#but like in three hours i’ll reach like a next milestone that i never thought i’d get

[lesilence]

genuinely so proud of myself cause i was so sure that i wouldn’t like get to this age and now i’m here like i didn’t give up when i was twelve or fifteen or anything. like yeah, i’m gonna call myself a fucking star for getting here

[todoscript]

𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐢𝐭

anonymous requested: 5 angst bakugou + 2 fluff hawks please (Keep up the great work, you always have my support!)

prompt for milestone event: “Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole.” genre: angst. pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader word count: 1.2k+ warnings: cursing. bakugou is the asshole.

author’s note: much appreciation anon! i’ll write the hawks request on a separate post and add the link here when i’m done!

At this very moment, you are positively 99.9% sure you’re going to kill Bakugou Katsuki.

You’re angrily tapping your heels up and down the streets, right across from the local Chinese restaurant you had just so abruptly left after waiting at the table for a good two hours for your supposed date to arrive.

While you sat there—a cup of ice water served to you by the handsome waiter you were almost tempted to ask to fill in for the empty space—you rang calls for the blonde about ten times. All of which immediately directed you to voicemail, where you had to listen to Bakugou’s voice bluntly command to you to “leave a fucking message after the tone.” Eventually, your patience thinned and you stomped out of the establishment, not caring about the strange looks pointed at you by its patrons.

Your next destination? The Heights Alliance dormitories, where you’re sure your “date” is lounging around right now with no idea he even stood you up.

“Where is he?” you vehemently ask the very first person you lay eyes on when you set foot in the dorms. Which, to their misfortune, is Kaminari Denki.

“Where is.. who?” Kaminari knits his brows together when answering your question with another, his face a mixture of confusion and concern at your furious attitude. The delay only brings more anger on your face.

“Bakugou fucking Katsuki, that’s who!” You want to scream out your frustration, but knowing you’re in the common room right now reduces your words to a hiss.

“Oh hey, Y/n! You’re back already?” Mina jumps into the conversation after hearing your voice from the kitchen. She’s quickly by your side, gleeful and ready to hear all the juicy details about your day.

“How’d the date go?”

“Didn’t even show up,” you grumble, sadness washing on your features in that instance before it’s replaced by your temper again.

“Aw man, don’t tell me Bakugou was the one that stood you up!” Kaminari groans, his remorse for you conveyed in his voice. “Y’know, if I were the one going on that date with you, I would have never stood you up— Ow!” Kaminari cringes at the elbow jabbing into his side, courtesy of Mina, who rolls her eyes.

“Not the time, Kaminari,” she murmurs, and Kaminari looks up, immediately witnessing the pressure surrounding you that grows by the second. He’s quick to get back to the point.

“Uh, right… Bakugou’s up in his room helping Kirishi—”

You don’t stick around to listen to the rest of his sentence, already attaining the information you need to go and give Bakugou Katsuki a piece of your fucking mind.

That’s all you can think about as your frustration gathers inside you like an impending tornado during your ride up the elevator to the fourth floor. When you make a landing, you trudge to the front of Bakugou’s door, and without hesitation, pound your knuckles against it. About three furious knocks later, you hear a rustle and feet descending to the floor, with each step seeming more annoyed than the last, though nowhere near your level at the moment.

“What do you want? I thought I told everyone I was teaching—” Bakugou starts hostilely, eyes closed from the very moment he opens the door, but immediately goes quiet when he sees it’s not just any other extra from his class. It’s you.

“Y/n?” he says, surprised, and a disdainful smile shows on your lips.

“Surprised to see me? Well, you shouldn’t be.” You cross your arms, leaning forward as your voice rises. “We were supposed to meet today for our date, Katsuki.”

Bakugou quirks a brow, almost like he doesn’t believe your claims, and practically snarls back, “Hah? What fucking date?”

“The one at the Chinese restaurant you recommended because they had all that spicy food you like so damn much!”

“The hell? If I had made plans for a date, then I wouldn’t be tutoring Shitty Hair right now.”

“You can’t be serious, right? Organizing a study session with Kirishima when we already had arrangements today?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem since we never made any of those arrangements to begin with!”

Your patience, long since thrown out the window already, finally takes a nosedive into the ground as you feel fumes puff from your ears, watching the blonde’s expression go unchanged. How has it is not clicked in his thick skull yet?

“Fine. You know what? Forget it, you’re a fucking asshole,” you quip at him, finally deciding to put a lid over your boiling pot of anger and tell yourself it isn’t worth your time bickering back and forth with a brick wall. Inconsiderate asshole.

“Enjoy your study date with Kirishima then. I’ll ask Kaminari or even the cute guy from the restaurant to take me next time, ’kay? Good-bye.”

With that, you stomp back to the elevator without so much as casting Bakugou a second glance, while he stares at you perplexed from his door frame, wondering what the hell just happened.

“What the? Y/n, I—” He attempts to reach out for you, but you make a point not to acknowledge him. So he scoffs and shuts his door, returning to his red-haired friend who gives him a bewildered look when the blonde retakes his seat next to him.

“Wasn’t that Y/n?”

“Yeah, who else would it be?” Bakugou replies crudely, looking over Kirishima’s shoulder and mutters that his solution is wrong.

“Well shouldn’t you go talk to her? She seemed pretty mad,” Kirishima advises as he rubs his eraser over his incorrect work.

“Why should I? She comes to my room, starts banging on the door while we’re studying, and accuses me of forgetting some date we didn’t even plan today!” His voice escalates into that short-tempered tone of his, resting his elbow on the desk.

“It’s not my job to worry about every little thing with her, especially about something that never even existed. And besides, you need me if you want to pass that big fucking exam next week.”

Kirishima rubs his head. “Well… yeah, but I think you should still apologize for the misunderstanding and clear things up at least.”

As Bakugou opens his mouth to reply, he hears his phone ding and looks down to see the screen lighting up. He lifts the device, continuing, “Well, if anyone should be apologizing, it should be—”

Bakugou’s words are left unspoken when his eyes scan across the screen. They gradually widen at sight; every word he reads drops a revelation on him that makes his heart heavy. Then in the next second, he’s suddenly spewing curses from his mouth, feet on the move, and dashing out of his room with the door hanging open.

“Shit, shit—”

Kirishima, left behind with his unfinished homework, is even more confused than when he started, shouting out questions to Bakugou about where he’s going until he gets an answer glancing down. He spots Bakugou’s phone plopped down on his desk, remaining lit up from the very moment he discovered what laid on the screen for him. Kirishima cranes his head, and out of curiosity, reads the pinged notification himself.

REMINDER: date with Y/n @ Bazoku Chinese Restaurant this afternoon. DON’T FORGET IT.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Dancing

Day 32 Post 1 by @honouraryweasley12

Title: Dancing Author/Artist: honouraryweasley12 Pairing: Ron/Hermione Prompt: Masquerade Ball/Special Event Rating: M Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Smut, Language

The knock on her office door interrupted Hermione's thoughts. She'd been hunched over for several hours since lunch, studying the tiny, almost illegible text of an ancient book about Centaurs.

"Come in!"

The door creaked open and Ginny strode into the small, cramped office, waving a piece of parchment. She tossed it onto the desk, covering the page. Hermione recognized it immediately.

"Just thought I'd pop in. Are you and Ron going to this thing next week?"

She had read the invite to the Ministry event the night before, amidst a flurry of complaints from Ron.

"Yes, it's mandatory."

"Did you see the date?"

"I know, the first of March. Ron was not thrilled that we'd have to postpone his birthday celebrations."

"I can imagine." Ginny smirked, before waggling her eyebrows. "Did you have anything special planned?"

"What we do in the privacy of our bedroom—"

"Who said anything about the bedroom?" Ginny asked innocently, trying to get a rise out of her friend.

Hermione wagged a warning finger. "I know you, Ginny Weasley." She frowned. "It would be nice to do something for him on the day; he was so disappointed."

"At least it's in a nice place," Ginny remarked, referring to the estate where the event was being held. "The food will be good—that alone should please my brother."

"That's true," Hermione remarked glumly. "I'm sure it'll be fine, but I know his birthday is important to him."

"What's the big deal? He's turning twenty-three. It's not exactly a milestone."

"I know, I know. He told me once that growing up, his birthday was the only day when he felt like he was the centre of attention, so I like to make an extra special effort."

Ginny nodded. "He's not wrong, I suppose."

Hermione rolled her head from side to side, a cracking sound from her stiff neck echoing around her office.

"Looks like he's not the only one who needs some pampering."

Hermione waved her hand dismissively. "I'm used to it."

"You should do something nice for yourself. Even I know you're working yourself too hard."

"Like what?"

Ginny pondered for a moment, before bouncing up in her seat. "I have an idea."

Hermione looked at her wearily. "What is it?"

The redhead nodded toward the invitation on her desk. "Did you see the part about muggle clothing being encouraged? What are you planning on wearing?"

"I don't know. I guess a gown. Maybe the one I wore to Percy's wedding last fall."

"You always wear things my mother would approve of. You're still young! How about something fun and sexy?"

Hermione scoffed. "I've seen some of the things you wear, Ginny."

She raised an eyebrow. "What's wrong with what I wear?"

"You show a lot of… skin. Which is completely fine, but you don't work with these people."

"C'mon, live a little. I know my brother would still be mad about you if you were wearing a potato sack, but just imagine his reaction if you wear something a bit different."

"I don't know…"

"I promise, I won't go too crazy. It's Ron's birthday after all, wouldn't he enjoy seeing you in something less… proper?"

Hermione sighed, her willpower slipping away. "Yes, he would."

"Harry and Ron will be away this weekend taking new recruits into the field, so it's the perfect opportunity to go shopping." Ginny stood up and grabbed her invitation, before making her way to the door. "I'll meet you at yours at noon on Saturday."

"I don't see how this is treating myself."

"We'll stop at a bookshop then." The determined look on her friend's face was enough for Hermione to throw her hands up in the air.

"Fine!"

"That's the spirit." Ginny flashed her a cheeky grin and closed the door behind her.

"Weasleys," Hermione muttered to herself, before returning to her book.

~*~

Hermione stepped out of the ornate fireplace, her magically-extended clutch in hand. Ginny followed closely behind her, the two stopping to admire the tastefully decorated ballroom of the old estate house.

The brunette witch glanced around, hoping to see the familiar red hair of her love bobbing above the crowd, but was unable to spot him. She glanced at the thin silver watch on her wrist, a gift from Ron when she graduated from Hogwarts.

Ginny thrust a flute of champagne into Hermione's hand. "Will you relax? They'll be here soon. You know they have their Friday evening briefing first. Harry told me they were going to shower and change at the Ministry, then come straight here."

"I'm just nervous, that's all," Hermione replied as she nodded hello to a member of the Wizengamot who passed by, before taking a gulp of the fizzy sweet drink.

"You look great! Ron is going to go mental when he sees you."

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, referring to the outfit she'd purchased with Ginny's help before downing the rest of her glass.

The result of their shopping excursion was a shimmery silver cocktail dress that hugged her curves and stopped mid-thigh. The two thin straps holding up the garment revealed her uncovered back and shoulders. All of this was set off with a pair of black heels. Her normally bushy hair tumbled down in soft waves, aided by half-a-bottle of Sleekeazy's.

Ginny nodded. "Absolutely."

A slight murmur behind them signified the arrival of one Harry Potter, his presence causing the usual stir, even years after the end of the war. He shook a few hands as he made his way over to the two of them, kissing Ginny and giving a hug to his friend.

"Wow, you look great, Hermione! I heard all about the new outfit."

"Thank you, Harry." She glanced over his shoulders, searching. "Where's Ron?"

He chuckled. "He's on his way, should be here any second."

Hermione held her breath as she spotted ginger hair towering above the crowd. She put a hand in the air and waved him over.

Ron fought his way through the guests that were starting to amass, making a beeline in their direction. Just as he was about to reach them, Ginny winked at Hermione and jumped into his path, wrapping him up in a hug and drawing his attention.

"Happy birthday, Ron!"

He patted her on the back. "Thanks, Gin."

Before letting go of the embrace, she whispered. "The dress was my present."

"What dress?" he asked as she angled him toward Harry and Hermione.

Ron's jaw dropped as he took in the outfit Hermione was wearing. She blushed at his hungry gaze, as she herself gawked at how fit he looked in his suit.

"Hey, Ron."

Harry's greeting went completely unnoticed as Ron stepped forward, his eyes never leaving Hermione's. He pulled her against him, his hand splayed across the bare skin of her back.

"You look fucking hot," he growled into her ear, causing her to shiver.

She ran her own hand up and down the back of his dark suit jacket, relishing how solid he felt. "So do you."

He teased her ear, hidden by her hair. "We'd better get on with it. The sooner we're done mingling, the sooner we can get out of here and… celebrate my birthday."

She nodded as he pulled away, her face flush. As he turned to speak to Harry, another server passed by and she grabbed drinks for the two of them, needing to calm herself down. His reaction had far exceeded her expectations.

She caught Ginny's eye, the look on her face clearing stating I told you so. Hermione shrugged and grinned, before passing Ron his glass.

The night went on as they moved from dignitary to dignitary. Every so often, she'd catch him staring down at her, his desire clear. She didn't shy away though, challenging his gaze and communicating her own wants.

The teasing went on as they mingled, her hand reaching up to play with the red locks at the back of his neck. Hermione knew Ron loved it when she did that, causing him to give her a subtle squeeze as he laughed at the joke of some minister she wasn't familiar with.

His arm had been around her waist the whole time, almost possessively. As the minister turned away, she shuddered as he ran his hand up and down her side, his feather light touch just grazing the side of her breast.

"Want to dance?"

She nodded and downed her drink, dropping the empty glass on a nearby table before he led them out to the dance floor. She smoothly slid her small clutch into his jacket pocket, before wrapping her arms around his neck.

His strong arms encircled her waist, his thumb teasing patterns across her skin. "Have I told you how much I like it when you wear stuff like this?"

Hermione grinned. "No, you haven't told me, at least not with words."

Ron smiled, his hungry look returning as one of his hands dipped lower, brushing her backside as they turned in slow circles—ignoring the music but enjoying the game. He closed the distance and pressed a kiss to her lips, dragging his teeth across her bottom lip, leaving her aching for more.

He buried his face her neck, inhaling her scent before whispering in her ear. "Want to find somewhere quiet?"

The combination of his hot breath, his arms around her, and the loosening of her inhibitions from the alcohol brought on a sense of recklessness. They had been dancing around it all night. He wanted her, and she wanted him just as much.

"Yes."

They stole away from the crowded ballroom, their hands clasped together as need drove them to find some privacy. They checked a few doors in the massive estate until they found a small parlour. Ron whipped out his wand and fired off protections.

Their lips crashed together in a matter of seconds, frantic with the desire that had been building up all evening. Ron lifted her up, mimicking their first kiss, and walked her to the far end of the room. He set her down and turned her around, breaking their heated kiss. Pinning her against a wall with his firm body, he pushed aside her hair, his mouth finding that spot on the back of her neck that he knew so well.

"Oh, yes!"

He continued downward, kissing and tasting her naked back, causing her to gasp, her ragged breathing the loudest sound in the room.

"You look so fucking sexy in this," he said, before sliding his hand up her thigh and underneath her dress.

"Yes, touch me. I want to feel your hands on me."

His large hand palmed her between her legs, causing her to moan even louder. "Fuck, I love that sound."

"More," she cried out, grinding against his fingers. She loved the feeling of him taking control and pleasuring her.

His other hand snaked up to the front of her dress, reaching for her covered breast. Having his amazing attention in two different places was sending shockwaves to her core.

She mewled as he increased the pressure, his actions becoming rougher and more primal. She loved it but wanted to feel him. Wanted to feel what she did to him.

"Are you hard for me?"

"Check for yourself," he grunted, letting go of her and turning her to face him.

He kissed her hard, his hands cupping her face as she stroked his obvious arousal through his tailored suit pants. He moaned in her mouth from the contact. She in turn threw her head back as he trailed his lips to her cheek, then down to her neck, sucking and biting. They were ravenous for each other.

Her hand flew into his hair, jerking at the ginger strands as she pleaded for more. "Ron, please."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me, quickly!" she begged, her words brazen in the elegant room. Her hand went to his zipper and tugged it down, before slipping into the opening and wanking him forcefully.

"Shit, Hermione."

"Now, Ron, please! Take me from behind!"

In one quick motion, he spun her around again and pulled roughly at her hips. He bunched the dress around her waist, exposing her delectable bum. The smack of his hand across her arse cheek echoed, leaving a pink mark on her flesh and causing Hermione to groan and push herself toward him in overheated desperation.

"Yes, more!"

He slapped her other cheek this time, eliciting another strangled groan. Her wanton reactions were too much for him as he yanked aside her soaked knickers and guided himself into her.

She moaned loudly as he entered, her cries shrill as he filled her completely.

"Yes, feels so good!"

His fingers dug into her hips as he thrust slowly at first, his grunts increasing in time with his efforts.

"Fucking take it, Hermione."

She called over her shoulder, her fingers clawing at the wall in ecstasy. "Harder, Ron! I've wanted this all night! Wanted you all night!"

He continued his pace, his groans mingling with her own. Half-leaning against the wall now, she found her most sensitive spot and began rubbing furious circles, urgently needing to get off.

"Love it when you play with your yourself," he panted as he thrust into her. "You gonna come on my cock as I fuck you?"

She nodded, his raw dirty words and relentless pounding spurring her on. Her lips were pressed into a thin firm line as she felt herself reaching her peak, crying out his name. That was enough to set him off as well, as he throbbed and spilled inside of her, burying his face in her hair as he fought to catch his breath.

She sagged against the wall, his delicious weight pressing against her as her chest heaved. After a moment, she turned to face him, seeking out his lips as they shared a lazy kiss, the taste of alcohol prevalent. They broke apart, and as they stared at each other, Hermione couldn't help but flash him a big smile.

"Enjoyed that, did you?" His deep voice rumbled.

"Mmmm, very much so. I take it you liked the dress."

He grinned. "I think that's an understatement."

They quickly cleaned themselves up and got their clothing straightened out. The effects of the champagne were still working on Hermione as she leered at him in his suit and licked her lips.

"Shall we finish our rounds and then go home? It might be your birthday, but I have one big candle to blow."

Ron laughed and shook his head. "Happy fucking birthday to me."

[sfb123]

The Final Goodbye - Chapter 4 (Finale)

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2

Pairing: Liam x Riley

All characters belong to Pixelberry.

Description: In a slight canon divergence from book 2, Riley reaches her breaking point with the engagement tour and decides to restart her life when the court gets to NYC. Can the rest of the group clear her name, and convince her to come back before it’s too late?

Catch Up Here

Rating: PG (I think there are a few swear words in there, very angsty, but otherwise pretty mild)

Word Count: 2,525 (sorry, this is like twice as long as the others, but it’s worth it, I promise!)

A/N: We’ve made it to the end of the story. I appreciate you all so much for indulging me in this. I guess, technically, this is my first completed series (I promise, I’ll get back to Sapere Aude and A Taste of Cordonia soon!), so that’s a pretty exciting milestone for me. I really hope that at the end of this, you consider it worth your time. 

I gush way too much over her, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop, because I’m truly blessed that we stumbled upon each other, so shout out @jessiembruno​ for all of your help with this, and with everything. I may have in person friends I go for walks with, but you’re still at the top of my list. 

Tags: Listed below. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

Maxwell, Drake, and Hana sat in silence on the couch in Riley’s hotel room, reflecting on the day’s events. Bertrand had told Maxwell that he found her, but nobody else had seen or heard from her since. They weren’t sure if she had seen Tariq’s statement, and were even less sure it would matter. 

Hana broke the silence. “I can’t believe we did it.”

“I can’t believe Riley isn’t here. We should all be victory dancing right now.” Maxwell replied. 

Drake patted Maxwell on the back. “She’ll be back, she has to be. There’s no way she went through all of this just to give up in the home stretch.”

There was a gentle knock at the door, all three of them jumped up in the hopes that it was Riley. Maxwell ran to answer it, revealing Liam on the other side. “Oh, Liam. Hey.” Maxwell stepped back, allowing Liam to enter. 

Unable to contain his grin, Liam entered the room and approached the group. “I had a feeling you all would come here. I came to see you as soon as I could.” He looked around, noticing that Riley wasn’t with them he turned back to Maxwell and noticed his nervous expression. “Where is the woman of the hour? I wanted to personally offer my congratulations.” His face fell as he noticed his friends fidgeting, unable to make eye contact with him. Even without his years of training, he was easily able to read the tone of the room. He knew something was wrong. 

“Liam...why don’t you sit down for a minute.” Drake placed a hand on his shoulder and attempted to guide him toward the couch. Liam shrugged him off. 

“No thank you Drake, I came to see Riley. If she’s not here, just tell me where she is and I will go to her.”

“We ah...we don’t know.” Drake awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck, unable to meet Liam’s gaze. “This morning, after you left, Maxwell and I came to check on her and she wasn’t here. It looks like she never came back to the hotel last night.”

Liam felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He took a moment to compose himself, looking around the room at the sad faces of his friends. “She...she’s gone?” His voice barely above a whisper as he took a seat, afraid his legs were going to give out. “But you found Tariq, it’s over. Her name has been cleared. We finally have our chance to…” He dropped his head, cradling it in his hands. Hana sat beside him and wrapped a comforting arm around his shoulders. Drake and Maxwell looked at each other. Nobody knew what the next move was. 

Liam sat in silence, his mind reeling with countless thoughts. All of the things he should have said, should have done. From the coronation, where he should have called her name, despite everything; to the previous night when he should have run after her the second she stepped off that stage. Maybe if he had gotten to her, he could have convinced her to stay just a little longer. He was so focused on retracing his mistakes over the last several weeks, that he did not hear the sound of a throat clearing at the door. It did get the attention of everyone else in the room, however. Their heads all snapped over to see Riley leaning against the doorframe, an awkward smile spread across her face. “Hey guys, what did I miss?”

The sound of her voice broke him from his thoughts. He looked up, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. Watching as she addressed the room, he took note that she was not meeting his eyes. He was preparing himself for the heartbreak that was about to come. She was only here to get her things, he was sure of it. 

“Riley! You came back!” Maxwell ran to her full speed, pulling her into a hug so aggressive that her feet lifted off the ground. Once she was standing again, he pulled away and took her hand, rushing her toward the group. “What happened? We were afraid you were gone forever.” 

There was an apprehension in Riley’s face that they hadn’t seen since the early days of the social season as her eyes scanned the room. She was trying to collect her thoughts and explain herself without letting it all explode out of her at once. As her eyes traveled in Liam’s direction, she moved her attention to the floor. She was sure he was upset with her, and if she saw any kind of sadness or disappointment in his face, she knew she would completely lose it. She focused her attention back on Maxwell, “You thought I was gone, and you still went through all of that trouble to go get Tariq and get him to make a statement?”

“Of course we did. You’re our friend, and we promised to help you.” Maxwell replied. 

Riley took a shaky breath, trying to keep a handle on all of the emotions rushing through her at that moment. “I gave up on myself, and you guys kept fighting. I don’t think I will ever be able to thank you for that.” 

She approached her friends individually, hugging them and speaking softly to each. Liam’s heart raced as he watched her move closer and closer to him, afraid for what that moment would bring. As Riley and Hana separated, Liam stood from his spot on the couch, taking a deep breath, preparing himself for what was about to come. For the first time since she had arrived, Riley and Liam locked eyes. 

“Hi.” It was barely audible, but it was all Riley was able to choke out at that moment. 

“Hello Riley.” 

Tension filled the room as Liam and Riley stared into each other's eyes, each afraid to start the conversation. Drake, Maxwell, and Hana looked at eachother. “Alright, we’re going to take off. Brooks, good to have you back. We’ll see you in the morning.” 

Drake and Hana walked toward the door, while Maxwell approached Riley. “Celebratory field trip to Coney Island tomorrow, Little Blossom. It’s going to be great!”

“MAXWELL!” He jumped at the sound of Drake’s voice, and rushed out of the room. Shutting the door behind him. 

Liam decided to make the first move, he motioned toward the couch, “Would you like to sit?” Riley nodded and sat on the couch, turning her body so she was facing Liam, he did the same. “So...you left.” Riley nodded again, still struggling to speak. Liam needed to get the question out there, if this was going to be it, he needed to know now. “Do you...does that mean...have you changed your mind? About us?”

Riley’s eyes went wide, she wasn’t sure what to expect when they spoke, but she was not prepared to hear Liam question her love for him. “Liam, no! This wasn’t about us, about you even. It was about me.”

He reached for her hands as he took a brief sigh of relief. “Then talk to me Riley, what happened? Why did you leave?”

“It was just becoming too much, we were at that UN thing last night, another night where I had to watch her on your arm. She had sent me earlier in the day to pick up her wedding ring. I guess that was kind of like a reality check for me, that the wedding was coming. Time was running out. You’re supposed to be getting married in less than a week. Finding Tariq was starting to feel impossible. I was going to have to go back to Cordonia and watch you marry her. I know I told you that I would want to be in your life regardless, but as we got closer to a reality where I was going to have to live as your secret, I realized that I couldn’t do it. I can’t live my life like that, in a country where I have been ostracized, just to have little glimpses of a life with you. I love you more than anything, but I couldn’t live the rest of my life like that. I figured, since we’re already in New York, it would be easier to just break away now and try to restart.”

“Why didn’t you talk to me? Tell me you were feeling this way, we could have talked through it together. You just disappeared.” He brought a hand to her cheek, brushing away the tears that had fallen as she was speaking. 

“I couldn’t tell you, I wouldn’t have been able to follow through with it if I did. You would have looked at me with those eyes, and said all those beautiful words that make me all mushy inside and I would have agreed to anything you said.”

The tears Liam had been trying to hold back slowly began to break free with her confession. He never wanted her to feel forced into anything, especially not by him. This whole thing had been his fault. She didn’t feel like she could be open with him, or she felt like when she was, he would railroad her into choosing his wants and needs above her own. That was never the life he wanted for either of them. “Riley, I am so sorry. The last thing I ever want is for you to feel like you can’t talk to me. I know that it has been...difficult for us to find moments to truly connect, but I had hoped that in those moments, we were being the best versions of ourselves. I had no idea I was so far off.”

“Liam, remember during the social season, all of the times where we would sneak away, or you’d spend an extra couple of minutes with me? You would always tell me how you were being unfair to the other suitors, and you were breaking the rules.” He nodded, a small smile playing across his face at the memories of their time together. “Your feelings for me were making you do things that you never would have done before. That’s what this engagement tour has been for me. I made a promise to myself a long time ago that I would never be ‘the other woman’, I would never come in between someone else’s relationship…”

“But you were never…”

She put a hand up to stop him from finishing his sentence. “...I was never the other woman, because your heart belongs to me. I know, that was your way of rationalizing it, and I love you so much that I started seeing it that way too. I would make excuses, that it was only temporary until we found Tariq, that Madeline had told you it would be ok. And I know she did, but I shouldn't have been ok with it. I compromised who I was, who I have been my whole life, because of my feelings for you. That’s not ok.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “Liam, I want to be with you, more than anything, but not if you’re married to someone else. I deserve to be the only woman in your life, and on your arm, for show or otherwise. If you can’t give me that, I need to walk away.”

“Riley, my feelings for you have never changed, nor have my intentions. Now that the scandal is behind you, we can look forward to a future together, just the two of us. There are a few arrangements that need to be made, some conversations that I will need to have, but I need you to understand that everything is going to change from here. Our moment is right around the corner, if you can just stick with me a little longer.” 

There was a rawness and vulnerability in his eyes that caused Riley to completely break down. As she began sobbing, Liam pulled her to her chest, his own tears falling freely. They sat there for several moments, purging the emotions they had been working so hard to hold back.

When they pulled away, Liam held Riley’s face in his hands staring deeply, desperately into her eyes. “Please Riley, just bear with me until the court leaves New York. If you are not satisfied with where things stand at that time, I will completely understand and support your decision to stay here.”

Riley blinked away the last of her tears as she considered Liam’s proposition. She slowly nodded her head, which was still being cradled in Liam’s hands. “Ok.” 

He could barely hear the words escape her lips, but it was all he needed. Liam kissed the tear stains on each of her cheeks before placing a tender, lingering kiss on her lips. “I love you Riley, I love you so much. I promise, we’re going to get our forever.”

Riley wrapped her arms around Liam’s neck and pulled him into a tight embrace. He brought his arms around her, gently rubbing her back. “I love you too, Liam.” They sat in each other's arms, each comforting the other without saying a word. 

“I should head to my room and try to get some sleep.” Liam broke the silence, standing and extending his hand to Riley. “Walk me to the door?”

She nodded, taking his hand and standing, leading him to the door. “You could stay here if you wanted.” She looked at him coyly. 

“Riley my love, there is nothing I want more right now, but I can’t do that to you.” He brought her hand to his lips. “You’re right, you deserve to be the only woman in my life, and I am still technically engaged to Madeleine. I heard everything you said, and if anything more we’re to happen tonight, it wouldn’t be fair to you. To either of us. Just know that you will be the only thing on my mind until we are together again.” He leaned down, kissing her deeply, as he wrapped his free hand around her waist. 

“Will you at least come with us to Coney Island tomorrow?” She asked hopefully. 

“Only if you promise to ride with me on the Ferris wheel.”

She smiled, and Liam felt his heart skip a beat at the sight. It was at that moment that he knew they were going to be ok. “I think that can be arranged.”

He pulled her close for one last lingering hug. “Then I will be counting down the seconds.” He pulled away, kissing her on the cheek. “Goodnight, Riley.”

“Goodnight Liam.”

They shared a final smile before Liam exited the room, shutting the door behind him. Riley changed into her pajamas and got into bed. That night, she slept better than she had during the entire tour. She knew there was still a lot that needed to be figured out, and that it would likely be an uphill battle, but she was one step closer to walking up that hill hand in hand with Liam, and that’s all she had ever wanted in the first place.

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The Final Goodbye:

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Liam x Riley:

@jared2612​​

Liam:

@amandablink​​

[missymurphy1985]

Miracles (sequel to Reminiscing)

You'd been trying for a baby with Cillian for over a year now without success - he isn't getting any younger... What's next for the two of you?

Taglist:

@being-worthy @peakyscillian @queenshelby @noctvrnalmoth @margoo0 @janelongxox

"Baby it'll happen when it happens..." Cillian soothed your tears as he held you on the bedroom floor. Your period had just arrived, which meant only one thing. No baby. You'd been trying now for nearly 15 months and nothing but negative pregnancy tests and more sanitary products. You'd tried changing your diets.. you'd both cut out alcohol and caffeine.. but nothing.

"What if it doesn't, Cill? What if it never happens?" You dried your tears on the sleeve of your t shirt and sank into his arms.

"Let's book in with that fertility doctor yeah? Get some tests run, find out what's stopping us having a baby?" He lifted you back to kiss you. You nodded, reluctantly. You were dreading this.. what if you were the problem? Clearly Cillian was fine, he had the two boys.. if you weren't able to give him a baby you'd never forgive yourself.. would he even stay with you? The baby had been his idea... The thought alone made you feel sick.

"How about a weekend away? Just you and me, we'll head to Kerry and just relax for a few days?" You smiled. He always knew how to make you feel better. Nodding your head, he pulled you up from the floor and held you close. "Let's just get away from it all - no more talk of babies, just us, agreed?"

"Okay.. agreed."

The following day you woke feeling sore and achy. Your lower back feeling like you'd been kicked by a horse. Grimacing slightly, you lifted yourself out of bed to the kitchen where Cillian was making coffee.

"Hey, you okay?" He saw you limping slightly.

"Yeah, must've slept funny, my back is so sore!"

"Why don't you go lie down, I'll bring your coffee through?"

"I need to get ready, I'm meeting Lisa for a coffee this afternoon."

"I'm sure she'll understand if you're not feeling great y/n?"

"It's just a bit of back pain, I'll be fine once I've stretched it out. Don't worry," you smiled, kissing his lips and taking the decaf coffee from him. You pulled away suddenly as a sharp pain suddenly washed over your lower abdomen.

"And now we have period pain too... Wonderful..." You felt your eyes watering at the harsh reminder that you weren't pregnant and Cillian pulled you into his arms again.

"I'll call Lisa, go get back in bed." You rolled your eyes in annoyance. "I'm not asking, y/n." Feeling irritated, you made your way back upstairs and got under the covers. Cillian joining you shortly after with a hot water bottle, glass of water and some paracetamol. You took the tablets and Cillian placed the water bottle on your lower belly, before climbing in behind you and holding you close. He could feel your body tense every now and again.

"Hey, you okay?" He rubbed a hand up and down your arm to soothe you.

"My back keeps spasming babe, must've really done a number on it.." he pulled back from you slightly and ran a hand over your lower back trying to soothe it. He could feel the spasms as they came off and on every few minutes, the worry growing in his stomach. You were normally so fit, working out in your basement gym downstairs three times a week, yoga every Saturday.. pulling a muscle sleeping didn't sound likely to him.

You felt yourself drifting off to sleep as Cillian's hands massaged your lower back. The heat from the hot water bottle easing the cramps in your tummy.

You woke a few hours later to a white hot pain across your stomach and you cried out, clutching your belly. The pressure in your stomach was so intense you called out.

"Cillian!! Baby you there??" No answer. You reached for your phone on the bedside table and called him.

"Hey, you're awake -"

"Cillian come home.. please it hurts!!!" You heard the car screech to a halt.

"What hurts? Baby where are you? I'm on my way, 10 minutes okay?"

"Please... God it hurts!!!" Cillian stayed on the phone but you heard him talking to his sister in the passenger seat.

"Orla, call an ambulance, you're gonna have to come with me. Y/n stay on the phone until I get there baby okay?" You were panting now, the pain was unbearable. You could hear Cillian swearing at other cars, he must've been driving like a maniac... You didn't care, you just needed him now.. Orla was talking now, she must've been on the phone to the ambulance service, you heard her give them your address before you screamed as another white hot pain shot across your belly.

Panting through the pain, you felt the pressure in your pelvis start to increase in intensity. You pulled yourself to your feet slowly, and made your way to the bathroom. You were sweating from every where, your temperature soaring to new heights. You pulled your underwear down and sat on the toilet, convinced whatever it was you'd eaten that was causing this was about to make a dramatic exit. In that moment you heard Cillian and Orla burst into the bedroom, Cillian making his way into the bathroom to you. You didn't even feel embarrassed that you were sat on the toilet you were just grateful that he was there.

"It hurts so bad Cill... Please make it stop!!!!" You screamed, as a sudden need to push took over you. Cillian was frozen in panic, completely helpless, he didn't know what to do. Orla suddenly took charge, pushing Cillian to the side to check you over. You stood up slightly, your body taking over completely.

"Holy shit..... y/n lie down on the floor, come on... Cillian, get a fucking towel!!" Orla guided you slowly to the bathroom floor and opened your legs, Cillian quickly grabbing a towel that she placed under your hips.

"Fuck... Okay y/n look at me.. you're going to feel a need to push and I need you go with it okay? Just breathe... You're gonna be fine.."

"The fuck is happening Orla??" You screamed.

"You having a baby y/n.. right now.. Cillian get that end and hold her.. Get your shit together y/n and push!!" Cillian didn't have time to react before Orla pulled him to sit behind you holding you, your back to his chest as you gripped his hands and bore down as hard as you could. There was no time to think about anything else. The pain was like nothing you'd felt before in your life. Cillian breathed with you, grimacing slightly as his knuckles were being gripped like a vice but focusing his attention on getting you through this.

Within seconds the paramedics had arrived through the door Cillian had left open downstairs and taken over from Orla, giving you a mouthpiece to breathe into.

"Gas and air babe, it'll help, just breathe in and out okay?" Cillian whispered in your ear as you did as you were told and instantly felt the pain subside slightly. One paramedic was between your legs, the other radioing the hospital to let them know what was happening and to expect a mum and baby imminently.

The room was filled with the sound of a baby's cry. You heard Orla burst into tears, whilst you and Cillian were still too in shock to fully process what was happening. The paramedics offered Cillian a pair of surgical scissors to cut the cord, before placing the tiny baby girl in your arms. At that moment you both cried, looking down at the tiny bundle who was starting to settle, searching for your breast. You instinctively fed her, and Cillian gently stroked her head.

"Where the hell were you hiding her??" You looked up at him and laughed.

"I was about to ask you, when did you put her in there?!"

************************************

Opening your eyes, you felt hands roaming over your body as you lay in bed pretending you were still asleep. Those hands knew you better though and teased between your legs making your body shudder.

"I reckon we've got 10minutes before the 'threenager' wakes up... You'd better make this quick Cillian..." You turned onto your side and opened your legs inviting his now rock hard cock to rest between them. His fingers skilfully toying your clit making you moan softly. Easing himself inside from behind you, he began thrusting slowly. The only position available to you, your swollen belly now too large for any other.

"Fuck.. y/n.. still so tight..." You arched your back into his thrusts from behind you, both of you knowing this could be the last time before you had your new baby, due any time now. This pregnancy being much less of a shock than the first - you found out about 7 weeks in and you'd blossomed quickly. You'd loved feeling the little kicks, seeing your baby on the monitors at your scans, choosing names... You'd experienced it all and had relished every single second of it, making up for missing the first one's milestones.

"This really isn't going to last long.. you feel too good... Full of my child..."

"Cill keep talking to me.. I'm close..."

"Watching your body grow... Fuck you have no idea what that's done to me.."

Your hips rocked back against him almost frantically, his fingers still pressing on that bundle of nerves drawing your orgasm even closer. Before long you came hard against him, muffling your cries into the pillow so as not to wake your daughter in the next room. He followed not long after, spilling deep inside you.

Kissing your shoulder he pulled out, running his hands over your belly again and holding you close. A sudden giggle of your daughter emitting from the doorway.

"Mama!! What was Daddy doing behind you?" You pulled the duvet over you and Cillian helped you into a sitting position, your daughter climbing in-between you.

"Ready for some breakfast Niamh?" Cillian said as he booped his daughters nose and she moved to bite him playfully.

"Baby?" She pointed to your belly.

"Not yet little lady, soon though we promise." Cillian climbed out of bed and pulled his jeans on, picking the little girl up in his arms he playfully swung her over his shoulder, her legs in the air. You laughed watching Cillian bounce her over his shoulder, blowing raspberries into her waist making her squirm and giggle. Feeling another twinge in your lower abdomen you smiled.

"Maybe sooner rather than later Niamh, I think it might be time for that sleepover at Aunty Orla's house!"

The look of shock in Cillian's eyes made you laugh. "They do say it speeds things along Cill, don't look so surprised," you winced as he called his sister.

"You ready for this?" He kissed your head as he dialled the number.

"Definitely more ready than last time!" You laughed and tweaked your daughter's nose. "Let's get your bag shall we little lady?"

"No you don't, you stay there. I'll sort her out and Orla will come pick her up. You feeling okay?"

"Yep - I'm okay, they're not too bad for now. Her bag's on the hook behind her bedroom door already packed. My bag is in the closet downstairs ready. Just need to call the midwife and we're grand okay?"

"Love you... So much..." He kissed you gently and called Orla to come pick Niamh up. Your heart felt completely full and you couldn't wait to meet your latest addition.

[stanknotstark]

Easy Aim (Is Only Exciting Once or Twice) Pt. 5 (Loki x Reader)

Loki’s turn to be a woman in every sense. Guys normally react pretty badly to our level of cramping but I don’t make Loki react too badly because he’s a warrior and probably has felt worse pain. If anything it’s more uncomfortable for him but not enough to warrant much reaction! 

Finally. 

It’s Loki’s turn to suffer. 

You hadn’t come up with a way to get back at the god but karma was a bitch. 

Loki walked into the kitchen and because of his obvious mood the team became quiet. You’re pretty sure the temperature dropped like five degrees too. 

“Who pushed you out the wrong side of bed, seeing as you haven’t had your cereal yet?” Tony asked. 

You snorted into your bite of eggs. 

Loki scathingly looked at you and Tony.

“I will piss on your mother’s grave, Stark.” Loki bites at the man. 

“Loki!” You yelled at the man. Going for Tony’s mother was off limits. Kind of like how the team didn’t ask questions about Loki’s true parentage. 

Tony waved you off with a smile. 

“Oh, you didn’t get pushed out of bed. You woke up with a big red spot on the sheets, didn’t you?” Tony says with a light voice. 

Realization dawns on you. Loki drops the bagel he had picked up and looks to you with squinted eyes. 

Loki had obviously never dealt with this when he shapeshifted. 

You quickly stand, gather Loki’s breakfast and push him out of the kitchen, with little resistance, and towards the direction of your room. Ignoring the Avengers questions and concerns. You were so worried you left your own breakfast.

When you both reach your floor. You make him set his breakfast down in the living room, then push Loki to your bathroom and have him sit on the toilet. 

It’s too silent so you start talking to fill it.

“Usually when I’m about to start I get extremely horny the week before. Then when the actual day hits I’m cramping like crazy, mostly in my lower back.” You explain as you pull out a bunch of pads from under your sink. 

Loki looks at you with something akin to fear but it’s not quite fear, when you glance at him.

“That explains the pain...” Loki whispers with realization.

“The second day is the heaviest so you’ll need to check your pad more so than usual and keep a bottle of Midol nearby because the cramping is terrible. Wait, do Earth medicines even work on you?” You ask the god, freezing your looking to look at him but continue when he shrugs at you. 

“The second day you’re also going to deal with mood swings, like, bad so maybe stay away from people?” You tell Loki as you realize you didn’t give him night pads so you search under your sink again.

“The third day it lightens up and usually my hormones balance out. The fourth day you’ll still need to wear a pad, it’ll only be spotting but it’ll spot enough to bleed through your clothes. If you feel like randomly crying at the smallest things, or even something as random as someone sneezing that is normal.” You explain to Loki. 

“Wait, I have read about periods, to an extent, but why am I having one exactly?” Loki asks.

You leave the room to find a plastic bag for all the stuff you’re giving Loki, when you come back you explain to Loki who sits there patiently. “Your uterus is shedding it’s walls because you’re not pregnant.” 

Loki squints at you. 

“How many times does this occur in your lifetime?” 

“Once a month till you hit menopause.” You tell him flippantly. 

You smile as Loki looks bewildered. 

“When do you experience menopause and when do periods generally begin?” 

“Usually around fifty and they start around twelve but can start as early as eight years old.” You shrug down at him. 

Loki closes his eyes, rubs a hand over his face with a sigh. When his hand drops he shakes his head. “And males have the gall to call presenting females weak.” 

You actually laugh at that causing Loki to softly smile up at you. 

“I uh, suggest buying some panties that you don’t care about, comfortable too, because you’re going to get blood on them whether you like it or not. I would offer you my panties but that is...gross, for some reason, even if you are in my body.” You babble out to Loki who nods at you as he stands. 

You throw the pads he holds into the plastic bag you hold, throw the nightly pads in, throw in a new bottle of Midol then hand it to him. 

“Eat with me, I’ll answer all your questions after you put a pad on of course.” You tell Loki, leaving the bathroom. You’re pretty sure he can figure out the pad. 

You sit waiting in the living room on the big couch. 

Loki comes out of your room not long after and sits next to you, pulling his plate from the coffee table and getting comfy. 

You’re shocked but Loki decided to sit pushed up against you. You wrap an arm around his shoulders which causes him make a happy noise while he chews and leans into your arm. 

“I guess this explains last night.” You say randomly thinking about the way Loki reacted to you yesterday. 

Loki chews through his honey bagel and nods. 

“It also explains why I’ve been getting wet for the past few days.” He admits without thought. 

You look down at him with a raised brow. “Oh?”

“Yes. There was a time where Steve was lifting something heavy and seeing his muscles bulge made me wet.” Loki explains, eating away, not looking at you but speaking as if he has no care about what he’s sharing. Another milestone you figure.

“There was a moment where you were laughing at something Tony said and that made me wet, I could not fathom why.” 

You laugh a little shocked Loki is sharing this with you. 

“Also, when you were hard that made me wet.” Loki finishes starting to pick at some grapes you had grabbed for him. 

“You’ll tell me you got wet but refuse to tell me you have feelings?” You ask teasingly.

Loki glares at you. 

You smile. 

Loki goes back to his food and you settle further into the couch causing Loki to further settle into your arm. 

“I thought periods last for seven days, did I read false information? Why do yours only last four?” Loki asks after he’s chewed through some of his food.

You hum. “Well everyone is different. Some people last three days, some last the usual seven, some people don’t have them monthly, some do.” You explain. “However if they don’t have them monthly that’s because of a disorder or because they’re young and haven’t balanced out yet.” You thoughtlessly explain better.

Loki is quiet for a bit but then asks. “And you did not know this period was coming?” 

You laugh lightly as your hand around Loki’s shoulders plays with your hair. It’s soft and silky. “Well, I don’t take birth control, I had a bad reaction to the one’s they gave me so I can’t really predict when they’re going to hit me. I can generalize between a few weeks but that’s it.” 

Loki hums, licking honey off his fingers. It’s just as cute as it sounds.

It’s only four hours later when Loki starts. 

You had both moved back into the general public of the tower. You had needed to eat more since you didn’t finish your breakfast then settled in the common area.

You were sitting on the couch with Natasha wrapped in your arms and Clint trying to burrow into your side when Loki made an exclamation crossed with a groan, an arm wrapping along his stomach from across the room where he was reading. 

You perk up and look at him as he looks at you with wide eyes. 

Natasha knowing what’s going on says, “It’s normal if you feel like you’re pissing yourself, you’re fine.” 

Loki relaxes and nods. 

“That’s nasty, Nat.” Clint huffs. 

“It is a natural event for a woman’s body, something they cannot control and you dare call it nasty?” Loki hisses at Clint. 

“There’s blood man!” 

“You see more blood on missions, is there a difference?” Loki points out.

You’re smiling with Natasha, looking between Loki and Clint like it’s a tennis match. 

“Well, it comes out of their vagina.” Clint weakly argues back.

“I have no doubt you’ve put your mouth on a vagina and that failed to gross you out, your arguments are irrelevant.” Loki says going back to his book.

Clint lets a pitiful noise out of his mouth and looks to you and Nat. 

“Don’t look at us, we’re on his side.” Nat says with a shrug, settling back into you. You laugh as Clint rolls his eyes. 

You watch Loki out of the corner of your eye as you converse with Nat and Clint. Loki has an uncomfortable look on his face and his arm is still wrapped around his stomach. 

You tell Nat you need to get up and she groans but allows you to. Then, she climbs onto Clint. 

Out of everyone in the tower you did not expect Natasha to be the most affectionate. 

You grab Loki’s attention and get him to follow you back to your floor, again. When you have him laying on your bed you search in your bathroom for what you seek. 

Coming out of the bathroom a few minutes later you show Loki what you have by holding it up in both hands with a satisfied smile. It’s old fashioned, you probably should just buy a heating pad, but this was given to you by your mother and you can’t let go of it because of sentiment.

“What is that?” Loki asks with confusion etching his face, propped up on his elbow. He stares at the orange, rubber bag you hold. It’s the size of a decorative pillow.

“A water bottle.”

“Are you expecting me to drink it?” He asks slowly.

“No.” You laugh and make your way over to him. 

When you’ve climbed into the bed and cuddled up to Loki you place the warm bottle on his lower stomach and Loki actually groans. 

“I understand the intended use now.” He says in a grateful voice as the heat of the bottle penetrates his aching stomach. 

You smile at him but turn your attention to putting on a movie so Loki may rest here for awhile. 

See, thing is, it doesn’t stop. The cuddling, that is.

The next day Loki comes to you and asks if he may use your water bottle. When you tell him yes and go to give it to him he holds it, looking at it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. 

“Would you mind.....holding me as I use this?” Loki says in a soft voice, as if afraid he’s going to be rejected.

You can see tears welling up in his eyes when he looks up at you, which you blame on the period. You smile at Loki and nod. 

“Of course.” 

As you lay there with Loki wrapped in your arms, a movie playing in the background, he says, “While I am trying to keep an open mind about this whole situation, the blood clots are disgusting.” 

You laugh, causing Loki to smile up at you. 

“Have you bled through yet?” You ask him after awhile, curious. 

Loki scoffs. “Yes. I was wearing a nice pair of pants at the time. Natasha promised to get the blood out though.” He says with a frown. 

“If anyone here knows how to get blood out of clothes, Natasha would be the expert.” You chuckle out. 

“I must apologize to her. I was a bit snappy at the time because of the frustration of ruining a perfectly good pair of pants. She was close and received the brunt of my frustration.” Loki says, his fingers trailing down the side of your chest as he spoke, his eyes trained on the movie though.

Loki must not be ticklish, you absently think as his fingers drag over your sides and you don’t react. 

It happens again the next day. The day after that too, you both cuddle with the bottle and watch movies. 

When the period ends Loki still comes to your room and cuddles with you. It’s a routine now. Every evening, if there is nothing going on, Loki comes and you both relax into each other and watch movies and tv shows, casually talking or teasing the people in the movies. You refrain from teasing Loki personally until after the period has passed because you’d feel bad if you made him cry.

It’s nice, to say the least. 

What you don’t expect is Loki almost kissing you one day. 

It was a normal day, you were cuddling and watching Die Hard, teasing the actor when things were way exaggerated. You had been rambling on about how some of the action scenes could have ended had Bruce’s character did something else. You had noticed Loki looking at you with a twinkle in his eye but said nothing about it. You really looked down at him when he grabbed your chin and angled it just enough to where he could reach your lips. 

Loki pushes and crawls up, you laying beneath him, frozen. Your eyes roam his face, it’s a little weird looking at your face but you’re too invested in the moment, to invested in the switching bodies thing. His lips come to hover over yours, close enough you could close the distance in a blink but you stay rooted to the bed. You both breath each other in, eyes memorizing everything about this moment. 

Then the moment passes and Loki pulls from you. You let out a deep breath and blink. 

Surprisingly, Loki did not run, instead he cuddled back into you and continued conversation as if nothing had happened. You replied back casually, if not a little shaky from the anticipation you had just experienced. 

Tag list: @a-laufeyson​ 

[pen-paper-and-ink]

Champagne Problems

Chapter Three

Masterlist

Sam eventually went to back to his own apartment around noon, leaving Aelin with plenty of time to focus on her English assignment.  Instead of a final test in English, there was a final paper, and Aelin was struggling with what words to put down.

She knew the book inside and out; the words just were not coming to her today. She could usually just sit at her computer and let the words flow out of her, but that was not happening.  She eventually just went back and skimmed through her outline, getting herself to refocus. She finally gave up a half an hour later and resorted to texting Rowan.

“Want to come over and study.  I’ll order takeout from Emry’s. It will be just like old times.”

The response came only seconds later. “I’d love too, but some of us have class in an hour.”

She could practically here the snort in his reply. “Could you possibly skip this class and study with me instead?”

“I would but it’s the last class before the final, and I need the review.”

“Boo. You suck.” She emphasized with an emoji that was sticking its tongue out at him.

“See you later, Ace :)”She swore he refused to use emoji’s just to spite her.

When she was finally done pouting, she eventually pulled her phone back out to text Lysandra, who easily agreed to come over.  Although Lysandra was not diligent as Rowan when it came to studying and making study schedules, she was better than nothing, especially when Aelin was having trouble concentrating.

She showed up to Aelin’s apartment wearing an oversized fuzzy pink sweater and a pair of black leggings, as well as two chocolate bars.  She might now be Aelin’s favorite person.

She definitely was not Aelin’s favorite person the first time they met, though.  They were both petty and stubborn and got along about as well as cats getting a bath. That eventually changed the march of their freshmen year, when Aelin chased off a shady guy who was trying to follow a very drunk Lys into the bathroom at a frat house. Lysandra had been her constant companion since then, especially when it came to  topics including clothes and boys.

“Hello, Babe,” Lysandra chirped happily as she strode into Aelin’s apartment.  She shrugged off her bag and dropped the candy onto her plush sofa.  Aelin went to wrap her harms around Lysandra who returned the gesture. “I brought chocolate as a study motivator for the both of us, but you already smell of candy.”

Aelin groans. “Shut up.  Sam bought me this perfume, it’s his favorite.”

“Mhm,” Lysandra hums giving Aelin a conspiratorial grin, “I think he like’s that you’re his own personal snack.” Lysandra says wiggling her eyebrows.

Aelin only rolled her eyes at her friend, “whatever.”

“You smell good, babe, just really sweet. Even sweeter than that bath and body works body spray that everyone bathed their selves in in middle school, if that’s even possible. But I think he likes that.  How many times has he bitten your neck when you have been wearing it?” Lysandra asked with further eyebrow wiggling.

“You’re way too into our love life.  How long has it been since you’ve had date?” This time it was Aelin’s turn to wiggle her eyebrows.

“It’s been a while,” Lysandra moans loudly, but she turns her grin back onto Aelin, “but you didn’t answer my question.”

Aelin sighs loudly and slumps back onto her couch. “It’s not like he does it often.”

Lysandra snickers and she lounges next to Aelin. “So, I see it’s getting pretty serious. I even saw the picture he keeps of you in his wallet.”

“In his wallet?” Aelin snorts. “I didn’t think that people still did that. I thought the real milestone of a serious relationship was making a picture of your significant other your home screen on your phone.”

“Yes, you relationship guru.  Are you ready to study now?”

. . .

It turns out that Lysandra was the perfect person to get Aelin to finish her English paper.  About two hours after Lysandra arrived, Aelin had finished her paper, submitted it, and was able to eat her chocolate bar as a reward.  They then watched a shitty romcom on Netflix until Lysandra had to leave for her evening class.

That now left Aelin plenty of time to get ready to go to the Cadre’s for the night. It also gave Aelin some time to harass Rowan about his class.

“How was class?” Aelin texted.

“Good.  Did you finally finish your paper, you demon?  Bribing me with Emry’s and everything.” Rowan replied.

“I finished it and submitted it and everything. I even ate a celebratory chocolate bar without you.” She brags.

“I just wanted you to know that I am rolling my eyes at you.” Was his only response.

“Would it kill you to just use the emoji?” Aelin demanded.

“Yes.” Well at least she had her answer.

“See you at the Cadre’s in a few hours or so?” She inquired.

“Yes,” was once again his only response. Boys, Aelin thought rolling her eyes. What was with boys and their one-word answers.  With that, Aelin pulled up Spotify on her TV to blast some music as she prepared for her night.

She was having fun running around her apartment sing- screaming the lyrics to Teenage Dirtbag as she prepared dinner and tidied up her apartment.  Pop-rock and other angsty songs which she listened to as a teenager, always brought back fond memories.  Her friends always made fun of her emo music in high school, so she decided to switch to some more mainstream stereotypical party music when hanging out with her college friends. The mainstream stuff like Doja Cat and Cardi B, stuff that was always playing loudly at clubs and house parties.

Aelin also had a soft spot for love songs and romantic ballads.  Frank Sinatra always reminded her of her parents spinning around their living room on a weeknight.  She always thought that they were disgustingly in love. Always holding hands and kissing in front of her and her friends.  Aelin now regrets giving them crap about it, especially since the time they had together ended up being cut short.

She ends up eating her frozen pasta dinner over the kitchen island as she hummed along to an old fall out boy song. She went to check her phone and saw a message from Sam which simply asked if she was going to be at the Cadre’s in an hour, she sent back a simple yes as a response and finished up her dinner. Once she was done, she decided that it was probably time to get dressed for the night.

Aelin loved getting dressed up.  She found it calming.  Once she picked out an outfit she would methodically paint her face and do her hair. She scanned her overflowing closet, her gaze gliding over black cocktail dresses, sportswear, blazers, sun dresses, and band T’s.  She decided on a pair of skinny jeans and an oversized concert t-shirt since she just wanted to wear something simple, and the Cadre’s was a fairly run-down dive bar, though Aelin didn’t mind being overdressed, she loved her clothes and wasn’t afraid to show off and look fabulous doing so.

Once she was dressed, she went into her bathroom to do her makeup.  She blended concealer and foundation into her skin, and painstaking lined her eyes with black liquid liner.  She had decided on a classic cat eye with red lips, something you could never go wrong with.   She reached down for her tube of lipstick then remembered that Sam got kind of soppy and romantic when he was drunk and reached for a liquid lip instead.

She then quickly curled her hair and accessed her appearance.  Her skin was flawless, her eyebrows were groomed to perfection, the eyeliner accentuated her blazing blue-gold eyes wonderfully, and her crimson red lips went well with the look.  Her golden hair was voluminous in big beach waves, she overall was pleased with her appearance, especially after spending the entire day in lounge wear studying. It felt good to be put together after a day of lounging around her apartment while trying to write.  Overall Aelin thought she looked hot as fuck.

She quickly pulled on her heeled black booties, grabbed her bag and she was out the door.

. . .

The bar was so loud, the baseline of the song that was playing was all that could be heard.  Lysandra had left the group about an hour in, to go flirt with some guy she had met previously that night and had eventually went home with him, after checking in with Aelin.  Aelin dutifully took down the guys information, with Lys promising to check in with her later in the evening.  That left Aelin to hang with the guys.

They had all gathered tonight.  Sam, Lorcan, Conall, Fenrys, Rowan, and Aelin.  They had all had a few rounds and were now all laughing over stupid shit, even Lorcan, who Aelin didn’t know could even laugh before tonight.

They were all giddy over the thought of finishing the school year.  Rowan, Lorcan, and Sam were all graduating in a week, and Aelin and the twins were officially 75% done with their education.  There was a lot to celebrate and drink to.

Aelin’s thigh was pressed against Rowan’s in the booth as they started arguing over which actor was the best Spiderman. That was the one habit they had kept from the time when they hated each other, the arguing. Rowan and Aelin were known to argue over everything, though now the disagreements were over trivial things and mostly just involved teasing. Rowan was arguing in favor of Tobey Maguire, which Aelin made gagging noises over when he finally confessed as to who her thought the best actor was.

“I’m sorry to inform you,” Aelin started, elbow on the table starring up at her best friends face, “That we cannot be friends anymore.  I simply cannot be friends with anyone who thinks that Tobey Maguire makes a better Spiderman than Tom Holland.  That’s blasphemous, and I will not stand for it.”

“You can’t mess with the original, Ace.” Rowan responds looking serious. “He just cannot be beat.”

“Yeah, Ace.” Conall responds, apparently feeling the need to weigh in on their argument. Rowan frowns at him, no doubt from the fact that Conall called her Ace, which usually only Rowan called her that, with the exclusion of Sam who had recently gone about calling her that. Rowan has always felt a little possessive over the name Ace.

“No, No, No,” Fenrys butts in, his words slurring slightly, “I agree with Aelin. Tom Holland is simply the best. Also, have you seen his lip sync battle?  Tell me Tobey Maguire could pull that off. I dare you.”

“He can’t,” Aelin laughs, “He simply can’t.”

“I also agree that Tom Holland is the best Spiderman.” Sam says with a sly smile.

Rowan frowns at him.  “You’re only agreeing with Aelin because she’s your girlfriend.”

Sam laughs, gets up and slides onto the opposite booth and sits next to Aelin, “No, no one can compete with Holland’s acting chops.” He says as he throws his arm around Aelin’s shoulders.

“There’s only one way to decide then,” Conall says with a smirk. “Lorcan must be the deciding vote.”

Aelin and Fenrys both protest loudly, claiming Lorcan had no taste, and that Lorcan would choose Maguire just to spite them.

Rowan shuts the protests up by turning to Lorcan and asking for his vote.

Lorcan looks sheepishly around before he says, “I actually think Andrew Garfield plays the best Spiderman.”

The group eventually quiets back down, as the night begins to come to an end. Lorcan was the first one to head out, claiming he had a final tomorrow.  Fenrys left soon after, receiving a text from a semi-frequent hook-up asking him to come over.  Conall then convinced Sam to play darts with him, beating Sam every round.  Sam still seemed to be enjoying himself though, laughing every time he missed one of the rings, and once the board entirely. Aelin never understood why bar owners thought it was a good idea to put a dart board in the middle of drunk men with questionable aim, but who was she to question it.

Sam and Conall’s questionable game of darts did, however, leave Aelin and Rowan alone for the first time that night.  Aelin had been missing spending time with her best friend.  It seemed that every time they tried to get together, outside of their morning runs, they were busy or surrounded by other people.  

“So, how are you Buzzard?” Aelin asks with a slow smile.

“How are you, fireheart?” Rowan asks, far too seriously for the night they have been having.

Aelin’s heart begins to pound loudly in her chest. He hardly ever called her that, only when he was feeling particularly affectionate.

“All’s good.” She replied, still smiling.  Her heart pounded faster still when his fingers brushed against her cheek.

“An eyelash had fallen.” Was all Rowan said, still gazing at her with an intense stare.

“Oh.” Aelin said, “I hadn’t noticed.”

Rowan only gave her a sad smile as he stood up.  He ended up tripping while trying to remove himself from his seat, which made her burst out laughing.  Rowan, who was usually graceful to a fault, had tripped. He was more drunk than she had initially thought, he must be excited to be graduating.

“Do you need help?” Aelin asked.

“I am fine.” Rowan growled back.

“Are you sure about that?” Aelin asked, trying to hide her laughter. “You seem a little unsteady on your feet.”

“I’m fine, I’m going to head home for the night.” Rowan said, regaining his balance and his usual stoic expression. He grabbed his jacket from where he had been sitting.

“How about you come home with me,” Aelin offered. “You seem a bit unsteady there, Buzzard.”

“I’m fine,” Rowan said again. “I’ll get a cab. Goodnight.” Rowan threw her one last smile, then exited the bar, never bothering to turn back.

. . .

The dreams usually began with a dizzying array of colors, then quickly moved on to flashes of memory. Her heart begins to pound so loudly she can hear it in her head, in her dreams.  Once her senses are overwhelmed with the shadow of memories and the deafening sound of her own heartbeat, is when she would stop breathing. The lack of air is what usually wakes her from her slumber.

Aelin Galathynius quickly padded across the floor of her bedroom to her bathroom, closing the door behind her, where she then vomited into the toilet. She always made sure the door to the bathroom was closed and locked, so Sam could not hear her, or accidently open the bathroom door in the middle of the night to find her lying on the floor next to the toilet.

After Aelin was done emptying the contents of her stomach into the toilet, she slumped down onto the floor.  The cool tile against her back, where her loose sleep camisole did not cover, always seemed to ground her.  The hot flashes, the insanity from the dreams and then the vomiting always began to dissipate once she felt the cool tile against her body.

She laid on the floor for a while, breathing in and out and waiting for her pulse to return to normal. The memories she tried to escape during her day, where always ruthlessly unleashed during the night, pursuing her where she could not escape them. Although she couldn’t escape the dreams and memories, they were significantly better within the last few years, only occurring every once in a while, instead of every night.

Aelin thought back to her freshmen year, where she would drink all night long, or get into fights, just to try to stay awake just a little longer so she wouldn’t have to face what was waiting in her subconscious.  Aelin was good at that, pushing things away, not examining anything too closely in case it might trigger a panic attack.

Aelin would eventually have to get up, brush her teeth and make her way back to bed where her loving boyfriend was sleeping, but she allowed herself to rest for a moment more on the floor.  Though Sam knew what happened when she was eighteen in veiled terms, and through short bursts of vulnerability, she couldn’t get herself to admit to him that she still had panic attacks, and nightmares from her previous years. In fact, the only person who knew she still suffered through them was Rowan.

Rowan was her constant star and steadfast companion when it came to the pain of suddenly losing someone. He was also well aware of the way she tried to deal with it afterward, for that was how they found each other.  They were both so wrapped up in their grief and their own self destruction that they couldn’t see the other person in front of them. When Aelin pulled her head out of her ass, as Aedion called it, and finally called a truce with Rowan, and later became friends with him, is when Aelin realized that they had the same grief festering inside them.  They also had the same self-destructive streak, so they vowed to find their way out of the madness and grief together.

For a moment Aelin wished Rowan was with her, gently coaxing her get up and brush her teeth, rubbing his hand on her back soothingly, waiting for her pulse to slow back down. Rowan always knew how to reach her, how to soothe her.

Aelin slowly got up, and eventually made her way back to her sleeping boyfriend who was unaware that anything had happened. She tried to fall asleep next to her boyfriend, but she couldn’t, she was too busy wishing Rowan was beside her with his soothing touch luring her back to sleep.

Taglist

@rowaelinismyotp

[creativeashproductions]

Elysium // Luke Patterson

Summary: The boys of Julie and the Phantoms need a hail Mary to dethrone Downslide from opening for Panic! At the Disco. While Willie is done to help his blue eyed crush and his friends there’s one issue: Willie can’t drive the bus. Moving a bench is one thing but driving an entire tour bus?  There’s only one person who can and Willie’s not sure where she is after year of no communication

Warnings: Swearing, angst, talk of death (it’s a ghost show, why is this a warning??), mention of assault, violence, and fluff.

Words: 11.5k

A/N: This is why I haven’t posted much in the last week. I’ve been writing this massive fic that I refused to turn into a series. My god, 11k words. I don’t think I’ll be doing this again. Enjoy and comment if you figured out who Rudy is!

Masterlist

There wasn’t much in the afterlife that you enjoyed after time spent in the limbo between the living and dead. Listening to songs before they were released lost its appeal just as much as dancing on stage with the ballet companies around the world, of being an unseen extra in shows and films being filmed.

Then you found a purpose a couple, well it could be more than a couple, years ago when you found a lost soul. William Young, Willie to his friends, had been sitting on the curb staring at the pavement entirely still as he had for two days.

The time from the last breath you took to walking the streets of Los Angeles was a blur in all honesty. The years bled together as you stayed stationary in a world that kept on spinning and changing, growing up. You had watched your friends hit new milestones you could only daydream about. Friends that graduated college and built new lives on the ashes of memories that included you.

Today’s walk was an attempt to escape your friends’ greying versions standing in front of a once vibrant sculpture. It happened every single year, but this one hurt the most. Listening to your friends recall stories of all the adventures you did together.

From being drunken idiots jumping off cliffs into that one lake the summer of freshman year. Or making a bonfire on the school’s roof with all the entryways blocked, rather stupid with the exits being blocked as well. Sneaking into concerts and stealing that one car that came close to sending you to boarding school.

The rebellion that still lived in you had mellowed in the five individuals with the adult responsibilities of family and work. Martha had removed all piercings but her lobes while Chase quit dying his hair colour. Jordan now had three children and a bought house.

Seeing the group no longer young had made your feet swiftly move from the memorial for a walk. The only thing that stopped you in your tracks was tripping over something in front of you.

“Ouch.” You hissed rolling onto your back with a moan of pain that faded with the sniffles.

Curled into his knees, sitting on the curb was a teenage boy about your age. Long hair curtaining his profile you found your eyes grasping the cracked helmet that spoke for itself abandoned by his side.

“Your kinda a hazard there.” You simply spoke sitting down next to the distraught teenager, “Heads up, I suck at comforting people.”

At his silence, you spoke once more, “I’m digging the tie-dye. Did you do it yourself?”

“This is some kind of stupid coma dream right?” The boy’s voice was husky from crying and disuse, “I’m probably in some kind of hospital with a tube down my throat.”

“I’d say yes, but it would be a blatant lie.” You spoke twirling a loose thread on your jeans while the stranger gazed at a spot on the street.

His dark brown eyes bloodshot as he remembered the car honking mere seconds before he heard the sound of a thud. He recalled struggling to breathe with his broken ribs and his screams being illustrated with bloodstains.

He remembered thinking how he had just bought that board a week ago with his allowance.

“Am I really dead?”

“Yes. We’re are a couple ghosts in a lively city.” You informed him with one handheld in the space between your ethereal forms. The teen hesitantly placed his hand in yours with a firm shake.

“William but call me Willie.” He softly told you, catching sight of the patch on your jean jacket—one of many from both when your grandma owned it and then when you did.

“I’m Y/N. Let’s blow this disappointment. I’m gonna teach you everything you need to know.” Brushing off the invisible dust on your jeans, you held your hand out to him, “We’re about to make the afterlife our bitch.”

A stark contrast to his former hesitance he immediately grasped your hand to tug himself off the curb. The forlorn skater didn’t question the board in your hand or how he could possibly even touch his own board. He didn’t wonder how it wasn’t in pieces like it had been when he first got hit.

That rebellion that ended your life flared again in the presence of your best friend with crashing Justin Bieber’s house. Of rearranging items in classrooms to freak teachers out and sitting in the cars turning the radio on and off. Haunting the living until the friendship fractured under the influence of a powerful ghost.

Caleb Covington had bewitched the skater with promises and extravagant gifts until Willie had taken the offer.

“He’s not like you said he was! I think you should give him a chance!” Willie cried following you around the place you had taken to be home.

“Willie he’s a bad guy! He butters you up until you give him what you want! That’s when you see his true colours. All he wants is your soul to power his magic and spread his reach!”

“I got to talk to my sister!”

“Your sister is five years old! It’s not Covington that gave you the opportunity. She won’t remember the experience as anything other than an invisible friend!”

“There are so many people at the Club that we can talk to. Aren’t you tired of the same routine and people we see?”

Willie’s pleading brought your full attention to the skater avoiding your gaze, “William Young…you took his offer.”

Willie tore his gaze from the art on the wall to find yours blatantly glaring at him with a bucket of random colour in your hand.

“The Club is going to France to tour around the country for a while. I’m dead, so I might as well make the best of it. Besides who gets to skate through the Louvre!” Willie beamed, watching as a small smile, found its way on your face at his excitement, “I’m sure Caleb would let you come to the Club tonight!”

“Willie, you are my best friend, but I’ve already seen the Club. It’s not my style, and I want nothing to do with it.”

That interaction was one of the very few speckled through the years when Caleb discovered who you were. No matter his offers, you never took the deal and when he saw how close you and Willie where he kept the skater busy. The Club didn’t appear in Los Angeles for a long time until Willie’s distance seemed too great to bridge.

“So, you need a way for the slot to be empty?” Willie asked the trio of ghosts all spread around the area.

Unfortunately for Luke, the only person they could get help from was from the very guy that placed them in a predicament. While Alex was the one spearheading the conversation with the long-haired skater Luke was glowering in his direction.

“The Orpheum was the thing we never got to do. We spent hours practising and performing with one goal-“

“Play the Orpheum and get distance from our parents. Well, at the time that streetdog and becoming legendary was my main focus.” Reggie recounted the feeling of suffocating in a house filled with fighting. A home he wished still stood, now dead all he wanted was to see his parents.

“We almost did it too.” Luke pouted relaxing his glare at the skater who openly sent apologetic gazes at Alex’s bandmates.

“So, we need to get rid of the opening band.” Willie nodded to himself, thinking about ways before he caught sight of the abject horror on the band. The skater’s eyebrows raised, “I know I deeply fractured the trust, but I’m not suggesting murder.”

“Okay. Good.” Reggie whistled relaxing his tense posture while Luke grumbled under his breath an insult that in turn got Alex’s arm into the guitarist’s ribs.

“Your best bet would be getting the bus out of LA. The band will probably celebrate the upcoming gig.”

“Could you make the bus disappear?” Alex hesitantly questioned shifting in his now vintage sneakers. The blonde-haired drummer flushed slightly under the endearing smile from the skater. The feelings create a confliction within Alex under Willie’s issue, leading them straight into a madman’s hands.

“I can move a bench, turn sirens on, but a bus is outside my paygrade.” Willie openly admitted showing his hands deep in his pockets, “The only person other than Caleb that has enough power-“

“-is he just as evil?” Luke demanded crossing his arms to glare at the male that had unfortunately caught the interest of Alex.

However, Luke couldn’t blame Alex for falling for this guy because well, Luke saw the teenage ghost’s appeal. Willie was attractive, but he wasn’t the type of person Luke would fall for. Plus he had initially made Alex incredibly happy, and Luke would never blame Alex for that.

“She is as different from Caleb as one can be. She uh…she taught me everything about being a ghost. Actually, found me where I died.” Willie cleared his throat as the guilt and sadness reared its head from deep within him. The guilt of leaving his little sister to grow up without him and the sorrow of not growing up with the girl.

It wasn’t often Willie allowed himself to remember the little girl, barely five when he died, who was always dancing. His little sister adored the colour purple and anything shiny and more than once Willie had let her dress him up. Willie’s greatest regret is that he’d never have that interaction with her. God, she’d be around his age now and in high school.

“Okay, so where is she?” Reggie clapped his hands, bringing the skater out of his thoughts and back into the present.

Luke saw the hesitation in Willie, “There’s a catch, isn’t there?”

“Kinda?” Willie trailed off bouncing on the balls of his feet, “I haven’t seen her in years now. Last time I saw her we fought about the whole joining Caleb thing? I’m not even sure if she’s still in LA.”

“Of fucking course,” Luke grunted shoving both hands in his hair taking a few steps away from the other ghosts.

First, he dies, then he gets caught up in some bullshit revenge plot, then makes a deal with the devil without realizing it, and now their one chance is going up in flames. Luke Patterson was livid with the universe and the shitty hand he had been dealt, but at least he had his friends with him.

“It can’t hurt to look for her?” Reggie innocently offered with a shake of his shoulders, “It’s not like we have any other option.”

“Did we ever even have options?” Luke hissed, causing Willie and Alex each to flinch with the different guilt they carried.

Alex was guilty of going to Willie for help when getting back at Bobby was the biggest thing. Willie was guilty of ignoring his instincts on keeping Alex as far from Caleb as he could be he just wanted to impress the drummer. It’s not like Willie had many options for dating, and well, Alex was the first to get his entire focus.

“Dude. Stop. No one saw it coming.” Reggie bumped his hip against the annoyed guitarist, “Let’s find this ghost and get our shot at playing.”

The quartet of dead guys didn’t have high hopes of finding the girl in question, but it seemed the universe took pity on Luke Patterson. Just two hours into their search on the edges of the city limits an individual was walking.

The person’s stature leaned against a smashed concrete wall of the skeleton of where a building once was. The only thing the group could make out was a faded jean jacket with splotches of colour. Her ankles crossed as her back leaned against the cement, oozed laid back confidence. Coming closer, Luke noticed the sunglasses perched on top of her head and the lips painted dark.

“What do you need Willie? I heard you were looking for me.” The husky voice drew Luke in the most. The lead guitarist of Julie and the Phantoms enamoured with the girl.

“How’d-“Willie’s question was cut off as you simply tapped your right index finger against your temple.

“How do you think you managed to get here?” You inquired pushing off the cement to stride over to the group. To Willie’s surprise, he was tugged into your embrace before swiftly pushed away, “Come on. We should head in before someone catches us.”

In the dark as much as the other three ghosts, Willie dutifully followed you past the pieces of cement littered around the area. Gasps of surprise sounded as the once empty space became filled with buildings. It was not as extravagant as the hotel the Club worked out of, but it was hidden from the living and dead eyes.

“Where did this come from?” Reggie gasped astounded by the people once hidden from his view, moving around the area. 

“This is Elysium. Don’t judge the name I lost the right in a poker game with Susie and Rudy. I’m Y/N.” You informed the group leading them to the gate where two people stood stoically guarding it, “Rudy was hellbent on calling it Valhalla.”

“This is Luke, Reggie and Alex.” Willie gestured to the awed trio of musicians only lingering on the blonde. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to see the attraction between the skater and the blonde; finding a date in the afterlife was a lot harder than the living.

Nodding a greeting to the two ghosts, you lead the group to a building painted a pretty turquoise blue colour. The sign above the double doors a stark white with calligraphy writing simply stating Elysium Management. It was a building set up like an administrative office of three stories, and you led the group right up to the top floor.

“Just a heads up…Rudy is a little suspicious of people.” You admitted standing outside a door with a nameplate the only descriptor, “He’ll come off a little gruff and rude, but when you get passed that he doesn’t shut up.”

“I can hear you through the door dumbass.” The words were called out from the office door opening.

The man standing in the entry wore a crisp white dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His honey-brown eyes lit up with a teasing look before it shuttered at the sight of four strangers behind you. Rudy had valid reasons to not fully trust people after the shitshow in his hometown when he was alive.

“And you’ve brought strangers.” Rudy deadpanned with a sigh concluding his sentence as he stepped back into the office. It appeared like the world repositioned itself on the young man’s shoulders once more.

“I should be done within the hour. We can go over everything.” You informed your business partner and friend. Receiving only a nod from Rudy, you closed the door to his office, cutting off the view from your guests.

“He’s..uh.”

“Standoffish? Rudy keeps his past to himself, all he’s ever revealed is that he’s from a town a few hours away.” You spoke, opening the door to your own office decorated differently from Rudy’s more sterile black and white aesthetic.

Your office had splashes of colour with vintage posters of both music and film framed on the walls—a plush couch in the corner with a basket of blankets next to it. Instead of sitting behind the dark desk, you chose the couch instead. As you settled in the corner, you flicked one finger bringing an extra seat over.

The motion shocking the three boys accompanying Willie who had seen the abilities himself.

“Okay so why did you want to search for me?” You questioned the skater leaning back in the seat.

“When did this all happen?” Willie countered gesturing to the office in a building settled in the middle of a ghost town. A literal ghost town.

“There’s an empty lot in LA that used to house an abandoned apartment building that Rudy and I both called home. Of course, it was torn down, and we kinda knew that there’s wasn’t a place that didn’t have the threat of being annihilated at some point.” The memories of those unknown days trickled into your mind among the more positive ones, “We wanted a home. A place to call our own.”

“A week or so later a skittish pixie of a brunette crashed into us full speed. Susie had a certain ability that Caleb desired to have under his thumb. There are so many ghosts he had manipulated into selling him their soul. Rudy and I both wanted to stop Caleb from having that chance for everyone.” You continued, “Can I show you?”

The moon shone through the light clouds as a duo wandered LA’s streets in different mental states. The only home you had known had been unceremoniously ripped down with no future plans in place. Your entire life had been in that apartment in a building you had once thought only you inhabited. You had been unaware that on a separate floor, Rudy had been dwelling.

The two teens in starkly different clothing grew close with each other through the whole being the dead thing they shared. The mission was to find another place too, use but the feeling of home being ripped away tore at their hearts. The apartment was a place Caleb Covington hadn’t been aware of.

Your thoughts threatened to turn darker as a force knocked you onto your bac—aA short brunette groaning in pain to the left of you. The girl was Gwen, who would become very important to both Rudy and you.

I’ve always been a little different than most people. I can move things short distances, but I developed a specific talent. I can get inside people’s minds to plant, remove or alter memories or simply talk and read their thoughts.

The sound of your voice in their heads freaked them out more than they would like to admit. The intrusive tickle of something in their brains unsettling as you made a more present entry so they could feel it.

“What?”

“This is why I can’t be anywhere near Caleb. The whole reason he gives people stamps and takes their souls is because of me.” You fully admitted clasping your fingers in your lap, “He couldn’t cope with the fear of another ghost leaving so added a stipulation to joining his Club.”

“How did you come to create Elysium?” Alex inquired leaning forward in his seat to rest his elbows on his knees. Luke and Reggie followed his posture as the anticipation built.

“Everyone deserves a safe place. A place as far away from Caleb as possible and we do so for free. No fee is required, and ghosts are free to come and go as they please. They are welcome as long as their unfinished business keeps them in this plane.”

It sounded like a sweet deal to the group of teens, but they had other commitments, “You can tell us more, but we need your help.”

The pleading in the messy-haired brunette tore at your heartstrings like the one time Willie brought you to his house. It had been shortly before your friendship fractured, a few years ago. He had brought you to a suburb for low-income families and straight to the backyard where a twelve-year-old year danced.

The dead skater boy and the rebel sat in the patio chair on the tiny porch nestled in the postmark sized backyard. A quintet of pre-pubescent girls danced on the lawn to some bubblegum pop song. The Young girl was submissive to a more confident girl even when the venue was the Young girl’s home.

“The girl to the left is my little sister Kayla. She’s twelve now, it’s been seven years since I died.” Willie’s brown eyes saddened at the dancer who had a spark of maturity in her eyes, “I check in every once in a while. These are Kayla’s friends. The bossy girl is Carrie, and while the band is a group, she is the unofficial leader of the band Carrie’s Constellations.”

 “She looks happy.”

“Kayla’s always been bubbly in personality, but she had questionable friends.” Willie outright admitted keeping his eyes pinned to the girl that had grown up in a blink of an eye. Her dark hair concealed by the gaudy purple wig; the colour assigned to the teenager.

“It’s nice that she still enjoys dance.” Willie finished reaching out to grab your hand in his and just like that Willie transitioned back into carefree, “I found this really cool skatepark I think you’d like.”

“We don’t have a lot of time.” Alex winced as the three musicians flinched as a sudden purple spark of colour lit up their midsections.

Like a tentacle, your mind reached into the quiet raven-haired boy with the leather jacket. Beyond the imagery of docile golden retrievers and steaming plates of food, you found the regret and fear in the boy. Stepping into a recent memory, you watched their experience at the Hollywood Ghost Club.

“You’ve met Caleb.” You sighed roughly pushing your index finger between your brows feeling the familiar ache.

“It was a stupid decision,” Luke spoke up, tearing his focus from the mysterious girl that ultimately had the power in her hands. The entire plan was weighing on the decision you would give, “Either we join his house band, or we don’t exist.”

“Hm.” You spoke as the kaleidoscope of colours in Luke’s eyes glittered under the sterile lights of the room. It was difficult to look away from the enthralling teenage ghost, but the emotion wafting off Willie was concerning.

“They died before they could perform at the Orpheum. We’re banking that getting the opening slot with giving them the push into crossing over.” The long-haired skater leaned closer, “I know we haven’t talked in a while, but I can’t do much.”

“So, you want to pull ’09 incident again?” You completely ignored the trio on the couch staring directly at the sheepish skater with raised eyebrows, “Only this time without the train?”

“Train?” Alex whispered, looking between the two long-time friends with interest and then next thing he knew Alex was in the backseat of a van crushed between Reggie and Luke equally confused.

Chicago, Illinois 2009

William Young and Y/N Y/L/N were complete hellions in the ghost world, creating havoc that fascinated the living population. The recent event being the highjacking of a van filled with drunk teenage boys. These boys had been the sole reason a young girl was recovering in a hospital with life-threatening injuries. The scene changed to a hospital room with Willie and Y/N watching a girl with massive bruising laid.

It had hit both Willie and Y/N hard catching the tail end of the new report, Willie thinking of how that could have been his sister. Even if Kayla was only five years old, having a sister set things more in perspective. For you it was a flashback to when you were alive and thus led you to the ICU room for the girl.

Slipping into her unconscious mind was easy but while the injured teen appeared peaceful to the hospital staff, she was anything but. The poor girl’s mind replayed the traumatic incident over and over like a movie; keeping in the shadows, you gently repainted the portrait with lighter and brighter images. 

For Willie, he watched as you wavered on your ghostly feet and smoothed out the features of the girl. The heart monitor subtly changing as the injured girl relaxed, and suddenly your interference heightened her chances of survival.

“I got it.” You spoke to Willie with a heated glare on your features and when the ghostly musician trio blinked they were back in the van.

Your hands gripped the van’s steering wheel with Willie turned in the passenger seat to watch a group of living boys scream. To the living eyes in the van, no one was in the front seats but whispered words spoke into their minds.

You’re going to go straight to the police and tell them what you did. You’ll hand over the photographic evidence and demand the worst punishment. You’ll leave the girl alone, or we’ll come back to finish our job. You will pay for the hospital bills if the family agrees. 

The boys trembled with the putrid scent of urine permeating the enclosed vehicle. The distant sound of a train echoed in the distance as the van stopped on the tracks. No matter how much the living boys moved the doors refused to open, and the windows remained unbreakable.

“WE promise!” The ringleader cried, slamming his shoulder against the door with the train’s bright lights illuminating the van.

“Let us go!” The other screamed, slamming his bruising hands on the window.

Alex was flinching at each slam of fists on the glass, leaving smears of blood. Knuckles broke from the window. At the very last second, your foot slammed the gas pedal taking the van millimetres from the train screeching on the tracks.

You and Willie stared at the stationary train lit up from the van’s headlights with the rhythmic flashes of the red and blue police lights. The van’s seat arrangement was different with the ringleader in the driver’s seat. 

The three ghost musicians standing unseen behind the duo but in the real world out of the dreamlike memory you knew.

Elysium, Present Day

“Holy fucking shit.” Alex cussed out of breath, leaning back on the couch with shaking limbs and fear in his bloodless veins.

Luke’s eyes blinked owlishly at the boy that he had once thought could never do something as terrifying and torturous. He was afraid to even ask the outcome of the life-threatening incident you did on the assailants.

“That is the reason for the train.” You barely glanced at the shaken trio to stare at who had once been your partner in crime, “Willie, I have responsibilities here. We just opened a new division for the children we house here.”

“It would take a few hours.” Willie pleaded, positioning his hands into a pleading position turning on his charm. The puppy eyes you had always struggled to say no to as if you weren’t the type of person easily capable of staying strong.

“We’ll do anything.” Luke pleaded just as much recalling the countless times he had charmed himself out of situations, “Please help us.”

“I’ll have to make arrangements with Rudy and Susie, but I might be able to pull some strings. I’m really sorry Willie, but I’m gonna need to erase your knowledge of this place. There are too many people depending on this setup.”

Outside the Orpheum

Outside the legendary venue, three out of four band members for Julie and the Phantoms walked up to the marquee. Hopefully, the letters for Downslide would be changed into their band name just under the main act. Everything was riding on Willie and Y/N’s capabilities. Trusting the skater was challenging to do and more so someone they didn’t fully know.

“Look, don’t worry, guys. Willie said he’d get us on that marquee.” Alex soothed his friends on each side of him. All three wearing concerned expressions at the place that hopefully was their last stop before crossing over.

“This is gonna work, right?” Reggie questioned with his hand confidently sliding into the pockets of his black jeans. The relaxed posture a juxtaposition to the anxiety and nerves on his flushed face.

“It has to.” Luke’s lips pursed into a pout with his words tinged with a dialect different from his best friends. The faint souvenir from the place he spent a few years growing up before moving to LA.

Luke’s words were highlighted by the groans of pain as that flash of purple courtesy of Caleb’s death stamp appeared. All three hunched over clutched their chests breathing through the pain; Luke was the first to unfurl his form.

“Whoa!” You gasped flashing underneath the marquee beside Willie. Rushing to give Luke support without even a second thought.

When the aftershock faded, the guitarist stood straight up with a thankful smile that boarded on adoration.

“Are you guys, okay?” Willie asked, keeping back with the swell of guilt that happened, seeing the familiar symptoms of post-shock. He had felt them a time or two in the time he had sold his soul to his unfortunate boss.

“Yeah, it’s nothing we haven’t felt before,” Alex replied, rubbing his hand over the baby blue shirt he had chosen today. His blue eyes doing their best to avoid looking into the puppy-like ones of the skater, “How’d it go?”

“Well, when that opening band wakes up, they’re gonna find their bus 200 miles outside of Vegas.” Willie proudly announcing turning on his heel to show off the Downslide jacket he took from the lead singer. His fist extending to bump yours instinctively before he did so with Luke.

“With no chance of getting back in time.” You snickered in response living on the adrenaline and nostalgia of the rebellion. With Elysium, you had turned around your life, “Meaning-“

“-there’s probably a promoter upstairs right about now freakin’ out.”

 “Nah. This is Hollywood, man.” Willie scoffed with a wave of his hand matching the one you supplied, “I’m sure he’s being very professional.”

As Willie finished his sentence up in the promotor’s office out of earshot of the ghosts stood a very pissed adult. His finger-wagging his finger with teeth clenched, his flushed skin a juxtaposition to the cheery blue Hawaiian style shirt. Frank Wolfe couldn’t believe how stupid his once opening band was.

“What do you mean the bus drove itself into the middle of the desert?” Frank questioned progressively growing more and more frustrated. His assistant Tasha casting concerned looks to her typically collected boss, “BUSES DON’T DRIVE THEMSELVES!”

Tasha flinched at the sudden loud growl of the sentence but more so as Wolfe starting slamming the phone into the cradle. Her fingers halting on her keyboard, going over the list of frequent acts. Unfortunately, the five acts had other commitments causing Tasha to fear tonight. The blonde lady was worried Wolfe could have a breakdown once more.

While Willie snickered to his own words, your eyes, not your mind, could read that Alex wanted to talk to the skater. With only a teasing jab of your elbow in Willie’s ribs you shuffled around the drummer to join Reggie and Luke away from the ‘will they won’t they’ couple.

“So, can you do me a favour?” Luke hesitantly questioned you with his inquisitive eyes a greener colour in the sunlight. His attractive eyes took your full attention with a simple tilt of your head, “Julie’s family means a lot to us, and could you keep an eye on them?”

“And Carlos,” Reggie interjected rocking on his polished pleather boots he had spent ages on finding for his rocker aesthetic back in the ’90s.

“-Julie’s little brother.” Luke supplied at the confusion painted clearly on your pretty features. His green eyes scoured your face as he always did that flushed both his and your faces red.

“Yeah, of course, I can.” You firmly told the two dead boys each standing tense in front of you.

You could easily see the love they held for the living family that had come to mean so much in such a short amount of time. Since first meeting them you had always gotten the feeling that their living years weren’t the best. For Alex, it was living in the ’90s as a young gay teenager during a terrifying time for the LGBTQ+ community. Reggie flinched at the raised voices, and Luke had longingly stared after the happy families milling around the Elysium.

“Did you ever find out what your unfinished business was?” Reggie inquired fixing a strand of his dark hair that had fallen onto his blemish-free skin. Your smile faltered at his question; nonetheless, you answered.

“I did.” The two words carried a sense of pain with them. Your eyes unfocused recalling the euphoric feeling of seeing the breathtaking white light of the peace exuding from the beyond and the agony of denying crossing over.

“How-“

“Hey! Y/N!” Willie called out to the young denim wearing ghost with his beaming grin, “Don’t go stealing buses without me!”

Luke swore he could see your laughter in the air, just as endearing as the smoky quality your voice carried.

“Don’t go glitter bombing criminals.” You returned as your best friend dropped his board to skate off to wherever he was needed. It was bittersweet to reconnect with him knowing that it could be the last time.

When Caleb found out, not an if but a when Willie had a hand in helping his desired band it was high chance Willie would be gone. Caleb was all too powerful, and when he was betrayed, it never ended well.

“I need to get back to Elysium. Susie’s arrival is tonight. Good luck with tonight.” Your words were accompanied by a hug for each of the boys. The one with Luke lingering the most, “I wish you could play for the kids.”

“Yeah. Me too.” The brunette, messy-haired boy’s words carried a hidden desire simply to be in your space more. The teenage ghost helps those in limbo while wearing a jean jacket with patches from many decades. The jacket creating an unknown time you had lived.

“Goodbye, boys.” You told the trio before you poofed away from the busy streets of Hollywood where the band had come full circle in death.

“Are you guys, okay?” Reggie inquired his best friends, forgoing his casual personality for the layers underneath. His blue-green eyes filled with only concern.

Alex and Luke shared a lingering look, “Yeah. We’re okay.”

The dining hall was filled with long tables and chairs populated by the ghostly forms of everyone currently living at Elysium. It was reminiscent of a British book turned film series of youth with magic abilities. The series had been a favourite of a former resident.

“Incredible.” Susie breathed staring at the joyful people having a place to call home. Making the limbo between life and death more bearable.

“We’ve done well. You smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist, “It’s so nice to have you back.”

Elysium was so much more than you could ever hope for. It kept growing and growing with more ghosts. Since the founding of the haven, new developments continuously happened with one resident’s unique ability.

Harvey had joined the haven a year into the founding bringing the ability to gift the residents with the capacity to eat. During his life, Harvey had been a renowned chef and the dream to make food it carried into his death. As long as Harvey cooked the food with his volunteer staff ghosts were able to eat it.

“Harvey has outdone himself again,” Rudy announced his arrival at your side with his arms crossed, displaying his corded muscles. The constellation of moles on his face standing on his pale creamy skin.

“Rudy!” Susie squealed, throwing herself into his arms with the same glee that came each time. Susie and Rudy since their first meeting had a special bond as chosen siblings who bonded over heartache.

Rudy had died, leaving his best friend and his strawberry blonde girlfriend in the living world back in their dark hometown. It was just one tidbit he had revealed throughout your friendship. The only physical connection to his living friends was the three picture on his desk of a group of people.

The first picture had a lean version of Rudy with his arms thrown over a Hispanic boy with a crooked jaw and glimmering brown eyes. The Hispanic boy had his arm around a pretty brunette girl with deep dimples and wavy brown hair. The two boys wore a sports uniform of some kind holding lacrosse sticks.

The second picture had Rudy and the Hispanic teen again but with a beautiful petite strawberry blonde. Along with them was a brunette with blunt chin-length hair and hardened features besides a shorter blonde male with blue eyes.

The last picture was of Rudy with the same Hispanic boy wearing graduation caps and gowns with two beaming adults. The male adult wore a tan shirt adorned with a star on his left pec and dark brown pants. He had to be Rudy’s father with similar features. The woman was of Hispanic descent with laugh lines, and thick dark curly hair pulled into a half do; obviously the Hispanic teen’s mother.

The pain in Rudy’s face each time he saw the pictures closed off a desire to ask him about the people.

“Hello, Susie.” Rudy chuckled, wrapping his arms around her small stature, “How was Europe?”

“Why don’t you ask the five newcomers I found before Caleb?” Susie teased gesturing to the ragtag of new ghosts immersed in conversations.

“Family?”

“A boarding school had a fire. Those five were in the fire when it happened and the only victims out of seven that didn’t cross over.” Susie’s tone faded into a melancholy tone with her small arms wrapping around her middle. Faded brown eyes staring at the younger of the five seeing herself in them.

“That’s terrible.” You whispered, staring at the table with one finger picking the patch of a band from the ’70s, “I can’t imagine how scary that could have been.”

“Yeah.” Susie softly spoke, pushing a strand of her hair off her temple just as equally sad for the way that death had no qualms of how it took.

The youngest ghost in Elysium had been a three-year-old toddler who passed over quickly when he was found by the deceased mother. The two had been separated at death and luckily shared the same unfinished business of finding each other.

“Miss Reynold’s has twelve spirits that finished their business.” Rudy softly informed his two partners. Soft smiles formed on their faces at the happy news of Elysium’s goal being accomplished again.

“May they find everlasting peace and serenity.” Your words intertwined with Susie in perfect sync of the motto coined after the first crossover, “I suppose the Serenity will begin planning?”

“Have the Serenity ever not performed their duty?” Rudy raised one dark eyebrow with a rhetorical question. E/c and faded brown met recalling the countless times Elysium had hosted a celebration for those who found their unfinished business.

“That is-whoa.” You gasped stumbling at the scream echoing in your mind accessorized with the vintage sound of a band.

Calloused hands grasped your shaking form from collapsing onto the ground from a proverbial psionic shove. Agony slammed your brain flickering into an old fashioned club filled with people in both colour or black and white attire. You caught sight of baby pink, deep royal blue and bright red suits. The pained screams of a skater in a dark room overtaking the music in the Club.

“No.” You whispered clenching your hands on your head, feeling the dread building in the pit of your stomach.

The joyful voices in the hall muted while your body flickered with the deep instinct to leave the haven for the one place that utterly terrified you. It was the familiar touch of Susie and Rudy that kept you from finding the one person that meant the world. Willie’s soul was on the cutting board, and Caleb obsession with performing was the only reason Willie still existed.

“Willie.” You whimpered tears rolling down your flushed cheeks, feeling the panic in the skater’s mind.

“Susie help me.” Rudy stonily spoke ushering the distraught girl from the busy hall into an empty room.

Your shaking body finding purchase on the plush sofa with Susie holding one hand in hers and Rudy brushing the sweaty hair from your forehead. It wasn’t often your psionic abilities left you in such a state, but the distance proved difficult.

“Shit.” Rudy grumbled frowning, “This is bad. Y/N, we need to get you to Willie. You’re flickering, and the distance isn’t helping.”

“You want to take one of Elysium’s strongest ghosts straight into Caleb’s domain? You know how much he wants her in his Club.” Susie hissed to the co-founder of the haven they had to take extraordinary measures to protect, “It won’t work! You’re throwing her to the dogs!”

“Susanne I wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t necessary. Besides, we always have a plan.” Rudy retorted narrowing his whiskey eyes at the younger girl, “I’ll take her to get Willie, but you need to stay here to make sure everything runs smooth.”

“Are you sure you can-“Susie cut herself off with a nod as Rudy displayed the reason he could do it, “Okay, yep, you can do it.”

Rudy came back into her vision in his signature position with one eyebrow raised, and his arms crossed. The reason why Elysium worked so well was Rudy’s ability to erase an object from the view of anyone. He could make himself invisible to anyone and in practice, developed it to hide items and location. With his ability, Elysium was permanently hidden to anyone outside of his power. Illusions were his unique ability.

“You aren’t the first person to doubt my capability.” Rudy informed the other ghost reaching one hand out. With his fingers caressing your temple, he snapped his fingers, transporting you and him away from Elysium.

The empty room of Elysium’s dining hall was exchanged for the business streets of Los Angeles, bringing an improvement in your body. Pushing away from Rudy, your eyes frantically scoured the unfamiliar area for any hint of Willie.

“He’s close.” You exclaimed closing your e/c eyes to focus solely on your sixth sense kicking in. Rudy’s gasp snapped your eyes open to see his eyes pinned on your feet where a glowing neon purple smoke wisped.

“What is that?” Rudy demanded crouching to touch it, but it was like nothing was there. His whiskey brown eyes meeting your confused gaze.

“I have no clue, but I feel like I have to follow it.” Robotically your feet started walking following the smoke through the streets.

Rudy was silent as you came upon a park swallowed by the darkness of the night with the moon barely showing through the clouds. The odd purple smoke the only offering of light so far from the path with street lights.

“Of course we have to go through a park.” Rudy grumbled, “Nothing good ever happens in wooded areas at night.”

Lifting your eyes from the smoke, you looked at a deeply unsettled Rudy lost in the past only he knew. His mind recalling traipsing through the forest with his asthmatic best friend in the middle of the night. The last night before the unknown took over his life. Oddly enough dying and returning as a ghost was the most normal with everything that happened with his friends alive.

“You can go ba-“

“We’re not splitting up,” Rudy growled plainly scowling at your hesitant features. Rudy’s slammed the door closed on his past life.

Sensing unease Rudy’s calloused hand reached over to slide into yours in platonic support. You continued your mission, unaware that three certain ghosts in breathtaking suits were searching for you. 

Alex, Reggie, and Luke, affected by the purple jolts, failed to find the one place where their plan B could work. What Julie hadn’t known was that the guys had a plan just in case the Orpheum wasn’t their unfinished business. The three would go to Elysium to accept their fate and ensure Julie believed they crossed over.

With no Elysium in sight, the boys returned to the Molina garage hoping that one thing would go their way: Julie would go straight to bed.

The glow purple smoke trailed through the city park into an older part of Los Angeles before it stopped. Where the smoke stopped was a vast empty space surrounded by trees.

“Well, that’s a little anticlimactic.” You grumbled crossing your arms, “Willie’s somewhere here. Do you think Caleb has an underground lair?”

Rudy cast an unamused expression at you, “From past experience. No, that’s not likely. He probably has an apartment downtown. An underground network of caves in the woods is more shapeshifter style but still not true.”

“One: You’re rambling. Two: What the hell kind of life did you have?” You questioned furrowing your eyebrows at his rather odd piece of information.

“An old one.” Rudy spoke, staring ahead, “Besides, I think we should check out whatever building is hidden from our sight.”

“Hid-“Your mouth halted when Rudy roughly gripped your shoulders to twist you to face the empty space.

“Close your eyes. Trust your senses.” Rudy spoke softly, “Or pay attention to the slab of concrete in the middle of an empty space with well-kempt grass.”

Your palm slammed your forehead with a resounding thump in the night with distance lights from surrounding buildings. Rudy squeezed your shoulders as he stepped to the side once more in turn, closing his eyes.

“Walk in my mind.” Rudy stated for the first time in your friendship, allowing you to look in his mind. Your hesitance was met with another squeeze of comfort in his calloused grip.

Your tired eyes closed as your mind timidly stepped into the rather breathtaking mind of Rudy, who felt guilt the most. While Susie’s mind was like a summer day spent at a lake with brightness and gorgeous field of flowers, Rudy’s mind was different.

It was dark in Rudy’s mind but not as if evil, but as if he had been touched by the darkness and painted permanently. There’s was the odd whisper of childlike laughter intermingled with the full adult laugh of a woman; the laughter overshadowed with the sound of funeral music. You felt the lose near that memory. Rudy’s mind was painful to be in and drowning in the feelings he had.

Your breath caught seeing a door you assumed was of his childhood room with a name you couldn’t pronounce for the life of you.

“My parents named me after my mom’s dad.” Rudy spoke through his mind with a soft smile on his face, “I couldn’t say it, so I called myself Mischief. I stopped using it when my mom died, and I went by a shortened version of my last name.”

Your eyes watched as the door disappeared, and the reason you were in his mind came back to the forefront. Your eyes watched the image forming of a vintage hotel rippling in the air before it solidified. The size reminded you of a castle, and it felt like you were storming it.

Without any more mental interaction, you stepped out of Rudy’s mind back into the real world. The very same hotel in plain sight to both Rudy and your surprised elation.

 “Honestly didn’t think that would work.” Rudy breathlessly laughed, staring at the hotel once hidden to them. A dark comparison to Elysium.

“How do we play this, Rudy?” You inquired looking over at him, “This is very different from stealing cars and scaring teens.”

“Easy. We blend in.” Rudy responded, holding one hand out to grasp yours in which you noticed your attire had changed, “Perks of illusion? I can alter our own perception of ourselves.”

“Oh, wow. That looks expensive.” You replied, staring at the diamond bracelet on your wrist matching the necklace you wore.

Rudy’s attire had changed from his normal button-up with the sleeves rolled to be layered under a charcoal grey vest and jacket. Sleek matching pants to his coat and the dark black-tie matching the elegant black dress you wore. He had taken pity on your footwear to fit your ability to walk and for the fancy place.

He even had diamond cufflinks that matched you, but the wedding rings on your fingers took you aback. Your widened eyes staring at him.

“Tonight we’re Mr and Mrs Martin,” Rudy spoke choking on the last name he gave as it was the upscale name toppled from his lips.

“Okay. This is a test of our abilities.”

“This is if our plan A of being invisible doesn’t work. The one thing we know for sure is that Caleb has never seen either one of us.” Rudy soothed your nerves with a half-smile,” Let’s get Willie out.”

Your arm slipped into the crook of his to walk to the front door, “I feel like a spy. I feel like that Naomi Roma-“

“It’s Natasha Romanoff. Have you ever seen one of the marvel movies?” Rudy demanded walking up the entrance with a pained smile, “You’re like my best friend and when he wouldn’t watch Star Wars! Never caught one of my references!”

“Okay! Sorry, we can watch the movies when this over.” You grumbled as your heels clicked in the foyer of the hotel. The inside made you feel like you were sent back in time to the roaring ’20s.

“Oh damn, this is nice,” Rudy whispered, staring at the chandelier in the extravagant lobby of the last place you wanted to be.

While on the outside the two ghosts appeared cool, calm and collected they were anything but. Both a wreck inside from the perilous errand they had done that could very well be the ending of Elysium. Rudy nudged you to begin finding Willie with your mind, but you didn’t need to.

That same glowing mist was on the ground pulling you in the direction of a dark hall away from the route to the Club. Rudy kept his eye out, a characteristic carried into the afterlife from his time with the FBI, as you followed the mist. The hall continued to get more and more dark as the walk continued.

 Finally at the end was a blood-red door.

 “I swear to god if he kills his Club members, I’ll lose it.” You hissed to your arm candy, “What if he’s really H. H. Holmes disguised as a former magician? His door is blood red!”

“Have you been using your serial killer colouring book again?” Rudy demanded stuttering his steps to place his whiskey brown eyes on you. The sheepish expression on your face was enough of a response to gain the look of disbelief could have sent you into hysterics had the time not been too serious.

With a grin belying the situation, you twisted your wrist to open the door to hopefully where Willie was being held.

“What a cliché. He’s keeping Willie in the basement?”

“Will you shut up!” Rudy hissed right back with a clenched jaw entering the somewhat unfinished basement. It was cold even to your dead standards where the cold didn’t bother that much.

At the bottom in front of a desk with only a small lamp as illumination sat a vacant-eyed Willie painstakingly detailing a fabric. The lush purple velvet fabric was bougie, to say the least, and rather outlandish for the skater.

“Willie.” You softly coaxed the teen to glance up from the fabric you found to be something Caleb would wear. Willie’s brown eyes barely met yours before they returned to the sewing needle in his hand and the tiny beads in the bowl.

“Caleb is actually forcing him to be his personal seamstress?” Rudy scoffed,d stepping right up by your side to look at the work.

Both trying unsuccessfully to coaxed Willie out of the stupor he was engaged in the sudden poofing wasn’t heard.

“Mrs. Young taught both Willie and Kayla how to sew. She’s quite the seamstress, reminds me of my old one.” Caleb wistfully responded with a smarmy smile on his face, “Well if it isn’t little Y/N and whoever she brought. Nice threads.”

“Let him go.”

Caleb’s index finger caressed the corner of his mouth so gently to ensure the stage makeup didn’t budge. His clear ocean blue eyes turning thunderstorm navy as his lips parted in such a bone-chilling sinister grin.

“Let him go? He tried to take my new house band from me. He thinks that those boys not crossing over is his punishment. I think that adorable but so very wrong.” Caleb shrugged, dragging his finger down the bicep of his puppet.

“What can we do to- “

“You see after he’s done fixing the tuxedo jacket I’m going to tie him up on the table and slowly strip away his soul piece by piece. No, Willie won’t get the quick and easy zap erasing him. I’ll personally see it’s the most painful thing he experiences and I’ll do so happily.”

“Willie! Wake up!” Rudy shouted, shaking the skater’s shoulder frantically with his focus never entirely leaving the mad man. The whiskey brown eyes panicking at the odd displaced feeling of reliving his living life.

“That won’t work.” Caleb chuckled crossing his arms, “It’s rather amusing you think you can beat me. I’m Caleb Covington! I’m persuasive enough for hundred of memberships to financially benefit the Club.”

“And I’m Y/N Y/L/N bitch.” You snarled viciously throwing your mind into the nefarious narcissistic mind of the washed-up magician. 

Caleb Convington had started to bore his audience with the same tricks at every previous show. The lack of interest depleting the attendance numbers and severely hurting the financials. So Caleb decided to broaden his talent by copying the likes of Harry Houdini.

He had a knack for both the dramatics and swindling his audience to be tricked by the illusions he created. The heightened popularity increased Caleb’s thirst for status and fame, so he overestimated himself.

Surrounded by adoring fans and journalists, Caleb had his assistant lock him in a safe with no key, to the audience’s knowledge, and push the safe into the river. Unfortunately from the infamous magician and escape artist the safe warped due to the material it as made out of. Caleb Covington died drowning in a safe at the bottom of the river.

You flinched feeling the emotion at the time Caleb had died and the feeling of disappointment at not leaving a legacy. Your continued your trek in the struggling mind of a man who viewed himself as invincible. You caught glimpses of a young Caleb with his family and the moments of tragedy that shaped him.

You saw his first taste of power in death and the content since the first time he erased a ghost from existence. It sickened you more as you reached the point where Willie came into Caleb’s path.

I’m unique, Caleb. Unlike you with the illusions and empty promises, I have real power that you could only dream of. Hearing your thoughts and planting my own words is just the tip of the iceberg.

Caleb screamed in response holding his aching head as you cruelly ripped every memory of Willie from his mind. The screams echoed not only in the basement but through the hotel the Club worked out of.

“Stop!” Caleb pleaded, shaking his head back and forth. The anguish was un-fazing to both the lucid people in the room. Rudy too busy trying to wake your best friend from the trance he had been placed in.

“I can alter memories. Remove them and even plant memories of my own design. You may take from people, but I give to people. I refused to give you anything.” You circled the man seeing double from outside and inside his mind.

I’m everything you wish you could be.

Your last action in his mind was searing a burn that flashed across his entire body from a nerve stroked. With the heat equivalent to magma in his veins, you burrowed to where Caleb controlled the souls. With a smear of your fingers, Willie’s soul was released from Caleb clutches.

“C’mon. Get Willie.” You told Rudy sending Caleb into an empty trance as if he was no more than a wax figure. Rudy eased the skater up from the desk while you exchanged Caleb to sit on the chair holding the needle, “We need to leave. I’ll get rid of any speck of Willie in memories.”

“I didn’t even get to punch the guy.” Rudy pouted, dragging his feet up the stairs away from the magician.

“That’s a good thing. I’m sure Caleb would be more pissed about his nose being damaged than losing Willie.” You scoffed helping the man urge Willie to walk up the stairs and then down the hallway to the entrance.

As you walked you brushed the minds of every individual in the building, all members in attendance, you gently removed all traces of Willie. By the time you reached the edge of the park, you had relaxed.

“We should get him to Alex, they didn’t crossover. I can still feel their imprint.”

“He’d be safer at Elysium to lay low.” Rudy replied, keeping on eye on the skater and on anyone he could see.

With only a nod, you ushered the ghost to teleport both the skater and himself back to the safe walls of Elysium. As he did so, you reached out with your mind to the blonde-haired sweet male in adoration with your best friend.

Clicking his place was easy enough for your draining power after the taxing bond with Willie’s absent presence. Instead of walking as you would generally choose you poofed on the cement pad in the backyard of a home. The surrounding skirt of the backyard encased with plants and flowers.

“Hello?” You called out in the darkness. The soft, mumbled words had your feet moving in the direction.

Standing in a circle mesmerized at the purple tattoos lifting off their skin was the boys of Julie and the Phantoms. The teenage beautiful Puerto Rican girl stood across from Luke with Reggie and Alex on each side.

“Alex?” You called out to the boy wearing a baby pink vintage tuxedo that complimented his skin and hair exquisitely. The outfit definitely screamed that Caleb had something to do with it, especially with the missing fanny pack.

“Y/N?” Luke gasped turning to see you in incredibly fancy attire matching his gorgeous blue suit modified to having no sleeves. The anticipation of eating at you to find Reggie rocking a red suit with butterflies on the fabric.

“I’m sorry you didn’t crossover.” Your words soothed the sad teenagers that had accepted their fate only to have no control again. An introduction was brought between you and Julie when the living girl elbowed Alex.

“Not that we mind but what are you doing here? How did you get here, and why are you dressed up?” Luke inquired, pushing his hands into his suit pockets, engrossed with your gorgeous appearance.

“Well when you crash a fancy Club with a narcissistic founder…any means to blend in is necessary.” You responded, “As for your second question.”

Your finger tapped your temple before continuing to speak, “I’m here because Alex deserves to know. You all do.”

The boy in baby pink frantically stepped forward, “What happened?”

“Maybe it’s best, I just show you?” Your brows furrowed to your own question accompanied by your lower lip being bitten by your teeth. The red lipstick not budging as it was an illusion as well.

“Hu-“Reggie grunted as he spiralled with his two dead bandmates into the scene that had sent you on your determined mission.

The rough action of being drawn into your memories as jarring as the first time and just as scary. The maniacal magician pacing the dark basement simply to heighten his dramatic speech. Alex’s heart clenched at the vacant look in the skater’s eyes with the faintest tinge of purple in the gorgeous brown.

“I feel like I got carsick.” Reggie moaned leaning over to clutch his midsection once you released the ghostly trio. Reggie would often gain a look of disbelief and horror from the blonde drummer, but his entire brain was centred on Willie.

“Rudy took Willie back to Elysium where he’ll be safe. If you want, you can join us.” The words were offered to both the dead and living currently in the room.

Opting out, Julie retired to her bedroom to calm down from the rush of performing at the Orpheum of all places. Besides she felt like going to Elysium was best for the three boys, and maybe they would move there. Julie would miss them, but she knew they’d always come back.

Susie was quick to hug you tightly as you stepped through the gates with the dead members of Julie’s band. The boys changed out of the tuxedos they had dropped off at a donation centre, Reggie had wanted to burn them. After living on the streets for a short while, Luke understood the need for clothing, so the clothing was taken to shelters.

“I’m so glad you’re okay. Rudy told me you overexerted yourself again.” Susie spoke with a deeply furrowed brow oblivious to the puppy dog look from the bassist in red flannel.

“If I didn’t, Willie would be gone.”

“You’re pale yet flushed cheeks. I can see you have a fever. You need to rest.”

“I need to soothe Willie out of the trance that psychotic prick put him in.” You scoffed shaking Susie’s hand off your shoulder to sidestep her, “I’ll rest when he’s fine.”

“I-“

“At least gab something from the cafeteria for energy.” Susie’s brown eyes dimmed at your typical brush off. The same routine of overusing your powers and not recharging correctly, “He’s in Cottage A!”

The boys were on your heels as you power-walked through the streets of the ghost city with one location in mind. The living streets with homes of all style and colours appeared passed the bakery, the school and the clothing stores.

“You can eat?” Reggie whispered as a little ghost girl licked an ice cream cone walked by.

“Harvey adored cooking for people when he living, so he continued in death. Harvey can make food for ghosts, and so can his staff if they work in his kitchen. His pastry chef provides baked goods to Flora’s Bakery and makes the best ice cream.”

 “Oh my god.” Reggie practically squealed wholly flabbergasted by the almost perfect place you created, “How do you pay for things?”

“We don’t. What Harvey doesn’t grow in his garden, he can make ingredients out of thin air. We all have some kind of job we do. Everyone has a role in fulfilling to keep Elysium running.” You simply spoke keeping your eyes on the cottage with the robin’s egg blue door.

As if he knew Rudy flung the door open elated to see you standing there. Both of you still wearing the illusioned attire. IN milliseconds he wiped the illusion away, returning you back into your street clothes.

“How is he?”

“No change.” Rudy replied, following your steps in the living room. The skater was staring blankly at the wall.

“Willie!” Alex cried, rushing over to kneel beside the boy that had so swiftly stolen his heart without him realizing. The emotion in his word didn’t get a microscopic flinch from the formerly so-called enemy.

“Everyone be quiet.” You demanded forcibly staring each person in the room down for a mere second. With the desired silence continued, you ignored the headache forming in your head to step into the skater’s mind.

William Young was screaming to be released by the prison of his own mind Caleb had forced him into. He had felt the restriction on his soul lifted and the mist of purple leaving his brain, but he was still stuck.

He could barely breathe with the weight on his chest. Willie didn’t like feeling stuck in one place as he was a wanderer at heart. It was a reason why he had joined the Hollywood Ghost Club with the promise of travel.

Willie come back

In his mind, the sound of your voice firstly grounded the young man as a mirage of your form flickered. Your eyes screamed worry while the smile was one of relief.

Caleb can’t hurt you anymore. Come home.

The spectators watching see your flinching wavering expression and the tensing of Willie’s facial muscles. Everyone sat on the edge of their seat as the two pairs eyes opened in synch of the yells of hurt.

What they didn’t expect was your eyes to roll into the back of your skull and you to collapse onto the floor.

“Y/N!” Willie cried, stumbling off the couch onto the cold floor where your body lay prone, “Wake up!”

It seemed everyone forgot the little detail of being dead.

 “She’s fine.” Rudy remarked, shaking your arm with such gentle care matching the four guys’ care in the room.

Your eyelids fluttered open under the bright lights of the unused cottage still waiting for an owner.

“Susie was right.” You grumbled allowing Willie to help you sit up against the blue velvet couch. Your mussed hair adorable in the eyes of the guitarist utterly enamoured with everything about you.

“She usually is.” Rudy mused, thinking of the many times she had proven everyone wrong, “She punched me for not bringing you home.”

“Gotta love her.” You snorted turning to face the four ghosts awkwardly gazing around the room. It was barren of personality with the lack of inhabitants. The yearning quickly found in the boys’ eyes, “You know this isn’t the only cottage in need of people.”

“What do-“

“You’re welcome to live here. I know you three live in that studio, but here you can have a real bed. You can eat and having your own place. You can come and go as you please.” You offered without looking, Rudy.

“I don’-“

“If you don’t want to live here, it’s okay, but the option is always there. Willie, we make plans for a skatepark-“

“Oh, you had me from the start.” Willie beamed tugging you into his arms, “I missed this. I missed you.”

 “Me too.” You murmured into his warm embrace equally relaxed at knowing he was safe again. Your eyes clashing with the soft blue had Ideas songwriting already filled with lyrics of a pretty girl wearing a jean jacket with patches.

The lyrics turned into songs both in the studio and the cottage that Luke, Reggie and Alex accepted in Elysium. It had been a spirited discussion with Julie on moving to Elysium, but the boys were always there when she wasn’t in school. Often Elysium hosted a concert for the residents with the visitation of Julie.

Your reciprocated attraction with the messy-haired hazel-eyed guitarist flourished into a serious relationship. Luke took on the role of teaching how to play the guitar and songwriting. Alex took of mediation while Reggie worked with Harvey.

Willie quickly took on designing the skatepark he taught at while also taking a position at the ghost school.

“Morning.” The soft whisper roused your sleep into the golden glow of the morning light and chirping birds.

The growling aspect of his voice coming from only just waking up. The sight of Luke’s bleary eyes was heartwarming.

 A year into moving into Elysium, Luke had asked if you’d like to move in as he was the only one in the original house. Alex had moved into the little cottage with Willie three months into the relationship while Reggie was going back and forth between Susie’s room and his own place.

“Morning.” You hummed leaning forward to kiss his cheek.

“You know I thought my life ended when I died. That I could never find someone and have a family. That I couldn’t share my music with the world. I was wrong.” Luke murmured as he cupped your cheek in his hand, “The band is growing more and more each day. I found the love of my life, and we have a family with everyone. I haven’t felt like I had had home for so long, but I get it now. You’re my home. I love you.”

Your cheeks warmed up at the adoration Luke displayed in his expressive hazel green gaze just as it had since day one. The awe fell from his lips before you pressed a kiss to his lips, only one of the many in the eons to come.

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[sunsetcurbed]

Hi Kay!! (It’s Kate @julie-and-the-himbo-ghosts) For the follower milestone prompts, could you maybe do a post s1 willex reunion + maybe getting together? Thank you and congrats on the follower milestone!!

hi!! thank you so much!!

so, i went ahead and combined this with something that @chickwiththepurpleguitar @williexmercer @willexxmercer @hey-there-juliet and i were talking about on the jatpfs server.

me: *mentions my alex compartmentalization headcanon* them: but what if-

and i went: hm, i can mix that with this prompt.

so i did.

i hope you don't mind!!

(*)

Prompt #2

(*)

Alex feels Julie’s hand on his back and watches the golden light fade from around them and—holy shit.

“Did that just—“

Luke laughs and looks over at Alex, clapping him on the shoulder. “Yeah, it did.”

“We just almost died. Again.”

“Oh,” he says. “Yeah, but—Julie—“

“And Caleb almost—we almost—guys we—“

“Alex,” Julie frowns, turning her body to face him more fully. She reaches up and puts a hand on his face and he sucks in a breath between his teeth, and—what’s did Willie tell him to do? There was—something with counting? “Alex, are you all right?”

“No,” he says, voice too loud and too shaky. “No, I—no. We—we almost ceased to exist. Caleb almost stole our souls. We almost lost you, twice. No! No, three times. What if we had crossed over?”

“But we didn’t,” Reggie says, popping over Julie’s shoulder. “We’re still here—and Julie can touch us now!”

“Yeah!” Alex says, voice pitching up. “Yeah, that too! Why can Julie touch us now?”

Julie takes her hand off his face but leaves it hovering close by. “Is me touching you making this worse?”

“No,” he shakes his head. “No it’s not—it’s not that I—“

“Dude, we’re safe now,” Luke says, stepping up beside him.

Alex whirls on him. “We almost weren’t!”

“But that’s over now,” Reggie presses and—and—what aren’t they getting? Alex wonders as he squeezes his eyes shut, curling his hands into fists.

“Guys,” Julie says, voice firm, “Alex is allowed to be stressed and upset about what he went through. It’s understandable. He went through a traumatic event.” She presses her fingers back to his cheek and guides his face until he’s looking back at her. “What can I do to help?”

“I don’t—I don’t know,” he admits, and it’s true. He’s always just… let these happen. That’s what happens when you have anxiety in the 90s and your parents would rather not see it. And it’s not that the boys didn’t care, they just didn’t have the knowledge or resources to know how to help. Willie was the first one to ever stop one, and Willie wasn’t here now.

Oh, god.

Willie wasn’t here now.

“Guys,” he breathes, looking to Luke and Reggie. “Guys, what about Willie?”

“Oh,” Reggie breathes.

That’s not a good oh.

“Let’s—Alex, go sit down,” Julie commands, and Alex can’t do anything but obey, even though he’s currently freaking out. Julie follows him over to the couch and sits next to him, pressing her knee to his and it—it’s grounding, but not enough. He needs—he needs the breath thing.

He closes his eyes and feels a hand press against the side of his face, warm and soft and he lets Julie hold him as he falls apart, as the last few hours come crashing over him.

He can’t—

Now that it’s all over and done with his mind is thinking about it, his mind is processing it, and he’s realizing just how much they’ve been through. He couldn’t let himself panic in the moment—there wasn’t time—he had to prioritize, had to compartmentalize. But now? Now he’s safe. He’s safe now and that’s… it’s terrifying him to think back on the fact that he almost wasn’t.

Caleb almost stole their souls. They almost crossed over. They almost jolted out of existence.

He—how does he deal with that? How does he process that? How can he process that? He almost lost everything. Multiple times.

He feels his breathing pick up as he thinks about it all. Thinks about all the horrible possibilities that didn’t come to pass. And—he lets out a sigh of relief, but he’s still panicking, so it comes out as a hiccup, and—

“Alex, hey, breathe,” Willie’s voice instructs and Alex clenches his eyes shut tighter because maybe if he does that voice will stick with him, will stay with him. Maybe he can turn Julie’s hands on his face into Willie’s—

Something firm and comfortable in temperature slips into Alex’s hand. It’s not drastic against his skin like Julie’s warm touch, but it’s not cold like the feel of his drumsticks either. Reflexively, his eyes snap open and fly to his hand and he sees a hand settled in it. It looks familiar—skin colored a few shades darker than Alex’s own littered with the white remnants of scrapes and cuts accumulated over years. He follows the hand up the arm attached to it, all the way to the shoulder, the neck, and he settles on Willie’s face.

He breathes out shakily and—“Willie?”

“Hey, hot dog.”

“Oh, god,” Alex says, and his head falls forward, too heavy to hold up any longer. Willie’s free hand comes up and curls around the side of his face just like Julie’s had been moments before—he’s not sure when hers had disappeared—and Alex leans into the touch.

“Luke? Reggie?” Julie calls. “Come help me talk to Carlos.”

Reggie furrows his eyebrows together. “Wha—? But he can’t—“

Julie tenses her jaw and stares at him. “It will be cool for him, Reg.” It sounds like she’s speaking through her teeth. She turns on her heel and marches towards the door. “Come on.”

“Oh,” Reggie says. “Okay, I—Luke? After you.”

“Uh, yeah,” Luke says, and then jogs after Julie. When he reaches her he stops next to her and slips his hand into hers. Julie stutters in her step and looks up at him, and even though it’s an awkward angle, Alex can see her smiling up at his friend.

Shortly after, the three of them are gone and it’s just Willie and Alex left in the silence of the studio.

Well, not silence, because Alex’s breathing is still coming ridiculously fast and ridiculously loud.

“Hey, Alex,” Willie murmurs, pushing himself off of his knees and sliding onto the couch next to Alex, “I’m gonna count. Can you breathe with my count?” Oh, god, yes—this. This thing. The thing he was trying to remember earlier. He nods, grateful that Willie has brought it up, and sits, waiting for Willie to begin. “Cool. All right. In, two, three four. Hold, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Out, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. In, two, three…”

They repeat this god knows how many times, but it’s enough that Alex can feel his breathing match Willie’s, can feel whatever pseudo-blood it is that he’s got in his body stop rushing through his head, can feel his hands stop shaking. By that point he’s well and truly accepted that this is Willie, Willie is here, Willie is real, so when Willie squeezes his hand and asks “all right, you good?” Alex lunges forward and tackles Willie back against the couch. Willie lets out a huff of air and laughs, but he wiggles his hand free from Alex’s and wraps his arms around Alex’s shoulders. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m relieved to see you too.”

“I didn’t—I thought Caleb—“

“Yeah, me too,” Willie murmurs, tightening his arms around Alex. “How are you still here?”

“I don’t—I don’t know,” Alex admits honestly. “Julie did something. How—how are you—“

“Caleb… He knows I’m on your side. But he still owns my soul. I think he thinks if he lets me see you he’ll get more information than if he doesn’t—but I—I won’t! I only came tonight because I had to… he said you didn’t cross over. I had to make sure it wasn’t a trick. I won’t hang around you guys anymore. I won’t put you in danger again. I won’t—“

“You didn’t put us in danger, Willie,” Alex murmurs, looking down at the boy below him. “You saved us.”

“Pretty sure that was Julie,” he laughs, but there’s no humor.

“It was both of you. We needed both of you. And you were both there for us.” He reaches up and tucks a lock of hair behind Willie’s ear. “Don’t you know that’s all I care about? I don’t care that you made a mistake. I’ve fucked up too. Fuck, I hurt Julie that same night we went to the club. Like, really hurt her. But our mistakes don’t, like, say who we are. How we react to them does. And your reaction makes you a good person.”

Willie blinks up at him. His hands trail down Alex’s back, and then one comes back up to grip at he back of his neck and Alex is being tugged down and Willie is surging up and—

Fuck, this is good.

His lips push against Willie’s and their noses bump together and they’re breathing in sync, and—

It’s so good, it’s good, it’s great, it’s so good.

He likes him so much, he can’t believe he almost lost him, he can’t believe they almost lost each other—

“Oh my god,” Alex says, yanking away.

“What?” Willie asks, breathless.

“We almost—I almost never got to kiss you,” Alex says, panic rising back in his chest. He’s saying so much more—I almost lost you, you could have been hurt, I’m scared I’ll never get to tell you how I feel—and by the glint in Willie’s eye, Willie can hear all of that.

“I know,” he murmurs, running a hand through Alex’s hair. “And that’s terrifying. So—let’s not waste our time now, hm?”

Alex blinks. His eyes flick down to Willie’s lips, swollen and red and then back to his eyes. He nods and—yeah. Yeah. It was terrifying. But what would be more terrifying would be spending more time away from Willie. So he leans in and presses their lips back together and hopes he’s telling him exactly how he feels, even if he can’t quite say it yet.

[opaldraws]

Dandelion

Billy never thought that he would become a dad. Besides believing that it wouldn’t be possible for a person like him, he also was scared shitless. He’d seen first hand what happens when the wrong kind of person became a parent, he knew how screwed up things could get. He had this huge fear that he would ruin a kid’s life. And even though Steve had assured him countless times that Billy would be a fantastic dad if they were to have a kid, he also accepted that Billy wasn’t ready for fatherhood and he may never be. So Steve never pushed the idea.

Then Max had a baby.

Out of the pair, no one expected Billy would be the one hit with baby fever.

Max was only able to get three weeks of leave from her work, so Billy volunteered to help out with little Julien. Julien was precious: He slept for long hours and rarely cried, he loved playing peek-a-boo and was easily entertained by crinkly paper, and when he got especially fussy, all Billy had to do was put him in his swing and Julien would knock right out.

Billy would come home from Max and Lucas’ and gush to Steve about whatever him and Julien got up to that day. It was usually the same sort of stuff, babies don’t really do that much, but Steve would listen fondly to Billy’s report while they cooked dinner together. Eventually Max found a sitter and changed her work hours, so Billy didn’t spend as much time with the runt.

A few years passed and Billy mentioned having kids of their own. Steve and him were in bed, the light on the nightstand casting enough light for Billy to read but not too much that Steve couldn’t doze off.

“Steve.” Billy ruffled Steve’s hair gently, letting his hand wander down to rub his back. Steve blinked over at him sleepily, his eyes a little unfocused without his glasses.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, frowning.

“No, nothing’s wrong. I just… I’ve been thinking lately, maybe we could look into adoption?” Billy wrung his hands together nervously. When Steve didn’t answer immediately, Billy interjected, “Only if you want to, of course! Fuck, nevermind. It’s stupid, I shouldn’t have even brought it up.”

Billy picked his book up, not able to look back at his partner. Steve hadn’t seen him this nervous since Billy had asked him to marry him. This conversation caught Steve off guard- and not only because he was half asleep. They’d talked about kids before when they were freshly married (technically unofficially, but whatever), Billy said he didn’t think he’d ever want to go down that path. And now, Billy was bringing it up.

“Babe, it’s not stupid.” Steve said seriously. “I want to do that with you.”

...

Adoption for two gay men in 2000 wasn’t easy. They were basically at the bottom of the ‘list’ of candidates and they’d been through multiple near adoptions that eventually fell through in just the past two years. Steve was beginning to lose hope, but Billy stayed determined. He called the adoption agency every week and he stopped by in person once a month. Steve told him he was probably bothering the agency, he said that they had their application and when the right kid came along, everything would work out. Billy’s perspective wasn’t quite as rose-colored as Steve’s: He realized that the agency didn’t want a same-sex couple adopting a baby. They may not outright say it, but he could tell. Billy wanted to show them that they were just as serious as any other couple.

In November of 2001, they got the call from the agency. The weekend before they brought their daughter home, Billy and Steve prepared the second bedroom for their new addition. Steve excitedly put up a fresh coat of paint while Billy struggled through assembling furniture for the bedroom. When they finished, they stood side by side in the doorway, misty eyed and excited for their daughter’s homecoming.

“We’re going to be parents.” Steve sighed, he let his head fall to Billy’s shoulder.

“Fuck, I’m so scared.” Billy admitted. He took a deep breath and tried to ease the panic creeping in. Steve gently wrapped his arms around him, pulling Billy in to hold him. Billy sagged into the hug.

“I am too, but I know it’s gonna be okay.” Steve said.

“How could you know that though?” Billy asked fearfully. So many things could go wrong, what if this was a mistake? Steve tightened his arms around Billy and leaned them against the doorframe.

“Because I know you. I’ve seen you grow into the man you are today and I know you’re going to be an amazing dad.”

...

Billy knew that for every developmental milestone that Abby passed, he should be excited. Don’t get him wrong, he was beyond happy to see his daughter growing and becoming a little person… but he also got sad? Abby was growing up so fast, one day she was crawling around on the carpet and the next she was racing around the apartment wreaking havoc. It felt like only a few days ago she drooled and needed to be spoon fed, now she was talking in barely formed sentences. Sometimes Billy would just curl up next to Steve in bed at night and have to cry about how big Abby was getting. Steve would rub his back, comforting his partner as best as he could. These breakdowns started happening more frequently as Abby’s 2nd birthday got nearer and nearer. Billy was aware that he was being dramatic, but his little girl was growing up way too fast. He felt like he was going to blink and then she’d be gone, old enough not to need her dads anymore.

“Billy, stop worrying about the future, Abby’s barely two! You have got to just live for today.” Max scolded him during one of Abby’s and Julien’s playdates after he had opened up to her. It was a sunny June day and Julien was happily keeping Abby occupied on a blanket in Lucas and Max’s yard. Lucas had been called out of town for a work emergency and Steve had gotten stuck covering a late shift. The step-siblings watched the kids from the porch, periodically bringing out new toys and snacks.

“Yeah, that’s what Steve keeps telling me. That’s what everyone keeps telling me, shitbird.” Billy huffed, rolling his eyes. “I can’t help it!”

“Listen to me, I felt the same way. Every time I had to go into work, every time I left Julien with you or Lucas, or the babysitter, I was so afraid that I was missing out on his childhood. Even when I was with him, all I could think about was how I could never get this moment back. But it’s useless to think that way! I realized that I couldn’t stop time from passing so I needed to enjoy it while it lasted!” Max insisted. She grabbed his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Billy squeezed back. Even though Max was younger than him, he appreciated the wisdom she occasionally provided. He was happy that their days of fighting and heated arguing were left behind at the house on Cherry Lane.

Billy looked out at the yard, he watched the way Abby would giggle when Julien ran circles around her with his toy airplane. She made grabby hands at him and squealed, “My turn!” Julien passed the toy plane to her and she zoomed it around. Max gave his shoulder a hard pat and announced that she was going to get food ready. Billy walked over to the rainbow blanket and sat down beside the duo.

“Daddy attack!” Abby jumped up, discarding the airplane to wrap her arms around his shoulders and climb onto his back. He held onto her chubby little legs and she laughed into his ear. He tried not to dwell on the future, let himself enjoy the moment. “Down.” Abby instructed him and he helped her back to the ground. She plucked a nearby dandelion from the ground and held it to Billy triumphantly. “Present for you.”

“Thank you baby, I love it.” He smiled at her, taking the dandelion. She beamed at him, clearly happy that her gift was well received. He tucked the yellow flower into the breast pocket of his shirt. Julien came bounding up to them excitedly, hiding something behind his back.

“I have a present for you too, Uncle Billy!” Julien grinned and offered him a wiggling pink worm clasped between his fingers. Billy chuckled and took the worm and Julien bounded off - probably to find more worms.

Abby went back to playing with the airplane and some of Julien’s matchbox cars. She pretended that Billy’s arm was the road and rolled the cars over it, back and forth. Every so often, she would show Billy a new car, telling him which color it was or if she liked it or not. Steve had been working on colors with her a lot recently, and Abby had gotten into the habit of pointing out the colors of things frequently. It was really adorable and she always looked proud when she got the color right. And when Billy would catch those intrusive thoughts about the future, he gave it his all not to dwell on them and instead focus on Abby rolling her car over his arm. Max rejoined them with a big plate of fruit and sandwiches to share for an early dinner, calling Julien over to eat.

Before Billy knew it, a few hours had passed and the sun was beginning to set. He helped Max bring all the toys back in the house and the kids savored the last few minutes of light while they cleaned up. Billy caught a glimpse of the clock on his trip inside; It was nearing 7pm and Steve would be arriving soon to pick them up. Billy and Max tried to coax the kids inside with the promise of a movie, but Julien had other ideas.

“Five more minutes? Please? Momma, I wanna see the fireflies!” Julien tugged at Max’s pant legs, giving her his best puppy dog eyes. “I promise I’ll be good for bedtime!” For a five year old, Julien was quite the negotiator. Of course Max caved which meant that Abby also got to chase the growing number of fireflies blinking around the yard. Billy couldn’t help but grin watching the cousins running around- and periodically jumping up- to try and catch the glowing bugs. After struggling to jump high enough to reach any of the fireflies, Abby pouted at Billy.

“Hold me?” She asked and how could Billy say no? He lifted her up in the air and she swung her little hands around, attempting to catch at least one bug. Billy could tell that she was getting frustrated when each time she came back fruitless. Abby got distracted by Julien showing Max all of the bugs he had captured, a faint green-ish yellow glow coming from his closed fists. “Daddy! Want one.” Abby’s chin wobbled - one of her tell tale signs that a meltdown was coming.

“Okay honey, I’ll get you one.” He smiled and moved her so that she was propped on his hip. They walked slowly around the yard together and Billy caught one for her. He helped her get it in her hand and her eyes widened. “Now you’ve got to be real careful, you don’t want to squish it right?” Abby shook her head no, wanting to keep her new friend forever. Billy watched the way she would peek into her fist to catch a glimpse of the small bug, finding it sweet how gentle she treated it. She kissed the top of her hand and said “I love you” to the tiny insect hidden within. Billy was so transfixed with her that he didn’t notice Steve’s arrival; It startled him when a hand met the small of his back. Abby lit up even more once she saw Steve.

“Papa look! Bug!” She opened up her hand to show Steve the bug, but the firefly took the opportunity to make its escape and flew off into the night sky before Abby could close her hand. She gasped and tried to reach for it in a futile attempt. Here comes the meltdown... or so Billy thought.

“Oh Abby, it was such a beautiful firefly! Looked like it was a really good flyer too huh?” Steve smiled and Abby only pouted a little. “Now it’s going to go home and tell all of its friends about you. And we gotta go home too sweetheart, it’s getting pretty late. Let’s say bye to Julien and Aunt Max, okay?” Steve was great at de-escalating a situation, he always knew exactly the right thing to say to stop Abby’s tears. Billy put Abby back down on her feet so that she could go over to Max and Julian to say goodbye. Steve turned to Billy and gave him a quick peck on the lips before taking his hand and walking them over to the trio waiting for them.

“Seems like you were able to get out of your head today, I’m glad.” Max said to Billy during their hug.

Once their farewells were said and done and they were all loaded up into Steve’s car, the small family made the short drive back home. Steve’s hand rested over Billy’s atop his thigh, periodically giving it a light, reassuring squeeze.

Back home, Steve carried a sleepy Abby in from the car and straight to her bed (he hated for her to miss brushing her teeth, but made an exception because of the long day she had had). While Steve helped Abby get settled in, Billy headed into their bedroom. He picked one of the heavier hardcover books off the bookshelf and pulled the dandelion out of his pocket. He tucked the wilting flower between the pages, saving it so that he could remember the day. Steve came into the bedroom as he was reshelving the book, he walked straight to Billy and wrapped his arms around him.

“Had a good day?” Steve asked. Billy twisted in his grip, turning to face Steve. They shared a few slow kisses, with no intention to escalate, only to be in each other’s space after being apart for the day. Billy pulled back, hands still holding onto Steve’s waist securely.

“Yeah, it was really good.” He smiled. Sure Abby was growing up, but they had so many years ahead of them, so many warm summer days just like this one. Although Billy didn’t expect he could completely quell his anxieties about the future, he was ready to start enjoying the moments as they happened.

[hardskz]

bow down.

pairing — bang chan x genderneutral! reader

genre — modern royalty au, drama-ish, smut; sexual tension-ish, hand kink, brat tamer! chan, degradation, leg humping, humiliation

synopsis — you have eyes. prince bang chan is a whole snack. but you also have too high of an ego and can’t seem to accept that prince chan isn’t full of himself unlike the other dozen members of any royal family you’ve met before. alternatively, this is the disney channel movie ‘princess protection program’ but make it porn only.

note — this fic with a wc of 7k+ does not include any spoilers to the movie and you don’t even have to know what the movie is about you’ll get the gist as you read. ngl half of this is from one of my drafts from like 3 years ago and i never continued it so here i am turning it into filth hahahah (and i needed a fresh idea for brat tamer chan and hence why i think the sfw part is better written than the nsfw lmao) rip also pls accept this as the follower milestone gift and 1 year anniversary special :’)

“I’m pretty sure I asked for a puppy for my birthday — which was three months ago may I add — not for a new roommate?”

You look back and forth between Youngjae and the stranger sitting on the couch who is staring back at you with a curious expression. He looks around your age and you admit, his face isn’t the kind of face that makes you thank your parents that genetics did a decent job on you. It’s quite the opposite, actually.

His face is the type of face that makes you ask your parents why genetics didn’t do a better job on yours. Okay, you haven’t reached that stage of visual inferiority yet but that’s mainly because he is dressed in clothes that were trendy in the 15th century or something. The garments clinging to his skin look like a bad fusion of a suit (which college student wears a suit in their free time?) and the ridiculous costume the marching band at your former high school had worn whenever a football game was up. And those weird golden pins clipped on the blazer makes it seem as if he used to be in the marines or comes from a royal bloodline or—

Oh. 

“Don’t mind my cousin, your Highness. (y/n)’s humor has always been questionable.”  Youngjae sends you a glare before he puts on his sweetest smile — you know, the act he puts on whenever he tries to negotiate a bonus with his boss or woo his date — and opts to ignore your presence. “Anyway, since we are dealing with a more serious issue at hand than originally expected, we need to give you a makeover to—“

Before he gets to finish his sentence, you violently tug him away from the prince and despite Youngjae thrashing around and complaining, you manage to send the guest a forced smile and leave his vision. The moment you let go of Youngjae in the neighboring room, he readjusts his collar. “What? Couldn’t you have waited once I was done? Also, was it necessary to crinkle my collar this much?” he hisses but you get straight to the point.

“What is he doing here?”

“Uh, sitting on the couch?”

“That’s not what I mean.” you grit your teeth and land a punch on his arm. “What is he doing here?”

Youngjae looks over your shoulder, making sure that what he’s about to say next is only heard by you. “Prince Chan is,” he hesitates, unsure how to approach his topic. You know it’s taking up his last nerves to conclude a logical explanation as the tip of his tongue pokes out of the corner of his lips; a habit he has adapted ever since he stopped chewing on his bottom lip. “The predicament he’s in is worse than we expected. Well, his dad is partially at fault because he forgot to tell us this not-so-small critical detail that—“

“Youngjae, you’re rambling.”

“The point is.” he sighs and gives you a distressed look as if he already knows you’re not going to like the information at all. “We can’t send him to the family in Goyang, the place he was originally going to stay in. He’s one of the more extreme cases and the Board agreed that he had to live with one of the active combatants to ensure his safety.”

Silence engulfs the kitchen and you know he’s waiting for you to count two and two together.

“He’s going to live here,” you deadpan eventually and Youngjae nods in confirmation.

“I know you’re not very happy—“

“Not very happy is underwhelming.” You earn a flick against your forehead and yelp in pain as you over the spot he just hit. “Ow! I was just stating the truth!”

“Will you stop interrupting me? Geez. Yes, I know that you’re not happy at all. I know that you’re not a huge fan of the majority of our family working in this business. But please do me this one favor or so help me God— try to be nice to him for the next year.”

“He’s staying for a year?” you shriek and in the blink of an eye, Youngjae clamps your mouth shut.

“Can you keep it down?!” he whisper-yells, then retreats his hand and reverts to a conversational tone with a frown. “It’s just a year, okay? Y’know, just... say hi to him whenever you see him. Act civilized.”

You grimace as he stresses his last words like you didn’t know what human decency was. The longer you keep the petrified expression on your face, the more it turns into a staring contest between the two of you. Just as if you were each other’s reflection, you mimic his actions and vice versa. When Youngjae squints, you squint. When you shoot him a glare, he returns it. It all boils down to the final blink that Youngjae feints and you’re the first to look away.

“Okay fine! I’ll try to behave,” you mumble in defeat.

A satisfied smile makes its way on Youngjae’s lips. “It’s always nice negotiating with you.”

Being born into a family where the majority works for the royalty protection program (short: RPP or as you like to stylize it: argh-pee-pee), also known as the secret service for people with crowns on their heads, comes with many perks. In your eyes, this privilege comes with many, many downsides that aren’t worth the advantages. Sure, there is the one or other occasion where you can waltz around in fancy evening attire and attend an actual ball, but overall, it’s a pain in the ass.

Even though it’s prohibited to openly declare that you work for the RPP, the news always finds its way out. Usually, it takes approximately a week for pretty much half of the neighborhood to find out. And it certainly isn’t nice hearing whispers about your dad being that guy working for the program whenever you step out of your house, which is ultimately why you moved in with your cousin Youngjae. (Housing in your small town wasn’t really affordable for a dirt poor college student after all!)

Youngjae has always been your favorite cousin out of the... whatever number of cousins you have. But here’s the thing. He also works for the RPP.

However, somehow he managed to — and up to this day it still remains a mystery to you how on earth he did that — keep his job a secret. Especially with his tendency to dish out the worst kinds of secrets when he’s slightly tipsy. Frankly, you once considered printing out the image of a trophy for that remarkable feat.

With your dad and cousin both active in that business (because organization sounds too shady), it’s not the first time you meet a prince, so you already know how the entire thing works. The concept is quite simple; they get sent to a household but before they settle in and take on a fake identity until their circumstances have improved, they undergo a makeover. Most of the time, it ends up in the glow up you secretly crave but in Prince Chan’s case, you suppose he can’t get any more attractive.

Oh boy. You’re in for a ride.

You’re busy slicing bell peppers for the meal you were cooking when both your cousin and the prince enter the kitchen and Youngjae explicitly demands you to pay them attention. You don’t react immediately, but the moment he threatens to swipe the knife away from you, you perk up and set your desire to prepare your fried rice aside.

“(y/n), uh, hi? I’m Bang Chan and I’ll be your new housemate for a year. I hope we can get along.” Chan recites his introduction without any mistakes and earns a way too brotherly pat on the back from Youngjae, considering that they just met this morning. It’s truly amazing how fast Youngjae can get people to warm up to him. 

Chan is stripped out of his weird clothes and instead, looks like he threw on the next best thing lying around in his room. Nonetheless, despite the seemingly little effort that was put into the outfit, it looks oddly good. The stylists didn’t seem to do much to his hair and just parted his bangs a little, so one could catch a slight glimpse of his forehead. It’s just a small detail, but you find yourself liking his current appearance much more appealing than before, though you’re pretty sure his clothes played a major part in your previous distaste. 

“Remember Jihyo?” Youngjae interrupts your train of thought. “She’s Chan’s relative. And because I’m the genuine friend who loves to help her out, I decided to agree to this after she went down on her knees and begged me to let Chan live with us for a while—“

“I’m not interested in your blown up, fictional background stories, thank you very much.” you backtrack. “Wait. Did you say Jihyo? Seriously? Jihyo is his alibi?” Of course, you remember Jihyo. It’s quite difficult to forget her when Youngjae used to swoon about her at every hour of the day, back when they were a thing. Besides, she still stops by every few months.

“C’mon, you have to admit there is a similar vibe between them!” 

You furrow your brows and inspect Chan a second time. Your gaze wanders back to Youngjae and then returns to Chan anew. It’s obvious that the latter is feeling as if he were up for auction and you can’t really blame him for feeling so uncomfortable. You’ve heard from a few friends that if looks could kill, you’d have the highest killing record. 

There’s no similar vibe in your view, but for the sake of entertaining Youngjae’s thoughts: “He does seem similar to Jihyo.”

“Told ya. But back to more important matters,” Youngjae coughs and wraps his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer, but it somehow seems as if he’s opting to strangle you. “My duties are calling, so I won’t be back until late. You look like you could need some help with cooking, by the way. I’m sure Chan right here is willing to help you!”

“I’m almost done though—“ you choke when he tightens his embrace. By now, his arm is no longer hugging your shoulder, but rather crushing your throat.

“You look like you could need some help,” he repeats, this time with added urgency. “It’d be a great opportunity for you to bond since you’ll also share pretty much all classes at uni. Did you know, he has the same major as you! Besides, it’d be a very useful life experience for him if he helped you with cooking.”

“Of course, how fun!” you hiss, voice going an octave higher from the lack of oxygen. “I already said that I’m painfully delighted about that, so you can let me go now, Youngjae!”

A sneer and a jab in his arm later, Youngjae finally takes his leave. That nasty liar, leaving an hour earlier than his schedule stated. You know that silently cursing at him isn’t going to make your problems dissolve because that’d be a dream come true.

“Listen, let me get things straight.” you sigh, picking up the knife to resume chopping your vegetables. Youngjae may have ordered you to act civilized, but having eye contact with Chan when you’ve been starving for the past hour isn’t your priority. Food doesn’t make itself. “I don’t have any intention of getting close to you and I expect the same from you. Don’t step a foot into my room, don’t talk to me unless absolutely necessary, and don’t think I’ll run around and do your chores or cook your meals like one of your little servants. Just because you’re a prince doesn’t mean you’ll be treated like one under this roof.”

“We live in the 21st century, not the renaissance. Your idea of royal families is very dated.” Chan chuckles dryly.

“Baron Yoon Jeonghan from the seven islands is a stuck-up prick and out of touch with the world. It took him several visits to the slums, multiple voluntary hours at the kindergarten, and stripping him off his bank card to make him see reason,” you deadpan. Fuck Baron Jeonghan. Just thinking about your first and last encounter with that entitled douchebag almost makes you slice your finger instead of the bell pepper. “Duchess Yoo Shiah threw a hissy fit when she found out her clothes weren’t dry cleaned and bought from Zara instead of fucking Dior. The one who takes the cake when it comes to privilege is Princess Kim Min—”

“Everyone knows they are problematic,” Chan interjects. True, he has a point. There’s nobody out there who doesn’t know about Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah but he’s also missing the entire point.

“And guess who gets stuck under the care of the RPP?” you raise a brow at him. He blanches at the realization as if he got struck with lightning. Perhaps you should give him more credit because he seems to own more brain cells than Baron Jeonghan. “Exactly. Everyone problematic.” 

Chan’s jaw is clenched as he racks his brain to come up with a smart comeback. The sight of him stumbling on his words is nothing but pitiful, so you turn back to the cutting board and grab an onion to slice in half. “I’m not interested in your sob story, your Highness. I don’t care why you’re under the protection of the RPP. The only thing I care about is that you stay out of my business.”

“Chan is fine. No need for the title,” he sighs with a strain. “Perhaps I should’ve been more considerate with my first comment. Youngjae already told me about your… negative attitude towards the entire setup. It wasn’t my intention to anger you. Sorry.”

Well, that’s new. Out of the dozens of aristocrats you’ve met (and sadly also shared a house with back when you were 16 years old and still living with your dad), he’s the first to drop his title within five minutes for the sake of the disguise and apologize. 

“We live under the same roof so we should get along with each other. If there’s something you need help with, just ask me, (y/n).”

“Thanks for the offer,” you reply nonchalantly because act civilized unless you want to suffer from a late-night sneak attack from Youngjae if he finds out. “But no thanks. I don’t need your help.”

You find yourself in need of help a few weeks later, right before the dreaded exam season.

“No. Forget it, Bam. I’m not going out clubbing with you tonight. In fact, I won’t do that anytime soon.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you try to break down to your friend that you prioritize your grades over his need of getting wasted.

“C’mon!” he whines so loudly that you have to put your phone farther away from your ear. “You’re not in that much stress yet! You have to make the most out of it before you drown in your exams.”

“Things are different for engineering students like, uh, me for example!” you hiss. “I fell behind and need to catch up. Ask Yugyeom or Changbin.”

“First of all, Yugyeom is always at the bar doing his job. And Changbin never picks up his phone. There’s nobody who’d dance with me!”

“You abandoned me at the bar for some chick the last time,” you deadpan. “I’m very sure you’ll find someone.”

Bambam finally gets the gist and gives up. “Fine then. Your loss. Have fun dying in numbers and variables instead of living in the moment. You’re going to regret it—”

You end the call and set your phone on mute before throwing it on the bed. Sometimes you wonder whether you were on drugs when you decided to major in engineering. The longer you stare at the jumble of numbers and letters — some of them in Greek too — the more you think your brain cells are decaying.

That’s how you find yourself in the kitchen, complaining at Youngjae’s expense and telling him how much you’d rather drown in bleach than subjecting yourself to Algebra II. 

“You know there’s someone you can ask for help and he’s right here,” Youngjae drawls before chugging down the rest of his beer. If he’s going to be a victim to your temper tantrum about a major that you chose yourself, he might as well get a drink so he won’t go insane from your monologue about numbers and graphs and formulas he’s forgotten since he graduated from high school.

You gawk at him. “You? Are you hearing yourself? You almost failed maths. Twice!”

“Because I didn’t mean myself, dipshit,” he says blankly and his eyes flit over your shoulder, “Speaking of the devil. There comes the man of honor.”

You whip your head back to the door to see Chan enter confusedly. “Uh, did I interrupt something?”

“Yes.”

“No, we were just talking about you!”

You send Youngjae a death glare which he casually shrugs off. “(y/n) here is bitching about her Statistics I class and needs a tutor!”

“It’s actually Algebra II if you bothered to pay attention—”

“(y/n) needs a tutor!” Youngjae exclaims and nearly trips on his feet when he gets up from his chair. “Channie, I heard you’re good with numbers. Didn’t you get accepted into all Ivy Leagues in the States for all engineering programs?”

“You didn’t have to word it like that,” Chan laughs it off and nervously rubs the back of his head. He’s not denying it though.

“Obviously he would. He’s loaded and lives in a castle,” you mutter under your breath, but everyone catches it.

“Hey,” Youngjae warns. “That wasn’t necessary.”

“It’s alright,” Chan says casually. “I just wanted to get myself a snack. But if you have some questions, don’t hesitate to knock on my door. The offer still stands, y’know.” He digs through the cabinet until he finds two packs of the strawberry flavored Pocky knockoff that is 1) apparently his favorite thing to eat and 2) half the price of the Pocky version. He gives Youngjae a thumbs up before he returns to his room.

The moment Chan is out of sight, Youngjae whips his head to you, nostrils flaring. All that’s missing is steam coming out of his ears and his face running red and then he looks like the impetuous brother in every kids cartoon ever. “Really? He’s been staying with us for how long now? Four weeks? Five? Yet you’re still acting as if he murdered you in your dreams or something.”

“I don’t like him,” you state coldly. Youngjae looks like he’s about to rip his hair out.

“Look, I get that you don’t like me being active in this field of work, and I get that you have some hatred against the royal families. But you know you signed up for this when you decided to move in with me.” Youngjae pauses to get a breather and pop a new beer bottle open. “Besides, Chan isn’t like Baron Jeonghan or Duchess Shiah. I have eyes, (y/n), and I’ve seen you two avoiding each other as much as possible. And he doesn’t just laze around — he does the fucking chores and cooks dinner too! Chan is good, (y/n).”

The last words make you snap. “Good? Are you fucking serious? Because that’s why the press in his kingdom is depicting him as a tyrant who cares more about building his sick harem instead of helping the poor. And wasn’t he diagnosed for having anger management issues?!”

All the color leaves Youngjae’s face. This is obviously something you shouldn’t know. While he’s scrambling for words, you take the chance to add, “Dunno why you’re protecting him when he’s making headlines as a prince who can’t keep his dick in his pants.”

“Chan isn’t just a prince,” Youngjae says quietly. “He’s the crown prince.”

Your eyes widen at the confession. “What? Isn’t that even worse with that reputation he has?”

“It’s all propaganda,” he sighs and takes a swig, “The ministers are doing everything they can to finish him off. You see, Chan is the only child of the current king of the seven islands, and if he’s wiped out, it’ll be utter chaos. Chan’s smart and I admit, he used to have anger issues, but he’s worked on them. Though I guess he’s resorted to bottling up his feelings when push comes to pull. The point is, all the higher-ups don’t want him as their future king because they know that Chan is very much capable of pulling through with his own ideas and that doesn’t sit well with them. And a supposedly impulsive future king is the last thing anyone wants, hence why his people are eating up the news.”

“Oh.” you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. However, it’s not the first time you’ve heard such stories. 

“Yeah. Oh,” Youngjae mocks, “If that’s the main reason why you don’t want to talk to him, now you know better. He might have power, but he’s not a monster. And for the record, he got into all Ivy Leagues and elite schools all over the world through his intelligence, not his status.”

Although you can see it in his eyes that Youngjae is done with the heated discussion, he’s still waiting for you to say something. You frown. “So… you think he’s a good tutor?”

“He’s your only shot.” Youngjae says nonchalantly, then adds with a warning tone, “But remember: Act. Civilized. Oh, and don’t tell him I told you about his circumstances. It’s supposed to be confidential information.”

You roll your eyes. How the fuck hasn’t Youngjae been busted yet?

Nonetheless, you’re trudging to Chan’s door a few minutes later, your fat binder of incomprehensible math formulas and (Greek) letter heavy in your arm. Chan opens the door with surprise etched on his face after you knocked, but it settles to warmth when you begrudgingly ask him to help you understand Algebra II. 

“Sorry, it’s a little messy here,” he chuckles airily once he lets you in. It’s not messy per se, just a few clothes piled up in a corner of the room and some books and messily written notes lying on his bed. Still, it’s by far cleaner than the pig stall that is Youngjae’s room (and yours when you’re having a very bad day).

Chan clears his desk and drags his other chair to the table before plopping down on it. “So, what’s the problem?” Instead of answering, you just shove a sheet of paper up his face. “Y’know, you can talk to me. If this is about earlier, it’s really alright. I’m not mad or anything,” he says with the same friendly tone you’ve been hearing ever since he moved in, yet he still takes the sheet from you. You watch his brows scrunch together the more he reads on, and you can already see the question forming in his mind.

“(y/n), you do know this is the basis to understand—”

“I was absent when the professor covered it and everyone I asked couldn’t quite explain it to me,” you respond before he can finish speaking out his thoughts. “All my friends were like—” you gesture with your hands, “—you just do this and that and then hope your hunch is right. Before you say it, yes I know that I don’t get the material of one entire unit and the exam is two weeks away.”

“Then let’s not waste any time,” Chan says before grabbing his iPad. You stare at him blankly as he writes something on his tablet. The last thing you expected from him was to accept it and try to hammer as much of missing information as he can into your brain, but then again, you’ve never seen him backtrack whenever Youngjae asks him something. Speaking of Youngjae, perhaps he is right. Chan does seem to know what he’s talking about.

“You have to subtract X first, then replace it with Y,” he explains as he circles said letters in different colors. By now, you’ve leaned closer to him to get a better view on what he’s writing (his handwriting isn’t the worst you’ve ever had to decode; refer to Youngjae who you’ve internally awarded with the worst handwriting of the decade). 

Chan is exceptionally good at explaining. You feel like you’ve figured out a secret of the world that not even Pythagoras found out as you slowly understand what on Earth you are supposed to calculate with the formula. Chan is patient, always asking if you got it or if you needed another clarification, and takes the time to draw colorful graphs to visualize the jumble of numbers. His voice is pleasing to the ear too, soft and gentle to the point where you’ve blurred everything out except Chan. Chan’s voice. Chan’s hand.

You didn’t mean to stare, but with him always adding something new every five seconds as he goes on with his monologue, you can’t help but do so. His fingers aren’t long — that’ll always be courtesy of Hyunjin from Subway and yes, his very pretty hands might be the sole reason you only insist on going to that one specific Subway at the intersection next to KFC — but just one glance at Chan’s hand and you know that he’s strong. 

He’s barely applying pressure to the pen, but you can see the veins slightly protruding. Chan’s sleeves are pushed back and if you move your head a bit, you’re more than certain that veins are bulging out from his forearms too. However, you don’t muster up the courage to do that because Chan will definitely notice and the last thing you want on your platter is to tell him that you were too busy checking out his arms instead of listening to him talk about Algebra II.

Eventually, Chan sets the pen down to stretch his hand. He says something, but you don’t pick up what exactly. Not that it’d matter much anyway since you’re too busy admiring his hand—

“(y/n), you there? I called out your name several times but you didn’t react.” Chan’s breath hitches and surprise flashes in his eyes for a split second when his gaze meets yours. You don’t understand his hesitation, but then horror bubbles in you once you realize that his hand is firmly gripping your chin and keeping your head pointed at his direction. The very same hand you’ve been staring at for God knows how long. 

“I’m good. Just a little tired, but I’m good,” you stutter, though it comes out very breathlessly as if you just finished a marathon.

“Tired?” Chan echoes, concern settling into his features. “You should’ve said so, then I would’ve stopped talking. You need something?”

Now that you think about it, you’ve never got a close look at Chan. Sure, he’s handsome, the countless pictures of Google prove that he’s also too photogenic for his own good (goddamnit, why didn’t your parents make you just as photogenic?) but in person, he’s something else. His lips are plush and look very inviting to kiss, and the lower your eyes wander, the more you see a toned chest hidden underneath that damn shit that hugs him in all the right places.

Fine, his hands aren’t the only attractive thing about him. Then again, he’s a prince.

“I said I’m good.” you snap out of your thoughts and finally gather enough control over your nerves to tear his hand away. “And I caught everything you said.” Of course, you know that’s a blatant lie and he knows so too from the way he’s looking at you. That is until he quirks a brow.

“Okay, then what did I say before I called you?”

Your mouth feels dry. It’s almost as if he knew the reason for your distress. “I caught everything relevant to this,” you mutter, suddenly finding his curtains much more interesting. What an interesting design, maybe you should get yourself new curtains too—

“Then you wouldn’t mind solving these questions, right? Just so I can make sure that you got everything down.”

“Sure,” you reply because that’s the only thing you could say without hurting your ego and straining your vocal cords. Chan doesn’t comment any further and looks for some practice questions before sliding the iPad to you. Already the first question makes your head spin in disdain. Numbers? Variables? Never heard of them.

Chan is watching you like a hawk as you fiddle with the pen, unable to write down anything that makes remote sense. Feeling his eyes on you makes you feel helpless and you shift around in your seat. “What are you staring at?” you glare at him once you give up for good, and you just hope that your look is as intimidating as you pictured in your head.

“You’re definitely exhausted. You’re shaking,” Chan points out. Your eyes widen as you stare down and realize that your thighs are shaking, and it’s then and there when you realize that you’re feeling hot. Seems like Chan doesn’t realize that because the worry written on his face is genuine. “You say the exam’s in two weeks right? We can stop for today and work on this tomorrow. That is if you still want my help.”

You nod and add in a tiny voice, “Yes, please.”

You’re too busy ignoring the heat building between your thighs to notice the borderline feral sound that leaves Chan.

“And here I thought you had quality bonding time.” Youngjae gives a disappointed look. “You’re acting even colder towards him than before your exam meltdown. Your prick level can only stoop down so low.”

You ended up getting tutor lessons from Chan every day before the dreaded day of judgment: the exam in Algebra II. You spent more hours in his room than on your own if you were completely honest, and the results were fruitful. While you did manage to pass the exam with a fairly high score, the price you had to pay was hell.

It’s almost as if Chan caught up on your hand fixation. Sometimes he twirled the pen in his fingers, sometimes it was the simple bracelet dangling on his wrist. Just when you thought he had you figured out, he asks you if you’re alright, visibly oblivious to his effect on you. Such duality in a person should be illegal, you conclude. If you die from whiplash, you know who the perpetrator is.

“You were the one who pretty much pressured me into asking him for help,” you drawl.

“I had good intentions only! You can’t keep up the I-hate-royal-families-blah-blah mentality the entire time!” Youngjae wails before stuffing a handful of chips in his mouth.

“Watch me.” You internally cringe at the loud crunching sounds he’s making and add vigorously, “And stop chewing so loudly.”

“You’ll get around or so help me God—” he groans when his phone buzzes. He doesn’t spare a glance at the caller ID because there’s only one person who has set his ringtone to the baby shark song specifically for when he’s calling. “I gotta go, Jinyoung’s being a bitch again. Don’t murder somebody. Thanks.” You only watch him shuffle for his bag and grab a handful of chips before he’s out the door. Groaning, you clean up the mess he’s made on the table. 

Just as you’re done wiping the crumbs off the surface, Chan pads into the room. 

“Hey, can we talk?”

“I established right at the beginning that you should only talk to me when absolutely necessary.” you scowl, trying to walk past him.

“Well, this is important,” he urges and blocks the doorway, effectively stopping you from fleeing. “And I do deserve one conversation with you after I helped you out.”

“You offered on your own. That’s not the same as asking for a favor.” You successfully push your way past him, but in the next moment, he spins you around and pins you against the wall. 

“We’re going to talk, whether you like it or not.” The sudden coldness of his tone has shivers running down your spine. Chan holds your wrist in an iron grip and if he clutched on any tighter, you wouldn’t put it past him to break your bones. Out of options, you comply and give him a curt nod before he lets go and takes a step back. 

“I don’t understand you, (y/n). I genuinely thought you would put your prejudices aside but instead, all I get are mixed signals from you.”

It’s your turn to gawk. “Me? Mixed signals? What are you talking about?” 

“I’m talking about how you keep looking at me as if you want me to fuck your brains out.” If the color hasn’t drained from your face yet, it has now. Chan smiles wickedly at your horrified reaction but doesn’t stop there. “I’m talking about how you talk like you don’t want anything to do with me but act as if you’re begging for my attention.” He takes a step closer to you, and you wish you could morph with the wall. “I’m talking about how you keep staring at my hands and think I don’t notice it.” You wince when he rests his hands against the wall on each side of your face, leaning closer so that you can feel his breath on your lips. “So, you have a thing for my hands?” Bullseye.

“You’re so full of yourself. No wonder your ministers want to get rid of you,” you snap because you’d rather suffer from food poisoning than admitting that you want Chan’s fingers in you.

Something shifts within Chan. He gapes at you, clearly not expecting you to even know about the ministers. His demeanor darkens in a blink of an eye, and you feel like your legs are about to give up on you when you meet his eyes, black and feral.

“You’re playing with fire. Don’t anger me,” he warns, voice low and rough.

“So it’s true that you resorted to bottling up your feelings, your Highness?” you cock your head to the side. Chan clenches his jaw at the mention of his title, struggling to keep his anger in check. You laugh through your nose, then grab one of his hands and force it away from the wall. If he already knows that you’re thirsting after him, might as well go for it. “It’s funny how your ministers aren’t able to string you around like a puppet yet here you are, unable to do anything against a commoner. You know you have nice hands and you know my weakness and yet, you’re not using them on me.” He gulps when you fumble with his fingers. 

And then he understands.

“Unless I misread the situation,” he says darkly, though you distinguish the slight tremor his voice carries. “Do you really want this? I’m not going to go easy on you.” Chan is dead serious, judging by the way he’s looking at you expectantly. 

“The safe word is petunia.” You don’t take your eyes off him and add in a louder tone, “Now try me, do your worst.”

“You’re going to regret wanting me at my worst,” Chan growls and before you know it, he crashes his lips against yours. The kiss is anything but sweet, more of a clash of teeth and tongues and saliva dribbling down your chins, yet it leaves you boiling hot and wobbly on your feet. He presses you up against the wall and forces his leg between yours, the sudden contact making you hunch forward. You moan against his mouth when he tugs harshly on your hair, the sting making your nerves go haywire. In the meantime, your hands roam his upper body, blunt nails digging into his shoulders as you try to buck your hips against his leg. While he doesn’t budge, you manage to elicit a groan out of him.

When you pull away, you’re both gasping for air. Chan’s hair is disheveled from the way you’ve been pulling on them, lips pink and glossy. One look in his eyes is enough to make your heart stop beating. They’re dark and animalistic and set ablaze with unfiltered lust. You’re such in a daze from a simple kiss that you nearly stumble when Chan drags you to his room.

He manhandles you on his bed with ease before his lips latch on yours once more. You nearly sob when he rids you off your pants, putting pressure in all the right places to have you losing your mind. As you’re about to gain back some dominance in the kiss, he breaks it off. His fingers that were once ghosting over your underwear are now tracing patterns all over the material, making you spasm. “You’re such a brat, all bark but no bite. All it takes is one kiss and you’ve lost all your fight. Can you get any more pathetic?” he mocks as he focuses his fingertips directly on the wet patch of your underwear. Your eyes roll back as he rubs on the same spot, the broken moans leaving you eerily similar to cries. “Don’t tell me you’re about to come like this. How sensitive are you?”

“Am n-not—” you cut yourself off with a whimper when he lets the waistband snap against your skin.

“Yeah, you sure about that?” he grins and that’s when you break, feeling your high approaching at lightning speed. 

“Don’t wanna come like this—” 

“But I thought you’re not sensitive?” the satisfied grin just widens with every syllable that leaves his lips. “If you don’t want to come like this, all over your underwear, beg.” 

Chan applies even more force to your sensitive spots, and you struggle to have a clear thought. The smirk he delivers is lethal, and you couldn’t be any more convinced that he’s the devil’s incarnate.

“I’ll do anything, please. Don’t let me come like this, that’s all I’m a-aah-asking for,” you weep, your blood nearly boiling at its climax, “I’ll even take a punishment!”

“Say my name,” he orders, fingers still drawing circles.

“Your—”

“My name, not my title.”

Your breath hitches as you finally realize what he’s aiming for. He wants you to remember that it’s him who’s reducing you into this illiterate mess. Him, the one you’ve been despising since before you even met. If you still had any ounce of dignity left, you’d try to fix the power imbalance until you’re left with no choice but to obey, but now you’re so close and the last thing you want to do is come with your pants on.

“Please, Chan,” your voice breaks towards the end and in an instant, he pulls away. As you’re letting you’re basking in the break from his brutal tempo, not too affected by how your upcoming orgasm is fading away, Chan observes you.

And then out of nowhere, he flips you on your stomach and delivers a hard smack to your ass that has you screaming into the pillows.

“You said you’d take any punishment too, right?” You twitch as he rubs the small of your back. You can already imagine the handprints on your ass he continued to slap you with such force that has you moving up the bed. The pain that’s going to haunt you for days. Before you know it, you try to arch your back to lift your ass, but then the bed shifts. “But if you really think I’m going to spank you as a punishment, then you’re really fucking dumb. As if I’ll use my hands on you when we both know you love my hands.”

With that, he drops himself on his chair, spreading his legs that you can see the prominent tent forming in his pants. He orders you over with a flick of his finger, and just as you get up from the bed, a new wave of horror flushes over you.

“Crawl.”

The look you send him is priceless. There’s no fucking way you can do it. It’s just a few meters, nothing you can’t handle, but he’s there sitting on his Ikea swivel chair as if it’s his throne made of gold, watching your every movement like a predator. And then there’s you, only in a shirt and underwear, being forced to go on all fours as if you were his fucking dog—

The difference in power display couldn’t get any more visible. He really is the fucking worst.

“You’d really do anything, huh…” he muses as you drop on your hands and knees and crawl to him, never looking up. It’s only when he beckons you to stand up that you look at him with nothing but rage and shame in your eyes. Chan has always been slightly terrified with your death stare but right now, he can’t take it seriously and it shows. It shows in the way he smiles lopsidedly, in the way his brows quirk in amusement. “Now hump my leg.”

Humiliation runs through your body all over. Your fists are clenched as he waits for you to act, even pats his thigh in case you didn’t get the memo. But oh you do, and his thigh does look inviting.

“Hump my leg like the brainless bitch you are. If you want my hands or my cock, you earn it first. Especially since you treated me like shit ever since I moved in.” The last sentence burns you badly because he has a point. But then there’s the prospect of his hands and dick that’s bulging out of his pants. 

Pushing all thoughts away, you settle on his leg. Taking a moment to gather yourself, you tell yourself it’s all good and then you move. The first thrust knocks all air out of your lungs and you grab onto his shoulders for support. You didn’t even move that much, but Chan’s looking at you as if he’s about to fucking devour you and knowing that he is very much capable of moving you around, you’re starting to become overwhelmed.

Eventually, you lose yourself in the feeling of his rough jeans against your drenched underwear, humping on his thigh as your orgasm builds up. It’s silent, save for your pants, and the countless whimpers flying past your lips as your movements gradually become sloppier. You’re almost there and you know it. But so does Chan, and the moment he’s got it figured out, he lunges from your hips and forces you to pick up the pace. 

“Oh no, you’re going to come,” he growls, ignoring your pleas and sobs. Adrenaline courses in your blood and you know it isn’t long until you fall apart. You try to make him stop, even put your hands on his, but you don’t have the energy to actively push him away.

“Chan, please— I’m gonna—”

“You’re gonna come? Then fucking come on my thigh, (y/n),” he snaps, and then adds, “You hear that? You’re about to come from humping my thigh.”

Maybe it’s the realization that he’s right, maybe it’s the way he’s worded it. Either way, it’s the last straw to make you spasm as you come, soaking your underwear and even managing to make a mess out of his pants. Chan makes sure you ride through your orgasm, only stopping to move your hips once you’re all spent and resting your head on his shoulder. Your eyes are glassy, vision foggy, but the only thing you can envision clearly is Chan.

Chan jolts when your hand grazes over his bulge. You’re about to undo his pants, but he’s quick to stop you and restrict your hands behind your back.

“You think you deserve my cock? Dream on. As if I would fuck any commoner, especially those who don’t respect me,” he spits, and you flinch at his choice of words, clearly recalling that you used the exact same terms and he’s now using it against you. “You said you’d take any punishment. Well, guess what? This was just punishment number one.”

[bangtan-sonyeonddaeng]

:Jungkook scenario:

Jungkook had been distant with you lately. And you didn’t understand why. Things were going great between you two. In fact you were coming up on your 1 year anniversary of being together. You realized it was about a week ago when he started acting weird, right after you mentioned that your anniversary was coming up. You were laying on your bed, head resting on his chest as he rested a hand on your lower back and was holding you securely against him. 

“I can’t believe we’ve been together for a year. The time really went by fast.” You feel him tense up underneath you and let out a loud exhale. 

“It’s really that soon? Wow...” He says as his voice trails off, almost as if his mind is somewhere else. 

“Yeah! It is next Saturday. I can’t wait to spend the day with you.” 

“Mhm.” 

“Is everything okay?”

“Huh? Oh yeah everything is fine. Don’t worry. I have something special planned for us so I will spoil you rotten.” You giggle and lean up to place a kiss on his cheek. That earns you a small smile although it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. You frown and furrow your brows.

“Are you sure everything is fine? Is anything bothering you?”

“No. Don’t worry. I’m alright, love.” He places his hand on the back of your neck and brings you into a kiss. You absolutely melt and completely forget whatever doubts are floating around in your head. Until the next day that is.

Everytime you text him you are given one word answers if he answers at all. Calls go to voicemail, or he only talks for a few moments and then hangs up on you, claiming he’s too busy to talk. With what you aren’t exactly sure. As far as you know they aren’t planning any comebacks, no performances or interviews coming up. They’re supposed to have the week off. Which is why you were hoping to spend every day with him until the day of your anniversary. 

You know he is avoiding you. You just don’t understand why. Was he not planning on spending your anniversary with you because he was going to break up with you? Did he not love you anymore? You wished you could just ask him about it but all day today your texts have been left on read, and your calls have been declined. It honestly broke your heart. It was now the day before what was supposed to be a special day, a milestone in your relationship meant to be spent together. But now you can’t help but wonder if you even still have a boyfriend at all. 

You made up your mind. If Jungkook wasn’t going to be honest with you maybe he had confided with one of the members. You knew your best bet was Jimin. Jungkook had often told you stories about how Jimin was always the one he looked to for comfort when he was upset. So if you had done something to upset him maybe he would have told him. You pulled out your phone to bring up Jimin’s contact. He answered rather quickly. 

“Y/n! Hey how are you?”

“Um.. well I am not really sure to be honest.”

“Really? What’s wrong you can always talk to me, you know that right?”

“I do. That’s why I called you. Jungkook isn’t with you is he?”

“Hmm no. He’s out with Namjoon. Why?”

“Has he... said anything to you lately? About us?”

“Like what do you mean? He usually always talks about how sickeningly in love he is with you... Actually now that I think about it he hasn’t talked much about you lately which is weird for him. Did something happen with you two?”

“I don’t know and that’s the problem.” Your voice cracks and you feel a few tears slip out of your eyes.

“Ah no! Sunshine don’t cry! It makes me sad to hear you crying.” 

You sniffle and wipe your eyes, taking a few calming breaths before you continue. 

“He has been so distant from me lately. And it started when I mentioned our anniversary. He’s basically been a ghost since then and I have barely heard from him even though our anniversary is tomorrow. I feel like I need to prepare myself for the inevitable break up at this point because he obviously doesn’t love me anymore.” 

“Whoa whoa I’m going to stop you right there. Break up? Not love you anymore? Y/n I have never seen Jungkook like this with anyone before. You’re his entire word and he adores you.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it lately. I’m just gonna go now. Prepare myself ya know? It was nice while it lasted but, I guess I just wasn’t enough for him.”

“Hey no, don’t talk like that. Listen, I don’t know what is going on because he hasn’t told me anything but I will get to the bottom of this okay? Don’t lose faith in him.” 

“That’s okay. Thank you for trying at least. But I’d rather not get my hopes up. It’s just going to make things even worse tomorrow.” 

“Y/n-”

“Bye, Jimin.” And with that you hang up and turn your phone off, not wanting to be bothered. You make a mental note to go to the grocery store tomorrow morning and stock up on ice cream and your favorite chips to help cope with whatever is waiting for you tomorrow. You don’t cry, you refuse to. At least not yet. For right now you will hold it together until you get a proper explanation from your boyfriend. If he doesn’t love you anymore you’ll just have to accept it and move on. You glance at the clock and notice that it is only 8pm. But you just don’t have the energy to deal with things anymore. So you turn your light off and fall into a restless sleep. 

After you hang up on Jimin he tries to call you back only to have it go straight to voicemail.

“Damnit Jungkook what did you do?” Jimin pulls his phone out and calls Jungkook next, only to have him not answer. So he calls Namjoon.

“Jimin?”

“Where the hell is JK are you still with him?”

“Yeah? why?”

“Give him the phone right now.” 

“What’s-”

“Namjoon please.” Jimin can hear shuffling and some mild arguing before Jungkook finally answers. 

“H-hi hyung.”

“Jeon Jungkook! What on earth is wrong with you?! You’ve been ignoring y/n and she just called me and sounded so upset! She was crying you know! Why are you avoiding her and making her think you don’t love her anymore?”

“She thinks I don’t-”

“You’ve been ignoring her for days! Of course she doesn’t! You know she thinks you’re going to break up with her tomorrow? I’ve never heard her sound so sad before. She hung up on me and now her phone is going straight to voicemail. Why are you trying to mess up things with her?” Jungkook is quiet after that. Jimin gives him time to answer. 

“I’m not trying to. I just... gosh this is going to sound so stupid.”

“It doesn’t matter. Just tell me. We’re better friends than that you know I won’t judge you.” 

“I just feel like a shitty boyfriend okay? Y/n gives me so much and I feel like all I do is take take take. So now when I should finally be giving back to her for all she’s done for me throughout the year, I can’t think of anything! I told her I would spoil her rotten and I can’t even think of anything special for us to do together. She’s going to be so disappointed. I didn’t even realize it was coming up on our anniversary so quickly because the time just went so fast. So I didn’t plan anything. I’m horrible. She’s going to leave me for sure.” Jimin can hear Jungkook’s breath quickening on the other end of the phone and can tell he’s getting worked up. 

“Hey, Jungkookie it’s okay. But you know you’re an idiot right?”

“Wow. Thanks hyung that’s really what I needed to hear right now. Namjoon take your phone back.” He says with his voice dripping with sarcasm. 

“No no that’s not what I meant just listen to me. How long have you known y/n?”

“2 years?”

“And how long have you been dating?”

“What is the point of this?”

“Just answer me!” 

“Tomorrow will be one year if she even still wants to be with me.”

“And in those 2 years has she ever given you the impression she is the type to need grand gestures and big things planned to be happy?”

“...No.”

“And in the past year of you two being together has she ever asked you for anything? Fancy gifts, 5 star restaurants, wine and dine all that stuff?”

“...No. Most of our dates have just been spent at that hole in the wall BBQ restaurant she loves so much.”

“So what makes you think this time will be any different?”

“Huh?”

“What makes you think she’s going to be disappointed if you don’t do that for her tomorrow? Y/n loves you. Not your money, not your status, not your fame. You. She just wants to spend time with you, know that you love her and cherish her as much as you gush to us about. You don’t have to try and impress her just because it’s your anniversary. She just wants you.”

Jungkook is quiet for a few minutes and Jimin begins to wonder if he’s hung up. 

“Oh my gosh... Namjoon! Take your phone back I gotta go!” Jimin can hear more rustling and Namjoon calling after him. 

“What was that all about?”

“Oh nothing. I think Jungkook is just gonna go salvage his relationship with y/n.”

“Salvage? What happened? Those two adore each other?” 

“Come over and I’ll tell you. Pick up some Soju while you’re out please! Bye hyung!” 

You wake up to loud frantic knocking on your front door. You can hear muffled yelling but can’t make out who it is or what they’re saying. You glance at the clock and see it’s now 11pm. You’ve only slept for three hours. You groan and sleepily get out of bed, shuffling your feet over to the door. You look through the peephole and see Jungkook standing there. You take a deep breath and open the door. You’ve already mentally prepared yourself, you at least just thought he’d wait until tomorrow. You don’t say anything, just leave the door open and walk to sit down on the couch. You hear the door close and a few moments later Jungkook is sitting next to you. He wastes no time before he speaks up. 

“I’m sorry. Y/n I-”

“No it’s okay. Don’t apologize. You can’t help how you feel or.. in this case don’t feel. It’ll take some time but I’ll get over you eventually. I was really happy with you ya know? The memories we have together I will always cherish but-” Jungkook presses a finger to your lips and your eyes widen in surprise. 

“Y/n stop. I’m not breaking up with you.” 

You tilt your head in confusion and he lowers his hand.

“You’re not?”

“No. God, no of course not. I love you so much you don’t even know. I can’t even properly put into words how much. I just was scared because I didn’t have anything amazing planned for our anniversary and when I told you I did and that I was going to spoil you I panicked. I didn’t want you to be disappointed and break up with me.”

“You honestly think I would have done that?”

“Well, I mean deep down I knew you wouldn’t but sometimes fear and anxiety wins over your common sense you know?” You shake your head and put your arms around his neck and pull him into a hug. 

“I just wanted to spend time with you. We could have spent our whole day here in our pajamas watching movies and eating pizza. It wouldn’t have mattered to me silly. I just love you.” 

“That’s exactly what Jimin hyung said.”

“Oh.. so he did call you after all.”

“Yeah he did. Right after you two got off the phone actually. Gave me an earful which was deserved.” You giggle and pull away and place a kiss on his forehead. “I’m really sorry y/n.”

“It’s okay. Just, don’t ever do that again. If something is bothering you we’ll work through it together. And just know that I don’t ever expect any big crazy plans or dates or gestures from you. As long as I have your company that’s all I need to be happy.”

Jungkook’s smile grows so wide as he hears your reassuring and comforting words. He leans in and gives you a sweet kiss, lingering there for a few moments before he pulls away and mumbles that he loves you against your lips. 

“I love you too. Now let’s go to sleep. Tomorrow we can just stay home and relax and spend the day together. Okay?”

“That sounds perfect.”

[laurenwritesfics]

Untidy Lives (Preview)

YEAR ONE:

There was only one person April Kepner could truly count on to brighten up a dull day – her mother, Karen, and it seemed she had taken that duty literally. Crunching up the driveway in white heels and a sunshine yellow dress, she greeted April with a screech, enveloping her in a tight hug.

Today, Harriet Kepner-Avery was turning one.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, honey.” Karen pulled back, holding April’s wrists. “Let me look at you.” Her eyes drifted from her daughter’s warm cinnamon hair to her loose blouse, jeans and white sneakers. Throughout April’s adolescence, people had gushed over how much she looked like her mother. Now, she was an entirely separate person. No longer her mother’s shadow. Karen tutted. “Is this what you’re wearing?”

April sighed. “I didn’t have time-“

“Nonsense,” Karen wafted a hand, “your father’s getting the gifts from the car. Go freshen up. We’ll keep the birthday girl occupied for a little while. Besides…” she trailed off, miming a gagging motion and nodding towards the stain on her shoulder. April pulled at the soft cotton and frowned. How long had that stain been there? She didn’t know. The discovery of the stain had diverted her train of thought. She leaned over Karen’s shoulder and caught a glimpse of the familiar blue Volvo.

“Wait, Dad’s here?”

Karen was interrupted – a rare occurrence in their almost forty year marriage – by her husband, Joe. He ambled towards the two of them, lugging a stack of immaculately wrapped gifts.

“Well, hello there Little Miss!”

“Dad! I thought you were working on the farm?”

“What, and miss my granddaughter’s first birthday? Not a chance!” Joe chortled. Karen took two boxes from the top of the pile when Joe arrived at the doorstep. “And I wasn’t talking to you, I was talking to this one.” He inclined his head, his voice soft and peppy as he reached past April to tweak Harriet’s nose.

April whipped around to see Matthew bouncing a half-asleep Harriet in his arms. “She’s supposed to be napping for another hour.” She chided.

“I know, but it’s her first birthday. I don’t want her to miss it.”

“She’ll miss it when she uses her ice cream cake as a pillow because she didn’t get a whole nap.”

Matthew huffed. “I think Mommy underestimates me.”

April ignored him, one foot in the doorway. “I’m gonna go change my shirt. You can put the gifts in the living room.”

Karen followed her inside while Matthew, Harriet and Joe moved to the back yard.

As much as she hated to admit it, her mother was right. Changing into a floral blouse and a pair of flats – and at Karen’s insistence, some light makeup – although April felt tired, she didn’t look it anymore. With a final scrunch of her hair and a pop of her lips, she peered out of the bedroom window. Harriet was sat in the grass, her tiny fingers wrapped around the string of a pink balloon. Jackson was pulling the string, making it bob up and down, much to Harriet’s delight. Shit. Jackson. She had assumed he would be late, fresh from the hospital. She blinked rapidly, taken aback, and rushed out of the room. Karen found April with her head in the refrigerator.

“Mom, can you get the candles?”

“What’s the rush?” Karen exclaimed.

April tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, leaning back to meet her mother’s baffled gaze. “Jackson’s here.”

“Oh.” She replied flatly, rifling through every drawer in the kitchen island. “Where are the darn matches?”

“I’m married to a First Responder, remember? They’re in a super-secret safe place that nobody on Earth can find.”

“Of course,” she shook her head in amusement “I’ll go ask him.”

“No,” April stepped away from the refrigerator to block her path “I’ll go. The paper plates and napkins are in the-“

“Third drawer, I know.” Karen pressed a hand to her cheek. “Take a breath. Go out there and enjoy it. I can take care of everything.”

Karen Kepner was a woman of her word. She had fussed over Harriet from the moment she was born. April would usually have found this irritating, but losing Samuel, her first-born, changed that. Karen dropped everything to be with April and Jackson while they grieved. While Jackson worked and April sat sobbing on the couch in their cramped condo. When April got up in the middle of the night, convinced she could hear his cries and Jackson couldn’t console her. What might have seemed like interfering before was now a blessing. Harriet was a blessing. And April was going to experience every moment with her to the fullest extent.

Outside, Joe and Matthew were hunched over the barbecue.

“Mommy’s here!” Matthew hollered, a few whoops and cheers sounding behind him. He sauntered over to April and wrapped his arms around her, lowering his voice to a sultry whisper. “And Mommy looks hot.”

April pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. “I should go and say hi to everyone before the cake’s brought out.” Her hands slipped from his chest. It wasn’t hard for Matthew to work out that by ‘everyone’, she meant Jackson. She mingled with family and friends, ate one of Joe’s famous almost-cremated burgers, cuddled and cooed at Harriet. From the outside, it looked easy for her. On the inside, it took every ounce of strength she had.

The moment her eyes locked with Jackson’s, Matthew strolled over, one hand placed protectively on the small of her back. Her past and her present stood before her, and the only similarity between them was the brand of beer they were drinking. Jackson removed one hand from the pocket of his grey hoodie to offer Matthew an awkward handshake.

“No Maggie?” April probed.

“We broke up.” Jackson rubbed the back of his shaved head. “A while ago.”

“Oh, sorry.” April scrunched her nose and inhaled sharply.

“Yeah. I was seeing someone, actually – a paramedic – but we, uh…” He glanced at his feet.

“Ah.” April nodded.

“That sucks, buddy.” Matthew smacked Jackson on the arm. It was like this every time Matthew and Jackson met. Awkward. Stunted. A sterile attempt at civility.

Harriet toddled over, held up by Joe. He wiggled her arms to make it look as if she was waving. “Little Miss was chewing her fist, so I think it’s time for cake.” Jackson bent down as Joe handed her over. “I’ll go help your mother in the kitchen.” He smoothed his shirt. “At least I won’t have to call 911 in an emergency.”

“Good luck.” April quipped.

Jackson’s eyes popped, making Harriet giggle. He, April and Matthew burst into laughter. She was the glue that held their paper-thin relationship together.

A discordant rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’ drifted from the kitchen as Joe and Karen emerged with a large pink ice cream cake. Jackson bounced Harriet and kissed her wispy hair. A single candle wilted, unlit, in the center. Still, they mimed blowing it out. Matthew stuffed the candle in his pocket before the cake was set down on the patio table. April held Harriet to her hip and pulled up a chair.

“Everybody grab a plate!” She yelled, and the crowd scattered. They returned to the sight of Harriet happily digging her fist into the cake.

When the time came to open Harriet’s gifts, everyone gathered in the living room to watch her grab and teethe on the corners of the boxes. The first gift was from Matthew’s mother, Patricia, who Harriet had dubbed Tee-Tee. Her relationship with April was complicated, but not complicated enough to stop her from spending time with her second granddaughter. Harriet already owned a sensory play set, but still they appreciated the gesture, thanking her with kind eyes.

“Say thank you, Tee-Tee.” April encouraged Harriet, pointing to Patricia.

Harriet’s lips grappled with the word for a moment. Then, an outburst of “Tee-Tee!”

Patricia smiled, walking over to the couch to sweep her palm across Harriet’s hair and press a kiss to the crown of her head. The next gift came from Jackson’s mother, Catherine, and step-father Richard. A beautifully engraved silver piggy bank with a dollar tucked into the slot.

“It’s never too early to start saving. Especially if she’s going to get into Harvard.” She quirked a perfectly curved eyebrow and smiled.

“Catherine!” Richard playfully chided.

“Thank you.” April said again, beginning to feel the words lose their meaning.

Joe and Karen had bought an assortment of farm-related toys and books, which made April roll her eyes. Harriet immediately shoved the rubbery head of a cow into her mouth.

Matthew and April’s gift, a sit-to-stand walker, was yet another addition to Harriet’s collection of pink items. When they had decorated the nursery, Matthew’s only comment was that it looked as though someone had poured Pepto-Bismol over everything. April countered this with the argument that it would encourage Harriet to unapologetically embrace her femininity. Besides, she was sharing the room with Matthew’s daughter Ruby. As usual, he was out-voted by estrogen. So, he buckled under the weight of his love for his three favorite girls.

April heard the subtle hitch of Matthew’s breath beside her. He was smiling, but it was a tight-jawed, forced smile. She knew exactly what – or rather, who - was running through his mind. Karin. Sometimes at night, when April tucked Harriet and Ruby’s blankets into their cribs, she would stare at Ruby, examining every detail of her face. Every faint line on her palms. She felt guilty. Sitting here, watching her own daughter celebrate the milestone that Karin never would. A lump formed in her throat. She reached for Matthew’s hand, but he pulled away. He harrumphed, shifted against the cushions and promptly excused himself. He returned ten minutes later with a glass of water and puffy eyes.

“If you need to take a minute, it’s okay.”

“No, I’m good.”

“Matthew,” April rubbed his arm “take a couple minutes. Get some air. Please?”

He chugged the last of the water and wordlessly agreed, slipping out into the garden. He watched Jackson present April with a hefty 3-in-1 stroller – the one she’d been lusting after for a month. He watched her fumble with its clips to detach the balance bike and plop Harriet onto the seat. He watched another man be the father he would never be. A deep ache spread through him and he leaned against the cool fence, glancing up at the nursery window. He took a long moment to forgive himself for the act of betrayal he was about to commit, then he headed back inside, softly thudding up the stairs. He sat with Ruby for, well, he didn’t know how long, but it was long enough for him to catch a glimpse of Karin. For him to apologize to her with a prayer. Long enough for him to feel guilty for disappearing.

Downstairs, Jackson grabbed another beer from the refrigerator. He turned to April, who was mixing a rum and coke for her mother, and pulled an envelope from his pocket.

“April?” He tapped her on the shoulder. “I know I’ve already given Harriet a gift, but this is something extra. Just a small thing, I promise. I didn’t wanna make a big deal out of it back there.”

“Why?” April ripped the envelope open and her lips parted in confusion. Inside was a receipt for a monthly toy box subscription. “Jackson, what is this?”

“I’m not around all the time. I don’t get to take her to playgroup every week or build blocks with her or read The Velveteen Rabbit. This is my way of being there. I don’t wanna be that guy. The father who slips in and out of his child’s life. I can’t do that to her.”

“Jackson,” April gazed up at him, sharing the sadness in his eyes “you are not your father. If you wanna see her more often, we can work something out.”

Matthew entered the kitchen, dropped his glass in the sink and glared at the two of them. “Sorry for interrupting.” He slunk away.

“Can we?” Jackson quipped.

April rubbed her face and placed the envelope on the kitchen island. “I should get back out there before Dad has another beer and starts doing impressions of farm animals.”

Later, when the house was empty and Harriet had been put to bed messy-mouthed and content, April and Matthew were left to pick up the discarded pieces of wrapping paper and conversation. They sat the dining table, each waiting for the other to speak first. Matthew rolled a beer bottle between his palms as he tried to organize his thoughts. April traced the patterns in the wood-grain, eyes darting up to meet Matthew’s.

“Wanna talk about it?” She prompted, met only with silence. She leaned forward, palm pressed against her cheek. “I know it’s hard, but it would be nice if you let me in every once in a while.”

He replied with a non-committal grunt.

“Say something. Anything. Please, Matthew.” After a beat, she pushed back from the table and walked away. Then, just as she reached the kitchen archway –

“My wife died. What am I supposed to say?”

April’s next breath drained from her mouth. “I’m your wife, Matthew. You’re blinded by grief, not blind.”

Matthew’s head was in his hands, his voice muffled. “I lost Karin, and you saved me, April. You saved me. You know that.”

“Well, it sure doesn’t feel like it.” She snapped.

Every time they fought, April would end up sleeping in a half-empty queen size bed. She woke with a jolt when she felt a cold arm drape across her stomach. They didn’t apologize. They were long past that. They locked eyes and April grazed his cheek with the back of her hand.

“We’ll get through this together. We know each other’s pain, remember?”

“I know.” He pulled her into his chest and hummed against her lips.

That night, in spite of everything, they slept peacefully in each other’s arms.

Read the full story on AO3

[myelocin]

four walls, wilted flowers, and a ring | hanamaki t.

synopsis: it hurts not because of the lie, but because the love you had built with him was as real as the pain from the truth you come across. 

characters: hanamaki takahiro, you

genre: angst warnings: not rlly infidelity but sort of? iDK TEARS

wc: 1700+

a/n: psa i am not over him i’m just in my 2 week petty mode where i am deciding to spice up my au with some angst | tnx 4 d song lena u are partly at fault w this fic

“so is this it?”

“i don’t know,” you hear yourself answer him. it echoes much louder than you initially anticipated so it’s in that moment where you decide that you don’t like the silence very much at all.

the truth is neither of you really want for things to be it. the pictures on the wall still tell you that you’re home. takahiro’s few sizes too big character slippers that are still hanging from your feet still has the same floppy ears he jokingly pointed at one minute, then bought in the next anyway.  the plates in the sink are still a set for two and you know the spoon and fork on top of his plate are still the mismatched ones you know he’s grown attached to.

“i know that if you say something right now then i’ll just end up coming back to you,” you whisper again, and this time you allow yourself to break.

you hear takahiro shift in his seat, but even as the bottom of his chair scratches against the wood floor you remember him sweeping clean just this morning, the absence of his arms around you has the room feeling cold. the weight of reality finally strikes you as the bite of the air nips at your cheeks, and with your head hung low, you come to fully decide that you really hate the silence.

his silence ringing feels too loud.

it’s cold because it’s winter, is the thought that comes into your head as you try to reason with yourself. a minute passes; then two, three, and five before you relent and sigh because the excuses you try to convince yourself with aren’t really working at all.

your hands staying warm against the cold is just proof of the fact that you’ve always loved the cold, so there wasn’t really much use in trying to conjure up any more excuses.

you know that the room feels cold because as you think of the ring and the unfamiliar initials engraved inside, the home you’re in suddenly just feels like a house. only the second floor room of the flower shop somebody owned downstairs.

the photos on the wall doesn’t feel like it’s in place anymore. when you remember the gleam of gold against the box takahiro buried at the very bottom drawer underneath all his winter coats, your fingers itch to select a few frames on the wall and pack it in a suitcase. you think you hear him sigh another apology, and from his reflection that you catch on the surface of the window you see that he’s rubbing his face on his hands before eventually looking back up and looking at your profile.

you swallow and close your eyes, your eyes cast down and staring at the pattern of the wood on the floor.

twenty four hours ago hanamaki takahiro held you in his arms and said a joke that he’s said a thousand times, but despite that he felt like he was it. twenty four hours later—now—when you hear him utter another apology at the same time the ring you know isn’t for you flashes in your mind for the nth time that night, you feel like this is it.

when his hands settle on your shoulder, you feel his resolve that’s been trembling all the way to his fingertips.

he says your name once, his voice soft. when you give him silence in return, you don’t hear your name for a second time because you feel him move closer to you instead, his head on your shoulder and arms suddenly so tight around you.

there’s something about the sound of takahiro crying that has your heart breaking, but even as your hands itch to move from your lap and thread through his trembling ones, something in you stops you in your tracks.

“how did we get here?” you ask, but takahiro doesn’t answer and instead clutches onto you even tighter.

truth be told he knows that it’s not just the ring you found hidden at the very back of his drawer that caused this. it wasn’t the fact that he kept his marriage hidden from you for this long either.

he knows that when you refuse to look at him and instead focus on the photo of the two of you from two years ago: keys in hand and the a future hanging in your expressions in the form of smiles does he realize that you’re broken because of this.

it’s because he built a life with you. spoke promises of a future he intended on keeping but ultimately couldn’t keep because of an unfinished past. he knows you’re crying because you love him to the point of hanging photographs of the milestones the two of you have conquered on the walls in bright colors. the ring he promised putting on your finger, still absent on your hand that sits naked and cold on your lap.

his fingers twitch and he yearns to inch forward and thread them through his. it’s cold, takahiro thinks. he never liked the cold. your hands are always warm despite the cold, he remembers, so his fingers twitch again.

the sound of you sucking in a shaky breath reminds him of the boundary that’s between the two of you now. he knows he has no right to cross it; not after this, so takahiro stays still and moves back to keep his distance.

“i’m sorry,” he says, a little clearer and a lot more honest. at this point there really is nothing but honesty in his words, but there aren’t excuses for the past you found only buried under a pile instead of swept away either.

something in his heart breaks when you still refuse to look at him.

“i know that you’re sorry,” you answer after a while.

the tap of the water from the faucet hits the sink, and you find yourself thinking that even the smallest sounds in the room seem to echo. your heart isn’t pounding, but it beats in the way that leaves an ache instead of a flutter. the photo of the two of you stares back at you—in full color.

but when you look up and finally face takahiro, it’s like the world is stripped of hue and the room dips into greyer end of the spectrum.

he always had grey eyes too, you think. and in a way, it’s fitting. grey eyes in a grey turned world only meant that at least there was one thing constant and honest.

you see another apology swirling within them before he opens his mouth. when he chokes out another apology and his grey eyes mist with something that looks like droplets of tears, you finally break with him because the resolve in your heart feels like an ending.

“i fucking know, so stop saying sorry,” you cry. “i know.”

there’s nothing more you want to do but hold his face in between your hands, or let him press his forehead against yours when you’d cry, but you hold yourself back. the sounds of radiohead’s creep loops for the fifth time from your phone lying face down in the kitchen table.

“i don’t belong here,” is sung again and again. the music rises louder, and even if the speaker is muffled by the placemat and the sound is distorted because of the glasses around it, you hear it.

do i still belong here? you think.

“you’re so very special,” takahiro picks up and he exhales another sob because he’s never heard a statement as true as such. his fingers twitch and he knows he wants to reach out, but he keeps himself in check when he notices you shift away from him.

“it’s always going to be you,” he says and the truth you see in the grey eyes against the black and white world look like it’s the only truth in the moment.

when you stare back at him, you want to nod because you believe him. you know the sound of his truth from his lie—and this—takahiro staring at you, tears spilling down his cheeks and eyes so red and raw, you know that this is his truth.

“i’m sorry,” is his truth, but before you could soften the thrum in your heart you know that as much as this is his truth—the ring and a past hidden instead of ended is also a part of him.

a part of his whole truth.

“i know you are,” you answer, shaking your head. “but i just can’t stand you right now.”

“i wish i was special,” plays and the seconds before the drop you let yourself think about how these were just lyrics you sang along to a few minutes ago. takahiro across you was just the boyfriend who still had plans to finish before he proposed to you forty eight hours ago.

the kitchen was just a room you cooked meals in and not the four walls that are witness to the heartbreak and tragedy that is takahiro’s whole, unfiltered truth.

you close your eyes when he speaks again, and when you open them you do two things as you push yourself up and away from the chair. the first is that you tell him that you just need some time. and the second, as you round the corner and make your way to the bedroom, you make a conscious effort to not look at the vase of flowers he hasn’t changed in a little over two weeks now.

at the moment you just can’t stand to see the wilted roses.

[twomoonstwosuns]

graduation.

back to you [series masterlist]

previous part · next part

pairing: professor!poe dameron x reader

warning: a swear word or two

word count: 3.3k

a/n: ok I have not proofread this, I wanted to get it up before I was out of town for the weekend! I hope you enjoy this, I can’t BELIEVE we’re almost at the end. 

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

“Why are we standing outside the field house?”

“I’m watching them unload the truck. They’re hauling a thousand plus chairs into the football field for graduation tomorrow.”

You followed Jessika’s line of sight, watching as staff members moved rows of folded up chairs on dollies from the moving truck and into the back entrances of the football field. Jessika sighed heavily and you looked at her. 

“Reminiscing already? We haven’t even graduated yet.”

“I’m not reminiscing,” Jessika said, not taking her eyes off the movers as she sat down on the grass. “I’m wondering how anyone’s going to be able to understand anything that’s being said across an open football field.”

You snickered as you sat down next to her, watching as they finished unloading the first set of chairs. 

“What are you even doing here?” Jessika asked. 

“I was on my way back from dropping off a paper and I saw you.”

Jessika nodded, shifting so her legs were outstretched in front of her. 

“You ready for this?”

“Not at all. You?”

She shook her head. “Glad I’m not the only one.”

You bumped her shoulder against hers, a sign of support. 

Finals were done. Final papers turned in, exams taken, and anything you had checked out from the library as a resource was returned. Packing had already begun for Karé, who was beginning to move things into Snap’s apartment. The lease for your apartment was up in July, still a month and a half to figure things out. But while Karé knew what she was doing, you did not. 

You didn’t know what would happen when you moved out. Would you go home and live with your mom…almost an hour away from Poe? Or would you move in with him despite only being together for less than four months?

You didn’t know and it was making you anxious.

“Hey!”

Karé and Snap walked towards you hand-in-hand. 

“What’re you guys doing here?” Snap asked as they approached you, looking over towards the field where you were just looking. 

“Just…thinking about tomorrow,” you answered. “How’d you know we were here?”

“I used your location to find you.” Karé said. 

“Okay, creepy.”

“Well, it was better than calling you and saying ‘where are you, we need to tell you something’ because then you’d be worried.”

You glanced at Jessika, the both of you standing up. 

“Wait, what is going on?”

Snap sighed. “You remember that job I interviewed for at three weeks ago? I got it.”

“Snap! Congratulations!”

“They want to send me to their London office.”

Yours and Jessika’s smiles faltered. Snap looked at Karé and squeezed her hand. “We talked about it and we’ll be moving to London at the end of the summer.”

“Y—You’re moving?” Jessika asked quietly. Karé nodded.

“At the end of the summer. Which means we have three and a half months that we’re still here.”

You swallowed thickly and looked at Snap, who gave you a soft smile. 

“We’ll fly you guys out there anytime you want. They’re starting me at a high salary so I can afford it…you know, because I’m kind of a genius.”

You laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Yeah, for a guy who was late to pretty much every class, you did okay.”

Snap chuckled and shoved you back and you smiled sadly at him. 

“So?” Karé asked hesitantly. “What do you think?”

Jessika put her arm around Karé’s and put her head on her shoulder. “I think I miss you guys already.”

Karé held her arm out to you and you stood next to her, holding your own arm out for Snap. He stepped in, the four of you hugging each other like you’d never see each other again.

And so it hit a little harder when President Organa congratulated all of you and had you move your tassels to the other side of your caps. 

Black caps flew into the air as cheering filled the air. The bright sun shone down over a thousand new college graduates as they celebrated loudly and hugged their friends, their college careers now at an end. Friends and family members stood and applauded their loved ones, wiping tears away as they celebrated a major milestone. 

You hugged the friends that sat around you, the excitement and happiness eclipsing any other emotion you were feeling. Music started playing, a signal for the graduates to head out. You followed the line of black robes, looking amongst the stands for your Poe and your family, making eye contact with the latter and waving at them. The minute you got outside the football field, you thought up a meeting place for your friends to meet you for pictures and you grabbed your phone and texted both your family and Poe. 

I’ll meet you guys by the fountain in front of the field house for pictures!

“Y/N.”

It was the second time you’d heard his voice call your name at school in a matter of months, only this time it didn’t make you angry. When you turned and saw your father standing a few feet away from you with his hands in his pockets, you felt nervous.

“You made it,” you said, giving him a soft smile that he returned. 

“I did. Congratulations.”

“Thank you.” You took a step towards him, looking back at the direction in which you were just heading. “I’m, um…meeting everyone just over there if you want to follow me.”

“Actually, I was going to head out. I just wanted to see you before everyone else got here. We’re rebuilding our relationship and I want to take it slow, not put any pressure on you or make things more awkward.”

You nodded, the air around you becoming a little awkward. 

“The ceremony was nice,” he said, the small talk of strangers nearly making you laugh at how ridiculous it seemed. “Kind of slow, though.”

“Oh god, so slow.”

He chuckled, the sound warm, familiar, and full of memories of easier times. 

“So…how do you feel?”

You shrugged. “So far, if just feels like I’m going on summer break like I do every year. But I’m sure it’ll really hit me when I start working full time and when I don’t go back to school in the fall.”

“Do you have anything lined up yet?”

“Not yet, but I do have an interview on Thursday in Los Angeles.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great.”

A warm smile crossed your face and he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out an envelope.

“Um…this is for you.”

You took a few steps towards him, taking the envelope out of his hand and opening it. Inside was a check, the amount big enough to make your jaw fall to the floor. 

“I…I can’t take this…” You held the envelope and the check back out for him to take and he gently pushed it back towards you. 

“Not everyone gets a job right out of college, let alone one they love and want to make a career out of. You can pay off your student loans and the rest of it will make sure you’re comfortable doing whatever until you do find that job…so you can start your life.”

Your lip quivered and you looked up at him with tears in your eyes. “Dad…”

“I was going to give this to you on your wedding day, but with everything we went through this year, everything I’ve put you through…I felt this was the more appropriate time to give it to you.” You sniffled and he put his hand on your shoulder. “This isn’t a bribery to make you like me again and I know it can’t make up for the hell I put you through, but you deserve it. I am so, so proud of you and I love you very much. And I’m so sorry for hurting you.”

He was taken aback when you wrapped your arms around him but soon returned the hug, kissing the top of your head as a few tears trailed down your cheeks. You looked up at him and wiped a stray tear away. 

“Thank you.” 

He nodded and gave you a warm smile. Stepping back, you started to fan your face with your hand.

“Crap, I can’t remember if I put on waterproof mascara this morning.”

He chuckled, taking an opened pack of travel tissues out of his pocket. 

“I shed a few tears watching you walk across that stage,” he admitted as he took one of the tissues and dabbed under your eyes. “You did indeed put on waterproof mascara.”

You smiled as you wiped the remaining tears from your cheeks. He put the tissues back in his pocket and looked at his watch. 

“I should go, let you meet up with everyone. Coffee next week?”

“Friday morning ok?”

He nodded and you gave him another hug, kissing his cheek as you did. 

“I’m so glad you made it. And thank you so much for the gift. it’s…more than I think I deserve.” He put his hand on your cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

He kissed your forehead before leaving and you watched him until he was lost amongst the bustle of 

students before continuing to the designated meeting place. Tallie and your mom were already there, looking around for you until they finally spotted you.

“There you are!”

You walked into your mom’s embrace, followed by Tallie, who’s seven month pregnant belly was making it a little harder to hug. When you pulled back, your mom put both your hands on your cheeks. 

“My baby all grown up and done with college!” You giggled and rolled your eyes playfully.

“Where’s Chris?”

“I sent him ahead to start getting things set up at the park,” Tallie said. “So…where’s the boyfriend? I’m dying to meet him.”

“He’s probably saying congrats to other students or talking to other professors. He’s a popular teacher. I told him we’d meet up here and if he misses us then to just come to the park.”

“‘Popular’, huh?”

“Shut up, Tallie.”

“Girls…” Your mother’s warning tone made you shut your mouth. Looking at Tallie, you muttered an apology and fiddled with the envelope in your hand, forgetting for a moment what it was. 

“Can you hang onto this for me?” You held the envelope out to your mom and she glanced at it as she took it. “It’s a gift. From dad.”

She smiled softly and placed it in her purse. “So he made it.”

You nodded. 

“And? How do you feel?”

“I feel….okay.” You smiled softly at the memory of the interaction that had happened just moments ago. “It felt normal. I hugged him, which I know doesn’t seem like a huge thing…”

“It is though,” Tallie said. “You really struggled with this. It’s a good first step.…” 

She trailed off in the middle of her sentence and you furrowed your brow. 

“Tal?”

“Okay, don’t look now, but there is a very handsome man looking at you and walking towards us.”

You looked where she was looking behind you and smiled when you saw the one other person you were waiting for.

“Excuse me a sec…”

You ran to Poe as fast as your wedges would let you and you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly. He kissed you sweetly, knowing your family’s eyes were on you. You didn’t know if people around you were seeing you kiss your professor and gossiping. And quite frankly, you didn’t care if they were. You were too happy. Poe pecked your lips several times before setting you down.

“Congratulations, baby. Cum laude, huh?” he asked, smiling widely and tugging on the extra cord around your shoulders. You nodded bashfully. 

“Yeah…your girlfriend’s smart.” 

He chuckled. “Well, I knew that already. Guess I just didn’t know how smart.” 

You giggled as he flirted with you, the butterflies you felt in your belly the moment you met him still very alive. Tallie called your name and you glanced back at them, biting your lip nervously as they looked at you expectantly. 

“It’ll be fine, Y/N,” Poe said reassuringly, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. “Unless you want to wait.”

“No, I don’t. I’m just nervous….but let’s do it.”

You grabbed his hand and he gave it a reassuring squeeze as you walked over to your mom and sister. 

“Mom, Tallie, this is my boyfriend Poe.”

He smiled warmly and shook Tallie’s hand before your mom’s. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Nothing but good things.”

“Oh bull, I’m sure she’s bitched about me one time or another.”

You shot Tallie a look like ‘what the hell?’ and Poe chuckled. “Well, that’s what sister’s do, right? I’m an only child so I’m just assuming.”

Tallie smirked at him. “No, you’re right. I’m just giving her a hard time.”

You ran a hand down your face, your cheeks tinting red in embarrassment. The sound of your name made you turn your head and you saw Jessika, Karé, and Snap walking towards you. Your mother immediately opened her arms for your friends and hugged them tightly. 

“Can we do a few pictures here before we head over to the party?”

Your mother opened her mouth to answer but Tallie cut her off. 

“I’ll take them. Mom, you talk to Poe.”

You glared at her as Jessika pulled you over towards the fountain. As Tallie took pictures, you kept glancing at Poe talking to your mother and looking for any signs of disapproval. They smiled politely at each other and even laughed a little bit and the more they did it, the more you relaxed through your pictures. 

“So…” Tallie asked when she finished up taking pictures. “What are you and Poe doing now?”

You waved at your friends as they rejoined their families, promising to meet you at the park later for your party. “I don’t know.”

“Are you moving in with him?”

“Probably not. I don’t know.”

“What do you know?”

“I know I have a job interview in L.A. next week on the same day Poe has his job interview.”

“L.A. Really? Does Poe know?”

“Yes, he does.”

“What’re you going to do if you get it?”

“For god's sake Tallie, I don’t know. Enough with the interrogation.”

“I’m not interrogating, I’m just asking—“

“I literally just graduated, we don’t know what’s happening yet.”

“Girls…”

You sighed heavily and looked at your mom, who had interrupted her conversation with Poe to give you and Tallie a second warning tone. You weren’t interested in hearing a third one. Tallie’s phone pinged in her hand and she looked at it before looking at you and your mom. 

“It’s Chris, he says the food is just arriving, we should get going.”

“I’m gonna stop by my apartment and get different shoes but I’ll meet you guys there.” You looked at Poe, who took his car keys out of his pocket. “We’ll meet you there.”

Your mom kissed your head and waved at Poe before heading towards the parking lot with Tallie in tow. She shouted a very loud “no quickies!” back at you and you flipped her off as she disappeared towards the parking lot.  

“I’ll go grab my car…since you’re coming over to my apartment after the party anyway.”

You smiled and nodded, pecking Poe’s lips before heading in the direction of your apartment. It was a short distance away and you took the time to look around as you walked.

You thought about your first few days on campus, how nervous you were that you weren’t going to make any friends and make all the wrong decisions that would get you kicked out. You remembered the first party you went to, how you got so embarrassingly drunk so quickly that you were the laughing stock of your dorm hall for weeks. You remembered staying up until five in the morning with Karé and Jessika listening to Karé talk about her first date with Snap…and now they were moving to the other side of the world. 

So much growing up had been done in four short years and you regretted making fun of Jessika for reminiscing the day before. It was exactly what you were doing now. 

You got to your apartment and quickly found your sandals, changing out of them and grabbing your sunglasses. Poe was already outside your building when you got back down to the entrance. 

“Beebs!” You exclaimed as you got to the car. You had seen the little dog’s head through the back window but thought maybe it was a reflection of something else. 

“I figured he could run around while we enjoy the party, get him some fresh air and room to run around. He’s good off the leash.”

“Tallie is going to love that, she loves dogs.”

He smiled as he put the car in drive, but you put your hand on his.

“Wait…can we just sit a minute?” Poe nodded and put the car back in park as he looked over at you.

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just…the last half hour was so rushed with meeting up with people and pictures and I just want to relax a minute.”

“Just not too long though, otherwise your sister will make jokes about us being late.”

You giggled as you leaned back against the seat, closing your eyes and sitting still for a minute. Poe put his hand on your knee, rubbing it so slowly you’d thought you’d fall asleep. When you finally re-opened your eyes, you gave him a soft smile and nodded. 

“Okay. I’m good now.”

He gave your knee an affectionate pat and pulled away from the curb in the direction of the park.

“I want to ask you something.” Poe glanced at you and raised his eyebrows and you turn to look at him. “So, I’m graduated now…”

He chuckled. “Yes you are, that’s why we sat through that three hour long ceremony with the same speeches I’ve heard four years in a row now.”

“Oh ha ha,” you said with a smile. “Anyway, graduating means I won’t be going to school here or living on campus…I guess what I’m asking is what we’re going to do…”

“Well…I’ll make it really simple.” You swallowed hard and he stopped at a red light and looked at you. “I love you and whatever happens with you finding a job or moving back home, I still want to be with you. We’ll find a way to make it work, we’ve done it all year long.”

Sitting back in your seat, you gave him a small smile. 

“Well, good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Poe shot you a humored smile, his eyes lighting up.

“When do you fly to L.A.?”

“I leave very early Thursday morning, interview at 10a.m, then lunch with Finn, and then I fly home. I should be home like 8ish…if you want me to come over.”

“I always want you to come over.”

“Then I’ll come over and you can tell me all about your interview and I’ll tell you about mine.”

He pulled up to the park where you could see people gathered just a few hundred feet away. The trees were full and bright green, a stark contrast to the last time you had been at the park. The abandoned ice rink was a few feet away, the middle of it brown and unappealing to the eye from the mud and puddles that took up most of the space. 

“Think I can convince you to go ice skating again this winter?” Poe smirked as he eyed the empty ice rink. 

“Only if you catch me when I fall.” You sputtered out a laugh as you internally cringed. “I’m sorry, that sounded so cliché, like ‘don’t chase me unless you’re ready to catch me’ nonsense. But seriously, do not let me fall on my ass.”

“You watch too many romantic comedies.” You nodded because he wasn’t wrong. The cheesy plots and pick up lines were comforting to you. “Besides, I thought I told you I liked the bruises on your ass.”

You shoved his shoulder and he laughed as he caught your arm and kissed you. You giggled against his lips. 

“Shut up, lets go to the party.”

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[damonsvftie]

𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝟏

Draco Malfoy x Reader

MASTERLIST☁️

Summary: y/n celebrates her one year anniversary with Draco as well as remembering how they even ended up where they are.

Note: This is based of the song “Only 1 by Ariana Grande’ I highly recommend you listen to it it’s such a good song! ALSO THIS IS 1.6K words

‘Lookin' in your eyes, makes me wonder how

I got so much time, with you and there's more around

I know all the competition that's after you

So I get to thinking, is this to good to be true’

It had been a year since me and Draco have been dating and today marked our 1 year anniversary (we finally reached that milestone!). The whole day I was too excited to focus on any of my lessons as I sat in my seat contemplating how on earth I managed to finesse such a fine man who treated me like an absolute princess. Ever since the Slytherin Prince set foot in school, pretty much every girl was practically drooling over him and they still do! But now that I was with him it felt as if it was too good to be real. Almost as if it were too good to be true.

‘That we're living

In a fairytale no malice in our lives

Baby oh, it's hard to believe

All the love you have inside is only mine

That's how I know’

There would be days in which things seemed not so realistic as if I were living a fairytale and as if the whole thing was my imagination or even a dream. So far things were running smoothly between the two of us. Nothing to be worried about as we lived our fairytale themed lives. We were and still are inseparable.

‘I can't, be your, only one

No I can't, be your only one

'Cause you look twice as good as anyone I ever met

And your love is three time better, how could anyone forget

No I can't’

I remember the first time he asked me out I threw my head back, hysterically laughing at him as if he cracked some hilarious joke. “Your kidding right?” I asked seriously once I stopped laughing.

“No, im not,” he huffed looking annoyed.

“For Merlin’s sake Draco! Stop it! Your only asking me out so you can embarrass me in front of everyone,” I replied back agitated, clenching my fists by my side.

“Why would you say that?” He asked looking slightly hurt.

“I can’t be your only one! I mean look at you and pansy-,” I muttered while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Y/n, she’s just a friend,” he explained calmly while he took a step further towards me, his face inches away from mine.

“Draco I’m gonna need you to stop right there,” I backed away from him as I crossed my arms in frustration. The past month, Draco was trying to flirt with me and I found it awfully unusual as he despised all muggle borns(which would include me since i wasn’t a half blood let alone a pure one).

However, I secretly liked it. I managed to always put up a front as if I didn’t care about him In any way but his love was just three times better than any one else’s and let’s not forget that he looked twice as good as anyone I’d ever met.

I remember hesitating to take up the offer but in the end I eventually gave in. I already knew the next day he would dump me and make me look like a fool in front of everyone however that never happened.

‘As I'm layin' down, with you every night

It still gets to me, that you remain by my side

I ain't saying that I'm not deservin' of you

But I was dreaming, bigger than I ever knew’

Time progressed and me and Draco were still together. I honestly thought that he was just playing with me but he was dead serious about taking things to the next level.

One day we went stargazing, we laid on the freshly mown grass as we looked up examining the beautiful balls of fire that hung in the blanket of darkness.

Everything felt so unreal, I mean I found it hard to believe that he was so pensive about the whole ‘I’m dating you and your dating me’ thing. As I laid beside him it got to me how he was still by my side after 6 months of putting up with my crap. I mean hadn’t he like given up already?

In the last 6 months, I felt as if I had really gotten to see the real, vulnerable side of him and I was elated to say that he was everything I had ever dreamed of in a boyfriend. He was so caring, respectful (I know right? Draco Malfoy and respect) and overall he was the biggest softie I had ever met.

I wished for living

‘In a fairytale no malice and no lies

Baby oh, it's hard to believe

All the love you have to give inside is only mine

That's how I know’

In the next 3 months, doubt started to take over my mind since Draco was beginning to spend most of him time with Pansy Parkinson. She was always with him wherever he went.

—

“Where are you going?” Asked Draco as he held my wrist Loosely.

“I have homework to do, I’ll catch up with you later,” I replied as I dipped down to kiss him on the cheek then proceeding to walk out the hall.

Obviously I lied about doing my work. I left because I couldn’t bear how Parkinson kept clinging onto him whenever I was present and It made it hard to believe that all the love he had to give was only mine. It made me jealous. I envied her.

‘I can't, be your, only one

No I can't, be your only one

'Cause you look twice as good as anyone I ever met

And your love is three time better, how could anyone forget

No I cant’

That rest of that day I couldn’t help but feel miserable about my self. He always seemed to reciprocate Pansy and I seriously loathed it. I was planning on calling things off with him and I was determined to do so.

—

“Are you trying to break up with me?” He asked, his face distorted.

“If you want to put it that way..then yes,” I mumbled while I fiddled with my fingers.

“Why?” That was the only word that came out of his mouth as he leaned himself against the wall, avoiding to meet my gaze.

“Draco.. I just... I feel as if you and Pansy are meant for eachother,” I whispered, exhaling deeply right after.

“Y/n what makes you say that? I don’t belong with her I belong with you,” he responded softly as he pulled me in for a tight hug. I inhaled his sweet scent as we stood their for what seemed like hours, cradling one another.

—

And here we are now. It’s been one long year since we’ve been together and I couldn’t have been more fortunate. Once all of my classes had ended, I ran to my dorm wrapping up the gift I had bought him.

I tried my best to make my wrapping skills look neat as possible. Once I was finished with that I waited impatiently until it was way after curfew since me and Draco planned on meeting at the Astronomy tower.

—

Tiptoeing down the vacant corridors, I managed to sneak all the way to the top of the tower.

A tall figure with platinum blonde hair was leaning against the railings looking up at the stars above.

“Happy one year anniversary babe,” I whispered from behind causing him to jolt up and turn around.

“You scared the life out of me,” he muttered, letting out a soft giggle that warmed my heart.

Making my way towards him he caressed me lifting me off my feet.

“I got you something,” he said as he pulled away, his hands behind his back.

“You did?” I gasped excited. “You didn’t have to-,” I added meaningfully.

“I hope you like it,”. He pulled out the small box that was behind his back as a small smile plastered across his face, his eyes glimmering in the moonlight.

“Go on, open it,” he insisted as I took the small box wrapped up in black paper.

As I slowly unwrapped the gift, I opened the box revealing a beautiful emerald green gemstone attached to a thing golden chain. It was absolutely mesmerising.

“Well do you like it?” He asked curiously while scratching the back of his head.

“Draco.. I love it!” I gasped giving him the tightest hug ever. He wrapped his arms around me as I snuggled into his chest.

Withdrawing from him I gave him his present that was horribly wrapped.

“I’m sorry- you know.. for the wrapping paper,” giving him a grin as I played with the hem of my robe.

As his fingers unwrapped the gift, he opened the small box that contained a ring with a thick black band with the snake wrapped around.

“Do you like it?” I asked my heart beating fast.

“It’s perfect,” he gasped as he slipped the ring onto his pale finger.

“Here let me help you with that,” he persisted while he took the necklace between his fingers. I turned myself around so my back was now facing him. His fingers slowly grazed my neck causing me to shudder. He then gently moved my hair to the side as he put the necklace around my neck securing it from the back. His body was pressed against mine as I felt his warm breath fan across my neck, causing me to flinch. His hands wrapped themselves around my waist before he pressed a soft kiss to my neck making my head fall back onto his shoulder.

Letting out a small giggle, he turned me around before pressing his lips against mine. Deepening the luscious kiss even more, I pulled on the roots of his hair softly as his tongue softly swiped my lower lip causing me to jolt at the sudden action.

My cheeks flustered as he chucked pulling me close, “cheers to one year,” he muttered before pecking my lips once more.

‘Only one

Be your only

Only one’

He really was my only one.