologized upon noticing your unease. Instead of scooting closer, he simply tossed the bracelet onto your lap, leaning back as he watched you look at it curiously. “Put it on, see how it fits.”

“I don’t need jewelry Keigo, and I think we should be spending our time discussing why you bro-“

“Just put it on (Y/N), please? I promise you won’t regret it.”

Huffing, you did as he asked, clasping the bracelet around your wrist. It fit snug, almost too tight, but it hugged your wrist comfortingly. It was pretty, but you didn’t see what this had to do with your quirk, or with your friend, or anything that held any relevancy.

Bracelet now on, you fixed Keigo with a blank stare. “Happy?”

“I don’t know.” Keigo grinned. “Are you?” And then he was hugging you, arms wrapped around your shoulders, face buried in your neck.

You shrieked, already panicking as you tried to ready yourself for the onslaught of visions that accompanied physical touch.

They never came.

Choking back a surprised gasp, you drew back from his hug to find Keigo’s eyes, the man smiling down at you as he watched your reaction.

“Kei-Keigo…” You stuttered, shocked, surprised, euphoric, confused - so many emotions, all at once. You couldn’t even think to brush off the hands still around your shoulders, thumbs brushing at the tops of your exposed collarbones by the neck of your shirt.

You weren’t able to think rationally, couldn’t focus on anything but the awe you felt at being touched without being slammed with visions of the future.

You forgot about the terrifying visions you had gotten when Keigo touched you.

You forgot about how he had hurt your friend, broke her heart with no explanation.

You forgot about his hands refusing to leave your body.

“Keigo, this is…. Amazing” You breathed, wide eyes snapping up, catching his smiling face, eyes crinkly and twinkly.

“I had my team modify some quirk-cancelling cuffs! You seemed so upset whenever someone touched you, I couldn’t leave you with such a burden.”

Nodding, you returned your gaze to the bracelet, turning your wrist this way and that to look at the bracelet from different angles.

“I mean, I know how much I like being touched, and touching. I think I’d totally die if I couldn’t.” Keigo chuckled, but you weren’t listening.

The rest of his time sitting next to you on the couch was spent explaining the colors he had spent so long picking (“They’re my personal favorite, aren’t they nice?”) and why he had decided on a bracelet (“It could’ve been a necklace, but I think it looks better in it’s original cuff design, looks cooler that way.”).

By the time he had to leave, you were completely sidetracked, so distracted with your shiny new jewelry that you didn’t even remember to ask what his deal was with being a jerk to your friend, his now ex-girlfriend.

-----

“-and then he gave me the bracelet. I wasn’t thinking much after that, I just… I can hug you, isn’t that incredible?”

You gave your friend another squeeze, feeling a smile dance across your face. But then you sobered, pulling back from her with your hands on her shoulders, quickly becoming serious.

“But he’s really starting to kind of weird me out. Why won’t he explain why he broke up with you? He’s being a little bitch. I tried asking him a couple times, but he kept cutting me off, and I feel like the bracelet was a distraction to stop me from busting his chops about his behavior towards you.”

Your friend looked sad for a second, before shrugging. “I dunno, he just said things weren’t working out, and that while he liked me, he’s not ready for a relationship right now ‘cause of where he’s at in his life.”

“Psh-“ You scoffed, going in for another comforting squeeze for your friend. “-that’s code for “I’m a fuckboy and want to sleep around”.”

“I know….. But it still hurts.” You friend sighed, wrapping her arms around your neck. “But at least he gave you that quirk thing. I’ve never seen you so happy.”

“I just wish he was a mildly decent person.” You grumbled, detaching from the hug to sit back, glaring at the ceiling. “He gives me the fucking creeps.”

“How so?” You friend locked her head to the side, throwing her arm over the back of the couch. You had called her over the second Keigo had left, finally gathering your wits about you.

“I dunno…” You shrugged, not quite ready to tell her about the disturbing visions containing him. Did that have something to do with their breakup? Was it your fault? What was going to happen with Keigo? It honestly scared you, the residual feelings and sensations you could remember from the visions.

Your friend nodded understandingly. “Some people just give off those vibes. Well, at least we don’t ever have to see him again. Good riddance I say.”

You agreed.

——-

Knocking on the door, you shuffled your feet as you took in the house.

It was one of those rich places - nice neighborhood, fancy street filled with lavish houses, expensive cars. You felt slightly out of place, shifting from foot to foot in your clearance-rack clothes.

The door swung open, revealing a sleepy Keigo, shirtless, clad in nothing but sweatpants.

“Oh, um-“ You quickly turned, averting your eyes, trying to give the man privacy in case he hadn’t realized he was shirtless. It looked like he had just woken up from a nap, eyes blinking owlishly, hair mussed.

“Hey (Y/N), come on in.”

Still keeping your eyes turned away, you stepped inside the opulent house, trying not to gape too much at the decor inside. You didn’t want to look like a complete peasant in front of Keigo, but he’d already been to your house, so you could imagine that he knew of your poor-ness.

“Something wrong? You can look at me y’know, I’m not gonna turn you to stone or something.” Keigo joked, voice entirely too close for comfort.

Head whipping around, you found that he was too close, practically almost touching you as he stood beside you, head cocked as he watched you.

“No… nothings wrong, you’re just…” You gestured to his torso, and Keigo looked down in confusion, before looking back at you, a grin on his face.

“Ah, just woke up.” He shrugged, before reaching out to touch your arm. “Bracelet still keeping that quirk at bay?”

You nodding, following the blonde as he turned and walked further into his house, towards the kitchen.

“Glad to hear! I just wanted to look at it a bit, make sure nothing’s worn or torn, y’know? Hate for you to have to deal with the no-touching thing again.” He said over his shoulder, gesturing for you to sit down at the island, on one of the barstools.

You did so, watching the man open his fridge, take out a carton of milk, uncap it. “Is it too tight?”

“Nope.”

He drank right out of the bottle, and you watched some dribble out of the corner of his mouth, down his chin. The man finished gulping down the milk, taking the bottle away from his lips to swipe at the white trail of liquid rolling down his chin.

Eyes dark, he made contact with your own eyes as he cleaned his chin with a finger, stuffing it in his mouth to suck it clean.

That was gross.

The next second, he was back to normal, cheerfully putting the milk back into the fridge. “Good, good. Now, mind if I take a look at it? You should keep it on though.”

You nodded, and Keigo straightened, walking around the island to sit next to you, shuffling his stool closer.

He grabbed your wrist, laying it out on the island, before beginning to poke at the bracelet, running his fingers over it, fiddling with it, squeezing the tendons in your hand, smoothing his hand up your arm.

It felt a bit intrusive.

“So the visions are all blocked?”

“Yep.”

“And you can touch and be touched?”

“Yeah.”

“How’s your appetite? Sometimes complete quirk suppression can make you lose your appetite.”

“It’s been normal, I guess I’m a little hungrier than normal, but I’ve been getting out more too, not as afraid of crowds.”

“Nice! And how about your libido?”

You spluttered, choking on your own spit, snatching your hand away from Keigo’s wandering touches.

“Excuse me? That’s a bit personal, thanks.”

Keigo shrugged, bright eyes hooded and lazy. “It’s just a question.”

“Are you done making sure it’s all good? No broken parts?” You changed the subject, narrowing your eyes. You can’t believe your friend had ever dated him, that you had ever thought he was anything but a playboy.

You wouldn’t even be here, in his house, but he had come into the jewelers a while back (both you and your friend had blocked his number), spouting something about your bracelet needing constant checks and maintenance in order to keep suppressing your quirk. (“Wouldn’t want it to stop working, right? Just stop by sometimes, here’s my address.”).

So here you were.

Keigo leaned back a little, raising an eyebrow at your irritated tone of voice. “Woah there, don’t get snippy. I’m doing you a favor, right? I’m not trying to hurt you or something.”

Technically, you guess he was right. But he had played your friend, had fucked with her feelings. He was a fuckboy, liked messing with each and every girl he could find, and you didn’t care to be one of them.

“And I appreciate that Keigo. But I like to keep my private life private.”

Keigo was silent, simply holding out a hand for you to place your arm in, so he could fiddle more with the bracelet.

Several moments of awkward silence passed before he spoke again. “You’re being awfully ungrateful. It makes me think you don’t even want this little gift. If I were you, I’d be doing everything I could to show the person kind enough to do such a thing for me how thankful I was.”

Lost for words, you stared at the man. Was he expecting some sort of award? Some sort of prize? It’s not like you had anything to give him.

“I don’t have anything to give you in thanks. Just my words, which I’ve said plenty of. I didn’t ask you to make this for me.” You pointed out.

“Sure, but you use it, don’t you? You wouldn’t like it if I took it away, right? Think about how miserable your life was before I gave you this.”

Your life had been miserable. Afraid to go out in crowds, afraid to leave the house, Nervous about grocery shopping, about paying and having the cashier touch your hand as they handed over the change.

Scared of public transportation, of coffeeshops and bookstores, of public parks, even your own home. What if one of your roommates forgot and touched you? Or accidentally bumped into you?

Plus, you could hug now, and shake hands, and slap your friends back when she told a horrible joke, or tap her when you wanted her attention.

You didn’t want to go back to before. “I’m sorry Keigo… I really do think it’s lovely, and I can never thank you enough for doing this for me.”

Keigo let go of your arm, and it swung back to your side. You could feel the man looking at you.

“You know what would let me know that you mean it?”

God, it better not be something sexual.

“You could buy me coffee. Or maybe a cookie from that bakery on 1st Avenue, you know the one? With the little bunny pastries?”

That surprised you.

“You go there? That’s my favorite place.” You mused, looking at Keigo in surprise. He didn’t seem the kind of guy who’d like a place like that. But appearances could be deceiving.

“Of course! I really like their stuff.”

“Alright,” You conceded, rising to your feet. “I’ll get you some stuff from there. Want it today?”

Keigo rose to his feet as well, crossing his arms over his bare chest. “Yeah! Let me get dressed real quick, and then I’ll go with you. Don’t go anywhere birdie.” He shot you a wink, before sauntering past you, out of the kitchen. You raised a brow, surprised. He meant to go with you?

“Make yourself at home while you wait, don’t be afraid to kick up your feet!”

——-

The bakery smelled as lovely as usual.

A warm atmosphere, good food, friendly employees. It was your favorite place for a reason.

“Alright, what do you want?” You asked Keigo, the two of you staring up at the menu.

“Hmm, I don’t know. What are you going to get?”

“Probably a muffin, those are my favorite.”

“What!?! That’s my favorite too! How crazy.” Keigo smiled at you, dimples showing. You got the feeling that he was brown-nosing you, but you kept the thought to yourself, striding up to the counter to order.

Muffins purchased, you approached Keigo, who was lounging by one of the display cases, admiring the delicate, mouthwatering masterpieces held within.

“All good to go?” His smile was so charming, so friendly, you almost caught yourself wanting to see it more. Huffing in irritation at yourself, you pushed past him, shoving the bag with his muffin into his chest.

“Here’s your stuff. I’m going home now, see you around.”

“Wait!” Keigo turned, jogging a little to catch up as you exited the bakery. “We gotta eat these before they get cold - hey, birdie, are you listening to me?“

You weren’t, stoically keeping your head turned forward, walking with determination. There was only so much of Keigo that you could tolerate, and you had reached your limit. He was starting to really annoy you, didn’t he get that you wanted to go home? You’ll just eat your muffin on the subway, it’s not that hard.

“(Y/N)-“ His sudden growl was punctuated by an arm on your shoulder, spinning you around and pulling you towards the man.

“Hey-!” The sudden collision of your face with his chest knocked your breath away, almost causing you to drop your own muffin in the process.

When you managed to gather yourself, you shot a glare up at Keigo’s face, only to find the blonde smirking down at you, a fierce glint in his eyes.

“I expect you to listen when I’m talking, got it? I don’t like being ignored.”

That’s evident.

You tried to back away, but he still had a hand on your shoulder, squeezing you tight to him. “Keigo! Let me go, you stupid idiot-“

“Stop it, I’m not doing anything to you, ya big baby.” He cooed down at you, before taking his hand away, letting you stumble backwards.

He was just messing with you, teasing you. It was obvious, yet still you allowed him to be around you.

“Alright, I’m sorry, I know all the touching’s gotta be new still. Wanna go eat these in the park? I’ll buy you some ice cream if you want.”

“I don’t want ice cream, I want to go home.”

Keigo frowned, walking after you when you turned on your heel, heading for the subway. “Why do you dislike me so much? I’ve done so much to help you, and yet you spit in my face. Your parents ever teach you how to be grateful? Or even respectful?”

You gasped at his accusation, stopping in your tracks to whirl around, only to find the man far closer than what you had expected. Still, you tried to hide your surprise at his proximity, jabbing a finger in his direction.

“You are a playboy, you broke my friend’s heart, and you want to sleep with every single person you come across just to mess with their feelings. I don’t want to be around you. I won’t get dragged into that.”

The man watched you, face solemn and contemplative. “Is that really how you see me?”

“Why would I say any of that unless it was true?”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking up and around, as if gathering his bearings, before back down at you.

“Have you ever considered that I’m the one getting my heart broken?”

“Yeah right-“ You scoffed, only for Keigo to cut you off.

“People want to sleep with me because they think it’ll get them something that they want. Fifteen second fame, a piece in a tabloid about my “new lover”…. Think it’ll help them further their career, or that I’ll give them money. I can’t find anyone real.

“And my friend wasn’t real enough for you?” You spat, not believing him for a second.

“Nope. You think she liked me for who I am?”

“Uh, yeah? She gushed to me all the damn time about how good you were, how she felt about you. That girl held nothing but love and affection for you.”

The man snorted, rolling his eyes. “Yeah, sure, love for my wallet.”

“She’s not like that.” You argued, brows furrowing.

“Really? Cause she was sucking me dry, and not even in a sexy way.”

You crinkled your nose at what he was implying. Your friend wasn’t like that, she truly had felt for Keigo, had liked him as her boyfriend. She wasn’t just a leech.

“I’m done talking about my failed love life.” Keigo said lowly, nudging your shoulder. “I just thought two friends could hangout, but it seems like you think all I do is try and fuck people.”

“No, Kiego…. That’s not what I meant.” Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t, but right now…. You almost felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

Some of what he was saying made sense, how people would try and use him for various reasons. But that still didn’t explain his sudden and harsh breakup with your friend. And over text no less, a complete douche move!

But you felt bad about his words, about how he seemed to actually want to hangout, and yet you were accusing him of trying to sleep with you. But what about those visions you had had? Was that even how they went? Or were you remembering falsely based on your bias towards the man?

And what about his suggestive touches, his leering gaze? Was that maybe just how he always was, and it wasn’t exclusive to you? Were you inflating your place in his life, thinking that he wanted you?

It was confusing, and you didn’t want to think about it, try and untangle the lies from the truth. Right now, you just wanted to eat your muffin.

“If you really didn’t mean it, then can we go eat these in the park? I just want to chill with someone that isn’t trying to gain something from me. I want to spend time with someone that’s real.”

With a half-irritated sigh, you nodded, hoping you wouldn’t regret hanging out with the obnoxious man.

-----

He kept calling you, texting you. You’d had to unblock his number at some point, in order for him to text you about the bracelet and when he needed to look at it.

“Come overrrrr, I’m bored!”

“Birdie, are you hungry? The delivery place gave me extra Torikatsu and I don’t want it to go bad. Can I come drop it off?”

He’d swing by the jewelers, leaning over the counter to talk to you about a recent shoot he’d booked, or something he saw recently.

Keigo seemed to slowly insert himself into every facet of your live, against your will, ignoring every subtle, irritated attempt of yours to turn him away. Every single time you saw him, your mind would inevitably think of the visions, but you felt like you couldn’t trust yourself with those anymore.

The man assured you at every step, he had no romantic feelings for you, he just wanted a friend, someone to put him in his place, be honest with him.

You definitely were honest.

Snapping at him when he showed up at your apartment uninvited, coming up behind you on the street and grabbing your sides, laughing when you shrieked and tried to hit your attacker, only to realize it was Keigo.

Tearing into him when he tried to talk badly about your friend - she had been having less and less contact with you, and you couldn’t figure out why. Now your relationship with her was reduced to curt text messages. Maybe she was just going through a hard time, and wanted alone time? Still, you let her know you were there for her, whenever she needed.

You were honest when Keigo asked your opinion on food, TV shows, clothes, movies. It was almost satisfying saying something sucked, just to see Keigo’s face fall slightly, before he shook his head, whining.

“Then help me pick something out! I can’t do it without you-“

He totally could, he was just being a baby.

The more he inserted himself into your life, the more you realized that he was akin to a petulant child, just with muscles and a penchant for inappropriate touching.

Whenever he saw you, he’d try to draw you into a hug, letting his hands drop far down your back, way too low for you to feel comfortable. You’d slap them away, and Keigo would laugh, before ruffling your hair.

He’d have you come over so he could check your quirk suppressor, except he was in the middle of a show, and it was getting to the best part. (“Sit down, shhh, it’s just getting good!”) You’d have to sit through the entire thing, enduring Kiego’s hand lazily drawing shapes over your pants on your thigh, simply putting it back whenever you shoved it off.

He was insufferable, irritating to no end, but you could tell he was a lonely man, bitter about his love life and with his friendships.

So you tolerated his presence.

After all, he wasn’t trying to hurt you. That’s something he reiterated every single time you shied away from his touch. He made you feel like a fool for thinking the man was hitting on you, when he made it so clear that he wasn’t, only interested in friendship.

Until you fell asleep at his house.

Another one of those days were he needed to look at your quirk suppressor (which you were 99% sure was fine, it seemed like he just enjoyed seeing it on your wrist). He had been rummaging around in his room before he had to run and open the front door for you, talking as he walked back to return to his previous task.

Apparently he was trying to find a good shirt, seeing as how he had pants on, but his chest was bare. Keigo instructed you to sit on the bed for a second while he retreated into his massive closet, trying to find a good shirt to go with the rest of his outfit.

His bedroom was pretty large, a full California King taking up the majority of the space, neatly made. The sheets and blankets felt soft beneath your fingers as you sat on it’s edge, prepared to wait for Keigo for a bit.

The man always took his fashion very seriously - one time he’d even spent two hours trying on clothes until he’d decided on an appropriate outfit to go to the park.

So you followed your tired eyes, exhausted from work and dealing with Keigo, worrying about your friend, daily life stressors and the like. Keigo wouldn’t mind if you laid back, right? Your feet wouldn’t be on the bed, so it’d be fine.

And it was fine, pleasant, the room the perfect temperature.

You were roughly jerked out of sleep by pressure. Pressure on your hips, pressure on your lips.

Eyes jolting open, you tried to inhale, only to find yourself unsuccessful.

Keigo was on top of you.

Panicking, your hands came to push at him, a muffled sound of protest being squeaked out from where his lips pressed against yours.

Noticing you were awake, Keigo pulled back, smiling the whole while.

“I’m not willing to wait anymore, I just gotta have you.”

His eyes were glinting, hair tousled, still shirtless. You felt goosebumps arise as you remembered the vision you had so long ago, of this exact moment.

“Wai-mmph!” His lips were on yours again, passionate and warm, moving eagerly. A wet tongue pressed at the seam of your mouth, surprising you and making you blanch, which allowed the man access.

Kiego’s tongue explored the inside of your mouth, playfully tapping your own wet muscle, encouraging you to lift it and wrestle with him.

This was too weird, this wasn’t happening, you couldn’t do this-

Biting down hard, you snapped your teeth shut on his tongue, and Keigo yelped, drawing back immediately.

“Ouch, what the fuck!?! Chill out (Y/N), geez.” His hand was dabbing at his mouth, wincing when it came in contact with his bleeding tongue. You had bitten him deep, but you weren’t focused on that right now.

“What are-what are you doing?” Your voice was breathless, disoriented. The room felt…. Dark, and suffocating, as if it was closing in on the two of you, trapping you.

Keigo looked down at you, and it was only then that you realized you had been moved to lie on the bed fully, shoes off, legs splayed. The man rested on his stomach between them, his weight pressed against your body, keeping you still.

“I told you, I can’t wait anymore. I’ve been as nice as I can, but it’s time you started paying me back for everything I’ve done for you.”

What? Paying him back-was he talking about the quirk suppressor he had gifted you? Had he been lying about his true intentions this whole time?

“That’s not right, it was a gift, you-you don’t have to pay back a gift.” You spluttered, feeling as if your chest was collapsing.

Keigo shook his head, swooping down to leave a bloody kiss on your forehead, which you cringed at, before pulling back to speak.

“Nah, it wasn’t a gift. You know how expensive it was? You were always gonna have to compensate me. Now shush, I wanna feel you-“

One of his hands grabbed your jaw, keeping your face turned towards his, pressing down until tears formed in your eyes. His lips were bloody from the bite on his tongue, tasting unmistakably like iron.

You didn’t want this.

Trying to bite him again left you with a slap to your thigh, making you cry out. Keigo huffed out a laugh against your mouth.

He detached from your lips, just to start nibbling at your jawline, elating streaks of red where his lips touched.

“God, you are so sexy. I was trying to chill, but then I came out and you were sleepin’ all cute, and I couldn’t fucking stop myself from touching.”

“Stop doing this, I can pay you with something different. I don’t wanna do this Keigo.” You whispered, on the verge of crying.

“No, I get to decide what you’ll be doing for me, it’s my bracelet-“

“It’s not, you gave it to me, please stop-“

“Shut up.” He growled sinking his teeth into the side of your neck, nipping at the skin hard enough to have you screaming. “You’re so ungrateful, where’s my thanks? I’ve done so much for you.”

“Thank you, thank you Keigo, I appreciate it all-“ You hurried out, hoping it was what he wanted to hear “But I can’t do this, please don’t make me. I wanna go home.”

“There we go, I like the sound of you thanking me. You’re going to thank me for each and every time you cum tonight, got it?”

“No, no, we can’t do this, I can’t! Get off of me, please-“

“You’ll do it, or else I’ll whip you until your flesh hangs off of you in strings.” He hissed, squeezing your jaw cruelly.

The tears in your eyes overflowed as you fell silent.

“Aw, birdie, don’t cry. I’m not gonna hurt you, I never have, right?” He waited for a second, watching your face before he pressed harder, eyes hardening “Right?“

You nodded jerkily, and Keigo came to kiss your tears away, savoring their salty taste as they rolled down your cheeks.

“Keigo, this isn’t right though, please get off me. I don’t want this-“

“You want me to take this away?” A hand caught your shaking wrist, the one that had the quirk suppressor fastened snugly around it, wrenching it up so both of you could see it. “Huh? Put you back where you were in your miserable little life? Running away from everyone, holing up in your apartment, not willing to touch or be touched…”

The very thought made your insides churn, and a fresh round of tears rolled down your face as you shook your head no, lips wobbling as you whined. You felt so pathetic, so small and dumb underneath Keigo.

“That’s what I thought. You’re going to relax now, right? No more begging unless it’s for more.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, beginning to shuffle around until he could slide his hands under your shirt, pressing against your tummy as you flinched away.

“Don’t worry birdie, you’re gonna like every single thing we’re gonna do. You’ve had sex now, yeah? Since I gave you the bracelet?”

You shook your head “no”, it’s not like you were eager for sex before you got it, and all the touching-without-terrifying-visions thing was still new to you, the dating world was being eased into. Somehow though, every single date seemed to be crashed by the man on top of you.

Keigo lit up like a Christmas tree, licking his lips gleefully. “Okay, okay, I can-whew, that’s hot-I can be gentle.” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince you, his hands skirting up your ribs, shucking up your shirt as the traveled higher and higher.

“Keigo please-“

“Don’t you dare say stop, I’m not gonna. You’re the first person that doesn’t want anything from me, you’re real, and I’m not stopping.”

His admission made you cringe, recoiling from his touch. He followed you, palms finally smoothing over your breasts, over your bra.

“You’re going to do what I say, or else this-“ Your wrist was wrenched into view, red-and-black bracelet glittering. “-gets removed. And I’ll still do whatever the fuck I want, but you’ll be off in your mind having visions of who-knows-what while I have my way. Got it?”

Your blood chilled, body suddenly feeling ice cold. His tone was dead serious, spitting out the words with a sense of finality.

“So, just lay there and take it birdie, I’ll be good to you.”

#yandere keigo takami #keigo x reader #Keigo Takami #yandere takami keigo #takami keigo #takami keigo x reader #Yandere bnha #yandere #tw.dubcon #tw.noncon #tw.somno #tw dubcon #creepy keigo

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jeogiyall · 4 years ago

Text

Growing Pains; Song Mingi

Word count; 21.5k

Genre; Mingi X Reader, Hongjoong X Reader, Childhood Best Friends to Lovers, College AU, Angst, Fluff but Barely

Request: “ hey can I please request a college au with #11 and #17 with mingi from ateez! can it also be long and really angsty but with a comforting ending?? love your work by the way ❤ “

Additional; Featured Ateez, Rebound Hongjoong

Warnings; General Angst, Depicts Depression, Honestly Just Really Sad lol

A/N; this took me so freaking long to write, i’m really sorry to whoever requested it dhkdsfsdaf!! i hope you enjoy it! i haven’t been to college yet so this is all based off of books i’ve read or stories that i’ve been told. if anything is inaccurate i’m sorry, i’ll be learning about really soon lol. if you you like this fic please leave a like or some kind words! love you all, happy reading!

It was a summer day when the local neighborhood bullies pushed you off of your barbie themed bike for the umpteenth time. You remember scraping your knee, dropping your strawberry ice cream cone, then seeing the older boys approach you with malicious grins. But before they could fully reach you there was someone else, someone with limbs that were a bit too long and knees that were raw like yours. Any other day you would’ve found it unbelievably embarrassing that this bozo thinks he can handle this situation any better than you. As if you haven’t been handling this for years.

But with him it was different. He somehow scared off the crude boys, then offered his hand to hoist you from the pavement while looking sadly at your discarded ice cream cone.

“I’m sorry about your ice cream.” You remember his voice being creaky, like it was always about to break (which it did, frequently,) “I’ll make you some whenever it snows! Th-that’s the only way that I know how to make it, but it’s really good I promise!” He was excited, almost like a puppy. Some part of you thought that it was cute, the bigger part knew he was probably just pitying you. Pitying you the same way that everyone does when you tell them of your constant bullying, only to forget about it in a week and leave you to the wolves.

“Oh it’s okay, um…”

“Mingi.”

“Mingi!” You repeated the syllables, allowing their taste to form on your tongue. It’s sweet, like an orange soda and going to bed too late, “It’s okay Mingi, you don’t have to pretend like it matters.” Where you thought that his features would fade into relief they pull taught with sadness. He almost looked offended.

“You’re (Y/n,) right?” You nod shortly, eyes welling with tears for no apparent reason, “I-I’m not pretending. It matters.” Something about the way he gazes at you makes you think he’s been wanting to say that for a long time.

“N-not really, they’re just mean sometimes. Besides, even if it did matter no one can stop it. No one’s ever stopped it.” It felt like you’d crossed a line. Cut the cake before you were supposed to, put out words you were meant to swallow down. Tears were really about to start falling, until Mingi took your skinned palms into his own larger ones. The clench of familiarity in your chest is enough to snuff out the stinging.

“I’ll stop it. I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.” He rubbed his thumb over the top of your hand, and it felt so nice. The gentle touch of someone who could be a friend. The notion that someone wanted you. It felt so nice and foreign and familiar all at once. So you nodded.

“Okay.” He squeezed your hand excitedly then surged forward, but stopped just before his arms could take home on your shoulders. You notice that he smells nice, like oranges and cinnamon.

“Can I hug you?” And just like that he’s made his way into the walls that you’ve already managed to build up.

“Okay.”

The boy holds true to his promise when two weeks later the boys approach you in the hallway, all cheery smiles and cold eyes. It’s a common exchange, they show up and tell you that you look nice today or some other fake compliment before demanding that you give them all of your lunch money. Which sounds stupid, until it’s two in the afternoon and you haven’t eaten all day and you won’t get to for another half hour.

But before anything can happen, Mingi is at your side and talking about his advanced math class. You watch as the boys slowly disperse at your friends silly rambling until it’s just the two of you. A deep breath floods your lungs as he softly punches your bicep in a way that’s starting to feel normal.

“Told you so. Do you want to come over for ice cream after school?” It’s silly how the words fill you with warmth, but you don’t even care. Because what you have here is so secure, and you know that it always will be.

And it always is. Mingi’s friendship is solid throughout your entire life, even when you started high school and nearly everything was shaky. Even when he grew out of the awkward limbs and squeaky voice, and all of the girls at your school wanted his attention. Day after day, Mingi would reject their proposals with a simple “I’m busy,” when the truth of the matter was that he would be sitting with you. Alone. In his basement, watching Star Wars on VHS tapes while eating strawberry ice cream and popcorn.

You remember turning to him one night, eyes drinking in the sight of his side profile illuminated by an exploding death star. He smiled widely, clapping his hands the way that he always does at that part. A deep sigh resounded through your chest, causing the boy to look at you with furrowed brows. For what must have been the millionth time, your eyes locked with his. Words weren’t even necessary for comfort.

“Why did you want to be friends with me? No one has ever cared about me too much, so why did you? I didn’t have anyone, why did you want to be my someone?” Your question sounds small, voice wavering gently.

“Maybe I needed someone too.” The response was so quick. Like he had pondered it before. As if he knew every doubt that you were having, and knew that you didn’t need to have them.

From that night on, Mingi was more than your best friend. More than someone who you spent everyday with. No, he became your partner in almost everything. He took you to the school dance, stood beside you at every sports game, spent long nights trying to decipher math problems. No one was surprised when you two started applying to the same colleges, you weren’t even sure that you’d survive living without him. Judging by the pattering of his heart each time you entered a room, Mingi thought so too.

Over the years of close proximity and healthy doses of codependency, Mingi’s feelings towards you had progressed slightly past friendship. Not that he didn’t still think of you in that way, obviously. It’s just that whenever you fell asleep on his chest halfway through star wars marathons he’d have to will his heart to beat a tiny bit slower, or when his family brought you along to the beach he had to remind himself that it was rude to stare. The shift in his feelings started about three months into your sophomore year together, while stuffing your face with greasy fast food burgers after a wildly unimpressive football game. Neither of you ever cared about school sports too much, yet you were present every single week. When Mingi asked why, you claimed it was to get him out of the house. He’s pretty sure it was so that you’d have an excuse to get burgers afterwards, though.

The boy distinctly remembers looking up over his boat of fries to see you with full cheeks, one strand of hair sticking to your slightly sweaty forehead. He remembers the bustling sounds of the diner going silent as his eyes drank in the sight of you for what felt like the first time ever. He remembers thinking that he wouldn’t know how to live life if it weren’t for you. Thinking that life wouldn’t be worth living if it weren’t for you.

“What?” You had questioned, nearly spitting out bits of cheeseburger onto your friends fries. If Mingi wasn’t so infatuated in that moment, he would have been disgusted.

“You’re gross.” He laughed, one hand moving to nudge your shoulder. From that moment on, Mingi thought of you as just a little bit more than a friend. Just a little bit more than a movie marathon partner, just a little bit more than someone to spend late nights with. A little bit more than someone who helped move you into a college dorm, too.

“Who on this forsaken earth thought that loft beds were a good idea?” You heave, flinging yourself onto the elevated mattress. It’s far from comfortable, and you’ve had to carry countless boxes up two flights of stairs due to the lack of an elevator, and the hallway smells distinctly of burnt microwave popcorn, but you have never in your life felt more free. High school was absolute torture, and while you did have Mingi to lean on you were still terribly lonely for those four years. Every other girl had a group to sit with, or someone to drag along to the bathroom with them in the middle of class. Having only one friend typically meant having absolutely no classes with them.

But you’re here now, hundreds of miles away from the tattered building where you used to go to school. The only person on the entire campus that even knows your name at this point is Mingi, which in turn means he’s the only person that knows about your habit of loneliness. You intend to keep it that way, too. Every shy kid hears it from their parents, ‘College will be so good for you,’ ‘You’re really gonna come out of your shell in college,’ but those words meant more to you than an empty promise. In the last few months when you were so terribly lonely that all you had was Mingi and writing until your fingertips fell off, those words were your lifeline.

“Probably someone that didn’t get enough hugs as a kid.” Your friend responds while dropping the final box, which is filled with nothing but fuzzy sock, onto the pile that’s accumulating on the desk that’s squeezed under your cursed bed, “Looks like the last of it.” You nod, cheek brushing gently against the uncovered mattress. It creaks loudly when you shift, which is something you’re sure that you’ll never get used to.

“Are you sure that you don’t want help unpacking?” You barely look up while asking the question, nuzzling even closer into the awful bed. It takes a certain level of shamelessness to sleep on a fully uncovered mattress while a random stranger could walk in and drop all of their stuff on the floor, but you swear to the stars that you’re about there. Mingi appears to be the same way, taking to resting against your yet-to-arrive roommates desk.

“Yea I’m sure, my roommate’s this absolute giant, Yunho I think? He promised to help, so I’m all good.” A hollow laugh leaves your throat, aching with sleepiness. Mingi’s eyes soften ever so slightly before casting to your dirty tile floor.

“Sounds nice.” There’s a nod, then a groan, then shuffling on everyone's part before Mingi is standing in your doorway and casting a soft gaze to your sleepy form.

“I’ll see you at dinner tonight.” A low humph resounds as your answer, but Mingi knows there’s no weight. You’re going to lay on that loft bed, sleeping like a rock until someone bothers to wake you up.

The someone just so happens to be Mingi, five hours later in a fresh hoodie that has your universities name embroidered across the chest. First you notice the perfectly made bed across the room, then the lack of another girl, then the scrent of oranges mixed with cinnamon, then finally Mingi nudging your shoulder from the ground while holding a Styrofoam bowl of hot food.

“D-did I miss dinner?” Your eyes squint harshly, the way they always do when someone’s just woken you up.

“Yea.”

“Sorry.” Mingis heart clenches tightly at your slurred speech, then again at your fluttering eyelids.

“S’okay, I brought you food.” His voice sounds warm, low. Like the Mingi that you’ve always known. You sit up and accept the to go bowl he’s passing up before patting the empty spot next to you. Within seconds the boy is next to you and offering utensils along with his arm around your shoulder, “It’s ramen.”

“Really?” The boy nods, fluffy brown hair falling onto his forehead as you excitedly rip the lid off. The smell of spicy ramen wafts through your otherwise empty dorm, and while it’s not the same as what Mingis mom would make from scratch on Winter days it still fills your belly with an immeasurable warmth, “Have I ever mentioned that you’re my favorite person?” Your shoulders relax thanks to a mouthful of slick curly noodles, Mingi can feel each individual muscle give way beneath his touch.

“Once or twice.”

The two of you spend that night curled up on your bed sharing bites of the warm soup, and even once it’s done and the bowl is disposed of it still feels like old times. His arm is resting around you, the conversation is happening effortlessly, laughter is bouncing from every last tile. It doesn’t exactly fit in with your ‘new school, new me’ narrative, but that’s okay. You can always spend one night in comfort seeing as the following nights will be spent doing thousands of things out of your comfort zone.

When the time comes for him to walk back to his own dorm building, it’s well past dark outside, your clock ticking dangerously close to midnight from its perch on the (useless) nightstand. The boy hugs you in the doorway, making you pinky promise to not sleep through lunch tomorrow.

“I won’t, I promise! Please don’t tell me that I left you sitting alone!” He exhales a short laugh at your furrowing eyebrows, his hand taking home on your shoulder in an attempt to squeeze out your tension.

“Not at all, Yunho has like a ton of friends. They’re funny, too.”

“Really?” Mingi squeezes your shoulder one last before nodding.

“Really.”

He walks home in silence, the beginnings of an Autumn breeze kissing his cheeks. Upon arriving at the dorm Yunho spins around in his desk chair, smirking at the younger boy as if he knows something that Mingi doesn’t.

“Where’d you go after dinner? We were gonna invite you to Wooyoung and Sans apartment.” Yunho leans back in the chair, it’s legs teetering precariously in a way that would debilitate elementary teachers.

“Oh, thanks! Maybe next time, I had to check on a friend.” Yunho quirks an eyebrow as Mingi begins to climb into his bed, kicking his shoes off at the base of the wobbly ladder.

“A girlfriend?” The question should be shocking, Yunho doesn’t even know that you exist for crying out loud, but he is so used to it. After being your best friend and caring for you as deeply as he does, he is so used to it.

“Nope, why do you ask.” The older boy simply shrugs, grounding his chair and picking up a stubby pencil.

“Just an inkling. Lots of girls came up to you in line, you seemed less than interested.” Mingi ponders his response, because what do you even say to that? He doesn’t have a girlfriend, he’s not interested in anyone, he only has you to worry about. You, with your laugh that defines his childhood. You, with eyes that shoot wide anytime you’re worried about accidentally offending someone. You, who wants to make a new person in the coming year; and you, who Mingi wants to convince that you don’t have to change.

“Nope, she’s just a friend.” He decides, the words falling flat in the cramped room.

“Whatever you say.”

Mingi lays sleeplessly in his bed for hours, his head pounding with the thought of how hard your connection with him is becoming. He loves you in more ways than one, but he doesn’t love the ache in his chest whenever he has to leave you. He doesn’t love that way that the weight of your touch haunts him for days, when for you it’s probably just something easy and meaningless. He doesn’t love being less to you than you are to him.

But he does love you, in a way that’s impenetrable and everlasting. That alone is almost enough to make everything worthwhile. Almost.

It turns out the whole ‘new school new me’ thing is much harder than you previously anticipated. Naïve senior you thought that maybe you could meet new people through your roommate, but that didn’t exactly work out. It’s been two weeks and all you know about her is that she’s a junior, and that she really doesn’t want to be staying in a dorm.

So, that’s obviously not going the way that you’d hoped. There is another person though, and he’s been a great help in meeting new people. He is a roommate, ironically enough. Just not your own.

Jeong Yunho, sophomore, fading blue hair, cheeks that look like freshly baked bread, brown eyes that sparkle a little bit when you ask about his major (biology, which is something that you know far too much about after a brief stop by Mingis dorm,) and a head that hits damn near every doorway it passes through. He has to duck to get into the cafeteria. But he’s sweet, like the guy who you could ask for help with homework. And he has so many friends, who are all terribly boisterous, that just eating lunch is like going out of your comfort zone.

Which is enough for you, but apparently not Mingi.

It’s a classic Friday night marathon, you already cuddled up on your bed with Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire pulled up on your laptop. The only thing left to accomplish is getting Mingi next to you and watching the movies, but that doesn’t seem to be the plan that your friend has. When he opens the door to your dorm you immediately notice the lack of Harry Potter pajama pants and popcorn. Instead he’s opted for movie night chic, with jeans that have something written on the left thigh and a white t-shirt that hangs off his lithe torso. His caramel brown hair is pushed back in a way that you’re not used to seeing, but it looks good. Attractive, even. There’s something about seeing him all dressed up and handsome while you’re in measly shorts and a platform 9 3/4 t-shirt that makes your cheeks go hot.

“I didn’t tell you before because I knew that you would say no, but Hongjoong and Seonghwa are having a party tonight and we’re going. Surprise!” Your mouth drops open at Mingi’s form of greeting. Before you can even process what’s been said he’s shaking the rail of your loft bed and chanting ‘Get up! Get up!’

“What about Harry Potter night?” You question dumbly while shimmying down your ladder. Obviously Harry Potter night has been discarded in favor of a house party, you don’t need Mingi to say anything to gather that much information, “Seonghwa is okay with a party in their apartment?” Mingi laughs gently, a soft shake of his shoulders and glittering eyes. It’s the only familiar thing about your interaction thus far.

“The boys said that it’ll hardly be a party, probably too few people and too many wine coolers. Maybe some jazz, Seonghwa’s pretentious like that y’know?” He opens your closet door for you and starts to wrack through the few dresses in the very back. You’d never had much of a reason to buy any dresses.

“Believe me, I know.” Seonghwa was one of the first of Yunho’s friends that you’d met, and while he wasn’t an ass about it he was definitely a little pretentious. It’s probably hard to be an art major for three years and not be pretentious, “Do I have to wear a dress?”

“You don’t have to, but-”

Long story short, you find yourself sitting on a suede couch clad in a red plaid mini dress that you only bought for a neighborhood Christmas party in your sophomore year and your one pair of worn leather boots. It’s a tight fitting thing, meant to be worn over turtlenecks and with tights, but Mingi insisted that it would look good alone. He’s not wrong either, ever since you set foot into the surprisingly swanky off campus housing your lunch mates have been showering you in compliments. It started with Wooyoung wolf whistling and asking for your phone number, then Hongjoong asking if he could’ve complimented you in a way that was any weirder, then San giving you a stemless wine glass and announcing ‘A sparkling cider for the lady,’ in the most offensive British accent you’ve ever heard. It was for sure a strange form of flattery, but flattery nonetheless.

“I’m sorry about Wooyoung, he apparently hasn’t been house trained yet.” Hongjoong jokes while settling you onto his plush, red hair briefly sweeping in front of his attentive brown eyes, “Though we can’t really blame him because of the whole sports medicine thing.” You hear a brief ‘I heard that!’ waft from the kitchen, where Yunho and Seonghwa have gathered the majority of the boys. It makes Hongjoong giggle a little bit, and the sound is so clear and gentle that you find yourself giggling too.

“I guess we can’t.” Your eyes move to take in the living room, which is filled with your lunchmates and some extra people who you don’t know in the slightest. First there’s San, your fellow literature major who just switched from middle school education. Then Yeosang, a quiet sophomore who majors in political science. He usually only talks at lunch to tell his table mates that they sound ridiculous, but every once in a while he'll indulge their antics. Lastly there’s Jongho, the only other freshman in the room with you that you know of. You’ve only just finished your second week but everyone’s already expecting him to be the star student of the music program for the next four years.

Everything about this situation reads anxiety. Mingi is already in a different room, you’ve barely held a conversation with any of these guys before, someone in the corner is definitely getting a little too drunk into a ficus tree in the corner of the room. But you aren’t nervous. A little tense maybe but who wouldn’t be? You certainly aren’t nervous the way that high school you would’ve been nervous.

“He’s not wrong, you know.” Your eyebrows shoot up with a quiet ‘hm?’ behind your lips. It’s mostly because you think you’ve missed something that Hongjoong said.

“Not wrong about what?” He looks at you with his brown eyes and a lopsided grin, and when you look back it feels like he’s asking for permission to unravel you.

“That you look pretty.”

It’s not his words that take you off guard, or how he pinches your cheeks afterwards, or even him getting off of the couch and bouncing into the kitchen like a kid coming down the stairs. Your heart barely announces a flutter, your cheeks barely give way to heat. He was probably tipsy. It’s just that no one has ever noticed you in that way. No one other than Mingi has ever really called you pretty.

So it leaves an impression, to say the least.

Quickly after Hongjoong leaves, San takes his place, Jongho sitting on the floor and nuzzling into the older boy's legs. The three of you talk for hours, Jongho sharing your disdain for grumpy roommates (he says that Yeosang throws pillows at him when he starts practicing) and San for Beowulf. He does mention that your creative writing class is fun, to which you agree. Fun, but ever so stifling for creativity.

It’s a simple kind of conversation, the kind that doesn’t tell anything too personal but still gives insight into the people having it. San throws in a few anecdotes about him and Wooyoung in high school, Jongho shows you a bruise he got from fumbling up the ladder to his loft bed. You even include a few of the controversial star wars opinions that you and Mingi came up with at three in the morning so many years ago. It’s simple, weightless.

When Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night he pauses outside of the door, one hand brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes.

“Hongjoong asked me about you.” He says, a smile playing onto his lips. Something about the way that it doesn’t fully reach his brown eyes makes it seem sad.

“Really?” The memory of Hongjoongs hands on your face, his cute voice burning the words ‘you look pretty’ into the back of your mind, “W-What did he ask?”

“Just basic stuff. How long we’ve known each other, your major...” He wants to add ‘whether or not we’re dating,’ because that’s the question that struck him the most. Mingi doesn’t know Hongjoong too well, but he knows that the older boy is sweet and respectable. If Mingi explained all of this mess to him, Hongjoong probably wouldn’t think twice, just go about his day and be friendly as always. But Mingi didn’t explain it, he said that you guys are just friends and that it’s never been anything more than that. Hongjoong smiled in a way that made Mingi’s chest ache and thanked him before bouncing off to entertain Seonghwa. He remembers feeling taken aback, then like he should go talk to the pretty girl that’s been eyeing him in calculus, “I can’t do movie night next week. I-I have a date.”

And it’s something about those words that manages to crawl into your body and find a home in your heart, then pump throughout your entire bloodstream. You shouldn’t be upset. You have no reason to be upset. Mingi is your best friend, and you were stuttering about Hongjoong mere seconds ago, and you shouldn’t be upset right now.

“Oh, okay... Just don’t forget about me.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but Mingi looks at you like you’re the moon. With care glimmering in his irises and adoration adorning the glow of his cheeks. You think to yourself that there’s something special in the air, then that you shouldn’t be upset.

You have no reason to be upset.

“I couldn’t if I tried.”

The next time that you see Mingi is at lunch on Monday, but he doesn’t take his normal seat next to you. He can’t when you’re already sandwiched between Jongho and San, who are talking in intense detail about their terrible morning classes. Sometimes you can join in, seeing as you and San share classes, but for the most part they just banter. Hongjoong is taking up the seat in front of you, his chin resting on his palm while he nods attentively to everything the younger boys are saying. He reminds Jongho that he needs to be getting sleep, and that life doesn’t happen in practice rooms. He tells San to eat his food whenever the boy gets a little bit too excited. He even asks about your day, to which you respond with something simple and lame. When you mention being tired he gives you the rest of his coffee.

Mingi comes to the table nearly twelve minutes after you do, and it’s not really a big deal that he can’t take his usual seat. There’s a chair between Wooyoung and Yunho at the end of the table, which is perfectly fine. The two of you know each other well enough that a simple look can be translated to ‘It’s okay, we’ll see each other later.’ Which is perfectly fine. You both have a lunch that is perfectly fine.

The week continues on like that, though. Missing each other by a hair's breadth. On Wednesday his intro to statistical methods test goes so late that he misses your scheduled coffee run, then when you tried to surprise him in his dorm later that night, Yunho had to inform you that he was holed up in the library with some of the people in his calculus class (Yunho let you come in and made hot chocolate in the Keurig, so overall the night wasn’t too bad.) Then on Thursday you skipped lunch, opting instead to finish the assigned Beowulf reading at the last possible minute. You hated every minute of it, but not as much as you would’ve hated failing your second ever quiz. San sent you a picture of himself and Hongjoong pouting around your empty chair and Mingi in the background laughing at something that Wooyoung had done to Seonghwa.

Friday night feels more lonely than you had expected. Your bed is empty without the taller boy sitting in it beside you. The movie gets cut off halfway through when your roommate stumbles in and announces that she’s going to sleep, which is the most she’s ever said to you at one time. You turn off your laptop and fall into the uncomfortable bed that you’re slowly getting used to. This is okay. You remind yourself that you shouldn’t be upset and that this is okay.

Right as sleep is about to wash over the room your phone lights up with a message from Mingi. It’s a picture of his hand cradling the chin of a golden retriever puppy, and beneath he’s written ‘we found these dogs in the courtyard. sleep well :)’

After reading the message three times over and staring at the image for ten minutes you start to believe your words. This is okay.

You shouldn’t be upset and this is okay.

Your high school had three classes per semester then one free period for a study hall. Mingi would always make this huge deal out of lining up your study halls, claiming that he needed help with his English classes. In reality you were the person that needed help with classes, namely math and science, but he’d always insist that it was because of whatever book he had for assigned reading in the upcoming class.

There was this one semester, though, where you had four classes. Anatomy, geometry, personal finance, and then your absolute saving grace. Creative writing.

It was a true blessing, honestly. Since every other class was absolute torture, and you didn’t really have any Mingi time to take the edge off of your day, that class was your favorite part of nearly every day. You would kind of use it as an escape, just sit in the isolated corner desk, tap the toe of your then fresh leather boots, and write about any and everything that came to mind. The teacher liked one of your stories so much that he framed it.

Seeing as that was your only experience when you saw ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ on your schedule you were ecstatic. You thought that you’d just get to sit and write anything that you wanted. Needless to say, it is nothing at all like your high school class. The teacher speaks too quickly and assigns nearly a million readings. He waited four weeks to let the students do any actual writing, a fact that San was most grateful for. You, however, were dying.

You think the assignment is kind of stupid, too. Focus on a setting, no characters. Just the setting. It took a while for you to get it just right, but after about a week of staying up past midnight you wrote something that was actually good enough to read. It was nearly two pages about Florence Italy, going in depth about the winding roads. You commented that they were the kind of streets that lent way to deep discussion. The kind that begged for secrets to be shared.

All in all, you were quite proud of it. You even considered showing it to Mingi, until it came back with a bright red C sketched on the front. It was covered top to bottom in red ink markings, none of which were comments about your grammar. No, these notes were personal. This sentence is lifeless. Your tone shift is unnecessary. I’m not sure that this is actually in Italy.

San asked about your grade on the way to your European literature class that day, right as you’re reading over the harshest note of them all. He says that he got an A minus, which makes perfect sense. San isn’t lifeless, he doesn’t do unnecessary things.

“My grade is fine.” You choke out, eyes endlessly tracing over the red notation.

‘This feels lonely.’

In a way, you suppose that it is.

“So you did this every single Friday night?” Yunho questions while sandwiching his way onto Mingi’s bed. It would probably be normal to be upset that your movie is being infiltrated by your friends roommate and Hongjoong, but you’re just so grateful for the movie night to actually happen that it doesn’t matter.

“Sounds about right.” You’re about to comment that you’ve skipped the past two weeks, but the words twinge with resentment right as they’re about to come out. So you swallow them down while scooching into Mingi’s side. Hongjoong immediately fills the new space beside you, his hands occupied with fuzzy blankets that have various patterns. One has corgi’s and hearts printed from corner to corner.

“I don’t know if that’s lame or endearing.” The older boy comments while spreading the blanket you’d been eyeing across your lap. Yunho laughs while taking in a mouthful of microwave popcorn, and you think to yourself that this isn’t so bad. Having a movie night with more people than usual is better than having none at all. There’s more snacks and extra blankets now, so you don’t have to burrow into Mingi’s comforter halfway through and tangle your legs together. Because you’ve never wanted to do that before, it just happened out of habit and necessity. Definitely habit and necessity. Definitely.

There’s also not much difference in the essence of movie night. Someone still interrupts serious scenes to crack a joke, you still tell Mingi that he’s breathing too loud, by the time the credits are rolling you still find grease stains on the underside of Mingis comforter. It’s from all of the years of him using the plush blanket in place of a napkin, and the years of you telling him that he’s going to stain it.

Mingi walks you back to your dorm that night. When he stops in front of the door and lets out a deep exhale it almost feels like you haven’t skipped the past two weeks. It almost feels normal.

“I’m glad that at least one of us has a cool roommate.” He comments idly, eyes raking over your growing smile.

“With cool friends.” There’s a gentle laugh, and you’re not exactly sure why. Nothing is funny, just familiar. Maybe a bit tense, though you suppose you don’t know the reason for that either.

“Yea. Cool friends.” Mingis feet shuffle, brown hair flopping onto the bridge of his nose as his gaze takes purchase on the floor. He smells like oranges and cinnamon. He always has. You think that he looks nice like this, with the flickering hall lights illuminating his face. This is probably what Mingi was always meant to look like. Real, and handsome, and grown, “I think we should switch movie nights to once a month.”

And if this whole thing was a little tense before, like an ornament hanging on by it’s hook around one green needle from a Christmas tree, it’s worse now. It’s broken shards of glass all over your living room floor, willing and ready to pierce your foot and stain the carpet. It’s the gaping hole in your Christmas tree. It’s your mom's favorite Santa no longer having a head.

“O-oh... Once a month?” Mingi nods gently. It almost looks like he doesn’t want to be nodding, but he is. He is, and it’s pulling your heartstrings like an orchestra.

“Yea, I just figured that’d be easier since we’re so busy. Y’know, with classes and friends...” You wonder if he’s going to say something else. Like dates with girls from his calculus class. He never does, but you can feel it.

“I know, I-I’m like... Super busy with all of my f-friends.” A heartless laugh leaves you, and Mingi replies with a smile that doesn’t quite crinkle his eyes, “But yea. Once a month, once a month. Once a month totally works for me.” He takes a step towards you.

“Look, (y/n-)” You think that he’s about to comfort you, which of course would be welcome. Comfort from your very best friend is always welcome. It’s just that a small part of you is worried that he’s going to take it back. You’re worried that he’s going to tell you that it’s whatever and you can have movie night every week until you die and that he’s going to live life in college dragged down by your stupid, lonely self. You’re worried that he’s going to drop it, and that you’ll never live it down.

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow at lunch, yea?” Before the boy can even fully nod, which makes you sick to your stomach for no apparent reason, you’re scrambling desperately for the doorknob to your dorm. You think that you may hear him say goodbye, or wait, or something. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters. Everything matters. You just want to be inside.

When you get inside your roommate is sitting on her bed with earbuds in, though they don’t appear to be playing anything. She looks at you with furrowed eyebrows, and you can’t really blame her. In the rush to get away from Mingi you probably ended up looking a bit frazzled.

“Um... Are you okay?” She questions, her mouth making a perfect circle. You nod fervently while bringing your palms up to pull at your cheeks. They’re wet. You’re not sure when they turned wet.

“I’m fine. It’s okay.”

Sometimes you say something so many times that it doesn’t sound real anymore. I’m okay, this is okay. I’m okay, this is okay, This is okay, this is okay. Okay, okay, okay...

If your roommate hears you sniffling and shaking while alone in bed that night, she makes no comment. It’s the first thing she’s given you to be grateful about all year.

One of your biggest concerns before starting college was walking to classes alone. All throughout high school Mingi would walk with you across the tiny campus, somehow managing to drown out the crowded hallways with laughter and tips for quizzes. When you were taking discrete mathematics he’d walk backwards down the hallway while showing you flashcards.

Obviously you knew that wouldn’t be feasible in college. You might not have known many things before coming here, but you knew that vastly different majors would lead to vastly different classes. You knew that Mingi wasn’t going to wake up at eight am every Wednesday to walk you to your lectures. Knowing didn’t seem to make the actual act of it any easier in your brain.

But after just one week you started to look forward to the trek to your classes. At first it was because you could listen to the assigned readings in the amount of time it took you to get from your door to your desk, however that hasn’t been necessary since your social calendar became suddenly clear. You just do the readings at night in your loft bed, which hasn’t gotten any comfier, then use the walk as a time to relax. To think without impositions, even though they’d find their way to you most mornings.

Today your imposition is dressed in jeans with painting above the knee and a sweater that’s too big, tufts of red hair sticking out from beneath his black beanie.

“What are you doing out so early?” Hongjoong asks while jogging to take up the spot next to you, pulling on the strap of your bookbag as he arrives. When you fully look at his face you can see a dusting of pink across his nose. You think it’s from the light fall wind.

“I could ask the same thing of you.” You think that he looks pretty like this, with inklings of the rising sun taking purchase on his face. You almost think that anyone would look pretty like this.

“I’m out for a walk. Also grabbing muffins from the campus cafe, we’re out of food and Seonghwa’s mgonna be hungry.” His voice sounds groggy with sleep, like maybe he hasn’t been awake long. The notion conjures an image in your head of Hongjoong detangling himself from bed and trekking out to campus all so that his friend would surely have something to eat. It makes this whole exchange just a little bit easier, “Your turn.”

“I have an eight am class.” The boys eyebrows knit together as he looks at his darkened phone screen.

“It’s seven fifteen.”

“... I don’t like my roommate?” At that wimpy explanation he laughs, a gentle laugh that was made for morning, then hooks his arm through your own. The weight is something that you’ll have to grow used to.

“You kids are gonna drive me insane, I swear it.” His free hand pinches your cheek which is growing increasingly warmer. You hope that you two will continue walking like this, quiet and unbothered and maybe a little bit childish.

“Hongjoong?” You question as he begins to pull you down a brick paved road that you’ve yet to travel.

“Hm?” He answers like nothing about this is strange.

“My class is the other way.” The boy giggles at your concern, wanting to reach out and run his thumb over the crease in between your eyebrows. Something about your demeanor, which isn’t far off from a stray kitten, clues him in that you wouldn’t respond well.

“We’re taking a detour.”

“If you don’t tell me where we’re going I’ll pull out my pepper spray.” This sentiment is the first thing all morning that’s made him stop in his tracks, casting a puzzled look to your bulky bookbag.

“Do you actually have pepper spray in there?” You can feel a smile edging on your lips as your eyes click with his, and while you know that he’s not giving you butterflies or sparks it does feel like something. Like the first gulp of soup on a cold day, or the sound of orange leaves crunching beneath your sneakers.

“Tell me where we’re going and you won’t have to find out.” Obviously, you don’t have any. It’s been in your cart on Amazon for forever but you’re not one hundred percent sure about how to order things to a dorm, and you figure that your first package shouldn’t be a literal weapon.

��We’re getting coffee, and you are terrifying.” The comment lights your cheeks with fire as you scurry to catch up with him once again.

“Well you’re the only person that thinks so.” The boy walks so quickly that your feet are nearly going in double time, face puffing with cold air while you speak.

“I doubt that.” You notice that his face is pink again, though you’re not too sure that it’s from the cold this time.

“You’re probably the only person who thinks anything of me.” Hongjoong stutters like he’s going to stop walking again but you tug on his arm once more and he’s back in full swing.

“That’s so not true. Yunho thinks you’re sweet, San says you’re a wonderful writer, Mingi clearly thinks that you’re amazing.” That last statement finds a crawl in your chest and begins to fill your lungs with pink daisies. Amazing. Mingi clearly thinks you’re amazing.

“Sure.” You answer with twiddly fingertips and a thumping heart. Luckily you’re standing in front of the campus cafe before you can think too hard on it.

Hongjoong orders two salted caramel hot chocolates, a black coffee, and three blueberry muffins. When you asked why he didn’t get you a coffee as promised he told you that the coffee here is ass and Seonghwa only drinks it because he’s starved for energy. You don’t have the heart to tell him that the frappuccino you order has so much cream and sugary syrups in it that you could barely even call it coffee, and it tastes pretty darn good. It’s not a big deal. Hot chocolate is good too.

“This is really good.” You offer later while walking through the campus quad. There’s not many people out this early, just a girl you’ve seen in your lecture once or twice and two boys playing checkers on the grass. Hongjoong keeps stepping on the crunchy orange leaves then smiling like a little kid. It makes you think that he’s growing on you, then that you thought that you’d be doing this kind of stuff with Mingi.

You don’t really know why you can’t let yourself enjoy this. You’re in the quad with Hongjoong, waiting out the clock until your class starts, and this precious sweet boy is playing in the fall leaves. This should be a perfect morning, but you can’t help feeling sad. Feeling incomplete.

“I know, right?” He answers, bouncing over to you wearing a bright expression, “Now get up pretty girl, we’re playing in the leaves.”

“I have a lecture.” He takes your hot chocolate and places it on the empty seat next to you before slotting his hand into your own. His skin is soft, like blankets fresh out of the dryer.

“And before that you’re going to have some fun, let’s go!” He’s smiling at you expectantly, so what are you supposed to do other than drop your hot chocolate and join him?

Your first impression is that he plays with people in the way that a puppy would play with another puppy. He’s quite fond of kicking up piles of leaves just to see how tall they’ll go, then you kick them up further and he gets flustered. He then proceeds to throw leaves in your face, then picks them out of your hair before you can get mad enough to throw them back. You think that this is a lot of fun, then that your trusty boots make a nice sound when the leaves crunch under them.

There’s this one time when you try to kick up the leaves and your leg slips out from beneath you, which sends you flailing backwards into the leaf pile. Hongjoong rushes over immediately, his face half concerned but mostly lit with laughter. He asks if you’re okay, though it’s through indecipherable wheezing so you can’t really hear him. The boy is laughing so hard that he ends up laying next to you, red hair and sparkling eyes mingling with the orange leaves seamlessly. You think that he looks like a photograph.

If you show up to your lecture ten minutes late and with crushed leaves sprinkled through your hair, no one mentions it.

Movie night with Wooyoung and San is fun. The popcorn is a little bit burnt, courtesy of San, but their couch is far more comfortable and blankets far fuzzier. Sans burning a candle that smells like cookies, and you feel like nothing could be more accurate to him.

“This is nice, I’ve been meaning to rewatch Harry Potter.” Wooyoung comments while sinking in between you and San on the couch. He’s cradling a bowl of slightly browned popcorn and shoving it into his mouth as if there’s nothing wrong.

“Yea, definitely. I like spending nights in.” You’re about to tell them that you considered this a night out, but then you think that’s terribly sad and that you’d sound really lame. So you nod instead.

They’re pleasant movie guests, San makes funny comments every once in a while. Wooyoung starts to fidget about halfway through the first movie so he spends the first portion of the second one making a fresh batch of popcorn. It doesn’t burn this time. Him and San spend almost the entire movie tossing popcorn across the room and into each others mouths. Overall it’s not such a bad night.

When all is said and done and you’re helping them pick up misfire popcorn kernels, the boys get to talking. They ask you what Mingi’s up to that he couldn’t make it to a Friday movie night. You’re going to tell them the truth, that Mingi’s out on a different date with a different girl from a different class. You’re going to tell them, but the words taste so terribly bitter on the way up.

“Um... I’m not sure. Probably homework.” Wooyoung tosses an unpopped kernel so that it hits you square in the forehead. You simply giggle before throwing it into your trash bag.

“We should’ve invited him! Him and Yunho, it could’ve been a whole thing!” San shouts from the kitchen. It makes your skin prick up with goosebumps. Because while you are definitely lonely, and you definitely miss Mingi, you’re not sure that you could handle his response. You’re not sure that you could handle asking Mingi to come to one of your most prized traditions and him saying no. Him saying no because he’s out with another girl and giving her his undivided attention, because that is how he is, and you couldn’t handle hearing him saying no to you. He never used to say no to you.

“I had fun with just you guys, though!” They tackle you in a bear hug, and it feels nice. It really does, it’s just that you still have that nagging feeling in your gut. Like your professor is right. Like you’re alone.

Your next ‘Introduction To Creative Writing’ assignment is about characters. The rubric clearly states that it should just be about the people and nothing else. Points will actually be deducted if you mention a setting.

So you wrote two characters, a boy and a girl. The boy finds the girl too bland so he asks if she’ll share a secret with him. She thinks for a long time while the boy studies her face, and he loves every corner of it. Finally, she leans in to whisper something. You don’t tell the audience what she’s said, but you do tell them that it makes the boy laugh. Then he kisses her cheek and they laugh some more, until time dies out and the stars no longer shine. You liked it from the moment that you started writing it, and by the end it was something that you were genuinely quite proud of.

Apparently pride wasn’t enough to get you a much higher grade. It’s passed back looking exactly like the last one, a bright red C and thousands of red notations. You flip to the rubric in the back to see that everything is marked straight down the middle.

You didn’t mention a setting, but you didn’t make the setting irrelevant.

Your characters didn’t interact with the setting, but they barely interacted with each other.

You included characters, but they were not lively and enjoyable.

And you’re not quite sure why everything you write is so dead. You’re not a person who feels dead, you’re funny and full of life. You have things to say that are important so you write them into stories rather than speaking them out loud. You’re good at this, so why are you getting C’s? Why is an old man with a beard that touches his belly button saying that you aren’t good at this?

When you get back to your dorm you rip the paper to shreds and cry alone in your loft bed. Mingi texts you to ask when you’ll be at dinner, you tell him that you’re too busy with homework. He asks if he should bring you something, but you lie that it’s all covered. You’re not entirely sure that you could handle seeing him right now.

When your roommate comes in she seems a little drunk. She clambers over to her bed then finally looks up to you. It’s not your finest moment, cheeks streaked with mascara and shreds of paper all around you.

“You okay?” She slurs out. You think that it’s a dumb question, because obviously you aren’t, but at least she’s trying. Trying is good.

“I’m fine” Right as the words come out you know that they sound fake, but you don’t know what else to do. Normally when you feel like this Mingi is just a phone call away. Every time you’ve tried to call him in the past week it’s gone to voicemail. When a week has really torn you down like this one you’d always have a movie night to look forward to. Mingi made it clear that he wasn’t too keen on that anymore. You usually have your shoulder to cry on. Now you don’t even think you’ll be able to keep yourself together if you see him.

And it’s hard for a lot of reasons. Because you need Mingi but Mingi doesn’t need you. Because everything feels so wrong unless you’re desperately trying to salvage your longest friendship. Because maybe this friendship meant a little bit more than just that, but you’ve realized entirely too late.

You usually wake up at seven thirty in the morning. It’s not because you want to, or because your roommate is too loud climbing into her bed at night, or because the sun comes into your dorm weirdly. You just go to sleep late, because you can’t force your brain to stop, then wake up early. Because out of all of the things that are going wrong, why wouldn’t you also get less than four hours of sleep every night?

But it’s not all bad. Every other morning you meet Hongjoong in the quad. Sometimes it’s with a book, sometimes with your latest creative writing assignment. He’ll read them and make comments. He always says that it’s good, and it’s fun to believe him for a little while.

This morning you come to him empty handed, just like he said to last time. There’s supposed to be a surprise. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you don’t like surprises.

“Good morning, pretty lady!” He’s always so chipper in the mornings, with his eyes crinkling happily around the edges and bright red hair bouncing. Today he’s wearing a puffy coat that’s nearly ready to swallow him whole paired with jeans that have a painting sprawling up the calf. You had recently found out that he and Seonghwa were responsible for the illustrations on everyone's clothes. Mingi gave them his favorite jeans after two lunches spent in the cafeteria.

“Good morning.” You were clearly finding it hard to be as excited.

“Did you read the student newsletter yesterday?” Cold air puffs from his lips along with the words, and his face lights up when you shake your head no. The collar of his coat is brushing his cheeks, “So it’s really a surprise then!”

He’s so precious and childlike in that moment that you decide there’s no harm in indulging him.

“What’s really a surprise?” He’s already started walking so you have to do a half jog to catch up, once you’re at his side he starts to skip so that you have to jog even further. This happens every once in a while whenever your friend is feeling extra punchy. You often find it hard to match that energy, but something about this early November morning has you more present than ever.

“Catch up to me and I’ll let you know.” He reaches into his pocket and appears to pull something out, then hang it over his head. You know there’s nothing in his hand. It’s empty and you know that, nevertheless you chase after him. The boy laughs loudly before sprinting away. Once you’ve caught him you start jumping for the mythical gift hanging over his head, which he finds unreasonably funny. The sound rings off the brick path beneath your feet, and it’s like the sun is finally rising. You think that’s the kind of person that Hongjoong is, the kind that would bring the sun up just to make someone else smile.

When you open his clenched hand he slips it into yours, fingers curling ever so gently around your own. His skin feels soft, it makes you wonder what kind of lotion he’s using.

“I caught up.” Your voice sounds small. Hongjoong thinks it’s bright, “What’s my surprise?”

“There are puppies in the quad, I think they’re up for adoption. I figured you’d like to see them.” He’s perfect. On paper Hongjoong should be the perfect boyfriend. He takes you to see puppies, buys you hot chocolate, makes you play in leaf piles, you’re pretty sure he’s redone his entire sleep schedule just so that you two can keep up with these morning strolls. You so badly want Hongjoong to be perfect.

But there’s just something off. Maybe it’s because his one hand can’t fully engulf both of yours, or because he doesn’t tower over you with what feels like two extra feet. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t smell like orange zest and freshly ground cinnamon.

Maybe it’s because he’s not Song Mingi.

“I would like to see them.” You respond, squeezing onto the boy's hands. Hongjoong is perfect, but he’s just not right, “I’d like that very much.”

You’re not quite sure how it happened, but San seemed to notice that your Fridays were becoming more and more lonely. After that one Harry Potter movie night you did with him and Wooyoung in their shared apartment you’ve not really done anything. Hongjoong invited you to another house party, and you were going to go, but when you reached for the handle to exit your dorm you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Something about going and knowing that Mingi would be there, probably with his date of the week, made your mouth taste sour. So you stayed home instead, sitting in your bed and struggling with a creative writing assignment. You’d occasionally snack on some granola bars that Mingi stashed in the bottom of your closet when he moved you in.

Those were your plans for tonight, but San grabbed you just before class ended. He told you that Wooyoung was planning dinner but the recipe serves four so he figured that they could invite you and save the rest as leftovers. You agreed, fully expecting that you’d chicken out at the last second and stay home, yet here you are. Standing in their kitchen while sipping on a shirley temple that San mixed up for you, Wooyoung is occasionally stirring the simmering pot on the stove. San invited Hongjoong at the very last second so those two are sitting at the kitchen table and trying to talk each other's ears off. You find your way into the empty seat beside Hongjoong and let his hand rest on your thigh. He rubs gentle circles on your jeans, and it nearly gives you butterflies.

“Dinner is almost done, would you guys mind grabbing some drinks from the garage.” The two boys nod before scurrying towards the front door and shared garage. Wooyoung takes the seat across from you, “Do you think you’re gonna date him?”

“Who?” You ask, probably in a less defensive way than he’d anticipated.

“Hongjoong.” Wooyoung doesn’t look as playful as usual, the childlike glint gone from his eyes. If anything the boy appears worried, probably for his friend Hongjoong. Part of you wants him to be worried for you. You’ve barely eaten anything except for granola bars in the past week because you don’t want to risk running into Mingi in the cafeteria. Your five hours of sleep every night has been slowly dwindling down to four. Mingi has moved movie night twice this month. You still can’t get a good grade on a creative writing assignment.

“I don’t know.” You think that you probably are. You think that you mostly want to.

“But you aren’t going to date Mingi?” It feels like the air around you is made of cotton, your mouth has gone completely dry.

You don’t know why you’re upset. You shouldn’t be upset.

“No.” There are tears threatening to spill from your eyes. You hope that if you breathe deeply enough then you can will them to stop, “I suppose I won’t.”

The dinner turns out lovely, but you can barely take a bite. You can barely even say another word for the rest of the night. You just tell them thank you, it was lovely, then go home to finish your creative writing assignment. The professor is probably going to write a note that it’s lonely. That’s okay, though. It is lonely, because that’s what you are. Terribly, and irrevocably lonely.

A week after the dinner party you and San are partnered together on a creative writing assignment. The main goal is to learn how to work collaboratively with another author, not that you even considered yourself that, and it’s coming along nicely. There are just a few things that need to be cleaned up before it’s due, which prodded San to invite you out to coffee. At least you thought that’s what it was about, but when he takes his seat at the table there’s no laptop tucked beneath his arm.

“A-are we not working on the project?” You question softly, hands hovering idly over your keyboard.

“I wasn’t planning to, but you... You can if you want to, I guess.” He drops his bags and heavy coat in the vacant seat before flipping through his wallet, “You ordered yet?” You shake your head no, you didn’t want him to show up and have you already be halfway done with your drink and then deal with the awkward conversation of how you showed up thirty minutes early because other than meeting Hongjoong in the morning this is the only thing on your social calendar for a week. After that you have movie night, “I’ll get you something. Coffee or tea?”

“Coffee.” When the boy returns to the table, it’s with two steaming mugs, perfect for the frost bitten weather outside. Yours smells like vanilla and nutmeg.

“It’s the shop special I think.” He smiles gently, dimples on parade for the entire campus to see. You think that San has a nice smile, the kind that takes over his face, along with yours before you can even stop it.

“It’s nice, thank you.” Things are quiet for a second while San is putting away his wallet, and for some reason you’re confused. If you’re not going to work on the project then why on earth did he make the time to get coffee?

“(Y/n?)” He asks softly, raising your attention from the untouched mug of coffee to where his hand is on the lid of your laptop, “Are you okay?”

“Yea, I’m good.” The words sound dismissive before they’ve even left your mouth, “Why did you ask to get coffee?” Sans eyebrows raise and he feels a small tug on his heart. He doesn’t understand why he wouldn’t want to spend time with you.

“Because I have free time and I wanted to spend it with you.” You’re not sure why, but it’s hard to hear that. Maybe because you’ve been hiding from life for as long as you can remember, or because you’ve had nothing but free time for a month and you’ve wanted to spend all of it with the one person that will hardly return your texts, or maybe because sometimes those words are hard to hear.

“Oh.” You take a sip of the coffee, it makes your stomach feel warm for the first time in a long time, “Thank you.” San cracks his knuckles while offering up a gentle smile.

“No need to thank me, we’re friends.”

“I guess that’s why I’m thanking you. I don’t have a lot of friends, if you hadn’t noticed.” The boy is looking at you with attentive eyes, and it feels like there’s something lodged in the back of your throat. It tastes like vanilla and nutmeg and thousands of wasted opportunities, “I used to have Mingi, but he’s so busy with all of the classes and... Dates, that we don’t really talk much. I’m grateful that I have you.” When San smiles it’s sweet and genuine and you feel like you are finally doing the whole college thing. The thing where you make growth.

“I’m grateful to have you too, you’re a sweet kid.” If you weren’t so touched you would remind him that he’s only one year older, “I don’t think any of Mingi’s dates have much substance, honestly.” Something about the way he says it makes you think that he’s not talking about the girls themselves. It makes your heart flip.

“How come?” As soon as the words leave your mouth you pray that they don't sound eager. San lets out a heavy sigh and you think that maybe your prayer worked.

“He just isn’t really satisfied with anything. There have been girls eyeing him since his first time in the cafeteria, but he didn’t care much for it. Now he’s decided to take them up on their offers, and yet he still doesn’t seem to care for it. We’ve all asked him what’s up but he won’t say much. Just that it’s not what he’s looking for.” There’s a pointed gaze that says a million things. Mingi hasn’t found what he’s looking for. Mingi is just as lost as you are. Maybe Mingi couldn’t find what he was looking for because it’s always been there. Maybe Mingi needs you as much as you need him.

“Oh. I didn’t know.” You leave the cafe that day with a smile on your face and hope fluttering around in your heart, and for the first time in a long time you think that maybe you can be happy.

You’ve been planning this night since the moment you stepped out of the campus cafe with San. It’s probably a little bit cheesy, with all of the contraband candles and what not, but Mingi always said that you went a little overboard on movie nights. Now you’re standing in the center of your empty dorm room, illuminated by tea light candles, wearing the dress that you wore when Mingi dragged you to your first ‘party,’ and your heart all the way in your throat. Because tonight is the night. Tonight you’re going to tell Mingi how you feel about him, and you’re not going to listen to the little voice in your head that says this is probably stupid, and that Mingi showing up over half an hour late is a bad sign. That voice is annoying and has made you wait too long for too many things.

So when Mingi walks into your dorm with rosy cheeks and windblown hair, you let your heart stutter. When his jaw drops open, you let yourself laugh, and when he takes a step forward, you do too.

“What’s this about?” He questions with a familiar deep voice that leaves warmth blossoming in your chest.

“I just...” Your eyes lock onto the freckle on his neck before flashing back up to eyes. They’re sparkling in the flickering candle light, “I’ve missed you. Really badly, Mingi. I miss you in the mornings when I walk to class, I miss you at lunch when I get my granola bars from the closet, I miss you when I’m with my friends, I-I... I miss you on Friday nights. I spend all of my time missing you, and I don’t want to anymore. I’m tired of hiding how I feel about things, like I think that my creative writing assignments are stupid, and I hate everyone in sports medicine except for Wooyoung, and I miss you. A-and I think that I might love you, so I wanted to-” Mingi takes two steps forward, coming dangerously close to closing your distance, and you think that he’s about to kiss you. You think that you’re ready for him to kiss you. You’re heart is beating faster, then faster, then faster-

“Why are you doing this?” And then it stops dead. You honestly think that you might be dead. This feels worse than being dead.

“Um, d-doing- Doing what? I’m not doing anything, I thought you were-” You’re rambling and it’s so awful, Mingi knows it’s awful. His hands are massaging his temples as if this is insanely stressful. It kind of is, but you can’t figure out why he would think so.

“Why are you telling me that you love me? After not seeing each other for almost a month, why are you telling me that?” Clearly, this is not the way that you expected tonight to go. Several of the candles by your desk has burnt out, you feel like you’re about to cry, “I haven’t been lonely, (Y/n,) because I have a-” You feel tears tugging on your eyelids so hard that it hurts. Before you can think about it, and before you can hear whatever he has to say, your index finger is in between his eyes and you’re staring at him like you want to throw something out a window.

“Don’t say that.” It’s probably the most assertive you’ve ever been with him, “I just don’t understand why you’re fighting me on this.” Mingi takes a deep breath before running his hands through his hair. You wonder when he picked up on that habit, which person got to see this before you did. He looks handsome. You hate it.

“I don’t understand why you get to want this now. I don’t understand how I have waited and waited for you to love me back for years, and once I’m finally done with letting you break my heart you get to decide that you want this. I don’t understand how that’s fair.” There are tears gathering in the corners of his eyes, but they’re different from the ones that you’ve seen before. They’re not like the ones he sheds over movies, these tears are angry and unwilling.

“Mingi I-“

“Don’t say that you didn’t know. I know that you didn’t know, because you never wanted to know. You were too scared to know, but I was never scared. I’ve always known that we were right, and you were always scared.” It feels like your heart is trying to crawl up your throat in the worst way possible. Like it’s a spider that you swallowed.

“Mingi that's not what-“

“But I can’t be with you (Y/n,) because I’m done with you being scared. I’ve been done with you being scared for years, and I'm finally okay with being done with you. Let me be okay, (Y/n.)'' There are now tears behind your eyes as well, but it’s not angry. It’s sad, because he’s right. You are really scared, it took months for you to work up the courage to admit to even yourself that you love Mingi.

“What are you saying?” The words are choked and staccato, tears spilling freely onto your cheeks. A brief look at his tear streaked face tells you that he’s known this answer for forever.

“I’m saying that I can’t be with you right now. I just… Can’t.”

He leaves before he can see you sink to the tiled floor, or hide your face in your hands, or cry off all of the mascara you had put on just for tonight. Just so that you could bat your eyelashes at him and give him love until the sun came up. Just so that you could give him your love like flowers and a candle lit room.

But you don’t get to do that. You put on mascara for no reason. Mingi doesn’t want your love, he doesn’t want your candle lit room. He gave your flowers back, and they’re just going to sit on your nightstand until time takes her toll on them. Until they wilt and wither and all of the petals fall onto the floor. You don’t know if you’ll have the strength to sweep them up.

It’s not clear when you start crying, but it is clear that you never stop. You cry for hours and hours until you finally pull yourself off the floor and into your bed. The candles burn themselves into darkness. The room smells a bit like ash. Your blankets are warm. Your chest aches. Mingi is gone. You are scared and you’re alone. You probably always will be.

You’re not sure when food lost its taste. When your room lost its color. When your legs became too heavy to move. When sleep became extinct. When it was easier to be in the library than it was to be in your own room. When every single one of your grades sky rocketed to an A while creative writing sat heavily at a C. You can’t watch Star Wars anymore without wanting to throw up. Strawberry ice cream tastes like poison.

You’d fallen asleep on a desk in the back of the library twice before Yunho found you. He wasn’t exactly sure what to do seeing as it was the middle of the day and no one had heard from you for a week and a half except for San, but he figured that leaving a hot coffee by your sleepy head seemed to suffice. If you were tired enough to fall asleep in the library it was probably much needed.

He thought that he’d just forget about that encounter, sweep it quietly under the rug and hope that you started getting more sleep. It was going well enough, until he arrived here. One week later, ten minutes before midnight, you in the same exact position as last time. There were tear tracks in your makeup and black smudged beneath your eyes. He could see the assignment peeking out from beneath your folded arms, ‘Study In Relationships,’ no doubt for creative writing. There are only two words that aren’t covered in black scribbles. You let a gentle snore, and he knows that it’s time to wake you up. To talk to you.

“(Y/n?)” He whispers while gently nudging your shoulder. You grumble ever so slightly before snatching the unfinished assignment back to rest beneath your head. Another small grunt leaves your lips before he calls out your name again, shaking you with a bit more force than the last time. Your eyes flutter open gently and take in the tan walls and fluorescent lighting before you fully register that Yunho is there.

“Hey,” Your voice is gruff around the edges, and you know that if you say too much everything is going to fall apart, “good to see you.” His eyes take you in, sweatpants with countless stains, a hoodie that has a little hole forming in the armpit, your hair disheveled and greasy. He knew that something bad had happened when Mingi came back to the dorm about two weeks ago with tear filled eyes and an unwillingness to talk. You stopped showing up to any of the meals after that, even Hongjoong couldn’t get a hold of you. The blue haired boy would be lying if he said he didn’t worry for you in passing, but all of those concerns were brought to a forefront at the sight of you now. You look, and he means this in the nicest way possible, like a disaster.

“Yea, i-it’s good to see you too.” His hands fiddle with the hem of his sweatshirt, busying themselves so that he doesn’t start to pack up for you, “The library is closing.” Your eyebrows furrow as you suddenly remember where you are.

“Oh. I-I’ll get this cleaned up then.” You don’t know why, but asking him to help feels wrong. You’d like help, but something about his pitying eyes makes you feel small. The same way that you did when those boys pushed you off of your hot pink bike. Like he’s pitying you, except now there’s no lanky kid to save you.

Yunho ends up offering the smallest amount of help possible, just slipping your pencil into your bookbag, before helping you stand. The room swims for a minute before you can walk.

“Can I walk you back to your dorm?” You don’t know how to tell him that most nights you don’t go back to the dorms after the library kicks you out. Most nights you plop down on a bench in the quad and slave over your creative writing journal. Most nights you don’t crawl back into your room until four in the morning, when your roommate is dead asleep and can’t ask you if you’re okay, “Just don’t want you walking back alone in the dark.”

And really, what are you supposed to say?

“Yea, that’s fine.” The two of you walk in silence for a wall, nothing except for the rhythm of padding feet and rustling tree branches. Early winter air nips the tops of your ears while Yunho shivers beside you. You hear him miss a step and you feel yourself choke on a thousand words.

“We’ve missed you.” You don’t respond with the question that you desperately want to ask. You don’t ask if everyone misses you. If a certain boy that smells of cinnamon and eyes that glimmer like childhood misses you.

“Yea. I’ve missed you guys too.” The silhouette of your dorm building is slowly coming into view, you think that it looks different when the world is still awake. Some windows are still lit, people are drawing curtains shut. Normally when you come home everything is dark and unbelievably cold. This isn’t anything special, but it’s a whole lot better than that, “This is me.” You say tersely while slowing to a stop in front of the looming building.

“Yep.” You can tell that he wants to ask you something. Maybe it’s why you were asleep in the library, or why depression wears you like a necktie, or why he hasn’t seen you in the cafeteria for a month in a half. He wants to ask you something, but the way his lips close around the consonant tells you that he won’t.

You get halfway into the door before something tugs at your heart strings, “Yunho?” You call out, turning halfway over your shoulder to see his eyes trained on you. They look sad. You think that it makes sense why, “Thank you.”

He nods curtly, and you know that he’s not sure why you’re thanking him. It’s okay though, because at least you know that he misses you. Before tonight, you thought no one missed you.

Sleep is as rare as ever that night, yet the thing that lulls you to sleep is the same as always. Floppy brown hair, clapping hands, a bad CGI explosion playing off of a crackly VHS tape. He smells like cinnamon and orange rinds, yet when you inhale it’s nothing but your dusty dorm room.

The end of the semester means wrapping up many loose ends. You pack up every coat and Christmas themed clothing item in your closet, notably avoiding the dress that you wore for Mingi. You meet Hongjoong for coffee and exchange presents, a pair of customized jeans for you and a twenty five dollar visa gift card for him. He smiled really wide when you told him that it was to make up for all of the coffees and meaningless conversation. You drop the level two creative writing class that was on your schedule. San makes a plan to meet up over the holiday and you agree wholeheartedly. Finals week isn’t all too bad seeing as you’re already getting less than four hours of sleep a night and funneling every bit of brain power into school. The only thing that’s left for you to do is turning in your creative writing assignment, which is both the easiest task and the one that you want to do least.

The classroom is dead empty when you enter, not even your white bearded professor in sight. You scurry down the steps with the short story in hand, a meaningless piece about two strangers who share misty mornings. You hate it, just like you’ve grown to hate almost everything that you create, but it’s an assignment. It meets the bare minimum for what’s required on your rubric. You finished it.

“Miss (Y/n?)” Your body freezes in the middle of the final step before stuttering slowly back to normal. It probably looks stupid but you barely have the will to care, seeing as the thing that you were most dreading was happening. Your creative writing professor is standing at the top of the classroom with his long beard and judgmental eyes, and you are standing in front of his desk with shaky knees.

“O-oh, hi! I was just turning in-”

“Why aren’t you enrolled in my class next semester?” You take in a breath, the air as thick as soup. You don’t know how to answer his question. You don’t want to answer his question. Answering his question feels like letting go of a piece of yourself.

“Oh, I-I dropped it. It’s just that I have other classes I need to take, a-and I’m not all that good so…” Your professor nods before furrowing his bushy eyebrows and starting slowly down the stairs. Each of his forward steps causes your heart to thump.

“Who said that you aren’t good?” He questions, continuing down the steps. You clench the assignment in your hands and watch as the paper creases beneath your thumbs. When you look at the pages they’re clear, nothing but your words and margins, but when you think about what it’ll look like in a week you want to cry. It’ll be marked in red, with a fat red ‘C’ circled on the title page.

“I-I just, I never thought, Y-you said-” The professor is now standing in front of you with folded hands, his expression of confusion shifted into concern.

“I never said that you aren’t good.” You breathe in again, the air thin enough to actually intake this time around.

“You didn’t?” He shakes his head before pulling the crinkled assignment out of your hands.

“No, you show great promise as a writer! Your writing is… lacking, but it’s only in one area that can be easily improved upon. No great writers start out great, but all great authors show their flaws at one point.” Tears prickle the back of your eyelids, and it feels like there’s a little hand grappling onto whatever you thought you’d have to let go.

“Miss (Y/n,) I’m trying to say that failure is okay. Getting less than a ‘B’ on your paper is okay, but you can’t stop trying.” He’s right, a part of you has known for a while that he’s right. Just because you got a bad grade in this class doesn’t mean that you’re bad at writing. Just because Mingi said no doesn’t mean that you’ll never feel deeply again. It just means that you need to keep trying.

“Oh, um… Thank you.” You’re not sure what else to say. There honestly isn’t much else to say, so you give him a short nod and head towards the stairs. You think that you’re going to head back to the dorm and cry on your bed, which is stripped of its duvet and most of the pillows. You think that you’re going to ask if you can have this class added back to your schedule. You think that you might speak with Hongjoong more often once your break is over.

And sure enough, your spring semester begins with Hongjoong walking you across campus and to your second level creative writing class. The month away seems to have done good for the both of you, Hongjoong returning with dozens more customized clothing items and you with slowly disappearing eye bags. His hair is also faded into a lighter pink shade, which you think suits him quite well.

Your walk to class is uneventful, riddled with small talk and basic catching up. Near the end he slips his arm beneath your book bag and around your waist, which feels nice enough. His arms are stronger than you expected. The half embrace is not unwelcome. When you two are standing outside of the quickly filling classroom he takes your hands into his own for a brief moment before asking if you’re free for coffee after class. You want to make up an excuse for why you can’t go, because you know that this isn’t just two friends going for coffee, but when you look at Hongjoong there are sparkles in his eyes. Pink hair tickles his cheekbone as he smiles warmly at you, and you find yourself thinking that his confidence right now is commendable. You also find yourself saying yes, you can definitely get coffee with.

It’s a fun outing. He cracks a few jokes, you talk about class. He asks if you have any assignments and you say not yet. When he orders an iced coffee you ask if he’s trying to get frostbite, to which he laughs and pokes out his tongue. You think that he looks cute. You think that all of this is kind of cute.

You also think that when you’re with Hongjoong, and he’s making you laugh and holding your waist, it’s very easy to forget about how badly you miss Mingi.

When you agreed to re-enroll in your creative writing class you and your professor exchanged a number of emails. First about how you could improve your grade, then about how to improve your writing, then countless of other questions with ambiguous answers before the two of you finally settled on having weekly meetings. It would be sort of like he were your personal advisor, but only for writing. You would come into his office once a week to discuss your current project and he would read it over, ask if you had concerns, usually give some feedback.

Within the first week it was clear what your most reoccurring critique would be. It was a mantra echoed many times, ‘To write life you have to live it.’ He said that your writing was good, pretty, but the characters lacked life. Then he asked if you could try to spend a little more time with people. It didn’t have to be much, but he was convinced that a bit more people time would improve your writing greatly.

It’s been a month or so since that first meeting, and you weren’t sure if you agreed yet. You were spending almost everyday with Hongjoong, sometimes Seonghwa as well. You were definitely more tired each time you came home, but you also smiled more. Laughed more, too. They would often ask you for help with silly things, like the time that Hongjoong called you at midnight because he needed help touching up his hair, Seonghwa often asked you to mix his paints. It often felt like you were their third roommate, but it was okay. You had fun.

Yet you didn’t see much improvement in your writing. There were still notes in red ink on your paper. You weren’t sure of the remedy you should apply, but more people time seemed like it wouldn’t hurt. So you set up daily lunches with Yeosang and Jongho, which was an interesting dynamic to say the least. Jongho would sit down most days and chug an entire reusable cup of green tea with soy milk before getting lunch, to which Yeosang would furrow his eyebrows and comment ‘I don’t know how he drinks that.’ Usually the younger boy would talk animatedly with you about classes then he’d ask if Yeosang had anything going on. Your dark haired friend would look up from his half inhaled plate of food with deep set eye bags and say that he had at least three papers to write. One time you asked if he was okay, but he just laughed and blamed it on his major. After that your writing seemed to improve greatly, at least according to your professor. He told you that it was starting to come alive much quicker. The only thing he had left to say was that your more gentle characters needed work. He said that they needed to be more than just gentle.

Running into Yunho in the library after that meeting was pure coincidence. You were headed to the back to start cracking down on some of your more challenging classes, namely entrance level biology, yet when you dropped your bag on your usual study table you noticed someone was already there.

“Oh, I’m sorry! I’ll just-”

“(Y/n?)” He asked while turning to face you. It suddenly hit you that the last time Yunho had seen you was while you were at your absolute worst. Not sleeping, or eating, or talking to anyone but yourself. You don’t know if he’s going to let that version of you go. You only know how badly you want him to.

“Yea, it’s me.” The words tug on your vocal chords so you cough lightly in an attempt to clear them, “How are you doing?” He twirls the blue gel pen in his hand for a moment before responding.

“I’m okay. The usual kind of busy, my room’s been messy lately. Just normal stuff.” Quiet settles over your conversation so that you’re left standing awkwardly in front of his neatly organized table. You’re not sure why you can’t bring yourself to speak, but you are sure that it has something to do with the fleeting thoughts of the boy that Yunho’s sharing that messy room with, “What’re you working on?” He asks, motioning with his gel pen to the stuffed folder in your hands.

“O-oh just some biology stuff, I have a quiz next week so…” Before you can say otherwise he’s clearing off a spot on the table and telling you to pull up a chair. He helps you with pretty much every half finished assignment. He even adds extra cheat codes onto your flash cards in crisp blue ink. As you’re leaving the library to get dinner with Hongjoong he tells you to meet him back here after your quiz.

“After all, I’d like to know how my best student is doing.” Weekly study sessions honestly come about naturally. He insists that he’s beyond happy to help, and you’re beyond happy to observe him. Listening to him talk is your favorite part. He’ll ramble on about a lab or being worried that someones going to steal his bike from in front of the dorms. He tells you that he thinks Hongjoong will ask you out, you tell him that you know. He says that your handwriting is pretty, you thank him. When he talks about things that make him angry his words are gentle and calculated, so as not to hurt people that aren’t even present. Needless to say, the red ink marks are few and far between after factoring this newfound knowledge into your pieces.

But you think that it’s a bit more than that too. For the first time in… Ever, you think, you’re happy. Not in a fleeting way that depends on strawberry ice cream eaten on Friday nights. You’re happy in a way that’s hard to tumble, and you’re happy in a way that’s without Mingi. You never thought that you would be happy without Mingi. All throughout high school you feared this very thing, having to live without him and be okay with it. Now that you’re doing it, it’s not all that scary.

You still see Mingi around campus from time to time, in curls of chestnut hair and broad shoulders. Sometimes when you’re walking to class with Hongjoong you can hear his laugh bouncing from the surrounding buildings. Part of you wonders if you’re just conjuring him up. Part of you wonders when it’ll stop.

Hongjoong does ask you out, just like Wooyoung, and Yunho, and everyone predicted. You say yes. You laugh with your friends until your sides hurt. You share kisses with your boyfriend. You start to feel excited about life in a way that you never have, and a part of you honestly wonders if this whole thing with Mingi was just a growing pain. Something that needed to happen in order for you to change.

The aching of your chest at night says otherwise. But believing as much is easier to stomach.

You’re relaxing at Seonghwa and Hongjoong’s house when a nerve is struck. You'd been sitting at the table chatting with Seonghwa while Hongjoong made himself something for lunch. It was really an accident, you had just been telling Seonghwa about your study session with Yunho when he got onto the topic about an awkward study date he had been on recently. You laughed as he recounted it and assured him that a study date was a cute first date.

“I’m sure it’s not as cute as whatever you and Hongjoong did.” And that’s when it happens. The chord is played, the line is written, and Hongjoong was looking at you with wide, apologetic eyes, “Y-you did have a good first date, right?” Your boyfriend said nothing, just bit his lower lip and returned his attention to the stove, “You’ve been dating for a month, you had to have had a first date. Right?”

“I’m sure that we will.” The tension that followed your meek statement was painstaking. First Hongjoong inhaled sharply through his nose, then Seonghwas mouth pressed into a thin line while his eyebrows raised. He muttered some nonsense about needing to get started on his painting for realism class. Apparently he was in such a rush to leave that he forgot that he wasn’t even taking a realism class, “Look, Joong we don’t have to-”

“Do you want a cutesy first date?” He asked, turning away from his food once again so that his eyes could bore into your own. You weren’t sure if his voice was stern in that moment or sincere, either way it was maddeningly effective.

“I mean… It would be nice.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded with his tongue in his cheek before returning to his food. Once it’s done and the fragrance is drifting from his workplace and towards the table, he takes the seat across from you. You’re about to say something but then he presses a swift kiss onto your lips.

“Then you, my darling, are getting just that.”

A cutesy first date, with your sweet boyfriend who brings you tons of joy. It sounds great in theory, except for the fact that it’s been a week since your conversation and he still refuses to tell you when or where the date will be. Some may say that it’s romantic, but you say that it’s stressful. Pretty much every time that you leave your dorm room you end up seeing Hongjoong, so pretty much every time that you leave the dorm room you’re fully dressed and ready to go out. You’re starting to think that he’s finding joy in your suffering. It’s not too drastic of a belief, seeing as every time that you open your dorm room in a new outfit he giggles and whispers ‘cute.’

The miniature cat and mouse game finally comes to an end about a week and a half later, when he texts you Friday morning that you should wear something cute today and to be ready for pick up at five thirty. Though, the suffering doesn’t really end because in reality you spend the entire day raking through your closet for anything that could possibly make a cute outfit. There’s the cursed red plaid dress that you wore to that house party and awful confession oh so many months ago. You figured that was a no go, but honestly what else did you even have? There’s a uniform skirt that you bought while thrifting with Hongjoong, but you weren’t sure what shirt to wear with it. Your favorite jeans were in the wash so those obviously weren’t an option. It looked like it was going to have to be that dumb little dress.

But it’s not so bad, you manage to pair it with a black cardigan and the pair of leather boots that your mom got you for Christmas to replace the old ones. You also do more makeup than last time, so it really doesn’t look all that similar. When you look in the mirror before answering Hongjoongs knock you’re barely even thinking about the last night that you wore the dress. You’re thinking about tonight… Mostly about tonight.

You open the door to see your boyfriend wearing a black button up and blue hair that catches you off guard. His hands are shoved cutely into his pockets, you can see his thumbs twiddling from inside his jean pockets. The moment that his eyes take in your frame his face breaks out into a wide smile. It’s a familiar smile at this point, he wears it around you constantly.

“You look amazing.” He says beneath his breath. You watch with twinkling eyes as he examines every one of your features, your smiles growing with each passing moment.

“You’re not too bad yourself.” You're not sure what to do past this point. He’s said that you look nice, you’ve internally fawned over his new hair that looks so incredibly soft, you’ve looked each other once or twice and smiled. You don’t know if you’re supposed to kiss him now, or hold his hand, or what. This is all quite new, “Um, should we get going?” He looks back at your face with a jump, as though your question had pulled him out of something. You’re going to ask what, but you aren’t quite sure how to get the words out.

“Yes, yea! I-I’ll lead the way.” After five minutes of walking around your familiar campus you arrive at the shuttle. You’ve only taken it once or twice in your time here, mainly to get to Hongjoong’s house at the edge of campus, but you do know that on weekends it will take you into the nearby city. There’s only one seat left by the time that you get on, so of course Hongjoong let’s you have it and opts to stand instead.

“You can sit if you want to.” He immediately shuts down your offer with a quick peck to your lips and a sweet giggle that you’ve grown to adore.

“It’s our first date, I can’t have you thinking that I’m anything less than a gentleman.” If he weren’t so endearing you’d point out that you’ve been together for over a month. But he is endearing, so you only laugh and take hold of his hand.

The date ends up being pretty much perfect. He takes you to a small cat cafe that’s tucked away on the downtown streets of the city, something that you didn’t even know existed until this very night. The inside is fully decorated in light pink with white lighting that highlights your adorable boyfriends features. He’s so sweet the whole time, smiling and letting the cats curl up in lap. The two of you share a piece of cake, he smears a little bit of the stiff frosting onto your nose. It’s cute. Sweet. You return to the dorm room with hot cheeks and a bashful grin.

“I had a lot of fun.” You say to him while leaning up against the doorframe of your dorm room. He smiles, but it’s different from the smile that you usually see. He’s usually so confident and sure of himself, but in this fleeting moment you can see unsureness in his features. It’s almost like he didn’t think you’d like the date.

“Yea?” You nod as quickly as he can ask. It’s not clear why, but you feel the need to assure him that you enjoyed your time together, “I’m glad. We could do something like this every week, you know?”

The response isn’t as quick this time, or as adamant. You want to say yes. You had fun tonight, you enjoy spending time with Hongjoong, you want to say yes. But there’s something holding you back. It’s gentle, tugging on your heartstrings like a haunting winter melody. It tastes of strawberry ice cream, and smells of Song Mingi’s basement. You still remember the first time that he proposed a weekly movie night, all those years ago. You still remember how wanted it made you feel. At times you wonder if anyone will make you feel as wanted as Mingi did.

You’re starting to wonder that now, even as Hongjoong catches his thumb beneath your chin so as to tilt your chin up. The thoughts don't waver until your eyes meet, and you think that you’re probably right. No one will make you feel as wanted as Mingi; but Hongjoong does make you feel wanted. It’s not as overwhelming as Mingi. It’s not as safe as Mingi. It’s not as fateful as Migni. But it is there.

“What do you think? About the weekly thing, I mean. Like how does that sound?” Mingi was everything to you. In many ways he is still, but he’s also gone. Hongjoong is most things, but at least he’s here.

“It sounds lovely.”

You’ve spent a lot of time thinking in the past few weeks, pretty much ever since Hongjoong started with the dates. It’s mostly when you come back to your dorm after them and lay belly up on your loft bed, eyes glazing over the ceiling tiles that you’re pretending to count. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong, the way that his smile overpowers his face. The way that he laughs whenever he flusters you. The way he takes time out of his week to plan these cute little dates with you. Sometimes you think about Hongjoong. But most of the time you don’t.

Most of the time you find your thoughts wandering far out of reach, and most of the time they wander straight into Song Mingi. It starts with thinking that you miss his presence, the way that he jumps to help anyone with anything. The way that his eyes shine each time you call out his name. You miss the way that he gives hugs, all warm and inviting. Some nights if you focus hard enough you can even remember the way that he smells. Orange zest and cinnamon.

If you’re honest with yourself, you know that this isn’t fair to Hongjoong. You like him well enough, but he adores you. He calls you darling and kisses you as though the action is sacred. He always walks you home after every date even though his own house is so far away. In theory, he is perfect. You’ve been dating for close to two months, you should be fully head over heels by now. But you can’t give that to him, and you know it. You also know that you can’t be alone again.

“Darling?” Hongjoong questions, pulling you away from your thoughts and back into the present. The two of you are cuddled into a far corner of the couch, midday sun pouring through the tall windows and landing across your boyfriend's face. You were watching the light dance in his eyes and talking about your latest creative writing meeting, but then he started talking about having another dinner party at the house. He said that it’d be like the one that he and Seonghwa hosted at the beginning of the school year, where you came with Mingi. It’s kind of funny honestly, because he regards that as one of the nights where he first started to like you. You regard it as one of the nights where Mingi first started to hate you, “Is everything okay?”

You should tell him no, because that’s the truth. You’re not okay. You don’t know if you’ll ever get over Mingi. You don’t think that you’ll ever love Hongjoong the way that he so clearly loves you. You shouldn’t lie to him. You should tell him no.

You also shouldn’t be alone again, right?

“Yea! I’m just tired. That’s all.”

In retrospect, you should’ve asked Hongjoong to not invite Mingi to this house party. It would’ve sounded odd, sure. As far he knew you and Mingi were still friendly. Had you requested that Mingi wouldn’t be invited you probably would’ve ended up having to rehash the entirety of your history. It would probably leave your boyfriend questioning whether or not you still had feelings for Mingi, a question that you’d have to lie through your teeth to answer. It would’ve been a little bit awkward, sure. But at least you wouldn’t be where you are now.

You fall gracelessly onto Hongjoongs unmade double bed, hands flying up to cover your flustered face. Mingi arrived at the off campus house nearly two hours after all of the other guests. There was an small window where you thought that you were safe, in which you took time to talk with San and Wooyoung while grazing over the cheese board that Seonghwa had set out. You felt like a true adult in that narrow window, the kind that works a nine to five job and deals with their problems. Then Mingi arrived. Two hours late.

You watched carefully as his eyes bounced around the room. They landed first on Yunho, who engulfed the boy in a warm hug before returning to his previous conversation. Then they traveled to the sectional couch in the living room where Seonghwa sat with Yeosang. He offered them a short greeting while walking through the living room, face crinkling with laughter at something that Yeosang had said. You find it comforting that after so much time apart his laughter hasn’t changed. He filtered naturally out of the conversation before moving to stand beside the tv. You watched his eyes move deftly across the open floor plan and began to wonder what he’s looking for so eagerly. Maybe it’s the girl from his math class. Maybe it’s someone entirely different. His gaze wandered and wandered, covering every corner that it could reach before finally landing. Before finally landing on you.

His eyes were piercing yet kind, stripping away the facade that you had previously believed. You aren’t an adult. You’re a little girl that got pushed off of her barbie bike and had to have a lanky preteen come to her rescue. You’re the idiot who lit dozens of tea light candles in her dorm room just to be turned away. It feels like you’re being stripped of your skin, but it also feels like you’re being reminded of yourself.

“Are you okay?” Jongho asked. You were so occupied with Mingi that you didn’t even realize he had joined. His question was sobering though, pulling you back to the harsh reality that you are okay. And you’re okay without Mingi.

“Yea, I’m fine.” You tore your focus back to the group in front of you, who were all staring at you. They clearly didn’t buy your answer, and you didn’t blame them too much. Anyone who didn’t know you could see that you were distressed, so clearly three of your close friends could tell, “I-I just realized that I have a paper due tonight. I’m gonna go finish it in Hongjoong’s room.”

You now find yourself praying that Hongjoong won’t try to come and find you. You don’t know how to lie about this to him. You don’t know how to look him in the eyes and make up a reason for why you freaked out and left the party. By some terrible coincidence the door handle starts to jiggle. You want to say that you think through all of the possibilities of what you’ll say to him, but in reality there’s only one option of what you’ll say. The truth. If Hongjoong were to come into his room right now and ask what’s wrong you would have to tell him the truth. That you love Mingi.

“Hey honey, I had a paper to finish and-” The person that comes through the narrow doorway is much taller than your boyfriend. His shoulders are broader. The slope of his nose goes down further. Even from here you can smell brown sugar and oranges, “Oh. It’s you.” He looks handsome as ever. His cheeks may be a bit slimmer, the bags beneath his eyes are a bit deeper, but he still looks like Mingi. His face is still your childhood.

“Yea. It’s me.” Silence falls over the room, squeezing tightly around the chords of your throat to the point where you think that they’re going to break, “I-I just saw you come in here and-”

“I have a paper.” He swallows harshly, hands shoving into his pockets as his eyes stay glued to the floor. You find that bit funny, seeing as when you were outside he wanted to look nowhere but you.

“Right. A paper. I’ll leave you to that, then.” He’s moving to leave, and in that moment you know nothing. You’re not entirely sure what your name is, or where left is in relation to right, but you do know one thing. You don’t want Mingi to leave. You don’t want him to leave. He’s barely been here for two minutes. You haven’t said a single thing that you wanted to say. He can’t leave.

“Wait!” The boy stops in his tracks before turning. His eyes finally meet yours again, they’re questioning and so gentle that you almost think things could go back to normal, “I don’t have a paper due tonight. Well, I do but I did it two days ago. It’s just that when I saw you I-I… I panicked. Probably because we haven’t seen each other in months. Probably because I really, really, miss you.” Your eyes are slowly becoming tearful, but you really don’t want them to be. You’ve shed so many tears over this relationship. You should be able to do this. The fact that he’s not saying anything doesn’t make it any easier, but still. You should be able to do this, “You don’t have to say anything, I guess, but I-I’m glad that I said it. You were my best friend, I’ll always think of you in that way. I know that we’ve both said… Things, and I get that you might not be able to move past that, but I’m willing to. If it means that we can be friends again, I’m willing to.” Your eyes somehow became glued to your twiddling thumbs over the course of your speech. You don’t think that you’re going to move them, until you feel a pair of strong arms embracing you. He smells so good, like he always does. This one hug feels like all of the comfort that you’ve craved for the last six months. Like the comfort that only Mingi can bring you.

“I’ll move past it. I-I’ve missed you too.” His voice is low, crackling like a fresh log that’s been thrown into the fireplace. You spend the following two hours in Hongjoongs room. You’re curled up on the bed and he’s in front of the disheveled desk. It’s dodgy, you know that it is, but something about really being here with Mingi makes you forget about all of that mess. It’s much easier to forget about it. You eventually return to the party, floating in between conversations with all of your friends. It’s nice to not have to avoid Mingi. At one point Hongjoong joins your conversation with Mingi, San, and Wooyoung. He puts an arm around your waist, which you should enjoy. You would like to enjoy it, but your mind is slightly preoccupied.

“Where’d you go earlier, darling?” He whispers into your ear halfway through a drawn out story that San is sharing. He’s always been awful at telling stories, but he gets so excited that everyone lets it slide.

“Oh! I just had a paper that I needed to finish, so I went and did that in your room.” He wants to ask why you had to do that with Mingi, but then the other boy starts to laugh and he knows the answer. Based entirely off of the way that you look at him, Hongjoong knows.

Once everyone has left and you’ve all shared your goodbyes, Hongjoong suggests that the two of you clean up the living room together. It was an hour or so of silence before he brought up the elephant in the room.

“I’m not it for you. Am I?” You don’t know why you thought he’d be angry with you. Probably because he’d have every reason to be so. But this is Hongjoong. You could single handedly send the world into ruin and Hongjoong still wouldn’t get mad at you.

“I really want you to be.” You’ve stopped cleaning now, hands lying limp over the small stain that you were previously scrubbing off of the couch. Getting dumped isn’t going at all how you always thought that it would. It doesn’t feel like your heart is being trampled. You don’t have the compulsive urge to cry. No, none of that. It just feels like you’re explaining away a weight that’s been on your chest for months, “Does that make sense?”

“I think that you wish you wanted me. I think that you wanted me more than you wanted to be alone.” He’s started to play with the strings of his hoodie in a hopeless attempt to calm his raging heart, “But you’re not alone anymore, are you?” You could pretend that you don’t know what he’s talking about. You could deny it, but in reality there’s no point to any of that. It would only prolong all of this, so you nod, “Yeah. Thought so.”

When you say goodbye to him he hugs you tighter than usual, you think for a minute that he’s going to tell you something else. He doesn’t. Just kisses your forehead and says to get home safely. You do, it’s a mere twenty minutes before you’re tiptoeing into your dorm room and up the ladder to your bed. It almost gets to the point where you pretend to count ceiling tiles, but then your phone buzzes from beneath your pillow. It’s a text from Mingi, a short and sweet message.

‘I’m glad to be your friend:)’

It’s probably stupid, seeing as the night ended on a terribly sour note, but those few words and that silly emoticon makes it feel like this entire year has been worth it. Because you have Mingi again, and there’s no way that you’ll lose him this time around.

After the breakup with Hongjoong, you were slightly worried that no one would want to be friends with you anymore. It would certainly be a fair decision on their part, seeing as you were beyond awful as a girlfriend. You thought that in Hongjoong’s healing, he would end up telling some of the worst things that you did to some of the people whose opinions matter the most. You’re not sure why you thought that, perhaps because it’s what you would’ve done if someone did this to you.

You’re more immature than he is, though. Hongjoong handles his feelings with grace. His words are unbelievably careful whenever he shares them, or at least that’s what Seonghwa says. He also says that he misses having you around to mix his paints and clean his brushes. You had told him that you were just glad that he still likes you, even if the wounds were only a month old.

There was also the ever present worry that Mingi would ask why you and Hongjoong split. You’ve thought of plenty of fake reasons, like saying that the two of you didn’t really click. Or you could keep it simple and say that it just wasn’t the right time for either of you. The options were endless, but there was the problem of Mingi being able to read you like an open book. He would surely know that you’re lying, possibly before you even opened your mouth. The main risk involved was whether or not he’d pester you for the truth.

That constant fear was not helpful for a regrowing relationship, to say the least. You’ve hung out a number of times since reuniting, but he would always ask you about what you did in the months that you spent apart. Obviously, mentioning the end of first semester was strictly off limits. The rest of the time you spent with Hongjoong, so that left very little room for conversation. You would mostly end up talking about your creative writing meetings, which was fine. It was just sparse.

But this weekend would be different. The two of you had made plans nearly two weeks ago to carpool home together after spring midterms for the long weekend. Your immediate response was to panic, because what on earth would the two of you talk about for the hours that it took to drive home? How would you possibly avoid talking about any of your life for the past four months for that long? But as the days drew closer you realized that maybe it wasn’t such a big deal. The two of you used to go on fun drives constantly, and most of the time you’d barely talk at all. This would be fine. You could manage this.

He picks you up an hour after the exams are concluded, and much to your gratitude there’s music already blaring from each of the speakers. He motions through the window for you to put your bags in the backseat, which you do before sliding into the front seat of his car.

“Hey.” He’s looking at you with a soft smile when he says this, the gentleness of his face juxtaposed against the disney channel music blaring from the speakers is enough to make you laugh. So you do, the sound falling from your lips in a way that reminds Mingi of how dearly he missed it.

“Hi.” You stare at him for a minute, and he stares back. You find yourself thinking that all of this is mighty odd. Just two months ago you didn’t think that you’d ever have the strength to talk about Mingi again, now the two of you are sitting in the same car, “We’re listening to High School Musical?” He laughs too, passing his phone into your lap while shaking his head of brown curls.

“For now yes, you can change it if you’d like.” If you didn’t know him then you would’ve missed the twinkle in his eyes which indicated that he was going to continue, “Only if it’s Hannah Montana, though.”

The ride was full with playful banter and off key high notes. Each time Mingi would go to hit one he’d tilt his head back ever so slightly, the brake lights of the car in front of you catching on the delicate lines of his adams apple as he did so. You would laugh until you had to clench your stomach then chastise him for not keeping his eyes on the road. He never once tried to ask about what you’ve been up to, or ask about Hongjoong. In a way, you almost forgot about it for the long hours that it took to drive into your hometown. Mingi seemed to have that effect, like walking through a museum of all of the things that he made you feel for the beginning of your lifetime. Comforted. Carefree. Joyful.

The car slows down then turns, and even if you weren’t looking up you’d know exactly where this car was headed. It’s the place that you spent every late friday night, the place where burgers couldn’t be served without a milkshake on the side, the place where Mingi first knew that he would always love you no matter how hard he ran from it. The chrome on the outside of the diner looks exactly the same, and when you peer through the windows it’s even more familiar. Red cushioned seats, a jukebox in the corner, salt and pepper in mismatched porcelain dispensers on each table. It feels like you’re coming from a football game with sweaty hair and a quickly beating heart. It feels like you’re still a kid.

“Are you hungry?” You ask teasingly as Mingi turns off the car and undoes his seatbelt. He runs a hand through his hair, laughing lowly.

“More like thirsty, milkshakes on me?” You know how this is going to end. You know what paying for food and offering up rides indicates. You know that this could crash and burn and leave you utterly devastated for months. But you also know that you’ve changed. That you’re finally done living a loveless life in honor of your own comfort. You think that he’s changed too, less bitter now. You’re both finished with hurting each other, so maybe it could end up hurting exactly the way that it did last time. Maybe it’ll end up working out. The fact of the matter is that you’ll never know what falling feels like unless you jump.

“Milkshakes on you.” You respond with a purely happy smile. He smiles too, the kind that breaks across his entire face until it can’t possibly get any bigger. You’ve missed that smile so much, “Hongjoong and I broke up by the way. I’m sure that you already knew that, but I wanted to tell you myself.” He nods once, then purses his lips, then begins to play with his own fingertips. It’s too early for you to get a read on him, but you do think that he already knew. You also think that he’s trying to hide his happiness.

“Thank you for telling me.” He pinches his lips shut and swallows before continuing, “Are you okay?” He reaches out to hold your hand before he can even think about it, but it doesn’t seem to make you uncomfortable. You take his hand and squeeze it gently then slowly set it back down to lay on his thigh.

“I’m fine. I’ll be even better once I get a milkshake.”

Conversation flows more naturally after that, the both of you talking about nothing and everything at the same time. He tells you about the time that Yunho made a hotdog explode in their microwave. You share one of your many anecdotes from lunch with Yeosang and Jongho. He asks about what you’ve been writing lately and so you tell him briefly about your work in progress and the meetings with your teacher. The entire time while you’re talking he beams at you with pride. You had always loved writing so much.

You finish your milkshakes and he tips the waitress extra. You drive the remainder of the way to your house, Hannah Montana still blaring from his speakers. It’s unbelievably stupid and childish, but at the same time it’s absolutely perfect. He pulls into your driveway and lets out a heavy sigh, hands smacking against the steering wheel.

“Well. You’re home!” He doesn’t really want you to go, despite having driven all this way specifically to watch you leave. Something about the look in your eyes, and the fact that it’s directed straight at him, makes him think that you don’t want to leave either.

“I’m home.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and get out of the car before Mingi can even think of another thing to say. He maneuvers a bit in his seat so that he can see you as your picking up your stuff and think of something to say, “Thanks for the ride, I’ll-”

“Do you want to start up movie nights again?” He wasn’t exactly planning on asking you that, but he was planning to ask if you could spend more time together. It’s been so long without you that he wants to spend as much time with you as possible, “In my room, on Saturdays. And I’ll never stand you up or reschedule at the last minute.” Your heart is hammering, you don’t even bother to pretend that you don’t know why. The boy in front of you is stammering and over explaining and turning red in the face, and you are terribly in love with him.

“I’d like that very much.” With that simple agreement, it feels as though the entire world has been set back into place.

You didn’t realize how much junk a dorm room could accumulate in the span of a year until it was time to clean all of it out. There were schedules to peel off of the walls, clothes to dig out from the back of the closet, phone chargers that had fallen behind night stands. It’s weird to look at it now, with all of the homeliness and personality stripped away. Next year there will be two entirely different people sleeping in the loft beds, which you admittedly grew used to. Maybe they’ll be strangers. Maybe they’ll be best friends.

“That’s the last box.” Mingi enters the emptied room right as your eyes move to the empty bed that had been adjacent to yours for the entire year. Your roommate had left early this morning, her things had been packed for weeks already. The two of you never grew any closer to one another, but you didn’t mind. Coexisting with her felt like one of your many growth challenges throughout this year, “You missing your roommate?” Mingi asked with a cocked eyebrow, making you realize that you’re still staring at her stripped bed.

“No, not really.” Your voice comes out so matter of fact that it makes Migni giggle a little bit. He thinks that it’s nice to see you, who was once so meek and quiet, being adamant about not caring for someone, “I’m grateful for her though. I didn’t think that I’d be able to live with a stranger before this year. I didn’t think I’d be able to do lots of things before this year.” You finally move your eyes to the boy standing at your side to see that he’s staring at you with a proud smile. It makes your chest swell with warmth in a way that you don’t even fight against, “What?” You can’t help but break out into a smile as you gaze even longer at his.

“Nothing, I’m just really proud of us. Who we’ve become, especially you.” His pinky finger brushes up against your own, for a moment you can feel his hand aching to hold your own. You open up your palm and lace your fingers into his, moving with certainty and purpose, “I like who you are now, you’re a lot bolder. Happier.” Your body flushes with heat, heart pattering so erratically that you’re sure he can hear it. You hope that he does.

“I-I like you now too.” Your voice wavers as his hand travels to your wrist, pulling you gently so that you’re facing each other. His face looks stern, like this moment is do or die, yet his eyes sparkle with the same childlike twinkle as always. You watch his eyes travel from your own to your lips in a mere second, breath hitching in the back of your throat. You’ve waited for this for such a long time, but as his nose brushes ever so gently against yours you find yourself thinking that it was worth it, “May I?” The question is whisper, your breath ghosting against Mingi’s plump lips. You place your hand on his chest so that his heart is thumping beneath your hand.

“Yes.” You hook your free hand beneath his chin and bring his face closer to yours so that your lips are finally touching. It’s nothing but a gentle brush at first, both of you timid and overly careful, but as soon as you try to pull away his hands are on your waist and pulling you closer than you thought was possible. He kisses you with fever, hands gripping you as though he’s scared that you might melt away. You bury your fists into his shirt, trying desperately to let him know that he never has to worry about that again.

He pulls away after sometime, hands moving to hold your face as he rests his forehead on yours. He says nothing, only brushes his thumb against your cheek and smiles. In the quiet moments, you can make out the blurred lines of a future, one that’s spent in a modest apartment that’s decorated with all of the junk that Mingi just hauled downstairs for you. You can see late nights spent writing at a desk that’s full of his trinkets. You can see weekly movie nights on the couch with blankets and twinkling fairy lights. You can see a life that’s lived with love and passion, a life where pains are forgotten and growth is left in their place.

When he smiles at you and goes in for a second kiss, your eyes flutter closed. Yet you still see it all so clearly. You can see a future, and you can see it with Mingi by your side.

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jjchantill · 4 years ago

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Your Ex is Still in Love With You: Tom Holland (Part 2)

Part One

He doesn't know what came over him. He knew he was being irrational, but that tiny seed of doubt planted itself in his head and refused to let go. His heart was telling him that you would never cheat on him, that your ex was just trying to cause problems between the two of you. His head though...his head was telling him that you had been with your ex having the time of your life. That all along you had been playing him and he was just a sucker. He could see the headline now: Tom Holland Played for Fool by Girlfriend Who was Still Screwing Her Ex. So, he doesn't chase after you like he's supposed to. He doesn't tell you not to go, he doesn't say that you can work this out, that he's sorry. He doesn't say anything, he just watches you go. Because that's what his insecurities told him to do, that's what his doubts said was the right thing to do. It's not until later that night that the full extent of what he's done hits him. He was fine up until he went to make a cup of tea to help him sleep and automatically began fixing you a cup as well. The two of you always had tea together, it was the one thing the both of you agreed to always make time for no matter what was going on in your life. Even if he was miles away on the other side of the world, the two of you would facetime and have a cup of tea together. As he places your mug back down on the counter, it hits him. You're gone. You left earlier and still weren't home. Hell, you hadn't even called. But then again, why would you? He was the one that screwed up. That had accused you of cheating on him, that had said that you were fucking your ex. You had no reason to call because he was in the wrong...right?

End His P.O.V.

You had told Tom you were going to a friend's house but in actuality you went to a hotel. You weren't in the mood to have to explain why you were showing up on someone's doorstep at 1 a.m. instead of being at home. So, you were at the hotel bar enjoying a glass of wine while contemplating your relationship's future. Or at least you were enjoying it until a certain someone showed up at the bar.

"Did you like the song?"

The second you hear his voice, your heart stops and not in a good way. You hadn't expected to see him here. You hadn't expected to see anyone here, no one ever came to this hotel other than you as it was a small, out of the way place that had seen better days.

"What are you doing here?"

He shrugs, "I always stay here when I'm in town. It's one of my favorite places, remember?"

You sigh, you had completely forgotten that you had showed him this place. That this hotel had become one of the many staples that were your relationship with him.

"You didn't answer my question...did you like the song?"

"What does it matter?" you ask.

"It's your song, I wrote it for you...for us."

"You shouldn't have written it."

"Why not?"

"Because that part of my life is over. We're over."

"Says who?"

"Says you the day you broke up with me for Barbie 2.0."

"What if I told you that I made a mistake?" he says.

You shake your head, "no."

You throw a couple of bills down on the bar before getting up and walking away. However, he follows behind you.

"Y/n! Y/n, wait! I made a mistake; I never should have broken up with you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I've spent everyday since then regretting it. I didn't know how to tell you, so I wrote the song and I thought that if..."

"If what? If I heard it that I would just come running back to you? That if you said all the right things then everything would be okay, and I would be yours again? No. No, you don't get to do this. You don't get to show up and mess everything up for me. You don't get to show up and say how much you miss me and how in love with me you still are and think that everything is just going to go back the way it was. I'm happy now, I'm with someone else. Someone who is willing to give me everything I ever wanted when you couldn't even say..."

"I love you," he cuts you off.

You shake your head, "no."

He takes a step towards you and you try to take one back, but he stops you. He brushes your hair out of your face.

"I love you."

You shake your head again, "no. No, it's too late. I waited two years for you to say it. You don't get to say it now that I've moved on. Now, that I..."

His lips pressing against yours cut you off, "I love you," he whispers.

His hands move down to your waist to pull you closer as he deepens the kiss unaware of your heart racing in your chest...

A/N: And that's the end of part two! What do you guys think, should I do a part three?

#imagines #imagine #preferences #preference #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland preference #tom holland preferences #tom holland blurb #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader

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spencerreidslove · 4 years ago

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Staycation

A/N: Just some pure tooth rotting fluff for these quarantine times. Reminder to stay safe and wear a mask in public.

————-

Week 1

“Maybe it won’t be so bad.” Spencer said.

You had to go into quarantine and your best friend was trying to convince you that it wouldn’t be bad.

“How? I’m a high school teacher who suddenly has to teach on zoom, and I live alone. I don’t even have like, a cat!” You said.

“I live alone too! And as far as we know, this’ll be over in two weeks and you’ll be back in the classroom in no time.” Spencer said, placing his hands on your shoulders.

You were currently in Spencer’s apartment, freaking out over the email you had gotten from the school you worked at, saying they were going to be closing for two weeks. Stupid virus.

Spencer and you had met two years ago in a bookstore when you ‘fought’ over the last copy of a book. You ended up getting it, but you also left with a phone number that would turn into your best friend’s phone number.

“I’ve got the best idea!” You said, suddenly.

“What?” Spencer asked.

“We could quarantine together!” You said.

“What? That seems like it goes against the rules of quarantine.” Spencer said.

“Think about it! It won’t be that long, and we both live alone. To save us from going insane, we could quarantine together!” You said.

Spencer seemed to be warming up to the idea. “Who’s apartment would we stay at?” He asked.

“Well...your apartment is bigger than mine. And you have a guest bedroom. And you have a washer and dryer already in your apartment.” You said.

“Fine. You can stay in my guest room for the few weeks we’ll be here.” Spencer said. “We can go grab your stuff later.”

“Oh this is going to be the best staycation ever!” You said.

Week 2

“This staycation sucks ass.” You said, dangling over the couch.

“Aren’t you supposed to go back to school soon?” Spencer asked from his desk. The last week had been fun, but being in the same apartment while both trying to do your jobs was hard.

“No. We got pushed back again. They said maybe by mid-April we’ll go back.” You said.

Spencer’s job at the FBI was changing too. For the safety of the team, they had stopped traveling and were only doing consults from their homes. The team also had a zoom meeting everyday, which meant sitting in your guest room for a very long time.

“That sucks. How are your students reacting?” Spencer asked.

“Eh. They say they love getting to catch up on all their Netflix shows, but some say they miss me, which warms my cold dead heart.” You said.

You flipped off the couch and went over to Spencer’s desk.

“I have a good idea.” You said. “How about tonight we stay up late and watch as many episodes of Doctor Who as we can?”

“That’s the best idea you’ve ever had.” Spencer said.

Later on, the two of you were settled on his couch, holding a bowl of popcorn and under a blanket. As the episodes went on, you caught yourself looking over at Spencer periodically.

His curls had gotten more wild, and you had never noticed the shape of his jaw before.

“Y/N?” He asked. You hadn’t realized he caught you staring at him.

“Sorry, I just zoned out there for a minute.” You said.

Week 3

You were on a zoom call with your third period class, going over Manifest Destiny. Spencer’s call with his team was later in the day so you actually got to do the call from the office for once.

Spencer had stepped in a few minutes ago to grab a book off his shelves, and was now looking at the shelves behind you.

“Can anyone name the president who really pushed for Manifest Destiny?” You asked.

“James K. Polk.” Spencer said from behind you without hesitating.

“Spencer, last time I checked, you weren’t enrolled in my third period American Studies class.” You said.

This caused a few laughed from your class.

“Sorry.” He said before slipping out of the office and back towards the kitchen.

One of the girls on your screen raised her hand.

“Yes, Amelia.” You said.

“Is he your boyfriend, Miss Y/L/N?” She asked.

You felt your face flush. “I-uh-no. Spencer’s just my friend.” You said. Wanting to change the subject as quickly as possible you moved on to your next question.

Later, when you were watching some random reality tv show, you thought about it. Sure, you really like Spencer, but enough to date him?

Maybe there was something there.

Week 4

“Ugh!” You called out, slamming your phone down on the kitchen island.

“You ok, Y/N?” Spencer asked.

“No! No, I’m not ok! I just found out we’re going to be doing online for the rest of the year!” You said. “It sucks. I had so many fun activities planned and I was so excited for the end of the year and I just-“

You stopped as you felt tears well up in your eyes. It was only your second year as a teacher and you were really looking forward to redoing some of your favorite things from last year and some new activities.

“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry.” Spencer said. He came up beside you and wrapped his arms around you.

You fell into his embrace and you two stood like that for a few minutes, Spencer holding on to you, you crying into his shoulder.

When he pulled away, he wiped the tears from under your eyes.

“How about a nice long marathon of whatever show you like?” Spencer asked.

“Even if it’s cheesy and stupid?” You asked.

“Especially if it’s cheesy and stupid.” Spencer said, pulling you in for another hug.

Week 5

“Can I give you a haircut?” You asked.

“Absolutely not.” Spencer said.

You were standing behind him, and you ran your hand through his hair. “It’s getting really long though! I promise I won’t mess it up!” You said.

“No, I draw the line at haircutting. Have you ever even cut hair before?” Spencer asked.

“Once. On a Barbie doll.” You said.

“So no. You are not cutting my hair.” Spencer said.

You moved so you were sitting next to him and did your best puppy dog eyes. “Just a couple inches?” You asked.

You sat staring at him for a few seconds before he sighed.

“Fine. Two inches.” He said.

“Yay!” You said.

A few minutes later you were in the bathroom, Spencer sitting in a chair, you holding the best pair of scissors you could find.

“I’m so glad you let me do this.” You said, brushing through his hair.

“Only because you’re my best friend.” He said.

You smiled and grabbed the scissors, and started cutting the back of his hair.

“Be careful. That sounds like a lot.” Spencer said.

“Calm down, it’s like an inch-maybe two.” You said.

You worked in silence for a few seconds before coming around to his side. You cut some peices and then kneeled down in front of him. You were now eye level.

You brought a few pieces of his hair over to the other side, in an attempt to make it even. You didn’t even realize that Spencer was looking at you until you let go of his hair.

“Hi.” You whispered.

“Hi.” Spencer whispered back.

Suddenly, he was leaning forward, but not all the way. Kind of like a signal, if you didn’t want this, you could still pull away.

But you didn’t pull away. You wanted this. You leaned closer and pressed your lips to his. Spencer pulled away after a few seconds, and then smiled at you.

“I’m really glad you gave me a haircut.” Spencer said.

“I’m really glad you agreed to let me stay here with you.” You said.

Tags!

@rexorangecouny @magnificentmgg

#spencer reid x reader #david rossi #fluff #spencer reid fic #cm #aaron hotchner #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

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dollsahoy · 4 years ago

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hey look whose card reader arrived today

so. anyway.

This Mariposa Barbie head that @floccentric sent was cute, but there were a lot things about her that weren’t my style. But! a light brown Mackie sculpt! so it was worth figuring out

First I tried to deglitter the lipstick and ended up removing lip paint, so the lips had to go, as did the hair, because I was not fond of the fiber or color (I did consider curling it, but...enh.) Just look at how low the hairline was rooted.

I wiped all of the original paint and decided to, loosely, copy Licca paint style.

After that, brushed some yarn and glued it directly to the scalp with Tacky Glue. After that dried, I gelled it, then, when the gel was dry, I cut it, repeating the gelling-then-cutting cycle a few times.

I mainly intend this hair to be a placeholder until I’m in a mood to reroot--it’ll peel right off whenever that time arrives

#doll #doll customizing

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mila-dans · 4 years ago

Text

A Moose in Headlights

One Shot: A Moose in Headlights

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: What happens when Sam stops looking at you? Why does he all the sudden start to ignore you? If no one will tell you, you have no other option than to figure it out yourself.

Word Count: 2810

(A lot of thanks for the gif: @blackhowellbae )

“Alright!” You say as you shut the car door and hop in the backseat. “Who’s buying?”

You and the Winchester brothers had just gotten done with a shifter case in a small town located in North Dakota. It had been some long and grueling hours so all you wanted to do was blow off some steam. And your steam came out of a “let’s get blackout drunk and make some regrets that we will deal with in the morning” kettle.

“Um,” Dean turns around in his seat, “I believe it is your turn,” he says with a smile as he points at you. You look at him and scrunch up your nose. He laughs as he pats your knee and then turns back around, starting the ignition.

“Sam?” You ask as you put your head over the seat to look at the tall Winchester. “You want to pay for tonight's round?” You grin as Sam rolls his eyes and shakes his head with a smile.

You knew you could push him to pay if you really wanted to. You were the only one immune to his furrowed brow and puppy dog eyes. Since that was usually his biggest defense in any argument, fights involving you usually ended up with you walking away as winner.

“Alright, alright!” He gives up causing you to smile with glee. “I’ll buy the first two rounds but then you have to pay for the rest.” He looks at you as you contemplate his offer. “Going once...”

“Hold on!” You request. You turn towards Dean. “How much will you be drinking tonight?” You ask him.

“Going twice…”

“I don't know yet,” Dean replies. He thinks for a moment. You look at Sam as he slowly starts to speak again.

“An--”

“Fine!” You shout, cutting Sam off. “I’ll buy after the second round.”

“Now that I think about it,” Dean smiles, “I think I’m planning on getting really drunk.”

“Oh, come on! You can’t even get drunk without drinking the entire bar!” You complain as you cross your arms and fall back into the seat.

“That’s what’s gonna happen when you try a cheat out of our arrangement, Y/n.” Dean smirks.

“I--I was no--that wasn’t cheating! Sam completely offered that deal on his own,” you reply.

“And that is because you have my little brother wrapped around your finger,” Dean says causing a blushing reaction from Sam.

“No she doesn’t!” Sam says with the smallest crack coming from his voice.

“Uh-huh,” Dean says unconvincingly.

“Don’t worry Sam,” you say, patting his shoulder, “I have nine more fingers just for Dean.” You wink at him in the mirror to which he just rolls his eyes. You then lean your head against the window and start to close your eyes, but not without catching a quick glance of Sam looking at you in the side mirror.

You always liked it when you’d catch the younger Winchester glancing at you. It always made you feel some sort of way. You had thought about getting into a relationship with him. The deciding vote was no. Always no. You had been hunting with them for a while now and to go out on a limb and say that you have feelings for him was a risk you were unwilling to take. So, for now you’d just have to settle for the quick glances and butterflies you get whenever he smiles at you.

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The three of you made it back to the motel for a quick stop before you hit the road to getting drunk. You decided to take a fast shower in order to really loosen up whatever blood and guts that you had under your clothes and on your skin. Dean was probably fixing up his hair in its perfect position while Sam was most likely just waiting to leave.

“Sam!” You call out as you crack open the bathroom door. He looks up from his book and walks over to you.

“What?” He smiles and tilts his head in question. You open the bathroom door and yank him inside.

“I need your help,” you say, shutting the door and holding the front of your dress to your chest. You smile and turn around. Sam shakes his head and zips up the back. This wasn’t his first rodeo when it came to helping you zip up a piece of apparel. You fix your hair in the mirror and once again, catch Sam looking at you. You smile and turn to face him. “Do you like it?” You ask, looking down at your little white dress.

“Um,” he clears his throat, “Yeah. yes, Y/n. I love it. Is it new?” He asks. You try and hide your cheeks as they start to blush.

“Yeah,” you smile. You walk over to the door but get stopped when Sam places his hand on your shoulder. You look at him confused but then he takes his other hand, fixing a single piece of hair and changing the way it falls on your head so it aligns with the others.

“Sorry, I just… um…” he takes his hand off your shoulder and smiles. “Perfect.”

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

You had been sitting at a table seating two for fifteen minutes waiting for some guy to possibly give you a little company. You were two beers in and wanting something to regret in the morning. You deserved it too. You have been non stop for days now. Dean had the right idea. You saw him in a booth with not one, but two women. Blondes. And as Dean would call them, “the fun ones.” You were actually surprised that you didn’t see where Sam had run off to. He was probably with someone himself you kept thinking. You had thought the small stuff like this wasn’t gonna bother you but you decided that it only gave you more of a reason to drink.

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

Several beers and an uncountable, at this stage, amount of whiskey in. A couple guys had come up to flirt but no one stayed for long. There was only one who seemed to keep you at his center of attention. Tall, dark, and handsome.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to start up a conversation and get into something that would only lead you to get into something else. The two of you went back to your motel room, booked only for events like this, and the rest was history.

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

The next morning, you woke up in bed with a pounding headache. Obviously, your steam had definitely been cooled. Now just wait til next time. That is, if you could make it to next time. Sure you liked to hook up and have flings but every now and again, you yearn for something more. You yearn for someone who will be with you for more than an hour and spend time with you other than in a bar or in a bed. As a hunter, being in a relationship could and will end badly. Just another reason to drink and never look back.

You had gotten fully dressed and ready to hit the road back to Bobby’s when you heard a knock on the door. You went over, half expecting the ever so consistent Sam with his coffee and painkillers. Instead, you got a weird Dean.

“What’s up?” You ask as you put in an earring as Dean takes a seat in the chair.

“Nothing,” he says nervously. “Have you talked to Sam, Y/n?” He asks. You look at him strange and the worst thoughts enter your mind.

“No,” you respond cautiously, “Why? Is he alright?”

“Yes! Yeah, he’s fine. I was just wondering,” Dean says, trying to stop your worried train of thought.

“Oh, good.” You nod and Dean does the same. You take a look at him and can tell something else is going on that he’s not telling you about. “Dean?” You ask.

“Yep?”

“What are you hiding from me?” Dean’s face turns white with a bit of red. You look at him, prepared to grill him down till he gives you an answer.

“Listen, Y/n,” Dean starts to say very cautiously. “Sam’s--”

“Hey!” Sam shouts, opening the door almost perfect timing to cut Dean off. “Are you guys coming?” He asks, almost sounding nervous.

“Yeah,” Dean replies. He stands up and whispers in your ear. “I’ll tell you later. Don’t worry about it.” He smiles and pats you on your back. “Let’s go!” He says, walking out the door.

You grab your bag and Sam holds the door open, looking down at the ground.

“Thanks,” you say suspiciously. Sam only nods and gives a quick smile.

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

While in the car, you swap stories of the night before. Dean tells about his misadventures with the Barbie girls and you try to recall whatever you can from the supposedly good night. Sam remains silent throughout the car ride which you questioned twice. He only shook it off. But what really bothered you is how he continued to look down. Whether it was the seat, his lap, or even Dean, for some reason, he wasn’t looking at you.

This almost made you feel uneasy. You tried to think of if you did something, said something that made him mad. Maybe you might’ve called him a bad name while you were drunk. Stepped on his ego or something. Whatever it was that made Sam seem distant from you, you had to figure it out.

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

When you arrived at Bobby’s, Dean immediately disappeared to chat with his surrogate Dad. It left you and Sam alone, with loads of books and alcohol. For the first time, you weren’t interested in either. The only thing that you could think about is why Sam was acting all weird. Or even better, what was Dean going to tell you about him.

When Sam walked in the Library where you were sitting on the couch. You figured this was as good a time as any to figure out what was going in on the youngest Winchester’s head. He was sorting through a stack of books when you walked over and knelt down beside him.

“Hi,” he said looking at you then immediately turning back down towards the books. You glared at him and he looked at you again. “Wh-What?” He asked, confused.

“Why won’t you look at me?” You let out. He once again had a confused look on his face. He stood up and you did too. He towered over you and looked down at you.

“I’m looking at you right now,” he said with a light laugh. “I don’t know what you mean.” He shrugs his shoulders and tries to walk away but you stop him and turn him back towards you.

“Why are you acting like this?” You ask again, looking quizzically at him. He shakes his head.

“Y/n, I have no idea what you are talking about.” He brushes off your hand and heads outside.

You stare in confusion as he waltzes out the door, and just ignores you.

“What the hell was that?” You say under your breath. You sigh and try to figure out what was wrong with Sam. You soon get stopped by what sounds like voices coming from out in the hallway. You turn around the corner to see Bobby and Dean, standing and having a quiet argument amongst themselves. “What are you doing?” You ask, getting a surprised and nervous reaction from the two. They just stare at each other. “Hello? What is with everyone?!”

“Hey!” Bobby says. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t do anything,” he says unconvincingly.

“Yeah,” Dean adds. They are most definitely hiding something.

“Someone better start speaking right now or someone is about to get a slap in their face!” You shout.

“It’s Sam, he--” Dean starts to say but then Bobby hits him on the back of his head. They both give a quick smile. “What I meant to say,” Dean starts up again, lying through his teeth, “Is that you should probably talk to Sam.” Dean lets out a forced chuckle.

“Yes,” Bobby says, “You go do that.” Bobby pulls Dean with him as he walks off in the other direction. You toss up your hands.

“What the hell is going on?!” You say again under your breath as you walk outside to go find Sam.

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

You had walked throughout the salvage yard with the only place left to look was his carport. You were thankful when you heard some sound coming from close by, showing the existence of life which you hoped to be Sam’s.

“Sam?” You asked, peaking your head around the corner and walking towards him. He shuffled his legs on the ground where he had been sitting.

“Hey,” he says with a fake smile.

“What are you doing?” You ask, taking a seat on the gravel next to him.

“Um,” he chuckles nervously, “throwing rocks?”

“Throwing rocks?” You ask, unsure of his odd choice of actions.

“Yeah,” he rubs his hands through his hair, continuing to stare at the ground. “I’m just thinking about stuff.”

“Is that stuff about how you won’t look at me? Or how you have been acting distant? Or why you keep avoiding me?” You interrogate.

“I don’t mean to--I don’t--I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he decides on. Not even managing to convince himself with that save. He shakes his head and laughs. You smile at him and he finally looks at you. Really, looks at you. “I’m not wanting to dodge you, Y/n. I don’t want to avoid you or--or not talk to you. That’s not what I want to do.”

“Then why are you?”

“It’s just…” he takes a deep breath. “It’s just not the same as before.” He stares back at the ground and you can tell how nervous he is.

“What’s not the same?” You ask. He takes another deep breath but remains silent. “I could just go ask Dean, you know? He seems to know whatever this is and had been trying to tell me.”

“Really?!” Sam lets out in frustration. You nod your head.

“So who’s gonna tell me? Huh?” Sam smiles and sighs. You love it when he smiles. It makes this imperfect world seem perfect just for a moment. He looks up to you and you see the sadness and confusion weighing down his face. “What’s not the same, Sam?” You ask sincerely.

“My love for you,” he lets out softly. You stare at him, trying to find your jaw from where it fell.

“How is it different? Did--Did I do something?” You ask, worried.

“Well, kind of.” He looks at you and sees the confusion so he starts to explain. “I used to be able to tolerate it when I saw you get drunk and hook up with random dudes from the bar. I used to be able to just ignore it or at least try to when you’d flirt with the guys at the police station. It’s just different now. Now, I can’t bear the sight of you with another man. Now I can’t even wake up without my first thought being about you. Now I just can’t stop getting so upset that it’s not me whose arms you're in. It’s not me who's making you smile. It’s not me who you’re kissin--”

Before Sam could finish his confession, you placed your hands on his head and put your lips on his. The two of you continued to kiss and hold each other in one another's arms until you could no longer breath. When you managed to look back up at each other, you both started to break out into laughter.

“What did you mean when you said I stopped looking at you?” Sam asks as he brushes a stray piece of hair and tucks it behind your ear.

“I mean,” you take his hand and place it in yours as you look him in his beautiful eyes, “You always look at me. Whether we are in the Impala or in a bar or even when we are in the middle of a hunt, you always take the time to look at me. And seeing you look at me is my favorite thing. So when you stopped… I didn't know what to think. I thought you hated me or something.”

“Hate you?” Sam laughs. “Y/n, I love you. I love you so much. I’m in love with you!” Your heart skips a beat but you smile up at him as the butterflies erupt.

“Well, that makes two of us. Cause there is one thing I know for sure and it is that I love you every time you look at me and I just become more in love every time I look at you.”

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Thank you for reading!

#sam winchester x reader #sam winchester #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural imagine #dean winchester #bobby singer #happy birthday jillian #I hope this qualifies as a present

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baby-grayson · 4 years ago

Text

Kind Stranger|GBD|Part 7

Parts 1-6 warning: fluffy Tags: @styles-dolan @evergreendolan @someonetogray @vintagedolan @prettyboydolan @dolansficsandpics @graysavant @baby-turtles

Kale? Spinach? Mushrooms? Eggplant? Grayson’s eyes surveyed the brightly colored board of food options. He weighed the consequences of choosing to include or omit tomatoes from his lunch order. His concentration on his lunch kept his anxieties at bay. Earlier that day, his palms left a greasy layer of sweat on the steering wheel of his Porsche, with his girlfriend and brother silent in the car. His girlfriend and brother now stood beside him, still silent. Ethan’s arms were crossed as he leaned against the back wall of the restaurant. Kate leaned significantly on her good leg, holding a hand on her hip and looking at the ground. Grayson eyed the pair quickly before returning his focus to selecting his meal. Why won’t they talk to each other? It’s like they already don’t like each other..

Grayson tried to shake thoughts while pondering the benefits of sweet corn. Kate glanced at Grayson, struggling to understand the complexity of the decisions that go into making a veggie wrap. Her eyes flickered up toward Ethan, who’s stare was focused straight ahead on a container of napkins. The similarity in the twins was still striking to her. The tattoos on Ethan’s arms were the only definite indicator of their identities. I should know my own boyfriend from his twin brother… Kate took in a breath and moved her gaze up to the ceiling, questioning whether the silence was comforting or eerie. She released a tension in her jaw she hadn’t realized she had been holding when Grayson looked back at her, scrunched his nose slightly, and smiled wide. Grayson’s smile washed over Kate as a wave of relief.

Ethan’s stomach lurched while his eyebrows raised. His brother’s new relationship was sweet, there was no denying that. Grayson shined when he picked her up that morning: his smile was infectious when he took her hand in his during the car ride over. Grayson spent the morning assuring Ethan that Kate was “Awesome! So funny and sweet”, promising that Ethan’s apprehensions would vanish after spending real time with her. Ethan almost felt bad for asking Grayson so many tough questions about her. Almost.

Grayson looked from Kate, to Ethan, and back to Kate, “How does carrots, humus, spinach, celery, and bell pepper sound?” “Like a stroke of creativity that definitely didn’t take you 20 minutes to think about,” Ethan responded sardonically, earning a breathy chuckle out of Kate. Grayson bit his tongue against a snarky response and looked at Kate, “Ladies first,” he motioned a hand in front of him toward the register. Kate stepped forward, chatting through her order with the girl behind the register. Grayson stepped toward Ethan, with an expectant look in his eye. “What bro?” Ethan unwound his arms at Grayson’s wide-eyed look. Grayson’s eyed darted away from Ethan, toward Kate’s backside, and back to Ethan for a second time. Ethan shrugged softly, not having enough information to give a real analysis, “She seems nice. You know I think ordering whole wheat is a sign of a great life partner.” Ethan couldn’t hold in the laugh that escaped his lips when he met Gray’s annoyed look. “Sorry,” Ethan shrugged again, trying not to ruin Grayson’s honeymoon mood, “She seems fine, I’ve barely talked to her.” “She’s great,” Grayson smiled wide at his brother before letting his eyes wander to Kate’s backside at the register. He noticed her give her credit card to the girl at the register and spoke louder, “I can pay for that baby.” Kate looked back at Grayson and shook her head softly. Her tone was nonchalant, “It’s fine, I got it.”

Ethan made a small hum of approval next to his brother, meeting his gaze. Grayson stepped forward to place his order, Kate stood next to him; avoiding joining the awkward air near Ethan at the back of the room. Grayson’s large, rough, calloused hand instinctively laid over Kate’s dainty hand. Ethan smiled softly at the gesture; his brother was always a romantic. In truth, Ethan was impressed by the simple fact that she paid for her own food. It was the first sign that she wasn’t interested in Grayson for his money or influence. She showed Ethan that, even in the smallest way, she wasn’t looking to be wholly dependent on Grayson.

The scene was interrupted by a small bell followed by a few high-pitched squeals coming from the door to the restaurant. A man in an expensive polo shirt and loafers was accompanied by two teenage girls, who were nearly bouncing at the site of the twins. Kate’s brow furrowed: What would make two girls scream in public? She followed their gaze to the twins and was hit with the realization: Grayson’s life was massively different from her own. The two girls bounced their way to the twins while professing their love and asking for a picture. Kate was impressed by how elegantly Grayson handled the situation. He smiled with genuine happiness and stood with grace, giving his entire attention to what they were squealing at him. When the teenagers and twins broke up from their picture, one of the girls got on the phone, to call who Kate could only assume was a friend. “OMG STACEY YOU WON’T BELIEVE! IT WAS THE TWINS! YES! I KNOW! AND ONE OF THE TWINS’ FRIENDS WAS HERE WITH THEM!!!!!!!!!” The small restaurant sounded like a Justin Bieber concern circa 2008. And yet the sound of Kate’s own heartbeat created a deafening silence in her head. One of the twins’ friends… Kate tried to shiver off the growing knot in her stomach, the words weren’t settling right inside of her. She had never been a particularly insecure girl, being a disabled woman in science demanded self-confidence, but the teeny bopper’s words echoed in her ears. Grayson stood beside her, equally awkward but for a different reason. He could only imagine what Kate was thinking after seeing something like that for the first time: a scene that had come to be normal for him since moving to LA. He wanted so badly to reach out and hold her hand in his. He wanted to brush his thumb over hers and give it a squeeze. He wanted to place a hand on her lower back, kiss her head, and breathe in that citrus scent that he could never get enough of. But he knew he couldn’t: not with his fans in the room, not with their phones in their hands.

If Ethan noticed the cumbersome emotions of his companions, he didn’t show it. He coolly ordered his lunch, keeping his voice low and posture relaxed. Meanwhile, his twin brother was producing enough sweat to provide water to an African dessert and his brother’s girlfriend was combatting her inner dialogue about independence.

Most of the trio’s problems faded into the air in Grayson’s Porsche. Grayson’s right hand securely coddled Kate’s, while his left casually hung over the steering wheel. Grayson loved sitting next to Kate in his car, her sweet smell filled the car and her cute laugh filled the air. Ethan loved sitting with food in his lap, its savory smell filled his nostrils and promised his stomach of good times to come.

Not soon after, they sat at the Dolans’ kitchen island with food, napkins, and smoothies strewn out in front of them. Grayson was in the middle of his fifth story about elementary school with Ethan. Kate tossed some sweet potato fries in her mouth, smiling gently and laughing at Grayson’s punchlines. Grayson followed one story with another, hoping some at some point his brother and girlfriend would release their tense energy and start to see all the great things he saw in both.

“—and then Cameron hit me over the head, and I ended up with a barbie doll arm up my nose—“, he had barely bit into the lunch he spent nearly a half an hour ordering because he was so busy filling the silence. Kate winced at the mention of a doll arm up six year old Grayson’s nose, “Ooh that’s a bad one.” Ethan shook his head, finishing a sip of his smoothie “That’s nothing. Grayson’s head is practically made of stainless steel. Barbies are kind of a bad omen for him though,” he picked at a pile of chips. “This one time when we were like 12, he was dating this girl from down the street. She went as barbie to a Halloween party and convinced Grayson to dress up as Ken.” Kate nearly choked on her sandwich as she let out a chortle, Grayson’s face turned a hot shade of red from behind his veggie wrap. “That means you’re a dedicated boyfriend,” Kate show him a playful wink between bites of her sandwich. Grayson, who’s face was the color of the bell pepper in his wrap, nodded, “I’ll do anything for my girl.” Ethan’s stomach lurched but he held back the urge to react to the happy couple, “He’ll do stupid things for you if you ask him too,” Kate laughed again, “He’ll do stupid things without you asking too, just to impress you.” Kate snickered, fingering a plate of sweet potato fries. She pointed a fry at Grayson “What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done to impress a girl?” Grayson’s cheeks flared, “I uh—well” Ethan gladly cut his twin off to finish, “This one time he tried having sex in a handstand just to prove he could hold himself up for that long.” A loud laugh escaped Kate’s mouth, while Ethan’s accomplished look met with Grayson’s mortified one.

“Should I ask if you could do it?” Kate looked from Grayson to Ethan and back to Grayson. Grayson stammered again before Kate finished, “Maybe you could show me one day.” She proudly flicked the last sweet potato fry in her mouth.

A wide grin grew on Grayson’s face, his cheeks slightly burning. Ethan nearly lodged a chip in his throat. “I knew you were the girl for me,” he reached for her hand across the island. Ethan shook his head softly, “Ryan did say he had a good feeling about this.” “Exactly,” Grayson triumphantly kissed Kate’s cheek as she asked, “Who’s Ryan?” “Ryan is our best friend--,” Grayson started, pulling away from Kate’s cheek. Ethan spoke over his twin, “—he produces our podcast, helps with the videos, pulls us apart when he beat up on each other too hard.” Kate’s eyes found the floor. She looked up at Grayson when Ethan finished, “I thought we weren’t telling people…about us?” Her eyes stared up at Grayson, wide and longing for reassurance. She felt confused, in a deep place. She had already put away her feelings about keeping their relationship private: coming to terms with the fact that Grayson’s life was different. Grayson wanted desperately to cup her face in his hands, seeing her eyes like that ate threw his heart. “Ryan is different, he’s our best friend. We can trust him.” Grayson’s heart quivered when he saw the emptiness grow in Kate’s eyes. Her thoughts raced: What was it about the people in her life that made them untrustworthy? The white walls of the coastal interior of the rental felt less beachy to her and more alienating in that moment. Grayson wrapped an arm around and leaned in to kiss the side of her head. His movements were shaking. He stroked his thumb on the small of her back, trying to put her at ease almost as much as he wanted to put himself at ease. He was normal. She was normal. Their relationship was normal, normal, normal. Grayson wanted so badly to hold her in that moment: to hold her as close as possible to his chest and let her hear his heartbeat, the heart that beat for her. Grayson was never very good with words, but he wished he could find the words to tell her how much she meant to him. He felt like she was sent to him, a strong shot in the dark with everything he always wished for. She was beautiful. She was smart. She was independent. She was driven. She was funny without being cruel. Her laugh sounded like a song. Her little snore when she slept on his chest sounded like a little teddy bear declaring its adorable presence to the world. She had overcome so much; she reminded the entire world of that every time she stood up. She was twice the person that Grayson was and it killed him inside to see her eyes look like that. A pain ran through his chest, he never wanted her to be upset because of him. He cherished her. Even though their relationship was new, his heart held absolutely no hesitancy. He looked at her like he was sure, sure she was meant to stick around, to change his life, to make him a better man: the best man he can be.

A loud creak scraped across the floor. Ethan awkwardly stood up from his seat at the island, feeling as though he was in someone else’s scene. He shifted his eyes from Grayson’s hand on Kate’s back. Ethan quickly gathered the bag and wraps from his lunch to dispose of. Ethan left the room, leaving the young couple in that position. Grayson’s hand found a home on Kate’s lower back, while she looked up at him, somewhere between bewildered and disheartened.

They snapped out of their trance long enough to clean the rest of the kitchen. Grayson led Kate out, placing gentle kisses on her head and squeezing her small hand. He wanted to memorize the way her hand felt: so small, dainty, and regal in his large, rough, calloused hand. His fingers tingled with jabs of pain when his open wounds moved, but it was worth it to get to feel her smooth, warm skin.

They stood at the front door together. Kate’s hand delicately in Grayson’s, he looked down at her with adoring eyes while she looked up at him. Her eyes had let go of their earlier state, but had yet to return the warm, brown fire Grayson loved so much. “Thanks for coming to spend time with Ethan,” Grayson started, “I think he started warming up to you.” Kate smiled passively, “He’s nice. I’m glad I came today.” She lifted herself on her toes and kissed his cheek gently before lowering down. She turned for the door when Grayson held her hand tighter, “Wait—” he took in a breath. How does he say this? How does he break this? Maybe he shouldn’t say anything at all? Maybe he should say everything? Lay it all out there right? Be completely honest. Honestly is the best policy.

“I’m so happy with you and I love that my brother got to know you better. I’m so glad he got to see you being you.” Grayson gulped softly, Kate turned to face him again, closing the space between them softly. “You’re sweet, so sweet. And you make me happy. Like really fucking happy,” his eyes watered slightly. “I don’t know if I’m supposed to say this, but I was starting to get really lonely before you. And then you came out of nowhere, dropped out of the sky and right into my lap, being here and fixing my problems since the moment I met you. You’re so different, like nothing I’ve ever seen before. I didn’t even know girls like you existed.” Grayson let go of her hand to run both of his hands through his hair before looking down at her again, melting more by the minute. The warmth returned to her brown eyes, as her lips slid into a kind smile. “You’re—I—We—I want to keep you around.” Grayson decided on, nodding subtly as he spoke.

Kate lifted herself up by her toes and placed a sweet kiss on his lips. Grayson cupped her face in his hands and deepened their kiss, drinking her citrus scent and becoming intoxicated on the sweet taste of her tongue. He ran his hands through her soft, luscious hair. He moaned softly, dropping his hands to her waist and pulling her body in closer. Kate wrapped an ankle around his calf, pulling her body up to continue to meet his mouth, tracing her fingers against his shirt and feeling the curves of his body underneath. She didn’t retract when she felt a hard bulge against her waist, in fact she pulled herself even closer to him—eliminating any space between the two of them. Grayson grabbed onto her, feeling a strip of silky skin when the hem of her shirt rose. His lips became frenzied, obsessed with kissing her at maximum capacity for as long as he could. Her nerves caught on fire when his tongue slipped against her bottom lip, begging for an entrance. She opened her mouth slightly, allowing him entrance. Her hot skin started to flame when her mouth was filled with the honey taste of his decadent tongue.

Grayson let one dauntless hand fall from her waist, grabbing lightly onto her ass. She smirked into his kiss, triggering a physical mechanism inside of him. He grabbed tightly onto her ass, his body tormented by not having her in this moment. It was Kate who pulled back first, her face covered in strands of unruly hair, flush cheeks, and swollen lips. She breathed in softly before lightly stepping out of his grasp. She nodded and smiled up at him, attending to be sweet but failing while the heavy air hung in the moment. “I’ll see you soon,” she kissed his cheek quickly and moved swiftly toward the door as Grayson mumbled his own words of goodbye. His body, mind, and spirit felt intoxicated by her. He tried to step but recognized a shaking leg as he made his way to the couch. He ran his hands through his hair and laid down. Yeah, she was the one.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I had mixed feelings about this part while writing it. I hope you enjoyed lovie!

#banana squad #if you know you know #grayson dolan #dolan #dolan twin #ethan #ethan dolan #grayson x OC #grayson dolan romance #fanfiction #fluff #fanfic #youtuber #twin

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yamithediaperdork · 4 years ago

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Baby of the family OR Birthday wishes are tricky pt 1 (Power pack)

Baby of the family OR Birthday wishes are tricky

It was Alex's 15th birthday and while he found the party his parents were throwing him to be a little cheesy and childish. He did understand though at a certain level this party wasn't just for him even though it should of been. Being the oldest meant his needs were put on the back burner for Julie or Jack's or Katie's needs, and toss in Katie was STILL wetting the bed at 8 years old (and wearing pull ups for longer car trips) and well, he'd basically had to become a mini adult. it was Katie and Jack who drew his attention now, watching them run around the living room with Jack having apparently stolen Katie's stuffie again. 'You know, for someone who so desperately wants to be man of the house..he needs to stop being such a bully.' Alex thought and went to move over to stop him. "Don't worry Birthday boy, I got this." Julie said, holding up a hand and marching over. his oldest sister and still younger then him, Alex smirked as he watched Julie snag jack by the ear and march him over to say sorry to Katie. having a big sister like Katie would of been sooo cool growing up, he watched Julie interact with Katie and Jack lots and while her and Jack didn't always get along, she tried. "alright everyone, to the table. time for the birthday boy to blow out the candle!" Came Mr.Parker's voice. His parents just knew of him as a nice guy who had recently moved into the neighborhood to help look after his aunt but of course Alex and the others knew the truth. Mousey gentle Peter Parker was really spider-man. And he wasn't even the only superhero at the party! of course with the kids being the hero team known as power pack one would expect a few heroes to show up but mom and dad were actually STILL clueless about the powers. That said Jack being best friends with Franklin Richards, AKA the son of Reed and Sue Richards meant that not only Franklin but Johnny and Sue had a excuse to come over. (the thing while loving birthday party's had excused himself apparently upset when he was told he couldn't go in the bounce house this time, while reed who Alex had hoped would show up had gotten busy with a experiment.) Mix in the other kids who'd been invited and a whole lotta people were singing happy birthday to Alex as his barbie princess cake (He'd made the mistake of asking Katie to pick out a cake for him) was carried over and he closed his eyes and thought of a wish. 'I wish I could be the baby of the family for once. see what it's like to be like Katie.' he thought, then blew.

The party went on for awhile longer but soon guests were excused and some of the family had to get ready for bed. and by some of the family that meant Katie on her back in the living room, both hands on a sippy cup of warm milk and watching the last of a cartoon movie as Julie got her tapped up in her thick bed time diapers. Of course they didn't WANT to put the 8 year old back in diaper diapers, but without how much Katie flooded the bed there was no choice. heck, the car trip Pull up's were starting not to be enough. the sippy cup was because once it got close to her bed lately Katie seemed to zone out and as funny as seeing her dump a drink on her face was, the clean up was awful and she had started asking for warm milk before bed and no one wanted her to burn herself. "hey Alex, I know your the birthday boy and all, but my show is coming on and if I don't claim the tv now Jack will put it on something stupid and say he was there first just to tick me off...you mind?" Julie asked, scooping up the almost asleep now padded Katie and offering her to him. "heh, I got this." Alex said and took Katie who oddly..seemed heavier then normal. 'must be from all the sweets she packed away.' Alex thought and struggling to not show he was having a little bit of trouble, carried her up the stairs.

with Katie bear in bed, Alex yawned big time and headed for the bathroom. it was only going on 8 pm but he felt just wiped as he paused to look in the mirror. 'no bags under my eyes and I look ok..maybe it's just sugar crash.' Alex thought and shrugged. Normally one to put off his shower till right before bed, Alex started the water running and heating up as he stripped and answered natures call, then got in and started to wash himself. on a silly whim he made use of one of the pink extra soft cloths they used on Katie because of her baby soft skin and also used some of the fruity smelling princess shampoo she had, giggling and picturing a old bugs bunny cartoon as he lathered up his hair.

Downstairs Julie and Jack exchange puzzled faces as the water started up for a shower. Mom and dad were a few doors down meeting aunt May and Alex never went for a early shower unless forced too. heck, you could set a clock to his shower time! "..Maybe Katie sprung a leak already and he's cleaning her?" Jack suggest and shrugged a little. "no way! those new diapers are MASSIVE! even a little pee princess like her couldn't make them leak THIS fast." Julie said shaking her head. "welp, that's all I got. Maybe he just wanted to cover up the sound of his taking a massive dump. you KNOW how much he blushes when we tease him." Jack laughed. "Pffft yeah..mister gruntzilla. I think the whole block knows when he's going he grunts and whimpers so loud. " Julie snickered. "Remember when Katie knocked down the bathroom door convinced he was being attacked because he kept going..oh god..what was it.." "Oh! 'please god please god Oh oH oHHH!'" Julie said, mimicking Alex's whimpers of despair. "Bwhahahaha yeah! That was when he took too much diarrhea medicine because he had to give a speech to the whole school and kept getting the runs." "then couldn't unload for five days. yeah. Mom and Dad were gonna take him to the ER if he hadn't of gone when he did." the middle siblings laughed and shared more embarrassing stories about their respective roomies as the TV show was forgotten.

Alex was swaying back and forth on his feet, having fallen asleep standing up in the shower and only woken up when the cold water hit him. He was shivering a little from that but mostly moved as if drunk he was just sooo tired out of the blue and hauled himself out of the shower and turned it off and grabbed a large white towel and started to dry himself but was doing a worse job of it then Katie had when she was 5. shrugging it off he just wrapped it around him like a damp clock and made his way into his way into his and Jack's room, and headed for his dresser. deciding to go with a KISS solution since he was so tired, Alex just tugged on a pair of old white briefs (he'd been avoiding them lately despite liking their cut better then boxers because Jack kept calling them toddler pants) Tossing the wet towel in the hamper Alex stumbled over to his bed and plopped down, face first and was out like a light before he could even cover up.

around 9 was Jack's bed time and their parents where back, having asked where Alex was and Julie and Jack told them as far as they knew, he'd gone to bed. Making his way upstairs Jack had 'somehow' managed to put off taking his shower and gosh, would just have to get it in tomorrow. It wasn't that Jack didn't care for showers or liked being stinky, just there was ALWAYS something better to do then take a shower. Coming into the room he shared with his dweeb of a big brother, Jack noted that the light was still on which meant Alex had to of been super tired since he was super OCD about turning off lights if they weren't being used. Looking over Jack snorted at the site of Alex on his back, legs and left arm sprawled out in his bed while he was sucking on his right thumb, in just his toddler pants. 'what a doofus.' Jack thought and shook his head. Doofus or not, he was still his brother and Jack didn't want the dork to get a cold. with that in mind he tugged Alex's Blanket up over him, then as a after thought grabbed one of his own old stuffies (that he was keeping around because they'd be worth money some day. not that he still totally needed ot loved them!) and held out Mr. Fuzzy wuzzy , having it brush on the blonds arm. Alex reached out with his free arm in his sleep, coming out from under the blanket and whined around his thumb. "whoa..too much cake and pop and Alex goes baby brained! awesome!" Jack thought with a grin but then let the big toddler have the stuffie and huggle it. 'I'm going soft in old age.' Jack thought to himself then after changing into just his boxers got the lights and climbed into bed.

In a universe where a god of Myth fought alongside with a world war 2 hero, a man who had built his own battle armor and well, any number of different heroes and villains and forces exist, it was amazing that random wishes weren't picked up by more cosmic being's who might just answer them. and for the most part, it's a good thing that most of these are ignored because Alex was about to learn what happened when a simple wish can get granted, at least to a degree.

Alex hung his head in shame as he showed his parents what had happened the next morning. Having always told Julie, Jack and many many times Katie that they should be honest with their parents if they have accidents, it had been Alex's turn to practice what he preached when he'd woken up this morning in a very soggy bed. Thankfully it didn't smell THAT bad and mom and dad were going to open the windows and air out the mattress in the back yard, but Alex was still SUPER ashamed. He'd of course gone and gotten washed up but came back to find the others in his and Jack's room, and two out of three of them were being less then nice with no mom or dad in site to call them off. "Sheesh, and I thought I dodged having to deal with anything worse then you with a milkshake in you!" Jack said, holding his nose and waving a hand. "Oh puh-lkease. you think this is bad? try waking up in a diaper pail everyday because of pee princess here." Julie said, and jerked a thumb at Katie. "H-hey! don't be meanies!" Katie huffed and then turned to a mortified Alex, patting his leg. "It's OK Alex, accidents happen. but worse case you can come into my room. as Julie said..it uh..kinda smells.." "Kinda?" Julie asked and then shuddered. "and that's all i need, twin pee fountains going off in stereo." "I-it's not that bad!" Alex whined. "and really? Little miss farts rainbows is gonna start giving lip about sleeping arrangements!?!" Katie added as Julie's cheeks flared red now. "we talked about that,m you're not su-" "and YOUR not 'pose to complain about me either. fair's fair." Katie said and nodded her head. Alex gave Katie a weak smile. "heh, thanks for coming to my defense..kinda, Katie bear." Alex said and gave er a hug. He was sure this would prove to be a just one time thing, and as such, tried to put it out of his mind as much as he could when a look out the window showed his mattress being set up in the back yard.

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azozzoni · 4 years ago

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restless & wreckless | Ch 5 | VDS |

Warning: there’s a bit of adult content ahead

“Where’s your phone?”

Lucas looked up as the bedroom door swung open and his dad stood there, the vein Lucas had come to know very well these past few months pulsing in his forehead as he strode in and grabbed the phone off Lucas’ bed.

“Hey!” he protested as his dad moved over to his laptop and unplugged the charger.

“As of now, you’re grounded,” his dad said, waving the laptop at him. “You’ll get it back for homework.”

Sliding off the bed, Lucas glared at his dad, his phone clutched in his fist. “Why?”

“Why?” his dad repeated, as though the question was ridiculous. “Skipping class, talking back, and how many detentions have you had in the last month?”

Lucas didn’t think he actually wanted an answer to that. He didn’t know the number anyway. “What the fuck do you care?” he demanded instead. “You can’t just take my phone. I need it.”

“I survived without a cell phone for years,” his dad said bluntly, ruffling his shoulders, his ugly plaid shirt rumpled, thinning hair sticking up in places as though he had spent the last few minutes running frustrated hands through it. Lucas was sure he had, building up his anger enough to storm into his room like this. “You can last a week.”

“A week!”

“Be glad it’s not a month, Lucas!” his dad snapped, turning on Lucas as he reached the door. “I’m tired of this acting out. I don’t deserve it. Katelijn doesn’t deserve it. From now on, you go to class and you do your homework and I don’t get any more calls from the headmaster, understand?”

“This is bullshit!” Lucas said, pulse pounding in his veins as he stood there, utterly useless to stop his dad from doing any of this.

“Yes, it is bullshit,” his dad repeated, sounding just as annoyed. “Now go do your readings then I want you to put away the dishes. And I expect you to be polite to your step-mother.”

As his dad left, Lucas slammed the door behind him, growling as he turned to his room, kicking a pair of shoes out of his way, pressing his hands to his face.

Anger coursed through his veins as Lucas shoved textbooks off his desk, tumbling to the floor with bent pages, and flumped down in the chair, glaring at The Strokes poster tacked crookedly on the wall behind his bed, dark covers unmade from this morning. There was no way he was going out into the living room with his dad and Katelijn, not to do some pointless chores as a punishment. Wasn’t living in Antwerp with his dad punishment enough for everything wrong he would ever do?

Fidgeting, Lucas pushed himself up from the chair, pacing his room, blood pumping, antsy as he tried to think. He wasn’t staying there. He wasn’t going to wait for his dad to come yell at him again.

His eyes landed on the window and he actually laughed. Grabbing his jacket, he wasted no time pushing the window open. Cold air hit him in the face and he shivered as he slid a leg out. It was more than a few feet up off the ground, and though Lucas had no idea how he’d get back in, it didn’t stop him from dropping to the wet grass and brushing off his hands as he ducked around the corner of the house to the street.

Fuck. Where could he go? Lucas thought as he headed down the street, streetlights reflecting off the wet pavement, a stray car splashing past. It was late, dark, cold, and it wasn’t like Lucas had a ton of friends he could go crash with. The trains probably weren’t even running, so any thought of simply leaving Antwerp and going to Utrecht was out of the question. Not that he could have called Kes to give him a heads-up anyway.

Sighing, Lucas stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked, kicking an empty soda can off the sidewalk. It tumbled into the road and landed in a puddle.

He knew why his dad had wanted to move here, and it wasn’t because of some amazing new job, or that Katelijn was from Belgium. It was that Lucas’ mom was now far away, a distant memory, a problem he no longer had to deal with.

Glaring at the quivering leaves of the trees dotting the street, glistening with rain in the yellow street lamps, Lucas kept walking. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became, and he barely realized where he was until he turned on a familiar street.

It was Jens’ street. Lucas had seen him walk home this way before, heard Jens joke about his room being easy to sneak out of because of the roofline and the tree leading up to it.

Jens’ house was in the middle of the row, the one with a pink barbie car in the front lawn. The front lights were off, the whole house dark, and for a minute, Lucas paused as he gazed up at the windows. A tree grew up from the lawn, just over where the roof jutted out over the front steps, a window dark and quiet.

What was he doing here? What exactly was he going to do? Climb up on the tree, knock on Jens’ window and tell him all his problems? No, he wasn’t going to do that, Lucas told himself firmly. That wasn’t what he and Jens did. What he and Jens did was something else entirely, something that could still involve Lucas climbing up the tree and knocking on his window anyway.

Lucas shivered as a chill breeze swept down his neck. He couldn’t stay out here all night no matter what, and he wasn’t ready to go home.

So he crossed the lawn in three steps, hauling himself up on the tree and twigs catching his jeans as he crawled onto the roofline and tapped on the window.

He couldn’t see anything through the window as he knocked again, louder, relieved as a lamp clicked on and the curtains were pushed apart to reveal a sleep-rumpled Jens, blinking at Lucas through the window.

“Luc?” Jens asked as he swung open the window. “What are you doing?”

“Out for a walk,” Lucas replied, and Jens still frowned, rubbing at his eyes.

“On my roof?”

Lucas shrugged instead of answering. “It’s cold. You gonna let me in?”

For a second, he wasn’t sure Jens would, but then Jens stepped back, opening the window wider for Lucas to slide inside. It was warmer inside, and Lucas took in Jens’ bedroom as Jens closed the window behind him.

The bed covers were thrown back as though Jens had been asleep, clothes scattered over the floor, a poster of a woman in a swimsuit on the back of the door, corners peeling, school textbooks piled haphazardly in the corner along with his backpack and a bunch of shoes tumbling out of the closet.

“You can’t be loud,” Jens said, voice lower now as Lucas turned to him. “My sisters are light sleepers. And they always want to know everything.”

“Sisters,” Lucas repeated slowly. He hadn’t known that, but he supposed, there was a lot he didn’t know about Jens.

“They’re younger,” Jens explained, moving over to the door and clicking the lock. As he returned to Lucas, he paused and Lucas took a moment to appreciate Jens in only a pair of boxers and an old tee shirt, smiling at his bare thighs. “Why didn’t you text?”

“Didn’t feel like it,” Lucas lied, backing Jens up until he could push him down on the bed, a soft flump on the comforter, the headboard knocking back as Lucas climbed on after him.

“Shh!” Jens hissed, freezing, and Lucas waited a second, listening with Jens, but he heard nothing from outside the door. After a second, Jens exhaled, hands coming up to Lucas’ hips. “Be careful.”

“Oh, I’ll be careful,” Lucas assured him, straddling Jens’ hips as he kissed him, lips warm and soft.

Jens’ hands slid up his sides, pushing at Lucas’ jacket as the kiss grew more heated, panted breath between them, rushed and needy as Lucas sat up to shove his jacket off, tossing it carelessly on the floor as he got his mouth back on Jens’, chasing his tongue, the easy slide of wet lips against his own. This was usually where most guys freaked out, as if anything past kissing was too much, too gay.

Jens didn’t, though, breath hot against Lucas’ ear as Lucas pressed kisses down his jaw instead, fingers curling into Lucas’ hair as he tilted his neck back. It was Jens’ hands under Lucas’ shirt, gliding up his back, that made Lucas pause, just for a second.

Pushing away the sudden hesitation, Lucas shoved Jens’ shirt up his chest instead, leaving burning kisses against his skin as he slid down, hooked his fingers under the waistband of Jens’ boxers and tugged.

When he looked up, Jens was staring down at him, mouth open, gaze intense, nodding when Lucas met his eyes.

Jens was hard as Lucas slid his boxers down his thighs, swallowing as he leaned in, taking his time and listening to the curse Jens breathed out above him, barely audible, fingers clenched in the sheets as Lucas moved.

He knew Jens was trying to be quiet, biting down on his lip, harsh breaths through his nose as Lucas took him in, slid his tongue along the length and sucked.

Jens was hard and heavy in his mouth, a bitter taste that made Lucas moan softly, cut short as Jens gripped his hair.

“Quiet, quiet,” Jens gasped, eyes closed, head tilted back, throat working as he swallowed.

Hands sliding up Jens’ legs, Lucas didn’t slow down, face buried in his thighs, skin hot against him, velvety soft and pulsing as Lucas pulled away, climbing back up to sprawl on top of Jens and reach down with his hand to finish the job.

“Fuck,” Jens cursed, pulling Lucas’ mouth to his, kiss messy and desperate, his whole body pressing to Lucas’, a leg wrapping around Lucas’ as he bit back his noise. “Fuck, Luc, I’m gonna—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, taking a sharp breath against his cheek instead, body going stiff against Lucas.

Lucas stroked him through it, sucking a mark on Jens’ neck just because he could, enjoying the heat rising on his skin as he pushed his hips against Jens’. He knew better than to expect reciprocation, rocking into him instead.

“Jesus,” Jens breathed into Lucas’ hair, a hand tight on his lower back, biting down on his lower lip, pulling Lucas in closer.

It surprised Lucas somehow, that Jens wasn’t pulling away, ushering Lucas out of his room and pretending this never happened. Instead, Jens rolled them over, pressing Lucas into the mattress, brushing his hair from his eyes as he reached down.

“I’ve never done this before with another guy, so be nice,” Jens muttered, and even though Lucas opened his mouth, he didn’t get any words out as Jens’ hand undid the zipper on his jeans and pushed underneath.

Lucas didn’t have to be nice as he snapped his mouth shut to stop any noises coming out, a slight whimper escaping as Jens jerked his wrist and his body pulsed with pressure, a tightness building deep in his gut.

Closing his eyes, he exhaled shakily against Jens’ chin as the flush crept over his skin, fingers digging into Jens’ neck as the tightness built within him, a clench in his stomach seconds before he came, lips pressed to Jens’ cheek as he took a breath, sated and relaxed for a minute.

“Another first,” Lucas hummed, content, as Jens rolled off him with a sigh, lying side by side on the small bed.

“Don’t be so smug,” Jens replied, but he smiled as Lucas glanced over at him. He looked just as content as Lucas felt, pulling his boxers back up and settling in with his arm behind his head on the pillow.

As Lucas lay there, the warmth fading from his skin, the momentary elation of sex draining away, he couldn’t help thinking of his dad, of what was waiting for him at home.

“You gonna tell me what you were really doing on my roof?” Jens asked after a long, quiet moment, and Lucas rolled his head to watch Jens next to him, his soft, mussed hair, lips red, flush fading on his cheeks.

“No,” Lucas said finally, and Jens laughed, rolling into him, pressing a kiss to his lips that Lucas closed his eyes at.

“You’re a jerk,” he breathed, and Lucas didn’t argue. “Come on, give me something.”

As Jens settled back in beside him, Lucas bit back his sigh. He didn’t owe Jens anything, any explanation for why he did the things he did, but somehow, that didn’t stop him from shaking his head.

“I’m grounded. My dad took my phone.”

“I see that worked out well,” Jens said, a smile in his voice, and Lucas tilted his head to watch him, the grin on his face.

“Completely,” Lucas agreed after a second, rolling his eyes even as he smiled.

He wasn’t looking forward to going home, his dad’s anger that would surely be waiting. Another week of grounding or worse. He didn’t want to think about it—there was no point in considering what might happen in the future. For the moment, he was fine staying right here.

“You can hide out here,” Jens said a minute later, and Lucas blinked at him, the soft smile on his face, the way Jens reached over to brush his curls aside. Something nervous clenched in his stomach at the gesture, so simple. Too simple. “As long as my mom doesn’t see you.”

That made Lucas feel better somehow, knowing Jens didn’t want his mom to find him, and he shrugged instead of answering, hands on his stomach as he turned to stare at Jens’ ceiling instead of the easy way Jens watched him. He’d hide out here for a minute.

#van der stoffels #wtfock #skam nl #my fic #happy holiday weekend

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stusbunker · 4 years ago

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Questions: Who?

A Supernatural Fan-fiction Series

Featuring: Sam Winchester x Wife!Reader

Setting: Starts in Season 12, ends in Season 13

Sixth and Final Chapter of my Questions Series

A/N: Thanks to everyone for reading this through! I really appreciate the support and feedback! xoxo Stu

Warnings: Torture, blood, vomit, hospitals, fate, free will, pregnancy and childbirth, stupid levels of fluff at the end, which I meant to write all along.

You had worn many hats through the years: Daughter, Friend, Orphan, Hunter, Cousin, Fraud, Thief, Prisoner, Girlfriend, and now Wife. But nothing held the power of who you were like looking into his eyes.

This was it, this is what it meant to be insane, possibly feral. It was beyond reason, beyond anger or fear. It was a desperate, frustrating lack of control. The moment she came into the room you snarled at the woman. Prim and proper and utterly infuriating.

God, you wanted to snap her neck. That thought stopped you in your tracks, rank air pulled through your nostrils as you tried to get back to yourself. It would have been easier, if you weren’t still bleeding from the gunshot to your calf.

“We seem to have started off on the wrong foot. Understandably, a woman must defend her home,” she driveled on. “Now, we came to bring in the Winchesters, but you don’t really count.”

She paced in front of you, crisp suit unsullied from the dingy basement. You tried to remember what her partner or partners looked like, they couldn’t be very far. She hadn’t be the one to drag you in, let alone Sam. Sam. Where had they taken him?!

Your mind flitted through the chances of an escape, for either of you, while she prattled on.

“You know those boys stir up trouble wherever they go. We can help you. Give you a fresh start,” Toni attempted to give you a reassuring smile.

“Who do you think you are, lady? If you think I am going to turn on either of them, you are clearly not as smart as you look,” you spat out, chills racking your body, accentuating every aching joint bound by unforgiving knots.

“Give it time, some bacteria growth, and you’ll be crippled. Not much for hunting by then. I wonder what happens to those too weak to keep up?” She eyed you suspiciously. Then continued with breathy exasperation, “I’ll be back. Maybe then we can talk about where your loyalties lie.”

You woke to the sound of Sam’s screams, muffled and haunting. Lips chapped and with barely enough strength to lift your head you called back.

“Sam! Sam! Don’t--- don’t let her win! You hear me?!”

He broke off suddenly, the fear and rage resurfacing as you came back to your surroundings. Your head throbbed and you realized someone must have gagged him or knocked him out. You counted your own shallow breaths waiting for them to do the same to you.

The pain in your leg had changed, slowly you were able to squirm to see that they had sewn you up. The fact that you had been unconscious long enough for them to do any number of things to you made your empty stomach clench. You waited for the British Barbie to return as you worked through your options.

No one had come for you, despite the obvious rounds of torture Sam had endured. You sat and waited, pain and thirst battling for your attention as you tried to undo the ropes at your bleeding wrists. Suddenly a very different sound was pulled from Sam’s throat, a moan so specific that you finally lost the acid that had been building in your gut.

What the hell was going on?

You started to spiral, possibilities of what was to come scaring you more than anything else had ever before. As you slipped into unconsciousness once more, you started to dread waking back up.

Everything blurred, one moment you saw Sam’s face bloody and alarmed then Dean’s barking over the backseat. Cas’s voice was stern, but you couldn’t understand why he was so insistent.

Then there was a woman’s voice, one that was as soothing as it was foreign.

The air around you was clinically comfortable. The morning light slanted as it peeked through the vertical blinds, you were still tied down, but these were very different bindings. The I.V. and heart rate monitor kept you on a short leash. Sam’s snoring at your bedside the only thing that told you this was real. The sight of your husband so mutilated brought tears to your eyes.

The fact that you were in the hospital bed when he wasn’t told you how bad you must have been.

You cleared your throat, mouth sour and voice hoarse. Sam startled awake, wincing as he adjusted in the vinyl chair.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His hand snaked over the rail and grabbed yours, heavy and familiar.

“How you feelin’?” Sam asked, brow pitched.

“Surprisingly not bad. Why am I here, Sam? Couldn’t Cas---,” you started.

Sam cut you off, “He said it was best to bring you in, you were really dehydrated and needed two blood transfusions.”

“What about you?” You tried to sit up, brushing your fingers over the places where you remembered he had been bleeding.

“I’m fine. Cas took care of me. Listen, Baby, the reason Cas insisted you got to the hospital is, well,” Sam cleared his throat and cocked his head, debating on what to say next.

“Because I’m pregnant,” you answered.

“You knew?” Sam gaped, floundering so much that you almost laughed in his face.

You nod. “The world was ending, I wasn’t sure it was going to last. And couldn’t put something else out there to worry about.”

“You still could have told me.” Sam sniffed, the news overtaking him in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“I know, and I’m sorry,” you breathed out, gripping Sam’s forearm as you braced yourself for reality. “Am I still? Did we lose--,”

“Hey, it’s okay, you are. The doctor had strong and steady heartbeats from both of you.” Sam smiled down at you as he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

“Is it bad that I don’t know how I feel about it yet?” You asked nervously, praying he wouldn’t judge you for your honesty.

He barely even hesitated, bless him.

“Of course not. The lives we lead, this is going to take some adjusting. For all of us. But if you’re in this, I’ll be right there beside you,” Sam gave you a watery smile. “Alright?”

You nodded and leaned in to give him a simple kiss, lingering in the calm of sharing his oxygen.

“Sam?” You asked. He hummed in reply. “Who was the woman in the car with us on the way here? I don’t remember seeing her, just a voice.”

“Well, apparently Amara decided Dean needed something in return for him, I don’t know, reconciling her and Chuck, God, whatever. So she, uh, she brought back my mom.”

Being benched after the Brits kidnapping you was understandable, your body and psyche needed a breather. But now it was getting frustrating.

“Sorry, pregnant chicks don’t get to hunt, not on my cases,” Dean tossed you one of his petulant company smiles.

“You’re being ridiculous! I’m barely showing, no one needs to know,” you argued with your stubborn brother-in-law as Sam and Castiel shared apprehensive looks behind Dean’s back.

“Yeah, well, I know. Look, I get it, you can take care of yourself. But this is big, alright? If Lucifer gets wind that Sam’s got a fresh meat suit on the way,” Dean puffed himself up to unload on you.

“That’s enough, Dean,” Cas chided.

Sam was visibly stunned by Dean’s comment, the possibility of Lucifer using you or your baby made him recoil with disgust.

Of course you hadn’t thought of that. Vessels were linked by bloodlines, you carried a part of the fallen archangel’s true vessel. As you processed the gravity of what Dean was saying, Sam seemed to slump with guilt.

“Oh, god,” he said underneath his breath.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’ll stay back on this one,” you tried to reassure him.

“I didn’t even think--- you have to be careful. I mean it, until Lucifer is back in the cage or dead, none of us are safe.” His hands latched onto your hips, thumbs rubbing tight circles over your growing belly.

You pulled his jaw up to look him in the eye, the man you trusted beyond all others, the love of your life, your rock.

“We will be fine, Sam. Go do what needs doing and come home safe. All of you.” You looked to Dean whose jaw was set in agreement. You nodded to Cas and leaned up to kiss Sam goodbye.

It hurt to watch them go where you couldn’t help keep them safe. But you had a different job to do now and it just kept getting bigger.

Days turned into weeks and there were no leads on Sam or Dean. Mary and Cas were doing everything they could, but nothing would ease your anguish until you had answers.

Your body continued to grow, the constant reminder that time progressing was just one more thing beyond your control.

The fear of raising your baby alone increased with each passing day.

Jody called out of the blue and a tidal wave of emotions hit you. You had a village, even if they were widespread. You could do this if you had to. You would do whatever it took to keep your family safe, even if it meant eventually having to give up on finding Sam and Dean.

They charged in through the garage on a gray afternoon, gaunt and exhausted. Time, finally seemed to stop as Sam’s face flushed with relief as you ran into his arms.

“Do you know what you’re having?” Kelly Kline’s bright eyes flitted to your matching bump.

You shook your head. “Nope, decided to let it be a surprise, we aren’t really the decorating type. You?”

“Half spawn of Satan, but I feel like it’s a boy,” she teased, you appreciated her snark.

“What’s that like? Do you have to deal with wings in there along with all the kicks and elbows?” You pulled your knee up on the couch in the cabin’s small living room. Getting as comfortable as possible as you got to know Lucifer’s baby mama.

She groaned out a sigh. “Probably? Who knows? He’s growing so fast!”

You caught Castiel’s eye as the unspoken worry passed between you.

“The baby is human shaped, his wings are not corporeal on this plane,” your angel friend explained dully.

“Who needs an ultrasound when you’ve got this guy?!” you broke the awkward silence as Kelly internalized that her son, in fact, had wings.

“I’m sorry, how is it you know Castiel, Y/N?” Kelly tried to change the direction of the conversation.

“Uh, well, I’m a hunter. Do you know what I mean by that?” You offered.

“Like the Winchesters?” Her voice grew tighter as she looked to Cas to ensure she and her baby remained safe in your presence.

“Like the Winchesters. In fact I--,” you tried to ease into it.

“She is Sam’s wife, Kelly. I brought her here for you to understand that though their actions might seem extreme, they are good men,” Cas explained.

“But they’re also idiots,” you broke in. “We all have our baggage, for Sam, a lot of that baggage is Lucifer. Do you know who my husband and his brother are?”

You let your guard down, breathing through your inner defensiveness and spoke to Kelly as a civilian. Because she was still such an innocent, despite everything that had happened since Lucifer jumped into her boyfriend.

Kelly looked to Cas before shaking her head.

“Sam was Lucifer’s power suit, his true vessel. He was destined from the beginning to bring forth the apocalypse. And Dean was Michael’s. Two sets of brothers meant to end the world.”

“I don’t understand, why wasn’t he--,”

“Because Sam, and Dean, chose a different path,” Cas concluded.

“And so, I’m here to let you know that your child will be allowed to chose the right path for himself.” You sighed, feeling the weight of destiny in your words. The offer to bring her child into your family despite his parentage as a sign that the world held more good than chaos.

You didn’t know who you were reassuring more, Kelly or yourself.

It was nothing like you had expected, yet just as horrendous as you had imagined. Your muscles seized as you bore down, again. The clothed faces of the doctor and nurses were a sea of unfamiliarity. You needed Sam.

But he wasn’t there.

You groaned, trying to push harder than ever before. You had to be nearly done. You needed your baby to finally arrive so you could rest. As much as you wanted to meet them; you were exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally depleted.

“And relax,” the doctor coached. “Great job, Mrs. Campbell. Breathe.”

You nodded, mouth closed as you tried not to cry.

You had never felt so alone in your entire life, not in foster care after the wendigo had slaughtered your parents or in the years after losing Rafe. Not even the dank cell that Crowley had left you in, had you felt this terrifyingly and helplessly alone.

You were going to be a mother. And there was no one at your side. No matter how certain you were that Sam wanted to be there; he wasn’t.

Before you were ready, you were pushing through another contraction.

“Big push, keep going, that’s it, don’t stop,” the doctor’s voice was firm and insistent. You wanted to swing your machete. Or a solid baseball bat.

You screamed as your body burned, clenching and pulsing against the child inside you. You needed it out.

“That’s it, you’re doing great,” a voice like heaven broke through your anguish as Sam peeled your hand from the bedside rail.

“You prick!”

“I know,” Sam acquiesced, giving you his determined furrowed brow as the doctor regained your attention.

“Glad you could make it, Dad. Mom? We need another series of big pushes from you. Are you ready?”

“No--- I need a break--- fuck!” You felt the contraction attack your body and you couldn’t help but whimper.

“You can do this, just a few more, Baby,” Sam promised with quiet insistence.

You gave a faltering effort, which the doctor acknowledged.

“Alright, we missed that one, don’t stop again. Let’s go, big finish,” the doctor barked, her voice insanely controlled.

You were not made for the calm approach; you unleashed, grunting and pushing through as you fought with every once of strength you had left. It hurt so much suddenly you had stepped away from the moment, trying to focus on the effort without maintaining a full grasp on your body.

Your hearing muffled as your body resisted.

There was no way around this, but through it. You bucked against the stirrups and bore down one last time.

“We have a head!” The nurse exclaimed, excitement blooming in your chest.

You looked at Sam. Your tears of relief and wonder matched in his eyes. You pushed again, teeth clenched as an unholy growl escaped from deep inside you.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor cried.

You fell limp as they moved to clean up your son. Sam was called over for the cord. Somewhere in the chaos, the doctor got you through the afterbirth. Then, at long last, you were able to hold your baby.

Sam handed him to you as you adjusted to lay him flush to your chest, feeling his clammy skin to yours. He was so tiny, and warm, a wrinkled bruiser, and the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

“Ohhhhh,” you cooed through more tears. “Hey, buddy. It’s good to see you.”

You kissed his downy head, feeling peace float through you. You looked up to Sam, who remained standing, watching you with such reverence in his expression that you laughed at him.

“We did it,” you gushed.

“Nah, this one is all you,” Sam winked before he brushed his thumb over the back of the baby’s head.

“Where’s Dean?”

“He and Jack are in the waiting room,” Sam answered, not looking away from the baby’s face.

You nodded before you looked down to find the baby squirming against your breast. “Let them wait.”

Sam hummed in agreement.

“Alright, little man, this is your first lesson: driver picks the music, while carseat sleeps the whole way home. Ya got it?” Dean crooned down to your son as you snapped the last latch in place.

“That’s cute that you think I am going to let you drive him home,” you teased.

“What?! Come on, you can’t drive; I heard the doctor! You guys can ride with me and my baby! It is only right that his first car ride be in the Impala,” Dean argued. Sam sighed and Dean spun on the spot. “No, not you too.”

“There isn’t really the right kind of hook ups in the backseat, Dean,” Sam reasoned.

“Oh don’t you get all safety patrol on me now,” Dean huffed.

“I mean, we could always install some brackets----,” you started, smirking at Sam.

“I’m not even going to let you finish,” Dean cut you off. “Fine. Take your crappy import back. But Little Bobby is going to ride with me, sooner or later.”

You knew he was right. And you would have bet that Dean was already figuring out what hidden adjustments he could make without “yuppifying” his prized Chevy.

“Little Bobby?” Jack questioned, looking to Sam in confusion. Your husband just shrugged.

“What? You name my nephew Robert and don’t like it when I call him Lil Bobby?” Dean looked between you and Sam with an exasperated dead eye.

“We named him Robert Rafe John Winchester, Dean,” Sam clarified.

“We’re calling him RJ,” you finished.

“That’s nice,” Dean replied before leaning down and fist bumping your son’s little knuckles. “See ya at home, Lil Bobby. Your folks are nuts. Tough break, kid.”

“Right,” Sam chuckled as he picked up the handle on the bucket carseat, following you as the five of you made your way out of the hospital room. You walked behind Jack, who was lost in thought, as he kept up with Dean.

All your boys.

The only person missing was Mary; you felt her absence like a proverbial gray cloud hovering over your heads. There was still work to do, baby or no.

Sam and Dean wouldn’t quit until the world was safe. Their mother’s safety was only the next hurdle.

And you wouldn’t expect any less from your family. You knew your child would be protected; he didn’t need normal to be happy and healthy and neither did you.

You had everything you needed, you had your husband and your son. The hunt was out there waiting for when you were ready to get back to it.

You were complete.

Series tags: @dontshootmespence @ericaprice2008 @chucksnotonanyflatbread @reid-fiction @madlu45 @mogaruke @akshi8278 @mrswhozeewhatsis

#questions: who #spn fanfic #sam winchester fanfic #sam x reader #sam x reader series #sam angst #supernatural fanfiction #questions series #sam winchester fanfiction series #sam fluff #we're going to let uncle dean be ridiculous #we need a happy ending here okay?

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lovemesomesurveys · 4 years ago

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What’s the last vegetable you ate, and when did you eat it? I had spinach in my homemade egg and cheese mcmuffin yesterday.

What was your last Facebook notification for? Notifying me someone added a photo to a group I’m in.

What bands have you seen live? Several because a few of the concerts I’ve been to featured a few bands, which was cool. I don’t feel like listing them all.

Tell me an interesting fact about your mother: She wanted to go into the marines, but unfortunately life happened and her plans got put on hold and ultimately never happened. That was her dream. :/

What do you think is the most important thing to happen to you before the age of 13? Uhh. The accident I had at 7 months old that made me a paraplegic and changed my life forever?

What were you super against as a young child but aren’t anymore? Scary movies. I love ‘em now.

What are your plans later today? Stay in bed most of the day sleeping, watching TV, scrolling through Tumblr, watching YouTube, and checking my social medias.

Are you doing anything exciting this weekend? It’s the weekend and that’s all I’m doing ^^^.

Who do you talk to the most? My mom.

What are some things you do regularly that make you feel old? I feel old because of how I feel, health wise.

Who is your best guy friend(s)? I don’t have one.

Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker? I’d like to be a little tanner.

If you had a tiny scar on your face, would you get it removed or just keep it? I do have some tiny scars on my face and I just let them be.

Have you had an x-ray in the past year? Yes.

Do you think your first love still loves you? He never did.

What is something that is “going right” in your life? I’ve been going through a really hard time the past month, actually.

When did you feel ready to start dating? I thought I was when I had my first boyfriend at 16, but nope.

When was the last time your pet bit you? If you don’t have a pet, have you ever been bitten by someone else’s? She’s never bitten me.

Where were you the last time you made out? I think it was in his car. It’s been several years now since then, so I’m not quite sure.

When was the last time you cried tears of joy? I’m not someone who tends to cry for that reason.

How do you type your sad smileys? :(

Do you have “decorative hand-towels” that cannot be used in your house? Nope.

What was the last soda you drank? I had some Coke to take my medicine earlier.

What was the last thing someone made fun of you for? *shrug*

Have you ever had any type of surgery? Yeah, a few.

Should kids be allowed to get tattoos/piercings without parental consent? Uh, no.

Who was the last person to hit on you? It’s been a longgg time since that has happened.

What was the last thing you decided not to do, that you were supposed to? I was supposed to make a phone call yesterday.

What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to tell someone? Hm.

What do you put on hot dogs? On the very rare occasions I had a hot dog I just put ketchup and mustard.

Ever fallen in the shower? No, thankfully.

Do you think that things will get better? I can’t see that right now. :/

Have you ever legitimately saved a person’s life? No.

What’s your favourite book genre? Murder mysteries and psychological thrillers.

Have you ever walked out of a movie at the theatre? Once. I honestly don’t remember why, though.

Do dogs like you? Yes.

Would you say that you project an air of authority? Ha, no.

Have you ever jumped off a high dive into a pool? Nooo.

Do you use one towel when you shower or two? (one for hair, one for body) One.

Have you ever been to one of the great lakes? Nope.

Who do you know that had a baby recently? A few people on my Facebook.

Do you like Usher’s songs? Yeah, I like several of his songs.

When was the last time you went to a waterpark? Never. I don’t do waterslides.

Have you ever ridden a train? Nope.

What do you eat your French fries with? Ranch.

Do you have family problems? No family is perfect.

What’s the last food you ate that was stale? Hm. I don’t recall.

How do you like your grilled cheese? Cheesy.

What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? The only thing I cook is ramen, which isn’t challenging at all. I’m so not a cook. What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? I lovedddd playing Barbies.

Have you ever been close to drowning? No, but that’s a fear of mine since I can’t swim so even with floaties or an inner tube I don’t feel safe.

Have you ever had a panic attack? Many times.

Do you like doing housework? No.

Would you ever get implants? No.

Do you own a robe? Nope. I have a Snuggie, though.

Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? Nope.

Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off? No, I just eat the top layer of dough on the pizza.

What was the last song you listened to? I don’t remember.

Have any of your family members been to jail? No one in my immediate family, but some extended family members have.

Is there anyone that you feel you still need some closure with? Not anymore.

Can you remember when you first learned how to read? Not exactly.

What event in your life has transformed your personality the most? I’m sure my accident had a big impact.

Have you ever had any teeth pulled? Yes.

Do you still want to be what you wanted to be in elementary school? Noo. Back then I wanted to be a teacher, but that changed when I got to like middle school.

What’re some TV shows that you would like to get into? I have a list of new shows I want to check out, but I have yet to get around to. Oh, I did start this new show on Freeform called “Cruel Summer” that just started last week, though.

How would you feel if you were drafted for the military? I can’t due to my physical disability.

What is your favorite Queen song? I like Bohemian Rhapsody, Under Pressure, We Will Rock You/We are the Champions, and Another One Bites the Dust.

Do you know how to use any foreign currency? I’ve never had to.

Been kissed by someone who you knew was “bad” for you? You could say that.

Ever taken an at-home pregnancy test? Nope. Never had a reason to.

When was the last time you were at a loss of what to do? The past few years. Now.

What did you do on your favorite date with a guy/girl? I loved going to Starbucks and then wandering around bookstores with Ty.

What’s a movie you have seen in the theater more than once? There’s several, like the big ones I’m really excited about and into such as the Marvel movies.

What is the reason you’re still alive? My family.

Have you ever had sex in someone else’s bed/bedroom? No.

Do you ever brush your hair before you go to bed? Not usually.

Have you ever had a dream about sleeping with a celebrity? (You don’t have to give details.) Maaaybe.

Has anyone ever told you that they needed you? Do you think they meant it? Yes, I’ve been told that. I think they did feel that way at the time.

How did you feel when you woke up today? What was the first thing you thought about? I haven’t gone to bed, yet, but I always wake up feeling shitty.

Do you still tell your parents that you love them? Yes.

Have you ever said “I love you” to someone you weren’t going out with? Well yeah, it’s not something you just say in the romantic sense. I love my family and tell them so.

Would you date someone with a physical disability? Yeah. I have a physical disability.

Think of the last person you had sex with. Do you think they’ve slept with anyone else since they last slept with you? I’m a virgin.

The last time you dyed your hair, what color did you dye it? Red.

Think of the last time you went out to eat. Who paid? My mom.

Do you save at least 15 percent of your income? I try to at least.

Do you ever go on Reddit? If so, what are some of your favorite subreddits? I’ve Googled things that led me to Reddit, but I don’t go on there specifically.

Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little? Nope.

Are your parents in good health? Fortunately, yes.

Have you ever been a caregiver to a sick/disabled relative? Nope. I’m the one who has the caregiver.

Is there any type of medicine you can’t take? For what reason? Well, I can’t take pills unless I can crush them.

Do you have a favorite pair of pajamas? What do they look like? My pajamas are also what I wear during the day, which are leggings and graphic tees.

Do you have any interesting pillow cases? I have a Michael Myers throw pillow, a couple other Halloween (the holiday) themed ones with skeletons and stuff on ‘em that I’ve had up since last Halloween, a Star Wars one, and a body pillow with giraffe print.

If something on your body hurts, which part is it most likely to be? My back, stomach, neck.

Are you more afraid of spiders or bees? Spiders, but I’m afraid of both. I’m afraid of ALL bugs.

Have you ever worn fake nails? If so, what did the last pair you wore look like? No.

Is Russian or Native American history more interesting to you? Various topics in history are interesting to me.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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terminally-karkalicious · 4 years ago

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allow me to rant about the only thing that has been in my brain for the past two months and that is doll customizing babeyyyyy

i know there’s a 90% chance that you wont give a Shit about any of this but here we go anyways

SO first you gotta choose a doll. preferably one with a high range of motion to avoid creating new joints or having annoying limitations like not having elbow joints for some fucking reason. what the fuck mattel. give monster high dolls back their ball jointed shoulders and elbow joints. smh

the most common dolls ive seen used as bases are monster high and ever after high. most customs ive seen are highly stylized so the stylized face molds work well for those types of dolls but dolls like barbies are good for when you want a more realistic face-ups.

once you’ve got your base picked out you gotta wipe that bitch’s face off with like. acetone or nail polish remover or something strong like that. you can also use acetone to shrink doll heads which is cool as hell imo. n e way once the face is wiped you gotta chop off the hair and remove the hair plugs from the inside. ive seen this done several ways but the easiest and most common way ive seen is to dunk the head into boiling water for ~30 seconds until it gets squishy and malleable. once you’ve got the head back, you can use pliers (i think tweezers would work in a pinch) to pull out the hair plugs which are kinda icky because theyre covered in glue and other gross shit. ew

now you must decapitate the doll. dunk em back in the boiling water to soften them back up then just tug the head off. the neck pegs look funky and are usually a different color than the body so thats cool ig

once the head’s off, you can start the face-up which is basically just giving the doll a new face using stuff like watercolor pencils, acrylic paint, gouache, and a whole lot of other stuff. hell ive seen people use person makeup on these dolls.

next,,,,, hair. there’s about twenty million ways to do hair from gluing yarn wefts to sewing to rerooting with purchased nylon doll hair or yarn wefts but i’m gonna talk about the most common one ive seen which is rerooting and gluing.

before you can reroot, you need doll hair. which, as i mentioned, can be bought at stores like the doll planet or made at home with yarn in literally any color. have fun with it! make rainbow hair or something idk

to make homemade wefts, you take some acrylic yarn, cut it twice as long as you want the hair to be (keep in mind you can cut and style the hair once it’s been rerooted), fold them in half, and tie it to something sturdy like a wire coat hanger for the next step.

once you’ve got your yarn tied to your hanger, use a pet brush and brush the yarn until it’s wispy and looks like hair. then take a straightening iron and iron the weft flat. then remove from the hanger and boom. hair wefts. ta-da

to reroot the wefts onto the head, use a rerooting tool (which can be as simple as a needle with the eye cut at angle) (just google it please i’m shit at descriptions)) to poke small sections of the hair into the head. you can use the pre-existing rooting holes for your own reroot as they’re usually pretty reliable. to reroot, take a small length of you doll hair (about 10-15 strands), loop it in half, and put the middle of the loop into the reroot tool. poke the end of the tool with the hair on it into the pre-existing hole and remove the tool. the hair *should* stay in and fill up that plug!! also remember to plug thickly at the hairline and part of the hair where it's most noticeable. it doesnt matter as much in the center of the head as that’s not usually visible on the doll. once you’ve rerooted, squeeze in strong glue through the neck hole and squish around the head to make sure it covers all the plugs and secures them in place. then pour hot water onto the head to make the hair lay flat for styling later.

also, you can reroot yarn directly into the head to make thicker, more textured hairstyles. and since the yarn is thicker, you dont need to glue the inside of the head for the hair to stay in place!!

if youre not doing body modifications (which are also cool as hell) then it’s time for clothes but clothes are boring and i like body mods more so i’m gonna rant about them instead

the material ive seen most doll artists use is apoxie sculpt, which is like play doh on steroids. it comes in two parts which you gotta mix together for some reason. why dont they sell it pre-mixed. what was the reason. also once it’s dry it’s super super strong and you can sand it, drill into it, paint it, and all kinds of stuff. very nice and i want some for myself.

you can use hand saws and drills and shit to whack off doll limbs to make stuff like digitigrade legs or new joints. also dont be afraid to use other mismatching doll parts when customizing like heads and bodies and forearms and hands and shit. it literally does not matter if youre gonna recolor the doll anyways so have fun with it. make frankenstein’s doll if youre feeling spicy

accessories my beloved. stuff like tiny beads and clay baubles and shit will literally transform the entire doll plus they’re adorable and multi-purpose

i suppose i must talk about clothes now. ah well. you can find great clothing patterns if youre new to customizing on other customizer’s etsy shops and probably google although those will probably be lower quality than paid pattern pieces. and keep in mind that if it exists as clothing irl, you can likely make it doll-sized. there are literally no limits to your clothing options as long as you can execute your idea.

the once all your components have been made, you can assemble the doll again!! and finally see what all the parts look like together!! very cool 10/10 stars.

ight that wraps up my doll rant. i could really go into more detail on certain parts but thats a whole other rant for a whole other day smh. sorry for fucking flooding your inbox ender ahaha……………. you asked for this

little did you know that dolls have been one of my favorite things since like ever. if i can read a 25 chapter long fanfic i can read this B)

mattel definitely fucked up by completely ruining MH doll designs and just stopping EAH, alot of their profits most likely came from people who collect and customize dolls and by changing MH doll designs/Stopping EAH dolls they 1. most likely lost a small (or big if we're not jus talking people who customize dolls) part of their profit and 2. made it harder for doll customizers to make dolls/get commissions out rather quickly because they probably have to waste more time making joints or learning how to make joints.

EAH/MH dolls (specifically MH dolls) had AMAZING MODELS because there was so much variety with height, face shapes, etc (my favorite molds had to be the short/tall dolls and the cat molds because of the tails) and doll customizers really went all out with enhancing a molds unique features. The only "downside" abt MH dolls is that they (or atleast most)(from what i remember)) had slimmer faces but wider eyes while EAH dolls have wider faces with slimmer smaller which left a canvas for the face and not the eyes (and vice versa for MH dolls)

I've never seen any videos where a barbie is customized (maybe because i absolutely despised barbies at the time) so I'll definitely have to check those out but they seem to be good for realistic makeovers. I've seen like like semi realistic makeovers for EAH/MH dolls that were pretty good too tho (pretty sure mostly EAH dolls since yk MH dolls were used for creature makeovers while most EAH dolls weren't)

yeah i was always amazed by the head shrinking with acetone. honestly i still am?? idunno i have no idea how that chemical bullshit works. Ive seen a few of uh makeovers that just pain over the face (in multiple layers ofcourse) but that's usually when they're painting the entire body a different colour (again usually when they're turning a doll into a funky little baby man). I've also seen a few that just chop the hair off and take out the hair plugs yk without uuh like softening the head or just go straight for the hair plugs after taking off the head (i used to do that it was funny to me??). i always really liked when they used watercolour pencils or just colour pencils in general to draw/sketch on the face cause like wow ur drawing on ur doll without ruining it?? kinda epic maybe even poggers and pogchamp?? oh god my brain is failing wjshsmsj.

Watching them putting the hair back on the doll was, other than the face stuff, was the BEST part for me. Favorite type of hair was iuuuuuh was either thick yarn or brushed out yarn. Literally worship the people that would reroot the hair, theyre the most patience people on this earth!! it's literally insane but i guess that's what happens when you've been doing that for years? you guess kinda get used to it. when they put glue into the head does it just become stiff?? like it's just a clump of dried glue or does it like..hollow out again??

dude you literally cannot convince me most of the supplies used for doll makeovers. APOXIE CLAY LOOKS SO FECKING GOOD. its edible and i will die on that hill. The body mods are literally so amazing!!!!! it's so impressive how theyre able to imagine certain features THEN LIKE ACTUALLY MAKE IT LOOK ACCURATE TO WHAT THEY WANTED TO LOOK LIKE AFTER LIKE ON TRY (or many yk trial and error is very necessary for..everything). Absolutely loved when doll customizers would saw off a dolls legs and use different ones or just completely get rid of the torso to use a different one. it's like uuh that one big guy that's mismatched and sewn together. very cool. The accessories are so fun!! just small little details you seen really need but can add because it's your feckin doll!! I used to be absolutely obsessed over the doll clothes i would find on etsy, so much so that i started sewing shitty shirts and dresses for my uh "customized" dolls (they were absolute HORRORS idk WHY my mom let me feck up my dolls like that).

Thank you for this!! i haven't been able to talk about any of my interests for a while and this just really made me happy!!

Question fer u my fellow MH/EAH enthusiast: what was your favorite MH/EAH movie/episode and doll series. Mine was The fusion dolls (MH obvi) and that MH movie "Haunted" cause we got to know more about Spectra :D

#YOOOO LONG POST?!#long post #:) hehehe #this was very fun to read cant wait for ur next fanfic length ask #asks :D #theoreticallyjasper

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oldies-enthusiast · 5 years ago

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She’s A Sensation: Ch. 1 | Marty McFly x reader

A/N: Hey guys! So basically, I’m in the middle of one of my many BTTF marathons & since I’m clearly In The Mood™️, I decided to bless your feed with some Marty McFly content.

The name of the band in this story is inspired by my favourite band, Psihomodo Pop from Zagreb, Croatia & their song Sexy Magazin.

Have a great day! —Ally xx

Chapter 2

For as long as you can remember, you’ve loved music with inexplicable passion. Some of your earliest memories involve blasting out The Sweet’s Ballroom Blitz on your old radio & jamming out to it with your dad. Your parents noticed you had talent when you would sing or hum absent-mindedly while dressing up your Barbie dolls or playing outside.

You got your first guitar at the age of 13, but your parents couldn’t afford guitar lessons as well. You spent that whole summer saving up for the lessons & finding all sorts of ways to make money, which sounds easier than it was for a 13-year-old, though. Most of the time you would walk dogs for other people, mow their lawns or babysit little kids when needed. Old ladies were especially fond of you & made sure to pay you a dollar or two extra when you carried groceries for them. It wasn’t the hardest work, but it definitely was a fair responsibility given how young you were.

On the other hand, you’d been dreaming of playing the guitar for years beforehand and that’s why you were so determined.

When the day of your first lesson arrived, you were ecstatic. Playing the guitar turned out to be a lot more difficult than you’d thought it was going to be, but your enthusiasm never subsided. It required talent, patience & hard work, and you had it all. You got better and better with each day.

Sophomore year of high school you made friends with some cool guys who liked punk and glam metal and you started playing together soon after. At first, it was only for fun. You would goof around on your instruments pretending you were Iggy Pop or Joan Jett; at parties people would sometimes ask you to play something & that was when you first realized that as a group, you sounded really good. By the end of the school year, you were officially a band.

Your main influences were the Ramones & Alice Cooper. First you started as a cover band and soon began to write and play your own stuff. You’d been searching for a proper band name for weeks before you agreed to be called Sexy Magazine. The main theme you represented combined proto-punk style with shock rock elements. What you actually were was intimidating, and that’s how you chose the name—you really wanted to shock people.

One morning, you saw the announcement for the rock band audition at your school. You knew that with the name you had and songs you played you wouldn’t even stand a goddamn chance. After all, the school was looking for a group that would play at the upcoming dance and there was no way in hell a bunch of punks singing taboo shit would win—which was exactly why you signed up. All four of you thought it would be hilarious to walk up on stage and see how long it would take the judges to cut off the ultimate atrocity that you were.

On the day of the audition, you arrived somewhat early because you wanted to take a look at other bands. While you were hanging around, checking out the music and waiting for your name to be called, some cute guy in denim brushed hurriedly past you, slipping his guitar strap over one shoulder and heading to the front. His bandmates were already onstage. He walked up to the microphone, cleared his throat and said:

“We’re, uh... We’re The Pinheads.”

The Ramones’ Pinhead immediately started playing in your head and within an instant, all your attention was on those guys.

You were surprised to find out they weren’t going to play any Ramones. Instead, they started playing a thing you quickly recognized—it was The Power Of Love by Huey Lewis & The News.

And actually, they sounded amazing.

If this was a fair, honest-to-God rock band audition, these guys would make for some serious competition, you thought to yourself.

To your complete and utter shock, the judge stood up with a loudspeaker and cut them off within the first guitar riff. You couldn’t believe your ears.

Too darn loud?? It was a rock band audition, for crying out loud! Since when’s rock ‘n’ roll supposed to be soft?

The guy in denim looked disappointed. He quickly gathered his stuff and descended.

You honestly felt sorry for them because they sounded great and didn’t even get a proper chance. After that, it was almost final: you weren’t going to make it past five seconds on that stage, but you decided to go for it anyway.

You had agreed to play a song you wrote together called The Midnight Hour, which was basically the Cinderella story full of more or less subtle dirty references. You did have butterflies in your stomach despite the fact that you were there just for kicks. But as soon as you grabbed the mic and started singing, the feeling faded away—it was like an instant transformation.

You didn’t even notice how far into the song you’ve come and before you knew it, it was over and people were cheering, their voices snapping you back to reality. You exchanged incredulous glances with your friends, your breath caught in your throat. Even the judges seemed impressed. In fact, you saw the one with the glasses whisper something to the guy next to him, who nodded and immediately turned to the rest of them.

You thought it was all a joke. You couldn’t believe they’d let you play in the first place! This was the exact opposite of what you’d planned on doing. As much as you hated to admit it, you felt a wave of excitement wash over you as you watched the audience applauding with joy.

You sticked around for a short while afterwards and pretty soon the judges arose from their seats and signaled for everyone to gather around. They’d apparently decided on the winner.

“All right, everybody. Thank you all for participating. Your effort is appreciated. To be fair, we had a tough time choosing among so many great groups...”

A couple of kids exchanged amused looks and you heard faint snickering somewhere behind you. This guy talked like he was an actual game show host. It was ridiculous.

“...Congratulations to...”, he trailed off, taking a breath. When he spoke at last, it seemed as though he didn’t say, but spat out: “Sexy Magazine!”

Your bandmates started laughing in disbelief. You couldn’t seem to wrap your mind around what had just happened.

We won? Us?! We are going to play at the dance?

A couple of kids came up to you to say congrats and tell you they’d really enjoyed the show. Some dude you recognized from earlier who looked as if he was high all of the time, the lead singer of some mediocre blues rock band, gave you a slow nod and a high-five and then proceeded to disappear somewhere in the crowd.

You turned around, searching the room for a specific face, but not his. You were trying to spot the one in denim, the Pinhead.

He was standing on the other end of the hall with his back to you, packing up his guitar. You pushed your way through the crowd, trying to reach him before he left. He unexpectedly turned around just as you were going to tap him on the shoulder.

“Hi”, you said, pulling your arm back.

He started, his brows furrowed. “Oh, uh... Hey.”

You wondered how come you hadn’t realized he had such beautiful eyes. Up close, he looked much more handsome than you’d thought at first.

“So, uh, I guess I just wanted to tell ya that I saw you play and you were really good. I mean, you sounded almost like Huey Lewis himself!”

You swore you saw a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he scratched his head nervously, shifting from one foot to the other.

“Well, thanks, but, uh... We didn’t play much, to be fair.”

“I know! I was really pissed when they cut you off like that. And then they let us play!”

He smiled uneasily and you thought he didn’t believe you.

“I’m not trying to sell you that fake modesty bullshit, I really think you guys were awesome. I was so angry they made you stop before the first verse. I wish I’d been able to hear you sing.”

His smile now grew bigger and more sincere as he locked his eyes on yours.

“Thank you”, he said, “it really means a lot. And, well, uh, congrats to you... I mean, you rocked that stage for real!”

You chuckled, feeling your cheeks redden all of a sudden. “Thanks! My name’s [Y/N], by the way.”

He shook your hand with a grin. “Nice to meet you, [Y/N]. I’m Marty, Marty McFly.”

The warm look in his eyes made your heart flutter. He was clumsy in a cute sort of way. He’d almost dropped his guitar case when he took your hand, which made you both laugh awkwardly.

“I ought to join my friends now, but it’s been real nice talking to you. I guess I’ll see you around, then”, you said, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, sure thing. Thanks again. See you around, [Y/N]!”, he smiled and waved before he left.

You turned slowly and walked back over to your bandmates, trying to hide how flustered you were. His eyes and his laugh were the only things you could think about at that moment.

Marty? Such a nice name...

215 notes · View notes

saiilorstars · 5 years ago

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Stars Dance

Ch. 16: The Imaginary Fairy Tale Man

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor x Original Female Character

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Chapter summary: Big Bang Two is coming! The Doctor’s plans will hopefully restore the world and give Avalon and Amy their rightful lives back but before that, of course, Avalon remembers what else she’s forgotten.

(Previous chapters)

Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

Amelia Pond was knelt down on the side of her bed, praying just like she tended to do every night as of late. "Dear Santa, thank you for the dolls and pencils and the fish. It's Easter now, so I hope I didn't wake you. But honest, it is an emergency. There's a crack in my wall..." she opened one eye to look at the crack on her bedroom wall. Even just looking at it gave her a tingle on her back, a scary tingle. "Aunt Sharon says it's just an ordinary crack, but... I know it's not-"

"-cos it's not," another voice cut into Amelia's prayer. "There's voices on the other side. So, it's not a regular crack."

Amelia opened both her eyes to look at her friend, Avalon Reynolds, sitting on her bed and brushing a Barbie doll's hair. "Then how come you don't back me up when I tell aunt Sharon?"

Avalon put the Barbie doll down and looked at the crack. She tilted her head at it, letting her curly ginger locks fall to one side. "Because we're just kids. No one is going to believe that the crack isn't normal. My parents don't."

"But you're their little girl," Amelia insisted, "The only girl they've got, only child. Maybe if you kept insisting," Amelia sighed.

"They think it's another story," Avalon returned her attention to her Barbie. She didn't bother about the crack anymore because every time she brought it up, her parents told her to leave it alone. A stupid crack wasn't worth the lectures about keeping a low profile and it definitely wasn't worth the time-outs. So what if there were voices behind the crack - they weren't getting out anyways.

The sound of a gushing wind interrupted little Avalon's thoughts and made both girls hurry to the window. They looked out to the garden and saw nothing outside.

Amelia looked up at the moon in the sky and frowned. "Do you ever feel like something's missing up there?" she asked.

"Dunno," Avalon shrugged, looking up to the empty sky. Only the moon was there to illuminate the darkness. "I think there needs to be stars up there. Like the Star cults. Something is missing and barely anyone realizes it," she moved back to Amelia's bed and resumed brushing the Barbie doll's hair.

Amelia looked between the empty sky and Avalon, more inclined to believe her friend than anyone else as Avalon always had a knack for saying the right things when no one else could.

But then again, everyone also thought Avalon just made stories up a lot. She liked fairy tales, so maybe the stars were part of her fantasy worlds.

~ 0 ~

A couple days later, Amelia was once again forced to see a psychiatrist due to her belief in stars. Her aunt Sharon had, had enough and called in the woman, Christine, to try and get some sense into Amelia.

Right now, Christine was studying a painting Amelia had made of the night sky, "It's a lovely painting, Amelia. And what are all these?" she pointed at the yellow stars on Amelia's painting.

"Stars," Amelia shrugged.

Her aunt Sharon, who sat beside Christine, bowed her head with a deep sigh, "Oh, Amelia!"

Christine made a motion with her hand for Sharon to calm, "Tell you what, shall we go outside?" she suggested to them.

The two adult women brought Amelia to the backyard where they made her look up at the sky.

"What do you see, Amelia?" Christine asked her.

"The moon," she saw the big, bright gray moon lighting up the dark sky.

"And what else?"

"Just the dark."

"But no stars," Christine made sure to emphasize that, "If there were stars up there, we'd be able to see them, wouldn't we? Amelia, look at me," she turned Amelia to face her, "You know this is all just a story, don't you? You know there's no such thing as stars."

"But my friend Avalon says it could be!" Amelia shook her head and went inside the house, irritated that no one understood her like Avalon did.

After being sent to bed, Amelia laid on her bed and listened to her aunt and Christine talking about her 'issue'. Amelia got out of bed and made her way to the staircase, staying just at the top where she could hear the adults talking clearer.

"It's quite common, actually. Throughout history, people have talked about stars in the sky," Christine was saying, "God knows where it comes from."

"I just don't want her growing up and joining one of those Star Cults," Sharon said back, "I don't like that Avalon Reynolds very much. She keeps putting these crazy ideas in Amelia's head," she sighed.

Amelia frowned when she heard her aunt speaking about Avalon. No one seemed to like the fact that Avalon was different than other little girls. She said odd things, Amelia was the first to admit, but it wasn't automatically bad. Avalon did make some sense when it came to the stars and the cracks. Amelia knew Avalon had to be right in some sense, and that's why she continued being friends despite the reluctance of everyone else.

Just as Amelia moved to return to her bedroom, she heard something at the front door and saw a slip of paper being skid through the letter slot on the door. Amelia ran down the stairs and picked up the paper off the floor, seeing it was a brochure for the National Museum. She opened it up and saw one of the attractions of the museum, a Pandorica box or something, had been circled in red ink. And, on the back, Amelia saw a note reading, 'Come along, Pond' for her.

~ 0 ~

As much as Amelia had insisted to Avalon that they should both go to the museum together and see who and what had requested for Amelia to go, Avalon refused. She knew Amelia's aunt didn't really like her that much and preferred to stay away for the day. So, Amelia had gone to the National Museum with her aunt and had gone straight to the Pandorica room where the box laid in all its glory. She'd managed to slip away from her aunt and saw another note on the Pandorica, also written in the same red ink from the brochure, telling her to stick around. She ended up hiding in a nearby exhibit, successfully avoiding her aunt who had been searching for her all over the museum, going as far as making an announcement over the tannoy of the building to get her to come out.

When it was safe to come out, Amelia emerged from the exhibit she'd been hiding in and headed back into the Pandorica room. She went under the cord around the box and removed the note left for her. She placed a palm on the box and looked at it, gasping when he started glowing a bright green. She quickly moved back as the box started opening up. She covered her eyes as a blinding white light took over the room.

Once the light died down, Amelia looked again just as the box finished opening and came face to face with her older self, "Okay, kid. This is where it gets complicated," Amy took a breath.

~ 0 ~

In the Past...

Rory, the Plastic Centurion who'd managed to stay alive after the fiasco with other soldiers, had opened up the Pandorica with the Doctor's screwdriver, given to him by a future Doctor.

"How did you do that?" the current Doctor was staring at Rory in amazement.

"You gave me this," Rory waved the screwdriver in his hand.

"No, I didn't," the Doctor stepped out of the Pandorica and pulled out his own screwdriver to show he wasn't lying.

"You did. Look at it."

The Doctor held his screwdriver to the one Rory held and both men flinched as the two screwdrivers sparked, "Temporal energy. Same screwdriver, at different points in its own time stream. Which means it was me who gave it to you," the Doctor smiled, "Me from the future. I've got a future, that's nice," his eyes wandered behind Rory to see the remains of the enemies that'd locked him up, "That's not," he pointed at a Dalek.

"Yeah," Rory had ignored the creatures as they were a bit spooky, "What are they?"

"History has collapsed. Whole races have been deleted from existence. These are just like after-images. Echoes, fossils in time. The footprints of the never-were."

"Er, what does that mean?"

"Total event collapse. The universe literally never happened."

"So, how can we be here? What's keeping us safe?"

"Nothing," the Doctor shrugged as he took a better look around the room, "Eye of the storm, that's all. We're just the last light to go out. Amy. Where's Amy?"

~ 0 ~

Rory had brought the Doctor to Amy's body above ground, a blanket covering her, "I killed her," he shuddered a breath at his words. He hadn't meant to, it was literally in his programming to do so. He was Rory now, he was, but what ever had brought him back had been in control and that was what forced him to shoot...and unfortunately Amy had payed the price.

"Oh, Rory," the Doctor sighed, not too surprised of it.

"Doctor, what am I?" Rory dared to ask, needing to know what made him shoot his own fiancee.

"You're a Nestene duplicate. A lump of plastic with delusions of humanity," the Doctor started using the screwdriver on Amy to check for her vitals.

"But I'm Rory now. Whatever was happening, it's stopped. I'm Rory!"

"That's software talking."

Rory rolled his eyes, "Can you help her?" he moved closer, "Is there anything you can do?"

"Yeah, probably, if I had the time," the Doctor shrugged as he stood up, taking a

step over Amy's body.

"The time!?" Rory watched the man move away from them.

"All of creation has just been wiped from the sky. Do you know how many lives now never happened?" the Doctor continued his charade of indifference, "All the people who never lived? Your girlfriend isn't more important than the whole universe."

Rory marched over and whipped the Doctor around to give him a punch in the face, satisfied to see the alien knocked to the ground, "She is to me!" he shouted.

The Doctor just laughed as he stood back up, rubbing his face where he'd been punched, "Welcome back, Rory Williams! Sorry, had to be sure. Hell of a gun-arm you're packing there. Right, we need to get her downstairs. And take that look off your plastic face. You're getting married in the morning!"

Together, they'd brought Amy down the Pandorica and placed her inside the box, the screwdriver Rory had been given by the future Doctor tucked in her front pocket as had been instructed.

"So you've got a plan, then?" Rory hoped as he watched the final restrains lock on Amy.

"Bit of a plan, yeah. Memories are more powerful than you think, and Amy Pond is not an ordinary girl. Grew up with a time crack in her wall. The universe pouring through her dreams every night. The Nestenes took a memory print of her and got more than they bargained for. Like you. Not just your face, but your heart and your soul," the Doctor put his hands on either side of Amy's face and closed his eyes for a moment, "I'm leaving her a message for when she wakes up, so she knows what's happening," once finished, he stepped back and locked the ginger girl in the Pandorica.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Rory nearly pushed him again, "What are you doing?"

"Saving her," the Doctor stopped him before he did anything rash, "This is the ultimate prison. You can't even escape by dying. It forces you to stay alive."

"But she's already dead," Rory frowned.

"Mostly dead. The Pandorica can stasis-lock her that way. All it needs is a scan of her living DNA and it'll restore her."

"Where's it going to get that?"

The Doctor checked his watch, "In about 2,000 years."

"She's going to be in that box for 2,000 years?!" Rory nearly fell forwards at the answer, "What!?"

"Yeah, but we're taking a shortcut. River's vortex manipulator," the Doctor had pulled out a manipulator from River's bag and was strapping it on to his wrist, "Rubbish way to time travel, but the universe is tiny now. We'll be fine."

"So the future's still there, then?" Rory tried to wrap his mind around this wonky plan, "Our world?"

"A version of it. Not quite the one you know. Earth alone in the sky. Let's go and have a look," the Doctor held his arm out for Rory, the manipulator set to go, "You put your hand there. Don't worry, should be safe."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

The Doctor looked at the Pandorica and sighed, "She'll be fine. Nothing can get into this box."

"You got in there."

"Well, there's only one of me. I counted."

Rory couldn't find it in him to leave Amy alone and so shook his head, "This box needs a guard. I killed the last one."

"No. Rory, no. Don't even think about it," the Doctor pointed as the human moved towards the box again.

"She'll be all alone," Rory tried to say.

"She won't feel it!"

"You bet she won't!"

"2,000 years, Rory," the Doctor reminded, "You won't even sleep, you'd be conscious every second. It would drive you mad."

"Will she be safer if I stay?" Rory looked at him, dead serious, "Look me in the eye and tell me she wouldn't be safer."

"Rory..."

"Answer me!"

"Yes," the Doctor finally gave the answer, "Obviously."

"Then how could I leave her?"

"Why do you have to be so...human?" the Doctor bowed his head, not upset simply fascinated of the matter.

"Because right now, I'm not," Rory answered and walked to the other side of the Pandorica. The Doctor gave up and started setting up the manipulator.

"Listen to me. This is the last bit of advice you're going to get in a very long time. You're living plastic, but not immortal," he began his warnings, "I have no idea how long you'll last. And you're not indestructible. Stay away from heat and radio signals when they come along. You can't heal, or repair yourself. Any damage is permanent. So, for God's sake, however bored you get, stay out of..." but he disappeared before he could finish his sentence.

Rory picked up his helmet and put it on, taking his sword from its place and held it to his side as he began his long vigil.

~ 0 ~

The Doctor appeared right in the middle of a fiasco concerning a Dalek and two gingers, "Trouble..." he finished his sentence, "Oh!" he looked back to see two Ponds, "Two of you?" he mused, "Complicated."

"Exterminate! 'Weapons systems restoring," the Dalek ahead of them was coming closer to the Pandorica room.

'Come along, Ponds," the Doctor took both gingers by the hand and ran to hiding by the Pandorica box.

"Exterminate!"

The Doctor stopped at an alcove display and nearly fell on a mannequin. He picked up a falling fez and put it on.

"What are we doing?" Amy looked around, hoping to find another way out before the Dalek caught them.

"Running into a dead end, where I'll have a brilliant plan, that basically involves not being in one," the Doctor grinned.

"What's going on?" a watchman called, the group able to see a bit of a torch shining into the room.

The Doctor and the Ponds moved to hide behind the Pandorica, "Get out of here," he told Amy, "Go! Just run!" but the ginger woman refused to go anywhere.

"Drop the device," the Dalek turned on the watchman.

"It's not a weapon," the Doctor called to them before the watchman was hurt, "Scan it. It's not a weapon, and you don't have the power to waste!"

"Scans indicate intruder unarmed."

The watchman scoffed, "Do you think?" he dropped his torch and held his hand out, his index fingers opening down to reveal a gun that fired on the Dalek's eyestalk.

"Vision impaired! Vision... "

The watchman stepped into the Pandorica room where the group was able to see it was RORY.

"Amy?" he breathed at the sight of her as she and the others came around the box.

"Rory!" Amy ran straight to him, nearly knocking him down with her hug.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. It just happened," Rory started apologizing as the ginger clung to him.

"Oh, Shut up," Amy rolled her eyes and kissed him.

"Yeah, shut up, cos we've got to go," the Doctor came up to them and sighed when they kept kissing, "Come on!"

Rory pulled away and smiled at Amy, "I waited. 2,000 years, I waited for you."

"No, still shut up," Amy resumed their kiss.

"And break! And breathe!" the Doctor nearly flapped his arms to get their attention back, "Well, somebody didn't get out much for 2,000 years," he muttered in the end.

Amelia tugged on his sleeve, "I'm thirsty," she frowned, "Can I get a drink?"

The Doctor let out a big breath, "Oh, it's all mouths today, isn't it?!" he put the fez he'd taken on her head but she shoved it back to him, still waiting for her drink. He shook his head and looked back at the Dalek, "The light! The light from the Pandorica, it must have hit the Dalek," the Dalek started moving its weapon, "Out! Out! Out!" he took Amelia's hand and pushed the snogging pair in front of them out into the hallway.

He and Rory closed the door and the Doctor pulled out his screwdriver to keep it locked, "So, 2,000 years. How did you do?" he genuinely wondered as he glanced at Rory.

"Kept out of trouble," Rory shrugged.

"Oh," the Doctor realized he still had the fez and placed it back on his head, "How?"

"Unsuccessfully," Rory walked to Amy. The Doctor nodded and picked up a nearby mop for the doors, "The mop!" Rory made him jump, "That's how you looked all those years ago when you gave me the sonic."

"Ah! Well, no time to lose then," the Doctor used the manipulator and disappeared. A couple seconds later he reappeared to put the mop through the door handles as another lock and then disappeared once again.

"How can he do that?" Amelia blinked as the man kept disappearing and coming back, "Is he magic?"

The Doctor finally appeared again and ran for the stairs, "Right, let's go then. Wait! Now I don't have the sonic, I just gave it to Rory 2,000 years ago," and off he went again. Seconds later he reappeared and reached over to Amy and pulled out his screwdriver from her pocket, "Off we go! No, hang on," he moved to Amelia, "How did you know to come here?" Amelia took out the museum brochure and held it out for him, "Ah, my handwriting. OK!" the Doctor ran for the stands of brochures then to a desk across, getting everything he needed for the note and disappeared. He reappeared moments later with a drink for Amelia, "There you go, drink up!" he handed it to her then continued his way up the stairs.

'What is that?" Amy shook her head, a bit dizzy after that.

"Vortex manipulator...cheap and nasty time travel," the Doctor shrugged, "Very bad for you. I'm trying to give it up."

"Where are we going?"

"The roof."

Suddenly, they saw another flash of light where another Doctor appeared at the top of the stairs, his jacket smoking and skin charcoiled. He toppled down the stairs until he came to a stop beside the current Doctor. Quickly, the current Doctor used his screwdriver on him while the humans rushed to them.

"Doctor, it's you. How can it be you?" Rory looked between both aliens.

"Doctor, is that you?" Amy was hesitant to accept such a thing.

"Yeah, it's me," the Doctor put away his screwdriver, "Me from the future."

The future Doctor snapped open his eyes and grabbed the current Doctor, whispering something in his ear before falling to the floor again, unconscious.

Amy's eyes widened as she saw the action, "Are you...I mean, is he...is he dead?"

The Doctor remained silent for a moment, "What?" he shook his head to snap himself out and stood up, "Yes, yes. Of course he's dead. Right, I've got 12 minutes, that's good," he started up the stairs again.

"12 minutes to live?" Amy stopped him again, "How is that good?"

"You can do loads in 12 minutes... suck a mint, buy a sledge, have a fast bath. Come on, the roof!"

"We can't leave you here, dead," Rory frowned.

"Oh, good! Are you in charge now? So, tell me, what are we going to do about Amelia?" the Doctor looked at where Amelia had originally been at, only her drink left on the floor as evidence.

However, the two humans didn't seem to understand she was gone forever as they started down the stairs searching for her.

"Where did she go?" Amy frowned and looked back at the Doctor.

"Amelia?" Rory shouted for the girl.

"There is no Amelia. From now on, there never was," the Doctor informed, making both look back, "History is still collapsing."

"How can I be here, if she's not?" Amy gestured to herself, as if doubting his words.

"You're an anomaly. We all are. We're all hanging on at the eye of the storm, but the eye is closing, and if we don't do something, reality will never have happened. Today, just dying is a result. Now, come on!"

~ 0 ~

Eventually, the group made it up to the roof where it was visibly daylight now. Amy looked around as if she was being tricked, "How did morning happen?" she questioned.

"History is shrinking. Is anybody listening to me?" the Doctor rolled his eyes as he headed for a satellite dish, "Universe is collapsing. We don't have much time left."

"What are you doing?" Rory raised an eyebrow as the Doctor pulled the dish off its place with the screwdriver.

"Looking for the TARDIS."

"But the TARDIS exploded."

"OK, then. I'm looking for an exploding TARDIS," the Doctor rolled his eyes again at his technicality and moved to the edge of the roof.

"I don't understand," Amy followed him, "So, the TARDIS blew up and took the universe with it. Why would it do that? How?"

"Good question for another day," the Doctor raised the dish up to the sky, "But for now... total event collapse means that every star in the universe never happened. Not one of them ever shone. So, if all the stars that ever were are gone...what is that?" he made both humans look at a fireball in the sky. Both Amy and Rory exchanged quick, confused glances before looking at the Doctor again. "Like I said, I'm looking for an exploding TARDIS."

"But that's the sun," Rory blinked, though now he wasn't so sure that's what it was.

"Is it? Here's the noise that 'sun' is making right now," the Doctor amplified the light noises to make them see it was the TARDIS. "That's my TARDIS burning up. That's what's been keeping the Earth warm."

Rory listened closer and shook his head, "Doctor, there's something else. There's a voice-er, scream."

The Doctor frowned and adjusted the settings of his screwdriver to get a better sound.

"I can't hear anything," Amy tapped her ears.

"Trust the plastic," Rory nodded.

Then they heard the voice Rory was talking about, all recognizing it instantaneously, "Fairy Tale Man, where are you?" Avalon kept asking on a loop before screaming.

"That's Ava!" Rory nearly shouted, "Doctor, that is Ava and she is not here! Where is she!?"

"The emergency protocols..." the Doctor gasped lightly. He hated himself for not realizing it sooner. "The TARDIS has sealed off the control room and put Avalon and River into a time loop to save them. They're right at the heart of the explosion."

Of course that's where Avalon would be, right where the action was happening. He would roll his eyes at how typical that was if he didn't feel himself panicking from head to toe. First of all, he was supposed to keep her away from River and that clearly wasn't happening right now. Second of all, she was literally in the middle of an explosion. That's nowhere near what he promised her she would see if she came along with him. You promised her she and her sister would travel together and you failed in that too. He did. But he wouldn't let Avalon follow in Lena's fate. He long ago made that promise to himself and he would make sure to fulfill no matter what.

He needed to go pick her up right now.

~ 0 ~

River connected wires on the console, ignoring the sparks and small explosions as best as she could. Time was of the essence and she needed to her and Avalon out of this mess. When she thought the work was more or less done, she looked up and gave a nod to Avalon. "Try it Avalon!"

Avalon swallowed hard and dashed towards the doors. She didn't know what the hell was going on but she trusted River, despite the Doctor's clear reservations about her. She flung the doors open only to come face to face with a stone wall. Her heart dropped. "Fairy Tale Man, where are you?" she stepped back and turned around in time to see River attempting one more try on the console before it exploded with a bright light. Avalon screamed from its might.

The loop started over again and Avalon once more ran for the doors after River gave her the go. Only this time, the Doctor appeared in front of the doors. "Any princess in need of saving?" he looked around like nothing was going on.

Avalon gave a hearty laugh at the sight of him. She ran towards him, jumping to hug him. "You came!"

"Always will," he reassured her for future references. "Are you okay? Nothing hurts?"

"I'm fine!" Avalon pulled away but kept her arms looped around his neck as if he would disappear in that second.

River smiled at them from the console. "You're late!" she cut through their moment to point out.

"Oh, criticism!" the Doctor rolled his eyes. "I was a little tied up. Well, trapped actually. I tried my best! Now c'mon!" River left the console in a sprint. "Hang on, please!"

"Avalon's taking care of that," River made a gesture to Avalon's arms around the Doctor's neck, giving them both a teasing grin. It was actually quite amusing the way they both shared the same blushes. How they got into sync like that, River would never understand.

The three soon disappeared and re-appeared on the rooftop where Amy and Rory waited.

"Amy! And the plastic Centurion?" River eyed the pair curiously.

"Rory!" Avalon ran up to her best friend and hugged him, "My Rory! You're my best friend!" she laughed.

"And there's no one else you've, uh...remembered?" Rory pulled away, happy to see her alright but there was still that blank face on Avalon that just didn't settle with him. How could she forget Lena like this?

"Why do you ask?" Avalon stepped back and looked at the others, noticing a similar expression on each of their faces, "What is it?"

"Nothing," the Doctor answered while looking at Rory, nearly forcing him to stay away from the topic of Lena.

Rory frowned, disagreeing with the Doctor's decision. Lena was Avalon's sister, she deserved to be remembered at the least!

River sensed the tension growing between the group and stepped in between them, "Right then, I have questions," she tried distracting, "But number one is this: what in the name of sanity have you got on your head?" she pointed at the red rez the Doctor wore on his head.

"It's a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezes are cool," the Doctor grinned happily.

River looked at Avalon with a smirk, silently agreeing on what was going to happen next. Avalon snatched the fez from the Doctor's head and threw it into the sky where it was shot and destroyed by River.

"Oh!" the Doctor pouted, his head feeling lonely now.

"Next time can I shoot?" Avalon asked River, already eyeing River's blaster with plans.

"Exterminate!" the group turned to see the Dalek they'd left now hovering on the side of the building.

The Doctor forgot about his fez and hurried the others back to the stairwell entrance, "Run, run, move, move. Go! Come on!" after covering everyone with the satellite dish, the Dalek firing as soon as it had the chance, the Doctor was the last to climb down to the stairwell.

"Doctor, come on," River hurried as she kept an aim on the hatch, the others just behind her.

"Shh. It's moving away, finding another way in," the Doctor quieted her down after using the screwdriver to lock the hatch. He jumped down, "It needs to restore its power before it can attack again. Now, that means we've got exactly four and a half minutes before it's at lethal capacity."

"How do you know that?" Avalon followed him down the stairs.

"Because that's when it's due to kill me."

"Kill you?" Avalon and River looked at each other with confusion while Amy and Rory simply sighed behind them.

"What do you mean, 'kill' you?" Avalon insisted seeing as the Doctor had made more of a haste down the stairs, "Oi!" she called.

"Oh, shut up, never mind," he waved her off, unaware of the glare she now had on him, "How can that Dalek even exist?" they entered a hallway, "It was erased from time and then it came back. How?"

"You said the light from the Pandorica..." Rory reminded but was cut off.

"It's not a light, it's a restoration field, but never mind. Call it a light. That light brought Amy back, but how could it bring back a Dalek when the Daleks have never existed?"

"Okay, tell us," Amy motioned with a hand for him to keep going, no one surprised he'd just been playing the moment even more.

"When the TARDIS blew up, it caused a total event collapse. A time explosion. It blasted every atom in every moment of the universe. Except..."

"Except inside the Pandorica."

"The perfect prison. Inside it, perfectly preserved, a few billion atoms of the universe as it was. In theory, you could extrapolate the whole universe from a single one of them, like cloning a body from a single cell. And we've got the bumper family pack."

"No, too fast, I'm not getting it," Rory made a face.

The Doctor sighed and turned back for a moment, "The box contains a memory of the universe, and the light transmits the memory. And that's how we're going to do it."

"Do what, exactly?" Avalon crossed her arms, sharing the misunderstanding with Rory.

"Relight the fire. Reboot the universe. Come on!" the Doctor exclaimed and continued down the hallway.

River, who'd understood perfectly the 'plan', hurried after him, "Doctor, you're being completely ridiculous. The Pandorica partially restored one Dalek. If it can't even reboot a single life form properly, how will it reboot the whole of reality?"

"What if we give it a moment of infinite power?" the Doctor shrugged, "Transmit the light from the Pandorica to every particle of space and time simultaneously?"

"Well, that would be lovely, dear, but we can't, because it's completely impossible!"

"Ah, no, you see, it's not," he tapped her on the forehead, "It's almost completely impossible. One spark is all we need."

"For what?"

"Big Bang Two!" he cheered, "Now listen..." he didn't get the chance to explain the plan in the detail as the Dalek had reappeared and shot him from the back.

"Exterminate! Exterminate!" the Dalek headed for them.

The Doctor had collapsed to the floor in the smokey appearance Amy and Rory had seen twelve minutes ago. Rory made sure everyone else was behind him as he shot the Dalek once more in the eyestalk, draining its energy for another while.

"What do we do?" Avalon knelt beside River, scared out of her mind. "Is he going to do that face-change thing?"

"Not enough energy hit him for that," River assured her, "Doctor, it's me, River. Can you hear me? What is it? What do you need?"

The Doctor didn't answer anyone, instead reaching to his manipulator on his wrist and activating it, disappearing from the group.

"Where did he go?" River looked around, "Damn it, he could be anywhere."

Amy shook her head as the two women stood up, "He went downstairs. 12 minutes ago."

"Show me!"

"River, he died."

"If he died he wouldn't have randomly gone twelve minutes into the past," Avalon refused to believe any such thing involving the Doctor's death. That just wasn't possible. "Clearly, he had a plan that didn't involve telling any of us."

"Systems restoring! You will be exterminated!" the Dalek began to stir again.

"Oh shut up!" Avalon turned to the blasted Dalek in anger.

"Not the time, Ava," Rory quickly stopped her before her temper grew, "We've got to move. That thing's coming back to life."

"Well someone's got to shoot that thing dead," Avalon glared at the creature.

"All of you go to the Doctor," River instructed them, "I'll be right with you."

"What are you going to do?" Avalon looked back at her.

"Exactly what it deserves," River nodded for them to all leave.

Avalon sighed but let Amy and Rory lead her towards the Pandorica room. Upon seeing the Doctor's body not on the stairs as had been twelve minutes ago, Amy and Rory started searching for the missing alien.

"What's going on?" Avalon frowned, coming up behind them and seeing only a jacket on the floor.

"He's moved," Rory explained and ran down the remaining steps, "How could he have moved? He was dead! Doctor? Doctor!"

"But he was dead!" Amy exclaimed.

"Like I said, he must have lied," Avalon rolled her eyes and moved down the remaining steps as well. "That's like one of his rules, remember?"

"No, he was dead, we saw him," Amy insisted, but Avalon shook her head in refusal.

"Who told you that?" River joined them, looking calm as ever despite having blasted a Dalek to pieces seconds ago.

"He did."

"Rule one. The Doctor lies."

"Told you," Avalon told Amy with a hint of triumph lacing her tone. "So, where's the Dalek?"

"It died," she answered darkly and entered the exhibit hall leading to the Pandorica room.

They could all see the Doctor sitting inside the Pandorica box, unconscious they assumed. They ran into the room and River went straight to the Doctor to check what exactly he'd been doing.

"Why did he tell us he was dead?" Rory frowned, not appreciating they'd been crudely lied to.

"A diversion," Avalon sighed, "Told you," she looked at them, "How is it that I figured that out in less than ten minutes when you've been here longer than I have? As long as the Dalek was chasing us, he could work down here."

"Doctor, can you hear me?" River was asking the Doctor, clapping his face repeatedly to get a response form him. "What were you doing?"

"What's happening?" Rory looked up at the small window above them when the room became lighted with yellow and orange from the 'fireball' in the sky.

"Reality's collapsing," River called to them, "It's speeding up. Look at this room."

The trio looked around and saw every single display was empty.

"Where did everything go?" Amy frowned.

"History is being erased. Time is running out," River sighed and focused on the Doctor again, "Doctor, what were you doing? Tell us! Doctor?"

"Big... Bang... Two," he slowly came around.

"The Big Bang is the beginning of the universe," Avalon relayed, "Is that supposed to be like the 'reboot' thing you were talking about?" he slowly nodded, "Is that even possible?" she frowned.

"Oh!" the answer came from River, "Oh, that's good," she started to smile.

"What?" Amy asked.

"The TARDIS is still burning. It's exploding at every point in history. If you threw the Pandorica into the explosion, right into the heart of the fire..."

"Then what?"

"Then let there be light. The light from the Pandorica would explode everywhere at once, just like he said."

"That would work?" Avalon raised an eyebrow, "That would bring everything back?"

"A restoration field, powered by an exploding TARDIS, happening at every moment in history. Oh, that's brilliant. It might even work!" River let a small laugh and took out the Doctor's screwdriver, "He's wired the vortex manipulator to the rest of the box."

"Why?" Rory asked.

"So he can take it with him," River realized and looked back at the Doctor, still barely unconscious, "He's going to fly the Pandorica into the heart of the explosion."

~ 0 ~

After being sent out of the Pandorica room so the Doctor could finish his work in the Pandorica box, the human faction started witnessing even more displays being emptied out by collapsing time. While Amy and Rory comforted each other, Avalon stood to the side in deep thought. Eventually, Rory noticed and felt like he could nearly guess why she was so silent and thoughtful.

"Ava," Rory quietly called, leaving Amy for just a moment. He knew that the Doctor said not to tell Avalon anything but she had the right to know, and he wouldn't feel right about hiding poor Lena from her twin sister.

Avalon looked over at him, "I still can't believe you're back," she admitted with a small smile.

"You and me both," he agreed and they shared a small laugh. He glanced at Avalon for a minute, debating one last time whether or not he should go through with it and tell her the truth.

"You know, now I understand why my journal had those empty lines in the middle of my writing," she beat him to it, "I kept thinking and thinking of why I would do something like that: leave blank lines in my pages. I knew I was forgetting something and that something turned out to be you," she looked at him again, her smile brightening, "Why Vincent said he was sorry for my losses," Rory gave him a look for that, "I met Vincent Van Gogh a while back. I also met Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald. I knew I forgot something...and I guess my mind was trying to give me some clues."

"But...wait a minute," Rory also caught another word, "Van Gogh said 'losses'," he watched Avalon stiffen at that, knowing she'd finally realized it too, "Meaning you didn't...lose just...me."

"No, but..." Avalon blinked, "The blank lines...those were because of you..." she turned to him, "...they had to be..." but as she studied the face Rory had she knew he was hiding something from her, "...Rory? What's going on?"

"Ava, I'm really sorry," Rory sighed.

"What's going on?" Avalon asked again and when she didn't get an answer she walked up to Amy, "Amy, do you know what Rory's been hiding?"

"What?" Amy raised an eyebrow, "No, I just...I just got him back," she reminded, "How could I know a secret of his?"

"Rory Arthur Williams you tell me what's going on right now!" Avalon stomped her foot and glared at her plastic best friend.

Rory turned to both gingers and took a deep breath, the words he was about to speak would surely cause some problems...

~ 0 ~

River emerged from the Pandorica room to gather two gingers but instead found Avalon with red eyes, barely able to stand, and Amy near to tears. River marched up to them and with hands on her hip, "What's going on here?"

"It's my fault," Rory sighed, unhappy with the results but knowing that in a long run it was better.

River shook her head, "Amy, Avalon, the Doctor wanted to talk to both of you, but..."

Avalon didn't wait for her to finish and stalked into the Pandorica room.

"Avalon!" Amy tried to go after her but was kept back by Rory, "We can't-"

"Just...just let her talk first," he pleaded, "She deserves to know."

"What happened?" River questioned again.

"Fine," Amy huffed and moved up to River, "Why don't you tell us what happens here instead?" she said to River, "Big Bang Two? What happens to us?"

River sighed, "We all wake up where we ought to be. None of this ever happens and we don't remember it."

"River... tell me he comes back, too."

"The Doctor will be the heart of the explosion," River looked down.

"So?"

"So all the cracks in time will close, but he'll be on the wrong side...trapped in the never-space, the void between the worlds. All memory of him will be purged from the universe. He will never have been born."

"Oh...that's it?" Amy swallowed hard, barely managing a sarcastic tone.

"I'm sorry," was all River could say.

~ 0 ~

Avalon gradually slowed as she walked towards the Pandorica. The Doctor noticed her expression and knew it wasn't because of him, and the only other thing that could make her react like that would be...

"Her name was Lena," Avalon said quietly, her voice shaking with each step she took. "She was my twin sister and I...I can't even remember her," Avalon stopped before him, her eyes ready to spill fresh new tears, "Rory told me all about her and I can't remember anything."

"Subconsciously you did," he tried to help, "The strawberry hot chocolate, that was her favorite drink."

"Oh, goody, I remembered her favorite drink but not her," she gritted her teeth, "I still can't remember her. And do you know what's the worst thing? That I knew, I knew that I'd forgotten something and I've had memories but I can't actually see her! I can't see her! Why? Amy has zero idea who Lena is, she never had any idea that she'd forgotten someone...but I did. I knew that I forgot Rory, and I knew that I'd forgotten Lena...why?"

"I really wish I knew, Ava," the Doctor honestly said, lamenting the fact he would probably never understand what gave Avalon that ability. "I don't know why your subconscious fought harder. It's like you said the first night you came with me: your brain is wired differently."

"Ruddy brain," Avalon muttered bitterly. She folded her arms over her chest.

"Beautiful, intelligent brain!"

Avalon rolled her eyes at him. "No time for compliments here! I want to remember Lena, I want...I want to remember all the times we shared. She existed and she deserves to be remembered."

"I've got news for you, Avalon Reynolds. Would you like to hear it?" the Doctor knew that despite her feelings, she wouldn't resist not hearing what he had to say.

"...what is it?"

He smiled weakly at her. "You're going to see Lena again. My sweet baby sister is going to be alive again."

"How?"

"Big Bang," he whispered with a small cheerful tone, actually making Avalon chuckle a little.

"How, though? What are you physically going to do here?" Avalon's eyes studied the wires he'd connected from his manipulator to the Pandorica. It looked rather painful and he already seemed so weak.

"He's going to take the Pandorica into the exploding TARDIS and seal every crack up while leaving himself stuck on the wrong side," Amy entered the room.

"What?" Avalon frowned, looking at Amy as she joined her.

"Such a 'you' thing to do by the way," Amy looked at the Doctor with a sigh.

"But you can't do that," Avalon shook her head at him, "I want Lena back but...I don't want to lose you either."

"Well, isn't that nice to hear," the Doctor smiled, "Am I finally a friend?"

"What?" Avalon laughed in a confused manner, "What kind of question is that? You were always a friend. I mean, you were Amy's 'imaginary friend'," the two gingers shared a moment of laughter at their childhood ideas, "And you were the Fairy Tale Man for me. I, actually, um, wrote short stories about you..." she blushed with embarrassment.

"Yeah, I read them," Amy muttered.

Avalon's mouth dropped open, "What!?" she turned to Amy, "How dare you!?"

"We were ten, give it up," Amy rolled her eyes.

"Well," Avalon huffed and crossed her arms, "And here I thought I had friends who respected privacy."

Amy rolled her eyes again, "Yeah, yeah, ten years old," she emphasized their young age then sighed, "Anyways," she looked at the Doctor again, "What Avalon was trying to say was that we don't want to lose you."

"And I'm touched, I really am," the Doctor nodded. At least he knew that he'd completed his little challenge with Avalon and became a true friend; and, he felt very happy about it, "However, there are some things you've yet to see. Example number one, Amy: your house was too big. That big, empty house. And just you."

"And Aunt Sharon," she reminded, seeing no relevancy in it.

"Where were your mum and dad? Where was... everybody who lived in that big house?"

"I lost my Mum and Dad."

"How? What happened to them? Where did they go?"

"I... I don't..." Amy began faltering the more she thought about her parents. She looked at Avalon for help, seeing as they'd known each other since they were in diapers nearly, "...Avalon?"

"I don't, I don't remember," Avalon shrugged as she thought as well, "I just remember..." she closed her eyes, focusing hard.

"It's OK. Don't panic," the Doctor said to them, "It's not your fault."

"I don't even remember," Amy gasped at the realization.

"There was a crack in time in the wall of your bedroom and it's been eating away at your life for a long time now. Amy Pond, all alone in that house. The girl who didn't make sense. How could I resist?"

"How could I just forget?"

"Nothing is ever forgotten, not really. But you have to try."

The ground started shaking underneath them. River ran into the room urgently, "Doctor! It's speeding up!"

Amy returned the Doctor's screwdriver into his pocket and sighed.

"There's going to be a very big bang. Big Bang Two," the Doctor began, "Try and remember your family and they'll be there. And, maybe even remember my baby sister?"

"How can I remember them if they never existed?" Amy looked at Avalon, "You'd be better at this than me!"

"You're special, Amy," the Doctor assured, "That crack in your wall, all that time, the universe pouring into your head. You brought Rory back...you can bring everyone else back, too. You just remember, and they'll be there."

"You won't," Amy countered, taking Avalon's hand and backing away from him.

"That's not any better," Avalon added.

"You'll have your families back," he smiled, "You won't need your imaginary friend nor a Fairy Tale Man any more. Avalon Reynolds, Amy Pond... crying over me, eh? Guess what?"

"What?" both gingers sniffled.

"Gotcha!"

The Pandorica closed and began glowing until it launched into the sky.

"Back! Get back!" River pulled both gingers into a corner of the room with Rory, all gathering together as the shaking increased. A couple seconds later River received a message from the Doctor in her communicator, "It's from the Doctor."

"What does it say?" Avalon peered over.

"Geronimo."

The room was taken over by a bright, white light...

~ 0 ~

Amy fluttered her eyes open to a bright morning. She slowly sat up and looked around her room, looking around the mess she had in it with her imaginary friend dolls and drawings. She really ought to clean that up seeing as she was about to get...

"Morning!" her mother, Tabetha, came into the room holding a breakfast tray in hand.

Amy, startled, looked at her with wide eyes, "You're my mum. Oh, my God, you're my mum."

"Well, of course I'm your mum. What's the matter with you?" Tabetha shook off her daughter's oddness for the moment, "And this is your breakfast, which your father made, so feel free to tip it out of the window if it's an atrocity. Downstairs, 10 minutes? Big day!" she cheered and hurried on out.

"Of course she's my mum. Why is that surprising?" Amy whispered to herself before jumping out of bed.

She ran down the stairs towards the living room where she was hearing a set of low mutters. It was her...father.

"Ah, Amelia. I fear I may have been using the same joke book as the best man," Augustus Pond turned to her with genuine concern.

"You're my tiny little dad!" Amy laughed and hurried up to hug him.

"Amelia, why are you behaving as if you've never seen us before?" Tabetha entered the room with confusion.

"I don't know. It's just..." but Amy laughed again and hugged them both.

~ 0 ~

Rory was brushing his teeth when he heard his phone ringing. He quickly answered, "Hello!"

"Do you feel like you've forgotten something really important?" Amy got straight to the point.

"Yep!"

"Do you feel like there's a great big thing in your head, and you feel like you should remember it, but you can't?"

"Yep!"

"Are you just saying yes cos you're scared of me?"

"Yep."

Amy rolled her eyes, "I love you."

"Yep," Rory shook his head, "I mean, I love you too!"

"I'm going to call Avalon, she'll understand!"

"Yep," Rory nodded, still with no idea what the conversation was about.

Amy shook her head and laughed before hanging up. She hung up and redialed again for the Reynolds', she would've dialed for Avalon's cellphone, but...she'd been punished.

She and Mel needed to stop getting into so much trouble.

~ 0 ~

"Hello?" a young, fourteen year old boy answered the phone.

"Gavin? Is Avalon around?" Amy asked.

"Yeah," Gavin picked at an orange strand of hair refusing to stay off his forehead. He kept blowing on it, prompting Amy to snap his name out.

"Gavin, pass the phone to Avalon!"

"Aren't you getting married?"

"Well, not if people won't take my phone call serious and just talk to me!" huffed Amy over the line.

Gavin pulled the phone from his ear and made a face. "You're weird, Amy. AVALON!"

~ 0 ~

Avalon was still in her pajamas with a robe on when her brother called for her. But she ignored it as she quietly tip-toed towards a room with an open door. She poked her head inside and saw a small brunette standing in front of a mirror with a salmon-pink dress on.

"Avalon, what is it?" Lena Reynolds turned to her with her hands on her hips.

Avalon felt the air leave her lungs at the sight of her twin sister. "Oh Lena!" She ran inside the room and hugged Lena so very tight. "Lena!"

"What...what is it?" Lena blinked with genuine confusion, still hugging her twin back however.

"You're my twin!" Avalon pulled away to look Lena over, "My smaller, serene twin!"

Lena laughed of confusion and shrugged, "Guess...I am," she looked at Avalon with concern, "Are you alright?" she put a hand on Avalon's forehead, "You haven't been writing too much in the journal of yours? I told you to go to sleep early last night!"

"Not this time," Avalon chuckled.

"Avalon!" Gavin ran inside the room holding the landline phone in his hand, "It's Amy!"

"Amy?" Avalon looked at Lena, "Isn't she getting married in about two hours?"

Lena nodded, "That was the rumor."

Avalon laughed and hugged her again, taking the phone and rushing off to her own room. Gavin frowned and looked at his other big sister, "What's wrong with her? She's weirder than usual."

"Don't be rude," Lena turned him around and walked him out of her room. "Now go finish getting ready."

"Yeah, yeah," the boy rolled his eyes and went on.

~ 0 ~

"Don't you feel like there's something missing?" Amy was asking Avalon while the ginger-twin ran a hand through her fairy tale books in her bookshelf.

"I get you," Avalon confessed as she pulled out one of her books, that of Sleeping Beauty in its French version - La Belle au bois dormant - by Charles Perrault, "Something at the tip of your tongue but never there," she skimmed through the pages of her book. Though it was French, she'd forced herself to learn what was on the pages. She could read it fluently.

"Yeah," Amy sighed, glad to know that once again Avalon understood her, "But no one understands!"

Avalon scoffed, "They all think you're crazy, Amy. I wouldn't insist to them."

"Yeah...I should go," Amy sighed again, "As always, thanks for understanding."

"No worries, see you later," Avalon hung up and chucked the phone to her bed.

She closed her book and stared at it for another moment, understanding completely what Amy had been talking about. She'd had the same sensations but being who she was no one ever believed her in the town. For that, she preferred to talk about it either to Amy and/or write it in her journal. She glanced at a small pile of papers on her desk and sighed. She would've stuck them in her journal but her journal was filled up now, no more space for anything...and she wasn't going to buy a new one. It was the last thing she had of her mother after all.

Instead, she returned her book to the shelf and headed for her salmon-pink dress that hung on her closet door, a maid of honor didn't get ready in just ten minutes, no!

~ 0 ~

The Reynolds sat at a table not too far from the bride and groom (and their families) in the reception room. They'd just finished hearing the speech from Rory's best man and were about to listen to Amy's father's, Augustus, speech.

"Sorry, everyone. I'll be another two minutes. I'm just reviewing certain aspects," Augustus apologized and sat down to review his speech, the rest of the guests laughing at his actions.

"Your father, Amelia, will be the absolute death of me. Unless, of course, I strike pre-emptively," Tabetha sighed.

Amy laughed at their antics but stopped when she saw a woman with brown hair walking by the windows of the reception giving her a look. It was kind of familiar but Amy wasn't sure why. Still, her body reacted faster than her mind and before Amy knew it, she had stood up.

"Amy? You OK?" Rory looked up at her.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I'm..." Amy shook her head and sat down again, "...fine."

"Right. Er... You're crying," Rory pointed.

"So I am. Why am I doing that?"

"Because you're happy, probably. Happy Mrs Rory. Happy, happy, happy."

Amy rubbed her face again as she felt more tears, "No. I'm sad. I'm really, really sad."

"Great," Rory sighed, not the way to start a marriage!

"Why am I sad?" Amy wondered then noticed a book in front of Rory, "What's that?"

"Oh, er, someone left it for you. A woman," Rory handed her the book.

"But what is it?" Amy took the book and studied it, putting more thought into it than Rory had apparently.

"It's a book."

"It's blank," Amy showed him a couple pages that were indeed blank.

"It's a present," Rory thought he was stating the obvious here.

"But why?"

"Well, you know the old saying. The old... wedding... thing. Huh?" Rory tried to make sense of it but failed miserably, "Amy?"

Augustus stood up with an apologetic smile, "Ready now. Sorry about that. Last-minute adjustments to certain aspects. Now then, it hardly seems a year..."

Amy didn't pay attention to what was going on as she was beginning to remember things...things she had no idea what they were. She studied a nearby guest wearing a red bowtie and then another guest with blue braces. Amy felt a tear stroll down her face and it fell to the book's cover.

"Shut up, Dad!" Amy abruptly stood up, ending her father's speech.

"Amy?" Rory reached for her hand.

"Amelia?" Augustus frowned.

"Sorry, but shut up, please!" Amy begged them as she took a deep breath, "There's someone missing...someone important. Someone so, so important."

"Amy, what's wrong?" Rory moved to stand but she shook her head and continued to talk.

"No one understands, except Avalon," Amy pointed at her ginger friend, all eyes moving to Avalon in a snap, "I had an imaginary friend when I was kid," and then went the sighs of her parents, "And my friend Avalon, she wrote about him."

"And it was meant to be a secret," Avalon said through gritted teeth, giving Amy a look that said to shut up. She didn't care if Amy was the bride, she would punch her.

"The raggedy Doctor," Amy insisted, "My raggedy Doctor. And Avalon's fairy tale man, but he wasn't imaginary. He was real. You know he was," Amy looked around, more determined than ever, "I remember you! I remember! I brought the others back, I can bring you home, too. Raggedy man, I remember you, and you are late for my wedding!"

In the silence around the room, Rory and the twins noticed their glasses clinking against each other as the ground underneath shook, the chandelier swaying above.

"I found you. I found you in words, like you knew I would," Amy continued, not about to give up, especially when the wind started picking and the faint noises of the TARDIS began to grow audible, "That's why you told me the story...the brand new, ancient blue box. Oh, clever. Very clever."

"Amy, what is it?" Rory, still confused, looked all around.

"Avalon..." Lena whispered, slightly frightened.

"It's the Fairy Tale Man," Avalon began smiling as the TARDIS materialized in the middle of the dance floor. "It's my Fairy Tale Man..."

"Something old. Something new. Something borrowed. Something blue," Amy laughed.

"It's the Doctor!" Rory remembered now as the box was now fully visible, unaware that Amy had climbed over their table and was heading for the TARDIS, "How did we forget the Doctor? I was plastic. I died in an underground cave..." He saw the looks he got for the last bit and added, quietly, "Long story."

Lena blinked when she started to remember as well, "I died," she frowned.

"I met Mary Costa," Avalon recalled. "And Zelda Sayre Fitzgerald."

"You did what?" their father, who sat across them, raised his eyebrows at the knowledge he was hearing.

Both sisters looked back at him with sweet smiles, "Nothing, Daddy," they said together.

"You're both weird," Gavin muttered, earning himself identical glares from his sisters.

Amy was knocking, or pounding, on the TARDIS doors calling for the alien inside, "OK, Doctor. Did I surprise you this time?"

The door opened and out came the Doctor, dressed in a top hat with a white tie and tails, a large, loose white scarf draped over his shoulders, "Er, yeah. Completely astonished. Never expected that. How lucky I happened to be wearing this old thing," he stepped out for everyone to see him, "Hello, everyone. I'm Amy's imaginary friend, but I came anyway," he shook hands with a flabbergasted Augustus Pond, "Oh, and a Fairy Tale Man," he waved at the Reynolds, specifically giving a wink to Avalon.

She smiled in return.

"You absolutely, definitely may kiss the bride," Amy strode for the Doctor, pulling his attention back to the bigger picture.

"Amy!" the twins exclaimed as they stood up from their seats.

The Doctor placed a finger on Amy's lips and grinned, "Amelia! From now on, I shall be leaving the... kissing duties to the brand new Mr Pond," he shook Rory's hand as the man came to join them.

"No, I'm not Mr Pond. That's not how it works," Rory began to argue.

"Yeah, it is," the Doctor nodded.

"Yeah, it is," Rory mumbled with acceptance.

"Big brother!" Lena rushed up to hug the Doctor.

The Doctor, upon remembering her (thankfully rewritten) fate, hugged her back instantaneously. "Baby sister! Thank goodness you're okay now," he kissed her head and hugged her just a bit longer. "And happy, and...gorgeous by the way," Lena chuckled, "Alive and happy, just like you should be."

"I can't believe I forgot about everything," Lena pulled away and looked at Avalon, "I called you crazy for all those stories you wrote."

"Is there anyone who didn't read my stories?" Avalon huffed.

"Me," Rory raised his hand, succeeding in making her laugh.

"Of course," she had to smile at him.

"And me," the Doctor added with a cheeky grin, "Though maybe I could take a small peek...?"

"No," she said, though the Doctor swore he could see a small blush on her cheeks that made him even more curious about those stories, "But I'm glad to have you back," she moved on up and hugged him.

"Right then, everyone," he cleared his throat and pulled away from Avalon to look back at the guests, "I'll move my box. You're going to need the space," he rushed into the TARDIS and looked back, "I only came for the dancing," he smirked and went off.

The remaining group looked at each others with smiles as they felt the wind of the TARDIS dematerializing hit them, simply happy to be together again.

~ 0 ~

Later that night, each companion got to see just how good of a dancer the Doctor was. Amy was first up on the dance floor and as she did her best, normal dancing to Queen's "Crazy Little Thing Called Love", she had no idea what the Doctor was doing.

"You're terrible! That is embarrassing!" she accused, but the Doctor didn't seem to care. He thought he was doing just fine.

After that the Doctor started showing off his 'moves' for the children who were eager to learn how to dance like him, "That's it. That's good. Keep it loose!"

"Teach me!" Lena came over to join them, the Doctor more than happy to show his baby sister just how to dance. It was her turn after all!

~ 0 ~

The music had slowed down and provided the best setting for the new couple. Mostly everyone was at the dance floor, accompanying Amy and Rory for the moment... almost everyone. The Doctor was happily watching his friends dance when Lena slowly came up to him.

"Big brother, can I talk to you for a second?" the seriousness in her face indicated to the Doctor there was something deeply bothering her.

"Of course," he agreed and followed her to a more quiet place.

~ 0 ~

Avalon would've enjoyed the dancing if someone that day had bothered to take her out. Since that failed, she decided to leave the party for a moment just to get some fresh air. The ballroom was a bit stuffy anyways. As she walked out of the ballroom, however, she started to hear weird noises from a distance. It sounded like a gurgle, actually, but not a regular gurgle. She would've ignored it but she also got the feeling that something was watching her.

"Hello?" she called out. She stopped when she heard a crunching of leaves on the ground. "If this is one of you stupid kids trying to scare me, I will get you," she warned and stepped into a small sitting area. Her eyes nearly popped out of her head when she saw not a child, but a gray alien in a black suit. "O-o-oh my God…" she stumbled back a couple steps and hit a tree's bark. "Wh-what are you…?"

The alien tilted is large head to the side, raising one of its tentacle-like hands and pointing a long finger at her. "You tried to hide from the Silence but we have found you," its raspy voice filled the area.

"D-doctor!" she started to call out.

The lone creature directed its other hand to the bench where a rolled up paper sat. Avalon followed the gaze and, unfortunately, forgot the creature altogether.

"Avalon?" she heard the Doctor call her name and she quickly turned around.

"Avalon are you out here?" Lena then called.

Avalon blinked slowly and rubbed the side of her head. She looked around and spotted the rolled up letter again on the bench. She walked over to it and picked it up. Without hesitation, she ripped off the small red ribbon keeping it folded and scanned its contents.

"There you are!" Lena's exclaim startled the ginger but by that time she had already finished reading the letter.

"Was it my imagination or were you calling my name?" the Doctor was making a face as he tried to decide whether or not the call had been real. There was too much going on to be sure.

Avalon looked at them with a sly smile. "Mm, I'm curious to see what dreams you've been having of me, Fairy Tale Man."

The Doctor sputtered with a red face, making her laugh. "That's not funny!"

"Ahem," Lena calmly cleared her throat. "Avalon, there was something we wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh? The both of you?" Avalon raised an eyebrow, a suspicious swirl sitting in her eyes.

Lena nodded her head. "Mhm. It's actually quite simple, really. I'm not going to travel with the Doctor anymore." Avalon blinked pretty face at first, surprised by the sudden decision. "But I want you to continue doing so."

"Um...excuse me?" Avalon turned her attention to the Doctor to see what he had to say on the matter.

"Lena's good at making points, Ava," the Doctor cleared his throat, prepared to receive snaps and shouts for agreeing with the choice Lena made.

"Sorry, the both of you want me to leave my sister behind? Why on Earth would I ever do that!?"

"Because it's high time you stopped taking care of me and start living your life," Lena had the answer within the second. She was adamant this time to get the point across Avalon's head. "I'm sick, yes, but it is a controlled illness and I have doctors to take care of me. You have put your life on hold for me and the rest of our family for far too long. It stops today. We are all grown up, Avalon. It's time to let go."

Avalon was nothing short but stunned to hear Lena say all that. "I don't...I...Lena?"

Lena raised her head, clearly determined. "I'm not going to travel anymore because I don't feel like it's where I belong."

"Even though I've said she's always welcomed," the Doctor added and Lena nodded in acknowledgment.

"This is the choice I had made before I died in that other time line. The TARDIS is amazing but...it's just not my place," Lena reiterated. "But it's yours, Avalon. I know it is. So you go and you travel...and send me a postcard every now and then."

Avalon was hurt, of course she was, and Lena saw it. The ginger saddened up as a consequence and when she spoke, her next words were apologetic. "I didn't mean to annoy you, Lena-"

"Avalon, it's not that-"

"I just don't want to lose you like we lost Mum," Avalon lowered her arms still holding the letter she found. "I love you Lena, and I never want anything to happen to you."

Lena smiled and walked up to her sister to give her the biggest hug possible. "I know that, silly. You have a very big heart and from now on I'm going to make sure that its content. Truly content." She pulled away to meet Avalon's gaze. "I talked to Dad about it and he's on board."

"I guess there's no choice then, huh?" Avalon lightly chuckled. "Is that alright with you, Doctor?"

The man was already smiling. "I have a few places we could try…"

The idea of travelling made Avalon swell with excitement. It was something she'd always wanted to do but because of her family's situation she never got to live out. Now, now it was different, but there was also something else that might be pushing her to accept Lena's command.

"Okay then," she finally agreed out loud. "But now I'd like a word with you, Doctor."

The Doctor's face fell and his entire body stiffened. "Am I in trouble?"

"Well, you blew up the world but then put it back together so no, you're not. But I just need to tell you something."

Lena was all smiling because her plan worked. "I'll leave you then!" she happily returned to the ballroom.

Avalon watched her sister disappear into the building before deciding to speak again. Without a word, she held out the folded letter to the Doctor.

His eyes flickered from her to the paper and in no time was confused. "Am I...am I supposed to take it?" she nodded her head. "It's for me?"

"Uh, no, it's for me...apparently," Avalon watched him finally take it and unroll it.

'Dear Avalon, I know this is strange and probably confusing but it is imperious that you listen to me. You must remain with the Doctor for your own safety. Bad things are coming, and they will be coming for you and all your friends.'

The Doctor's mouth closed and opened several times, much to Avalon's amusement, as he failed to understand where this message got off giving such an obscure warning. "Where did you get this?"

"I just found it on the bench!" Avalon gestured to the dusty, white bench behind her. "It was right there!"

"Did you see anybody, then?"

"Does it look like I saw anybody?"

The Doctor frowned and rolled the letter back up. "Okay, well, we can't jump to any conclusions about this. It could just be someone playing a trick."

"It's got to be," Avalon crossed her arms. "I mean, it doesn't make sense, does it?"

The Doctor could tell that despite her calm exterior, there was an inkling of fear starting inside her. "Just...for the time being, I think it is best if you come along with me."

"But what if it's not?" she asked, her eyes briefly flickering to the ballroom. "What if they come for my family?"

"Listen, by the looks of it, their main point was to get to you...we're just along for the ride," the Doctor did not make her feel better and he knew it. He walked up to her and comfortingly rubbed her arms. "We'll figure if this is just a trick or not. Trust me, okay?"

"Okay," she nodded. It wasn't a very difficult thing to trust in him, after all. She felt safe with him no matter what.

The Doctor smiled at her and startled her by taking her hand. "Would you like to dance?" It didn't appear that she believed him because she looked around like he'd been asking someone else. "I meant you, red," the Doctor laughed. "I've danced with everyone except for you...though Rory didn't seem to like it very much."

Avalon snickered. "I bet he didn't."

"Complete the set, then?"

Avalon's smile faded a little as she sighed. "Um, listen…" she slowly took her hand from his. "I think it's no secret that a lot of Amy's family disapproves of me, um...I'd rather not be the center of their attention."

"But I thought Avalon Reynolds just didn't care?" the Doctor playfully scrutinized her face.

"I don't," she agreed, "But this is Amy and Rory's day. I'm not ruining it just to make a point."

"C'mon, I think they know you enough not to care. Dance?" he took her hand again. "Don't worry, I can teach you how."

That made Avalon laugh a genuine, teasing laugh. It made the Doctor smile as he pulled them towards the ballroom.

Since it was a slow dance, Avalon found herself a bit nervous as she took position for a dance. She'd danced to regular music in clubs with Mels and Amy, (when they'd sneak in with fake ID's), but never actual slow dances. Like she said before, no one ever asked her for fear of the talks from people so she'd never had the chance for a proper dance.

"I don't..." she became even more nervous as she thought more on it.

"I don't hear any talks," the Doctor whispered to her as they started to sway to the music.

"Give them a couple of minutes, they'll come up with something," she kept her gaze down, "They did for you earlier."

"Oh, I bet they did," the Doctor smirked, not at all perturbed with it, "But I was having fun, so I don't care in the least."

Avalon looked up and smiled a bit, teasing actually, "You did look ridiculous, though. I just want that to be clear. I need it to be clear."

"Ridiculously fun, though," he corrected.

She rolled her eyes, "Call it whatever you like, but it was ridiculous. Kids are going to be dancing that stupid dance you taught them for months!"

"I'll be glad to give them more lessons."

"No you will not," she shook her head, chuckling to herself.

"Look at that, you've forgotten your nervousness and the 'talks' of the people," the Doctor 'discreetly' smirked about it.

"Guess I did," she acknowledged, "You're good at distracting, you know. And not that bad of a slow dancer, I'm shocked."

"Well, there's a lot you don't know about me either," he tapped her nose and smiled back.

"Guess I don't..." she acknowledged it without a thought. A couple moments passed in silence until Avalon looked up at him and smiled, "I never said..."

"Said what?" the Doctor blinked, genuinely confused.

"You did impress me. Since the first trip I took with you...you got me," she smiled so genuinely the Doctor had no idea what to do nor say. There was a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach, but a good kind. "I am so impressed by you, Doctor."

"I...thank you..." the Doctor cleared his throat, more awkwardly than he would have liked. Why couldn't he get himself together!?

"And, I'd also like to thank you, for real this time, for giving me the opportunity to travel with my sister."

The Doctor nodded his response and smiled, "A chance to travel with the Ponds and Reynolds? How can I possibly give that up?"

She blushed without realizing it and moved to rest her head on his shoulder, never even thinking about the murmurs of the guests anymore. She felt quite content where she was.

~ 0 ~

Upon seeing the Reynolds regathering for a final talk on what would be happening over the next couple months, the Doctor took opportunity to quietly slip out of the reception room. He wanted get back to the TARDIS to get a little bit of work done with the mysterious enemy that had taken over the entire box when Avalon and River were inside. He figured it would be good to get a head-start before Avalon joined him. He admitted that he was a bit excited to have a companion that would be sticking around for a while. He was certain the Ponds would want some time along as newlyweds anyways.

"Did you dance?" a voice startled him out of his thoughts. He turned around to see River standing a couple feet from him, "Well, you always dance at weddings, don't you?"

"You tell me," he challenged.

"Spoilers," she smirked.

He sighed and pulled out her journal then handed it back to her, "The writing's all back, but I didn't peek."

"Thank you."

The Doctor also took out her vortex manipulator for her, "Are you married, River?" he suddenly wondered.

"Are you asking?" she mused as she put the manipulator on her wrist.

"Yes."

He blinked, "No, hang on. Did you think I was asking you to marry me, o- o-or asking if you were married?"

"Idiot," she murmured and sighed, "Someone's not gonna be very happy if she learns about this."

"Who?"

"Spoilers," she shrugged.

The Doctor sighed, "River...who are you?"

"You're going to find out very soon now," she conceded, swallowing hard, "And I'm sorry, but that's when everything changes."

She reached for her manipulator but the Doctor stopped her with a call. He pulled out the folded letter Avalon had found and waved it in the air. "Did you write this?"

For a second, there was a brief falter in River, but if it had been real it'd been wiped away in the next second. "Me? Messing with the timeline? You told me never to."

"River…" the Doctor was not playing jokes.

"I must be going," River waved and activated her manipulator, disappearing in a flash.

"That woman..." He wouldn't even bother with that right now. He unlocked the TARDIS, stepping inside and dancing his way up to the console.

He didn't get much work started when he heard the doors reopening and looked up to see Amy walking in, "Oi! Where are you off to?" she called, "Finished dancing with Avalon yet?" she smirked.

"Shut up," the Doctor pointed without looking at her.

"Oh c'mon, we haven't even had a snog in the shrubbery yet," she teased just as the doors re-opened.

"Amy!" Rory gave the call.

"Just one last tease," she laughed.

"That'll be the day," Avalon entered behind Rory, with Lena, "The day Amy Pond, er Williams, stops flirting will be the end of the world."

"Oi, says the biggest flirt in the universe," Amy scoffed.

"Am not," Avalon frowned.

"Are too!"

"Anyways," Lena covered Avalon's mouth while Rory did the same to Amy, "Big brother, I asked my Dad if I could take one trip with you and he said it was fine. Can I come?"

"My baby sister is asking if she can come?" the Doctor let out a small laugh, "C'mon, Lena, you can stay forever if you'd like!"

Lena smiled softly, "No, I think I'll be fine with one trip," she nodded.

Lena made it clear now that she was not content with the traveling about and danger. It just wasn't her style. Of course, it didn't mean she wanted to give it up completely. She'd grown to love the Doctor as a true 'big brother' and never wanted to give him up. She was simply going to take trips sporadically.

"So, where exactly are we going?" Avalon pushed Lena's hand from her mouth.

"Was actually planning on getting some work done..." the Doctor began but Rory cut him off.

"You just saved the whole of space and time. Take the evening off. Maybe a bit of tomorrow."

"I'm with Rory," Amy nodded.

"Space and time isn't safe yet. The TARDIS exploded for a reason. Something drew the TARDIS to this particular date, and blew it up," the Doctor reminded and headed over to the ringing phone, "Why? And why now? The Silence, whatever it is, is still out there, and I have to...excuse me a moment," he answered the call, "Hello. Oh! Hello. I'm sorry, this is a very bad line. No, but that's not possible. She was sealed into the Seventh Obelisk. I was at the prayer meeting. Well, no, I get that it's important. An Egyptian goddess loose on the Orient Express…in space! Give us a mo," he looked up at the group, "Sorry, something's come up. This will have to be goodbye. Ava, you ready to go?"

"Let's see, I've got my twin, my best friend and my flirty friend," Avalon nodded, "Definitely ready."

"Off we go!" Lena cheered and pulled Avalon up to the console, "With newlyweds, that'll be interesting."

"And fun," Rory added, making them all laugh.

The Doctor looked at them all and beamed, picking up the phone again and speaking into it, "Don't worry about a thing, Your Majesty. We're on our way," and the TARDIS was off for the newest of adventures.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

A/N: I am SO happy to write in Lena again, she really is the sweet OC of my batch!! Aaaaand so starts the letter business...yikes. :)

#doctor who #11th doctor #ocappreciation #ocapp #doctor who fics #11th doctor fics #dw imagine #dw imagines #11th doctor imagine #11th doctor imagines #doctor who imagines #doctor who imagine #amy pond #rory williams #river song #oc: Avalon Reynolds #oc: Lena Reynolds #fic: stars dance

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