#but then The Big Sad happened and i blinked and it's almost july

[fivewholeminutes]

See? He grew them out.

[mlmmetalhead]

Sleepover

Martin Blackwood x Male reader

CW: canon typical mention of worms.

Summary: Martin is a little nervous with the whole "hunted by a supernatural worm lady" thing. Luckily, the friend he made from his work in the archives could be able to help him relax a bit!

"You don't have to, you know?" - Martin tried to reason with his friend nervously, watching as he threw his sleep bag onto the floor.

"I know! But I want to," - Y/n gives him a smile in response, - "you said you were creeped out by the archives at night, which I actually don't blame you for, so I'm making sure you're not staying alone!"

Martin smiles in response, as he lowers himself onto the unstable bed, looking as his friend tossed out more and more stuff from inside of the backpack he brought. A blanket, another one, his laptop, some snacks, spare clothes, all of them made a sound landing on each other. Martin felt his thoughts trail elsewhere, before hearing snapping fingers in front of his face.

"Earth to Martin? What are you thinking about with that pretty mind of yours?" - L/n grinned right in front of the guy's face.

Martin felt his cheeks heat up, as he awkwardly chuckled in response, looking away.

"Oh, nothing! You don't have to worry about it."

Y/n's expression became less cheerful, as he lowered himself onto his knees, taking Martin's palms in his own. They were warm, and a little sweaty, which the dark haired guy didn't seem to mind as he carefully caressed his friend's knuckles.

"No, I really want to know. What's keeping you from having fun with me tonight, hm? I won't tell anyone, scout's honor." 

Martin sighed, turning his gaze back to the green orbs, which almost seemed to stop blinking, deeply focusing on him. How could he think and find the right words when a really pretty guy was staring at him like this?

"It's... Uh... I- I'm scared, Y/n," - he finally found the power to try and explain himself, - "I'm really scared, because like... What if... What if the worms get me? Or you! Or John, or Tim, or Sasha, or... Point is, I don't want to feel like I'm unsafe in my own workplace. I don't like feeling constantly anxious about there being a possibility of something just... Happening to you! Or to me, or to John, or Tim or Sasha... I know I sound silly, like... It's just worms! Nothing to worry about, right? I mean they're pretty disgusting, but it's not deadly! At least... At least I thought so..."

Y/n brought his lips down and carefully pressed a gentle, almost unnoticeable kiss upon Martin's slightly shaking palms. Noticing the spark in the other's eyes and the pink dust on his cheeks, he chuckled and did it again.

"It's going to be okay, Martin. We got enough CO2, right? And I saw you crush some worms today! You're so brave, Martin! I promise we're going to be okay. You're going to protect us, right? But if you're feeling afraid, I will always protect you." And at the very end of his speech, he kissed Blackwood's palms again. In a sudden rush of courage, Martin caught the other's hand and brought it to his lips.

"Yes... yes, you're right. I will protect you."

L/n smiled, standing up to meet Martin's eyes and gently grabbing him by his slightly warm cheeks.

"I'm always here for you, Martin. Y'know, you don't have to bottle it all up... You always make a big deal of helping others, but who will help you?"

The man sighed, a smile with a trace of sadness painting itself on his lips. He looked away, feeling his heartbeat fasten with the newfound feeling of the other man's hands on his face.

"Yeah... Yeah, I know. Thank you, Y/n."

A comfortable silence enveloped the room, as L/n removed his hands from the archival assistant's burning cheeks, moving them down to his shoulders. And in an instant, much to Martin's quickly spreading horror, Y/n lifted himself and pressed his lips to the other guy's forehead. Oh if only he knew how crazy Blackwood was going over the gesture. Although the quickly reddening face and the wide eyes left little to the imagination.

"Sorry, are you alright? Maybe I shouldn't have done that?" - L/n chuckled, his fingers reassuringly running through the other man's fluffy hair.

"N-no! No, it's... It's okay.." - Martin rubbed the back of his neck, which was just as hot, trying to hold the plea for more tingling on his lips desperately. In moments like this, he always thought, maybe Y/n knew. Was he that obvious with his crush on the guy, and that was what he was being teased for?

"If you ever feel uncomfortable with the contact, tell me, okay? I understand I can be too much sometimes." - L/n smiled with guilt sprinkled on his face.

"No, I mean it, it's okay!" - Martin's hands gently grasped Y/n's shoulders, trying not to let the heat in his chest take the best of him. "Please keep your hands on me" - he almost allowed himself to mutter, before biting his lip for good. "I don't mind the contact, it's nice to know someone likes me enough to touch me, it's just... Unusual, is all." Blackwood blinked, not sure how the guy would react.

The response came quickly: with Y/n chuckling, and giving the poor man an another mini heart attack, as he wrapped his hands around his shoulders, relaxing around the other's body. Martin froze, feeling his heart beating against his ribcage. Slowly, he lifted his own hands and placed them around L/n's body, trying to relax a bit. When was the last time he was hugged? Martin doesn't really remember, nor does he want to think about that, as a sense of warmth spread around his body, and he could've sworn he felt Y/n's heartbeat, too. Although, might've been wishful thinking. Even if it felt like hours before they let go, Martin still longed for more, even if he didn't dare to state it, instead just smiling bashfully at the other man as L/n sat on the bed next to him, already having the laptop out.

"I was thinking we'd watch something, how does that sound? Any suggestions? Only one rule: no sad movies, I don't want to get emotional today, we already have enough to worry about."

"W-what about horror?"

"I don't know... Unless you're brave enough to spend a night in the archives after a scary movie!"

Martin chuckled, shifting to be closer to Y/n, looking at the screen of his laptop, scanning through the movie options. With the warmth of the other man by his side, he finally decided to murmur something, even if it was barely audible.

"I won't be scared as long as you're here."

[ralph-wreckin-reilly]

July 2024 Task: Postcards from You! Make (or find) a graphic that represents a postcard your character has sent! Write the letter that they’re sending.

November 15, 2014

After his near run-in with death, he figured it was finally time to contact his family.

He sat in the lounge of the hostel he'd managed to find after stumbling off the mountain. "Lounge" was probably too fancy of a word, it was just the dingy common area where weary travelers and bright-eyed backpackers alike convened.

A fire was crackling against the back wall and Ralph sat himself down in front of it, turning over the measly postcard in his hands. It was hardly any bigger than his palms, and he could already tell he was bending it just by holding it. Not that it really mattered what crummy condition it found itself anyway.

It was touristy enough, considering it was the only one he could find in English. The various language barriers he'd encountered on his journey thus far were starting to fade into the background, much like the conversations floating around the room, none of which he understood. At least it wouldn't distract him from his writing.

He gripped the fragile plastic of the pen, staring at the empty page down below him. When he'd embarked on this journey, he promised himself he would never see or speak to his family again.

But in those last moments, when he found the snow piling up all around them, he thought of them. As the nice young woman tended to him, warning that his condition could get worse, he'd wondered if they would even care. If they worried about him at all.

All he had to do was start.

He stared at the paper.

'Hey' He wrote. Okay, that was a start! He should probably finish off the greeting. 'Mom and Dad'? Well no, because he wanted to write his brother too. 'Family'? Sounded a little formal.

'Hey guys,' he finally decided on. Alright, good, now just keep going.

'Travel has been good. Seen a lot of cool things.' He wrote, mindful that there was only so much space and his handwriting was big and sloppy.

'Hope things in Swynlake are good.' He added before pausing.

'Sad I'll be missing the tree lighting this year.' He stopped again and frowned before scribbling it out. They didn't need to know that. Why did he even write it? He was glad that he left home. One year, at the tree lighting, he'd tried to place an ornament back on that had fallen off and nearly bowled the entire tree over, shattering dozens of ornaments and nearly ruining the festivities. He didn't want to go back.

As thoughts and memories lingered, he realized he had stopped writing. He should probably get to the point.

'I almost died.' He wrote, staring at the words that weighed heavily on his chest. He tried to imagine his parent's reactions to reading that? Would they be horrified? Angry? Completely uncaring?

'I was following a rumor of the giants but got trapped in a blizzard." He explained. He could hear their exasperated groans in the back of their head, chiding him for being stupid and making reckless decisions like he always did.

'I wouldn't have had to do it if Dad just owned up and told me where they were. Instead of pretending it didn't happen.' He scrawled, as if arguing with the version of his family that had made permanent residence in his thoughts.

'But it did happen. Everyone can see it happened! You could have just admitted it and I would've left and found people that actually care about me but no. Here I am in icy nowhere with no idea what to do next! But you still won because I'm out here and you're over there enjoying your big lit up tree without me.'

He was scribbling frantically now. 'What would have happened if I died? Would you come and get my body? Would I get a funeral? Would you even care?'

His frenzy was broken with the sound of a snap as the plastic pen broke in half, having gripped it too tight. For a moment, he just sat there frozen, the familiar rage flowing through his body, warming him more than this hearth ever could. Then he blinked a few times, looking over everything.

In one hand were the two halves of the pen, with ink now spilling out in between his fingers. In the other was a bent and curved card, scribbled entirely with the ramblings of a mad man. It went from corner to corner, top to bottom, having gone over the separating line, the lines for the address, and where the stamp was supposed to go.

The fire in his belly surged and he threw them both into the fire, angrily wiping off the ink onto his pants, uncaring for the stain it left. For a minute he just watched the burning, letting his anger feed on the destruction for satisfaction.

But soon the air filled with a fowl smell and white smoke began to trickle out from where the melting plastic of the pen was beginning to spark. The scent drew the attention of the guests in the kitchen, and he didn't need to understand the language to hear the panic in people's voices.

Drawing the blanket around himself, he stood up and hurried away back to the bunk room with his back hunched and his head bent. Whatever was going on back there, someone else would deal with it. That tended to be the case with most of the disasters Ralph caused.

As he crawled into his makeshift bed of multiple sleeping bags (no bunk nor anything manufactured could fit his size), he drew up the blanket over his head and ignored the frantic calls in the other room.

Well, he did one thing right. At least he would be keeping his promise.

[yuujispinkhair]

Summer Paradise with Yuu (Chapter 4 - Last chapter)

Back to Summer Paradise with you

When you agreed to join your friends on a spontaneous summer vacation, you didn't expect to a) get pulled out of the ocean by some random guy who thinks you are drowning and b) that this guy is hotter than the summer sun.

Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female) Genre: fluff, smut, Lifeguard AU but not really lol Word Count: 3.8k Warnings: 18+, mentions of phone sex, mentions of sex in general, a bit of angst, but I promise it will have a fluffy ending :) All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

Chapter 1: I swear you put the sun up in my sky, so hot it’s like the middle of July Chapter 2: All your kisses taste like Malibu Chapter 3: Touch me like a summer night, you feel like a holiday Chapter 4: Back to Summer Paradise with you

Chapter 4

Saying goodbye to a summer flirt is always a sad thing. It's like waking up from a dream, realizing you have to leave this alternate, better version of your life behind and face reality again. This perfect life was only possible in those few days you had far away from your usual obligations.

It's hard to part ways with the person who was by your side during those dream-like days. Someone who made you feel happy and carefree and let you be the person you want to be instead of the one you have to be in everyday life.

But it's even harder when the person you have to say goodbye to isn't just someone you consider a summer fling but someone who might be the love of your life.

Big tears are streaming down your cheeks as you cling to Yuuji in the airport's departure hall. 

Yuuji's arms tighten around you, and he pulls you against him, letting you feel the comfort of his strong body once again. And you are grateful for it. You bury your face in his chest, crying unashamedly, letting your tears soak his yellow shirt, sniffling and sobbing, inhaling his scent deeply, wanting to keep it with you forever.

"Y...Yuuji...I..."

You choke on your tears, unable to even finish your sentence. But what could you even say? Tell him you love him, over and over again? That you don't want to leave him? That you want him to just come with you and stay with you forever? Or that you want him to drag you along and bring you to Tokyo?

You know, all those scenarios are just stupid little fantasies. None of it can happen. The time for dreams is over.

You feel yourself spiraling into hopelessness, but then Yuuji's strong hands stroke your back soothingly, and you feel him take a deep breath before a soft kiss is pressed to your forehead.

Yuuji's low voice is sweet and gentle as if talking to a scared animal.

"I'll call you every day, baby, I promise you."

You pull away just enough to look up at him and nod lightly while fresh tears well up in your eyes.

"I'll miss you so much, Yuu."

Something flickers over his face, something you have never seen on that usually so happy face before. Pain. Yuuji blinks rapidly, his long lashes fluttering before his warm honey eyes spill over with tears too.

He even looks pretty when he cries. You think dazedly as you gulp hard and feel your lips tremble uncontrollably.

Yuuji sniffles a bit, but he still tries to smile at you through his tears.

"I'll miss you too, sweetie. Fuck...I already miss you right now. But we'll make this work. I swear."

He leans down to capture your lips in an almost desperate kiss. You can taste the salt of your tears in the kiss. But the way Yuuji's soft lips move against yours is tender and warm and so familiar. You sob into Yuuji's mouth, your hands twisting in the front of his shirt as you kiss him back eagerly.

The kiss is full of love, but it's also the saddest kiss you have ever shared with anyone.

It's a kiss goodbye.

It's a kiss that breaks your heart because you know the moment you stop kissing will be when you and Yuuji have to part ways and catch your flights to two different destinations.

Pulling away from this kiss will mean your blissful Summer Paradise will slip through your fingers like the fine warm sand at the turtle beach did.

And so you can't help but cry even harder when the moment finally arrives when your and Yuuji's lips slowly part.

But his strong arms wrap around you in a loving embrace, pulling you one last time against your summer boy's warm body. And his voice sounds confident and steady when he talks to you, all sweet and full of love, trying so hard not to cry so he can comfort you.

"This isn't a real goodbye, ok? We will talk every day, and we will see each other again. I love you. I'm not just some guy you met at the beach and will never see again. I'm your boyfriend! Always remember that, ok? Please, don't cry, cutie."

He is so sweet, so strong just for you. Wiping away his own tears with a tan hand, just to make you feel better. Your heart aches with all the love you feel for him. Another sob escapes your mouth, but firm fingers cup your chin and gently make you look up at your boyfriend.

Your gaze lands on those pretty golden eyes and the sunshine smile you love so much.

Despite him telling you not to cry, some fresh tears are running down Yuuji's face too, but he smiles at you anyways.

"You have my hoodie, right, baby? Wear it on the plane when it gets cold. And at home too, when you want to feel close to me. I promise I'll call you every day and send you voice messages anytime I get a random thought I want to share with you. I have a lot of random thoughts, so be prepared for lots of spam! And please send me stuff too! Let me know when you see something funny or cute and when you hear a song you like or discover a new show! And call me to tell me about your day. Call me a lot, please... Call me when you have to walk home alone, so I can be with you and watch over you. I'm still your personal lifeguard, right? So please help me do my job and always call me when you need me. I'm always there for you, no matter what time it is for me."

A sad chuckle escapes your lips at his words. You smile at him through the new tears that spill from your eyes.

"Y...Yuuji...you're so... you're so sweet."

Yuuji smiles at you, brighter than the sun, and then presses one last kiss to your lips. It's over too fast, just a quick peck, but firm and full of tenderness.

And then he slowly pulls away from you, straightening up and taking a step back.

"Now, go join your friends."

Yuuji makes a vague gesture with his hand in the direction behind you, where you know your friends are waiting for you, both clutching paper tissues to their chests so they can comfort you the moment you come over.

But before you can leave, Yuuji adds softly:

"And, baby?"

Big honey eyes look at you with a serious expression in them.

"Yes?"

"Yesterday night, I told you I want to spend the rest of my sunsets with you. I want you to know that I meant it. I want us to last."

Your heart clenches painfully at his words, another sob escaping your trembling lips. You love him so much. It feels impossible to turn around and leave him. But you nod and try to brush the tears away with the back of your hand, trying your best to smile encouragingly at Yuuji,

"I want that too, Yuu."

The serious expression in his eyes gets replaced by a happy twinkle and the sheen of fresh tears. His big sunshine smile is back, and he beams at you, lifting a large tan hand in a wave,

"That's what I wanted to hear! Now hurry up, cutie! I love you."

"I love you too. Goodbye, Y...Yuuji."

He laughs softly at that and shakes his head,

"Uh uh, I won't say goodbye. Because this isn't goodbye. I'll talk to you tonight! Have a safe flight, baby! And always remember: You have me forever. Itadori Yuuji, always at your service!"

He makes a sound that is a mix between a sob and his loud happy laugh as he does his stupid and cute mock salute once again, making you cry and laugh at the same time.

He is grinning at you until you have to turn around to walk towards your friends. You cast one last look over your shoulder once you reach your terminal, meeting Yuuji's gaze one last time. Pretty golden eyes with so much love and warmth in them.

They are the last thing you see before your friends have to tug you around a corner so you won't miss your flight.

Four weeks later:

You sigh contentedly as you lean against the window frame, snuggled comfortably into Yuuji's soft yellow hoodie, and let your gaze travel over the sky. It's almost time.

You open the camera app on your phone, smiling softly as the movement makes the bracelet of seashells and stones on your wrist tinkle. A memory flashes before your inner eye. A beautiful white beach, soft waves, a bright blue sky, and pastel pink hair, happy laughter, that sweet voice, and pretty sunshine smile.

You lift the phone and press record.

The next few minutes pass in peaceful silence as you watch through your phone screen how the setting sun paints the sky pastel pink, just like Yuuji's hair, and then gradually bright neon orange on its way down.

You stop recording when the huge ball of fire finally disappears at the horizon.

You and Yuuji kept your promise to watch the sunset together. Not every night because that proved impossible with the time difference and your busy schedules. But you made a pact to film the sunsets in your hometowns once a week and then watch them together every Friday. Because Friday is date-time.

It's one of the things that have become your new normal since you returned from your vacation. Just like the daily video calls, the thousands of text and voice messages. The ever-growing collection of sexy selfies and videos your boyfriend sends you. The trips to the post office to dispatch and pick up the gift packages the two of you send each other. The excitement you feel anytime you open your mailbox and a handwritten love letter in a pink envelope tumbles into your hands.

Being in a long-distance relationship with Yuuji works surprisingly well. Because Yuuji is reliable. He keeps his promises. He always texts you. He always calls when he says he would. And you do the same.

Hearing his sweet low voice makes your heart beat fast every single time. Seeing his sunshine smile and those golden eyes during a video call leaves you smiling so much that your face hurts. Reading and hearing his sweet messages manages to make you feel so warm all over, so loved. Opening the thirst traps, Yuuji sends you from the gym or out of his bed, causes you to clench your thighs. Watching his naughty videos with the sound on blesses you with many sensual moments.

But there is also always this terrible feeling of something missing. This longing that can turn into such an intense craving from one second to the next that it's almost unbearable.

It's not enough to just see that pretty smile. You want to kiss it off his lips. It's not enough to watch and hear Yuuji cum with your name falling from his lips. You want to be there under him, feel him on top of you, feel him inside you. You want to kiss him and touch him and feel the warmth of his heavy body, taste his lips again, feel the softness of his hair and the firmness of his muscles flexing under your fingers.

You crave him. You miss him. You are filled with such an intense longing that it manifests in physical pain.

Sometimes you get sad when you see a happy couple walking down the street holding hands. Sometimes your heart aches when you see an ice cream commercial. Sometimes it just takes a certain shade of pink to make your eyes fill with tears.

"I miss you, Yuuji."

"I miss you too, cutie. But we'll see each other soon!"

His voice is sweet, low and a bit muffled because he's lying on his tummy on his bed and hugging the pillow you sent him to his chest, resting his chin atop it while he talks with you. He looks so cute. His hair is still ruffled from sleeping, and his golden eyes blink a bit sleepily at you through the phone screen.

Your chest constricts painfully. You would give anything to be with Yuuji right now and kiss the sleepiness away, cuddle him and run your fingers through that soft pink hair.

But you know you still have to wait until Christmas. Yuuji insisted that you have to come see him for a romantic Christmas Eve date. It's marked in your calendar with a big red heart, and you are counting the days impatiently. But it's still such a long time.

You sigh and look at him with a pout on your face.

"But it's still so long! Three months isn't soon to me at all, Yuu..."

"But next Friday is."

You blink at him in confusion, and your heart skips a beat at the implication of what this could mean. But you're afraid to get your hopes up just yet, and ask tentatively:

"Um, what?"

Yuuji's mouth lifts in a cheeky grin. Suddenly he doesn't look tired at all anymore. Instead, a mischievous expression spreads over his handsome face, making your pulse flutter wildly.

Your boyfriend blinks at you, scratching his pink hair, and shrugs,

"Oh, did I forget to tell you? We have a date next Friday! You and I, 8:00 pm, Shibuya, the Pink Tiger karaoke bar."

"Yuuji..how...what?"

His answer is his typical loud laugh, sounding so happy and without a single worry in the world.

"Check your e-mails, cutie! I just sent you something."

You scramble over to your desk, opening your laptop in a hurry, navigating to your e-mails with sweaty fingers. And yes, sure, there it is!

A new e-mail from baywatch-yuuji@gmail.com. You still chuckle anytime you see the name. Your heart is beating to your throat as you open the e-mail.

Hey sweetie,

As much as I love watching sunsets with you over the phone, I love it even more, when I can hold you while we watch them together. So, how about I show you the sunset over Tokyo live and in color, featuring your favorite lifeguard and not only his live commentary but also his hugs and kisses?!

Sounds like an offer you can't turn down? Then please open the attachment and come visit me :)

I love you!

xoxo, Yuuji

- Personal lifeguard and boyfriend - 

P.S.: I challenge you to a Karaoke battle of the biggest summer hits of all time! The winner gets a mouth-to-mouth CPR!!

You can't tell if the tears running down your cheeks are from laughing so hard or from the sheer amount of happiness pumping through your body right now. But you blink against the tears blurring your view, and open the attachment to see a plane ticket to Tokyo.

Yuuji's voice sounds amused, and he grins proudly at you when you pick up the phone again.

"Sooooo, are you gonna accept the challenge, or what?"

"You are such an idiot! Such a cute idiot. Yes, of course, I accept! I hope your CPR skills have improved."

"How could they? You are the only one I would want to practice them on! And what makes you think you will win?? You are talking to the three-time in a row champion of the annual Pink Tiger Karaoke Contest!"

Both of you laugh loudly and continue to tease each other for a while longer, both so excited and happy that you can't stop babbling on and on about your Karaoke date night and Yuuji's CPR skills and wannabe lifeguards and karaoke champions.

But then you sigh softly, a happy smile on your face as you breathe into the phone:

"Thank you, baby. This is the best surprise ever. I'm so happy."

"I am too, baby. Only seven more days until we can watch the sunset together again. And we'll repeat that on Christmas. And after that, I'll come to visit you and watch your sunset! And we'll just keep doing that until we can watch every sunset together."

The way he says it leaves no room for doubt. He says it like a fact, like the irrevocable truth. And it makes you think that things will be ok.

In a week, you'll get back to your Summer Paradise with Yuu. Because no matter what time of year it is, it will always be paradise with him, and the two of you will make sure to keep that summer romance alive and turn it into a lifelong love story.

You are so glad you went on that summer vacation and that you made a fool out of yourself by falling into the ocean. You would happily do it again.

Your only regret is that you lost that Flip Flop that caused this whole accident. Because that lovely shoe lead to you meeting the love of your life. It would have made for a fun keepsake.

Happy laughter bubbles out of your mouth at the memory of your little detour into the ocean and the chaotic rescue mission that followed. Sometimes, the most embarrassing thing can actually be the best thing that ever happened to you.

And now you'll always carry this memory with you. And the feeling you had during this summer will stay with you forever because Yuuji always feels like a holiday.

Ten years later:

"Open the gift, baby!! I know you will love it!"

Yuuji shoves another birthday gift into your hands, making you chuckle in affectionate amusement. Your husband is always the one who is the most excited at birthdays. Not even your three-year-old can beat him at that.

You watch your two pink-haired boys with a tender smile on your face. Jin is currently climbing onto Yuuji's lap to get a better look at the package in your hands, almost toppling over because he is so curious. But Yuuji's strong hands catch him safely, and he laughs that loud contagious laugh,

"Hey, careful, sweetie! I swear you inherited that talent for falling off things from your mommy. But luckily, you have me as your personal lifeguard, so it's fine!"

Jin scrunches his nose at that,

"Why do you always say you are a lifeguard, daddy? You don't even wear swimming clothes at work."

Both you and Yuuji burst out laughing, sharing an amused glance, and Yuuji winks at you while he reaches out to ruffle your son's pink hair.

Jin made a big fuss at the hairdresser last week, demanding to get the same haircut as his daddy because his daddy is a cool guy! Yuuji hasn't stopped being smug about that since then. But admittedly, they both look very handsome with their matching undercuts.

A warm feeling spreads through your chest. You have been married to Yuuji for eight years now, and you still love him like in the beginning, or even more.

He has stayed your personal hero, always looking out for you and giving you the comfort of his love and strength. Always making you happy with his sweetness and kindness.

He put a golden wedding ring on your finger, but the most important gold is still the one in his heart. It made you fall in love with him all those years ago at a beautiful beach, and it makes you continue to love him, makes that love grow with every passing year.

Yuuji kept his promises to you back then, and he continues to do so every single day.

Your gaze meets his, and you see the happy sparkle in his honey eyes. There is always so much love in those eyes anytime Yuuji looks at you. When he wakes up in the morning and his strong arms tighten around you as he smiles at you, still a bit sleepy. When you watch him giving your little son a piggyback ride through the living room. When Yuuji greets you after a long day at work. When he stands in the kitchen with you to cook a meal for your little family. When he makes sweet slow love to you almost every night. Or when he presses you against the shower wall in a rush of passion because he can't wait any longer to have you.

Yuuji grins and lifts his chin, indicating that you should focus on the gift package in your lap. You pick it up and inspect it, wondering what it could be.

It's the size of a shoe box. You shake it curiously, but the dull thud inside doesn't give you any idea what it could be.

"Open it, baby!"

Yuuji urges you on, his low voice filled with amused excitement.

You smile as you tear the gift wrapping off with the help of Jin's tiny hands, who is almost as excited as his daddy now.

The gift wrapping paper falls to the living room floor to reveal, as you expected, a black shoe box. You lift the lid curiously, and then three things happen at once.

Yuuji laughs loudly.

Your son slips off his father's lap and complains:

"Duh, that's boring! Daddy just bought you shoes!"

And you press a hand to your mouth as your eyes fill with tears.

Because in that shoe box is the exact same model of Flip Flops you were wearing on that significant day at the beach ten years ago.

"Omg, Yuuji! But...but how did you even know what they look like? I lost them before you fished me out of the ocean!"

His cheeky smirk is even bigger now, and he runs a hand through his pink hair, looking all proud and super cute,

"I saw a picture of you wearing them, and it gave me the idea to hunt for that same pair. I thought it would be a fun gift."

You chuckle happily and nod as more happy tears gather in your eyes.

"It's the perfect gift. Thank you, baby."

"Happy birthday and happy ten-year anniversary again. I'm so grateful for those old Flip Flops to make you stumble and give me you."

He's beaming at you with that bright sunshine smile, and before you can cry for real, Yuuji leans closer to cup your cheek with one of his large warm hands and captures your lips in a tender kiss.

When he pulls away again, his golden eyes look deeply into yours, making you feel so warm.

He is a good man, the perfect husband for you, and the best daddy in the world for your son.

Your lips tremble lightly, overcome with emotions, but Yuuji laughs softly,

"Aww, don't cry, cutie. Come here and let your personal lifeguard save you!"

And with that, he pulls you onto his lap and into his strong arms, hugging you tightly against his warm muscular body. And you wrap your arms around him, snuggling against his broad chest and lifting your head to smile at him,

"Always at my service, huh?"

"Always.

-The end -

Thank you so much for reading and staying with this story until the end! I had so much fun writing this, and it made me so happy when I saw people commenting that the story brings you comfort! That's what I want to achieve with my writing, so it means a lot to hear that! Thank you so much for the love!!

Originally I planned to end this last chapter after the moment when Yuuji sent us the plane ticket to Tokyo. But then I suddenly caught myself thinking about what will happen after that.

What bothers me in most movies or books is that they end at a time when the happy couple is still freshly in love, but we never see what happens after that. And it always makes me wonder, what will happen in ten years? Will they still be together? Will they still love each other? Will they still want each other? It's something that worries me a lot.

And so I wanted to write an ending for this story that shows that neither Yuuji nor (y/n) changed their minds. And that they stayed together and will continue to do so. I think that's very comforting. I cried so much while writing that ten years later part because it made me so happy. I needed that, I guess, and I hope you liked it too.

Thank you again to everyone who supported this story and encouraged me to keep writing it! It was such a sweet journey!

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

Julie says to Carrie "At least my mom didn't choose to leave me." Sorry that it's more than a 5 word prompt. It's been in my head that maybe the fallout between the girls wasn't all one sided. People lash out when grief is involved.

Thanks for the prompt! I took a little liberty with it, hope it still brings you joy :) HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING FOR THIS ONE: IMPLIED/REFERENCED SUICIDE ATTEMPT AND SOME INTERNALIZED MISOGYNY/DEROGATORY TERMS. Details under the cut, please take care of yourselves.

Send me prompts!

This also takes place in my Parenting verse, but also in my All Too Well verse, after the scene in check the pulse and come back swearing it's the same where Ray and Rose find out Trevor stole his songs. He went home, called his parents for the first time in twenty years, and asked them to take Carrie, because he was going to try to kill himself. He obviously did not succeed, but this fic is very much the aftermath of that, so please be aware.

--

Carrie comes back to L.A. on a Monday.

The weeks she spent living with her grandparents— the elusive Shaws— in New York were all sort of a blur. She couldn’t leave the house or even turn on the TV without getting bombarded with questions and news about her dad’s… she doesn’t even want to think it.

He’s alive, that’s all she knows for sure. Stable, according to his assistant Katie, who’s staying at Carrie’s house until her dad gets home from the hospital. But she doesn’t think a few weeks living it up in the psych ward and then meeting her at home for Friday night dinner was exactly his plan when he sent her away.

At school, Carrie keeps her head held high (and blinks back stubborn tears) as kids shout questions at her and teachers give her pitying looks. She pays as little attention in class as she can get away with— which isn’t much— and focuses on just getting through the day.

She avoids Julie. And Flynn, by extension, but Flynn was only ever Carrie’s friend because they were both Julie’s, there’s no way she won’t take Julie’s side in this.

Side in what, Carrie doesn’t even really know. All she knows is that when Carrie asked her dad why she had to stay with some old people she’d never met, why she couldn’t just stay with Mami and Papi— Mr. Molina— and Julie and Carlos…

Her dad looked at her— eyes big and bloodshot and manic like his meds make them get— and said, “Rose doesn’t want us seeing them anymore. Your grandparents will be good to you.”

So she avoids Julie, obeying her father’s wishes for probably the first time in her entire almost-eleven years of life.

Unfortunately, Julie knows her too well. Carrie’s barely taken one bite of her lunch when the door to the bathroom stall she’s been hiding in bursts open, startling her into dropping her tofu and cheese sandwich onto the gross bathroom floor.

“Ugh! Julie!” she splutters, even though she wasn’t even hungry anyway. “What is wrong with you, are you crazy?!”

“What’s wrong with me?” Julie shouts back. Her face is flushed, her eyes and hair wild. It’s not often that she gets angry, but Carrie knows her well enough to see the threat of tears in her eyes. “Carrie, what the heck! Two weeks ago, you were helping me decorate my new room, and then you just disappeared, and your dad was in the hospital, and I didn’t know where you were because no one will talk to me!”

Her voice breaks, and an inexplicable anger starts to boil in Carrie’s stomach. “Stop crying, you’re such a baby!” she snaps. “And since apparently, you can’t take a hint, I don’t want to be your friend anymore.”

Julie looks abruptly stricken. “What? Carrie, you can’t— I get you’re upset, okay? I— I’m sorry I was mean, I didn’t want— I just didn’t know what was happening, and my parents seemed so sad, and— but it’s okay, you can talk to me, you— you’re my sister!”

“Oh, come on, I’m not your anything,” Carrie scoffs, pushing past Julie to fix her hair in the mirror. She can feel something hot and ugly bubbling up her throat, but if she tries to hold it in, she’ll cry, so instead, she lets it all pour out. “Why would I even pretend to be your family anyway? It’s your mother’s fault my dad tried to kill himself.”

In the mirror, Julie’s face goes ashen. “What?”

Carrie flips her hair over her shoulder. “I don’t know what she said to him, but apparently she wants nothing to do with us now.”

Julie shakes her head. All the anger appears to have flooded out of her, leaving her small and drained-looking. Her hands are trembling at her sides. “Carrie, what? That’s not… possible.”

Carrie turns to face her again, jaw tight. “You know what? Maybe we are sisters. After all, everyone thinks your mom cheated on your dad with my dad. She probably did! She’s always been a slut.”

Julie’s mouth drops open. Her eyes well with tears. She hisses, mean in a way Carrie’s never seen her be before— a way that tells Carrie once and for all that this isn’t going to be a fight they get over, “At least my mom wanted me.”

Carrie’s stomach fills with ice. She can feel a smile plastered to her face of its own will, immovable and frozen. But she keeps her voice steady, and her eyes dry, as she says, “You’re right. No, Julie, really, you’re totally right. My mom didn’t want me, and neither does your mom, or my dad, or anyone! So why bother swimming against the current, huh? Join the club. And leave me alone!”

She stomps out of the bathroom, slams the door behind her, and only when she’s far away does she let herself cry.

[exosmutfactory]

Six Phases FINALE Pt 1

Originally posted by sefuns

Who knew it nearly took 6 months to win your heart, and 6 phases for Baekhyun to lose his mind.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) ||| ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2) (also on AFF)

networks — @supermwritersnet​ @/bbh-net

pairing — Baekhyun x Riley (OC)

word count — 28k+ (Finale part 1 - [19k] & 2 - [9k])

genre  — ceo! baekhyun, playboy! baekhyun, strangers to lovers, hurt & comfort (heaven knows they need that comfort), slow burn! kinda

[ contains: angst, fluff, smut ]

A/N: Buckle up, loves. Here comes a long one. ♡ Let’s go! (^-^)

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

⏰🌹Six Phases Tag List: 🌹⏰

@to-all-the-stories-i-love @insta1010 @sorrowinblood @bellamendoza @bbhflrt @weirdoome​

I was unable to tag one of you so I’ll DM you from @candyfizzbyun 💗💗💗

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

July is upon us before we know it, bringing forth more of the summer's blazing sunlight and smothering heat. Jenny's birthday is right around the corner, merely 3 days into the hottest month of the year. There's no wonder why she's throwing a party in a venue that has both a beautiful indoors and outdoors setting. The breezy summer-style dress code for the event is a given—and I plan to crash it with my wintry flare.

It's July 3rd, 90 degrees, and I'm strutting down the stone path leading up to the venue in a two piece velvet outfit. The wine color compliments my skin, hugging my body in all the right places. Between the bra-shaped, crop top that ties in the back and my waist-high pants with high slits to reveal my nude colored heels underneath, I feel like the baddest and sexiest woman up in this bitch.

"Riley!" Jenny beams the moment I step through the door, looking stunning in her light blue dress. It's a plain form-fitting dress, but nothing is simple about her wearing it. The light blue material goes well with the ocean hue of her eyes. The sleeveless, spaghetti-strapped fabric that wraps around her beautifully is the shortest dress I've ever seen on her—and Jongdae should feel like the luckiest man alive to see her like this all the time.

Her makeup is done perfectly, highlighting the softness of her round face and sharpening the gaze in her oval eyes. She nearly runs someone over when she comes barreling my way in her black heels with a drink in her hand.

I laugh at her excitement, accepting her hug without hesitation. "Hey, Jen."

"Hey," She smiles, pulling back a little to look at me. "You're early."

A little grin forms on my face; if only she knew. "I didn't want to risk any traffic jams," I explain, smiling more. She's practically buzzing with happiness.

"Ah," She nods, pursing her lips. "Maybe I should have chose a different time-"

"Hey," I place my hand on her shoulder, giving her a look. "Relax. Everything will be fine."

She sighs but nods, her owl-shaped, dangling-earrings sparkling prettily under the warm lights. "I hope no one else gets stuck."

"They won't," I shake my head, adding cheekily, "Especially Chanyeol, he drives like a madman."

"That big oaf," She mutters, a smile back on her face. Her blue eyes meet mine before she takes my hands between hers. "Come, I want to introduce you to someone."

"Oh?" I inquire, raising a brow as she leads me further into the venue. "This isn't one of those matchmaking situations is it?"

"No. Fuck men." She immediately rebukes, fire burning in her eyes. "I'm not dealing with anyone's bullshit. Not on my day."

"Damn straight," I mumble, amused at the disgruntled expression on her face. Jenny and Jongdae are back together—if you can call their last fight a breakup. Witnessing him show up on their doorstep with her favorite chocolate and a new plant to add to their home was a sight to see. He must have done something else for her to react this way though. I can't help but chuckle. Half a year later and he is still tiptoeing around her. That Haneul must be someone significant. My lips downturn at the thought.

"Eunjung! Eunjung!" Jenny's loud voice brings me back to the present. "Ugh, where is that woman?" She grumbles, searching the extravagant room. More partygoers are starting to stream in, filling up the building with every shade of the rainbow and then some. My eyes drift over to the fruit buffet on the long tables in the back when Jenny's eyes widen. "There she is!" She smiles, leading me over to the mini bar on the other side of the room.

I follow her line of sight, my heart dropping in the blink of an eye. It's the same woman I've been seeing around Baekhyun since May. Her once long black hair is now a short brown mohawk, the curly ends perfectly framing her oval shaped face.

"Eunjung, this is Riley." Jenny smiles, gesturing to me. "The wild child I've told you about," She jokes.

"Hello," Eunjung greets in a low voice, smiling warmly. She holds out her hand to me. "I've heard so much about you."

I can only shake her hand and smile back, glaring at Jenny out of the corner of my eye when Eunjung is distracted by the bartender bringing her a drink. "Nice to meet you."

Jenny takes a seat while I survey the room, making sure there aren't any heads of silver hair around. Jongin won't be coming tonight, he's busy preparing dance classes for the elementary students that he'll teach for the upcoming school year, so I keep my head on a swivel. As much as I consider Jenny one of my best friends, her ties with a certain someone cannot be ignored after what happened the last time we went to a party. 

"How's Miss Eunae?" Jenny's question catches my attention, pulling me back into their conversation.

"She won second place in a dance competition last month." 

"Really?!" Jenny gasps and I stiffen.

"Yeah, I couldn't make it." Eunjung smiles sadly, swirling the melting ice in her drink. "Thankfully her girlfriend could. And Baekhyun too."

"Wait," I interrupt, feeling wary when both their eyes focus on me. "You have a twin?"

"Yes. About my height, long black hair." Eunjung sets down her empty glass on the counter. "You might have seen her around before, that woman can't sit still to save her life."

"She has a girlfriend?"

Eunjung and Jenny share a brief, knowing glance before turning back to me. "Yes." Eunjung smiles.

I clear my throat, avoiding their dancing eyes. "Good for her."

"They've been together since high school." Jenny nudges me, a shit eating grin on her face.

"I'll be surprised if they marry before you and Jongdae though," Eunjung raises her hand to get the bartender's attention again. "Chaeyoung is always working overseas."

My chest vibrates. I pull my phone out of my secret breast pocket, tuning out the rest of their conversation.

*

Sat, 07/03 - 7:30pm

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Y'all ready?

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Ready as I'll ever be!

//

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Kyungsoo?

//

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

You owe me for this shit

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

I promise to help you bake in his place

\\

…

\\

As long as Dae and Yeol pick up the groceries :')

\\

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Chanyeol delivers and Jongdae unpacks

//

I don't trust his clumsy ass anywhere near my produce

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

\\

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

😂

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Hey!

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Ready guys?

\\

Cake master 🤗🍰🙏🏼

Yes

//

Heartbreaker 😑💔😄

Yeah

//

Earth shaker 😝💞😊

Mmhm >:(

//

♡ ♡ ♡ R ♡ ♡ ♡

Let's go 🤫🎂🚚💨✨🥰

\\

*

I can't help but chuckle, pocketing my phone. When I look up, Jenny is the only one sitting at the counter. "Hey," I frown, noticing the sad look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," She mumbles.

"Come on," I rest my hand on her arm, trying to catch her eye. "I can't let the birthday girl mope. You can tell me."

A smile quirks at her lips. "I just…" She sighs, turning to me. "I can't believe Jongdae is busy with work today."

"Awe," mimicking her poked out bottom lip, I nudge her softly. "Well, I guess you're just stuck with me—Deal with it."

"Riley!"

I burst out into laughter, back hugging her when she playfully pushes me away. "Hey, don't lose hope, yeah? He might surprise you."

"No he won't," She mumbles, full on pouting now. "He never surprises me."

"Well," Making eye contact with a certain mischievous brunette on the other side of the room, I tap her shoulder. "Maybe that will change today."

Jenny turns her head and gasps, leaping off of her bar stool. "Chanyeol? Kyungsoo? Jongdae?!?!?!?!"

Everyone in the room watches on with smiles on their faces, but Jongdae's is the brightest of all. "Hey, babe," He beams, opening his arms.

Jenny sprints over to him, colliding so hard with his body that she almost sends them both to the floor. But Jongdae takes it all in stride, holding her close while bellowing that signature laugh of his.

Smiling at them, I quickly walk over to help Kyungsoo and Chanyeol roll in the food cart. "Hey guys, everything okay?"

"We made it all in one piece," Kyungsoo mutters, glancing at the tall dome plate cover. "The cake too."

"Three different chocolates?"

"Mmhm."

"Perfectly symmetrical?"

"Yep," Yeol chimes in.

I grin, "She's going to love it."

"She's going to love you, you mean." Chanyeol sets his shining eyes on me. "How did you even know all this?"

I give him a small, secretive smile, "I have my resources." His grin only widens. "Did the gifts come in today?"

Kyungsoo nods, "Right on time."

"The delivery man showed up just as we were packing the cake into the back of the truck," Chanyeol chuckles, nearly tripping over the edge of a carpet. Kyungsoo and I look at him with our respective wide and narrowed eyes.

"Huh," I purse my lips, nodding in approval. "Now that is some high class two-day shipping." They both hum in agreement, Kyungsoo straightening out the table cloth before they begin to set the cake onto the round table.

"You guys good?" I look between them when they succeed in placing it down. Thank god for that; if that cake falls to the floor that's all our necks.

Kyungsoo nods, "Go on." He gives me a look that's hard to identify. "He's coming too."

"Oh," My heart leaps at the thought. Oh. Shit. He's coming. I should have expected as much, but to actually hear it makes it ten times more real... Shit. "I-Imma just…" I point behind me to the backdoor, slowly walking backward. "You know."

They nod, Chanyeol's eyes holding a hint of sadness. "It's okay. We got everything covered."

"Thank you," I breathe, smiling apologetically. Spinning on my heel, I hurry as fast as my high heels allow to the door. With one last glance back to make sure Jenny is okay, I slip out into the summer night.

Music from within the venue spreads out into the backyard, but it's much quieter out here. I survey the area, making sure no one else is around. Not that I am against anyone being outside, I've just had enough social interaction for one evening… and the night has barely begun.

Sighing to myself, I walk further out onto the patio, my lips quirking up at the light blue cushions on the chairs. Jenny planned this event to the Tee, huh? I chuckle, sighing softly.

The deck is a nice light gray shade, contrasting against the black base of the table and lounge chairs. Running my eyes over them, I hum, choosing to lean against the table instead.

Pain buds in my chest when my thoughts wander. I shouldn't care—I really shouldn't but… Even after everything. Even after all this time, it hurts to think of him with anyone else. The thought of him holding someone in his arms, in his home, in his heart… It crushes me to the core. It eats me up on the inside. It keeps me up at night.

I shouldn't care, yet every time I hear his name, every time I see his face... I go back to that January night, and I regret it every single time.

No matter how hard I try, my head is constantly full of 'what ifs.' What if I stayed? What if he was willing to change? What would we be right now if I hadn't walked away? 

I love—I loved Baekhyun with all my heart…

Can I really move on from this? Will I ever wake up one day and not imagine his sleeping face next to mine?

He could still have someone already for all I know, but for tonight… I rather tell myself that he is alone.

Leaning my elbows on the patio table, I watch the sunset, admiring the pink and orange hues streaking across the blue sky.

"You're staring."

"I love admiring art."

"So I'm an object now?"

The unmistakable love in his sparkly brown eyes… "You are the source," He pauses, holding my heart in his warm smile, "Of my love and affection."

My heart squeezes in earnest. God… why does this hurt so much? Why do his words linger in my mind and actions take hold of my heart? When will it end? When will it fucking end—

"Miss?" A low, raspy voice startles me.

I spin around, staring at the culprit with narrowed eyes. They widen as I take in the man in front of me.

The first thing I notice is his sharp jawline, leading up to his thin lips that curl up at the ends, reminding me a little of Jongdae. My eyes trail up further, taking in his tall nose with a rounded tip, his prominent cheekbones and narrow eyebrows. His slicked back, brown hair shows his broad forehead, and then—

His eyes…

They are the darkest shade of brown that I've ever seen, their almond shape perfectly suiting the rest of his face. They appear black in the dim light of the setting sun. Looking into them has me feeling many things, wondering what story those dark pools of molten hot coffee hold. 

"Are you alright?" He asks, his low voice in a husky tone that I'm slowly getting used to hearing… until I feel the drop that lands on my cheek.

"Oh—yeah!" I inwardly curse, hastily rubbing the tear from my cheek. "I-It's just, you know... allergies."

He nods and I cringe on the inside because I know he can tell that I'm completely bullshitting him right now. "What are you doing out here?" He inquires, tilting his head. His tone of voice isn't judging or hostile, it's more… caring. And sweet. I wish I could read his eyes though...

"Needed a breather," I shrug, repositioning myself in a more attractive manner. I am not about to let some stranger see me hanging out back here like a socially awkward potato on top of everything else—I refuse. "You?"

"Business call," He murmurs distractedly, repocketing his vibrating phone.

"Oh," I inwardly roll my eyes. Right. As if I don't have enough business men in my life.

"The Tech team found a corrupted file," He sighs, checking his expensive gold watch. "They don't know how bad it is yet… The film might have to be delayed."

Film? I perk up at that. "You help film movies?"

He smiles, glancing up at me, a lock of hair falling over his eye. "I'm the director."

A very casual one at that; I note, taking in his outfit. He's decked out in a light blue denim jacket and a white t-shirt, but I know those aren't cheap. Nope, I've seen enough of Baekhyun's cotton shirts to—

"What's the theme?" I blurt out, curling my hand into a fist as I lean further back on the table. "Classified information?" I raise a brow, smirking at his speechless face.

"Aish…" He closes his mouth, smiling a little. "Something like that."

"Eh," I shrug, smiling softly. "I can respect that."

The temperature suddenly starts to drop. A chilly wind blows, ruffling the ends of his hair. The scent of something I haven't encountered before reaches my nose. Bourbon and vanilla; citrus and peach... It's hard to describe, but it creates an aroma that catches my attention.

"What's your name?" I tilt my head, my eyes widening at the sparkle that reflects in his dark eyes from the last rays of the setting sun.

His eyes widen before he points to himself. "Me?"

"Who else, silly?" I laugh, holding back a snort, a smile tugging at my lips at the sheepish look on his face. He's pretty cute, I'll give him that.

He clears his throat, looking away. "Jackson."

I fight back my smile seeing how flustered he is. "I'm Riley." A thought occurs to me for a moment… What is a business man—director doing here? This is an invitation-only event, and I helped Jenny painstakingly arrange the guest list... "How do you know Jenny?"

"Hmm?" Jackson blinks, flickering his eyes back to mine. "Oh!" He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. "She's an old friend."

"Oh," My eyes narrow in the last rays of sunlight.

"We kept in contact after her and Yugyeom split," He explains, and the apologetic expression on his face has my eyes widening again. Did he just see through me? Uh—Wait.

"Oh my god, Yugyeom?—Kim Yugyeom?"

"Yes…" He trails off, looking me over carefully. "Do you know him?"

Do I know him? My reddening cheeks are enough of an explanation. "Not really," I laugh awkwardly, standing up fully. Alright, I've had enough human interaction for today. Between him, the discovery of Eunjung's twin not seeing Baekhyun, meeting someone who is friends with that tall guy I was drooling over months ago, and having to keep Jenny's birthday surprise a secret all week, I'm drained. Time to go—

A crack of thunder echoes across the sky, and then the bottom drops, rain drenching us in seconds.

Well shit… Did none of us check the weather for today? I rack my brain for answers, trying to remember—oh... Oh. Jenny… likes… thunderstorms…

The rain continues to pour, soaking my velvet outfit and flattening my hair without remorse. It won't melt me, but the venue is a city away from Seoul and if I don't hurry home now...

"Well!" I turn away to hide the bitter smile on my face, pushing off of the slippery table. "Time for me to go. Nice meeting you, Jackson."

"Wait-"

I puff up my cheeks, blowing the air out as my hair sticks messily to my forehead. Fighting the urge to brush it back is difficult, but if there's one thing I know about my hair when it's wet, it's the agony that comes with ruffling it up. I rather not cry while detangling it when it's air dried later—

A yank on my arm makes me yelp, my head slamming into something hard when thunder cracks across the sky again, followed by the horrifying crackle of lightning. My head snaps up, eyes squinting against the onslaught of rain. I can barely make out Jackson's face, his features twisted in concern with his hair mattered to his forehead like a mop. The sheer amount of fear in his wide eyes has me more than confused. I take a look around, my heart stopping right in its tracks.

The doorknob of the back door sizzles, steam floating from it in a cloud of smoke. The crack from a lightning bolt visible as the rain washes the spark away.

My face pales when I look back up at the man in front of me.

Jackson steps back, steading me with his hands on my arms when my knees buckle. "Sorry," He clears his throat. "I tried to warn you but-"

"Thank you," I mumble, moving away when I find my balance again. "That could have been…" My head spins at the thought, "Bad."

He nods with a concerned frown, worry written all over his handsome features.

"...Well!" I clear my throat, giving him a small smile. "Thanks again for saving me, stranger." I joke, my eyes shooting down when I feel something rough shielding my shoulders from the rain. "Oh-" They snap back up to meet his, "You don't have to-"

"Keep it." He shakes his head, placing his denim jacket fully on my shoulders. "You're shivering."

"I…" My face is so hot the rain does nothing to cool me down. "Thank you."

Jackson smiles, shoving his hands into his pockets. "No problem." He starts walking backwards, glancing up at the sky before propping open the back door with his leather boot.

"Wait!" I blurt, blushing all the way up to my ears when he looks back at me, having to raise my voice over the unmerciful wind. "H-How will I return it without your number?"

A shy yet boyish grin forms on his face. "Not here."

"Huh?" I blink.

Jackson smiles even more, holding the door open before giving a little bow and outstretching his hand to me. "Ladies first."

A dozen thoughts race through my head while looking at his waiting hand, the action so familiar my heart tugs painfully in my chest. Smiling my prettiest smile, I place my palm in his.

•••

I forgot how refreshing it is to talk to someone new. Stepping out of my comfort zone to get to know a person outside of my friend group—an attractive person at that.

Texting Jackson is a treat. He's a man of high intellect, giving me great advice with years of director experience under his belt. The most shocking thing is that he is only 24—24! Two years older than me. He breaks my dating rule of pursuing anyone less than 4 years older than me, but his maturity makes up for it. Age doesn't define maturity as I have come to realize after a certain someone.

He's super sweet too. We haven't been able to see each other in person since Jenny's party last month, but a day hasn't gone by where we haven't texted. And boy does he text—the most flustering things that is. Jackson has a way with words that makes my heart squeeze in giddiness and me hide behind my hand while peeking at my screen.

He laughs at all of my jokes; he sends good morning and goodnight texts without fail. If nothing else, he is a great conversationalist who would make an even better companion, and I can't wait to see him again. I have a denim jacket hanging up in my closet to return, after all.

A knock on my office door brings me back to the present. I blink a few times, carefully reading over the email I've been working on for the past 20 minutes. "Come in," I permit, glancing at the time. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door when it opens stops my typing in its tracks.

Ms. Kim Eun, the newly appointed book editor, steps into the room, setting off my internal warning signals. Her outfit matches the company dress code, that isn't the problem here. No, it's the sheer amount of dread, sorrow, and fear coming off of her shuffling body in waves. "You asked to see me, Ma'am?" She inquires in the most broken of tones. A fragility I know very well.

"Yes." Saving my progress on the computer, I beckon her over with a reassuring smile. "Please, have a seat."

She slowly walks further into the room, sitting down in one of the leather chairs.

"Ms. Kim," I start as tentatively and professionally as possible, lacing my fingers together on top of my desk. "It has come to my attention that you have been behind on editing the book."

"Oh..." She mumbles, fidgeting with the purse in her lap. "I-I'm sorry, I-"

"I understand you might have other obligations and factors outside of work," I continue, reading her steadily panicking face like a book, "But we don't have a lot of time to get this novel done. We're on a tight schedule here."

"C-Can…" Her eyes lift from the purse in her hands, still holding onto it for dear life. "Can you do it for me?" She whispers.

I let out a short laugh. "No." Her eyes shake as my face hardens. "You were appointed as editor 3 weeks ago, correct?"

She nods, fear glimmering in her wide eyes.

"Your job is to edit the book," I remind her, my lips pressed into a thin line. "That's what you get paid for, that's your responsibility."

"But-"

"If I could do it myself, I wouldn't need to hire you." Her bottom lip starts to tremble; she's about to break. "If you can't do the job, I'm going to need you to put in your 2 weeks," I slide the slip of paper across the desk, "In early. Unless you can get half of the book done by Friday."

"T-That's only 3 days," She gasps, her voice wavering. "I can't-"

"You've had nearly a month in advance to work on it as an Intern." My voice lowers, "I'm sure you have plenty of time to catch up in-"

"I can't!" She wails loudly, hiding her face in her hands. "I-I'm not qualified for this position. I'm just a high school graduate with inside connections." She sobs, the dam of her built up emotions spilling over. "I didn't even finish English 12 with an A."

My clenched jaw ticks. I know she isn't faking it; she's been off for the past two weeks. It's her lack of sharing this important information that is getting to me. If she isn't qualified to take over the editing position, why the hell is she—my eyes widen and then narrow. Mrs. Park.

Looking at Eun, I finally understand. Her bowed head, slouched shoulders, and quiet hiccups dawning on me as clear as day.

"My boyfriend c-cheated on me with my best friend." She croaks sorrowfully. "He said that I deserved it, t-that I made him do it from working late all the time." She runs a hand through her hair, laughing brokenly, her tears leaving a trail of inky black mascara in their wake. "My editing isn't good anyway."

Reaching across the desk, I offer her my box of tissues. "I know how you feel," I mutter, keeping my voice even. "You feel lost, broken and tossed aside as if a part of you is gone." She nods, sniffling while smearing the makeup under her eye. "You ask yourself how you will ever move on from it." Leaving the box on the edge of the desk, I meet her eyes again. "But you will move on." The conversation I had with Jongin in the studio that day comes to mind, quirking a small smile on my lips. "You will wake up one day and not think of them. As long as you want to. You shouldn't stay stuck on someone who has hurt you." 

Tucking the resignation document into a drawer, I turn my sleeping computer back on. "You are worth more than how they've treated you, but you have to decide that for yourself."

"O-Okay," Eun sniffles, wiping her face. A couple tissues fall out of her hand, but her tears have stopped.

"Good." I lean back into my rollable leather chair with a stretch, smiling softly. "Let's settle this. Make me a list of your strengths and weaknesses."

Her wide eyes snap back up to mine. "I-"

"Now."

"Damn, Kyungsoo, how many of these cakes do you need in a day?" I sigh, my hands cramping up. We've been at it for hours, baking desserts at his restaurant because today is a national holiday. Funny how he let all his workers take the day off and here I am handling enough flour to make me sneeze in Jongdae's place.

Kyungsoo doesn't even look up at me, continuing to knead the dough in his hands. "I'd give an estimate but I don't want to overwhelm you."

I'd dramatically flop down into a chair if I wasn't molding a ball of my own dough, so I just groan instead. "You're killing me over here."

"Who offered to help me bake in Jongdae's place?" He raises a brow, shaping the churro in his hands with precession.

"It was all for the good of Jenny's last minute birthday cake!" I whine, starting to place a hand over my heart until I remember the torment I went through last time I got cake batter on this floral shirt. "Have you no heart?" I pout, giving him puppy eyes.

Kyungsoo slowly raises his head and I quickly get back to shaping the fancy doughnut in my hands without a word.

"So," I clear my throat, smiling sheepishly. "Did Dae and Yeol deliver everything okay?"

"They were late." Kyungsoo neatly arranges his perfectly shaped churros onto a tray, sliding them into the preheated oven. "Any later and the milk would have gone bad."

"Yikes," I wince, reaching to rub the back of my head only to pause mid-way, stopped by the wet flour sticking to my hand. "I should have helped more."

"Chanyeol would have slowed down to not give you motion sickness and then the cheese would have gone bad too." He points out.

"You sound a bit grumpy today," I note softly, glancing over at him again. "Did Chanyeol do something?" Kyungsoo starts another row of churros, staring blankly at me as he almost crushes the long sticks in his hands. "Okay, okay! I'll drop it, no need for the third degree. Spare the churro's life, please..."

"I'm going to ban him from my restaurant, I swear." He grumbles under his breath.

"At least he offered to help," I mumble, setting the last doughnut onto the non-stick pan. "How many more you got for me?" I ask, dusting off my hands.

Kyungsoo comes over to take the tray off of the counter. "None."

I raise a brow. "That's it?"

"No," He slides it in with the baking churros. "I'm sending you home."

I frown, "Why?"

"You're loud, chatty and keep dripping flour all over my floor." He deadpans. "And you're falling asleep."

Gawking at him for a few moments all I can do is huff. "I am not-"

"You're gonna get cake batter in your hair."

I flinch, putting my hand down at once. "Are you really kicking me out right now?" I mumble, blowing annoying strands of hair out of my eyes. 

"You're fired." He wipes his clean hands with a towel and walks back over to turn on the sink for me. "Now go home and sleep."

"I don't even work here!"

He gives me a look.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, scrubbing flour from under my nails. "Fine. I'll be out of your hair-"

The chime on the door of the restaurant rings, capturing my attention. I crane my neck around to see who the hell is coming in here when there's obviously a "CLOSED" sign out front and it's freaking 9pm. My face pales at the black baseball cap and leather jacket figure stumbling through the door. I tug on the sleeve of the busy man next to me. Um, Kyungsoo-

They pull their hat off before they reach the middle of the restaurant, revealing a familiar flushed face and unmistakable silver hair.

Oh fuck no.

"I'm sorry I'm late, Kyungsoo," He mumbles, his head down while approaching the counter. "I got held up at the office and the traffic was-" His head snaps up just as I contemplate ducking out of view. "R-Riley…?" He whispers, his face paling. He looks like he's seen a ghost and I can't imagine I'm doing any better.

"You're late." Kyungsoo deadpans, busying himself with washing the used baking trays and utensils in the sink.

"I…" Baekhyun steps closer and I feel like I'm going to throw up. My heart isn't in my throat at this point, it's somewhere lost between my nose and my gag reflex.

"Have you been drinking?" Kyungsoo finally looks up from the spatula in his hands, his eyes narrowing at the lack of response.

Baekhyun's red face glows brighter under the harsh kitchen lights. He purses his lips, "No-"

"Where's your car?" Kyungsoo demands. "I'm not letting you drive."

"Kyungsoo, I'm fine," He rolls back on the heels of his feet, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "You have an important client coming in tomorrow-"

"I don't care who the hell is coming tomorrow." Kyungsoo cuts him off, full-on glaring at him now. His normally calm voice growing deeper with anger by the second. "I'm not letting you drive-"

"I'll take him home," I mumble, shrinking in on myself when both their eyes snap over to me.

Kyungsoo frowns, "Riley-"

"I'm taking him home, Kyungsoo." I cross my arms, shaking my head at the disapproving expression on his stern face. "You have a huge event tomorrow, you sent your staff home, and your kitchen is covered in cake batter," I list off of my fingers, daring him to say another word. "His apartment is on the whole other side of town. I think we both know what's the best course of action here."

Kyungsoo stands there silently for a long moment, but I don't back down, merely arching a brow. "Are you sure you'll be alright?" He softens, not even acknowledging the other man in the room.

"Yeah." I smile, uncrossing my arms. "I know I'm a disaster with a knife but I know how to drive, Kyungsoo. You got to give me some credit here."

"Alright," He chuckles, smiling a little before shifting his eyes back to the man on the other side of the counter. "Don't cause her any trouble, you hear me?"

Baekhyun's dazed eyes widen, "I-"

"If you mess with a single hair on her head," Kyungsoo continues, lifting the butcher knife in his hands. "Say goodbye to your kids."

"I-I won't fucking!" Baekhyun tangles a hand in his messy hair, sucking in a deep breath. "I'm walking home."

"Oh no you aren't," I rebuke, rounding the counter.

He grits his teeth, spinning around on his heel, "I'm-"

"Yah, Baekhyun." Kyungsoo's deep voice cuts through the air.

Baekhyun freezes up, looking over his shoulder with wide eyes. "Y-Yes?-"

"Take this." Kyungsoo starts, slamming a couple bags full of food to his chest. "Shut the fuck up and let Riley take you home."

"I-" Baekhyun shakes his head, "I can still catch the bus. There's no need-" His face drains of color when he meets Kyungsoo's eyes again. If looks could kill, he'd be 6 feet under.

Kyungsoo turns back to me then, "If he gives you a hard time, call me, okay?"

"Yes, Kyungsoo," I immediately agree, fearful of his sour mood as well. Note to self: angry Kyungsoo is scarier than angry Jongin.

"Good," He grumbles but smiles, patting my arm before walking back to the kitchen. "I'll save some of the churros for you."

"Thank you!" I beam at him, waving until he walks into the backroom. My smile doesn't fade, my cheeks starting to hurt until I feel a certain someone's stare on the back of my head. Oh shit.

Slowly turning around, I drag my eyes up to look into the most beautiful puppy eyes in the world, my heart going into overdrive.

"Hey," Baekhyun whispers.

A sad smile quirks on my lips, "Hi." Sighing a little, I take a look around, hanging up my apron and retrieving my hidden purse from the back of a chair at one of the extravagant dining tables. "Let's go."

Baekhyun nods, following me out of the restaurant. I open the door and hold it for him until he reaches the doorstep. We may not be on good terms, but that doesn't mean I'll just let a door slam in his face.

…

I most definitely should have let that door slam in his face.

Shaking off my aggressive thoughts, I take a deep breath and power walk to my car, shivering in the cold wind. It's the middle of July and a tropical storm has blown in, bringing its cold rains and chilling nights with it. Trust Seoul to have these extreme temperature changes, I should have kept my ass back in the South.

Baekhyun doesn't say a word as we make it to my red Porsche. I unlock the car when we are a few feet away, rolling my keys around my fingers. "Hop in, Byun."

He climbs into the passenger seat and by now the silence is killing me, but I shove it down. I'm here to drive him home and that's it. No more, no less.

Sighing inwardly, I settle into the driver's seat. "Buckle up," I mutter, looking at him out of the corner of my eye. "You may be more likely to survive a car crash in your drunken stupor but I sure as hell am not getting a fine for your ass."

I swear I hear him mutter, "of course," under his breath.

"What was that?" I pointedly widen my eyes, looking directly at him.

"Nothing." He grumbles, keeping his eyes facing forward.

"I thought so," Making sure he's strapped securely and checking my rearview mirror, I stick the key into the ignition and pull out of the parking lot.

Driving to Baekhyun's apartment feels so surreal, for many reasons. Never in our relation—our previous relationship have I driven him anywhere. I never dared to get behind the wheel of his Audi, that car is too expensive. If I had wrecked it and looked at the cost to fix or replace it, combined with the look of pure rage that would be on his face from me crashing his baby, I would die. Bad blood or not, I rather not be on Baekhyun's bad side.

My heartbeat picks up the longer the car ride goes on. Fuck, it's getting harder to breathe. I literally have the biggest problem to ever walk into my life right next to me months after I swore to never speak to him again. Why did I agree to this? What was I thinking? 

No. No time for that, I'm going to drop him off at his apartment and continue moving on with my life. That's why I left him in the first place.

"...Riley?" He speaks up a few streets away from his house, his voice the softest I've heard in a while.

Nope. Don't engage. I tighten my grip on the steering wheel.

"Can… Can we talk?" He continues, sounding sadder by the minute. "Please?"

"We're ten minutes away, Baekhyun."

"I…" The bags rustle in his lap as he sighs. "I knew this would happen."

"What?" I glance sharply at him at the next red light.

Baekhyun looks down at his hands with the most pitiful expression on his face, tears building in the corners of his eyes under the bright city lights. "I knew you would hate me."

Oh my fucking—My heart squeezes painfully in my chest. I want to roll my eyes and launch myself out of the car window at the same time. "Stop bringing it up, Byun." I mutter, focusing back on the road. "It's a thing of the past. Let it die there."

"Yeah," He laughs, his voice raw with emotion. "Like my heart the night you left me."

I clench my jaw, taking a deep breath, inwardly cursing the hectic late night traffic. Come on, fuckers, I need this man out of my car asap.

"You don't even want to talk to me about it." He continues, growing more frustrated and louder by the minute. "You don't even want to see me-"

"Of course I don't, Baekhyun!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him. "After all the shit you've done I have every right to not speak to your smug fucking face again."

"Smug?" He laughs weakly. "You think I enjoyed what happened to us?"

"Yep," I chirp, gripping the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn pale. "There's no other explanation for why you are in my car right now."

"You insisted for me to be here." He fires right back. "You break up with me, hang out with all my friends, then act like a cold hearted bitch every time you see me."

"It takes one to know one, Baekhyun." I jab right back, curling my upper lip in a cruel smile.

"Yeah," He scoffs, crossing his arms and facing the window. "I'm sure you know that very well."

"If you're going to be a whiny little bitch," I start, smiling widely at him, "I will put you out on your ass, Baekhyun."

"Wouldn't you love that," He laughs, anger coming off of him in waves. "You were always obsessed with my ass."

That's it.

Baekhyun yelps when I slam on the breaks, bracing his hands on the dashboard. "Riley, what the hell?!"

"You wanted to talk?" I make sure the curb of the street I pulled onto is clear before facing him with a grin. "Huh? You want to talk now?" Baekhyun shrinks further into the passenger seat when I lean over him. "Fucking say it to my face then, you bastard." I snarl. "Go on. Give your little practiced speech."

Baekhyun parts his lips a few times, making my rage raise even more—"I miss you." He mumbles sadly.

I blink, staring at him. "...What?" I chuckle, growing wary as he keeps giving me those kicked puppy dog eyes. "What the fuck are you on about, Baekhyun-"

"I miss you." He repeats. "I miss your voice, I miss your eyes, I miss waking up to your sleeping face next to mine." He takes a shaky breath, tears filling his eyes. "I miss your strawberry scent on our pillows. I miss your loving words. I miss you complaining about my random ramblings and shutting me up with a kiss… I miss everything about you." He drags his eyes back up to mine then. "I miss you so much I wake up every day and fall apart when I remember that you aren't there."

Sucking in a breath, I look away from him, my anger long forgotten. I… I don't know what to say. "You…" A lump forms in my throat. I have to bite the inside of my cheek to restrain my wobbling chin.

Baekhyun keeps his eyes on me, pleading with me with their sad, brown depths. He doesn't expect the slap I land on his pretty face.

"You fucking bastard," I mutter lowly, shaking in anger, the last of my sanity flying out of the window. "You don't get to come in here and say all this fucking bullshit when you couldn't even tell your fucking mother that you were dating me!" I scream, my vocal chords pulling harder than my heart strings. "You were dating me, living with me, loving me, fucking me-" I laugh, throwing my hand out to show off the car. "For a whole year. Then you come here with your pretty, pitiful little empty words and expect me to forgive you? Really? You really think so little of me?"

"Ri-"

"Did you not get it the first time?" I ask in the sweetest of tones, my Southern accent out on full display. "Huh? You told your dear mother about us then suddenly come running back after me? Did having her approval feel that good little puppy?"

Baekhyun's face burns a dozen different shades of red, but I'm not fucking done yet.

"Here comes the man who was so overcome with jealousy over my best friend that he pretended to fuck another whore at his party," I list off on my fingers, my voice growing louder with every word I fire at him."Here goes the man who accused me of fucking Jongin because I wanted to be left alone at a mother fucking party. Here sits the man—who had the audacity to cheat on me not once, but twice!" My lips curl up into the ugliest sneer, glaring at Baekhyun hard enough to kill. "And here lies the cowardly man who will lie like a pig in mud for the rest of eternity as far as I am concerned."

I'm huffing and puffing by the time I'm done, not even waiting for him to say anything before starting back up again. "You know I never and would never have cheated on you, right?" I ask, lowering the volume of my voice. "If I didn't want to be faithful to you, Baekhyun, I would have been with someone else. I don't pull stunts to be petty and shit. If you didn't know that about me now, you're a fucking idiot, and if you don't believe me, then I don't know what to tell you." I shrug, leaning back tiredly into my seat and keeping my eyes forward on the empty road ahead.

"I get that," He says quietly.

A chuckle bubbles in my aching chest. "Do you?" I raise a brow, trying to calm down. "Do you understand how stupid it is to cheat on someone just because you're feeling petty or uncomfortable in a situation-"

"I never cheated on you."

"Ha!" I bark out a laugh. "And I don't have 4C hair." Rolling my eyes, I throw my hands up. "What? So that model at the photoshoot and the lipstick stain on the collar of your shirt wasn't you cheating? Are you serious?"

"Yes."

"Really? You really are going to deny-"

"Melody tripped over a sewage drain and that model forced herself onto me." He states firmly. "Neither was consensual or intentional."

Both my brows raise. "Huh. You know, it's real funny how you have an explanation for that now." I roll down my window to cool off, leaning my elbow onto the window seal and my chin in my palm before turning to him again. "Where was this energy months ago?" 

Baekhyun nods. "You're right. I am a coward," He admits, stopping me dead in my tracks. "Dumb enough to not say anything and dumb enough to think that you'd figure it out because I…" He trails off, biting his lips before those teary brown eyes lock onto mine again. Taking my breath away with the endless storm of emotions swirling within them. "With you, I'm like an open book. You always saw right through me, so I thought… I thought I didn't have to say anything," His head drops, looking down at the neat bags sitting at his feet. "And when I did, it was too late."

My eyes narrow. "How do I know you aren't bullshtting me?"

"I have nothing left to lose," He shrugs, smiling sadly.

Anger flares up in me again. "What is that supposed to mean-"

"I already lost you."

My mouth snaps shut, a feeling I haven't felt in months squeezing my heart in earnest.

"Everything you said was true," He mumbles. "All of it. The secrets, the lies-"

"And what makes you say that?"

His ears burn brighter than the red handprint on his cheek. "I'm seeing a therapist."

"Oh—Shit..." A wave of white hot shame falls over me. "Baekhyun, I-I'm sorry-"

"No." He shakes his head before bending down, the paper bags rustling in his grasp. "Don't. You said nothing but the truth."

"That still doesn't make it okay…" I rub the back of my neck, cursing myself inwardly for my anger. I hadn't meant to go off on him, that wasn't my intention—

"It's only fair," He mutters, shrugging weakly. "I've said worse to you."

"I…" I can't help but sigh, at a loss for words. "...I'm proud of you, seeing a therapist takes a lot of courage and self awareness."

"Thank you."

"I'm glad you're doing okay," I mumble.

Baekhyun stiffens up. Suddenly the atmosphere in the car shifts into something more melancholic.

"B-Baek?"

He lifts up his head, revealing his tear-stained face to me. "You think so?"

My heart clenches in anguish. "Baekhyun-"

"After everything you…" His voice breaks. "You think I'm fine? You think I'm okay?" Tears dampen the long strands of silver hair dangling in his eyes. "I haven't slept. I haven't eaten. I haven't breathed—I haven't lived since the day you left." He croaks, sucking in a breath. "So if you think that I am okay, I am not."

I have nothing else to say after that. What can I even say...?

Feeling tears form in my own eyes, I turn the car back on. My mom always taught me that if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say nothing at all. And after I slapped him and said all of those things…

I pull off of the curb, hiding my tears away from him. There's nothing I can do but take him home and hope that in the distant future… In a brand new life… He can forgive me for everything I've done to him and move on too.

The rest of the ride is spent in silence. No radio. No cars zooming past. The only thing I hear is his quiet sniffles and the cry of my wheezing heart.

"Thanks for taking me home," He mumbles in the softest of tones, mumbling more to his scuffed up sneakers than to me.

"No problem," I say softly, reaching out to place my hand on his shoulder only to pause, gripping the steering wheel again. "Make sure to take some Advil from the third cabinet on the right, okay?"

Baekhyun nods, hiding under the strands of his messy hair. He scares the hell out of me when his head suddenly shoots up again.

"Baek…?" I whisper, not sure what to do as he starts leaning in. He reveals his face to me up close for the first time in months. Heart-wrenching features that I know so well. The droopy shape of his brown eyes, the soft slope of his button nose, the cute little mole on top of his soft pink, thin lips that are pursed in concentration. For what? I have no idea. "Baekhyun-"

He slams his hand down on the dashboard, making me flinch. "Spider," He mutters, opening his hand to reveal its creepy squished body. I shiver at the sight. "I don't want you getting into a wreck. I know how you hate-" He sighs loudly, shaking his head. "Never mind…"

Yeah… I gulp, forcing a smile. Never mind.

"Travel safely, okay?" He takes his bags of food and steps out of the car, moving to close the door only to pause, meeting my eyes from under the bright city lights. "Goodnight, Riley."

It takes everything in me not to break down right there and then. "Good-" My lips wobble. I clear my throat, brushing my hair back before daring to look into his dull brown eyes again. "Goodnight, Baekhyun."

He smiles so small and sadly, making my heart weep when he closes the door and walks off to enter his apartment building.

I sit there for a few moments, staring out at the busy street ahead. It's so funny… This empty feeling in my chest. It's… It's like I never left…

•••

It's unfair… how much your heart hurts when you're stuck on someone. Realizing that no matter how many times they've hurt you, your broken heart still beats for them… and only them.

No matter how hard I try to deny it, the heart doesn't lie…

Baekhyun… is still a part of me. His scent may have faded, his t-shirts and hoodies are cleared out from my room… but the memory of him lives on in my heart. And I can't get rid of him without breaking myself completely and reforming a "perfect mold" to fit myself in.

Ha… funny how that works. 7 months of moving on has led up to this. Nothing. 7 months, 12 months, or 30 years, Baekhyun's scent can wash off of my skin, but the rest of the world won't let me break the two of us apart. If I am my brain, he is my heart. And you can't live without that muscle pumping steadily in your aching chest.

It's so unfair… because I'm trying my hardest to move on with someone else.

It takes me forever to get ready for my date tonight, and when I do… Something tells me to cancel it. But I can't. Jackson will be busy for the next month and a half. This is the only time in his schedule where he can take me out on the "proper date" as he likes to call it. Which he doesn't have to, I'm not that hard to please. I mean for fuck sake, I haven't had an official date until I was 20. 

I'm not picky about these things, but I ended up agreeing in the end anyway. The sad puppy look on Jackson's face when I tried to decline going to a restaurant to just stay in and watch movies instead still haunts me. Those almond shaped, dark brown puppy eyes… Damn him.

Sighing softly, I carefully apply my eyeliner in my vanity mirror, checking over my appearance one last time and smiling at the result. My lips are the richest shade of red, dark brown, waist-length hair curled to perfection, and the crystal earrings I haven't worn in ages sparkle every time they catch the light. Perfect for my chosen dress for the night.

It's a little something that I've bought recently. A spaghetti strapped, black velvet piece with a cowl shaped neck that shows off a bit of my cleavage, form-fitting all the way down to the V shaped end of the dress. It ends high on my thigh, but I have no plans to go dancing tonight, (for Jackson's sake). It's just enough to make him a little hot under his expensive collar. Especially with the lace strings crisscrossed in the back that are the only thing holding the dress up.

A low buzz makes me jump, startling me out of my thoughts. I fish for my phone in the vibrating purse in my lap. I haven't taken it out since last night… The weight of Baekhyun's unblocked number in my phone is a heavy load... and I only have myself to blame.

My eyes widen at the caller ID on the screen: Him. And I know exactly who he is.

Biting my nails, I weigh my options: answer now and end up canceling my plans or call him back tomorrow... 

…

Would it really be that bad to cancel? No—I can't. Jackson thinks I'm a punctual woman and…

"Always so sweet for me," He murmurs lowly, painting my skin with the shape of his lips.

My breath hitches, mouth going dry as more memories dance in my mind. Skin on skin, hushed whispers, champagne painted breaths...

"Mmm you're so wet," He groans, grazing my clit with his teeth. "Making a mess all over me."

A knock on my door makes me pause, staring down at the buzzing phone in my hand.

7 months without Baekhyun… and it has resorted to this.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—Fuck!

I power down the phone, toss it back into my bag, pull it onto my shoulder and launch myself out of my chair to open the door before I lose my nerve. The sight that greets me on the other side of the door makes my heart flutter, but…

"Hey," Jackson smiles softly, his dark brown eyes sparkling under the bright lights.

It doesn't take my breath away.

"Hi," I manage a smile, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"You look beautiful," He compliments, his eyes sparkling even more as he looks over my dress before meeting my eyes again.

My smile grows, warmth spreading over my cheeks. "Thank you," I mutter softly, laughing a little. "You're not too bad yourself."

He smiles again, gesturing to me, the shine of his thin gold bracelet reflecting the hallway lights. "May I?"

"Hmm?—Oh!" I gasp, noticing the red and black corsage in his hands. "Y-Yes," I smile shyly, my heart pounding when he holds out his hand to me.

Jackson gently takes my hand, carefully slipping the corsage around my wrist. The caress of his rough fingertips makes a shiver go down my spine, goosebumps left on my skin when he pulls away.

His outfit catches my attention. Normally I'd feel a little shameless for looking at him from head to toe, but after what happened earlier… I can use a distraction.

He's wearing a black blazer with a matching lace turtleneck shirt underneath that gives me a glimpse of his toned skin, making my breath hitch. A golden necklace with a pendant rests in the middle of his chest, making him look so attractive when it twinkles under the lights. And with the way his shirt is tucked into his stylish black jeans… Fuck me ten times over.

My eyes trail further down his body. He has on that expensive gold watch I saw the first time we met and elegant rings on his veiny hands. I forget to breathe remembering how it felt to be held in his strong arms...

Snapping out of my daze, my wide eyes dart back up to his, finding the sweetest of shy smiles on his lips and a pink hue to his cheeks. He just caught me checking him out and he's blushing. Adorable. Clearing my throat, I smile, feeling my own face heat up under his admiring gaze. "Not bad at all."

His soft chuckle makes me feel less embarrassed. Maybe he can tell that I'm nervous… but not what has me so nervous.

Baekhyun's tear-stained face has been haunting me all day and I barely managed to get any sleep last night. His small voice replays in my head and soft spoken words cover my skin. My face heats up and pales at the same time at the reminder of what I was thinking about not even 10 minutes ago. I had a memory of him going down on me for Christ sake! Looking up at Jackson's handsome face, I feel another wave of hot shame. Can the ground please open up and swallow me whole?

"Shall we?" Jackson asks, bring my attention back to him. He offers his elbow to me, waiting for me to lock my arm with his. Another smile forms on my face; I have to suppress a giggle bubbling in my chest. He's so sweet and gentle compared to all the other men in my life. Ugh, my poor heart is racing like crazy.

I lock the door behind me and wrap my arm around his, appreciating the firmness of his bicep as he leads us down the hallway. The taps of our respective shoes echo around the quiet hall while we wait a few minutes for the elevator to arrive. "I'm not taking too much of your time, am I?" I mumble, watching the floor numbers rise to avoid his gaze.

"Hmm?" Jackson hums, his alluring cologne hitting me when he turns his head to look at me.

"Your schedule," I elaborate, glancing at him from under my eyelashes. "I'm not infringing on your work time, am I?"

"No," He shakes his head, holding the metal doors open for me while I walk into the elevator.

"But you said you are in the middle of the most important part of filming and-" I stop, my eyes widening at the warmth on my cheeks.

"Riley." Jackson looks right into my eyes, his rough palms cradling my face. "You are not 'taking too much' of my time, alright?" He mumbles, brown eyes drifting over my features while his thumb swipes over the top of my cheek, leaving a blaze of gentle heat in its wake. "This night is for us."

My heart practically leaps out of my chest the longer I stare into his warm eyes. I break eye contact. "O-Okay," I whisper, smiling shyly.

Jackson smiles, taking my hand when the elevator doors open onto the ground floor. As we walk past the security guard in the lobby, I wonder how I look next to him… He's the same height as Baekhyun, more toned where the latter has softer edges. They both have sharp jawlines, but Jackson's cheeks are more chiseled than squishy like Baekhyun's sweet face—

"Ladies first," His low voice muses.

Lifting my head from my white high heels, I look into Jackson's eyes, realizing that his dark brown eyes don't hold the same tension Baekhyun's does when I am taller than him like this. My shyness aside, with my almost average height and tall heels, I'm a few centimeters taller than Jackson. But instead of finding that spark of insecurity I'm used to seeing in Baekhyun's eyes, Jackson looks at me as if I am the goddess who put the moon in the sky.

Stepping out into the quiet night, I look up at the stars, having to blink a few times when I see a pair of droopy brown eyes staring down at me. No. I shake my head, sighing in frustration. God, why do I see him everywhere I go?

We make our way to the parking lot on the side of the apartment complex. The silence between us isn't striffling like the one I've come to grow wary of over the past year. That piercing void full of held back frustration and heated glares...

A car unlocks in the distance, drawing my attention to a sleek black vehicle when it lights up. A Jaguar, stunning with it's cat-eye headlights and the way the engine purrs to life. The car is honestly mesmerizing, and it suits Jackson well, but my heart tugs painfully in my chest when he opens the passenger door for me and I don't see any red accessory detailing on the inside...

"You look stunning in that dress." He says when he climbs into the driver's seat, his low voice making me feel something deep in my stomach.

"T-Thank you," I blush scarlet, shifting towards the passenger window to hide my red face. It's been a long time since someone has complimented me so genuinely. I haven't felt like this since—

"Are you really that insecure?"

The memory hits me like a punch to the gut.

"You okay?" Jackson asks, his eyes shining with concern.

"Y-Yeah," I whisper, clutching onto my purse. My face hasn't cooled down since I left my apartment and I doubt it will at this rate. Between Jackson's sweet eyes and Baekhyun's teary ones that haven't left my mind, I'm royally screwed. "How's work?" 

Jackson hums. "It's good." He keeps his eyes on the road, pulling out of the parking lot. "The movie is coming along nicely."

Taking a few discrete and deep breaths, I rest my head on my arm, focusing on the low timbre of his raspy voice. "Did the tech team find any more of those files?"

"No." He shakes his head, making a left turn. "Thankfully those were the only ones," He smiles, glancing over at me; the twinkles of excitement and affection in his eyes is hard to ignore. "Now the editing team can take over."

I fight the urge to rest a hand over my heart. "The movie won't be delayed?"

"The movie won't be delayed," He confirms warmly, focusing fully on me at the next red light. His brown hair falls attractively over his forehead, casting a shadow over his dark and expressive eyes. "We'll be ahead of schedule. Everyone worked in advance while waiting for the tech team to sort through the files."

"That's good," I smile, turning my attention to our surroundings streaming past the window.

Jackson navigates us down the long Seoul streets, the city lights reflecting in his dark eyes while he steers the wheel with both hands. He looks handsome under the favor of the moonlight, the headlights of passing cars sparkling across his thin necklace. For a moment I imagine a future—an us. How it would feel to hold his calloused hands and gaze into his adoring eyes. What it would be like to wake up to his face in the mornings. That deep, raspy voice… I shiver at the thought, praying the traffic lights don't show the red hue I feel on my cheeks.

Soft and slow R&B floats from the quiet car radio, caressing my ears with its gentle melodies while Jackson turns his blinkers on. I hum, tapping along to the beat, a smile curling at my lips. It's a perfect song for a summer night like this, adding a calming atmosphere to the intimate space of Jackson's car—

"I love this song."

Baekhyun raises a brow, his eyes focused on the road as he turns up the radio with a smile. "Really?"

"Yeah." He has such a stunning side profile, I could gaze at him for hours. "I listened to a lot of their songs growing up."

"Your parents have great taste."

"Mm." The sunlight reflecting in his brown eyes has nothing on the sparkles of happiness in his shining orbs. "I guess you do too."

I sigh through my nose, shoving down the emotions budding in my chest. No matter how hard I try, memories of him continue to play in my mind. All our romantic mid-day drives and late night talks of a future we thought we had in store… Our shared hopes and dreams that went up in flames before our very eyes.

Next thing I know, Jackson is putting the car into park, the purr of the engine cutting off in exchange for the summer heat seeping in through the pause of the air conditioner.

"You ready?" He looks over at me, the urge to brush his hair out of his eyes hitting me full force.

"Yeah," I smile, curling my hand around the strap of my purse. The giddy smile he gives me in return is so damn sweet I want to cry.

Jackson steps out of the Jaguar and it doesn't take him long to round the car. He opens the passenger door for me before I realize that we've reached the restaurant.

"Thank you," I giggle in embarrassment, placing my hand in the one he offers me with another one of those adorable smiles of his. My heart skips a beat when he presses a kiss to the back of my hand while I step out onto the asphalt. If he keeps this up I'm going to have a heart attack over this softness. What the hell, why aren't there more guys like Jackson in the world? And how the hell has he been single this whole time with him out here sweeping me off my feet like this?

His widened smile and the way his eyes drift over my features has a comforting warmth settling over my beating heart. He leads the way to the restaurant, opening the door for me like the heart-fluttering gentleman he is. He's going all out on winning me over tonight and I'm loving every minute of it.

The smell of freshly baked lasagna and garlic bread has my mouth watering as we make our way up to the counter. I catch a peek at the beautifully arranged, round wooden tables under a romantic lighting in the next room.

"Reservations for Wang." Jackson's voice sounds more firm when he addresses the lady at the counter, a flicker of his director persona flashing across his face. If nothing else, one look at him and you can tell that he's about business—even for a little date like this. A first date too. It's hard fighting my adoring smile.

The receptionist checks on the computer in front of her and looks down at her clipboard, nodding with a polite smile. "Right this way," She gestures to the next room. Her black suit, matching bow tie, and crisp clean, white dress shirt add onto the expensive air of the restaurant. The food is fresh, the atmosphere is dreamy, and every surface shines brightly under the dim candle-lit lights.

The further we walk into the restaurant, the more I have to be sure not to let my jaw drop in awe. Everything about this place is magical, from the happily conversing customers to the beautiful chandeliers in the hallway. The receptionist leads us to a table in a more secluded area, the muffled chatter of the rest of the patrons coming through the velvet walls. "Your water will be out shortly," She sets the menus on the table before taking her leave with a bow.

"Allow me," Jackson murmurs, his words caressing my ear. His cologne washes over me when he walks over to the table, pulling out a chair and waiting for me with the most charming smile on his face. I can't hold my own back even if I tried.

"Thank you," I say warmly, humored and flattered beyond belief. The proximity of his hand to my bare shoulders has a pleasant shiver going down my spine. A flush forms on my face. The man has done nothing but be a gentleman and I'm over here yearning for his touch like a giddy teenager.

Jackson's scent hits me once again when he moves to take his seat. The minty smell of aftershave and a hint of his own unique manly scent has me damn near drooling and we haven't even had appetizers yet. My stomach is building tension and I doubt it has anything to do with the menu.

"How was your day?" He inquires.

I startle out of my horny musings like a cat doused in cold water. Oh shit. "It was alright," I laugh nervously, trying to keep my voice from wavering into that annoying raspy tone it gets when I'm not careful enough. "I turned in my final assignments and am awaiting my test results for the semester." 

A waiter comes to take our order, sparing me a few minutes from having to explain myself. I'm struggling to find words here. What am I supposed to say? "Oh yeah, I spent all day daydreaming about my heartbroken ex and the steamy sex we used to have." I'd die of embarrassment so damn fast. I'm appalled at myself.

"What are you studying?" His dark brown eyes are back on me when the waiter walks away. A flutter stutters in my chest under his attentive gaze.

"Business," I resist the urge to rest my chin on my palm, choosing to swirl my fork around my salad instead. "I'm working on my bachelor's degree. I want to improve my performance at work."

His eyes widen, curiosity painting on his handsome features. "What do you do?"

I smile softly. He's adorable. "I'm the Director at Park's Publishing."

"You work in a publishing house?"

"I manage the 5th floor," I share, a smirk quirking at my lips. The last thing I did this morning before going home around lunch was inform everyone about our busy schedule at the end of the month. "I miss my editing days, not gonna lie." I laugh, poking an olive. "Sorry, work kind of stresses me out."

"No," Jackson shakes his head, smiling softly, "I get it. Taking a group of people under your wing is a big responsibility."

"It's sooo difficult." Sighing, I cross my legs, the back of my heel clicking against the leg of my chair. "Since I'm not directly in charge of editing, I have to guide others and keep reminding myself that I can't do the work for them. They have to learn on their own."

"Same," He nods, swallowing a bite of Italian seasoning drenched tomato and lettuce. "I have to fight the urge to take things over that the marketing and editing teams are supposed to handle." A flicker of annoyance crosses his face, making me smile in understanding. "Good thing I'm not Ceo," He jokes. 

I laugh, thinking to myself: Yeah, thank fuck you aren't one.

When the waiter brings our food, the reminder that I haven't eaten all day stirs in my hungry stomach. I take a bite of my chicken alfredo before it can growl, closing my eyes to hide how they roll back when the gooey goodness of cheese and perfectly boiled noodle hits my tongue. Holy fuck. This food right here is the shit. If I had a meal like this more often, I'd never complain again in my life.

I find myself observing Jackson while he enjoys his own meal. He chews with his mouth closed, neatly cutting his chicken with a fork and knife. The room is quiet with only the soft music playing overhead and the sound of our silverware clicking against the pristine plates.

"I want to wake up every morning to your sleeping face curled up by my side," Baekhyun murmurs, smiling shyly.The red hue of his cheeks endearing under the dim lights. "Your hair products cluttering our dresser and your toothbrush next to mine."

"You really like cucumbers, huh?" Jackson muses.

I jolt out of my thoughts, realizing to my horror that I've been leaning over the table, picking the cucumbers from his salad. "Oh! Y-Yeah," I chuckle, my face burning scarlet. From humor or embarrassment, I have no idea. Probably both at this rate. "You could say that..."

Originally posted by sefuns

August fades seamlessly into September, urging the leaves on trees to change into red, orange, and pretty yellow hues. Gone are the dog days of summer smitting everyone from above. Now the best season of all is coming out to play, and I am all for it.

Skipping down the street in my newest yellow skater dress and nude sandals, I check the GPS on my phone to search for the street that I'm on. Today I decided that walking around aimlessly for hours was the best course of action to clear my mind, and now I've found myself in a part of Seoul that I've never been to before.

The architecture of the landscape around me is something to behold. The windows are cut out squares that only allow light to be seen from within the rooms as the sun goes down, and the buildings are curved this way and that in the most intricate of ways. It surely is a view I wouldn't mind venutring over here to see again sometime. The lively chatter of pedestrians on the sidewalk is refreshing too.

Smiling to myself, my eyes catch sight of a particular building in the distance. I quickly cross the street for a closer look. It's a giant library that looks to be 4 stories tall, showcasing a huge bookshelf on the back wall from the view of the front windows. Highly intrigued, and lowkey smitten, I step inside for a closer look.

The smell of books hits me in an instant, the young and old novels arranged neatly in little bookshelves compared to that mountain of literature on the farthest wall. There's a small cafe serving up delicious muffins to my right and a huge sitting area full of the perfect lounge chairs on my left. Crowds of people make their way to and fro between the aisles without hiccup. There's so much to do that I don't even know where to start.

Walking over to the Romance section, I skim my fingertips along the book covers, aimlessly striding down the aisle until a thin, blue book catches my eye. Curious, I move to pull it out only for another hand to beat me to it. A familiar, slender hand.

I yank my hand back at once. "Dude!" Lowering my voice, I glare at the man in front of me. "Why the hell are you always everywhere? Are you following me around or what?"

"W-What?" Baekhyun's wide brown eyes stare back at me.

"I never thought you'd resort to stalking, Baekhyun." I shake my head, brushing past him, the silver buttons of his waist-length jacket cold against my sun-kissed skin.

"I'm not fucking!" He slaps a hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm not following you around."

"Then why are you here, huh?" I keep my eyes forward, marching into the next aisle.

"Because—will you stop walking away from me?!?!?!"

I freeze, the sheer desperation in his voice roots my feet to the floor. "Why are you here, Baekhyun?" I cross my arms, shivering under the air conditioner overhead.

"Hannam-dong library extraordinaire," He utters, his shadow moving closer as I tense up. "You put it on the bucket list. The one we made together." Hope pours out from his every word, his painfully slow footsteps seeming to stem from the faint memories crowding his mind. "You listed every place you wanted to go and w-we, we never…" He stops when his voice cracks, clearing his throat. "You made a copy by hand so we'd always have it," He mumbles sadly. "I guess it's meaningless now."

Emotions grip at my throat and tears threaten to fill my eyes. I slowly turn around, snatching the book out of his hands. "Give me that." Flickering my eyes up to his hurt-filled eyes, I gesture to the sitting area with my chin. "Follow me."

Baekhyun follows behind me without a word, shuffling his boots noisily on the carpeted floor. I have half the mind to tell him about it until I remember where we are—in a library and in life. Biting my tongue, I plop down into the longest couch available, staring at his nervous figure when he doesn't join me. "Come on!" I snap, throwing a pillow at him that he's quick to catch. "Sit your ass down, I don't got all day." I grumble, opening the blue book. "I came here to read and I plan to do so."

A few moments go by, nothing but the quiet chatter of visitors and the coffee pot whistling on the other side of the room fills the air. Just when my heart drops at the thought of him being gone, a weight sinks down into the couch next to me. I look to see Baekhyun in a grey sweater, his jacket left on the back of the chair. His eyes are closed and neck is bare while resting his head on the back of the couch. Silver locks of hair messily dangle on his forehead, long eyelashes caressing the tops of his cheeks. I frown at the lack of fluff I find there, his mother's words a distant whisper in my ear.

Baekhyun makes me jump when he peeks an eye open, opening the other before blinking slowly at me. "I'm listening," He murmurs softly, keeping those expressive brown eyes on me.

My heart skips a beat. Smiling to myself, I focus back on the book in my hands, flipping to the first page and beginning to read aloud.

•••

Weeks fly by once mid September hits, endless clusters of colored leaves blowing away in its wind. The sun rises later in the day and sets at a different angle at night, casting warm shadows over my bedroom window that never fail to bring a smile to my face. Everything about this time of year puts me in high spirits. The weather is perfect for my velvety outfits and the annoying ass bugs are finally starting to go away. It's a calm, homey fairytale land full of sweet breezes and mid autumn adventures.

I lean over my vanity while painstakingly applying my red lipstick in the mirror, smoothing it out with care. My makeup for tonight goes well with my newest party dress, a burgundy velvet, off the shoulder piece with a deep v neck. It has long puffed sleeves with fitted cuffs that wrap comfortably around my wrists and a matching belt to emphasize the hourglass shape of my waist. The thick material is perfect for early October, the nights beginning to get just the littlest bit colder.

Humming to myself, I carefully put on my gold dangling earrings, smiling at the reflection of my wavy hair. Just letting it air dry with curling irons in it for a few minutes ended up with the subtle result. I'm attending one of Jackson's infamous parties tonight as his date, not his seducer. Although, I don't need to get all dolled up to impress him anyway. Batting my eyelashes and looking intensely into his deep, dark brown eyes is enough.

This time around, I'm prepared for the knock on my door. Two months of various dates has sunk a certain time into my core. 10pm on the dot. Punctual as always. My red painted lips quirk up at the thought. With one last glance into my vanity mirror, I spin around on my one-inch, open-toed black heels, strutting over to open the door and whistling at the sight.

Jackson smiles, looking hot as hell in his black blazer and thin gold chain with no shirt underneath. His muscular thighs look amazing in his tight jeans, and with his brown hair brushed back with a few strands of hair attractively left on his forehead…

"You look gorgeous," He murmurs, planting a kiss on my forehead while I'm distracted by his two sets of gold earrings.

I smile coyly, tucking my finger in his necklace and tugging on it lightly. "You're not so bad yourself."

Conversations between us flow more easily over the past few months. I show him my sass and he throws it right back, making me laugh every time. His attractive mind comes up with the most astounding ideas and points of view. There are many different sides to him as well. His confident, professional way of handling business to how he likes to roll over on my couch to rest his head in my lap and look up at me with those dark brown puppy eyes. 

Things are easy—that's just how it is with Jackson. It's a nice change from the complicated men in my life. He's adorable and sexy all in one.

The clicks of my heels echo across the sidewalk as we walk up to the frat house, my hand wrapped around his bicep. The party is just starting to pick up it seems; a fair amount of party goers are streaming in the front double doors.

"I want to introduce you to someone," Jackson perks up the moment we reach the entrance.

"Really?" I bat my eyes at him, stepping closer when someone brushes past us in a hurry. "Well, I'm down for that."

He smiles, holding the door open for me. I softly squeeze his bicep before letting him go, walking into his alumni house for the first time in almost a year. Last December I was crossing this same threshold with Jenny by my side, can you believe that? A lot can happen in 10 months, and I can't wait for what's in store for me.

"Jackson!" A deep voice reaches us over the loud music and growing crowd. I can barely make out a figure under all the neon lights, beckoning us over. Jackson's cologne washes over me before I feel his arm brush against my back.

"Let's go," He takes my hand in his, a smile audible in his raspy voice. I follow his lead, swiveling my head around to take in the view of the house. Just as I thought, everything is impeccably arranged. From the mini bar in the back corner to the DJ booth, it screams Jackson. Charming. Intelligent. And expensive. Even with the clumsy party attendees stumbling around.

He turns the corner on the right side of the hallway, following the medium-build figure walking down to a slightly ajar door at the end of the hall. The chatter from within the small room comes to a halt when the stranger pushes open the door.

"Took you long enough, Tuan!" A high-pitched, bubbly voice laughs, their plump lips smiling in amusement.

The man we've been following turns around, smiling while 5 other pairs of eyes land on us. "Hey, man."

"Mark," Jackson steps forward for a bro hug, clapping a hand over the raven's back. He goes around to do the same and fist bumps the other men in the room before standing next to me again. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

All of them smile, curiosity and friendliness coming off of them in waves—except for one.

Yugyeom sits with his legs crossed in the far corner of the room, smirking while leaning his head in his hand. I make a point to ignore him, shaking everyone's hand with my most polite smile. Their compliments of my dress has me blushing all the way up to my ears. Thankfully the dim lights hide it from view.

Jackson and I take a spot on the only available couch in the cozy room, sitting between Mark and another man with sharp cat-like eyes and a barbell piercing.

"Is this your first party?" The latter asks, swirling the brown alcohol in his glass.

"No," I smile, way too aware of Yugyeom's stare burning into the side of my head. I carefully open a can of beer that Jackson hands to me, taking a long sip.

"Huh," He takes a swing of his drink while I lean my head onto Jackson's shoulder. "Why haven't I seen you around before?"

"I have," Yugyeom joins in, smirking and wiggling his eyebrows at me from over the rim of his glass. My eye twitches. Yeah, I see why this little shit and Jenny broke up.

I quietly observe everyone while the night carries on, the faint bass from the music down the hallway vibrating through the floor. Jackson catches up with his "brothers," in the meantime, updating them on the progress of his film. My eyes lazily sweep over the well-furnished room, the edges of my vision turning blurry. I make sure that the next two cans of beer that I drink aren't open when they are handed to me.

Sometime around midnight, I loosen up, the buzz of alcohol rushing through my veins prompting me to lose my filter. Between BamBam with the plush lips playful banter and the juicy tales of Jaebum's romantic conquests, I'm positively beaming, chatting without a care with my legs draped over Jackson's lap.

Mark cracks a joke that sends me reeling, nearly falling off of the couch if it wasn't for the man next to me, wrapping a strong arm around my waist. I hide my face in the crook of his neck, taking in his vanilla scent. The hint of citrus on his honey-toned skin has warmth spreading over my chest, the image of his sweet, brown puppy eyes printed behind my eyelids.

I laugh until I realize how dead silent the room has gotten. Lifting my head, I look around before tugging lightly on Jackson's sleeve. "Hey..." I murmur with difficulty, growing unnerved under their piercing stares. "What's-"

"Let's call it a night," He mutters, not meeting my eye.

Snapping my mouth shut, I nod, wondering what I did wrong while he bids everyone goodnight. I stand up with the help of his hand on my arm, guiding me over to the doorway that seems to be tilting to the side.

"Hey…" I try again, focusing hard on putting one foot in front of the other. What happened…? Did I laugh too hard? React too dramatically? Is there a piece of fruit stuck between my teeth? I knew I shouldn't have had that parfait before—

Jackson pulls aside me to an empty corner shielded by large plants in the hallway. His lips part a few times before he presses them into a thin line. "You just called me Baekhyun," He mutters, clenching his jaw.

Oh. I sober up in a heartbeat. "S-Shit, I-" The color drains from my face the longer I gaze into his disappointed dark brown eyes. I can feel tears filling my own. "I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine." His stiff posture says otherwise and I've never seen such a hard expression on his features before. "I'll drive you home."

"Wait…" Resting my hand on his arm, I brace myself with a racing heart for the backlash I'll get for what I'm about to ask. "C-Can you drop me off somewhere instead?"

•••

The car ride into the heart of Seoul is stifling. I can't recall us ever being like this… let alone having Jackson angry with me. His grip on the steering wheel has his knuckles turning white, the clench of his jaw concerning me as well. I can only blame myself, swearing inwardly for coming out tonight. 

This wasn't supposed to happen… None of this was. The Baekhyun; the shy smiles; the longing. The Yugyeom; the drinking; the nerves... If I could go back in time, I never would have gone to that frat party last year. I would have stayed at Jenny's apartment, bonding over skincare routines and shitty tv shows. But no... I had to go out that December night, and now I am facing the consequences.

It's taking everything in me just to hold back my tears.

"We're here." Jackson speaks up after an hour of silence, nothing but the zooming cars and lively nightlife filling up the empty space from beyond the tinted windows. It does little to ease the tension in the car—it only seems to build when he pulls up to the curb, leaving the engine running.

A lump forms in my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can't even face him right now. By the cold look in his eyes, I know there is no use trying to talk to him. I can't even defend myself. There's only one explanation for what happened earlier, and it's the most shitty one of all... 

Baekhyun.

On my mind; in my thoughts; in my heart. The way his long eyelashes brush the top of his glowy cheeks and the world swirling in his sparkly brown eyes when he looks at me. Everywhere I go, I see him, feel him, and wish he was there… From the darkest crevices of my anxious mind to the deepest depths of my beating heart.

No matter where I turn. No matter how much I try. There is only one man in the world for me in this lifetime. There is only one name my soul cries out for… and it isn't the one next to me.

I swallow hard, my heart aching for Jackson. The telling shine of tears reflected in his brown eyes can't be hidden when a truck drives past, revealing the vulnerability in his dark eyes. I hate that things are ending this way. The pounding of my head and sour taste on the back of my tongue are only reminders of how much I've messed up tonight.

Working up my nerve, I step out of his Jaguar, ducking my head back inside with a tight grip on the door.

"Thank you," I whisper over the loud crickets and crying tree frogs, "For everything." Sighing shakily, I crack one last smile as a tear rolls down my cheek. "Thank you for showing me how wonderful life can be."

Jackson turns his head, regarding me with teary, fire-filled eyes. His throat bobs and he manages a small smile in return, nodding slowly. "The pleasure is all mine, Riley."

With a pounding heart, I close the car door with care, walking onto the curb. I look back over my shoulder one more time when I reach the doors of the apartment complex, watching him drive off with a sad smile. The quiet night wraps around me, bringing me little comfort against the bitter cold that I feel inside of my heart. What if I'm making a mistake? I just walked away from the only man who treated me the way I deserve… A stable, well off man for a broken, world shattering one.

A million thoughts race through my mind while climbing the stairs to his apartment, my hand clutching onto the railing for dear life. What if he's not home? What if I'm too late? What if he's finally moved on and I'm the only one still stuck in the past? Still stuck on us?

Tears spring to my eyes, making it hard to see the wobbly steps with my blurred vision, but I carry on, one step at a time. Something tugs deep in my chest—a gut feeling. One that has me pausing from the sheer force behind it.

Baekhyun is my home, and he is waiting for me.

I break out into a run, nearly slipping on the last step before I reach the landing of the fourth floor, swinging the stairway door open so hard it collides with the wall. My heels pound against the marble floor until I trip over something, slamming my head on his door. The resounding thud echoes across the silent walls and the door is yanked open within seconds.

His wide, shock-filled brown eyes stare at me from the doorway, with his messy silver hair and a white wrinkled t-shirt.

I all but throw myself at him.

Baekhyun gasps, catching me before I fall. "Riley, I-"

"No." I shake my head, hugging him tighter, my voice wavering. "You listen to me." Looking up into his brown eyes, I cup his warm cheeks in my cold hands. "I don't care how long it takes, I don't care how much my heart breaks." My chin wobbles, salty tears streaming like a waterfall down my face, but nothing else matters. Nothing can hurt me when I'm in his comforting embrace.

"If it's not with you, I don't want it," I breathe, staring deep into his glimmering eyes. "Do you hear me? You can break my heart a million times, and I can do the same." Swiping a tear from under his eye, I cradle his face in my palm, painting his vulnerable expression into memory. "As long as we mend it back together, we will be okay." I nod, looking between his wide eyes. "We will get through this." I state firmly, melting against him when he tightens his hold on my waist. "We are in this together. Okay?" His silence is worrying me… "B?"

"Are you…" He slowly reaches up, cupping my cold cheek in his warm hand, his frantic brown eyes searching mine for answers. "Are you really here?" He whispers.

"Yes." I watch the light begin to return to his tired eyes. "I'm here, Baekhyun." I pull him closer, squeezing him in my arms, his racing heart beating in sync with mine. "I'm here." My heart drops when he pulls away.

Baekhyun shakes his head, moving his hand from my cheek to take mine into his. "I'm stubborn, insecure, and possessive." He mutters, gazing right into my eyes, determination written all over his face. "I'm… I'm annoying, overbearing, and a workaholic."

I give him my softest, loving smile. "Well, me too." Slowly reaching for him again, I paint my name on his honey-toned skin with my fingertips. "Let's be fucked up together, hmm?"

"I…" He sighs, resting his forehead on mine, staring lovingly and worriedly into my eyes. "I don't want you to regret this."

"I won't," I murmur, tracing three little words across his collarbones. "If I do, we'll fight and then have makeup sex."

Baekhyun chokes. "You're terrible." He coughs, patting his chest, the red hue on his cheeks more endearing than ever before.

I shrug, smiling at him. "When it comes to you?" Sliding my hand up his chest, I tangle my fingers in his messy hair, hovering my lips over his, "I am many things."

•••

It's funny; how easy it is to fall back into him. His loving arms and secure embrace. Every day spent with him slowly mends the cracks in my fragile heart, filling them with the most everlasting remedy of all. Love.

Time is endless when I am with him. Moments become weeks. Seconds turn into hours. Being with Baekhyun makes any taxing and mundane task into a precious activity that I'd love to do again—just because it's him.

Our dynamic has changed, even the air around us is new. We talk about everything. We face problems head on. A few arguments break out sometimes because we are two stubborn individuals, but those aren't a problem now. No big fights. No tearing into each other. I may call him an asshole and he'll rebuke with that I'm being a bitch, (which I am more often than not,) but at the end of the day. When the tension is gone and our sad eyes lock from across the room. We work things out and fall more in love with each other, no matter the struggle we've been through.

—Like right now.

"Perfect," I laugh bitterly, taking out my earrings while storming into the living room. "Fucking perfect."

"Riley," Baekhyun sighs, closing the door.

"No. Fuck this." I spit heatedly, throwing my hands up. "You always do this bullshit. Every time I go out you have something to say. What is it, huh? Why you always got to be up in my shit-"

Turning to him, I'm met by tired brown eyes, his hands falling limply to his sides. "Can we talk this out?" He asks softly, eyes pleading. "I rather hold you than fight."

Still huffing and puffing, I stare into his puppy eyes and sad pout. Without a word, I march over to him, tucking myself under his chin and wrapping my arms around his waist.

"I get it, okay? I have no problems with you going out with your friends." He mumbles into my hair, kissing my head. "I just want to make sure you are safe. Call me, text me, send me a pic to let me know that you're alright." He pulls back a little to cup my face in his hands, staring deep into my eyes. "You're my baby," He whispers, brushing frustrated tears from my cheeks. "If something ever happened to you I wouldn't be able to live with myself. Please understand where I'm coming from."

"Okay." I mumble against his shoulder, hiding more in his vanilla scent. "...I'm sorry for going off on you."

"Shh," Baekhyun hugs me tighter, surrounding me in his warmth and tangling his fingers in my hair. "I trust you, okay?" He nuzzles in my hair, sighing softly. "It's the rest of the world that I don't."

I love him. I love him with every part of me. If I had the chance to go back in time, I'd choose to meet him every time. Even on days where I have to walk out of his apartment to catch a breather. Those cold nights where I stubbornly shiver on his balcony until he comes out to place his jacket on my shoulders. And the times I ask myself why the hell I'm fighting with him over which color we should switch his window curtains into again. Despite all the good and the bad. The happiness and earth shattering agony. I wouldn't change it for the world.

"Are you cold?" Baekhyun mumbles, bringing the back of my hand to his cheek.

"I'm fine, B," I reassure, ignoring the goosebumps that erupt on my skin. From his loving touch or the cold bite of the November air, I have no idea. Most likely both.

"You're shivering." He points out, already struggling off his jacket before I can respond. "I told you it would be cold today."

"I wanted to take the risk, okay?" I sigh, smiling into the cinnamon scented fabric he places on my shoulders.

"It's the middle of November," He murmurs with a shake of his head, tucking our joined hands into the pocket of his jeans.

"Maybe," I mumble in amusement, beaming at him and batting my eyelashes. "But you love this dress on me. Admit it." Today I'm wearing a royal blue summer dress. The weather may be shifting from windy fall to bitter winter, but that won't stop me from rocking this sleeveless, v neck, shirt dress with a tie around my waist.

Baekhyun's eyes shift away from the red crosswalk light ahead to look me over, taking his time with a little cheeky smile on his face. "Well," He murmurs, mischief shining in his sparkly brown eyes. "I can't deny that."

I giggle, ignoring the warmth on my cheeks when he softly squeezes my hand, leading the way as we cross the street. I've missed this feeling: walking hand and hand—our fingers interwtined and young hearts racing as one. Not even the chilly wind can ruin the mood I'm in—I just tuck myself closer to his side.

Baekhyun hums, wrapping his arm around me, pulling me closer when a group of children come running down the sidewalk. The shrill voice of their scolding mother has us sharing a knowing look, smiling shyly. Yeah, nothing quite gets better than this.

"Riley?"

I stiffen, that low, raspy voice shakes me to my very core.

Baekhyun's brown eyes shoot to mine in an instant. "Baby?" He murmurs, a worried frown on his face as he leans to my ear. "Do you know him?"

"Um-" I avoid his eyes, holding onto the hem of his shirt for dear life. "I- Uh-"

A shadow falls over us before a figure walks around to face us, and those dark brown puppy eyes have never looked so solemn. Fuck.

"Jackson Wang?" Baekhyun blinks, sending me into an internal panic. "Hey, man," He smiles, going in for a handshake. "Long time no see. How's the movie?"

Jackson's brown eyes stare into mine before he looks down at Baekhyun's hand. "Good."

Baekhyun frowns, retracting his hand, confusion written all over his face.

"Hey, fancy seeing you here," I manage a small, polite smile, my heart racing nervously when Jackson pulls the towel from around his neck, his dark brown eyes landing back on me. "What you up to?" I tilt my head, resting a hand on Baekhyun's back.

"Out for a jog," Jackson shrugs, the fabric of his black t-shirt sticking to his damp skin. His eyes track how Baekhyun reaches back to take my hand into his. "I was supposed to play basketball with the guys," He continues sourly, "But they blew me off."

"Ah…" I purse my lips, straining another smile. "I hope you all can meet up soon."

He nods, the clench of his jaw and unreadable look in his eyes telling me all that I need to know.

"Well!" Resting my hand on Baekhyun's bicep, I risk a glance at him, unnerved at the equally hard to read expression on his features. "Baekhyun and I will be heading out now. We have reservations to make."

Jackson merely nods, his eyes burning into the back of my head as I lead Baekhyun around him. "See you around, Riley."

Cursing under my breath, I shoot him one last smile over my shoulder, urging Baekyun to walk faster. I hold my breath until we turn the corner onto the next street. "Geez what a mess," I mutter, loosening my death grip on his hand.

Baekhyun continues to securely hold onto my hand and his calm, quiet reaction has me more anxious than all the fights we've had combined. "B-Baekhyun?" I ask tentatively, trying to read his side profile. "Are you okay?" The way his silence stretches out is killing me. "B?"

"Well," He mumbles, nudging a stray rock on the ground. "Jackson is nice. He seems cool."

Uh oh. "Baekhyun-"

"No no, it's fine." He shakes his head. "I see the appeal, you know?" He looks over at me, smiling sadly. "Sharp jawline, muscular, more manly than I'll ever-"

I pull him into the nearest alleyway for privacy before facing him head on, resting my hands on his chest. "You know I only want you, right B?"

"I-I do, I just-" If the kicked puppy expression on his face was for anything else, I'd find it endearing. "He's so well put together and-"

I promptly press my lips to his, pulling back after a few moments with a raised brow. "Better?"

Baekhyun's lips part a few times, the open expression on his face cute as hell. He makes a small noise and hugs me close, sealing my lips in another kiss.

After that day, the ice has broken between us—the last wall I had built up came crumbling down. Hiding from Baekhyun isn't needed anymore. The reassurance that we can actually talk about things instead of letting tension build is all I could ask for, alongside his love and time of course. If only I could be with him tonight.

Mrs. Park wanted me to attend a press conference or whatever with her out of the blue, saying something about it being "a big deal" and "very important" that I be there. So here I am, accessing my options for the night.

Three different outfits cover the entirety of my bed, each bringing forth a slightly different mood from the last. The first one is my trusty go-to, below the knee length dress. A simple black piece of material that's flattering for my figure without exposing my wild side. The second outfit is a basic black blazer, white dress shirt, and black dress pants—the bore of all boring clothing. Nothing wrong with it, but I'm not feeling really "plain and dull" tonight.

Now, the third option is one to behold.

A dress that is a combination between the two: a long sleeved, low cut, black dress with pretty lace for the left sleeve and solid material on the right that wraps over more lace underneath. The perfect mix of femininity and authority. I think I know which outfit is the one for me. 

Slipping into the warm material with ease, I grab my car keys and head out to meet Mrs. Park at the venue. The thought of sending Baekhyun a text crosses my mind while taking the elevator. Now that I think about it, I haven't heard from him all day. Where he at?? Is he still working late or did my comment about him never cooking a meal in his life hurt his feelings last night? If I wasn't piled up to my ears with paperwork all day I would have stopped by his office to have lunch…

Frowning to myself, I keep both my hands on the steering wheel, leaving my phone untouched in my purse on the passenger floor. Worried or not, I'm not even going to pull out my phone at the next red light. In a big city like Seoul, it's best not to take any chances, if any for that matter.

I navigate down the bright streets with ease, thankful that my GPS is cooperating with me today. Within an hour of traffic jams and watching out for jaywalkers on the street, I'm pulling into the parking lot of the venue. And with Mrs. Park leaning against the hood of her car, she isn't hard to find.

Making a three point turn, I back up into the parking space next to hers, not up for the hassle of dealing with gold digger assholes who will want me to hit them with my car later. Seoul or the South, the bullshitty ways of the road aren't that different.

"Hey," Mrs. Park smiles when I step out of my Porshe, dressed to the nines in her black pantsuit. She tilts her head towards the venue, the twinkle of her diamond earrings catching in the bright streetlights. "You ready to go?"

I walk around to her side to retrieve my purse from my car, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Yes, ma'am."

She smirks, a knowing look in her eye before locking her car. "Let's go."

Eyeing her warily, I follow her to the grand building, the clicks of our heels echoing across the pavement. For a moment the silence around us has me worrying if we are late until I see a red carpet surrounded by paparazzi in the far distance. What the hell?

"What exactly are we attending?" I ask carefully.

"A press conference," She doesn't miss a beat, glancing over at me. "Don't look so scared."

"I-"

"Smile," She continues, smiling reassuringly, "Just be yourself."

Sighing softly, I nod, preparing myself for anything. I trust Mrs. Park a lot, but if her cheeky son is anything to go by, I might be walking into something right now. And I have no idea what is awaiting me.

The clicks of the flashing cameras become more audible as we approach, a dozen cameramen throwing questions at us at once. I just smile, making sure all my sides are my best side while walking down the red carpet. Mrs. Park dodges their questions with ease, falling into step with me. We enter the open double doors of the venue without a hitch and the sight on the inside takes my breath away.

Floor to ceiling windows occupy the spacious hall with rows upon rows of velvet covered seats and a chandelier sparkling overhead. The stage at the far back has the first set of burgundy curtains drawn, showing a microphone stand. What kind of press conference is this? The amount of seating astounds me, let alone when Mrs. Park walks us right up to the front row.

I have so many questions to ask, but I just sit down in the seat at the end of the row, on the left side closest to the stairs leading up to the stage.

"Are we early?" I crane my neck around, watching other sharply dressed businessmen and women slowly fill up the venue.

"No." Mrs Park shakes her head as the lights dim down, smiling knowingly. "We're right on time."

Before I can reply, something shiny catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I turn my head to face the stage, my eyes widening at the silver haired man walking out onto the stage.

"Good evening, everyone." Baekhyun's honey-smooth voice echoes around the hall. He struts over to the mic stand with a white microphone in hand, his Ceo aura and chosen outfit for the night taking my breath away.

He's wearing a sparkly black blazer with a black button-down shirt underneath, the first few buttons undone. The sleeves of his jacket have a glittery gold embroidery design shaped like a crown and there's a matching necklace resting around his shoulders, twinkling alluringly under the dim lights. His snug black jeans and heeled boots nearly have me on the floor. Pardon my French but—step on me please? 

I gulp, sitting back in my seat while Baekhyun commands the stage. He has the whole crowd wrapped around his finger with every charming smile and deep chuckle he sends our way. I graciously accept a glass of wine from a waiter and cross my legs, too busy admiring him to listen to a word he says. It's been a while since I've had the pleasure to see this kind of view.

Baekhyun continues to speak to the crowd, coaxing adoring 'ah's' and the occasional applause. I lose my sense of time the longer he gives his speech, idly swirling my drink around my glass. I've barely drank half of it by the time the event starts coming to an end.

"Everyone." Baekhyun's voice rings over the murmuring crowd, clasping his hands together over the microphone, a soft smile playing at his lips. "If I can have a moment of your time, I'd like to say a few things before we wrap up."

My eyes widen to the size of saucers when he says my name, holding a hand out for me to take. I look around, narrowing my eyes at Mrs. Park's smiling figure. The wink she sends my way tells me everything that I need to know.

Everyone else in the crowd starts looking around, some of them settling their eyes onto me. I take a final sip of my wine and slowly set my glass down in the cup holder next to me. With one last breath and a weary glance, I approach the stage, the clicks of my heels echoing around the room.

The closer I get to Baekhyun's beaming face, the more my heart pounds, butterflies erupting in my stomach. But the moment my cold hand is securely in his, all of it fades away. With Baekhyun, I know I am safe.

He smiles, looking me over with affection shining in his eyes. "Everyone, meet my girlfriend." He announces into the microphone, softly squeezing my hand and facing the crowd again. "She didn't expect to be here tonight..." He trails off, smiling sheepishly. "I'll probably be getting an earful later." He chuckles, joining everyone in their brief laughter while I shoot him a look that screams 'you're damn right.' "But for now," He continues, settling his sparkly brown eyes back onto me, "I have something important to say."

Baekhyun takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. "If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't be standing here today." He squeezes my hand again, flickering his eyes back open to stare into mine. The warmth and undeniable love swirling within them sends my heart into overdrive. "If it wasn't for her patience, care and timeless, endless bounds of love." He sighs softly, smiling so sweetly while wrapping an arm around my waist before turning us both to the second set of curtains. "I wouldn't be here to present the newest clothing line."

The curtains go up and my jaw drops at the sight.

A huge glass container stands in the middle of the stage, showcasing mannequins wearing various articles of clothing. Soft looking blue sweaters, comfy jogging pants, black leggings with white embroidery flowers on the ends, and short jean shorts. There are over a dozen different clothes on display with the letter 'R' scripted on the front in beautiful cursive, but what really captures my attention is the red dress. Front and center. 

The backless, sleeveless burgundy mermaid dress covered in sparkly jewels from start to finish, twinkling prettily under the dim lights while spun around on its high-rise platform.

"This goes out to Riley." Baekhyun hugs me close, making me grateful that I'm facing away from the crowd when tears spring to my eyes. He smiles shyly while gazing at me with those warm brown eyes. "The woman of my dreams and love of my life."

I stare right back into those deep brown pools of love, biting the inside of my cheek to keep my chin from wobbling. Not able to take it anymore, I cup his glowy cheeks in my hands, pressing my lips to his.

•⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •⇔♦ •

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3  P(1) P(2) | Part 4 P(1) P(2) | Part 5 P(1)  P(2) | Part 6 P(1)  P(2) —– P(3)  P(4) —– P(5)  P(6) | ♬♩♪♩ FINALE P(1)✓  P(2)

A/N: This was a mouthful, don’t mind me, I’m formatting the other 9k 😭💗

[yourlocalfictionalenthusiast]

IN LIFE, IN DEATH..

Part Two

Part One

Warnings: swearing

‘Carefully, you reached towards the piano and tried to touch a vase of flowers but they passed right through your fingers. Your entire hand went numb then a tingly feeling spread throughout your body.

Well, two things were for sure.

You were definitely back, but you were definitely dead.’

-

“(Y/n)?”

Alex appeared by your side, pulling your hand away from the vase that you couldn’t seem to stop sticking your hand through.

You had been so distracted, you didn’t realize that the girl had come back until you heard her scream. Alex covered his ears and shouted over the noise.

“Please stop screaming!” He shouted.

She did, but she kept eyeing the four of you suspiciously. 

She was holding a cross out as she slowly stepped into the room. Her eyes were still wide with fear but she stood her ground. “Who are you and what are you doing in my mom’s studio?”

Luke gave her a look of confusion as he stepped forward. “Your mom’s studio? No, this is our studio.”

He yelped as she came at him with the cross. He jumped up on the piano and slid across the surface. “The grand piano is new, and-”

Luke cut himself off suddenly and in a fit of excited giggles, he ran towards the other side of the room. “My couch!”

You watched as he ran his hands over the worn leather, a dreamy look on his face. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but laugh a little. After your time in the dark room, it was comforting to see some things never change.

Luke’s eyes flickered up to the ceiling, his eyebrows knitting together as he inspected the lights and chairs hanging down and you were reminded that more things had changed than stayed the same.

You decided you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to get to the bottom of this. And to do that, you needed the boys to focus for more than a few seconds.

“Boys, can I see you over here for a minute?” You said, gently leading Alex and Reggie away and gesturing for Luke to follow before turning back to the frightened girl.

“Excuse us for a second.”

You gave her an apologetic smile and shuffled over to the other side of the garage with the boys in tow. Once you got far enough away, Luke frantically whispered. “What is going on? How did she get her stuff in here so fast?”

“Maybe she’s a witch. I mean, chairs are floating on the ceiling.” Reggie exclaimed. You could feel Alex glaring at him as you placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“There’s no such thing as witches, Reg.” You said.

“You sure? Cause I used to think that there was no such thing as ghosts.”

Alex nodded reluctantly. “That’s fair.”

“Okay,” Luke butted in, “So, we’re going with witch?”

“No!” Alex scoffed. “We’re not going with witch. Look, she’s just scared. Let someone with a softer touch handle this.”

He turned towards the girl and approached her slowly before practically yelling in her face. “Why are you in our studio?!”

“Real soft, Al.” You whispered to him before extending your hand out to her, wincing at the awkwardness once you realized that like the vase, you probably couldn’t touch her either.

“I’m really sorry we scared you. I’m-”

Before you could finish, she jabbed her arms forward until the cross went clean through your chest. The tingling sensation came back in full force and you resisted the urge to shiver.

“Oh my gosh! How did you do that?” Her eyes were wide and unblinking as she stared at you.

“Clearly she doesn’t get it.” Alex said, turning back to the boys and then back to her, obviously exasperated. “We’re ghosts, okay? We’re just four ghosts who are really happy to be home.”

“We’re actually in a band called Sunset Curve.” Luke explained, his tone full of pride like it always was when he talked about the band.

“Tell your friends!” Reggie piped up with his signature line and you snorted. It was nice to know that even in death, Reggie was still the best hype-man.

“Last night was supposed to be a big night for us.” Luke said. “It was supposed to change our lives.”

“I’m pretty sure it did.” Alex interjected.

“This is freaking me out!” The girl shouted, keeping one hand held out towards you with the cross and the other pulling something out of her back pocket which she began frantically tapping on.

“What is that?” Luke asked, and the girl rolled her eyes.

“It’s my phone.” She cursed herself and shook her head. “No! Stop talking to them. They aren’t real. There is no such thing as cute ghosts.”

Reggie flashed her a dopey smile. “You think we’re cute?”

You rolled your eyes and Alex leaned forward. “Who are you calling?”

“I’m googling Sunset Swerve.”

You couldn’t help the surprised giggle that escaped your mouth as the boys groaned in unison. “Sunset Curve!”

Over Alex’s shoulder, you could see the bright screen of her phone as she pulled up an article. At the top was your professional band picture you had taken a year before the Orpheum. Luke was goofing around and playing Alex’s leg like a guitar while you stood by his side, sticking a finger in Bobby’s ear.

“Whoa.” She muttered. “There is a Sunset Curve and you did die. But not last night.”

You tried to keep your composure as she turned to look at the four of you, the fear in her eyes replaced with a small trace of sympathy. “25 years ago?”

“What? No, that’s impossible. After we floated out of the ambulance all we did was go to that dark room where these two cried.” Reggie gestured between you and Alex.

“Well, I think we were all pretty upset.” Alex said in his high pitched voice that usually made you laugh, but the mention of the dark room made you remember your moment with Luke. You turned around to look at him only to find him several feet behind you, eyes focused on a spot on the wall just past you. 

The fact that he was still avoiding you didn’t escape you, but you forced yourself to swallow the sad feeling and focus on the issue at hand.

“But that was just for like an hour.” Luke said. Despite the tension between you, the sound of his worried tone made your heart ache. “We just showed up here.”

The girl sighed. “I’m just telling you what my phone says. You died in 1995 when you were 17. It’s now 2020.”

“So, this is the future?” Reggie asked.

Your head was spinning. There was no way it had been that long, right?

“It’s really been 25 years? I’ve been crying for 25 years, how is that possible!?” Alex shouted. You rubbed his back softly.

“You’re an emotional person.” Reggie shrugged.

“I am not!” He said, his high-pitched voice coming back as he pouted.

Just then, an unfamiliar voice chimed in. “I thought you were too afraid to come out here.” 

You turned around to see a kid standing in the doorway, smiling as he came into the room. “You talking to your ghost friend? Is he hideous?”

“He can see you.” Alex snorted, bumping Reggie with his shoulder.

“No, he can’t.” The girl blurted, receiving a weird look from the younger kid.

She asked him what he wanted and he rolled his eyes. “A normal sister for starters, now stop being weird and come eat.”

The girl blinked at the garage doors her brother had just exited from before looking back at Alex. “He couldn’t see you.”

“Well, yeah. That’s kinda how ghosts work.” Alex said.

The girl huffed and marched towards the doors, spinning on her heels to face you again. “Look, I’m sorry for what happened to you guys, but this isn’t your studio anymore. You have to leave.”

“Wait.” Luke took a step towards her. “We didn’t get your name.”

“It’s Julie.”

“Cool.” Luke smiled. “I’m Luke, by the way, and this is…”

“Reggie! Hey.”

“I’m Alex, how’s it going?”

“I’m (Y/n).” You waved to her awkwardly as Luke stretched out his arms and made a little ‘tad-da’ sound.

“Okay...” Julie said before disappearing out the doors.

“Julie seems nice.” Reggie said brightly, making Alex sigh.

“Did you miss the part where she kicked us out?”

As you patted Reggie’s shoulder, your eyes drifted up to the loft where you could see the outline of more instruments. “Alex, aren’t those your drums?”

Alex followed your gaze and poofed up to the loft. “All of our instruments are up here!”

Luke immediately shot up from the couch where he had been sulking and faced you and Reggie with a mischievous grin on his face.

Half an hour later, you had your instruments set up in the middle of the room. Once it all came together, you could almost convince yourself you were back in the old studio having a normal band practice. The boys must have felt the same way because before you know it, you were singing as loud as you could as Luke played the opening of ‘Long Weekend’

You got lost in the music, smiling and dancing around. Even though it felt like it had only been a few hours since you sang at the soundcheck, it had been 25 years. It was as if everything you didn’t get to feel in all that time started pouring out.

You felt like you were floating - and not in the ghost kind of way. 

It wasn’t until you heard Julie’s annoyed rambles that you came back to reality. You stopped singing and the boys followed, though Luke couldn’t resist doing an extra few riffs on his guitar.

“The whole neighborhood can hear you!” Julie yelled. “I thought I told you to leave.”

“Wait, people can hear us play?” Luke asked. Your stomach fluttered with hope as Julie sighed.

“Yes! And so did my dad and my brother.”

Alex stood up from his drums. “So, only you can see us, but everyone can hear us? What kind of ghosts are we?”

Luke gave him a fistbump. “Who cares, man? People can hear us play!”

Suddenly, the door swung open and a man stepped in.

Julie smiled nervously. “Dad!”

“Hey, I was just making sure you’re okay.” He smiled.

“I’m fine. I just had to turn off the CD player.”

Julie’s dad nodded before turning around and looking at your instruments. “Is this the junk that was in the loft?”

“Junk?” You and Luke scoffed. His eyes flickered to yours but you looked away as the man started tapping on Alex’s drums with his fingers.

“Hey, man! Tell him to stop touching my drums!” Alex complained. Julie just shrugged as the man pointed to the CD player.

“I liked that song you had on.”

“Sweet! We’re Sunset Curve.” Luke cheered.

“Tell your friends!” Reggie said as if he could hear him.

“It’s just an old CD I found.” Julie explained.

Her dad smiled. “Well, it’s still nice to hear you listening to music again. Out here you can play whatever you want, whenever you want.”

Something in his voice was a little sad even with the smile on his face, and you noticed something seemed a little heavier about Julie too. You got the sense that the conversation wasn’t just about music.

He stretched his arms and they went straight through Reggie and Luke’s chests. They both shivered but smiled brightly.

“That’s nice.” Reggie said, which made Julie sigh in frustration.

“Stay out of this.” She snapped and her dad gave her a confused look and started to apologize. Julie shook her head frantically.

“No, no. Not you. You know what? Just give me a minute.” She grabbed her dad’s arm and started leading him out of the garage.

Before he stepped out, he gave her a squeeze on the shoulder. “We’ll figure out this music program thing.”

“Thanks, Dad.”

He gave her one more reassuring smile before he disappeared out the doors. 

Julie paused for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. You were just about to ask if she was okay when she whirled around and glared at all of you. If you weren’t already dead, you’re pretty sure that her stare would’ve killed you.

“He liked our song!” Luke yelled.

“He doesn’t count. He’s a dad.” Alex said.

Julie stomped her foot. “Why can’t you just be normal ghosts? Go haunt an old mansion or something! I heard Pasadena is nice!”

She stormed out and Alex whistled. “I think she’s warming up to us.”

“I’ve always wanted to go to Pasadena.” Reggie said.

“I feel bad.” You admitted. “I mean, if I was her, I’d probably be pissed too.”

“I don’t think-” Alex started, but before he could finish, Luke poofed out of the garage. 

“Rude.”

It was quiet for a few seconds before you heard Luke’s voice just outside the studio. You pointed towards the doors and Alex and Reggie nodded.

You closed your eyes and focused on where you wanted to go. Within seconds, you were standing on the pavement of the driveway, facing Julie as she and Luke talked.

“Look, I’m sorry we came into your life.” Luke said. “But what I just felt in there actually made me feel alive again.”

He looked back to the three of you and you nodded.

“We all felt alive again.” Luke sighed. “So, you can kick us out if you want. But we’re not going to stop playing music. I mean, we can play again! That’s a gift that no musician would give up. You gotta know that. I mean, clearly your mom is into music.”

Julie’s look shifted from understanding to sadness. She took a deep breath. “Was. She passed away.”

Luke exhaled. You could tell he was beating himself up a bit as he chewed on his lip. “I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, we didn’t know.” Alex said. Reggie nodded solemnly behind him.

“It’s okay.” Julie shoved her hands in her pockets and looked at Alex. “You haven’t seen her anywhere, have you? Like from wherever you’re from.”

“Uh, no. I mean you’re kinda the first person we’ve seen.” Alex said.

“Yeah, but she’s not dead so that doesn’t answer her question.” Reggie piped up, making Alex roll his eyes.

“I think she knows what we mean.” Alex turned to Julie. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

Julie’s gaze fixed on her shoes and she shrugged. “Thanks. Sorry I got mad. You guys are kinda good.”

“Kinda?” Luke scoffed. “That’s just 25 years of rust getting dusted off.”

“Yeah.” Reggie agreed. “Do you play piano too?”

Julie shook her head, a sad smile on her face as she stared through the studio’s window. “No, that’s just my mom’s stuff in there.”

“No way! She’s an amazing songwriter.” Luke said.

“She was.” Julie tore her eyes away from the garage. “Wait, how do you know that?”

Luke shrugged. “There’s a song on the piano, if that’s hers…Your mom was really talented.”

You nodded and Julie scanned all of you one last time. “I guess, if you need a place to stay…you can stay in there.”

You all cheered and Julie rubbed her temples. “This is just too weird.”

“Thanks, Julie.” You said. The other girl gave you a weak smile before she disappeared behind the gate leading back to the house.

-

An hour later, as you paced around the garage, you got an idea. Your hand flew to the front pocket of your jeans and you turned to Alex. “Hey, Al. I’ll be right back.”

Before he had a chance to ask why, you had poofed away.

It didn’t take long before your feet landed on the doorstep of the house. You wandered inside and it took a full minute of searching before you arrived at Julie’s bedroom door.

You tried to knock, but your hand went straight through the wood. You cleared your throat. “Hey, Julie?”

“Come in.” Julie said.

Carefully, you stepped through the door and into her bedroom. It was decorated a lot like the garage, with bright lights and pretty paintings. Julie sat in the middle of the room on her bed, and even though you probably couldn’t sleep anymore, you wanted nothing more than to lay down and take a nap.

“Hi. I’m sorry to bother you.” You fiddled with the zipper of your jacket. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry about your mom.”

The friendly smile she had wavered before she nodded sadly. “Thanks. I’m sorry again for freaking out back there. I guess I just still kinda think of it as her place.”

“Don’t be sorry!” You told her. “Believe me, I wouldn't have handled it as well as you did.

 I know we’re a lot to handle sometimes. And by ‘we’ I mean the boys.” 

You both laughed and Julie shrugged. “They’re not so bad. As far as ghosts go I would’ve expected them to be a lot scarier.”

“It’s really nice of you to let us stay. But I’m sure we can find somewhere else to go. I wouldn't want to intrude on your mom’s space.”

“No!” She said, sitting up slightly against her pillows, “I think it’s what she would’ve wanted.”

“She sounds like an incredible person.” You said. 

“She was.” She nodded. She took a deep breath in, “It’s just kind of hard to talk about her sometimes.” 

You nodded. “I understand. My dad died before I was born. All I really have of him are a few pieces of clothes and this picture.”

You reached into the pocket of your jeans, pulled out a polaroid picture and handed  it to Julie. It was of your mom and dad on the day they got engaged: your mom showing off her ring and your dad unable to stop smiling as he kissed the crown of her head.

It had been on you since the day your mom gave it to you with a box of his old things. The sight of your mom made your heart wince, but you weren’t ready to think about that yet.

Julie smiled as she stared at the picture then pointed to your jacket. “Is that his?”

It was a dark blue hoodie with sleeves that were a little too long for your arms so you had to bunch them up to fit your hands through.

“Oh, uh. No, this is Luke’s.” You explained, trying to fight the blush spreading across your cheeks. “Or at least it was before he waged a war on sleeves.”

Julie laughed again, and you couldn’t help but feel a little lighter.

“Anyway, I know it’s not the same,” You took the photo back and shoved it in your pocket. “But I do know what it’s like to miss someone, and if you ever want to talk about how much it sucks, I’ve been told I’m a pretty good listener.”

She nodded, a grateful smile on her face. “Thanks, (Y/n).”

You nodded and waved goodbye before poofing back into the garage. 

Between working at Cece’s, going to school, and making music, you never had much time to make friends when you were alive. Especially girl friends.

But you were starting to think that maybe you could have one now.

July 1994

“Slow down!”

You yelled over the noise of the crowds, your tone sounding a lot less intimidating than you wanted due to your laughter as Luke dragged you up the boardwalk.

He responded with a smirk over his shoulder while he waved through dozens of excited carnival-goers. The smell of fried food, funnel cake, and fresh ocean air flooded your senses as you tried to stay on your feet. The pace was almost dizzying, and your body was buzzing from the excitement.

You hadn’t realized where he was taking you until you saw an array of flashing neon lights spinning above you. The Ferris wheel.

“Seriously, Luke?”

“It’s tradition.” He beamed, fidgeting excitedly as he got in the line. It was not lost on you that he was still holding your wrist in his left hand. “I mean, can you even remember the last time we did this?”

You didn’t. But you weren’t going to prove Luke’s point for him.

“Next, please.” The ride operator gestured for the line to move up and before you knew it, Luke was shoving you into the cart. It was a faded red one with a ‘7’ painted on the side.

“You know, it’s okay to admit that you only dragged me over here to avoid everyone seeing me kick your ass at Skee ball.” You joked.

The ride started and your cart was lifted into the air while more people got on.

“Excuse you, I dragged you over here because I wanted to spend time with my best friend.” He said sincerely, but you could see the mischief behind his eyes. “Or maybe I wanted to do this!”

Luke suddenly jerked forward, then pulled himself back, making the cart wobble.

“Luke!” You gripped the support bar and glared at him. Once your heartbeat righted itself, you shoved him with your shoulder. “You’re hilarious.”

“About time you admitted it.”

The ride spun around a few times before slowing to a stop just as you reached the top. The sun was gone now, but there were still soft streaks of pink in the sky left behind. The noise of the carnival faded out beneath you and the playful mood shifted into something different as the sky began to darken.

“Are you cold?” He asked, looking back at you for the first time in a few moments. Something in his eyes seemed softer, but you tore your eyes away before you could figure out what it was.

You shook your head and tried to hide the fact that you had goosebumps from the cool night air. Despite Alex’s reminders, you had forgotten your jacket in the car. But you were too stubborn to admit that you needed it, especially knowing how much Luke would tease you for it.

“Dude, you’re shivering.” Luke laughed and rolled his eyes before shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and wrapping it around you.

The material was warm and soft against your skin. It smelled faintly like cinnamon and laundry detergent and suddenly your head felt dizzy all over again. "Thanks, Lu."

You weren't sure what gave you the confidence for your next move, but you ignored the screaming voice in your head as you slid over and tilted your head until it rested on his shoulder. It was something you’d done before out of comfort, but you felt out of your element in this moment.

Some hair on the top of your head ruffled as he took a deep breath and you could hear the soft smile in his voice when he spoke.

“Anytime.”

There was a moment of anticipation, like just before a big drop on a rollercoaster. Neither of you dared break the silence for fear of shattering the moment and the feeling that came with it. Just as it seemed like maybe it would last forever, the Ferris wheel suddenly moved forward and the moment evaporated.

"So." You said, trying to distract yourself from the fluttering in your stomach. "How much do you wanna bet that I actually can kick your ass at Skee Ball?"

-

Taglist:

@ifilwtmfc @instabull

Let me know if you want to be added!

[sunjaesol]

we’re dancing under the rain

canon compliant juke | fluff! | inspiration: rain // ben platt

Julie wondered if one day, she could stop loving. Because damn - it hurt. It hurt to love so much and continuously have her heart be broken. Love and heartache cycled through her life like a never ending train and the girl was in a constant battle of wanting to shut down or give it another chance. 

She always chose the latter, obviously, but that hurt too. The price she needed to pay to have such meaningful friendships. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t have become a family with a trio of ghosts and an adjacent skater ghost. The problem of caring so much was when the heart got involved, when that heart beat a second too fast, too willingly, too adoringly. 

It made her vulnerable, her heart jumping out of her chest to sync with the other person and then getting crushed instead. This time, it cut her particulary deep. 

Nick broke up with her. 

A puffy-eyed Julie sat huddled in the studio under a blanket. He did it during lunch. All of a sudden, he pulled her aside into the hallway, told her they didn’t quite fit together and that it was better if they broke up. He pretended like she had a say in it, though it was clear he already made up his mind. Which was even worse, Julie found. Nick had thought about it before, probably more than once. His words made her feel like a fool. There she was, thinking their relationship was going smooth, getting squashed a minute after that: no, actually, it’s not going smoothly and you’re probably in denial so let’s end it now.

Later, she’d probably thank him for ripping the band-aid. She was now allowed to be heartbroken.    

Outside, rain was slamming against the pavement. That was the only good thing about the situation; the weather deciding to match her mood and mourn with her.

Luke poofed in with his signature grin, lips shaping to blurt out a story and then crashing into a frown when he saw the state she was in. 

“Jules?”

Wordlessly, she covered her tear-stained cheeks with the blanket. She hated it when people - especially Luke - caught her at her lowest. The boys were dead, she couldn't really complain about minor inconveniences when the only reason they were breathing was out of habit. 

The couch dipped at her feet. A careful hand patted her calf. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she mumbled. 

“Yes, cause that’s what I do when nothing’s wrong.” His voice was light, though a keen ear like hers could sense the hint of concern. “I cry.”

Julie huffed, pulling the blanket back to scowl at him. “Nick broke up with me. But it’s whatever because it clearly wasn’t as big of a deal to him as it was to me, so-” Shrugging, she sat upright and wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of her sweater. “It is nothing.”

Her fingers combed through her hair, trying to relieve the heat bugging her skin. God, she just wanted this day to be over with. She didn’t want to rehearse and do homework and eat dinner and pretend everything was dandy. She just wanted to cry and sleep and not have Luke’s stupidly green eyes drown in pity. 

“That sucks though,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Her lips rolled inwards, a smile forming despite her mood. “Not your fault.” Their gazes met. It felt new, somehow. “My heart is just… too open, I guess.”

Luke tapped her calf again, mirth lilting his tone. “Still not a bad thing. It was cool in the 90s and it’s cool now. He’s an idiot for not going crazy over it.”

“My open heart?”, she chuckled. 

“Yeah.” A beat. His eyes haven’t wavered. “Or you. In general.”

The smile bloomed to a full grin, a sliver of levity easing the ache in her chest. Why did he always know what to say? Granted, he used to be horrible at cheering her up, when she was fifteen and sadness lingered in her every move, but he got the hang of it after two years. A reassuring kiss on her temple before a stressful gig, a particularly uplifting speech during band circle, a new tune he came up with when he knew she didn’t feel like talking. Her teenage girl melodrama unfazed him. 

Luke met her halfway for a tight hug. It was the most comfortable place to be; her cheek on his shoulder and his arms holding her so securely and how, after all they’ve been through, his 90s cologne smelled like home. 

“Thank you,” she mumbled. “Some ghost girl is going to be so happy you’ve had practise dealing with me.”

He snorted. “Ah, yes. My harem of ghost girls. The, uh, market is really big for me.”

It wasn’t something they often discussed. It became clear that the boys weren’t going to cross over any time soon (if crossing over was even a thing, or the thing they thought it would be) and had time to settle into a long afterlife. Willie had been wandering around since the seventies and only now found Alex, so who knew how long Luke and Reggie would have to wait until they met their ghost-mate. It was a sad thought, but at least they had each other and music and the band. 

There was also the minor problem that Luke sometimes had this look on his face, usually fixed on her, that left little to the interpretation. It hasn’t happened in a while, but every so often…

It kind of made her breathless. Whatever. It was dumb. Those feelings have long been buried. The point was that he should look at ghost girls like that - not her.   

(A month after The Orpheum, they sat side by side behind the grand piano as they belted out a new song they’ve been working on, her fingers expertly gliding across the keys and slamming on those that needed that extra power. Julie was fully entranced, head thrown back and smiling through the lyrics as their voices reached a beautiful harmony no one could compete with. The last note drifted across the studio. When she turned to look at him, she expected to see the same grin. Instead, Luke gave her such a tender look, close, and let his doe eyes wander past her nose. Had Reggie not poofed in, she didn’t know if she would’ve had the restraint to not give in. To not be selfish. It was years ago, but she thought about it each time he joined her at the piano. It was the price for friendship, Julie often reminded herself. For an eternal bond.) 

Rain kept drumming into the ground. It sounded like a million ping pong balls fell onto the roof at an incredible speed. 

Luke pulled away and shot a look outside. “Damn.”

“Yeah,” Julie nodded. “I made a deal with God today. If I cry, the world does too.”

He rolled his eyes. “Dramatic.”

The smile stuck to her cheeks. Luke only needed a few minutes to lift her spirits. Tears didn’t even well up anymore. Was that bad? That one the same day, just in the afternoon, she already felt a bit better? She decided to not mull on the why.

“Wanna dance in the rain?”

She blinked. “What?”

He matched her smile, throwing his thumb at the doors. “Do you wanna dance in the rain?”

It was as if her brain wasn’t processing his words. “What? Why?”

“Why not?”, he shrugged. “You feel like shit, it never rains in LA and it’s fun.”

Quiet excitement coursed through her veins, the thrill pushing energy back in her bloodstream. Why not? The expectant twinkle in his eye brought colour to her face, jumping off the couch pulling him up with her. His whooping got her to laugh. It almost surprised her; she hasn’t properly laughed at all today. 

They each pulled one sliding door open, their ears instantly bombarded with noise. It was the hardest downpour of the year! 

“No running for cover!”, he yelled above the loud rushing of rain.     

She stuck her pinky out. “Only if you won’t!”  

And then they stepped in the rain. They were drenched straight away, a squeal erupting from her lips as the coldness crept between her clothes. He laughed, raking his hair back and leaping into a puddle. Water splashed around him. 

His voice bellowed through the sound. “C’mon!”

It spurred her into action, his laugh replaying in her head over and over again, as her head lolled back and began to twirl in circles. Faster and faster, giggles tumbling out as felt herself becoming one with the rain. This was exactly what she needed. A moment of silliness and unconditional joy! 

Luke was dancing like a maniac next to her, feet kicking and arms outstretched. She found herself staring at his profile, how bliss broke the lines in his face and caused a crescendo of glee to overcome him. It was mesmerising. Julie found herself slowing down, taken aback by the hope rising in her chest at the mere sight of him. 

What she hoped for, she didn’t know. (She did. She just couldn’t admit it just yet.) 

As if sensing her thoughts, Luke caught her eye with and yanked her into the dance without a second of hesitation. They spun around, hands intertwined and arms outstretched, daring to see how long they could keep going before one dropped from dizziness. Julie wasn’t afraid though. Luke would never let her fall. 

They let go just as they were losing balance, snickering like fools and trying to find footing again. Julie jumped onto his back, him instantly jostling her around until she got chucked off like a sack of potatoes. Each grin and laugh and crack of thunder mended her heart, slipping the pieces back together and allowing it to bloom once more. Keep on breaking, keep on loving, keep on hoping, keep on hoping for-

Luke locked his hands around the small of her back. “Ready?!”

He didn’t have to ask twice, their steps speeding up as she threw her arms beside her and then, at their fastest, pulled one leg up to swing in his hold. How she didn’t slip on the soaking wet ground was a miracle. 

Julie’s smile rivalled his, grabbing onto the lapels of his shacket to get him closer. He had something else in mind, hands slipping to her waist and launching her in the sky in one fluid motion. It took her breath away, quickly grabbing onto his shoulders and yelling her lungs out. It was just like in her dreams. Was it selfish of her to have yearned for this? 

(She felt it. The way her heart washed away all the troubles, how the numbing cold shrivelled to make place for someone else.)   

They shouted exclaims and curses into the rain. About Nick, about music, about each other, about how fucking unfair life could be, but damn - moments like these were worth the pain.  

Her drenched curls tickled his face, causing him to sputter and attract her focus. Julie looked down at him and didn’t stop the heartstopping smile growing on her face. Oh. 

Her fingers swiped against the planes of his cheeks, his grin beaming up at her and letting the dormant wildfire (snug between her ribs, among the flowers and the lyrics) come alive again. For so long, she hasn’t allowed herself to feel it. But how could she not when Luke propelled her into the storm itself, unify them like the whirlwind of passion they authentically were? 

They were the thunder and the lightning, the silver lining and the punch line - the dancers in the rain. 

He gently set her down, feet splashing. She didn’t let him pull away, instantly wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her face into his wet shirt. They smelled like wet dogs and it was better than any perfume she’s ever had. 

“Thank you,” she whispered. 

His head settled on top of hers, cool breath fanning her skin. “I can’t have you down in the gutter, Jules. Ever.”

I love you. “Ever?”

She felt him move, her eyes tilting to meet his. That expression she cherished deeply returned tenfold. His tender smile, the green hooded by shy eyes, an incredulous hitch of the breath. 

Luke nodded, flitting gaze as if he didn’t quite know what to focus on, and carefully brushed a droplet from her cheek. “Ever.” 

(Julie got a cold the next day. It didn’t matter - she had the boy of her dreams to keep her company.) 

Breathe deep, let it wash over you We're slowly becoming lovers I promise you we won't be like the others We won't go running for cover

@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @willexx​ @unsaid-emily​ @ourstarscollided​ @sophiphi​ @unsaidjulie​

[theasstour]

𝐅𝐈𝐂 𝐏𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 𝟏𝟑.𝟒𝐤 𝐍𝐁: 𝐚𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐡𝐨𝐥, 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞

A/N: Thank you to the lovelies who nominated Strange Tides, Baby Blue, and moi for the 1D Craft Awards 🌊🐚 If you have the time and feel like spreading some love, go vote for your fave fics and authors here ✨ ENJOYYY CHAPTER 5! x

Tuesday, 7 July

“I’d say you’re doing quite alright for someone who has just gotten into knitting,” Bessie said, looking at Y/N’s creation over the rim of her glasses. “What technique did your mother teach you again, sweets? ‘Cause you’re a natural.”

“Oh, I dunno,” Y/N answered honestly, taking her blue square back. “Are there different types of knitting styles?”

Bessie’s laugh was warm and joyous, looking out at Camila, Florence, and Barb, who smiled at Y/N. Though Y/N had been scared of being judged by these women for not knowing how to properly knit at first, there was nothing but kindness and appreciation in their eyes. It seemed they really were just happy to see the beginning of Y/N’s knitting journey. They had all been beyond helpful, taking their time and being patient with her as she learned the ins and outs of knitting. She was still not sure what she was making, but she was knitting a bunch of squares to start off, and she would see where to go from there.

“So,” Florence said, turning her attention back on the knitting in front of her. “What do you think of St Ives thus far, Y/N? Is it living up to your expectations?”

“You’ve been here a month now,” Bessie said, shaking her head as if she couldn’t quite believe it. And Y/N couldn’t believe it herself. Time had flown by so incredibly fast it did not seem quite real. It seemed like only yesterday she had checked in here and met Bessie, or when she ran into Harry and started their little thing. It just did not seem real that time had gone by this fast. In a month’s time, summer would almost be over and she would have to start thinking about checking out and finding out what to do next. Going back home to Winchester was out of the question, but she didn’t really have anywhere else to go.

Y/N took a deep breath, telling herself not to think about that now. Debating what to do after she checked out of The Roaming Crab Inn could be done at another time, not while she was knitting with four lovely ladies. For someone who had lived her whole life with a plan laid out for her near and far future, Y/N was awfully relaxed about the prospect of the chapter of her life that would start once she left St Ives in August.

“I love it here,” she answered truthfully, finding some red yarn so she could start knitting a red square. “I’ve met so many people while staying here, it’s been amazing.”

“It’s been fun to meet Harry’s family as well,” Barb said. “If your name comes up in conversation when we’re at the chess club, Jessa won’t shut up. She’s so proud Harry’s dating such a lovely lady.”

Y/N felt her cheeks heat up, both because she took pride in that compliment but also because she knew Jessa wouldn’t think of her like that when she and Harry “broke up” later.

“Speaking of people you’ve met, my son tells me you went to the pub with him, Harry, and their little group.” Florence looked at Y/N, smiling. “Did he invite you to his birthday this Saturday?”

“Yeah, Harry told me we were invited,” Y/N said.

“Dax and Harry have been close ever since Harry came to St Ives. He even slept at the lighthouse for close to a month after Harry’s father got lost at sea.”

Y/N stopped knitting. When she looked over at Florence again, the older woman was already knitting so she didn’t notice Y/N’s sudden interest. She looked over at Bessie who only gave Y/N a nod as to confirm what Florence had just said, and in that second Y/N was very happy Bessie knew her and Harry’s relationship was only pretend.

“The day they found the empty boat was absolutely horrible. All of St Ives in mourning. Remember it like it was yesterday,” Camila went on, sighing dramatically. “Devastating time.”

“Let’s not talk about that,” Bessie chimed in. “It is such a sad time to reminisce about.”

“Yes, no reason we should think about such things,” Barb went on. “I’m sure it’s a touchy subject for Y/N as well, seeing as Harry is so close to her.”

Y/N focused entirely on her knitting, not really wanting to say anything in regards to Harry’s dad. She knew he died, but she hadn’t really questioned how that happened. For some reason, Y/N had assumed he had been sick, but knowing something happened to Harry’s dad while he was at sea… she didn’t know how to feel. Was it worse to have a loved one be sick and know the end was inevitable and close, or to have them ripped suddenly and unexpectedly out of your life?

“I’m sorry for bringing the mood down, girls,” Florence said, letting a bright laugh escape her lips. “Maybe we need some tea to brighten up our mood some?”

“I think that’s a splendid idea,” Bessie said, getting up from her seat. “Y/N, dear, would you give me a helping hand?”

“Of course.”

Y/N got up and followed Bessie inside to the kitchen, the three others chattering away as the two started making a new batch black tea. Bessie busied herself with finding some mugs, her sugar, and milk, as Y/N just stood beside the kettle and waited for it to finish boiling. With her arms crossed, her mind wandered off to all those times Harry mentioned his dad and his death, not once had he mentioned he was sick, so Y/N didn’t know where she had gotten that idea from. She knew it was not something she should be speculating or thinking about, but right then, she could not help herself.

Instead of thinking about something so tragic, she forced herself to think about Dax’s birthday party the coming weekend. Harry had only mentioned it in passing yesterday, but Y/N was already looking forward to it. There wasn’t much else she did now anyway besides knit, read for the UCAT, and lie about being in a relationship. Throwing some partying into that mix seemed like a bit of fun.

Saturday, 11 July

“I’m about to do it,” Y/N said, eyes on her laptop screen in front of her. Her white summer dress blew a little in the wind from the open window beside her, but the breeze was welcomed, as it always was in Cornwall.

Harry looked up from where he was going through some bills on his couch, wearing his red knitted jumper along with a pair of short dungaree shorts. Y/N was sat on the other side of his tiny house in the windowsill beside his bed. It was big enough to fit her, her books, and laptop, it was kind of her spot now.

“I’m really about to do it,” Y/N repeated, more for her own sake than for Harry’s - who was a little confused and sat with his mouth open, waiting for her to elaborate – because she simply could not believe she was doing this.

“What?” Harry asked after a while, and when Y/N met his eyes, he blinked a few times as if readying himself for whatever she was about to say.

“Apply for the UCAT exam.”

Last week, Y/N had taken Harry up on his offer to study for her UCAT exam at his place. She came over Friday, and upon seeing her walking up to his house around 8:30, Harry walked toward her on the gravel path. She didn’t know why, but she liked that he did that instead of just standing stoic and just watching her. It made her almost feel urgently desired at his house when he did that.

“Hi,” Y/N greeted as they fell into step beside one another. “Report time?”

“Yeah, just walking around and checking everything.”

She smiled. “And so you walked over here to check on me?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

Y/N wanted to laugh, but Harry was looking at the gravel in front of him, lips sucked into his mouth as if telling himself to shut up. He walked her all the way into his house, telling her to make herself feel at home. She sat down by the round table and placed her books out before her, sighing a little to herself as she opened the first one to the page she’d left off on last time. Before going about his day of lightkeeper chores, he made her a cup of tea and told her to help herself to anything in the fridge. He left in a hurry to report, and Y/N didn’t see much of him till two hours later, when he came inside to look through some paperwork.

The rest of the week, she’d popped by almost every single day and then stayed for hours on end. Though she’d mostly been studying, she had also stayed a little longer just to hang out with Harry. She felt safe on Clodgy Point, with Harry, who, once she got him talking about something he found interesting, would talk someone’s ear off. It was so nice to hang out with someone her own age. Someone who would curse and who didn’t need to gossip all the time. There was something so relaxing about Harry’s presence and his little bungalow that attracted Y/N. She simply could not study in her own room anymore, and Harry didn’t seem to mind. He’d meet her on the gravel path and walk her to his house before he went off to report, every single day without fail. She always looked forward to seeing him there, a sight that made the moors around her seem less turbulent and the world a little more colourful.

Though she sat by the door the first two days, she ended up in the windowsill after a while. When Harry caught her there, he asked if her bum wouldn’t get numb from sitting there all day, to which Y/N jokingly said not to worry, she could just bring a cushion next time, though she always forgot. She didn’t mind though; she liked that windowsill so much that her sore arse didn’t bother her. It also seemed Harry liked that his windowsill was being used, because at one point, he brought his Super 8 camera out, taping her doing her work in the windowsill.

On Monday, something happened that took Y/N’s breath away. Harry walked into the house, zipping his mouth shut when their eyes met as if to tell her he didn’t intend on interrupting her. He made himself something to eat for lunch and sat by the round kitchen table, minding his own business and looking out of the window beside him every now and again for some sort of entertainment. Once he was done eating, he washed his plate up and then, instead of walking back out to work, he walked over to his piano. Y/N immediately sat up a bit straighter, resting her hands on her bent knee as she watched Harry open the piano chair, pull a notebook out, and then sit down once he closed it.

Harry’s hands hovered over the keys before he slowly started pressing down on them, producing the softest melody Y/N thought she might have ever heard. He moved along with the piece, feeling the rhythmic waves take over his body and guide him through the history that melody held. It was clear Harry had some sort of attachment to that piece. Y/N didn’t know how carefully musicians played, how much attention and care they gave to each of the pieces they performed, but there was something graceful and almost intimate about watching Harry perform that piece. Y/N simply could not put her finger on it, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

Once he was done playing that specific melody, about to start the next one, Y/N opened her mouth, “What’s that piece called?”

Harry looked at her over his shoulder, raising his eyebrows some as if he hadn’t heard her right.

“Is it well-known?”

“No, uhm…” He furrowed his brows some, looking at the dresser stood beside the piano where a few photos were placed. “I wrote it myself?”

“You did?”

“Yeah, it’s a few years old.”

Y/N couldn’t help her smile. “Does the piece have a title?”

Harry nodded slowly. “Saving Grace,” he explained. “It’s got a dual meaning.”

“Which is?”

“Well, I was 20 when Grace was born. Until then I hadn’t really been around babies, so it took some getting used to when Grace was around most of the time. It had only been my dad and me for a long time, then Jessa came into our lives, which ultimately brought Gracie.” Harry looked out the window Y/N sat in. “It had been a very… content life till then. Nothing spectacular, Dad and I really did love each other and were best friends since before Mum left us when I was 6. But…” He trailed off. “But then came Jessa and Grace, and they truly changed all that. They made us so happy.”

A warmness that was not due to the hot temperature outside, made its way like a wave down Y/N’s body.

“Grace became my little person, you know? Though I worked at St Ives Bakery and had friends, I still didn’t know what I wanted to really do with my life. I was about to apply to study music at uni, but… I dunno, I just didn’t. Grace became my purpose for a little while. I earned money so I could take her places and buy her ice cream, or I taught her how to walk, talk, and we did everything together.” Harry turned back to the piano, playing the first few notes slowly. “This melody came to me when I watched her walk without trouble around the moors outside, she was looking at flowers and she was so happy. The melody tries to capture that moment and how perfect that day was.” He stopped, glancing at the sheet in front of him. “She was two years old.”

“So, essentially, you try to capture feelings and moments in your music?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you have any other pieces?”

Harry chuckled, looking over his shoulder at her. “You know, the reason I started playing was to help you concentrate. Piano music is great for that.”

“Sod my work, I want to know more about your music.”

“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, turning his body in her direction now. “I’ve never heard you say that word before! Never heard you speak like that!”

Y/N laughed, but persuaded Harry to play a few of his other pieces before he went back to work.

That Saturday when Y/N brought up the exam, Harry hadn’t played any piano. He sometimes would, both to calm himself down, but also to help Y/N concentrate. She would sometimes take breaks just to listen to him, but his playing really did help her focus. Harry was doing some of his work in the house that Saturday, probably to keep her company, but she was very happy he was there. She needed someone to talk this through with.

There was an instant pull to the edges of Harry’s lips, something that he didn’t have to think about, it was instinctive and genuine. A slight breath left his mouth, almost like something of a chuckle, a relief of sorts that made her all hot. He smiled and got up from the couch, a reason for his movements as if he moved a little easier now that he’d just heard that.

“Are you really?” he asked, taking his tea mug and nodding at Y/N’s beside her. She picked it up and handed it to him.

“I mean, I’ve been thinking about it for weeks, and I feel like it’s stupid to study for an exam if I’m never going to take it.”

“That makes sense, yeah.”

“So, I’m just gonna do it now.”

Harry put their mugs down, filling up the kettle before making another round. Y/N liked that he just assumed she wanted another cuppa. She liked the fact he made her this hot beverage that took a long time for someone to drink up. That he made her several a day. She really liked that.

“I’m thinking, you’ve been reading for weeks and you clearly know the material, you might as well,” Harry said.

“There’s just… I dunno…”

“What?”

“No.”

Harry was quiet, so when Y/N looked at him, he was already looking at her, waiting for her to continue. Both knew she wouldn’t hold back once she’d already started saying something.

“I’m scared I won’t show up.”

Harry frowned. “Why? That something is gonna come up?”

“No, that I’ll just oversleep on purpose or find any possible solution so I won’t have to go. Maybe my brain will refuse to revise the entire week before it, I tended to do that in school. When I have an opportunity to, I make things hard for myself.”

Harry plopped two sugars into her cuppa. “I won’t let that happen.”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “How, you’re gonna carry me out of my room and to your van, then drive me to the exam?”

“If that’s what it takes.”

She laughed, looking back at the laptop in front of her as Harry walked over, putting the tea down beside her.

“Thanks,” she said.

“I think you should just do it.”

“I know I should, but… once I sign up, it’s all happening. It’s not just something I’m thinking about doing, it’s actually happening and there’s a date I gotta work toward.” She sighed. “It’s not just a dream anymore.”

“It stopped being ‘just a dream’ the second you bought those books,” Harry said, sipping his tea as Y/N looked up at him where he stood beside her. “When you started reading, you knew what you were doing and yet you did it anyway.”

She studied him for a second, meeting his eyes the second before she turned back to the laptop. “Guess you’re right.”

“I’m right.”

She flung her arm out, hitting him just across his knee. “Cocky.”

“No,” Harry giggled. “I’m correct. You should try being it sometime.”

“Tone it down!”

Harry laughed, walking back over to his paperwork again. He sat working for a bit longer, finishing his tea before he put everything back in the folder and walked back out of the house and to the lighthouse. When the front door slammed shut, it was like Y/N was slapped out of a sort of trance. She had just been looking at the UCAT website, mouse hovering over the ‘Register and Book’ button, mind somewhere else completely. She remembered what Harry said, how registering and taking this exam wouldn’t make this dream of hers reality all of a sudden, she had done that herself when she started deliberately revising for the UCAT.

She clicked the button and made herself a new user on the website. Reading through everything carefully, Y/N felt her heart picking up speed. It was dawning on her that she was really doing this, despite everything, she was finally registering to take the test. The next few minutes as she took all of this in, she completely forgot where she was. All she knew was the information being fed to her. The wind, the sun, the fly flying around her head, nor whatever Harry was doing was any of her concern. She focused entirely on registering and booking a date. A fee of £75 had to be paid, and though Y/N would never have thought about paying that kind of money before, she hesitated now.

She didn’t have a job, her parents weren’t providing for her anymore because… well, she wasn’t talking to them, so she only had the money on her one card left. Though she was sure she could afford the test fee, there would come a time when she couldn’t. Money had never been a problem until now. This hadn’t been something she thought about before, it hadn’t been a problem then because her parents were filthy rich, but she recognised this now. However, this test had been on her mind for years and it was something she really wanted to do, so spending money on it wasn’t something she needed to feel guilty about. Y/N paid the fee and sat there staring at her screen as a ‘Thanks for your booking’ popped up on her screen. Her test was September 10th. That was in two months. In two months she would be taking the UCAT.

She got up from the windowsill, shaking her clammy hands to dry them some, a shaky breath leaving her parted lips as her heart galloped inside her chest. It didn’t feel real. None of it felt real. She was doing the UCAT exam. This was her first big step into dentistry. She was actually doing what she had been dreaming of doing for years now.

She had no idea what made her do it but she walked out of the house, instinctively walking towards the lighthouse. Harry was already halfway to the cottage from the lighthouse, halting a little at Y/N’s abrupt exit. She stopped when she saw him.

“I did it.”

Those three words took a few seconds for Harry to comprehend, but when he did, he gave her the biggest grin she’d ever seen on his face. His eyes completely disappeared behind his cheekbones, crinkles appearing beside them, and his crooked smile was accompanied with his brilliant dimples that breathed light and meaning into every situation they were present in. The sight of it made her own appear and she put a hand over her chest, feeling her heart still going hard against her ribcage. Harry must have not thought a lot of it, because he nearly opened his arms, but they quickly fell to his side. Next, he went to give her a high five, but that almost seemed inappropriate because it was such a huge moment to Y/N.

But Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about the way Harry had opened his arms for her just now. Couldn’t stop thinking about how he wanted her close like that to congratulate her on what she’d just done. And, the part of her that hadn’t really experienced someone’s noticeable pride in her like this before, wouldn’t mind at all. That’s why she ran towards him, and the two seconds Harry had to prepare, Y/N both saw the visible shock at her sprinting for him, but also a sort of jubilation like it was an honour. Y/N threw her arms around him and Harry quickly wrapped her in his, a breath of relief skimming her neck and making goosebumps run through her entire body. She laughed as Harry picked her off the ground, groaning in triumph at the news of her finally having signed up for the UCAT.

She leaned her head against his, smelling that same perfume on him that she remembered smelling when she wore his knitted jumper a few weeks ago. Her theory had also been right: Harry was an amazing hugger. His grip was tight and she was sure he closed his eyes, really immersing himself completely in the person he was embracing. Fingers spread out across her back, the tips of one just touching her shoulder blade and the other on her waist, squeezing her slightly for a few seconds before letting her down again.

“That’s amazing, Y/N,” Harry said, and Y/N tightened her grip.

When they finally let go of one another, Harry ran inside and came back some seconds later holding his camera, said he needed to document this. Y/N did a few poses that made Harry laugh, then proceeding to run out into the field beyond the lighthouse. She felt absolutely ecstatic as she ran around, grinning and jumping, her arms held up high and her heart soaring. After all this time, she was finally pursuing this. If she was able to do something that terrified and excited her like this, then what else could she do? Part of her felt like she could do anything now.

Porthgwidden Beach was like Harry described it: small. Once Harry and Y/N arrived at the tiny car park above the beach, Y/N stopped for a moment to take in the beach that wasn’t even a fraction of what the other two major beaches of St Ives were. Some Tiësto song was playing somewhere and the beach was crowded, all guests of Dax’s birthday party. The Porthgwidden Beach Café seemed to have been booked for the occasion as well, people around their age all sitting grouped around the table with their bottles and cups. No one seemed to be going crazy on their alcohol, which reassured Y/N some because it had been a while since she had been drunk, a glass or two of anything would make her very lightheaded and giggly. She had brought with her a bottle of wine in her tote bag, Harry seemed to be relying on his mates having brought drinks. If not, Y/N wouldn’t mind sharing the rest of hers with him.

Y/N had left Harry’s place not long after she signed up for the UCAT so she could get ready for Dax’s birthday party in her own room. She wore a dark green column midi skirt along with a white tee shirt and some short heels that she regretted wearing the second her and Harry stepped out into the sand. He looked over his shoulder at her once he noticed her struggling a bit, offering his hand for her to hold so she could take her heels off. While she did that, she took the liberty to study him again. His outfit was simple, yet effortlessly hot. High waisted mid wash denim jeans, a baggy black tee shirt tucked into them, along with some white socks and black Converse. Y/N had a theory Harry would end up taking his own shoes off by the end of the night too.

The two had met on Island Street where they knew none of the other partygoers would venture. That way, people would’ve seen them walk together all the way to the party, assuming they must’ve spent time at Harry’s place before coming here. They had discussed this plan over a last cuppa tea before Y/N left earlier that day, Harry had seemed very happy with himself for coming up with that one. And as they stood there, Y/N holding his hand while taking her shoes off, they heard some loud whistles followed by a “There they are!”

Looking over, they saw the birthday boy making his way over, arms spread wide and the biggest grin on his face. “My boyo!”

“Dax, not now-“

But the man didn’t listen. He hugged Harry to him, causing Harry to take a few steps, resulting in Y/N losing her balance. With a squeal, Y/N almost fell face first into the sand again, but Harry was fast to bring one hand under her armpit and the other to her hip. He dragged her toward him, her torso flat against his. She saw Harry’s eyes on her face in her peripheral vision, felt his breath on her cheek.

“Oi!” Dax laughed. “Sorry ‘bout that, Y/N. Got a bit carried away seeing this hunk.” Dax put a hand on Harry’s shoulder, causing Harry to jump right out of his trance and let go of Y/N, as if couples didn’t normally embrace each other like this without hesitation.

“Happy birthday, Dax,” Y/N smiled before picking up her shoe, shoving the pair into her tote bag along with her cardigan and Harry’s red knitted jumper.

“Happy birthday, mate,” Harry said.

“You know, I expected you to be the first one here.” Dax crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at Harry.

Harry furrowed his brows at Dax. “What do you mean?”

“Well, isn’t your best friend’s birthday important to you?”

Harry was quiet for a second. “Oh, my word, Dax.”

“I’m just a joke to you.”

“You sure are.”

“Look who it is!” Ellie called, grinning as her and the rest of Harry’s little gang made their way over. “You made it!”

“We were starting to think you two wouldn’t come,” Amir said, his hair in the most effortlessly pretty bun at the top of his head. “Too busy?” Amir wiggled his eyebrows.

“You’re too caught up in people’s sex lives for it to be normal, mate,” Harry said, taking the cup Fatima offered him. “Cheers.”

Something about Harry referring to him and Y/N’s sex life made Y/N’s cheeks feel awfully hot. Even though their joined sex life was non-existent, it still got to her. Maybe it was the way Harry always dodged those questions so the two wouldn’t have to answer any awkward queries they had absolutely no idea about. She didn’t know, but she rummaged through her bag so people wouldn’t see how flustered she suddenly got.

“Just trying to make conversation,” Amir said.

“Well, don’t,” Jo chimed in, their smile mocking and Amir only huffed in response.

“By the way!” Dax exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re going Terraland next week, you coming this year, Y/N?”

Y/N raised her eyebrows in question. “What’s Terraland?”

“Theme park in Helston, we go every year towards the end of the summer vacation,” Jo explained. “Harry here-“ They gestured at the man standing beside Y/N. “-Doesn’t like Terraland.”

“I do,” Harry protested. “I like laying by the pool and not doing shit. I don’t particularly like it when you force me on rollercoasters.”

Y/N smiled. “I’ll come if Harry decides to.”

“Brill! All of us are coming, maybe a few others,” Amir said.

“So, it’s like an adventure park with rollercoasters and such?” Y/N asked

“That and pools, very much the kind of thing you visit when you’re on vacation in, like, Spain,” Harry explained. “But it’s in Cornwall.”

“Good for a group of grown up kids, ey?” Dax grinned, clapping his hands together.

“Come, Y/N, babe.” Ellie linked her arm with Y/N’s, taking Y/N off guard, but she didn’t stop Ellie. She looked at their arms and smiled a little. “Let’s get you a cup so we can get this party started.”

“Love your skirt, by the way,” Fatima smiled as they reached a table with tons of cups and napkins.

“Ahh, thank you. Haven’t worn it in a while, so I felt it was fitting to do so today.” Y/N glanced down at her skirt, running her hand over it before reaching for a cup.

“Ellie and I were saying the other day that you’ve got such a sophisticated sense of style, you need to take us shopping.”

“Could use a few pointers,” Ellie agreed, watching Y/N as she poured herself a glass of wine.

“Really?” Y/N screwed the cork shut before putting the bottle away, smiling at the two girls. “I mean, it’s not that good-“

“-Out of respect for what Harry said, I will stop you before you discredit yourself,” Ellie smiled back.

Y/N laughed. “What about respect for me? Respect me wanting to discredit myself for having a mediocre clothing style.”

Both Fatima and Ellie joined in on the laughing and the three girls walked away from the table so they could hang out by themselves. Though St Ives had around 11,000 inhabitants, Y/N was sure a lot of the guests weren’t locals. Maybe friends from University or friends-of-friends, everything to get a good party going. Judging by what Fatima and Ellie told Y/N, this was an annual thing. Dax Rose held a massive birthday party and absolutely everyone was invited. Bring your own alcohol, bring a friend, and bring a smile, and you were welcomed with open arms. People were sitting in the sand or by the café, others were just standing around, some were dancing, and a group was also taking a swim and joking around in the water. Y/N genuinely liked the atmosphere; it was just really freeing and nice. People wore whatever they wanted, laughter could be heard everywhere, and it just seemed like everyone wanted to have a good time.

Though anyone could come join the party – something that made her look around her a few too many times -, there were still enough people there to notice something suspicious going on.

Fatima, Ellie, and Y/N stood just talking for a while. It was really nice to talk to some girls her own age again, she couldn’t remember the last time she had done that. She had some good friends at school but once they had gone off to University or moved away from Winchester, she fell out of touch with most of them. Y/N knew it wasn’t personal, she quite liked the fact her friends had acquired new lives for themselves, being happier and more fulfilled. But she had missed just standing around chatting nonsense. The conversation didn’t hold much significance, there wasn’t much crucial information going around, or any sort of seriousness attached to it, just some mates having a chat. Y/N found herself wondering if Fatima and Ellie would come if she asked them out for lunch one day.

“I saw this documentary the other day, it’s on iPlayer,” Ellie said. “It was super interesting and disturbing.”

“Oh?” Y/N said, tipsy at this point and just holding the cup of wine in her hand, not wanting to drink more in case it would make her dizzy and very giggly.

“Yeah, it was basically about all these people who committed gruesome murders in the UK, and who go free now.”

Y/N looked up from her cup with wide eyes and at Ellie as Fatima gasped.

“Yeah, I can’t remember what it was called…” As Ellie started thinking, a shadow appeared beside Y/N and she jumped. The tall red-haired man standing beside Y/N only smiled at her, holding a hands up to indicate he was friendly.

Fatima clicked her tongue. “Are you trying to give her a heart attack, Cam?”

“No, I’m sorry, darl,” the man said, looking at Y/N as he held a hand out for her to shake. “Just saw an unfamiliar face and thought I’d introduce myself, is all. I’m Cameron.”

Y/N took a huge breath, meeting Ellie’s eyes before looking at Cameron and shaking his hand. “Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he mused under his breath, nodding his head as his hand fell to his side again. “Haven’t seen you around here before, Y/N.”

“I’ve only been here a month now.”

“Too bad we didn’t meet earlier, then.”

Y/N’s eyes widened a bit, the compliment taking her off guard. She only chuckled some, wrapping both her hands around her cup as she looked down at the liquid in it.

“When did you come back, Cam?” Ellie asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Two weeks ago. Are you on vacation here then, Y/N?” Cameron didn’t even spare Ellie a look, his undivided attention on Y/N as she continued to stare at her drink.

But suddenly a pair of black Converse appeared beside her bare feet. She felt a hand on her lower back, a warm and comforting pressure that slowly trailed its way to her waist, wrapping his fingers around her curves and bringing her toward him. Her figure fell against his, fitting against his side as if they’d done this before.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re trying to pull, Cam,” Harry said, his voice steady and a little darker than normal. Maybe it was the effect of the alcohol he had drunk this far or it being late, Y/N didn’t know, but she knew she liked it.

Cameron was quiet for a second. “Your girlfriend? Mate, you got a girlfriend?”

“This is her,” Harry continued.

“Ah, I’m sorry, Haz.”

“Don’t apologise to me, apologise to my girlfriend.”

Cameron smiled, as if he couldn’t believe Harry, but he met Y/N’s eyes. “I apologise, I didn’t know.”

Y/N nodded, not really knowing what else to say or do. Cameron looked at the other three, saying a quick goodbye before buggering off. As he disappeared, Harry’s hand slid back around her waist as he came to stand in front of Y/N. She felt his touch along her forearm, rough fingers caressing her with such sensitivity as if he was afraid of crossing a line. Whenever he touched her like this, she could tell by the rough skin of his hands that he wasn’t used to being gentle like this; wasn’t used to being careful when touching someone else. His work made him have rough skin and maybe even a rough touch, but he was always so incredibly cautious when he reached for Y/N.

He slid his hand into hers, squeezing her fingers as she wrapped them around him. Their eyes met and upon seeing him in front of her, seeing him this close, she felt her eyes widen a bit. Though the entire reason why he was doing this was because there were people around watching them, it still felt like everyone was intruding on a special moment between the two of them.

“You okay? Saw he made you jump a bit,” Harry said, hooded and glassy eyes searching her face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just came up out of nowhere,” Y/N answered, offering a smile because she knew Harry’s concern was genuine.

Y/N wasn’t sure if Ellie or Fatima noticed Harry’s slight hesitance because by the sound of it, they were chatting amongst themselves, but Y/N did. Harry leaned in, eyes on hers till he closed them. Every single hair on Y/N’s body shot up as Harry pressed his lips gently against her cheek. He was covering her view of Ellie and Fatima, so the two couldn’t see the immediate shock on Y/N’s face. Their conversation halted, she was aware of that, but all her attention was focused on Harry’s lips and how hot her entire body got in the matter of a second. She closed her eyes, eyelashes brushing his skin. Harry pulled away, resting the right side of his forehead against her left for a few seconds. She wondered if he could feel how hard her heart was beating, how clammy her hands were. Could he tell she wanted to reach for his neck and hold him there, but she was carrying her cup and her other hand was already holding his? Could he feel her breaths on his neck like she could feel his? Did he want to stay like that, safe in each other’s company and unbothered by everyone else, for the rest of the night?

“I’m sure there are taxis driving about town if you two wanna go home,” Ellie said, and Fatima cursed her right away.

Harry took a step away from Y/N, clearing his throat as a familiar redness came to his cheeks. His hand was about to fall away from hers, but she gripped his harder, not ready to let go yet. He gave Fatima and Ellie a tight-lipped smile before meeting Y/N’s eyes again, the muscles in his face relaxing.

“El, I need a refill,” Fatima said, and though Y/N couldn’t read their faces yet, she could kind of tell what that meant.

“Let’s go get you a drink then. See you two in a bit.” Ellie and Fatima walked off, falling into conversation right away.

Harry made sure they were completely alone, that no one was eavesdropping before he said lowly, “Sorry if that was too much, I just… I just thought it’d look good, you know? To kiss my girlfriend- my pretend girlfriend around other people just to underline that we are… you know…”

Y/N nodded, biting her lips together as she watched Harry continue to try and find his words.

“Also, sorry if you wanted to chat to Cameron, I’m… I don’t want this to get in the way-“

“-I didn’t. I don’t.”

Silence stretched on, eyes on one another as the party continued around them. They didn’t have any regard for it as they kept their attention on one another. Y/N had answered so quickly and so honestly that it made her nervous when Harry didn’t say anything. Because it was true that she didn’t want to talk to Cameron, she didn’t know who he was and would probably never see him again. But she knew who Harry was, and she wanted to see him all the time. There was a comfort in his presence that settled over her like a warm, safe blanket. She liked being around him. She didn’t want to be near Cameron or anyone else.

“Do you think people think we’re a couple right now? Are we believable? Is this believable?” Harry mumbled.

Y/N giggled. “Well, you just kissed my cheek out of nowhere, I’d hope it’s somewhat believable and that they think we’re a couple.”

Harry laughed, looking down at their hands. “Yeah, it’s kind of… it’s kind of easy, isn’t it?”

Y/N frowned. “What is?”

“Being like this with you. I might feel like a right idiot when I take your hand or kiss your cheek, but you don’t make me feel like one.”

She smiled.

“It’s natural. Not that… that being in a relationship with you and acting like this is natural, I didn’t mean it like that, but it’s-“ He stopped himself looking up at her again as he bit his bottom lip, shrugging slightly. “-It’s like joking about with a friend and just having fun, feeling comfortable.”

“Yeah?”

“You know… I hope I don’t sound like a melt and I’m probably only able to say this ‘cause I’m a tad tipsy,” Harry said, and Y/N giggled. “But you’ve become one of my best friends. If not best friend, a very good one. Like… dunno, I can talk to you about anything, I don’t feel weird being silent around you, or saying or doing stuff that is weird, and I-I feel like you might feel the same way about me. At least I hope so.”

Her smile widened. “I do.”

He let out a small breath and Y/N chuckled.

“It’s sad that when this ends it’ll look weird if we remain friends, won’t it?” Y/N hated that she was thinking and talking about a time in the future they both knew was coming, but avoided talking about at all costs.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, do exes stay friends without it being weird to a degree? If you start dating someone for example, will our friends expect us to act a certain way, and if they do and we contradict their theory, will that make them suspicious of us?”

Harry furrowed his brows a little.

“I want to hang out with you and it’s sad to think that in August, we might have to part ways and never talk again ‘cause it’ll look… weird. Dunno, I haven’t really gone through this before.”

Harry let out a breathy chuckle. “Neither have I.”

Y/N laughed.

“I mean, I’ve gone through a break-up, but not like this.”

Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I haven’t talked to my ex since it happened.”

They were quiet for a moment as Harry digested Y/N’s choice of words. “You haven’t talked to your ex since you broke up either? Like, at all?”

“He, uhm, he’s sent me texts, but I don’t want to talk to him.”

Harry must have noticed how little Y/N wanted to talk about her ex, because he looked down at their hands again and let their conversation end there. Y/N held her cup out for him and Harry took it, looking at it. He raised his eyebrows, silently asking if she wanted any more of it, but she shook her head. He poured it out in the sand.

“You’re enjoying yourself?” Harry asked after a little while, wiping something off the corners of his mouth with his free index and thumb.

“The party?” Y/N met Harry’s eyes and then searched for Ellie and Fatima, she’d have to find them later. “Yeah, it’s nice. I like your friends.”

“There are a couple more who want me to introduce you, so we’ll have to do that later if it’s okay.”

“Of course.”

Harry’s eyes fell to the now empty cup. “And are you enjoying yourself in St Ives?”

Y/N smiled. “I am, it’s fun.” As she laid extra pressure on the last word, Harry looked up and as she raised her eyebrows, he knew she was referring to them and their fake relationship. He chuckled and Y/N watched him.

“Is it everything you hoped it’d be?”

She was unsure what he was referring to, but she said, “More.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she answered, folding her hands.

“So, you’re… you’re staying?” Pause. “Right?”

Confused, Y/N furrowed her brows at Harry, studying his face to try and find some sort of explanation to that utterance. She slowly opened her mouth, and said, “Staying?”

“Here.”

“On the beach?”

“No.”

“In St Ives?”

Something that could be interpreted as a nod happened, but no words left Harry’s lips. Instead, he continued to look at her, eyes searching her face as if he could find her answer somewhere there. A slight breeze blew past them, making a curl come loose and hang in front of Harry’s eye. He quickly pushed it away, not letting anything prevent him from seeing Y/N fully as she realised what Harry meant. Y/N felt his fingers brush her arm on their way down.

“Do you want me to stay?”

Harry didn’t say anything or nod this time around. Their eyes didn’t waver, looking at each other and not daring to look away. Y/N didn’t register till then how close they were standing. When the wind blew from behind Harry, she smelled his familiar scent and it made something inside her flutter. It was instinctive to look down at his lips, just as instinctive to look up and feel her breath hitch somewhere in her throat as she saw his lips part. Unapologetically, Harry’s eyes did the same that Y/N’s had done just a few seconds prior. A fire-hot shiver ran up her spine as he glanced at her lips, taking a step forward so that their hands rested against one another. Y/N wanted to look at his lips again, but she simply could not look away from his eyes. He was so close and she didn’t want to ruin it, didn’t want to look away.

“Do you think we’re believable now?” Harry whispered, his voice hoarse.

Y/N couldn’t bring herself to answer, she was waiting for something unspeakable; something that couldn’t be put into word for fear of the reality of those words being too raw, too true. She felt his curl against her forehead. His breath on her nose. Her body prickling with anticipation and confusion, unable to properly decipher if what was going on was all part of the show or if this was genuine. Harry was too respectable to make a move, and Y/N was too perplexed to do anything. If she kissed him, how would he feel? Would he take it as her being genuinely interested in him, or that they were just doing it to seem like a genuine couple? And if she kissed him, would she interpret it as her genuinely fancying him, or would she do it just to feed into their façade?

Before she could think about anything else, someone shouted something above the music and everyone else talking. It seemed to have caught quite a few people’s attention, because the volume on the beach lowered considerably. Harry tore his eyes away from Y/N and looked in the direction of the commotion. Y/N did as well, craning her neck to see beyond the group of people that were hugging and crowding what looked to be a new guest. Harry froze in front of Y/N and she looked at him, then back at the group.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“My…” Harry mumbled, pausing for some seconds. “Emilia.”

Y/N looked back at Harry. “Emilia?”

Harry nodded.

“Your ex?”

“The one who lived in Munich for two years, yeah.” Harry ran a hand through his hair before he met Y/N’s eyes. “I haven’t seen her since she came back, think she came back sometime last week.”

“Do you want to go say hi?”

“I…” Harry glanced in Emilia’s direction again, clearly thinking it over thoroughly. “I mean… yes, but… she’d meet you as well. She’d have to.”

“Why?”

“’Cause Dax won’t be able to keep himself from bringing up the fact that I have a new girlfriend. Pretend girlfriend, but… you know…”

Y/N nodded.

“If she knows I’m here and I’m with my new girlfriend, she’s gonna wanna meet you.”

She inhaled sharply. “Why would she want to meet the person you’re supposedly being intimate with now?”

Harry’s eyes grew wide for a single second before he composed himself, blinking himself back to reason. “Dunno. Emilia is very sociable. Just like you.”

“But she’d meet the person you’re with now, I don’t see why she’d want to meet them.”

“Maybe she’s happy for me, maybe she wants to meet someone who supposedly makes me happy,” Harry offered, shrugging his shoulders.

Y/N stared at him for a few seconds. “I know you said she didn’t want to be with you ‘cause it affected her mental health, and I get that, but leaving you when you were at your lowest is still an awful thing to do.”

Harry glanced at Y/N.

“And then not talking to you for two years after just sodding off to Munich. She doesn’t know what you’ve been through since then, do you think she’s gonna care now?”

Harry furrowed his brows. “Y/N, I loved Emilia.”

“I’m aware, but the people we love don’t have to love us back the same way we love them. One part always ends up loving more, feeling more, doing more. We can’t choose how much we love someone, and we don’t have a say in how they love us, but the fact of the matter is that if you love someone, you act like it. You let them know.”

Harry didn’t say anything, he just bit the inside of his cheek and continued to look at Y/N.

“I’m fully aware you loved Emilia, probably still do, but it doesn’t sit right with me that she just removed herself like that completely. You’re not a toxic person, you were just going through a rough time.”

“Harry!” Amir shouted, waving Harry and Y/N over. “Harry, mate!”

Harry watched Y/N for a few more seconds, probably either debating what she’d just said or losing every shred of respect he had for her, Y/N didn’t know. He nodded in the direction of everyone and the two started walking there, strolling the distance in silence. She didn’t know how she was supposed to interpret said silence, if it was a good kind or if he just didn’t want to talk to her for the rest of the night because he had taken offense to what she’d said.

When they reached the group, they made space for Harry and Y/N, and the first thing Y/N noticed was the brunette standing on the opposite side to the circle from them. Her blue eyes lit up when she saw Harry and she smiled at him instantly, clearly happy to see him after two years of no contact.

“Hi,” she exclaimed, crossing the circle, and giving Harry a hug. “It’s so good to see you again.”

“Yeah, you too,” Harry said. “How was Munich?”

“Amazing, I’m moving there permanently after University, I’m sure.” Emilia stepped away from Harry and immediately, her eyes fell on Y/N. “And this must be the girlfriend.”

Harry and Y/N’s eyes met, Harry raising his eyebrows in a quick “told you so”, which made Y/N smile some before turning back to Emilia.

“Yes, I guess I am. And you’re the ex.”

Harry shifted uncomfortably, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans as he looked from Y/N to Emilia and back again. It was evident that the rest of the group, and quite a few others as well, were watching this interaction with keen interest. They were probably waiting for one of them to start a fight and the other one to feed into it, something Harry would step in to stop and take sides, which would ultimately just end badly. It was clearly something a lot of people thought would be great entertainment. But Y/N kept her cool, not wanting to sound passive aggressive or make Harry uncomfortable. Though she was not impressed with Emilia’s past actions, she wasn’t about to judge her solely on them. Y/N hoped she was right not to.

“I am, it’s been so long since I’ve seen Harry.” Emilia looked back at Harry, considerably smaller than him, looking up at him through her lashes. “That rain check you were talking about, you could make up for it by walking me over to get a cup?”

Y/N looked at Harry, about to open her mouth and ask what rain check Emilia was talking about, but she realised it was none of her business. And questioning Harry like this in front of everyone would just feed into everything everyone wanted. So, Y/N just crossed her arms over her chest.

“Actually, we’re about to leave,” Harry said, giving Emilia a small smile.

Emilia pouted. “Really? It’ll only take you a minute.”

Harry opened his mouth to inhale hugely, looking over at Y/N who hoped he could tell she didn’t like this. But Harry met Emilia’s eyes again, taking a step back and Emilia grinned as the two started walking towards the table in the middle of the beach with all the cups. Y/N watched them, how easily they fell into conversation and how eager Emilia was to talk to Harry again. While witnessing this, Y/N kept reminding herself of what Harry had said earlier, about her becoming one of his closest friends. She hoped repeating that moment to herself would prevent her from getting hurt and sad and angry, but it didn’t. When turning back toward the gang, she realised both Ellie and Dax were watching Harry and Emilia as well. And upon taking a look around, she realised Jo, Amir, and Fatima were as well. Y/N didn’t know for what purpose, but if Dax’s tense jaw was any indicator, it couldn’t have been for a particularly good reason.

Why would Harry do that? Though Y/N wasn’t in a relationship with him, it was still embarrassing for her to have to stand there and wait for him. She felt ridiculous when Fatima met her eyes again, giving her an apologetic smile, one Y/N – Harry’s fake girlfriend – didn’t deserve, but she appreciated it nevertheless. Because despite everything, this hurt. She dug her nails into her upper arms as she stood there, mad at Harry for the first time ever. Though it had been gormless of Emilia to ask in the first place, Harry hadn’t really needed much persuasion.

As Emilia and Harry’s voices got louder, the gang started up a light conversation that Y/N pretended to be part of. She only gave Harry a slight glance before looking back at Dax who was talking, the guy not giving the returning two any of his attention either. Y/N wondered if Dax thought the same way about Emilia’s behaviour as she did, but then again, it wasn’t like Y/N could take Dax aside and ask him that. If Y/N sought Dax out to talk about Harry’s ex, it wouldn’t look good.

“Ready to leave?” Y/N asked, reaching into her tote bag for her cardigan. Some of her passive aggressiveness was detectable in her voice, she hoped no other than Harry picked up on it. She was still tipsy so she blamed her incapability to hold back on that.

“Yeah,” Harry said, standing very still as he watched Y/N put her cardigan on. Once it was on, she smiled at everyone, and then looked at Harry as he directed a “See ya, yeah?” at everyone. Though Dax was visibly sad the two were leaving, he seemed to know why they were bailing because he didn’t ask them why or stop them. Y/N put her shoes back on and the two started on their way back up the hill that led to the car park.

It was unexpected when Harry reached for her hand, intertwining his fingers with hers so slowly and so deliberately that she felt it in every single one of her cells. Though it was nice to feel him there, she had to bite her lip from saying anything as they walked up Burrow Road. The second they were out of sight and alone, Y/N let go of his hand. This wasn’t something Harry would’ve usually paid much attention had he not heard her passive aggression just a few moments earlier.

“Is it Emilia?” Harry asked.

It was stupid how the only time Harry managed to be blunt and upfront was when he knew he was in trouble or if someone was annoyed with him. At least Y/N thought so.

She straightened her back, wrapping her cardigan tighter around herself. “What about Emilia?”

“Is that why you’re all… mad? Dunno if mad is the best word.”

“Think it describes how I’m feeling perfectly,” Y/N said. “’Cause I’d say I’m mad with a dash of disappointed.”

Harry looked over at her, frowning again. “Why?”

“Why am I mad you walked over there with Emilia?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders exaggeratingly. “Call it intuition, call it paranoia, call it whatever you bloody want, but I think she wants you back now that you’re not broken up about your Dad anymore.”

Harry took a few seconds to say, “I’ll call that stupidity.”

The laugh that left Y/N was anything but friendly and warm. “Fine. Do whatever you want.”

“Why are you so mad about this anyway? It’s not like we’re…” Harry stopped himself, looking over at Y/N who refused to look at him. “It’s not like we’re a couple.”

“It’s still embarrassing. I was left standing there while my boyfriend walked off with his ex. You don’t even want to admit that what you did was stupid.”

“’Cause it’s not, we just walked down to that table so she could get herself a cup.”

Y/N sighed, running her hands over her face. “Yes, it’s an innocent act and I probably have no right to act like this, but I’m being a friend. I’m trying to look out for you.”

“Are you?”

“What?”

“Being a friend, looking out for me?”

Y/N looked at him, seeing his set jaw and piercing eyes. “Why wouldn’t I look out for you?”

“Right now you just seem mad I hung out with my ex.”

She glanced away again, so frustrated with him that she felt like screaming. They reached Back Road, Y/N walking straight ahead to take the quickest way back to the Inn, Harry was turning right to Clodgy. “Interpret it any way you want, Harry. I’m being truthful when I tell you I just want what’s best for you.”

There was a pause as Harry watched Y/N cross the road. “You’re just gonna leave like that? You don’t wanna talk it out?”

“You don’t understand where I’m coming from, Harry!” Y/N exclaimed as she faced him, turning her back on the dark alleyway behind her. “What’s the point?!”

“Y/N, it’s not like I’m making out with Emilia in front of everyone!”

“I know, but that small act of just walking down there has a lot of meaning! She wants to make up for lost time!”

“You’re just reading too much into this!”

“And you think the best of people who hurt you!”

“She left for her own good, don’t blame her for that!”

“I’m not! I just think it’s odd to not check up on you in those two years following your breakup when you were clearly having a tough time when she left!”

“Oh, my days, Y/N.” Harry ran his hands over his face and through his hair.

“I know you want to see the best in everyone, but I’ve experienced people fucking me over ‘cause I gave them the benefit of the doubt. Multiple times. I’m not doing that again, I’m-I’m just not. And I don’t want to watch that same thing happen to you.”

Harry blinked when Y/N cursed, but quickly regained himself. “I can take care of myself!”

“I’m just being a friend and looking out for you, I’m sorry if-“

“-And what if I don’t want you to look out for me as a friend?!”

Y/N was about to answer, but she felt something brush against her back and then a figure moving out of the dark alleyway behind her. Her heart skipped a beat and the next thing she knew, she felt it in her throat. She jumped out of the way, stepping just in the crack between two cobblestones and stumbling away from the stranger. The man looked at Y/N as she regained her balance, about to reach his hand out to help her when Harry rushed across the road. Y/N managed herself, but she took another step away from the stranger who genuinely looked baffled as to what had just happened. Y/N put a hand over her heart, feeling it beating furiously. Calm down, calm down, calm down, she told herself, feeling safer the second Harry put a hand to her upper arm.

“You alright, miss?” the man asked, looking at Harry who was standing beside Y/N, making sure she was okay.

“Sorry,” Y/N said, doing her best to give him a smile. “I’m just a bit jumpy. And a tad drunk.”

He laughed joyously before continuing on his way, and the second he turned away, Y/N’s face fell. Harry noticed and turned her to face him, squeezing her shoulders so she’d look at him. She balled her hands into fists as she felt her heart beating hard, calming down from the sudden rush of adrenaline.

“You’re okay,” he said, recognising her reaction from that first time she read to him in the grass beside the lighthouse.

Y/N nodded, meeting Harry’s eyes and telling herself it was all fine. She would be fine. Harry was here and nothing would happen to her while he was here. She continued to look at him till she was calmer, but the thought of walking down that dark alleyway now made her want to hurl. However, she didn’t have any other place to walk and she had to get back somehow. Maybe she could call Bessie and talk to her, or maybe she could find another and maybe longer route back. But then she’d be out in the open longer than she initially wanted to.

“Have you always been like that?” Harry asked, the question curious and without any hint of judgement.

“Like what?”

“Paranoid.”

Y/N smiled a little as if that would brighten the mood that had fallen considerably. Slowly, she nodded, averting her eyes from Harry’s. “I like being prepared for anything, for any possible outcome.”

Harry didn’t remove his hands from where they rested on her shoulders.

“So, I either make them up, or if something happens unexpectedly, my brain does this thing where it tells me that the worst possible thing is happening, and I need to escape.”

“What’s the worst possible thing that can happen?”

“In any scenario?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N watched as someone turned every light in their flat off, wishing she was in her bed right now. “That my Dad finds me.”

Harry stayed quiet.

“He terrifies me. Always has. I know he won’t hurt me, but… he’s a bad man, Harry. A very bad man.”

“He won’t come here, Y/N. You’re safe in St Ives.”

Some part of her laughed at that, but when she met his eyes, she knew he genuinely meant it. If Harry was there, he would not let anything happen to her. No matter what. Even if they had a disagreement the second before her Dad showed up. But her father knew where she was and if he wanted her back, he would do what he could to get her back. A lighthouse keeper wouldn’t stand in his way.

Y/N felt her bottom lip starting to wobble at the thought of it, and she put a hand in front of her mouth when the back of her eyes started to sting.

“Hey,” Harry said, squeezing her shoulders. “Let’s go back to mine, yeah? You won’t have to be alone.”

She met his eyes, blinking a few times as she processed his offer. “Yours?”

“Yeah, if you’re a bit shaken up, I thought you might… might not want to be alone.”

Without really registering what she was doing, Y/N was nodding her head to answer his question. “If you’re sure I won’t be a burden in any way-“

“-Flower, you’re never.”

She almost thought she heard him incorrectly. Flower. She had never gotten a nickname before. Her friends back home used to call her ‘babe’ and her mother would sometimes call her ‘sweetheart’ and Bessie referred to her as ‘dear’, but never this one. She suddenly felt a little lightheaded.

Harry wrapped an arm around her and held her to him as they walked through the city. He hummed to The Power of Love as they strolled, keeping the empty and quiet streets of St Ives alive as long as they were walking through them. Y/N looked about them, staring down alleyways and streets, sometimes being too afraid to even to study the shadows or look to make out silhouettes in the darkness. Harry’s humming kept her grounded and reminded her that she wasn’t alone. Once they were walking along the road up to Clodgy Point, Harry let go of her, letting her walk by herself. It was starting to get a bit chilly when the winds of the moors started up around them, so Y/N reached for Harry’s knitted jumper in her tote bag and gave it to him. He was a bit taken aback by that, seemingly having forgotten it was there, but he thanked her, the only two words being uttered at all on their 30-minute walk up to the lighthouse.

Harry unlocked the door and walked in first, turning the light on the coffee table on as Y/N locked the front door. He opened a window to let some air in, then took his jumper and shoes off. Y/N did the same, wrapping her arms around herself. She was aware it had been Harry’s idea for her to stay here, but she suddenly felt like she was intruding. This was his space and his bedtime routine. They had walked off most of their drunkenness, so when Y/N tripped over her own feet a bit, it was purely from exhaustion. Harry was almost about to reach out and catch her even though he was across the room, but his dedication to help her made her chuckle a little. Harry smiled at the sound of it.

Y/N put her tote bag on one of the chairs, putting her cardigan over the back of it as well.

“I…” Harry started, making Y/N look over at where he stood by his dresser. “I have a few shirts and stuff if you wanna freshen up some.”

Y/N chuckled. “What do you mean?”

Realising he probably didn’t make sense, Harry let a breath escape his lips as well. “I meant, if you wanna have a shower, I’ll lend you a tee shirt.”

The thought of showering in Harry’s space seemed almost a bit surreal, but for some reason, also completely normal. She spent so much time here and with him that in a way, it was weird that she hadn’t showered here before. She slowly nodded her head, and Harry opened a drawer, pulling out an old tee white shirt with a small Elton John logo on the chest.

“Towels,” Harry said, walking over to his tiny bathroom and turning the lights on for her. “They’re here, and I got everything you might need in the shower. There’s an unused toothbrush in the cabinet under the sink.”

“Thank you.”

Harry gave her a smile before closing the door. Taking a breather first, the next thing Y/N did was get undressed and take that shower. She washed away the argument with Harry and the reason why it was cut off so abruptly; tried to soak herself in everything else that happened tonight that made her entire body warm. When Harry kissed her cheek; the way his hot lips felt against her skin, how the thought of that moment alone made her feel some type of way. She knew Harry only did it so everyone would think they were a couple, but her cheek was tingling.

She got out of the shower, drying herself off, and putting Harry’s tee shirt on, her skirt under it. Yes, the two were starting to get comfortable around one another, but she wasn’t sure if they were just there yet. Last thing she wanted to do was walk out there in her knickers and one of his tee shirts, then make him uncomfortable in any way. Though she felt like a raisin since she was not doing her usual post-shower skin routine, nor any hair products for her hair, she told herself she’d do it tomorrow when she was back to the Inn.

She walked outside to see Harry laying in his bed, his small telly that was stood by his couch, turned around so he could watch a rerun of an old Would I Lie To You episode. When the bathroom door opened, he instantly looked in her direction, placing his hands on either side of his form as if he got ready to get up. Their eyes met and his eyes fell to her tee shirt, where the material hugged her waist firmly. He met her eyes again, swallowing thickly before he gestured beside him at two glasses of water.

“One by the window is yours.”

“I’m literally so thirsty, thank you.”

Harry smiled, walking past Y/N and into the bathroom, going to take his own shower. Y/N sat down in Harry’s bed, nuzzling under the covers and taking a hold of her glass. She brought it to her lips, sipping it till it was empty, watching the telly as she did. She got up for a refill, drank half, and then just continued to watch the telly for a bit. The light in the room was dim enough so she could easily fall asleep, and she almost did drift off against the headboard, but then Harry exited the bathroom and woke her up with a start.

“Oh!” he exclaimed. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

She smiled, sinking down into the pillow. “Almost went off to dreamland there.”

“Soz.”

“I’m a light sleeper, it’s not your fault.”

Harry nodded, walking over to turn the lights off, the only light in the entire little cottage now being the light from the telly. He strolled over to the fridge and took a cucumber out. Y/N watched him as he brought a knife out, cutting it up in half.

“You hungry?” he asked.

“Just brushed my teeth.”

“So did I, but after I’ve been out, I usually eat half a cucumber before bed.”

Y/N stared at him.

“What?”

“Just… just a cucumber? Nothing else?”

“What else? Do you spice your cucumber? With what?” Harry looked at his little box of spices by his stove. “Onion granules?”

Y/N laughed, placing her hands on the duvet above her stomach.

“I actually had jalfrezi leftovers after we went to the pub a few weeks ago,” Harry said as he came over to the bed, giving Y/N half the cucumber. “So I dipped my cucumber in that and ate it.”

Y/N grimaced. “Were you still pissed?”

“No,” Harry chuckled. “I just like cucumber and Indian food.”

“Fair enough.”

Harry picked up one of his quilts and sat down in bed beside Y/N, draping it over himself so she could have the duvet for herself. He bit into his half of the cucumber, completely unfazed as his eyes fell on the telly. Y/N tried not to laugh, but he looked so incredibly cute, munching on his cucumber and smiling at something Rob Brydon said. He must’ve noticed her not eating, because he looked down at where she laid in bed, raising his eyebrows.

“You weren’t hungry?”

“It’s not that.”

“It’s honestly refreshing.” Harry took another bite. “I love it.”

That made her smile and she took a bite of her cucumber as well, Harry watching her as she chewed and then swallowed.

“Well…? Your verdict?”

“It’s just a cucumber.”

Harry rolled his eyes, making Y/N laugh again. “You’re humiliating.”

“Says the person who eats half a cucumber before bed!”

“I’m quirky!”

Laughing again, the two fell into comfortable silence as they watched the rest of the Would I Lie To You episode. Though the idea of eating half a cucumber hadn’t been very appealing to begin with, it did make her feel a bit better. She didn’t know she’d been hungry till now, the cucumber and the two glasses of water had done a well enough job to fill her stomach up before bed, so she didn’t bother asking Harry if she could make herself a toastie. Instead, Y/N found her eyes falling shut, her entire body relaxing completely. All the worry and the paranoia and the fight earlier all came together now, making her so tired she could barely stand to keep her eyes open. Her entire body ached with the effort it took to stay awake. She stayed as close to the wall as possible, where she could look out across the dimly lit lightkeeper house.

Y/N felt the move as Harry reached out to the windowsill. He sat back, screwing the lid open, revealing a balm of some sort. He rubbed his middle finger in it, slowly sliding it along the thick balm till his finger was wet with it. Y/N bit her bottom lip. For some reason, she thought he was going to smear it across his own lips, some sort of cream to help keep his lips moisturised. No, instead Harry dragged his finger under his eyes. Not directly under his eyes, but along his cheekbones, slowly and gently.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked through a yawn.

Harry looked away from the telly and at her. “Face cream.”

“You put it on before bed?”

“It helps me sleep, it’s made of lavender and apricot. Both are supposed to help you fall into a deep sleep.”

“Can I try?”

“Yeah.” Harry handed it over, leaning his head back against the headboard, watching Y/N as she smelled it.

“Lush.”

“It is.”

Y/N rubbed her finger in it, putting it along under her eye. She was aware Harry was keeping an eye on her, but she pretended to find the programme incredibly interesting right then. She heard a slight chuckle.

“Not directly under your eyes,” Harry said. “Not there.” He leaned over, taking a delicate grip of her wrist and moving her hand down. “Here.” His hand moved upward to cup hers, his little finger, ring finger, and middle finger hooking themselves tenderly between her thumb and index. His index rested on top of hers as he guided her hand slowly and gently, tipping his head to the side to rest against the headboard while he concentrated. She didn’t dare look away from the telly, too overwhelmed to do anything but let him help her.

“Then the other eye,” he mumbled, telling her what was going to happen next. Because without warning, he dipped his finger in the balm Y/N was holding, swirling his finger slowly around till it was moist. When he did that, she simply could not help herself, and her eyes fell to look at his hand, taken aback by what was happening. However, she didn’t move or tell him to stop when Harry brought his hand up, sliding it over her cheekbone. Soft, slow, graceful. A prickling hot sensation followed where he touched, slowly spreading through her entire body. She looked away from the balm and at Harry, the second she did, he glanced back at her. A slight breath left her lips, Harry’s eyes falling to them. She sat up, finding the lid and placing it back on the balm. She handed it back to Harry.

Harry took it, placing it back in the windowsill before he got up from bed. Y/N lay back down, quickly checking the pulse on her neck because she knew her heart was beating hard. If it beat hard enough, would it somehow make the bed creak? Was it possible her heartbeat made her entire body shake like that? Just in case, Y/N switched so she was laying on her side. She watched as Harry turned the telly off, the room falling into complete darkness. Y/N closed her eyes, realising for the first time in a minute or two how sleepy she actually was.

It took a second or two before she felt the bed move and creak as he sat down. He shuffled till he was comfortable laying on his side facing her. Only reason she knew that was because she heard his content sigh and felt his breath on her face. It had been quiet for a minute or so before Harry whispered her name.

“Hm?” she asked, opening her eyes slightly. She could not make out much, but she thought she might’ve seen him looking at her. That might also just be her imagination playing tricks on her.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” he said, his voice a whisper.

“I’m sorry, too.”

“I know you’re just looking out for me and I’m sorry if it was embarrassing for you when I did that.”

“I’m sorry I criticised her for leaving you when it was bad for her mental health, I just know that it can’t have been easy to have been in your shoes just then, so that break up can’t have been easy to deal with on top of everything else.”

Silence stretched on for a few seconds. “It wasn’t. But I don’t blame her for leaving if that was what was best for her.”

Y/N closed her eyes again. “Okay.”

She felt the bed move again as Harry found a new position that was more comfortable. The pillow she rested her head on moved a bit, she reckoned he slung his arm over the top of her head.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry said, voice slurring now as well.

“Night.”

“My alarm will go off at 3am, by the way.”

She smiled. “I know.”

She heard him let out a slight breath, sounding like a small chuckle, and the next thing she knew, she was having the slumber of her life.

NEXT UPDATE: Sunday, 27 September, 9PM GMT!

Vote for ST here ✨

A HUGE thank you to my amazing and beautiful beta readers! 🌊 @aileenacoustic​ 🌊 @bopbopstyles​ 🌊 @fromyourstrulyh​ 🌊 @harrys-creature 🌊 @summerfeelng 🌊 @watermelonsuger​​ 🌊  @withallthelove-a​​ 🌊 

[adorethedistance]

Something to Lose - Luke Patterson X Covington!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: luke imagine idea so Luke’s old gf is dead and she’s calebs daughter and is trying to get him to stay with her instead of cross over and then he doenst show up in stand tall . I just had this idea and near had a fit trying to get it down love ur writing also 💖

Warnings: angst, a lot of crying, I don’t even think there’s swearing in this one.

Words: 2293

A/n: I hope I did the request justice. This was kinda stressful the entire time writing it just bc of all the ideas that came. Like I’d be writing and then my brain would be like ‘hey what if this happened’ and then I’m like ‘oh that’s evil. put it in the fic.’ you know?

I begin nervously playing with the tulle skirt of my above-the-knee length party dress. I wanted a mini but dad refused to let me be visible to ghosts and lifers in anything ‘revealing’, so we compromised on above the knee. It’s a pretty dress, the black long sleeves are sheer and the back is completely open, and that’s as scandalous as dad would allow. Ironic considering his dancers’ costumes are cut out fringe leotards and nude tights.

And speaking of dancers,

“Who was that?” I ask Francesca as she comes to stand next to me by the black music stands, branded with the infamous Hollywood Ghost Club logo.

“Who was who?”She takes a tiny sip of water and readjusts her massive blue and purple feather headdress. Dad always chooses the most extravagant costumes. Sometimes I wonder how they’re able to dance without falling over from being so… top heavy I guess?

“That guy you were dancing in front of in the denim coat?”

“What are you talking about? I was dancing in front of Willie.”

“Nice try, I know that was Angie. Maybe next time.” On the first day the girls set foot in the place they were such amazing dancers, dad invited them to perform front and center if they wanted to join the club. The downside was he could never tell them apart. I don’t know how though, they’re not indiscernibly identical. I made it my goal to always be able to tell them apart, and they made it their goal to get me to mix them up just once.

“We’re gonna get you one of these days.”

“Yeah, sure. But, uh, do you know who he is?”

“I don’t but maybe you will?”

“What?” Glancing up to Fran’s face she gives me a look and directs me with her eyes before smiling smugly and walking away. I follow her gaze to see my dad standing on the far side of their table, talking with the attractive stranger. His excitement makes his every movement animated and he can’t even seem to string a coherent sentence. Inviting them to sit down, dad starts saying something about Willie and magic? The conversation doesn’t last long and once he leaves, I debate whether or not to approach the handsome stranger.

“Who are we looking at?” I’m startled when I hear Angie’s voice in my right ear.

“Oh. The one at the front table in the denim overcoat.”

“You mean the one Franny was dancing in front of?”

“She already tried that.”

“Dammit!” I laugh at yet another failed attempt.

“I don’t even know why you guys bother anymore.”

“Whatever. Why are we staring at him?”

“I’m debating whether or not I should talk to him.” Angie sends me a look that says ‘have more faith in yourself’ which I gleefully ignore.

“Shoot your shot. What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My dad could interrupt and say something totally embarrassing. He wasn’t done talking to them, he just had to do rounds.”

“Girl, have you seen how many people are here tonight? He’s not gonna be done any time soon, so go while you still have some time!” Angie punctuates her sentence by gently pushing me forward, and I stumble in the direction of the cute stranger. The sudden jerky movement seems to catch his attention and his eyes soften once they meet mine. He smiles softly as a greeting and when I return the look, he takes that as an invitation to walk my way. I’m standing in the middle of the dance floor, frozen partially out of fear and partly out of curiosity.

“Hey, I’m Luke,” denim extends his hand politely and… extremely flusteredly? He sounds breathless and a touch fearful. I’m used to the energy as the club intimidates first-timers. I take his hand,

“Y/n.” Omitting my last name tends to do me a lot of good.

“Wow. That’s really pretty,”

“It’s nothing special.”

“You’re really pretty.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“So, uh-“ he trails off in search of a conversation starter, “What brings you to the Hollywood Ghost Club?”

“Oh, you know... just uhm- just a night out.”

“Do you come to the Club a lot?”

“You could say that. It’s pretty much a second home.”

“Y/n, darling. There you are!” Luke watches my face drop from its pleasant ‘chatting with guests’ expression, to a relaxed almost-frown.

“Here I am.”

“And I see you’ve met Luke.”

“Yes sir.”

“I trust my daughter is keeping you in good company?”

“Your daughter?” Luke nearly chokes on the mystical air of the Hollywood Ghost Club.

“I did not choke!”

“You choked.” Luke and I argue over the details of how we met, in the backstage/dressing room area of the Club. It feels like lifetimes ago, but it wasn’t. And yet in such a short time, we had become completely infatuated and comfortable with one another. So much so that me wearing a floor-length evening gown and jewels doesn’t make me feel out of place with his jeans and flannel shirt.

Despite my light laughter, Luke’s face is fairly flat. He’s beginning to stare off into space, inattentive from our lull in the conversation.

“Hey, you okay?” He snaps back into reality.

“Uh, yeah.”

“You don’t sound so sure.” After a long moment of hesitation, he begins to speak, not looking up from the scuff on the linoleum flooring.

“Y/n, I have something to tell you.”

“What’s up?”

“The boys and I… We… we have unfinished business…”

“Of course you do. That’s why you’re here- why all of us are here.”

“We’re gonna play the Orpheum tonight. At seven.”

“That’s so cool! Tha-” I feel my words trapped in my throat. “That’s your unfinished business... Play the show you never got to before you died.” I feel a well of tears flooding my bottom lash line. They’re not tears of sadness. “That’s your unfinished business. And you’re playing there tonight. Why didn’t you tell me as soon as you found out?!” I cry out in anguish. Luke’s face falls from a somber reluctance to break the news, to utter heartbreak.

“Y/n, I-”

“I thought we had something.”

“We do!”

“Then why would you wait to tell me until,” I check the analog clock on the wall behind him, “An hour before you go?!”

“I wanted to enjoy our last day together without having to think about it. I didn’t think it’d make you this angry.”

“Well, I am angry, Luke!” My sentence is punctuated by Luke getting zapped by a jolt of electricity. He groans as he tries to remain standing upright. The tears streaming down my face slow from a mix of anger to extreme worry.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Your dad gave us a ‘club stamp’ that first night we left.” My face falls slack as I register what he’s just said. Without another word, I furiously push out of my chair and out of the dressing room. Each stride is larger than the last as I let my legs carry me into the wings of the Club’s circular stage. When I have the familiar silver tinsel entrance in sight, I stop cold in my tracks. In front of me stands Alex, in a dazzling pink coat and diamond-covered oxfords, and Reggie, in a luxurious red vest and coat covered in black floral detailing. In front of them stands my father in his extravagant purple number that’s reminiscent of his outfits he wore when performing.

My frustrated steps carried me into his sight and the volume of my strides drew the two boys’ attention behind them. Luke. Luke stupidly followed me out here, and father merely looks at me and blinks authoritatively before redirecting his gaze onto my boyfriend.

“There you are. I knew I was missing a third musketeer.” With a snap of his fingers, dad has poofed Luke out from behind me and poofs him back in between his bandmates. When he reappears he’s wearing a deep blue suit with a black, tiered chiffon collar and bowtie.

“Isn’t it nice that you’re all here together?” Dad launches into his huge speech, seemingly convincing them to stay at the club. He mentions everything they want can be theirs here like Willie, the glory of performing, connection with an audience. As he speaks, he steps forward and reaches up. I go to yell and reach for Luke, but nothing comes out. There’s no sound coming from my mouth, and the undersurface of my black heels feel frozen solid to the ground. Dad notices my movement and shoots me a look to knock it off. Luke sees and as he moves to turn his head, dad reaches up to keep his focus forward before adjusting Luke’s collar for him. He continues with his big speech as another jolt graces all three boys at once.

“I suggest you accept my offer because the clock is ticking,” he downs one more sip of water, preparing to perform, “Ouch. You know where to find me.”

When he disappears onto the stage, I’m released from my spot and the momentum of my struggling launches me forward. Luke turns around just in time to catch me and once he does he doesn’t release me from his arms.

“Luke, I didn’t-”

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He holds me in his arms, one hand on my head to cradle me close to his chest and the other wrapped soothingly around my waist.

“He’s right,” I choke out my words through heavy sobs, “You don’t know that the Orpheum is really your unfinished business. What if it’s not? These jolts could kill you, Luke. For good. My dad may be powerful, but he doesn’t have the power to bring you back from this.”

When I look up, Luke has a heartbroken expression painted all over his face. Before I can speak again, Alex poofs out from beside us. Sharing a worried expression, Luke and I look out onto the stage where dad has him soloing front and center.

“I-I-I, I made a-a promise-”

“To Julie, I know. But if she’s really as wonderful, and as kind, and understanding, and loving as you describe her to be, won’t she understand?” Luke’s expression softens in realization.

“You’re actually considering staying with Caleb?” Reggie asks Luke incredulously. Before he can receive an answer, he, too, is poofed out onto the stage in Alex’s previous spot, to play a jazzy bass solo. Luke looks all around the backstage area, at the audience, between his band members, and at my dad. Finally, his eyes settle on mine. I can’t read his expression; I wish I knew what was going on inside his head.

“Stay.”

Luke and I run out of time when dad calls his name. He’s poofed us apart so I’m frozen against the downstage wall, out of sight from the audience, and Luke is struggling his way onto the stage.

Dad has him soloing for the audience, to create a musical dialogue between the two of them. Luke, conflicted, looks between me and my dad unsure of how to feel. The performer side of him must be loving the high that comes with performing in the club, but the loyal side of him, I can tell, is yearning for Julie.

When the song ends, the three boys share a single look of concern and remorse, no doubt for Julie. I can’t help but feel selfish asking him to stay. It’s not fair for me to ask him to choose between me and her... But that’s not what I’m asking. If all three of them stay here, they don’t risk dying for good. Surely Julie can understand choosing life, or the afterlife rather, over freedom is a rational trade.

Coming to his senses Luke runs off stage.

“Y/n-”

“It’s selfish of me to ask you to stay-”

“I’m staying.”

“What?”

“I don’t want to die, Y/n. If that means I have to play in your dad’s band, fine. But at least we can be together.” Luke runs the pad of his thumb across my cheek to wipe away the tear shed out of joy. Our moment is ended when Alex and Reggie have also returned backstage.

“Boys, if we stay here, we’ll get to live and make music for as long as we want.”

“You said it yourself, we made a promise. To Julie.” Reggie almost looks like he wants to cry.

“If this is what you want- to spend eternity playing jazz solos behind Caleb -I can’t stop you. But I’m not gonna let Julie down. Not again.” Alex searches Luke’s face for any hesitation. When he doesn’t find the change of heart he’s looking for, Alex nods and fidgets with his drumsticks in one hand. The sudden swell of emotion leads the two of them to hug each other tightly; I can’t imagine their pain of knowing they might never see each other again. When they let go, Luke and Reggie share in a hug and the heartache pulls Alex into their hug.

“Can you do me a favor?” Luke asks, sniffling away a few tears. Reggie and Alex nod,

“Anything.”

“Will you tell Julie she’s a star for me, one last time?” A sharp jolt hits the three of them in unison once more; a signal that it’s really time to say goodbye. With sorrowful smiles, Alex and Reggie poof out of the Hollywood Ghost Club for the last time.

When he turns around, Luke’s face is red and puffy from crying and the sight breaks my heart clean in half. I pull him into a hug and press a lingering kiss to his cheek.

“I love you, Luke.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

***

A/n: YOWZA this really made my heart hurt for Julie sm. I love her and if this were canon I’d have actually kermit.

Taglist: @caitsymichelle13 @kaitlyn2907 @itz-jas @crybabyddl @kcd15 @kinda-really-lost @calamitykaty @morganayennefertyrell @n0wornever @dream-a-little-bigger-x @mrstodorooki @vicesvsvirturesfanfic @curlybrownhairedboys @amazinggracy @kaitieskidmore1 @asdfghjkl-fanfics @ghostlygreenbean @juliefromaustralia @merceret @jemimah-b99 @ifilwtmfc @thesweetestsinner @imsydneywalker @lovesanimals @thebloodthirstyvampress @bumbleberry-pie @losers-club6 @tefilovesreading @dmcfarland1@joynerxmercer @kexrtiz @talk-on-the-street @phantompogues @konciousdreamer @sunsetcurvej

[luminescencefics]

fade in, fade out - part nine preview

January 2016

When Nora finally emerges from the lobby of her shared apartment with Ebony and her boyfriend, the warm California sun warming her bare shoulders almost instantly, she never thought the first person she would run into would be none other than Will Clemonte.

“You are one difficult person to track down, Nora Priestley,” he says, forgoing an appropriate greeting.

“Will?” Nora says, shocked. It feels as if her sandal-clad feel are permanently frozen to the concrete flooring, her eyes squinting in front of her to block out the sun as she takes in the boy she hasn't seen in well over a year.

Nora could spot Will anywhere without really thinking about it, if she’s being completely honest with herself. His hair is still messy and blonde, the bridge of his nose is still smattered with freckles, the blue of his eyes still feels like glass mirrors, and somehow it’s both frightening and welcoming to her.

With a nod and his infamous grin, Will adds, “Who would've thought it would take traveling all the way to your coast just to realize that you've been hiding on mine this whole time?”

Nora can’t help but give him a shy giggle in return.

She watches as his deep grin slowly fades off his face, his eyes darting to the ground below and Nora gulps, knowing he didn’t show up on her doorstep just to catch up for old times’ sake.

“I tried calling you after the funeral, but it just felt insincere. I guess I didn’t know what to say to you over the phone, because how do I apologize for all that you’ve been through without sounding like a complete and utter dick?”

Nora isn't sure what to say, so Will takes that as his cue to continue speaking.

“I sent flowers to your apartment in New York, but they were returned to sender because you weren’t living there anymore. Then when I was at my parents’ house for their big Fourth of July party over the summer, I stopped by your old place, but a new family was already moving in. I don't even remember how long I stood out there watching them move furniture inside, but it was long enough for me to realize that you had left. And that you weren’t coming back.” With a long pause, Nora stands completely still as she watches Will’s blue eyes dart back and forth between her own. With an audible gulp and a loud shuffle of his feet, Nora waits to hear what else Will has to say to her.

“It's just—I felt like an idiot because too much time had passed, and if I were to say anything to you, I felt that it would just reopen wounds that barely even had the chance to scab over yet. And I—I just didn’t want to be that person. The one who constantly reminds you of the sad parts of your life.”

“Will—” Nora tries to interrupt, her arms flailing outwards to try and stop him from saying things that were untrue. But before she could even get another word in, Will’s head is shaking left and right, the movement ruffling his hair as he tries his hardest to look into her eyes. 

“I went to the hospital with my mom after I heard what happened. I just remember staring at your mom lying on that bed and regretting every fucking lie I ever told about knowing her, and somehow I realized how terrible of a person I was to you back in high school. And I know I apologized for it already, and I know you forgave me for it, but fuck, Nora—it all came rushing back and I felt like I couldn’t breathe properly, because all I could think about was how sad I felt for you, and how sad I felt for myself. Because without your mom in my life, I probably would have ended up just like Carter Donnelly.”

Nora feels the familiar sensation of tears welling in her eyes—the tickle dotting her waterline, the pressure building around her sinuses, the pinch of her breath being trapped in her lungs. And when she looks at Will slowly losing his resolve in front of her, she’s not sure how much longer she can keep the tears at bay.

With a deep inhale and exhale, as if he was prepping for this the entire car ride over from his apartment near Santa Clara Valley, Will blinks and begins to speak again.

“I was in the back row at the funeral mass, I was too scared to sit closer to you. The whole thing just felt so—so wrong, like we weren’t supposed to be there. I could only imagine how you were feeling, and I just couldn’t find the words to say to you. So I stayed put,” Will pauses, holding her gaze for so long that Nora could make out every single freckle dotting his blue irises. “And then when I saw Harry pull you out of there, I knew that you were hurting more than all of us combined, and I knew that you were being taken care of. I just—I fucking knew, Nora. Everything clicked.”

After a few moments pass in which Nora and Will stare at each other until their eyes beg for moisture, blinking their eyelids quickly as to not miss a single feature on the other’s face, Nora sniffles and frowns a bit. “It’s okay, Will. I barely even remember that day anyways, if you were to say anything I—I probably wouldn’t have known what to say back.”

Will nods, understanding.

“My dad showed me the scrapbook you gave him,” he says, changing the topic rather abruptly.

At this, Nora quirks her eyebrow up in surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Will says with a small quip of his lips. “We sat down and actually talked for the first time in twenty years, and we’ve been working on it ever since. It’s like he’s totally changed his outlook on life, on fatherhood I guess, and I think your mom has everything to do with that.” 

With a chuckle, Will adds, “He’s the one who told me to stop fucking about and come find you.”

Nora can’t help but grin back—a smile that almost causes the apples of her cheeks to hurt, almost causes her mood to lift considerably, almost causes her to forget why he was even here in the first place.

She feels her lips go back to their normal position before saying, “I have a lot to apologize for as well, Will. You're not the only one who’s made mistakes.”

Will shakes his head. “I think I forgave you for that a long time ago.”

***

Part Nine: The Despair will be posted on Sunday, May 23

story page // join the taglist // tell me your thoughts

catch up here!

[my-happy-little-bean]

Do The Cooking By The Book

pairings: LAMP/CALM words: 6013 warnings: swearing, alcohol, implied panic attacks, small burn mention, general angst summary: patton bakes when he’s sad and nowadays, no amount of chewy chocolate chip cookies would be able to cover that up.

or: the five times patton bakes something for the others and the one time he can’t.

a/n- hello! welcome to part 2 of that series i mentioned before called  ‘let’s indulge bean in their slightly low quality, very personal fics’ (maybe i should actually make this an actual series on ao3 lol) :’)

i have been having a bit of writer’s block between this patton/janus one shot and golden slumbers (there's just o n e more scene i need to figure out, trust me it's haunting my every move), so i decided to write a bit of a fresh warm up instead! and by warm up, i mean i started writing it in the beginning of july and it somehow spiralled into a big thing, like they always do :’)

inspired by my declining mental health and my unhealthy obsession with baking focaccia at 2 am :)

p.s – later there's a [1] that's supposed to be a footnote but the formatting just said no so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

read on ao3 ~

enjoy!

----------------------------- 

~ patton’s chewy chocolate chip cookies ~

ingredients: 

2 3/4 cups all-purpose flour

1 teaspoon salt

1 teaspoon baking powder

1 teaspoon baking soda

0 teaspoon club soda

2 1/2 sticks unsalted butter, softened (or melted, like my heart around my honeybees <3)

1 3/4 cups packed dark brown sugar (must be working out ;) )

1/4 cup granulated sugar sugar, honey honey (except no honey :P)

2 large eggs, room temp.

2 teaspoons vanilla extract (and not any extra-ct ;) )

2 cups Virgil-esque chocolate chips*

 *semi-sweet! ^v^

 –– 

“Holy shit, Pat.”

Patton smiled, all toothy and wide. He was still standing beside the couch Roman was lounging on, holding up the tray with his pastel blue oven mitts.

“You like it?” he beamed. Roman nodded, scrambling over the armrest to grab another.

“Umfh,  yeah,”  Roman replied, crumbs spilling out of his mouth. “Ovfiously.”

“...What?”

Roman quickly swallowed and grinned sheepishly. “Sorry.”

Patton laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “No worries! I think it’s a- dough -able.”

“...If you weren’t holding cookies right now, I'd say that you suck. But you're holding cookies, so..."

There was a pause that Patton quickly filled with laughter, even if it suddenly felt like he was struggling to carry the sound out of his chest and into the air.

Luckily, Logan walked into the room before Patton could say anything that was affected by the spontaneous pang in his chest. His eyes lit up upon seeing him. 

“Logan!” He cheerily dashed over to the other side of the room, holding up the tray to Logan’s face. “A treat for my smart cookie?”

Logan reeled back slightly to avoid getting hit by the edge of the tray. He pushed up his glasses.

“Ah, thank you, dear. But I do believe it is too early for copious amount of sugar consumption–”

“Just try one, cookie-tita,” Roman cut him off, “you and I know that you want one.”

Logan frowned at him over Patton’s shoulder, then looked back at Patton. He gave Logan the widest smile he could muster, which made him sigh. 

“While Roman’s reference was a bit of a stretch–” He eyed the cookies one more time, then looked back at Patton– ”I suppose I will agree to half a cookie.”

“Goody!” Patton said brightly. “Or should I say, gooey?”

“You shouldn’t.”

Logan picked one cookie up and took a small bite. His eyes softened, which made Patton’s heart melt. 

“...Oh sweet Einstein,” he muttered, grabbing one more cookie off the tray before making a beeline to the coffee machine in the kitchen. Patton just smiled to himself, admittedly a bit proud. 

Before he turned around to go see if Logan needed help, he heard shuffling coming up beside him. He looked over and smiled. 

“Virge! You’re awake!” Virgil pulled one side of his headphones up as Patton presented him the tray. “Cookie?”

“Uh, sure.” He took one and nodded when he had a few bites, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Thanks, Pat.”

“No problemo!” he chirped, wandering back to the living room. Virgil trailed behind him, now slipping his headphones around his neck. 

“Did you bake these this morning?” Virgil asked as Patton set the tray on the coffee table in front of Roman, who readily lunged at it. Patton turned and smiled brightly at him. 

“Yeah! I mean...it was technically morning, heh.” 

Virgil blinked in that knowing way Patton was all too familiar with. Patton mentally cursed.  

“What do you mean by technically–”

Before he could say anything else, Patton clapped his hands together. 

“Well, I’m glad you all liked the cookies.” He tried not to think about how loud his own voice suddenly was. “Feel free to finish them!”

Roman frowned, mid-bite of his third cookie.

“Don’t you want any, sweetheart?"

“No no! I chip-ed in so much effort in baking them that I tired myself out, heh!” He faked a yawn. “I’ll just go to my room!”

Roman just laughed, stuffing another cookie in his mouth with a shrug. Logan wandered back from the kitchen, conjuring a book as he walked and nodding at Patton. He grabbed another cookie and sat on the couch beside Roman, leaning against his shoulder.

Virgil just looked at him as he left, eyes narrowed and steely. 

They’re so perfect, Patton thought as he sunk out to go to his room, leaving the three of his boyfriends alone with a wave. Perfect just the way they are.

 Without me.  

----------------------------- 

~ ‘i got ya’ focaccia ~ 

ingredients:

for the garlic-infused mixture

1/2 cup extra-virgin, PG-rated olive oil

2-3 minced garlic cloves

0 garlic gloves (haha i’m hilarious)

1 tablespoon chopped fresh thyme or 1 teaspoon dried

1 tablespoon chopped fresh rosemary or 1 teaspoon dried

1/4 teaspoon fresh ground black pepper

for the bread

1 cup warm water

2 1/4 teaspoons active dry yeast (1 packet)

1/4 teaspoon honey honey, you are my candy girl–

2 1/2 cups all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon fine sea salt (maybe it’s wearing some nice clothes!) (sea what i did there? i’m funny, aren’t i?) 

–– 

Virgil heard a soft ‘ shit ’ coming from the kitchen. 

Don’t panic, it’s probably all fine,  he thought, slowly walking towards the entrance to the kitchen.  It’s totally not some burglar, ready to steal all our spices and blow them into my eye, making me blind. It can’t be, we’re not even real so how could there be a burglar–

As he neared the dimmed light coming from the kitchen, however, a quiet sob broke through his thoughts.

A chill ran through him. The sob was muffled, squeaky, and admittedly a bit pathetic in terms of how there was an attempt to cover it up. Almost like the sound a puppy would make when someone accidentally stepped on their paw.

All too familiar.

“Patton?” he murmured, turning on another light in the kitchen. 

Patton was hunched over the counter space beside the oven, next to a saucepan on a burner; which was emitting a strong garlic and herb smell. 

That wasn’t what Virgil was focusing on, though; but rather the way Patton held his hand close to his chest.

Patton spun around on his heel when his name left Virgil’s tongue, his eyes wide and glazed over, like a deer caught in headlights. 

“Sh– Virgil! Hi!” He laughed nervously. “What are you doing here? It’s like, 2 am!”

Virgil dug his hands in his sweater pockets. “I’m always up at 2 am. What are you doing here?”

He watched as Patton’s smile forcefully tugged at the corners of his lips.

“I’m baking focaccia! Wanna join?”

There was a slight crack in his cheeriness. Virgil took a step closer. 

“What happened to your hand?”

Patton looked down at it, then held up his index finger, which was slightly red. 

“Just accidentally brushed up against the pan!” he chuckled. “It was still hot. ”

“How could you brush up against the pan,” Virgil deadpanned, hopping onto the kitchen island. “Roman’s asleep.” 

Patton blushed as he ran his finger under cold water.

“Grab the flour and pour a cup of it in that bowl,” he said, shaking his hand dry and going back to the stove. “I think that the yeast and honey had enough time in the water. I’m just about done with the garlic stuff.”

“Okay, honey,” Virgil hummed, already scooping the flour in the measuring cup.

Patton turned to face him over his shoulder with a smile.  

“Gosh, you get funnier at 2 am, kiddo.”

Virgil shrugged. “It’s easy to cater to your humour, babe. Though no one does it as good as you do.” 

Patton’s blush intensified, and it made Virgil feel a little more at ease that he could still make him flustered like that. 

“So really, Pat,” Virgil asked, stirring in the flour as Patton went over with a smaller cup of the garlic-infused mixture. “Why are you up so late baking focaccia of all things?”

A pause. Patton finished pouring in his cup before turning his back away, his head low. 

“No reason!” he said brightly, though Virgil suddenly felt edges of darkness to each word. “I thought it’d be nice. Plus Roman loves my focaccia. Thought I could surprise him!”

A pause. Virgil wanted to press him more, but there was something about Patton’s cracked smile that advised him against it. He knew a warning when he saw one. 

“He likes anything you bake him, babe,” he said instead, adding salt and the rest of the flour before beginning to knead the dough in the bowl. “You could bake him a frog and he’d be grateful.”

“Now Virge, I think you’re mixing the twins up again,” Patton giggled. Virgil smirked, even if he felt like he shouldn’t. There was such heavy air in the kitchen; a positive emotion wouldn’t last a second. 

“You sure you’re okay, Patton?” 

When Patton finally faced him, it felt like the air was sucked out of him. Now that he was standing under the light, he felt like he saw all of him more clearly. There were dried tear tracks running down his cheeks. Did he always have those? And under his eyes were bags of purple, dark and stormy; clear evidence that maybe Patton had been late-night baking before. 

However, that broken smile was what haunted Virgil the most.

“I’m just peachy, Virge!” he chirped, conjuring up a towel and covering the bowl of dough Virgil probably over-kneaded. Patton’s eyes seemed to drill right into his own. “ Positive.”

Virgil numbly nodded as Patton clapped his hands. 

“Well! Now we wait!” He smiled again at Virgil. “Want some coffee?”

 ----------------------------- 

~ mushy gushy marshmallows ~

ingredients:

marshmallow base

2 cups of sugar 

1/4 cup corn syrup

1 cup water (1/2 for for dissolving gelatin)

7 tsp / 3 packets of gelatin

1/4 tsp salt

1 1/2 tsp of vanilla extract

 dusting powder

1 cup confectioner’s sugar

1/2 cup cornstarch

*note to future patton: don’t make these, actually. they suck.

–– 

“Fuck!” 

Logan heard the curse from the kitchen, lifting his head from his book and immediately smelling for any smoke. 

“Patton?” 

There was no smoke. Instead, just another string of curses. Logan sighed; it was not like the moral side to swear. But reprimanding him didn’t sound like a wise idea. 

Instead, he set his book down on the coffee table in front of him and wandered to the kitchen. 

“Is everything oka–”

He stopped mid-sentence and looked at the sight in front of him. 

Surrounding him was a sugary mess, with many bowls of gelatin and water littering the entire counter. Logan could only assume they were failed attempts at whatever was being made today.

In the middle of this mess was Patton, holding the hand mixer up in the air with tears streaming down his face. 

“...Let’s put the hand mixer down, shall we?”

Logan moved forward before Patton could even respond, slowly lowering his hand that held the mixer. Patton just sobbed, dropping it on the floor in defeat. Logan tried not to panic at the suddenly broken hand mixer. Logically, they could summon a new one. It was extra energy, sure, but it was fixable.

However, he wasn’t quite sure he could fix the sight in front of him.

“Is there something wrong, starlight?” he murmured, ushering Patton toward the kitchen table. Patton just sighed. 

“It’s the stupid marshmallows.” Patton threw his apron onto the floor as he sat down. “I just don’t get what I’m doing wrong. I tried everything.  And they– they just suck.” 

Logan blinked, almost dumbfounded. In all the years he spent together with Patton, he had never seen him so distraught. Not even his arguably-worse decisions elicited a response similar to the frustration he was currently witnessing. Patton always wore a smile and carried on. Any mistake was just a mistake; nothing more to it. 

So what was different here?

“I even tried summoning a candy thermometer,” Patton continued. Logan tried his best to be present, even if his worry was slowly overtaking all of his senses. “Those things are stupid! I thought–”

“Hey,” Logan finally said, cutting Patton off by holding his hands into his. “Let’s slow down for a minute, okay?” 

When Patton looked up at him, his heart broke. 

Patton’s eyes were glassy with tears, some kind of foreign look not too far behind his irises. The absence of his smile was even more unsettling. 

He looked completely different; as if someone took one of the loves of his life and replaced him without even leaving a trace. 

Suddenly, he was filled with what he only assumed was longing. 

“Patton,” he said slowly, looking down at their intertwined hands, “please don’t worry about the marshmallows. They’re just marshmallows. Clearly there is something else that is–”

He cut himself off as he heard Patton’s breath hitch. When he looked up, there was a faraway look in his eyes.

And that was when it clicked. That foreign look…

It was fear. Fear and guilt, all wrapped up in one. 

The face of someone who just got caught.

Patton quickly pulled his hands away from Logan’s, stumbling onto his feet and muttering something about cleaning up later under his breath as he sunk out. 

Logan blinked, taken completely aback. He quickly re-evaluated every word he said that could have led to him leaving. 

“They’re just marshmallows.” 

Logan winced. Shit. Perhaps Patton was still in his ‘in his feelings phase; not his ‘in need of rational solution’ phase. He should have known better and now, Patton was further away from him than he was before. 

Logan then thought about the guilt that struck Patton’s face before he could confront him; the fear in his eyes when Logan dared to dig a little deeper. 

Patton wasn’t far away, actually.

Patton was just gone;   and Logan didn’t know where to look to find him.

----------------------------- 

~drunken    bitter    butter rumcakes~

 ingrdents:

for the cupcakes:

1 cup of choped picans

1/2 cup coconut flake

yellow cake mix, lots of it probs

some vanilla puddin apparently? i dont know why

eggs i dont care how much fuck it

1/2 milk

vegetable oil (optional cuz it sounds gros)

rum

for the bitter rum glaze:

some butter and sugar

more rum

rum 

 for the frosting

confictione confecion confectioniser’s powdered sugar

soft buttter

vanilla extract

rest of the bottl eof rum probably

 ––

It only took a crash from the kitchen for Roman to realize that Logan and Virgil were right: something was wrong with Patton. 

Virgil had been the first one to express his concern, and it was right on the day Patton baked them all cookies. Patton had since baked many more cookies; which for some reason, only intensified his worry. Roman didn’t think much of it at first. Virgil, bless his soul, always held a bit of his paranoia close to his chest. Plus, Patton’s cookies were the best! There wasn’t much to complain about. A few days later, Virgil mentioned something weird about Patton’s focaccia; but even that admittedly didn’t raise any concern from Roman. 

It was when Logan mentioned the marshmallow incident that Roman knew something might be off. 

The two had warned him that going to the kitchen late at night could possibly bring some less than ideal sights, but that only drew Roman closer; like a beautiful moth attracted to light. If Patton was truly upset, Roman had to be there! He knew that the others didn’t know much about navigating the small crises Patton would have every now and then, but Roman did! It was Patton, after all! Roman had experience — and he just had to play it by the book. 

But when he finally walked into the kitchen upon hearing the source of the crash, he was greeted with something he never quite saw before. 

Patton was on the ground, holding a long, glass bottle by its neck and a bowl—with all its contents—was splattered on the floor beside him. 

Roman stood there, almost dumbfounded. Patton didn’t even realize he was there before he looked up and blinked a few times. 

Then, Patton started to cry. 

“Oh, sunshine,” Roman murmured, sitting next to him on the floor. The strong stench of alcohol filled the air beside Patton, and Roman saw a glimpse of a rum label on the bottle. It was half empty. 

“M’sorry,” Patton mumbled under his breath, immediately resting his head on Roman. “Didn’t–” He hiccuped– ”Didn’t mean to make noise.”

“Shh, mi amor, it’s okay.” Roman stroked his hair slowly, going through the familiar motions of comforting his boyfriend. “I understand. Let me help you, okay?”

Another sob wracked through Patton’s body. 

“I– I don’t deserve your help.” The words came out in a slur. Roman had a slight feeling that Patton didn’t use all the rum in his bottle for baking.

“Nonsense! Of course you deserve help,” Roman whispered, twirling a strand of his hair. “I’m here to help you. I always am.”

Patton leaned into the touch, though the weight of his head seemed heavier than usual; like he was unintentionally pressing himself onto Roman, limp against his shoulders.

“S’fine,” he said after a few more teary hiccups, trying to push himself onto his feet. “Gotta– gotta finish cupcakes. Tryna new recipe.” 

Roman frowned. “The cupcakes can wait until tomorrow, Patton; I’m going to bring you to bed and clean up–”

“No!” 

Roman jumped at the sheer volume of Patton’s voice, suddenly nervous that he’d wake the rest of them up.

I can handle this myself,  he thought.  I always have been able to, this isn’t different. 

“No, I don’t– I don’t need your help.” Patton stumbled up to his feet, leaning his arms on the kitchen counter like it was a life raft. He buried his head in his hands.  “I don’t need your help, I don’t need anyone’s help, I just need– I just need to finish this, then–”

“Darling, I don’t think–”

“No thinkin!” He pushed his index finger onto Roman’s lips. “No thinking, that’s for Logan. Tonight, we’re not thinking of anything– not thinking about anything anymore.”

Roman was taken aback. 

“Patton, we can continue,” he said gently, “but only if you sit down first and let me grab you some water, okay?”

Patton lifted his head to face Roman, his eyes red from the tears. 

“Why do you take care of me?” he suddenly asked, his voice a small whimper. Roman froze as he continued. “Why do– why do any of you care?”

“Patton, I–”

“I don’t do my fucking job right anyway,” Patton hissed. “I’m– I’m broken junk in Thomas’ brain! I can’t even do the right and wrong thing, I can’t– I can’t make him happy. I can’t make you guys happy– ‘n I  love you guys! God, I can’t even make stupid cupcakes–”

“None of that is true, Pat,” Roman tried to protest. “You make us extremely happy, you make me– ”

“You’re a liar!” Patton cried, turning on his heel to stare at Roman, whose heart dropped. “You’re– you’re a fucking liar, Roman.”

The air suddenly felt too thick for both of them to be breathing. Patton must have noticed that because as soon as the words left his tongue, he covered his mouth with his hands with teary eyes. 

“...Patton, please sit down. You’re not thinking straight.”

“M’not–”

“I know.” Roman tried to keep his voice levelled as he spoke. “Just...just sit down, okay? We’re going to talk it all through.” 

Patton just stared at him blankly for what seemed like an eternity before finally speaking up. 

“I’m sorry.”

And before Roman could plead for him one last time, Patton sunk out, the bottle of rum still in his hand.

Roman blinked at the spot Patton once stood in, all shaky and teary like he was facing an inky, twisted nightmare. His words echoed in his head and while Roman knew it was best not to take it all to heart, he still felt the sting of each curse. 

What kind of a hero was he?

He then looked at the splattered mixture on the floor and sighed. It looked a lot like cake mix. And if there was rum in that, it probably would’ve been good. A shame, really.

His eyes then spotted a book on the kitchen counter, open to a page that had a bit of rum on it judging by the smell. Roman frowned, going over to grab it. He closed it to look at the cover. 

It seemed to be Patton’s recipe book, judging by the baking-themed stickers littering the blue cover. When he opened it, he was greeted with pages of ingredients and instructions to make some of Patton’s signature baked goods. The first few pages made Roman smile; there were puns besides some of the ingredients and even cheesy references to him, Logan, and Virgil. It seemed very Patton-esque. 

But as he went further through the pages, the tone seemed to shift. There was an absence of puns for one of the recipes, and Roman knew he could’ve at least hit a few. And when he got further than that, he just stopped writing measurements all together. The rum cupcake recipe, which seemed like a recent entry, was barely decipherable. 

He flipped back a few pages and saw words scratched out; sentences that didn’t belong in a typical cookie recipe. And the corners of some of the pages were crisp, as if water dried on them over time. 

Roman’s breath hitched as he closed the book. Something was wrong, and for the first time he didn’t know what to do.

----------------------------- 

~ whats good-berry muffins ~ 

ingredients

who

cares

theyre

just

stupid

muffins

berries, probably

––  

“Roman, he did not mean what he said,” Logan said as Roman paced in front of him. “Perhaps you caught him at a bad time.” 

“A bad time?” Virgil echoed incredulously, turning around on the couch to face Logan. “Dude, he was wasted. That’s not a bad time, that’s a ‘code red’ time.” 

“Besides, shouldn’t you be advocating for intervention,  lo -ve of my life?” Roman asked, still pacing. “You seemed pretty upset about the now-called ‘marshmallow incident’.”

Virgil gave Logan a look and Logan looked down, almost embarrassed. 

“...I have since realized that my actions were not ideal, but that is to no fault of my own. Holding guilt does no good, and neither does intervening when one does not want to be...intervened upon.”

“Okay first off, even Janus lies more subtly than that.” Logan didn’t make eye contact with him, but stiffened at Virgil’s words. “And second of all, Patton  needs support. We’re supposed to be there for him – not just waiting for the most dire sign. The plane is crashing, Logan; you can’t just put your seatbelt on and wait. You have to do something.” 

“Actually, if an airplane is crashing and you are instructed to put your seatbelts on, it is of your best interest that you–”

“For Odin’s sake,” Roman groaned. “I love you, my nerd in shining armour; but you got to learn what a metaphor is.”

Logan fell quiet as Roman continued. 

“We need to do something. This isn't a typical Patton dilemma. And I know he doesn’t want to talk about it just out of the blue so we can’t confront him. We have to figure out a way for him to trust us.”

“He loves us,” Virgil grumbled, though hints of anxiety singed the edges of his words. “Shouldn’t the trust be there already?”

“Virgil, he loves us an infinite amount,” Logan said reassuringly, finally settling back into the chair. He pushed up his glasses. “In fact, he probably loves us too much to want to worry us or cause us any emotional strain.”

“But it wouldn’t cause us– well, whatever you said!” Virgil protested. He slumped over, his elbows pressed into his thighs. He looked defeated. “I just want to help him. I can’t stand seeing him like this.” 

“I know, stormcloud,” Roman murmured, sitting down beside us. “But...but we can do this. Together. We always have and now, we will.”

Logan nodded, tapping his shoulder so Virgil could rest against it. 

“Roman is correct. Besides, we do not even have to confront him. Perhaps confrontation is where part of this issue stems from. The trust is there, we just have to remind him that we are willing to, given that we are his partners. We just need to make a comfortable environment for–”

Suddenly, Virgil felt a small tug in his chest; as if something was pulling him downwards. His eyes widened and his breath hitched at the sensation. He knew where it was coming from. 

“Guys, it’s Patton. Something’s wrong.” 

In a flash, he sunk out, Logan and Roman soon following suit. Roman pulled out his sword just in case.

When they rose, they found themselves in Patton’s room; though it was less bright than usual. The fairy lights were flickering and swaying against the walls and the frames were all askew. It looked as if it was struggling to keep itself together. 

And in the middle of the room was Patton, on the floor and tugging at his hair as he cried, heaving into each sob. Surrounding him were boxes of half-summoned muffin mix, as well as some sugar slowly fading out of existence. In front of him was his recipe book, tearstained and ripped at the edges. 

Virgil immediately went to Patton’s side, scooping him up into his arms. Patton made no effort to protest, his body still clenched up from all the energy he was spending summoning the ingredients into his room. In the corner of his eye, he could even see the beginnings of what would be an oven.

“Patton,” Virgil heard Logan breathe out, still standing in the same spot behind them, almost in shock. “You are spending too much energy summoning all these things, your room nor your form cannot handle it. Why don’t you just go to the kitchen?”

Patton sobbed even more, tugging at his hair and curling up into Virgil’s chest. Virgil looked up at Logan over Patton’s hunched shoulders and just shook his head, his eyes flickering between him and Patton. 

Logan then made a small ‘o’ shape with his mouth, slowly approaching the two on the floor and sitting cross-legged beside him. He made an attempt to lower Patton’s hands from his hair. Eventually, it turned into him rubbing small circles in Patton’s back with the palm of his hand, softly whispering “it’s okay” under his breath as he moved closer to him and Virgil. 

Roman dropped his sword onto the floor and followed suit, grabbing a fluffy blanket from Patton’s bed and going behind his three boyfriends, laying the blanket over their shoulders as if he was shielding them from the unstable room surrounding them. He hovered over their shoulders for a while before kneeling down and hugging all three of them. 

And as the ingredients slowly disappeared around them, the room began to fix itself. Patton could breathe a bit slower now, yet the others curled up into him like the warm blanket they were surrounded by. 

Eventually, Patton realized that he was no longer crying;  yet everyone stayed. 

And then, Patton fell asleep;  and they stayed for that too. 

----------------------------- 

~ Don’t Forget-ti That We Love You Funfetti Cake* ~

 Ingredients:

 For the cake

1 and 2/3 cup (210g) all-purpose flour

1/2 teaspoon baking powder

1/4 teaspoon baking soda (because so-da one for us!) [1]

1/2 teaspoon salt

1/2 cup (1 stick or 115 g) unsalted butter, melted

3/4 cup (150g) granulated sugar

1/4 cup (50g) packed light brown sugar

1 large egg

1/4 cup (60g) yogurt

3/4 cup (180ml) milk

1 Tablespoon (15ml) pure vanilla extract

2/3 cup (90g) sprinkles (nonpareils not recommended**) 

For the buttercream

1 cup (2 sticks or 230g) unsalted butter, softened to room temperature

3–4 cups (360-480g) confectioners’ sugar

1/4 cup (60ml) heavy cream

2 and 1/2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract

salt, to taste

 *Virgil actually came up with this and thinks its so lame so thats why that’s the name LOL ~ Roman

[1]  Roman wrote this pun but I am making the executive decision to retract this comment from the original script because it is not a necessary part of the recipe.

**can you tell that lo was the one who wrote the recipe ~ v 

–– 

Patton tried his hardest to fight the pull coming from the kitchen. 

It’s been a few days since the others found him in his room after his failed ‘bake muffins in isolation’ mission and Patton hadn’t dared to bake since. After all, if that incident wasn’t a good enough warning, the other times they found him in the kitchen were. He couldn’t let them see him like this again, what ‘this’ was. 

The others thought they knew he was upset about something, but Patton didn’t know how to tell them that he didn't even know what he was feeling. He wasn’t upset, he wasn’t stressed; he was just feeling every feeling, all at once.

And he didn’t know what to do. 

Baking was the only thing he could do when he felt like this. He longed to see a smile on Virgil’s face; to watch Logan actually eat and enjoy it rather than talking about how it didn’t matter that they ate; to laugh as Roman scarfed all of it down and ask for the recipe. The recipe book was actually going to be Roman’s gift for their anniversary. It made his heart ache even more knowing that it wasn’t good enough for him anymore. 

When he felt everything or nothing at all, he would just bake and watch as the people he loved were filled with joy; and Patton, selfish as it is, would bask in the sunlight they radiated. If he kept baking and kept making them happy? Well, their light could never disappear. 

But then, it did.

And Patton couldn’t bear to stand in the darkness of that kitchen anymore. 

Still, the tugging persisted. Patton secretly hoped that him pitying himself would guilt whatever force was summoning him to the kitchen into giving up its pursuit. 

Patton sighed, tugging the strings of his cat hoodie a little tighter so that the hood with wrap around his head. Maybe if he didn’t show his face, no one would see that he had been crying for an hour or so. 

When he sunk out, he was met with a warmly-lit kitchen and a small cake in the middle of the dining table.

Patton frowned, walking towards it curiously. It was a very...rustic cake, if rustic still meant ‘messy’ in baking terms. The icing was a bit rough around the edges and he felt like the writing in icing was supposed to say “WE ❤ U” but the heart looked a bit like...well, Patton didn’t want to say. 

Still, it was rather cute. There was a small plate beside it with a fork and a slice of the cake, dots of sprinkles baked into it. Patton smiled; it seemed to be a funfetti cake! His favourite!

Patton took a bite out of the cake without really thinking about it, his smile only growing at the sweet taste. 

That was when he saw the book. 

It laid neatly beside the plate, open to a page he didn’t quite remember writing. On it were various scribbles of bright red ink mixed with blue ink, along with a note written in pencil at the bottom of the page. He recognized the handwriting immediately as he picked up the book and began to tear up. 

“Virgil, if he does not want to be summoned you cannot–”

Patton looked up from the book and saw Logan and Virgil suddenly at the entrance to the kitchen, stopped in their tracks with their eyes wide. They stared at each other for a brief moment before Virgil huffed, breaking the silence.

“See, Lo?” He kissed Logan's cheek and went on his tip-toes to ruffle his hair, much to Logan’s dismay. “Patton always comes down for cake.” 

Patton dropped the book on the table and went over to sweep the two in a big hug, warm and tight and filled with love. Virgil fell quiet, but hugged back as Logan chuckled, patting Patton’s back. 

“I sincerely hope the cake is to your standards, Patton,” he said as he pulled back. “I know that the aesthetics are not...well, they are not ideal; Roman spent so much time planning that he forgot to take into account the amount of time we’d  actually have–”

“Logan?” Patton said, his voice still scratchy from being close to tears. “I love you. It’s perfect.” 

Logan smiled brightly, the light from it almost blinding Patton. 

“You guys didn’t have to bake for me!” Patton rubbed at his eyes with a small laugh. “I know baking a cake is no easy task, especially a funfetti cake!”

Virgil shrugged. “Logan led most of it. I kinda just made sure the kitchen didn’t explode. You know how those two can get."

Patton giggled. “Of course.”

“Roman should be on his way shortly,” Logan said, pushing up his glasses. “He is acquiring a few blankets and pillows from his room.”

Patton perked up at the thought. Roman’s blankets were made of the softest, most delicate velvet. The idea made his chest warm up.

“You guys did all of this for me?” Patton asked, his voice small. 

“Of course we did, Pat.” Virgil held Patton’s hand and kissed it softly. “We love you. And we want to be here for you; even in the less-than-ideal times. You would do the same for us.”

“But we do not expect you to dwell on your emotions if you do not feel comfortable doing so,” Logan continued as he went over to the dining room to grab the cake. “If you would like, we can watch Disney movies and eat cake and provide a distraction. However, we want to reassure you that we are here to listen to whatever is troubling you, so whenever you feel comfortable, please do not hesitate to reach out.” He paused. "We do not have to find a solution right now. We can metaphorically 'sit in the feelings' for a while."

Patton smiled as Logan arrived at his and Virgil’s side. He kissed Patton’s shoulder softly before making his way to the living room, where Patton could hear Roman rambling about what movie would be the best to watch; and he heard Logan’s rebuttals come after. 

And walking out of the kitchen and into the living room could only be described as a slow-moving blur. Patton watched as Roman spotted him and swept him up into a big hug, startling Virgil who was later brought into the hug as well. He watched as Logan gave them an amused smile, patting the blankets Roman arranged under a pillow fort in front of the TV, the opening to Tangled—Patton’s favourite—playing on the screen. 

“I love you guys,” Patton murmured as he sat in the middle of the pillow fort, a plate with cake in front of him. Logan sat beside him with a nod, kissing his head as he summoned four forks with a smile. Roman and Virgil found their way somehow into the tangled mess of each other, cuddling against Logan and Patton until they were the closest humans, or sides, could ever get.

And no one complained when Patton paused the movie when Eugene got stabbed, crying a bit and telling them about how that scene sort of reminded him about what he felt the night before. No one left when Patton began to spiral a bit from that and sob into his cake, finally admitting to them his thoughts and how he had just been feeling everything. 

And then, everyone stayed; even after that. 

[unholyobsessions]

You’re here

Pairing: Reggie x GenderNeutral Reader (im almost sure tell me if i accidentally used she/her)

Description: You see Reggie again for the first time since your death (i suck at descriptions and I always will)

Warnings: Car crash, mentions of death, mentions of grief

Word Count: 938

A/N: This is my first JATP fic so it’s not that great but i will definitely be writing more for this fandom

The last thing you remember is the feeling of your head hitting hard against the window. You remember the yells of your parents and the horrible sound of your car making contact with another vehicle. You remember your last thought being Reggie’s kind smile and the fact that you’ll never get to see him again.

You’re not sure how long you’re gone, all you know is that it is definitely not 1995. You find a store with a calendar by the window and your eyes widen at the date written on it. July 5th 2010. Your eyes well up with tears, a sob stuck in your throat. You bite your hand to stop yourself from crying but the feeling of a random person passing through you breaks the dam. You’re dead and you have been for fifteen years. You close your eyes and wish to be as far away from Hollywood as possible. The floor vanishes from under you and a feeling of getting pulled rushes over your whole body. You open your eyes to find yourself somewhere completely different. You walk a short way and come across an empty field, you sit down and contemplate what your life (is life even the correct term to describe this?) has become.

. . .

“Do you guys think they’re here?” Reggie whispers to his best friends as they sit on top of the Orpheum. They fall silent and look at him with sad eyes. They all remember what happened when he got the call. He didn’t come out of his room for a week and could barely play. Your death hit him hard, the person who supported him through the band’s rocky journey to fame, the one he was going to marry was gone.

“I don’t know buddy,” Luke speaks up, placing a caring hand on Reggie’s shoulder. “But if they are, you’ll find them, life or death you two are like, meant to be.”

He reaches into his pocket and takes out a crumpled up picture of you smiling brightly at the camera while sitting behind Alex’s drum set. Reggie sends his friend a sad smile and allows for the first time in, apparently, twenty-five years to think of the love he lost so tragically.

. . .

You swing your legs that are hanging over the edge of the Orpheum stage. No matter where in the world you have gone in the last ten years, you for some reason always end up back in LA, more specifically the place where your boyfriend dreamed of playing. You hope they made it big. You never allow yourself to look him up, the idea that he moved on with his life without you being much too painful. You lay back and stare blankly at the ceiling blinking tears away, you always find yourself in tears when you think of Reggie. You hear someone come inside the room but assume it’s a lifer so you don’t move from your spot.  

“Why are they just laying there?” You hear a vaguely familiar voice say. Your eyes widen when you realize that whoever came inside was not a lifer, but they thought that you were.

“Existential crisis?” Another voice speaks. A voice you never thought you’d hear again. The voice of the person that you have missed so dearly. You sit up quicker than would be considered normal and make eye contact with three boys you loved dearly back in 1995, neither looking a day older than seventeen.

“Reggie?” You whisper. You don’t want to believe it. Not only is it too good too be true but if they’re all really here then that means they’re dead.

“Y/n.” Your boyfriend whispers back. There’s a moment of silence where nobody knows what to do. It’s a strange situation and it takes a full minute for your brain to process what’s happening. Tears fall down your face as you jump off the stage and run toward him, jumping into his awaiting arms. “You’re here.”

You separate yourself from him and look at the other boys before pulling them into a hug as well. It feels different, colder but still the same warmth you always felt around your favorite people. “You guys died.” You say, a matter of factly tone to your voice.  

“It’s a long story,” Alex waves it off, not wanting to get into the embarrassing details surrounding their death.

You turn back to Reggie and his hand reaches up to your cheek, wiping away stray tears. You lean into his hand like it’s second nature, still so accustomed to Reggie’s touch.  Your eyes flutter shut and the sniffle that leaves your nose contrasting with the soft smile on your face. “I missed you so much,” you choke out.

“I missed you too,” He confesses. You hear a faint pop and know that the other boys left to give you some privacy. “I thought I would never see you again, after they told me that you-“ he bites his lips as tears threaten to spill from his eyes. You hadn’t thought of that, he lived who knows how long with your death on his mind and an overwhelming desire to comfort him overcomes you.

You hold his face and press you lips against his for a long awaited kiss. He melts into your touch and wraps his arm around your waist, his other hand still cupping your cheek. He pulls away after a few seconds and leans his forehead against yours.

“I love you so much,” he says a wide smile on his lips.

You return the smile and reply, “And I love you.”

[sunsetcurvecuddles]

51. "You're cold, take my jacket."

And 75. "You're overworking yourself... Please take a break."

For 2020 rayvor

stay as long as you need | ray&trevor or ray/trevor | 2k | g

ao3 link in reblogs!

--

Ray hasn’t been to this house in such a long time. So long that he thinks, maybe, Rose was with him, the last time, that she’d held his hand as they’d made their way up this strange driveway. It has an eerie quality to it, deeply familiar yet changed, like something he saw in a dream a long time ago rather than somewhere he used to spend a huge amount of his time with the people most important to him.

The barbed wire’s new.

It’s made more surreal by how exhausted Ray is from the last few weeks, and by the phone conversation that preceded his visit, and the amount of time Ray has spent lying awake at night trying to make this decision. Trying to do what’s best for everyone. Trying to figure out where he fits in that.

Anyway. He makes it in through the scary new security gate, because Trevor (or possibly Trevor’s assistant) had the forethought to text him the entry code, and he finds himself at the unnecessarily imposing front door, his confidence somewhat faltering.

It’s not going to do you any good to put things off, a voice in his head that sounds suspiciously like Rose reminds him. The thought of her, the expression she’d have on her face as she scolded him, makes him smile, gives him the encouragement he needs to go up to the door and press the foreboding doorbell. He’s almost expecting to be greeted by one of Trevor’s string of housekeepers, assistants, secretaries and associates who constantly cycle through the house, but when the door opens, he’s surprised to be face-to-face with Trevor himself.

It’s astonishingly painful, the kind of emotion that’s so powerful it’s impossible to distinguish between happiness or sadness, like those categories have become irrelevant in the face of its intensity. Trevor looks older, which isn’t a surprise, because it’s not like Ray hasn’t seen photos of him in that time (Ray’s kept up with the tabloids, not that he’s proud to admit it), but regardless, it’s still different seeing him in person. Trevor looks like he hasn’t been sleeping, and not just a usual Trevor level of running on too little sleep and too little food and too little time to breathe, but like he really hasn’t been sleeping, something drawn around the edges of his jaw, huge bags under his eyes. Ray swallows against the lump that forms in his throat.

“Uh. Hey,” Trevor says, intensely stiff and awkward in a way that makes him almost sound like Bobby, for a moment. “You… you okay? Look rough.”

Surprised, Ray responds, “I -- yeah, as well as I can be. You?”

“Fine,” Trevor says gruffly. Then he recovers, somewhat, smoothes it over with his nonchalant celebrity tone when he continues, “D’you mind if we go for a walk? Carrie’s home, I don’t want to stress her out.”

Ray assumes this means Carrie didn’t know he was coming, which hurts a little just because he misses her so much. If it was just that Trevor wanted to talk away from her, the house is large enough that they could go to the other side and yell at the top of their lungs and she still wouldn’t hear them.

(Ray really hopes no one will be yelling at all, regardless of where they’re located, actually).

“Sure,” he says, shrugs his shoulders. Doesn’t know how to deal with this kind of informality when he still feels like he’s gently crumbling on the inside, like everything in him is screaming at him to give Trevor a hug when he knows that’s not appropriate, or in-line with a gradual and sustainable reconciliation, and everything else he’s talked to Dr. Turner about.

Trevor slips out and closes the door behind him and gestures for Ray to follow him, which Ray does, because apparently that’s still what he does. Trevor falls into step next to Ray as he leads him down into the strange, feng-shui garden they’ve got going on at the back of the house. In his rockstar-style heeled boots, Trevor is just a little taller than Ray, their shoulders level as they almost brush. Ray can’t remember being so aware of the space between him and another person in years and years.

The path winds downhill, then curves to the right, around some heavy willow trees that obscure Ray’s vision until it opens up into a glade. There’s a carefully placed wrought-iron bench on one side, looking down over the hill and shaded by the willows flowing down around it on all sides. A few feet over there’s a statue of what looks like a Greek deity, not that it’s Ray’s area of expertise.

Trevor sits on the bench and clasps his hands in the space between his knees. He leaves space for Ray to sit beside him, so Ray does. He bites back the temptation to ask why in the world Trevor has a Greek statue in the middle of what seems to be, otherwise, a very East-Asian style garden. To be honest, he thinks maybe his instinct to make a dig about it comes from the fact that he doesn’t really know what else to say.

It had been so difficult to understand what Trevor was even talking about, over the phone, words all tied up and Ray’s ears ringing with the emotion and surprise of the fact that the conversation was happening at all. Something about the past coming back to haunt them.

“So,” says Trevor. Maybe it’s disconcerting for other people to see him fumble like this, Ray thinks, since he’s usually so charming, so put-together. Ray just finds it familiar, almost soothing, the reminder that Bobby’s still in there somewhere, under everything. “Uh. I know you already told me, but… can we start from the beginning?”

So that’s what they do. Ray does his best to retrace, one step at a time, the events of the day after the Orpheum, Julie approaching him in the kitchen, Papi, there’s something I have to tell you... The way she’d lead him out to the garage when he didn’t believe her, and there they were -- her three bandmates, not from Sweden at all, but from 1995. It was surreal, after so long hearing stories from Trevor and then Julie, to see those boys in the flesh - what at least looked like the flesh. Later, Julie confirmed this, based on Flynn pricking Luke’s finger with a safety pin, and him yelping at the way it actually touched him, the way a real droplet of blood formed in that spot.

(Trevor’s eyes go faraway, unreadable, at every mention of Luke.)

Ray leaves space for Trevor to ask questions, but he doesn’t. He sits and listens, encourages Ray on with something like and then what or is that it? when the silence stretches out too long, but besides that doesn’t have much to say at all.

By the end of the story the sun is starting to set, and the garden around them is growing cool. With the adrenaline fading, the surreal feeling of the situation settling in, Ray realises that he’s tired, too, that this feels like the longest period of time he’s spent sitting down in one place for at least a few weeks. There’s been an overwhelming amount of change and a lot of extra work, for all these new people who need him for different reasons. Really, he hasn’t had much time to process or adjust.

Beside him, Trevor starts to shiver a little. He’s trying to hide it, but again, it’s just him and Ray, so he’s doing a poor job. Ray goes to slide his coat off, pausing to muffle a yawn into his elbow. If it was like old times, he would have just held the side of his jacket open, curled Trevor into it and put an arm around his shoulders. But Trevor’s broader than he was then, seems to be eating better even if he’s not looking after himself in other ways.

Plus all the other reasons. There are so many reasons it’s not like old times.

“What are you -- Ray, stop,” Trevor says, bordering on petulant, god, he sounds so much like himself, like Bobby, “don’t.”

“You’re cold. Take my jacket,” Ray says, raising his eyebrows. It’s an invitation for Trevor to try and lie to him if he really wants, because Ray knows he’s right. Trevor looks down at his feet, kicks a pebble. It’s such a Bobby gesture. Ray will never fully be able to separate the two, no matter how much time he’s given.

He holds out the jacket, insistent. Trevor hesitates, but only for a moment, before he takes it from Ray, slides it on over his probably-disgustingly-expensive plain white t-shirt. “There,” Trevor grumbles, “you happy?”

“Yes,” says Ray, and it comes out too genuine, too heartfelt.

Trevor looks at him again, crease in his brow. Tilts his head, narrows his eyes. “So they’ve just been… living with you, since then?”

Ray blinks, taken aback. “That’s right,” he replies, smothering another yawn into the back of his hand. To play it off, he jokes, “We did always want a big family.”

“You’re overworking yourself,” Trevor mutters. “I can tell how tired you are, and I know having the boys -- the ghosts,” he corrects himself, “having the ghosts around must mean you have a lot going on.” Trevor runs both hands through his hair, pushes it back off his face, and carries on. “I know how good you are at making other people feel like everything’s taken care of, but… you’ll burn out if you’re not careful.”

Suddenly, Ray feels too warm in the face, like there are too many eyes on him even though it’s just him and Trevor in the garden. “I just told you that all of your bandmates came back as ghosts, joined a band with my daughter, and somehow now they’re alive again,” he laughs, “and you’re worried about me?”

Trevor doesn’t laugh. Just swallows, meets Ray’s eyes, and says, “Yeah. I am. Because I know you. And I know how you are, that you won’t let anyone else help unless they make you.”

It’s been such a huge few weeks. And now Ray knows, more than anything, that he should be taking care of Trevor, and here’s Trevor, probably still in shock, trying to take care of him instead. “And who are you suggesting I ask for help?” he says at last. “You?”

“I would do it in a heartbeat,” Trevor assures him. “Anything. For you and the kids and -- and the boys. Whatever you needed. But you can’t keep going on your own til you crash and burn.”

Ray can’t remember the last time he had someone call him out like that, so directly, so shamelessly to his face.

Oh. Yes, he can. His gut twists with missing her so much it hurts.

Trevor smiles, a twisted, grimacing, affectionate thing, and says, “Sorry. It’s what she would’ve wanted me to say.”

“She would have,” Ray agrees. He sits back against the bench. Feels his arm press to Trevor’s. “She always said I needed to be more selfish.”

“She was right.” Trevor nudges him, elbow to elbow. His eyes are bitter and tired and kind. He’s going to break down later, Ray reminds himself, he’ll need me, I know he will. And he’s ready for that, feels bad that they’re not focusing on Trevor right now, but the shock could mean it’s taking time for the news to really sink in. And all Trevor’s expression is giving him is understanding and patience and concern.

Maybe Ray can afford to be selfish, just for a moment. Maybe it would help Trevor, if he was. Before he can think it through too much, he shuffles to lean his head on Trevor’s shoulder, against the fabric of his own jacket. He feels Trevor tense, and he almost thinks he’s made a mistake, but then Trevor takes a deep, shaky breath, and his arm comes up around Ray’s waist, to pull him in closer, to hold him tight. His fingertips dig into Ray’s side, almost too tight, but settling in just right.

“Yeah,” Trevor says, hushed. He turns his head and Ray feels Trevor rest his face in Ray’s hair. He might press a kiss there, but maybe Ray’s tired mind is just imagining things. “Just like that. Just… please, take a break.”

“Okay,” Ray whispers. Doesn’t dare speak any louder than that, for fear of breaking the spell.

Trevor sighs out a long breath like he’s been holding it in for years. Like he’s been holding it in since he was Bobby, surrounded by his boys alive and well, or since he was Bobby, curled on Ray and Rose’s couch, tucked under Rose’s favourite crochet blanket. The trees around them rustle in the cold evening breeze. Ray closes his eyes.

[tangledstarlight]

You know I love me some Willex, and since I know we both hate writing them in sad situations.... how about Fluff Prompt #18 - “I wish we could live together already”? 🧡

i said short and sweet for this in my head and i’d like to say i delivered with it. only happy situations for willex, i don’t believe in sad willex situations ever. hope you like it!!💜

18. “I wish we could live together already”

sentence starters

Alex watches as Reggie wipes up the spilt water from his bottle with the sock he’d found stuffed down the side of the sofa cushions with a mixed sense of horror and acceptance. Horror, because he didn’t know whose sock that was. Acceptance, because unfortunately this wasn’t the first time Reggie had pulled a sock from between couch cushions. 

“There’s a box of tissues right in front of him,” Willie says as he hooks his chin over Alex’s shoulder, arms circling his waist and trapping him against the kitchen island and his body. Not that Alex is about to complain about that. He might be about to complain about having to watch someone he calls his best friend shake the sock out and lay it gently on the coffee table. 

“That’s––” he starts, furrow deepening between his brows for all of a second before he blows out a breath and shakes his head, “Okay. I’m ignoring that. I’m turning away.” 

Because if he can’t see it he can pretend it’s not there. Dropping his shoulder a little so Willie’s head falls away he turns around in his arms, raising his own to rest on the other man's shoulders, fingers idly playing with loose strands of hair. Looking at the growing smile on Willie’s face is more than enough to make him forget whatever atrocities Reggie is commiting behind them. 

“I love them, but I absolutely hate living with them,” he mutters, lips twisting up at the side as he tries not to think about all the things Luke and Reggie have talked him into doing since they moved in together a year ago. And yeah, okay, Alex is secure enough to admit that the spaghetti that was stuck to the kitchen ceiling for 3 weeks was his fault, but he would not be taking any of them blame for the sea of bubbles after Reggie poured a whole bottle of bubble bath into the sink. He might have stood by and watched, but he had no part in it. Okay, maybe he could have stopped him. But, well, Alex had been a little curious about what would happen too. 

“You’ll miss them though,” Willie points out and Alex doesn’t have an argument with that. He will miss them, he’ll miss knowing that Reggie is up for anything anyone suggests and that Luke enjoys washing up and that they both just know when he needs space or someone to talk to. 

“You do realise they’ll just let themselves into our place whenever they feel like it, right?” Alex leans back a little in Willie’s arms to fully see his boyfriend's face and almost lets out a breath of relief at the glimmer in his eyes, as if he’s already mentally cut his best friend's keys to their new place. And fuck, Alex loves him so much for that alone. For never once questioning the mild co-dependence of his friendships or how the boys and Julie will always be such a big part of his life. 

“I wish we could live together already,” Alex sighs, fingers going back to twirling strands of Willie’s hair while he starts to trace random shapes on the small of his back. 

“Just one more month,” Willie says, bumping his nose against his and pulling back to grin at him, and Alex is almost distracted by his lips that he misses the next words, “But hey, maybe we should just speed run this and get married the day before so we’ll never have to live apart again.”

A beat passes in which Alex slowly drags his eyes away from Willie’s lips and to his eyes, mouth opening and closing as the words settle in his head, in his heart. He blinks once, fingers detangling from Willie’s hair to put both his hands firmly on the other man's shoulders and push him a little away. 

“Did you just fucking propose to me? In the kitchen. While Reggie cleans up water with a sock behind us?” He exclaims, eyes wide and growing even wider as Willie laughs.

[dream-a-little-bigger-x]

Parallels | Chapter 4

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist! | Parallels Masterlist

Characters: OC! Violet Grace Dawson, Luke Patterson, Julie Molina, Carrie Wilson, Bobby Wilson, Reggie Peters, Alex Mercer, Flynn nolastname, Willie nolastname, Nick Danforth-Evans, Dirty Candy 

Guideline: Sunset Universe is the universe in which Sunset Curve is famous and Violet is friends with Carrie, Julie and Flynn. Candy Universe is the universe in which Dirty Candy is more famous and Sunset Curve has broken up. 

Song(s) used: Clued Up - Little Mix 

Warnings: none

Words:  2,845

It was almost midnight when the two girls collapsed on the floor of the dance studio after having rehearsed every single Dirty Candy song at least twice. Violet had almost gotten everything down. 

“Will you tell me more about the other universe?” Carrie asked as she stared at the off-white ceiling overhead. 

Violet turned her head a little to look at her best friend before facing the ceiling too. “Where should I start?” 

“Are we friends?” Carrie questioned without missing a beat. 

“Yeah, we’re best friends with Julie and Flynn. We spend most days in Julie’s garage, making music. We wrote at least a dozen songs together, I believe.” Violet smiled at the memory of them writing their first song together just a few years ago. It was one of their proudest moments together. 

Carrie then sat up straight, the movement capturing Violet’s attention. “Will you show me one?” she asked, and Violet shot up into the seating position too. “Please?” 

Violet’s eyes darted across the room where she found a bunch of instruments stalled. With a smile, she got up and made a beeline for the acoustic guitar in the corner before returning and sitting down opposite of Carrie. 

After having tuned the guitar to her liking, Violet placed her fingers on the correct strings and started playing. An upbeat melody chimed through the room seconds before Violet’s voice followed. 

“Hey, yeah, no, oh, oh, yeah, mmm” Listen, I used to dress like everybody else I wanted to just blend in They told me no, keep my dreams on the low Told me I'd never win, yeah I love to be different Guard up to opinions then let 'em in Tear me down, wanna see me drown Like being happy is such a sin, uh-huh”

Violet looked up for a second to find Carrie watching her with the softest smile on her face, the way Carrie always looked at her. It made her feel at home. 

“And now I'm older, it's never over It don't stop affecting me, the world keeps testing me I'm getting on track with every knock back On a bad day, I just gotta stay, stay, stay, stay”

Violet’s voice grew stronger as she lapsed into the chorus with Carrie watching her intently. 

“I stay clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty, sometimes it's pain Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh, woah C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

She slowed it down again, her voice mellowing out during the second verse. 

“Invisible, I feel like I'm forgotten Do you even notice me? Yeah Work myself up, let the nerves take over How I feel isn't what you see I need control, don't know how to let it go I need to learn to let it be, yeah Gotta remember nothing lasts forever So I'm just happy being me, oh-oh”

“And when I'm older, it's never over It don't stop affecting me, the world keeps testing me I'm staying on track with every knock back On a bad day, I just gotta stay, stay, stay, stay”

“I stay clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty, sometimes it's pain Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

To Violet’s surprise, Carrie joined in during the post-chorus, which caused a wide, genuine smile to fall on Violet’s lips as the two voices blended together. For a moment, it was like nothing had changed and she was still in her own universe. 

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh Woah-oh-oh, woah C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have”

“I will never run, never run from a lesson I will never hide, never hide from the present All the ups and the downs All the heres and the nows, oh Everything I face, no, it's never forgotten 'Cause every single day is a chance I can blossom All the ups and the downs Yeah, I'm living right now, hey”

“Mmm, I'm living right now, yeah Aah, one, two, three!”

A giggle escaped Carrie’s lips before she tried her hardest to sing along with Violet. It ended up with her just echoing some of the words, but it added a certain quality to the song that Violet really digged. 

“I'm c-c-clued up and I'm ready To love the good and live the bad C-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have 'Cause sometimes it's beauty (beauty, no), sometimes it's pain (pain) Sometimes it's sunshine and sometimes it's rain (oh, sometimes it's rain) I'm c-c-clued up (up) and now I'm ready Just make the best of what you have”

“Woah-oh-oh, woah-oh-oh, oh, oh I'm c-c-clued up and now I get it Just make the best of what you have Beauty, but sometimes it's pain, mmh Sometimes it's sunshine, sometimes it's rain”

The last notes echoed through the space as the song came to an end, and made room for Carrie’s clapping and giggling. 

“That sounded great! Did you write this one?” she asked, intrigued to hear more about this universe of Violet’s. 

Violet smiled and placed the guitar next to her before answering. “Actually, you did…” 

Carrie’s eyes widened. “I did? Y-you mean your Carrie doesn’t sing about being popular and being the best at everything like I do?!” The girl was baffled at the idea that there were other subjects to write about than just popularity. 

“You should try it sometime,” Violet told her with a smile. “I’m sure you got something great in you. If Carrie from my universe can do it, then so can you.” 

“Sounds like a pretty good universe you lived in,” it sounded from the other side of the room and it didn’t sound like Carrie’s voice, whatsoever. Violet and Carrie turned their heads to find Bobby in the doorway. 

Violet smiled. “Actually, it was just okay. I don’t see you that often…” Bobby tilted his head a little before walking closer towards the girls. “What happened to Sunset Curve here? In my universe, they’re pretty big and touring the country at this very moment…” 

“We, uhm, we split up…” Bobby replied with a tinge of sadness in his voice. 

“What happened?” 

Bobby heaved in a deep breath before joining the girls on the floor. “Creative differences. I wanted to be famous, Luke was in it to prove to his parents he could make a career out of it, Alex just wanted to work out his frustrations and Reggie was just in it because his friends were…” 

“Oh, that sounds pretty terrible. Where are they now?” 

The boy shrugged. “Luke plays football, Reggie is focusing on his studies and Alex only has time for Willie.” 

“Who’s Willie?” Violet wanted to know, having never heard of the boy before. 

“Alex’s boyfriend,” Carrie replied, “And they’re the cutest couple on earth, I swear to God!” 

Violet’s eyes widened. “I knew Alex was gay. I swear the whole dating-a-different-girl-every-night was just a publicity stunt!” The Wilson siblings shot the girl a questioning look. “It’s a long story… But Alex is gay! Yay!” She excitedly clapped her hands, making the two teenagers in front of her chuckle. 

“So, any clue how we’re gonna get you back?” Carrie asked then. 

Violet smirked, “You already sick of me, Wilson?” Carrie’s mouth opened and closed, but no words came out. “I’m kidding. But no, I’ve got no clue whatsoever… There must be a reason why I’ve been brought here, right?” 

“I mean, you did tell me you wished someone would believe in me,” Bobby muttered, his voice laced with hurt and betrayal. 

Violet’s eyebrows furrowed. “I’m sorry about that, Bobby… I’m sure I didn’t mean it…” 

The three kids let the words settle in their brain before the three of them burst out into laughter. That sounded weird, even considering the situation. 

For the rest of the night, the three of them brainstorm together, trying to figure out what reason could be behind the switch. There had to be a reason for her to suddenly show up here. It had to mean something. 

Determinedly, Violet stormed through the hallway towards where she last saw Julie, Flynn and Carrie. They were still at Julie’s locker and, like they had many times before, immediately shut up. This time, Violet ignored it and instead came straight to the point. 

“What’s this?” she asked and showed the girls the picture she had made of the news article in the trophy case. “This isn’t right! Sunset Curve broke up a year ago!” 

Just as the words left her mouth, a girl Violet could recognize from miles away walked her way. She had a strut in her step and her long, black hair swooshed behind her with every swaying step she took. 

“Kayla!” Violet called out and when her friend turned around, her face screamed disgust. 

“What do you want?” she asked, her tone laced with annoyance. 

Violet’s eyes flicked from Kayla to Carrie and back. Kayla and Carrie weren’t friends here. And neither were Violet and Kayla. Dirty Candy wasn’t a thing in this universe. Though the logo on Kayla’s badge that was pinned to her jean jacket said differently. 

“Nothing – N-nevermind.” Violet turned back to the girls she was previously talking to. “Does Dirty Candy exist?” she asked in a hushed voice. 

“Yeah,” Carrie replied, the volume of her voice matching Violet’s. “It’s Kayla’s. She created the band with Dana, Cynthia and Sophia.” 

Violet blinked a few times, trying to process all the information. “Dana’s in the band?” she whispered, and neither of the girls were sure if she was talking to them or not. “Dana got kicked out of Dirty Candy… Our Dirty Candy.” She said that last part to Carrie. 

“Vi, we were never in Dirty Candy…” Carrie told her with furrowed eyebrows. 

Julie lifted her hand to Violet’s arm. “Are you certain about that universe thing?” 

“Yes!” Violet groaned. “This isn’t the world I’m used to living in. In my world, Carrie and I are in Dirty Candy and we haven’t spoken in over a year since your mother died.” She pointed at Carrie first, then gestured to the two other girls before her gaze landed on Julie. 

Julie’s eyebrows knitted together in confusion. Her mother really did know more, she was certain of it. There was something she was hiding and Julie had to find out what it was. But first, she wanted to know more about this universe Violet seemed to come from. 

She grabbed Violet’s hand and dragged her towards the empty music room at the back of the school where no one ever came. This used to be Sunset Curve’s rehearsal space during their free periods and  now, Julie used it to work on her music when the girls couldn’t help. 

“Tell us more about that universe of yours,” Julie demanded as she hopped onto a desk in the corner. Her eyes flicked to the other two girls, searching for their approval before adding, “We wanna know everything.” 

“So, in my universe, your mother passed away. She got ill, really ill and after she passed, you lost your love for music. You didn’t sing a note for a year and we kinda lost each other. Carrie and I started to spend more time together afterwards and eventually created Dirty Candy. We grew our band with Cynthia, Sophia and Kayla, and became more and more popular the more we performed at school and at Chubbie’s pizzeria.” 

Carrie’s eyes twinkled at the idea of forming a band with her best friends, though she couldn’t quite see how she could start a band without Flynn and Julie. There was no Carrie and Violet without Flynn and Julie, or any other way around. 

“You have a Chubbie’s too?” Flynn questioned, earning a glare from Carrie and Julie. 

“That’s your question?” Julie shot back, shaking her head. She then turned back to Violet. “Continue, please.” 

Violet chuckled a little. “Besides rehearsals for Dirty Candy, I mostly hang out at Carrie’s where Bobby mostly mopes around because he doesn’t have any friends since Sunset Curve split up.” 

“Why’d they split?” Carrie wanted to know. 

“I don’t know, some drama, I guess? I don’t really pay much attention to him, to be honest.” A soft laugh escaped Violet’s mouth at the thought of teasing Bobby to the fullest with all her stupid pranks and witty comebacks during rehearsals. 

“Why’d you switch places with our Violet?” Julie then queried. 

Violet shrugged. “If only I knew that… The blogpost I found doesn’t really give a theory about why people switch places with their parallel self. It just – happened, I guess?” 

Julie mulled the answer over in her head whilst her teeth dug into her bottom lip in thought. She knew she could ask her mother about all of this. She had to know something about it. There had to be more that she could tell them. 

“I think there’s someone who can help us,” she muttered and jumped back on her feet. Her three friends followed behind her until they reached the street and they were on their way to Julie’s house. Their last period was a free period, so it wouldn’t really matter that they left school early. It was something they did quite often to go and jam in Julie’s garage. 

“Mom?” Julie called out as the girls entered the house. “Mom! You home?” 

Rose entered the hallway from the living room with a wide smile on her face and a twinkle in her eyes that Violet hadn’t seen in years. The girl’s eyes widened upon seeing the curly-headed woman. She was alive. Alive and well and right in front of her. 

“You– you’re alive… Miss Molina… You’re alive. You’re actually–” Violet let out a surprised chuckle whilst tears pooled in her eyes. “You’re actually alive…” she breathed. 

Rose’s eyes darted from Violet to her daughter and the other girls before landing back on Violet. A light behind her eyes flicked on, signalling at the resemblance of the situation she had found herself in years ago. 

“I know what’s going on here,” Rose mumbled before heading into the kitchen. The girls exchanged glances before following the Latina woman. Violet and Julie took a seat at the table, opposite where Rose had taken a seat, while Carrie leaned against the counter where Flynn hoisted herself onto. 

With the girls’ expectant eyes on her, Rose heaved in a deep breath. “You’ve switched universes, haven’t you?” was the first question she asked. “You fainted and woke up in a world where you know the people but they lead completely different lives?” 

Violet’s mouth dropped, her eyes flicking to the other girls before focusing back on Rose. “Y-yes, that’s… That’s exactly what happened.” 

Rose smiled faintly. “I got myself in the same situation…” she admitted. “I was eighteen at the time and I had told my boyfriend at the time that I wished I lived in a world where he wasn’t such a jerk. Next thing I knew, I fainted and woke up in a world where my boyfriend was gay and my friends led completely different lives from mine. I was in a band, Rose and The Petal Pushers, and we were pretty famous there. All my other friends either didn’t talk to me anymore or were in my band.” 

Carrie and Violet exchanged a quick glance. That sounded an awful lot like them. 

“How did you get back here?” Flynn questioned from her spot on the counter. 

Fiddling with the bracelet on her wrist, Rose continued. “There’s this unfinished business I had to complete in that world and the Rose I knew had to do the same in mine. My unfinished business was getting Rose and The Petal Pushers in a band while the other Rose had to help find my boyfriend’s way out of the closet…” she smiled at the memory that floated back to the surface. “Aside from marriage and having two beautiful children–” she tucked a strand of Julie’s hair behind her ear with a smile, “The switch was the biggest adventure of my entire life.” 

“Wow, mom,” breathed Julie. 

Violet nodded her head, “That’s a crazy story, miss Molina.” 

Rose scoffed and reached for Violet’s hand. “Please, you call me Rose in this universe.” 

A smile landed on Violet’s cheeks. “Thanks for the reassuring story, Rose.” 

“I hope it calms your nerves and worries about all of this.” 

“It definitely does.”  

Rose smiled before patting the girl’s hand. “So,” she said, “What’s your unfinished business?” 

Everything Taglist: 

@bonobos-candy-bar-2​ @calamitykaty​ @littlemissaddict​ @n0wornever​ @phantompogues​ @praetorofthelegion @sweetpeasturtleneck @wanniiieeee​  @lesko​_ @sunsetwilson​ 

JATP Taglist: 

@90ssunsetcurve @angryknightstatesmantrash @authentic-gillespie @bexxy @bookdealer5 @bright-molina @brooke0297 @bucksmaddie @buckybarnesishot310 @caitsymichelle13 @candycornmgg @catgirlpwr @charliesmountains @cordeliascrown @crybabyddl @echocharm17618 @fangirlangioma @flower-name @frickin-bats @gray_jato @hannahhistorian92 @happinessinthedarkesttimes @headheartbellarke @hemmingsness @iainttakingshitfromnobody @ifilwtmfc @jandthephantoms @jaskiers-sweetkiss @jatp-is-god @joynerxmercer @kaitieskidmore1 @kcd15 @kelpwithawhy @kinda-really-lost @kiss-themoongoodbye @knitsessed @lilostif16 @lookingthroughmirrors @magicalxdaydream @marinettepotterandplagg​ @musicianspiritsblog @mystic-writings @notasofti @pxperphxntom @rangerelik @rh-girlonfire @ruvaitkevicius @spencerreidwhore @stars-soph @stressyanddepressysimp @sunsetcurvej @talk-on-the-street @tefilovesreading @tenaciousperfectionunknown @teti-menchon0604 @the-hufflepuff-hunter  @thedarkqueenofavalon @cucumbers-and-olives @thequirkybookaholic @threeghostboys  @vicesvsvirtuesfanfic @whitetigerlover17 @boggie-brainrot @wiselight @gigglysokkamcu @nightfurya

Luke/Charlie Taglist: 

@camiladelrio98 @cloudy-skyler @gingerxarmy​ @killerqueenfan @lolychu @lovesanimals @luckylouiebug  @lukeys-giggle​ @myfriendscallmebeans​ @needyreggie​ @perfectlywrongformend3s​ @rachmmb​ @tenaciousperfectionunknown​ @thecharlietomygillespie @whitemanshoe19​ @rottenroyalebooks​

Crossed out names are the users I was unable to tag. Please make sure everything in your settings is set so I am allowed to tag you or if you changed your url, please drop me a message/ask!

TAGLIST |  MASTERLIST | PARALLELS MASTERLIST