#crazy ex girlfriend chatter

[pitchsidestories]

treat you better (2) II Ingrid Engen x Mapi León x Reader

part 1 I masterlist I word count: 1438

a/n: Hi, we hope you'll love part two as much as part 1 and thanks to @briggtea for sending us the idea for the oneshot.

You stumbled upon that podcast snippet accidentally while scrolling bored through Instagram while your girlfriends were getting ready for bed in the bathroom of the hotel room you were staying in. Nights before big Champions League games always made you feel a bit restless.  It was a queer podcast about sports you enjoyed, that’s why you clicked on it, but you couldn’t stop watching it when you noticed the guest was your ex-girlfriend.

In the scene the host asked her grinning:” How would you rate y/n on a scale from 1 to 10?”

“Maybe a two if I’m being nice.”, your former lover replied with a smug smile on her lips, you wished you could take away from the fellow footballer.

“Oh wow, seems like you got an unpopular opinion here, the internet goes crazy for her.”, the interviewer whistled impressed by the reply of your ex-girlfriend.

“The internet’s falling for her looks. She’s not that great to be with.”, she shrugged.

“So, the rumours are true, you two were together?”, the host curiously lifted an eyebrow at her.

“Maybe. All I can say is that she wasn’t very committed.”, the football player answered laughing which was obviously a blatant lie. After all she was the one who cheated around in London not the other way around.

“That’s bullshit!”, Mapi yelled furiously before ripping the phone out of her hands to throw it on to the bed.

“Babe.”, Ingrid tried soothing your Spanish girlfriend with her calm voice.

“She’s basically gaslighting her!”, the defender protested enraged, shaking off the hand the Norwegian had laid on her shoulder.

“Maria, relax. I know she does, and we’ll prove her wrong on the pitch tomorrow.”, you told her calmly.

 “On the pitch? She’s going around spreading rumours about you when she was the one who cheated on you!”, Mapi snorted angrily.

“No, you don’t understand, amor. She’ll hate losing against us.”, you pointed out.

“I believe you that, but I’d like to hurt her in in more ways than just that.”, she hissed, sounding almost like Bagheera when he was ready to fight whatever caught the cat’s eyes.

“I appreciate it, but trust me, she’s not worth it. Come on we should go to bed.”, you assured her in a soft tone.

“Fine.”, the Spanish player sighed, exhaustion was catching up with her. Quickly she and Ingrid laid down, you were in their middle.

“Sleep well, my loves.”, Ingrid gave each of you a good night kiss.

“Good night, girls.”, you whispered, once again feeling very lucky to have them in your life.

“Night.”, Mapi mumbled, already half-asleep. Sleep took the three of you in quick succession.

You tried to focus on yourself as best as you could while you got ready for the game. Ignore the noise, forget about your ex. There was just you and the game in front of you.

Even the chatter of your teammates faded into the background until something touched your elbow.

“Y/n?“

You looked up to Alexia studying your face.

“Yes, Capi?“

“Do you feel ready?“, she asked.

You watched a small line between her eyebrows as she frowned.

Nodding once, you replied: “Ready and focused.“

“Good.“

“Don’t worry.“, you assured her and forced yourself to a smile.

Alexia shook her head, considering you: “I just don’t want you to do anything stupid out there.“

“I won’t. You know I’m not the type such behaviour.“

“I’m just saying…“

You sighed, locking eyes with her: “Promise.“

This seemed to relax your captain. She nodded slowly and then clapped her hands: “Alright, let’s win this then.“

“Please.“, you agreed. You refused to imagine your ex cheering with her teammates.

Ingrid squeezed your hand as she passed you: “Come on.“

“Coming.“, you smiled back at her.

Mapi appeared on your side right as you were about to walk out on the pitch. She nodded into the direction of a very familiar ponytail: “There she is.“

Apparently, she had felt your gaze on her because in that exact moment, she turned around and flashed you a bright smile.

You swallowed hard as she walked towards you, all innocence: “Hi.“

“Hi, good luck.“, you answered plainly.

“You’ll need it more.“, she smirked.

It took you a lot not to roll your eyes about her arrogance. Instead you shrugged: “I think you’re wrong about this.“

You jogged onto the field to warm up, leaving her behind to watch.

The first half of the game remained calm as you had expected. Both teams testing the waters, not risking too much that early in the game. Barcelona had more chances but had not used them yet. You know you had to be more clinical in the next fourty-five minutes.

In the second half, the whole game changed. It got rougher, more aggressive and you had your problems with that.

It was more than frustration, it was pure anger. Your exes smug grin, the unnecessary fouls by the other team, the unsuccessful attacks. You just wanted to scream.

You took a deep breath and gathered yourself, there was no use. You had to stay focused.

It worked until the seventieth minute. Chelsea was on attack but Mapi won the ball easily. She hesitated for a half a second before passing it to Lucy.

Your ex saw this moment of hesitation as an opportunity. She wanted to win the ball back with a slide tackle but her timing was off. She crashed into Mapi, her studs colliding with your girlfriends ankle.

Mapi was on the grass, screaming in pain while your ex got up, unfazed by the incident. There was not even an apology.

Ingrid was already kneeling beside your girlfriend when you ran over to them.

“Shit.“, the Spanish defender cursed under her breath.

“Mapi, are you okay?!”, you asked her deeply worried.

“Yeah.”, she answered through gritted teeth.

“I swear she did it intentionally. I’m going to.”, you begun.

But a firm, big hand prevented you from walking up to your former girlfriend.

“No, you’re not doing anything.”, Alexia interrupted you, her voice dripping with determination.

“Stay calm and carry on, y/n.”, Marta added.

“But.”, you started.

“Score the winning goal for us.”, Aitana suggested with a wink, hoping it would stop you from doing something stupid.

“It doesn’t work like that, Aitana.”, you reminded her.

“Maybe it does.”, she replied encouragingly. While your gaze followed a hurt Mapi who got subbed off. A spark of extra motivation hit you when you saw that. Maybe the Catalan midfielder was right about that.

It was the last minute of the game when your chance arrived to turn the draw into a win, Caroline played a cross to you which you only had to head in with your head. It was a goal, Barcelona has won once more against the English team.

Aitana jumped into your opened arms.” See? I told you so.”, she cheered.

“There’s no fucking way.”, you could hear your ex-girlfriend scolding, shooting mad glances at you from afar, but you couldn’t care less.

As the referee blew the final whistle you sprinted to the bench where Ingrid and Mapi were the first to pull you into a group hug.

“We won girls!”, you laughed happily.

“You were amazing.”, the Spanish defender whispered proudly into your ear.

“And your goal was amazing.”, the tall dark-haired woman beamed at you.

“Thank you. Have you seen her face after I scored?”, you wanted to know from them with a hint of malicious joy.

“She deserved that.”, Mapi noted.

“How are you feeling? Her foul looked bad.”, you suddenly remembered, looking concerned at your girlfriend.

“I’m okay. She went right for the ankle, but it’s not too bad.” she calmed you.

“At least that.”, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Don’t worry about me.”, the heavily tattooed woman said.

“Come on, girls, time to celebrate that win properly.”, Ingrid intervened smiling.

“Yes, y/n deserves it.”, Mapi agreed smirking.

“And we make sure she gets her reward for her great game and her bravery.”, the Norwegian continued delighted.

“Oh, we’ll.”, your other girlfriend shared a knowing glance with her.

“Girls.”, you blushed listening to their words.

“We’re just proud of you.”, Ingrid declared.

“And we’ll show you how proud later tonight.”, the defender winked.

“We can’t just leave now.”, you protested, pointing to the rest of their teammates who were still celebrating.

“No one will notice trust us.”, the Scandinavian argued.

“Alright, let’s go.”, you give in, knowing fully well that your girlfriends would always treat you better than your former lover. And the night had just begun, it was set to be unforgettable.

[armpirate]

Anti-romantic || JJk | Ch. 45

Pairings: Boxer!Jungkook x fem!reader || Enemies to lovers, neighbors

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, curse, illegal boxing, violence

Warnings: fuckboy!Jungkook x reader, smut, dirty talk, curse, mention of tarot and fate

Summary: Jungkook had always been carefree when it came to love. He always believed he was worth sharing himself with everyone, and thought it was selfish of him to ever think of keeping himself exclusive to just one person.

And maybe that was exactly what got him into the big problem he was in.

A curse that kept him away from love didn't seem an issue for him. The fact that his ex-girlfriend thought he'd be affected by the idea of the girls he slept with running away from him after sex was ridiculous. She actually did him a favor, and took a burden away from him.

At least that was what he thought at first.

He had never found himself thinking of the possibility of repeating with neither of his hook ups, because they disappeared before he was able to even think about it. But when he makes the mistake of sleeping with the sexy neighbor that lives in front of him, he finds himself hoping to get the chance for a second round every time their paths cross.

Y/n hated him the second he set foot inside the building by the way he started making her life a miserable mess for no reason. Sleeping with him was a big mistake she wasn't thinking of repeating. At least not until he came up with the excuse that she rejected him for a curse. Not only she thought he was annoying, but she was also convinced he was crazy. 

There was no way she could take him seriously.

Aprox. time of reading: 20 minutes

Previous || Next

MASTERLIST

Y/n sat at her desk in the office, staring at the blinking cursor on her screen. The article she was supposed to write had been due hours ago, but her thoughts were nowhere near the assignment. They were across town, tied to memories she'd been trying to suppress for months. Jungkook's face, his voice, and the way his eyes seemed to carry every apology he couldn't say aloud haunted her. She clenched her fists against the desk, frustrated that, even after all this time, she hadn't moved on.

Her colleagues bustled around her, their chatter about deadlines and coffee breaks blending into background noise. Jackie passed her by, dropping a cup of coffee on her desk.

—You look like you've been hit by a train. Take a breather before you burn out.

—Thanks, Jackie —Y/n gave a weak smile.

But even as she sipped the lukewarm coffee, her mind wandered. She hadn't seen Jungkook in weeks—months, even. She didn't really consider seeing his back while he got on the elevator as seeing him. The last time they'd crossed paths in the building, he'd looked like he wanted to say something but had turned away instead. That avoidance had become the norm, turning the silence between them from something temporary to something permanent that had taken months already. And now, with her apartment lease dragging her down like an anchor, she felt trapped, both by her circumstances and the emotions she'd buried.

A sharp knock on her desk startled her. It was her editor.

—Y/n, if you're not going to write about the story you were assigned, write about something else. But I need a copy, not daydreams —he sighed—. Your article was great, but I need you to come up with something new. Glory doesn't last forever.

She nodded, quickly typing nonsense to appear productive as the editor walked away. She wasn't sure what to write, but she knew one thing: the story she couldn't escape was her own.

Y/n's fingers danced across the keyboard, the rhythmic clicks punctuating the quiet environment of the newsroom. Her eyes skimmed over her half-finished article, but her thoughts were far from the words on the screen. She leaned back in her chair, letting out a frustrated sigh. The memory of her phone call that morning lingered like a bitter aftertaste. It was like whatever course Jungkook had moved to her apartment, making it impossible for her to get rid of it as hard as she tried.

—Fuck —she muttered under her breath, her palm rubbing against her forehead.

She knew what that meant. The safety net she had envisioned, moving out quietly, away from the place where every corner held a memory of Jungkook, was gone. With her contract not due to expire for another two months, she was trapped. Trapped in the building, in the same air that carried his absence. Trapped in a life she desperately wanted to leave behind. But considering the hard time she had finding someone to get her apartment, she thought it was just better to wait for the contract to finish than getting another headache.

Y/n took a sip of coffee, her mind wandering to Jungkook again. It wasn't just the fact that he'd stepped away; it was how. He hadn't given her a reason, just that tired line about not being in love at all. But she'd seen it in his eyes: the hesitation, the pain. It hadn't felt like the truth, but she had accepted it anyway. What choice did she have?

Her phone buzzed on the desk, jolting her from her reverie. A message from Alma lit up the screen:

"Dinner after work? You need to vent."

Y/n smiled faintly but didn't reply. She wasn't sure venting would help. It wasn't just about Jungkook, it was the mess her life had become, a cycle of unresolved feelings and unfinished business.

She thought about the situation with Jungkook. If they were going to coexist for the next two months, she'd have to make peace with him, or at least find a way to pretend things were normal. She couldn't handle the suffocating tension anymore. Maybe, just maybe, she could convince him to talk, to explain why he'd really left. Not to mend things, but to find closure.

For the first time that day, she felt a spark of determination. She closed her laptop, grabbed her bag, and headed for the elevator.

The familiar clang of weights and muffled grunts of exertion greeted Y/n as she stepped into the gym. The sharp smell of sweat mixed with the faint tang of disinfectant, a reminder of the countless hours spent training and pushing limits in this space. It hadn't changed a bit since the last time she'd been there, not that she expected it to.

At the reception desk, Jimin was hunched over a stack of papers, scribbling furiously. He looked up as the bell above the door jingled, his expression shifting from surprise to something softer.

—Y/n —he said, setting his pen down—. Didn't think I'd see you here again.

She forced a small smile.

—I need to talk to Jungkook. Is he around?

—Not right now —Jimin hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly—. He's been a bit busy.

The weight of unspoken words hung between them. Y/n leaned her elbows on the counter, her voice lowering.

—Busy with what?

—He didn't tell you?

Slowly, Y/n shook her head, her eyes never leaving the man's in front of her. With a sigh, Jimin glanced toward the office door.

—He's planning to leave for Indianapolis. Said he needs some time with his dad.

The words hit her like a punch to the stomach. She straightened, gripping the strap of her bag tighter.

—Indianapolis?

—Yeah —Jimin studied her face, his voice softening—. He didn't say much, but I think he's trying to figure things out. He's been through a lot. You both have. Since he's already free from the whole trial thing, he started making plans. My girlfriend and I are moving to his apartment next week.

Y/n nodded absently, her mind racing. So this was it. The distance she had been trying to close wasn't just emotional, it was about to become physical. He was leaving, and she wouldn't get another chance to understand why he'd pushed her away in the first place.

—I just... —she started, but the words faltered— Is it linked to why he broke up with me?

—I’m a good friend, I won’t…

But it took one warning look from Y/n to get Jimin to speak.

—He’s scared he isn’t enough for you, to only add negative things. So he thought it was better to step back himself, because he knew you wouldn’t. I already told him it was a dumb idea, but he never listens to me. That bastard only listens to himself, like my opinion doesn’t count…

Y/n lost track of Jimin’s rant at some point, only able to think about Jungkook and his dumb mind, ever believing something like that.

What could she even say?

Jimin, realizing her expression, stopped his rant to throw some guidance upon her.

—If you want to talk to him, you should do it soon —Jimin said, his tone gentle but firm—. He just left for the airport, so it's possible you'll catch him before he leaves.

She swallowed hard, offering Jimin a tight smile.

—Thanks, Jimin.

As she turned to leave, her heart felt heavier than ever. Maybe it was time to stop waiting for answers and start finding them herself.

Y/n walked out of the gym, the phone pressed tightly to her ear. For the third time, the call rang twice before cutting off. She stared at the screen, heart hammering as the words "Call Ended" stared back at her. He wasn't just ignoring her, he was hanging up.

Frustration bubbled inside her as she hit redial, only to have the same result.

—Fine —she muttered, determined to speak to him no matter what.

If he wouldn't answer, she'd go find him herself.

She flagged a cab outside the building, breathless as she slid into the back seat.

—O'Hare Airport, please. As fast as you can.

The driver gave a curt nod, but as they pulled onto the main road, traffic slowed to a crawl. The line of red taillights stretched endlessly ahead, and Y/n's stomach twisted with impatience. She checked her watch for the tenth time, calculating how much time she had left before his flight, doing the maths with the little information Jimin had given her.

—Fuck, not right now —she started, but her voice faltered as her gaze landed on a parked bike along the sidewalk to her right.

—I'll stop here —she said abruptly.

The driver frowned.

—What? We're in the middle of...

—It's okay, I'll stop here —she shoved a handful of cash into his hand as the car rolled to a halt.

Without waiting for an answer, she flung the door open, darting toward the bike. Its owner, a young man wearing earbuds, barely noticed her until she was already in front of him.

—I'll give you fifty bucks to borrow your bike —she blurted out, holding up her wallet.

The guy raised an eyebrow, pulling out an earbud.

—Uh, what? Wait, I know you —he raised his finger to look at her, his smile smirking—. You wrote that article, right?

Y/n looked at him, although he stopped her before she could urge him to give her the bike.

—That article about the biggest ball of cheese in the world. I loved it.

—Yeah, yeah... It's me —Y/n said, shaking her hands in the air as if resting importance to it, her voice cracking slightly—. I need your bike. It's an emergency. I'll bring it back, I promise.

The man looked at her for a moment before shrugging.

—Make it a hundred.

—Done —she shoved the bills into his hand and climbed onto the bike, wobbling slightly as she adjusted to the unfamiliar weight.

It took her only one movement for her to lose balance and fall to the ground. Although she had no time to cry out about it. She jumped back on the bike, ignoring the itch on her thigh, before she started pedalling, retaking the route that had been stopped by the traffic.

The cold wind bit at her cheeks as she pushed harder, the airport looming closer with every frantic turn of the pedals. She didn't have a plan, just an overwhelming need to get there before it was too late.

Y/n skidded into the bustling terminal, the announcement of flights crackling through the speakers above her. Her eyes darted to the nearest departures screen, scanning the list of destinations until she spotted it: Indianapolis, Gate 17. The words "Boarding Now" sent a spike of urgency through her chest.

She pushed through the crowded terminal, her legs aching from the frantic bike ride. The clock on the wall ticked closer to the flight's departure time, and she cursed herself for not leaving her office earlier.

When she reached security, a uniformed guard stepped in front of her.

—Ticket and ID, please.

—I... I don't have a ticket —she stammered, her breath coming in gasps—. I'm not boarding. I just need to see someone before they leave. It's an emergency.

The guard's face remained impassive.

—Sorry, ma'am. No ticket, no entry.

—It'll be a quick come and go, I won't take longer than five minutes —she assured him—. You'll be able to check yourself, will you still be here?

Although he didn't answer, it was obvious by his serious expression that he wasn't planning on moving.

—Please —Y/n begged, tears pricking her eyes—. He's leaving, and I won't...

—Step aside —the guard said firmly, motioning for her to move out of the line.

Y/n's shoulders sagged as she moved to the side, watching passengers file through the security checkpoint. Her pulse thundered in her ears.

This can't be it. I can't just let him leave.

Her hands clenched into fists as an idea formed. It was reckless, probably illegal, but she had no other choice. She took a deep breath, and got rid of the guard's grip. Her body moved quickly. First on one side, then on the other, trying to find a space she could sneak in, but he was too big for her to do that, so she opted for simply blowing air against his face. The gesture alone shocked him for a few seconds, shaken up while he closed his eyes to recover from the sudden dryness. She then dropped to the ground, crawling on her hands and knees between the guard's legs.

—Hey! —the guard shouted, twisting around to grab her, but she was already scrambling to her feet on the other side.

—Sorry! —she yelled over her shoulder, breaking into a sprint.

The terminal blurred around her as she raced toward Gate 17. She ignored the startled cries of passengers and the sound of heavy boots behind her. All that mattered was getting to him before the plane took off.

Y/n barely recognized how her legs carried her forward as the guards pulled her back. Her voice cracked as she shouted.

—Jungkook! —it wasn't loud, and it wasn't clear, but it was enough.

Enough for him to stop in his tracks. Enough for him to turn, his bucket hat tilting slightly as he scanned the space.

From her restricted position, Y/n locked eyes with him, those same dark eyes that had held her secrets, her dreams, and now, her goodbye. She could see his hesitation even from a distance, the slight shift in his stance as though he was debating whether to walk away or close the gap between them.

—Jungkook! —she yelled again, desperation breaking her voice.

But her moment was cut short as the security guards pulled her further away from the boarding gates, her feet scraping against the polished airport floor.

Jungkook's lips parted, as if to say something, but no words came out. He didn't move. He didn't run to her like the movies she used to tease him about. He just stood there, a thousand unspoken emotions etched into the curve of his shoulders and the tilt of his head.

And then, slowly, he turned away.

Y/n stopped resisting the guards at that moment, her body slumping against their grip. She didn't even have the energy to fight them anymore. All she could do was watch as Jungkook walked toward his flight, disappearing into the crowd of passengers.

Her voice was small now, hoarse from shouting.

—Please... —she whispered, though she knew it wouldn't reach him.

Not anymore.

As the guards escorted her out of the restricted area, tears blurred her vision, and her chest felt impossibly heavy. She had taken the leap, fought against every obstacle to reach him, but maybe it was never her battle to win.

Y/n sat in the cramped, fluorescent-lit office of airport security, her face buried in her hands. She replayed every step of the day in her mind, cursing herself for being reckless and failing to catch him in time. Her heart felt heavier with each passing moment, weighed down by the realization that Jungkook was already gone.

She lifted her head, staring blankly at the clock on the wall. She kept lamenting how she didn't get to see him before he left, the words cracking like glass against the silence of the room.

Her hands clenched into fists on her lap, frustration bubbling to the surface. What had she been thinking? Barging into the airport, causing a scene, thinking her presence would change everything. She felt foolish, reckless, and worst of all, hopeless.

Just as she was about to let herself sink deeper into regret, the sound of the door opening pulled her from her thoughts. She looked up, and her breath caught in her throat.

There he was: Jungkook. His bucket hat was gone now, and his dark hair was slightly mussed, as if he had run his hand through it a dozen times. His eyes, wide and searching, locked onto hers. For a moment, neither of them spoke.

—I'm coming to pick her up —he said softly, stepping further into the room. His voice carried a mixture of relief when aware of her still there and concern, though his face remained unreadable.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She blinked, half-expecting this to be a dream or some cruel trick of her imagination.

—What... what are you doing here? —she managed to whisper.

—I came to get you —he replied simply, his tone steady but his eyes betraying the mess of thoughts he was holding back.

She shook her head, confusion flickering across her face.

—Your flight...

Before she could continue, the guard got Jungkook's attention again.

He did want to leave, he almost did. But the fact that she went all the way to the airport, and bothered herself to break some rules just to see him, couldn't be repaid with indifference. He had some limits, even to himself.

—She is a little... impulsive. Between you and me, she's a little crazy and she probably forgot to take her pills today —he added on a lower tone—. She isn't really aware of how she acts when she's in the middle of a difficult situation. I was leaving because I needed to check some doctors that could take care of her disorder... You've seen how extreme it is.

Y/n battled not to look offended when he used that excuse, as soon as she saw the way the guard moved his eyes between them two.

—You realize we could press charges for this? —the guard raised an eyebrow, skeptical.

—I do, and I apologize on her behalf. But she's not a threat. Haven't you ever looked at your wife and thought she's crazy? You're lucky it's just a thought, because my girlfriend literally is. It's getting so hard to keep up —Jungkook's voice cracked up at some point, his hand moving up to the bridge of his nose.

—I guess, we could forget about this.

—Yes, exactly —he immediately looked up—. I'll take full responsibility for her actions. I'll make sure she doesn't try anything like this again. Please, let this stay here and not escalate further. Just so you keep it in mind, she gets a bit hysterical when I'm not around. Banging head against walls, continuous screaming... stuff like that.

The guard leaned back in his chair, weighing his options. After a few moments of tense silence, he sighed.

—Fine. I'll let her go this time, but she's lucky I'm feeling generous. Any other day, and she'd be looking at charges.

—Thank you —Jungkook said sincerely, bowing his head slightly.

The guard turned to Y/n.

—You're free to go, but next time, think before you act. We won't be so forgiving again.

—Let's go —he walked to her, holding her wrist to move her fingers to the edge of his jacket—. Hold onto me, and let's get out of here so the nice man can enjoy some time alone.

Y/n stared at his wide back, following his steps while she tried to dodge the curious look from the guard.

As they stepped outside the airport's bustling terminal, far enough from the office she was in, Jungkook turned to her, his expression unreadable.

—What were you doing, Y/n? Why would you pull something like that?

—I had to see you —she admitted, her voice trembling—. I couldn't just let you leave without speaking to you first —she trailed off, unable to go on with her explanation.

—You didn't have to go this far —he exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair—. Do you even realize what could've happened to you?

—I didn't care —she said, her voice firmer this time—. Although it doesn't matter, because we make a good team and you always have my back —she playfully punched his side.

Jungkook looked at her for a long moment, no reaction for her attempt to get closer to him, his eyes softening despite himself. But he quickly shook his head, pulling his bucket hat lower over his face.

—You shouldn't have done this, Y/n. You don't know yet, but you will realize... I'm not worth this.

He was getting ready to escape again, but she stopped him, fingers gripping on the sleeve of his jacket.

—Worth of what, Jungkook? —her heartbeats were furious against her ribcage.

—Worth of you —he admitted, after turning to her—, your love. You give me so many things, and all I've brought into your life was pain and worry. It's not fair.

—That's all you think you gave me? —her eyes searched his— If that's so, seems like you haven't paid much attention to our relationship. You gave me the best months of my life —she confessed with a sad smile—. Even when I hated you, I felt like you were the only person I wanted to see every day.

—Why are you doing this?

—Because you think your only option is leaving, and I want you to know there's a better choice.

—Leaving is the right choice —he immediately fought back—. I know it'll hurt now, and I promise it'll be the last time I do it. You'll thank me in the long run.

Y/n covered his lips with her hands, stopping him from saying any more words that could hurt them both.

—I won't —she shook her head, her eyes watering—. You're again blaming yourself for something it's not your fault. I'd have done all the things I've done with or without you, you just were a support that made things better and easier. I love you and I want to be with you, so be honest and try to tell me you don't love me the same way.

Jungkook blinked, trying to process everything that was happening. How the woman he wanted to run from ran in his direction instead, how she didn't want to let go of the special thing that linked them together.

Carefully, his fingers surrounded her wrist, moving her hand down away from her lips.

—You can't tell me to say something and keep me shut with your hands.

Instead of being offended, Y/n smiled at his tone, knowing that'd only mean her Jungkook was back to the one she knew.

—I love you, 3A. Of course I do —he confessed—. And if you still want me after being so stupid to move away from you, there will be nothing stopping me from being glued to you day and night.

Her eyes shined with happiness, her hands ghosting his cheeks, yet he still could feel her warmth caressing him sweetly. Her palms clapped against his skin loudly, hurting him a bit, while she cupped his face.

—You better start communicating properly from now on, because I'll kick your balls if I have to find out something else through anything or anyone that isn't you —her hands pressed harder on his face—. Like how I had to find out through Jimin he's going to live in your apartment because you're moving out.

—Moving out? —his voice almost sounded muffled by the way his lips were puckered— I'm not moving out. I was going to be in Indianapolis for a month, at most two.

—What?

Y/n let go of him, confused at that new information.

—Since the trial is done, I can go back to my routine. My dad always comes here, so I thought it was good to go visit him for once. Jimin is staying while I'm away, but he isn't moving there.

—Oh... so I did all of this for nothing?

—You mean you wouldn't have done this if I had returned next month?

—I thought you were leaving forever. If I had known, I probably would've waited. We've gone months without speaking, anyway.

—How sweet of you. That's my girlfriend, ladies and gentleman.

—Your what?

—My beautiful girlfriend, who won't be able to live without me from now on —he tilted his head—. The person I love and owns my heart, the woman I'm going to marry... Pick your favorite. By the way...

Before he could come up with a whole new rant, Y/n cupped his cheeks again, standing on her tiptoes just so she could kiss him on the lips once more. Jungkook was the one who interrupted the kiss, squeezing her side to get her body to squirm.

—Who was the dick that left your apartment the other night?

—Which one of them?

Instead of laughing, Jungkook's fingers held a tighter grip on her side, almost making her moan.

—Okay, okay... I was going to rent my apartment —she confessed, Jungkook's grip turning softer almost instantly—. Thank god I didn't find anyone though...

—So you weren't seeing anyone else?

—While being stressed because of you? My mind can only keep up with one man at a time —she scoffed, starting to walk.

—Good. Because I'm the only man you'll keep up with.

—From now on? Or do I have until tomorrow now that everything's clear between us?

Jungkook smirked, walking behind her, before a slap made her giggle before turning to him. He searched for her hand as he walked a bit faster, and she moved it to him so he wouldn't have to wait any longer, their fingers intertwining while making their way to the parking lot. Although he almost fell to his knees when she closed her fingers a little bit too hard around his palm.

—So I'm crazy, huh?

—Babe, you're a bit... ah! —his foot stomped against the ground— But you're so incredibly gorgeous and smart, I barely notice.

—You're so lucky I've missed you —she finally let go, holding onto his hand back with the same care.

—I've missed you, too —he confessed, the hand that was holding hers moving up while their fingers were still locked, just so he could place it around her shoulders, his face hiding in the curve of her neck—. I'm going to spend all night showing you.

—Good, you need to make up for all the wasted months —she grinned—. I'm not letting you go until you've had enough of me.

—We might have a problem, then. 

Taglist: @jk97bam @ttanniett

[mercysimming]

every teenage friend group has to have that one friend who fake overreacts to everything ( lot )

prev / next.

Transcript:

Emery: I'm telling you, dude, you should join me for dance class sometime. You've got rhythm.

August: Don't give the perfectionist any ideas, Em.

Avery: [sarcastically] Wow, thanks. Whatever, I like dancing for fun anyway, not in some "learning environment."

Emery: You make it sound so dirty.

Emery: Same as usual?

Avery & August, in unison: Yeah.

Emery: I'll order, then.

[info: August Lawton. she/they. goth baby bat (affectionate). best music taste in town. met Avery 2 years ago. friends with Emery since grade school. has drama with her not-actually-ex-girlfriend. bass player who believes she is the most important member of their not-a-band (she's right).]

Avery: What?

August: You're in a good mood. What're you hiding?

Avery: Trying to get the gossip while Em is busy? Classy.

August: Only if you're not gonna tell him.

Avery: I'll give all the gory details, just wait for the food.

[narration: A bit later. Yes, this is their usual order.]

[narration: A quiet lingers for several moments as the group starts eating, the only sounds coming from the quiet chatter of nearby diners and utensils on plates. Avery's silence is almost tangibly smug.]

August: Avery!

Avery: What? Damn—

August: You had something to tell us.

[info: Avery Banks. she/her. daughter of Candy & Mikhail. wannabe rebel. actually a straight-A student with a complex about being perfect. sarcasm as a love language. plays guitar. has never been in a relationship. has been planning on bragging about this for two days straight.]

Avery: Guess who's getting to go to Mt. Komorebi this summer.

[info: Emery Baldwin. they/them. introduced to Avery by August. unlike the other two, completely aware that they are considered weirdo losers at school. somehow the most confident of the three of them. funniest of the friend group. plays drums. the ACTUAL troublemaker.]

Emery: You were hiding THAT from us? Details, details, details!

Avery: [laughs] I guess my aunts decided that it would be cool for me and my brothers to hang out there this summer.

August: There's no fucking way your parents agreed to that.

Avery: Yeah, it's kinda crazy, not gonna lie. I think they're good with it because Julien's almost 18 and the golden child. They think he'll "keep us in line" or some shit. Like he doesn't sneak out to see his boyfriend three times a week.

Emery: Man, I wanna go to Mt. Komorebi. Any chance you can get a plus one?

August: Plus TWO.

Avery: Nope. Ma's letting perfect Julien invite Javier, but that's it.

[Avery, thinking: Totally bullshit.]

August: Don't get it twisted, Ave. You know it's only because your parents are close with Javier's.

Emery: Well, whatever, fine. Have fun soaking in the hot springs while I spend my summer at work.

[choice: bitch dramatically]

[youraverageaemondsimp]

i'm in the mood for some fluffy modern aemond x ethnic reader. i just want to have this hilarious choice between his fucked up family and hers.

if she had to admit, making aemond meet her ethnic aunties was one of the biggest hurdles of their relationship, as she knew how blunt they could be. but aemond insisted, as he wanted things to get serious. so, of course, she warned him on how blunt her ethnic aunties could be. true to her words, they were blunt as hell.

"oh my god! aemy-ah! eat some more! you look ugly because you are skinny!" said one of the aunties, shoving food down his throat.

"here aemy-ah! this will make your scar go away! you look ugly with it!"

"here aemy-ah! this will make the pain on your face go away!"

"when are you going to be promoted, aemy-ah?! your brother is useless!"

initially, they used to sting. but, gradually, he saw on how much they cared about him, even though that it might not be in the westerosi way. he looked at her, huffing in both happiness and faux chagrin-loving manner. without a doubt, despite their characters, it was clear that her aunties loved her very much. he saw on how they would defend her against one of her shitty exes.

"who was that guy again? demon?"

"auntie-ah! that is not how you say his english name!" huffed his beautiful girlfriend.

"well, to be fair, he is a demon, love," smirked aemond, before kissing her cheek while wrapping a dumpling with her that they would deep fry later on.

and, if he had to admit, their affections towards him were much more heart-warming than his own family. he could not help but have tears prick at the corner of his eye. he wished that his family's chaos were like this. not bat-shit crazy.

he saw on how her family would defend her like crazy whenever she cried. he saw on how her family would fight to make sure that she would succeed in both her professional and personal life. and he saw how they would slip in little treats for her. he never had that with his family.

"aemond," his beautiful girlfriend said softly to him, while the aunties chattered away while roasting some pork and skewered chicken.

"are you okay?" she whispered, holding his hand. she then took him to the sheltered spot to prevent his eye from hurting too much.

aemond tightened his grip on her wrist and bringing it to his lips and kissing it.

"i'm just-" he began, shaking his head.

"i know," she whispered, rubbing soothing circles around his back.

he then grabbed his beautiful girlfriend and held her tightly. how he wished that his family would be just as loving and supportive as hers.

"you don't have to go to the family dinner next week, aemond. you always become extremely depressed afterwards," she whispered.

he could not help but feel incredibly embarrassed about his own family. his brother, who was a drunk. jace and baela being obsessed with each other. his mother, alicent, giving daggers at rhaenyra. his uncle, daemon, giving side eyes at his grandfather. his father, viserys, was nothing more than a dead-beat daddy. and halaena, despite being kind, would always ignore him and become incredibly engrossed in her bugs and books.

"you don't have to come next week. it's my problem to deal with. not yours," he replied softly.

he's a grown man, after all. he could handle it all by himself. but she shook her head.

"i'll come with you," she insisted.

aemond opened his mouth but she cuts him off, "aemond, when i decided to commit to you, that meant i decided to accept all of you".

she then added, "my kind takes romantic relationships seriously so when i decided to say yes to you, i mean it".

aemond could not help but feel warmth through his heart. not once had he ever had someone who was his pillar of support. sure he had his mother but she was a lot more focused on preparing aegon for the company, despite having arrived in meetings drunk as hell. as for halaena, despite his love for her, she was never there for him.

"you know, i don't regret you yelling at me that day for being arrogant and too ambitious in my business strategies," he confessed, a soft smile on his lips.

"dude! if the company collapses, my job is fucked! honestly, i was shitting bricks that day. and i cried afterwards because i was scared of being fired," she admitted in a soft chuckle.

"and you gave aegon a black-eye," he chuckled.

"he was drunk, aemond! would you trust a drunk pilot?! and his business strategies?! shitty as hell! no plan, whatsoever!" she huffed.

"but, you do have a great sense of strategy, love," he admitted.

"dude, my people are very business-oriented. we pay in cash! credit cards are nothing more than useless plastic waste to us!" she laughed.

he wrapped his arms around her tightly and tucked her against his chest, hiding her from the world. he'd never share her.

"so, when are you two going to get married?" asked one of her aunties.

"you are not getting younger! hurry up and get married!"

"just marry him, already, haiyah! he is rich! and handsome!" said one of the aunties, squeezing one of his biceps.

"and have babies too! you need to have babies! they will give you more luck!"

"many many babies!"

"auntie-ah!" she cried, covering her face in embarrassment.

the aunties then turned around and looked at him now.

"here! have some of these! you need to eat more!" said one of them, shoving plastic tupperwares into his hands.

"and have some of these as well! they are better than antibiotics!" said one of the aunties, shoving a plastic bag into his other free hand filled with ointments. if he had to admit, they were soothing against the gnawing pain on his left eye. he definitely needed to know the shop to buy them.

"and marry her quickly!"

"make sure you get her pregnant!"

"and have multiple babies, already!"

"i need to see her get married! i am not getting younger!"

aemond could not help but laugh, as he felt the ring in his pocket. in which he would pull out that night. over a large steaming bowl of comforting hot pot.

LMFAO WHAT 😭😭😭

[honeybeeloxs]

can i ask for works on wayne bailey?? i only see people writing for ethan and it drives me insane when i’m trying to search for wayne

03

Wayne Bailey X Male Reader

This has been like fermenting in my inbox for like ever now... yea, here's this, I guess,

You're basically like Nancy Loomis but married to Wayne, I GUESS... IDK... In shorter terms, the bitch is damn crazy.

SUMMARY:

SPOILERS FOR SCREAM 6 No Mention of Y/N

You and Wayne have been married since 03, and You two met on your lunch break; being a college professor isn't too bad. Still, you two fell in love immediately, marrying each other in Spring.

He was staring again; you found it comforting; he loved watching you before telling him he was staring again. A blush would blossom on his face, "Oh, Wayne…." you sighed as you checked the oven clock, "8:09," You huffed; kids gotta get up soon for school," Wayne nodded in response before reading the newspaper he got from the mailbox. You and Wayne have been married since 03, and You two met on your lunch break; being a college professor isn't too bad. Still, you two fell in love immediately, marrying each other in Spring; your babies were still very young. Richie didn't like you at first; however, their Biological mother was never in the scene, and you decided to fill that role; You loved the kids like they were your own, cared for them, and nurtured them. 

It took Richie a while to call you 'dad.' but when he did, you broke down crying with Wayne hugging you and rocking back n forth. You could tell the father-son bond Wayne had with Richie, supporting him and his obsession with the 'STAB' movies, and with Quinn being their only daughter, it just left Ethan. Ethan was clearly the black sheep of the siblings, but you cared for him so much more, went to all his baseball games, and helped him with his homework. You took time out of your day to tell Ethan you love him, so he doesn't feel left out; he would smile and hug you before going to his room.

"Fucking Bitch." Wayne mumbled under his breath as he sat by his desk, papers scattered everywhere. You could tell his mental health was suffering, "Hey…." you walked into your shared bedroom, holding a dinner plate. "You missed dinner," you softly tell him as you put the colorful plate on his desk.

"Sorry…" he mumbles as you kiss him on the cheek, "Just thinking about him," Wayne turns to you, voice breaking; you put his arms around him, and your head rests on his. Wayne became angrier when Quinn showed him the photos of what Richie's ex-girlfriend did to him; Wayne would have moments here and there when Wayne threw all his stuff off his desk; the loud noise and shatter of picture frames scared you while grading some essays. He felt bad for disturbing you and immediately apologized; your family is falling apart. Quinn stayed in her room all day, usually having small talk every day about a boy she likes; you always supported her, of course, but now she's being distant; Wayne is not talking to you now, and you're wondering why but you can't place your finger on what caused it. The lashings you received from your baby Ethan didn't help either; your family was slowly falling apart, Quinn distances herself, Ethan lashes out, and your husband does nothing but track the Carpenters in their study room. You guys used to spend dinner together as a family, but now you have all gone your separate ways.

Standing in the kitchen alone, missing Quinn's chatter as you made dinner. You were cutting carrots while spacing out, thinking of what your family used to be; you and Wayne always loved up on each other, but now you barely do it; you gripped the knife harder and clenched your teeth together and chopped the carrots harder, more violent. They ruined everything you built with Wayne, your family, your marriage, and the love you two had for each other. So, you agreed when he asked you if you would help him to kill the Carpenters; morally, it isn't right, but you couldn't help but resist the offer, 

You had changed your last name to Bailey; Wayne and Quinn did the same thing, so you might as well too. Ethan changed his last name, so it wasn't obvious; from the outside, it looks like Quinn has no siblings, is single, and has two loving dads. No one could suspect her. And as a college professor at Blackmore University, it most likely knocked you off the list. You felt terrible when Laura got killed, she was lovely, friendly, and brilliant, but her death was necessary; you knew Jason would kill her to satisfy his bloodlust, only to be killed by Wayne 30 minutes later. But, with Laura out of the way, you quickly wiggled your way into being the new Film Studies Teacher.

Ms. Kayoko didn't deserve to go out the way she did; she was just collateral damage; she was in the way. You had to be upset over Quinn's 'death,' grieving parents can take you far if you do it correctly. Wailing into Wayne's shoulder as they take her body away, Wayne had to take you to the car before he could talk to Sam about taking down Ghostface. Of course, you know she isn't dead, but you had to make it realistic; the window rolled down so Sam could feel guilty about accidentally killing somebody's daughter. Wayne turns around after talking to the group and walks and leans into the car through the window, "I'm gonna take you home; you need some rest to get your mind off of this." Wayne says softly to you, and all you can do is nod.

"Did you kill Quinn? Did you kill our daughter?" Wayne yells at Kirby while you hide behind your husband, often peaking out before hiding again. Kirby looks shocked, stumbling back a bit. "What? God no? Don't listen to them; they're probably both the killer," she said, pointing her gun at you and Wayne. "BEHIND YOU!" you hear her shriek before Wayne gives you his gun; her body falls, making a thump after you shoot her in the chest. 

"Good work, both of you," you say as you hold Wayne's hand tightly. "You guys..?" says Sam as she pulls Tara away, "Eh… well, of course, us. Frankly, I expected more from both of you after what you two did to us," said Wayne. "What do you mean us?" Tara says as she stumbles back, trying to gain as much distance as possible. Ethan took off his mask and taunted the two girls before them, smirking, "Mindy was right; it was easy to juke the roommate lottery." you pat him on the back, turn to him, and smile, "Hey, roomies. I didn't see that one coming, did ya? Quinn says as she removes her mask, "Yea… because you died." Tara responded, "Kinda didn't, though it was a good way to get off the suspect list." Quinn says as she plays with her knife.

"Real great parenting job, by the way," Tara says coldly. "SHUT YOUR WHORE FUCKING MOUTH!" Quinn screams as she shoves the sisters into a glass case; you corner them holding Wayne's gun. "You won't get away with this." Sam says bluntly, "Oh course we will. Let them TRY to track down the possible killers of Blackmore College; the Bailey's DON'T exist." you give the girls a sadistic smile as they shout at them, "Any comments? Questions? Concerns? Oh well, Who gives a flying FUCK anyways!" Quinn corners the two girls as she watches his father walk over to Sam, "Do you know how it feels to lose a child? A child that you taught loved him, to guide him." you start to break down, "Yeah, your son. He was a man-baby who made his girlfriend make all the killing. He was a limp dick little fuck, who cried before I slit his throat." Sam says, mocking Wayne and his husband. "SHUT THE FUCK UP!" Quinn shouts, but she is hit with a brick by Tara, spitting out a few teeth. At the same time, Wayne gets shot at by Kirby, and Sam kicks you in the chest, sending you flying into a glass container holding Jennifer Jolie's autograph, who somehow rose back from the dead before getting tackled by Ethan.

Quinn is killed before recovering from the blow she received from the brick; you corner Sam as she's trying to keep Tara from falling on top of Ethan, who's getting a little knife happy, jumping and swinging it. Tara drops down, stabbing your baby in the mouth and yanking it out, giggling. "Guess your down, another kid," Sam says as she smirks, her hair covering her face in chunks; you look at Sam, who makes a come get me signal and raises the knife; Wayne gives you and screams at her. You're stopped when Sam shoots you in the head; you let out a squeak before falling to the ground, killing him in front of his husband. "You always have to shoot them in the head," Sam tells Wayne as she steps over your body.

[caperingcryptid]

You can do this, thought Rosalind. If Peregrine of all people could get a smoking swan wife, then you absolutely can, too. You just have to keep an eye out for a...pretty looking...swan, and...

She groaned aloud to herself, which evolved into a colorful swear as she ripped her cloak free of a tangle of dead brush. She didn't know what she was doing out here. This whole adventure was stupid, and desperate, and stupid a second time, and there was no guarantee that it'd work out the way she wanted it to anyway.

She'd spent the last two hours of the morning trudging through cold, ankle-high mud, getting her cloak and her dress caught in various thorns and brambles, all to hunt for swans without even really knowing if they nested around here to begin with. She was a wizard, for god's sake. Not a bird...expert...person.

The thing about loneliness, though, was that it could make people do a lot of really stupid things. In Rosalind's case, it was hunting for a swan that might be interested in becoming an ex-swan, and then later, if they were up to it, an ex-swan girlfriend.

It was stupid. And crazy. And she felt maddeningly embarrassed for even considering doing it. However, it wasn't as if she had many options out in the marshes. The nearest town was miles away, and though she kept in touch with some of her old classmates from the academy, none of them had ever really been her type. Plus, lately, it felt like more and more of them were getting into relationships and getting married, which was an even more glaring reminder of just how hopelessly single she was.

She was surprised when Peregrine wound up being among the ones tying the knot. He used to be one of her most frequent visitors, in part because, like her, he didn't really have anyone around his home that he could really hang out with. He was a strange guy, prone to long, rambling tangents and excitable shouting, and proposed (not asked to court, but outright proposed) to anyone he was on remotely friendly terms with.

He was a good guy, but just...eccentric. Rosalind had started to worry a little about him when he didn't show up for a while, but one day he was at her doorstep, happily chattering away about a wife completely out of the blue. In fact, he'd spent the whole visit talking about how great this "Callista" was, and how strong and beautiful and incredible she was, and how she wanted to become a great monster slayer and how proud he was of her.

She was skeptical at first, but then Peregrine showed her a picture.

He was right. His wife was beautiful. And, by how shredded her arms were, strong, too.

Rosalind had to know: how in the hell did he manage to snag someone like that?

Peregrine told her. Then, after a little bit of prying and "please"s, he offered to teach her the spell that'd let him pull a full Swan Maiden.

"They'll be able to turn back if they'd like, of course," he had said. "But that also means you won't be able to change them back to one thing or the other, either. Be careful not to pick a swan that looks like they might be a serial killer, though- er- I'm not sure how you'd be able to tell that, actually. Never mind." He waved a hand, as if waving the very suggestion away and out the window.

So now, Rosalind was off looking for a swan. A "hopefully not a serial killer" swan.

She was starting to loose hope that there were any living nearby when she spotted it: a big white bird with a long neck. A swan! Probably. She wasn't sure, but everyone had described swans to her as being big, white, and with long necks, so she was fairly confident that this was what she was looking for.

Sure, it didn't look as...elegant as she thought it would. And sure, it wasn't fully white, but nobody was perfect, she guessed. Even swans. Swallowing her nerves, Rosalind whipped out the copy of the spell from her pocket, clumsily unfolding it and making eye contact with the swan.

"Hey!" She called out, and immediately regretted it. She didn't want to scare off the first swan she'd seen, after all. Much to her relief, though it seemed pretty annoyed about the sound, it didn't look scared. A good sign, probably.

Rosalind cleared her throat, then started again. "Hey, you! I'm kind of looking for a..." Girlfriend? Wife? She decided to play it safe. "...friend, but there's not many other people around. How would you feel about giving being human a try?"

Was the swan intrigued? Annoyed? She couldn't tell. Birds didn't exactly have the proper facial muscles to communicate emotion. This was awful.

"Well," she said, "I'm just going to...cast the spell now, so, uh, you know. Up to you if you want to roll with it or not."

Then, she did. Rosalind had to admit that her spellcasting was a little rusty. Her preferred method of magic was potions and alchemy, and something as hefty as a shapechanging spell made her concerned about whether she'd actually be able to pull it off.

Her eyes cast a peculiar green glow on the paper in her hands. After a moment of uncertainty that seemed, to her, to drag off into hours, the swan started to glow, too.

Okay. That was good. Good progress.

The light brightened, then continued to brighten until Rosalind had to shield her face. When it ebbed enough for her to drop her hand, what she saw caused her mouth to drop along with it.

There was a woman there. A beautiful woman. A muscular woman. Exactly as Rosalind had been hoping for. A cloak of pale feathers was wrapped around her shoulders, and her eyes were bright and wickedly sharp. Rosalind was a little surprised by her hair, though. Instead of being a pure snow white like that of Peregrine's wife, hers was shot through with streaks of black.

"Um," said Rosalind. She licked her lips. "Hi?"

"Hey," said the swan. She dragged the word out, stretching it through her newfound teeth like taffy. She glanced Rosalind over for a moment, then seemed to lose interest as she walked over to a nearby tree. She grabbed a branch with one arm, and, with one quick jerk, snapped it off into her hands.

This felt...odd. According to Peregrine, Callista had gone right for him after turning human. But this woman looked like she was on a mission.

"I was hoping that-"

"Shut up." The woman grinned at Rosalind. "Just shut up, will you? I'm thankful you did this for me, but that's why I'm not busting your kneecaps right now. Might change my mind if you start yammering."

Rosalind gaped, but for an entirely different reason this time around. The woman ignored her, looking over her branch and giving it a few practice swings in the air.

"You're...not what I expected," she said.

"That's your problem, not mine." The woman shrugged. She gave one last, vicious swing, then tucked the branch under her arm. "Anyhow. Fun as this has been and all, I've got a score to settle with some humans living a ways away. Were getting too comfy stepping on my territory. Think it's about time to remind 'em who's in charge, eh?"

Rosalind tried to speak again, but, again, the woman cut her off. "Look, I know you said you were trying to be buddies and all, but that's not what I'm about, lady."

There was another flash of that grin, as wide and gleaming as a wound, and Rosalind understood that she was not a swan.

She was something far worse.

"I'm not here to make friends," said the Goose Woman. "I am here to fuck things up."

Many young wizards have taken to transmuting swans into humans and marrying them. One day, you are lucky enough to find a swan in the wild, and without hesitating, you turn it into a beautiful lady. Unfortunately, that ‘swan’, was a goose. You have just given a goose a human form.

[saras-almanac]

crazy ex girlfriend finale thoughts

So I’ve been thinking about this since last week and with the finale this week, I just felt like writing out my thoughts on why I don’t really love the way the final few episodes have played out, culminating in this love quad-angle for Rebecca. As much as I’d love for her to end up with Nathaniel or Josh (Greg is just not a viable option and I’ll get to that), I hope that it ends with her choosing no one for now, but the future is open for possibilities.

(No spoilers below, just speculation and frustration at the situation.) 

Okay, so my main issue is that they’ve framed Greg as, not only a viable option, but like it feels like they’re trying to push him as the option for Rebecca. And like, I don’t like that and don’t really see it. Now part of this might be because the recast (Skylar) just isn’t good in this role. He can’t pull off the sarcastic asshole like Santino could because Santino brought a depth and slightly unwanted care and concern for the people around him, though he tried to hide it at times. Skylar’s Greg (and it might be a writing thing) just always feels a bit smarmy and just a dick.

That aside, Rebecca and Greg sort of only worked years ago because they weren’t really invested in each other at the same time. Not only that, Greg never really liked the parts of Rebecca that are sort of fundamentally her. And yes, she was slightly manic and obsessive at the time because of her mental health, but I still never really got the feeling that they even really knew each other that well. That’s okay because they weren’t really supposed to be anything more. We wanted to root for Greg since Rebecca was, as she put it “the villain” in the story of Josh—at that time anyway. But then when she does actually choose Greg, he can’t quite let go of the fact that Rebecca had been into Josh—even though he knew that going into it. He literally says in the first episode that her not being available/into him is his type.

But they were cute while they lasted though they were rightly called a shit show.

Now, he’s back and it’s just highlighting to me how much they’re not meant to be together, but the show doesn’t seem to be commenting on that. Yes, Greg’s been away and off screen “changing” and “growing” but he hasn’t really. Yes, he’s overcome his alcohol addiction, which is nothing to scoff at, but he’s still the same grouchy and mostly mean person he was, just without the layers of actually caring about friends. He didn’t even try and talk to Josh, who was his so-called best friend, when he came back. And yes, we could argue that it would be awkward, but if Valencia can help plan Josh and Rebecca’s ill-fated wedding, Greg can get over himself to actually take the time to have an honest conversation with his friend to either have closure or move passed things. (And yes, I know that not everyone needs to have closure, but this instance it was needed.)

The show is basically just telling us how different Greg is but like… I don’t really see it, except for the negative. They chose to have Rebecca and Greg start again, which is fine, but it let Greg of the hook from having an honest discussion about his feelings and everything that went on in their past. It’s just hard for me to look past that because we saw Rebecca having to confront her past actions and the consequences of them, and we saw both Nathaniel and Josh doing the same thing. But Greg’s never had to and, for me, it makes it hard to root for him.

Which brings me to last week’s episode where they acted like Greg’s declaration pushed him way out ahead of the other guys but like… why? The other two have been open and honest about their feelings with Rebecca for a while—Nathaniel especially has been fluctuating between pining and trying to get over her for like a season now. I don’t feel like it’s fair that Greg’s giving an A+ for sort of doing the bare minimum? Also, he put zero effort into their date which brings me to main complaint about the Greg x Rebecca dynamic: he doesn’t give a shit about anything that she likes or thinks is important and that’s, not only his defining character trait, but he acts like it’s charming and should be celebrated. The other two guys took the time to create a night for Rebecca that was special because they knew what was important to her and what she cared about; Greg was just going with a hot air balloon—after originally not planning on doing anything—because why not? I mean, remember the Raging Waters incident? Being in a relationship should mean that you actually want to do stuff with your partner, especially when it’s something really important to them.

Greg doesn’t even seem to understand the importance Rebecca’s relationships and friendships are to her. He literally only makes an effort with Paula because Hector suggests that he should cause Paula might put in a good word for him. He’s literally only trying to get in Paula’s good graces to win at the end of this. Both Nathaniel and Josh sort of became friends or friends-adjacent to Rebecca’s crew because of circumstances, trying to become better or more mature people, or because they genuinely didn’t want to be on bad terms with them. Greg’s thoughts don’t add up here. (If there was another season, this might not be as big of a deal.)

I get that this is turning into a Greg hate-fest, but it’s my blog so whatever. (But I get if you don’t want to read this anymore. No hard feelings.)

I just feel like the show is telling us, practically screaming at us that Greg’s the choice for Rebecca but there’s no evidence to really back that up. We’ve seen Rebecca, Josh, and Nathaniel all grow and mature as people, facing their past mistakes, and also wanting to be better for each other and the people in their lives. Greg just doesn’t have that. They loved Rebecca through it all and are still now supporting her. And perhaps that’s not fair because Greg was away at business school, but I just don’t feel like he gets Rebecca at the end of the day. When they broke up a few episodes ago, it felt right and like they’d reached their natural conclusion of just two people being incompatible, and then this episode, they brought it right back and it just doesn’t make sense to me compared to Josh and Nathaniel.

Again, I’ll say that I’m hopeful that the show doesn’t necessarily end with a final, clear-cut decision because there’s bound to be some disappointment and I think it’d be more keeping with the vein of the show that it’s Rebecca’s story and sort of leaving her future open and hopeful would be amazing. (But like I also won’t be made if she ends up with Josh, Nathaniel, or a combination of them.)

[escargon]

I am so filled with hatred towards streaming services literally FUCK YOU PARAMOUNT. more like paramountain of SHIT

[astranva]

Harry’s reaction to how and bsgf!yn getting married is something I didn’t think I needed

He’d know about it through Anne and Gemma.

They’re having their tea and toast, sitting in Anne’s garden and chattering about family, friends, and work, but Harry feels that they’re hiding something because the two familial women keep glancing at each other and he’s no stranger to eye conversations.

“So,” he sucked in a breath, putting his teacup on the table, “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Anne casually asks, holding his own cup in both hands.

“You’ve been eyeing each other,” he smiles slightly, “What are you hiding?”

“You think the worst in us,” Gemma tries to divert by teasing him, rolling her eyes at her younger brother.

“No, no,” he laughs, “It’s because I know you two.”

They all chuckle and when it gets quiet, Harry raises an eyebrow, motioning with his hand for them to go on and tell him.

“Um,” Gemma looks at her mom, “How about later?”

“Is someone hurt?” Harry asks, smile falling and getting replaced by a serious, worried expression.

“No, nobody’s hurt, love, everyone’s well,” Anne answers, patting his knee.

“Then what’s wrong?”

Anne and Gemma glance at each other again before Anne gets up and walks inside, Harry looking at her.

“She’s getting something,” Gemma mutters before quietly sipping her tea, her nervousness being very clear to her brother.

“You’re worrying as shit,” he says, chuckling slightly.

“Look, you might not even take it badly,” she says, “We don’t know, it’s just—I don’t know, awkward? I don’t know.”

Anne returns, holding an opened envelope in her hands as she sits, looking at Harry with so much love and care, “However you decide to react, we’ll support you.”

“Mum,” Harry sternly says, “Just—What’s that?”

Quietly, she hands him the envelope, watching Harry open it and take out the card from inside.

SAVE THE DATE

Joe & Y/N are getting married and they want nothing more than to share their happiness with you!

5.September

The Wilderness Wenderton Lane, Wingham, Kent, UK.

Harry reads the card once, twice, thrice, and before anyone knows it, he’s read it about 10 times. His breath gets shallow, his heartbeat goes crazy, his nostrils flare, and he doesn’t know how he feels but he knows it’s too much for him to handle.

“We didn’t know how to tell you,” Gemma says quietly, giving her brother a sympathetic look.

“When did she get engaged?” He asks as quietly, eyes still set on the card.

“Two months ago,” his sister answers, “She didn’t—She didn’t want to post about it because she didn’t want to risk it getting leaked.”

“How did he—How did he propose?” He asks next, not being able to tear his eyes away from the damned card he wishes to turn into shreds.

At that, Anne and Gemma glance at one another again.

“He didn’t,” Gemma answers.

He’s confused enough to look at her with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding how his ex-girlfriend is getting married when there was no proposal.

“She did.”

His face drops, and as does his heart. His mouth feels dry, his lungs feel too big for his ribcage, and he feels like he’s drifting away from his body.

“She—Y/N—She proposed to him?”

Gemma nodded reluctantly before letting out a sigh, “We’re really sorry, H.”

He looks back at the card, and it’s only when he sniffles that he realizes that a tear has fallen, quickly wiping it away with a small chuckle, “Well fuck,” he says, “Feels pathetic, isn’t it? It’s been long enough anyway. It’s not like—Not like anything else was going to happen.”

“Don’t beat yourself up, baby,” Anne says, her own eyes tearful at her son.

Harry shakes his head, “I fucked up, I know,” he says, “I just—Fucking hell, I love her.”

“We know, baby,” Anne gets up, hugging his head to her body, stroking his hair with one hand while the other holds on to him, “We know.”

“Fucking pathetic,” he says, “Are you going?”

“We care about you. If it’s going to hurt you then no. I’m sure Y/N will understand.”

He shakes his head, pulling away from Anne to look up to her, “You’re—She considers you family,” he shakes his head, “You know how much you mean to her, it’ll break her heart,” he says, “And that was my job,” he lets a sarcastic, bitter, small chuckle, “You’re going.”

“Har-”

“She’s not just my ex-girlfriend,” he says, “You said it once,” he looks at Gemma, “And it’s right. Y/N’s not just my ex, she’s a close family friend and it’s—it’s, like, a must to attend her wedding.”

“What about you?”

“I think—I think I need to reschedule my therapy session for earlier than usual.”

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

chapter list ⚜️ next chapter

summary: “Don’t wait for me, okay?” After months of clinging to the hope that your ex-girlfriend would suddenly change her mind about the break up, you take it as a sign from the universe it really is time to move on when your sweetheart of a roommate confesses her long-held feelings for you. When Historia shortly returns from Berlin, however, it becomes quickly apparent that lingering feelings remain on both sides. But between your complicated relationship with Historia and your newly developing relationship with Mikasa, you aren’t sure which to embrace. Trying things over again or taking steps towards something new?

tags: fem!reader, pan!reader, modern!au, college!au, roommates, exes, armin being a scorpio, past!eremin, ereani, jearmin, chapter is mostly unbeta’d because i’m a lazy bitch, catch the tik tok reference

a/n: major dedication to @cafedanslanuit​ because we both laughed way too hard thinking about the tiktok scenario that i had to add it to a fic i wrote at least once. let me know what you guys think, tis my first time trying to write a love triangle ever.

| | CHAPTER 1 | |

In the lackluster chatter of Sina Cafe, the last possible question you wanted your friend to ask finally reared its ugly head. “Did you hear that Historia’s coming back?”

“Oh really? Cool. I didn’t hear about that.” You replied cheerily, well aware of Pieck’s sleepy steel blue eyes observing you carefully. That technically wasn’t a lie, you hadn’t verbally heard the news from anyone. It only was information you’d acquired by randomly stumbling upon your ex’s story when you refreshed instagram for the millionth time the other day. And like every other day you’d done ever since Historia left for Germany a few months ago for an internship at the Berlin branch of her family’s company.

The family that you weren’t even sure knew of your existence as Historia’s girlfriend. Ex-girlfriend, you quickly reminded yourself.

The family Historia hadn’t ever told you much about in the first place despite your many attempts to learn more about them.

Then a week before she left the country, your girlfriend of one year broke up with you. Things blew up from there, you grimaced internally at the memory of how things fell apart. You at least made up and kept in contact a bit after she left, but it didn’t take longer than a few weeks before Historia suggested that maybe you both stopped to make things easier.

I just need to figure myself out. Don’t wait for me, okay? I don’t know how things will be when I get back, so you shouldn’t wait for me. Love you, bye. That was the last text shared between you and things had been radio silent ever since.

“It’s crazy she’s been gone for three months, it’ll be weird seeing her again.” You hoped you smiled convincingly enough as you went on. “Did she tell you directly or post it on her Insta or…?”

Pieck gave you a look of exasperation, “I know you’ve been on her page basically everyday, you know.”

Of course you did. You sighed and saw your disgruntled expression reflecting in your unsatisfying cup of coffee. Not your preferable drink at this overpriced cafe but their tea all tasted like hot leaf juice. “I didn’t look at it for a couple of days before this, at least.” You offered weakly. It was only because you were busy with work but it still counted for something.

Pieck’s expression was a mixture of empathy and something else you couldn’t place. “You know it’s only gonna make it harder to move on from her.”

“I know.” It had taken the better part of a month for you to change your lock screen photo from a picture of you and Historia at the beach. Then you completely rendered that decision pointless when you promptly made it your homescreen photo instead. If Pieck knew about that, she was at least kind enough to not mention it.

“What’s the plan when she gets back?” Pieck asked you instead.

You shrugged, “I dunno. We stopped talking a couple weeks after she left.” You pursed your lips thoughtfully, remembering Historia’s last words again. Don’t wait for me. “She never really said we wouldn’t ever get back together once she got back…” you trailed off before adding truthfully, “but she never said we would either. She just said to move on.”

How one moved on from the one who was your perfect match in almost every way, you weren’t sure. It wasn’t like you thought that the two of you would ever get married one day; you definitely weren’t thinking that far into the future. But I dunno, I really thought we’d make it for the unforeseeable future. “It’s like, I want to move on but at the same time I don’t. And the dumb part is, I even tell myself it isn’t even like I need to just throw myself into any relationship but I could just date around at least but it’s weird.” Especially knowing Historia would be back any day now.

“You could always download Tinder again.” Pieck suggested, gesturing towards your phone. “Maybe just to see if getting back with Historia is something you actually want or if it’s the familiarity you’re missing…” Pieck trailed off for a moment. “At least try out her advice. We don’t know what Historia is thinking either, especially if you haven’t talked in a while.”

You made a face almost immediately. “And risk seeing semen retention guy who didn’t believe that the pandemic was a thing?”

“Bumble?”

“I don’t trust an app that got sponsored on Riverdale.”

“…. Her?”

“Everyone on that app is non-committal.”

Pieck gave you an annoyed look that would even put the ones from The Office to shame. “What?” You shrugged defensively.

“You’re being picky on purpose.”

“I’m not being picky.” You squeaked.

Pieck raised an eyebrow incredulously, “considering this was just about you going on a few dates with random people, it’s coming off as picky.”

You shrugged your shoulders again, ignoring the uncomfortable pangs in your stomach. “I just wanna meet someone in person if I start messing around with people again.” Blonde locks and bright blue eyes came to mind. You picked up your coffee for the first time in a while to prevent yourself from answering any comments Pieck could make.

The tension in the silence that followed between you was thick as you sipped your lukewarm drink. Pieck sighed, “so.” Her change in tone indicating a change in topics was relief-inducing. “How are things with the whole Armin, Eren, and Annie Thruple situation?”

You made a sound that was half way between a groan and choked laughter. “Don’t get me started, it’s still a mess.”

“Is Armin still pretending he doesn’t know who they are?”

You gave Pieck a look that screamed ‘you know damn well Armin’s scorpio ass is still doing exactly that.’ Pieck giggled into her coffee in response. “Mikasa’s still trying to be neutral about the whole thing because they’re all childhood friends, but I really don’t think that’s gonna last long.” I mean, Armin still doesn’t mind hanging out with us as long as we don’t mention them. “It was already bad enough Eren’s ass cheated on him, but he cheated on Armin with Annie of all people.”

The Thruple situation, as Pieck put it, was the latest drama causing a funky split in your group of mutual friends.

It all goes back to Christmas Eve last month when Armin called Mikasa asking if the two of you could help him move out because he and Eren broke up that day. Not only did they break up, but Eren told Armin that he was seeing someone else and when Eren left that morning to go see his mystery lover, Armin went through Eren’s MacBook and saw that the other person was Annie.

Annie Leonhart.

Armin’s ex from first year.

Armin wanted out immediately and needed help moving all his things. So of course you and Mikasa rented a moving van to give him some assistance. You just weren’t expecting, once you finally arrived, the next thing out of the blond man’s lips to be: “Take everything.”

You still remember the pause as you and Mikasa shared a look of confusion. “What do you mean ‘everything’?”

“I mean ‘everything’.” Armin seethed, bloodshot eyes bulging as he frantically continued packing what you were sure was half of a drawer of clothes Armin had bought Eren throughout the years. “He had nothing when we got together and moved in here, I’m leaving him with nothing.”

And everything you packed despite Mikasa’s initial weak protests that Armin could at least be reasonable about this.

You packed 90% of Eren’s clothes.

The MacBook.

The PS4.

The TV.

The dishes Armin inherited from his late grandfather.

Your body racked painfully as you tried and failed to hold back to the laughter at your recollection of the day. “I still can’t believe he even made us take the Christmas tree. The fucking tree, Pieck!” Armin literally made you tie the Christmas tree on top of the van, ornaments and all, before you drove out of the parking lot of what used to be Armin’s apartment complex.

Ornaments fell and broke on the street as you drove by like you were some modern adaptation of the Grinch. It took only an hour before Eren called Armin furiously and a heated shouting match broke out between them as Armin paced in yours and Mikasa’s apartment. And in your apartment Armin stayed for a week before he moved in with Jean who was looking for a new roommate.

Needless to say, Mikasa told you things were very awkward at the Jaeger Family Christmas Party as Carla and Grisha awkwardly asked who Annie was and what happened with Armin. Then that awkwardness flowed right into your friend group and everyone was picking sides.

Team Eren or Team Armin or Team I’m Staying the Hell Out of it. You were on Team Three with Mikasa on this one. Scratch that, Mikasa was on a completely separate fourth team of trying to get Eren and Armin to reconcile.

You breathed after the last of your laughter escaped you. “It’s honestly kind of adorable how hard she’s trying to get Armin to at least give Eren’s laptop back.” For now, though, Eren was stuck using his older half-brother’s old one. “I keep telling her to let Eren and Armin be but you know how she is. Stubborn as hell.”

Pieck smiled good-naturedly, “Even if they’re fighting right now, Armin and Eren have known each other for years. They’ll come around on their own time.”

Hopefully.

You checked the time on your phone and made an ‘oop’ of surprise. “Gotta get goin’, Mikasa’s clocking out soon.” When your roommate left earlier that morning for her shift at a popular import store, Reeves’ Imports, she’d sounded dead tired. Shortly after Mikasa had gone, you made quick work of asking Pieck if you could meet up at a location closer to Mikasa’s job instead. “The assholes should be easing up on her shifts now that the holidays have passed but she’s still basically going in every day she doesn’t have class.”

Even the basic Walmart you worked at was trying to respect your availability now that the holidays were over and classes would be starting again.

“Has she talked to human resources about her availability yet?” Pieck questioned with a curious look.

You nodded but the frown remained on your face. “She said they want to keep this up basically until the first week of class, so she wants to tough it out.” How Mikasa was so stubborn when it came to the well-being of other people but was fine tolerating shitty working conditions was a mystery to even Eren, her foster brother. It was almost like Mikasa was allergic to receiving any extra help from the Jaegers now that she was legally able to take care of herself.

She even got a scholarship to your school despite the fact Eren’s parents said they would have no problem paying for her tuition and other fees. Once the two of you decided to move out of the school dormitory in favor of getting a cheaper off-campus apartment, it didn’t take Mikasa long to find a job either. All this while maintaining her high grades. Whenever you remembered this information, it really was a wonder Mikasa hadn’t collapsed from fatigue yet.

“I’ll talk to her about it again. They think because she’s the best employee they can milk her dry if she’s on vacation.” You sighed, suddenly feeling mentally exhausted.

Pieck smiled reassuringly. “I’m pretty sure if you asked, Mikasa might listen to you.” You snorted in disbelief causing your friend to chuckle. “Stubborn as she can be, Mikasa really does value your opinion so I think she’d listen to you. You’re good for each other. She keeps you from being a complete mess, you keep her from completely working herself to death. Match made in heaven.”

Your parents were certainly impressed the first time you visited in a while that you washed the dishes completely unprompted. It’s amazing what happens to a person when you live with Mikasa Ackerman. You scooted your coffee to the side. “Tell ‘em to toss that for me, will you? I gotta get going.”

Pieck’s smile shifted into something more playful. “You don’t have to get the coffee if you hate it so much.”

“The tea’s even worse.” You clucked, digging through your wallet for your portion of the bill. “I’ll tell you more about the Thruple thing later.”

“Tell Mikasa I said ‘hi’.”

“I will if I remember.” You teased. With a wave of your hand, you made quick work of texting your roommate as you made your way to your car.

[‘Hey I’m coming to pick you up See you in a few uwu’]

It didn’t take long for you to spot your roommate in the parking Reeves’ Imports, long black hair pulled into a ponytail and darkening bags beginning to develop under her eyes. “You didn’t have to pick me up, I could’ve taken the bus or Uber.” Mikasa said the moment she opened the door.

“Oh I was already in the neighborhood.” You replied with ease. Even before you knew each other well when you first started rooming together, Mikasa always had that motherly air to her. When Mikasa’s eyes lingered on you with a look of suspicion, you snickered. “I was! Pieck and I met up at the Sina Cafe down the street from where you work.”

“You hate Sina.” Mikasa answered matter-of-factly, closing the door. “You complain whenever we see one.”

You opened your mouth to argue that point but you promptly closed it remembering the last of your exchange with Pieck. Maybe you did complain a fair bit about Sina even when an opportunity didn’t present itself. You snorted after a moment, “anyway, I really enjoyed the coffee I had last time so I decided to give them a fair shot.” You slowly managed to maneuver the car out of the parking lot.

A lull followed and you pointedly looked at Mikasa who was smiling appreciatively but tiredly. “Thanks for coming all this way.”

“Don’t mention it.” You grinned, tapping a melody of victory on the steering wheel.

With that, a comfortable silence fell over you as Mikasa looked out the window at the buildings and passersby. People like you who looked good even after working for eight hours are the worst. You thought jokingly, unable to hold back a smile yourself as you redirected your gaze to the road. Still it was no exaggeration that Mikasa was regarded as one of the prettiest people in your group of friends. When the two of you were both out and about, it wasn’t too rare that someone would approach to ask Mikasa for a bit of her time. In all your time knowing her though, you’d never seen her go on dates.

Maybe Mikasa was even more picky than you, if Pieck’s exasperation from earlier was anything to use as a basis. Or maybe she was just focusing on her studies. Or maybe she was aro ace and you were a dick in assuming anything concerning why Mikasa never went out with anyone.

We’ve been living together since first year and I don’t even know her sexuality! At the next red light, you glanced at Mikasa in a mini-panic only to see a pair of gray eyes were already directed at you.

“What?” You fumbled, hoping she didn’t somehow sense your internal dilemma.

“What?” Mikasa’s cheeks looked a tinge pink in the afternoon sun.

“Nothing, I was just thinking about how you never go on dates with anyone.” Surprise danced in gray eyes at your statement along with something else you couldn’t quite place. “You’re like, the best person I know and people are always hitting on you so it’s a surprise you haven’t even been on one.”

If there was any confusion about Mikasa’s face earlier, the red painting her face was certainly the cause of embarrassment this time. “It doesn’t happen that often.”

“Achoo!” You sneezed exaggeratedly. “Sorry. Allergic to bullshit.”

“It doesn’t!” Mikasa protested as you glanced at her briefly in disbelief. Mikasa began playing with the fraying thread of one piece of her uniform. “Well… not that much. I’m too busy to date.”

“Too busy or just not in the mood?” You treaded lightly on the prospective landmine to try and gauge her reaction. When Mikasa awkwardly shuffled, you decided to lay off. “We don’t have to talk about it, I just realized we don’t usually talk about relationships and stuff. I mean, unless we count. Well, you know.” The many times you rambled about Historia and the subsequent period of time when Mikasa was your pillar of support when you were absolutely wrecked after your breakup. “But you don’t have to, like, feel like you have to date anyone.”

Mikasa thankfully didn’t look upset. “It’s fine. I want to date, the opportunity just never presented itself.”

“Are you into someone right now?” When there was no immediate response, your eyes practically bulged out your sockets. “Really?! Who?! Do I know them?!”

“Eyes on the road.” Mikasa demanded, flustered with a sharp look as the light turned green.

“Mikasa. Into someone.” You murmured in awe, wondering who could have caught the beautiful woman’s attention. “I’ve entered a new reality.” You glanced at her as she stared pointedly out the window, embarrassed expression reflecting in the window.

It vaguely crossed your mind as a thought: Dating Mikasa, huh? Mikasa would be an amazing girlfriend. Awkward she could occasionally be, she was a very loving person even if she could sometimes be a bit smothery. But when it came to the times you were sick or didn’t feel like leaving the house because everyone seemed to be on eggshells around you after things with Historia, Mikasa was always the person right there that you could depend on.

It was ridiculous to think that when you’d first been delegated as roommates in the dorms, you were somewhat afraid of her. Intimidated by how quiet she was and her piercing looks. It only took a few weeks before Mikasa eventually asked if she was making you uncomfortable out of concern of how you treated her like she would bite your head off at any moment.

Now she was the person you were undoubtedly sure would be your ride and die until the end of time. Historia came to mind again and you forced the memories to the darkest crevices of your mind.

You almost felt a vague sense of envy. The ride back home was neither tense or uncomfortable, though some sort of feeling sat between you both. It persisted even at the grocery store where you picked up some ingredients to make a quick meal for the night.

Mikasa’s expression was contemplative as you entered your home. You gave her a warm look. “I think you should tell them. Only an idiot wouldn’t want to go out with you.”

“I-” Mikasa fumbled over her words at your suddenly statement. “She’s not really looking to date anyone right now, I don’t think.”

You set the bag of ingredients for the poor man’s attempt at pizza on the counter top. “You never know until you try though, right?” Mikasa made a doubtful sound as you continued on. “Just tell this girl how you feel and let the chips fall where they may. It isn’t gonna make the friendship awkward or anything. And if it’s just some girl from campus or something, either way it’s her loss.” You weren’t exaggerating when you said that.

Maybe things would be completely different if Mikasa had been your girlfriend from the beginning. Whether or not that was just genuine food for thought or you just being upset about your failed relationship, you weren’t sure.

“Whoever you’re into, they’ll be literally the one of the luckiest people in the planet. So shoot your shot. Rejection’s better than regret, alright?” You gestured your shoulder in the direction of the bathroom. “Go ahead and shower up, alright? I’ll finish take care of the pizza.”

Mikasa paused for a bit then nodded and you sighed quietly. It would definitely be a bit more lonely in the house if Mikasa actually started seeing someone. Maybe Pieck’s right and I should just download Tinder again. You glanced at your phone, considering it heavily. You definitely didn’t want to risk seeing semen retention guy again though.

“Hey.”

“Need something?” You looked to the hallway where your roommate stood, noting how rigidly she was standing. Please don’t ask me about Tinder, please don’t ask me about Tinder. Her fingers clenched tightly at her scarf she held carefully in her hands. “What is it?” Mikasa bit her lip for a moment before opening her mouth and closing it again. You set down the bowl you were holding. “Mikasa?

“Would you like to go somewhere sometime?” Mikasa finally managed to ground out after a few more seconds. You were about to tell her that was a no brainer when Mikasa continued on, a mixture of embarrassed yet hopeful. “On a date?”

It took a bit for your mind to process what you’d been asked as Mikasa stared back awkwardly waiting for your answer.

“She’s not really looking to date anyone right now, I don’t think.” Mikasa said.

“Me?” You asked dumbly. It wasn’t the first time you were certain you were dreaming or phasing into an alternate reality. There was definitely no chance in even the hottest depths of hell that Mikasa, of all people, would ask you out. “You were talking about me?”

Mikasa seemed to deflate at the query. “For a while now.” She replied quietly. “But you were dating Historia before.” Mikasa snapped into an expression more serious. “I’d never take advantage of the fact you’re broken up with Historia but- but you said that I should at least ask and see what would happen. It doesn’t have to be serious, just to try and see.”

Wow.

“At least try out her advice.“

“You’re good for each other.”

Almost without thinking, you blurted out: “Um then yeah. Let’s go on a date. The two of us.” You cringed inwardly at your phrasing but Mikasa didn’t seem to mind, not one bit, as she smiled the widest you’d seen in recent times since her hectic work schedule began. “You have to promise to get your hours shortened or have more days off though.”

There was a mixture of feelings running through you. Guilt, excitement, anxiety, a vague sensation of one part of you shaking you senseless demanding to know what you were thinking.

“I can do that.” Mikasa promised, cutting off your internal cacophony of emotions. She looked downright elated. “Um, I’ll go and get in the shower now. Thank you hearing me out.”

Your heart thrummed nervously as you smiled back. “Yeah, you’re welcome.” You wanted to kick yourself in the shin for your choice of words. “Wait, no- I mean thanks to you too. For telling me- well, not that it’s something- just go take your shower.” Yeah, this was actually happening.

Mikasa smiled wordlessly before turning around again, leaving with a much more relaxed stride. For the first time in a while, the thought of going on a date didn’t sound or feel completely repulsive. You still felt awkward, strangely guilty. Planning to go on a date when Historia was going to be back in the country at any moment felt wrong at some base level in you.

But maybe Pieck was right in that you should at least go on a few dates. At least with Mikasa you knew that it wouldn’t completely ruin everything between you if things went south.

In the corner of your eye, your phone lit up and you leaned over to see what your newest notification was.

hisu_reissxoxo has a new story.

With how quickly you unlocked your phone to see her newest update, you felt like you were a struggling addict.

Finally back home! It was nice, Germany! Historia’s caption read over a picture of the airport growing distant in the background. She even made an accompanying post, her most recent photo being her favorite place in Berlin.

‘It was fun, Germany. See you again some time.’ Was the caption inscribed. It only took seconds for likes to flood in with how many devout followers Historia had. It wasn’t like she’d noticed I liked this if I do it now when everyone else is doing it. Your grip on your phone tightened, fingers tingling as you deliberated your next move. With two quick taps, your heart clenched as the heart icon lit up and you set your phone away, face down.

You thought of Mikasa’s excited smile.

It was time to put this chapter of your life behind you, you decided as you continued moving about in the kitchen.

[brookecuzyes]

three years of you. — tear myself apart

Damiano David x GN!Musician!Reader

Main Masterlist — 3yrs Masterlist

Summary: it’s only been a couple of days, which were full of tears and regret. however, that regret wasn’t on their part until a simple comment was made. (Part 3 of a series)

Word Count: ≈3.4k

Warnings: cursing, alcohol intake, angst (Anyone drinking alcohol in this chapter is of the legal drinking age in the United States, which is 21.)

A/N: thank y’all for reading! this has already gained a lot of readers and so i am happy about that. love you guys sm 💕 songs included in this fic are not mine. any characters mentioned are not mine, and belong to their respected owners. and ofc, i don’t own the celebrities either. i do check comments/reblogs, so please be respectful!!

———————————————————————-

You’ve got this, you can do it.

You tried consoling yourself. Normally, he would be here to help calm you down— or at least call if he could physically be there. He’d be there if you were about to have a panic attack, he’d be there to make sure that you were OK.

But you aren’t.

An entire audience full of strangers who listened to the songs, who listened to your heartbreak. Now, they get to watch your heart break live.

He wouldn’t— no, couldn’t— be there to comfort you. He couldn’t be there to tell you that everything will be fine. He fucked up, he’s the one who messed up that relationship…

“…then why did you show up?”

——

Glasses clinked. Chatter was taking place all around. Honestly, it was a little overwhelming.

You sat down at the booth with the whole band. Saturday had rolled around, which you hadn’t noticed since you were lost in an almost depressive state where time was non-existent. However, the karaoke bar definitely woke you up.

“Alright, guys,” Luke, the lead guitarist, said, holding a couple of drinks in his hands. “Tonight is the night! The tradition kicks in once again, and Monday we start recording. Let’s celebrate and relax.” Julie, the lead singer and the girlfriend of Luke, followed behind him, setting more drinks down on the table. Flynn, the unofficial manager of the band, let out a loud, “woo!”, making everyone laugh. All of you grabbed a glass and clinked them together, all taking a sip at the same time. Your face crunched when you processed the drink.

“Jesus, Luke, what is this?” you questioned.

“Alcohol,” he said blatantly.

“Yeah, no shit,” you shot back, shaking off the effects.

“I just said that we’re relaxing— that’s exactly what alcohol does!”

“Or maybe you're just an alcoholic?” Alex joked, taking a sip of his drink.

“I don’t drink that much.” Luke defended.

“That’s what an alcoholic would say.” The whole band started laughing at the ongoing banter. It isn’t often when Alex made witty remarks like that, and everyone always enjoyed it when he did.

On another note, you felt as if you absolutely needed this drink. Given what’s been going on this last week, you felt like you deserved it. Though, you knew you’d regret this tomorrow. You knew Alex was keeping an eye out for you. The rest of the band didn’t know yet, they just knew that something happened, which is why you left Italy so early. They were all confused, but didn’t ask upon it when Alex glared daggers at them when they tried. So, thankfully, they did back off. But, it doesn’t mean that they weren’t concerned.

You had been talking, making it seem as if everything was fine, but Alex’s heart broke when he picked up on it. However, with the alcohol about to course through your veins, it would be harder from him to be able to pick up on whether you were drunk or going through it. Regardless, he was going to make sure that you were having fun and not thinking about your ex.

“Hey,” Flynn said, “why don’t we start the karaoke? I think we all have enough alcohol in our systems to do this.”

“I vote for Alex to go first!” You said, raising your hand. “Do Micheal Bublé.”

“Woah, hold up, I never even said-“

“It doesn’t matter. What I say goes. Now go.” He sighed, laughing as he stood up from the booth. He went over to the guy and told him what song he wanted to do. They got everything set up, and Alex got on stage.

“Let’s go, Alex!” You cheered on, making him smile and blush just a bit— though that wasn’t entirely visible from where you guys decided to sit.

The song started playing, and Alex started singing. It took you a few seconds to recognize the song but you figured it out.

“Oh, he’s singing Feeling Good. I love that song,” you whispered to Reginald, the bassist, who was sitting next to you. He looked to you over his shoulder, smiling. He hadn’t seen you so “out there” since you got back. It was nice to see you getting back to normal. Though, he didn’t actually know why you weren’t normal to begin with.

And I’m feeling… good.

You cheered Alex on again, dancing along to the beat with the whole band. Alex didn’t sing much, but when he did you cherished those moments. That’s why he songs Now or Never and Stand Tall on the band’s very first album are your favorite.

“God, I love his voice,” Reggie said, as if he read your mind.

“Yeah, and look at him,” you pointed out the way his body is moving with the music. The way he was just lost in a musical haze. It was enchanting. “That’s what his anxiety covers up.”

Alex soon finished, hopping off of the stage with an embarrassed smile on his face.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed, babe,” you said, noticing his expression. “That was the best performance tonight by far. Not even Julie could compare to how amazing that was.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” she said, drawing out the ‘thanks’ in a sarcastic way. You raised your glass to her.

“Anytime, Jules,” you replied, raising your eyebrow and taking a sip. She laughed, letting the comment you made slip— for now at least.

“Hey, I have an idea!” Flynn exclaimed. “How about we take a couple photos and post them to our accounts? Y’know, to celebrate this very special moment.” Everyone collectively agreed. Pictures were taken left and right— and others were taken throughout the night, too— and each person had a different photo that they were each going to post. You had decided that you were going to post yours now, not wanting to forget later on tonight or tomorrow.

You captioned it:

Just continuing a small tradition tonight with music and alcohol. maybe if he lets me, i’ll post Alex singing Feeling Good 😏🤍

It was perfect and you posted it, after letting everyone see it to make sure it was OK. Within minutes people already saw it and were liking and commenting. You made sure to turn your phone off before it started going crazy. Julie and Luke decided to go up and do a duet with each other. They choose Little Do You Know. Their voices were beautiful singing the song. They mashed just so perfectly. You recorded them, knowing that you would 100% show them this at their wedding. (They aren’t engaged, but it’s bound to happen sooner or later.)

You weren’t paying attention to the notifications spamming the top of your screen, though you did look back once to see if the camera was aligned with their bodies. That’s when you saw a specific notification. One thing that you absolutely forgot when you posted that photo was that Måneskin could still see your posts. The only reason you remembered was because Victoria responded to your post.

Ahhh you look amazing!!!😘

The second you saw it, you put your head in your hands, mentally slapping yourself. If Victoria saw it, then the rest of the band is going to see, meaning Damiano would see it. Fuck, you thought to yourself.

“Hey, Y/N, are you alright?” Alex asked, placing a hand on your arm. You looked up at him showing him the comment. “I don’t understand.”

“Victoria commented. Meaning Damiano’s probably gonna see it.”

“Not if he’s blocked.”

“I didn’t block him, we’re still mutuals.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know, Alex. Maybe I just haven’t gotten to it yet.” You realized the angered tone in your voice, not meaning to be rude to Alex. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.”

“No, it’s okay. Hey, maybe if he does end up seeing it, he’ll just be jealous. Damiano will see everything he’s missing out on.”

“What is Damiano missing out on?” Julie asked, sitting back down with Luke.

“Oh, it’s nothing-“ Alex started, but you cut him off.

“I left Italy because Damiano was talking to another girl. It caused too many problems, so I left.” Everyone went silent. Everyone’s eyes softened at you, unsure of what to say.

“Y/N…”

“It’s fine. I’m here now. It doesn’t matter.” Silence fell once again, especially on Alex’s behalf. He knew you weren’t fine, he knew it mattered— whether you said it or not. “Sorry if I kinda killed tonight’s vibe.”

“N-No, you’re fine,” Reggie said. “You did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah, you didn’t ruin anything. I am glad that you told us, though. We’ve been worried.” Luke said, putting his arms on the table and leaning forward just a bit. You felt your phone vibrate but didn’t think anything of it— probably just another person on Instagram.

“Sorry that I made you guys worry. I just wasn’t sure how to bring it up. It’s just been a hard couple of days. This shit isn’t easy,” you explained, mumbling the last part. Everyone stayed silent, none wanting to make something worse.

“Luke, why don’t you and the guys go grab some food?” Julie suggested, placing a hand on Luke’s back, turning her attention back to you.

“Oh, yeah. Guys, let’s go,” Luke said, getting the hint. The boys got up and left, each giving you a sympathetic look. The girls, on the other hand, all stayed behind.

“Alright, listen up,” Flynn started. “Tonight is not the night to mope around. You can do that tomorrow when you’re hungover.”

“Right now,” Julie jumped in, “you’re gonna forget about that asshole, get your ass out there, and sing your heart out, dammit!” Your eyes widened at the girls’ sternness. A smile started creeping from your lips, Julie and Flynn following behind you. Soon enough, the three of you started laughing your asses off.

“Ok, ok, I’m convinced. I’ll have fun tonight. Thanks,” you said, trying to shake off the laughter so you can speak. You grabbed your drink, taking a sip of it. It was the same drink Luke got you earlier. Damn it, Luke. You shook your head to shake off the kick the drink had. Flynn chuckled at your antics, taking a sip of her, not as strong, drink. The guys soon came back with some snack-type items in their hands.

“Are we all good now?” Alex asked, setting down the plate on the table and looking your way.

“Yep, we’re all good now,” Julie answered, taking a sip of her drink. You chuckle at her, reaching for some of the food on the table. “But, Y/N’s about to sing for us.”

“Woah, wait, now?”

“What did I say? You’re gonna sing your heart out.”

You groaned, slumping back in your set in a joking— yet, not entirely joking— way. “Julie, I didn’t realize that you meant right now.”

“Ok, so? Get up there, Y/N! C’mon it’ll be fun.” You contemplated. I should go, you thought, it could be fun.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you announced, getting up from your seat. Reggie and Flynn got up from theirs so you could get out. When you got up, you turned to Reginald.

“C’mon, you’re doing this with me,” you said, grabbing his arm and dragging him over to the guy supervising the karaoke.

“I didn’t really wanna sing right now. Nerves, y’know?” Reggie explained.

“So? Reggie, I get that nerves are real, but there’s no way in hell I’m doing this alone.” You opened up a book full of songs, and was going through the selection.

“Why couldn’t you just get someone else?”

“Because I think our voices clash very well together.” You turned your head to him and gave him a smile. He shyly smiled back. You looked back at the book and held it up to Reggie. “What about this one?” you asked, pointing to a song. Reggie read it and smiled.

“Yeah, let’s do it,” he said, grabbing the pen and marking off the song and writing your names. You stood back, waiting for him to finish. When he did, he turned around.

“Alright, I’ve got us down. Wanna head up?” He asked, holding his hand out with a playful smile.

“Let’s do it,” you said, grabbing a hold of his hand, him taking you up the stairs and into the stage.

When you walked up, you saw the screen in front of you turn on, switching to the lyrics of the song. The lights were bright, but it wasn’t anything you weren’t used to. You saw some people stare at you, but it was mainly the rest of the band. Reginald walked to the microphone set up on the far left, you took the other. The song started playing, immediately relaxing you. Maybe this isn’t as bad as I thought. The song you chose was a favorite of you and Reggie— Meet Me At Our Spot. Of course, the band loved it too, but they got bored with it after a while since you two were always blasting it wherever you went. You actually had some inspiration from this song and wrote a little tune, but you had no lyrics at the moment.

When I wake up

I cant even stay up

I slept through the day, fuck

I’m not getting younger

——

“Victoria, you don’t understand-“

“No, you don’t understand, Damiano!” Victoria raised her voice at him. They never argued. They’ve known each other since childhood and nothing had ever caused an issue, except for this.

“I did nothing wrong.”

“Really? ‘Cause it looks to me that you broke your lovers heart.”

“Y/N left me,” he said, trying to reason.

“They might have physically left, but, Damiano, you were gone a long time ago.” She started towards the front door of his house, grabbing her keys.

“Where are you going?” Damiano asked.

“Home. But, let me tell you something first, Dami.” She put her hand on the doorknob. “It doesn’t matter how you try to defend yourself, you fucked up. You broke Y/N’s heart. You were talking to someone else. The damage is done. If you’re gonna try and get them back, you’re gonna have to try really damn hard. You want to get Y/N back, right?”

Silence followed. Victoria gave him a second to compose himself, but ultimately feared the worst. “Dami…”

“I mean, yeah, but-“

“No buts. You shouldn’t be saying ‘but’, you have no reason to.” Damiano just looked at her. “Wow… unbelievable.” Victoria opened the door and walked out, slamming the door behind her. Damiano walked up to the door and locked it. He headed back to the living room and heard his phone ding. He picked it up and saw that you had posted a photo.

Just continuing a small tradition tonight with music and alcohol. maybe if he lets me, i’ll post Alex singing Feeling Good 😏🤍

He sighed. He unlocked his phone, and went to go see the photo you posted. You looked nice. Happy. What was the tradition again?

Right, karaoke. The weekend before the band records an album, everyone goes to a karaoke bar. He scrolled down a bit and saw a comment. He saw Victoria’s comment.

Ahhh you look amazing!!!😘

He figured that she saw the post before she pulled out of his driveway. He debated on what he should do.

Yeah, he fucked up. But, it really wasn’t that bad. It’s not like he cheated. It was just talking. He wanted to tell you that you look great, but wasn’t sure how you would feel about it. Like Y/N would care what I think, he thought to himself. You never broke up, though. Plus, he needs to know what’s going on, how you’re doing. He’s concerned. Couldn’t be the worst thing— it’s not like the internet knows yet.

Ok, I’ll just just comment.

——

Caught a vibe

Baby, are you coming for the ride

I just wanna look into your eyes

I just wanna stay for the night, night, night

You and Reginald were jamming out to the song, as per usual. Everyone was loving it, even the rest of the band. It was the most fun you’ve had in a hot second.

When we take a drive

Maybe we can take the 405

Hypnotized by the light

Man, this must be the life

As the song ended, everyone cheered you two on. You went over and hugged Reggie on his side, him giving a small hug back. You guys walked back to your booth, the whole band full of excitement. Alex got up from his seat and let the two of you in, you sitting in the corner of the booth.

“That was amazing!” Luke exclaimed.

“Thanks, we had fun,” Reggie said, practically reading your mind.

“Definitely.”

“Your voices go so well together,” Flynn remarked.

“That’s exactly what I said!” you said, hitting Reginald’s shoulder so he knows your point is proven.

“Ok, we don’t have to be violent about it,” he joked, smirking just a bit.

“Yeah, whatever. I’m gonna go to the restroom real quick. I’ll be back,” you said, waiting for Alex and Reggie to stand up so you can go. You grabbed your phone, stood up, and made your way to the restroom. When you got to the restroom, you went to one of the stalls but checked your phone before you did anything else. However, you almost immediately regretted it because you saw that Damiano had commented on your photo.

What the hell does he want?

You read what he had commented, and, honestly, you wanted to laugh.

You look great tonight, as you do every night, amore

You couldn’t believe it. Amore, really? you thought to yourself. You looked up from your phone, looking at the stall door. You contemplated what to do next:

For starters, keeping the comment wouldn’t be out of the norm for your followers. They knew about you and Damiano. However, if you deleted (which you really wanted to do), everyone would notice. People would speculate. Or, you could just go off on Damiano privately. That would be too harsh. But, this is your account— your decision. Do you want to have your cheater boyfriend compliment you the way he did?

You know what, do it later, you thought, turning off your phone and finally, actually, using the restroom.

Once you finished, you exited the stall and walked over to the sinks. You washed your hands, not able to get that damn comment off of your mind.

You walked out of the restroom and back over to the booth, but you didn’t sit down.

“Alex,” you said, standing next to him. “Can I talk to you?” He looked up at you, unsure of what you wanted to talk about, but got up anyway. You grabbed his hand and pulled him outside.

When you two got out there, you sat down on a bench, Alex following your move.

“Is everything alright?” You opened your phone and went to Instagram, showing Alex to comment Damiano left. “Oh.”

“Yeah. I just don’t know what to do, and it is tearing me apart. Do I delete it? Do I keep it? Do I argue with him?”

“Delete the comment, and, Y/N, please, block him on social media. You don’t have to block his number, but you should block him everywhere else.”

“Why not his number,” you asked.

“Because you need closure. At some point, you’re gonna want to text him or call him and try to get some understanding as to why he did what he did. You haven’t actually broken up yet. Maybe that’s how you finish off?”

After a moment of contemplation (again), you nodded your head slowly.

“Ok. Yeah, ok, I’ll do that.” You lowered your head and searched through your following to find Damiano’s account. You clicked the three dots at the top, and looked for the block button.

“You sure this is the right thing to do?”

“Yes. Want me to do it?”

“No, no, it’s fine. I can do it.”

You looked at the button for a second. You’ve never even thought of blocking him before. I’m your mind, he was the one. Now? Well, you’re blocking him because he cheated on you, so obviously your idea of him completely shifted.

I can do this.

Your hands started shaking slightly, your heart was beating like crazy.

I can do this.

Slowly, you moved your finger over the button.

Click it, it’ll be fine.

And, so, you did. You clicked the button.

You felt free.

———————————————————————-

Taglist for 3yrs — i’m so sorry if i couldn’t tag you!*

@mywritingonlyfans @nientedaridere @pingpongchamps @fairysums @kkjk @blackbluerose666 @thatmeganthing @teenyweenynightghost @ccweasley @lilchickie @katyldamusic @fanfictioncafe @tiaamberxx @butkutee @aboredassho @story-scribbler

*(for those who want to be tagged, please have stuff posted onto your blog and make sure that your blog isn’t censored <3)

[sunflovverharry]

Sweet Time

a/n: soo, I took the liberty of changing the pov in the song to be from harry’s perspective instead of the oc’s, but i’m quite happy with how it turned out. i recommend you listen to the song this fic is inspired by while reading as it might give some more depth to what’s going on inside harry’s head than what i already give throughout the story. Thank you for reading and please reblog if you enjoy it xx

This fic is a part of @harrystylescherry playlist fic challenge which i’m super excited to be part of! Remember to read the rest of the entries and show your support <3

Pairing: Harry x OC Delilah Warnings: Angst, fluff, language Word count: 4.7k

It seems bad luck runs through all of Harry’s relationships. The three he’s had that lasted long enough to be considered serious all ended because of the same reason - Harry’s fame. Mixing their jealousy of the women media connected him to; and anger that he couldn’t be with them every time something important happened made him exhausted. His girlfriend was supposed to support him in every way possible, just as he would support them and know that if he could spend more time with her, obviously he wouldn’t be flying to god knows where for who knows how long. It clearly wasn’t enough for his exes to know that if he could, he would, but his life isn’t run only by himself. He has managers and a record label who tells him what to do and when.

**

Lucie had been ringing his phone for the last hour without any answer and it surely must have pissed her off because the texts she sent after weren’t pleasing to say the least. Harry had been in the studio for a while and his phone had been silenced so he could solely focus while creativity was rolling through him. He had told his girlfriend that he would be unavailable for most of the week with writing and recording as much as possible, but he’d call or text whenever he was free. Thinking she had understood, he didn’t care to text her right before entering the studio to tell her she wouldn’t be able to get a hold of him for a while, but after seeing the texts he thought to himself he should’ve texted her.

“Why the fuck aren’t you answering??” “Harry you better answer your fucking phone this instance or we’re over!” “Seriously Harry what is more important than me, your girlfriend!!” “Are you with another woman???? ANSWER ME YOU FUCKING DICK”

No, it wasn’t the first time Harry had been subject to her angry texts, probably drunk off her ass and having no one else to be mad at. He knew he shouldn’t put up with the way she’s treating him, but when they’re together she acts completely different. She never raises her voice at him or asks who women he’s seen with are. They always enjoy their time together, cuddling on the sofa while watching a movie or going to her parents’ for a Sunday roast. Though she’d never be seen cleaning or cooking, telling Harry that it wasn’t her job to do so when he could have maids and chefs.

Even his mum had told him she wasn’t what he needed in a girlfriend. A snobby, gold digger who has jealousy and anger issues ultimately wasn’t someone he had time for. Those texts were what made him decide that he had to end the relationship now, before it’s too late.

A week later he made it home from Los Angeles and he wasn’t surprised to see Lucie running towards him after hearing the car doors slam outside. She always acted as if nothing happened while he was gone. He couldn’t believe he had wasted almost a year on this girl and before she could get any closer to him he told her they were done. Yes, it sucked to tell someone they weren’t wanted any longer, but it was the right decision in the end and his mum would surely be happy he got rid of her.

**

A year after breaking up with Lucie, his third girlfriend (who honestly might have been a little too into his fame and money than he realized at the time), he met Delilah. To be honest, Harry had told himself that he wanted to stay single and focus on himself and his upcoming album, but Delilah threw his plans out the window after only a month of dating - or what he called “just friends getting to know each other”. Delilah on the other hand called them dates and could only hope it would expand into something greater than that.

**

Harry had been sat in the restaurant they were meeting at for half an hour, hoping Delilah wouldn’t be much longer. He was grateful she had texted him to let him know she’d be running later than expected as the traffic was crazy and she had to stay at work an hour longer than anticipated. If she hadn’t let him know, he’s sure he would have cried from the embarrassment.

Not knowing how much longer she’d be, he called his mum. Her voice had always calmed him down and that’s exactly what he needed at this very moment - sitting alone in a restaurant at a table for two in a secluded corner waiting for what might be the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on.

“Hello my sweetness. How are you?” They got into talking about Harry’s surprise trip home for his sister's birthday in a couple of months. Anne and Harry were planning a surprise birthday party for her and it wasn’t something he’d ever want to miss. After minutes of talking about the surprise and anything else popping up into the conversation, Anne asked what he was doing. It wasn’t that he had hidden the fact that he had a new friend on purpose, but he supposes that he wanted to keep this one private - even from his mum who knows everything going on in his life.

“Just having dinner with a friend who’s running a tad late which is why I called you.” He wasn’t sure he was able to keep the excitement out of his answer. Though Delilah was only a friend and he certainly wasn’t looking for another relationship that would end up breaking, he already liked her more than he probably should.

“Oh, I see. A friend friend perhaps?” Anne snickered, knowing that if she pried long enough, he’d have no choice but to spill. This time it wouldn’t happen though as he saw Delilah walking towards the back of the restaurant and the table where he was seated waiting patiently for her.

“Sorry, mum, my guest has arrived. I’ll call another day, love you.” Harry didn’t hear the ‘love you’ his mum said back to him before pulling his phone from his ear and hanging up. Pocketing his phone while standing up, he smiled at Delilah who looked stressed but beautiful in her very classy outfit paired with some killer heels and Harry didn’t even want to think about how much they hurt her feet.

When they both finally sat down, the chatter never died down and the wine never stopped pouring.

**

It took a while before she earned Harry’s trust, but it was proof that he did trust her when he invited her over to his house for the first time after five months of dating. She had proved to Harry that she took his privacy seriously and she, too, wanted to keep whatever it was they had going on between only the two of them. Almost as if it was something sacred, and really it was.

Harry had been over for movie nights and dinners at Delilah’s plenty of times, even going as far as staying over a handful of times. She gave him complete reigns of what they did and never pressured him into going out in public and there wasn’t a suspicion (that Harry knew of at least) of why he didn’t want to go any further than light groping and making out before pulling away. When he wanted to talk to her, she would be there for him.

**

Delilah had her legs thrown over Harry’s thighs and his hands were lightly massaging her feet tired from a long day at work. They had ordered pizza from what Harry called ‘the best pizza place he’s ever been to’ and when Delilah took her first bite she couldn’t help but moan at the explosion of taste in her mouth. It really was the best pizza. This was only her second time hanging out at Harry’s house, only wanting to come when he invited her as to not invite herself into his most private space.

Harry had shot her a message earlier in the day asking her if she’d like to come over after work seeing as it was a Friday and therefore the night didn’t have to end as early as a weeknight. Of course, he didn’t tell her that, but he wanted to have the option open for her to stay the night if he felt comfortable enough by the end of the night to ask her.

Delilah could Harry’s head was spinning in all directions while mindlessly continuing to rub her feet, up to her legs. She could positively say none of her exes had ever given her a foot massage, making Harry look even better in her books (though he didn’t need it, he was already better than any of her expectations and she could only hope she reached his expectations).

“What’s wrong, sweets?” She had taken up the nickname for him after hearing his mum call him something similar, but not wanting to steal her nickname for him. Harry smiled every time she called him that, loving the feeling he got in his stomach from how it sounds coming off of her tongue.

“Just thinking and going in circles round my head.” It didn’t give away anything other than he was stressing or worried about something Delilah had no idea what it could be. Sitting up, she planted a kiss to his cheek before smashing their cheeks together in a tight hug - all she wanted was to be there for him if he wanted to talk, or just sit in silence together. Hopefully he’d have the guts to throw her out if he wanted to be alone.

Harry giggled when she didn’t let up her strong hold around his neck, not nearly enough to choke him, but enough to hold him in place. He turned his head to look at her quickly before melting their lips together in what can only be described as an expressive and intense kiss. Delilah didn’t know what he was trying to express, but it must be something good with the way he’s pulling her onto his lap, their lips never separating more than a second.

“Would you want to stay the night?” He had gone through every pro and con in his head, but Delilah showing him she was there for him without trying to pull anything out of him made up his mind. There was no doubt he wanted her to stay at his place for the night and he’d drive a hard bargain for her to even think about saying no.

There was no need for a bargain though, Delilah nodding her head quickly before pulling him in for another kiss, or two, or three. She wasn’t worried about not having pajamas here or her toothbrush or her trusty face cleanser. None of it mattered even slightly, when all she could think about was how much trust Harry was putting in her. For a minute there she was the happiest she’s ever been and as Harry’s nerves subsided he was the happiest he’s ever been.

The couple went for a short drive to Delilah’s apartment to pick up some essentials, as well as the supermarket to buy ingredients for breakfast in the morning (and new bathroom essentials to keep in his bathroom for times when she would stay the night). By the time they got back to Harry’s, they were ready to hop into bed - a bed she had yet to try out, but was sure would exceed all her expectations.

Harry was tucked into his bed on the side he regularly slept on when Delilah walked out of his ensuite, ready to lay down right next to him. Knowing from the past times they’ve shared her bed that he’s a big cuddler, she was excited to see how much more comfortable and cuddly he’d be in his own bed.

**

Though Harry felt safe and trusted Delilah enough to share his house with her and have her sleep over, something was still holding him back from asking the big question that they both probably knew should have come earlier. Even his mum was unsure why he hadn’t asked her yet or let her meet the woman he’s spending all his time with.

By the seventh month of dating, she was starting to question herself. If she wasn’t doing anything wrong and he still trusted her, why would he not have asked her to be his girlfriend already? She thought it was pretty clear to everyone that knew about their ‘relationship’ that she wouldn’t say no.

**

“So, Delilah, how’s it going with Harry?” She was out for drinks with her best girlfriends and the only ones she had told about Harry - except her parents, of course. It was an unwritten rule to not talk about boy trouble or anything of the sort on their nights out, but it was clear Delilah’s head wasn’t in it. Something had to be up with her and the only thing her friends could think of, was Harry.

“We’re good. He’s feeling safe and comfortable with me. We’re going to his mum’s next weekend to relax before he leaves.” Her voice was definite and if her friends didn’t know her they wouldn’t think anything was wrong with their relationship. Delilah spends a lot of time with him and the past month she’s slept over most nights, even on the days she’s had work the next. Harry had cleared out more space for her in his bathroom vanity and closet - which he knew was way larger than what he really needed, but had still managed to fill with no problem.

Delilah sipped on her drink as she went back into her head, thinking about how tonight was just like any other day. Harry will pick her up exactly ten minutes after she calls to tell him the night is over, he’ll hold her thigh on the drive back to his home while she talks his head off about nothing. When they arrive home, they’ll do exactly what they always do when she stays the night - wash their faces together, brush their teeth and while Delilah finds her outfit the next day Harry goes to get a water bottle he always keeps in the fridge that they will share throughout the night. It’s become routine and the domesticity around it makes Delilah’s heart flutter.

“Have you had the talk about going official? Becoming boyfriend and girlfriend? I thought maybe he’d asked by now with how you’ve been. I mean, you basically live there by now.” Lyla tried to pull out the thoughts swirling around Delilah’s head without being too invasive if she really didn’t want to talk about it.

“I don’t know honestly, I think we’re doing great and I’m so happy with him. I don’t want to force him if he isn’t ready, but it’s been seven months and he hasn’t said anything about making it official no matter how much it feels like it already is. I can’t imagine he doesn’t feel the same. It’s pretty obvious what we’re doing is exactly how it’s like being in a serious relationship.” She braced herself and let it all out - all her thoughts about not making it official yet or how domestic their relationship has become over the past couple months. She would be indescribably sad if Harry wasn’t to actually feel like she thinks he does and that might be the reason why she hasn’t had the guts to be the one to initiate the conversation.

**

The next couple of weeks went by smoothly for the pair. With Harry being gone for most of it, she had a lot of time for herself to go through her feelings and get the chance to figure things out. She tried to hide her - what felt like crushed - feelings from Harry, not wanting him to pry for her to open up and ruin everything. She agreed with herself that if they had to do things slower than normal because Harry needed the time to get there, then that would be okay as long as he actually would get there one day. There was also no way she could leave the man behind just because he’s been hurt in the past and is now - overly - precautious. The very least she could do to save what they had was to try and help him realize that she wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t want anything but the best for him, and she wanted to be the best.

Delilah came home from work to Harry cooking a storm in the kitchen late one afternoon after he came back to London. It wasn’t that she didn’t know he could cook that surprised her, no, he was always making them dinner - with or without Delilah’s help. What did surprise her though, was the romantic set up in the living room that she had never seen before.

**

Harry was in deep concentration standing over the stovetop where he had vegetables boiling, along with the chicken he’s grilling. It’s getting close to done when he heard his front door open and he didn’t bother turning around, knowing it could only be one person - Delilah. The girl he’d been obsessed with for the past eight months. But, fuck, he was terrified of getting infatuated with someone again, only having been burnt by it in the end previously.

There was something so raw and new with this one, though, such a breath of fresh air for him. It was like he was supposed to go through those bad relationships to end up here - with the perfect fit for him. She never took it to heart when he couldn’t be there for some things, having to leave the country for weeks at a time, but encouraged him to go, have fun, text me when you land. The first time she told him so, he was speechless and couldn’t move his feet for seconds before he got back to earth.

The first time he slept over at her place was pivotal for him and him realizing where this could go, and that was over six months ago. He had told himself to take it slow, enjoy the moment and not do anything because he felt it was the right time. The right time was usually never right in the end because he still wasn’t ready. If he were to lead a relationship with Delilah it would have to be on his terms, mostly because he didn’t want this one to go wrong. This potential relationship with the girl of his dreams was something he needed to get right. If that meant waiting a little longer to make it official, move in together or start a family - now he’s really thinking far into the future - then he would do so because he knew in the end it would save them both from heartbreak.

Ever since him and Delilah got closer his mum saw a change in him, though the insecurities and unease he had from former relationships were still haunting him. The first time he voluntarily spoke to his mum about her, she told him to follow his heart and only time could tell if she was the one for him. The last time he spoke about her, Anne told him he had to do something, because even though they act as if they’re together, she doesn’t have the security blanket of love that she needs to stay with him. That really set fire to his plans - knowing he had to do something about it before it was too late.

Therefore he ended up deciding on making her dinner and putting in effort to show his romantic side that she hasn’t seen a lot of was the way to go. He wanted to go all out for her to show that this is what he wants and he feels safe and secure enough in himself and them as a couple to make it official. It’s what he craved.

He heard Delilah’s feet softly moving on the hardwood flooring to get from the entry to the kitchen. He also knew she had smelt his cooking and seen the rose petals, candles and blankets scattered all over the living room. There was no doubt she was suspicious over the reason for his doings, but at the same time she held back and waited for Harry to make the first step.

“Hi lovey, dinner is almost ready. You want to change into something comfy before we eat?” Harry only turned around for a single second to try and see if her face could tell him anything about how she’s feeling.

“Smells delicious. Be back in a tick, sweets.” The grin creeping out from his lips couldn’t be stopped after hearing her call him his favorite nickname. He hopes it means she’s happy with him. While Delilah changes upstairs in their - pretty much - shared closet, Harry dishes up the plates and finds her favorite red wine to drink with the meal. Right as he finishes putting everything in its place, she descends from the staircase and Harry finally takes a moment to admire her. He finds her beautiful in a pair of leggings and one of Harry’s hoodies she decided to steal. Before getting completely lost in her beauty, he coughs and reaches his hand out to tell her to come sit with him on the floor in front of the sofa.

Harry wanted to wait until they had finished their meal to bring their relationship up, hoping to enjoy their little impromptu - on her end at least - date night before getting serious. Delilah was smiling and wouldn’t stop gushing over his surprise making him feel better about what was to come. He was sure she would say yes, but the little doubt he had left in him wouldn’t go away until he got his answer and knew for sure.

Later in the evening, they were still sitting on the floor, talking about their days and upcoming events. Harry’s hand was running along her legs thrown over his lap and hers were holding the wine glass recently filled up again when he felt the need to get everything off his chest.

“Darling. I know I’ve taken things slow with you, slower than we both probably wanted, but I hope you know I haven’t been stringing you along for nothing. Tonight I wanted to show you how much you mean to me and how much I’ve grown to care for you. I hope you knew that anyway.” Harry was smiling at her while coming clean with all his thoughts and feelings.

“I’ve loved the naturalness of how we’ve moved through our friendship. Nothing with you has ever felt forced or uncomfortable, maybe because you let me take my time and have control over what I can. I can’t tell you how much that has meant to me and I want you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed. The domesticity around us feels so easy and I hope that doesn’t ever change. Because we’ve been acting as if we’re together, it kind of slipped my mind that we’re not, but tonight I wanted to ask you, finally, if you want to make it official and be mine?”

**

After making it official, there was nothing holding them back from each other. They were together as much as their lives allowed them to be and Delilah even surprised Harry by going to his first show on tour in Los Angeles. He thought she didn’t get the time off of work to be able to come, but Delilah knew he wouldn’t be upset with her lying about it when in the end it would make him happy. They had been official for six months at the time and were practically inseparable. Neither of them knew how they would do with the distance over a longer period of time compared to the two to three weeks he was usually gone for before coming home. Sure in themselves and what they had, they knew they’d get through this, too.

**

Delilah hadn’t gotten the chance to surprise Harry much over the past year since she got to know Harry, unlike how he had managed to surprise her quite a few times. They were often small, but thought out and always showed her how much he appreciated her. For the longest time; she had been thinking about how she could surprise him without him finding out - and her chance came landing right into her hands with him going on tour. She called Jeff the minute she thought of it, the day after Harry asking her if she would be able to come out for a couple of days during his tour, preferably the first show.

Jeff and Delilah had managed to keep the secret from Harry for over a month with Jeff buying her a plane ticket for the day his first show was. She got picked up by a driver at the airport and drove straight to the Forum to catch him on stage singing his heart out. Though she was only able to see him for the last fifteen minutes of his first show, it was exactly what she imagined - Harry dancing around the stage, singing to a crowd so loud she thought her ears might lose hearing.

Right before Harry was set to come off stage, Delilah was guided through the backstage area to Harry’s dressing room where he would finally see her and hopefully get surprised. She was sitting on the black leather sofa with her hands fiddling in her lap as she waited the short while. It was clear he was getting closer as the loud screams got quieter. Excitement, nervousness, happiness, restlessness. They were all feelings running through her, the anxiety easier to feel when she finally heard his laughter moving through the hallways and she knew he was only meters away from her.

Only seconds later she saw the door handle jiggle before the door opened just a crack as he was still standing in the hallway talking to someone Delilah couldn’t quite distinguish. Finally, he pushed the door further open and he was turning toward her, no idea someone would be waiting for him, nevertheless, his girlfriend he thought was stuck at work back in London. His eyes landed on her and for a while, he just stood in front of her still in the doorway thinking he was seeing things. When he understood that she was actually sitting in front of him his eyes couldn’t help but glaze over while shutting the door - he wanted this moment to be between him and his girl, no one else. Harry practically ran toward her, thinking he couldn’t get to her fast enough, and Delilah just about managed to stand up before he threw himself at her.

For a long time they stood on his dressing room floor, Harry’s arms around her neck and Delilah’s around his waist as they held each other close. Both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, not from the three weeks they had been away from each other, but the sentiment of her actions. All the small things she had done for him since day one, waiting for him to feel comfortable and ready to dive into what they hoped would be a future together, always asking before doing something he might not be okay with, being too kind and gentle with him, always, and lastly her surprising him on tour. Something suddenly clicked in his head as he smelled her cherry blossom perfume he loved so much - this was it; Delilah was it for him, it was she he had been waiting for to come into his life after going through too many shitty relationships and breakups. There was no way he would let this one go when she understands him and loves him for everything he is (though they hadn’t said that yet - Delilah being afraid to scare him away and Harry wanting to wait until one day it slipped and came naturally).

Delilah, too, felt the same. She knew he was it for her - showering her with the affection and tenderness she needed from someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. They were perfect together and if taking it slow was the way to go with Harry then she would continue to do so forever, making sure he is always comfortable and safe with her.

**

Thank you for reading, will hopefully be back with another chapter of my fwb series soon <3

[reifromrfa]

Surprises: Vanderwood x MC | Mysme RBB fic

Hi guys! I’m sure you’ve seen this project in the fandom, there are a lot of talented artists and writers who are a part of it ^^ This piece is for the @mysme-rbb and it was such a thrill to write it! I’ve missed writing for the fandom and I’m glad I got this opportunity to do so <3 Even luckier that I got paired with two amazing artists! 

For this first collab, I got paired with the wonderful GLX ! Please check out their instagram HERE!  We’re super lucky to have collaborated on a character we both love: Vanderwood! So I hope you enjoy the story and I hope I can write for everyone again soon ヾ(@^▽^@)ノ PS: I’ll edit this post with the link to the art once it’s out! ^^

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Surprises

In collaboration with gl.artsy 

"Hurry!"

Vanderwood chuckles and closes the car door, hoisting bags and baskets on his arms and shoulders. MC laughs and hugs the beach towels to her chest, grinning widely.

"Sorry...I'm a little excited," her grin turns sheepish but Vanderwood shakes his head, his smile mirroring her own. Seeing her this happy makes him feel things he hasn't felt before --pleasant feelings. Feelings...that a secret agent just doesn't have the luxury to be thinking about, much less feel. But he's not a secret agent anymore --he has a legal job now, one where he doesn't have to risk his life everyday or dirty his hands. Hell, the dirtiest his hands can get with his new job as Jumin's bodyguard is cleaning up after his cat.

With his free hand, he reaches for hers and weaves their fingers together.

Today is their one-year anniversary and Vanderwood wants everything to be absolutely perfect. He's not one for grand gestures and romantic stuff, but he knows celebrations like these matter to girls.

In the past year he's been with MC, he's gotten used to watching those cheesy romantic chick flicks. Never in his life did he imagine he'd be forced to watch those kinds of shi--stuff. But he's braved through The Notepad, A Stroll to Remember, Crazy Silly Love...and he's learned a lot from those movies. For one, his girlfriend ends up crying every time they watch the shows together.

Every. Single. Time.

But he'd see how immersed she is in the scenes where the guys make a big move for the girl. Vanderwood would notice how she heaves a deep sigh and wipes her eyes, a dreamy smile on her face.

Ha...he's new to this relationship thing but he's not stupid; Vanderwood knows how this works. The bigger the gesture, the happier MC will be...

...right?

He's startled out of his thoughts when MC tugs his hand, pointing at a spot on the beach. "Over there! There's a free spot there!"

Vanderwood follows after MC and starts setting up their towels and beach umbrella. This is the first step in his grand surprise for MC today: spend the morning at the beach, a place MC rarely went to. The excited look on her face is all the confirmation he needs; he did good, choosing this as the start of their date.

MC sits on the towel under the shade of the umbrella and takes off her wide-brimmed hat, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. When she opens them, she turns to Vanderwood. "Baby, this is perfect. The skies are clear, there's a breeze and there's not much people; it's almost like we have the beach to ourselves!"

Vanderwood chuckles, sitting beside his girlfriend and reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear. "You like it?"

At his touch, she blushes and smiles, nodding her head. "I do, Vanderwood. I really do."

He leans forward, lips quirking up into a smirk. "Good...that's real good, MC." Vanderwood can see the blush on her face deepening as he inches closer and his own heart races, eyes darting to her slightly-parted lips. As he draws nearer though, he hears a whooshing sound through the air and a distant yell: "LOOK OUT!"

His reflexes kick in and Vanderwood pulls MC against his chest then pins her against the ground, using his body to shield her from whatever it is --MC doesn't even have the time to process what's happening. But she feels herself warming, eyes fixated on Vanderwood's tense expression, at the way he's hovering on top of her, holding her protectively against him.

A second later, their umbrella is knocked over and a spray of sand flies across Vanderwood's back. He turns away and shields MC's eyes, a million thoughts already flying through his mind.

"Could it be that some agents found me? How many are there? How am I gonna get MC safely to the car? The taser's in the bag, if I could just reach it in time

"Vanderwood turns his head to look for the target-

-when his eyes fall to the white volleyball lying on the sand near them.

"Sorry! I'm so sorry, that's my fault!!!" A kid with blonde hair is running up to them, waving his hand and trying to bow at the same time. Vanderwood's eyes narrow. Wait a minute...isn't that-

"Yoosung?" comes MC's voice.

Sure enough, Yoosung's purple eyes widen as recognition dawns and he laughs, running faster. Right behind him is the silver-haired actor and Jaehee Kang, all dressed in their beachwear. Zen smiles when he spots the two familiar faces but it only lasts for a second --the moment he realizes the position the couple are in...

"YA!!! Vanderwood! What are you doing!" Zen glares at Vanderwood, pointing an accusatory finger at the Silver Spoon's bodyguard. Vanderwood narrows his gaze at the actor but hurriedly straightens himself, his face feeling warm.

"Baby, are you okay?"

"I am...what was that all about?" MC takes Vanderwood's hand and he pulls her up just as Yoosung stops in front of them, a sheepish smile on his face.

"Sorry! Zen hit the ball too hard and I received it wrong so it went flying...I didn't know it would end up here where you guys are! I didn't even know you two were going to be here too!"

Vanderwood rubs the back of his neck, wishing they'd leave him and MC alone. It's not that he doesn't like them, but today he'd like MC all for himself. "Ha...yeah, what a coincidence."

"Ya, you!" Zen jabs a finger at Vanderwood's chest, eyes blazing. "What the heck was that!"

Vanderwood looks at Zen with a deadpan look on his face. "I thought there was a threat, so I was defending my girlfriend. Will you stop having perverted thoughts?"

MC giggles. "It's true, Zen! He was just trying to protect me~"

"That's very quick thinking." Jaehee pipes in, picking up the ball. "I suppose that's what makes you a great bodyguard, Vanderwood."

"Ha...thanks." Vanderwood feels awkward still, but for an ex-agent with no family and no friends...his life's shaping out real good. Still, friends or not, he wants these people to go away and let him pamper his girlfriend. "So, now that that's settled-"

"OH! Why don't you two join us in a game of volleyball? Please!!! I'm tired of picking up the ball all the time!" Yoosung begs them, hands pressed together in front of him.

"Aww, that sounds fun! We're game, right, baby?" MC says, winking at Vanderwood. To the others, she says, "The two of us will be in a team against you guys! You'll see, Vanderwood will carry our team!"

Vanderwood can't help but feel proud at MC's words. Okay...maybe one game of volleyball wouldn't hurt. After that, they'll go back to their spot and maybe he can go swimming with MC, or get some cool drinks.

~

Yoosung, Jaehee and Zen stayed with them the entire time. After volleyball, they took MC and Vanderwood to their rented cabin and shared their meal. Vanderwood and Zen ended up grilling meat and seafood for the rest but it was actually fun. The non-stop chatter and laughs, the volleyball games, seeing MC enjoy herself --okay okay, it's not so bad that their first date got interrupted. But of course, Vanderwood has more tricks up his sleeves.

A long drive and a shower later, Vanderwood and MC change into more semi-formal attire as he drives them to one of the fancy restaurants in town. The restaurant is situated atop a building, with the entire floor encased in glass windows so guests can dine with a view overlooking South Korea. It's fine dining and Vanderwood has never been to a classy restaurant while off-duty; to be honest, something like this kinda suits Jumin Han more...but Vanderwood doesn't want to take MC to their regular dining spots. No, for this special day she deserves something special too.

As they're led to their seats by the hostess, Vanderwood once again intertwines his fingers with hers. "I heard this place has the best seoullangtang."

MC tugs at his hand, looking at him with narrowed eyes. "Baby, this place is really expensive...you didn't have to."

Ha...oh no, doesn't she like it?

"It's our anniversary," he tells her, lifting their hands and then turning hers so he can kiss the back of it. "Don't even think about that, baby."

MC turns red at Vanderwood's blatant display of affection. Usually, he's more reserved and careful when they're in public; she assumed it's because of his past and she didn't mind. But today, he's been more touchy and showy...MC has to admit, it's giving her heart a pleasant workout. They're seated right by the window and Vanderwood is the perfect gentleman, pulling her chair out for her and helping her onto her seat. MC feels shy all of a sudden as Vanderwood slides into his seat across her. With the dim lighting from the restaurant, the candle in the middle of the table casts Vanderwood's face in a warm glow and MC unconsciously swallows, entranced by him.

Their previous dates were never this fancy and she's not complaining --she loves wherever they are, be it the beach or the supermarket, a fancy restaurant or McFonald's. As long as they're together, she's happy.

But seeing her boyfriend all dressed up in a crisp button-down shirt and a coat, hair tied into a half-ponytail, brown eyes staring at her --she can't help but feel the depth and seriousness of their relationship. Today is their anniversary, which means she's spent 365 days with this man...more than that, of course. Ever since they met, her days have been full of color and life. MC reaches across the table for his hand and holds it tightly in hers.

"I love you, Vanderwood."

Vanderwood's glad it's kinda dark because his heart does that weird little thing and he feels his cheeks burn as a smile spreads across his face. "I love you too, MC."

She mirrors his smile and it's strange but MC feels like she did the first time she met him in person, nervous and intimidated, but at the same comforted by his presence and intrigued. This once mysterious man is hers and though she knows she's barely scratched the surface of all that he is, she can't wait to learn more about him everyday, for the rest of their lives.

"Baby, order whatever you like, okay? Haha, don't be worrying about the prices." Vanderwood says as they open their menus. MC's eyes are skimming through the dishes (half of which she can't even pronounce because they're in different languages) when she hears the sound of a familiar voice.

"I didn't expect to see you both here this evening."

Vanderwood tenses. No freaking way...

But he's been hanging around that voice for months now and he'd recognize it anywhere --his boss, Jumin Han. Vanderwood reluctantly looks at the man standing beside their table, the leader of the RFA at his side. Jihyun at least looks apologetic for barging into their date.

"Jumin! Jihyun! What a coincidence!" MC exclaims happily, smiling at them. Truth be told, she was looking forward to spending more alone time with her boyfriend, but she also doesn't want to be rude to her friends. "Did you guys just arrive?"

"Yes. A business colleague recommended this place. I would have asked for a private room but Jihyun preferred to stay close to the windows."

Jihyun laughs good-naturedly at Jumin's words. "This place is popular for their stunning view of the city, after all. We should get going to our table, Jumin, let's not bother them..."

"Have a good time, boss, Jihyun." Vanderwood gives them a little wave. "Nonsense. We haven't seen MC in a while. Perhaps we should ask for a bigger table and dine together."

You've got to be kidding me.

"Jumin-" Jihyun tries to interrupt, but Jumin is already gesturing for the host. In mere minutes, Vanderwood and MC are seated with Jihyun and Jumin. Of course...it's not all that bad. He didn't have to be so formal with his boss since they're outside of work, and Jumin knew his way around the menu; the meal Jumin ordered for them was mouth-wateringly delicious. Vanderwood had no idea which ones were good, so he's grateful for that part, at least.

But seriously...this was starting to get annoying. Would the RFA be popping up at his planned dates with MC? Vanderwood represses a sigh though, and fights the itch for a cigarette.

They enjoy their meal and, realizing he has no choice but to endure it, Vanderwood relaxes and allows himself to enjoy the company.

All of a sudden, they're bathed in a hue of colors and MC's eyes turn to the windows, widening with surprise. The sky is lit up by fireworks --something Vanderwood had arranged for. Her eyes are bright and her smile is priceless. As the fireworks paint the night sky with streaks of brilliant color, MC feels a peace inside her, knowing that's exactly what she was thinking of moments before. Vanderwood is like the scene outside, illuminating her life with the most dazzling colors.

And while MC gazes at the beautiful display, Vanderwood stares, enchanted, at the woman who brought light to his life.

~

The last stop of the evening is the last showing of the latest romance movie, a movie MC has been waiting for. Vanderwood settles into their comfortable lazy boy couches, glad he paid for these seats.

"I'm so excited, I've heard a lot of good reviews already!" MC whispers to him, leaning close. Vanderwood chuckles.

"Baby, it's gonna be amazing." He leans closer to her, stealing a quick kiss in the dark theater. MC bites her lower lip as he pulls away, wanting to tell him how much she loves him. But the movie starts and MC has to stop herself from squealing in excitement. She keeps her hand locked with his, eyes focused on the screen.

Vanderwood feels relaxed now, knowing no one can interrupt them, knowing he can enjoy this moment with his girlfriend and sneak glances at her cute reactions.

But just thinking those thoughts has jinxed the situation. The doors to the cinema creak open and Vanderwood picks up the sound of popcorn bags and two hushed whispers. He glances at the empty seats beside him and sighs.

"Oh! If it isn't Mary and MC!"

Vanderwood curses inwardly and almost slaps his hand to his face. No. No freaking way. No damn way.

But after some shuffling sounds, Saeyoung plops down on the seat beside Vanderwood with Saeran occupying the other.

"Ohoho, I didn't know you were into romance movies, Vandy~" Saeyoung whispers before leaning forward in his seat and waving at MC. "Hi, MC! Thanks for restarting this guy's heart! If you ask me, you should have used a tase-"

"Ya! Shut up!" Vanderwood says, a little too loudly. The audience shushes him and Vanderwood slinks into his seat while Saeyoung covers his laughs with a hand.

For the duration of the movie, Vanderwood has to put up with Saeyoung's reactions and his hushed side comments. At some point, popcorn starts to fly towards the brown-haired man too, bouncing off his hair. Saeran shakes his head, heaving a sigh as Saeyoung takes another popcorn and throws it subtly to Vanderwood. The ex-agent was ready though; he catches the popcorn and throws it back to Saeyoung, who slides down his chair dramatically.

"I've been hit...Saeran ah, save yourself~~~"

Vanderwood glances at MC's face to watch her reaction and he's surprised to see her eyes fixed on him. She's biting her lower lip, trying to stop herself from laughing. Vanderwood smirks, reaching out and freeing her lower lip from her bite.

"You want a shot at the idiot?" Vanderwood murmurs near her ear. MC nods and takes a piece of popcorn then tosses it to Saeyoung, who's crawling up his chair as quiet as he can.

Saeyoung gasps and flops back down on the ground, holding his chest as though he's wounded.

"Sneak attack! Saeran, help m-"

"No."

"Okay no ;;;;"

~

Vanderwood stirs, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.

Damn, what time is it?

Yesterday felt so long --with all that happened, Vanderwood feels exhausted and a little disappointed at himself for failing MC. Everything should have been perfect, but as luck would have it, the RFA just had to meddle in all his plans.

He lays in bed, blinking away his sleepiness, wondering if he can do anything today to salvage their anniversary. Absently, he reaches beside him, wanting to pull MC to his side and wake her up with kisses --but his hands come up blank.

"What the-?"

His head whips to the empty space beside him and Vanderwood sits up just as the door opens. MC comes in, balancing a small tray table filled with food.

"Baby, what are you doing?" Vanderwood asks, bewildered. He starts to move from the bed but MC makes a sound and continues moving towards him.

"No no, you stay right there," she says, eyes staring at the orange juice sloshing inside the glass. "Don't get off the bed, baby!"

Vanderwood freezes, unsure what's happening. Finally, MC lays the tray table on the bed and beams at Vanderwood. "Happy anniversary, baby!"

The brown-haired man blinks, surprised. Then a soft chuckle escapes his lips. "MC, baby...did you do all this for me?"

MC shrugs, her smile wide enough to light up the room. "Maybe~"

She carefully sits on the bed closest to Vanderwood, tucking her hair behind her ear. "Baby, yesterday was amazing! I wasn't expecting those surprises at all."

Vanderwood's brows furrow. "What do you mean..? MC...I...was gonna apologize-"

"What? For what?"

Vanderwood awkwardly scratches his cheek, not sure what to say. "Uh...ha, 'coz I didn't intend for the RFA to show up. And I mean, anniversaries aren't supposed to be celebrated like that...right? The movies we watched, the celebrations ain't like that."

Giggling, MC leans towards her boyfriend and kisses his cheek. "Oh Vanderwood, it was perfect. I had so much fun, even more so because our friends were with us celebrating our special day with us.

Without the RFA, you and I would have met in a different way. But I like our love story, because everything that has happened so far has led us to this moment, baby." She holds his hands, cheeks turning red. "I loved watching you play volleyball and grill our lunch, I loved listening to you talk with our friends, I loved catching my boyfriend all dressed up to take me on a fancy dinner, and I loved that you sat through another romance movie with me, all the while having a popcorn battle with Saeyoung."

MC squeezes his hands and all of Vanderwood's doubts vanish; his eyes fix on her, his heart beating loudly against his chest.

"Vanderwood...the girls in those movies we watch get one big gesture per movie but I got three amazing dates in one day. My friends were there to celebrate a special day with me: the anniversary of the day I promised forever to the love of my life. And I-"

Before MC could finish her speech, Vanderwood closes the gap between them and meets her lips for a kiss, pulling her close to him without toppling over the tray. MC's hands clutch the front of his shirt and her eyes close, her body tingling as he pours his emotions into their kiss.

"MC," Vanderwood says breathlessly, leaning his forehead against hers, "I love you. I'll keep takin' you out for dates, keep celebrating this day with you every year. 'Coz it's the day you and I got together, the day my life started to make more sense..." He gives her another peck and pulls her closer, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "But every day you remind me that there's more to life than fighting and running. Every day, I wanna see you smile and hear you tell me you love me."

MC giggles and wraps her arms around him. "I love you, Vanderwood." She lays her head on his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart, a heart that's tied to hers. "Yesterday was amazing but today I'm keeping you all to myself."

Vanderwood chuckles, reaching for a piece of bacon and holding it near her lips. MC takes a small bite from it and Vanderwood takes a larger chunk. "You and me all day, huh?"

MC nods, reaching for her phone. "You and me, all day, everyday." She holds the phone away from them, opening the camera app. "Happy anniversary, baby~"

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Thank you so much for the opportunity to participate, @mysme-rbb :) I had fun and kudos to the mods for an amazing project! 

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Check out my other Mysme writings here!

Mango Shake/Ko-fi is always very much appreciated (ᵔᴥᵔ)

I’d be honored to write your story <3 (Commissions are full and closed atm ;A;)

[lovelucybradford]

I Pretend You’re Mine (All the Damn Time).  One

Tumblr’s hottest new Derek HalexOC fic is “I Pretend You’re Mine (All the Damn Time)”. Fueled by one too many rom-coms and the author’s thirst for Tyler Hoechlin, this fic has EVERYTHING: childhood friends to lovers, fake engagement, mutual pining, Derek Hale’s family alive and well, and SLOW BURN (oh so slow). 

One: get me with those green eyes, baby.

“Yo Rosie, you better go over there. Cinderella’s about to steal your man,” Stiles commented nonchalantly, sipping on a Coke from a paper cup. He was trying to hide his smile, but Rosalie could see right through him. 

 “Shut up, Stiles. He’s not my man.” Rosalie rolled her eyes, but didn’t stray her focus from Derek, Cinderella, and her niece, Charlotte. The young girl who was playing Cinderella couldn’t be older than twenty-one. (Way too young for the man.) Sure enough, she had her dainty hand on Derek’s bicep, likely commenting on his muscles. (That had happened with Ariel, an hour before. To which Rosalie thought that she’d be able to fill out those seashells much better.)

  Derek laughed, scratching the back of his neck—a sure sign that he was uncomfortable with all of the attention. It had been his tell for as long as Rosalie had known him—verging on twenty-five years, give or take the time that they’d spent apart in college and Rosalie’s four-year stint living with her father’s family in New York City (a mistake, big mistake).

 That had been a change; Derek used to eat up all of the attention from women when they were younger. A lot had changed with the two friends through the years; lovers had come and go, lessons learnt the hard way—but the one thing that hadn’t changed was their connection to each other. No one quite understood Rose the way that Derek did, and she’d like to think that nobody understood Derek like she did. 

 Charlotte pointed one blue-painted nail towards her aunt, and suddenly all eyes were on her. “Auntie Rosie! Come here!” she called loudly.

 Rosalie obliged, excusing herself from Lydia and Stiles to join Charlotte, Derek, and the princess. Cinderella smiled kindly at Rosalie, eyes briefly flicking up to her hair. She turned to Derek and asked, “Is this your princess?”

To which Rosalie flushed a bright shade of red. Cinderella was likely referring to Rosalie’s elaborate updo. Her red hair was covered in green glitter, complete with a sparkling, emerald-encrusted tiara. Charlotte, ever the shy child, had been nervous to go to the Bippity Boppity Boutique by herself, and convinced her aunt to play along. So, Rosalie had gotten the works, and Derek and Stiles teased her incessantly all day. She didn’t mind, really. She’d do anything for the kid, whether that be to sell her soul or literally become her childhood moniker.

Derek chuckled apprehensively and ducked his head. Charlotte answered for them both, giving Stiles Stilinski more fodder for his jokes.

“Yeah! This is my Auntie Rose. Uncle Derek calls her princess,” Charlotte smiled proudly. In the distance, Stiles guffawed, and Lydia leaned her head on her boyfriend’s shoulder. Likely hiding her own laugh, for Rosalie’s benefit.

Rosalie stumbled over her own words. “I…um…childhood nickname. Anyways, Char, do you want a photo so the nice people behind us get a chance to meet Cinderella, too?”

The four posed for the photo, Derek and Rosalie on either side of the princess and Charlotte, curtseying, in front. Lydia snapped a quick photo on her own phone and on Rosalie’s. Then, Rosalie graciously thanked Cinderella and the photographer, eager to get the hell out of the awkward situation.

Derek swept Charlotte up on to his shoulders, giving a polite nod before he turned to leave as well. Cinderella tapped him on the arm, and added, “Have a magical day! Your girlfriend is beautiful.”

Rosalie lost her footing at Cinderella’s words, almost crashing embarrassingly to the floor if it weren’t for Lydia’s supportive hand on her wrist. She let Lydia lead her out of the building, feeling quite lightheaded all of a sudden.

The sun had set in the near hour that they had waited to meet the princesses. The stars in the sky sparkled above, bringing a whole new sense of magic to ‘The Most Magical Place on Earth’.

“Oh my God, this picture is so cute. I’m def posting it on Instagram,” Lydia said, smiling down at her phone. She moved closer to her cousin so Rosalie could see the photo as well.

Rosalie cringed. “Um, no you’re not.” Charlotte looked adorable, as she always did. Rosalie, well—Rosalie looked exactly as she felt in that very moment. The pink in her cheeks perfectly matched the tapestry behind them, and she couldn’t blame that shade of red on a blossoming sunburn. And Derek—he looked like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed with a tight-lipped smile. Even when mortified he still managed to look gorgeous.

It hurt Rosalie’s heart just a little bit to think that Derek was mortified because someone thought they were together. But she buried that feeling once she saw Stiles saunter towards them, Derek and a chattering Charlotte in tow.

“Too late. I already did,” Lydia announced, lips tilting into a playful smile.

“Already did what?” Derek peeked over the women’s heads.

He groaned loudly, making Charlotte laugh. “Please tell me you didn’t just post that on Instagram. God, Laura’s never going to let me live this down.”

Rosalie tilted her head upward and smirked at her best friend. “Just wait until I tell her that you got hit on by Cinderella.” She laughed at Derek’s flared nostrils and pursed lips. He smacked her on the shoulder blade with the hand that wasn’t supporting Charlotte, who was clutching Derek’s black baseball-cap covered head with both little hands.

Charlotte tilted her head, befuddled. “What does ‘hit on’ mean?”

Rosalie and Derek stayed silent, neither one wanting to answer. Stiles replied for them, winking up at the little girl. “It means that Cinderella liked your Uncle Derek. Anywho, I’m thinking that we hit that Millennium Falcon ride.”

Rosalie checked her phone. “Can’t, Stiles. We have to head to dinner.”

Stiles sighed. “Please God, tell me your father won’t be joining us, Rosalie. I already have to deal with him for a whole week. If I have to spend more time with him than that, I might chop off my arm with a lightsaber.”

Lydia checked the map, and the group began their trek towards the restaurant.

“What’s Stiles talking about?” Derek asked as he hiked Charlotte further up his shoulders.

“The Martin Family Reunion,” Lydia commented, looking pointedly at Rosalie. Rosalie, who had forgotten all about it. And furthermore, forgotten about the little white lie she’d made when she RSVP’d. “A weeklong cruise hosted by Rosalie’s father.”

Lydia pursed her lips, green eyes flitting back and forth between her cousin and the path in front of her. “The one that Drew will be at… with his new fiancée, Ashleigh.”

The mention of the two made Rosalie sick. It had been a blow to Rosalie, when she’d seen that Instagram post on her sister’s profile. She was stupid to think that it couldn’t get worse than her ex and her sister sleeping together behind her back. Then they had to go and get engaged, a sure reminder to Rosalie that Drew, the one love of her life, would never really be gone from it.

“Gross,” Charlotte said. “Drew the Douchebag.”

Rosalie’s mouth gaped in repulsion. She glared scoldingly up at her niece. “Charlotte Marie Martin, who told you that?”

Charlotte had the nerve to not look guilty at all. She innocently smiled back at her aunt. “Daddy… and Uncle Derek.”

Rosalie turned her glare to Derek, whose shoulders were shaking, and not because of the weight of the five-year-old perched on them. “You’ve never even met Drew,” she hissed.

Derek kept his gaze straight forward. “I didn’t have to, not with what he did.”

“Can’t argue there,” Stiles chimed in, and Rosalie smacked him on the back of the head.

Derek stopped, and Rosalie thought he was going to apologize. Instead, he crouched down. “Ok, Charlie. Why don’t you walk with Auntie Rose for a while? Uncle Derek’s shoulders hurt.”

Charlotte clambered off of Derek and into the welcoming hand of her aunt. Rosalie couldn’t stay mad at Charlotte. It wasn’t her fault that Rosalie’s brother let things slip. Charlie just mimicked what her father said.

Rosalie didn’t speak the rest of the way. She was too angry with what Derek and her brother had been saying behind her back. (Even though she knew they spoke the truth.)

“Rosalie? Lydia?” came a call from behind the group. Rosalie didn’t have to turn around in her beach chair to know who it was. She shifted the sleeping little girl in her lap slightly so she could sink down in it, ducking her head.

Derek snorted a laugh. “What are you doing?” His stare flickered between Rosalie and Lydia (who was in a similar position in her own chair), green eyes full of amusement.

“I’m invisible. I’m not here. I don’t exist,” Rosalie whispered, eyes scrunched shut and wishing it into reality.

Derek crouched, meeting Rosalie’s line of sight. “Why are we hiding?”

“Shh!” she shushed him with a finger to her lips. “You remember my crazy Aunt Susie?”

“Your dad’s sister? The one who looks like the female version of Donald Trump?”

“Yes. Also known as the family gossip. She will undoubtedly say something shitty about Drew and Ashleigh’s engagement.”

Derek scoffed. “Fuck them.” As an afterthought, he added, “You know what, fuck her too.”

Rosalie swatted him on the forearm. “Children, Derek. There are children present.”

Derek rolled his eyes. “I didn’t say it that loud… and the kid is asleep.”

“Yo Lydia, Rosalie, Derek. I’m back with the contraband.” Stiles weaved between chairs and the standing crowd, arms full of paper drink cups and soft pretzels.

Lydia kicked him in the shin. “Shut up, Stiles.”

Stiles looked amused. “Why are you whispering?”

“Yoo Hoo! Rosalie Anne! Lydia Isabella! You can’t hide from your Aunt Susie!” Rosalie’s aunt yelled, words slurred with her southern drawl, and likely a bit of alcohol.

Stiles’ eyes widened, and he too ducked down. “Forget I asked.”

A slim, bony finger poked Rosalie on her bun-topped head. Aunt Susie shuffled around the chairs to stand in front of the group. With no escape in sight, Rosalie and her friends sighed and straightened themselves up.

“Oh, my,” Aunt Susie chirped, grabbing hold of both Rosalie’s and Lydia’s cheeks. “Look at how much you two have grown!”

Rosalie smiled kindly, as she was taught to do from a young age. She hoped if she obliged in conversation, then Aunt Susie would leave quicker and they could enjoy their night in peace.

Aunt Susie’s smile fell when her eyes swept over Lydia’s boyfriend. “And Steve…nice to see you again.”

Stiles scratched his chin, mumbling, “It’s um…Stiles. Stiles Stilinski.”

But Aunt Susie paid no mind. Her attention was completely on the man that sat to Rosalie’s left. Her eyes scanned him, seemingly sizing him up. Or checking him out. Likely the latter, Rosalie thought, knowing her aunt.

“Well, Rosalie. Who’s this?” she drawled, looking quite like a cat watching its prey.

Derek straightened out and forced a smile. He held out a hand for her to shake. “Derek Hale, ma’am.” Derek’s mother had instilled politeness in her son, even if he didn’t like the person. And Rosalie knew that Derek wasn’t fond of Rosalie’s father’s side of the family.

She took it, shaking too enthusiastically. A sense of recognition washed over her plump face, and her hand stilled. “Derek Hale… little Derek Hale? Why, you’ve grown, too. When was the last time I saw you? Ten years ago?”

Derek smirked, fire in his eyes. Rosalie prepared herself for the inevitable shit talking, already planning damage control. “Actually, it was fourteen years ago. At the second wedding of Jason Martin. When your brother married his mistress and left Rosalie, Levi, and Ms. Hart.”

Stiles snorted noisily, placing a hand over his mouth to cover up his laughter. Lydia cracked a smile, too. Rosalie kicked Derek, hard. Well, as hard as she could with a child still sleeping soundly on her lap.

Aunt Susie’s mouth opened and closed in shock, for once at a loss for words.

Charlotte woke at just the right time, deterring the awkward silence. She stretched and yawned loudly, then sat up in Rosalie’s lap. Her tiara was crooked, and her eye makeup was smudged, but she still looked cute. Rosalie wished she looked that nice after sleeping in her makeup.

“Aunt Susie!” she cried at the sight of her great-aunt, wrapping the woman in a hug. Ah, childhood innocence. Charlie didn’t know what the real world was like, what her extended family was really like, and Rosalie preferred to keep her naivety.

Charlotte easily engaged Aunt Susie in an excitable conversation. Rosalie, eerily conscious of eyes on her, shifted her ring between the fingers of both hands. It was an impulse buy, the vintage sapphire with the white gold band. She’d seen it on display in one of the shop windows and absolutely had to have it, even if it was way more than she’d ever spend on herself.

“Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you on the cruise in a few weeks.” Aunt Susie turned to leave. Her eyes caught something, and she halted, wide-eyed.

“Oh, my stars,” she commented, hands on her heart. “I… I thought after Drew you were a hopeless case, but…”

Rosalie couldn’t comprehend why her aunt was getting choked up. And the ‘hopeless case’ comment stung more than she would have liked.

Sweet, sweet Charlie reached up to dry her great-aunt’s tears. The damage was already done—white tear tracks contrasted starkly with the tangerine of the older woman’s self-tanner. “What’s wrong, Aunt Susie?”

Aunt Susie, so overwhelmed with emotion, didn’t register the little girl’s words. Instead, she grabbed Derek’s hand. It hung limply in hers. Derek looked alarmed. “Oh, Rosalie’s father will be absolutely thrilled to see you… both of his baby girls… first Drew and Ashleigh…”

Aunt Susie shook her head and dabbed at her eyes with the bottom of her red Mickey Mouse t-shirt.

With her resolve back, she straightened. “Well now, please tell me you’re coming on the cruise?”

“I, um…” Derek stuttered, looking to his best friend for help. Rosalie had no idea what was going on either, and just shrugged in response.

“Well, you absolutely must go now! Of course, Lydia and her wild boyfriend are coming--”

Stiles quietly muttered something along the lines of “I may be wild, but at least I’m not one step away from the loony bin, lady.” Rosalie leaned her elbow on the armrest and laughed into her palm.

“--and Rosie, you absolutely have to bring your fiancé,” Aunt Susie pleaded, looking straight at Derek.

Rosalie couldn’t look at him. She froze, stock still, staring in horror at the sapphire ring that had migrated from her right ring finger onto her left. Where an engagement ring would go. And her new piece of jewelry sure as hell looked like an engagement ring.

“YOU’RE GETTING MARRIED?!” Charlotte squealed loudly, clasping her hands in glee.

Rosalie was about to deny it, let the little girl down easy, when Charlotte began to cry.

“Char, why are you crying?” Rosalie asked, voice shaking. She couldn’t look anywhere else but at her niece, heart beating heavily in her chest.

“I’m just… I’m so, so, happy,” Charlotte sniffled. “I love you so much, Uncle Derek.” The little girl climbed over Rosalie and hopped into Derek’s lap, engulfing him in a huge hug. Derek didn’t hug her back, but only for a miniscule moment. He shook his head, coming to his senses, and then wrapped his arms around the girl, patting her back stiffly.

“You didn’t tell her?” Aunt Susie asked Rosalie, accusingly. Rosalie looked to her right for help. Stiles and Lydia were silently sharing a soft pretzel, looking just as stunned as Rosalie.

“No… um, we were going to tell Charlotte during the fireworks. Right, Rosie?” Derek mumbled, saving face. Rosalie thanked him silently for his quick wit.

Rosalie’s head whipped in the opposite direction. She met Derek’s apprehensive eyes. It was almost as if he was asking permission, like he actually agreed to go along with this whole charade.

It was the perfect ruse if Rosalie could ever think of one. A month ago, she’d drunkenly RSVP’d with a plus one to the family reunion cruise, as a way to save her pride and spite her family, who likely thought that she’d come alone and pine for her ex.

No way in hell, she’d thought. Even though there was no one in her life that she could even remotely think of to bring as a date. Derek was out of the question, before…

But now…

She subtly raised a brow, wordlessly asking, are you sure?

Derek subtly nodded back, lip quirking in a reassuring half smile.

Rosalie cleared her throat and straightened herself to her tallest seated height. She wasn’t confident at all, so she was going to fake it till she made it. “That’s right. We were going to wait until the fireworks, make it more magical for Charlotte.”

The speakers on the green lamppost next to them announced that the show was starting. Aunt Susie left them all with a wave and a ‘see you soon’.

No one spoke during the show, except for Charlotte, who was oblivious to the mess that she’d inadvertently got them into.

“So, I guess you’re my fiancée now,” Derek joked, lightly shoving Rosalie in the side. She smiled shyly up at her best friend. Amusement shined in his eyes. He wasn’t mad or appalled like Rosalie suspected him to be. Thank God.

“I, um, I guess I am,” Rosalie replied, swinging her now free arms beside her. Stiles had taken over the task of carrying a sleepy Charlotte to the car. He and Lydia trailed behind them, whispering. Likely about Derek and Rosalie’s… predicament.

“Dude, you two are fucked,” Stiles said, appearing suddenly on Rosalie’s left.

“So fucked,” Lydia affirmed after checking to see if Charlotte was still sleeping.

Rosalie couldn’t help but agree.

[saras-almanac]

@salutarykitten replied to your post “crazy ex girlfriend finale thoughts”

I found it really weird that Josh and NuGreg have had no scenes together. It's almost like Skylar/Vincent didn't have much chemistry so they just acted like they're not friends when their friendship was a huge part of the show before. I'm enjoying this last bit of the season more than the first half and the end of Season 3, and I have faith in the writers that Rebecca will choose herself in the end rather than any of the three guys.

If they don't, it would really go back on a lot of the subtext/themes of the show. Like since the very beginning the show has made a mockery of romance being the answer/conclusion to any sort of problem and to now go "let's end with an official couple!" would seem strange. Every single finale so far has had some kind of crazy twist so I can't see them just going "Lol yep Grebecca happily ever after"

I have too! It feels weird because Greg was a part of the group before he left and I can’t tell if it’s a Greg thing to not be friends with Josh anymore (which is stupid because they were best friends since they were kids and it feels bad if he doesn’t even give that friendship a second to think about it) or if it’s an unintentional byproduct of the writing this season. But I also agree that it’ll probably (hopefully) be a Rebecca-centered decision in the end!

[collecting-stories]

One - pt. 02 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend’s wedding day has come and you bring Rafe as your date. 

A/N: Jumping ahead four months with a flash back included cause I can lol. 

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

△ ▽ △ ▽

The song that was playing in the background of the dinner was slowly in-graining itself in Rafe’s mind. He was positive that he would wake up tomorrow morning with that song ruminating in the back of his brain despite the fact that he hadn’t even given it his full attention. People on either side of him, sans the empty chair that his suit jacket was draped over, were chattering in a lull hum of conversation, all acquaintances of the bride, like you were. 

You were not sitting, instead you were by the ridiculously small table set up at the top of the ballroom, at the edge of the dance floor, with enough flowers draped around it to start an arboretum. You were squatting just enough to chat while staying relatively close to standing and Rafe was watching you as you and the bride talked over something meaningless. She’d called you over and apparently you had to go, as he understood it.  

You weren’t the only thing keeping his attention though. He knew the groom. He hadn’t mentioned it on your first date, or your second, or now, four months later when he spent a ridiculous amount of time at your apartment. He hadn’t mentioned it in case you didn’t remember but he remembered you. He remembered that night at the party and back at his apartment and breakfast the next morning. Rafe could remember every detail of it but, most importantly, he had asked a friend of a friend about you afterward, after you didn’t call him. Out of curiosity he asked and found out you were back with your boyfriend and there he was now, marrying some other woman. He knew this guy, staring at you as you talked to his now bride.

When you stood up fully, shifting the end of your dress where you’d stepped back into it, Rafe sat up a little more. He watched you walk back to the table, smiling at him when you caught him watching you. Being with you now, even after the first date at Menton’s, he had to admit that he was glad you never called him back in college. He was an idiot back than, reminiscent of your ex he imagined, and he would’ve never been what you needed him to.  

“She wanted to know who you were,” you supplied, sliding into the seat that his suit jacket was saving, moving as close to him as two chairs would allow. He couldn’t stop himself from hoping that you would always want to sit that close. You leaned in so no one else at the table could hear you, “I told her I paid for you, does $100 sound like too low of a going rate?”  

The slow smile that overtook his face at your joke was infectious and you smiled back. “100 for an hour?”

“Oh no for the whole night.” You teased, “do you charge extra for after dinner?”  

“I’ll cut you a deal,” he joked, kissing you when you tilted your head back slightly.  

He wasn’t sure if it was because he just wasn’t as immature as he used to be or if it was you but he felt himself paying attention more. Learning all the little movements and expressions you had. He remembered you from college because he’d desperately wanted another chance with you. It was cliché to admit, and he doubted he ever would, but there had been something about you, about that night, that he’d wanted to freeze and live inside of. It panned out that you went back to your boyfriend and Rafe had, up until four months ago, always imagined that it lasted. That the two of you got married young, that you probably had adorable kids running around that were half you and half someone else. That you had everything you wanted in life. He had never let himself consider another possibility and then you were messaging him and you didn’t seem like you remembered and there was no way he was going to screw up a second chance by reminding you.  

-

“How can you not like Boston?” You asked, handing over his cup of coffee as you sat down beside him on the couch. He had texted you earlier in the evening to cancel what would’ve been your fifth date, telling you he was swamped with work and he had to stay in.  

Usually you would have just said that was fine and found anything else to do for the evening but it had been a week since your fourth date and as ridiculous as it sounded you really just wanted to spend time with him, in whatever capacity he had to offer. So you texted him back and asked how ‘mobile’ his office was and offered to make him dinner if he came over.  

Whatever you were feeling seemed to resonate with Rafe too because if it had been anyone else he would’ve written them off as being clingy. But he hadn’t wanted to cancel in the first place and your offer to still have him over was like a gateway. He was already packing up his laptop and files as he texted you back.  

You made spaghetti and salad and a ricotta dip that you’d found on Tasty once and mentioned that you could eat entirely on your own. Dinner was casual, just the two of you hanging out on the couch and eating, talking occasionally when he surfaced from work. He’d dressed nice for the last four dates, all dinners at higher-end restaurants that you couldn’t have afforded on a teaching salary.  

“Can’t believe the first guy you actually go out with on Tinder is fucking rich and you already know he’s great in bed.” Nina had bitched when you had told her about the first four dates. It was her constant complaint, reiterated in different ways each time you talked about Rafe.  

Tonight he looked more like the guy you hooked up with at Duke. He was just in jeans and an old college shirt, and you resisted the urge to tell him that you went there too, and his hair wasn’t styled back like he usually wore it. He just looked comfortable, even more so sitting on your couch working, Fivel having hoped up to lay beside him. Aside from Nina’s husband, who Fivel changed his mind about on a daily basis, your dog had little interaction with men but he seemed perfectly content with Rafe.  

Dinner ended and you prolonged the evening with coffee, bringing you a cup while he lamented about living in Boston. “I know it can be expensive-“

“It’s not that,” Rafe shrugged, taking the mug from your hands and leaning back against the cushions of the pink velvet couch. Was it a bit much, especially with a dog? Sure, but who didn’t want an instagramable apartment. Ian had hated the pink velvet and he told you so when you bought it and everyday until he dumped you. “I hate the weather, beach isn’t the same as down south.”

“I‘ll give you that we’re running out of beach days but, the snow is awesome!” You argued, “plus I get snow days off.”  

“Not all of us are teachers.” Rafe replied, turning his head to the side to look at you. It was probably stupid to still be in awe of you every time you were around and he had to wonder if that was ever going to change but he doubted it. “I still have to work when I’m snowed in.” He watched the way you smiled, leaning into him, careful of his coffee, to kiss him.  

“Yeah but you can get snowed in with me.” You proposed, knowing that the snow was a long way away and exactly what that suggested and maybe he didn’t think that far ahead.  

“I take it back, I think Boston is growing on me.”  

-

The open bar at the wedding was a godsend. Especially when you were busy talking to other people who worked at your school. Rafe had agreed to the weekend upstate with you because it was exactly that, a weekend upstate. You’d taken Friday and Monday off from work and extended the stay which meant extra time for the two of you, existing in this cute, small town bubble where you had no obligations except each other. Bring the dog and Rafe was sure he could live up here with you forever, a scary thought at four months.  

“Hey, do we know each other?” Ian asked, stepping up to the bar next to Rafe, undoing his bow tie and letting it hang around his neck.  

Rafe spared him a side glance as he took a long sip of his whiskey, trying to decide if he really felt like talking to this guy. You still hadn’t mentioned hooking up but you had told Rafe that the groom was your ex, someone he didn’t need any help remembering. He couldn’t blame you really, the circumstances didn’t lend to him being more than an irresponsible fuck boy back then but god was this guy a loser.  

“I don’t think so.” Rafe replied, looking back out over the reception. You were standing near the edge of the dance floor, chatting with the principal and her husband. You waved at him when you caught him looking and he nodded his head to you. He heard Ian say your name and toward him again, “what?”

“You came with-“

“Yeah.”  

“Crazy world man, I used to date her in college.”

“Yeah that’s real crazy.” He replied, pushing his empty glass back across the bar counter and asking for another. He’d need the whole bottle to get through a conversation with Ian.  

“Swear I know you from somewhere else though.” Ian said, squinting as if that would help, “did you go to Duke?”  

Yeah.”

“No fucking way, that’s crazy man!”

“It’s all crazy.” Rafe said, rolling his eyes. God he hoped this guy was drunk.  

“Did we have class together or something?”  

You caught Rafe’s eye again, waving your hand from him to come over. You’d moved on from talking and there weren’t too many other people around that you knew. Standing around awkwardly was exactly what you didn’t want. Rafe downed the rest of his second glass, leaving it on the counter as he turned to Ian, “no but I did fuck your girlfriend.” He said before walking off.  

Ian’s eyes went wide, trying to work out exactly what Rafe was saying as he watched him walk over to you. Like some kind of alcohol induced time warp Ian felt himself spiral back to the morning the two of you had gotten back together. That was it, he was the guy in the car that dropped you off. He remembered watching you kiss him in the parking lot, the same way you kissed him now.  

“Fuck.” Ian mumbled, tapping the bar, “can I get a whiskey?”  

The bartender poured him a whiskey, same as Rafe’s, and he kicked it back, coughing unexpectedly when the warm liquid hit his throat.

You wrapped your arms around Rafe’s neck as he came up to you, kissing him, “how long do you think the bridesmaids have to stay at the wedding?” You asked, leaning your whole body against him.  

“As much as I’d love to leave I think it’s pretty standard to stick around until after the cake has been cut.” He replied, hands slipping beneath the suit jacket you’d stolen from him and taken to wearing. Your dress was cut low in the back and he brushed his fingers across your bare skin. Watching the way your eyes fluttered closed for a moment at the feeling had him kissing you again. “When is the cake again?”

“Soon,” you promised, “then you and me can split…think they’d notice me lifting a bottle of champagne.”

“Not if you time it right.”  

“Okay, I’m getting a drink and then I’m making you dance cause I didn’t take my shoes off for nothing,” you announced, pulling away from him. You made your way over to the bar, eager for something that wasn’t just the wine you’d gotten with dinner. Your grad partner claimed they had signature drinks and she was apparently telling the truth as you saw the paper on display advertising an Ian and an Anya. “What’s in the Anya?” You chanced asking when you realised the writing beneath the drink name was just some bullshit about how sweet she was.  

“It’s just a pink margarita.” The bartender replied, “it’s…really sweet.”  

“Can I just get an old fashioned?”  

“Hey.”

You turned to the side, pulling Rafe’s jacket closer and looking at Ian. He had apparently not left the bar area, letting Anya get in some dancing with her friends while he hung back and drank. You had seen him enough through the wedding prep, it was unavoidable, but you hadn’t really talked to him at all.  

“Hey Ian, weddings really beautiful.” You mentioned, taking your drink and dropping a tip in the jar for the bartender.  

“Met your new boyfriend.”

“Rafe?” You asked, searching for him. He’d either snuck out of the reception room or Anya had nabbed him for the fifth time that day to talk to him. She apparently thought he was great, something she’d mentioned multiple times since she had met him last month when he dropped by the school on a half day to meet you for lunch.  

“Yeah, he went to school with us, didn’t he?”  

“I guess Ian,” you shrugged.  

“He said he did.”  

“Wait…he said that…the three of us went to school together?” You asked, all your attention on your ex. Rafe knew? If he knew you went to Duke then he had to know.

“Yeah. Said something else to.” Ian replied.  

“What?”  

“He said you and him slept together. I knew you hooked up with someone when we broke up.” Ian said, leaning closer so no one heard him.  

“I have to go.” You insisted, stopping to look back at him for a moment, “and yeah, I totally did.”

You left the reception, ignoring the DJ calling for the cake cutting to happen, leaving your heels on the seat of your table, your mind on one thing only. He knew. Rafe had seen Ian approach you at the bar and had hightailed it out of the reception, knowing that he would spill to you and knowing, even more than that, you’d think he was a creep for never saying anything.

He headed back up to the room, impeded only when he realised that the key was in his jacket which was on you. He leaned against the wall opposite door, pressing his hands to his face, trying to think of a solution. There was always asking the desk to open the door but his whole wallet was in his jacket, there was no way of proving who he was and unless this place had the worst precautions ever they weren’t gonna let a guy in a hotel room cause he said it was his.  

“Rafe!” Your voice carried down the hall and he stood up straight. There was no avoiding it now. You’d tell him how fucking weird he was for not telling you that he had slept with you in college. He sounded so fucking awful.  

“Look-“

“You knew!” You exclaimed, the one thought you’d had the entire way back to the room coming out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wait, wait, what’re we talking about?” Rafe asked, mildly confused. Had Ian told you? Did you know? You didn’t seem mad.  

“That…you know…we had sex,” you said, lowering your voice despite being in an empty hallway. “Right before spring break.”  

His expression changed from one of absolute paranoia to a smug grin, realizing that your shock wasn’t in him knowing and not telling you but in him knowing too. “You knew.”  

“Yeah,” you admitted, “but for real, it was Nina that found you on Tinder.”  

“Can’t believe you lied to me.” He replied, laughing when you smacked his arm.  

“I didn’t lie…and…you knew too!” You said, “wait, what did you say to Ian.”  

Rafe shrugged, “he was pissing me off, so I told him we’d fucked before.”  

You couldn’t help smiling, leaning into him and tilting your head back slightly for a kiss which he gave you willingly. “Why are we outside?”  

“You have both keys.” He replied, slipping his hand into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulling out his wallet. “Guess we missed cake.”  

“That’s okay, I didn’t care about the cake anyway,” you admitted, keeping your arms around his waist as he swiped the card, twisting the knob on the door and opening it.  

Aside from getting coffee in the mornings and just going on a general walk around the small town where the wedding was happening, you and Rafe had spent most of your time in the hotel room. He’d put work on hold for the long weekend too, meaning neither of you had responsibilities, especially now that the wedding was over.  

“We should order better cake and some kind of alcohol up to the room.” You suggested, tossing his jacket over the chair and heading into the bathroom to take off your makeup.  

Rafe sat on the end of the bed, watching your reflection in the mirror on the closet door across from the bathroom. He hadn’t even bothered taking off his shoes, his entire attention focused on you as you slipped out of your dress, disappearing behind the door for a split second to hang it off a hook, pulling Rafe’s gray t-shirt off the same hook and putting it on.  

“I can’t believe you never told me,” you repeated as you stepped into the room, “like I keep thinking about it and I’m like...we would’ve grown old and died not knowing.”

“I definitely would’ve told you before we died,” Rafe promised as you walked over to him, stepping between his legs. He rested his hands on your hips pushing the shirt up just slightly. “You want cake then?”

You scrunched your nose, thinking for a moment whether you truly cared about the cake or not. In all honesty you wanted the exact same thing now that you had since this morning when your alarm went off, which was you and Rafe, in bed, undisturbed. “Raincheck on the cake?”

“Sure.”  

“Since we’re on the subject-”  

“Of cake?” He asked, cutting you off.  

“No.”

“Oh, the other thing.” He replied, drawing it out as if he was truly just realizing what you were talking about.  

You stuck your tongue out at him, “yes the ‘other thing’. Sorry I never called you.”  

“Honestly,” he admitted, “this is better.”  

You couldn’t be sure where either of you would have been if you had never gotten back together with Ian and had called Rafe back. Maybe you would be married, maybe you’d have broken up and it would be him marrying Anya. A truly terrifying thought. One you might’ve lingered on longer if you let yourself. But instead you did exactly what you’d been doing for the last few hours, focusing all your attention on Rafe and shutting out everything else.  

-

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