#childhood romance

[ihavenothingtodo10220]

ꨄFirst and Lastꨄ

⁺˚*･༓☾ [ Jeon Jungkook x Gn!Reader fanfic ]

╰┈➤ ❝ [ The first and last times you ever saw Jeon Jungkook, the person you knew since you were thirteen, the person who loved you until he won his heart when you were seventeen. The person you cruelly broke up with when you were twenty-two. The person who never stopped loving you, no matter how much it hurt, and the person you could still never forget. ] ❞

╰┈➤ ❝ [ Note: All ages in this fic are based on Korean Age. ] ❞

⁺˚*･༓☾ [ Word Count: 1080 ]

⁺˚*･༓☾ [ Contains: Childhood Romance, First Love, Breakups via text, ghosting, slight age gap (Two years) older Y/N ]

⁺˚*･༓☾ [ Most things other than the meetings themselves are very vague, as the focus are their first and last meetings. I MAY make a follow up tackling more of the relationship. Maybe. ]

The first and last times you ever saw Jungkook were similar, so much so you could argue they were essentially the exact same. And yet...They were so, so different.

The two of you met when you got off of that plane, stepping foot into Korea for the first time in your life at only thirteen years old, because your parents decided to ship you off there to be away and live with their old friends. You were scared, and you were alone. The only solace you had was you knew the language, as your mother was born in Korea herself, but you knew nothing else about your mother's home country.

You took one shaky breath in, and another breath out, wandering through the airport in search of where you were supposed to go. You were traveling alone, which was...Scarily unsafe, actually, but your parents had never exactly been...Responsible ones.

You wandered around for a while, until your eyes finally caught sight of a sign, reading 'Welcome to Korea, Y/N!' in Korean. You liked to believe you were the only Y/N entering Korea that day, but you couldn't exactly be sure. You didn't know what the family you'd be staying with while you're in Korea until...Further notice would look like.

You stood there for a few seconds, internally debating on whether or not to go over, before they seemed to notice you and the two parents immediately started grinning, approaching you where you stood.

"Are you Y/N by any chance? Y/N L/N? Eun-Hee's daughter?" Asked the mother, to which you nodded. You gazed at her, fidgeting with your sleeve and shifting your weight from foot to foot.

"Yes, I'm Y/N...Its nice to meet you Ajumma." You greeted her with a shaky voice. You knew your Korean was good, as you were speaking it since birth alongside English, but even if it was...Tied for your first language, you still sometimes forgot things, or didn't pronounce certain words properly. And that was scary to think about to you, as you didn't want to accidentally mess up your first impression.

"You look so much like your mother when she was your age." Smiled the woman, and her husband gave you a smile that mirrored hers. They both seemed kind and so warm, in a way that made you feel slightly at ease though not nearly as much as you'd like to be.

"This is our youngest son, Jungkook. Our eldest is in classes right now." Smiled the man, gesturing to a boy around your age, maybe a little younger, who was standing behind him and looking at you like you were an alien who just descended from a space ship, but he also had this awe-struck expression. "He's about two years younger than you. Our eldest is your age."

You gazed at Jungkook, who just gazed back at you, before giving a tiny wave and a small, shy smile.

"Hello..." Said Jungkook quietly, gazing at you with big, doe-like eyes.

You looked at him for a few more seconds, before giving him a  wide grin. He was...Absolutely adorable.

"Hi."

The last time the two of you met, was under different circumstances. The two of you had been close ever since you arrived—Attached at the hip even. At some point early on, that closeness developed into a childish bout of one-sided puppy love. And then that puppy love morphed into Jungkook at the ripe age of twelve deciding that he wanted to marry you when you were both older, and voicing that opinion to you. You thought it was cute.

And then, at some point, that morphed into you starting to catch feelings as well when he was around fifteen, and subsequently dating. Your relationship...It was strong, until it wasn't. Until he was too busy to spare you any time or even a text, and you were too fed up to put up with it anymore, and you broke up with him over text.

You broke up with him when he was twenty, and you were twenty-two, five years after you started dating in the first place. It was...An insensitive breakup, you supposed. A breakup that was effectively you texting him "I'm breaking up with you" and then not quite blocking him, but muting all notifications from him and deleting all messages. Essentially cutting him out of your life for good.

You moved back to your home country shortly after, where you stayed for many more years, until you came back to Korea for a friend's wedding many years later.

You stepped foot into Korea for the second time in your life, and the first since your breakup with Jungkook. You looked around, heading through the airport to where the bridal party would be waiting. You didn't know who else would be there, only that the couple was coming to pick you up.

Eventually you caught sight of the bride within a large group of people, all of which you recognized from highschool and the years following it. You grinned, approaching them.

"Y/N!" Gasped the bride, spotting you first and pulling you into a bear hug.

"Hi unnie." You laughed, squeezing her tight. "How've you been?"

"I couldn't be better." Grinned the bride, pulling you at arms length to inspect you. "You've gotten thinner, haven't you?"

"I'm the same weight I've always been, don't worry." You scoffed, playfully rolling your eyes.

"Dont give me that sass." She said, but her tone was still so playful.

That's about when your eyes locked onto another pair from behind her. Jungkook. A man you hadn't seen since you were twenty-two, eight years ago. He was entirely avoidable in America, luckily, and you'd only had to hear his music in passing a few times in ads, but other than that he's dropped from your radar. Until right now.

Jungkook looked at you as if you were an alien who'd descended right before his eyes. Yet this time...There was no awe in those wide eyes, just hurt, as a strained grin spread across his lips.

"Hello..." Said Jungkook quietly, gazing at you with big, doe-like eyes.

You looked at him for a few more seconds, before giving him an equally strained grin. It hurt seeing him again. Even if you were the one who ended it...You never quite lost those feelings you had.

"Hi."

[uknowme-not]

Over 💜

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Chan x female reader. (Idol AU, Ninth member)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Y/N is an Idol who decided to take a hiatus. Does Chan try to stop?

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Friends to lovers? Confessing feelings, Fluff, childhood romance in a sense, a bit of angst (cause I'm a sucker for that)

You walk out of JYP office and breathe out. You did it, you're on hiatus, you're free. You now have time to travel the world, work on your music, and so much more. The stress of fans? Gone.

You hear a rush of chatter as stray kids come down the corridor.

"Y/n..." Chan's voice trails. "You didn't..."

You nod with a small smile and tears in your eyes. "I'm free" your voice breaks.

Tears form in their eyes as they all come to hug you. You don't know how to feel. You've been wanting to do this for a couple of months now, and here you are. The price? Losing the boys once again.

Was it worth it?

"I-I" Chan voice stutters.

"This isn't because I forgot to meet up with you that one time?" Seungmin cries.

"Guys" your voice cracks, "it wasn't you" you cry. "I just couldn't keep up"

It's true, these last few months have been horrible as rumours break out. And of course, these rumours came with haters.

More tears flow between all of you. Especially as you go back to the AirBnb to pack your stuff.

It's late at night and most of the boys have probably gone to bed.

"Let me take you out, my treat" Chan smiles at you, and you couldn't help yourself but nod along.

"Paris" Chan sighs as the two of you stroll through the park in front of the Eiffel Tower.

"I was never a fan of Paris" you chuckle, "it's really grey until you reach the main attractions"

Chan rolls his eyes as he takes your hand into his and runs. The two of you start giggling, chuckling, and smiling as these soon-to-be final moments arrive. He smiles at you as you look around in the air for a while, taking in the beautiful attraction of where he took you.

"What are you doing?" You chuckle as he hands you a lock.

"I want Paris to remember us" he smiles as the two of you walk to the iconic railing of none other than Lover's Bridge. You look down at the heart shape lock that's now on the bridge with 'Y/N + SKZ' sharpied on it.

"You know they'll take this down?" You chuckle a bit under your breath.

"It's the moment that matters" he responds with his dimples deepening in his face.

You turn around to face him as he takes a deep breath.

"I never thought you'd leave us" he laughs. "I hear a lot about you, from I.N, Hyunjin, Han, and so many more. We all love you, and to think of you leaving...it hurts" he says.

He laughs looking at the floor and then back up to the scenery "I remember our first 'date' still" he says avoiding eye contact. "The skatepark"

"You remember?" You mutter.

He looks at you wide eyed. "Of course I remembered. It was during my 'I am you' era" he laughs.

"Or your blonde hair era" you chuckle.

"I thought you didn't remember it. Every time the past got brought up, my first time working for Jype, and so on, you seemed to have no recollection" you acknowledge.

"I didn't mean to come out that way. I just, I thought it was best to forget, I didn't think you wanted to remember me" he mumbles.

"Chan..." you sigh walking towards him, "of course I want to remember you guys." "I thought you didn't like me" you chuckle.

"Why would you think that?" He asks taken a bit aback, concern filling his eyes.

"Well, you disappeared during the date. I was left alone watching the sunset" you awkwardly laugh off.

"I didn't mean to leave you, I actually" he sighs "I had a gift that I wanted to give you and I forgot it" he mumbles rubbing his neck "I wanted to go get it" he mutters.

You looked at him doe eyed, "you had a gift?" You say feeling ashamed. He didn't leave you because he was bored, he left cause he wanted to get you something, because he wanted to do something for you.

"Yeah...but, what can we do?" He Smiles "when I came back you were making conversation with the boy next to you"

"Chan, I would always choose you over the rando next to me" you smile with sympathy.

"So this? This was just a massive misunderstanding?" He smiles holding onto your hands.

"Yeah" you nod trying not to get emotional. You try not to make your voice crack as you smile slightly.

"Why'd you have to leave now?" He whinges, "this-" he breathes.

"We didn't know back then, there's no point in dwelling," you say resting your forehead against his.

He wraps his hands around your waist, "can I never let go?"

You do a small chuckle followed by a condescending smile at him. You look up at him as his lips lean in to make contact with yours. You were both hungry for a taste of the other but each kiss was soft as if you'd rather admire the moment. Why'd you have to leave now? It was impossible to cry when the guy you were longing for has his hands wrapped around you.

"Please, stay for the night" he whispers against your lips going for more and more soft kisses. He's dreamt about this and admittedly, so have you. His hands travelled through your figure. You could feel his body shakes as he tears up once more.

"Chan" you stop, looking into his teary red eyes. He avoided eye contact with you which made your heart yearn as you bring your hands up to his cheeks.

He holds you tightly "I need to-" he stops. "I need to have you with me" he says.

"I'm sorry Channie" you cry.

There was something comforting about it. The two of you holding each other, wanting to kiss the other but knowing you'd cry knowing this was the last time. You knew how badly he wanted to kiss your lips again, he wanted to savour your taste.

"I've heard all the boys confessed to me about you, I never knew how right they were" he breathes.

"All of the boys love you" he chuckles. "I heard all about you from them and all the things you did that made them love you more. But I...I never had a story like all the boys. I was too ashamed to tell them about me wanting to forget our date, forget our time together, forget...you" he says as you move a hair from his face.

"So tell me Chan, when did you fall for me?" You ask smiling as the two of you swing gracefully.

He smiles looking at you. "Too many stories to count" he grins. "I was sensitive one day. the live? It wasn't going well, and you called me out of the room and hugged me" he smirks to himself reminiscing. "I think that's when I fell"

You remember that day clearly. You normally watch the boys live but when noticing Chan's eyes tear up when hate comments came in, you couldn't help but disrupt him. You wanted him to feel loved, calling him out of the room mid-live to hug him.

He leans down to kiss you once more, "please, delay the flight and stay with me" he breathes against your lips.

"I wish, but I can't lose this opportunity" you sigh "Once I stay, I know I'll never get myself back out, and as much as I may not want to..." You look back at him "I know I'll be back"

© youfoundme-not 2023 | copying, translating and/or stealing my work is prohibited ♡

[animentality]

I have done it again.

Wrote more overly indulgent Durgetash. This time, an utterly pointless childhood romance AU.

There are exactly ten people who follow me for my disgusting Durgetash obsession, and you know what, this one goes out to them.

Pairing: Enver Gortash and the Dark Urge

Rating: Mature, not too sexy, just mildly

Warnings: None, really, don't read it if you don't like mentions of sex.

Word count: Much higher than it should be.

Theme: Childhood romance AU.

[blacksapphicguide]

Eyelash (short film)

2023 short film. Streaming on YouTube. Romance, drama, teenager.

Plot points:

Young, teenage love

Accidental reconnecting

Outing

Woman directed

Interracial lesbian couple (main)

Black sapphic characters:

Sam (Zira Brown)

Connections:

Sam x Quinn (interracial sapphics: black x white asian)

Sex & Nudity - Mild

Kissing

Violence & Gore - None

Profanity - None

Alcohol, Drugs & Smoking - Mild

Social drinking.

Frightening & Intense Scenes - Mild

Accidental outing and kicking out of a minor

[env0writes]

Cicada Sentences Vol. 2, 7.26.24 “Lunch Break"

@env0writes C.Buck   Ko-Fi & Venmo: @Zenv0 Support Your Local Artists!   Photo by @env0

I may gape and guffaw And stare in awe At your nape and gnaw And bite the lip of moi

But now I understand Moments tender and dear Where romance is in demand And behind you, hands are near

When your curtained hair Curtsy to reveal the clasp When I my hands around your neck a pair Would that more than this pearl in my grasp

I wonder if that fates did knew That when first love came to me The name was meant for you I wish I knew for certain as I see

How much grief be mended in adolescence In these jovial glimpses of quintessence

[madmanwonder]

Ask

Childhood friend au

How did Roxas and Namine meet?

They met in the playground when Roxas saw how lonely Namine was and befriended her to make her less lonely.

[justminawrites]

Where The Stars Collide - Chapter 2: Cana

AO3

Summary: Cana makes a bet. tw: Implied/referenced alcohol abuse; also general creepy drunk man behaviour (nothing that didn't happen in the anime)

prologue | 1 | 2 | TBC

Cana Alberona needed a drink. 

Something much much stronger than mead, and enough to really get her hammered. Cana had been drinking since noon– no she didn’t have a problem and it was just the lighter stuff really; that was until her dead friend returned and nearly sent her into the underworld with a bone-crushing embrace. 

“Cana!” Lisanna had squealed before jumping her, “It’s been so long!”

Cana had never been closer to quitting alcohol in her whole life. 

Visions were one thing but the friend she hadn’t seen in five years nearly choking her in a hug in front of the whole guild? Nope. She was never drinking mead, no— ale, rum, water– she was never drinking anything ever again. 

Cana sighed and absentmindedly twirled the empty goblet in her hand round and round. She should be happy. 

Natsu and the others rescued Lisanna from someplace called Edolas where magic was apparently non-existent, or something, Cana hadn’t been listening. She’d only managed to stomach about 3% of the reunion before putting aside her empty mead barrel, and hightailing it out of Fairy Tail. 

The rain accompanied her as she aimlessly wandered from bar-to-bar, only to have the door shut in her face each time; although Cana had garnered a fearsome reputation as a Fairy Tail member, nearly every bartender within a five mile radius had other reasons to be distrustful of the dark-haired wizard – namely her alcohol not-problem.

She’d finally sought refuge in a homely inn just on the outskirts of the city– the old innkeeper took pity when she’d seen the wizard slicked with rain, shivering in a cobblestone alleyway – and forked over whatever jewels she had on her for a bed and another unsatisfying drink, but Cana’s monstrous thirst was particularly unquenchable tonight.

Motioning for another refill, she stared into her sad reflection as the mead slowly rippled into the goblet; finally reaching the conclusion that her sour mood probably had more to do with what Gramps said that very morning. 

The old man had pulled her aside to hand her a notice with the guild’s sigil stamped in the far right corner, and the unmistakable scrawl of Fairy Tail’s strongest wizard detailing his intent to return. Cana had dropped the paper in surprise. 

Gildarts Clive was coming.

“I wanted you to be the first to know,” Makarov had said, giving the top of her head a kind pat as she’d scrambled to pick up the paper with one hand and hide her tears with the other. After seven long years, her father was coming home. 

Cana spent the rest of the day in a daze, unable to read even her cards properly (though not for lack of trying) until she reverted to alcohol to take the edge off. But then Lisanna showed up and all the alcohol in the world couldn’t keep Cana’s world from falling apart around her.

Cana always thought she was good under pressure. Sure, she had her vices but who didn’t, right? She’d kept her worry for her guild mates during the Oracieon Seis debacle at bay, and even strong-armed her way through everything that happened with Laxus and the Thunder Palace. The only time she lost her cool was when– 

“Wake up! Why don’t you admire your handiwork ya traitor! You’re patheti��“

Cana sucked her teeth guiltily, recalling Gray’s drooping shoulders, the hardness on his face as Daphne and her Dragonoid terrorised the city. 

She should’ve trusted him, the boy she’d grown up with would never have betrayed his guild for any reason, but Magnolia had only just recovered from a certain lightning dragonslayer’s reckless threats weeks prior and Cana had been looking for someone, anyone, to blame. They’d never expected– she’d never expected to fight Laxus; Laxus was as much her family as Natsu and Erza. As Gray.

It was though the universe had quite literally flipped on its head; her family were becoming enemies at the drop of a hat, while their enemies were being treated like family – and though she would forever be indebted to Juvia for her willingness to fight with Fairy tail, Cana wondered what Gramps was thinking when he let Gajeel in– after all he did to Lucy, to Levy. 

Suffice to say she’d been looking for an emotional punching bag to relieve her of all that betrayal, and Gray’s unwarranted alliance with Daphne was the icing on the whipped cream of crap that’d become her life. She’d tried to apologise, in her own way, but Gray just waved it off – somehow that hurt more than if he’d never forgiven her at all.

He had a right to be angry. After all, if anyone should’ve known better, if anyone should’ve trusted him irrationally, it should’ve been her. Especially after everything they’d been through.

Cana blinked to see her tumbler once again painfully empty, and the sour taste of mead coating the back of her throat. She sighed; dredging up the past wouldn’t do either of them any good now. And it certainly wouldn’t stop her father from returning. 

“Why hello there, pretty lady.”

Ugh. Cana’s lips curled distastefully as a man pulled up a barstool beside her and the sickly sweet croon of flirting trickled into her ear. Normally, she would jump at the opportunity to stuff down her emotions with drunk sex but she was hardly drunk and with the sloppy smile her neighbour was giving her, she doubted he was any good at the latter.

“No thanks,” she grunted, shifting away from him imperceptibly, the creak of her wooden chain echoing into the empty bar. 

“Now, hold on a minute,” He scooted closer, the sweaty musk of some undoubtedly cheap perfume-oil pinching at her nose, “Don’t tell me you intend to keep all that lovely mead to yourself.”

“Why not?” She retorted, clutching the barrel protectively, “I paid for it.”

“Haven’t you heard of the saying that a drink has never tasted sweeter than the one you share it with?”

Cana rolled her eyes and turned to face him. This was her first proper look at the intruding man, and if she were in any better mood she’d have to admit she’d have slept with him without a second thought. Broad-shouldered, well-muscled, dark-hair, significantly older than her; it was like checking off a list. 

“I’m Bacchus,” he gave her another saccharine smile when he noticed her sizing him up, “Often compared to the god of wine in my hometown.”

Cana snorted. 

“Is that right?” 

“I assure you,” he moved closer and motioned to her mead barrel, “–no one’s been able to beat me at a drinking contest yet.”

Cana found that hard to believe- despite his reservations, the man looked like a lightweight if she’d ever seen one. All brawn and no brains; they were usually the quickest to fall.

“I’m a member of Quatro Cerberus,” Bacchus continued, “I take it you’ve heard of us.”

“Nope,” She retorted, shifting away again in the hopes that he would get the hint and just leave her the hell alone.

“We seem to have got off on the wrong foot,” he refused to take the hint, “–why don’t we make a bet?”

Cana had a pretty good idea where this was going.

“You want to try and out-drink me?” 

The idea was so ludicrous she might’ve laughed in his face if she were any less wary. 

Now there weren’t many things Cana was proud of, but her wild teenage years had blessed her with an ironclad liver and a tolerance so high she’d have to toe the line between alcohol poisoning and death to really have a good night out. She was the reason there was a law in Magnolia stating bartenders were required to cut-off Fairy Tail wizards after their fifth barrel. 

“No,” Bacchus held out his hand for her to shake, “I want you to try to out-drink me.”

If it were any other night, she would’ve got up and left by now. Normally she had no patience for arrogant asses who seemed determined to make fools of themselves but the thought of going back to the guild hall and facing everyone, facing Lisanna – Lisanna who hadn’t been there for the last five years; who hadn’t seen just how much of her grief Cana had chosen to drink away; Lisanna who’d stayed the exact same, bright-eyed and beautiful while her own heart shrunk unto itself – seemed even more unbearable. 

“Fine,” she held out her hand hesitantly, seeing the dark glint in Bacchus’ eyes, “–what’re we betting on?”

“Just each other’s company,” He grinned, squeezing it, “But there’s a catch.”

She raised an eyebrow as Bacchus reached into the folds of his shiny purple, beetle-esque armour to pull out two metal flasks of liquid and held one out to her. Cana looked at him quizzically.

“Lotus-wine,” He explained, uncorking one with the flick of his finger, “A specialty where I’m from. I find mead to be too light for my stomach.”

Cana knew her alarm bells should be going off right now but the smell of the lotus-wine was strangely intoxicating in its newness, and the restlessness she’d been feeling all night was momentarily satiated by the unfamiliarity.

“I hope you’re ready to lose.” 

Bacchus only nodded, watching her hungrily. Fingers closing around the flask, Cana tipped her head back and swallowed. 

She was floating.

The wine had a vaguely sweet, berry-like flavour but everytime she tried to narrow down the offending fruit, it slipped off the tip of her tongue and sent her careening into a memory she’d desperately been trying to avoid. 

She scrabbled at her lucidity for purchase as her vision blurred and tilted, the amber glow of the bar lights and poignant purple of her partner’s armour bleeding into one another to create the reddish-brown hue of her father’s hair.

And suddenly, Cana was in a memory.

It was the winter of X778; she remembers it well because it was the day she’d decided to tell Gildarts the truth. 

She was his daughter. 

It was Cana’s most well-kept secret, something she hadn’t dared to say out loud even to herself (in case she might bring about a stray jinx), and not a soul at Fairy Tail suspected as much. The only two people who knew were the ones it was impossible to hide anything from, namely Gramps, and the one friend she’d chosen to tell in confidence, Gray Fullbuster. 

(Natsu found out by accident but Cana managed to convince him that the reason she and Gildarts smelled alike was because they’d both been cursed by a pixie and he could at no point bring it up with his mentor or the curse would become permanent.)

Cana wore her best dress, and rehearsed her lines over and over: “Cornelia Alberona was my mother. She fell sick and told me to find you before she died. I came to Fairy Tail to find you, Dad.”

She’d even consulted the cards, and they guaranteed that today would be the most auspicious day to receive news about long-lost family. Nothing could possibly go wrong. 

Cana woke up bright and early, and waited in the guild hall at a quarter-past-ten: that was when Gildarts and Natsu usually returned from their training. (In hindsight, she was far more jealous of Natsu than she’d let on, after all, Gildarts may have been a great mentor but he was her father first). 

Sure enough, the two burst in through a random wall, arm-in-arm, faces mirroring a devious grin, despite Natsu’s sporting a purple bruise that would disappear by lunchtime. 

“Hello, there!” Gildarts greeted her the way he always did, one arm on her head to ruffle her hair, and a gentle smile. No more, no less. She often wondered wether it was wrong for her to ask for more. 

“Uhm– I–“ Cana stumbled over her words, her mind suddenly blank as the most powerful wizard in  Fairy Tail paused and looked back expectantly, waiting for to continue. The words Cornelia.. sick.. find.. Dad.. all tangled up in her throat and what came out instead was,

“I’m Dad– don’t become sick, you might find Cornelia too!”

Gildarts looked at her bemusedly, but before could open his mouth to ask what the heck she’d meant by that, Natsu tugged at his cape so hard, he ripped a piece right off and went flying into a wooden bench. 

“Ow!” The pink-haired boy whined, rubbing his head before earning a sharp smack from Erza on the exact same spot and rushing to hide from the “Monster" behind his mentor. Gildarts picked him up, momentarily forgetting her blunder (forgetting her), and hoisted the little dragonslayer onto his shoulders, who for his part, spent the next ten minutes crowing about his newfound vantage point by taunting his redheaded adversary.

Cana sighed. Guess today wasn’t the right day after all. 

“What’re you moping about,” a dark-haired boy interrupted her wistful mumbling, “I can see your sappiness from all they way over there.”

Cana felt her mood lighten as she looked up into equally dark eyes, now flickering with concern.

“And I can see your underwear,” She snickered, having the pleasure of seeing is face go from stoic to horrified in a matter of seconds. Once Gray had located his pants, and Cana had set up her impromptu fortune-telling booth on one of the bar tables, he joined her in keeping watch over the rest of the guild’s shenanigans.

The two of them had drifted together, against all odds, by being excluded from the rest of their guild since they were still children. They wouldn’t be invited to missions or after-parties and hence ended up around the guild-hall with nothing much to do. Cana hadn’t wanted to be friends at first,  the clothes-stripping weirdo was the last person she’d seek out voluntarily, but over the years, found that she hadn’t minded his company. And it seemed to be mutual.

“So, did you tell him?” Gray asked, crossing his arms over his shiny, new guild-mark. Envy shone in Cana’s eyes but she tried her level best not to stare.

“How did you get Gramps to approve the guild-mark,” Cana said instead, “I thought you need to be at least 17 to be a licensed wizard in Magnolia.”

“Ah, this?” He puffed up his chest, pride shining out of every 12-year-old cell in his body, “He said I was ready to have mine.”

“You begged him didn’t you,” She suppressed a smile as Gray’s shoulders went taught.

“Did not,” He sniped, but watched quietly as she laid out the blue deck of oracle cards in front of her in neat lines. 

“Did you steal the guild-stamp then?” Cana was only joking but when she saw Gray absentmindedly rubbing the silver cross necklace around his neck (a tell), she gasped, sending a few cards scattering over the wooden floorboards.

“You did!”

“Not on purpose! Natsu dared me to do it!”

“That IS on purpose, you idiot!” Cana groaned and put her head in her hands; when Gramps heard about this they’d all be in trouble. Natsu, Erza, even Lisanna! When one of them was in trouble, all of them were: Fairy Tail motto through and through. And Laxus would give ‘em all hell for it.

“Yeah, yeah, they’ll never know,” Gray shrugged off her nagging and bent over to pick up the fallen cards.

"Sure,” She rolled her eyes, “I bet you can’t keep your clothes on for more than 10 minutes!”

“My clothes ARE on!”

“For NOW!”

“What’s all this about clothes now?” 

Cana only just kept herself from gasping out loud as Gildarts’ rumbling voice interrupted their tiff; the wizard then bent over to pick up the final card and lay it on top of the wooden bar table: The Emperor .

Even Gray fell quiet at the sight of the man, awestruck by the raw magical energy that seemed to fill the room with his presence even before he arrived. Gildarts knelt to be eye-level with the children and smiled.

“Now, I remember you trying to tell me something little-miss,” he said kindly, looking at Cana. 

“Are you sure you have to leave so soon?” Master Makarov interrupted scurrying at Gildarts’ heels, before she could open her mouth. 

“I’m afraid so, Master,” he replied, his face taking on a hardened edge Cana hadn’t seen before, “The beast is too cunning to be slain by normal means; only brute force will work.”

Master Makarov gave a deep sigh and squeezed his guild member’s shoulder.

“Remember what I said to you earlier,” Makarov’s voice took on an almost threatening tone, “–you will always have family here.”

Cana watched their back an forth in confusion, suddenly clapping her hands together as an idea came to her.

“I can read your fortune!” She said excitedly, reshuffling The Emperor card into the blue deck in front of her. 

Makarov and Gildarts exchanged a look. 

“I haven’t heard those words in a long time,” Gildarts said finally, turning back to her, “– tell me, little girl, was your mother a fortune-teller too?”

“Yes! Corn– uh– cornfields! She used to work in the cornfields in the countryside which is where she learned to read..”

Gray shook his head as if to say ‘smooth.’

“I- uh- I see,” Gildarts nodded awkwardly like what she’d said made perfect sense.

“Anyway,” Cana tried to move on from the hiccup, “Just give me a second.” 

She closed her eyes and focused on the small, paper panels of the cards, the runes inscribed onto them and breathe in, breathe out, breath in...

Cana held in a grin as she heard Gray catching his breath at the new party trick she’d learnt specially to impress her father. The cards had begun to glow a faint blue, and float around her in gentle circular patterns with three main ones flipping over to tell the fortune. 

She opened her eyes, pleased to find both Gildarts and Gramps clapping obediently, while Gray’s expression had already soured.

“What does it say?” Gildarts prompted.

“You’ll finish the mission very quickly and be back home in a jiffy!” Cana affirmed. The S-class wizard laughed then, gently ruffling her hair again, before taking his leave. A spark of what felt like panic seized her chest, all of a sudden.

“Let’s hope you’re right little–“

“Cana.”

“Hm?” He turned in confusion.

“My name’s Cana. Cana Alberona.” She said matter-of-factly, waiting to see a glimpse of recognition in Gildarts’s impenetrable gaze.

“Well, then,” He smiled knowingly, “Let’s hope you’re right Little Cana Alberona.”

And then her father was gone. 

Cana felt herself drift back into the present reluctantly; that hadn’t been the entire memory, there was still more that happened after Gildarts left, but she found herself dipping in and out of the current like a leaf, until it completely swept her back onto shore, back into the ochre glow of the inn on the outskirts of Magnolia.

Cana found that though she’d regained consciousness, the lotus-wine had quite literally swept her off her feet; she was lying on the wooden floorboard, at the foot of her barstool, objectively and inexcusably drunk. 

Her pride was more wounded than she was. This is what the great Cana Alberona had been reduced to? For shame.

The memory had left her feeling light-headed, so much so that she didn’t notice Bacchus leaning over her curled up frame in triumph, holding what looked like a turquoise-blue flag. 

“Looks like I win,” he crooned, waving the flag in front of her eyes, “Guess I’ll be taking this as a trophy, pretty lady.”

Cana didn’t think much of it, the aftermath of the wine and memories demanded she sleep it off, even here, on the inn’s wooden floorboards; until she turned to fold unto herself and made the shocking revelation that her bra was missing. 

Her.. Bra.. Was.. 

Oh that wasn’t a turquoise flag he was waving in her face, it was her– 

Cana’s eyes flashed open, arms protectively clutching at her naked chest; just in time to see the door swing open and Bacchus’s big, broad-shouldered frame fly backwards and hit the wall with a sickening crack of broken bone.

Gray Fullbuster stood at the entrance, his dark eyes flashing with unbridled rage. 

Next Chapter ->

[sweetteainthesummerx]

⋆·˚ ༘ * oh, my, my, my ⋆·˚ ༘ *

nhl masterlist !

pairings: quinn hughes x childhood friend!reader, jack hughes x platonic best friend!reader, quinn x artist!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, fluff

summary: you and quinn throughout the years, and how you fall in love <3

song: mary's song (oh my my my) by taylor swift

word count: 4.4 k

notes: I love lake quinn sm :)

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

our daddies used to joke about the two of us, growing up and falling in love, our mamas smiled, and rolled their eyes

"oh, she's so tiny!" ellen cooes, cradling the little bundle of pink, "and she has your eyes, birdie."

your mother smiles at the nickname her college friend had given her freshman year, when a bird had pooped on her head during a girl's night out.

it stuck (literally), and almost 10 years later, as her best friend holds her babygirl, she's reminded of everything they'd been through together.

"congrats, man. the first girl in the family!" jim slaps your dad on the shoulder, the two men smiling at their wives.

"oh, she's just precious." you yawn, and all of the adults are reduced to an awwing mess.

quinn toddles over, chubby toddler legs still unsure. he lands on his butt half a foot away from ellen, who lifts him up with the hand that wasn't holding you.

"look, quinny."

quinn reaches out a finger towards you, and jim is about to chide him when your tiny little fist locks around it. his wide eyes widen even more. you gurgle happily at him, and for the first time in a while, he goes completely still, enraptured by the baby in front of him.

"oh." your father whispers.

"well, that's your son-in-law now," jim laughs.

"hey, don't count out jack! they're closer in age, after all."

your mom rolls her eyes, as ellen snorts, "let's not pre-write our kid's futures before they're five, please."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

i was seven and you were nine, i looked at you like the stars that shine

"y'know, birdie," ellen starts, "the boys might be right."

"no, they cannot eat four pb and j's and then go to the carnival-"

"no, not the little ones!", ellen laughs, "our husbands. they might be right."

"oh, that? the whole son-in-law thing?" your mom grins, as she watches luke chase after you with a worm.

the two women are silent and thoughtful as you - screaming at the top of your lungs - duck behind quinn, who sternly tells off his little brother. your sticky hands lace with his, naturally, albeit a bit awkward the way only kids can be.

you absolutely adore quinn. he's your protector, the one you turn to more often than not. jack is your best friend, and you remind her of that often. luke is your baby brother, the one you coddle and fuss over.

and the boys adore you just as much; jack plays pirates with you all day, Luke follows you like a puppy, and quinn...

he's staked a claim on you that makes your mom laugh, but worry a little when your older and you inevitably find someone who isn't him.

it never occurred to her that he might be the one.

"oh my god." your mom says as your dad walks in with jim.

"ha! see? I know I put money on my son for good reason." jim says gleefully, and quickly pipes down at ellen's dirty look.

"jack is also your son, man." your dad shakes his head.

"seriously? you guys made bets on the future love lives of your prepubescent kids?"

"birdie, it's just a joke!"

he eats his words as quinn leads you through the door. you're in tears, a nasty scrape on your knee. he's got your hand cradled in his.

ellen and your mom fawn over it, how brave you were, but all you could remember is how quinn held your hand the whole time.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back when our world was one block wide, i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

when you're ten, you almost have your first kiss.

you're going through a phase, really, when all you would wear were your overall jean shorts, a big t-shirt and your red converses. you have little pen drawings all over your shoes and shorts.

now, when you look at the photos from back then, you cringe a little at how lanky and young you look.

you're with the boys at one of the neighbouring lake houses, a couple of other girls and a few guys too.

everyone there lived on the same block, so it was odd that you hadn't all hung out together before.

quinn can tell you're uncomfortable around the other guys, who are loud and frankly very obnoxious. even his 12-year-old self can tell.

he tells you that you can all leave and go get ice cream near the boardwalk, but you refuse. you're 10 already, you can handle a few new strangers.

somehow, spin the bottle is brought up and you find yourself sitting cross-legged as one of the older girls - who's kind and much more grown than you - tellsdyou how to spin the bottle.

your hands shake and the backs of your knees are slick with sweat, but you spin anyways. you want to seem cool and older too.

you watch the root beer bottled patter as it turns, the ting, ting sound dissonant with your thumping heart.

it lands on quinn.

your quinn who knows all of the words to the spider man movies, who gives the last popsicle to you and lets you tuck your feet under his thighs when you get cold.

this is a disaster, you think, because you don't know how to kiss! are you supposed to use your tongue? you almost gag at the thought.

quinn can see your very apparent panic, and the only thing on his mind was to make it of away.

he wants to hold your hand, but when you turned nine you had decided that boys had cooties, so you refused to touch him or his brothers.

"...we don't have to," he offers, scratching his neck. one of the boys boo, and you flush.

you shook your head, "i want to."

he smiles, shy and boyish and your heart goes into overdrive.

his face matches yours in colour as he scoots forward awkwardly, cupping your face the way he'd seen his dad do to his mom.

as he leans forward, you burst into tears. if you kiss him, and he's disgusted by your kissing skills - or lack thereof - he wouldn't be your quinn anymore.

you run out embarrassed, leaving quinn's hand outstretched and the older girl from earlier confused and worried.

you think that you had ruined it all, but later that night when quinn offers to take you to get ice cream and lets you get two scoops, you know nothing can tear the two of you apart.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the creek beds we turned up, two A.M. riding in your truck and all I need is you next to me

the year quinn turned 16, he gets his boating and drivers license.

when the first real day of summer - he doesn't count the days until he sees you and the lake house again - starts and he finds you making eggs and bacon in the kitchen, he gives you an offer.

"hey, chickie." he tugs playfully at the string of your apron. jim had given you that nickname because of your mom's. chickie, like a baby bird. jack liked to call you chicklet, and Luke followed suit.

the adults think you've outgrown that name, and only call you chickie sporadically.

it's become special for you and quinn, sacred even,

"hi, quinny." you answer in the same tone, swatting him with the spatula in your hand.

"give me a piece of bacon and i'll take you out onto the water. i'll even let you drive a bit when we're far out." he murmurs as you turn the stove off.

"really?" you squeal, and he winces jokingly.

"yes, yes! finally!" you throw yourself at him, letting the older boy catch you around the waist. he grins into your hair, his cheek muscles unused by the seasons without you.

"okay, kid. pipe down. where's my bacon?" he grumbles, but he smiles when you turn around to fix him a whole plate.

you forget in all of your excitement that he doesn't even like bacon.

it's pathetic, really, but he missed you. he still does even though you're less than a foot away from him, salting your scrambled eggs.

he finishes his food faster than you do, and leaves to set up the boat with your promises that you would hurry.

he's excited; he hasn't seen you since christmas, and then, he had to share you with jack and luke and his parents too.

that year, you and jack had become decidedly closer, and quinn knows he has to establish that boat time was for you and him only.

so when jack and luke both follow you onto the boat, whooping and screaming, he's pissed.

and on top of that, he has to drive the boat while you and jack banter and threaten to shove each other off of the moving vessel.

it wasn't fair: you're his person. you guys did gas station runs together, you always looked at him with sad puppy eyes when you were cold.

he'd always grumbled and give you his sweatshirt when you refused to bring a jacket and ended up shivering. you always begged to braid his hair when the sun was at it's highest and there was nothing to do.

so yeah, excuse him if he was mad that your time together was interrupted by jack and luke of all people.

so when you walk up to him, hair messy and wearing nothing but your bathing suit and one of his old hockey jerseys, he tries his best to ignore you.

"quinny!" you exclaim, nudging his shoulder, and once more when he doesn't answer.

he glances quickly at you, but one look is enough to make his chest squeeze in that way that it started to do since last summer.

you had always been beautiful, but you were starting to be seriously gorgeous.

your hair is windblown, skin tanned and freckled with eyes bright from the sheer novelty of it being summer again.

you'd started to fill out more; the tiny bikinis you - and he - loved made something hot tug in his lower stomach.

tucking your hand into the crook of his elbow in the way that always makes him soften like butter, "I thought you were gonna let me drive!"

"ask jack to teach you," he snarks, and regrets it immediately at the hurt on your face.

his chest tightens, like someone has taken the hurt on your features and shoved it between his rib cage so he couldn't breathe.

the two of you don't talk for the rest of the day.

quinn feels like an asshole, and he really doesn't like how you refuse to sit in your normal spot next to him during movie night, instead opting to tuck yourself between the edge of the couch and luke.

and the salt on the wound was when you don't laugh at the stupid jokes he makes for you, especially.

his mom asks him what he had done when he goes to get more popcorn in the kitchen.

"what? why did you automatically assume I didn't something?" he asked, offended.

"because, that girl sticks to you like a magnet," ellen smooths his temple, "and because no one makes you smile and talk like she does. you've been silent all day."

the next night, he shows up at the door of your room in the lake house your two families shared.

he knocks, and pokes his head in, "chickie?

you're at your table, drawing again like you always were.

he keeps the little sketch of him you made last summer in his wallet, tucked under the picture of all of the hughes boys and you.

you ignore him, and he flops on your bed. the floral sheets your mom bought when you were 11 smells like you. he tries not to be creepy and inhale - at least too noticeably.

"gas station run?" he asks.

you finally spare him a glance, "quinny, it's past one o'clock, and it'll take at least 20 minuted to get there."

"please? I really want chips."

you sigh, ever the martyr, and agree. neither of you mention how the hughes stock up enough snacks to last at least 2 months the beginning of every summer.

the battle of who cracks first kept on, until finally, on the way back from the gas station, quinn sighs, "I'm sorry.

you frown, clearly not impressed, "I don't even know why you're sorry."

"god, this is embarrassing-"

"quintin, i swear-"

"i wanted the boat ride to be just us two!" he exclaims loudly.

there was a beat of silence, only the chirp of crickets that crept in the tall grass you could hear through the open windows of jim's truck.

the light on the radio shined, 1:59 AM.

"what?" you ask, a little confused and very much flustered.

"i missed you, chickie, and jack is always monopolizing your time! you're my person and-"

"are you jealous?"

"what?"

"oh my god, you are! you're jealous!"

"no!" he splutters, grateful that it's pitch black outside, because he can feel his ears heating up.

you laugh, tugging at one of his curls, as he grumbles something about not letting you eat any of his salt and vinegar chips.

"quinny?" you ask a little while later, when he's pulling back into the drive way, "y'know that you're my person too, right?"

you look soft and sleepy, under the light of the car, in one of his hoodies and sleep shorts.

he swears he turns into liquid in the drivers seat.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

well, i was sixteen when suddenly, i wasn't that little girl you used to see

"I wouldn't worry about that, chicklet." jack throws his arm around you, and you roll your eyes at the many girls starting to glare at you.

"I don't know what you're talking about." except you do.

there's a girl flirting with quinn, and she's pretty. she's got tattoos on her arms, and she's tall, almost tall at him.

you take a break from the self-deprecating comparison between yourself and her to admire quinn for one second.

he's gotten so tall and broad, all the signs of boyhood gone, except when he smiles that special smile for you. the one when his eyes get all squinty and he bares all of his pretty teeth.

your heart twists, because he hasn't smiled at you like that all summer.

you don't know what you did wrong. maybe he's outgrowing you. he'll be a college man next fall, and you're still in high school.

he's got the whole world in front of him, and well, you couldn't blame him if he didn't want to settle for you.

you realize your feelings for him the beginning of the summer.

or you uncover them, because if you're honest, they've always been there.

and right now, you're wearing your heart on your sleeve, because he looks so handsome in a tight black t-shirt and shorts, a backwards cap on his curls.

his biceps look huge, and between the teenage hormones and the two shots in your system, you want to climb him like a tree.

the more romantic side of you wished you had your charcoal and parchment, so you can copy down his likeness for when your old and greying and you can't remember how he looks illuminated by the moon and bonfire.

"yeah, sure. you're clueless." jack snorts, and he makes his way to the drink table at the party you're at.

you pass by Luke, who's preoccupied by a girl way too old for him, and go sit closer to the fire.

you're mad.

you're mad because you've dressed up real cute, in a tiny black tube top and denim shorts.

you're mad because your hair is curled the way quinn likes it.

you know that for a fact because every time it looks like that, he comes up behind you to wind his fingers through a strand. it was a hassle, and he won't even look at you.

"what's a pretty girl like you doing alone?"

it's a boy with mussed, brown hair and a nice smile.

he's cute. peter, or pierre, he introduces himself. he reminds you a bit of the boyfriend you had first semester of sophomore year.

you've had boyfriends, and quinn has had his relationships, but summer was sacred.

that's why you felt ill when you flirted with him, not because quinn was a mere 20 feet away, starting to glance over and frown.

quinn has always been a jealous motherfucker; you'd give it 5 minutes before he comes over.

you try not to gloat when he comes over in 2.

"hey, chickie. time to go." he tells you, taking you cup and winding an arm around your waist.

you roll your eyes, pushing him off, "no, I'm good here,"

quinn crosses his arms and puffs out his chest, biceps flexing in front of you.

the boy smiles - you've already forgotten his name, something p - and shrugs at quinn.

he's mad now, you can tell, but you wrap you're fingers around the other boy's elbow to egg him on.

"oh, for- that's it. c'mon."

suddenly, your feet are swept out from under you, and you're thrown over his shoulder.

you frown, realizing that you're in the air.

"hey!" you protest weakly as people turn to look at you. quinn continues his trudge all the way to where he's parked his dad's truck and dumps you on the hood like you weigh nothing.

"what are you doing?" he asks, eyes dark, "that guy is no good-"

"no! what are you doing?" all of your frustration pools in your throat, and embarrassing tears are starting to prick at your eyes.

"you won't even look at me all summer, you're flirting with some girl and you get mad at me? you're being such-"

he shakes his head, looking as exasperated as you feel.

"do you know how hard it is-" he breathes out shakily, "how difficult it is to control myself around you?"

"what?" you ask, heart beating in your ears, "what?"

"i have been in love with you since i was 12, chickie." his tone is begging, and so are his eyes.

he looks pained, and you want to relieve it so, so badly. but he still won't touch you. he's hovering away from you, like he has for the past month.

"i love you, and you see me nothing more than a brother, like how you see jack. and it hurts, here," he rubs the heel of his palm between his ribs, "to know that you'll never want me the same way."

"quinn-"

"no, let me talk. I've spent the past 6 years pining after you. I've tried to move on, but all...nothing compares to you. I want you so bad, chickie, but..." he turns from you, head in his hands.

now, if you weren't like 3 beers and 2 shots deep, you would realize that he can't really go anywhere because you're quite literally on the top of his car.

but drunk you is clearly a dumbass, because you think he's trying to leave. so you tell him what's actually on your mind.

"i love you!" you blurt out.

he turns slowly, "what?"

"i love you too. i thought you didn't want me because you're leaving for college, but i want you so bad, please-"

the next thing you know, he's between your legs, so warm and solid, pulling you in by your cheek like during that spin the bottle game 6 years ago.

you let him kiss you for real this time, you let him push up your shorts to feel more of your skin, you let him lick into your mouth.

he pulls away, and you whine, tugging him in again.

he laughs, which makes you laugh in turn, and you slide down the hood as you giggle. he catches you, because he always does.

"i love you." you tell him, and he flushes, nuzzling into your neck.

"say it again," he demands, just because he can.

"i love you, my quinny." you coo, and he wants to crawl into your skin and settle there forever.

"i love you too, chickie."

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

oh, my, my, my

"told you so." Jim tells the rest of the parents.

the four of them - the weirdos - are on the second floor, leaning on the bannister as you make breakfast with quinn.

well, you make breakfast and he's distracting you.

he's got his arms wrapped around your shoulders from the back, and the two of you waddle like a pair of penguins around the kitchen gathering ingredients for pancakes.

you're giggling, and he's got a half-smile on his face.

you look so happy together than ellen and your mom are ignoring jim's gloating.

they are even kind enough to ignore the exchange of money between the two men, after all, your dad had bet on jack and lost.

"i can't wait for their wedding."

"hold on, now!"

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

a few years had gone and come around, we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

you're on Quinn's lap, content and warm. the two of you had gotten up to watch the sunrise, first day of the summer at the lake house.

it's nice to have everyone in one place again, the two of you coming from vancouver, the boys from new jersey.

the past couple of years had been hard; a year or two long distance, until you went to study architecture at UBC after quinn had been drafted.

this year, 24 and 22, you finally get some rest and the promise of settling down more.

quinn's captain, and you have a good job that lets you work remote and do what you love.

and more importantly, the two of you are always together.

"babe?" quinn asks, running a hand down your arms, "c'mon, let's go to the dock?"

you don't protest, just happy to be at your childhood lake house.

he leads you there, like he always does.

"pretty." you stare out at the water, orange and pink sky meeting in the still horizon.

"yeah." quinn gives you a smile, rare for anyone else.

but he has always smiled for you, and you greedily hoard them in your memories.

"got something to show you," he pulls his wallet out, the two pictures in the clear flaps catch your eye.

one is a polaroid of you and your boys. quinn is 15, jack is 14, you're 13 and luke is 11. all of you are lanky and awkward, wrapped around each other and grinning ear to ear.

the other is also a polaroid, taken by ellen a year or two ago, when all of your parents came to visit your Vancouver apartment.

quinn's arm is around your shoulders and you're clinging to his side, one hand curled around his waist and the other on his chest. you're smiling at the camera, and quinn is smiling at you.

"cute," you tell him, but he digs a finger into the little pocket.

"fuck," he swears when whatever he's looking for doesn't come out.

"here, let me," you offer. you retrieve a piece of thick parchment with your smaller hands.

it's a sketch of quinn you did when you were in your early teens.

it's not great, you have to admit. the lines aren't smooth like how you sketch now, but the ink and paper is in pristine condition.

"quinn...you kept this?" you ask softly, oddly emotional.

when you look at him, he has a weird look on his face. he scratches his neck.

you stare at each other for a moment, the familiarity of your love almost stifling in the cool morning air.

and then he drops down on one knee.

you start crying, immediately.

that sets him off, and the two of you are blubbering as he tries to get through the speech he wrote in his notes 7 months ago after he got the ring and you were in the shower.

he tells you he loves you, how he's never going to leave you, that you're going to build a life together, just like how you've done everything together since you were kids.

you believe him, because your quinn is nothing if not earnest and steady.

you let him slip the simple ring onto your finger, and he lifts you up into strong arms to kiss you.

you're so deliriously happy that your teeth clash with his in a smiling kiss.

your families cheers from the porch, and you laugh, watery and heart full.

jack runs up first, swinging you around and clapping his hand down on quinn's shoulder.

Luke kisses your cheek and hugs his older brother, as ellen and your mom hug you together.

jim wraps his arms around you, pressing his lips to your forehead, "thanks for helping me win the bet, chickie." you chuckle, reaching for your dad next.

..••°°°°••....••°°°°••..

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle, our whole town came and our mamas cried, you said I do and I did too

the wedding takes place a year later, in a small winery near the house, because ellen and your mom refused to let you have the wedding on the dock.

this was your compromise, because it's a small affair.

your dad walks you down the aisle to quinn. you're smiling, like there's a hanger in your mouth because you're just so happy.

he cries when he sees you, and so do the other hughes boys.

you hear your mom and ellen, tears meeting shaky smiles on their faces.

your own college friend, your birdie, fixes your veil and holds your bouquet.

sweet promises are exchanged in your vows, and when you have your first kiss as mr. and mrs. hughes, all of your loved ones cheer.

quinn sweeps you off your feet and bridal carries you to a change room so you can switch into your reception dress.

he sees you later as jack, who volunteered to be the mc, announces you guys as mr. and mrs. hughes.

quinn's eyes are hot and dark as he sees your smooth skin under white lace, and whispers something into the shell of your ear that makes you pink.

you dance together, with his brothers and his dad, with your own too.

but the last dance is saved for the two of you.

"i can't wait to grow old with you, chickie." he whispers romantically.

"you'd make such a cute old man," you tell him, and he rolls his eyes.

you laugh, and so does he.

forever sounds real good to you.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[apuff]

this is like christmas eve for emos

[urfriendlywriter]

friends to lovers heart fluttering moments:

(feel free to use<3 i miss being active :') TAG ME WHEN YALL WRITE PLSSS WOULD LOVE TO READD )

running into their arms after being away for too long !!!!

leaning into each other when laughing.

casually linking arms, holding-hands, sharing hugs that lasts a teensy tiny bit longer. AHHHHH

them watching you do ur own thing with so much admiration [I've one want in life-]

"why?" "because it's you." (like them doing smthng espeviallyyforu)

"I'll do anything, as long as it's with you." n they nonchalantly say it.??? ( MA SONGG OMG)

spending more time together than usual

having your parents tease you and ship you together > ~ <

teasing them and they actually blush???

getting physically close during the denial phase. IMAGINE KISSING AND FREAKING OUT SAYING, "friends... kiss. right?"

getting ur breath hitched whenever they're too close.

imagine lingering with ur mouth slightly parted while both of ur noses brush, eyes fluttering just wondering---where this is going.

^ AND WHEN THEY SAY, "fuck it. may i kiss u?" but their voice is so low, yearning so hard.

getting noticeably shy after going a lil too hard on the kissing--"it's ok, we're still friends, right?"

a third person NOTICING IT AND going, "oh SO yall are the type to kiss and nOT TELL?" "WhAT NO, WE DIDNT-" "YEAH WE DIDN'T."

^ but one if one of them is an idiot n they go, "HOW DID U NOTICE?" "ha, so i was correct. yall mfs-!!!"

and the realising phase of how much you like them

and not being able to wait until u see them. so u can confess, get it out and about.

or what if? they end up ur house at 4 am in pouring rain and say, "i know we're best friends, but i want to be more. Let me be yours forever please, and not just as friends this time." AAAAAAAH.

SCREAMING N FIGHTING KISSING IN THE RAIN, ITS 2 AM N UR LOVIN THEIR NAME SO IN LOVE BUT U ACT INSANEEE N THATS THE WAY U LOVE THEMMM

[divineandmajesticinone]

4 MINUTES (2024) I EP. 6 & EP. 7 "You're still afraid of dogs."

[the-ratmans-shiny-rock]

Actually so mad at all these grown ass people ridiculing tsats and nico and will for not acting like adults?? They're 2 traumatised 15 years olds, they're navigating their first relationship while navigating their traumas and being dorks because God forbid a teenager acts like a teenager and not a 31 year old.

YES, nico and will ARE allowed to gush about star wars and talk about singers and fictional charaters they would date because all teenagers do that and it is not out of charater it's just a NEW PERSPECTIVE.

You're allowed to critique any peice of media but if you're gonna do it when you've only read the FIRST FEW CHAPTERS and it hasn't even been out for a week yet?? Yikes my dude

[angeleternity]

[madmanwonder]

(Ask, Crossover Childhood Friends) Is there a reason Irina why Serena doesn't want you around Ash?

“She saw me a threat to her romance with Ash.” Irina replied with blushing cheeks as much as she would like to say Serena was being excessively paranoid about her, her paranoia was fully justified and understandable.

[hana-no-seiiki]

yanderes with darlings who only dated them because they were too horny to say no

yandere: i love you so much. i would die for you even if you hated me. you’re the light of my life. the only thing in this world that seems bearable - no utterly beautiful. immaculate.

reader: cool. now let’s fuck.