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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years ago

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BABY MAMA

A/N: woke up and just knew i needed to write about dad Harry, bc lets be honest, he is my fav. this fic is perfectly fine as a oneshot, but if you'd like, it could be a sequel to Grammy Winner Husband and Baby Grammy, i wrote things to line up with them!

PAIRING: Husband!Harry / Dad!Harry x Reader

WORD COUNT: 2k

masterlist

The arena is blowing up, the fans are screaming from the top of their lungs and Harry is putting out a show just as good as the previous ones have been. He is blowing the stage up, singing, dancing, joking around with the fans, enjoying this time he gets to spend with the people who got him to this point in his life. He’ll never be not grateful for what he has, what he is experiencing, no matter how hard this life can get sometimes.

“Dallas, how are you feeling tonight?” he asks in the mic as he walks back to his water bottle to have a few sips. The crowd erupts, the screams almost burst his eardrums, but he just chuckles, easing his thirst with some water before he returns to the microphone stand.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he teasingly asks, though the reaction is the same. Insane screaming. “Alright, let’s move this show on before you get bored,” he chuckles playfully, the band starts playing the next song and he is back at what he does the best. Performing.

Though not far from the arena, there’s someone who thinks there’s something he is even better at than performing. That person is you, and you’re one hundred percent sure Harry is best at being a father to your five months old son.

Owning the stage, putting out the utter best he can, Harry’s thoughts still wander away from the show he is supposed to be focusing on. He can’t help it, his instincts are just completely drawn to his baby in the hotel suit, dying to know how he is doing. Leaving for the show late afternoon was harder than usually, because baby Theo was having a fever and coughing quite badly. His heart was breaking that he couldn’t help his son, didn’t even know what could be done for such a tiny baby.

“Love, he’ll be alright, okay? The doctor is on the way, it’s gonna be fine,” you told him gently as he was cradling Theo to his naked chest, always so eager to be skin-to-skin with him. Harry kissed his soft little curls on top of his head before nodding, though you knew it was eating him away.

“Call me or Jeff if something happens, okay?” he told you, handing Theo over to you, who was finally asleep after fussing for hours.

“I will,” you nodded, but he cupped your face to make you look at him.

“Y/N, I mean it. I’ll come off the stage if—“

“You won’t come off the stage, Theo is gonna be fine, he just probably got a cold from the aircon at the greenroom in Denver. He’ll be here when you get back, okay?”

He knew this tone, this was your momma bear voice and he would never argue with you when you used it, so he just nodded, kissed you and then Theo’s chubby cheek before heading out.

Now as he is nearing the end of the show he can’t help but think about finally being back at the hotel with his wife and baby, though he won’t let it be seen how eager he is to get off the stage.

The last song passes, the whole arena blows up from the energy and he is throwing kisses everywhere as he heads off the stage, down the aisle that leads him backstage. As he puts on his mask he turns around one last time, throwing some more kisses around to his beloved fans before disappearing behind the curtains.

“Did she call?” he instantly asks Jeff instantly, who hands him his phone over, a text from you already waiting for him.

Doc just left, everything is fine, left some meds for bub. Love you Xx

Even though this is what you told him before too, he feels relieved that the doctor confirmed it, but he still can’t wait to see the two of you.

“Alright, get the car ready, I’m leaving in ten,” he tells Jeff.

“Got it,” he nods, not even daring to argue with him. He knows better than to stand between Harry and his baby.

His legs bounce nervously on his way back to the hotel and he jumps out of the car as if it was on fire, running inside in a rush. He swipes the keycard through the reader on the door and opens it quietly, scanning over the place for you and Theo and there you are, sitting in one of the armchairs with his sleeping son in your arms, your hand gently tapping on his bum. You must have just finished feeding him, because a rag is still thrown over your shoulder and your shirt is all wrinkled around your chest. Theo loves playing with the fabric while you breastfeeding him and Harry loves watching his tiny fingers grab onto it and massaging it aimlessly.

“Hey,” he breathes out, quietly pushing the door closed behind him before he walks over, kneeling in front of you. He kisses Theo’s forehead first, before pressing his lips to yours too. “How is bub feeling?”

“He is doing good. The doc gave him some meds for the fever and we have a syrup for the coughing. He said he’ll be fine in a few days,” you softly explain to him, nodding towards everything the doctor left you on the coffee table.

Harry grabs the bottles, inspecting them as if he knows anything about medicine and you can’t help but smile as he furrows his eyebrows, reading the packaging.

“Want to put him to bed?” you ask him, his head snapping up right away.

“Of course,” he nods eagerly. You both stand up and he carefully takes the little boy from your arms without waking him up. “Hey bubs, I missed you,” he coos at Theo and as you watch him sway with the sleeping baby, your heart could easily burst from just the sight of them.

You didn’t know what life would be like as a family of three. After Harry posted a picture of you with his Grammy award and your belly ready to pop, the whole world went crazy over the fact that Harry Styles is going to be a dad. Despite the buzz, you managed to stay hidden for the rest of your pregnancy and just three weeks after that post, Theodore Styles decided to come to the world. Harry cancelled everything for the first two months, it was just the three of you, showering in the joys of parenthood. You had all the ups and downs, but you wouldn’t have had it any other way.

Then tour got rescheduled and Harry was hesitant whether it was a good idea to go on the road with a five months old.

“Sarah and Mitch are coming too, she gave birth a week after me,” you reasoned when Harry was about to cancel the whole tour. It took you some time to convince him that it’s gonna be fine, though you knew he would be extra cautious with Theo.

Now as you see him gently sway his way to the bassinet next to your bed, knowing that he just performed to thousands of people and now he is here with you and your son, you wouldn’t change it to some peace at home. Besides, you’re convinced tour is gonna do good for Theo, make him get used to people around him, not just the two of you or the grandparents and aunts. During the first night in Vegas, he barely spent an hour in your arms, everyone wanted a piece of him and you gladly let them befriend him, especially because he loves meeting new people, just like his daddy.

As Harry lays him into the bassinet and stands next to it with a lovesick smile on his face, you sneak behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He smells so fresh, he surely had a quick shower before heading back to the hotel, but you’re already planning to seduce him to join you for a quick shower as well. He won’t say no.

“Watched a livestream for a bit, you were so good,” you hum, kissing his right shoulder blade and you don’t miss how he leans back against you. “Loved the shimmery outfit.”

“Yeah?” he chuckles softly. Reaching around, he pulls you forwards so he can wrap you in his arms, kissing your forehead gently. “I missed seeing you dance at the side,” he smirks at you and you don’t miss the reference to the old times.

On his first solo tour, when you weren’t even married yet he often caught you dancing like crazy at the side of the stage, it would always make him laugh mid-song and you loved hearing his giggles through the mic, so you often did it on purpose. A few nights ago in Vegas you did the same, but with Theo in your arms, a massive ear protector on his head so the noise didn’t hurt him. When Harry spotted you, he almost started crying, he mouthed I love youand then carried on with the show.

“I’ll be there soon,” you smile at him, cupping his face in your hands to pull him down for a kiss that’s more than just a peck. “Now, I need help with something,” you mumble against his lips.

“Anything, baby.”

“I need you to help me shower,” you tell him cheekily. He pulls back and stares down at you with a playful grin, his hands already wandering under your shirt.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, I need someone to wash my back and… maybe somewhere else,” you hum seductively and start pulling him towards the bathroom, peeking at Theo one last time, but he is sleeping so deep, the two of you can have some alone time.

“Alright, I could never deny anything from my favorite milf,” he grins, but you smack his chest with a gasp.

“Harry! I told you not to call me that!” you protest, the two of you walking into the bathroom not to bother the sleeping baby in the room. You start running the water right away so it can be nice and hot for you when you walk in.

“Why? You are a milf,” he smirks, so full of himself, already pulling his shirt over his head.

“Then you’re a dilf, just so you know.”

“Baby, my fans have been calling me that for years, even before Theo,” he chuckles softly.

“You were destined to be a dad,” you giggle, getting rid of your own clothes. “Hey, if Theo feels better tomorrow, we could maybe take a walk in that park we saw on the way here,” you suggest, but when no answer comes, you look at Harry and find him just standing there, fully naked, staring at you grinning widely. “What?” you ask, glancing down at your own naked body. Suddenly, you are way too aware of the weight you haven’t been able to lose after giving birth, the stretch marks on your waist and how you’re not at all freshly shaved. Just as you’d move your hands to cover yourself a bit, Harry grabs your wrists and stops you.

“You are so fucking gorgeous, baby,” he hums, dropping his head until his lips could reach yours.

“Stop being such a flirt,” you giggle, feeling your face heating up.

“It’s the truth! I have the prettiest baby mama and that’s a fact.”

He looks at you with so much love and adoration in those beautiful green eyes, it almost makes you cry, knowing that this man is your husband and you get to spend the rest of your life with him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck you kiss him hard, pulling him into the spacious walk in shower.

“Then come and get your baby mama wet,” you giggle against his lips, making him laugh with the ambiguous request as he shuts the glass door behind him, his lips hungrily kissing wherever he can reach and you’re pretty sure the hot water is not the only thing that’s steaming up the glass.

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #dad!harry

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heyyyharry · 3 years ago

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Happier

(inspired by happier by Olivia Rodrigo)

Word count: 2.4k

I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

Part 1: Drivers License

Part 2: Deja Vu

A/N: I edited the original lyrics to match the POV :)

Harry had come up with a thousand scenarios of how this day would play out. Actually, he’d been thinking of this day since the moment he’d received the news. He didn’t dare to hope that she’d say yes to coming back for a sequel. He’d been sure that they would write her character off, give a lame excuse for how his love interest could not make a return and make his character forget about her completely to move on with a new girl in town. It would have been great if it was that easy in real life. Once someone was written off the script, they were gone for good. Real-life relationships were not that simple. Goodbye didn’t mean ‘never see you again’. You would still share the same friend circle and social bubbles, and it was worse when you two worked in the same industry. Harry didn’t know how he’d lasted a year without running into her, not since the Grammys.

“Didn’t you two date?”

“No.” Harry shook his head, but his eyes stayed glued on Y/N from across the room. She wasn’t looking his way, too busy saying hello to everyone else. “No,” he repeated, more to himself than to his co-star. “We didn’t.”

“But she wrote an entire album about you,” said the other twin. What was her name again? Lulu?

“Luna!” cried her sister, Lex. “You can’t ask him that!”

“No, it’s okay,” Harry said with a tight smile, slightly annoyed by the blonde twins, but he didn’t want to seem like an ass on the first day of filming. “And I don’t know if it was for me. You should ask Y/N.”

“Ask me what?”

Harry flinched when he looked up and saw Y/N padding towards them. She hugged the twins, who seemed way too excited. Harry guessed they were Y/N’s fans. They gave off crazy fangirl vibes, probably just pretending not to know the drama to interrogate him. He couldn’t blame them for assuming he was the villain and definitely could not blame Y/N for portraying him as one. It was more important that he knew who he was and how much he had changed since his last relationship. Maybe they could finally be friends.

“Were they bothering you?” Y/N asked him once the twins had left.

Harry nodded. “They’re your friends?”

“Oh, I met them last year on tour. I’m surprised you don’t know them. They were on Disney.”

“I don’t watch Disney,” Harry admitted with a smile. “Well, not today’s Disney.”

“Understandable.” Y/N nodded and bit her lip. She seemed guarded with her straight back and hands hidden behind her. She eyed him up and down, quite subtle yet noticeable. “How have you been?”

“Pretty good,” he said, nodding slowly. “You?”

“Yeah, but mostly tired because of tour.”

“You’re done?”

“Yup, last night was the last show.”

“Nice.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Nice?”

Harry blinked. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No.” Y/N giggled. “You still sound very...you.”

“Well, shouldn’t I?”

“Yeah, you should. But it’s been a year so…I mean, you haven’t changed much.”

“Right,” he said lowly, his eyes falling to his feet. Harry supposed he should say something else, perhaps bringing up another random topic to discuss, but all he could think about was what had happened between them. Things had been messy, hadn’t they? How could they go back to before that? Before her first song about him. Before he’d chosen someone else over her.

Or he could talk about her new relationship. She’d been in a happy relationship for almost six months, right? No wait, hadn’t they broke up two weeks ago? He wasn’t sure because he hadn’t been catching up. If they’d broken up, he’d sound like an ass to even mention her ex’s name. He should just stay quiet.

“I’ll see you later?” she said, gesturing at her stylist who was waiting by the door.

Harry could ask her right now -- the reason she’d agreed to film the sequel to their first movie together. He’d heard from a very reliable source that she’d specifically asked her agent to decline any project that he was in. So did this mean they were good? That she didn’t hate him anymore? He could have gathered his courage and got the answer right then…

“Yeah, see you.”

...but he didn’t.

And so she gave him a smile and a little wave, then happily returned to her stylist.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N!”

“See you, Annie!” Y/N said as she put the rest of her things into her tote bag. Her new driver had got her schedule mixed up, and so she had to wait here for another half an hour. She was in no rush. It had been a light first day, and she’d had a fun time getting to know the new cast members and catching up with old friends.

She sat on the sofa in the lobby, legs crossed, texting her best friend about her day. She’d purposely left out the short off-screen conversation with Harry, and her best friend didn’t even bother to ask. In their world, he didn’t exist, and his name was censored in every conversation like a curse word that was even worse than ‘cunt’. Nevertheless, she didn’t hate him anymore. She was doing just fine on her own, being busy with her career, and she’d been in a happy relationship after her fall out with him.

She and the guy, a model, had broken up two weeks ago due to long distance and some differences that they could not change. They had ended on good terms and decided to stay friends. They said you could only stay friends with your ex when you still had feelings for each other, or you had never loved each other that much in the first place. For her, it was probably the latter. Her previous relationship had been more platonic than romantic, apparently. So she had nothing but the best to say about him.

As she was going through her camera roll, just reminiscing about the past, she heard footsteps approaching and looked up to find Harry. He offered a smile and gestured to the spot beside her on the sofa. “May I sit here? My ride is late.”

“Yeah, sure.” She hurriedly scooted over.

“Good job today,” he said. “You were great.”

“Thanks, so were you.” She smiled, and they both looked away at the same time. This was so awkward. She hated small talk. She’d never had to have small talk with Harry. Conversations with him used to be so easy and natural and silly. Whatever this was, it wasn’t them.

“Can we just be normal?”

At first, Y/N thought she’d been the one who’d said it, so when she realised it’d been Harry, she was speechless.

He swallowed and sat a bit straighter, still not looking at her. “I don’t want us to be weird and awkward.”

“Okay,” she said.

He cleared his throat. “Wanna try again?”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Okay, not to sound like an ass but when Joey kept forgetting his lines, I was so pissed off, I could throw a chair at the wall.”

“Right?!” exclaimed Y/N, feeling free to have finally broken out of her shell. “Like, he doesn’t even have many lines. I know he’s new but damn...you can’t get far if you don’t learn your goddamn lines.”

Harry shook with laughter. “Oh God, we sound like dicks, don’t we?”

“Maybe.” Y/N laughed, covering her mouth. “But you know what? We can’t be nice in this industry. It’s impossible.”

“Shhh, if someone heard this, we would be into big trouble.”

“Oh please, I’ve had worse articles written about me than ‘Y/N speaks facts about her lazy co-star’.”

Harry tossed his head back and cackled. “The worst one I’ve got this week was ‘Harry Styles hates therapists.’”

“What?!” Y/N gasped. “No way! That’s so stupid!”

“Right?” Harry rolled his eyes. “I could get all my therapists to speak up for me but I’m kinda immune to bullshit now.”

“Therapists? Like plural?”

“Yeah, one in every city.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

Y/N rubbed her hands onto her legs. “Rough year?”

Harry’s eyes rolled to the back of his head as he leaned back. “You have no idea.” Then he swept his hair out of his eyes, sucked in a breath, and finally looked at her. “I wish I could have talked to you, though.”

She bit her tongue, knowing what she was about to say next would disappoint her best friend so much, but she had to. “So do I.”

Harry looked taken aback before his lips curled into a smile. “It’s silly, isn’t it? I haven’t talked to you in a year, and I feel like I know everything that’s happened to you except that I don’t.”

What he’d just said might make no sense for most people, but Y/N knew exactly what he meant. She nodded and wetted her lip. “You only know as much as everyone else does.”

“Yeah, I got updates on you from the news and our friends.”

“Same.” Y/N smiled back. “I hate how they write articles about your new haircut but not mine.”

“I like your new hair colour.”

“Thanks. I like your new car.”

Then they both burst out laughing. It was fun and also a little bit strange that Y/N didn’t feel the same anxiety talking to him as she used to. It must be because they had grown and were now meeting again as better people.

“Damn, my ride's here,” Y/N said as she read the text from her driver. “I gotta go now.”

“Oh, okay.” Harry stood up and followed Y/N to the entrance. “Hey, just wondering--”

“Yeah?”

“Am I...am I still blocked?” He looked a bit flustered as she tilted her head and squinted her eyes. “On your phone. Because I remember you having my number blocked--”

“I unblocked you on your birthday.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah.” Y/N shrugged. “I should’ve sent you a happy birthday text but...I didn’t want your girlfriend to get the wrong ideas.”

“My ex.”

“Yeah, I know.”

They smiled at each other one last time before saying goodbye. Y/N knew it was silly, but she was hoping he would go after her.

Ding.

A notification popped up when she was in the car. She was almost home, and it was from Harry’s number. He’d sent her a link with a message that said, “Hope you like it :)”.

Curious, she tapped on it and was directed to an audio file titled ‘Track 5’. The upload date was last year. About two weeks after their short conversation at the Grammys.

Hurriedly, she fumbled inside her bag for her iPods and put it on before she pressed play.

“Hey, Jeff, I couldn’t sleep so I wrote this song. Listen and let me know if it should go on the album.”

Then came the piano intro. It sounded good, so Y/N wondered how it hadn’t ended up on his last album.

But when he started to sing...

We ended a while ago Your friends are mine, you know, I know You've moved on, found someone new One more guy who brings out the better in you

And I thought my heart was detached From all the sunlight of our past But he’s so nice, he’s so funny Does he mean you forgot about me?

Oh, I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

And does he tell you you’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen? An eternal love bullshit he might not even mean Remember when you were with me I meant it when you heard it first from me

And now I'm pickin' him apart Like cuttin' him down will make you miss my wretched heart But he’s charming, he looks kind He probably gives you butterflies

I hope you're happy But not like how you were with me I'm selfish, I know, I can't let you go So find someone great, but don't find no one better

I hope you're happy I wish you all the best, really Say you love him, baby Just not like you loved me And think of me fondly when your hands are on him I hope you're happy, but don't be happier

The song was for her. He’d written it when her new relationship had gone public. Y/N sat there, staring blankly ahead until the honking of a car tore open her inner peace, and reality came crashing back in. The driver dropped her off at her house. Instead of going inside, she stood on her front steps and replayed the song one more time. When it ended, she decided to text him: Why didn’t this make it to the album?

She didn’t know where he was now, but it showed ‘typing’ in less than a second, as if he’d been waiting in their chat since he’d sent that link.

You would’ve hated me, Y/N.

True, she replied. Still, I would’ve loved the song lowkey. And added, I love it btw.

He took so long to type that it was driving her crazy. She flopped down on the concrete stair with her phone clutched in her hands, her heart thundering against her ribcage. Anxiety popped like a balloon when his message appeared: Were you happier?

She reread it again and again.

No.

I wasn’t either, he responded. I kept getting deja vu.

Ha, nice reference.

That song is my guilty pleasure. Love listening to you roasting me on loop.

That last message made Y/N bury her face into her palm and giggle like a fool. She thought for a second and wrote: I could come roast you in person now if that’s what you prefer. I think we’ve never had a proper roasting.

Can we meet, Y/N? Or are you busy now?

No, not busy.

Great, I’ll pick you up.

Just tell me where, she responded with a smile on her face. I got my drivers license now :)

#harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles fic

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lumosinlove · 4 years ago

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Vaincre

It’s here!! Thank you all for the support of this universe, it truly means so very much to me. Every time I get a comment, or get to read the fan fiction you all write, see the art you create...it just fills me with so much joy. I’m so excited to share the Sweater Weather sequel with you, Vaincre! Go Lions!

cw: brief mention of past injury and past abuse

part i: July

I’ve been holding my breath

I’ve been counting to ten

The media wasn’t kind. There were network shows and blogs. Magazines and papers and podcasts. Not to mention Twitter.

Remus had heard his name on all of them, even if he wasn’t listening. It was part of Alice’s job to make sure he knew what was being said about him. It was his job to tune most of it out. Some outrage. Some elation. Some confusion.

This is my question, one podcast asked. I mean, I’m happy for Black. Lupin, too. I’m happy for the hockey world to have this happen, it’s about time, I mean, tune it, come on, and all that.

I’m confused about the, you know, ‘let’s put the PT on the roster.’ I’ve seen college clips, like, those have been released, we know that he got injured, we know all that. He’s fast, we know that, too. But a lot of guys are fast.

Just…what a move by Coach Weasley. A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Remus had always loved to run. It cleared his head. It had been one of the forms of exercise he had been able to do first once his shoulder had healed, before weights or any sort of strength training. His therapists had recommended it. Endorphins, they had said.

But Remus liked it because it was the closest he had been able to get to gliding on the ice, even when he still couldn’t stand to even look at a rink.

A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Remus was used to not knowing. He was beginning to think he thrived on it. Would he play hockey again? Would he ever find love? Would Sirius want him?

Was this really happening?

He didn’t think of dreams as coming so late, but, then again, why should dreams be put on any sort of time schedule?

Now, he banged out the screen door and onto the rickety, well-loved porch of the lake house that had been passed down through his family for years. His mother and her brothers split it up in the summer, overlapping for a week or so, and there were always little gifts left behind for each family at the trade-off. A bottle of the best maple syrup, or some of the local honey. They were small, but Remus smiled when he saw what his uncle and aunt and cousins had left for him and Sirius after his parents and Julian had given them the month of July with the house to themselves. A little flower arrangement with two hockey sticks, carved out of wood, sticking up in the middle.

Sirius had plucked one from the dirt, twirled it over in his fingers, and smiled.

“Your family will never stop surprising me.”

Green Lake was deep, prime for fishing, and gorgeous. The smell of the water, of the soil and sweet summer air was as good as home to Remus. He breathed it in now as he bent to lace up his sneakers. He could smell the fire pit that they had lit last night, one that he and Julian had roasted thousands of marshmallows over.

“I showed Jules how to roast the perfect marshmallow here,” Remus had said that first July night, leaning back against Sirius’ chest.

Sirius had blew out his burnt-black one. “Like this?”

Remus had scoffed. “No, you heathen.”

Sirius looked good here, surrounded by the woods and rusty cabin, wearing the old fleeces that never seemed to leave this place for when the sun had yet to warm the chilly mornings. Some mornings, they’d make their coffee, tangle their socked feet together on the small couch until the sun began to get high and they’d strip it all off in favor of swimsuits and sunscreen. Other mornings, Remus would rise, pressing a gentle kiss to Sirius’ sleeping face, and take to the dirt road that ran around the lake.

Sirius, just off of the hard won playoffs, needed to rest. Remus needed to train.

A good move? I don’t know. I really don’t know.

They would leave in two days for Pascal’s Cup Day celebration, and then to meet Remus’ parents, his little brother Julian, and Regulus back in Gryffindor for Sirius’ Cup Day. And August training. Remus stretched his hands to his toes and closed his eyes. A strange type of adrenaline filled him whenever he thought about practicing with the team, about the fitness tests that would come first. He’d have to prove himself again and again. He wanted to. But part of him wondered what would happen if he couldn’t.

The screen door squeaked open and shut again, and Remus jumped, looking up to find Sirius, still sleep rumpled, standing there in running shorts.

Remus laughed, reaching up to trace a pillow crease in his cheek. “You’re supposed to be sleeping in while you can.”

Sirius let out a grumbly sort of yawn and gathered his hair, long from the summer and just brushing his chin now, back into a small half-up bun.

“I can’t believe you do this before coffee.”

“Too acidic. Gives you running stitches.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sirius sighed, and threw his arm around Remus’ shoulders as they walked up the steep driveway to the road.

Remus kissed his wrist. “I’ll miss being here with you.”

Sirius smiled. He was tan from the summer, hair dark as ever and his skin sun-kissed.

Remus leaned into his shoulder. “I mean look at you. I like seeing you this relaxed.”

Sirius bit his lip as the rounded a bend, waving at Mrs. Barrow, who was tending to her garden.

“I don’t think I knew I could be this relaxed,” Sirius admitted. “It was always train, train, train, you didn’t get a Cup, try harder.”

Remus was familiar with the notes that appeared in Sirius’ voice now from years of Sirius’ small slips in conversation, even when, to Remus, Sirius had only been they youngest captain in the league, cold and reserved from even more years of his father’s abusive, relentless attitude towards hockey and Sirius’ skills. Even when Remus had only been the team’s physical therapist, closeted, crushing on Sirius, and surprised by the cracks Sirius showed when he had gotten his ankle smashed by Severus Snape, Captain of the Slytherin Snakes—the Gryffindor Lions greatest rivalry. Pain, it had seemed, and fear of never stepping on the ice again, had given Remus his first glimpses into a different Sirius beneath it all, a boy who was filled with much more than just a need to win, but for whom the want of winning only made him love his sport, and his team, more.

“And now that you have a Cup?” Remus asked. “How’re you feeling?”

They came to the road and Sirius balanced on one foot, stretching his thigh. “Now that I have you,” he said. “I’m feeling just fine.”

Remus snorted. “Yeah, the Stanley Cup Champion part has nothing to do with it.”

Sirius laughed, but took Remus’ face between his palms. “If I didn’t have you, and I had only a Cup, all I would be doing right now is thinking about another Cup.”

Remus put a hand on his chest, fingers finding the number twelve pendant that rested there.

“Now, there’s more,” Sirius said simply, and leaned down for a tender kiss. “Like your mother’s peach pie.”

Remus punched him in the arm as Sirius laughed loudly.

“You’ll have to beat me if you want a slice of that!” Remus called as he took off.

Sirius made a wounded noise, but sprinted after him until they were side by side again.

“I don’t think I can leave this beach,” Leo mumbled into the lounging cabana they were spread out beneath, and Logan looked down at him from where he was reading—trying to read—one of the books Finn had given him. He didn’t know how many books Finn had tried to get him to read over the years, but he knew he never made it through more than a few pages without looking up, getting distracted, or having to go back.

“Non?” Logan asked.

Leo shook his head. “The sun. The sea. I’m in heaven.”

“What about hockey?”

“Brr.”

Logan laughed and settled back into the pillows, setting the book aside and rolling towards Leo to feel his sun-warmed back and leaned down to kiss his temple. A private beach definitely had its perks—and so did three hockey salaries.

“We’ll just stay here, then.”

They’d had a good summer. Leo’s Cup Day, Finn’s, his own, all in their hometowns and accompanied by large parades and fanfare. Logan had finally gotten to take Leo home to his sisters and parents for the first time. It had been nice to see Finn around his family again, too, after what felt like eons of avoiding him in that small gap between being at Harvard and then them both making it to the NHL, and to the Lions.

Leo’s sleepy smile up at him melted Logan like ice in the sun.

“Okay, good,” Leo said, then his eyes went behind Logan. “There’s the ghost-on-toast with our drinks.”

Logan snorted and looked up to see Finn—and Finn’s tiny blue swim shorts that he insisted weren’t see-through—walking towards them through the sand from the resort bar with a tray of drinks in his hands.

“Hey, lover-nuts,” Finn said as he set the tray down in the shade. “Got us some snacks, too. That bar tender loves me.”

“You are so pale,” Leo laughed. “I love you, though, please put more sunscreen on.”

“Keep your sandy feet off my towel,” Logan nudged Finn’s foot with his own as he reached for his drink. Finn just smiled and nodded at the book.

“How is it?” Finn asked.

Logan just looked at him.

He laughed and ran a hand through Logan’s salty, damp hair. “I know. I’ll read it to you later. I just thought you might want something for the beach!”

Logan held up his cocktail. “I have something for the beach.”

They settled back under their cabana, the thin, white linen curtains fluttering around them in the three o’clock breeze. Maybe Logan, as he closed his eyes between Leo and Finn, Leo’s hand still on his thigh, Finn’s arm pillowing the back of his neck, never wanted to leave this beach, either.

“Back to Gryffindor tomorrow,” Logan said.

“Group chat says most guys’ll be back this week,” Finn said, squinting at his phone over his sunglasses. “We gotta be back for Dumo’s, and then Cap’s Cup Day. That’ll be nice, man.”

“I like that they’re bringing it to Gryffindor Pride,” Leo said, rolling onto his back. “Should have thought of that. Or, I guess…” Leo trailed off and Logan frowned. They couldn’t do that. Not yet, at least. Leo caught Logan’s expression and rested a reassuring hand on his thigh. “I’m glad we get to go, even if its for them on the surface. That’s real thoughtful of them, you know?”

Logan nodded. It was thoughtful. When Remus and Sirius had brought it up to them, he’d found himself getting a little choked up.

“We want you guys to be able to experience that, too,” Remus had said. “If you want. No matter what you decide to do public-wise in the future.”

Finn clicked his phone off and chucked it to the side. “Hey, don’t take me off island time yet. We’ll order to the room, eat on the deck, hike up and stargaze…”

Finn rattled off the perfect list, tilting towards Logan until their lips met.

“And then we’ll go win another Cup.”

Leo and Logan punched him at the same time.

Thomas sat in the shade with Kasey as they watched Alex try to take on Natalie and Noelle at pool basketball.

“I really think they’re going to accidentally drown him,” Thomas said thoughtfully.

“He probably thinks that, too, and is just too competitive to stop,” Kasey replied.

Thomas laughed, and held out his beer to cheers.

“This is a nice house the O’Haras have, man,” he looked at the sparkling ocean beyond the steps and fence, and at the pool with the grill and lounge chairs. They’d only come up for the weekend, between training and visiting their own families, and before returning to Gryffindor for the season.

“Tell me about it.”

“Cheating!” Alex spluttered from the pool as Natalie put all of her weight on him to dunk him under the water. Alex pointed very seriously to the foot marker on the side tile. “We agreed from that to Thomas’ chair, I was too far away!”

“Too bad!” Noelle shouted as she made another basket.

Thomas didn’t think it was the alcohol that made him feel a little fuzzy at the edges as he looked over her in her swimsuit. She was all curves of tanned muscle, softened the summer around her stomach and arms. Thomas was a goner. But she seemed pretty gone, too, so he guessed it was all right.

“This moment’s always rough,” Kasey said softly from beside him, and when Thomas looked at him questioningly, he gestured vaguely with his beer. “The end of July. One more month, but not really. Alex’ll go back for training, you know? It’s like a trick. I always think, I get three months with these two. But it’s more like two and the first week of August.”

Thomas nodded. “I know. Noelle, too. Her training camp starts on the eight. I’m just…”

Kasey sighed in sympathy.

“At least you have Nat, you know?” Thomas said. “Not that I’m saying you have it easier, I just…”

Kasey shook his head. “I know. Believe me, I’m thankful for that every day. But…when you miss someone, you miss someone.”

Thomas nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, exactly.”

Last season hadn’t been too bad. His relationship with Noelle had been new. They only really knew FaceTime dates, and squeezed in weekend flights that sometimes left them more exhausted than sated. They had been taking it slow. Thomas had been kissed by Noelle—a lot. Enough to make him dizzy with it. Only, then she’d met him at the airport in Quebec, they’d spent a month with her family in France…

And Thomas wasn’t sure he knew how to do just FaceTime anymore. There was a new yearning, knotted just below his heart. He knew what her skin felt like under his hands now, knew what she looked like right when she waked up, even her skincare routine before bed. It would feel like being away from the ice for too long, the knot pulling tight. He thought this year was going to be harder. Maybe he knew it, but if he did, he was pretending it might be easy still.

“T,” Noelle called, floating on her back, dark hair fanned out in the water. “C’mere!”

Thomas smiled, setting his drink down. He would come, whenever she called. Wherever.

Cole Reyes didn’t know if Adele Dumais staring at him the way she was was a good thing, or a bad thing. He was nervous enough without the seemingly disapproval of Pascal Dumais'—the Pascal Dumais of the Gryffindor Lions, oldest player in the league—teenage daughter.

“Don’t you talk?” Marc, one of his sons, asked.

Cole blinked. “Uh. Yeah. Yeah.”

Adele waved her brother off. “They’re always super nervous at first. Remember Sirius?”

Marc scoffed. “I was a baby.”

Cole let out a breath. Now they were casually talking about Sirius Black, who had lived in the very room Cole had been sleeping in for a week now when he was a rookie, too. It was the same with Logan Tremblay. He felt like he needed to keep the room pristine, like he was living in some Hockey Hall of Fame museum that he had not earned the right to be in yet.

“You’re still a baby,” Adele shot back.

“Kids,” came Celeste, Pascal’s wife’s voice from where she was setting the table. “Come on now.”

“Sorry, maman,” Marc said softly.

“Sorry,” Adele sighed more reluctantly.

“Go help your father with the grill, you two,” she said. “Everyone will be arriving soon.”

Katie, Celeste and Pascal’s youngest daughter, perked up from where she was sitting beside Cole, drawing. Not Pascal, Dumo—Cole kept having to remind himself that he could call Pascal by his nickname now, that it was all official, that he was a Gryffindor Lion, too. Katie hadn’t left his side since he arrived a week ago to billet with the Dumais, and he still wasn’t sure what to make of it.

“Even the Cup?” she asked.

Celeste laughed. “Oui, ma cherie. Cole? Would you mind going to get the flowers for the table? They’re on the kitchen counter, just inside.”

“Oh, sure, Mrs. Dumais,” Cole nodded, glad for something to do. The thought of the Cup arriving gave him the chills. He’d have to be careful not to touch it. He was scared to even look at it, to be honest. His mom would be laughing at him right about now. He wanted to call her afterwards, tell her everything.

“Call me Celeste, I told you, please,” Celeste smiled. She was lovely, with her dark hair twisted and clipped up and a summer dress as green as her eyes, silky against her olive skin.

Cole flushed, but smiled. “Celeste.”

Cole made his way through the sliding door from the back yard and through the dining room. The kitchen was one of the biggest rooms in the house—and it was a big house. Beautiful copper pans hung shining above the island, along with some herbs that Celeste grew and dried herself. It looked like something out of a magazine to Cole, and it was nice, but it wouldn’t beat his mom’s kitchen in the small apartment they shared in Boston. The small space would fill up to the brim with the smell of spices, or cobbler. The thought sent a pang right to his heart. He missed home, that was for sure. After being away for so long, for so many hockey camps, he’d hoped he would be more used to it by now.

The flowers were right where Celeste had said they would be, and he was reaching for one when the back door that led to the garage dinged open. Cole froze, sure that he was about to run into captain Sirius Black completely unprepared, when a girl stepped through instead. She was dressed in denim shorts and a white tank top, had dark brown skin, and a Gryffindor College hat over her hair, which was plaited back into many small braids.

She smiled when she saw him. No sign of surprised, or of the nervousness Cole felt when he met basically anyone.

“You must be Cole,” she said.

Cole nodded. The girl was gorgeous. Cole was a mess of nerves already. He didn’t need the stare of the teenage daughter of one of his idols, but he especially could not handle a beautiful girl right now.

“Yeah,” Cole said. “No, yeah, um. Yes.”

The girl strode forward, setting her bag down on the counter, along with a water bottle decorated in stickers. He caught a few Lions ones. She offered her hand, which was slender and had two golden rings on it. “I’m Layla. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Cole took it, trying to place her. “Nice to meet you.”

“Oh, I babysit for the Dumais family,” she said in explanation, then waved her hand. “Well, this year, at least. I’m actually—we’re going to be working together.”

Cole blinked. “You mean the Lions?”

She nodded. “I’m in the middle of my undergrad for physical therapy. Dumo’s amazing and he got me an internship under the new PT. You know. I’ll probably get you stick tape or something,” she laughed. “Congrats, by the way.”

Cole tilted his head and she raised an eyebrow.

“On making it to the NHL?”

“Oh,” Cole laughed. “Oh, I, yeah, thanks. You, too—or…yeah.”

Cole was going to stay in his room in the basement and never come out.

“I gotta—Mrs. Du—Celeste wants these flowers outside,” he said, picking the vases up.

“Sure thing,” Layla smiled.

“Layla,” came a shriek, and a moment later Katie Dumais came sprinting into the kitchen and wrapped herself around Layla’s legs and smiled at Cole. “This is my new hockey player.”

Cole couldn’t help but laugh. He didn’t have a lot of experience with kids, but Katie sure was cute.

“Yours?” Layla gasped as she smiled at Cole. “He’s all yours, is he?”

Katie nodded. “Like Tremzy and Sirius. His name is Cole, like when Santa Clause doesn’t like you.”

Again, with the casual mentions of Logan Tremblay and Sirius Black.

“Oh, of course,” Layla laughed. “Well, I’m sure Santa Clause has never not liked you, babes. Let’s go let your mom know I’m here, okay? Your new hockey player can come with us, too.”

“He’s yours, too!” Katie insisted. “You’re here all the time, so he’s yours, too, don’t worry.”

“Oh, good,” Layla said. “I was worried.”

When Katie looked at Cole expectedly, Cole managed, “I guess everyone does need a hockey player?”

“Exactly!” Katie squealed, and Cole could only follow them outside, heart pounding.

It was good to be back in Gryffindor. Remus and Sirius had dropped their bags in Sirius’ entryway, said hello to Regulus, showered, and then hopped right back in the car to get to Pascal’s house.

“You two look disgustingly happy,” Regulus said, leaning forward from the back seat.

“We are,” Sirius grinned at him in the review mirror. “I am also happy,” he stroked the leather steering wheel of his Range Rover. “To be back with this baby.”

While Sirius’ hair had grown longer, Regulus had shaved his short. The curls were barely curls at all anymore, but Remus was happy to see that his seemingly ever-present dark circles had receded some.

“Why, thank you, Regulus, you look happy, too,” Remus snorted. “When do you leave for NYU’s orientation?”

“August 23rd,” he said. “Been texting with my housemates, too. They seem cool.”

“Maybe one of you will pull a Finn and fall in love with each other,” Sirius said.

“Twice,” Remus laughed, and Regulus did, too.

“I think I’ve had enough romance drama to last me a life time, thanks,” Regulus smiled. “But, yeah. I’m just…I’m focused on friends right now, I think. Normal, non-hockey creatures like you two. But that’s not to say if something came up…or I guess someone. Who knows.”

Sirius’ smile was softer this time. “Focus on whatever you want, Reg. You deserve it.”

Regulus just grumbled something about hockey gods, and then they were pulling up to the Dumais’. There were silver and white balloons lining the driveway and the fence to the backyard where, as Remus slammed his door, he could already hear laughter. A zing of excitement shot through him.

“I missed this team,” he sighed as Sirius took his hand.

Sirius pressed a kiss to his temple. “Your team.”

“Our team.”

“Jesus Christ,” Regulus said, and gave them a shove forward.

Thomas gave a loud woop when he spotted them coming out to the backyard. Regulus immediately made a B-line towards Leo and the Cubs.

“Yes! The Captain!” Thomas said and pulled Sirius into a hug. “Missed you, man.”

“You, too, T,” Sirius said. “Ready to tear it up?”

“You know it.”

Remus smiled as Thomas hugged him next. “I forgot you two train together before pre-season.”

“You two?” Thomas raised an eyebrow, the small gold hoops in his ears glinting in the sun. Remus noticed he’d shaved three stripes into one side of his head. They were a little wobbly. Maybe Noelle had done it. “You’re not coming with us?”

“You know how this one is about his routines,” Remus said, wrapping an arm around Sirius’ waist. “Wouldn’t want to mess anything up.”

“Please,” Sirius said. “I want you there more than I want a second—”

Remus and Thomas punched him at the same time.

“I know you weren’t just about to say that,” said an accented voice from behind Remus, and they turned to see Pascal standing there. He looked as he always did, smile lines around his eyes, gray streaks at his temples. He wore a white t-shirt and had Katie on his hip. She was definitely getting too big to be carried around like that, but Remus couldn’t see a time when Pascal would ever refuse her. He’d probably carry Adele around like that, too, if she’d let him.

“Dumo,” Sirius smiled, and took the two beers he was holding out, handing one to Remus. He kissed Katie’s forehead. “Good summer?”

“The best,” Pascal laughed, and nodded towards the edge of the yard. “Especially with the promise of seeing that thing again.”

Remus followed his gaze, and his breath caught, just as he knew it would. The Cup stood there, its guards near by with drinks and plates of food in their hands. It sat proudly on a table, surrounded by white tulips—no doubt Celeste’s doing.

“I’m excited to see you two bring it to the parade,” Pascal said. “That will be a wonderful day for everyone.”

Remus glanced at where Logan, Leo, and Finn were standing with Kasey Winter, Gryffindor’s goalie, and his partners Natalie, with her long blonde hair, and Finn’s brother Alex, who played for Tampa Bay.

Sirius’ smile lit up his face. “It will be.”

Remus peered around him. “Is that our rookie?”

Sirius scoffed. “A rookie can’t call a fellow rookie rookie, rookie.”

Remus blinked. “What did you just say?”

“That’s Cole!” Katie said. “I love him.” Then she turned and shouted his name again. He looked up from where he was standing quietly beside Jackson Nadeau, another player, and Remus suppressed a smile at the way his eyes widened when he saw Sirius.

“Oh, here we go,” Sirius mumbled.

“Oh, hush,” Remus said, and sounded far too much like his mother to himself. “You’re going to be throwing hands for him the second someone gets close, and you know it.”

“I don’t know how to tell rookies I’m just a person!” Sirius whispered as Cole began to make his way over. “They act all…”

“Star struck?” Thomas offered.

Sirius just glowered at him.

Cole Reyes did not look as young as he was. Even at 19, he was jacked, and tall, with light brown skin, green eyes, and a stripe shaved into one of his eyebrows. His hair was shaved at the sides, but longer on the top and in tight curls.

Remus glanced somewhat self-consciously down at himself. He could only put on more muscle healthily so fast. He thought he’d been doing well, but looking at Cole…

“Hello,” Cole said hesitantly and Pascal set Katie down and clapped Cole on the shoulder.

“Reyes, meet Sirius. Sirius, meet the boy who is a much better billet than you ever were.”

Sirius snorted, and Cole laughed—nervously.

“Hi, Cole,” Sirius said, and held out his hand. “I know we spoke briefly over the summer, but it’s nice to officially meet you.”

“You, too,” Cole said, smile slight. “Thanks for the call. My mom freaked out. I mean—well, me too, but my mom…” Cole stuttered out, wincing.

“Loves me?” Sirius laughed. “I get that a lot.”

“He’s so humble,” Remus shook his head jokingly. “Hi Cole, I’m Remus. Welcome to the team.”

“You too…?” Cole said hesitantly. “Well, the roster, I guess.”

“Cole,” Katie said, taking his large hand in her small one. “Come meet Tremzy. He’s my best friend.”

Sirius feigned a pout. “What about me?”

Katie smiled sheepishly, throwing herself at Sirius’ legs, “You, too!”

“Always one-uped by Tremblay,” Thomas laughed, shaking his head. “How’s it feel, Cap?”

“Wonderful,” Sirius said dryly and then looked down at Katie, petting her head. “Go on, go show Cole your best friend.”

They watched her lead Cole through the crowd for a moment before Sirius huffed.

“See?” Sirius whispered to Remus. “It’s like he’s scared of me.”

“I’ve never heard you use the phrase spoke briefly in my life. Who are you, Alice?”

“I was trying to be professional!”

Remus laughed. “Why?”

Sirius just rolled his eyes and dragged him over to stack their plates with food.

The party went well into the evening, the sky pink and blue in the setting sun. There were lanterns floating in the pool where Evgeni and Jackson were playing chicken with a delighted Marc and Louis, or sometimes one of Coach Arthur Weasley’s boys, on their shoulders. Logan was sitting with Cole and Finn, cradling a sleepy Katie against his chest, Leo and Regulus laughing with Kasey and Alex.

Remus found Sirius again standing alone in front of the Cup. His hair was falling into his face, the curls gentled by the evening breeze and the Cup’s silver surface reflecting the silver of Sirius’ eyes. Remus went to stand beside him, and neither of them spoke for a moment.

“I’m nervous,” Remus broke the silence.

Sirius nodded. “I know, mon loup.”

Remus sighed, resting his head against Sirius’ arm. “Yeah?”

“Of course,” Sirius switched his drink to his other hand so he could run his fingers through Remus’ hair. “This is…big.”

“It’s what I’ve always wanted,” Remus whispered. It felt dangerous, to say the words aloud. “It’s everything that I lost. Last time.”

Remus could still feel Fenrir Greyback rip at his shoulder, even if it was years ago now, while they were still at college. Being in the NHL meant that Remus would have to play against him again whenever they met Vegas.

Sirius turned towards him, hand on his cheek.

“You will have this,” he said earnestly, and then smile, reaching into his shirt for his necklace, the one Remus had gifted him last Christmas. He brought it to his lips. “Loops.”

Remus smiled at the now familiar sight, touching the pendant when Sirius’ let it drop.

“You know,” Remus said. “You’re everything I’ve always wanted, too.”

Sirius’ smile was one of Remus’ favorites, and he tucked him against his side. Remus followed his gaze to find him looking at Cole again.

“I’m not happy with the way it happened,” Sirius said softly, and Remus knew he was thinking of the pictures that someone had leaked of them kissing. The pictures that had upturned their entire lives. “But I’m glad I get to hold you like this in front of new faces. I wasn’t thinking about trades—I try not to—but getting Reyes, if things had been different, would have meant we were back to square one at parties like these.”

Remus nodded, taking a drink. “And he seemed okay with it. With us.”

“I was thinking we should invite him to train with us. With me, you, and T. Maybe Dumo would join, too. I know he usually goes with Sergei, but Sergei might be with Kuns and Nado, even though they usually like it just them. The Cubs—”

“Okay, Captain, okay,” Remus laughed.

Sirius pressed a hand over his eyes, laughing. “I just don’t like it when they’re nervous around me. Like Leo was. It’s so much better now that we’re friends.”

“You’ll get there with him,” Remus said. “Yeah, invite him to train with us. The more the merrier.”

Secretly, Remus wanted to see how Cole trained. He couldn’t shake the analytical side of him, the physical therapist side. Cole was built for such a young age.

“If I didn’t know better,” Sirius said softly, mouth close to Remus’ ear. “I’d say you were checking him out.”

Remus spluttered. “I’m not! I want to know his routine!”

Sirius cracked up. “This is your superstition, isn’t it? Cracking other player’s codes.”

Remus just shrugged, smiling into his cup.

“Have you cracked my code?” Sirius asked in the low voice he used that made Remus not want to be surrounded by people.

Remus looked up at him. “Maybe. It certainly has nothing to do with a piece of toast at five o’clock.”

“My pre-game toast is very important to me.”

Remus leaned up to press a quick kiss to his lips. “No, you just like honey and cinnamon.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “Okay, I’m going to talk to Reyes now.”

“Catch him if he passes out.”

Sirius just glowered over his shoulder as he stalked across the grass. Remus looked around at the back yard, at the team, together again. His team.

451 notes · View notes

itzyourgirlnat · 3 years ago

Text

Not a science fan

It’s a monday evening, you and Kara are eating peacefully.

‘So, your school called me this morning’ she said while eating.

You immediately stopped eating and raised your head to look at her.

‘whatever they said I did it wasn’t me’

‘What? Kid, no! You didn't do anything wrong’ she stopped for a second ‘Did you?’

‘No! of course not’ you said while choking a bit.

‘Anyways, they called me to know if you were attending “the ceremony” this Saturday. It seems that you didn't confirm your attendance?’

‘oh, OOH’ Of course, the ceremony, you completely forgot about it.

The thing is that when this school year began, you were supposed to take physics. However, you hated it. Ok, you didn't hate it, but you definitely weren’t a fan (which is hilarious since your mom is literally one of the best scientists on the planet). But the funniest part was that even your teacher knew, actually it was him who recommended you to quit his class. At first you were shocked because science is something you’ve always done, what could you do instead of that? That’s when he suggested the newspaper along with a class specialised on writing. It is true that you’ve always been good at writing stories, but you never considered taking it seriously.

Anyways, literally the next day instead of learning about physics you’re learning the basic elements of a storyline. The surprising part was that after that class, you completely fell in love with it and, since then, you started working on a simple storyline that ended up being much more complex and longer than you expected. You wanted to talk to your moms about it, but when all happened you weren’t seeing them that much, and once you were, you just didn't have the courage to do it. A thing that stopped you was that both Kara and Lena were geniuses when it comes to science. But the main problem was with Lena, you’ve spent so much time with her in her lab in L-Corp, and even if you didn't enjoy it as much as her, every time you spent with her there was such a bonding experience that you couldnt tell the truth. So you just avoid the topic, even if you knew that one day they would find out.

Going back to the ceremony, that story you first started writing ended up becoming a book. A novel that you had to present in order to pass the class. What you weren’t aware of at the time was that the best ones would compete in a contest that involved schools from all National city. And, last week, you were given the news that your story was one of the finalists.

While you were scolding yourself mentally for not declining the invitation Kara had put all the food away and was now cleaning.

‘What’s that ceremony?’ she questioned while turning around to look at you

‘It’s nothing’

‘Y/N’

You sighed

‘I wasn’t planning on going anyways’

She did the famous crickle and that’s when Lena entered the kitchen

‘Hi loves’ she kissed Kara and then kissed you cheek.

‘What are you two talking about?’

‘Your daughter was invited to a ceremony’

‘Really? what is it about?’ she questioned

‘It's nothing, just an award ceremony’ you got up and started walking towards your room.

‘Wait, so you are nominated for something?’

‘It seems like it’ you sighed ‘but it's nothing and I wasn't planning on going’

`Why?’ Kara asked

‘What for? I’m not gonna win and I don't really care if I do’ you walked towards the door

‘Well I do,’ Lena said. ‘Can we go?’

‘The principal told me that we could’ Kara said

‘Guys it's really not necessary’

‘Of course it is!’ Kara said

‘Wait, is it that science competition?’ Lena asked

Oh no

‘Emm no’

‘Then what is it?’

They both looked at you. You took a deep breath

‘Its, its justforasillybookIwroteforaclass’ you said as fast as you could

‘Wait wait , wait, what?’ Lena said

‘Did you say you wrote a book?’ Kara said walking towards you

‘Umm yeah’

‘Why didn’t you tell us?!’

‘When did you say the ceremony was?’ Lena asked

‘Saturday. Y/N why didn’t you say anything?’

You were about to answer when Alex called her sister. Soon enough she had to leave for a Supergirl emergency. Thank Rao

‘We’ll talk about this later’ she said before leaving

You were already going to you room when Lena called you to sit with her

‘So, Y/N, for what class did you have to write the book for?’ she said, raising her brow. Oh no, she knows, she totally knows

‘Please don't get mad’ you said

‘Why would I?’

‘Ok, so, its for a writing class that I’m taking’

‘Really?’

You nodded

‘Why would that make me mad?’

‘Because I’m taking it instead of physics. Sorry I didn’t tell you, I swear I’ll join physics again if you want me too’ You looked away from her expecting an angry response. Surprisingly, she grabbed your hand and squished it gently

‘Y/N, I know’

‘What?’

‘Did you really think you could just change your classes without me finding out?’

‘Yes?’

She chuckled

‘Of course not. in fact your physics teacher told me about the newspaper and the writing class before telling you’

‘So, YOU’VE KNOWN ALL THIS TIME?’

She was now laughing hard, but she soon hugged you. After some minutes she let go of you and placed a lock of you hair behind you ear

‘and you’re not mad?’

‘No! I mean, it did hurt that you didn’t tell us but, it's your life and if you prefer to attend that class I support your decision’

‘I’m sorry. I just didn’t wanna make you feel disappointed and-’

‘What? Honey, you know you could never disappoint me’

‘I know, it's just that science in general is something that you really enjoy and that I’m supposed to be good at. But it also made us spend a lot of time together at L-Corp. And, I love spending time with you, I guess I didn't want that to end’

‘Oh Y/N. Look, just because I enjoy science doesn't mean you have to like it too. Besides, spending time together doesn’t have to involve science. When I take you to L-Corp it's nothing more than an excuse to spend time with you. But we could do other things, all I care about is spending time with you’

It was now your turn to hug her.

You cuddled for a while and when you were about to fall asleep in her arms she asked ‘Why didn’t you tell mom? I mean writing is kind of her thing’

‘I was planning on doing so, but I’m not very good at it, and I wanted to improve before I show her’

‘What did we tell you about being perfect Y/N?’

‘I know, but ieu is a Pulitzer winner. I doubt I’ll ever be at her level but I wanted it to be at least presentable before showing it to her. I want her to be proud’

She caressed your cheek

‘She’ll always be proud of you. Well except if you murder someone or do something very terrible like that’

You laughed at her comment

‘But I’m sure she’s dying to read it’

‘Thanks mom’

She kissed your forehead and at that moment through the window Kara entered

‘Hi guys’

‘Hi’ you both said turning your heads to look at her

You looked at Lena, who somehow guessed what you were thinking (like always) and nodded

‘I wanna show you something’ you said to Kara before sprinting towards your room. Before anyone could say anything you were already back with a your book in your hands

‘Here’ you said giving it to Kara ‘The binding is pretty simple but the full final story is in there’

She was looking at the novel in her hands

‘You wrote this?’ her eyes were starting to water

‘Yeah. Please have mercy while reading it, its not -’

‘It's perfect’ she then hugged you harder than she had done in a long time 'I'm sure it is'

‘Does this mean you’ll go to the award ceremony?’ Lena ask

‘I mean I have nothing better to do this Saturday’

That same night Kara started reading your book. It was actually 3 am when you woke up to go to the bathroom when you saw a light coming from their bedroom. You walked towards the light and saw Kara still reading your book out loud with Lena on her lap listening. They were so invested in the story that they didn’t even notice you. You decided to give them some privacy and went back to your room.

The next day you were so nervous, you knew that they had been reading your book but were too scared to ask for their opinion. Luckily between school and practice you didn't have time to think much about it. After a long day you finally got home and as soon as you entered the door both of your moms ran to you.

‘Y/N! when Rory is at the cave under the fire palace and gives Camila the silver stone and tells her that is her turn to take care of it, does it mean he has accepted that he won’t see her again?’ Kara asked very seriously

But before you could answer her question Lena asks ‘But if that is true why does he continue to deny the fact that he won’t be able to see her again during the next four chapters?’

You chuckled ‘Wait you’ve already read it all?’

‘Yeah and we have questions so please tell us’ Kara asked

You spent around an hour answering all their questions about your book. This made you incredibly happy since they were both so into it

‘You’re gonna write a sequel right?’

‘I wasn’t planning on doing so’

‘WHAT?!

‘But Y/N it's not only an incredible story but the way you portray society and all the critiques you make are perfectly made. I mean this is more than a fantasy story’ Kara exclaimed and at that moment you couldn’t hold it anymore and started crying. She panicked and hugged you immediately

‘Did I say something wrong?’ she asked very worried

‘Do you really like it that much?’ you asked

‘Of course I do! Not only because you wrote it but because it is really good’

‘Then I’ll have to write another one’

‘Please do’ Lena said ‘And no pressures but don't take long because I need to know if Rowan survives’

You all laughed

‘I knew you'd like him’

It was three days later, Saturday evening, you were all getting ready to go to the award ceremony. A week ago you didn’t care about this event, but now, after your moms read your work, you were really nervous. You walked to the kitchen with the outfit you had chosen earlier (a dress or a suit,... something elegant of your choice).

‘Wow, you look great’ Lena said

‘Like mother like daughter I guess’

She winked at you. Soon enough you were all in the car and suddenly you were already sat in the auditory surrounded by other nominees and even a couple press members.

‘Nervous?’ Kara asked who was on your right

‘Kind of’

‘Don’t be’ Lena who was on your left held your hand

A few categories were announced and yours was the next

‘Hey, whatever happens we’re very proud of you’ Kara said

The following things happened very quickly. Suddenly your name was called and you were walking towards the stage after Lena literally crushed you with a hug. And five seconds later you were with the second prize in your hands. Once many pictures were taken you were walking down towards your moms when a man in what looked like a very expensive suit approached you

‘Congratulations’ he said

‘Thank you’

‘I’m Anthony Lee’

‘Ar-are you serious? you’re the owner of one of the most important publishing houses of the city’

He chuckled

‘I see you know who I am’

You were about to reply when you heard Kara calling you.

‘I don’t want to take much of your time, just wanted to ask you to continue writing, you’ve clearly inherited your mothers ability with words’

You blushed

‘Well thank you’

He gave you a card with a phone number and an email

‘Please, if write something else send it to this email and one day we may work together’

With that he kindly said goodbye and left. You then walked towards your moms and Kara immediately hugged you.

‘Y/N you did it! I’m so proud of you!’

‘Congratulations darling’ Lena said squeezing your arms

‘Thank you guys’

‘Who was that man that approached you?’ Kara said

‘That was Anthony Lee’ you said

‘No way!’ Kara replied

‘Emm a bit of context please?’ Lena said

‘He’s the owner of one of the biggest publishing houses of the city!’ Kara said almost jumping

‘He told me to send some of my future work so that one day we can work together’ you said blushing once more

‘Are you serious?!’ Lena said

You nodded. Immediately they both hugged you and somehow Alex was soon hugging you and then Kelly (it turns out your moms couldn’t hold it and told almost everyone about the ceremony). You then went to a restaurant to celebrate and had an amazing time with everyone.

Once in your car on your way home you said ‘Hey guys?’

‘Yes baby?’

‘Thanks for making me go, it was really fun’

‘Well, we didn't do you much. You were the one who won’ Lena said

‘I got second place’

‘Same thing to me’ she replied to which you all laughed.

It had really been a very unexpected week.

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

Hi !! Just wanted to let you all know that you can send me request anytime and that the ones that I already have received will be done as soon as possible :)

(thanks for all the support btw I really appreciate it)

#supergirl #supercorp x daughter!reader #supercorp wifes #supercorp parents #supergirl imagine #kara danvers #lena luthor #supercorp x reader #lena luthor x reader #kara danvers x reader #fluff #kara danvers x daughter!reader #lena luthor x daughter! reader

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ppangjae · 4 years ago

Text

THE STORY UNTOLD | Jaehyun

SEVEN LETTERS | THE STORY UNTOLD

SUMMARY. Jaehyun finds himself catching feelings for you, his best friend. But the problem is that he’s in a relationship with someone else. In hopes of receiving a sign, the last sign he expects to receive is a letter. A letter from his future self.

GENRE. soulmate!au | childhood friends to lovers!au | fluff | angst

WORD COUNT. 6.6k+ words

author’s note. BEFORE you read this, i strongly suggest you read Seven Letters. this is a sequel to that fic. if you haven’t read Seven Letters, you’re probably going to get really confused when you read this sequel. also, i just wanted to say a huge thank you to everyone who read Seven Letters. the amount of feedback i got is just so overwhelming and i never expected things to turn out like this omg. happy reading!

—Future

This is impossible.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

Johnny frowns. “Like that.”

Jaehyun lets out a scoff. Johnny lets out a soft snort, shaking his head at his best friend who’s sitting across from his desk. Johnny adjusts his glasses before clasping his hands on the table. “Do you not believe me or something?”

“This feels stupid. No, this is stupid.” Jaehyun mutters, gesturing at the blank piece of paper on the desk. “You want me to write a letter to my past self? About what?”

“You do know that I charge my patients an extra fifty bucks for every half hour past their scheduled appointment time.” Johnny reminds me. “If I were you, save your fifty bucks and start writing your letter.”

“Stop lying, you don’t do that.” Jaehyun scoffs again. “What is a stupid letter to my past self gonna do? Change my future?”

Johnny points at him. “Bingo.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

“Why don’t you just try it? Besides, if it doesn’t change your future, at least you did yourself some self-counselling. Closure. Don’t you want closure?” Johnny folds his arms. He has a point. “As your best friend, I care about you. But I’m tired of having you come here for counselling sessions.”

“You’re not helping—”

“Just give a try! God, you make me want to pull my hair off my scalp and I’m already losing hair from all the stress you’ve been giving me since your divorce.”

—Present

“Jaehyun, you have mail!”

His mother is waving an envelope in the air just as he steps out on the front porch. He squints his eyes at the envelope with suspicion. “Who sends letters these days? We live in a world where technology is evolving—”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just take your mail, Jaehyun.” His mother disregards his ramble by placing the envelope into his hands. “Your father wants us to make a trip to the grocery store. Do you want us to get you something?”

“I’m good,” he replies. He’s too busy staring at the familiar handwriting on the envelope. The strong familiarity bothers him.

As his parents are hopping into the car and pulling out of the parkway, Jaehyun’s heading back inside of the house. He’s gently closing the door shut before making a beeline for the kitchen. He pulls out the kitchen scissors and cuts the envelope open.

“Why is this letter so thick?” He thinks aloud, pulling out a 10-page letter. “If this letter isn’t life changing and if I waste my time reading a thick ass letter, I might just combust—”

He stops mid-sentence when he finally realizes it. It’s his handwriting. He’s confused. Why would he send himself a letter? In fact, why would he send himself a 10-page letter when he can literally just type it all out in an email instead? He tilts his head in confusion. He decides to start reading it.

To Jaehyun,

Don’t be alarmed. You recognize the handwriting, right? It’s because it is your handwriting.

I am you from the future.

You’re probably wondering how and why you’re getting this letter. Trust me, I’m not even sure if you’ll get this letter. But if you do, then damn, what the flipping fuck?

Read this letter carefully because it will be a lot to take in.

He lets out a laugh. Is he going crazy? Him from the future? Sending him a handwritten letter? For what? What kind of sick joke is this and who is pulling it? Who is the culprit? Oh right, it’s him from the future.

I made the biggest mistake and I need you to fix it.

Do you remember Y/N, your childhood best friend? Y/N is your soulmate. You are destined to be with her. As I write this letter to you, I have lost almost all forms of communication with Y/N.

I made the biggest mistake of falling in love with someone else. I fell in love with someone who I am not destined to be with. I married this person and have been married to her for three years. We had just filed for a divorce a month ago.

His eyebrows knit together in confusion. His future self must have fucked up that bad that he resorted into writing a letter to his past self. But why?

I don’t want you to experience what I went through, past Jaehyun. I don’t want you to lose Y/N. I’m sure you don’t want to lose Y/N either. Y/N is everything you could ever want.

He’s almost done reading the first page of the letter before carelessly shoving the letter back into its envelope. He’s rushing out the door with his car keys. He’s literally running out the door in nothing but a pair of sweats, a hoodie, and his infamous pink house slippers. There’s only one thing on his mind right now.

Here are three things I need you to remember:

The moment you realize you’re in love with Y/N, you must tell her before it’s too late.

Y/N will be moving out when you get this letter. Y/N will be moving into another city and won’t tell you.

Y/N’s going to board the train at 4pm. You must get to her before then if you plan on confessing to her.

It’s funny how all it takes is one sketchy letter from what claims to be his future self to make him realize the truth; he’s in love with you.

Those feelings you have for Y/N? Yes, they are true and sincere. Y/N has been in love with you for the longest time. It was my biggest mistake of thinking it was a joke and letting her become the one that got away.

—Future

Jaehyun puts his pen down onto the table and picks up his cup of coffee. He can already imagine his past self cussing him out for making the letter too long. But he made sure that he stated the most important points on the first page of the letter.

There are many things that he regrets doing. He hopes that his past self will make things right.

“Where are you, Y/N?” He thinks out loud as he looks out the window.

It’s the first snowfall of the winter season. There are couples scattered down the sidewalks, enjoying and taking advantage of this romantic day. He can’t help but remember the first snowfall that changed the way he saw you. He remembers it like it was just yesterday.

He picks up his pen and continues to write his letter.

If you get to Y/N on time, tell her that you love her. I wish I told her.

I regret not telling her.

You’re probably wondering why the fuck is this letter so long? But trust the process. I’ll tell you all of the things I regret doing in this letter because it’s the only way to give myself closure.

I caught feelings for Y/N on the night of Christmas Eve. In fact, I was probably already in love with her before that. But on the night of Christmas Eve, that’s when I realized that I was in love with her and that she wasn’t just a best friend.

He sucks in a deep breath and places the pen back down onto the table. He shuts his eyes and remembers that night.

“Y/N!”

You’re standing right in front of him, snowflakes slowly falling from the sky and landing on the top of your head. He feels warm with his thick scarf wrapped around his neck, but your presence makes him feel much more warmer; like home.

“Jaehyun!”

You finally spot him when you hear his voice. He feels overjoyed. He feels like he’s floating among the stars that scatter across the sky. This is the first time he’s felt this way in weeks. Heck, probably months.

He stops to look up at the sky. “It’s snowing!”

“The first snowfall of the season.” You add, letting out a soft giggle. “Long time no see, dork.”

He remembers looking at you in awe. Your hair had grown longer and you had matured. The snowflakes that fall from the sky make you stand out more. You’re smiling at him so wide that your eyes form into beautiful crescents. He remembers feeling his heart stop. He remembers wondering why he always felt this way whenever he was with you.

“Do you know what the first snowfall of the season means?”

“First snowfall means first love. It also means that the person you’re with on the first snowfall of the season will be the love of your life.”

“Do you believe in it?” You let out a lighthearted chuckle. “If you do, then that means I’m the love of your life.”

“Why? Are you in love with me or something?” He chuckles as he makes the joke.

He swore he saw your smile falter. He swore he saw you look taken aback. He swore he saw you look serious for a split second before mustering up a fake smile and saying—

“Me? In love with you? No, you’re my best friend!”

“You’re joking. Stop joking around, Y/N. Are you in love with me?” He asks for reassurance.

You shake your head. He swore he felt his heart shatter. He swore he felt disappointed. He swore he felt heartbroken hearing you tell him that you weren’t in love with him.

Because he’s in love with you.

He’s caught feelings for you.

“I see you as my best friend, Jaehyun. Nothing more and nothing less.”

But who would’ve thought that it would be a lie?

—Present

He hopes he’s not too late. He hopes he’s not too late. He hopes he’s not too late—

If you get to Y/N on time, tell her that you love her. I wish I told her.

I regret not telling her.

Don’t be a hopeless fool like me.

You’ll regret it. Ever since I married someone else, all I’ve ever done was reminisce and regret.

I hope you get to her on time. You must get to her on time. Or else you’ll be a little too late… again.

She’ll be waiting. In fact, all she’s done was wait for the perfect time and moment.

“Y/N!”

He spots you sitting on the waiting bench. You’re holding what seems like a letter. You’re shoving the letter into your pocket. He starts jogging up to you after running across the entire parking lot. He even bought himself a train ticket just to get inside the station to find you.

And he’s glad he did.

“Jaehyun?”

He’s rushing over to you. He watches you stand up to greet him until he crashes you into a tight embrace. He shifts all of his weight on you as you stand there, completely caught off guard. “Jaehyun, what are you doing here?”

He pulls away from the hug. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? What are you doing here?”

You look up at him with a confused look. “I—I got hired at a company out of town. I moved out. I’m moving into an apartment in another city—”

The letter from his future self was right. You’re moving out of town for your job. You’re moving out and you didn’t tell him. The letter was right. What kind of magic is this?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He frowns.

“I figured it would be best not to tell you because I knew that you would hold me back. And if you held me back, I don’t think I’d ever move out.”

“But you should’ve told me. I came over to take you out for lunch only to find out that you’re moving out of town and into a new city. Do you know how sad I felt?”

“I’m sorry—”

“And then I started wondering why you didn’t tell me about this. I started to wonder if I did something wrong. I couldn’t think straight. I drove all the way here in hopes that I don’t miss you and that I catch you right before you ride.” He finds himself rambling. “If I didn’t catch you on time, I wouldn’t know what to do.”

“Jaehyun—”

Before you go to the train station, I want you to break up with Yeona— “I broke up with Yeona.”

Y/N will probably get mad at you for it. “What?! Why would you do that?!”

He looks at you for a brief moment. You are mad. A laugh of disbelief threatens to escape his lips.

“Why did you break up with her? She’s in love with you, Jaehyun! You’re supposed to propose to her—”

Tell her that you’re in love with her. Because you are. I was a stupid fool for not believing that my feelings for her were true and real. Don’t be like me.

“Because I’m in love with you.”

“Huh?”

“I’m in love with you.” He lets out a nervous laugh as he repeats it for you.

When you tell her that you’re in love with her, it’ll be the most simplest thing to do. When it comes out of your mouth, it will sound right. It will sound like you’re meant to tell her that you’re in love with her, because you are.

“You’re in love with me?”

His future self is right. He’s completely surprised at how perfect and easy it felt to tell you his feelings for you. It was like he was destined to tell you. Loving you sure is easy.

“I’m in love with you, stupid.”

You blink up at him. “Jaehyun, you’re not making any sense right now. It was just weeks ago when you asked me if I should ask Yeona to marry you. It was just weeks ago when you told me that you missed her a lot. It was just weeks ago when you thought my confession was a joke—”

I want you to tell her that you’ve been in love with her since the night of Christmas Eve.

“On Christmas Eve, I picked you up. Yeona and I were going through a rough time in our relationship and I was starting to question if we were meant to be together. I asked and begged for a sign.”

“A sign?”

“The first snowfall. You and I were together on the night of Christmas Eve, where we both witnessed the first snowfall. You asked me if I knew what it meant,” he explains. “I thought ‘Is this the sign I’ve been looking for?’ and then I joked around asking if you were in love with me, not expecting you to say yes. And you did. I couldn’t believe it.”

“Jaehyun—”

“And that summer where you didn’t come up to the cottage. I felt lonely even though I was with Yeona. Things just didn’t feel the same.” He lets out a shaky laugh. “Everything started to remind me of you. I just knew Yeona was annoyed about it. I kept talking about how this and that reminded me of you. It was all starting to make sense.”

“But you still had thoughts about asking her to marry you.” You say and he shakes his head.

If she tries to test you by saying that you were contemplating on proposing to Yeona, I want you to say this— “I asked you for your opinion on it because I couldn’t trust my own decision. I wanted to see if you would say no. A part of me was begging you to say no.” He tells you the truth. He really was hoping you to say no. “But you told me that you love me and that your confession wasn’t a joke. That’s when I knew.”

“So,” you mumble. “You’re in love with me?”

“I confessed my feelings for you three times already.”

“But I want to hear it again—”

“The train is arriving in two minutes. The train is arriving in two minutes.” The speaker announces. The two of you look at each other.”

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.” He confesses again. He can say it as many times as he wants, and it will still feel true and it will still be sincere. “But do you really have to leave me here?”

“I’m in love with you too, Jaehyun.” No matter how many times you’ve already told him that, it always feels like it’s his first time hearing it. He can hear it over and over again and he will still feel like the only man in the entire universe. “And yes, I have to go, Jaehyun. I can’t keep taking the train everyday to work.”

“Can I move in with you, then?”

“Not until you give me a kiss first—”

“How about I marry you instead?”

If you both end up together, which I know you will,

I will finally get the closure that I needed.

—Future

He looks up from his phone to stare up at a building. He looks back down at his phone to make sure that he’s at the right address. As he confirms the address, he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

“Y/N?”

He spots a familiar figure exiting the building of the company that you work at. The figure is walking away and down the sidewalk. He finds himself following the familiar person, trying to catch up to them. Once he finally does, he taps on their shoulder. They turn around and it’s not you.

“Oh, sorry, I thought you were someone else.” He apologizes.

“Oh!” The woman exclaims. “You’re Jeong Jaehyun, right?”

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion. “You know who I am?”

She nods her head. “You’re Y/N’s best friend, right?”

That’s odd. How does she know who he is— “Yes. Do you know her?”

She smiles. “I’m sure you’ve known of me. We were roommates in college. Do you happen to remember that infamous cookie recipe—”

“Holy shit.” That’s all he utters out. “Those cookies are fucking delicious but—how—you guys work together?”

“I see her on the daily and we’re kind of tired of seeing each other. Honestly, we both thought we’d never see each other again after university. But here we are,” she chuckles, extending her hand out. “I’m Sunghwa, by the way.”

He shakes her hand. “Nice meeting you.”

She tilts her head. “Are you looking for her?”

He slowly nods his head. “Well, actually, we left on really bad terms—”

“I know. I kind of hate you for that.” She cuts him off while shrugging her shoulders. “But what can we do, right? Unless you have the power to change the past, there’s not much we can do. But I do believe in fixing things for the future.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Save that for Y/N.” She smiles. “Y/N took two days off from work. She’s probably in her apartment getting some rest. The company had just finished its merge with another company and ever since then, she hasn’t gotten any rest.”

“Do you know where she lives?” He asks.

“I do. I’ll give you her address,” she replies. “But promise me one thing.”

“I’ll do anything—”

“Don’t tell her that I gave you her address. She’ll kill me.”

“You’re already wilting? I just got you yesterday!”

You stare at the vase of roses sitting on your dining table. There are a couple of petals that have fallen off and a few of them have wilted. You frown, taking a few of them, along with the petals, to dry them and add them to your letters.

Sitting on one end of your dining table is your last letter to your past self. You glance at it. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, diverting your thoughts from the letter. “Hello?”

“How are you, honey?” You hear your mother’s soothing voice on the other line. “Have you run out of groceries? Is your fridge full? I hope it is. If anything, your father and I can drop by the grocery store before visiting you on Friday—”

“You don’t need to, mother.” You chuckle. “I just came home from the grocery store. Hey, do you know how to stop flowers from wilting so fast?”

You can hear her frown. “Have the roses wilted already?”

“Yeah, and I just got them yesterday.” You sigh. “It’s okay. I’ll just make another stop by the flower shop to get a new bouquet.”

“Have you been eating your meals?”

You smile. “Yes, mother. In fact, I’m going to be meeting someone tonight.”

“Is it a boy?”

You snort. “No.”

“Do I know them?”

“I’m meeting Yeona tonight.” You say softly. “We’re going to have dinner at a restaurant that opened up down the road. I’m not sure how it’ll go but—”

“Are you sure you want to go? You don’t have to meet her if you don’t want to.” She cuts you off.

You purse your lips into a tight line. “I asked her if we could meet. I’m surprised she said yes, to be honest.”

“You know, when your father and I heard the news about their divorce, we weren’t sure how to react.” Your mother begins. “But Jaehyun’s parents didn’t seem to mind. In fact, when we paid them a visit, they seemed more… relieved?”

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Relieved?”

“It was like a weight was lifted off their shoulders.” Your mother explains. “Ever since they got married, there was never a peaceful day between the two.”

You frown. “Ah, I see.”

She notices your sudden quietness. “Are you perhaps… still in love with Jaehyun?”

You let out a lighthearted chuckle. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t.”

“You know, you should try to get in touch with Jaehyun, sweetheart. You’re his only best friend. I’m sure whatever tension you have between the two of you would go away the moment you see each other.”

You sigh. “It’s easy to say but hard to do, mother.”

“I know, I understand.” She says softly. “Have you sent out your letters?”

You laugh, looking at your last letter sitting on your dining table.

“I’m actually sending out my last one on my way out.”

—Present

He runs his fingers through your hair as you’re sleeping peacefully next to him. You had a rough day at work and the moment you came home, you knocked out on the bed. Jaehyun took this opportunity to finish reading the letter he received from his future self.

I’m sure you’re wondering what happened between Y/N and I. Now, sit tight because this will be a long one.

On July 31st, I asked Y/N to go to the beach. I asked her because I knew that Yeona would be going to the beach that day. I figured it was a great opportunity to try and make Yeona jealous, and maybe get to know her more. And we did.

But something felt off.

I remember Y/N asking me if we could go to the town fair instead. The town fair was only open for a week. But I was persistent on going to the beach instead. I wish we went to the town fair instead.

Ever since I lost contact with Y/N and ever since she moved out of town, she stopped going up to the cottage for the summer. Those summers have been lonely. Whenever I go up to the cottage for the summer, the town fair would immediately remind me of her and how much I regret not taking her to the fair instead.

Jaehyun’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He looks at his phone to check the new text notification, only to take notice of his phone’s lock screen. It’s a picture he took of you when the both of you rode the Ferris Wheel.

“Y/N—”

“Yeah?” He takes a quick candid photo of you.

“Did you just take a picture of me?”

“Yes, I did. I think it’ll be a good picture to use for your Tinder or something. I’ll send it to you.”

“Why, you little—”

“Sent it!”

He looks up from his phone to see you looking down at yours. You’re busy muttering underneath your breath over how he took the worst angle of your face. A smile threatens to form across his lips. He sets it as his lock screen.

On August 14th, Yeona and her parents came over for dinner. I was so in love with Yeona that I decided to tell her the truth. I told her that Y/N and I weren’t dating and it was all just an act. At the time, I was so happy to see the look of relief of Yeona’s face. That night, she confessed to me. She told me that she was in love with me and that she’s glad that Y/N and I weren’t dating.

But believe me when I say this, her confession didn’t feel special. I remember feeling shocked. I remember wondering, is this how I’m supposed to feel when someone reciprocates your feelings? I remember asking myself, shouldn’t I feel happy right now?

But my thoughts were interrupted when Yeona pulled me in for a kiss. I was surprised. I was caught off guard. Y/N suddenly walked out on the porch and saw us kissing.

That night, I officially asked Yeona out. But on that same night, I remember walking past Y/N’s room to hear her crying.

I felt horrible. I felt bad.

On Christmas Eve, Y/N’s arrival time was delayed by an hour. I remember being so excited to see her after months of talking to each other through a laptop screen. I remember being so excited that the moment her father announced that Y/N would be arriving late, I insisted on picking her up instead.

I’m glad I did.

Around that time, Yeona and I were going through a tough time in our relationship. It seemed like she was falling out of love with me. She was posting more photos of her and her guy friend on her account. Our video calls were becoming less frequent. Our good morning and good night texts were becoming less frequent. I really thought that this was it, this was the end of it all.

I was slowly catching feelings for Y/N. I think her absence really got to me. When Yeona and I passed on our usual video calls, I’d call Y/N instead and we’d talk for hours on end. She would even have a midterm the following day but still made the effort to talk to me. I was finding myself texting my usual good morning and good night texts to Y/N instead of Yeona. But now that I think about it, I think I’ve always been in love with Y/N.

I was just too stupid to realize it.

I asked and begged for a sign. I was too blinded by love and I wanted a sign to tell me that being with Yeona was right. That fighting for our relationship was the right thing to do. That trying to mend our already broken relationship was the right thing to do.

When I picked Y/N up at the train station, it was the first snowfall of the season. We made a couple of jokes about the first snowfall that somehow led to me asking her if she was in love with me. She said she wasn’t in love with me. She continued to joke around.

I wondered, is this the sign I was looking for? I remember thinking, if this was the sign, then it’s pretty disappointing.

Because a part of me was hoping Y/N would say that she was in love with me.

—Future

“You came?”

Yeona came earlier than you. She’s sitting at the booth, greeting you as you take the seat right across from her. This feels awkward, you think to yourself as you take off your coat. Right on time, a waitress comes by your table to give you two glasses of wine.

“I hope I’m not late.” You say with a lighthearted chuckle.

She smiles. “I’m just a bit too early.”

“How are you?” You ask.

She takes a sip of her wine. “I’ve been doing better. How have you been?”

You smile. “Likewise.”

As the both of you are picking dishes to eat from the menu, you can feel her look at you every now and then. You’re not sure why she’s staring at you, but you pay no attention to it. As the waitress collects the menus and your orders, she leaves the two of you to talk.

“When you called me to ask if we could meet, I was quite surprised.” She chuckles. “I figured that I’d be the last person you’d want to see.”

You bite your lip. “To be honest with you, I’m surprised you came. I was sort of expecting you to bail out on me.”

The both of you share a chuckle. She looks out the window. It’s snowing. “Have you seen Jaehyun?”

You shake your head. “I haven’t gotten in touch with him for years. Ever since your wedding, actually.”

She tears her gaze away from the window, specifically from the snowflakes that fall from the sky. She looks at you, surprised. “Why not?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess I was just too busy with work. I mean, I still am, but—”

“You should, Y/N.” She places her hand on top of yours.

You stare at her hand that’s on top of yours. There’s no longer a wedding ring on her fourth finger. It kind of throws you off. “I don’t think he’ll want to see me. I bet you didn’t even want to see me either—”

“When Jaehyun and I got divorced, I felt like I was finally setting him free.” She confesses. “I felt like something or someone was holding him back. I knew it was always you, Y/N.”

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Yeona. Jaehyun’s not in love with me—”

“First snowfall means first love. It means that the person you’re with on the first snowfall of the season will be the love of your life.” She cuts you off. You look at her with slightly widened eyes. “That’s what Jaehyun told me. He also told me that the first snowfall always reminds him of you.”

“Yeona, I’m not sure what to say.” You say with a breathy laugh.

“You didn’t attend our wedding.” She mumbles. “Jaehyun was looking for you the entire night. Even when reception was over, he was still looking for you. Let me remind you that I was the one he got married to. It felt weird, it felt heartbreaking, because although his bride was standing right beside him, he was still looking and waiting for someone else.”

“I didn’t attend your wedding because—”

“Because you’re in love with him.” She finishes it for you. “Y/N, I’m not stupid. I can see it with my own two eyes. You’re in love with him and he’s in love with you.”

“Shouldn’t you be mad at me?” You ask.

She shakes her head. “I wish I could be mad at you, but I’m not. Our divorce was mutual. We filed a divorce because I knew Jaehyun was in love with you, and he still is. But we also filed a divorce because I was slowly falling out of love with him and falling in love with someone else.”

“But I feel like this was all because of me—”

She smiles. “Don’t feel bad. If there’s someone who should feel bad, it should be me. I’ve been selfishly holding Jaehyun back for so long, for three years, from someone he should be with.”

You wipe away tears that have managed to stream down your cheeks. “I—”

“Can I ask you one favour?”

The waitress arrives with your dishes and places them onto the table. As the waitress leaves the two of you again, she reaches out to hold your hands.

You nod. “Sure.”

“Please get in touch with Jaehyun. I’m sure he’s looking for you.”

—Present

Jaehyun calls it a night, placing the letter back into its envelope before putting it back in a drawer. He turns off the night light and settles in bed, wrapping his arm around your waist. You snuggle closer to his chest, continuing to let out soft snores. Jaehyun smiles, using his other free hand to tuck a few stray strands of hair away from your face.

“Good night, Y/N.”

On August 8th, Y/N and I had a conversation at the bonfire. I wanted to test the waters again for the second time. I was so confused. My mind was in love with Yeona but my heart belonged to Y/N. I asked her if I should propose to Yeona.

She looked at me and asked me if I love her. I said that I love her. But she asked me if I love her with all my heart. It took me a while to answer, but eventually, I said that I love her with all of my heart.

Y/N simply smiled at me with a smile that didn’t look real.

She said, if I love Yeona with all of my heart, then what was I waiting for?

I remember my heart answering her question with,

I’m waiting for you to stop me.

—Future

“Thanks for the ride, Yeona.”

She smiles. “No worries. Text me when you get home safely!”

And off Yeona goes. You watch her car get smaller and smaller as it grows farther. You let out a happy sigh, stepping inside of your apartment complex. You make a quick stop at the mailbox, placing your last letter to your past self into the slit. As you hop onto the elevator, you find yourself thinking back to your conversation with Yeona.

Just as you step out of your elevator, you stop in your tracks.

“Please get in touch with Jaehyun. I’m sure he’s looking for you.”

Sitting right in front of the door to your apartment is Jaehyun. He’s looking down at his phone. The closer you get to him, the more you realize that he’s playing a game on his phone. A smile threatens to spread across your lips.

“Excuse me, sir, but I think you’ve got the wrong apartment.”

Jaehyun recognizes the voice and his head shoots up. At first, he doesn’t recognize your face. You had definitely matured. You look like a grown woman. Your hair is long. He looks up at you in awe until he realizes how stupid he looks. He’s immediately getting up onto his two feet, but you stop him when you take a seat next to him on the carpet floor.

“Y/N,” he breathes out. “Hi.”

You smile. “Hi.”

“I—Long time no see.” He stutters, scratching the back of his neck.

“How did you get my address?”

“Well, I got it from—”

“You got it from Sunghwa, didn’t you?” You cut him off with squinted eyes. He gulps nervously, nodding his head. You sigh. “God, I’m going to kill her for this.”

The both of you look at each other before bursting out into laughter.

He bites his lip. “How—How have you been?”

You fold your arms. “I think I should be asking you that, Mr. Just Got Divorced.”

He chuckles. “I’ve been doing better. Actually, I think I’ll do even better now that I’ve seen you.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.” He sighs. He feels hesitant to ask you a question he’s been dying to ask you. He decides to take a leap of faith. “Have you been seeing someone lately?”

You shake your head. “No. Why? Should I be seeing someone—”

“No.” He cuts you off. You glance at him with a look of suspicion. He feels nervous again. “Well—that’s not what I meant! What I meant was—”

“What are you doing here?” You ask him with a soft voice. You’re looking at him seriously. “Why did you want to see me, Jaehyun?”

“Because there are many things I want to tell you.” He mumbles.

“And what are those things you want to tell me?”

He swears he feels his heart is on fire. He avoids your gaze. “I’m in love with you.”

It feels nice to hear him say it. It’s like time has slowed down and it’s just the two of you in the universe. When you don’t reply, he courageously looks at you to get some sort of answer from your eyes.

You smile. “I know.”

“You know?”

You hum in reply. “I know that you’re in love with me.”

“But are you in love with me?” He whispers. “I mean, it’s fine if you’re not. I just figured that it would be best for me to let you know that I’m in love with you. All I want is closure and a piece of mind knowing that you know that I’m in love with you.”

“You’re rambling agan, Jaehyun.” You chuckle. You look away from him. “What if I’m in love with you?”

“Are you?”

You let out a sigh. “God, I’m so in love with you, Jaehyun. I’m still in love with you.”

“Huh?”

“I’m in love with you.” You repeat yourself.

“You’re in love with me?”

“I’m in love with you, stupid.”

He doesn’t say anything that it makes you start to worry. You look at him, only to find him looking at you. You really want to kiss him. But you’ll probably have to save that for later.

“So,” he mumbles. “You’re in love with me?”

“I told you like three times already in the span of two minutes, Jaehyun.”

“But I want to hear it again—”

“I’m in love with you, Jaehyun.” You repeat it one last time for him. “But do we really have to be sitting on the floor like this in front of my apartment? When we could literally be chilling inside?”

“I’m in love with you too.” He whispers. “And no, we can definitely go inside. If you’re okay with me being in your apartment, of course.”

“Or, you can move in with me. Do you want to move in with me?”

“Not until you give me a kiss first—”

“How about you ask me to marry you instead?”

“Would you say yes, though?”

You laugh.

“Yes.”

“Babe, I’m going to make a quick stop downstairs! I just need to mail something.”

Jaehyun sees you give him two thumbs up. He’s hopping into the elevator to lead him down to the lower floor. He steps out of the apartment and reaches the mailbox. He seals the envelope before placing his letter to his past self through the slit.

He dusts his hands off. “I hope you get there safely.”

—Present

“Babe, have you seen an envelope?”

You step out of the washroom to find Jaehyun rummaging through the drawers. “An envelope? No, why?”

“I swear I placed it in this drawer last night, but now it’s gone.” He frowns, checking all the drawers one last time before sighing with defeat.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. It’s probably his letters, you think to yourself. “I think I might know where it went.”

“Really?” He asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I’ll look for it. You should go take a shower before you run late for work.”

As he steps out of the bedroom to take a shower, you open your closet to pull out a box where you’ve put all of your letters in. You can hear the shower turn on as you close the closet door shut. You take a seat on the bed, opening the box—

“What the fuck?” You blurt out.

You’re pulling out the letters, one by one, but as you take them out, they all start to disappear into thin air. One by one, they start crumbling up into thin dust, disappearing in your fingertips.

And what was once a box filled with letters from your future self is now, empty.

And just like the letters that have disappeared as if they’ve never happened, the future has been successfully rewritten.

author’s note. thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed this short sequel to seven letters lmao. kjsdhfjkshdf

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blossom-hwa · 3 years ago

Note

hi hi! i know it’s the last day for your 4 year anniversary drabble game, but i absolutely love your writing & wanted to send a request <3 could you do han jisung with the title “long way home” ? :)

again, i really love your work & i think you’re such an incredibly talented writer! keep up the amazing work <3

hi love! I see you in my notifs a lot so I got really excited when you sent this request - thank you so much for all of your support!!! I hope you enjoy what I've written for this <3

4 year anniversary drabble game: send me a Stray Kids/The Boyz/Golden Child/Ateez member + a prompt (check out the post for ideas) and I’ll write a drabble for you!

This is a sequel to For You, a fic I wrote a while back - you can read it here!

Reminder: REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.

Title: Long Way Home

Pairing: Jisung x gender neutral!reader

Word count: 1.1k

Triggers: none

Jisung stares out the window of the train, even though there's been nothing to see but dark tunnels for several miles. He isn't really watching, though, more just... looking. Wondering.

Maybe even praying, a little.

It's been a year since he left his small town for a career in the city, producing alongside the company of his dreams. It's been a year since he started working with Chan and Changbin, two people who have grown - even over just twelve months - to be some of the best friends Jisung has ever had.

But it's also been a year since he left you at the station, fighting back tears as you tried to smile and wish him the best as he headed onto the train. It's been a year since he kissed you for the first time before he went away, waving as long as he could before you disappeared.

And most importantly, it's been a year since you both made a promise that Jisung has kept, to wait for each other until he could make it back home.

Jisung swallows. It's been a long time - not longer than he expected, he knew how difficult it would be to prove himself at such a young age - but still, twelve months. Twelve months. Twelve months since he last saw your face, twelve months since he really heard your voice. There have been letters, of course, texts and a grainy phone calls, but Jisung's heart races at the mere thought of being able to see you in person again, to hear your sweet voice from your own lips.

He can only hope you kept the promise he asked you to keep.

The train finally pulls to a stop in the dingy, familiar station, and Jisung quickly heads out of the doors. If he had his suitcase in hand, it'd feel a little like deja-vu, walking through the station like he did the last time he saw you. But the suitcase is back in the city because he's returning. He isn't here to stay.

He just wanted to see you again.

A rush of cold air hits Jisung when he exits the station, burrowing his hands in his jacket. It takes him a moment to get his bearings - it's been a long time, after all - but then he recognizes a building at the end of the street. If he just turns left and keeps walking for a few blocks, he'll find himself in front of the coffee shop where the two of you used to work.

You're still there. Jisung confirmed that a few weeks ago, when he was finally planning to come back. It took a lot of effort to keep his plans hidden under a mask of casualness, but thankfully, you can't see his face over text.

So you have no idea that he's here.

It seems to take an eternity to reach the cafe, but once he's standing in front of the glass doors, Jisung doesn't know what to do. In the back of his mind, he does - take the door handle, open the door, go inside and up to the counter so he can surprise you - but stupid, irrational fear roots his hands at his sides.

What if you don't want to see him again?

Someone gently pushes past him and opens the door. A cloud of warm air gusts over Jisung's still figure, beckoning him inside. He swallows. He has to see you. Has to.

So he steps inside.

Warm air hits his skin with a pleasant tingle, and for a moment, Jisung stands still, breathing in the familiar smell of roasting coffee beans. His eyes find the counter and his heart leaps into his throat -

There you are, smiling, handing a cup to the last customer at the counter. Once they're gone, you turn around to begin wiping something down behind the counter.

Step by step, Jisung walks forward, heart pounding with every second that passes. The top of the counter feels cool beneath his hands and his breath sticks in his throat but he swallows, swallows again, and then he's able to speak -

"Y/N."

You freeze. Immediately. It almost looks like you've become a statue with how motionless you are. But then slowly, slowly you turn around, face startlingly neutral -

"Jisung," you breathe. "Jisung?"

He smiles tentatively. "It's me," he says, fingers digging into the counter to hold himself up. "I'm back, Y/N."

For a moment, nothing happens. You stare at each other, neither moving a muscle.

Then -

Before Jisung can blink, you've thrown yourself around the counter and have wrapped him in a hug, pushing him back several steps as you fling yourself against his body and sling your arms around his chest. You're hitting him, saying something about 'why didn't you tell me you were coming back?' and there are tears, too, soaking into his shoulder, and all Jisung can do his close his eyes against his own tears and hug you back, silently swaying you from side to side.

"I hate you," you say, smiling, through a voice choked with tears. You've pulled away for a moment and Jisung can only stare into your eyes, the eyes he wrote songs about back in the city, the eyes he hasn't seen in a year - you look even more beautiful than when he left, face shining in the light of the cafe. "I hate you. Why didn't you give me any warning? Then I wouldn't look like -" You gesture at your uniform, the coffee stains on your apron. "Like this."

"You look beautiful no matter what," Jisung says sincerely, smile spreading wider. "I wanted to surprise you."

"Well, you surprised me." You wipe at your eyes. "How long have you been planning this? How long are you here? Who else do you want to visit -"

"Questions later," Jisung interrupts, settling his arms around your waist. He can't find it in himself to care that you're in public, that you're literally at work - he's waited a year to see you again, the rest of the world can wait a moment. "Can I -" He swallows. "Can I kiss you?"

Your mouth snaps shut. Your lips tremble. And your eyes, oh, your eyes -

They shine like the millions of stars in the sky.

"Of course," you whisper. "Of course."

And in the next moment, with his lips pressed to yours, Jisung's heart feels at peace for the first time in months. The world falls away, replaced with only your warmth and your lips and the hands around his neck pulling him closer, closer.

Jisung smiles against your lips. It's been a long way home, but the gift he came back to...

It was worth it.

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fruitcoops · 4 years ago

Note

Omg can you write about coops going live on instagram and answering TONS of fans questions? And just being domestic and cute together in general

I can, yes! This is partially the 450 celebration--to the lovely person who suggested writing a sequel to one of my favorites, please know that I love and appreciate you! Coop credit goes to @lumosinlove

Check out Part 1 here

“Is it working? I think it’s working.” An explosion of hearts covered the screen and Remus’ eyebrows rose. “Yep, definitely working. Hello, Instagram! I’m Remus Lupin, winger for the Lions.”

“And I’m Sirius Black, center and team captain.” Sirius waved at the phone. “We had a great time answering your questions last month and we figured we’d come back to do it again, since there were so many people we couldn’t get around to in those few minutes.”

“I can already see a bunch coming in. Should we start?” Remus asked, turning to him with a small smile.

“You go first.”

“Alright, first question….” He squinted at the screen. “How long have we been together? We’ve been dating for just over a year now, but we’ve known each other for three-ish.”

Sirius snorted when he read the next question. “What do we do in our free time? It’s cute that you think we have free time. Um, we read a lot. Sometimes I’ll play video games with the guys.”

“If we have a free weekend, we’ll go hiking or take a short road trip. Practice takes up four or five hours a day, so we’re very low-key, which I think surprises people.” Remus scrolled down a bit. “What are our favorite foods?”

“Don’t say it.” Sirius said immediately. “Don’t you dare.”

“Fine, fine.” Just as Sirius began to answer, he coughed, “pineapple pizza.”

“No!” Sirius smacked Remus on the arm with a pillow as he laughed. “Menace. My favorite food is pasta, because it’s versatile and I’m not a heathen. All of you who are agreeing with him, stop it right now. I’m very disappointed in your tastebuds. Next question…do either of us cook? We do, yeah.”

Remus gave him a look. “Do you, though?”

“That’s a funny thing to hear coming from the man who said he’d die for one of my grilled cheeses yesterday,” Sirius countered.

“Fair point. Yes, we both cook, but I generally do it more often because I enjoy it.”

Sirius looked back at the camera with sad eyes. “He kicked me out of the kitchen last week.”

“You kept stealing bites of soup!” Remus laughed. “It wasn’t even done, you could have gotten salmonella!”

“You can’t get salmonella from soup,” Sirius scoffed. The comment section went wild. “…apparently you can. Huh.”

“Next question, before we get too off-track. Who is the more dramatic one?” Remus folded his hands and rested his chin on top. “I’m giving you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re plenty dramatic.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“Moving on! Oooo, this one is for me specifically.” He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist as he read. “Sirius: does Regulus—you spelled that wrong by the way, there’s only one ‘g’—does Regulus still live with you? If yes, how does that work?”

“I’m telling him someone spelled his name wrong,” Remus said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“He’ll be so pissed,” Sirius agreed. “Nope, Reg moved out a few months ago and now lives with Pascal Dumais, but it was really neat to have him around. He’s still got a room here and it was nice spending so much time with him after we didn’t talk for a while. He’s awful about vacuuming, though.”

“Aw, people think that’s cute.” Remus smiled as he read the responses. “Ohoho, people are getting nosy. What do we argue about the most?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Maybe chores?”

“I was going to say practice time. We’ve gotten into a couple tiffs about watching tape or running drills after we get home.”

“That’s true.” Sirius frowned at the screen. “For those of you who apparently think that’s all one-sided: it’s really not.”

“He came downstairs to get me at ten or eleven at night the other day. We’re both hockey nerds, so it happens from time to time.”

“Are we going to keep doing tiktoks? Oh, for sure, they’re a ton of fun.”

“Absolutely. Where else am I going to get the inspiration to glue things shut just to irritate him?”

Sirius shook his head with a smile. “Diablotin.”

“Nothing like being called a gremlin by your fiancé,” Remus laughed, tapping the screen. “Okay…who’s the best in bed?”

“I’d say we both sleep really well,” Sirius said. “You talk sometimes, which is really funny.”

Remus glanced over. “Do I really?”

“Yep. I think you were grocery shopping the other night. You kept saying orange juice very adamantly.”

“Interesting. I agree, though, we both value sleep.”

“There are too many questions!” Sirius scooted forward and sifted through them. “To jay-mac 2001, we both love kids and might have some in a few years. No, mermaid queen, we don’t really have friends outside of hockey because we don’t have lives outside of hockey—” Remus leaned his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder as he laughed. “—but I’m sure that will change someday. Oh, here’s a fun one: what are our love languages?”

“Our what?”

“Love languages. Like the Buzzfeed quiz Pots made us take last week.” The screen lit up and Sirius looked offended. “Of course we know what Buzzfeed is! We’re 25, you fuckers!”

“I think mine was quality time.”

Sirius pulled Remus’ arm further around his shoulders and leaned into his side with a smile. “It’s physical affection,” he singsonged, making him laugh. “Your turn.”

“Have you finally found your song?” Remus read aloud. “I think so! We did an interview a while back and there was a question about our ‘couple song’, which we didn’t have at the time.”

“That didn’t answer the question, sweetheart.”

“Oh! Shit, sorry. It’s La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf.”

Sirius read the next question and snorted. “This is convenient. Who swears more?”

Remus looked away. “It’s, uh, a tie.”

“That’s such a lie.”

He sighed. “It’s probably me.”

“You taught a literal baby to swear.” Sirius turned back to the camera with a wicked grin. “Harry’s first word was ‘Loops’, but his second was ‘shit’ and there’s an eighty percent chance he learned it from Re.”

“Changing the subject!” Remus cleared his throat, then smiled. “Aw, I like this one. What’s the compliment you get most often from your partner?”

“Does it have to be verbal?”

“Sirius.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide. “Not like that! Oh, fuck, I did not mean that! You always touch my hair, so I figured that was a compliment. Merde.”

Remus shook his head. “We need a supervisor again. Anyways, you talk about my freckles all the time and it’s adorable.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Sap.”

“Yeah.” Sirius kissed his cheek. “What’s the best date I’ve ever been on? We went ice skating at the local rink a few weeks ago and it was so much fun. I had never done that before.”

Remus’ eyebrows rose. “I thought for sure you would say the aquarium.”

“The aqu—oh, right! With the jellyfish arch!”

“Yeah!”

“Now it’s a tie, I can’t decide.”

“That’s fair. From spaceman93: who tops? We actually don’t have a bunk bed, though that would be cool as hell! Do you think Ikea sells them?”

“We should check.”

The screen exploded into activity again and Remus did a double-take. “Yes, we do buy our furniture from Ikea, there’s no need to sound so shocked. This person—I can’t read your username, sorry—wants to know which of us is more cuddly.”

“Definitely me,” Sirius said.

“For sure. I like cuddling people, but only a select few. I mean, I’m assuming you guys saw the Cap cuddles slideshow at our last game.” He laughed when Sirius turned pink. “Why are you embarrassed? It was cute!”

“There’s a hashtag now!” Sirius complained. “I have a reputation.” Remus rolled his eyes fondly as Sirius looked for the next question. “Ha! Do we ever get jealous?”

“Yes, but not for the reasons people might think.”

Sirius laughed quietly. “We went out to a bar for Kasey’s birthday a month or so ago—”

“Oh, please no.”

“—and a young lady was hitting on me, not taking the hint—”

“Jesus.”

“—so Re comes out of nowhere and kisses me full on the mouth in front of everyone.” He snickered and Remus hid his face in his hands. “It was kinda hot, not gonna lie. Really funny looking back, though. Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Who is clumsier? Ooh, we’re both disasters off the ice. I tripped over the carpet about twenty minutes ago.”

“I’ve run into every doorframe in this house at least twice.” Sirius grimaced. “If I could just tape my skates to my feet and always be on ice, that would be much safer.”

Remus cocked his head to the side. “I dunno, it would be hard to sleep in them.”

“I do that all that time.”

“That’s true, you take a nap in the hall at least once a week in full gear.”

“Reverse Edward Scissorhands.” They had to take a moment to stop laughing before Sirius turned back to the phone. “Mon dieu. Alright, what do we have next…when did you know I was ‘the one’? When did you know, mon amour?”

“Breaking out the nicknames, very snazzy,” Remus teased as he rested his chin on his hand. “I think it was just an accumulation of things, and then one day I went ‘oh shit’ and just knew. Sometime around New Year’s, maybe?”

“You only made it two months?” Sirius teased, nudging him lightly.

“Shush, you.” Remus nudged him back. “I knew I wanted to propose when I came home from hanging out with Leo and you were napping with the dog. You had done the dishes and left Avatar on so we could watch it together, and I opened the door and knew that I wanted that moment forever.”

Sirius smile was unbearably soft, and he kissed Remus on the cheek as hearts filled the comments section. “I’ve never seen so many keysmashes in my life,” he laughed when he looked back to it. “Hey, someone addressed one to you specifically.”

“Really?” He leaned forward eagerly. “To Remus, do you feel like part of the team yet? I do, a hundred percent! It helped that I was close with a lot of the guys from being the PT, so those friendships carried over really well. Being a player on the roster has only made that better and it’s the best job in the world.”

“Who has the better smile? We’re going to say each other, so I think we’ll leave that one to the comments—fuck, that was a bad idea, it’s moving too fast for me to read!” Sirius tapped the screen desperately, then gave up and waited for the scrolling to slow down. “Ask each other one question you’ve always wanted to know the answer to.”

“Do you actually want to get your ears pierced?” Remus asked. “You talked about it a while ago but I wasn’t sure if you were kidding.”

Sirius thought for a minute, biting his lip. “Y’know, I might. It was one of those things where it started as a joke and then I kept thinking about it. I’m not sure, hockey’s not the best sport to have things that can catch and tear.” They both winced at the idea. “My turn. What is it about pineapple pizza that you actually enjoy?”

“It annoys you.” Remus laughed as Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I honestly don’t know why I like it so much. There’s something about the sweetness that goes so well with the regular pizza taste. Okay, last question for me: how many freckles do I have? Not many right now.”

“So many in the summer,” Sirius said dreamily. “That’s the best part of summertime and the only reason I like Florida. They might have bouncy ice, but it’s worth it to see the freckles pop.”

“Whew, Florida’s getting mad in the comments!” Remus grinned. “Get some real ice, then come talk to us.”

“Final question, then we really have to go. What does your partner look best in?” Sirius drummed his fingers on his knees. “His jersey. Or my jersey. He does own a pair of skinny jeans, though, and that was the closest thing to a religious experience I’ve ever had.”

“They’re comfortable.” Remus shrugged, but he looked rather self-satisfied. “That’s all we have time for, folks, but thanks for joining us!”

“Go Lions!”

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13uswntimagines · 4 years ago

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The One Where Lindsey *Accidentally*Breaks the Internet (Lindsey Horan x Medic!Reader)

Request: reader is the medic for the thorns and her and lindsey are secretly together and lindsey accidentally lets it slip one day via instagram or something? and the the fans go crazy bc they’ve already been shipping them since lindsey flirts with R every time she can?

Author’s note: So this was super fun to write and there will totally be a sequel like way far down the road. I hope you enjoy it. I should also mention that the reader has an M.D and is the team doctor for the Thorns and the USWNT.

Lindsey Horan was a lot of things. A fantastic soccer player. A loving girlfriend and a woman with a bad habit. She was a tease through and through, loving the effect simple actions could have on both you and the fans. And since quarantine, taking cute photos of you had gotten even easier. Though you hadn’t outright admitted to dating, the fans were nearly certain that the two of you were quarantining together.

Sure they had been suspicious before, with all of your girlfriends flirting during both thorns and national team camp. The middy just couldn’t seem to help herself from distracting you from your medical staff duties, and the fans had noticed. But with Lindsey’s most recent post of you cuddled up with a cup of coffee on her balcony, the Portland skyline in the background, had just about sent them over the edge. It was also the reason for a very excited Somnett’s FaceTime ahead of their scheduled Instagram live.

“So how had quarantining with Y/n been,” Emily asked with a teasing edge to her voice. Lindsey sighed, rolling her eyes and settling back on the couch of your shared apartment. A wide smile broke across her face at the sight of you set up with all your practice medical stuff at the kitchen table, your glasses perched on your nose, a pen tucked behind your ear.

“Good, she’s so fucking adorable,” She said breathlessly, ignoring Emily’s loud cackle of amusement.

“Have you seen the Instagram fans?” Emily asked sobering.

“Yeah, they’ve been going crazy over photos from like 2 years ago,” Lindsey smirked, thinking of her most recent post, and how you had pulled out a photo of you and her in France to one-up her.

“I mean, your girl did a post for Horan hump day…” Sonnett said raising an eyebrow. So maybe both of you sucked at subtlety.

“She also did Tobin Tuesday and Sonnett Sunday,” Lindsey laughed, shaking her head. You may have been on the Medical staff for both the Thorns and the national team, but you minored in photography, and absolutely loved to show your photos off.

“Yeah, but we’re talking about the picture of baby you two. Don’t act like you don’t love to tease them,” Emily snickered, and Lindsey winced slightly. So maybe the photo that she had chosen was from college you on your trip to Paris the week you two met, and maybe in return, you had posted one of her just after you both made the national team in your respective fields.

“I like to tease Y/n, the fans are just a bonus,” Lindsey shrugged, smiling at Emily’s laugh. The two of you were so gooey with your love, hence why the fans were very much onto you.

“Hey babe, can you come help me for a second?” You called out from the table, glancing over the top of your glasses towards your girlfriend.

“Duty calls,” She said in a dramatic voice, moving to hang up the phone.

“Wait, I wanna say hi,” Emily pouted. She knew you could hear her, but she hadn’t actually gotten to see you. You were her best friend and it sucked that she was trapped in Georgia while you and her other best friend got to ham it up together. Lindsey rolled her eyes at the dramatic woman and heaved herself off the couch.

“What’s up, baby?” She asked, setting the phone down on top of one of the many open textbooks so Emily could see you both and wrapped her arm around your shoulders. You sigh, leaning back into her.

“Can you hand me that pack of thread?” You hum, pointing with your forceps hand towards a box on the other side of the table.

“Are you sewing up a chicken?” Emily questioned, her face scrunching in disgust as she took in the scene before her. You were sitting in what the team had deemed your doctor garb (meaning your hair on a bun, glasses perched firmly on your nose, and exams gloves slipped over your hands) with a dismembered chicken in front of you. From the look of the tools on your hands and the half put together chicken, Emily could only assume what you were doing.

“Yeah, I need to practice so I can do one on the fly,” You mumbled, gesturing where you wanted Lindsey to place the new needle and thread pack and puckering your lips to kiss her in thanks.

“Didn’t you do that enough in med school?” Emily teased, her eyes shining. It was rare that the team got to see soft interactions like this between the two of you, and frankly how adorable the two of you were was criminal.

“Hi to you too, Sonnett,” You stuck your tongue out at the woman, finally taking your eyes off your ‘patient’ for the first time. Her cackle brought a smile to your face.

“I’ll just be in the other room. Sonnett and I are about to go live,” Lindsey miles, smoothing back the hair that had fallen in your eyes and kissing your forehead.

“Okie Dokie baby” You smiled up at your girlfriend, pursing your lips for a kiss. She obliged with a giggle. “see you soon, I’ll be watching,” you laughed, wiggling your eyebrows.

“You guys are sickeningly sweet,” Emily made a fake gagging noise that brought your attention back to the offending device.

“Shut up Disani,” Both you and Lindsey snapped together. You loved the woman, but she sure knew how to ruin a moment.

*****

“Come on Linessie, you know that I’m the best cook,” Emily snorted, ignoring the interviewers stupid question in favor of bantering with Lindsey.

“Hey, I’ve gotten way better,” Lindsey huffed, pointing her finger at the blond and refraining from saying that you were most definitely the cook in your relationship.

“Yet you still let Y/n practice her medical skills on your chicken before she cooks it,” Emily rolled her eyes, her hands gesturing wildly at the mention of her most recent phone call with the two of you.

The interviewer froze, her eyes widening. She had been fine with Emily and Lindsey going off the rails a little bit and talking more to each other than answering the questions. The fans loved it and the stories they were telling were gold, but she couldn’t sit back and let this admission slip by. It was the only acknowledgment Lindsey had ever made to your living arrangements, and with the recent string of photos, it may have been the break she was waiting for.

“Wait wait wait, Y/n as in Thorns med staff Y/n, since when were you guys roommates,” The woman interrupted Lindsey midway through her sentence.

“Since we started dating like 3 years ago,” Your girlfriend shrugged offhandedly, returning to her point about her cooking (or lack thereof) ability, leaving the interviewer and a large majority of the fans to sit in shock.

Lindsey paused at the loud pinging of the comment section going crazy. She paused, her eyes drifting towards the rapidly moving comments, smirking when she saw some of the comments from her teammates, and the fans crazy nonsensical comments in return. She winked at the camera, loving that she just broke the internet, and biting her lip unsure of what your reaction would be.

*****

“Nice live stream babe, but I think we need to like to make an official post or something,” You smirked, plopping down in your girlfriend's lap after she ended the stream, poking her dimples, using your thumb to smooth out the worried lines in her forehead.

“I just came out on live stream, and that’s what you say?” Lindsey scoffed, raising her eyebrow at you.

“I mean I love you, and I’m happy we don’t have to hide anymore, but like don’t you think we should tell them we’re engaged?” You asked shrugging, pecking her nose with a smile.

“I think we’ve broken the internet enough for one day,” She rolled her eyes at you, leaning up to peck your lips, tired of your shoty aim.

“The team is going to be pissed when they find out we didn’t tell them you proposed,” You singsonged, laughing lightly. Sure they had posted enough coupily photos of the two of you to last the fans a while, but when they realized you were getting married, it was going to be a media frenzy.

“I’m sure they’ll post enough photos to crash the site,” She laughed, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

“Well, I know a few other things we can break,” You hummed, nudging her chin with your nose and placing a few kisses on the underside of her jaw.

“Yeah?” She asked, tilting her head to the side to give you more room, moaning lightly when you found the spot you knew drove her wild.

“Hmm, but you better not share this on fucking Instagram live.” You smirked against her skin, teasingly running your teeth along her pulse point, and placing a very wet kiss there.

“I think you put the verb in the wrong place in that sentence-” She breathed out, sighing at the delicious sensations you were sending through her.

“Shut up and take your pants off. I think I need to practice my exam skills” You smirked devilishly at her, and suddenly the team and the fans were the last things on her mind, even though she did just technically break the internet.

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #lindsey horan x reader #lindsey horan imagine

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life-rewritten · 4 years ago

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THE GIANTS OF THAI BL 2020 AKA SHOWS STEALING MY HEART IN NOVEMBER

UPDATE AND UPCOMING ANALYSIS NOVEMBER 2020

It's the moment I've been waiting for since the excruciating silence of Thai BLS during the lockdown. It's November, the month of thanksgivings, the month of pre-Christmas jitters, nanowrimo and the month that has finally made me realise we are so close to ending this godforsaken year. Still, most of all, November means that we are getting buttloads of shows that are about to take my breath away. This year has been such an exciting year for BLS because of the increasingly amount of companies and directors willing to produce and release different types of BLS. In this list, we have awaited sequels, delicious plotlines and shocking comebacks. But most of all we have lots and lots of romance and men. Which of these have you been waiting for? Let me know. Let's squeal about it. November is going to be so great!

Ratings: From 1 to 5 (1 being least excited to watch, 5 being most,) how excited am I to delve into these shows?

Shows already airing

1.I TOLD SUNSET ABOUT YOU/ INTERPRET, MY LOVE, WITH YOUR HEART

Genre/Themes: Romance, Melodrama, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship

Country: Thailand

Verdict: So finally I rise from the memories of poorly produced bls, and pains of bad acting, and toxic writings, and traumas of stiff actors and homophobic agendas to finally say that without a doubt. Nadao has produced another masterpiece after my other favourite (Non) BL; Greater Man academy. Nadao stuns me, and for a very long time, I couldn't understand that this was how everyone was feeling, one because I wasn't fully educated or in the know about the company, I only saw tv shows in Thailand that were produced by GMMTV and to be honest I didn't think there was anything else above that standard in shows apart from Lakorns and Movies. (I know Sacrebleu) Getting to know and watch Nadao shows has been an experience, and for BL, I am hooked and ready for what else they have to offer. The only qualms that prevent me from gushing about the show are how international fans are treated. It took me a very long time to forgive ITSAY for its subbing platform (and price range), and that's why I refused to watch it with positive feelings. After episode 2 though, I'd be a fool to hold on to resentment when there is no doubt that this BL (despite not knowing if it's a sad ending. I'd hate if it is but it wouldn't change anything) is the best BL of this year. With ridiculous, incredible production, outstanding breathtaking cinematography, beautiful and talented actors and writing so good it blows me away. Episode 2 left my heart in pieces, but in a good way, I haven't recovered from the angst.

Ratings: 4.5/5 Would have been a 5/5 if the pricing made sense but also I'm terrified about a sad ending which I won't be too happy about.

2. FRIEND FOREVER/ OUR LOVE IS SICK

Genre/Themes: Romance, Music, Coming of Age, Angst, Drama, Childhood friendship, Rich vs poor, Bullying

Country: Thailand

Verdict: It's a pity this show is not available for international fans. Because I think people would actually love this show the way I do. It's so precious, reminds me so much of my first ever BL Lovesick (made by the same production team so makes sense) but better. What can I say about this show, really adorable cast, actually so good on the screen, great chemistry, and good storylines that keep me hooked. I am so in love with surprisingly one of my favourite couples this year Tin and Sea. I have such a great time watching this show, and I enjoy also analysing and just piecing together some of the mysteries in the show. It's been so good so far, and I can't wait for more. The first episodes are a little slow-paced, but it gets better as you keep watching it. I'd advise you to watch the director's cut because that has all of the storylines in the episode instead of the tv version which is more censored and has a lot of deleted scenes that mess with the flow of the storyline. Still, one of my favourite Thai shows right now.

Ratings: 4/5 I think 4/5 is a fair score just because of some confusion when trying to watch it internationally and getting the right version and I do think the story feels like a whiplash between the different styles of writing of the main two couples. Go watch this though if you haven't, dm me and I'll show you how.

NON-THAI

3. GAYA SA PELIKULA

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, LGBTQ+ Education, Contract relationship, Haters to lovers

Country: Philippines

Verdict: Normally with verdicts, I have so much to say about a show, also when I analyse I can write essays and essays of information. When it comes to this show, I'm speechless. I'm in awe; I'm crying just even trying to explain how great this show is. How great Fridays are because of this show. How upsetting and damaged I am when the end of the episode occurs, I literally mourn waiting for the next episode the next week because it's too long. This show pulls you in, and it never lets you go. I'm mindblown by the writing of this show, mindblown by the acting, by the production, music, but most of all I have become a mess because of this meta in this show. I have cried so much because of how much I care about this show, the characters are all fleshed out, are so powerfully written, and emotionally tugs at your heartstrings whilst still educating and representing LGBTQ community fantastically. I don't know what we did to deserve a show like this. Maybe its because after years of waiting for something to finally show up and just be unproblematic and be so great with no questions, no confusions, no struggle, this show is just that. And I will be forever thankful to the whole team that brought this to us

Ratings: 5/5 I would give this more than 5 if I could. That's how much this show means to me.

4. CHERRY MAGIC

Genre/Themes: Romance, Comedy, Supernatural, Office drama, Slice of Life

Country: Japan

Verdict: Kurosawa and Adachi. That's it. That's the reason for the 5/5 stars when it comes to watching this show. First of all, I like Japanese romantic comedy shows, and anime, and manga. So seeing cherry magic come to life as this amazing form of that makes me so happy. Typically with Japanese BL, everything feels so serious sometimes, and then sometimes it feels too crazy and over the top. But Cherry Magic just feels like a warm hug when you watch it; you can't help your self but to smile and giggle at Adachi's adventures realising that he can read minds because he's a virgin at 30 years old. To add to that, he is given Kurosowa this incredible, amazing, wonderful non-toxic man who absolutely adores him and unconditionally is there for him. I just like what? Where do I get my own Kurosawa? Like it just feels so unfair haha. But really cherry magic is full of great acting, fantastic plot and unique as well. Every character is also written well, and all have interesting dynamics. We also have another side couple who is so funny and ridiculous but also just cute and heartwarming. I have a great time watching this show and the fact that it's ending on Christmas day? Already tells you what this show is, a gift and its a great one.

Ratings: 5/5 I want my own Kurosawa. That's it. That's all I want Universe.

Shows Upcoming

5. THARNTYPE 7 YEARS OF LOVE

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Mature, LGBTQ+ Representation, Internalised homophobia, Sequel

Country: Thailand

Verdict: This is a complicated show to gush about. First of all TharnType, the series in 2019 was one of my favourite shows that brought me back to this BL thing. I absolutely adore all the actors, and I also loved the storyline like I said before there's something about Mame's writing that I appreciate, I think most of her strengths is found in TharnType. Because of this, this sequel is one of my most anticipated show this year. However, I feel conflicted because I hate sequels. I hate couples having to go through the weird-ass, shallow, conflicts that just end up ruining the meaning of their previous show and leaves me with a bad taste in my mouth about the couple I once loved (Looking at you Together with me the next chapter still traumatised honestly). Enough of the negatives, Tharn and Type from the trailer looks like it's going to be a wild ride, I can even see the great chemistry that made me fall for MewGulf, and I'm so excited to see the new couples and characters. I also am so excited to see TECHNO again and laugh with him every Friday. We also know that the awaited wedding between our couple is also going to be in this show. And that's going to make me bawl like a baby. Let's hope we don't have too many toxic or troublesome storylines, let's hope we don't have too many breakups and fights (because that hurts so much seeing Mew cry) and let's hope we finally have a sequel that is better than its predecessor.

Ratings: 4.5/5 This is how I feel about it, I don't think I can rate it as 5/5 because of all the worry and anxiety at what the storyline entails—still a great show to look forward to.

6. MANNER OF DEATH

Genre/Themes: Romance, Crime, Mature, Angst, Drama, Mystery, Thriller, Haters to Lovers

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Think about it. Why wouldn't this be number one on everyone's list of upcoming BLS? We have the return of one of the best actors in this genre MaxTul the actual godfathers of Thai BL; we have an incredible team here with a director that has won multiple awards, with a storyline that is unique to Thai BL, we're getting crime, detective, mystery BL with mature characters who are not in university? As if that's not enough, we also have a really incredible plotline about this forensic doctor who falls in love with someone who we are not sure if we should trust because he could be a murderer! Like oooh yes please, the drama, the angst, the thrill?? I'm ready for this; I am so prepared to give my whole heart and attention on this show. I want it to be so good, to defeat the shows of 2019 that came and took our hearts away, to be the best BL ever. It's so difficult not to raise my expectations when it comes to this show when I know we have a great cast, great chemistry, non-stiff acting, and just a really non-toxic author as well. I look forward to this so much. Only issue/question? Where is the trailer? Hello WETV, where is our teaser? Why don't we know the date for when this is coming out? I want it out now. But I'll try and be patient okay?

Ratings: 5/5 I can't think of how this show won't be good. And that's really worrying. But for now, I'll keep my expectations high and wait.

7. TONHON CHONTALEE

Genre/Themes: Romance, Coming of Age, Angst, Comedy, Childhood friendship, GMMTV

Country: Thailand

Verdict: Podd and KHAOTHUNG, (my sun, my heart, my favourite person ever) Sorry just gushing over my two faves. GMMTV has shocked me this year with the announcement of this show. First of all, Khao gets to have a show where he's the main lead. I've been waiting for this, and I'm so proud and excited for him. Not only that obviously, but TonTonChontalee looks really good with a vibe of a comedic spin to one of my favourite shows Theory of love. I am ready to see Podd act so stupid as Ton and at the same time sob when he finally realises that Chon is the one. I'm so ready to see Khao act his socks off, and the show looks so funny, so fun and just like the chemistry between two is definitely a winner. I cannot wait for this next Friday. And it also has Mike and Toptap! What's not to love? Seriously though I'm praying this is successful, and it helps both Podd and Khao to dominate GMMTV. Let's find out next Friday.

Ratings: 5/5 For Podd and Khaothung. Just worth the rating.

8. GEN Y THE SERIES

Genre/Themes: Romance, Drama, Comedy, Angst, 2moons Fanfiction, Haters to Lovers

Country: Thailand

Verdict: First of all 2 MOONS Reunion! What?? Very shocked to see this show tbh one because it's like a direct copy of 2moons the series; the same cast, the weird alternations to the same name, the same kind of plot as well. Channel 3 has finally decided to invest in BLs, one of the biggest companies in Thailand, so the budget is high, the actors are known and famous, the production is good. This is so exciting to see. Also, 2moons was one of my favourite past BLs the whole time it was airing, and I had a massive affinity for Kimmon and Copter, so it's great to see them play their characters again but with a better budget and now glow up and grown. Their acting seems to have improved, Kit and Ming's storyline being the main focus is also really lovely to see. I also love seeing Bas and the other actors from other Bl series (The Moment actors) and I'm excited to know more about the new cast as well. So yeh this show has a great potential to win my heart as well, and the competition is not easy at all. But with a great company behind them and an exciting premise, this can also be a winner.

Ratings: 4/5 I'm intrigued by this show, and I look forward to seeing what it brings.

November is such an exciting month for someone like me who just loves watching tv and analysing and just seeing romance bloom. These couples, stories and actors have a great potential to be the best things of 2020 so far, each of these shows holds evidence that they're worth paying attention to and honestly I've missed seeing Thai BLs that make me so excited so much. I've missed these actors, I've loved each and every one of them, and I can't wait to see them this month on my screen. What about you, guys? What do you look forward to? Who are your favourites? What are you worried about when it comes to these comebacks. Let's discuss.

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waywardimpalawriter · 4 years ago

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His boulevard of broke dreams

His boulevard of broken dreams

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Lisa Braeden, Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Lisa Braeden, Ben Braeden

Setting: A few days before Dean’s attacked by the Djinn

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: angst, feelings,

Word count: 2,979 (with lyrics)

Summary: Just a simple watch and report, till the man under surveillance reminds you who taught you everything you know.

Notes: Sequel to “Her” also written for #decadeundertheinfluencechallenge the song I choose is Boulevard of Broken dreams by Green Day. “My shadow’s the only one that walk’s beside me. My shallow heart’s the only thing that’s beating.”

Tag list is open for all fandoms I write for

Dean list: @akshi8278

His boulevard of broken dreams tag list: @cockslut-padalecki

Body shivering from the cold penetrating the cab of your truck dragging the thin crochet blanket tighter around your shaking frame and cursing the day of Sam Winchester’s birth. Searching for the reason you’re parked three blocks down hidden behind an old shed weary eyes searching for any suspicious active. Still wondering why you said yes in the first place. But then the reason rounds the corner and you duck down out of sight. Beat up old truck passed by as you raise neck turned to watch it disappear into the drive. A deep sigh leaving while teeth chatter and rubbing your arms to stay warm. Would’ve used the heat but a running truck gave way that someones sitting, watching.

Thankful you’ve had years of stakeout experience and know all of Dean’s habits. Though you’ve counted a few knew ones since last being in his present. Head shaking those thoughts from your mind especially when you’re there simply as a watch and report. Memories skating back to get three days ago when Sam and Bobby dropped the bomb on your ass.

“We need eyes on him, watching his movements and those around just in case,” golden flecked green eyes stare right through you. Tipping his shaggy brown head to the side Sam gives you a half smile that doesn’t reach those once warm eyes .

Shrugging, “I don’t get why I gotta do this? Why not just bring Dean back into the hunt? Why are you leaving him in the dark about being alive?” Only finding out yourself four weeks ago that Sam Winchester came back from the Pit alive and relatively well. Course you hadn’t believed your eyes at first, flinging a silver dagger at his head which he ducked blade imbedded into the spot his head once resided. Holy water splashed in his face after recovering from almost being shish ka-bobbed.

“Because,” running a hand through that just brushing the collar length brown hair eyes still firmly fixed on you. “He deserves that life Y/N to have peace for once and not worry about what monsters lurk around the next corner.”

“Pff like Dean would ever relax into an apple pie life style Sam. Knowing him there’s salt at every window, devil’s trap under each entryway point. Sawed off shotgun under the bed with holy water and salt right besides.” Your own eyes boring into his not believing his reasons for a second. Seeing one too many differences in the youngest Winchester since his return from death. “You can’t tell me a man like Dean Winchester would consciously not prepare for anything to come knocking at his door. Even if he’s given that life up it doesn’t just fade away, I know.”

Shrugging though there’s a twist to the look he’s giving you almost like he doesn’t truly care what happens to Dean. It’s there then gone making you wonder if you’re seeing things.

Different voice fills in this time,“That maybe so but he’s still entitled to that life. Just as we have to watch his backside to make sure that life stays intact.” Stepping forward to rest a hand on your shoulder, Bobby’s gravelly voice softens a touch know your feelings. Having put you back together after leaving Dean at Lisa’s almost a year ago.“I know this won’t be easy on you kid and I’d do it myself but I gotta get back up to Sioux Falls. Been away too long as is and Jodi already called half a dozen along with every half wit hunter in the area,” giving you a half smile and a pat on the shoulder. Having a soft spot much like the one he harbors for the boys but doesn’t tell them.

“Piece of cake,” brushing the concern off but deep down thankful for Bobby’s reassuring words. “He’ll never see me and I’ll only make sure no bad guys see him.”

I walk a lonely road

The only one that I have ever known

Don't know where it goes

But it's home to me, and I walk alone

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk alone

“So much for this being a piece of cake,” huffing out the words grabbing for the second blanket and thermos filled with coffee. “Hmm cake that’s what I could use right now and a fucking bacon cheeseburger too.”

Passenger side door opening you reach for the 9 mm beside you, aiming it at the familiar brown head of Dean Winchester holding up a grease stained paper bag. “I come in peace and really don’t want to leave pieces plus I bring a peace offering up to the goddess,” soothing laughter edged voice comes from just outside the truck cab.

Thought you’d know that voice even in a crowded party with music thumping bass shaking the very roof shingles. “The fuck you doing Winchester I could’ve blown your head off.”

“Promise?” Wiggling his brow peeking in with that sinful signature smirk tugging at one corner of those plush lips. “Wanna lower that piece before you actually accidentally shoot me Dirty Harry?”

Tossing a balled up napkin at his head amazed at how quickly the same banter flows between you like old times. But it’s not old times and you’re not here to relive them. “How’d you know?”

“Sweetheart you maybe good but I’m still the best,” sliding into the bench seat of the truck, extending the greasy bag towards you. Keeping the door open a moment longer to take in your appearance, interior lighting doing shit for your complexion though to Dean you’re still beautiful as the day you walked out of his life.

Looking from the bag to Dean, “Letting all the cold air in dumb shit close the door,” huddling into the blankets deeper in the guise of trying to keep warm when in reality your shrinking away from Dean. “What’s in the bag?”

Slamming the aged door, hinges creaking in protest, “Thought you’d like something semi warm instead of jerky and lukewarm coffee.” Trying to study your features in the dim streetlamp light. Only catching shadows and angles from his position. Question’s and there’s a lot of them swirl inside his head. Most prominent one isn’t a question but a gut wrenching admission he wouldn’t voice to anyone other than himself.

“Never answered my question Winchester,” taking the offered bag as your stomach growled in hunger. Fresh French fries scented the air upon opening the brown bag. Immediately sticking a hand in and grabbing a few to stuff into your mouth. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome growly,” chuckling marveling at how somethings never change no matter how much time passes. “You always drive the same beat up pickup sweetheart. This might not be Bear,” patting the weathered dash broad in front of him. Affectionate smile tugging at his lips turning his glaze back towards you. “But you always find a truck just like him. Something wrong with yours? Finally gave up the ghost didn’t he?”

The genuine curiosity in his tone isn’t lost on you nor is the way he’s glancing in your direction while stuffing your face. “What something hanging from my mouth?” Wiping at your chin feeling a little self conscious under the weight of his stare.

“No sweetheart it’s just,” shaking his head adjusting himself, back pressed into the door, left leg bent foot dangling and wiggling, a sure sign his nerves are raging through his veins right now. “How’ve you been?”

Swallowing, hating the fact that your once close relationship has slipped into nothing. Remembering the promise — now broken — you made the last time in his presence. Though he knew nothing about it and most likely never really thought about you much after leaving. Biting the inside of your cheek to keep from asking him to finish his first thought. You’re slow to answer, pretending to chew that last bite just a little longer to put off from answering. At a lost to what exactly to tell him. “Good…I’m good very good actually,” forcing the words out through a tightened jaw.

“Hmm,” knowing by your body posture, the constant darting of your eyes all tells him these are lies passing your lips. Part of him wants to know why? Why after almost a year with no visits did you happen to show up now? Suspicion riding him hard and demands the questions be answered. Though there’s that other side, the one he’s artfully kept carefully hidden ever since you stepped out of his life. The one telling him to pull you into his arms, hugging the very life from your body. Holding on to part of his former life one he missed if he wanted to be truthful with himself. Settling on, “Why are you here?”

“Pulling no punches I see Winchester,” bitting off his last name almost like a curse. Warmth of earlier gone with the devoured food now just a memory of greasy bag and dirty napkins. Catching the curt nod from the man himself you sit up straighter looking out over the quiet neighborhood. Carefully kept lawns and white picket fences, trash cans in hiding places and houses in the best shape the apple pie life a fantasy they’ve all talked about. But none manage to obtain till Dean, his name tasting bitter on your tongue. Unused after all those months passing like melting snowflakes. Not wanting to regain that familiarity with the man sitting opposite, eyes drilling unseen holes into the side of your head.

Flinching slightly, hating the way his last name is spit from your mouth like garbage. “You came here remember, your also the one who stayed away don’t lay that shit at my door Y/N.”

“Yes, but your,” turning, eyes flashing in anger towards him, “the one who walked away remember. You left this life, abandon Bobby and Cas… me.” Whispering the last part hoping he didn’t hear.

Scoffing, “I made a promise to Sam,” bitting the name out while trying to keep his emotions in check. “I didn’t abandon anyone if anything you ditched me with no returned calls, texts or even a fucking visit.”

Hearing the bitterness that underlay the deep cadence in his voice, your head shakes trying to hold onto your anger. To not let out why you’re here nor the fact seeing him again after a year dredges up all those old feelings both those of insecurity and yearning. “Why would I stop by when I knew this would happen? When I’d see you with Her wishing for once you had chosen…” bitting your tongue, quickly turning away. “This was a mistake, get out of my truck Winchester.”

“No,” single word leaving those plush lips and making you whip around to stare at him. Mouth gapping like a fish out of water lungs burning for oxygen. “Not till you explain why you’re here. If it’s such a hardship to come why now?” Desperately wanting you to finish the thought but too afraid the answer would break his heart.

Only two things Dean Winchester regrets in his life, letting Sam dive into the pit with Lucifer trapped inside his body and you walking out of his life. Now he walks this life alone with no one truly beside him. Yes, Lisa’s there but unlike you, she doesn’t understand the nightmares, the constant need to double and triple check the windows and doors. The need to keep her and Ben safe always in the fore front of his mind. Many nights — though he’d never admit it — he’d lay awake wondering if he made the wrong choice.

I walk alone, I walk alone

I walk alone, I walk a-

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Till then I walk alone

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, aaah-ah

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah

Schooling your expression and turning towards him prepared to give an Oscar worthy performance not anticipating the lost expression in those whiskey fleck green eyes. Trying to keep the emotions from shaking the timber of your voice, “I’d been in the area figured I’d stop by say hi.” Swallowing harshly licking your dry lips slowly and diverting your eyes back towards the road. “Now I see it’s a mistake, you have a good life and I have mine. So kindly get the fuck out of my truck.”

“I call bullshit sweetheart,” moving closer, Dean reaches out to take the hand nearest and intertwine your fingers together. Familiar gesture doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Touch of his hand searing into your skin like a brand scorching your very soul. “There hasn’t been a mysterious case in the area for over a hundred miles. Now you gonna tell me why you’ve drove out of the way to park on my street three houses down for the last three days?” For the first time in months feeling a peace enclose him like a warm blanket on a chilly winter’s morning. He desperate to keep that warmth to keep you but there’s a little voice in the back of his mind sneering at him ‘it’s too late you’ve lost.’

Eager to pull your hand free yet reluctance stills your movement as emotions swamp your mind with memories of years ago when the two of you still hunted together. Heart pounding a triple time rhythm one yours sure Dean could hear with being so close. Eyes close in a desperate bid to reign in those feelings, to give nothing away and leave just as stoically as last time. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you break.

“Call it what you want Winchester but it’s the truth,” yanking your hand from his to cross arms over your chest. “I don’t care if it’s not the answer you want it’ll be the only one I gave. So I ask, no demand that you get the fuck outta my truck,” last few words hissed through clinched teeth.

And just like that cold water is poured over his head dousing the feelings bubbling up. For the best, his mind screams while turning to reach for the door. “Just so you know sweetheart I never abandoned you, would never I just didn’t think I could give you the life your deserve. I choose the easy way out because even if it doesn’t work with Her at least I would leave with my heart.” Door creaking when opened, Dean stepped from the aged truck slamming it behind him. Sam’s voice in his mind admonishing him for the chick flick moment of weakness.

Each step he took away from your truck tore his heart to shreds. Inter-monologue fighting between cursing at him and knowing that it’s for the best. Pausing for a moment to look back seeing no movement he wonders and not for the first time if he’ll ever see you again. One last look and he turns away back towards his house, not home because you weren’t there and without you and Sam it didn’t feel like home.

I'm walking down the line

That divides me somewhere in my mind

On the borderline

Of the edge, and where I walk alone

Read between the lines

What's fucked up, and everything's alright

Check my vital signs

To know I'm still alive, and I walk alone

Siting in stunned silence searching for what to do if going after Dean is the best course of action or just starting up your truck to drive away is better. Either way would break your heart. Dean’s with Lisa and you’d never make him choose. Never put those kind of demands on the man you love. For a moment longer you sit in silent contemplation wanting to rage at the world, to burn it to the ground and let the remains scatter across the four winds. Head dropping against the steer wheel for a moment till movement catches your eye, someone lurking just outside the well kept community.

Eyes narrowing, scooping up the night vision goggles, a gift from a certain brown eyed FBI agent you helped out of situation a couple of months ago in Texas with a haunted painting. Scanning the area closely, finally coming to rest on a man who out of place. Soft curses falling from your lips. Reaching for the cell to pull up Sam’s number.

“Green light Sammy get your ass down here now seems we got a pest problem luring about.” Tracking the suspicious male till he sprints of at inhuman rate of speed. Pulling the goggles of to toss them beside the empty brown bah.

“Be there by night fall tomorrow Y/N. Dean make you yet?” Weariness in his tone makes you wonder just what he’s up to.

Wanting to lie though deciding against pulling a page from the Winchester play book, “Sadly but nothings leaked just hurry your ass up.” Hanging up to toss the phone into the seat next to you, settling in for a very long night of watching.

I walk alone, I walk alone

I walk alone, I walk a-

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Till then I walk alone

Ah-ah, ah-ah, ah-ah, aaah-ah

Ah-ah, ah-ah

I walk alone, I walk a-

I walk this empty street

On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Where the city sleeps

And I'm the only one, and I walk a-

My shadow's the only one that walks beside me

My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating

Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me

Till then I walk alone

#decadeundertheinfluencechallenge #Dean Winchester x Female Reader #Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader #Dean Winchester x F!Reader #Sequel to Her

71 notes · View notes

sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years ago

Text

Big Secret

Pairing: Kirishima x reader, but also . . . pining!Bakugou

Warnings: Mentions of/implied sex, but nothing actually graphically happening. Gay/Bi/Poly fun stuffs. Bakugou doesn’t like the color pink. Also language from YoU kNoW wHo

Author’s Note:

*sips tea*

So.

Technically, no one asked for this, but I wanted to write it anyway. Then someone requested a sequel, so I made this prequel first (because I had a clearer idea, nothing against them). It doesn’t matter if you read Little Secret or Big Secret first, so do whatever if you’re new.

Little Secret did surprisingly well, so I was more than happy to jump back into the mini AU. This takes place about a month before the events of Little Secret. I could not pick whether this is angst or crack, so I made it both. Both is good.

This is my first crack at angst (haha, see what I did there? I’m so smart and funny). If it’s bad, then it’s kind of just practice for me. If it’s good and you decide you like it . . . hooray! I did something right for once.

Anyway, I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!

-Sugar

⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙

Bakugou stood in front of your door, scowling as usual.

Ever since you and Kirishima had started dating, it felt like the red-haired hard boy was impossible to be reached, constantly spending all his time with you. Bakugou had expected as much when the two of you had announced to him that you were a couple, but this was starting to get ridiculous. He was starting to feel a little too left out, getting angry at how much he found himself missing your presences as you had once hung out interchangeably in all three of your rooms. But that was before, when you were all just friends.

Just friends.

Bakugou shook his head before rapping impatiently at your door. "Oi, (N/N), have you seen Kirishima?"

"I'm in here."

Katsuki immediately recognized the sound of the redhead's voice on the other side of your door, causing him to frown. Of course. Just as he'd anticipated.

"It's open," you called.

And you were in there too. Gods, he hoped he didn't just catch you two doing something disgusting, like kissing or worse. He was almost to the point of praying that the two of you were at least decently clothed when he opened the door.

What he most certainly didn't expect was the sight before him, immediately smacking him in the face the moment he walked in.

Kirishima had just gotten up from laying belly down on the floor, clad only in a pair of loose black sweatpants, defined muscles clearly out for anyone to see. You were right next to him, sitting in your cute pajamas. Bakugou had tried telling you off for copying him by wearing that black tank top like he did, but you had insisted that it had been as much your idea as it had been his. His gaze wandered to your bare legs, accentuated by a pair of short (F/C) shorts.

The most shocking thing however, was the fact that both your faces were slathered in some sort of mint-green paste, hair tied up and pushed back with fuzzy animal-themed headbands.

"Need something, Bakubro?" Kirishima asked, yanking him out of his thoughts before he could get too far down a rabbit hole that would be painfully embarrassing to climb himself back out of.

"You have my notes. I need them."

It was true, Kirishima had asked to borrow Katsuki's lesson notes, like he always did at the end of the week. Upon finding the boy absent from his room, Bakugou could have easily let himself in and taken them off his desk, right where they always were. But for some reason, he'd been driven to go out and find the redhead. He didn't know why. Maybe it was to torture himself. He never knew why he even still bothered being around you two.

There was a new feeling ever since you'd become official; a sickness churning in the pit of Katsuki's stomach. Oddly, he vaguely recognized it from when that damned Deku would constantly show him up, but this one was always much stronger, somehow even more painful.

Why did he wince every time you went to grab Eijirou's hand? Why did he find himself with the urge to go be sick when he'd first seen Eijirou lean over to give you a peck on the cheek? It had been because it was gross couple stuff, right? Bakugou wasn't here for all that nasty touchy-feely stuff. He'd seen his parents do it, and it disgusted him. And now his best friends were doing it with each other; sometimes right in front of him, sometimes when you thought he couldn't see.

But he saw, and he knew. He'd heard you, late that night after training. Heard the two of you noisily entering Kirishima's room, clicking the lock on the door as you'd stumbled to the opposite wall. He'd listened to everything: the telltale sounds of skin meeting skin and coming together. He'd heard both your sweet, pretty voices, desperately trying to keep quiet as foreign waves of feelings coursed through your bodies on the other side of the wall. The thin wall, where every sound was as plain as if the barrier hadn't been there at all.

He should have stopped himself then. He should have given up all hope, closed down all his feelings. He'd laid awake the whole night, thinking about how his two best friends were now seeing each other in this way. You were third years, and having relationships within the class was to be expected. But his best friends? Together? And now it was just him. The sideliner. The outcast. The third wheel. Alone.

He'd been forced to listen. It hadn't been his choice. It was even less his choice when the two of you had approached him the next day, listening one last torturous time to you as Kirishima sheepishly explained that the two of you had become an item. Bakugou pretended like he didn't already know.

He should have stopped hanging out with you, distancing himself as the two of you grew closer. But this had all happened almost four months ago, and he hadn't been able to force himself away from either of you. He couldn't tell if he resented you both or genuinely enjoyed your company.

What did it matter? It was only his stupid emotions, stupid feelings bleeding through his enforced walls. He had other things to focus on, better things. Like being a hero. Training to be at the top of the class, climbing ever higher to surpass All Might and be the number one hero. That was his goal. That was his purpose. It had nothing to do with his idiot, overly supportive best friends—if he could even call you that anymore.

"Your notes?" Eijirou's voice questioned.

"Yeah," Bakugou said. "Where are they?"

"My desk," Eijirou said. "Like always. My door should be open, you could have just taken them."

Bakugou scowled. "Oh," was all he said.

"Hey, we're having a spa night," you piped up.

"I noticed," Bakugou deadpanned.

"Ooh, you should totally join us, Bakubro!" Kirishima's green-caked face slipped into a grin with ease, flashing his ridiculously cute sharp teeth.

"Yeah!" It was your turn to beam, face lighting up in your smile. "Spa night for three!"

Just the three of you. That sounded wonderful. And also absolutely terrible.

Bakugou scoffed. "You're not going to get me to do your childish nonsense. I need to go study. And then sleep."

"The gren-nerd returns," you said, rolling your eyes. "Come on, Blasty, there is such a thing as too much sleep."

"Yeah," Kirishima agreed. "Besides, it's a Friday night. You have all weekend to do whatever. Have some fun with us and lighten up for a change!"

Katsuki glared at you, hovering inside the door frame. You smirked and began pumping your fists in front of you, maintaining eye contact with him.

"Spa night, spa night, spa night—" Your voice took on a low, stage whispered chant, and soon Kirishima joined in next to you.

"Spa night! Spa night! Spa night—!"

"Fucking dammit," Bakugou finally said, slamming the door shut behind him and stomping over to where you were sitting in the middle of your floor. He hurled himself down into a sitting position, trying to make every possible inch of his body language convey that he didn't want to be here. "You're just a pair of idiots and losers."

"I refuse to be cast down by your simplistic labels and insults," you said dramatically, placing a hand on your chest. "Gimme your face. Now."

Bakugou jerked his head back from you, even though you technically hadn't even reached for him yet. "What are you going to do?" he asked suspiciously.

"We must start with the face mask. Eiji, go get him a headband."

"A what?! I am not—"

"Yes, you are," you said firmly. "Unless you want to go take another shower to get it all out of your hairline, because, trust me, it gets everywhere."

Kirishima came back and flopped back down beside you, handing over a fuzzy, pink and white fabric headband with small bear ears stitched onto the side. Bakugou looked from it to the ones you were wearing. You donned a sparkly pink unicorn themed one, decorated with a horn, ears and a fluffy puff of a mane. Kirishima wore one that was very similar to the headband you were now holding, except his was black and white, clearly panda themed.

Katsuki pointed at Eijirou's head. "I want his."

The redhead blinked. "What?"

"Yours is cooler and not pink. I want that one."

You sighed. "Katsuki, it doesn't matter."

"I'm not wearing pink!"

"What's wrong with pink?" Eijirou asked.

"It's too girly!"

"Hey, pink can be a manly color," Kirishima argued. You nodded your head in agreement.

"Then why aren't you wearing it?" Bakugou shot back.

Eijirou blinked. "I, uh—um—"

"See, you don't want to wear it either!"

"That's not—!"

Bakugou lunged towards Kirishima, grabbing at the item keeping his red bangs pushed off his forehead.

"AAH—hey! It's gonna smear—!"

The boys took a moment to scuffle, Eijirou desperately trying to hold back Katsuki's arms as they grabbed at him. You took a moment to look into an invisible camera like you were on The Office, heaving a sigh.

"Alright, that's enough." You pulled Katsuki off your boyfriend by the back of his shirt collar, shoving the pink headband into his hand. "You can either wear the headband, or you can let it get in your hair. Eijirou was here first, so that one's his. Got it?"

Bakugou donned his 'I just bit into a lemon' face, spitting out a "tch" before reluctantly putting it on his head, pulling it up so his forehead was on display.

You noticed the ears were a bit off kilter, leaning a little too far to the left. It set off a tic in your face, making you reach over and straighten it out. You couldn't help but notice how Bakugou froze when your hands and face came nearer to his own, breaths stuttering and slowing to a stop. You sheepishly finished adjusting it, sitting back when you were satisfied.

In all honesty, you'd tried to ignore Bakugou's shift in behavior around you. He was as abrasive and irritable as ever, but there was something in the way you'd noticed him looking at Kirishima. You'd gotten briefly jealous until you realized he often acted the same around you. You told yourself to pay no heed to it, and now certainly wasn't the time to be sorting out and guessing at the feelings of your emotionally closed-off best friend.

"If either one of you takes my picture like this," Bakugou said. "I'm gonna fucking kill the both of you."

"Sure."

You glanced over and made eye contact with Eijirou. One of you had to do just that without him noticing by the end of the night. He was simply too cute not to; the pink matching his ash blond hair just right.

You tore your gaze away from Katsuki. I have a boyfriend right here, who I love very very much, you reminded yourself.

That much was true. Maybe you weren't allowed to order off the menu anymore, but it couldn't hurt to take another glance.

"Alright," you announced. "I'm getting the face mask back out." You got up and walked to your felt storage container of toiletries, grabbing the same green tube and package of face wipes you'd used only minutes prior.

"So why the fuck do you have three of these?" Bakugou asked, referring to his newly acquired pink ears.

"Sleepovers, duh. Also there was a sale and they're really cute and cheap, so there."

Bakugou let out another tch as you sat back down in front of him. You pulled out a wipe and began to work at his face, removing any oils that might have gotten on there throughout the day.

"Relax your face," you ordered, and Bakugou surprisingly complied. "You'll get wrinkles if you keep doing that. You know, the whole frowny thing."

"You sound like my mother, dumbass," he commented, keeping his lips turned down in a frown.

"Well, your mother is right."

"Feh."

You ignored his dismissive noise. "You have really nice skin, you know," you commented, moving back to your seated position and tossing the wipe in the general direction of your trash bin. "Do you have a routine? I found out today that Eijirou doesn't so that's what got us started."

The redhead shrugged behind you, having taken out his phone while you tended to Bakugou.

"Um, I wash it sometimes," Bakugou admitted. "My mom said something about how our sweat helps keep it clear, but she still sends me stuff every now and then."

"Neat." You sighed. "Wish my sweat actually helped my skin. Other than, you know, keeping it cool and whatever."

You took the tube from the floor next to you, popping the cap open and squeezing some onto your fingers.

"What is that stuff?"

"Avocado oatmeal clay mask," you said, glancing at the label. "Purifying."

"Huh."

You leaned forward again on your knees in front of him, beginning to spread the green paste over his cheeks and forehead like you'd done to Kirishima.

"I'm not a baby, you know," he protested. "I can do it myself."

"Oh, come on," you countered. "It's fun having your friends take care of you. Just let me do this."

Bakugou sighed through his nose. He had to admit, there was a teeny tiny part of him that liked how close you were, the way your fingers glided over his cheeks and forehead.

But you had a boyfriend. A very sweet, loving, cheerful boyfriend. He was yours and you were his, and Bakugou was . . . unavailable. He'd stay yours and Kirishima's friend, and he'd just have to accept it.

You finished fixing up his face, going back to your criss-crossed sitting position and wiping your fingers off with a tissue.

"Now what?" Bakugou asked.

"We can wash it off in about ten minutes, we just have to wait for it to dry."

Bakugou sat back, assessing the sensation of the mask on his face. It was cold and sticky, but he had to admit it smelled good. He'd never done anything like this before, and the tiniest part of him actually didn't hate it.

You started talking about a meme you'd seen on Instagram, and you laughed with Kirishima. You both were cute in your face masks and headbands. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but maybe Katsuki would be willing to sit through something like this again if it meant seeing you both like this.

You sat back and seemed to go into thought for a moment, as if trying to decide what to do next. "Eijirou, let me see your nails." He presented them to you, his face questioning. You studied his cuticles, clicking your tongue. "Imma get you some nail oil. We could probably all use some."

You got up again and grabbed the little bottle, twisting off the cap and beginning to brush the liquid onto your boyfriend's nails.

"What does that do, exactly?" he asked, watching you concentrate.

"Strengthens your nails," you explained. "Keeps them hydrated so they won't crack and break off so easily."

"Look at that Bakugou!" Kirishima proudly proclaimed. "I’m gonna have strong, manly nails!"

You giggled, beginning to blow on them so the solution would soak in and dry faster.

"Babe, I just realized something," Kirishima said.

"Yeah?"

"We look like Shrek."

You looked up at him, his face caked in the solid green mask, then turned your gaze to Bakugou. "You know, I wasn't going to say anything, but, yeah, we totally do."

You both started cracking up again, and Eijirou laid down on the floor as he laughed. He had the sweetest laugh, the absolute best. You provided hefty competition, however; your slightly higher voice adding to your own pretty sound.

"No hate on my mans Shrek, though," Kirishima said, sitting back up as his audible joy died down a bit.

"Shrek is love, Shrek is life," you said, nodding your head solemnly.

"I thought I was love. For you." Kirishima's expression changed to puppy eyes, pretending to be more hurt than he was.

"Uh, yes. But I've known Shrek longer than you, so he represents life."

"What the fuck, guys."

You both ignored Bakugou's comment, proceeding to bicker.

"But he doesn't love you like I do," Kirishima argued.

"He's shrekxy."

"I—" Kirishima blinked, shaking his head a little in bewilderment.

"Fite me, it's a scientific fact."

Instead, Kirishima turned his gaze to the blond, who was watching the full affair with barely concealed intrigue. "Bakubro, I'm getting jealous of a fictional 2-D green swamp ogre. I think my girlfriend is going to leave me for him."

"Actually he's 3-D," you corrected.

"See?" Kirishima exaggeratedly gestured at you in mock offense. "She doesn't appreciate me anymore for who I am. I'm going to rebound to you, Katsu."

Bakugou stiffened at the proposal. He knew it was just a joke, but now he couldn't get the thought out of his head of actually being with Kirishima. Allowing his hand to grasp his. Placing a kiss on the boy's cheek. Waking up next to him in the morning. Was that his problem? He wanted what you had with Shitty Hair? Or did he want what Kirishima had with you?

"Like I'd ever date you!" Bakugou finally spat, after maybe a bit too long of a pause. "You're a dumbass idiot, just like your girlfriend. You two are perfect for each other!"

Both you and Kirishima blinked at Katsuki's outburst, turning to make eye contact.

"Thank . . . you?" you said, unsure if you should take it as a compliment.

You were both used to Bakugou being brash and loud, often yelling insults he probably didn't mean. But this was a bit unusual, even for him.

What is going on with you, Katsuki?

You sat back and made a little "pthbb" sound with your lips, taking the cuticle oil and starting to apply it to your own nails.

"So when are you going to go back to rubbing my back?" Eijirou asked, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "Or is that only for Shrek?"

You snorted. "I love you, Eiji. I'd give you a kiss on the cheek to prove it, but you've got some artificial avocado there."

Bakugou's frown shifted a bit. At least the masks were good for one more thing.

"Where?" Eijirou teased, feeling at his face as though it wasn't slathered in a thick layer of green paste.

"Ha ha," you said dryly. "I'll go back to personal masseuse-ing after we wash these off."

"When's that?"

You leaned over and tapped at Bakugou's face, finding his still a little moist. "Five minutes," you wagered.

Eijirou started a conversation about training, lightheartedly arguing with Bakugou over one of his techniques.

You watched the nuances of how the two interacted. They'd been friends for so long, they just sort of flowed together and bounced off each other perfectly. Kirishima was clearly more physical, wrapping an arm around Bakugou's shoulders or touching him on his arm or his back. Bakugou never yelled about this like he would with probably anyone else, instead choosing to silently glower while Eijirou finished his thought.

Finally it was time for the masks to be washed off, the three of you crowding around the sink in your cramped bathroom. Eijirou helped you wipe yours away first with some damp paper towels, delighting in being so close to you and your beautiful face. Bakugou opted to simply wash his own off in the sink, splashing cold water over his cheeks. He watched the little green flakes and chunks swirl down into the drain, some of them catching stubbornly on the porcelain surface.

He straightened and looked at his newly washed face in the mirror. He didn't look or feel any different, sans the fuzzy pink bear ears that still wrapped around his forehead. Bakugou tugged them off, stepping away from the sink so Kirishima could take his own turn in washing.

The blond watched the both of you finish up, Eijirou rubbing gently at his face while you patted toner into yours. There was something so mundane about it, even in your tight closet of a toilet space. He liked the little smile you took on as you gently slapped liquid onto your cheeks, and how Eijirou squeezed his eyes shut and gave little shakes of his head to escape from the rivulets of water streaming over his features.

Kirishima stood back up, taking a look at himself in the mirror much like Bakugou had done moments before. "Wait a minute—I still have acne!" He leaned in and closer examined a small cluster of raised bumps.

"Of course you do, ya goof," you said, snickering and setting down your bottle of toner. "It's just a clay mask. If you want magic, use calamine lotion overnight. That should do the trick."

"Why didn't we do that instead?"

"Because these are more fun. And a lot shorter."

Eijirou shrugged and pulled his own headband off, soft red bangs falling over his eyes. Katsuki took a second to admire it. What would it feel like under his fingertips? He wondered for a brief moment how soft it truly was before he ripped his eyes away again. No. No. NO.

"So are you going to rub my back again?" Eijirou asked, puppy-dog eyes shining at you hopefully.

"Maybe later," you said, sliding your headband over your head and undoing your hair. "Right now it's Katsuki's turn. And mine, if it's not too much trouble."

Kirishima sighed tragically, slumping forward. You grinned and went up behind him, rolling the pads of your thumbs into his shoulder blades. He tilted his head back, sighing and closing his eyes at the feeling.

"Babyyy," he said, drawing out the last syllable. "Don't tease me like that."

You giggled and kissed his shoulder. "I'll get back to you soon enough, just be patient."

Bakugou watched the two of you yet again. He had a strange feeling like this was more complicated for him than it should be. Why couldn't he just pick one of you to hate more than the other and move on? Why couldn't he decide which one of you he would rather be in your situation?

"Yo, Katsu," you said to him, bringing him out of his own head. "Get over here." You had sat yourself back down on the floor in the middle of your room, and Kirishima was stationed behind you.

Bakugou walked over and flopped down in front of you, unsure of what to expect.

"Lay down perpendicular to me," you said, tapping his shoulder.

"What? Why?"

"You'll relax more. Do it."

The blond grumbled a bit more before turning himself and laying down on his stomach. "Happy, dumbass?"

"Indeed." You began to work at his shoulders through the barrier of his shirt. Behind you, your boyfriend did the same, running his large hands over the muscles on your back. "How often do you get this done?" you asked the boy under you.

"What? A massage?" Bakugou was really trying to ignore how good your fingers felt on him, pushing and applying pressure in places he didn't even know he needed.

"Yeah."

"Never," he admitted.

"Wait, what?" Eijirou said from behind you.

"Yeah, how?" you asked, stilling your hands. Bakugou resisted the temptation to squirm under you to get you to resume what you had been doing. "That can't be good what with all the training you do."

"I have those foam rollers," he said. "They work just fine."

"Aw, come on," Kirishima said. Bakugou was glad his face was more or less planted on the floor so he wouldn't have to look up at him. "It feels so much better when you have someone else do it for you."

"Tch."

"Katsuki, Katsuki, Katsuki," you tsked, going back to your motions on him.

The blond quietly sighed through his nose, allowing himself for a moment to sink into the feeling of your fingers dancing over his muscles. As much as he hated to admit it, even to himself, it felt really nice. He was surprised at how skilled you were, alternating between your thumbs and your knuckles to provide the most pressure, working out tension as you went along. Your hands, which were so small compared to his and his friend's.

Maybe he was starting to like this a little too much.

You and Eijirou had picked up another conversation about nothing. Bakugou was more than content to zone in and out of it, picking up on your even voices. He listened to the little breathy sighs you'd let escape as the redhead pushed into your back much like you were doing to Katsuki. They were almost too cute, and the more he was left in his own mind, the less comfortable he became.

He began to shuffle under you, a part of him wanting to get up and leave, another willing himself to stay.

"You comfortable, Bakugou?" you asked him. "Want a pillow or something?"

The way you'd said his family name; Bakugou. He was an outsider. He shouldn't be here. He pushed himself up from the floor and out from under your hands.

"Woah," Kirishima said. "Where you going, man?"

"I need to leave." Bakugou rammed his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants and turned to your door.

"Wait, are you okay?" you asked, moving to get up too. "Did I do something wrong?"

Bakugou ignored you, adjusting his black t-shirt as he flung your door open and shut behind him.

You slumped back into Eijirou in defeat. "What is going on with him?" you lamented, eyes glued to the closed door.

Your boyfriend rested his chin on the top of your head, pondering as you pressed into him. "I have no idea. He's been acting weird for a while . . . . Could it be something going on at home?"

Your eyebrows scrunched a bit in thought. "I don't know about that. Do you think it could be us?"

Kiri shifted himself so he could lean in and look at your face inquisitively. "What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know," you shrugged. "It's just that . . . you and I are together and he's . . . alone. I mean, we're still friends, but he might feel . . . left out."

"Ohhh." Kirishima sat back again, pulling you further into his chest. "What should we do?"

You sighed, curling up against his bare skin. "I don't know."

...

Bakugou sat, finally alone in his room. What was happening? What was going on? What was wrong with him?

He hated this, these new feelings. The jealousy he felt whenever you and Kirishima were close and he was left to the side. He wanted to join you, feeling your arms wrapped around him and Eijirou's kiss on his cheek.

But he would never be able to.

Surely, you both would hate him if he said anything. You'd think he was just being sad and greedy, maybe even a creep. It would completely destroy your relationship with him, and he'd lose the two best friends he'd ever had.

Katsuki's bed dipped beneath him as he sat down onto it, placing his head in his hands. Infinite loops of yes and no spiraled forever around in his brain, willing him to just do something.

But he couldn't. There was nothing he could do. He'd have to choose either parting ways with you both or just feeling this way . . . forever, keeping it to himself. He was tired of it already. He wanted the feelings to go away. He wanted to stop hurting like this and being so confused. His rational mind told him to just turn and leave. It made sense. He'd be able to focus fully on his ambitions and become the best hero ever. And yet a tiny, stubborn little part of him knew, just knew that he wouldn't be able to go. There was something between the three of you, and even the tsundere-lord Bakugou Katsuki couldn't ignore it.

He laid back on his bed, closing his eyes. In the dark, he listened. But this time there was no sound. His mind wouldn't rest however, racing and screaming and hurting. It would be hard, but Bakugou would have to do it.

This would all just have to be his big secret.

⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙●⊙

[Little Secret]

[Disclosed]

Author’s Note:

No happy ending?? Well guess what, this is a three-parter. The epilogue/sequel/part three will be purely Kiribaku(+you) fluff, so get ready for that. I know I am!! Also remember Little Secret exists. CUDDLES!! and TICKLES!! YES!

Thanks for reading,

-Sugar

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @sokkasangel @xoxopam4

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou katsuki #bakugou bnha #katsuki bakugou bnha #bakugou katsuki bnha #bakugou x reader #eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima bnha #eijirou kirishima bnha #kirishima eijirou bnha #kirishima x reader #kiribaku #kirishimaxbakugou #kiribaku x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #sugar fics

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starryevermore · 4 years ago

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i hope ✧ colby brock

pairing: colby brock x fem!reader

summary: you hope she's wilder than his wildest dreams, she's everything he’s ever gonna need.

word count: 2,098

warnings?: cheating, angsty as fuck

note: this isn’t my best but I’ve wanted to write a fic inspired by “I Hope” by Gabby Barrett for a while now soo... if you want to request I write anything, you can do so: here. no, I'm not making a sequel to this.

You wished you could forget him. God, you wished you could fucking forget him. But more than anything, you wished you could forget that day. That stupid fucking day where everything went to shit. Colby Brock, Cole Robert fucking Brock, ruined your goddamn life. There was a point in you life where you would’ve done anything for that man. But, apparently, he didn’t feel the same way anymore.

You were a successful writer with two award-winning novels and several critically-acclaimed short stories to your name. And you were in a happy relationship with famous YouTuber, Colby Brock, half of the Sam and Colby duo. You had met when you were in university. You were sat in cafe near the school’s campus when a tall, blue-eyed beauty waltz through the door. As he got in line, you caught his eye, immediately flushing as you ducked your head to look at your laptop instead of him.

A few minutes passed and you heard someone asked, “Hey, is it cool if I sit with you?”

Your heart stopped when you saw the blue-eyed beauty in front of you. “Uhh, yeah, sure, go for it.”

“Thanks,” he said, flashing you a million-dollar grin. God, did he have to look so amazing? “I’m Colby, by the way.”

“Y/N,” you said, smiling back.

“So, what’re you working on, Miss Y/N?”

“Oh, just a short story,” you said, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “My professor told me about this contest for a big magazine, and I figured I should give it a shot.”

“I’m sure you’ll win,” he said.

You laughed. “You haven’t even read my writing, doofus.”

Colby’s face turned red. “Well—I just—you know, you look the creative type.”

You snorted. “Well, thanks I guess.”

He paused for a second then said shyly, “I would like to read it sometime, if you don’t mind.”

“Hmm, maybe it you work for it.”

“Well, how can I prove to you that I’m worthy to read your writing?”

It was your turn to pause. And, then, you were surprised by your own forwardness. “Take me on a date, and I’ll consider it.”

A grin stretched across his face. “I’d be honored to take you on a state.”

You went stargazing. He took you on this big, long hike that lasted most of the day—primarily because the two of you kept getting lost. Neither of you could read a map for shit. But, as you stared up at the sky, Colby pretending he knew all of the constellations while you gently corrected him, you knew you never wanted the date to end.

By the end of your fourth date, he asked you to be his girlfriend. He could barely get the question out before you were agreeing. He said you were the kind of girl he wanted to share his life with, go through all of the ups and downs with. You believed him. You were an idiot.

But you did go through the ups together.

Six months into your relationship, you graduated and one of your (now former) professors encouraged you to send a manuscript you’d been working on throughout your academic career to be published. After several rejection letters, you’d finally managed to get through to a publisher that wanted to publish your story.

You celebrated for what felt like weeks. Colby kept telling you how proud of you he was, that he knew you were destined for greatness the second you let him finally read that short story all those months ago. Every time he saw one of his friends, he kept bragging about your accomplish. You swore, he told Sam at least twenty-five times before Sam got him to stop. You wished your entire relationship had been like that.

And you went through the downs together, too.

A year into your relationship, Colby introduced you to the fans. He decided to do the classic “Girlfriend Tag” video and it...went over horribly. Your social medias were flooded with hate and animosity for months. People who swore they loved Colby dragged your looks, your writing, your personality, your everything. You had to start limiting comments to stop the hate. All the while, Colby stood by and did nothing.

He said he couldn’t control his fans. He said that, no matter what he said, they’d continue this shit. He said it’d probably get worse if he did anything. But he never tried. He never tried.

This was the start of many, many problems in your relationship. You stopped appearing in his videos as quickly as you had appeared. You figured, if Colby wasn’t going to stop any of the hate, it would at least lessen if people weren’t reminded that you existed in his life. You refused videos, tried to hide yourself when he doing Instagram stories, would leave when Sam’s pizza nights would turn into videos for his channel. Colby said it felt like you were embarrassed of him. You said it felt like Colby didn’t care how you felt.

You didn’t talk to each other for two weeks after that.

When you both finally came back around, you knew something was different. There was just something...off about him. He talked less, kept his phone tucked away, stopped pushing you to be in his videos as much. It was odd. You wondered if he took the argument to heart.

Then you found out the truth.

It was Valentine’s Day, and you had wanted to surprise Colby first thing in the morning. You knew he was big ole softie, so you’d gotten him flowers and a koala plushie, which you were sure he’d love.

You reached his apartment and used the key he’d given you to get inside. And what you sure was... heart-shattering. Curled up together on his couch was Colby...and another woman.

Their heads snapped towards you as you dropped the vase of flowers you’d gotten him.

“What the fuck?” you said, feeling the tears well up on your eyes.

“Y/N!” Colby said, jumping up and moving towards.

You shook your head, “No, stay the fuck away from me. What the hell is this shit? And don’t give me that it’s not what it looks like crap.”

“I...I’m sorry,” Colby said. “I never meant for—” “How long? How long have you been doing this shit?”

He was quiet for a moment.

“I’m fucking waiting, Cole,” you spat.

“Since our fight,” he said quietly.

“Come again?”

“Since our fight,” he repeated.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Of course. I should’ve known.”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I never—”

“He’s all yours,” you said, looking towards the woman. “Hope he treats you better than he ever treated me.”

You tossed the key on the floor, feeling petty, and tossed the koala in the trashcan. God, what a fucking dick, you thought as you retreated from the apartment building. You reached your car and drove out of the parking lot faster than you’d ever driven in your life.

And, as you sped away from the apartment, a song came on the radio. Your song. Yours and Colby’s song.

“FUCK!” you shouted, slamming your hand against the steering wheel. Your heart was beating erratically and you pulled over into a McDonald’s parking lot to get your shit together.

You rested your head against the steering wheel and cried and cried and cried. Where had you gone wrong? Why had he done this? Were you not good enough? No. Fuck that thinking. Colby was a dick. But what had you ever done to deserve him being a dick to you?

You finally managed to stop crying long enough to check your phone. A flurry of texts and missed calls from Colby clogged your notifications. Fresh tears began to well up as you scrolled through the messages.

colby: i'm so sorry. i never wanted it to get this far.

y/n: it should have never been an option in the first place.

colby: you’re right. and, really, i am sorry.

y/n: i know i'm right. go fuck yourself.

y/n: or her. i really don’t give a fuck anymore.

In the months to follow, you still received a steady amount of comments from Colby’s followers. Apparently, he admitted in a live that the two of you had broken up. But he never admitted it was his fault, as evident by the amount of comments you received calling you a bitch for breaking Colby’s heart. If only they knew the truth. But if you told the truth, you knew they’d never believe you. You were a witch in their eyes, a witch who stole the man they loved. They could have him though. You didn’t want him anymore.

You changed your life pretty drastically to avoid seeing Colby again. You changed grocery stores, avoided going to stores during the hours you knew he shopped. You blocked him, and his friends, across all social medias. And when your lease was up, you moved across the city with your best friend to an area he rarely frequented. One day, you’d be ready to confront him, but you knew it wasn’t anytime soon.

But it all came a lot sooner than you had wanted it to.

You were getting ready for a night out with your friends when your roommate, Addi, nervously entered the room. You looked at her through your mirror as you worked on styling your hair.

“What’s up?” you asked, noticing the way her hands shook and how she chewed on her bottom lip. “Is something wrong?

“I saw Colby today,” she blurted out.

“Okay? I don’t care about him anymore,” you said, grabbing a can of hairspray.

“No, Y/N,” Addi said, grabbing a hold of your arm. “I saw Colby today, with another girl.”

Your heart stopped in your chest. You didn’t know where to look, so you looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to collect yourself before you broke down about that stupid fucking man again. “Was it—”

“No, another girl. A different girl. They...They looked happy.”

You sucked in a breath. Fuck, that hurt a lot more than you thought it would. “Oh. Um, well, thank you for telling me, I guess.”

“Are you okay?”

You looked down, focusing on picking out a lipstick that matched your outfit. “I will be.”

“If you need to talk—”

“Can I please finish getting ready? I don’t want this night ruined because of that dick.”

“If you’re sure,” Addi said, turning to leave. “You don’t have to bottle up your feelings, you know. You need to vent.”

“And I will. When I’m ready.”

That night, as you stood at the bar of whatever club your friends drug you too, you wondered if you ever would be ready. But you didn’t have to wonder for long.

An all-too-familiar voice came from behind you. “Y/N?”

You turned, seeing the blue-eyed bitch wringing his hands together as he looked at you. “Colby,” you said coldly.

“How are you?” he asked.

“Good,” you said. You weren't sure where to take this conversation, so you said the first thing that came to your mind— “I heard you’re seeing someone.”

He paused. “Yeah, I am.”

You nodded slowly, and then said, “If you don’t mind me saying, I hope she makes you smile the way you made me smile. I hope you hear a song that makes you sing along and gets you thinking about her, then the last several miles turns into a blur. I hope you both feel the sparks by the end of the drive.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, that’s very nice—”

“Not done yet,” you said. “I hope you know she's the one by the end of the night. I hope you never ever feel more free, tell your friends that you're so happy. I hope she comes along and wrecks every one of your plans. I hope you spend your last dime to put a rock on her hand. I hope she's wilder than your wildest dreams, that she's everything you're ever gonna need.”

“Well, thank you—”

You held up your hand. “And then I hope she cheats, like you did on me.”

And, as he stood there with a slack jaw, you turned on your heel, off to find your friends, to find the people who would never hurt you. Fuck Colby Brock, and fuck him for breaking your heart. You could only hope that fate would give him exactly what he deserved.

#sam and colby #colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic #colby brock fanfiction #colby brock angst #colby brock fic #colby brock fan fiction #sam and colby fanfic #sam and colby fanfiction #sam and colby fic #sam and colby fan fiction #starrywrites #starrybrock

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 4 years ago

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Day 8: Dot, Dot, Dot (Agent Whiskey)

Day 8: Dot, Dot, Dot - Agent Whiskey

Pairing: Whiskey x Reader (Agent Apple)

Rating: 18 + for language and mention of abuse/torture

This is kind of a sequel to day one of the November writing challenge but can be read as a stand alone, if you would like to read part 1 I will link it below.

Part 1 (Day 1: Heartbeat- Agent Whiskey)

November Writing Challenge Masterlist

Day 7: Sculpted - Javier Pena

I’m pregnant. - Apple

… - Whiskey

To be fair there was probably a better way to tell your boyfriend of eight months that you were carrying his baby instead of a text message but you panicked. The worst part of the whole thing was Whiskey’s reply or lack of. All day long you had been staring as the dot, dot, dot appeared on the phone before quickly disappearing. It was also probably a horrible time to do it while he was on a mission in India trying to take down a new crime syndicate that had popped up over there. Minor details right?

It had been six hours since you had sent that text, and you had hoped for a least some sort of reply even if just an ok would have been fine. But, the waiting was killing you. Is he mad? Is he happy? Is he worried? Nervous? Excited? Your head began to spin before you took a seat in the lab chair with your head in your hands.

You nearly screamed when a warm hand landed on your shoulder, “Whoa, Apple it’s just me!” Your best friend Tequila shot his hands in the air like he was surrendering, “are you ok? You're more jittery than a jackrabbit.”

“....No” you can’t help the tears streaming down your face, and Tequila quickly pulls you into a hug.

“What did that old bastard do? Did he hurt you?” Tequila asks in a rush rubbing circles on your back, “Whatever it is I’ll kill him for you.”

You pull back, “NO! Please, don’t hurt him, he didn’t do anything wrong. It’s...oh I did something stupid Tequila and now I don’t even know how to fix it. I told Whiskey I was pregnant in a text message while he is gone on a mission and he hasn’t replied. I’m freaking out!”

Several emotions passed across Tequila’s face in quick succession before shock stayed, “WAIT YOUR PREGNANT?!” he shouts across the lab. You jump up quickly slapping your hand over his mouth, “SHHHHHH! Goddamnit Tequila do you want the whole world to know!?”

“Ok...ok yeah I’m sorry I just...how the hell? Well I know how babies are made but weren’t ya’ll using something? What the hell happened?” Tequila asks, going to hug you close again.

You rest your head on his chest, arms wrapped tightly around his waist. “We always do, it was only ONE time a few months ago when he got home from that three week mission in Cambodia and I picked him up from the airport...I was just so dang excited to see him and I couldn’t wait to get home so...we kind of had sex in my car in the parking lot.”

“God Apple, I was in that car yesterday when we went for lunch and now you're telling me that’s where you conceived you and Whiskey’s baby. I will never look at that car the same again.”

You groan loudly before the sobs start again, damn hormones. “I was so nervous when I got the call that I didn’t even think before I texted him and now look what I get to see all day!” You whip out your phone shoving it towards Tequila’s face.

“Dot, dot, dot… that’s all he wrote?” Tequila asks incredulously.

“Yeah that’s it! Oh shit I have completely screwed this up haven’t I? He’s not going to want this, I mean especially after what happened to his wife, and we’ve only been together a few months, and-”

“Do you love him?” Tequila cuts you off with his question.

“Yes,” you answer without having to think about it, “Of course I love him.”

“Then that’s all that matters. Just give it time, he should be back any day now from his mission and you will sit down and talk this through…. Apple do you want to have this baby?”

“Yes,” it was the truth, since the moment the doctor’s office had called and confirmed the baby it became yours and Whiskey or not you were going to have this baby.

“Ok then I have your back 100%, Uncle Tequila is going to be with you, every single step of the way.” Tequila pulls you back into a hug and you melt into his arms, knowing everything was going to be okay.

The rest of the day and the three days following that are a blur. You haven’t heard anything more from Jack and your feeling more and more depressed about it. Luckily Tequila is there to pick up the slack, he makes sure you're eating, drinking lots of water, and even goes with you to the first ultrasound appointment. Telling the nurse very proudly that he’s the baby's Uncle. When you both saw the sonogram for the first time, you honestly couldn’t tell who was crying more.

On the fourth day since you had sent the dreaded text message you finally heard from Jack. A single text message.

Meet me in my office. - Whiskey

Your heart leapt out of your chest and you reread the message over and over again before pinching yourself to make sure it was real. It was. You walk out of the lab in a sort of trance going over to the elevator and hitting the button for the eleventh floor. The whole ride up you feel like throwing up and you honestly don’t know if that’s from nerves or the pregnancy.

When you reach the large oak door, you knock hesitantly, the door swings open almost immediately and you are grabbed quickly before being yanked forward. The door shutting behind you. The room is pitch black and you can’t make anything out except that someone is holding you tightly against the door, their hands running all over your body. Before a warm mouth lands on yours. You sigh, you would know those lips anywhere.

“Jack” you moan when you're able to catch your breath, “Jack, what the hell are you doing? Turn on some lights in here.”

Jack's breathing is labored and you reach behind you for the light switch. When the light comes on you gasp. Jack never looks anything but immaculate but right now he’s a mess. No shoes, dirty jeans, wearing nothing but a sweat and blood drenched white t-shirt, and let’s not forget the bruises. His hands are slightly swollen, and purple, he’s leaning heavily on his right side, a black eye, and his nose looks broken. But all of that is nothing compared to his eyes, bloodshot, exhausted, and glassy with unshed tears.

“Oh...my god, Jack what the hell happened to you?” You rush around the room pulling his chair closer before you sit him down in the chair. You run over to the phone calling for Ginger in the lab to come with a med kit.

You try to help him remove his shirt but he’s hurt bad. You grab the scissors off his desk and begin cutting your way down the shirt. Underneath there’s even more bruises and a long jagged line made by some kind of knife. Ginger arrives moments later and gasps at his state, saying he arrived an hour ago and didn’t say anything to anyone. The two of you work quickly to get him patched up and healing, applying alpha-gel and bandages where needed. It’s only when you begin stitching up the wound on his chest that Whiskey breaks.

The tears slide down his cheeks and he openly sobs. Ginger looks at you and you nod letting her know she can leave before you kneel in front of Jack. “Baby, what’s wrong? We will get you all healed up, you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

“They took my phone,” the broken voice of your lover leaves you breathless, “I was tortured for days and one day they came in and showed me the message from you...they told me I was never going to see you again...that they were going to kill me, and I would never see you or our baby ever again.”

Your heart begins to beat even faster and the tears begin to form in your own eyes, before you reach up and gently put your hands on his cheeks. “Baby, it’s over now. You're not there anymore. I’m safe, we’re both safe.” You remove your hands to put them over your slightly raised bump. Jack looks down before putting his hands over yours.

“I’m done sugar,” he whispers brokenly, and for a moment you fear he means with you, “I am going to tell Champ today, I can’t do field work anymore. I don’t want to miss a single moment in our child’s life.”

“But...Jack you love being a field agent…” you start but he quickly cuts you off.

“I LOVE YOU MORE!” he shouts, “I….I can’t be a field agent and have you waiting around for me to not come home from a mission. I don’t want our baby not to know his or her father. I know we haven’t been together long but I am going to always choose you because I have been in love with you for a lot longer than we’ve been together!”

You don’t move for several minutes before you quietly respond, “oh Jack I love you too baby. I want to be with you and raise this baby with you and grow old with you.”

“Sugar, I want that too. So goddamn much,” he pulls you towards him pressing his mouth hard to your own.

When you break apart you ask him quietly, “Would you like to see our baby?”

Jack nods quickly before helping you to stand. You go back over to the door where you had thrown your lab coat off and riffle through the pockets looking for the sonogram photo. You take it out and hand it to Jack.

Jack spends a long time just staring at the picture of the tiny human growing inside you. When he finally looks up at you, fresh tears are making their way down his face. Your own cheeks are wet with them as well. He gently places the photo on the table before gesturing you forward. His hands reach out for you and when you get close enough he pulls your shirt up slowly. His hands rub gently over the small mound and he places his lips to your stomach.

“Your daddy is here, little one. No one is ever going to take me away from you or your mama again. I will be here for you every step of the way. I love you so much,” Jack looks up meeting your eyes and you see the reflection of love in his eyes back at you.

Day 9: No, you don’t -Maxwell Lord

#kingsman golden circle #Kingsman #Agent Whiskey #agent tequila #jack whiskey daniels #Agent Whiskey x reader #Pedro Pascal #November writing challenge #Day 8 #I'm tired #It's midnight

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losille2000 · 3 years ago

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The Swan, Chapter 6

TITLE: The Swan CHAPTER NUMBER: 6/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 WHICH Tom/CHARACTER: Actor!Tom GENRE: Romance/Drama FIC SUMMARY: Sequel to The Ugly Duckling. Astrid embarks on a two-week trip to London to serve as her sister’s maid of honor, hoping against all hope she might miraculously run into her Hawaiian mystery man. When her sister and soon-to-be brother-in-law drag her to a production of Hamlet to meet the groom’s best man, Astrid gets the shock of her life. The situation, though, is anything but perfect. RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS: None in this chapter. AUTHORS NOTES: So... what can I say? It's been a while. If you want the whole story, you can look through my blog or message me. I'm happy to answer. That said, it's been a good three years since I did any serious writing. My writing muscles need to build back up to what they were before. Please be kind... and let me know what you think. :D

Chapters: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - ALSO ON AO3!

Chapter 6 - Flying the Coop

Regret.

Astrid regretted ever stomping up those stairs to Tom’s bedroom. She regretted challenging him to make a move. She regretted letting him have his way with her. In the moment, it seemed right. Maybe if they slept together again, they’d find an incompatibility, especially now that the air of tropical mystery had dissipated and left in its place two broken flesh-and-blood people.

How wrong could she have been?

Now it was amplified, deeper, hotter, engulfing.

Only two weeks for whatever this fire was to fizzle?

It wasn’t, as the Brits say, bloody likely.

And here she was, smack dab in the position she didn’t want to be in; no matter how tangentially her current association with her mother, the family business, and Hollywood was, being connected to Tom in this way presented too many problems to even consider at this point. And fucking him—

“Astrid, are you even listening to me?”

Astrid jumped from the intrusion, letting out a slight squeak. She blinked hard and turned in her spot to look at her sister, who stood in the middle of the furnished but unoccupied flat. “Sorry?”

“Are you okay?” Tilde asked. “You’ve been spacey after the dress shop— and I’m just worried.”

“You don’t need to worry.”

“Let me worry,” she begged. “Let me be the big sister I never got to be.”

Astrid laughed ruefully. If only she could actually talk with Tilde about Tom. She wouldn’t understand, or at the very least, it could pose some very difficult situations in the coming days with the wedding right around the corner. But, Astrid guessed, Tilde meant the other elephant in the room... Astrid being the elephant, and their mother being a Class A narcissist. Because there was absolutely no way Tilde would know about what had happened at Tom’s home...

“It’s too late for that, Tilde,” Astrid said. “You know I love you. I just— there’s no changing her.”

Tilde grumbled and glided over to the couch in the living room. She dropped down on top of the cushions, barely displacing the pillow stuffing with her slight ballet-formed frame. “I should have never allowed her to do all this. I should have done it on my own, it’s not like Jim and I are so hard up. But I thought...”

Astrid held up a hand to stop her sister and sat on the couch more gingerly than Tilde, measuredly, so as not to displace any stuffing in the overstuffed couch, either. Something her mother had taught her, after all: If you’re not going to put in effort to look like a lady, you can at least act like one.

God, even that memory still hurt, down to the marrow in her bones.

“But you did.” Astrid shrugged and laid her head on the back of the couch. There, she sighed.

The sisters sat in silence for some time, listening to Duchess rooting around the flat for something to chew on. When the pug found nothing, she eventually jumped up onto the couch and snuggled into Tilde’s lap.

Astrid cleared her throat. “It’s not all Mom, either. I’m just tired from jet lag and getting everything together for the house party.”

And sleeping with the Best Man. She was pretty sure she’d read a romance novel or a hundred about this situation once. Did that make her a cliché?

“Oh, I meant to ask,” Tilde interjected. “How did that go? Tom was a total tool last night and I was worried about today.”

Astrid licked her lips subconsciously; she could still taste the sugar left by a bite of tiramisu Tom had given to her on a fork. If she concentrated hard enough, she was sure she could still taste the salt of his skin mixed in with it. She could certainly feel the tight muscle in her thigh that pulled every time she shifted, from the way he’d bent it and held it firmly in place as he’d had his way with her.

Frankly, it was a miracle they’d accomplished anything after they ended up in bed. But, she supposed, that was the weirdest part about the whole afternoon. They got out of bed, dressed without speaking and just... worked on what they needed to for the party. There was no discussion. No arguing. Tom stayed a respectable distance from her; she wasn’t sure if she had really wanted him to do it again, over and over, until they were both exhausted. They ate lunch quietly, they got everything organized and packed into his Land Rover, then Tilde showed up and they bade farewell, like it was something they did every day.

Nothing more was said about Hawaii, or a relationship, or lies, or having this end in two weeks. He seemed to be ignoring the topics all together, likely in the misguided belief that if he didn’t bring it up, then everything was fine. She ignored them because discussing WHY she refused to become a true part of his life was too painful.

Astrid pursed her lips and closed her eyes again. Isn’t that what she told him she wanted, though? To feel worshipped and then go about their lives, like nothing happened? Ignore all the elephants and enjoy the sex. No emotion, only sex. He was just following her demands, his need too great to put the brakes on their interlude in his bed.

The problem was that she did want more with him. She wanted emotion and relationships and rainbows and butterflies. When she had thought of him as some wealthy businessman she might once again bump into while visiting London, this had been possible. She had, after all, imagined a reality over the last eighteen months that included falling in love with him and living a life together.

But he wasn’t a businessman. He was an actor. He ran in circles she just couldn’t stomach anymore.

“It was fine. We finished everything and packed it all into his Land Rover for the drive up to Cliveden,” Astrid finally said. “The costume deliveries will be there when we arrive.”

“This really has gotten out of control,” Tilde said. “Part of me just wants to run to the register office and get it over with.”

Astrid shook her head violently. “You do that, and I’ll flip the fuck out. I put too much work into this.”

Tilde laughed. “Scared you, huh?”

“I’m serious, Tilde,” Astrid said, lightly smacking her sister’s thigh. Duchess popped her head up, and thinking it was an invitation for her, came over to her aunt. Astrid cuddled the dog close to her chest, breathing in her freshly bathed fur.

“She likes you,” Tilde said.

Astrid kissed Duchess’ head. “Small children and dogs, apparently.”

Tilde chuckled softly before letting out a long sigh. “I bet she would really like it if her Aunt Astrid were around more.”

“Aunt Astrid is a teacher and never has any time,” she replied directly to Duchess. Duchess reached for the hand that had stopped petting her and touched it with her paw. Her imploring buggy pug eyes asked Aunt Astrid for more.

Tilde huffed, but said nothing more for a long time. Then she cleared her throat. “How do you like the flat, anyway?”

“It’s nice,” Astrid confirmed. In fact, it was nicer than “nice.” This flat looked like one of those staged ads in a real estate magazine with lots of recessed lighting, soft gray colors, top-of-the-line furnishings and a ton of space.

“We’re trying to decide if we’ll sell it or keep it as an investment property,” Tilde replied. “It’s kind of a pain in the ass as a rental property, though.”

Astrid nodded. “You could just give it to Dad’s company to manage.”

Not that doing so was a great option, either.

If Astrid saw her mother irregularly, she saw her father even less. After their separation, he spent time in Las Vegas developing a new casino concept and then, when Astrid graduated from UNLV, moved his business operations permanently back to Sweden. Still, though, the relationship with her father was better than it was with her mother, simply by virtue that he was never around and didn’t have an opportunity to find the weaknesses in her armor like her mother. Tilde rarely spoke about either parent, but Astrid was certain their relationship was similar.

Tilde sat up and turned to look at Astrid seriously. “Or you could move into it.”

“Excuse me?” Astrid said, her heart skipping a few beats, from a sudden surge of anxiety and... something else.

“I’m serious, Astrid,” she said. “We don’t see each other enough and I want to spend time with you and make up for all those years we were apart.”

This wasn’t just some passing fancy. Astrid could see that as plain as day on Tilde’s face. Her sister was determined to convince her to move to London. But for what? She had no support system other than Tilde and James... and her career... well, that was back in Las Vegas.

Not that Las Vegas itself was the most amazing place to live and work.

“I’d never see you anyway,” Astrid argued. “You’re always rehearsing, or preparing to rehearse, or performing. And god knows James is going to be busy doing whatever.”

“Yeah, about that...” Tilde said, trailing off quietly. She picked at the dog hair on her sweater for a few seconds, then slowly looked back at Astrid. “I’m retiring at the end of this season.”

“What?!”

Tilde shrugged. “James and I want a family, and if I wait until it’s a ‘good time,’ it’ll never happen because of our schedules. And really, it’s getting harder and harder to come back from injuries and such. I just... I need a long break from being a performing ballerina. I don’t have the fire I once had, the same will to fight for every goddamn role.”

Astrid simply nodded. This was huge news. Ballet was Tilde’s life. She’d been doing it since she was a little girl, had impeccable skill and training and talent for it. The joke was that Tilde had come out of the womb in pointe shoes.

Which wasn’t that far from the truth, really. As soon as their mother could, she’d gotten Tilde into dance with the best instructors money could buy. Their mother, the failed ballerina, always lived through them. Which explained why she did not like anything about Astrid— Astrid did not have anything that would benefit her.

“Have you told Mom yet?” Astrid asked.

Tilde shook her head. “Of course not! And listen to her prattle on about how I’m a failure and she gave me so much and I’m just a terrible person? No, thank you. I’ll wait until she is permanently back in LA before I tell her.”

Even though Tilde had not yet told anyone else, it somehow eased the tension in Astrid’s shoulders knowing that Tilde would be in their mother’s crosshairs for a change. Typically, that wasn’t the case; their parents always treated Tilde like the perfect golden child. Of course, Tilde had always been one of Astrid’s fiercest allies… when she could. However, since Tilde spent most of her life in London studying at the Royal Ballet from a very early age, support and camaraderie had been scarce. Now, though? Now it felt like she and Tilde could weather the storm together.

Tilde continued, “Yeah. I’m thinking about opening up a dance studio and then after the baby thing happens, if I still have the performing bug in me, then I’ll start guesting. But I’m just so excited to start having babies.”

Stopping the smile from forming on Astrid’s lips was impossible as she registered the excitement on Tilde’s face. Astrid felt the enthusiasm coming from Tilde’s corner of the couch. “I’m excited for you, Tilde.”

And she was. She truly was.

Tilde reached out and grabbed Astrid’s hand. “I’m serious, though, Astrid. We never had a great family growing up, and I see this as an opportunity to right the wrongs of the past and create the family we should have had growing up.”

“I don’t know, Til.”

“James and I have both talked about it a lot and we both agree.”

“Tilde, even if I did move here,” Astrid began, “I don’t know the first thing about teaching in England.”

Tilde nodded. “I know. But James’ parents are retired teachers. I’m sure they’d be willing to help you make heads or tails of it.”

Astrid pursed her lips and turned to stare at the dormant fireplace sitting in front of them. Duchess, who had not moved, made happy dog purr noises as Astrid massaged the tiny velvet triangles of her ears. To be fair to Tilde, Astrid had often thought of moving to London to be nearer to her, but she never thought it would happen or that Tilde would actually need or want her here. The fact that she was wanted made emotion spring to her eyes and prick at them until they watered.

But then, there was the other issue.

The really, super, ginormous issue that came in the shape of a devastatingly handsome British man she met on vacation. If she moved to London, she’d certainly be seeing him more. No clean break at the end of two weeks like she hoped.

“And, you know,” Tilde said, “London’s arts scene is stupendous. We have the hook-up. I thought you could get back into it. You can hardly do that in Las Vegas.”

Astrid snorted. “Tilde, that part of my life is over.”

“Why? You’re amazing. I remember the video you sent of your college production of Othello. There wasn’t a dry eye in the place.”

While Tilde’s appreciation for her talent warmed Astrid’s heart, it didn’t take away the sting of her mother’s actions. Astrid couldn’t even bring herself to discuss it with Tilde when it first happened, much less in the intervening eight years since the incidents that led to her total disavowal of all things acting related. Her silence on the matter, though, had finally come home to roost. First with Tilde telling Tom she was still an actor, and Tom calling her a liar because she told him she wanted nothing to do with it. And now, with Tilde staring her down imploringly. Tilde wanted answers just as much as Tom did, except for very different reasons.

Astrid could not force her suddenly leaden tongue to move in her mouth. Tilde would just have to live with not knowing the whole story, for now. Finally, she said, “If I move to London, I’m not going to be acting.”

“Well, I guess I’ll take that,” Tilde replied. “As long as you’ll still consider moving here to be with me.”

A knock at the front door startled them all, sending Duchess barking and wheezing to the door. The door opened and James popped his head inside. “Knock knock.”

“Come in!” Tilde sang back to him, jumped from her seat, and nearly leaped over the back of the couch to get to him like he was a cold glass of lemonade on a hot day. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him squarely. For a brief, possibly irrational, moment, Astrid was jealous of her sister and the relationship she had built with James.

Which wasn’t a great feeling to have if the plan was to spend more time with them. How could she uproot her entire life— leave her students and friends— and move halfway across the globe just to be consumed by the green-eyed monster?

“Babe,” Tilde said, “tell Astrid she needs to move to London.”

James laughed and turned to look at Astrid. “Astrid… you need to move to London.”

“Thank you!” Tilde pecked his cheek and pirouetted in place until she was facing away from him. She started walking back toward the bedroom. “Let me go get my purse and we can get going.”

When Tilde was gone, and the flat was mostly silent except for more of Duchess’ puggy wheezing as she calmed, James’ smile dropped into a stony seriousness. He stepped over to her and quietly murmured, “We would love to have you here, Astrid. But I understand if you don’t want to come. The decision has to be yours, and if you decide not to move, I will handle Tilde.”

Astrid was grateful for James’ level-headedness in the situation. In the short time she’d known the man, she found that he was a gifted reader of rooms. That was why he was so good with Tilde— a steady anchor in a turbulent sea. Clearly, he understood the anxiety twisting her stomach into knots.

She set a grateful hand on his arm and squeezed appreciatively. “Thanks, James.”

“And don’t let my association with Tom cloud your judgement,” James said.

Astrid withdrew her hand like he’d burned it. Her eyes snapped up to his, then focused outward on the rest of his features and body language. She didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Tom must have told James, despite that she asked him not to.

Unless Tom had told James last night…

“How do you...” She trailed off, turning her gaze and trying to hide her blush.

“He’s my best man for a reason. We tell each other everything,” James replied. “I had hoped that your work today would allow you some time to figure things out before more of this wedding commenced and caused a problem.”

Astrid gulped. “Does Tilde know?”

James shook his head silently.

“Good,” Astrid replied. Good for two reasons, really. The first, because it confirmed for her that the invitation to come to London wasn’t Tilde playing matchmaker. The second, because she still didn’t want anybody to know about it. “Wait… how much did he tell you?”

James stared back at her, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a slight curl at the corner of his mouth. “That would be breaking the Code.”

Her face now completely aflame, Astrid bent down and grabbed Duchess into her arms. She couldn’t even look at the man anymore without feeling embarrassed. Hopefully, it would pass quickly.

“Bad news!” Tilde called from the hallway as she came back into the room. Her thumbs moved rapidly over the screen of her iPhone. “Mother decided we needed an all hands on deck dinner tonight.”

Astrid groaned. “In addition to or replacing the one tomorrow night at Cliveden?”

“In addition to,” Tilde said. “Tom can’t make it tonight because he has the cast party, and Dad isn’t even in England yet, so that’ll be the official one. Tonight is probably just more nitpicking.”

“Do we have to?” Astrid whined.

Tilde sighed heavily and dropped her phone into her purse with agitation. “Strength in numbers, dear sister.”

Her sister's proclamation made the summons to dinner no better, but Astrid and James dutifully followed Tilde out of the flat and out to the car. The only saving grace was that Tom wouldn't be there. Astrid could focus on one problem, not two.

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