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cosmicbucky · 1 year ago

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chronicles

summary: the story of you and bucky as told through different dates

pairing: bucky barnes x female reader

word count: 3274

warnings: fluff, allusions to mature themes, brief swearing, implication of major death (i'm sorry in advance)

a/n: this is a rewrite of one of my old fics that i deleted lol - (time travelling)

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

《《April 17th》》

You finished curling the last strand of hair, pinning it all neatly in place before staring at your reflection. You analyzed every inch of your face, scrutinizing each choice - was the lipstick the right shade? Were your cheeks too pink? Was your hair proper enough?

“Well, are you ready? It’s been ages!” you heard through the door, your best friend’s voice pulling you from your trance.

You cleared your throat, dabbing your hands along your hair to press down any flyaways. “Coming!”

You pulled open the door, coming face to face with her as she leaned against the wall opposite you. She grinned, eyeing you up and down as you ran your hands along your dress, absently wondering if it was the right choice.

She whistled playfully, chuckling softly. “Don’t you clean up well! This boy won’t know what hit him.”

You smiled confidently, your worries momentarily disappearing. “Thanks, sugar.”

A few beats of silence passed before a light knock came from the door of your tiny apartment. You gave your friend a pointed look, the nerves flooding back in an instant.

She smiled reassuringly at you, lightly shoving you down the hall. “Don’t be nervous. He’s a great guy, and he practically begged for a date with you,” she reminded you, hot on your heels.

You nodded, taking a deep breath as you entered the living room. “Okay. You’re right. I got this.”

Confidence restored within you, you walked over and opened the door, grinning at the sight.

“Well, don’t you look beautiful,” he greeted with a smile, eyes quickly trailing over you. “As always,” he added with a wink.

“Thank you, James,” you said with a giggle, heat rising in your already pink cheeks as you took in his appearance; a well fitted suit, new looking shoes, slicked back hair. He really is as dashing as everyone says. “You look quite lovely yourself.”

He smiled and laughed, holding his hand out for you to take. “I told you. Call me Bucky.”

《《June 22nd》》

“Do you wanna go for a walk?” Bucky asked, sprawled out on the floor of his bedroom as you took up his bed.

You blinked up at the ceiling in shock before craning your neck to look down at him. “A walk? Buck, it’s a million degrees outside!” you said incredulously.

You were currently stuck in one of the worst heat waves to hit the city in years, and no matter how little you had on (in the privacy of yours or Bucky’s bedroom, of course) your skin still felt like it was melting off. Especially considering the activities that always resulted from the two of you wearing next to nothing; though, how could you ever complain about that?

Bucky sighed dramatically, groaning as he sat up. “Yeah, yeah, I know. But I’m going stir-crazy here and I figured me, you, and Stevie could go get some ice cream.”

You opened your mouth to say no, but you were met with puppy dogs that you can never say no to- and he knew it.

“Alright,” you agreed, sitting up to get dressed. “You owe me one,” you teased, slipping on your blouse.

“Anything for you, doll,” he agreed, smiling brightly. He jumped up and threw his clothes on in a matter of seconds, running to his door. “Steve, get your punk ass up! We’re going to get ice cream!” he called down the hall.

It was silent for a moment, before footsteps were heard puttering about in the room beside you. “Okay!” came his reply, muffled through the wall.

You giggled quietly and finished dressing, taking Bucky’s hand and heading to the living room where Steve was already waiting.

The three of you strolled down the sunny street, Steve a few paces behind as you and Bucky chatted about how quiet it was with everyone hiding away inside. Steve never paid any mind to the fact that he was constantly a tagalong - you were always kind to him, and if he was being honest, he enjoyed watching the happiness that radiated from you and Bucky.

After a few agonizingly hot minutes, you all arrived at the parlour, quickly entering and placing an order as Bucky paid for everything.

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve mumbled through a mouth full of ice cream, trying to eat it all before it was lost to the sun.

“Yes, thank you, honey,” you agreed, giving him a sweet kiss that tasted like vanilla and strawberries.

He smiled into the kiss, chasing your lips before grinning at you and Steve. “Any time.”

《《October 3rd》》

“You are such a jerk!” you yelled at Bucky, huffing in exasperation.

“Oh, come on! It’s not my fault I’m better than you,” he argued back.

You glared at him for a moment before turning back to your pad of paper. “Stop sinking my stupid ships,” you mumbled angrily, marking another X on the page.

Bucky only laughed at you, shaking his head. “Come on, love. We can quit playing if you want.”

You scoffed. “I don’t need your pity. We’ll finish this.”

He laughed at you once more, and as you watched his eyes crinkle and face glow, you suddenly weren’t mad that he was winning any more. You were simply just happy to have this ridiculous man in your life.

“Alright, you sulk. Take your shot, let’s go. Try harder this time,” he teased, smirking at you.

You narrowed your eyes at him and set your shoulders, confidently declaring your next move.

He studied his page for a moment before he slumped his shoulders, tossing his pencil onto the table. “Well,” he declared. “I’ll be damned”

“No way,” you doubted, a grin working its way onto your face.

He smiled at you, shrugging his shoulders. “You win, baby.”

You squealed gleefully, throwing your hands up in victory as you rambled on about being better than him.

Bucky stayed where he was, watching you in pure delight, amazed at how the littlest things can make you so happy.

After a few moments you settled down, turning your gaze back to him. “Maybe next time,” you said sympathetically, unable to keep the grin off your face.

Shaking his head with a laugh, he leaned over the table and gave you an affectionate kiss. “Maybe next time,” he agreed with a soft smile.

As he left to get you both a drink, you began putting away the game and couldn’t help but laugh as you took his sheet.

“Hey, don’t look at that!” you heard him say as he returned to the room, rushing to set the drinks down and take it from you.

“I barely sunk any ships, Buck,” you concluded, trying to take the sheet back.

“I know,” he agreed with a nod, tossing the paper into the box as he sat back down.

You chuckled and followed suit, sitting down in your previous spot on the floor. “You didn’t need to let me win, James.”

“I know,” he agreed again, continuing to put the game away.

“So then why did you?” you asked curiously, crossing your arms over the table as you studied his face.

He smiled softly, giving you a half shrug. “You get happy when you win,” he said simply, as if it was obvious.

You opened your mouth to reply, though before you could he continued speaking. “And you know, given that I’m in love with you and everything, there isn’t anything I want more than for you to be happy.”

“What?” you breathed out, stunned by his words; it was the first time he ever said them to you.

“What?” he asked, feigning obliviousness.

“What did you just say?” you asked quietly.

“I want you to be happy,” he said, taking a sip from his glass.

“Before that,” you corrected, shaking your head.

“You get happy when you win?” he asked, doing his best to fight off the giggles building in his chest.

“Right in the middle,” you said, your lips twitching with the first signs of a smile.

“Oh,” he said, pretending to only just now realize what you meant. “You mean when I said I was in love with you,” he said casually.

You smiled like a fool as he repeated the words, gazing softly at him. “I’m sorry, I still didn’t catch that. One more time?”

He beamed, reaching over to grab your waist and slide you closer to him. “I-” he began, placing a kiss on your nose. “Love-” he continued, pecking the apple of your cheek. “You,” he finished with one last kiss to your other cheek.

“I love you, too,” you admitted through a fit of giggles, the smiles never leaving either of your faces as he captured your lips with his.

《《March 10th》》

“Bucky,” you whispered into the room, nudging the man sleeping beside you.

“Hm,” he hummed in response, tightening his grip on your waist as he pulled you closer.

“Guess what?" you urged, nudging him lightly once more.

He sighed and rolled onto his back, keeping his hold of you. “What?” he asked gruffly, wiping sleep from his eyes.

“It’s your birthday,” you sing-songed, giggling happily as you pecked his cheek.

He groaned and turned his head towards you. “You woke me up for that?” he asked in annoyance, though the ghost of a smile was on his lips.

“Yes!” you exclaimed. “It’s a special day!”

Bucky simply scoffed, closing his eyes as he shook his head. “I have had many birthdays, doll. It isn’t a special day.”

You playfully slapped his arm, chuckling softly. “Not for you, silly. For me!”

Fully awake now, Bucky sat up. “Okay, I’m lost. Why is my birthday a special day for you… and not me?”

Grinning, you sat up as well. “Because, today is the day that I get to cater to the man who constantly caters to me,” you explained eagerly.

“And he doesn’t get to argue about it!” you quickly added when he opened his mouth to respond.

“Fine,” he sighed. “Then you don’t get to argue about this,” he said before he threw you back down on the bed, kissing every inch of your bare skin that he could find as you squealed in delight.

“Baby, I need to get up,” you told him once your laughter died down a little.

He hummed against your neck, nipping at your skin. “You tellin’ me you’d rather leave than enjoy what I’m about to do to you? You know what? Don’t answer that. I’m the birthday boy, so I choose. You stay”

“Okay, but that means I can’t bake your cake,” you said with a giggle.

His movements stilled and he looked up at you with raised eyebrows. “Cake?” he asked. “Why didn’t you say that sooner?”

Leaping off the bed, he ran to the kitchen and left you to trail after him a moment later. You stood in the doorway, watching in amusement as he scurried about, opening and closing nearly all the cabinets. Yet, he wasn’t taking anything out.

“Buck?” you asked, wondering what he was doing,

He turned to you, an embarrassed smile on his face. “I have no idea how to bake a cake,” he confessed.

You laughed, pushing yourself off the frame and heading over to him.

“Well, let me teach you,” you offered, giving him a chaste kiss before grabbing your recipe cards.

He watched in awe as you fished out the right card to give him before collecting the ingredients you picked up the day before. He listened eagerly, doing what you said with so much concentration you had to continuously kiss away the scrunch between his brows.

Everything went well, and Bucky placed the pan in the oven with a proud smile before taking you in his arms.

“You know, maybe today is a special day for me after all,” he declared, placing a lingering kiss on your forehead.

“Because you learned how to bake a cake?” you asked curiously, chuckling as you rested your head on his chest.

He laughed, the vibrations beneath your head making you smile. “Because I learned how to bake a cake,” he confirmed, kissing the crown of your head.

Though really, it was because today was the day he realized he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you - not that he’d tell you that. Not yet, anyway.

After a few minutes, he pulled away with a small sigh. “Come on, let’s clean up.”

“Oh, I can do it, honey,” you said. “You go clean yourself up, you have icing on your face.”

“I do?” he asked, bringing up a hand to wipe at his face.

“Yeah, right- there,” you said, smearing a blob of icing on his cheek.

“You did not,” he said with a gasp, staring at you in shock.

“Oh, I did,” you gloated, grinning mischievously.

“You’ll regret that,” was the only warning he gave you before retaliating.

Before you knew it, the kitchen was in even more ruin and you were sprawled out on the floor in a fit of laughter.

You turned your head towards Bucky, taking his hand in yours. “Happy birthday, my love,” you said softly, a chuckle still in your voice.

“May I unwrap my present now, please?” he asked, a smirk dancing across his face.

“Only since you asked so nicely,” you teased, letting him gather you in his arms so he could finish what he started in the bedroom.

《《August 6th》》

“Game night?” Bucky asked from where he lay underneath you, gently toying with your hair.

The two of you were lounging lazily on the couch, boredom seeping into your bones.

“Game night,” you agreed, shifting so you could both sit up.

Bucky stood with a groan and made his way towards the door. “Wanna start setting up? I’ll go grab everything from the kitchen.”

“Of course,” you nodded, heading over and grabbing a few boxes from the shelf.

You placed them on the table, tossing the thickest pillows you two had on the floor before plopping down. You grabbed the box of battleship, smiling at the memory of how Bucky told you he loved you for the very first time. Your heart nearly leapt out of your throat as you emptied the contents and a ring twirled across the table.

“Bucky?” you called out, watching as it spun and spun before falling still.

When you realized you haven’t heard anything from him you called out again, standing up. “James-” you began, stopping short when you saw him behind you, down on one knee.

“Out of all the things I have done in my life… loving you, and being loved by you, has been my greatest success,” he started, your heart swelling at the way his voice trembled ever so slightly. “The moment I first saw you was the moment I believed angels were real, because how could you possibly be anything else? I still can’t believe you didn’t laugh in my face when I introduced myself - someone like you, actually giving me the time of day. I must have been the luckiest guy in the universe, and I still am, because you have shown me such happiness that I didn’t even know was possible, and cared for me in a way that I didn’t think anyone would. I have never been so sure of anything like the way I’m sure about us. So here I am, asking you, the love of my life, to be with me forever. So, how ‘bout it, angel? Will you marry me?”

You didn’t answer. You couldn’t answer. You could only stand there, nodding your head as you wiped at the tears streaming down your face before you threw yourself at him, tackling him to the floor in a flurry of cries and kisses.

“Does this mean yes?” Bucky asked nervously, his hands coming up to cup your face.

“It means yes,” you told him. “Definitely yes.”

He let out a breath neither of you knew he was holding and kissed you one more time, pouring all the emotions and feelings he possibly could into it.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he said urgently, scrambling over to the table. “May I?” he asked, holding his hand out to you.

You grinned and giggled uncontrollably as you placed your hand in his, letting him slip the pretty ring onto your finger.

《《January 11th》》

“Today’s the day,” Steve said, walking up behind Bucky and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“Today’s the day,” Bucky repeated solemnly, turning to give his friend a half smile.

Steve dropped his hand, placing himself in front of Bucky and brushing nonexistent fluff off his shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“I don’t know how the hell to do this, Stevie,” admitted Bucky, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Steve nodded understandingly, taking a deep breath. “You remember how much you love her. How when you first saw her, you punched me - thanks for that, by the way - and you said ‘Stevie, you see that dame over there? I’m gonna marry her one day’. And you remember how you made that outrageous proclamation true.”

“That was pretty outrageous, wasn’t it?” replied Bucky, a laugh finally escaping him as he recalled the day.

Steve smiled in relief at the sound. “It really was, Buck. But your crazy ass was right. Like always.”

Bucky remained silent for a moment, the ghost of a smile on his face. “I had no idea someone could be so beautiful. I still can’t believe that someone like her could love me.”

“Me either,” Steve joked, playfully smacking Bucky’s arm.

Bucky looked at him, face stoic, before he let out a laugh. “Fuck you, Steve,” he said, shaking his head. He quickly fell silent again, as if he suddenly remembered where he was and why he was here. “God I miss her, Stevie.”

“I know, Buck. I do, too,” was the only thing Steve knew to say, a sad smile on his face.

Bucky shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cry. “I don’t think I’ll ever be as happy as I was when I was with her - and I’m okay with that. I can’t - I mean she was it, you know? And those memories of her, of us… of how she loved me, how she made me feel… it’s what gets me through every day now.”

“They’re good memories,” Steve confirmed sincerely, chuckling softly. “Really was an epic love, huh?”

“Absolute love of my life,” Bucky easily agreed. “All I can hope for is that she’s waiting for me when I can finally meet her again; she always was my angel.”

“She will be,” consoled Steve as he placed a bouquet by the headstone. “She was crazy about you.”

Bucky hummed, sitting down and setting his own flowers against the marble - a bouquet of all your favourites. “I think I’ll stay here a while, Stevie. Tell her about all the things she’s missed. Want to help?”

“Of course, Bucky. I would love to,” Steve said honestly, sitting down beside his friend.

The two of them sat there, sharing stories about the world they live in now, and how much things have changed since the three of you first met. Bucky knew you would love it, and it kills him that he can’t share it with you. That he can’t share the rest of his life with you like he was supposed to.

He sat there with his best friend and the ghost of his best girl, his heart aching and a piece of his soul missing.

He sat there, with the years 1919-1987 staring back at him.

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tonyspank · 2 years ago

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CHAPTER ONE | THE PARTY & THE AFTER PARTY

Warnings; Uhhhh idk?

A/N: I never had to actually make coffee at my job, I kinda jus put the filter then dump out the coffee bag so… my apologies if it sounds crazy. (For all my professional coffee makers.)

Jenna Ortega x G!P Reader

series masterlist | main masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter

"I have a medium lavender ice latte with oat milk for, Ana?" You call out to half full coffee shop. A blonde in about her twenties walks up to the counter, you smile before handing her her drink.

"Have a wonderful day," She grins, "Thank you so much, you too!" Your co-worker speaks up from behind you, "I still don't understand why you're not somewhere strumming your guitar."

You've been working at Hughes Coffee since you can remember, you just happened to be walking by the place and noticed the Now Hiring signs on the door, of course, you had to go through an interview process but you landed the job and became close with the owner and his daughter.

Once she had officially turned eighteen he changed the shop name in honour of her, and she absolutely loved it.

You playfully roll your eyes before turning around to fully face her, "Alora," You begin causing her to hum in response. "I literally have to stay here to keep you in check. Ever since Mr. Hughes changed the name to Alora's Coffee you've been acting a little bit stuck up." You joke, illustrating how much with your thumb and pointer finger.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever," She points behind you, "Take care of that customer. I have to use the bathroom," You jump up in the straightest position ever, saluting to her. "Yes! General!"

She laughs, walking to the back. Turning around you're met with a familiar face, "Jack."

He smiles raising his arms, "Bestie!" You chuckle, smiling at your indeed best friend. "Hey, Jack. What's up?"

He smiles, shrugging his shoulders. "Oh, nothing. Just checking in on you—" Suddenly he slams his hands on the counter, you jump and eye the shop as some customers as staring at the two of you.

"YOU REALLY THOUGHT YOU WOULD GET AWAY WITH LEAVING WITHOUT SAYING GOODBYE?" He practically yells, leaning into your face. You bite down on your lip, furrowing your eyebrows as you try and hold in your laugh.

"Uh? I thought I gave my goodbyes to my best messenger, did you not receive it?" Jack leans back, hands still on the counter. "Oh! You mean Jenna?" You nod your head, waving your pointer finger at him. "Yes, yes! Jenna, yup."

"And the same Jenna that couldn't stop talking about you." Your ears perk up at this, and your heart drops, but in a good way.

"Really?" You question, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

"Oh, yeah!" He continues. "She was like, she has the cutest laugh ever. She's so funny where'd you meet her at? Y/N this, Y/N that! Oh, Y/N! Blah, bleh, blah." He mocks with a high-pitched voice.

"Really?" This time you can't hide it, and you're smiling like an absolute idiot. "Really. I was going to give her your Instagram but you know, you left early. So insteadddd," He drags out, and you listen in.

"I told her that you're already dating someone, but don't worry! I didn't be specific and tell her that it was me." You blink, and when Jack doesn't say anything else, you blink again.

"You're lying, right?"

He thins out his lips, shaking his head. "No, why?" You go back to being nonchalant, not wanting Jack to have this over you.

One time you had liked this girl freshman year and Jack would not stop talking about it. And every time he'd see her he'd tell her why won't she go out with you, or how she should give you her number. The girl would always laugh and shrug her shoulders.

Or Jack would come up with these fake stories about how you saved an entire family from a burning building, or how you had found the cure to cancer, the girl surprisingly played along, and would say stuff along the lines of, "Oh, I remember that." Or, "Oh yeah! I was there too."

"No reason," You say shrugging your shoulders, Jack nods staring at you a bit longer to see if he broke your shell of nonchalantness, if that was a thing.

Accepting defeat, but not fully he sighs out. "Welp, I have to go now. I promised Mason I'd stop by his place to try out his new sugar cookie recipe."

You send him a thumbs up, "Alright! Have fun!" You shout out, as he walks out the double glass doors.

You turned around grabbed a rag, and wiped down counters. It was rather late in the morning so it wasn't so busy, well, it wasn't as busy as it was earlier this morning, you were dead-ass sweating.

It comes back to you that Alora never came back out, so you decide to head to the back and go inside the employee break room. You're met with Alora laying across two chairs eating a bag of chips.

"Is this what you do every time you say you're going to the bathroom?" She jumps in surprise, sitting up she removes her left airpod. "Hello, friend." She grins cheekily. You send her a wave.

"Don't you think you should go back to the front?" She starts shooing you off with her hand, you back up, but remain looking at her. "What about you?" She shushes, continuing her shooing motions."

You sigh out, leaning against the counter as you watch the customers in the store talk to their friends or type away on their computers.

You're so into the view you didn't hear the door open nor see the customer walk up towards the counter. Until you hear a ding noise come from the bell sitting on top of the counter.

"Shit," You mutter to yourself, you reach behind you, tying your apron tighter before walking over to the woman. "Fucking Jack," You slightly hear from her and it finally hits you once she takes off her glasses.

"That fucking sneaky bastard." You mumble to yourself.

"Hey, Jenna." You smile, Jenna smiles back placing her glasses in her purse. "Hey," She looks into your eyes, hating to admit she missed them, and so suddenly.

"Now I see why Jack told me to come here." You scratch your head, nodding. "He is a sneaky little bastard." She laughs at your words, "He actually called you the same thing when you left without saying goodbye, well technically you did, but.. I don't know." She catches herself rambling, making you smile.

"Did you want anything to drink?" You ask, drumming your fingers on the countertop. "It's on the house."

"Oh! Sure," Her eyes scan the menu, then you, specifically your name tag. You don't miss the smirk that slightly appears on her lips.

"Surprise me." Just as you're about to respond, Alora walks back out. "Good morning, how are you today?"

Jenna sends her a slight smile, "I'm great, thank you." She gives you one last look before going to sit down. Once it's clear that Jenna is no longer focused on you, Alora grabs your arm, her jaw-dropping. "Was that fucking Wednesday Addams?" You roll your eyes, moving to make Jenna's coffee."

You prepare one shot of Espresso Roast, and as you wait you pull out your phone, opening your messages with Jack.

i hate you

BESTIE

BESTIE DON'T SAY THAT?

i'm not the one who left w/o saying goodbye

I ASKED JENNA TO SAY GOODBYE?

whatever

don't you have to go like

impress her w your barista skills?

you're welcome by the way

goodbye jack

OH NOW U WANNA

SAY GOODBYE

You laugh before putting away your phone. And pouring your Espresso Roast into the mug.

"Her name is Jenna. But yes, she has played Wednesday Addams." Alora watches you, and her smile increases. "You know... I'm very happy that you work here."

You chuckle, preparing your froth milk. Using the Nespresso Aeroccino, you put the milk on the medium froth setting. And add in a bit of vanilla syrup, stirring it in the coffee. "You're only saying that because every now and then Jack will recommend your shop to one of his famous friends,"

She throws her hands up excitedly, "One of his very attractive famous friends!" You lean against the counter waiting for your milk. "Could you watch the counter while I talk to her?" Your voice is lower than usual.

"I fucking got you!" You can't help but laugh, taking your milk and gently pouring it inside the cup until it's almost full. Alora packages up a cookie before softly handing it to you.

"Go get her tiger," Rolling your eye playfully, you make your way toward Jenna, cookie and drink in hand. She sets down her phone and her face lights up seeing you make your way over to her booth.

"A blonde vanilla latte and a chocolate chip cookie for the one and only," You place her order in front of her, sitting down across the table.

She eyes you as she takes a sip, humming in joy. "Wow, this is good." She licks her lips, placing down the cup.

"So... Y/N," She begins. You fight back a smile, looking down at your name tag. "How long have you been addicted to cigarettes."

If you had something in your mouth you definitely would've spit it out. But instead, you're taken aback, "Uh? I don't know? A while,"

She hums, taking another sip of the drink you made her. "Not a lot of people know it but, I actually specialize in helping people with addictions."

You chuckle, "Really?"

"Of course, I'm a professional." You tap your fingers on the table. "So how do your services work exactly?"

"Usually I charge a hefty amount of money, but since we're such good friends. Money is not a problem, instead.." You raise your eyebrows in anticipation.

"Let's make a deal." You nod, telling her to go on. "You let me take you out on seven dates, if I don't manage to at least help you fight your addiction then you don't have to worry about seeing my face ever again. But if I do, then I get to take you out on more."

A huge smile has appeared on your face, "You're going to take me out? To help fight my addiction?" She nods, again sipping on her drink.

"Do we have a deal?" You hold out your hand, and she quickly shakes it.

"It's a deal Ortega," She smirks but doesn't hide it this time.

#reader insert #jenna x y/n #jenna ortega x reader #jenna x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #wattpad #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega

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gowonders · 1 year ago

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eternally ♥ c.bg

summary ? : you and choi beomgyu being best friends. literally INSEPARABLE. doing everything together. everything. (mutual pining duh)

notes: are y’all getting sick of my beomgyu and besties to lover obsession? yes? TOO BAD. i ♥ this trope with this man. it’s his. moablr when can we agree that beomgyu is THE bsf>lvrs man.

warnings: cursing, non idol au, not proofread, short

beomgyu, your childhood bestfriend. you two got ‘married’ at recess multiple times, you two shared a first kiss, first breakup, let’s just say he was always there for you.

circa middle school… “she was ugly anyways, gyu!!” “no she wassnnttttttt.”

around high school? “have you kissed anyone, gyu?” “yeah?” “show me how.”

you two were always attached at the hip, doing everything together, and honestly? you can’t but notice how hard you’ve been falling for him lately too.

everytime you’re at his house, watching corny romance movies, laying in his arms as he braids you hair, you always imagined you and beomgyu in those situations.. until the main characters do something absolutely stupid, making you both double over laughing, hitting eachother as you giggle.

or when you were at the beach, and you made a sandcastle, and in the sand he wrote ‘beomgyu+yn’ with a heart next to it.

it made you crazy. you needed him to be yours.

and you didn’t know, but beomgyu liked you back— no. loved you back.

he was so obvious with his flirting, told all his friends about you, told his family about you, but you were the only one who didn’t know.

he bought you stuff, always made you take photo strips with him at the mall, and you guys ‘platonically kissed’ all the time.

so why did he think you didn’t like him?

and why didn’t you think he liked you?

because.. you were both painfully oblivious. your friends saw it, your family, anyone who met both of you at the same time saw it.

and you only saw it when you were at your house, parents gone shopping..

”yn. did you take the ice cream i left here last night…..?” he asks, voice getting playfully angry.

with a giggle, your head leans against the couch, yelling into the kitchen. “mayyyybeeeeeee…!”

with a loud huff, he shuts the freezer and runs over to the couch and pins you down, starting to tickle you.

”beomgyu you bitch!! stop!!!!!” you say, your arms flailing as he relentlessly attacks you, both of you giggling at the moment.

until you pay him back, sitting up and tickling him too.. he’s definitely loud.. screaming ringing all throughout your house before he pins you back down, but this time he stops.

his hands are wrapped around your wrists, keeping you from moving, and he’s sitting on your thighs, so you don’t try and get him again.. but he only realizes now how close you are.. and if he moved a few inches closer, he could just kiss you.

and maybe if he confessed now, he could. but would that ruin the friendship? everything?

“gyu? you good?” you ask, squirming under him, snapping him out of his trance, but all he can say is “i like you— no. love you.” you gasp quietly, managing out of his grip as you both look at eachother. the silence is so loud. “what?” you say, a breathy laugh at the end. are you dreaming?

the beomgyu that just called you a bitch, who always rolled his eyes when people shipped you, who said anything “lovey dovey” was for practice, liked you???

well? so did you.

”i like yo-“ “i heard what you said. i just can’t tell if you’re being serious or if you’re playing a joke on me. again.”

yeah.. he once confessed to you to ‘get your reaction’… (in reality he was just too chicken to go through with it.)

“nonononono yn!! i really do! you think all the times we’ve kissed or fake dates was because i despised you or something? no! i really like you. i will like you forever. eternally.” he says, still keeping you pinned to the couch, but you can’t even bring yourself to move, anyways..

”really??” you laugh sheepishly, was it just you or was he moving closer?? you could feel his long hair brushing against your cheeks as he just sits over you,

”yes, really!! you know what, you need to shut up. i’ve been SO obvious and you have been the most oblivious bitch ever!! it is so so annoying, yn. i think i’ve made out with you more times than the times you’ve realized i was flirting.” he says, giving you that ‘you’re stupid.’ look he always does, his eyes are narrow and his brows are furrowed. “im oblivious? weren’t you the one that—“ “shut up.” he cuts you off quickly and actually closes that gap between you two, pressing his lips against yours in a rushed manner.

that definitely shut you up!!

he pulls away, his eyes moving all over your features before shaking his head as he rolls his eyes. “so? can we date now or???” he says, his thumb running across your bottom lip.

you stall a little, then stutter for a second.. but then you just give him a nod. that nod he’s been waiting for ages to see. and that honestly makes his day.

“finally, youre still such a little asshat for eating my ice cream.” he says before peppering kisses along your cheeks.

”awe, really? i thought one of the perks of dating you would be you forgiving me?”

#gowonder: writes #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu soft thoughts #beomgyu soft hours #beomgyu fluff #txt x reader #txt soft thoughts #txt soft hours #txt fluff #beomgyu imagines #txt imagines

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formulaforza · 2 years ago

Text

miss americana & the heartbreak prince

—03. i think i fell in love today —word count: 7.5k —warnings: despicable tooth rotting clawing my eyes out eating the stuffing in my pillows fluff. truly its horrendous. lets talk about it. —love, mackie... i'm sleeping hopefully. right now I am hammocking. the ice cream truck just drove past. I love June.

After Paris, Chris was a bit apprehensive when it came to her ability to navigate the airport in Abu Dhabi with any sort of efficiency. Especially not now, where she needs to go through customs and register for a visitor’s visa and find her luggage and get her money exchanged. Pleasantly, though, she’s surprised at the ease she works through her notes app checklist. It’s within the hour that she’s climbing into the backseat of a taxi and heading to the hotel.

She spends the entirety of the twenty-something minute drive doing a deep dive on Joris’ Instagram. He’s going to be waiting for you, Charles had told her the night they’d worked it all out. How he knew his friend would be free is beyond Chris, but that's not even the bigger issue at hand. The issue is, of course, that she’s had no more than a momentary interaction with Joris in the background of a FaceTime call two weeks ago. The thought of breezing past him in the hotel lobby is a mortifying one.

It’s quarter after seven by the time she gets there, and when she catches a glance of herself in a mirror on the wall and almost bursts into laughter. Someone could tell her that she fell down the stairs in Austin and hit her head and is in a coma and it would feel more believable than her life right now. This just… this doesn’t happen to her; five star hotels in foreign countries and heavy accents and guys who call her beautiful from the other side of the globe.

She spots Joris in an armchair on his phone at the other end of the lobby. She approaches nervously, and he stirs from his phone at her sudden proximity. “Hi,” Chris greets, sounds almost apologetic for interrupting him. “Joris, right?”

“Uh, yeah,” he nods, dragging out the vowel sounds when he glances back down at his screen. Chris wonders if he knows he’s waiting for her.

She smiles. “I’m Chris.”

“Right!” He snaps his fingers, shoves his phone into his pocket. “Chris.” He stands and opens his arms to hug her like they’re old friends. It’s a move straight from her book, one that she’s pulled on dozens of people before. It’s not one that she’s met with often. Chris thinks they’ll get on well, her and Joris. That’s a good thing, right? Friendly friends.

Chris’ mom had told her more than once that the quickest way to know someone’s character is through their friends. Only a maniac is rude to animals and elderly and children, she’d said a million times over, it’s the character of the people they choose to spend time with that matters. Joris has no idea Chris is silently observing his every action, picking them apart on a human level.

On the elevator ride up, Joris fills Chris in on everything that’s happened during the free practices that day, tells her that it’s been a relatively clean couple of sessions. You do know of the risk this weekend, yes? P2 or P3, he asks and answers his own question. Chris nods. If she didn’t know, she does now. The room is on the fifth floor, she notes, staring at the glowing five button as she picks at her cuticles. It hits her like a ton of bricks, her anxiety skyrocketing as the elevator ascends, her stomach left behind on the ground level.

This whole thing is crazy, and not the quirky, silly story you tell your friends about over a vodka cran crazy. Just plain crazy. Insane. Off the wall absurd. Why, why are they sharing a room? Why is she even here? What is it about her that can’t be found somewhere, anywhere, else? And the most prudent question, the one ringing in her ears louder with each passing moment; what is it about him?

Chris has never considered herself to be logical, not in the slightest, but she does like to maintain the idea that she’s well grounded. She might not always act in a way that makes the most sense, but she always makes those choices within the bounds of her reality.

And, because her nerves permeate off her like a thirteen-year-old’s B.O, Joris takes a stab at cooling her down. “How was your planes?”

“Good. Smooth.” she nods, forces a smile. Her weight shifts from heel to heel, thumbs looped through her backpack straps. The floor is a shiny black marble with white and gold veins, one that commands your attention. Chris pulls her eyes from it to look at him anyway. Nervous and insane or not, she wants to make a good impression. “I could do without navigating the airport in Paris ever again, though.”

“Oh,” he laughs. “It never gets easier.”

“Does any of it?” She offers up a laugh, but it’s as genuine as the smile her face held before.

He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off with the ding of the doors opening. There, in the hallway with more marble floors and a wallpaper that walks the line between elegant and gaudy, a couple stands on a white carpet runner. The man has on a Mercedes cap. Chris wonders if they know a Formula One driver is staying on their floor.

The four of them sidestep awkwardly around each other with polite smiles to the floor, and before she knows it Joris is holding a keycard over the lock on a heavy door and handing the piece of plastic to her.

It’s not a room. It’s a suite. There’s a living room and a kitchenette and a whole separate bedroom to this place. It’s expensive, wildly so, she’s sure.

She wheels her suitcase into the bedroom, leaves it in the corner by an armchair with her backpack. At the bottom of the bag is her purse, which she digs out while Joris is using the bathroom, moving things around from one bag to the other.

The drive to the circuit is twenty minutes, at least, and Joris talks the whole time, mostly about how nervous he is and how hard he’s trying to make sure Charles doesn’t notice. Chris doesn’t tell him that Charles is also beyond nervous about the whole thing–or that he knows good and well everyone around him is losing their minds. It doesn’t seem like the type of thing that would make Joris feel any better.

“Pascale and Enzo, you know them, yes? Charles’ Mum and brother?” Joris questions.

“Nope,” Chris shakes her head. “Not yet.”

Oh, he doesn’t say. “You’ll like them if you like Charles,” he laughs. “You do like Charles?”

Chris bites down on a smile, a laugh leaving her nose in an exhale. “I do.”

“Good, good.” He nods. “Anyway, they are not here tonight, they already have gone back to the hotel. Arthur is there, still. Do you know him?”

“I think it’s going to be easier for both of us if you just assume I don’t know anyone.”

“Ah, okay. Will do.”

Chris wonders what Charles has said about her to Joris, to Arthur, to anyone. All of the stories he has or hasn’t told them about. She has almost exclusively not talked about him back home. Not because she doesn’t want to, she just can’t figure out how to say anything without sounding like a reality television star. Maybe he’s the same way. There’s a real chance that nobody in his family even knows that she’s coming, and maybe that’s the way she’d like it to be.

Her reunion with Charles couldn’t be more different than their first meeting. The paddock is empty with exception of team crews and straggling media members. There isn’t a Bud Light in sight and the pass hanging around her neck has a picture of her on the back. He must’ve pulled it from her Instagram, the one that he keeps talking about wanting to follow back. A picture of her and CHRISTYN ELLIOTT - FULL WEEKEND written in bold letters.

“He’s probably at the briefing,” Joris explains, checking his watch and walking one stride for every two of Chris’. She tries her hardest to keep up with him as he expertly navigates the paddock, all while trying to memorize his moves so she doesn’t end up stranded sometime this weekend.

A whistle gets their attention, cutting sharply through the hot desert air. Her and Joris both snap their heads around to find the perpetrator of the summons. Charles pats Pierre’s shoulder and jogs ahead of the group of drivers, all already engaged in their own conversations and heading off into different directions.

He has such a carefree smile on his face, jogging over with happy eyes and wiggling brows and a stupid little wink that puts a smile on her face. “Hello, Christyn,” he quips, greets her with open arms. And then, once his arms are pulling her to him so tight she can’t take a full breath, when he has so much energy to give her he can’t help but rock on the sides of his feet, he whispers just for her, “Hi,” a soft kiss on the crown of her head, “I’m so glad you’re here.”

All she can think about is how warm he is. Warm, and smells so nice. She doesn’t know how she’s going to ever go home. Not when he’s so warm.

“How was the planes?” He asks, an arm comfortable slotting around her as they resume their walk to wherever it is she’s being led.

“Uh, I’m tired, but.” She smiles. At him. Right there where she can touch him. Where he is touching her. “I’m here, so. I’m happy.”

On the walk back to hospitality, she asks him how his day’s gone. He’s sure she already knows, that Joris talked her ear off the entire drive over or that she’d checked the media reports of the practice sessions, but it’s nice to pretend she doesn’t know. He tries to summarize everything as concise as he can, because even though he loves talking to her, he’d much rather listen. He can listen to her talk until the sun burns out.

He’s not surprised to notice that Joris has peeled off from them, especially not because he didn’t even realize he wasn’t trailing behind him and Chris until he held open the door to his driver’s room and Joris was nowhere to be found.

He can’t count the amount of texts he’s had to have sent Chris from his driver’s room. How badly he wanted to just be talking with her, and now she’s here. She’s here, she’s here, she’s here with him.

He moves around the room, cleaning and reorganizing his things for a fresh start in the morning. Casually, he mentions that he has a sponsorship obligation tonight, last race and all, and that Arthur and Joris are coming along. He doesn’t speak it so offhandedly because he’d forgotten, but because he didn’t want her to get freaked out by the idea of it. He explains that she’s welcome to tag along, or, if she’d feel more comfortable, she can stay here while Andrea packs up his things.

She’s leaning against the wall just next to the doorway, watching him. Without hesitation, she replies, “I’ll come with you.”

“Are you sure?” He asks, looking to her. “You don’t have to.”

She nods, looks at the ground or the couch or something that isn’t him, folds her hand to look at her nails and lets out an almost silent laugh. His stomach drops. “You sound like you don’t want me to go.”

“No, no.” He corrects, and she still doesn’t look at him. He waves for her attention, cocks his head to the side when he gets it, “No. That’s not. I just want you to do what you want to do.”

“I want to go.”

“Okay,” he smiles.

She crosses her arms over her chest, looks like she’s trying so hard not to smile at him. “You’re being weird, you know?”

He shrugs, because she’s right. “I told you I would be.”

“Well,” Chris sighs, moves across the room to the small couch in the corner, “why are you being weird?”

“Because.” I want to kiss you, he stops himself from saying. I’ve wanted to kiss you since I saw you twenty minutes ago, since you decided to come, since I met you, maybe.

“Because, why?” She laughs, and he’s suddenly struck with the thought of what her laughter might taste like. Sweet, surely, just like it sounds. Like a popsicle on a summer day.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he tries his absolute hardest to wipe that thought from his brain before texting his brother back. “Je veux t'embrasser tout le temps,” I want to kiss you all the time, he mumbles, isn’t even sure it actually leaves his lips or if he keeps it locked in the vault. He continues to send his reply to Arthur.

“You know I don’t understand what you just said,” Chris reminds him. That’s why it came out in French, he thinks. Not everything is meant to be said.

“I said,” he pauses, sends the text, looks back at her. God. “I said I want to kiss you.”

She crosses one leg over the other, looks down at her pants like there is something in her lap to fix. He can see the blush on the tips of her ears, even though she’s trying to hide her cheeks. When she does look up, face still flushed, she tucks her bangs behind her ears and replies softly, “you’re allowed to kiss me, Charles.”

He can’t believe he hasn’t yet. That he’d hugged the life out of her, kissed her hair and told her how happy he is she’s there, that he’d thought about kissing her for weeks, that he didn’t fucking kiss the girl yet. They’re sharing a bedroom tonight, and he still hasn’t kissed her. He thought about it, he did. But they’d promised to keep things as quiet as they could. Now, he’s pretty sure she wouldn’t have stopped him from throwing all those conversations out the window.

If there wasn’t something weird in the air before, there certainly is now. A new weird. A good weird. An implication of something in the air, weird. It’s out there now, ust hanging above them. I want to kiss you. You can kiss me. Now all that’s left is for one of them to make the move.

It’s the least he can do–make the first move. She flew across the globe, he can fucking kiss her. He wants to fucking kiss her. He feels like a little kid, the giddy smile that pulls on the corners of his lips when he walks over to her. He does little to conceal his intent.

“What?” She asks with a smile on her face. A tease, she has to know.

He holds out his hands, palms forward to her and she follows his lead, reaches up to lace their fingers together. “I like you, you know?” He asks, leans his weight against her hands. Some hands are just meant to be held.

She giggles like a child, pure and innocent and like nothing bad has ever happened to her. Like the childhood dog and all four grandparents are still kicking. “I can’t hold you up.”

“What?” He quirks a brow, leans more weight onto her hands and she laughs harder, her arms shaking below him.

“Charles!”

“I said I like you, Chris!”

Through weak arms and uncontrollable belly laughs, she manages to choke out in gulps for air, “I like you, too.” In a swift movement, he recenters his weight on his own feet, pulling Chris up from the couch. The force of his pull almost knocks her from her feet, both of them still laughing, fingers dancing with the others on either side of their frames. The laughter is light and airy and barely there, but it’s laughter nonetheless. When their hands do fall apart, their pinkies stay looped together without force, without any pull at all, just comfortably slotted against the other. “I really like you,” she adds, and her voice sounds like smiles look.

She blushes under her own words, over the entirety of their private moment, eyes darting from eyes to lips and back to eyes. “Yeah?” He asks quietly, like he’s scared asking might change her answer. She nods, biting down on the smile that paints her bottom lip, and it’s more than enough for him. She’s so good. She’s too good not to kiss.

He moves a hand to her jaw, thumbs her cheek with fingers slotted behind her ear, dancing along her hairline like a whisper of what’s to come. Like a promise. In the absence of his hand, hers finds his chest, just his thin Ferrari shirt separating her palm from the butterflies stirring wildly in his chest. “Me, too,” he says softly. Softer than she did, more to her lips—soft and pretty and his favorite shade of pink—than to her eyes. And then, either so softly only the atoms hear it, or maybe in his head entirely, “very much.”

And then he kisses her.

She tastes like mint chapstick and biscoff cookies and coffee. Her lips are soft, softer than they looked, softer than her voice. It’s like a boost of energy, kissing her. Like an immediate and complete charge.

She tightens her grip on his other pinky. Tightens it, loosens it, re-intertwines the whole hand somewhere off in the distance, far, far away from where he wishes to stay forever. This alone is worth a flight anywhere. Altitude sickness and limbs falling asleep and jet lag and headaches from screaming babies are all poor inhibitors when this would be waiting for him on the other side.

He pulls his hand from hers because it's just not close enough. Nothing is going to be close enough, but he’ll try his damndest to cup her jaw and pull her deeper into the kiss. Their noses bump awkwardly and they pull apart in a breathless laugh. Nothing more than a quick, shared smile and he’s kissing it off her face, tugging on her bottom lip with his teeth and letting her hum mumbles into his mouth. Teeth clacking and more laughing, so breathless it’s practically silent.

“Chris Elliott,” he says all sing-songy, just because he knows it’ll make her laugh. A quick peck, because he can. “You are something.”

“Charles Leclerc,” she mimics, wide eyes and raised brows and a beaming smile. A quick peck, because he’s never going to stop her. “Something good?”

He hums. “Something great.”

“You’re silly,” she says, and he laughs.

“Silly?” She nods. “You’re cute.” Chris rolls her eyes, but still has that child’s smile on her face and a pink flush to her cheeks. He kisses her again, quick, because he has a month to make up for.

“I know,” she retorts, deadpan. He laughs louder than any sane man should.

Joris, Arthur, and Andrea file into the room a few minutes later. Chris is leaning against the wall again, scrolling through her phone. She clicks it off when they walk in, shoves it deep into her purse pocket.

Andrea’s eyes bounce from Chris to Charles, and then back to Chris, holding out a hand for her to shake. “Andrea,” he greets, formal and cool.

“Chris,” she smiles, shakes the outstretched hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah,” she nods. “You too.”

First bad impression. She doesn’t know what it is she did, but with the simple half-minute observation of his interactions with her versus the rest of the people in the room, it’s obvious he’s already soured on her.

Arthur, though, Arthur is almost off putting in his resemblance to Charles. Same voice, same face, certainly same bloodline. She thinks she could recognize him anywhere, probably. He, however, on his phone, doesn’t even notice Chris’ presence in the room until Joris elbows him on the sofa.

“Quoi?!” He exclaims in a defensive tone that transcends language barriers. The kind that only brothers know how to use.

“Hi,” Chris says, and Arthur’s head shoots from Joris to her in the doorway. He almost laughs, he’s so surprised by her presence. “I’m Chris,” she adds, holding out a hand only because he's sitting and she’s standing and a hug doesn’t feel logistically sound.

“Ah, Chris,” Arthur nods, shakes her hand. “Charles does not answer my phone calls because of you.”

“Oh,” she offers a weak smile. “I’m sorry about that.”

“No, no. I do not want to hear from him.”

Chris laughs. From the other side of the room, Charles chimes in, “then why are you calling me?”

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Maman say, ‘do you call Charles’ and I say ‘yes he does not answer me.’”

- - -

They run into Carlos and co. on the way to the sponsorship event. Chris tries to hang back towards the end of the group, back with Joris and Arthur and away from Charles, purely out of self preservation. They’d agreed in passing that everything would be much easier, hundreds of times simpler, if nobody knew Chris was there this weekend, if everything was kept under the radar. Charles, however, seems to have forgotten that agreement because, no matter how engaged he gets into a conversation, he is constantly looking for her in the group, reaching his hand out to her if she’s within distance to do so, keeping her as close to him as he can.

She keeps falling back though, falling into ranks. She doesn’t want to look like a girlfriend, because she isn’t.

Chris has no idea how to be a public… girl? A fling or a girlfriend or anything in between. She’s at home at a race track, yes, and during Chase’s championship winning season, she got stopped three times to take pictures with fans, but, really. Nobody has ever cared about what she’s doing or who she’s doing it with.

Walking in behind Carlos and Charles is like walking in behind celebrities. Everyone wants to shake their hands, to pat them on the shoulders and tell them this thing or another. There’s lots of languages being thrown around that she doesn’t recognize, accents she struggles to understand.

“This is crazy,” she says quietly, just to herself.

Arthur nudges her with his elbow to steal her attention, furrows his brows for a moment and holds up a quizzical thumbs up. Chris nods, smiles gratefully.

Charles promised that it was going to be nothing more than a quick stop at the event, and he meant it. They aren’t even there long enough to sit down. Instead they hang out in the back of the tent near the bar, watching Charles and Carlos talk on stage with several different people about how important this brand is for us.

They decide to go out to dinner after, despite Chris’ burning desire to go to sleep for a couple years. They get sat at a booth that’s probably made to hold no more than four people; Andrea and Joris on one side, Charles sandwiched between Chris and Arthur on either side. He finds her hand under the table, his thumb tracing along the lines of her fingers. Chris, against all urges to rest her head on his shoulder, rests it instead on the wooden divider between their booth and the neighboring one.

Arthur is the only one who struggles to speak English rather than his mother tongue, and while Charles corrects him each time, Chris doesn’t dare. She’d rather die than imply someone speaking in a second language needs to improve the way they speak it.

“Are you going to be with us all weekend?” Arthur asks around Charles’ frame.

“I’m actually going to be in the grandstands,” she smiles. Charles rolls his eyes.

“Oh?” Arthur asks, looks to his brother, but Joris beats him to the punch.

“You couldn’t get her a pass for the whole weekend?” Joris chirps. Andrea laughs and Charles reaches for the pass hung around her neck. She didn’t even realize she was the only person still wearing it until now. Charles flips the pass over, points out the FULL WEEKEND on the back.

“Her choice, not mine.”

She reaches to take the pass out of his hand, to pull it off over her head and put it into her purse. “I’m hoping for a drama-free weekend,” she says, and the boys laugh. Charles’ hand finds her thigh, gives it a little pat and a comfortable squeeze.

Her hands are meant to be held, they really are. He could hold her hand until the moment she leaves, fingers locked together as they walk through the hotel corridor, empty and echoey with their voices and the sound of their feet on the carpet runner.

Once in the room, face to face together with the single bed, they both burst into laughter. He’s glad he cleaned things up before she got here, because the room was starting to look a little like his driver’s room–clothes strewn about messily, plastic water bottles on the end table, a television remote he lost the night he got here and hadn’t found until this morning. In the corner, Chris’ luggage sits beside the armchair, backpack neatly stacked with a single suitcase.

“Did you bring your whole wardrobe?” He jokes, and maybe it’s because he’s never been great at conveying jokes in English, or maybe it’s that they’re both absolutely exhausted, but the joke doesn't land. She’s immediately apologizing, spewing out a jumbled apology about I didn’t know what I was supposed to wear, and then– “I’m messing with you,” he says, and hates that she thinks he’d be that worked up over a suitcase, especially when he’d brought at least double what she had. She could have shown up with twenty suitcases and he still wouldn’t have thought it was too much because, well, she’s here. Right in front of him.

“Oh,” she pouts, and he kisses the look off her face. He’s wanted to do that since he saw it for the first time. “Oh. I like when you do that.” Good, he thinks. Get used to it.

They both make plans to shower; her before him. He’s on the couch in the living area of the suite when she re-emerges from the bathroom, the TV rolling and absentmindedly scrolling through his phone. When the sliding door to the bathroom opens, he looks up to watch her.

Her hair long down her back, carefully combed out so that the soaking ends turn the fabric of her sun-worn blue t-shirt a darker shade. It’s big on her–the shirt–hangs almost long enough that you wouldn’t be able to spot the flannel shorts underneath. He can still hear the sink running in the bathroom and she’s got a toothbrush in her mouth.

He whistles when she walks back from the bedroom towards the bathroom again, and she stops in the doorway, laughs around the toothbrush and does a sweet spin. “Bellissimo,” he says, gestures a chef’s kiss and she bows dramatically.

After his shower, he finds her in the bedroom, comfortably perched against the headboard, tucked under the crisp white duvet. The only light in the place is coming from her end table lamp, casting a soft shadow on her face, her knees pulled up close while she turns the pages of a book. He hovers around his suitcase watching her, completely in her own world, the only hint of her presence on this plane being the subtle lean into the light to better illuminate the pages she turns.

It’s not the first time he’s found himself looking at her like this. She’s easy to get lost in and almost never notices him staring. She just gets so focused on the task at hand–grading papers, cooking a meal, painting her nails, watching a television show, or like tonight, reading her current library rental.

“Do you want a water?” He asks. Her eyes don’t leave the page, a subtle shake of the head before she finally mumbles a no, thank you. He navigates the dark suite to the kitchenette, finds himself a plastic water bottle in the mini-fridge, and then he’s pulling back the comforter to climb into bed with her. “So, I was thinking tomorrow–” he starts, but she cuts him off with a singular finger held in the air. He can’t help but laugh, stupid smile on his face while he watches her eyes hurriedly finish the page, dog ear the tiniest fold onto the corner.

“Sorry,” she unapologetically offers, setting the book down on the end table. “What were you saying?”

“Uh, I don’t remember,” he says, because he lost it while he tried to guess what she was reading based on the little microexpressions that crossed her face. His eyes fall to the gold chain around her neck, to the small cross that lays over the blue fabric of her shirt. He’s noticed it dozens of times, it’s constant presence in every picture, every video, every call and outfit and event. He doesn’t even think when he reaches for it, examines it with gentle fingers. “Is this a, uh…” he struggles to find the word, “how do you say, family tradition?”

“Heirloom?”

He nods, drops the piece of jewelry back to its rightful spot. “Heirloom.”

“No, it was a birthday gift,” she explains, fingers the chain of it, “from my brother when I turned eighteen.”

He nods, points out the other necklace she’s wearing, a flower with a pearl in the center. “And this?”

She laughs, “it’s silly,” she says. “It goes with these earrings I have, they’re from my parents when I graduated college.” He learns the flower is a chrysanthemum, that her dad has always called her Mum, that her mom has a particular affinity for pearls that she’s passed onto Chris, that all of these things have combined into this piece of jewelry hanging around her neck and that she cried and cried when they gifted it to her.

Because the sun is still burning, he doesn’t stop asking about the different pieces she wears until he’s run out of ones to point to. He learns the story of a ruby ring–her birthstone–that she found in a thrift store for seventy-five cents when she was fifteen, how it used to fit on her pointer finger but now it fits her ring finger, how sometimes she makes up elaborate stories of how it ended up in the bargain bin of a Goodwill in North Georgia.

She tells him about three friendship bracelets. The first and second are made by students, her favorite gifts. The third, blue and yellow–NAPA colors, her brother’s racing colors–made by her nephew. “He’s four, and he is everything annoying about my brother and everything good about my best friend, and I think I would kill someone for him.” Charles is sure that tomorrow he’ll be telling someone they wouldn’t believe the way she lights up when she talks about this kid.

When he’s run out of things to question, she’s examining the red string tied around his wrist. “What about you?” She asks, “what’s up with this guy?”

“My mate, Pierre. He learns about it from our other friend Yuki,” He explains. “They always know the strangest things, Pierre and Yuki,” he chuckles, continues to explain the traditional symbol of good luck. “I don’t know how well it works, though,” he laughs, and she kisses him. It surprises him, but he’s in no place to complain. Perhaps the bracelet works quite well, he thinks when she moves closer, snuggles under his arm while he continues.

Three metal bracelets. One red, one silver, one stainless steel. Morse code: Amour, Bonheur, Smile. A ring that matches the bracelet. Two hex rings that track his heart rate and his sleep and a million other things.

He spins the rings while he talks, pulls them off and hands one to her without missing a beat in his sentence. She toys with it while she listens, hands it back to him with a quiet yawn. When he kisses her hair, it’s still damp and smells like the shampoo she used, something he can’t place, something he hopes eventually to memorize. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”

“You told me that last week.”

“I know,” another kiss against the unfamiliar scent. “I meant it.”

Charles wants to order room service for breakfast. Chris shuts that idea down the minute it comes out of his mouth, furrowing her brows and making him attempt to rationalize waiting half an hour for food that’s five minutes away. He can’t, so they head to the lobby.

Chris is wearing the same shirt, pulls a pair of sweatpants over her flannel shorts and ties her hair into a messy, tangled ponytail. She’d keep it down, but her hair dried while she slept and it’s pointing in directions that defy gravity. A ponytail was the only option. Charles doesn’t change, keeps the t-shirt and shorts he slept in on.

They find Andrea in the lobby, eating at a table for two by himself. Charles pulls a chair over from a nearby table and they sit down with him. By the time Joris appears, the table is officially too full of food to comfortably function.

She hears his phone vibrate against the hard plastic of his chair, and he casually mentions that the rest of his family is on their way down.

Chris doesn’t react, not externally, anyways. She finishes what’s left in her mug, bee-lines it over to the coffee bar to make another. Absent-mindedly, she tears the foil from the creamer cups, rips open the sugar packets and stirs it all together. His mom. His mom. His mom. It’s all she can think about. His mother. The woman who gave him life. Chris knew she’d be meeting his mom this weekend, but she figured she’d have more preparation than a couple minutes warning, assumed she’d be dressed, hair styled, makeup done. That she’d be presenting herself as someone you’d be happy to have your son spend time with, not like a 7/11 customer in Dahlonega at one in the morning. Maybe Charles was right and room service was a good idea.

Even once she’s back at the table, every elevator ding makes her jump, shoots her head in the direction of the opening doors just terrified the people walking out are going to be his family.

“Are you good?” Charles asks after she flinches at the third elevator bell.

“Yup,” she lies, slaps a big, phony smile on her face and takes a sip of her coffee. His hand finds her leg, gives it a little you’ll be fine squeeze.

The next elevator is carrying his family. She instinctively straightens in her seat, moves things around the crowded table so her food looks neat and managed. Joris looks at her with concern, Charles laughs when she refolds a napkin. “Don’t laugh at me,” she whispers.

Out of earshot, Arthur says something through a stretch and a yawn. His mom rolls her eyes, pushes him in the direction of the coffee bar, mutters something to his other brother that makes him chuckle. When his mom spots Chris, she makes a bee-line for her with open arms. Chris practically trips over the leg of her chair trying to stand up before the hug reaches her.

“Come here, chérie,” she smiles. It’s warm, just like her boy’s. “I have heard so much about you.” Oh? Chris smiles, suddenly aware that she’s apparently horribly unprepared for this entire introduction. He’s telling his mother about her?

She hugs Pascale back and looks over her shoulder to Charles with wide eyes. She’s met with a matching expression, Charles shrugging and shaking his head as if to adamantly tell her he has no idea what his mom is talking about. “And what have you heard, Maman?” He asks with a laugh.

“Don’t start with me,” she says, wagging a finger at her boy, and then to Chris, “Ignore him.” She holds her at arm's length, hands on either shoulder and looks her up and down. Chris laughs, nervous but still noticeably genuine. “You are just beautiful, aren’t you?”

Well. Beautiful isn’t a word Chris would use to describe herself at this moment. Ratty, perhaps. Disheveled. Off-putting. But sure, beautiful is a word she might sometimes describe herself as. “Me?” She shakes her head, “ma’am, look at yourself.”

“Oh, please,” his mom scoffs. “Pascale.”

“Pascale.” Chris smiles, goes in for another hug.

Whether it’s because he’s a brother and not a mother, or because meeting said mother is done and over with, Chris is significantly less anxious when it comes to her introduction with Lorenzo.

Chris attempts to insist Pascale take her seat, but is out-insisted to finish her breakfast. Charles finds her hand under the table, winks at her when she interlocks her fingers with his.

– – –

Outside of their shared breakfast, Saturday is a long day apart for Chris and Charles. A quick kiss goodbye in their hotel room when Charles finishes getting ready, a quicker “good luck,” from Chris called after him on his way out the door, and a thumbs up over his head as a response summarizes their interactions for the rest of the day.

Chris works on next week’s lesson plans for a few hours, nothing better to do while she waits to leave for the track.

She watches the third practice session and quali from the grandstand across from the pitlane, and while neither are his greatest showing, Chris can feel it in her bones that everything is going to fall into place for him tomorrow. A third place start is more than good enough to beat out Perez at Red Bull. She knows it like she knows her own name, and nobody is going to tell her otherwise.

She goes back to the hotel after quali, doesn’t bother to attempt sneaking into the paddock to try and find him. It just doesn’t feel worth it–navigating a place she doesn’t know, avoiding the cameras and the reporters and the chaos–not when he’ll be coming back to the hotel, back to her.

She falls asleep moments after sitting down on the couch, and isn’t woken up until she doesn’t even know when. It’s the middle of the night, Charles tells her, guides her to bed and tucks her in like a child, complete with a kiss on the forehead.

- - -

The first words out of her mouth on Sunday morning are an apology.

When Charles tries to cut her off with a laugh and a kiss, she stops him just short of her lips, claiming morning breath. “Wow,” he feigns shock. “First you fall asleep on me, now you will not kiss me?”

She rolls her eyes, grabs the back of his neck and pulls him down to kiss her. “Happy?”

He nods and kisses her again. He keeps waiting for it to not feel so exciting, so much like a stupid movie, so young, and it’s yet to reach that point. It’s not even coming close. “Yes, thank you.”

From the other side of the bathroom wall she dares to ask him if he’s nervous, if the pressure is finally manifesting itself into stress. He’s quiet for a while.

“No,” he eventually calls back.

“No?”

He peels around the doorway, messing with the collar on his team shirt. “Yes,” he admits with a scale-breaking sigh. She wishes he was as sure as himself as she is, that he could feel in his bones it is all going to work out perfectly.

“Well, I’ll be here when you’re done, and we can either celebrate Charles Leclerc, Vice World Champion,” he turns away at the title, the side profile of a smile turning the corner back into the bathroom. “Or, we can celebrate the end of an exhausting season. Either way, we’re celebrating.” He stays quiet. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” he finally speaks, tone lackluster, unconfident. It’s hard to hear him like this, to hear the distinct shards of doubt that rattle in his chest. “We’re celebrating.”

We’re celebrating. Tonight is a celebration. The positives with the negatives, the good always outweighs the bad. She reminds herself like it’s a mantra. Tonight is a celebration.

- - -

Alone in the grandstands with an air of certainty about her, Chris’ bar for friendship has never been lower. She finds a group of girlfriends who appear to be sort-of, almost, kind-of, maybe in the same age demographic as she is. They speak English and don’t ignore her when she talks, and that’s enough for her to latch onto for the evening.

We like McLaren, they tell her, But those Ferrari boys–they’re cute. You can’t help but feel for them. Chris just smiles and nods, offers up a laugh and pretends she won’t be falling asleep next to one of those cute boys later tonight.

The girls–flew in from London on Friday just for this-fill her in on everything she already knows. They tell her about Charles and his fight for P2, about the strategic pitfalls of Ferrari and the fact that on paper, it was Charles’ year to win it all.

They’re more nervous during the race than Chris is, not to say that her leg isn’t bouncing watching the times constantly changing, that she isn’t whispering mumbles prayers into the air between here and there, just that she knows. She knows.

If it was possible to stare through a helmet, Chris would’ve done it during his pitstop, burning the confidence right into his frontal lobe. Her eyes are glued to his car, his helmet, distant and small and buzzing with energy. He’s got it under control, like a perfectly wrapped gift sat in his lap, like a row of monkey bars and hands hardened by months of blisters, like a first kiss and a second kiss and a third kiss. He’s got it under control.

He does, because after what feels simultaneously like the longest and shortest fifty-eight laps of her life, Chris practically has a front row seat to Charles doing donuts. She’s so happy that she thinks she might cry, not that it takes much of anything to pull a tear from her when she’s this exhausted. The girls she’d befriended jump and celebrate and cheer louder than the fireworks.

Chris tries to live the moment. To feel it all, the energy and the roar and the joy, which only makes it that much harder not to cry.

Suddenly, momentarily, irrationally emotionally, while she watches him celebrate with his family and his team in front of the whole world she wishes she was down there with him. Screw the world watching, she wants to hug him until her arms are numb and kiss him until she passes out.

There’s no telling when–or even if–she’s going to ever live through a moment like this again. It’s not one she wants to forget. In the chaos of it all, her hand finds her chest, the hard metal of her cross necklace through the fabric of her top, the pulsing of her heartbeat, loud and racing.

It’s hours before he’s back to the hotel, but it doesn’t feel late at all. He’s still running on adrenaline, just as ready to celebrate as he was when he jumped into his team’s arms. Over the mechanical shifting of the door lock, he can hear Chris’ feet echoing on the floor just on the other side and before he can even make it through the doorway she’s crashing into him. The pure energy that she is knocks him back a few steps, but then he’s hugging her back just as hard, maybe harder.

He can feel her tears soak through his shirt, and with a laugh asks if she’s crying.

“Shut up,” she says, and it only makes him laugh harder, hug tighter. God, the show he would have put on if he could’ve found her right after the race. The trouble he would make. “Oh, my god!” She sniffles, pulls her head off his chest and wipes away her tears. “Kiss me, already!”

And so he does. He kisses the shit out of her.

She pulls away with a smile, arms slinked around his neck like it belongs to her. “So, how does it feel?” She asks, “Vice World Champion, Charles Leclerc.”

He gives her a quick kiss, nothing more than a peck, shrugs, and repeats the action. “Too busy kissing the girl.”

“You’re such an idiot,” she laughs, drops her head so it’s against his chest and vibrates his entire being. It’s a laugh that lights stars, dances around the room like a windchime in the warm August air. The kind so distinct you could hear it across a room ten years later and still know it was her. “A walking cheeseball.”

“A cheeseball?” He humors.

“I said what I said.”

His satisfied hum says more than words ever could, fingers comfortable dancing along the bone of her hip. “We gotta get ready,” he says.

“For what?”

“The celebration.”

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romanoffsbish · 2 years ago

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Puppy Love

Kate Bishop x Fem!Reader

Prompts | 1,683 Words

“Is it so obvious how infatuated I am?”

18+ | Minors DNI | Alluded to Smut

Kate watched you as you danced, her eyes were stuck on your body as it swayed along in perfect rhythm to the beat of the salsa music., "Kate Bishop, you're drooling.," the brunette glared over at her best friend who met her with a petty little smirk., "What?"

"I-Is it so obvious how infatuated I am?," she stuttered worriedly, the last thing the up and coming Avenger needed was for her "silly little crush" on you to get in the way of this weeks mission., "Painfully so Kate."

"I just can't help it.," she groaned pitifully and was met by chuckling—you were perfect in every sense of the word., "She's gorgeous."

——

Kate had taken a liking to you from day one, she stuttered through her introduction of herself, even offering you your own name back in lieu of hers because she was that nervous. Not only were you Natasha and Clint's more recent protege, but you were breathtakingly gorgeous, and apparently another mentor. Even if you were only a few years older than the girl, you'd learned the ropes, and elevated with Shield rather quickly before Avenging.

Yelena truly felt bad for the girl, she was nearly as clueless as Fanny was whenever she faked throwing her toys for her own amusement. There was no doubt in the blonde's mind that you shared in the infatuation, especially when she found out that you begged Fury to have her be your direct partner instead of having Kate.

Dancing was usually an intimate entanglement, and it was clear if you'd been partnered with Kate you'd likely stumble in the process of learning the salsa. The blonde has trained with you all week thus far, but today she had plans to speed this painstakingly slow love story along between you and the archer., "Oh no."

Your feet stilled when you heard a thud that was then followed by Yelena's pained yelps. When you turned around you saw the blonde on the ground, clutching her ankle, and your eyes went wider than you believed possible., "No, no, no! Yelena why?!," she deadpanned., "Oh, I don't know Y/N Y/L/N, maybe because I thought twisting my ankle would be fun!"

Truth be told she really did find this funny, because it's only a bit of plaster covered in paint over her intact ankle to give the illusion of immediate swelling. On the plus side she was likely to be babied by her older sister, and could reap the rewards of unlimited ice cream.

"What about the mission?," you shrieked, and you saw a glint in Yelena's eyes that spoke of trouble., "Kate knows the dance, she's already going on the mission anyways, so I'll have Nat take her place with Clint, and she'll take mine."

Internally you were planning the blondes murder, that sounded far too prepared to be an on the spot idea for her of all people. In the moment you were about to call her bluff, but then you met the eyes of the slightly younger woman and suddenly it wasn't all that bad an idea. Kate smiled nervously at you, her hands fidgeting like crazy as she attempted to speak., "I'm not the best, but I'm sure if we practiced together now I'd get the hang of it quickly."

"Then practice we shall.," you offered, with your hand now extending out for hers. Kate took it without hesitation, and you held back a giggle as she accidentally kicked Yelena's "bad" ankle, and the blonde nearly gave herself away when she refrained from screaming in pain until she remembered., "Ow, Kate Bishop, how could you do this to me? The pain is painful."

—

"Are you ready?," you turned to Kate, smiling so softly that she could feel her heart melting at the care you were showing her., "Yeah, I am."

"Good, because it's showtime baby.," your lips upturned when her breath hitched as your hand slipped into hers so smoothly., "Just follow my lead love, and it'll all be fine.," you pushed through the doors of the ballroom, and escorted your—mission—partner to the floor.

Kate's body was flushed, the sweet terms that slip from your tongue seem intentional, and not for the sake of the mission either. Hope fills her body even more when you pull her into you and glance at her lips, even if only for a second. The action wasn't lost on her, and if she's not a chicken she reckons she might act on it later., "Are perp is two groups to the right, I'll be the one who ends up dancing with him when Nat and Clint tell us they're securing the product."

Kate nodded, she was a bit tongue tied with your hot breaths fanning agains her face., "Alright, are you ready?," once she nodded you began to take the initiative in moving your bodies along to the music that just started. Remaining in a perfect set of steps together the whole way through, you smiled giddily when the archer surprised you with a small spin under her arm as you two turned smoothly.

The dancing chemistry the two of you shared was far greater than yours and Yelena's had been, and you weren't unaware of the reason. Kate has been the center of your heart for quite some time now, and you are grateful to Yelena for her fake fall for this opportunity to hold the archer even if only for a few minutes.

"Y/L/N, Bishop, we're in the back with the package—now's the time to distract the perp and his younger brother.," you leaned into Kate's ear to feign conversation., "Copy that Romanoff.," you pulled back with a saddened smile due to the impending loss of contact with Kate., "Don't have more fun without me.," she shook her head., "Couldn't imagine I would."

Within a few short steps you were tapping the mens shoulder, batting your eyes, and pulling their rigid forms onto the floor by their ties. Missions like these always bothered you, the way you had to be eye candy, and allow these grubby men access to your body in anyway. Kate's guy seemed polite—you deemed that to be because he was gay, but your guy wasn't.

His hands were rough as they gripped you by way of your hips, you grimaced as he pulled you incredibly close, his stubble scratching your cheek, and the overwhelming stench of his cheap cologne making you very nauseous., "Can't wait to get you outta here baby.," he husked into your ear, and you could see the way Kate's face paled from across the floor.

All you could do was giggle, letting the man feel as if he won you over, but you wore a frown as you met the brown eyes of your favorite girl. Kate smiled reassuringly at you, even if she herself wasn't feeling all that great about the situation., “Ladies—the package is secured.,” and just like that the two of your shared a smile just before spinning from the mens holds.

“Hey! Come back here!,” the man went to snatch you back up but Kate was right there to sock him in the jaw., “Don’t fucking touch what isn’t yours asshole.,” she grinned at the sight of the man whimpering as he clutched his face, then she turned to you with a softer smile., “Are you okay?,” you nodded timidly, then as to prevent being caught up in a scene you swiftly grabbed the younger girl’s forearm and ran out of the ballroom, only ever stopping the running once you found a secluded hallway.

“Thank you for defending my honor KitKat.,” she blushed almost as soon as she realized you had her body trapped against the wall., “I’m not his obviously, but then who’s am I, hm?,” you decided to goad the woman, you saw the way her brown eyes darkened ever so slightly under the dim lights as you asked such a teasing question., “Who’s do you want to be?”

You blinked in succession, a little shocked at how bold she was being in return, but you were also super into it., “Oh, who said I wanted to be anyone’s?,” you quirked a brow at her, but then you leaned in, her breath hitching as your lips brushed over her cheek., “I could be yours if you’d just ask, the staring is getting a bit old.”

Kate’s hands that were hovering over your hips now gripped the skin tightly, using the hold she flipped your bodies., “You were always mine.,” then before you could rebut her claims her pillow soft lips were pressed to yours, effective in shutting you up besides your soft moaning as her hands unconsciously slid to your ass, and began to knead at the thinly covered flesh.

“Fuck, Kate.,” you panted as your head flew back into the wall, your chest heaving as you worked expeditiously to fill your quaking lungs., “Not now baby, but definitely later.,” she winked at you, her face wearing a cheeky grin as you shivered in obvious anticipation., “I’m holding you to that.,” you whispered just before diving back in for another heady kiss., “Yeah, and I’ll be holding you down as I—.”

“Ladies. I’m so happy for you, but please do consider meeting us at the rendezvous spot before Clint leaves you in the dust.,” Natasha out of the blue teased the both of you through the coms that were still very much active., “Poor guy refused to put his hearing aids in after removing his specialty coms.,” she continued the teasing, and the two of you cackled, Kate’s red face now smushed into your chest at the idea of her mentor hearing all of that., “Copy that Romanoff, we’re headed your way now.,” you managed to reply between laughs., “Come on sweetheart. It’ll be okay.”

Kate smiled gratefully as she stepped in line behind you, because with your hand in hers she knew that those words were the absolute truth. Everything would be ok as long as she had you.

——

#kate bishop #kate bishop fluff #kate x y/n #kate x fem!reader #kate x you #kate x reader #kate bishop imagine #kate bishop fic #kate bishop pov #kate bishop oneshot #kate bishop x you #kate bishop x y/n #kate bishop x female reader #kate bishop x reader

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betterbooktitles · 11 months ago

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My mother was the first famous person I ever met.

As a doctor with her own practice on the West Side of Cleveland, she couldn’t so much as go out for ice cream a half mile from the house without someone coming up to give her an update on their shallow breathing spells, the new medication they were on for chest pain, or what they might be able to do for a spastic colon. If there were ten people in line at East Coast Custard, a slab of gray concrete with two sliding glass windows on the front, three of them formed a new line to talk to my mom.

I usually rode to East Coast Custard with my brother on our bikes and hauled my cookies n’ cream back home, the cold condensation hurting my left hand as I pressed the plastic cup against one side of the handlebars while using my dominant hand on the other side to steer. I looked over to see my brother Sean, skinny, backward baseball cap, peddling his neon green Schwinn while barely looking up, both hands occupied by the ice cream and spoon floating far behind his untouched handlebars. He looked like he was sitting on the couch at home as he raced effortlessly down the street while eating. He was often already pulling a basketball out of the garage by the time I arrived home. I was left to sit on the porch alone eating a half-melted mess that was now closer to a milkshake. I would beg my brother to go with me to the ice cream spot because if I had to go with my mom, a quick trip would turn into an hour of talking to people who wanted advice, to express gratitude, or (and this was the most common) to have a quick therapy session about their deepest fears and mortality. When they were through, they’d turn to me to tell me how lucky I was to have a mom like her. Eventually, East Coast Custard added a drive-thru so we could get our food quietly without my mom’s fans interrupting.

In 2009, I was sitting with a comic who everyone in the New York comedy scene knew was destined for Marvel movie fame. We were discussing video games and how the crowd looked from our semi-private booth at the back of The Slipper Room when I heard the familiar tone of a stranger interrupting us: “I swear I’m not a stalker” a woman said (an insane way to start a conversation), “…but I love you.” (weirdly, something a stalker might say!). He graciously accepted the compliment while I stewed about how I was interrupted right as I was about to inform my friend of my struggles with Demon’s Souls, a game he’d recommended that had stolen the last few weeks of my life.

In 2018, I was eating Dippin’ Dots and taking turns playing Skee-Ball at Six Flags with a famous battle rapper. Like me, he was also too scared to get on the giant rollercoaster that our partners had decided to brave together, so we hung out in the arcade. Yes, we were regressing. We were two sugar-high 30-somethings screaming at each other about proper Skee-Ball throwing form. We were also, however, in the middle of a serious talk about which of our friends were currently in open marriages and if any relationship amounted to a hill of beans in this crazy world. In the middle of this conversation, I heard someone say, “Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you, but you’re a rapper, right?” We turned to see a man holding cotton candy in one hand, and his daughter’s hand in the other. His wife stood behind him and rolled her eyes. She realized that part of a family outing was about to be ruined. The guy talked to my friend for the better part of a half hour before letting us get back to screaming about what our tickets could buy and discussing when it was necessary to try couples therapy.

The courtesy of these preambles was never extended to my mom when I was a kid. There was no “sorry to interrupt. I swear I’m not following you! I have a quick question.” All my family ever heard was “Oh, Doctor Wilbur!” and she was theirs for the next few minutes.

I have plenty of memories of my mother at soccer games undistracted as she cheered my brother on, and plenty more of her helping me with my own mental and physical health complaints. These memories of impromptu meetings with her patients don’t bother me now, and growing up, my annoyance was nothing more than the average kid gripe about when moms see each other in the mall and you have to brace yourself for five minutes of boredom while they chat. The problem was the frequency. Everyone needed my mom’s attention all the time. To be fair, the conversations were nominally about life and death, but most could probably wait until the next appointment at her office without any serious consequences. I wanted to go shopping for school supplies without my mother being stopped by anyone. I wanted to have dinner at a restaurant without hearing “Oh, Doctor Wilbur!” before the bread could hit the table. I wanted to have a movie night when my mom was on call without her suddenly leaving the room for a twenty-minute conversation about someone’s aging parent having heart palpitations.

Read the rest here.

#essays #funny #reading #writing #memoir #books #long reads #call your mom #mom #better book titles #lit #literature #dan wilbur #famous

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starry-eyed-extraterrestrial · 8 months ago

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Hi!, this is a little one shot I made for my moot @anaalnathrakhs , hey, I hope you like this, this was giving me a lot of trouble but after I got some sleep (finally) I think it's actually cute, if a bit too short for my liking.

Tommy's chest is wet with tears and snot. Nikki lays with his face pressed up against Tommy's lanky frame, hair a complete mess and crying his eyes out.

Tommy doesn't know how exactly he ended up like this, one moment he's passing out face first on his bed (floor mattress) after a few too many drinks and the next Nikki is practically breaking down his door to yell about something or other and when Tommy asks why Nikki is even upset, because he's certainly not the one who took Nikki's cocaine (he thinks) so he has no idea why Nikki even came to him in the first place, Nikki is already in tears.

Tommy's only really known Nikki for about a month and they've only been living together a couple weeks, but in all that time Tommy had kind of made a character sketch on who all the guys were and what they were like. And Nikki before this moment pegged him as everything but a crier.

The guy was tough as nails and cold as ice. He went through life like a wrecking ball, crushing everything in sight that wasn't useful and swinging hands at the first sight of trouble, he was a total maniac, and Tommy liked that.

He was so different from anybody he'd ever met before and he was so ready to make it Tommy has no doubt that he'd kill someone for a little taste of stardom, and he was into crazy antics and good music. So all and all just his type.

But laying here now on his two dollar mattress under his crusty ass sheets with Nikki's wet hot face mashed into his chest and his stage makeup once pristine, now ruined on the surface of his sternum made him second guess all the things he thought he knew about the bassist.

But it didn't make him think less of the older man. No, in fact he's glad to know that his best friend is actually a human and not just some demon who spawned to existence out of his own spite for the idea.

So to try and silently deliver that message, he hugs the crying man closer to his body, just to let him know that he was okay, and that they were okay and that this sign of vulnerability didn't change Tommy's opinions about him at all.

Nikki doesn't share a sign back that he understood what Tommy was trying to say, he just simply continued to cry, like he'd been holding rivers back for years and tonight they'd finally flooded the inside of the rotten house of his soul and burst out with no control.

Tommy feels his heart ache for his friend when a particularly loud sob flows out from the storm. That night he made a decision, one that he'd go back on a few times in the future and then completely forget years later only to return to his word even further in his life, when age started to not be so kind to them anymore.

He will never let go of Nikki Sixx.

#i wanted this to be longer but I'm exhausted and i have exams rn so next time I'll make it longer #hope you like this!#terrorcest #if you squint #can be read platonically #them <3333 #my fic

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justadiva · 2 years ago

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3 marriage proposals girl omg??? what’s your secret!!! and why did you turn them all down, if you’re comfortable answering in general terms 👀

lol I don't mind sharing! they were all very wild experiences and less indicative of me than of the men in question however know going into this that I have never been broken up with, and am a hussy

[tw to the first paragraph for emotional domestic abuse + trauma dump]

First guy was my first real relationship out of high school. like I slept around in college but this was the first guy I Dated. I was 18, he was 29, lots of behind the scenes grooming and emotional stuff which you know its hard to know where the line blurs between neglect and abuse but like if your 18 year old gf is crying next to you and you laugh and turn away from her like maybe youre the asshole?? sorry-- trauma dump but you asked!! anyways we had a crazy experience where he had a health emergency (because we were fucking please keep this in mind) that sent him to the hospital and thats where I met his parents and from that point on they just decided I was a member of the family (I have Extremely Wild Memories of this family). The part that kept me around was that I was Very Close to his niece who lived with him, her mom was out of the picture and so she really took to me and I to her.

2 years later... he has not told me he loves me (nor I him!), but says that we should get married; that he would never want children of his own and that a wedding ring and an actual wedding would be too expensive. Better to get it on paper and nothing else. A few months later from his "proposal" he didn't speak to me for 11 days, and in those 11 days I realized how great my life was without him. I drove to his house (we were long distance at the end of our relationship, I always drove to him and he would never visit me) knocked on his door, greeted his brother, said a sincere goodbye to his niece and then took my book off his bookshelf. He followed me out and was/acted extremely confused; wanted to talk things out but I was done.

Guy 2! Met through a mutual friend, dated for 2 weeks before he said "I love you" (fun fact about me: I hadn't told a man "I love you" once in my whole damn life [thank you man #1!!] until 1 month ago to my current boyfriend) It was fun at first because basically like every single one of our kinks overlapped and that was *fantastic* and I learned a lot about myself in those two months, and like one of his kinks was worshiping/spoiling me, and I'm super into that, but I'm also aloof like a cat. I must be worshiped as the sun, but like.. dont touch me SO MUCH (except my now bff muah) and he was SO needy. and my aloofness really hurt his sensitive puppy feelings.

He also didn't have a lot of skills or interests outside of hockey, which he was extremely good at and I wouldn't be surprised if he makes something of himself with it (this was fun for me cause I like to ice skate and I would skate sometimes while they practiced so the team like me-- hockey slang and dudes are fun!) oh and drinking, he was german [but his name was french] and he could and would drink anyone under the table. But yeah drinking and hockey are not the 2 skills I want the future father of my children to have, and like a month and 1/2 into our really great sex he made the mistake (after the mistake of telling me he loved me during puppy love... I find false declarations to be extremely off putting.) of saying something about "our daughter" and I was like hold up.

I didn't know where to squeeze this in until now: he gave me a ring! so it was his most prized possession that he had gotten after a (deep breath) pilgrimage? in norway where over the course of his journey the blacksmith made and engraved this ring for him that was also a symbol of his soul and his devotion to Freya <- yes he was a Heretic which I am all for cause he was the woke non-racist kind but yeah I was like oh thank you for your soul ring, I like trinkets :D and because he was several times my size the ring didnt fit me so I wore it in on the same chain as my fidget ring.

Then, later? cant remember how long I had the ring- he told me at ihop that he wanted to take me to germany to meet his family so that he could give me his grandmother's wedding ring and then we could be properly married. He explained to me then that ever since I accepted his norse ring that we were married. I was DEVASTATED for him y'all dont understand. I feel so bad about breaking peoples hearts and honestly everything he was doing was *technically*?? romantic but I was like PLEASE save your Grandmother's ring for someone who loves you and has *told you that she loves you* and, I told him in plain english, someone who he had known for longer than 2 months.

He dropped me off from breakfast, I gave him back the first ring [he tried to make me keep it. I put it on the ground in front of him outside my house] and calmly broke up with him while he broke down into tears. I held him and shushed him and said no you may not call me and no we will not be seeing each other again and wished him the best. Then went inside leaving him to cry out there. He knocked a few times but I was busy not answering the door. Hope he's well!

#3 I met through a different mutual friend! he's still only an acquaintance + we're on good terms. (fun fact he has the same name as my dad!) He's autistic and aromantic, very antisocial but extremely intelligent + cool dude. The weird part was that he's from old money and is the "heir" and needs an heir himself. So he, as one of our first interactions + actually without ever meeting me but only knowing of me through our mutual friend proposed.

Breakdown: We would be married like Victorian Style, married in title but without romance + I would have a yearly salary basically for having 1 son (like invitro eugenics style so like its 5sure a boy and I would only have 1 child), and raising him lovingly in the household of (but not underfoot of) my husband. I am slightly off my own rocker so I genuinely contemplated this and broke down the pros and cons.

PROS: I can be a housewife its a skillset and I have it. (oh maybe thats why I get dudes who want a Wife tm) He'd set me up for life like super legal style and thats sexy. I could sleep around! It was like part of the deal! We could each have our partners as long as it wouldn't affect the boy (we're getting to that) [I could divorce him after the boy went to college and retain my yearly salary!] + he even was like "we dont have to have sex" but I was offended by this honestly because Im a vixen.

CONS: Really and truly the only cons are that I cannot see how this situation would not traumatize The Boy and if I ever did have A Son And Heir he would become My One True Love and Obsession [throw back to me being crazy :)] and I could not bare for him to be traumatized.

So yeah I just basically said "Thank you for the very cool offer but I cannot accept." and he was like "Contact me if you ever change your mind." The reason I actually even wrote those tags earlier was I was thinking to myself that if my current relationship doesnt work out that I would call him.

#anon you have to reveal yourself so ppl dont think I sent this to myself #the secret is being down to clown #I have a huge threshold for crazy until the day that I am done with it #i also think being aloof has something to do with it a lot of men tell me im just like their mother...

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sweetmusingss · 2 years ago

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I smile widely at you, feeling so incredibly proud of you for how far you have come with your novel. I place my hands on either side of your face, practically beaming at you. “I am so proud of you, baby. That’s amazing! I can’t wait to read it and annoy everyone by never shutting up about my boyfriend who wrote a whole book. Just let me know anything I can do to help,” I say to you, knowing I would be right there to support you when it came to taking meetings with publishers. I didn’t spend too much time on social media anymore but I had a big following and I knew I would be promoting your book like crazy when it came out. “You have so much to be proud of and I am so happy for you that you’re almost done. And I know it’s going to do so well, people will be begging you to write a sequel, including me,” I giggle softly.

Seb laughed and stared at you lovingly, loving how proud of him you were. He never felt he deserved the praise, but you always made him feel good and gave his ego a stroke or two. “All your friends will disown you. Don’t lose them because of me and my dumb novel.” He laughs, kissing the top of your head. “I’m more proud of you with opening your own clinic... that’s way more impressive than a guy who just sat at his laptop and wrote a story for years on end. I doubt it will even get that much recognition and that’s fine... I’m just excited that I actually finished it. Or well, close to finishing it. I started the damn thing 5 or 6 years ago on a whim. I didn’t even mean to make it into this long winded thing... but here we are.”

Frank frowned when hearing what Kayleigh said to him, immediately feeling defensive of you and the friendship he had with you. He didn’t like hearing Kayleigh’s tone and it reminded him too much of Jamia in the moment. Kayleigh was obviously much nicer but he didn’t like anyone asking questions about you. “What? Is there some rule that you can only be friends with people your age? We met back when I was a professor and she was a student. She was one of my best students. We connected over our love for literature,” he said, annoyed that Gerard was apparently running his mouth yet again. He didn’t know to tell Kayleigh about his relationship with you because he didn’t really think it was anyone’s business. “She’s a better friend to me than Gerard has been lately, that’s for sure,” he said, acting a little petty but he refused to explain himself, either.

Gabe looked down when feeling you clinging onto him. He looked at you in confusion before seeing what - or rather, who - you were staring at and he immediately understood. He knew you had likely had him tag along tonight because you had wanted to get Frank’s attention. He was worried about you but he also knew you were stubborn and he couldn’t stop you from going after Frank. “Since when are you one to run away?,” he asks you, gesturing over to Frank and his girlfriend, finding it funny that Frank’s body language was so stiff with her.

“You were friends with one of your students?” Kayleigh didn’t mean to come off as nosey or anything, having no idea about Jamia or his triggers with that sort of stuff. She was just curious, but she did find Frank’s story a bit odd. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of professors becoming friends with their students and remaining in touch past the school year unless they were having an affair.” She meant it off handedly, having no idea how accurate her words were. She furrows her brows, “Gee? What’s Gee done? You’ve never even mentioned her and now she’s suddenly a better friend than your best friend?” She had never seen Frank like this, so uncomfortable and stiff. Maybe on their first date, but she got him to loosen up a tiny bit pretty quickly and she’s been working on it ever since but this felt like he had an ice wall up that she couldn’t get through. “Frankie, what’s wrong? Why are you so tense?” She rubs at his arm, feeling his tense muscles under his shirt.

I look up at him with a furrowed brow, scoffing at him. “I’m not running away. I just don’t wanna be around them... I’m good with the lovey dovey couple crap, you know that. Would rather gouge my eyes out with a toothpick.” I take a long swig of my drink, clearly slightly annoyed. I used to love romance when I was with Frank, the two of us literally quoting romantic literature back and forth all day long. “I just... don’t like her, that’s all. She seems annoying.”

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neonlights92 · 4 years ago

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Night Changes: PART ONE

Jeon Jungkook has spent the last twenty years alone. Single. Solo.

And that’s just the way he likes it. That is, until he meets the supposed love of his life. Suddenly he’s falling over himself at the chance of a real relationship with someone.

The only thing getting in his way? You.

genre: fuckboy!jungkookie, college!jungkookie, romcom, e2l (kinda)

A/N: my attempt at a college kookie story? enjooooy

Perhaps it is the universe telling him to stop drinking.

Jeon Jungkook really needs to start listening to the universe, and stop listening to - well to put it bluntly - his penis.

When he wakes up in another stranger’s bed, with a splitting headache, and lipstick marks scattered across his chest, he reckons he should start making better life choices.

The young woman sharing his bed - a girl from the party last night, with legs that go on for miles - rolls over and blinks her eyes open sleepily. She smiles at him.

“Hi Jungkook.”

He racks his brain for her name. Jisoo… Jennie… Lisa… Rose?

He feels bad - he really really does - but what can he do? He was seven tequilas in, when Taehyung convinced him that taking her home would be a good idea.

“Hi…. You.” He finishes lamely, smiling sheepishly.

She blinks again, this time a little more furious. Her eyes narrow after a moment.

“You don’t remember my name, do you?” She purses her stained lips, and Jungkook really does feel awful.

Or maybe that’s just the hangover.

“I uh - maybe. It’s.. Last night’s a little bit grainy for me, to be honest.”

She seems unimpressed, arching a well-groomed brow, “You’re in most of my classes at college, Jeon Jungkook.”

And really that’s when he feels like a complete asshole.

“Shit. I’m sorry,” He tries to place her - he tries so fucking hard - but he knows he doesn’t recognise her, and a worm of guilt starts niggling in the pit of his stomach.

She rolls her eyes and sits up, pressing a hand against her forehead and clicking her tongue, “Whatever. Just get out. Jerk.”

Jungkook feels bad. Seriously, he does.

But he can’t help but share her sentiment.

He scrambles out of bed, fishing around her bedroom floor for the jeans he so carelessly threw off, and the white shirt he’s sure is stained with something he’ll never be able to get rid of. He stumbles into the clothing and turns back towards the nameless woman glaring at him from underneath the covers.

“Do you hate me?”

She rolls her eyes, “Get out of my house, asshole.” He winces. He knows he deserves that.

“See you soon?” She shakes her head, and tugs a hand through her unruly hair, “Hopefully not.” Jungkook bolts out of there like his life depends on it but just as he pulls the front door open, somebody else blocks his way. And suddenly everything in the world shifts, and he feels as though his heart has just split open right down the middle.

Because standing in front of him, holding two bags of groceries, is an absolute angel.

Jungkook thinks - no he’s certain - she’s the most beautiful woman he’s seen in his entire life, and now he understands the songs, and the sonnets and the plays. This is what love at first sight is.

It has to be.

“Oh.” She laughs a little, “Hi.”

Jungkook’s eyes widen, “Hi.”

“You must be Y/N’s guest.”

Y/N. So that’s her name.

“Uh… Yeah.”

Her cheeks flush brightly, “I’m Soomi, Y/N’s roommate.”

“Nice to meet you Y/N’s roommate. I’m Jungkook.”

When she giggles, Jungkook feels like he’s ascended into another plane of existence.

“Well it’s nice to meet you too.” Her eyes lower to his haphazardly buttoned shirt, “Under the circumstances.” Jungkook feels stupid and wonderful all at the same time, and just as he’s about to do something crazy - like ask for her number, or ask her to marry him, even - somebody clears their throat from behind him.

In a moment, Jungkook remembers exactly where he is. His heart drops.

Shit.

Y/N.

“I see you’ve met the asshole I slept with last night,” Y/N raises a brow and clicks her tongue, “You were just on your way out, Jungkook, weren’t you?”

“I… Uh… Yeah. On my way out.” Jungkook knows he has no right to feel dejected - after all he was the one who couldn’t remember Y/N’s name in the first place. But he’s sure Soomi might very well be the love of his life, and he can’t possibly just walk out like this, can he? But when he turns to face Soomi he notices she’s already stepped out of the way for him… And there’s really nothing more he can do.

“Well uh… It was nice to meet you Soomi,” He moves into the hallway and turns to give Y/N a half smile, “See you in class.”

“Like I said.” Y/N pulls a face, “Hopefully not.”

Soomi giggles again and he feels like he’s been shot straight through the heart, “Bye Jungkook!”

The door slams shut in his face, and the moment Jungkook is alone he notices how quickly his heart is racing. Oh god.

He’s in love.

He has to be.

“Jungkook. You’re being ridiculous.” Jungkook’s roommate Namjoon rolls his dark eyes, “She is not the “love of your life.” Stop being so dramatic, you sound like Jin.” Jungkook feels like his heart is about to burst. It’s been less than three hours since he met Soomi and all he can think about is the curve of her smile.

“No. I’m serious, Namjoon. C’mon, when have you ever known me to feel this way about a girl?”

Namjoon sets his mug of coffee to one side and clicks his tongue, “Never. I’ve never known you to feel this way about a girl. Which only further proves my point - you’re being ridiculous.”

“You’re just made of ice,” He comments bitterly, “I’m serious Namjoon. I’m in love.”

“Listen Jungkook you know I usually love to disagree with Namjoon,” This comes from Jungkook’s other roommate Taehyung who is slung across the couch lazily, “But I’ve got to say… This time he’s got a point. You sound like a crazy person.”

“If you saw her you’d know exactly what I mean.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes so hard Jungkook is surprised he doesn’t lose one to the back of his skull.

“It’s a girl Jungkook. A girl you met for all of twenty seconds.” “She was an angel.”

Taehyung giggles, “You’ve really got it bad huh?” “My heart hasn’t stopped pounding since I left her.” Jungkook feels himself deflate slightly, “I need to see her again.” “And how are you going to do that?” Taehyung raises a dark brow, “Surely you don’t have any classes with her, or you would’ve seen her by now.”

“No but… I have classes with Y/N.” Jungkook knows it’s a dumb suggestion.

But he can’t help it. He needs to see Soomi again.

“Y/N as in the girl who you slept with and who’s name you couldn’t remember?” Namjoon scoffs, “Even you can’t be dumb enough to think she’d help you out of the goodness of her heart.”

“No… Maybe not out of the goodness of her heart.” Jungkook agrees, carding a hand through his cherry red locks, “But I can figure out something she wants. Y’know… Mutually beneficial.”

“I hope you’re not talking about your penis,” Taehyung pulls a face.

“Have you not been listening for the past hour Taehyung? I am in love with Soomi - I’m not about to sleep with her roommate...Again. I’m a one woman man.”

Namjoon pushes himself to his feet, “Your only hope is that she’s in love with somebody else. Somebody you could potentially help her seduce.”

Jungkook stands too, “That’s brilliant.” “What about Hoseok?” Taehyung cocks his head to the side, “Everybody’s in love with Hoseok.”

“Do not drag Hoseok into this Jungkook.” Namjoon gives his friend a pointed look, “I’m serious. He’s still heartbroken over Alexa.”

“Alexis,” Taehyung corrects, “Why can’t you ever bother to get the names of our girlfriends right?”

As Namjoon and Taehyung argue over Namjoon’s inability to remember names correctly, Jungkook starts thinking of all the ways he can convince Y/N to help him with Soomi.

It’ll be a piece of cake.

Or so he hopes.

Monday morning rolls around and Jungkook spends practically every minute from the moment he leaves his dorm scouring the campus for Y/N. She isn’t in his first class of the day - or even the second. By his third class of the day he starts to wonder if maybe she’d confused him with someone else.

Maybe there’s another Jeon Jungkook on campus who sleeps with attractive women and forgets their name in the morning. Somebody else is stealing his game.

But then - like a vision from heaven - she walks into his political science class as if she isn’t the key to all his happiness. Her eyes flit across the lecture room and when they land on Jungkook she glares. He wants to sink back against himself but he refuses - instead he smiles widely and gestures for her to sit in the empty seat beside him.

She shakes her head as if he’s crazy (and to be honest, he might be) and instead moves towards the very back, sliding into a seat all on her own.

Jungkook grunts. He can’t really blame her.

Still. Does she really have to make things so difficult?

He grabs his books and shuffles over to where Y/N is sat, engrossed by something on her phone. When he looks closer he realises it's one of those pimple popping compilations on Youtube.

Gross.

Jungkook clears his throat and when she looks up her expression morphs from surprise into annoyance.

“What are you doing?”

“Sitting beside my new friend,” He grins wider, “Y/N.”

Her eyes narrow into slits, “What do you want?”

“To make amends,” Jungkook answers immediately, “I kind of feel like an asshole.” “You should.” She gives him another look of annoyance, “But I’m also not stupid. You’ve got the hots for Soomi, haven’t you?”

Jungkook feels his stomach drop. Is he that obvious?

“Everyone has the hots for Soomi,” Y/N waves her hand noncommittally and gives him a once over, “Though not everyone has slept with her roommate.”

Jungkook winces. It’s clear Y/N despises him.

“Would it help if I said I was sorry?”

“For forgetting my name or for giving me the worst head of my life?” The insult sears him. Jungkook may be a little bit of a lady’s man but he’s always been determined to please his lovers. He wishes he could remember any part of their tryst (to prove her wrong, more than anything) but once again he draws a blank.

“I can make it up to you.” She raises a brow, “I highly doubt that.”

Jungkook opens his mouth to argue with her - before Y/N’s attention is stolen by the figure that has just walked through the double doors of their lecture room. Jungkook follows her gaze and smirks when he realises who she’s staring at.

“So you have the hots for Park Jimin then?”

Y/N’s eyes snap up to meet his and she seems flustered, “What?”

“You just looked at him like he rearranged the stars to spell your name,” Jungkook’s smirk widens, “You like him.”

Y/N looks ready to smack him across the face.

“Shut up.”

“I’m not wrong though, am I?” When her eyebrows dip into a scowl, Jungkook knows he’s won this battle. He leans towards her, conspiratorially.

“I know Jimin well.”

That’s kind of a bold statement (and kind of a lie.) Jungkook knows of Jimin. He’s on the same dance team as Taehyung and Hoseok - two of Jungkook’s closest friends. That’s enough of an in, isn’t it?

“No you don’t.” She mutters with a roll of her eyes, “I can see where you’re going with this.”

“No seriously. He’s best friends with Kim Taehyung,” Again a slight overstatement, but Jungkook doesn’t correct himself, “And Taehyung is like my brother. We grew up together.”

“So what? You help me out with Jimin and I have to do the same for Soomi?” She scoffs, “Soomi and I are best friends. I don’t want to lie to her.” “It wouldn’t be lying.” Jungkook’s voice pinches a little, “It’s just helping fate along.” “Fate?” Y/N’s expression morphs into one of disbelief, “Oh my god. You really do have the hots for her.” “If cupid himself descended to earth and shot me in the ass with an arrow, I’d feel exactly the same for her. Seriously.”

Y/N seems to contemplate the suggestion. Her eyes move to meet the back of Jimin’s head - where he’s sat in the front row - and she sighs heavily. Jungkook tries to read her face.

Is she softening up to the idea?

“Let’s say I agreed to help you.” Her voice is flat, “How can I be sure Soomi won’t just be another notch on your bedpost?”

Jungkook feels his chest constrict, “I resent that. Just because I have more experience than others doesn’t mean I’m an asshole. I don’t pursue women with the intentions of fucking them over.”

He won’t admit it but that assumption kind of pisses him off.

When Y/N is quiet a moment longer, Jungkook sighs and tugs a hand through his hair.

“If I do fuck her over…. Which I won’t. I give you full permission to start a rumour that my penis is the size of a cocktail sausage. I won’t even deny it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and Jungkook notices (but doesn’t comment on) a red flush to her neck.

“Alright. Fine. I’ll help you out with Soomi, if you help me out with Jimin.”

Jungkook has to force himself not to punch the air in triumph. Instead he grins - nice and wide - and nudges Y/N playfully, “I think this is the start of a very beautiful friendship.”

She groans.

“I’m already regretting this.”

Jungkook sends Y/N a text message the next morning, bright and early. He doesn’t expect a response from her - he assumes she’s more of a night owl than an early bird - but then his phone pings in response and he has to say he’s a little surprised.

Jungkook: good mornin’ y/n… this is cupid calling

Y/N: y’know.. I knew giving you my number was a bad idea

Jungkook: oh c’mon don’t be like that, now that we’re friends you should definitely start warming up to me

Her reply takes a little longer but Jungkook isn’t worried. Despite what she feels towards him, Y/N thinks her only way to Jimin’s heart is through Jungkook. So she’ll just have to put up with it.

Y/N: I just puked in my mouth at the thought of warming up anywhere close to you. Gross

Jungkook smiles at her response.

Jungkook: I think you like me more than you're willing to admit. Anyway we need to get on with our…. Agreement. Want to come round this evening to discuss arrangements? I’ll even throw in some pizza and beer.

Y/N: I only like hawaiian.

Jungkook: Disgusting. You and Namjoon will get on fantastically then. Alright hawaiian it is.

He sends her his address and when she replies with the puking emoji he laughs despite himself.

Maybe she’s not all that bad.

“Pineapple on pizza is a cardinal sin.” Y/N glares at Jungkook as she tucks into her third slice, “Why are you hating?”

“I just - I don’t get it.”

Y/N had arrived at his apartment earlier that evening with a six pack of beer in what Jungkook had assumed was a begrudging olive branch. The two of them had spent the last hour discussing the delicate intricacies of mario kart, and Jungkook had found himself enjoying her company more and more.

He hated to admit it but she was kind of cool.

Only kind of, though.

“You don’t get it because your taste buds are subpar,” She moves her mouth into a small smile and Jungkook almost gasps at the gesture, “Hawaiian is the only acceptable way to eat pizza. Period.”

“Y’know you look much cuter when you smile,” He quips, watching as she chokes on the last piece of crust, “You should do it more often.” Her eyes narrow into a glare, “I smile at people who bother to remember my name.”

“I thought you’d forgiven me for that. I’m helping you out with Jimin aren’t I?”

Y/N laughs - and Jungkook is surprised at the warmth in her tone, “At a price. Or are you forgetting I’m setting you up with Soomi?”

“Which reminds me,” He scoots closer towards her, pushing the pizza box out of the way, “What’s our plan of action?” Y/N seems to pause for a moment, her eyes flicking nervously across his face as she tucks some of her hair behind her ear. Jungkook doesn’t comment on her sudden shift in behaviour, but he notices it.

Man. Girls are weird.

“I thought maybe… You could come over one night, to watch a movie or whatever. And you could ask Taehyung and Jimin to join, too.”

Jungkook nods emphatically, “That’s a good plan. Something intimate to really plant those seeds of love.”

Y/N laughs again and he notices the crinkles at the sides of her eyes when she does so. Weird. Why hasn’t he seen those before? Admittedly… It’s kind of adorable.

“Plant those seeds of love,” She pulls a face, “You really are a wordsmith, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Is it any wonder when my major is English lit?”

“Me too,” She cocks her head to one side, hair falling out from behind her ears, “Makes sense why you’re in most of my classes.”

Jungkook feels kind of (very) guilty as memories of their morning together are brought back.

“I really do feel like shit for not remembering you.” He rubs the back of his neck in that universal boy sign for awkwardness, and clicks his tongue, “I wish I had.”

She shrugs, her eyes darkening a moment as she looks away, “It’s alright. I’m kind of used to it to be honest. Always been more of a... Background kind of person.”

Jungkook clucks, like a mother hen disappointed at her chicks, “Hey don’t say that about yourself.”

When Y/N moves her eyes to meet with his own again, Jungkook notices she doesn’t seem angry or bitter. Just resigned.

“But it’s true,” She licks her bottom lip and smiles almost sadly, “Soomi’s always been the centre of attention everywhere we go. And I’ve known her… Forever, really. So it makes sense. Someone always has to take the back seat. I don’t mind it. Suits me just fine.”

Now Jungkook really feels like an asshole. When she was prickly, it was easy to shove everything under the carpet, and pretend that not knowing her name wasn’t sort of horrible.

But now she was being nice, it made everything a hundred times worse.

“I’m sorry Y/N. Really.”

She meets his gaze again and smiles - this time a little lighter, “Don’t worry about it. Now you know who I am… And you’ll never forget it. Not least because I’m the love of your life’s best friend.”

Jungkook feels kind of awful right now, but he knows that apologising again will probably only annoy her. He tucks his guilt somewhere into the back of his mind and smiles widely, trying to ease the mood.

“Right. And I’m the person who is going to help you snag the man of your dreams!”

She laughs at that, taking a final chug of her beer before setting the empty bottle to one side.

“Park Jimin here I come!”

“You’ve got a one way ticket to Bonetown and Jimin is flying first class!”

She laughs louder, this time snorting, “That makes no sense, but I’ll take it.”

They spend the rest of the evening hanging out in a way that feels strangely familiar, and it’s only when Y/N’s head begins to lull to one side that Jungkook realises it’s past three am. And as he orders her an uber home, and insists she takes the final slice of pizza for the journey home, Jungkook realises that Y/N is more than just kind of cute.

She’s kind of great.

Later on that week, as Jungkook fills Namjoon and Taehyung in on his progress with Y/N, the former seems less than impressed.

“This is only going to end badly.” Namjoon shakes his head, “Haven’t you ever seen a romantic comedy? Shit like this only ends in tears.”

Jungkook takes a swig from his beer and rolls his eyes, “Have you ever tried to be positive a single day in your life Namjoon? Y/N agreed to help me. It’s progress.”

“But you dragged me into it,” Taehyung seems unimpressed, “And I told you me and Jimin aren’t even that close.”

“Okay so I might have embellished slightly….”

“Slightly? You called us the best of friends,” Taehyung groans at his friend’s stupidity, “I’m not sure Jimin even knows what major I’m taking.”

“This is the most Jungkook problem of all time,” Namjoon guffaws at the situation, “How the hell are you going to sort this out.” “Tae - I just need you to convince Jimin to come on one date.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes, “I don’t know him that well, Kook. What exactly am I supposed to say?”

“I don’t know but you once convinced your mom those nudes of you that got leaked senior year of high school were actually for an art project,” Jungkook pleads with his friend, “I know you can do this.” Taehyung laughs at the memory and pulls a face, “If he says no though, there’s not much else I can do.” “Fine. But at least try.”

Jungkook knows that the universe is working in his favour. It has to be. The moment he laid eyes on Soomi he knew he’d never be happy again without her.

“Alright Kook I’ll try. But I’m not making any promises.” Jungkook grins, “You’re the best.”

“I know I am,” He leans further back into the couch and grabs a slice of the pizza Namjoon ordered, surreptitiously picking off the pineapple, “Now what are you going to do about Y/N?” Jungkook raises a brow, “What do you mean?” “Well you described her as a she-demon,” Namjoon snorts, choking on some of his beer, “How exactly is that going to seduce Jimin?” “Remember everyone loves him,” Taehyung tacks on - less than helpfully - his smirk growing, “She’s going to have to get in line.” “Everyone does not love Jimin.”

Taehyung scoffs, “You’re kidding right? I once watched him turn down three girls in one night.”

“Yeah. This girl from my psych class says he’s still heart broken from his ex,” Namjoon seems to be enjoying Jungkook’s predicament a little too much, “Says he won’t even give anyone a chance.”

Jungkook refuses to let his friends’ pessimism get in the way of his elation. He’s one step closer to Soomi, and if Jimin thinks he can be the one to stand in his way he’s got another thing coming.

“I’ll make it work.” He answers with more confidence than he necessarily feels, “Besides, Y/N’s not that bad. In certain lights she might even be considered kind of… Cute. She’s just a little...brash.”

“Could her brashness towards you be due to the fact you forgot her name after an evening of vigorous love making?” Taehyung gives his friend a knowing look, “I mean that would probably even hurt you Jungkook. And you’re the master of not giving a fuck.”

“I apologised.” He says it like that should fix everything, but in the depths of his heart Jungkook knows forgetting her name was kind of (really) shitty, “Besides. If I really do set her up with Jimin and this all works out perfectly she’ll have a lot to thank me for. Might even forgive me.”

Taehyung laughs and Namjoon pulls a face.

“We live in hope.” “That we do Joon.” Jungkook grins, “That we do.”

#bts #bangtan #jungkook #fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fanfiction #imagine #jungkookxreader #smut #angst #fuckboy!jungkook #college!jungkook #e2l

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imthebadguyyy · 4 years ago

Text

Mon Amour

Summary - You've grown up with Charles, and as much as you hate to admit it, you love him. Pierre knows, and clearly sees how desperately Charles loves you too. It's true what they say, love will always find a way.

The Monaco Grand Prix was one of the most fun, exhilarating and exciting Grand Prix's of the entire F1 Season. You were excited enough, and since you already lived nearby, all you had to do was make your way to Charles's home, and then make your way to the track together. To say you were excited was an understatement, and you could barely contain the nerves and excitement you were feeling.

Charles was nervous. He didn't know why, Monaco was his circuit, and he always drove well on the track. He had been confident through free practice, and he was starting on pole, with an excellent quali result. But he was nervous, and something told him it had nothing to do with the race, and everything to do with Y/N.

Y/N. His best friend. His go-to. His shoulder to cry on. She had been there through it all, when his dad died, when Jules died. Whenever he needed someone to talk to or just needed a hug, he could always turn to her. He had met Y/N at a go kart race, sitting with her mother, and eating an ice lolly. Her hair had been in two little ponytails, and she was wearing a pretty polka doted red and blue dress. He was sitting with Pierre, and couldn't help staring at the girl, not even paying attention to what Pierre was saying, until he had snapped his fingers in front of Charles's face to tell him the race was about to begin.

The race had been wonderful, and he had won first place. His dad and Pierre's dad had both been so proud, and had bought both of them ice creams, and as they sat eating their cones, Y/N had made her way over to the pair. "You drove really well today, and my mommy told me I should come over to say congratulations" Too surprised to say anything, he let Pierre take over, and watched as he conversed with her. Then, she turned to him and said, "Whats your name? Mine's Y/N' and he had managed to stutter out, "C-Charles"

And thats how your friendship had begun. Since then, you had accompanied him to every race he had, had been there when he signed for Sauber (Alfa Romeo) and then when he signed for Ferrari. You had been so proud, you had cried when he told you, and hugged him tight and told him that you were incredibly proud of him, and that you were sure that his dad and Jules would have been incredibly proud of him too. And then he had cried too, and you two had cried together, and spent the rest of the night together, just hugging each other.

And here you were again, at his door, looking simply stunning in the outfit you had picked for the race track, looking like an angel sent from heaven. Well, you were his angel. The problem was, he couldn't tell you. You didn't love him, and the last thing he needed was to jeopardise your relationship by confessing his feelings. His stupid, stupid feelings.

"You look gorgeous" Charles said, leaning forward to give you a hug, and a soft kiss on your cheek. If he had been looking at you, he probably would have seen how you had gotten slightly flustered at his gesture. "Thanks, you don't look too bad yourself' you replied, reciprocating his gesture by kissing his cheek. Apparently, neither one of you were good at paying attention, because you didn't see the way he blushed either. "Ready for the race?" "Always" "Is Pierre going to be there?" "Yes he is, we'll probably meet him on the way to the paddock" As much as he hated to admit it, he always felt a pang of jealousy when you brought up his best friend, because he thought that you had feelings for the Frenchman,

"Okay then" "Are you ready to go?"

Nodding your head, you picked up your purse and checked your reflection in the mirror one more time, and brushed a stray strand of unruly hair behind your ears. Grabbing the keys to his Ferrari, he closed the door as the both of you left his house. The car ride to the paddock was fairly quiet, as you made occasional comment about random things, and bopped your heads to some music.

Arriving at the paddock, Charles noticed the paps that were waiting to descend upon you two like vultures. "merde" he mumbled under his breath, knowing you didn't really liken your picture being taken by random strangers. Sighing, you reached out to touch his shoulder. Its okay. I don't mind" 'I know, but it's unfair to you to have your privacy invaded" he replied, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "Hey, it's okay. Let's just go". Opening the car door, you took a deep breath to calm the nerves beginning to appear in your tummy.

But you needn't have worried. As soon as you opened the car door, Charles was by your side, lacing his fingers through yours, the other arm wrapping around your waist, to fully protect you from the prying cameras. Trying not to focus on how right it felt, to have his arm around your body, and to feel his fingers threading through your own. Your heart was beating so fast, you wouldn't be surprised if he could hear it, considering how closely wrapped he was around your own body. As the Ferrari garage came into view, you began to calm down, and became aware of the fact that his arm was still wrapped around your waist, and his hand was still holding yours.

-------------------------------------------------------

Walking over from the Toro Rosso/Alpha Tauri garage, Pierre spotted Charles and Y/N making their way over to the Ferrari. Noticing the way Charles kept his arm tightly around Y/N, he couldn't help but grin, and assumed that Charles had finally told Y/N how he felt about her. Grinning even more broadly, he strutted over to the Ferrari garage, and walked over to where his best friend was standing with Mattia and his race engineer. "Hello, mon ami. I see you've finally done it?" somewhat confused, Charles turned to face the frenchmen, and asked, "Done what?" 'Told Y/N you love her" Pierre replied, watching his friends face glow the same red as the colour of his car and race suit. "What?! I have done no such thing. What would make you think that?"

"Let me think, because you've been in love with her since we were children. Come on Charles, don't chicken out now. You should definitely tell her. She is an extremely attractive woman, and I won't be surprised if someone else also likes her or asks her out. You two are made for each other. Now stop delaying !" Sighing, Charles just shook his head, and went into his drivers room, turning halfway to wave at his friend. Somewhat frustrated, he walked into the room, kicking the door in the process. "fanculo, idiota!" he mumbled, hands reaching up to his head to pull on his and let out a growl.

"Charles? You okay ?" Y/N asked, peeking her head into his room, slight concern in her E/C eyes. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine. Just nervous" 'Nervous?' she asked walking in, and sitting down next to him. "Yeah, it's a big race, and points are very important if we want to beat Mercedes and actually win this year. Besides the last race wasn't that good, and Mattia was a little upset about it. I'm just a little nervous" Reaching out to take his hand into hers, Y/N ran a soft hand through his hair, and his eyes fluttered shut for a second. "Charles, listen to me. You are an incredibly talented person. When you get in the car, you push it to the limits and you give it everything. It's okay to be nervous, but you're on pole. I know you will give it your all, and every single person in this garage believes in you. And I believe in you the most. So go out there , and give it your everything. I know you can do it" As you had been speaking, Charles had been running his thumb over your knuckles, on the hand that was holding his, and when you finished, he raised it to his lips, and pressed his soft, pink lips to your knuckles.

"Thank you, tesoro" You froze. He had never called you 'sweetheart' before. You could feel your heart rate rising ever so slightly, and your breathing become slightly shallow, as his brown hazel eyes looked up into your own, and seemingly held your gaze. The tension in the room seemed to thicken, reaching upto a point where it was nearly suffocating. Heads leaning closer to each other, his hand tightening the grip he had on yours, sliding softly up your arm, as your eyes fluttered shut, the anticipation sending your heart rate up to crazy numbers. His face was so close to yours, you could feel his breath on your lips, almost hear his heartbeat, and hoping to God he couldn't hear how embarrassingly loud yours was. Just as your lips nearly touched, there was a knock on the door, and his race engineer, poked his head in, looking somewhat awkward. "Its time to go Charles, time to get in the car"

Sighing softly, he pulled away, as your eyes fluttered behind your eyelids. "Go and win this. I'll be cheering you on" you said, not quite meeting his eyes, but giving him a soft, half hearted smile. "Thanks" he said, giving your hand a squeeze, as he walked out to the garage to get in his car. Burying your head in your hands, you felt like you could scream, sob and punch something at the same time. Letting out a shaky breath, you ran a hand over your face and stood up, making your way up to where you were watching the race from.

-------------------------------------------------------

The race was over, and Charles had won 1st place, with Lewis in second and Valterri in third. As he had stood on the podium, he had found your face in the crowd, smiling and cheering for him, as you let out a whoop that he couldn't hear, but you didn't care. The adrenaline from the win was pumping through his veins, as he climbed down from the podium, eyes searching for you, as his teammates and crew congratulated him on his win, but he was really only half listening.

Then he saw you, standing in front of the garage, hair flying around in the wind that had picked up in the last lap of the race. Smiling as you looked up to see him, you began to run towards him, as he ran to meet you halfway. You jumped into his arms, as his wrapped around your thighs and your waist to keep you stable, as you wrapped yours around his muscled neck, leaning your forehead down to rest against his, as you muttered a soft "congratulations' in his ear, and pressed your lips to his temple, as his eyes closed, fully revelling in your embrace and body heat, not caring about how the paps had probably got a pretty good shot of you two, or how the tabloids were probably wetting themselves with article possibilities. 'thank you mon ange, thank you for supporting me" "anytime"

As you planted your feet back on the ground, and loosened your grip around him slowly, he moved his arm so one was wrapped around your waist, and the other rested loosely on his hip. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Pierre approaching, and smiled at his best friend. "Congratulation mon ami. That was a superb race. Y/N long time no see, seems like you have forgotten me"

Giggling, you stepped away from Charles to give him a hug. "Of course not, how could I forget my best friend! I was going to saw hello before the race but I didn't get the chance. Good race!" "Thank you, It's so good to see you again here. Looks like Charles has been taking up all your time" He said, smirking at the Monégasque driver, who blushed, before looking away. Laughing, you shook your head, moving your body closer to Charles's again. "Oh Y/N you should come to the party tonight. It's on a yacht, and we can have some good fun a well. What do you say ?' "Oh I'm in!"

"You can come as one of our plus ones" Pierre said, eyes shifting over to Charles's face which was the same colour as his bright red Ferrari suit. Charles wanted to punch and hug Pierre at the same time, clearly seeing what he was trying to do. "Yeah, okay I'll be there" "Great! See you then, bye for now. Go celebrate with your man"

"your man"

Why did that sound so right? Why did it make your heart burst with happiness? Why did you want him to be your man? And why did it seem like the one thing you wanted the most was the one thing you couldn't have.

-------------------------------------------------------

Looking at the mirror one last time, you smoothed out the silky material of the red satin dress you had decided to wear to the party. Paired with a black choker necklace, and a pair of sleek black heels to finish the outfit. You had gone bold with the makeup, winged liner and smoky eyeshadow. Finally, you had swiped a tube of ruby red lipstick across your lips, and sprayed some more -expensive -than -you -could -even -begin- to -fathom Gucci perfume that Charles had bought you for your birthday on your wrists, neck, ears, and body.

You didn't know what you were doing. But it felt good to be confident. It felt good to pretend as though you were completely in control, when all you wanted was to curl up in a little ball, and cry. You didn't know what you were doing, but it felt good to pretend as though you didn't care for Charles, when all you wanted to do was grab his stupidly handsome face and kiss his wonderfully soft, pink lips.

Shaking off your anxiety, you reached for the phone to call Pierre, who was supposed to pick you up and drive you to the party. Charles had wanted too, but he had to go and meet some friends who wanted to congratulate on his victory. Taking a deep breath, you picked up your black clutch, which had your phone, lipstick, tissues and your keys, just in time to hear a knock on the door. Walking over to the door of your Monaco apartment, you opened it to find Pierre, in a lovely light blue suit, hair slicked slightly with gel, and a Rolex on his wrist. As he looked at you, his eyes widened, and he looked at you in shock for a few seconds, before saying "You look absolutely stunning, princess. Absolutely gorgeous" "Thank you Pierre ! You're looking pretty dapper yourself, I must say" you replied, flashing him a smile. "Thank you Y/N/N. Someone won't be able to keep his eyes off of you" he said, smirking as he saw your eyes widen softly, as you grew visibly flustered. "Who?" You asked, suddenly interested in looking at the clutch in your hand. "Oh come on, Leonardo DiCaprio. Who do you think ?!'

"I don't know, Pierre. Why don't you tell me?"

"Ces deux idiots, Charles, you sweet dumbass!"

"Yeah right. Let's just go please, we are already late, and I don't want to be out for too long"

"Fine"

-------------------------------------------------------The party was extravagant. There were these model chicks everywhere, with the most minimal of clothing, drooling over whichever driver they could find. Charles had had this one blonde girl hit on him for nearly an hour, and he was nearing the end of his patience. He didn't want any random girl for a one night stand. He wanted Y/N. And she wasn't at the party yet. But God, he couldn't stop thinking about her. He couldn't stop thinking about the moment they had shared. They had almost kissed. His heart did little jumps whenever he thought about it, and GOD, he was not doing a good job at hiding it. Everyone in the room had noticed the lovestruck look on his face. From across the room, George and Alex made their way over the Monégasque driver, who looked lost, and slightly irritated.

"Hey man, good job today! That was an excellent race" "Thanks, you guys did brilliantly as well"

"So who's got you looking like a little lost puppy?" George asked, grinning at the man, who looked slightly flustered at his comment. "What? No one, just post race excitement I suppose?"

"I'm not taking your word for it. Who's the girl? Come on"

Just as Charles opened his mouth to speak, there was a slight distraction, as he turned towards the door on the left, where people kept coming and going, and his jaw dropped. It was Y/N. But she looked like an angel that had fallen from the heavens, and sent to bless his heart. As he watched her make her way across the room, with Pierre right behind her, he felt his mouth and throat become dry, and his heart felt like it was going to fail at any moment. His palms were becoming sweaty and he felt like a nervous wreck, ready to collapse at any moment.

"Wow, mate. Is that Y/N ? She looks stunning!" Alex said, smiling as he watched her make her way towards their little group. "Yeah it is mate. She looks absolutely gorgeous!" George said, waving to the woman as she neared them. Charles couldn't speak.He just stared. "When you've put your eyes back in your head, and closed your mouth, you could maybe compliment her, and finally ask her out." Alex said, noticing how his friend had become silent and kept opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish.

Laughing, George clapped Charles on the back, "Ah, so she's the one that's got you all lovey dovey. Good going mate, she's a beauty" As he finished speaking, Y/N had approached the group, and was saying hello to Alex. Leaning forward, George gave her a hug as well, having become acquainted with her through Pierre. "Y/N you look beautiful. Absolutely gorgeous" he said, smiling at her, "Thank you so much! You guys all look lovely too!"

'You're too kind Y/N, George looks like he hasn't even brushed his hair back properly" Alex joked, receiving a slight shove from the Brit. "And, Charles, what do you think? How do I look this fine evening?" you asked, turning to face him. His face was slightly flushed and he mumbled something that sounded like "mimblewimble" and then cleared his throat. "You look prettier than anyone here tonight. You look like an angel"

Completely awestruck at his words, all you could do was gape, and then mutter a soft thank you, and pray to God he couldn't feel the nerves radiating off of you. "Well, despite the lovely company, and palpable sexual tension, I'm going to go find Max and Daniel, and go get a drink" Alex said, giving Y/N a hug and leaving with George. Leaving you alone with a very flustered Charles. "Do you want to get out of here?' he asked suddenly, looking at you with his warm hazel brown eyes. "I just got here, but yes please. I already feel so out of place among these models and superstars" you said, giggling softly. "Well, they've got nothing on you. Trust me, you're fifteen times prettier than anyone else here"

"Thank you Charles" you said, smiling softly, and touching his arm. "Anytime,tesoro" there it was again, that nickname that had your heart jumping. The last time he had called you that you guys had almost kissed. The memory returned, filling your tummy with butterflies, and all you wanted to do was to grab his stupidly handsome face and kiss him. The two of you made your way down to the docks, where you had a special spot that was like a hidden cave, covered with some wildflowers and ivy, that you two had discovered when you guys were fifteen, and you had had a bad day at school. Charles had hugged you, and told you, "no matter how bad a day at school is, I will always be there to hug you and make you feel better, always" That was when you had fallen in love with him.

As you made your way to the cave, you shivered, the sea air that was blowing around was surprisingly chilly, and you had forgotten to bring a jacket. Being the gentleman that he was, Charles took of his dark blue suit jacket, and draped it around your soldiers. 'Can't have you freezing to death" "I won't" you replied, regretting your decision to wear heels. As the two of you reached the cave, you sat down on the floor, and pulled off your heels, and stretched your legs out, letting out a sigh as you did so. Smiling at your actions, Charles sat down next to you, his thigh brushing against yours, arm wrapping around your waist, as your head dropped onto his shoulder.Beneath you two, the water lapped gently against the rocks, and the soft sound was calming and soothing.

For a while, you stayed that way, you tracing random patterns onto his left hand, while his right arm that was wrapped around your waist traced circles on your waist. His head was resting on top of yours now, and in the chilly air, the warmth radiating off of his body was comforting. "Y/N, do you like Pierre?" he blurted out suddenly, making you look up at him in shock. "What makes you think that?' you asked, leaning slightly away from his body to look at his face properly. "Well, I just assumed, I guess, you do seem very very comfortable and happy around him" "Oh my god, you idiot" you said, giggling softly at the slight look of jealousy on his face. "Pierre was right"

"What was he right about ?"

"Nothing"

"Look I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from its just that I love you and -"

You cut him off, pressing your lips to his, as his arms wrapped around your torso, after initial surprise. Yours made his way to his shoulders, one on his shoulder, and the other to the back of his head, while his grip around your body tightened. You two fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, bodies moulding into each other, lips fitting like two puzzle pieces together. This was what you had been missing from your life. This passionate, romantic, breath taking love, one that made your heart go 200 miles an hour and then stop.

Charles couldn't believe what was happening. He was kissing Y/N, and it felt so right. She was intoxicating, the scent of her perfume was clouding his senses in the best way possible, filling him with a new need, a hunger that had been growing for so long was finally being satiated, and it was electrifying. He slid his hands up her back, to tangle his fingers in her hair, pulling ever so slightly, and revelling in the sound that left her lips.

Finally breaking away, panting and out of breath, he rested his forehead on hers. "je t'aime mon amour" he mumbled, eyelids fluttering shut. "I love you too. So much" Completely blissed out, the two remained in their embrace, neither of them wanting to break apart, from what felt like a dream. "Did you just kiss me, or am I dreaming" He asked, looking down at Y/N who had her head on his shoulder again.

"Why don't you kiss me again and find out ?"

"Of course, mon amour"

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#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 #pierre gasly #imthebadguyyfics #imthebadguyyyfics

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matsbarzal · 3 years ago

Note

Could I request fluff #6 with Jack Hughes?

fluff #6. "you've been my best friend for 10 years, why not change it to husband and wife?"

pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader word count: 1.4k

It was always easy to love him. It was easy to love the friendship he initiated all those years ago, and it was even easier to admit your love bore a little deeper when he admitted his feelings were more than friendly about you. A decade long friendship had blossomed into something more, and it was something neither you, nor Jack had any arguments against.

Jack always brought up your ‘friendiversary’, and you couldn’t help but get a laugh out of the pure joy he always bestowed on you every time he mentioned it. The new kid in school accidentally exploding his yogurt tube all over his desk partner was probably one of the funnier ways to begin a lifelong friendship that would eventually blossom into more.

“So, how are we celebrating a whole decade together this year? Should we go get frozen yogurt? Maybe we can make a re-enactment of what happened in middle school? We could make it a whole thing, make a tiktok about it and everything,” you could feel your eyes rolling involuntarily at his words, shooting Jack a glare from across the room.

“We’re not doing anything that involves yogurt.”

“Not even something sexy?” Wigging his eyebrows at you, your hand immediately reached for the pillow beside you to whip at your boyfriend.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Lil’ Jizzy,” groaning at your words, Jack plopped himself on the couch beside you, instantly pulling you into his side.

Shrugging his shoulders at you, you could see him googling friendiversary ideas out of the corner of your eye. “Babe, we don’t even have to do anything. We could cuddle up and order food and just watch a movie or something, it doesn’t have to be anything special.”

“It’s our ten-year friendiversary, baby. We can’t just do nothing. I’ll figure something out, don’t worry. You’ll love it.”

It would be hard to admit that a trip to Florida in the middle of the season was what you were expecting from Jack. He had practically thrust the tickets into your hand, informing you that you had less than three hours to pack, all while giving you a list of the specific outfits he wanted you to bring.

You knew almost immediately that Jack had definitely not planned the celebration alone, just by the Airbnb that you pulled up in front of. First, you didn’t even realize he knew what an Airbnb was. Second of all, there was no way Jack Hughes had managed to find a place this gorgeous on his own.

Shooting a message to P.K. was your first priority, knowing full well he was the likely culprit behind the gorgeous booking in front of you.

“Okay, so I have a full itinerary. Tonight, we’re just going to chill, relax, get situated, maybe break the house in, you know… the usual stuff,” ending his sentence off with a wink, Jack grabbed your hand and pulled you along behind him.

“Tomorrow we’re going to head out to the marina that I don’t know the exact name of but will figure out and we’re gonna spend most of the day on the water, and then dinner… obviously. Sunday, you have to plan. I’ll pay… but you have to plan.”

Giggling into his ear as you pressed your body closer to his to press a gentle kiss on the nape of his neck, Jack tilted his head to the side with a small grin plastered across his lips.

“Sounds like the perfect weekend, baby. I think we should probably get started on your plans for today.” The grin never left his lips as he whipped around to press them to yours, his body moulding against yours easily.

The next day came quicker than you were expecting, Jack picking out your outfit as you picked his. That was something you both just found easier; there was no one else you would ever let pick your outfit, Jack just… knew you. He knew your style, knew what you did and didn’t like, knew what would fly and what wouldn’t. Small things like that with him were easy, everything was easy when it came to him.

“Well, don’t you look sexy. Damn, I’m so good at picking your fits. Should I quit hockey, maybe get into fashion? You could be my main model, baby.” Laughing as he wrapped you up in his arms with a smile, his happiness infectious.

Shaking your head against his chest, you peaked up at him from between his arms. “I don’t think you should quit your day job, maybe get some pointers before you start making drastic decisions like that. Can’t use you as my future trophy husband if you’re going to up and quit the job that makes you that.”

Pinching your side gently, Jack just smiled as he pulled away and interlocked his fingers with his.

It didn’t take you long to get to the marina in the car he had rented, everyone greeting the both of you politely as they directed you towards the boat Jack had rented for the day. You almost stopped in your tracks when you observed the setup on the boat; a picnic basket set up, non-alcoholic champagne on ice, fairy lights adorning the inside edges of the boat.

“Damn, I didn’t read the fine print when I booked. Just said I wanted the closest setup to an anniversary they could get, guess they went all out,” popping his hip into yours gently with a beam.

“Jack, do you even have your boating license?”

Eyeing the steering wheel with a curious look, you turned towards your boyfriend just in time to see him roll his eyes and glare at you playfully. “No, this place just let a random guy with no boating license rent a boat. Obviously, I have my boating license.”

Rolling your eyes back, you tapped his side as you made your way to the small seat next to the drivers. It only took a few moments to get out from the dock, far enough away that you and Jack could have some privacy without being too far and worrying how you were going to get back.

“Do you remember the first day we met? Other than when I accidentally exploded my yogurt tube all over you? You told me that boys were icky, and all they did was ruin everything,” nodding your head with a loud laugh, you let your mind wander to your first few years with Jack.

“Crazy how things have changed, huh? I remember going home that night and telling my mom I needed to get those stupid yogurt tubes so I could hit them against the desk and do what you did to me, she said no real quick.”

Smiling softly towards you, you could see the love in his eyes the way he looked at you, the softness that crossed his features every time you were on his mind or in his sight. It had been the same look he had given you since you both were fifteen, Jack never having eyes for anyone except you.

Standing up and holding his hand out, you took it and allowed him to pull you from your seat and towards the picnic basket and bottle of champagne.

“It always makes me laugh; I told my mom back when I first moved from Sauga to Michigan that I wasn’t sure how I was going to live without you. She said you’d always be there, even if you weren’t physically there. Pretty sure that was when I realized you were more than just a friend to me, then I moved and wasn’t sure what’d happen. Never really thought we’d get here, honestly.”

Sighing as he sat down, Jack gestured for you to sit in his lap, both of your legs extended out in front of you as he ruffled through the picnic basket beside him.

“I say it a lot, but I’m so glad you sprayed that yogurt all over me. It sucked, but I don’t think we’d be where we are without it,” nodding his head gently as he rested his cheek on the top of your head.

“You know, you’ve been my best friend for ten years, why not just change it to husband and wife?”

Swivelling around to look at him, you almost cried when you saw the little black box in his hand, his eyes glistening at he looked at you. Moving so he was directly on one knee and not sitting, your hands instantly pressed to your mouth.

“I’ve had this thing sitting around since my first season. So, I guess what I’m trying to say here is… I’ve been so grateful for your friendship and your unconditional love these last ten years, so how about we make it forever? Will you marry me?”

You couldn’t contain your body flying towards him, the aggressive nod of your head the only answer he needed.

note: so sorry that this is so late, but i hope you enjoy!! thank you so much for requesting. and yes i did steal mitch marner's proposal idea for this thank u very much simply bc i have reason to believe jack would too

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theirbbygirl · 3 years ago

Text

Second Lead Syndrome

Word Count: ~8.7k words

liked this? there’s more on my masterlist!

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Comedy, Female reader insert

Description: Y/n and Minho have been friends for more than 2 years now, but suddenly she begins to see herself as the mere second lead in Minho’s story. Will she be the rare second lead who gets her own happy ending?

Warnings: some crying, themes of unrequited love (if there’s anything that I missed don’t hesitated to let me know!)

I’d only ever encountered Second Lead Syndrome in the dramas I’d watched. Wanting the girl to end up with the second lead who was so obviously the better and healthier choice, but like every avid watcher of kdramas, it's more than likely for the main leads to end up with each other, that was just how it worked. What I never thought I’d encounter was seeing it happen before my own eyes and experience it firsthand.

Life was never supposed to be a kdrama. Life was supposed to be simple, a straight line, going from point A to B with no complications. But life never really went my way did it? It just had to throw in one variable, one man that had too much influence on my life.

I couldn’t remember the first time I met Minho. It was probably sometime in the first grade when his family first moved in next to mine. But alas, we were both too young to remember exactly what sparked our friendship. One day we were strangers and the next we had given our parents a near heart attack when we both went after a stray cat on the way back home (my mom’s words, not ours). From then my memories were filled with him, just us besties hanging out like anyone would with their best friend. First party, first mental breakdown, first drink, all with him. Soon enough we were in our final year of University, and ultimately, adults.

The Minho I knew was laid back, not too extroverted but not too introverted either. While I completely contrasted him, always anxious about something, wanting perfection to the T, and completely and utterly introverted. Our friendship, moving into University, sparked a lot of questions. You wouldn’t typically find the introverted straight-A student with the borderline badboy tsundere walking and laughing in the halls together, spending practically every waking moment together. But Minho didn’t care, and neither did I, so we moved through life pretty easily.

One of the few things we had in common was our love for cats, and when we both foudn out there was a cat cafe just a few minutes walk from our campus, you best bet we spent too much of our time and money there. Studying, hanging out, anything you could imagine. If we weren’t in one of our dorms, we were more than likely to be in the cat cafe.

Every day after class we’d go there and we’d complain about our least favorite professors and how lectures would seemingly last for longer than they should. Additionally, Minho had almost become akin to my own dormmate with how much time he spent in my dorm. He’d come in whenever he wished, stealing my frozen pizzas and sodas, using my Netflix account on my TV to watch weird National Geographic shows and make random comments like “that snake looks just like Kim Seungmin,” or “look its Hannie” whenever a squirrel came on screen. Minho was always there when I needed a drinking partner after bombing a test or assignment, pouring me shots of soju until I passed out and bringing me to my bed and tucking me in whiel he would sleep on the couch to make sure I wouldn’t do anything stupid in the middle of the night.

Although, more people knew Minho’s name than mine, but that didn’t bother any of us. We continued on being friends as usual, and it felt like nothing would change that. Life was moving in a straight line like it should’ve always been.

At least, that’s what it felt like until February, just a few months before we graduated.

I make my way to our usual spot in the courtyard after buying an iced coffee and a snickers bar from the vending machine next to my classroom, I walk up behind Minho sitting on a bench when I find him staring out in front of him instead of looking at cat videos on his phone like he usually does. Slowing my walk, I trail my eyes to the vague direction he’s facing and see that he’s looking at Kim Seungmin and a girl chatting outside the classroom. I ignore the thought, opting to think that Minho must’ve spaced out thinking about how he would irritate Seungmin next class. I plop down next to him when he still doesn’t take note of my arrival, so I get right next to his ear and blow cold air into it, snickering when he jolts in surprise.

“What was that for?” He whines, fake annoyed.

“You got lost up in your thoughts for a certain Kim Seungmin there.” I snicker some more, opening my snickers (hehe) bar.

Just as I’m about to take the first bite of the sugary goodness, the chocolate bar gets snatched out of my hands and a certain Lee Minho takes an obnoxious bite out of it, not even giving it back but eating it like it was his. I pout, watching him devour my snack, knowing that I couldn’t do anything to get it back.

“For your information, I was not thinking about Kim Seungmin.” He says pointedly, slightly muffled by the chocolate in his mouth.

I sigh, knowing I wasn’t going to get that chocolate bar back any time soon, and open my iced coffee. “So what were you thinking about then?” I ask before taking a sip.

“Don’t know, spaced out.” Is all the answer I get and I highly doubt him, but I brush it off anyways and don’t pry.

Minho and I slide into our usual conversation about assignments, plans for the week, and everything under the sun. We talk about how he’s planning to visit home the next day and stay for a weekend and how excited he is to see his cats after a long time, I unknowingly smile at his ramble about how talkative Dori is, and just sit back and listen. I never took into account how healing it was to just watch and listen to him talk, the sultry of his voice and his little exclamations of frustration or excitement that came once in a while. I had to catch myself from staring when he turned to look at me, having asked me a question I didn’t catch.

“Sorry what was that?” I ask.

“Am I that beautiful for you to have lost your hearing to my handsome face?” I couldn’t just tell him that that was basically what had happened, it would inflate his ego by too much and reveal everything I’d hidden thus far.

“The heck? No, I was thinking about how great it would be to get some peace and quiet while you’re not around this weekend.” I lie, having Minho around is the only thing that brings me entertainment that isn’t endless sappy kdramas on my laptop, but he can never know that.

Minho scoffs, says something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, then turns back to me. “You love me.” He says with a pout.

“Unfortunately I do.”

That was the first of many inconspicuous confessions.

It was nearing 3 or 4 am and I was about halfway done with another kdrama when several knocks resound through the small living space. Knowing exactly who it is, I only shout back “you know the code!” and moments later the door opens.

I don’t bother to get up and greet Minho, this exact scene has happened too many times for either of us to care at this point, and it doesn’t surprise me that the moment he enters he shouts, “Honey I’m home!” like we’re in some cheesy romcom.

“Mhmm, welcome home, leech.” I enunciate the last word purposely, but I know he won’t bat an eye at the term. I continue to chew my popcorn while he wanders through my cabinets, looking for snacks. “There’s chips in the cabinet next to the fridge and sprite in there too. If you want more food order Chinese takeout.”

“I don’t have my wallet.” I can practically hear his pout from where I sat, eyes unmoving from the TV screen.

“You know where mine is, but you have to pay me back.” A few seconds pass with no response until suddenly he’s next to me and kissing my cheek.

“I loveeee you!” He says too sweetly, retreating back to the mini-kitchen to order takeout.

“Mhmm, I love you too.” I say, not loud enough for him to hear the confidence missing from my tone.

Continuing to watch the episode of in front of me, I remain in my comfortable position, only moving to lift my legs when Minho comes back to sit on the couch under my legs and the blanket.

“Oh you’re watching this one?” He asks, reaching into the bowl of popcorn I offer him.

“Yeah, didn’t have anything else to watch so I put it on since everyone seems to like it so much.”

“Mm,” he hums while also indulging himself into the scenes playing in front of him. “You’re probably team potato guy, right?”

“What kind of question is that? Of course I am!” I scoff.

“I don’t know, I still think she should end up with Jae-eon.”

“Are you crazy? He literally leads her on like every playboy and is ruining her mentality by not defining their relationship.”

“Yeah, but they’re so cute together, and you can totally tell he feels something for her.” He argues.

“Just cause they’re cute together doesn’t mean they’re good for each other, the entire guy is a walking red flag, I don’t understand why she doesn’t just walk away when she’s had experience with a shit boyfriend.” I sigh.

“You, have major second lead syndrome.” He points an accusing finger at me.

“So what? It’s for good reason, the main lead is toxic as fuck and you can’t change my mind.” I upturn my nose, turning back to the TV and continuing to watch the episode.

The mentioning of the second lead sends a flurry of thoughts into my brain for a reason I can’t comprehend. Sometimes the main leads aren’t that bad but still we want the main character to end up with the second lead, maybe out of our own natural selfishness because we prefer the second lead more. I shake the thoughts away, trying to convince myself that kdramas were only works of fiction and too cheesy to be real, yet for whatever reason I always felt a connection with the second leads, like our emotions directed to our crushes were the same, because I knew that I would always be the second lead in Minho’s story.

Minho’s name was always called out more times than mine was growing up, which I didn’t really mind until our hangout time would be seriously cut down because he had to hang out with other friends. Don’t get me wrong, I loved that he had friends, but there was a little bit of selfishness in me that wanted him to myself.

A new drama and a few episodes later, plus Chinese takeout, lead to our eventual demise. We both fall asleep on the couch in less than comfortable positions and wake up with stiff-neck, us groaning at the pain.

We continue on with our usual morning routines, taking turns freshening up in the bathroom before heading out for breakfast at Paws and Pastries since we were both too lazy to make food ourselves. Besides, hot coffee in the morning plus good sandwiches AND cats? What more could you ask for?

When we enter the cat cafe I notice a familiar face behind the cashier, it was the same girl Seungmin was talking to on Friday, and the same girl I caught Minho staring at. We walk up to the cashier, I order my food first, a simple breakfast sandwich with a coffee to go with it and wait next to Minho to finish ordering.

I made the mistake up glancing up at his face as he was telling his order to her, Ahra, her name tag read. There was something in his eyes that glinted that I had never seen before, not when he talked to Han and not when he talked to me. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of emotion in the middle of my chest before forcing myself to look back down, inserting my card and paying for everything. I sent the girl a thank you and a kind smile after she told us our food would be right over, and both me and Minho went over to our usual table in the back corner next to the cat’s jungle gym and right up next to the window. I get lost in my thoughts while we begin playing with the cats we were so accustomed to.

Like most second leads, I knew exactly what my feelings were. I was practically an adult, how could I miss the fast beating of my heart or my clammy hands whenever I was around him? But again, like most second leads, I knew I’d never get a chance with him, not when everything we did together was purely platonic. It was painfully obvious that I’d be stuck with an unrequited love for who knows how long, and I couldn’t just detach myself from him all of a sudden to get over my feelings because a) he’d notice and force me to tell him what was wrong, ultimately leading me to tell him that I had feelings for him, and b) the moment I would come back or see him for even just a second I know I would develop those feelings all over again. Neither of which were choices I was willing to take so I suck it up and see him every day, ignoring everything my heart was telling me.

I look up from the cat that I’m petting in my lap and look at Minho again, only to find him staring at Ahra who was taking people’s orders with a perfect pearly smile. It was in that moment that I knew, I had just found the female lead of Minho’s story.

3 weeks go by in a similar manner. Minho and I see Ahra around campus a few times and with some twisted fate, she’s on the clock every time we go to Paws and Pastries. Minho, being his smooth self, easily gets himself acquainted with her. They laugh and giggle so naturally and can slip into conversation so easily I’m almost envious of Minho and his non-introverted self.

Not being one to try and stop fate, I watch it all happen. Telling Minho to ask her out already and teasing him about how lovesick he gets when he sees her nearby or at the cafe. I know Minho likes her when he blushes or gets defensive whenever I mention her in our conversations even though he’s never explicitly told me himself. I put on a face in front of him whenever these conversations come up, not wanting to get in the way of his happiness.

One day some of our friends want to meet up outside of campus, we make plans to meet up at a bowling alley, ready to have fun until the late evening hours. Seungmin brought Ahra along with him, asking if it was okay to invite her since they were friends. Everyone agrees and we all meet up as planned. When everyone gets there, including Seungmin and Ahra, we introduce ourselves, Minho not having to introduce himself and easily speaking with her like they always did whenever running into each other. All the the boys have raised brows and mischievous smiles as they watch the interaction between the two, but only one looks at me in concern.

A majority of the night passes by with laughter and teasing, how Chan was terrible at bowling this night and Minho easily beating him despite never doing too well on our previous adventures to the bowling alley. I spend the night with the rest of the boys, while Minho and Ahra spend time getting to know each other even more. There’s a point in the evening where I see Minho hold out his phone to Ahra to exchange numbers, I can hear her giggle when they take a selfie together, probably for her profile picture. I have to turn my head away quickly to ignore the cracking of my own heart when Minho puts his arm on the couch behind Ahra, he does it so naturally, yet he’s never done it with me. I will my thoughts to focus on the game and not on Minho, not noticing the same pair of concerned eyes until they speak up.

“Are you alright?” Hyunjin asks.

“Hm? Of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?” My voice cracks halfway through and I try to hide my sad eyes, even though I was fully aware that Hyunjin had probably noticed that something was up.

“‘Cause you seem pretty affected by that scene over there.” He motions to Minho and Ahra with a nod of his head.

“It’s nothing, Hyun, just nice seeing Minho talking to more people.”

“Y/n, you know he talks to people all the time, and you’re not nearly as affected then as you are now.”

“Hyunjin, really, it’s fine.” I try to convince him but he says something that lets me know that he knows.

“You like Minho.”

“What? No that’s absurd I-“ He looks at me pointedly, and I sigh in defeat. “Yeah, okay, you got me.”

“Why don’t you say anything? Clearly it hurts you to see him like that.” He refers to Minho getting cozy with her.

“Hyunjin, it’s clear that everything we have is platonic, he even called me his sister several times. And who am I to get in the way of him getting into a relationship? That’s not my place to say anything, especially when his last girlfriend was 2 years ago.”

“I get that, but shouldn’t he at least deserve to know? He says that he knows everything about you, but there’s one thing that he doesn't. You know practically everything about him, isn’t it a little unfair?”

“We have choices as to what we share with each other and what we don’t, it’s his choice to tell me what he wants to and my choice to tell him what I want to tell him. Besides, he hasn’t even told me that he has a crush on Ahra yet.”

“So maybe he doesn’t then.”

“Hyunjin, just look at him, he’s a puppy in love.” I glance back over to Minho and Ahra sitting parallel to us. Minho is smiling brightly, more brightly than I had seen in a while and I can’t help but let my lips upturn at the corners just slightly in another sad smile.

Hyunjin sighs next to me, and I look back to him. “I’m sorry y/n, I really wish he would end up with you instead of her, it doesn’t seem fair to you.”

“Hey, don’t say that, Ahra seems like a nice girl, she and Minho will get along great. And nothing in life is fair Hyunjin, that’s just something you come to accept.” I say, getting up. “I’m gonna get some drinks, does anyone want anything?” I ask everyone.

“Cola!” “Me too!” “Me three!” “A lemonade please.” A few of the boys shout back.

“Anything for you guys?” I turn to Minho and Ahra. They both shake their heads. “Okay then, I’ll be back in a minute guys.” I smile at the group before going to get the drinks.

While walking away from the group I let a teardrop fall from my eye, wiping it away just before I order.

Life’s unfair, that’s just something I have to accept.

A week goes by and Minho’s talking about how he and Ahra message often, how he thinks they get along well and he’s gonna ask her out.

Another week goes by and they’ve gone on their first date, he takes her to the beach and they have a picnic.

Two weeks after that they’ve gone on several dates and are officially boyfriend and girlfriend, I don’t even find out separately at this point, I find out with the rest of the group over dinner.

A few days after that Minho calls off one of our late night binge watching sessions, texting me an apology and that Ahra needs him. I tell him it’s okay and to send my regards to her.

It’s a week and half after and Minho regularly calls off our meetups at the cafe after school or at one another’s dorms to tend to Ahra. I tell him it’s fine each time and to not feel bad. He did the same today, and I sit alone at our usual table, mindlessly petting a cat in my lap while zoning out into in my mug of coffee.

All while this happens, I watch, and I let it happen. I don’t fight for him because it didn’t feel right, sometimes second leads let their love fall for someone else, and that’s all it felt like I could do.

Fighting for Minho felt selfish, especially when I knew I had no chance and he’d already fallen for Ahra. I couldn’t suddenly come out of the blue and tell him “hey, I have feelings for you,” when he’s already dating Ahra, I’d look like a major asshole if I did. All I could do was watch and see how we begun to drift farther and farther apart.

With Minho being absent more often, I don’t get to tell him much. Like the internship offer I got to continue pursuing graphic design in Itaewon. I got the email almost a week ago, and I had two more weeks to decide if I was going to take the offer. With nobody to consult about it with I continue to push it to the back of my mind, not wanting to deal with more stress just yet.

Just as I’m taking another sip of my coffee a familiar head of long blonde hair enters the cafe. My head tilts to the side in confusion as he scans the room for someone when he meets eyes with me, he makes his way over and sits in the seat in front of me and doesn’t say anything.

“You’re rarely on this side of town, why are you here?” I ask Hyunjin first.

“I heard something from Ms. Kim in our art class and needed to know if it was true.” He says seriously.

“What…” I feel like I know what he’s going to say, but I ask anyways. “What did you hear?”

“That you were offered an internship in Itaewon.”

“Hyunjin I-“

“Is it really true? She said you had two more weeks to decide, how come you haven’t told anybody? Does Minho know? Are you gonna leave? What about-” He begins to spurt out question after question and it’s almost too much for me to handle.

“Hyunjin!” I raise my voice just slightly to get him to stop but I have to turn it down again when the volume of my voice makes a few of the other customers’ heads turn. “Calm down, yes it’s true, yes I have two more weeks to decide if I’m going or not, I didn’t know how I would tell any of you, no, Minho doesn’t know and I don’t plan on telling him.”

“Are you… Are you gonna take the offer?” He asks slowly.

I prop my elbows onto the table as the cat leaves my lap and my head drops into my hands as I sigh in exasperation. “I don’t know.” Tears are gathering in my eyes as I think about it.

“Y/n, have you thought about the offer at all?”

“Yes and no.” I don’t need to lift my head to sense Hyunjin’s confusion. “It’s hard to think about it when you’re watching your crush of 2 years date someone else while you’re also trying to finish up your senior year. But it’s also all I can think about when I’m alone, which I find myself a lot, thinking about having to find a place to live in Itaewon and transfer and mentally prepare to leave you all here, but if I don’t take it then it’ll be even harder to find an offer like this. It’s all I can think about and also something that I can’t bring myself to think about, Hyunjin.” I lift my head and my teary eyes meet his own.

“Y/n…” His voice breaks saying my name.

“I think I’m going to take it.” I pause. “Once I finish all of my final assignments the only thing I have left to really worry about is graduating and finding a job, and I don’t think I can take watching Minho and Ahra anymore Hyun, I don’t think I can stomach it. I’m happy for them, I truly am, but it’s also affecting me and I don’t think I should ignore that anymore. If I’m in Itaewon I have a job and I won’t have to worry about feelings anymore, two birds with one stone.”

I see the hesitancy in Hyunjin’s facial expressions before he speaks. “If that’s what you think you should do, then I’ll support you all the way. But shouldn’t you tell Minho about this?”

“I’m not, because if I do, Minho is gonna find some way to get me to stay and I’ll crumble and stay because he affects me the most.” Hyunjin merely nods in response. “Hyunjin, you are the only one that can know about this, okay? I can’t have everyone else know this, especially Minho, okay?”

Hesitation again, and then, “Okay.”

Hyunjin keeps his promise, he keeps the secret of me leaving from everyone. Even as graduation inches closer and our group begins to talk more about job searching, what comes next, and similar topics, the two of us keep it a secret. Whenever they asked me what I was thinking of doing next I always just told them “oh probably looking for internships nearby,” and no more questions are asked.

Minho and Ahra were still very much in love, even more than before, if the growing absence of Minho’s presence was anything to go by. I barely saw Minho anymore, maybe catching him at the end of the hall every once in awhile, but he was always walking with Ahra so all I could say was “hello” and “goodbye.”

Each goodbye begun to hold more and more weight as the days passed. Even the short ones I would tell Minho after passing him in the halls. I couldn’t even conjure how I would tell everyone, maybe send a letter to each of their places? A text message? Tell them after the graduation ceremony just before I left for the train station? I thought about how I would say goodbye as I begun to pack up my dorm. Graduation was nearing, I had already turned in all of my final assignments, and all there was left was to pack. I would leave after the ceremony ended, sometime in the afternoon. I wouldn’t even get the chance to properly celebrate being graduates with my friends because I was leaving in the afternoon. I’d get situated in my new apartment in Itaewon and get accustomed to new life outside of Gimpo.

The thought of leaving panged my heart harshly, I had never left Gimpo permanently before. Sure, I had gone on trips to the US and Singapore and Seoul before, but I had never moved from Gimpo. I was born and raised in Gimpo, met Minho and all of our friends here, so the thought of moving for the first time did something to my heart. I attended all of our group hangouts with a nostalgic mindset, remembering the first time we all met, when we all got wasted one time on a Friday night after some big exam week. I look around our table of friends and think about how much I’ll miss all of this when I leave for Itaewon.

Another thing that panged my heart, Minho and I distancing. I knew it was coming, Minho and I didn’t text or talk about hanging out anymore. He walked Ahra to her classes now, and had dates with her after class instead of meeting me at our cafe. Eventually I stopped getting apology messages, and stopped expecting him at the cafe anymore. I couldn’t blame him, Ahra was his girlfriend and I accepted that long ago. Instead I just played the supportive friend on the sidelines, and I’d continue to play that role for as long as I had to.

It came to be the night before we graduated, and all of us minus Minho and Ahra were sat around a table in one of the restaurants we frequented, it wasn’t too late in the evening, and we all just sat in silence after finishing our food with bottles and glasses of soju now sitting in front of us. A majority of our meal was full of reminiscing, talking about memories that crack everyone up and left smiles on our faces.

“So, we really graduate tomorrow, huh?” Changbin says when the table quiets down.

“Yeah, I guess we do.” Chan says quietly.

My eyes tear up and I begin to sniff without control, the weight of my department tomorrow weighing heavily on my shoulders. Hyunjin puts an arm around my shoulders and gives me a tissue, whispering “it’s okay, it’s okay” to me while I try to calm down.

Everyone looks at me in confusion before Chan speaks first. “Y/n are you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, I just…” I trail off, not sure what to say.

“Do you want to tell them?” Hyunjin asks softly.

“Tell us what?” Seungmin says this time.

Hyunjin looks to me first before nodding, and I begin to spill my secret. “I got an internship offer.”

The table erupts in cheers and I get congratulations thrown back at me before I can even continue.

“But…” Immediately everyone silences and looks to me in expectation. “It’s in Itaewon.”

There’s a tense air that falls around us. “What?” Felix says in disbelief.

“You’re not leaving us, right Noona?” Jeongin asks from another part of the table.

I look to Jeongin with sad eyes, smiling sadly. “I leave tomorrow, after our graduation ceremony.” There’s some gasps around the table.

“What?! Y/n, why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Changbin blows up and Chan has to place a hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

“I didn’t want every time we met leading up to graduation to feel like a goodbye, Bin, I couldn’t handle that. So I kept it from you all so there wasn’t this tension every time we met.” I explained.

“Does Minho know?” Seungmin asks this time, and I shake my head.

“Y/n…” Han says worriedly.

“Guys, I know I’m not the only one that’s noticed that me and Minho aren’t that close anymore, so I haven’t really gotten the chance to tell him. But I told Hyunjin this a long time ago, that I wouldn’t tell Minho specifically, because there’s some things that I need to figure out and if I told him he’d find some way to keep me from going, or even worse, follow me. At least with Ahra by his side he won’t follow me to Itaewon.” There’s nods all around the table, understanding where I’m coming from.

“We’re gonna miss you a lot.” Felix sniffs and I coo, getting up from my seat to wrap my arms around him from behind.

“I’m gonna miss you all too.” I sniff with him, a few tears escaping my eyes.

Chan comes to join our hug, then Han, then Jeongin, and soon enough everyone has joined the group hug with me in the middle. All of us are crying, and I had never felt more loved than that moment.

Eventually we break away from the hug and return to our seats, everyone dabbing at their eyes with tissues and sniffing.

“Let’s all stop crying, tonight is a night to celebrate, all of us graduate tomorrow, and our dear Y/n got an internship offer in a big city!” Han holds up a drink and we all do the same, cheering and clinking our glasses together and celebrating the night away.

The next morning I get ready for graduation early, putting on my makeup and doing my hair, and sending a message.

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

hey, can you meet me at p&p in thirty?

My heart picks up the pace as I send the message, I didn’t expect him to answer so quickly yet his message pings my phone within 2 minutes.

from: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sure, i can be there

to: [cat dad who’s a leech :D]

sweet, i’ll see you there

I turn my phone off and take a deep breath, we still had a few hours before we had to be at the school for our graduation ceremony, I’d have to leave just a few minutes after the ceremony ended which wouldn’t give me enough time to tell Minho, so, I made the painful decision the night before to tell him in the morning. I’d do it in our favorite spot in the corner of our favorite cat cafe, tell him the news slowly and hope that he takes it well.

I leave my house and 15 minutes later I’m in our usual booth, my coffee order sitting in front of me and the cats all wandering around as there weren’t too many people since it was relatively early in the morning. I already bought Minho his typical Iced Americano and it sat in front of me, awaiting it’s owner.

10 minutes later Minho arrives and makes his way to the table, sitting in front of me, smiling, unknowing of what’s about to happen.

“Hey.” I smile at him.

“Hey you.” He smiles back brightly. “Sorry I couldn’t see you guys last night, I took Ahra out for dinner last night on a date.”

“It’s completely alright, how are you guys?”

“Pretty good, things are going okay right now.” He answers.

“That’s good.” Nervously I take a sip of my macchiato in front of me, my leg bouncing in anxiety.

“Y/n? Is everything alright? Your leg’s bouncing pretty fast right now.” Curse Minho and the fact that he knows so much about me, he reaches out for my wrist and checks my pulse, quickly noticing how fast it’s beating as his brows furrow in confusion.

“Minho, there’s something I need to tell you.” I say, retracting my wrist from his grip. He doesn’t answer me but instead tilts his head like a cat does when it looks at its owner questionably. ��I’m leaving.”

“What?” He asks.

How could one look so endearing, head tilted and eyes full of emotion as I break the news to him? I ask myself. “I got an internship offer for a company in Itaewon, I accepted it and I’m leaving for Itaewon, today.”

“You’re leaving today?” He says in disbelief, sounding out of breath.

I nod and continue. “After the graduation today I have to catch my bus. I didn’t have any other time to tell you so I had to tell you now.”

“You’re… You’re just telling me now? Do the others know about this?”

“I only told them last night.”

“You couldn’t have thought of telling me sooner?” He starts to get angry.

“Minho I-“

“What happened to telling me everything, huh? What happened to when we used to know everything about each other?”

“Minho, those days are long behind us, you have bigger priorities now, like putting your focus on your girlfriend, Minho. I couldn’t tell you because I knew you’d do something rash, and I didn’t even tell the others until last night because I knew every time we’d see each other it would be like preparing for the day I leave. You and Ahra have something so great going on for the two of you right now and telling you that I was leaving would take you away from that, and I can’t do that to you or her. Ahra is an amazing girl, and you have her now.”

“Will you at least visit?” His eyes are full of tears, some of the first I’ve seen in years and I hate that I’m the cause of it.

“I don’t know yet, there’s some things I need to figure out myself first, before I can visit. But at some point maybe I will, when I’ve figured things out I’ll try visiting from time to time.” I offer him a sad smile.

After a few moments of silence I get up from my seat.

“We still have a graduation left, Min, I’ll still see you then.” I ruffle his hair and walk out of the cafe, no more secrets but one weighing down on my chest.

The Graduation ceremony passes by in a blur. One moment we were listening to the speeches of each of the professors and the next we were tossing our caps into the air, cheering as we became alumni of our university.

Our friend group met up in the front of the school, taking pictures with our parents and congratulating each other. Eventually, the time comes and I have to go.

Our group stands in a circle, unmoving, as we all look at each other.

“I’m gonna miss all of you so much.” I say in tears as my voice breaks.

“We’re gonna miss you too, Y/n.” Hyunjin says. At his words everyone gathers into a group hug full of tears and the weight of a goodbye on our shoulders.

“You better promise to visit us, okay?” Felix holds me by the shoulders and makes a point to look me in the eye. Not trusting my voice, I nod and he brings me into one more hug.

I hug each of them individually, saying a few words, before I reach the last person.

I hug Minho and look into his eyes for the last time for a while.

“I’ll miss you.” He whispers.

“Me too.” And that’s all I can say.

I leave the campus for the last time, hopping in my car to head to the station and start anew.

Second leads always leave in the end, they leave and let the two main leads have a happy ending. That’s what it felt like I was doing, and I couldn’t tell if I was content with my choice or not.

Two and a half months in Itaewon passes quickly.

The move into my new apartment was smooth, and it was odd to be in a bigger space than a small dorm room. It felt like I had more space than I knew what to do with.

My internship was moving along smoothly as well, everyone I had met so far were really kind and taught me a lot. I was worried about feeling out of place but I had met a few other girls not much older than me who helped me feel at home.

Being alone in a big city was unnerving, but what made it so much more comfortable was the addition of a cat that my parents had bought me as my graduation gift. She was a chartreux cat who I named Luna because I had always dreamed of naming my first cat that. My parents covered most of the costs of basic things like cat toys, a scratch post, her bed, and similar things. I thanked my parents endlessly when they came over to my apartment a week after I had moved in and gave me Luna. I wasn’t gone for too long during the day and always left food for her, she was great company when I came home and worked on projects late into the evening, curling up into my lap like the cats at the old cafe used to. She was my best friend in a city I was still getting accustomed to.

I hadn’t talked to the guys much, I’d talked with them a few times in the group chat about how their job searches were going and trips they were planning to take soon. It was nice talking with them every so often but all of us were still pretty busy moving onto the next chapter of our lives.

I hadn’t talked to Minho since I left, I’d assumed that he and Ahra were doing well, but that’s all that was, assumption. None of the boys talked about him and I couldn’t understand why, but I never asked since I was supposed to be moving on from my feelings in the first place. I thought I had been doing pretty well until something would come up that reminded me of him, like his favorite song would play in the cafe I bought my morning coffee in and spent my breaks at, or snapchat would send me “Today, 1 year ago” memories of him and me fooling around at Paws and Pastries. Whenever that would happen I’d be sent back to square one, and it felt like I’d never move on from Minho.

I was on my way out to grab a coffee and spend my off day walking around, maybe looking into a few shops when I got a call from Hyunjin.

“Y/n! My favorite girl, how are you?”

“Hyunjin? What’s with the call?”

“What? Can I not call my friends from time to time?”

“Not when you’re notorious for calling your ‘friends’ after you’ve done something wrong.” I sigh.

“That was one time! Besides, it wasn’t that bad.”

“You dragged Jeongin to a party! And got him wasted!”

“One. Time. Y/n. It was one time.”

“One time is enough for you to be in trouble for life, Hyun.”

“Okay, whatever, but I was meaning to ask you, what’re your plans for today?”

“Me? I was just planning to go out, today’s my day off so I was gonna visit this one cafe and see some shops, why?”

“No reason, what time do you think you’ll be home?”

“Maybe five?”

“Great, okay, I have to go now, Han’s calling me, bye!” Hyunjin hangs up before I can ask him what’s with the weird questions.

“Hyunjin- Oh great he hung up.” I put my phone in my pocket before looking down at Luna who’s stretching near my legs. “Your uncle Hyunjin is quite the odd one, isn’t he Luna, hm?” I ask her and she meows back in response. “Weird indeed, but that’s just how he is. Mommy’s gonna spend her day out and then she’ll come home and we can watch the TV together, okay? I’ll be home soon.” I pick up Luna and set her on her little bed before ensuring everything is safe and make my way out the door.

I spend the day eating at a large cat cafe that actually had an assortment of books with little reading areas while the cats roamed around everywhere. It was much bigger than the cafe in Gimpo, but I would always correlate that one with home.

After I spent a bit of time reading there I went out and explored the shops for a few hours, bought some new jeans and a few blouses plus some makeup things. I got Subway for lunch and explored just a little bit more before heading home. Instead of going straight home, I decided to take the long way, going through the streets not minding the extra weight the few shopping bags I was holding in my hands gave me. The sun was just barely beginning to set as I walked into my apartment complex, getting into the elevator and pressing the button for my floor.

I walk down the hallway to my door and am surprised when a familiar figure greets me there.

“Minho?” I say as I walk closer.

“Y/n!” He says happily, bringing me into a hug.

“What are you doing here? Actually- Wait- Don’t answer that, do you wanna come inside?” I ask him.

“Sure.” He responds.

I unlock the door and bring my bags in, setting them by the door. “Luna! Mommy’s home!” I call out automatically.

Luna meows and comes out of the bedroom, walking her way up to me before I pick her up.

“You got a cat?” Minho asks.

“Yeah, parents brought her to me about a week after I moved in.” I put Luna back down and she moves to sit on the arm of the couch, her favorite spot to sit when the sun goes down.

“And you named her Luna,” He smiles fondly. “You always wanted to name your cat Luna.”

“I’m surprised you remember that.” I chuckle. “Do you want some coffee?”

“Sure.”

“I’ll get that brewing, just give me a few minutes, you can take a seat on the couch and make yourself at home!” I tell him as I quickly retreat to the kitchen.

I have to take a few breaths when I’m far away enough from Minho, my heart beating just as fast as it would when I was around him back then. It was clear I hadn’t moved on at all.

I brew the coffee as promised and wait next to the coffee machine with two mugs ready. A voice chimes in behind me.

“Your place is much bigger than the dorms.” He chuckles.

“Tell me about it, it was so weird buying more furniture than I was used to.” I laugh with him.

The machine finishes brewing the coffee and I pour it into the two mugs, putting it on a tray with creamer and sugar before bringing it all to the coffee table in front of the couch.

Minho and I take seats on the couch, separated by a bit of space between us while we sip on our respective mugs.

“So,” I start the conversation. “How’s home?”

“Not too bad, same old same old, the guys being annoying as usual, you know?” He says.

“Sounds fun.” I chuckle. “And work, have you found anything yet?”

“Not yet, I’ve got a few applications out, but I’m still waiting on some answers.”

“I’m sure you’ll get them soon.” I respond.

An uncomfortable silence sets over the both of us, and I run my free hand through Luna’s fur who’s situated herself in my lap this time. I take a long sip of my coffee before asking another question.

“How’s… How are you and Ahra?”

“Oh…” He trails off. “We broke up a few weeks ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that…” I had no idea that he and Ahra had broken up, in fact that was the completely opposite of what I thought had happened since they seemed to work together so well.

“Yeah, it was a mutual thing. We didn’t really feel that kind of connection anymore, you know? So we just, broke it off.”

“Are you okay?” I ask Minho.

“Me? Yeah, I’m actually not as affected as I thought I’d be, I don’t know if that makes me a cruel person or not but I was only sad for the first week or two. Nothing too bad.”

“I see.” Another silence settles between us. This one is longer, more tense, there was something Minho wanted to ask but he wasn’t sure, and I couldn’t depict what question he was going to ask.

“Actually, I came her for a reason.” He says.

“And what reason is that?” I ask hesitantly.

“For answers.” My brows furrow, answers for what? “There’s something Hyunjin told me recently and it got me thinking, and I wanted to hear it from you if it was true.”

I finish my coffee and place it down delicately on the coffee table, trying not to show how nervous I was with how badly my hands were shaking. “I’ll see if I have answers for you then.”

“When you told me you were leaving, you said you had some, things, to figure out on your own. What was it that you had to figure out?”

I take a moment to decide exactly how I was going to answer his question. Did I want to expose my feelings to him just yet? “Just, feelings.” I say vaguely.

“For?”

“Just feelings for somebody.”

“Is it Hyunjin?”

“No.”

“Chan?”

“Nope.”

“Changbin?”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Me?”

I pause for just a half second, and apparently that was all Minho needed. “I guess Hyunjin’s big mouth was right after all.”

“Wait- What? What are you talking about?”

Minho takes a long sip of his coffee before finishing letting out a sigh after swallowing, he slowly sets the mug on the table before making direct eye contact with me and silently killing me with the suspense. “Minho please just say something you’re killing me here.”

He only chuckles in response. “Hyunjin told me not too long ago that you took up the offer to work here because you were going to sort out your feelings, for me.” He says sweetly as I suck in a breath at his last words.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Minho-“

“Now now, Y/n, we shouldn’t hide things from each other anymore, should we?” His sweet, sultry voice was affecting me greatly as he leaned closer to me on the couch. I gulp and silently curse when Luna, the only thing keeping me sane, leaves the comfort of my lap for her scratch-post.

“Minho…” I let out quietly.

“Tell me, Kitten, is it true?” He asks once again.

“I-“ My voice catches in my throat when Minho leans in ever nearer, still making direct eye-contact with me. “Yes, it is.” I sigh out and Minho backs away.

“He was right.” Minho whispers while my gaze drops to my hands that I fiddle with in my lap at the secret that’s let out. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I’m sorry.” I whisper.

“Why are you sorry darling?” He asks softly and uses his thumb and forefinger to tilt my head up by my chin.

“I couldn’t tell you because I knew you didn’t feel the same, and then when you got together with Ahra we drifted apart because it hurt me to see you with her. Then I left and told you about me leaving so last minute. I made you cry, Minho, and I hate that I did. But I couldn’t see any other way out of it. I hurt you because I was cowardly and didn’t want to be selfish by telling you and having your attention move off of Ahra, when I was really being selfish by not telling you and hurting you in the end.” More tears escape my eyes as we look at each other.

“Princess, no…” He cups my face with his hands and uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. “I’ll admit, it did hurt when you told me that you were leaving the day of, but I understood where you were coming from. Because you were right, I would have done something crazy to keep you by my side. Do you know why?” He asks, and I shake my head, still crying. “Because I need you by my side, kitten, even when I was dating Ahra I felt off but just didn’t pay any mind to it because I had her. But now I know it’s because you and I were drifting apart, I found out when after you left and me and Ahra broke up because I felt empty. I couldn’t text you to just come over anymore because you’re farther away from me now. I lied earlier, I said that I sent out some applications for jobs but didn’t get any answers yet, right?” I nod. “I got offered a job as a software engineer, here, in Itaewon, and I said yes.”

“Why?” I whisper.

“Because I want to be near you, I need to be by your side Y/n, because I love you.” I let out a sob at his confession and he coos, bringing me to rest my head on his chest and rubbing his hands on my back and running them through my hair.

“I love you too.” I say after a few minutes.

Minho brings me out of his hold, and cups my face again. For the first time, he kisses me. His lips brush over mine before deepening the kiss, taking full charge of it yet somehow still being soft with me. His kisses were nothing short of addicting, and I knew I’d be in love with him for a long time.

In that moment, kissing the man of my dreams, I remember that it may be rare that a second lead gets their own happy ending, but it’s not unheard of. Sometimes the main lead and second lead do end up with their own happily ever after.

Notes from the author: I have FINALLY posted something y’all 😂 took a few months but she’s here, and she’s dishing out something at least. I don’t know how often I’ll be posting again, esp with school and whatnot, but I do know I need to drain out my drafts because phew, it’s getting a little full in there.

But anyways, I hope you enjoyed this fic! I’m pretty sure it’s one of the longest I’ve written if not the longest. Hopefully it wasn’t too bad, I’m probably a little rusty but we can fix that (i think)

if you want more I still have my old stuff up on my masterlist on my account! hope to see you around :))

-nyx

#skz ff #skz fluff #skz fanfic #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfiction #minho fluff #skz minho fluff #skz angst #yOU KNOW I KNOW LEE KNOW #skz lee know #lee know #lee know x y/n #tags are annoying sigh #lee minho fanfiction #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fic #stray kids fluff #stray kids angst

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bbangsoonie · 4 years ago

Text

backdoor

member: jaehyun (hyunjae) genre: fluff (requested) word count: 3,120 synopsis: jaehyun has always been your rival. so when he bets that he could make you fall for him, you can’t back down and say no. but when you’re too confident, you let your guard done.

backdoor: a term used in league of legends; when you secretly attack the enemy’s nexus while they’re focused elsewhere. this is done by sneaking into the enemy base and taking them by surprise

Lee Jaehyun was the cockiest and most annoying person you had ever met. You would think that growing up as childhood “friends” would make you two close. After all, your parents were best friends with his parents.

But no, you and Jaehyun had been rivals ever since you were both enrolled into a tennis club as young children. You always had the upper hand until he suddenly hit puberty and became a lot more physically fit than you. Once he started beating you in nearly every match, he became your #1 enemy.

He had always been super competitive and made everything into a contest. Who could run to the car faster? Who could receive a higher score on the exam? Who could make the other lose their temper first?

With high school came his sudden increase in popularity. It inflamed his ego to the max, which irked you to no end.

Every Valentine’s Day, he would brag about all the gifts and confessions he received. And every White Day, he would compare the numbers to yours.

He was loved by the girls for being a casanova and admired by the guys for his athleticism and gaming skills.

You, on the other hand, could not comprehend why the entire school was infatuated with him. You had your eyes on someone else. Kim Sunwoo. He had caught your attention since the first day of freshman year. Now, as a senior, you were about to graduate without ever making a move.

You were too shy to approach him. You couldn’t even find a common interest to naturally bring up and talk about. All he ever did was make music and play League of Legends.

So you found Jacob during lunch and practically begged him to teach you how to play the game.

“Please please please?” you whined.

“It’s not that I don’t want to. It’s that I can’t,” Jacob said apologetically. “I have basketball practice every day. Besides, I haven’t played in almost half a year. I’m rusty.”

“I just need you to teach me the basics!”

“I’m sorry, Y/n.”

Sighing, you gave up and slumped in your seat. You poked at the food in front of you with a pout.

“Did I just hear the Y/n ask Jacob to teach her how to play League?” Jaehyun suddenly popped out of nowhere.

“Fuck off,” you rolled your eyes at him as you set your chopsticks down.

“You know, I’m the highest ranked player in our school,” he said smugly. You wanted nothing but to wipe that look off his face.

You ignored him and took a sip of your water. Jacob awkwardly glanced between you and Jaehyun as he tightly held onto his spoon. He could sense another argument coming.

“I can teach you if you want,” Jaehyun offered.

“I don’t want,” you coldly rejected.

“Of course you don’t,” he scoffed. “You’re too afraid to spend time with me because you might realize that you actually like me.”

“Oh please. There are a few things in this world that will never change. The sun rising from the east, the sun setting in the west, and my hatred for you,” you said.

“Well if you hate me that much, then let’s make a bet out of it. The first one to fall for the other’s seducing loses,” he smirked.

Still stuck in the middle, Jacob shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“You don’t have to accept the challenge if you’re not confident,” Jaehyun shrugged, making you narrow your eyes at him.

A list of pros and cons was being made in your head as you contemplated the crazy suggestion. The logical part of your mind wanted nothing to do with him. You knew that stooping down to his level was childish. You had much better things to do than go along with his bet.

The competitive part of you, however, couldn’t bear to back down. You would have to deal with him flaunting over you and calling you a coward if you didn’t agree to this.

So you disregarded all rationale and crossed your arms with a curt “deal”.

The walk to school the next day was full of complaints as you whined about falling for Jaehyun’s trick and Kevin chided you for it.

“I don’t know why you thought it would be a good idea,” Kevin tsk-ed. “He makes your blood boil within seconds. How are you going to hold back from tearing him apart? Never mind flirt with him.”

“I’m already regretting it,” you groaned.

“Speaking of the devil,” Jacob coughed, nudging you.

You looked up to see Jaehyun waiting by the school gates. He was holding a bouquet of flowers and every girl who passed by whispered to their friend about it. To everyone’s shock, he walked up to you and handed you the flowers.

“So it starts now?” you stared at the roses. “You call this seducing?”

“I call this romantic,” he grinned.

Rolling your eyes, you handed Kevin the bouquet and walked away. He awkwardly chased after you as Jacob offered Jaehyun a pat on the shoulder.

“She doesn’t like roses. She thinks they’re cliché,” he said before leaving.

When the dismissal bell rang, Jaehyun was waiting for you outside of your classroom. Hushed whispers erupted again as your classmates tried to figure out why he was being so affectionate to you. It was no secret that you two never got along.

After gathering your belongings, you grabbed your backpack and left without sparing him another glance. Unfazed, he easily caught up to you and slung his arm around your shoulder.

“What? Are you wavering already?” he teased.

“Not a chance,” you scoffed.

“As a part of the bet, I can teach you how to play League. That’s what you wanted anyway. Think of it as killing two birds with one stone.”

You ignored all the incredulous looks you received with Jaehyun by your side as you left the school grounds. You didn’t realize that you weren’t headed home until you stopped in front of a PC Room. Puzzled, you stared at the building in front of you.

“I promised that I’d teach you. Our first lesson starts today,” he said as he dragged you inside.

Your brain was bombarded with a whole new world. You struggled to keep up as he rambled on about bots and gold. He was showing you a demonstration by playing a round but your inability to multitask made it difficult to understand what was going on on the screen.

“My main is Jace and I usually go jungle,” he explained and you pretended to understand by nodding. At your silence, he eyed your expression and chuckled.

“So is Sunwoo the reason why you’re suddenly interested in League?” he asked, catching you off guard.

“How did you know?” you gaped.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice your little crush on him?” he raised a brow.

You were taken aback to say the least. You didn’t think he paid much attention to you other than when he was bored and wanted to mess around.

“Anyway, he usually goes mid as Zed,” he shrugged. “To be honest, the best way for you to bond with him through the game is for him to play ADC and for you to be support.”

“As if I know what all that means,” you frowned.

At that moment, his character died and the screen went gray. You snickered, earning a light flick on your forehead.

“ADC stands for attack damage carry. It’s the champion who usually does the most attacking. They go in the bottom lane with whoever’s playing support. Supports are supposed to aid and heal the ADC. So you would follow and communicate with them.”

“Sounds complicated,” your nose wrinkled in distaste.

“Sounds fun,” he corrected before turning back to the computer.

The next day, Jaehyun surprised you with a small potted plant in front of the gates.

“Since you don’t like roses, I got you a succulent instead,” he said proudly.

Next to you, Kevin giggled and Jacob let out a soft “aww”. Slightly touched yet also slightly embarrassed, you took it from him in a hurry and stormed off.

“You’re slowly getting there,” Jacob laughed as Kevin shot him a thumbs up.

Smiling, Jaehyun watched as they ran to catch up with you. He heard you yell at them after what was probably a teasing remark. You then began to chase Kevin, who ran away shrieking.

After two weeks of spending hours at the PC Room after school, you were starting to get a hang of the game. You found Teemo, who you insisted was a dog (he’s actually a rodent), and gushed over how cute he is.

Jaehyun made fun of your champion choice and shook his head as he explained that Teemo was the most hated character.

“Why? He’s adorable!” you defended. “And I love the little eggs he plants.”

“For the nth time, those are mushrooms! Not eggs,” he exclaimed. “And that’s exactly why everyone hates him. He’s so annoying.”

“You’re annoying,” you shot back.

“Well, Teemo’s not an option right now,” he pointed out.

He was teaching you how to play Howling Abyss that day. And playing ARAM meant your champion would be randomly given.

“Oh! The cute cat is available,” you excitedly clicked.

“That’s Yuumi and that’s actually not a bad choice,” he nodded in approval. “You just have to attach onto me and heal me.”

You hated to admit that you had grown closer with Jaehyun. Only a couple of weeks had passed by since the bet and you didn’t completely despise him anymore.

He gifted you something small each morning, whether it was a plant or piece of bread. He was always waiting for you at the gates. Dating rumors were already circulating the school but you hadn’t forgotten about the bet. You were determined to win it.

Which was why you began to wake up earlier to put on makeup and even complimented him during games. It was easy to make him smile. All you needed to do was throw a lame joke in here and there and he would burst out in laughter.

It was almost suspiciously easy. He was too willing to respond to your advances and never put up a wall.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t get on your nerves. His antics still bothered you to no end.

On the way home, he insisted on feeding you ice cream instead of having you hold it yourself. Except he kept pulling the spoon back when you opened your mouth to eat it.

The first time, you gave him a dirty look. The second time, you punched his arm. The third time, you gave him the finger and walked off after a “fuck you”.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” he laughed.

Once again, you were reminded of how immature he was.

“So has there been any progress?” Kevin asked.

It was gym period and all the students were running around in the field. Jacob was playing volleyball with Jaehyun while you and Kevin were sitting on the sidelines.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged.

“It would be the best enemies-to-lovers trope if you two actually end up dating like this,” he commented.

“Never,” you snorted in disbelief.

You had seen Jaehyun ever since he was a snotty little kid. Even back then, he was a mischievous brat. There was no way you could ever see him as anything but that.

The teacher blew his whistle, signaling the end of gym class. You got up, dusted your pants, and skipped down the steps. Unfortunately, you landed wrong and felt a sharp pain in your ankle as you fell down.

After Kevin shouted your name, Jaehyun turned his head to see you on the ground. Without thinking twice, he ran towards you and asked if you were okay. When you couldn’t reply, he put you on his back with Kevin’s help and sprinted to the nurse’s office.

Your heart was beating fast but you couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason why. Was it because of the pain? Or all the attention you were receiving from your classmates?

By the time you reached the office, your ankle was throbbing and swelling up. The nurse was nowhere to be seen so Jaehyun retrieved an ice pack himself and wrapped a towel around it before applying it.

You were sitting on a cot while he was bent down to tend to your wound. His forehead was wrinkled with worry and you stared at him. This was the first time he had ever treated you with such gentleness.

“I don’t think you broke anything but it’s definitely gonna hurt for at least a week,” he winced in vicarious pain.

You suddenly didn’t know how to act around him. You weren’t used to receiving sympathy from him.

“Uh that’s okay,” you coughed to cover up the awkwardness. You’d rather have him make fun of you for being clumsy. But instead, he seemed genuinely concerned for you.

“You should’ve been more careful,” he scolded.

There was something about the way he looked at you. His eyes were no longer playful but you couldn’t figure out what emotions hid behind those eyes.

Those eyes. His eyes clouded your mind. For some reason, you couldn’t get it out of your head.

You found yourself avoiding him as you struggled to organize your thoughts. Or rather, your feelings.

Wanting to distract yourself, you decided to finally talk to Sunwoo. Surely, spending time with him would help you forget about Jaehyun.

So you mustered up the courage to ask him out on a date. To your surprise, he happily agreed and suggested that you watch a movie together. There was a new romcom film that came out and that he had been wanting to watch.

The date wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. Sunwoo’s goofiness offset any nervousness and it was fun to be around him. But yet, it also wasn’t as heart fluttering as you thought it would be.

Perhaps you had idealized him too much in your imagination. Your romantic feelings for him dissipated and you saw him as a good friend. Luckily, he felt the same.

However, word about your date had already spread by the time you got to school on Monday. It had reached Jaehyun’s ears and his expression hardened when he saw you laughing with Sunwoo at lunch.

He knew what the ugly feeling in his stomach was. And he wasn’t happy about it. So he reacted in the only way he knew. By clinging to your side and pestering you.

He spent the whole day messing up your hair and being sarcastic. Eventually, you finally snapped and told him to piss off.

“I’ll consider it if you can beat me in tennis today,” he said.

You crossed your arms, wondering what was going on in his head. You hadn’t been able to defeat him since middle school.

“If you can get a single ball past me, I’ll leave you alone,” he proposed. With a huff, you reluctantly agreed. It would be faster to just get it over with.

That was how you two ended up at a tennis court after school. He never went easy on you but he was going especially hard that day. He gave you no breaks and flung the ball back at you with what felt like all his strength. Ball after ball flew past you as he grabbed another one to start again.

“What the hell, Lee Jaehyun?” you yelled across the court. “Why the fuck are you so aggressive today?”

“Are you giving up?” he taunted while bouncing the ball.

“Oh hell no,” you grumbled as you got in position.

Another half an hour passed by with him beating you again and again. You were drenched in sweat and starting to feel sore. But you refused to give him the pleasure of watching you admit defeat.

So you kept going until the ball accidentally hit your shoulder. The amount of force he put into that backhand made you yelp in pain as you dropped the racket.

Startled, Jaehyun ran over to make sure you were okay.

“You just can’t bear to see me win once, can you?” you glared as you shoved his hand away. “You turn everything into a competition and act like you’re superior over me.”

“I-I didn’t mean to do that,” his brows furrowed in guilt.

“Didn’t mean to do what? Make my childhood a living hell by ruining my favorite sport? Use my crush on Sunwoo to trick me into another stupid bet? Confuse me into thinking that you might actually not hate me?”

“I don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you so clingy?”

“Because I like you!”

His words brought upon silence. The tension in the air was thick as you both stared at each other.

“You’re so dense,” he sighed. “I wanted your attention, okay? But back then, I was a kid and didn’t know how to stay by your side without annoying the hell out of you. And then I didn’t know how to transition out of that.”

He fidgeted with a loose string on his shirt and took a deep breath before continuing.

“This stupid bet was supposed to change our relationship. I was supposed to show you that I’m not as bad as you think I am. That I’m a guy too. That I’ve been in love with you for a whole decade now.”

To say you were surprised would be a massive understatement. All your life, you had been sure that Jaehyun’s purpose in life was to irritate you. So when your heart began to skip around him, you cursed yourself for giving into the hormones that made you see him in a different light. You never thought that the feelings would be reciprocated.

“You don’t feel the same way? At all?” he carefully asked.

Your mouth opened but no words came out. You couldn’t find the right words to answer his question.

“You’re not saying no,” the corners of his lips curved up.

He took a step closer to you and held your cheeks. You felt your heart race at the proximity and froze.

“For confirmation?” his lips ghosted over yours. You barely managed to nod slightly before he closed the gap between you two.

As cheesy as it sounded, you felt sparks fly the moment you had your first kiss. By the time he pulled away, you felt your cheeks heat up.

“So I guess that means I won the bet before it even began,” you joked, making him laugh.

“Yes, yes you did,” he smiled as he hugged you.

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